"Doing this job, it's not going to get you away Joe, but it's going to be setting you up for a not so legitimate path" - Thomas O'Neal 

On January 28th, 1936. The murder of Chief Bryan Whitman was carried out by gunmen associated with an unknown organization, the death of the police chief had brought the F.B.I Officials swarming as people wondered who would murder the chief of the Detroit police department in cold blood. 

Many organizations had stated they had nothing to do with it, businesses had gotten heat as the search continued for the perpetrators. At first glance, people thought it was a robbery gone wrong and it would appear that way for many people until the Police had released the report that certain case files had been missing. It was reported Chief Whitman was battling the growing corruption in his city, he started with Councilman Renard. 

Councilman Benjamin Renard had been arrested on January 29th, 1936, brought in for questioning regarding his whereabouts during the robbery that had occurred in the home of Bryan Whitman. It was to be stated that he had just granted a permit for legitimate businessman, Joseph A. Pavanno.

People were still in disbelief and wondered if a councilman could do this, what else did he hide behind a mask of politeness and cunning?

January 28th, 1936. 

"Are you really wearing that thing you call a mustache on this job? Joe, this ain't a fucking game, we can't be seen like this. We look like a bunch of fools playing dress up and that is not my style, I am looking to help you out and not know what you are about to do."

O'Neal looked at his friend with narrowed eyes, over the past few days between them it had seemed that Joseph had been taking his responsibility and shoved it away. It would look like he was concentrating on the business that they were about to commit, yet there was not a single word uttered about it, until now. He was clearly thinking about other business, something that had the half-Irish man worried. 

"Don't worry Tom, it's simply a disguise if someone sees us. It'll be quick and easy, in and out. We have to make this look like a robbery and we have to wake him up, make sure that he comes out of that room guns blazing, otherwise, it looks like murder for hire." 

Joe stated as he picked his personal weapon which was a 1911 Golden Colt Pistol, the handle was colored black as he placed his favorite gun in his waistband. He looked over towards the black truck they had chosen for this little job. it would conceal them enough in the dark of the night as they both knew what was to be done. 

"Trust me, Joe, I've heard this plan multiple times. There is no need to keep repeating it, I can see, you're nervous like a classical maiden on her wedding night. Calm the fuck down, Jesus Christ!"

Tommy laughed a bit, forcefully patting Joe on the back as he entered the black truck, starting the car as he looked out the window. If someone from the outside looked at them, they would have never guessed that an Irishman and an Italian would be working together to kill a Police Chief. 

"Oh fuck you! Just sit there and wait, do not look at me like I'm a fucking schmuck, I know what I'm doing, aye?"

Thomas nodded before smiling thinly, he leaned down onto the driving wheel almost resting his head against it before he stared up at the night sky.

Joe stared at the car for more than a few seconds, heavy breaths leaving him as he knew what was about to happen. He could not allow this to happen, he thought with such determination, yet he found himself walking toward the car door, entering the passenger side seat before staring ahead with a blank mask. 

"Go."

O'Neal not needing another word drove off, with this little job, business would be picking up without a doubt in their mind. All they had to do was commit the assassination of a Police Chief and frame a councilman, it was easier said than done.

Joe looked at O'Neal as he calmly drove to Downtown, the streets were filled with women of many natures, each of them looking to score in a different way and Joe gazed upon none of them. He did not want them this night or any night for the matter, he had already known about the hungry women of these streets, they would bag the nearest cop if it got them anything. 

O'Neal, on the other hand, had been thinking about this recent hiccup, they were about to commit one of the most horrific tragedies that a man could do. Killing a Police Captain and that spelled trouble for anyone in the way, business was not going to be well if Tommy had learned anything back from his time in the old country. 

"You know, there were times when I thought, he had to be joking. He couldn't do this, he was legit and he wasn't like these other people. These guys who did anything and everything to get their buck, to get their way in this life. The life that is hard for people, are you one of those guys Joe?"

Joe would pretend not to hear the statement and the follow-up question that was given by his partner on this job, he did not want to think about it. He did not want to be placed in this box where he could not escape, he had to do this. He knew that there might be other ways, yet that involved people within another league of himself. 

"O'Neal, just shut up and drive."

Joe placed a hand on the smooth leather material of the truck, it was a bit rough, yet what else was he to expect? They could not afford luxury in a time like this. He looked out the window, they had long since passed the businesses of Corktown and now headed down an off-beat path that seemed to be a shortcut into Downtown, something that Joe hoped to be true. 

"Easy man, easy. I understand this job ain't an easy one or the fact that we seem to be ready to commit multiple amounts of crimes in the space of a day. You wanted this, no one else did. No one forced you, Joe, you even stated that these were selfish reasons and you know it within your heart to be true."

He did not respond to the Irish man, nor did he need to. They both knew what was happening here, the nerves were getting to them and that would do nothing but cause more problems. 

"Sure O'Neal, let's get this done, alright? Nothing else has to be said and nothing else has to be done, just stop this man. We are doing this, end of the goddamn discussion, alright?"

O'Neal hummed, not doing anything else to aggravate his friend before he ended up out of the car, walking back to Corktown with nothing but two dollars to his name. He had to wonder though, was Joe in the right place? Was he thinking straight? These were all questions that he wanted the answer to and yet, he dreaded to know it. He'd rather remain on the outside, looking in. 

"Understood. Let's get this done and so will end the bloody business."

He chuckled, noticing how Joe seemed to roll his eye with a small smile twitching at his lips as he did so. Clearly, he had not lost his sense of humor, something that Tommy found a bit amusing in a situation like this and yet he did not want to ruin the moment, instead he would enjoy the small moment of fun before they got down to work, it seemed that would be what he did now, finding joy in the little moments.
 

Chief Bryan Whitman sat at his desk, looking over the Heads of the Ligambi Empire. Only one of them was connected with the corrupt Councilman, Benjamin Renard. As far as he knew, no one else had business with the man, he had set up a tail on the councilman and found that he visited a mistress in 12th Street. He was a married man, yet it seemed that he was not all to loyal to his wife. 

By his side was his trusty snub-nosed revolver, he never went anywhere without it and he knew that the streets of Detroit were all filled with crooks that he hoped to put in the slammer eventually. He heard the screech of a car outside his house, he wondered would be pulling up here at this ungodly hour. 

"Hey, there's a light on, you think he's home?"

Whitman and his suspicion had raised beyond his threshold as he picked up his sidearm, he knew these guys weren't delivering any special cookies. He walked out of his study, making sure to not press his feet too hard on the wooden floors as he knew that would give him away. He needed to get the jump on these bastards, for all he knew, these people did not intend to simply rob him. 

"Of course not Tom, just relax, ease up! I'm going in!"

Whitman hid behind a wall, noticing a brick flying through his door window, he suppressed a growl, knowing that this fucker had no qualms of being completely reckless. He made sure his gun was loaded before aiming for the door, he fired one shot, causing the man to back away with a fearful gasp.

"This fucker is home, Tom! You gotta be shitting me, I thought all cops in these states were corrupt as fuck and he would be in a strip joint, he needs to sort out his priorities."

Whitman narrowed his eyes, he noticed that the man spoke with a British accent and was probably a hired gun by someone. He turned to fire again, only to hear the sound of his door being broken down as he recognized the familiar sound of the hinges coming off due to the former raids that he had done on multiple drug fronts within this city.

"I'm warning you, idiots, stay back! Or else!"

Whitman growled out and he could hear mocking laugher before hearing some footsteps, he rushed out from behind the wall, tackling the man down to the ground. He would not be taken advantage of, he knew now that this was not a simple robbery and this was a takedown hit by Renard or possibly Kenny Russo, his associate in the life of crime. 

"Heh, the old man still has a few good punches in him, how adorable!"

He looked into the person's eyes and he found himself staring at a ghost who looked at him with a smirk, it was clear that he thought he was scared of the man, no he was not. He could see the man for who he was, Charlie Pavanno, it had to be him! No one else had that same identical smirk, no one!

"It can't be you, you're dead!"

It was then that the face had not turned into a full-blown mocking smirk, it was now confusion and one of caution as the man laid a cheap gut punch and made the chief get off of him. Whitman looked up at his would-be killer, he could see it in his eyes before he was grabbed by his white shirt and forced to his feet as he was slammed into a cabinet which caused many of his treasured items to fall to the ground, some smashing on contact and others just rolled about on the floor. 

"You knew my brother, how lovely!"

It was here that Whitman was thrown to the ground with force before two shots rang out through the house as the flashing light of the Golden Colt 1911 Pistol was the last thing that the Chief of Police saw. 

-

Releasing a shaky breath, Joe walked away with a sigh, not wanting to stare down at the dead body. He collected the files on Renard quickly and messed up the room, flipping the desk over and smashing certain drawers, along with items. It looked sloppy enough before he ran out of the house, stepping into the black truck that O'Neal was waiting for him in. 

"Is it done?"

Joe nodded before he looked out the window, he did notice that O'Neal did not ask any more questions, none needed to be asked and none would be asked. They had believed that they pulled off the job with no one witnessing or hearing the multiple gunshots fired at the location, it was a rookie mistake or simply an error on their part.

O'Neal drove off to the City Hall location, none of them said anything for a while, none of them wanted to say anything. Instead, O'Neal had simply kept quiet, it did not any kind of conversation to be had, none needed to be had and the only thing that would be heard was the engine. 

"Here we are."

Joe stepped out of the car, he placed the 'mail' for Renard in the letterbox for him which was stationed just outside the main building. 

As quick as he came, he entered the car again. Once again, nothing needed to be said as O'Neal drove back to the apartment of their allies, Cain and Koneko. He hoped that this risky move would not bite them in the arse.

January 29th, 1936 - Police Interrogation Room

"Do you know who the fuck I am!? I'm Benjamin Renard, I can have you by the balls and your jobs, gone within the next minute if I don't get some understanding of why I'm here."

Jakob and Kaleb, former Reporter and Private investigator respectively were now Detectives with the Detroit City Police Dept. They measured up the man before them, noticing how a bead of sweat ran down his forehead and his eyes darted between them, clearly wondering who was the lead detective in this investigation. 

"Mr. Renard, I would implore you to calm down. We've recently come back from a gruesome murder of a Chief within this city, a Bryan Whitman."

Jakob looked at the man, noticing how he seemed to flinch at the name before a small smirk broke out over his lips. He was clearly not grieving over the man's death, neither were the detectives, they did not care for the man but he was one heck of a man who managed to fight off the corruption enough. 

"Ah, Chief Whitman and I did not see eye to eye on certain things, yet his death is a tragedy-"

Kaleb looked at Jakob with a smirk, he knew that this was some kind of joke that the councilman would have to use with the press, would it really work on them? Police Detectives who had a liking to Meatballs and Spaghetti, probably not. 

"Save it, Renard! You don't need to prepare your fucking defense right now, we just need to know if you've come into contact with anybody that has been, wanting to remove a chief of police from this city. I got the F.B.I breathing down our necks, any help, would be appreciated, Councilman."

It seemed that the two were switching roles, one was calm and calculating, the other was rough and clearly needed anger-management. Renard looked at them one more time, he was not going to argue, he knew that he could not be implicated or at least he thought so. 

"Hm, no. Who is that stupid to remove a chief of police? The amount of shit that would bring from the higher-ups is truly something to witness, is there a reason why I was brought in though? It seems more than just to know of my information, which my office secretary could have informed you about."

Kaleb nodded before motioning with his hand for Jakob to go ahead and talk, he knew that the calmer one of these two could deliver the words with much less sarcasm and more seriousness with what was needed for now. 

"We found Case Files in your letterbox at City Hall, now, if you were to murder the chief of the DCPD. You wouldn't leave the files with you, so I'm thinking someone wants you done for this crime. Me and Kaleb, we're not like that. Only there is one thing. The Case Files were regarding you and the Ligambi Crime family, we believe there is much to this story and we intend to find out what that is."

Renard looked at the detectives, it was clear that these two knew he had something to do with the death of Chief Whitman, it was lucky that nothing was on paper or that other things had yet to be done. He knew that his assistant was delivering the permit to Joe, the man that had done the deed and he could not inform the police, it would implicate him in the job. He knew that things would have to be handled differently, he was going to call in some favors after this little circus act. 

"Are we done? I have some business that needs tending to."

Jakob waved him out, telling him he could go before he turned to Kaleb, informing him to go and follow the man, he was not to leave their sight for a couple of days. This case was theirs and they would not have anyone coming in and fucking it up. 

Renard walked out of the station, he noticed a black taxi-like car across the street before it sped off like a bat out of hell, something was not right there and he wondered what. He noticed his own driver waiting for him before he entered and headed down to an old Hotel that was still being used, he needed to speak with a former partner of his.

January 29th - Russo's Bar

"Joe! Joe! Joe!"

A young boy of thirteen had run into the bar and was looking for the man that told him to watch out for the councilman with a Driver in the black Chrysler Imperial. The kid was getting paid for keeping an eye on the councilman, it was easy. Only he knew that the councilman should not have been allowed out and something was not smelling right, this was going to cause some problems for all parties involved. 

"Hey mutt, what the heck do you think you're doing here?"

A local goomba spoke to the boy with such a hard voice that the young messenger thought that he was going to die here. Only he would not be seeing the golden gates of heaven today, an associate of Joe's had walked towards them, clearly staring down the goomba with a hard glare before he moved out of the way, allowing the kid to go on with Cain and deliver the news to Joe. 

"Thank you, Mr. Cain, he seemed really mean!"

Cain laughed before noticing the booth that Joe, Koneko, and O'Neal were sitting at. They were each drinking a pint of beer, enjoying the time they had. Only Cain knew that would not be lasting long with the amount of time that the kid had to watch out for Renard and come back. It only meant one thing, they would be going to war with a councilman and it would not be guns and blood, but one of tactical business and favors. 

"Don't worry kid, you'll be fine, now what is going on that you had to rush in here like you just saw something really terrible."

Staring at Cain, the kid shrugged and decided to inform Cain of what he saw, he noticed that the African-American man and his eyebrows had twitched up with curiosity as he told the story, only then a frown had marred his face.

"Thanks, kid, now, go and get yourself some Ice-Cream from the bar, I'll be over here if one of these guys give ya trouble, alright?"

Cain looked over and noticed that Koneko was looking back at him, she seemed to notice that he was being different. He needed to get this over with and strode over to the table with anger radiating off of him like the sun itself, which was saying something. 

"Joe! We have to talk, enough of the fucking beer! We told you that something like this would happen! Renard got off, he has not been charged with shit, the kid over there did say that he was going to The Tower Lodge, it seems that place is still up and running."

Joe looked at Cain, he could see that the man was angry and the celebrations had to be stopped. He shook his head, not wanting to them to stop, only he was not a child and simply pushed away his beer before looking up into the dark-brown eyes of Cain. 

"Well, we did prepare for this and you should be happy to know that the permit for the Casino is being delivered as we speak. Renard would not have had enough time to call it off, everything will be going to plan, trust me. For now, sit down and enjoy the comforts that Russo's has to offer."

He could see that Cain had much more to say, he did not want to hear it and he knew that he had to plan for the Councilman, this man could stop his dream if he wanted. He needed to know what the man was planning, he knew that he had no connections currently, yet he wanted to make sure that he was protected. He looked at the door as he noticed the assistant for Renard had arrived, a smile twitched at his lips. 

"It seems Fate is swinging in our favor, get the nice lady a drink Koneko, would you, please?"

Koneko glared at Joe for a while before sighing, ordering a glass of beer for the assistant before relaxing into the booth and eying the assistant for all she was worth. She did notice that she was not uncomfortable in such a place, instead, she embraced it and walked over to their table with confidence.

"It seems we got a woman of confidence over here."

Koneko whispered under her breath, she did nothing to hide the awe in her voice as she clearly admired the straight-laced woman for walking into such a place. 

"Joseph Pavanno, here you are. The Permit for your Casino, Mr.Renard would like to thank you for your cooperation, he looks forward to doing more business with you in the future."

Joe smiled toothily, before noticing that it was doing nothing to affect the woman in front of him, she continued to look at him with a straight smile before handing him the papers for his newest business that would light up the Detroit Business. 

"Thank you, give Mr. Renard my thanks when you see him."

He allowed the woman to walk away before his smile fell, he knew that he would have to deal with the councilman eventually. The man would be needed, he had a feeling that this was the first step into a not so legitimate path. He had his Casino, what next? He had to build it, he had to make this dream a reality.

He reached inside the envelope, feeling the soft material of the paper before pulling it out and showing it to everyone as he raised his glass of beer. 

"To our future!"

For now, Joe would enjoy this small moment of true peace with the people that had once been loyal to his nephew, brother and now him. He looked over to the Irishman of this group, the man that was simply a taxi driver, now became something much more different. He was involved with the life, whether he liked it or not. He was now a member of this thing. 

Little did this band know that their troubles with the life had barely begun.

January 29th - The Tower Lodge 

Renard sat in his car as he inhaled the cancerous cigarette, he was outside the Tower Lodge and waiting for his contact. He needed some information on the man that tried to screw him over, he would not allow it to go unanswered. He now knew that the kid was ambitious enough to allow his attention to be focused on the feds, yet he would allow for another person to catch some information on this little schemer. 

"You see him yet Andrade?"

His driver said no and this has his nerves firing up, not wanting to allow it to show, he took another puff of his Cig before looking out the window. He had heard that name before though, he had reminded him of a former Casino owner in this very city. He could not recall the name, yet he knew that he had seen that very face before and did not want to forget it, he had to make sure to get his revenge.

All too soon, the car door was opened as the man sat opposite him, his contact wore a black suit with a burgundy tie before he looked at him with narrowed eyes. It was clear that the man had been busy as his clothing was hastily put together. Renard had put two and two together on what the man was doing and would leave it at that.

"Renard, what is it you want? You've not contacted the organization for a couple of months, what is this problem that is hindering you now?"

Benjamin looked away before motioning for Andrade to circle the block for a while, he continued to inhale the cancerous smoke and he noticed Andrade in the front nodding his head. This caused Ben to growl under his breath, knowing that the feds would not leave him alone and considering that this was once a hangout for Mobsters, it did not do him any favors. 

"You are right, I need assistance from the organization. I need to know everything on Joseph Pavanno, brother to Charlie Pavanno and now following in his footsteps, he tried to have me framed for a job I had him do. It involved a certain Police Chief."

The Contact nodded, he knew that his client needed some kind of help, he knew that the Pavanno's were an Old Family from Sicily, yet a couple of branches had moved out. Some even here in the states, others? Scattered around the world. It was a family name that lived everywhere. 

"I knew that was you, you just had to send that message, eh? You couldn't leave it alone. Only a few people know it was you and I'm assuming by the obvious tail I saw earlier that business is going to be taking a small hit, dammit Ren! I'll see what I can do though, files on Pavanno will take a couple of days, alright?"

Renard nodded, allowing the contact to exit his car before motioning for Andrade to head down to City Hall, he had some business that would need taking care of, plus he needed to show Joe that he was still up and running, but was also coming for him. Renard would have his revenge, he did not like being screwed over.

Sitting in front of him was the files on Joseph Pavanno, the very man that he knew so little about. It had annoyed him for a while before he knew that he could not just stand there and allow himself to be played by the newest opponent in this game of his. He had allowed himself to remain away from the public while watching the police follow him around, they hoped that he would make a mistake and go visit someone of a 'legitimate' nature. 

"This is who you are? A Pavanno of the old country; seems like there are more of you all over the world, now that is surprising and most definitely alarming."

Renard hummed, he knew that knowing this information was not something his opponent planned or that he remained on the outside for that; he was sure that he was too be inside right now and being visited nightly by a man of another persuasion. 

"Yes, it truly is, the decent thing out of this information is the fact that he has no relation to any of the other branches. None of them will be boarding ships or planes to come here, he is utterly alone; no one is saving this so-called Lion."

His contact, Gerard Volpien. The man that had been his international contact now helped him finding the information on Joseph Pavanno, it was something that Gerard had done for many people. He helped a lot of them for the right price, even corrupt officials like the one opposite him now, as long as he got paid, he did not care for the information and how it was used, he simply needed his payday and nothing more. He took a sip of his white wine, noticing how Renard seemed to be thinking something over. 

"What's on your mind? You are clearly wondering what to do from here, all the moves are up to you. Pavanno will need money and support from his Mob Buddies, supposedly. We monitor, see what he does and plan, we can fuck up this for him. This is your chance to repay him, bring in a whole heap of chaos for his business. I can get started on this assignment if you so wish me to?"

Renard took a sip of his water before eying Gerard, the man knew how to do business and this was one of the very moments that he found that he could trust the man. He gave a simple and effective nod, allowing Volpien to go ahead with his plans and see what he could with this plan, consequences be damned.