I hopped out of the cab out front of the Kelpie, a dive bar in the Irish Quarter. Joint was little more than a hole in a concrete wall, but it had been around long enough and attracted just the right kind of folks I needed.

Folks who’d do anything for a few breadcrumbs.

Drew, the doorman, gave me the long stare, hat pulled low over his bad eye. He may have been the size of a bear, but he always looked more ready to hibernate, a sleepy droop to his manner as he pushed the door open for me.

But I’d learned before, let sleeping bears lie.

The bar was dark, the air filled with smoke so thick it seemed the only light came from the fish tank that ate up the wall behind the stage. Happy looking little parrotfish swam their circles, blissfully unaware of the depravity that fueled their lives.

“Hey, Polly.”

I turned to see the tall drink of water who had called me to this ginsoak.

Proud and tall Susan took center stage, one handsome dame, his flapper dress, stunning as ever.

“Smith, dear, get Polly an Amarok.”

Tom Collins extra rocks add lime.

Susan knew me well.

This barman, didn’t.

“Boss, um, I mean-“

“Don’t be a tart, Smith. Polly’s my guest.”

See, I’m no expert in mimicry, but I’m a ghost to many, so I couldn’t blame him for not knowing me.

But I slid him a dollar and he tottered off for limes.

“He’s back in town Polly.”

A fact I guessed already.

I’d seen the signs.

Big Donny was back in town.

Famous for his body count, no one had even seen his face, not even me.

Rumors said the man was feral as a serval, fierce and powerful, but self conscious about his size.

“He’s put the squeeze on us Polly, I nee-“

BANG

The gunshot rang from the shadows, the bar ringing as feathers flew and Susan slumped over falling off his stool.

The qilin’s screamed that day, that a true queen may be felled.

I flew at the assailant like a shot, but they disappeared around the corner and were lost. The only clue, a distinct scent, of gunpowder, and a cologne I recognized.

“Polly-?”

I turned quickly to see Susan sitting up, I hopped past the bartender who was pronking like a fainted goat.

Still alive, Susan smiled.

“Polly, I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I been shot sweetie, not even counting my war wounds.”

Susan was right, but I called it in all the same.

I knew this wasn’t the end, there would be more shots fired into nightclubs at the mention of me being on this case. It wouldn’t stop till I was as extinct as the dinosaurs.

So when someone wants you dead, you got to get to the source.

Hailing a cab I slipped the driver a chip.

Everyone knew the pokerchip well, The Lucky Vixen was the go to casino for the worst kind of folk.

Big Donny back in town meant he’d be sitting his throne up there for sure.

But he should have stayed gone, because he was in for it now.

Susan had taken a bullet for me.

Big Donny was about to find out I was no sloth.

He had missed, I wasn’t about to make the same mistake.