Free Gods of Chicago: Omnibus Edition by AJ Sikes Page A

says.”
    “Yeah? And what do you say?”
    “Me? Hell, Mitch. You know me better than that. Now c’mon and get in line with the rest of us joes, hey? Send the kids up when they get in.”
    Brand let it sink in. Sure enough, somebody wanted to scare the newsboys, and the same somebody wanted Brand to clam up, too. “You can have Digs and Conroy when they get here.”
    “Jenkins, too.”
    “He won’t be in today, Chief. He came by my rooms last night.”
    “You telling me you got the kid sauced and left him in your rooms to sleep it off?”
    “I’m telling you that he came by my place after an appointment with Capone’s boys. They delivered him. Most of him. His left arm was missing and so were his legs at the knees. I’m betting you don’t want Digs and Conroy seeing anything like that. I know I sure as hell don’t.”
    Chief stared at his desk and then let his eyes flick up to meet Brand’s.
    “I’m. . .I’m sorry, Mitch.”
    Brand let out the breath he’d been holding and clenched his jaw tight, forcing the tears and angry words back down his throat. All he could think about was Jenkins’ bloodied face. Holding his head in his hands, Brand said “You can tell the Commissioner or whoever it is that they don’t need to worry about Jenkins talking to anybody.”
    Shaking himself to pull his heart out of his shoes, Brand stood to leave. Chief told him to wait. When Brand turned to look at him, he saw Chief’s eyes flashing on that look from the trenches again.
    “Something else you need to tell me, Chief?”
    “Yeah,” he said, the issue of Jenkins’ murder apparently forgotten. He lifted a page of notes from his desk and handed it across to Brand. “Three more dead tramps last night.”
    “Where’d it happen?” Brand asked, feeling the room begin to spin. He fought to control the floor with his feet.
    “Their camp. Over by the riverside. It isn’t going to be a pretty story, not by a long shot. Keep the blood on the QT. Stick to the facts and only as many as you need to make it news.” Chief was almost done, but then he let his fingertips rest together and brought them up to his lips.
    “Just in case. I’d better get that picture box from you. No more nabbing shots from the crabs, at least not until things blow over a bit. It’s too hot right now.”
    Brand felt the room settle around him. The spinning stopped. He looked Chief in the eye. “You’re not bluffing.” Brand passed the photo viewer through the stony silence. Chief tucked it into a drawer without looking at it, instead letting his gaze rest on the papers covering his desk while he chewed at the inside of his lips. Brand had seen Chief work his jaw like that plenty of times, and he knew it meant his friend had something else on his mind. Something that would stay unspoken. Brand spun on his heel and stormed out, heading straight for the lift. He needed the security of his office around him. Maybe he needed a slug from the bottle in his desk.
    The lift stopped at the fourth floor and he got out, nearly running over the two newsboys he had left.
    “Mr. Brand!” Conroy piped up with a grin on his mug. Brand tried to match the mood, but his face didn’t cooperate. Conroy’s grin slid off his face and Digs came up behind him, wearing the same worried look.
    “What’s the story, boss?” Digs asked.
    Brand told them about Jenkins, leaving out the details. Then he directed them up to Chief’s office for the debriefing with the Commissioner.
    “I guess the Commissioner wants to know if any riots started when people saw the front page.”
    “Well, hey,” Digs said. “That’s easy enough then, ain’t it? We can tell him like it happened. Didn’t one of us sell a single paper yesterday.”
    “How’s that?” Brand demanded, rounding on the boy, who jumped back a step.
    “Honest, Mr. Brand. I think Conroy here got the farthest of all of us, but, well you tell him,” Digs shoved his friend’s shoulder. Conroy gave Brand a