Tower
of the Blue Horses Tower
of the Blue Horses 
Frank's office was the only other room with two doors reaching to the top of the ceiling in the penthouse built just for him. There was a thick, cream carpet that drew the eyes toward the mahogany base runners and up the white wall. A wooden frame also joined the ceiling and wall. White molded swirls of ivy and flowers brought the eye to a large chandelier hanging above it all. Glass with golden trim, the chandelier could be seen through the large bay window by passing ships at night. Below that, rested Frank's eternal business, a grand mahogany desk. Upon the desk sat a small stack of papers, Frank's brand new stationary with a wax sealer. The sealer had Frank's monogram engraved on it and next to that, in the middle of the desk, sat a brand new model 4.2 Bell telephone. The latest and most expensive phone on the market, and Frank was proud of his investment. He was proud of all of his investments. He had worked his way up from the pit-holes of society. Now, he set the standards for society.
The boys came in, Cecille dutifully poured the cups of coffee as she usually did. The men were able to greet the portrait of Louise that hung on the side wall and then sat in their normal seats. Seeing all was taken care of, Cecille left the private office to begin the day's chores.
Frank refrained from his normal "Hiya, boys" greeting in his fake New York accent and went right to business. "Where's Jesse?" asked Frank gruffly, a scowl on his brow as he noted that his little brother was absent. It ticked him off that Jesse at times had such a lackadaisical attitude towards their morning meetings. He wished Jesse would take things a bit more seriously.
A little startled by the inconsistency, the men took a few seconds to adjust. They normally replied to Frank's "Hiya, boys," with a "Hiya, boss." That was the greeting every morning. It was an inside joke for the small group of bit time mobsters who had somehow made their way to the top. However, today was different and there were only two possibilities as to why. One, a family member died, or two, someone screwed up…badly.
"Late as usual. Give him five minutes," Dawkins finally answered. Adrian Dawkins and Jesse James were close in age, and closer in mind-set. He knew exactly where Jesse was, but no way was he going to tell Frank. Adrian and Jesse had become close friends. He thought of Jesse as almost a brother. Dawkins was grateful enough to Jesse for having saved him from a good skinning by Frank on several occassions. His loyalty rested in Frank but his love in Jesse.
"When's that boy gonna realize we don't got five minutes!" Frank responded angrily.
Jesse was having his morning coffee with Louise. They conversed over the paper, she brought up topics, and he changed the subject. He had become accustomed to his morning coffee with Louise. Time grew short, he excused himself, and joined Frank and the boys in the office.
"Mornin' boys," Jesse greeted as he entered. The men nodded their heads, and then returned their attention to Frank. "Mornin' Frank," Jesse nodded at his brother.
"You're late," Frank replied.
"Sorry Frank," Jesse responded simply as he found his seat next to Adrian.
"I don't want to hear I'm sorry's coming from you." he charged. "It is time you start taking responsibility. It is time you arrive on time…no excuses."
Jesse let out a sigh at Frank. He wished that Frank would let up and get off
his back!
Once every two months he received this lecture from Frank, and he always rolled
it off as if it meant nothing. It meant exactly that, nothing. Frank was neither
Jesse's father nor keeper.
Still, Jesse realized it was due to Frank's vision, his tenaciy, his hard labor, and strong hand that they were where they were today. His reputation clothed them all, even him, and he had to respect his brother for that. They were one family. Loyalty was not asked, it was required.
Frank and Jesse employed no more than fifty men throughout the world at any given day. At least thirty of those lived no further than fifty miles out of Chic-Town. A select few worked mainly for the coffee business. The business front the James' used to cover the real family business. Among the rest, fifteen had been to the house, only ten to the office and five of those got the privilege, only to never again see daylight. That left five men. Five men who had earned the honor of having coffee in the morning with the boss. Jesse, of course, was included. They called themselves the Dawn Breakers, but known throughout the rest of the gang as the Coffee Club. Made up of Frank, Jesse, Adrian Dawkins, Emory Pike, Jeffery "Hawk" Hawkins, and Bo, the Dawn Breakers were united.
Dawkins, Pike and Hawk were smart men. They each brought a fresh hand of cards to the table. Masterminds at what they did, they were paid top dollar. Each one was indebted to Frank in a way. Pike sought the help of the mob boss years ago when he was falsely accused by another member in a rival mob family of money laundering. Hawk gained the interest of the James brothers from his ties with the local law and certain government officials. He hated the government and their choke-hold on the people. He crossed the forbidden line of oath and the James' weren't about to turn him down. He was now a marked man himself. Labeled a traitor in those circles. A dirty cop, and that was the worst. Adrian for his part, fell into company with Jesse and the rest was history. They were his family now. His own abandoned him and he had to find a life of his own making. His friendship with Jesse gave him that chance. And then there was Bo. Bo was there for his muscles and family connections; nothing else. He was Frank and Jesse's number one protector and would kill and die for his cousins.
Frank had already read Teaspoon's article. It was true, one-hundred percent true. Frank still racked his brains as to who this Teaspoon fella was, but a blind guess leads to a bad guess which leads to a dead end. It was pointless focusing on the mystery writer, so he redirected that anger to the foul up from last night. Something had gone wrong.
Frank walked over to his desk, his brow furrowed deeper in discontent. He picked up the morning's newspaper, walked over to his men and threw it at Hawk.
"What the hell is that?!" he cried.
Hawk picked up the newspaper which had hit him square in the chest and read the headline. He said nothing as Frank's voice fumed, "How the hell do you explain this to me?"
He passed the article to Pike next who only waved at it saying he'd already
read it. Dawkins took the article and merely folded it, not bothering to read
it.
"Somebody better start talking here! It wasn't done right, damn it!"
Frank blurted out, scolding the four men sitting in the furniture in front of
him.
"Why do you say that?" asked Bo.
"I agree," Pike snapped in. "If it had been done RIGHT, we wouldn't be under suspicion so quickly. It was sloppy. They have evidence, I know it," he finished assertively.
"Pike, don't get so antsy so quickly. Yes, there were some mistakes, but we still have some things on our side." Dawkins interrupted.
Frank gestured for Dawkins to pass the newspaper. He glared again at the picture of the men on the front page of the paper. He showed it to them. "Do you see this? Do I need the damn cops breathing down my ass like this?!" he yelled.
"Frank calm down," Jesse started. "Like Adrian said, we have some things on our side."
"Like?" he questioned, trying to calm his temper but his blood was boiling hot.
"Emery, what's the weather been like for the last week?" Jesse asked.
"Rain! But what does that have to do with anything?" he responded annoyed.
Jesse asked another question. "What was the weather like last night?"
"Rain."
"And this morning?" he continued.
The other men just watched Jesse, searching for his purpose. Frank and Hawk already knew where he was headed, so he remained focused on the paper and the article.
"Jesse, it was raining and it still is!" he growled, not getting the sense of this line of questioning.
"Exactly! Any evidence left behind, which I assure you there was none, but if so, it would've been washed away before they got there."
"Spoken like a genius kid," commended Hawk. "It couldn't be more perfect. They're just trying to get Frank to make a mistake. If we all keep our heads and nobody panics," he glanced at Pike, "let the cops fill in the gaps if they can. There's no need for us helping them," he stated, resting back easily on his chair.
"We assure you, it was done right. It was clean. Thorough," Dawkins chimed in glancing at Frank.
Unfortunately, he wasn't very confident himself, but no one sensed it in his tone. Adrian was young and inexperienced. He feared the James' brothers with the utmost respect. Frank recognized his response with a quiet nod.
All felt somewhat relieved. Frank then continued on with business. "At eleven we have to be at the warehouse. No delays!" he looked at Jesse. "Everything must be perfect, the inspector is coming and things must be in order."
Things were always "in order" and Frank, Jesse, and all of the other men knew it. Sometimes for Frank being the number one businessman, he lacked confidence in his company. The simplicity of his life was found in the complications of his job. But last night wasn't simple, it was a statement. Of course it was the James' brothers who murdered Caulder. Who else would it have been? No other group of mobsters could have pulled off a murder like that one. If one tried, Frank quickly showed them their place in the food chain…the bottom. It wasn't as if he had been handed a lucky ace, he just seemed to stack the cards right.
Frank grinned, feeling an utter sense of relief himself. He read the headline again, grateful that this thorn in his side had been removed once and for all. Of course, he wasn't an unsympathetic kind of man. He called to Adrian.
"Adrian, send flowers and a note to Mrs. Caulder. Let it read, "In times like these, it is helpful to know that you can rely upon your friends. Signed, Frank James, III" Yup, that sounds good."
"With friends like you, who needs enemies?" Pike chimed in with a chuckle. All of the men got a laugh out of that comment. They expected nothing less of Frank.
"Well, boys, see you back at the warehouse," that was all they needed to know before they were excused. They quietly exited the room, walked down the hallway, and left the house.
In the large circular driveway, three black cars waited. Pike, Bo and Hawk piled into one car and Adrian climbed into the next, awaiting his normal companion, Jesse. The first sped away into the morning rain heading for the warehouse.
Frank and Jesse remained in the office finishing off their third or fourth
cups of coffee.
"It will be a good day, brother," Frank commented gazing out into
the stormy morning sky.
"Yeah? What makes you think so?"
"Because every anniversary should be celebrated…it is a good day to celebrate." Jesse was not sure which anniversary he was suggesting, but didn't ask.
"See you at the warehouse?" Jesse asked inquisitively.
"Give me twenty minutes. Get working on the normal arrangements for the company. Remember, no mistakes." A final pointed finger was given.
Jesse left the office and joined Adrian out in the car. They left quickly.
Frank walked down the hallways to peek in at Louise. She was in bed and lightly snoring. Louise was beautiful when she slept. No matter how angry he ever was, he could never ignore her beauty. Louise James could still light up a bar by just stepping in the door. Frank knew that and respected that. However, there were so many problems between the two of them. He wasn't sure how to work them out. He was never sure. Although frustrated how he treated her that morning, Frank was almost positive that she had gone back to old memories and a man named K.I.D. Kid almost always over took her thoughts during lovemaking. He had seen it in her eyes again this morning and finally, Frank just blew up.
Frank shut the door as quietly as he opened it, left the house to get into his own chauffer driven car that awaited. It was 10:45a.m, only one hour and forty-five minutes until the inspectors came. The gang would be ready.
The clicking of the typewriter echoed from the other side of the door. Click-clack, click-clack, clicketty, clack. Over and over again. Jimmy sat at his desk, the rhythmic sound of Rachel's typewriter making it hard for him to concentrate. He was anxious. He fidgeted through stacks of papers, tried to put the pieces of this murder together in his head but there were too many if's, and's, and but's to make any sort of an educated guess. Yet he had a great instinct for motive and he couldn't get the James' brothers out of the mental lineup in his head.
Tick, tock; tick, tock; tick, tock. Jimmy looked to the clock sitting high on the wall. He sat mesmerized by the steady, moving hand, minutes ticking oh so slowly away. Ten seconds...twenty seconds, a glance back to the clacking of Rachel's typewriter, followed by the zip of the return bar. Forty seconds...forty-five. His eye wadered to the opened window. The downpour outside was now a light drizzle. Sixty seconds. The cycle began all over again. Precious time slowly passing by and not a word had come from any of his men. He stared at the black telephone on his desk, his hand ready to draw, as if it rested on the trigger of a gun readied to be fired, once a ring came forth. But nothing. It was torture.
Muffled voices caught his attention as he heard footsteps approaching. Shadows suddenly came into view through the frosted pane on the office door. Jimmy sat up at attention. He heard Rachel's heels traipse over the floor and as he got up, the door burst open, the clamour of chattering voices pouring through.
"Let me get your coats," she offered, following behind Cody and Kid.
"Thanks Rachel," Kid replied grateful, peeling his tan coat off his body. Cody followed suit, handing his over to her. Rachel exited with coats in hand, shaking the rain's moisture from them as the door closed behind her. Tentative eyes glanced at the man behind the desk as hats were hung on the coat rack. Jimmy looked on with disapproving eyes and a mouthful of curses longing to blurt out.
Jimmy stood still. His steely eyes showed the feelings boiling inside. "I think he's mad," noted Cody.
"Who Jimmy? Naaah-" joked Kid, looking dead in the eyes of his long time friend.
Anger flared up Jimmy's nostrils and suddenly, "Where the hell have you been Kid?!" Then turning to the blonde haired one added, "And you! What's your damn excuse?!"
Kid and Cody said nothing. Kid slunk down in the chair in front of the desk while William moved on to the window, reserved to look at the cloudy sky outside, hands stuffed in his pockets.
"We were doing our jobs Jimmy, what do you think?" Kid looked up with a hard glare.
"Oh...your jobs?" came the sarcastic question. "Are you two forgetting that this is a team! There is no I in team last time I checked!" he blared, his head throbbing. Jimmy shut his eyes tight, fighting off the pain. He opened his eyes just to see two of everything, his fingers rubbing them to set focus.
"That is exactly why I didn't tell you anything. You get your blood all riled up for what?" Kid scolded.
"I'm fine!"
"Sure you're fine!" Kid scolded back. "That's always the answer!"
"Ain't love just grand? I especially like how it makes us feel all warm and cozy-like." William quipped.
"Shut the hell up Cody!" they both yelled, just to burst out in laughter a second later.
The door burst open again.
"Sounds like things are picking right up where we left them huh Ike?" Noah's strong voice came through the opened door.
Ike only shook his head, hanging his hat by the others.
"'Least we know we're in the right place," Noah added behind a bright smile.
This was usually the way the day began. Commotion rained everywhere. But it was one of those oxymorons people usually laugh about. Ordered chaos in their case. Everyone knew their assignment, their place and their duty though you wouldn't think it if you were an outsider looking in.
"Coffee everyone?" came the roll call from Rachel, as she hustled back in with a fresh pot and a brown paper bag in one hand.
Heads nodded while voices replied, "Sure." "Not for me, thanks." "Fill 'er up to the brim Raych."
Rachel went about fixing the cups. Cody, two sugars and lots of cream. Noah, black was always fine. Ike, no sugar, just cream. Kid, depended on the day. Today? None today.
The boys found seats around the room, Cody sitting on his favorite down-beaten leather stool, while Noah and Ike sat on the two person couch. Rachel loved to see them all together, well, almost all together. There was one missing.
"Where's Buck?" she asked.
'He's out checking out a lead.' signed Ike. 'He should be back any minute.'
"What lead?" asked Jimmy.
"Some drunk said he might know something...someone, but you know how those alchy's are. They always know something," Noah quipped, taking the mug from Rachel. "Thanks."
"Catch William!" Rachel called, throwing the brown paper bag she had.
Cody caught it. He knew immediately what it was. "Rachel...I love you."
"I know."
Cody opened the half-wrinkled paper bag. His blue eyes peered anxiously in as he took a whiff of the contents. "Tell me I ain't died and gone to heaven." A polish dog the size of Texas itself, wrapped in butcher paper was pulled out by Cody's grateful hand.
He crumpled the bag, shooting it into the waste basket. He unwrapped his favorite treat. It was smothered with grilled onions, peppers and jack cheese. "Mmm...Mmmm!" he savored.
"Rachel..." he talked with a mouthful, "you're my angel."
"Where do you get that stuff at this time of the morning? That's what I want to know," Noah frowned, watching Cody devour the dog.
"Connections," she answered.
All eyes fell on her. "What? You boys think you're the only ones that got 'em?" she winked.
"Woah, Hoah..." chuckled Kid. "I think Mr. Tompkins down at the deli must have her fancied or something."
"Shut Up!" came next, along with a slap on the back of the head. "He's an old little man. He's just friendly is all," she defended, handing Ike his coffee mug. He nodded a thanks.
"Yeah, I heard that one before," Noah laughed.
'He's not friendly to anyone but you Rachel,' added Ike with a very big smile.
"Well whatever you're doing Rachel, keep on doin' it! My stomach will be forever indebted to you."
Rachel laughed. "You're already waaaay deep in debt there mister. I'd have to pull it out of your hide to get my share back."
"Well I'm sure Mr. Tompkins is indebted to Cody here for sure," Kid teased again.
"You boys are terrible. Brats." Rachel smiled coyly, leaving them to their business.
Smiling eyes and chuckling lips followed along as Rachel left the room. A light murmur of conversation came to an abrupt halt.
"So what have we got? Somebody tell me something," Jimmy began.
Cody chuckled behind a mouthful. "Plain and simple...nothing."
Kid could see the flare rising in Jimmy's eyes and quickness of thought helped to quelch another outburst.
"That ain't absolutely true. We got a body, and a time of death."
"And?" Jimmy asked.
"I know it's not much but we need to keep digging. I don't care how meticulous Frank James thinks he is. We know he did it. And he knows we know he did it."
"And he knows we know." Jimmy added, taking the newspaper article from his desk. He handed it to Kid who simply waved at it, pushing it out of sight.
"Yeah we saw it."
"That don't help us much either," Noah corrolated, regarding the article. "There are no clues tying him to the murder. This storm's washed all the evidence away. Car tracks, footprints...everything. We have no murder weapon, no crime scene period," added Noah.
'And the time of death? What is it?' Ike inquired.
Kid's blue eyes looked at his partners with concern. That news wasn't any better. "Coroner sets the time at around 10 or 11 last night."
"You ask me, we're in deep shit," all eyes turned to Cody.
Jimmy stood tall, his head pounding. "This is just wonderful," he snickered. His tired eyes scanned the faces of his loyal mates, his demeanor showed no pleasure. "We've got the murder of one of the highest mob bosses in Chicago and nothing to go on?!" he emphasized.
Kid once again, the patient fellow, the optimistic one interrupted. "Well not exactly. Buck's still out working on that lead. Hopefully he'll bring us back something."
"Hopefully? Hopefully?! You sound like a bunch of wishing wells up in here!" Jimmy scolded. "We have a job to do and we need to get it done. There is no room for error. There is no room to lax at the plow when we're dealing with the James Gang. We know they whacked Caulder. They're the only ones that could've profited from his death."
"Caulder had it coming. We knew that for months. We just didn't know when," Noah shifted in his seat, his coffee almost gone.
"Running off at the mouth didn't help his cause none," Cody stood, stretching.
"Amen to that," Noah agreed.
"Everyone from Chic-town to Vegas knew he was complaining about being under the thumb of Frank James. Even went as far as forming an alliance with the Longley outfit to overthrow Frank...now look where it got him." William reminded them.
Kid shook his head. "We know all of that. We can't go in front of the D.A. with wild guesses. We need hard core proof."
Ike rose, his hands on his hips in frustration. He signed off, his hands moving wildly.
"I know Ike. But Caulder's death is no proof. Yes, the James had the most to gain but anybody could've whacked him. Remember who we're dealing with. They'd kill their own mothers if it got them what they wanted."
The door burst open yet again.
"Sorry I'm late." It was Buck. All eyes shot in anticipation.
"So what you got?" came the rapid question from Jimmy.
"Nothing."
Jimmy raked his fingers through his short dark hair. The frustration in him mounting.
Rachel followed a few seconds after, a hot cup of coffee in hand for Buck. "Thanks Rachel." She smiled and stood aside to listen to the latest news.
Buck sipped the hot liquid. It went down nice and warm, soothing his insides. The best remedy for his chilled body.
"The one lead we do have, is a known drunk. Hangs around the tracks where we found the body. He said he was drinking with a man last night, scared out of his wits. Said he had heard something about a murder going down last night. The man told him he knew too much and had to hide before they found him."
"Who?"
"He couldn't remember. He said he went to the tracks to see if he could find the boogy man. He found Caulder instead. Called the police. Finding a dead body works wonders to sober up a fella," he snickered. "We just brought him in. He's down there looking at pictures. If we're real lucky he might just point a finger at someone."
Jimmy frowned. "Well lady luck hasn't been too kind to us today has she?
I'm gonna go down there and see if we can help our friend remember who this
ghost is."
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