“Just wantcha to know, it ain’t nothing personal-like, huh doll?” The short, rat-faced man said, the crumbled cigarette in his mouth twitching as he spoke. “It’s like this: ya boy’s been causing the boss a lotta trouble, muscling in on his turf, taking over speakeasies, hijacking his booze shipments…boss ain’t happy with that, so he says if ya boy don’t agree to get outta town by midnight tonight, well, his doll’s gonna go for a swim, capiche?”
Dorothy gave a quiet whimper in reply. It was about all she could do. A band of white cloth covered her mouth, muffling her. The young, vivacious blonde flapper was seated in a heavy wooden chair. Rope circled the back, and her torso, pinning her in place. Below, her stocking clad legs were set in a metal washtub which had been fitted with a quick setting concrete mix.
“Speakin’ of...” The rat faced man pulled out his watch and looked at it. “Just five minutes left till you’re sleepin’ with the fishes. Tony...hey Tony!” He turned and snapped at a mountain of a man who’s garish pinstrip suit might have served as a circus tent. Currently, the bruiser was slumped in a corner, snoring loudly. He came to with a snort to the shorter man’s shouting. “Shake a leg’ would’ja! It’s about time.”
Grumbling, Tony cracked his neck and walked over to join them. “Help the doll, seeing as she can’t go nowhere herself.” Rat-face said, nodding to the captive dame.
“Right Vinny.” Tony rumbled. He bent and scooped Dorothy up, chair, tub, cement and all, like she weighed nothing, and followed Vinny who had gone to the door and unlocked it. The sharp smell of salt and rotting fish assailed them as they stepped out onto the pier. At Vinny’s direction, Tony carried Dorothy to the far end of the dock and set her down, the back legs of the chair perched on the edge of the wood. It would only take a little shove to send it, and her, plunging into the dark waters of the harbor.
Dorothy sobbed as Vinny took his watch out and counted the minutes and then the final seconds, as they ticked away. “Ten...nine...eight...” He had just reached ‘2’ when a fast roadster suddenly sped up to the end of the pier. Both men reached into their jackets for their gats, but relaxed when the door opened and another man in a suit like there’s leapt out. He ran up the pier, waving his arms.
“Hold it boys! Don’t dunk the dame!” He yelled over. “Boss send word, they worked it out. Says to let doll go!”
With a sigh, Vinny put his watch away and pulled out a knife. Reaching over, he began to saw the heavy cables tying Dorothy to the chair. “Well doll, guess it’s your lucky night. Just a sec and you’ll be free to...” His eyes looked down to her feet, still in their cement shoes. He sighed.
“Tony...get a hammer.”