[b][center]Prologue 
Criminal Darwinism [/center][/b]



[b]The Cheetah Lounge 
Opal City, PA
11:14 PM[/b]



Anthony Di Pasqua looked at the stubby cigar smoldering in the glass ashtray on his desk. It was a thin Panamanian Cigar with weak tobacco and loose wrapping. They were made to look like Cubans on the surface, but closer inspection revealed them to be poor imitators. That could sum up the mob in Opal City these days. When Anthony came into the Life, always with a capital L, forty years ago the mafia either owned or had a healthy stake in every criminal enterprise going on in the city and surrounding area. Years of FBI investigations and arrests put plenty of wiseguys behind bars. 

Then there were the killings. Dozens of small conflicts with Eastern European gangs over the years culled plenty from both sides, but those Slavic heathens always had more. Kill one Croat, two more popped up to take his place. Worse than that was their own short-sighted stupidity that led to whacks for all kinds of piddly shit. Anthony knew a guy who had another guy whacked just because he spilled a drink on his shoes. The Slavs were meaner, hungrier, and they just plain wanted it more. Generations of Italians running the show had made the mob soft and complacent. They were no longer at the top of the food chain, something they learned too late to change. Years of attrition meant that the mafia had just twenty made men working in the city. Anthony was head of the Family now, for whatever that was worth. Saying you were the mob boss of Opal City was like saying you was the world's tallest midget.

And now this shit on top of all of that.

Anthony looked up at the sound of the door opening. His bodyguard Pete nodded at him through a small crack in the door. On the other side of the door, Anthony could hear the rhythmic dance music from the strip club. The Lounge was one of the wiseguy's few remaining assets in the city, a good front for money laundering as well as pushing drugs and women.

"Ready?" he asked as he stood, making sure the cheap cigar was out for good.

"They're coming in now, sir."

Three of Anthony's guys came into the room, one of them with a pistol in his hand and pushing two unwilling captives towards the desk in the middle of the room. One of them was a woman. She had straight brown hair cut short and a navy blue dress and matching flats. To her side was the other captive, several feet shorter and infinitely hairier than his companion. To those who didn't know any better, he appeared to be a chimp dressed in a t-shirt and plaid coat. Any illusions that he was an ordinary primate were dispelled the second his opened his mouth.

"Anthony Di Pasqua," the chimp said in a clear, non-regional American accent. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Anthony shook his head. He'd met this little guy many times over the years, but he still couldn't get over it. He was a talking chimp! Not only did he talk, but he was smarter than probably everyone in this room, at least smarter than Anthony's guys.

"Can I call you Detective Chimp? Or does that insult you?"

"You've got a gun on me, so I imagine it doesn't matter if it insults me or not." 

Anthony sat down behind his desk and motioned for the chimp and his companion to do the same. He looked towards the girl and winked. She had a nice figure. With a little silicone, she could be out there on the pole earning the real books.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Effie," she said curtly.

"Effie? You ever get tired of the chimp there and want to hang out with a real man, let me know."

"Don't like Italians," she said. "Too much hair."

Anthony's men tightened at the crack, but he just laughed good-naturedly. He waved them off and instead turned back to the chimp.

"I brought you here because I need some help recovering something that was stolen from me."

Di Pasqua reached into his sports coat and pulled out a folded up photo of a bald, fat man with a beard on his face.

"This son of a bitch here did the books for the Family. Three days ago he disappears, ups and vanishes with my money and other important shit. I want him found and I want him dead. I don't have the manpower to comb the city like I used to, so I'm getting contracted help from the outside."

"No," said the chimp. "Hell no. I am not helping you murder someone."

"Noble sentiment," said Anthony. "Unfortunately, it doesn't matter. You're helping me..."

Di Pasqua snapped his fingers and his gunman moved quickly, putting the barrel of the pistol against Effie's back. She let out a small yelp and the chimp barred his sharp teeth at the gunman. He tried to go for the gun, but the three other men in the room held him back. He was small, but surprisingly strong.

"Like I said, Chimp Boy, you're helping me or you're both dead. Your lives for the life of a double-crossing scum. What's your choice?"

The chimp turned forward, staring at Anthony with rage in his eyes and his pointy white teeth glaring against the office's artificial lighting.

"Okay, you bastard! Okay!"


[center][b]The Concrete Jungle 
A Detective Chimp Mystery[/b][/center]