The train ride into Detroit was the same as it had always been, long and a bit boring. The locomotive was a little more filled than normal with a mix of business men and families. Dick tried to ignore the outside noises as he rubbed at the bags underneath his eyes tiredly. All of the days and nights were mixing together and he was having trouble figuring out when one was ending and another was beginning. 

Dick drew in a deep breath as he lifted the flask from his pocket. It was becoming a habit at this point; one that he wasn’t exactly happy with but it helped him get through the long nights. It wasn’t ideal but at least it was something.

Trying his best to ignore it to no avail, he eventually let out a frustrated sigh and picked up the small black notebook that sat beside him. There were already three names crossed out on it but those were just the beginning. It all seemed like it was never going to end.

Dick read the next name on the list aloud, “Thomas Carey.” He was a fat cat in Detroit that made his bones by destroying families one by one. On the surface he was a real estate mogul, seemingly turning copper into gold but the truth was far more sinister in that. Mr. Carey dealt one fear and intimidation, using whatever nasty means that were at his disposal to get his way. The only thing he cared about was his lavish lifestyle and lining his own pockets, even his own personal workers hated the guy. He was a cheap and disgusting philanderer who had no problem taking liberties with all of the females in his employ. He was connected as well, not particularly high up but enough that taking him out would empty some pretty powerful pockets.

This needed to be taken care of delicately, with no way to trace it back to Dick at all. That would have meant opening himself up for an entire hell storm that he wanted no part of what so ever. It was going to take planning and cunning, something that Dick had trained well in. As long as he could be smarter than those around him, he could pull this off. 

Dick tucked the notebook into the side of his bag once more, pulling the zipper open just to make sure his dual colts were still sitting atop his clothes. He let out a sigh of relief upon seeing them before closing the bag once more, he wasn’t necessarily going to be needed them but it was always good to know that they were within reach. 

Leaning his head back against the seat, he tried to shut his eyes but every single bump of the tracks shook him enough that he couldn’t find a comfortable spot. 

No rest for the wicked after all.

Dick made it to Detroit uneventfully enough. He didn’t manage to get much shut eye but that was somewhat expected. It wasn’t as if he was nervous though, more bottle energy than anything else. There was work to do and that always seemed to excite him. 

Passing over a few bills through a handshake to the train attendant as he exited, he stepped into the platform with his bag tucked under his arm and the small black notebook in his back pocket. He really didn’t need it anymore as by now, he had committed all of the names to memory. But this trip wasn’t about all of the names, it was about the one sitting atop the list for the time being, Thomas Carey. 

Dick was good at what he did, very good actually. He had done his research and called in a few favors, already knowing his course of action before he even stepped foot in the Motor City. In theory, it was an easy job but things rarely went as they were supposed to in Dick’s line of work. He would have been smart to expect the unexpected.

Making his way to a small motel off of the beaten path, Dick was glad to see that the place was empty expect for the couple of workers that had found a job there. They were more than happy to see him checking in as it had been sometime since they had any other customers. That made it easier on Dick and they were more than happy to accept the folder stack of bills he paid them for their silence. As far as anyone was concerned, he was never here at all.

Pressing the key into the lock, Dick unlocked the door before stepping inside. He had taken a room off to the side and around the back that couldn’t be seen from the small road that ran in front of the place. Dick tossed his bag onto the bed and quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes, making sure to stop into his shoulder holsters again after he did.

He gave a longing look at the bed and the comfy looking pillows but he had to quickly shake that thought from his head. 

No rest for the wicked after all.

Dick Hughes the shadows as he made his way from street to street. It was something that he had grown accustomed to at this point. There was always a sense of comfort in the darkness where no one could pick him out of a crowd and it had served him well so far. It felt like home. 

It didn’t take him long to reach the back entrance to the restaurant. Reaching into his pocket his fingers clutched at the small vial that was stashed away there. It wasn’t exactly his normal way but it would certainly do the trick tonight. Leaning against the old brick of the building he lit up a cigarette and waited for someone to take their own smoke break. He was halfway through with his when one of the waiters stepped outside.

Pushing off of the building slightly he kept his arms at his side not wanting to spook the kid, “Hey kid, I’ve got a proposition for you.” The kid looked spooked but he didn’t take off running so Dick continued on, “Let me have that apron of yours and I’ll pay you what would take you a year to earn in this place.”

The kid gave Dick a sideways look but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, “Here. Take it. I hate this job anyways.”

With a smile, Dick pulled a large wad of bills from his vest pocket as he took the apron off of his hands. Before he could even respond the kid turned and made his way out of the alley way. That worked better than Dick thought it would actually. 

Quickly tying it around his waist, he tossed his smoke away before he slipped in through the back entrance to the kitchen. No one seemed to notice a new face as the cooks worked diligently to fill all of their orders and the other servers were busy running back and forth from the main room. Clenching the vial in his hand he lifted the plate and quietly found a corner to empty its contents, spreading it all through the food that was on the plate. It looked delicious but he wasn’t here for that at the moment, there were more important things to deal with right now. 

With his best forced smile, Dick pushed through the swinging kitchen doors and made his way over to Mr. Carey’s table, “Here you go, Sir. It’s on the house.” With a wink he placed the meal in front of the man and waited a beat longer as he watched the man take a large bite of his chicken Parmesan. The stuff that Dick used would only need one bite but Dick wasn’t one to take chances and had emptied the entire thing, in a few more minutes, shit was really going to hit the fan and it was best if Dick wasn’t around for that. 

Looking back over his shoulder as he headed back towards the kitchen, Dick watched as Thomas Carey clutched at his throat wildly, a layer of foam slipping out of his lips. Dick couldn’t help but smile as he stepped out of the apron, tossing it onto the counter as he exited through the back door.

As soon as he was clear, he pulled the notebook out of his back pocket and crossed off another name. Onto the next he thought to himself.

No rest for the wicked after all.