Banker, publisher, and most notably, shipping contributor William Livingstone has been memorialized 5 years after his passing with the construction of a lighthouse on the eastern end of Belle Isle.

47 feet in height, and constructed of Georgia marble granite (the only of its kind), the lighthouse serves the Detroit River passageways below, using the repurposed copper lamp from a previous lighthouse to illuminate the increasingly busy waterways surrounding it.

Not generally open to the public, the lighthouse is situated in a relatively untravelled portion of the Isle. It is for this reason that it has become an ideal meeting place for those conducting business better done after dark. 

Occasionally, two small boats go in, and only one leaves. So far, the Detroit River has not given up any of its darker secrets. 

Angela ran her fingers over the chiseled name in marble above the doorway. William Livingstone. A successful man, very successful indeed. Not many bank presidents die at their desk. As an accountant, she had to respect that. Angela quickly picked the lock, went inside, and began to climb.

"33, 34, 35-" She'd been whispering the number of steps as she rose, but the door creaking open below threw off her count. Hopefully the inordinate amount of perfume she'd worn was equally as distracting to her companion below. Angela increased her pace, eventually reaching the top of the lighthouse. Once there, she pressed the ceiling hatch, climbed out, and positioned herself against the railing. Wind caressed her cheeks and tugged at her hair, which she'd pulled back with a black velvet ribbon that matched her dress and shoes. One of her hands rested inside her patent-leather pocketbook, but it was much too dark for anyone to even see it, out here. In a moment's time, the hatch opened again, and her winded companion crawled out.

"Top of a lighthouse? Really?" He looked around, his arms spread out in confusion. Coitus would be next to impossible up here, but if sex with this dame got him out of his debts with her, it was a win-win, even with all that climbing. And cat hair. "So uh, how you wanna do this, Doll?"

He was approaching quickly, and Angela would rather die than have his grubby hands touch her. She lifted her handbag and fired through it. She had always hated this purse anyway- too flashy. Grubby Hands, aka Gregory Hand, began to fall, and Angela just barely managed to push him back, away, and over the railing. She then leaned over it herself to watch his descent. His body hit the marble steps below with a nasty CRUNCH, and then two dark figures slipped out from behind the lighthouse pillar and grabbed his crumpled form by the armpits. He was drug several feet and then deposited handily into the Detroit River as Angela watched, the occasional pulse of the lighthouse temporarily illuminating the process like a slow strobe.

"No cookie!" Angela pulled a face and then began to descend. By the time she reached the bottom, her two henchmen were there to escort her back to their small boat. One of the two men had already put a hole in the bottom of the second boat, which had long since beaten Hand to the bottom of the river.

His vision was all blurry and his head felt like he had been kicked by a horse. Smithy opened his eyes, wondering why the hell everything was foggy. Had he really drunken himself into another blackout? He looked around trying to figure out where he was as his eyes gazed upon what looked like a lighthouse. How did he end up here out of all places? Must have been one hell of a night, that's for sure. He got up and walked around for a bit, didn't spot a single person as he walked up to the lighthouse. He went inside and took a little look, not anyone in there either, so he went back outside. He heard some boats or maybe it was his mind and the wind playing tricks on him, so he decided to shout!

"Hello, anyone here!?"

He wasn't sure if anyone heard him or not so he sat down up against th lighthouse wall as he tried to figure out where he was. He didn't really worry about how he got there, he just wanted to know where he was so he could head back into town again.

"Hello, anyone here!?"

Angela's head snapped around at the sound of the shout. There was someone else out here!

"You two, you didn't see anyone else?" Both henchman shook their heads in emphatic 'no's. Angela looked around again, but she couldn't see anything. Daylight was beginning to break, though, so maybe she should make absolutely sure that no one had just witnessed what she'd done out here. 

"Look around, see if you find any other boats." Angela climbed back out of the boat carefully and walked the path back towards the lighthouse. By the time she reached it, she could see the form of a man slumped at its base. Angela cleared her throat, but got no response.

"Ahem." She tried again, gently nudging the man with the toe of her shoe. "Excuse me Sir. Do you need some help? My friends and I have a small boat if you need to get back to the mainland. There's just enough room for you. Probably." This was one big dude. Angela should be more worried, but she'd reasoned with herself on the walk back over that if he'd seen something hinky, he wouldn't have called out. Besides, she still had a gun.

Smithy looks up confused following the sound of the voice in the distance, he was shockedd to hear a ladies voice out in the middle of nowhere or where ever he was. He walked towards it and saw a lady in a boat with two men, he wasn't sure what to think of it as his mind wasn't comepletely straight yet from the drinking.

"I could need a little help."

He notices that the woman was packing a gun, he however had no idea where his gun was, but he knew if push came to shove he could get creative in a pinch. He walked down to the boat and got in.

"Thanks for helping me back to the mainland."

He says with a friendly look on his face, after all he was outnumbered and they could easily dump him at sea, since no one knew where he was, hell he didn't know where he was.

"If you don't mind me asking, where are we?"

He chuckles.

Angela stared at the man for a moment, then offered him a small smile.

"This is the Livingstone Memorial Lighthouse, on Belle Isle, on the Detroit River. We're not far from Detroit itself." She didn't want to have to explain what she'd been up to out here, nor could she think of a way to explain the two men out here with her, so she ignored all that and kept up the light, friendly chatter.

"Marble. Some artsy-fartsy artist designed the lighthouse out of marble. It's the only one like it, anywhere. There's a lot of copper parts, too, so I imagine there will be lots of theft and vandalism soon. Are you okay? You look a little peaked, if you don't mind me saying so. Here." There was a thermos in the boat, one filled with good, strong coffee, and she offered it to him now.

"Black coffee, help yourself to it. My name is Angela. I live here. Well not HERE here, but here in Detroit. Are you in town for a visit?"

Smithy smiles and listens to the woman explain where he was, now he really startd to wonder how he got there. But he was sure there was some logical reason as to why he was there. But he did wonder what a woman with two henchmen were doing out there.

"Well that explains the lighthouse."

He chuckled lightly.

"I probably shouldn't ask, but why were you at this lighthouse, it all seems very random to me."

He looks at her and smiles, accepting a cup of coffee.

"I think I'm okay, I just got no idea how I got here."

He takes a huge sip from the coffee, he really needed that right now.

"I remember being in Detroit, but then I starte drinking, don't know what happened next though."

He extends his hand.

"Name's Smithy, pleased to meet you Angela."

Angela took his hand and delicately shook it. She was immediately reminded that he could crush her like a bug if he had half a mind to. 

"It's nice to meet you, too, Smithy. I, um. Well." She hated, absolutely hated lying to anyone about anything. She was also very bad at it. The best she could do was speak as much of the truth as she could, and hope it satisfied his curiosity. 

"Well the fact of the matter is, I had a date here tonight. It, uh. It didn't work out. I waited up there at the top, and he just- well, he's not here. My friends are taking me home now." She flapped her hand at the men at the other end of the boat. 

"I don't suppose you're from Pennsylvania, by any chance? I was there recently, and I drank this thing I thought was soup. It was actually very strong alcohol, and it made me so drunk I don't even remember leaving that place, or that city. So I guess I know the feeling." 

Smithy shook her hand softly.

"I'm sorry to hear about your date, at least you can say you've been to a lighthouse, that's not something everyone can say. So at least there's that."

He chuckles, trying to mask how stupid that might have come off as he watches her flapp her hands at the henchmen.

"I'm not from Pennsylvania, but that sounds like my kinda soup if it gets you drunk and fills your stomach."

He laughs wondering what kinda alcohol it might have been.

"At least a good story might come out of it."

"I'm not so sure. I woke up the next day feeling very embarrassed. One of my crew- er, one of my co-workers was there, along with another business associate, and I hate to think of the impression I may have left. I don't do very well, socially speaking. I mean, you're very easy to talk to, but we kind of met under odd circumstances." She smiled again as land approached. Raising her finger, she pointed out the silhouette of her car. 

"That's my automobile right there. I don't see any others, can we give you a ride somewhere? It's no trouble." 

"I can understand that one, the trick is to just walk out pretending that it's a normal day for you, and no one will bat an eye."

He chuckles.

"I like to consider myself pretty easy to talk to, but I agree we did meet under odd circumstances."

Smithy smiles.

"I wouldn't mind a ride into town if it's no hassle."

"I'll have to try and remember that if it happens again. I'm pretty sure walking out was part of the issue though. I'm fairly certain I was talking to inanimate objects, and I know for a fact that I was not walking in a straight line. If you're ever in Philly, beware of the 'hot toddy'. It is most certainly not soup. I think a beer came in after that, and then things get murky in my head." She was still very embarrassed about the whole incident. 

"Is there somewhere you'd like to go? Detroit has many fine hotels and restaurants, and they should all be open by now. We can see you to the airport, if you need to get back to.... where did you say you were from?" 

"That sounds like a pretty wild night if you ask me, don't be embarrassed though, it happens to the best of us."

He smiles sweetly hoping she wasn't too embarrassed, he ended up in situations like she had mention quite often.

"I wouldn't mind grabbing something to eat, is there any place you'd recommend? I'm from Las Vegas."

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pair of sunglasses, thankfully they hadn't broken.

"Oh, Las Vegas! I've been there before. It's very-"

Smithy had put on a pair of sunglasses, and it helped her find the right word. "Bright. Sunny and bright!" They were out of the boat now and moving toward the car.

"Let's see. There's a fajita place that's pretty good, a bit on the spicy side however. Oh and there's a very good Asian restaurant, I know the lady who runs it and she really knows her stuff. I like the tea there a lot. There's an Italian place, too, and tons of cafes and shops that offer smaller meals. What kind of food do you like, Smithy?"

"It's pretty bright indeed, sometimes even at night, with all the flashing lights, which is why I always keep a pair of shades handy."

He smiles.

"Asian food sounds delightful to be honest, what do you think?"

Smithy adjusts his shades a little, he was starting to become pretty hungry. He'd be happy to eat just about anything right now.

Had he just asked her to join him? Angela blinked, then blushed a little. She wasn't sure how to act, no one had invited her to dine with them before. 

"Oh. Well, I- " Can't think of a single reason to say no to a good meal with a nice man. 

"Um. Yes, yes Asian does sound delightful." The two henchmen could hear everything from the front seat of the car, so there was no point in telling the driver to head to Hanabi's Imperial Dragon. The car turned out of the parking lot and began to go exactly where it needed to. 

Smithy smiles as he notice Angela blush, then he looks at one of the henchmen and he tries not to smile.

"I hope they got something unique to try out there."

He sits back in his seat as the henchman still looks at him, Smithy was starting to wonder if the guy thought he was up to something or if he really liked him.

Angela had been chasing this Pavone character since Chicago. He was a squirrelly one, hence the excessively high bounty to be paid out upon his death. He'd made a series of mistakes, though, by first running off to Angela's city, and second, thinking this newly-opened lighthouse on the island was a good place to elude her.

And now here they were. It was mid-morning, and no one was out visiting the memorial on this frozen Thursday in December. The lighthouse continued its intermittent, blazing duty as first Pavone, and then Angela ran inside of it through the busted entry door that hadn't yet been repaired. Pavone had a good lead, pushing through the hatch at the top of the stairs first. He wasn't sure what he was going to do once the broad with the gun came through it, but he'd figure out something. 

"Good God! What the hell is that?!" Pavone had just discovered the splatter of the last fellow Angela had trapped up here, the one who'd thought he could escape his debt to her by taking her out on a romantic 'date' in the new lighthouse. The lighthouse keeper hadn't been up here yet to refill the oil, and since this part of the memorial wasn't supposed to be open to the public, no one had seen, or cleaned up, the smear his guts had left behind when he'd been shot there.

Angela finally came up through the hatch, winded. Of course she'd chosen a low heel today, rather than a slipper.

"I see... you've met... naw. I'm too tired for witty banter." Angela lifted her pistol and fired, then turned and slowly made her way back down the stairs. Her men were just now running into the clearing and up the marble steps.

"He's up there. You know what to do." Angela waggled her pistol at the top of the lighthouse, then trudged back towards the sedan, hoping one of the guys had left a coffee in there that she could steal the remains of.