No Pockets in a Shroud [Short Story]

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“You have an exaggerated idea of my talents,” I said. “I’m not a hired gunman.” Louis Bagnell allowed his face to smile, but his eyes neglected to join the effort. His smile was a gambler’s smile, which was appropriate since he controlled most of the gambling in the city — and had controlled all of it before a Chicago immigrant named Byron Wade began to muscle in. For ten years no one had opened a bookshop in town without Bagnell’s personal OK... Until Wade came along. But suddenly six new shops sprang up, and the rumor was Wade hadn’t asked permission. Up to now Bagnell’s E4 Patio had been the only casino in town too, but tomorrow was the grand opening of Byron Wade’s North Shore Club, and the engraved invitations issued to a carefully selected clientele were rumored to intimate everything from slot machines to roulette would be available. It didn’t require a Master’s Degree to figure out a gang war was in the offing.

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