Gods of Chicago: Omnibus Edition by AJ Sikes

take a step back. A golden glow flashed from the mobster’s eyes, disappearing as quickly as it came. In that moment, Brand felt a weight, like he’d felt from the mobster’s voice. It pressed against Brand’s chest and threatened to knock him off his feet with the slightest effort. Nitti and his boys turned to leave the way they’d come and Brand got his composure as the gangsters showed him their back. Whatever had happened with Nitti right then, it was gone.
    Nitti and his group marched straight through the crowd, heading for the front door. Brand watched the gangsters leave. He couldn’t be sure because Nitti’s thugs had surrounded their boss again, but it looked as if Nitti simply vanished, winking out of sight as the group drew abreast of Detective Wynes. The copper looked to the Mayor, who had struggled to his feet. The Mayor waved to let the gangsters leave unmolested. He dusted himself off before shuffling out through a door behind the bandstand.
    The party returned to normal after a bit and Brand circulated, chatting with guests about the special edition. Nobody in the room had seen a copy, which gnawed at him after awhile. His story had been hot off the press, but without the photo to back it up, he was just blowing hot air up the city’s caboose. After nearly an hour of people telling him they’d sure like to see the evidence, Brand’s dejection ate a hole in his gut and he left his half empty glass on a table. He was about to leave when Emma Farnsworth came at him from the direction of the powder rooms. At her approach, a faint scent of roses wafted between them. She looked cooler than when they spoke earlier, but still ready for war. “What did Nitti say to you?”
    “What’s it to you? Besides, a newsman never betrays his sources.”
    “Funny stuff. Look, Brand, Frank Nitti is putting the pinch on my father. If you know anything about it—” she let her eyes finish for her.
    “That’s the spirit. Why don’t we sit down?”
    “Fine,” she said and walked to a corner table.
    Keeping things private , Brand thought to himself. Good chance he’d get some dope he could use for a story, and the photos of her began to make some kind of sense in his mind. He still didn’t have all the pieces, but the frame was coming together.
    “So what’s this about, Brand? Why are you really here? What do you know about The Outfit and my father’s plant?”
    “How about one at a time? Why am I here? To get the dope on why the mob is interested in your father’s plant when everyone knows the old man’s betting low cards. And speaking of cards, what’s with the gypsy act? I didn’t know you went in for that sort of thing.”
    “It’s none of your business, but I’ll tell you that every man and woman in this room has sat down with Madame Tibor. Now what was that crack about my father? The plant’s doing fine. Sure, Dad’s not in the game like he used to be. But if anyone goes down first, it’ll be Lane-Hartley. Gas it out. It’s all wind, water, and radio-electricity from Mr. Tesla’s operation now.”
    “Okay, that’s a safe bet. But then why go after your old man? Why not try for the big fish, like Tesla? If it’s protection they’re running.”
    Emma seemed to size him up, as if gauging his worth and debating whether to end the conversation or not. Her face went slack and she sent her eyes off to the side before replying. “You think it’s protection?” she said, turning to look him in the eye again. “I don’t know about that, but I know they wanted something from Dad. Nitti’s been coming by the plant since Christmas, first with a basket of sausages, then a new coat. This morning somebody brought him a bottle of Capone’s favorite hooch. They wanted him to do something, but I don’t know what.”
    Brand connected the dots for her. “Sounds like a patsy play. It’s a cinch Capone ordered the hit this morning and Nitti’s been coming by to set your old man up as the fall guy in