Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Mel/Johnny, Sean Kelly, Various Police Officers
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, Holiday, (With A Touch Of Horror), Mystery, Romance
Rating (this chapter): R
Warnings: Aftermath of violence
General Summary: A decaying old house in a genteel Chicago neighborhood is the site of many strange and disturbing happenings. Special Agent Melvin Purvis is sent to investigate.
Chapter Summary: Everything is wrapped up at the House at 1313 Maple Street…or is it?
Date Of Completion: October 14, 2010
Date Of Posting: November 26, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 830
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for my 2010 Guns_Fedoras Public Enemies Fic/Art Halloween Challenge. :)
All chapters can be found here.
BAD MOON RISING
On Maple Street
"The House On Maple Street"
“God, these vermin are butchers.”
Captain Sean Kelly looked down in disgust at the hacked-up bodies strewn on the basement floor. The coroner and other cops were working around the room, flashbulbs popping as pictures were being taken of the grisly scene.
Mel stood next to Kelly, his hands in his greatcoat pockets. He not wanted to come back here, but there was the matter of several dead bodies and a counterfeiting operation to shut down. He just wished that the smell of blood wasn’t so strong.
“They must have fallen out amongst themselves.”
Mel hated to lie, but since he’d fallen in love with Johnny, it was no longer relevant to do the Boy Scout routine.
Kelly snorted. “Wouldn’t be surprised. These gangsters are just cheap thugs despite their nice clothes. Greedy as all hell, too.”
“Yes.” Mel felt a stab of guilt. His Johnny was quite capable of violence, especially in a fight with other gangsters, but not all the men he’d come to know were just mindless thugs. “Though maybe it was more of a dispute over territory.”
“Still greed fuelin’ it, bucko.” The captain’s slight brogue grew a little thicker.
“Wow, they not only shot each other, they stabbed each other,” commented the coroner.
“Funny, I see guns and spent bullets all around but no knives,” observed one of the officers.
“Weird,” Kelly muttered.
Mel silently agreed. He shivered under his greatcoat, wishing he could get out of here, but the Director wanted a Bureau presence on this case, and Mel couldn’t send Carter or Charles or Sam into this place. He was determined to see this through to the end.
“I wonder if poor Joey will be all right now.” Kelly removed his cap and wiped his brow with his handkerchief.
Uneasily Mel said, “I’m not sure. Joey has been sent to a place in his mind that I’m not sure he can come back from.”
Kelly sighed. “’Tis a shame, for sure.” He put his cap back on and his hands on his hips as he barked, “O’Toole! Careful of that evidence! Argh, rookies!”
Mel smiled a little. “I guess this’ll be a wrap-up, eh, Captain?”
“For sure, Mr. Purvis. Your Bureau, too. Imagine you findin’ these scoundrels when tryin’ to help our fine Joey.”
“Yes, well, do you need me anymore, Captain?”
“No, you can go, Mr. Purvis. I’ll want to see you for some follow-up. I’ll be in touch.”
“Of course. Here’s my direct line.” Mel handed Kelly his card.
Mel was glad to leave this room of death and walked up the stairs to the dark hall. He crossed the foyer with an increasingly-quickening stride, heart hammering as he thought he heard whispers and scratching sounds, something flickering out of the corner of his eye. He grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, stepping out onto the veranda with a huge sigh of relief as he shut the door firmly behind him.
Darkness was falling, Mel turning up his collar against the biting wind. Leaves skittered down the sidewalk as clouds blocked the rising moon.
A man stepped out of the shadows, startling Mel. Was it a plainclothes detective?
The rakish fedora and expensive greatcoat, allied with the confident way the man moved, made his identity known.
“Johnny!” Mel hissed, quickly looking over his shoulder. “You’re taking a big risk!”
White teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Risk adds spice to life, dontcha think?” He chuckled as he climbed up onto the veranda. “Besides, if you think I’m lettin’ you come to this house again without me, you’ve got another think comin’.” Johnny linked his arm through Mel’s. “Chicago’s Finest wrappin’ things up?”
“Yeah. Captain Kelly wondered if Joey O’Grady would recover now.” Mel frowned as they stepped off the veranda. “I don’t see how Joey could have been so traumatized by the spook show the Syndicate put on. I mean, all that mist and apparitions must have been faked by the Mob, right?”
“Seems logical,” Johnny drawled.
Mel took a deep breath. “Tony said they didn’t know about Joey. They made noises like chains rattling and moaning, but they never copped to…well…”
“So they say, Sunshine, so they say.”
Mel had to admit that Tony hadn’t been the most honest guy around. If he was bothered by the ghostly apparitions, unexplained drops in temperature, and the violence in the basement, he studiously ignored such thoughts.
He and Johnny walked down the weed-choked path to the front gates, not looking back toward the house at 1313 Maple Street, a ghostly face at an upper window staring out at the retreating men. An arm lifted, the moon coming out from behind the clouds, its light glinting off a long, bloodstained knife.
The wind moaned through the trees as Mel and Johnny walked down windswept Maple Street.