Patricia raised her head to see the door open in the interview room of the LA Police Precinct. She had been there for three hours, and left alone for most of that. Then Detective Jack Travern, a middle aged man with prematurely greying hair, walked in.

"You realise we're not holding you here, Ms Willis." he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"I know. So say what you gotta say, and then I'm gone."

"We naturally had our eye on you after your brother decided to vanish. I don't expect you to give him up...not after all he did to get you out of that fix earlier in the year...but maybe if we help each other, we can stop anything bad happening."

Jack was unusually nice. The last time they had spoken, he had made up his mind that she was guilty of murder. She almost felt smug how wrong he had proven to be. Yet she held no malice against him - he was just doing his job.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well, I have a photograph taken shortly after your brother's disappearance, showing him leaving with a nurse."

Jack opened a file and pushed an enlarged black & white picture over to Patricia.

She sat up, looking to see Malcolm being wheeled out through a door by Nina.

"Do you recognise her? We have reason to believe she has gone with him. She hasn't reported for work since."

"No. I don't." Patricia replied adamantly.

"Apparently, Mr Willis had become friendly with the nurse, who was six weeks into her internship. Her absconding with him is very mysterious indeed. The Matron said all her references checked out, and there's no reason to believe she is involved with Malcolm than for any other reason than casual attraction."

Patricia pushed the picture away, and relaxed back in the chair. In the dull lamp light she looked appealingly attractive to the Detective, who was drawn to her for more than physical reasons. Patricia fascinated him.

"You know your brother is most likely in a lot of trouble. A man like him, with his money, can easily protect himself. Any information you have is better coming to us than anywhere else." Jack added.

Patricia nodded, "When I know anything. I'll drop by or call you."

Jack smiled, and then got up. He walked to the door, then paused before turning back. He held out a card.

"Here. This is my direct line. I can be contacted any time of the day. Don't hesitate. I want to help."

Patricia could have laughed for how much she believed him. She smiled and got up; taking the card, then followed him out.

As they returned to the main area of the precinct, Patricia saw Jeanie, Malcolm's fiancée walk past, and suddenly called out.

"Jeanie!"

Jeanie stopped, accompanied by a female Detective, and she looked to Patricia in recognition. They met up in the middle of the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Patricia asked.

Jeanie still looked bedraggled, but at least she was still breathing, something that had concerned Patricia after they spoke last.

"What do you think? The Cops have fuckin' squat to go on, and are trying to make me squeal. I might not know how I feel about Malcolm right now, but thankfully, I know even less than they do."

Patricia stared at the female Detective until she walked away with Jack Travern, then raised a hand to touch Jeanie's arm.

"So, you alright? I was worried about you. You need your friends around you at a time like this. Why don't you come and spend a few nights at the house?"

Jeanie looked around at the vagrants and youths clogging up the precinct with their aggravated assault charges and drunken disorderly. They represented a part of America she had always despised. Yet in her present frame of mind, they looked free in all the ways that she was not.

"I think I'd like that." she replied, and Patricia smiled.

4:00pm

An abandoned factory owned by one of Donatello's business associates stood within a huge industrial complex located in East L.A. The black Limo and Marcus' Porsche were parked outside.

Within the massive layout of the factory, Marcus walked with Vincent down a cold, undecorated corridor with hard stone flooring and bugs running all over the place.

"This is a fuckin' shit hole." he remarked, "Where did your Boss think he was going?"

"He's got some business to sort out. He's asked me to deal with things from here on in." Vincent replied.

Soon they entered another corridor, and Marcus saw Francis guarding a door. It was obvious who lay inside.

"Your goon ever seen one of my wife's movies?" Marcus asked.

"I wouldn't know." Vincent lied, and eventually they reached Francis.

Marcus eyed him up and down.

"You work out?" he asked.

Francis stared at him with a frown.

"Yeah. What's it gotta do with you?"

"Then work out just what I'm going to do to you if I hear you've touched her."

Vincent smirked. He was beginning to like this guy.

"Step aside, this is Mr Donnelly." he announced.

Francis suddenly looked worried, and moved away from the door.

Inside, light was cast on the mattress as the door opened, but Justine wasn't to be
seen. Marcus stepped in looking around, then saw a figure cowering in the corner, consumed by shadow.

"Babe?" he said quietly, then walked forward.

As he reached her, she raised her bruised and bloodied face, and then he dropped to his knees, suddenly taking her nubile naked form in his arms.

"Oh, come here honey...." he exclaimed, allowing her head to nuzzle his chest, and her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.

"Are you alright?" he gasped, feeling close to tears.

He then began to hear her weeping, and her muffled response said: "I am now. Don't ever leave me, Marcus. Promise!"

A tear rolled down Marcus' cheek as he lay his chin down on the top of her head,

"Don't worry babe. I'm back now. I'll never leave you again."

Back in the corridor, Francis was peering in until Vincent took him to one side.

"Hey...lets leave them alone for a bit. If he catches you spying, he could go crazy again."

"Again?" Francis asked.

"Yeah. Helga's dead."

"Jesus. So Donatello really did hand her over to him. Fuck, this is bad."

Vincent walked away with Francis, and glanced back, "Not as bad as it's gonna get. Donatello's gone to see the Boss. Something must be up."

"He's gone to see Salvator? Why the fuck?"

"I know. It doesn't make any sense. He received a phone call in the car over here.
Something spooked him pretty bad. I wouldn't be surprised if he don't call the whole thing off." Vincent replied.

"He wouldn't. Not after all that's gone down."

"My thoughts exactly. But he's not been focused for a while. He's so fuckin' eager to prove himself to the Don, that's he's not thinking straight. This whole thing with Donnelly's wife proves that."

Francis sighed, unable to disagree.

Jack Travern entered an office at the Police Precinct with the female Detective, a woman in her forties with bad skin, something regarding an accident as a child.

"So, any news? What did Ms Willis have to say?" she asked.

"Like I told you before. She and her brother are close. She's not gonna let anything slip that we don't already know."

They walked around a desk and took a seat either side. The female Detective switched on a television, then inserted a tape.

"I've been looking over the CCTV footage we think may be linked from six weeks back."

On the screen, a fuzzy, black & white picture showed a white BMW arrive outside the Hospital's Emergency Room. Paramedics rushed over as a door to the car swung open.

"It was night, so we can't be sure of the driver. The BMW wasn't registered to anybody...but considering Mr Willis' business interests with Marcus Donnelly; I'd say this is probably the last time he was seen alive."

Jack leaned forward, and looked at the car. He could see a bald headed man in the driver's seat.

"So saying that's Donnelly?" he asked.

The Detective smiled, "It would explain why he hasn't been seen since. Too much of a coincidence not to be."

Jack relaxed back, and placed the file down he had shown to Patricia, "Maybe the nurse was taken against her will. Have we got anymore information on the Italians found dead in the alley?"

"Well, they were Mafia. That is a certainty. Other than that...nothing, except well, one of them was big time."

"Who?" Jack asked.

"A Guy called Tommy Leone. Known to most as just Mr Leone. One of the Lieutenants of the Mafia's LA division, and rumour has it he had been gunning for Marcus' territory for some time."

Jack nodded, then opened the file again, looking at the picture of Malcolm fleeing with Nina.

"Well, if anything, that means Mr Willis here has quite a story to tell."

The female Detective agreed, then turned to the Television and switched it off.