Sin City II

Cesspool, USA and don’t let no body tell you different… From the Midcity business district, to the HarborTown wharf…from redlight district of Old Town, to the tenement poverty stricken garbage strewn projects of the Burrows…..from the bars and clubs of Streetersville, to the tree lined suburbs of the rich in Upstate, and then there was Outlying….the wooded deserted highways and roads on the outskirts of Basin….near the city limits itself and only minutes from the Tar Pits……

Name is Nathen Harrigan, Private Investigator. I live and work in Basin City, a place where I can hardly imagine a decent person would want to live. As I sit in the strip club Leather and Lace in Old Town, drinking my drink I ponder the happenings of the last few weeks. A hooker had been killed which pissed off the girls in Old Town to no end. They thought a big hulking brute named Marv had killed her but learned that it had been ordered by Cardinal Rourke. Marve had made a mess of the Cardinal before he killed him. It was said that He had done it because of the Hooker that was called Goldie. They fried the poor bastard in the chair, hell if he could have he would have pinned a medal on the Son of a Bitch for doing in the rotten god forsaken Cardinal who should had been striped of his position by the pope years ago.

I lit up a cigerate and took a draw on it, slowly letting out the smoke. I watched the girls dancing and striping for the drunks, first timers hoping to get laid, bankers and business men that had come down to Old town for a good time and could pay for it. Most were married and wanted something different from the ordinary lives they lead. They treated the girls good, gave them good tips. But there were a few that just didn't seem to lean or get it through their heads, you did not mess with them, you did not cheat them, hurt them or the like. Those seemed to just disappear. I took another sip of my drink as I waited for Margo to arrive. It was her club and I knew her well, even if the women there took care of matters, sometimes they needed help and when it came to Margo, I was there for her.

My Uncle was found dead out at a farm just outside of the city. It looked like he had shot himself. In the barn was the remains of what was Senator Rourke's son. He had finally finished what he had started eight years before. But why had he killed himself many asked? I received all his personal things and among them were the letters written to him by some woman that no one knew. No one knew who she was or where she lived. Only that she lived in the city. It was said he had lipstick on his cheek and lips when he was found. I could only surmise it was the woman that had written him and he had rescued her from the yellow skinned skum bag and killed himself to protect her. It would be the only reason that his uncle would kill himself.

Rourke was behind my Uncles death and my father's. I knew he had to be. My father was onto something big, and Rourke's name was on a paper that I had seen before all his stuff was taken in to custody as evidence when he was killed. I figured my old man had gotten to close to something that Rourke was involved in, something that would or could bring him down, and he was killed for it. Now I had another reason to try and find that evidence, or something that would bring the powerful man down. It was not going to be easy but I was sure going to give it a try. Damn where the hell was Margo. I finished my drink and order another as I finished my cigerate and crush it out.