The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene Three Sub Scene Four

Act Seven

Scene Three

Sub-Scene Four

Dear mates, we have

 

Opium dens were typically portrayed as dark, hidden, underground spaces by the newspaper after some reporters suggested that to their readers. The den owners were supposed to entice and corrupt the patrons of these outlets. Most of these accusations were revealed to be lies. Opium smoking did spread eastward and catch on with a wide clientele from the members of urban underworlds and then more “respectable” people.

The subsequent Harrison Narcotic Act of 1914, originally intended as a regulation of medical opium, became a near-prohibition. President Woodrow Wilson’s Treasury Department used the act to stamp out many doctors’ practices of prescribing opiates to “maintain” an addict’s habit. The Supreme Court endorsed this interpretation of the law in 1919, when cities across the nation opened narcotic clinics for the addicted—a precursor to modern methadone treatment. The clinics were short-lived; the Treasury Department’s Narcotic Division succeeded in closing nearly all of them by 1921.

Some survived in their own enclaves, supported by their patrons.

It was also a money spinner like booze; that was the second attribute that spurred the establishments to set the moods.

Elliot was breathing through the handkerchief when he was ushering into the corridor with the chambers lined up alongside. From the outside street view, it looked like any medical clinic, but once you get in, you will be greeted by the list of ‘patients’ who were there to get the needed fix. He was led by Castella, with Albert at the rear. Chapin was outside in the vehicle for the fast getaway when needed.

“Charles Dickson?” Castella asked the staff there who was holding the pipes. The staff, who was not as oriental as assumed by many to work in such places, motioned to the chamber on the left. Castella looked towards it and saw the thin frame figure on one of the two velvet divans there. It was not any shabby den but an expensive décor chamber, with the phonograph at the corner churning out the jazz score. The walls of the chamber were adorned with gaily wallpaper depicting the beautiful trees and flowing streams.

The figure was middle-aged and lying on the divan without the jacket, his shirt unbuttoned with the opium pipe at his lips. The gun in the holster was on the table next to the divan.

“Who’s asking?” The guy lying there mumbled out, his eyes glassy. He was in a daze and took another puff on the pipe.

“Elliot Ness, Trea...” Albert stopped Elliot.

“Albert Buddy. I am from New York.” Albert raised his right finger to his lips toward Elliot. “I am here to ask you about Lucas Perry.”

“Treasury sicko.” The guy mumbled. “Yeah, I know him. What is up?”

“Lucas is a friend, but he was posted to Rome. It was a cushion task there, but he bungled it. He got his arse in some issues there and came down to see me.” The figure took another puff on the pipe. “I could not help.”

“What issues, Charles?” Elliot asked.

“Who are you? Where are you from again?” Charles asked. “Do I know you?”

“I am Elliot Ness, Treasury.” Elliot spoke out. “Charles, I need to see your badge.”

“To hell, I will show you.” Charles pushed himself up to a seated position and reached for the gun in the holster on the table by the divan. Castella rushed to grab the gun.

“Hey, that is my gun. If you hurt me, I will have you reported.” Charles looked at Albert and then Elliot. “Are you Treasury? Help me here. We are mates.”

“Charles, stay sober and tell us what Lucas was here for.” Elliot questioned the other agent. “Let me know.”

“Who are you again?” Charles was trying to focus. “Yeah, Lucas... He was here. He came to see me to get some scores on Egypt. He needed the numbers. I told him to fuck off.”

Charles slumped back on the sofa. Elliot grabbed him by the shoulders, but he was interrupted by the three staff that rushed in.

“Leave Mr. Dickson alone. He is not to be disturbed.” The three staff were bronzed and wore a simple tunic with ballon pants. “He is our customer.”

“Who are you?” The voice roared from the doorway. Elliot turned toward the person standing there. He was dressed like the other staff, but he held a huge cane in his left hand.

“Treasury A….” Elliot did not see the punch thrown by Castella, but it left the doorway open.

“Leave now!” Albert pulled Elliot out, followed by Castella. They ran out along the corridor towards the main entrance. Another staff member stood there and was body-slammed by Albert. Given the size of Albert, he made a fair tackle to clear the path. All three ran over the fallen staff and exited. Chapin saw the trio and pressed the pedal to drive over. He had the vehicle engine running since then; he was not keen to have the engine stalled when needed.

“Next time, Mr. Ness. Just say you are my mother’s nephew and not any Treasury agent, please. It may just give us some breather from being pursued.” Albert glanced behind. He then turned towards Chapin. “Can we go any faster? My mother could outrun us at this speed.”

No vehicle pursued them, and soon they were on the road out of Egypt. It was two hours when they pulled over at the street café there.

“Do you think we can all take a piss here?” Castella asked.