Gods of Chicago: Omnibus Edition by AJ Sikes Page A

insides to jelly. Three men, shredded in their sleep. Hardly enough left to make sense of what had been killed much less who.
    He wrote up a quick radio spot on the dead tramps, knowing he should keep it clean like he’d been told. But Brand couldn’t resist the urge to warn the people of Chicago City. The victims yesterday morning were top dollar, and today they were penny ante. If the murderer was a monster and decided to go after folks in between. . .Brand winced as he read the descriptions of the three dead men. Even though there wasn’t much left to describe.
    Ladies and Gentlemen of Chicago City, this is Mitchell Brand with the Chicago Daily Record. Some disturbing news has come to us this morning. Three men, found murdered in their sleep last night. The men were among the noble class of residents who enjoy life by the riverside.
    Down and out they may have been, but to die like. . .This reporter has been asked to keep the details under wraps, but for all our sakes a more thorough telling is called for. Be watchful, ladies and gentlemen. And be warned. Killers are on the loose in Chicago City, and we’ve all seen what they’re capable of.
    For the full story on last night’s murders, catch a copy of the Daily Record. They’ll be sailing down to the streets within the hour.
    Stay tuned, Chicago. And stay in touch.
    He felt like the story called for more, but with his hazy head from last night’s long hours he couldn’t put his finger on what was missing. Just his luck, Chief knew exactly what was missing and rang Brand on the radiophone as soon as he’d shut off the mic.
    “Brand, I said—”
    “You said. And I heard. I also heard what you didn’t say, but I didn’t catch all of it. I’ve got the Farnsworth story to do, still. So unless you’ve remembered what you were chewing on upstairs, I’ll get back to the news.”
    “Do me a favor, Mitch. I’m asking nice, but it’s all I can do not to say you’re fired. Just keep it on the QT as best as you can. You and me both know there’s more to say. There’s always more to say about every story comes through our hands. But sometimes you gotta play hush. It’s how the game goes, Mitch. You know that.”
    Brand did know it, and he knew it had to be something heavy weighing on Chief’s head to make him bring that card into play.
    “Okay, Chief. For you. For old time’s sake.” Brand let a little syrup coat his words, just so Chief knew he still wasn’t happy about being muzzled. Chief cut the connection after a grunt, leaving Brand still wondering what had gotten into his old friend’s head so deep that it would come to slapping a gag over Brand’s mic.
    Archie would show up in a bit, to get them into the sky for the afternoon. The only thing on Brand’s docket until then was a radio report about Josiah Farnsworth. Thinking about that set Brand to grinding his teeth in frustration. If the old man had gone quietly in his sleep, it’d just be another society death. Brand could have dashed it off and forgotten the matter. But this death spelled more than tragedy for the society folks. It was tied up in a mess of dirty dealings. And it wasn’t the only one, Brand reminded himself. He wanted to say something about Jenkins, but both the Commissioner and Chief had sworn him to keep hush about it.
    Brand settled into his chair and finished a smoke. He rolled another and lit it before reopening the broadcast link with the Record’s spire.
    Good afternoon, Chicago City. This is Mitchell Brand again, with the Daily Record.
    Today we mourn the loss of a city patriarch. Josiah Gabriel Farnsworth shot himself to death last night. He was a strong man. A powerful man.
    Brand paused there, remembering the cards Madame Tibor had placed in his hand. Then he mentally kicked himself for letting hokum break his stride. He drew in a lungful and continued the report.
    Josiah Farnsworth was also a man in a game with heavy competition. Maybe that tells us enough to