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Chicago, Illinois. July 23rd 1934.

It’s just another Monday. The rain is washing the candy wrappers and remnants of the dailies people have left on the streets while the drains begin to overflow, unable to cope with what Mother Nature begins to ask of them. It’s strangely quiet. That means something bad is goin’ down.

I’m not surprised. I know what this city is like.

People often complain about the rain, but without it, this world would be a much different place. It washes away all the dirt and grime; giving new life to the worn-out ways of the world. I guess you could compare me to the rain. Or at least in the past, you could.

It all started when my own goddamned department screwed me over back in ‘29. I stepped on some big toes and they didn’t like it. Less than a week later I was thrown out on charges of corruption.

Who said Americans don’t understand irony?

The phone rang – it was the chief. Corrupt as they came, asking on a case. Things had been pretty slow of late. I guess the cops were finally doin’ the job they were paid to do. Or maybe someone was doing it for them.

I told him I was checkin’ a few clients, seeing who had the most interesting case. I lied but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was desperate. He hesitated, before giving me the particulars of what was going on over at City Hall. Someone with far too much money and power who was close to the Mayor had gone missing and with the force stretched to their limit dealing with the hits downtown, things were bleak. We both knew what he wanted, but I wanted to hear him say it. All I had to do was play it cool. Not too eager. I can’t afford to turn this down - times were tight.

His tone changed. He must have noticed my situation through the long pause.

He had me and he knew it.

I put down the phone and made my way to the precinct. It was full of the usual suspects, dealers and prostitutes. And then there were the criminals. The desk sergeant appeared from nowhere and directed me down the hall to the commissioners’ office.

Second left.

I knew where it was; it was where my career ended before its time. As I approached the door, I began to hesitate. Why did they want me back, especially now?

Curiosity won out over my apprehension and I knocked twice on the slightly ajar door. A hoarse voice shouted ordering me to come in. When I entered, his face seemed almost disappointed. I guess he was happy as I was to be here. His desk overflowed with paperwork, most of it probably due to the recent embezzlement scandal.

I tried a joke to lighten the mood, but it didn’t impress. So much for easing the atmosphere…