Oliver Knight: Freelance Detective - Part 3

"Hold on I'm thinking." Oliver said halfheartedly before hobbling back over to the makeshift bed.

As Oliver saw it, they only had two options at this point: live or die. He would much rather live, as they still technically had a case to work out. So the only real choice was to join Bubba and eventually double cross him.

"Hey kid. I have decided. Were gonna join Bubba." he tells James.

"Boss we can't!" James yelled and clutched his bars in an attempt to look at Oliver.

"Just trust me and get some rest. Tomorrow should prove to be interesting." He says and lays back on his bed. letting sleep overtake him once more.

The next morning, Oliver called to the guard outside their cell, who was sitting at a small table reading the newspaper. "Hey, I want to talk to your buddy Roger."

The cop rolled his eyes and slowly closed the newspaper. He got up and left, taking his sweet time, and several minutes later the sleazy cop by the name of Roger waltzed in with a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

"So, ya'll break already? Only one lonely night of living in a cold cell, and you're willing to work for us?" His voice was as intolerable as his entire demeanor, and it made Oliver's trigger finger itch.

"Yeah, so we're in Sisney's pocket. Now will you let us out?" Oliver said through gritted teeth.

Roger dangled his set of keys in front the bars on Oliver's cell. "Now hold on one second. Sisney thought you'd come around quickly, so he left me with your first assignment."

Roger threw a piece of paper on the floor of the cell. Picking it up, Oliver realized it was a photograph, and he instantly recognized the two figures in the black-and-white Polaroid: Stephanie and Joseph Quillian.

"Look familiar?" Roger chuckled. "I do believe Stephanie there used to be your client. Don't think it's a coincidence. Sisney wants you to clean up your mess and quickly. He also said to make their deaths messy, to send a message to anyone else that might have got the bright idea to steal from the mafia."

Oliver said nothing and continued to stare at the photograph. Roger went on, "First thing you've got to do is find where they're hiding. Being a detective and all that, I'm sure it won't be a problem. To make sure you don't try to make a run for it or help those two thieves escape, Sisney's lending you one of his most trusted hitmen: 'Johnny Slackjaw'. He's a cold-blooded killer. He'd be over seas fighting the Japs right now, but he got a dishonorable discharge for brutality. Ha! Anyways, once he shows up, you and your little sidekick will be free to go."

"Wait that wasn't part of the deal. Sisney said he would let us go after we agreed to be his lackeys. Not that we had to be followed around by one of his dogs."

Roger chuckled. "You really want to go against Bubba's orders? It didn't work out so well last time if I remember," Roger said with his arms crossed looking smug before he sauntered out of the room.

Hours passed before Roger came back in and unlocked the door to Oliver and James cells. Behind him stood a well built man with scars littered all over the skin that wasn't covered. The most prominent one was a scar right along his jaw line.

"Well you sure took your time." Oliver said as he sauntered over to where James was standing at.

"Shut up pipsqueak. I could snap you in two if you weren't working for Bubba, but then again I might still do it." Roger sneered and shoved them out of the cell block.

Oliver and James walked out of the police station with Johnny following them. The found their old car in its now terrible condition waiting for them. They drove in silence, but once they got to the office Oliver turned around.

"Listen, lughead. You can't come in here. I run a business, and I'll lose revenue from someone like you getting your ugly all over everything. Wait here." Oliver tells him.

Old Slackjaw muttered some tacky remark under his breath but agreed. "Just don't try anything stupid. It'd be a shame for me to hafta break yer necks so soon."

Leaving the thug behind, the two detectives entered the establishment. Oliver began making his slow trek up the stairs, trying his best to avoid putting too much pressure on his injured leg. Any help James offered was quickly refused with a silent shake of the head. They had just about made it to the top when the landlady appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Where in Sam Hill have you two-" she started to say but caught herself as she noticed Oliver's leg. "Oh you poor dear. How many times have I told you this line of work is too dangerous?"

James gave the old woman a polite smile and said, "Clearly not enough times. Don't worry Mrs. B, we'll keep our noses clean. I promise."

"Bah." She didn't seem convinced but went back to sweeping the hallway. James looked behind him to realize he was alone and left to catch up with Oliver.

Opening the door marked "Oliver Knight: Freelance Detective" he found the P.I. already sitting at his desk.

"Feels good to be back doesn't it, James?" Leaning back in his seat.

James sat in the arm chair in front of the desk and said, "Yeah, I guess... What are we gonna do about slackhead out there?"

"Well, I'm clearly in no condition to take him on, and you... well..."

James gave him a nasty look. "Yeah, I get it."

"We still need to find out where Stephanie and Joseph are holed up at, but I think I can kill two birds with one stone, so-to-speak. I just need to call in a favor."

"Tell me boss, which is longer: the list of people who want you dead or the list of people who owe you their lives?"

Oliver laughed. "You'd be surprised how much overlap there is between those two lists! But overall, I'd say more people want me dead. This is a dirty business and you get mixed up with all the wrong people. I'm just waiting for the day my past catches up with me."

James nodded solemnly. "It hardly seems worth it sometimes."

Oliver looked his young protégé in the eyes and said, "I want you to understand something. The war on crime will never be won. But somebody must always fight the battles, no matter what. Right now, that's us. Our client's family and countless other have been ripped apart because of Sisney, and after we find Stephanie and make sure she's safe, I'm going to track down Sisney and make him pay."

"And I'll be right behind you the entire time," said James, who seemed to be drawing on an anger all his own. They had agreed long ago never to discuss their back stories, but it was times like this when Oliver wondered what had brought James into this life. The kid would have probably made a great cop, rising through the ranks, earning medals and awards, but instead he decided to become the apprentice of a no-name private investigator.

Oliver picked up the receiver of the phone on his desk and dialed the number of one of his contacts, Skeever. Skeever was a drug dealer, and Oliver hated doing business with him, but having a man on the other side could be useful. Skeever picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?" Skeever's voice was high pitched and extremely irritating.

"Skeever, it's me, Oliver Knight."

"Ah, you son of a-"

"Listen, I'm cashing in on that favor you owe me."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Just help me this once, and you'll never hear from me again."

"Fine, but make it quick."

"I need you to find out where a Mister Joseph Quillian might go to hide out for a while."

"How the hell am I supposed to find that out?"

"We're pretty sure he's got a dealer down at Lucky's Pub on 5th street. Whoever that guy is, he's apparently a good friend of the Quillian family. Use your wily charms or rough him up a bit until he gives you some answers."

"Alright. Anything else I can do, your majesty?"

"Well, now that you mention it, we've got a goon following us around like a lost puppy. I'd appreciate if you'd help get him off our back."

"Then I'll be free of my debt?"

"That's right. Meet me tomorrow at midnight in the alley behind the Blue Olive jazz club. Bring backup and plenty of firepower; this guy won't go down without a fight."

Oliver hung up the phone and marched out of the office, leaving James to lock up behind them. They went out the front door and were met with Johnny Slackjaw's ugly mug.

"Took you two long enough. I was just about to bust in there." He smiled broadly, displaying a mouth of yellow teeth with several missing.

"Good news, Johnny," said Oliver. "We've already got a lead. We're going to meet him tomorrow night behind the Blue Olive."

Slackjaw seemed glad the two detectives weren't going to give him any trouble. This baby-sitting job might be easier than he thought.

Oliver and James ended up staying in a old run down motel with Slackjaw. The kind of place you would take a three dollar hooker for a quickie before having to go back to the Mrs. Some of the things people did in this day and age was stupid. Oliver couldn't count how many time Oliver got calls to dig up dirt on a husband or wife, but he would only take those cases if he had nothing better to do. They spent the rest of the day lounging around the grimy room in awkward silence.

"How much longer until we meet the man with the intel of Stephanie and Joseph?" Slackjaw complained.

You wouldn't think about it from looking at him, but Slackjaw was a whiner. Which was why James had to restrain Oliver from trying to off him now rather than waiting to meet up with the Drug dealer.

"We're leaving right now, so shut up!" Oliver growled leading them out of the dingy apartment.