The Shadows of The Devil's Tragedy

One

Matthew sat at the dimly lit bar, sipping at his beer occasionally as he watched the door. His best friend should be here soon; This bar, after all, was one they often frequented.

"Hey, Trigger." Greeted a man he knew a little from somewhere. Matt raised his beer in acknowledgement.

"Hey."

"You heard about the murders?" The man sat next to him, chair scraping the floor as it was pulled out.

"Yeah, I have. It's unfortunate. I knew Jim. Done some business with him in the past. Nice kid." Matthew said. "Heard his Ma died awhile before he was killed. He'd been going mad with grief, hadn' he?"

"He had, too. Saw him down here the night he got the news. Drinkin' like a mad man." The man nodded. "You oughta keep an eye on your friend...the little lass. What's 'er name? Ally, or some'in' like that, wasn' it?"

"Amelia. And she ain't bad at keepin' herself safe." Matthew said icily, as he spotted said girl in the doorway of the bar. "Speaking of, here she is. If you'd mind, I'd like to talk to her."

"Sure thing. See ya, Trigger." The man got up.

"See ya." Matt nodded as the man began to walk away.

"I'm sick of all these horny old bastards staring at me like I'm some damn steak." Amelia - having quite a foul mouth for a lady in the 50's - grumbled to Matt, as she sat down on the barstool next to him. "Won't be able to look at anyone when I give 'em a good shank in the face."

Matt chuckled at his best friend. "According to every male I talk to, you're a pretty little lass."

Amelia rolled her eyes, and got the bartender's attention, waving him over.

"Beer, please." The bartender nodded at her words and popped the cap off the bottle before he gave it to her, Amelia handing over some cash to pay for it. She didn't miss the lingering look he gave her as she turned back to Matt, rolling her icy blue eyes. "What'd ya wanna speak ta me about?"

"Word's spreading 'round. Been murders. Wanna make sure you're safe. Heard there's some detectives comin' 'round here. Checkin' things out. Hopefully they'll catch the killer and I won't have to worry 'bout ya so much." Matt said, veiling truth in his words, being careful not to give a hint away to anyone who might be listening to their conversation.

"You know I ain't needin' anyone to protect me." Amelia took a sip of her beer, shaking her foot on the base of the stool out of habit, her piercing eyes scanning the establishment. "But I appreciate your concern. Did ya hear about Jim and his Ma?"

Matt nodded. "I did."

Amelia took another sip of her beer, using it to mask the twist on her pink lips. "Quite unfortunate, if you ask me."

"Yeah. No remorse for the man who killed the poor kid. His poor Pa's gonna lose himself in alcohol, I'll bet, if he doesn't die of grief soon." Matthew commented. Amelia nodded in agreement.

"Poor man." She replied, fiddling with the bottle in her hands, her gaze flicking to the door when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Haven't seen those two around here. Think they might be the detectives?" Matt nodded towards the two men who were walking into the door. One was wearing a tan trench coat and a similarly colored pork pie hat, the other a black trench coat. They stood out like a sore thumb. After all, what made the murders worse was that everyone knew everyone in their part of town. It'd be easy to pick out those who didn't belong.

"Definitely." Amelia confirmed, biting her lip as she stared at the one in the black trench coat, her eyes lighting up when he glanced at her for a millisecond. "I want that one."