Details. It’s all in the details. If there is one thing I learned, especially since joining Magee’s crew, is that you should always pay attention to the small details. Overlook some detail and the next thing you wind up in the morgue with some quack digging lead outta your skull. I seen it so many times.
My grandparents came from the old country during the famine, around 1851 I was told. They tried to make a living on the land around Boston. I came along in 1886, but was raised until I was six years old by my uncle and aunt on the maternal side, never did find out what happened to my parents. When they both passed on within a short space of time of each other, I was brought to the Brotherhood of Charity Catholic Orphanage of Nazareth where I was given a truly comprehensive education into all the workings of the Antichrist.
A special recruitment drive by the BPD and I was a trainee cop. When I got the badge, I thought I would get a license to get my own back on some of those fucks that had pushed me around at the orphanage. Turns out, I was just there as a hired gun to protect the biggest gangsters in the town hall and do all their dirty work for them. Y’know what? I loved my time as a cop. You might not believe this, but that badge gave me all the authority I needed. By day I was cracking union skulls, by night I was moonlighting to protect the property of the wealthy. And it kept me outta the army.
That’s when I missed some important details. We had a routine job. Wait for the collection, shoot the guys, and bring the goods to the warehouse. Nothing unusual. What happened? It was a set-up and a lot of people got shot. Including some people who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyhow, this soon became big news all across the city and yours truly was in the moonlighting limelight.
So I got my badge taken off me, but because some pretty important people owed me favours, I was given the option to become a P.I. “Just keep your head down, don’t make any waves, it’s a good business! You’ll earn ten times what you was taking home from the beat!” Well I got the license, and it didn’t take long for me to pick up my first clients. Turns out my clients weren’t little old ladies trying to track down their pussy cat Tibbles. So I wasn’t just investigating stuff, I was fixing it. And what I fixed, stayed fixed. I got access to public records, police records, morgue records… Wasn’t long before people started calling me “the Accountant”. All the books I cooked finished with the line “and they all lived happily ever after…” But my clientele wasn’t to the liking of the City Attorney and I was drawing the wrong kind of attention. Didn’t take long for the license to get suspended. Now I’m working for Brendan. Like I say, it’s all in the details.
5’10’’ – Slim build – Fast and agile – Good looking – Well-spoken and dressed – Smart but not Educated – Lone Operator who now treat his work collages as fellow soldiers.
BACKGROUND:
Came over from Italy as a small boy with my parents to Little Italy, Lower Manhattan, New York City.
Dad worked on Skyscrapers and I visited whenever I could. Also we sometimes climbed in the Appalachian Mountains, just like my farther use to go climbing with his farther in the Parco Nazionale Del Pollino, Italy.
Mother was a school teacher that couldn’t find work, so I was her star student and I could read, write and even speak some French, but not much more of an education.
Joined an Italian street gang, to try and help out at home, and had a talent for climbing and working with my hands.
Got sent to prison, several times, and that’s where I got a job in the library and discovered a passion for characters like A. J. Raffles, and authors such as Edgar Wallace. It’s all about appearance that’s what gets you in to reconnoitre a place before you do your job.
I was going to be sent down for sure, so I enlisted, American Expeditionary Forces (AEF), and spent some time out in France during WWI. Had time to use my French and, because of my talents, joined the reconnaissance team and did a lot of my work behind enemy lines. I preferred the use of a .38, Trench Gun and Grenades, but that was only if I had to.
When I got back to the U.S I decided to lay low for a while with friends in Boston. Reconnaissance and Access is my main role in the team. Entering from the top down being my preferred strategy and the use of a “Rope Belt” and “Carabiners” are essential for entry and a fast exit off the roof or ledge. The rest is quiet work, as we used in the German trenches. Well dressed and spoken, with a slash of money, also opens doors and mouths.
Ed Berkeley
Ed Berkeley
NAME: Ed Berkeley
A.K.A: ?
D.O.B ?
BORN: West Coast U.S.A
SKILLS:Driving – Boat Pilot – Mechanics – Armaments – Knife
APPEARANCE:
BACKGROUND:
Ed is not from the same mob world as the rest of you. He seems to come and go (perhaps when he needs money?) He can talk a bit like the rest of you but he sounds like he is east coast college educated and Billy Mcknifey has noticed a slight southern twinge to his accent.
You don’t know that much about him but has spoken of having served in “the corps” and making Captain but that “everybody else was already dead”. You’ve seen him carry a Colt .45 auto and threaten people with a hatchet, both of which “served him well in Beaulieu Wood”. He is a dangerous man, it’s not so much that he has a temper but that he can suddenly turn violent without any build up.
You know a few things he is into, he drives a 2 seater roadster very fast and that he has a boat somewhere up the coast and talked of game fishing in the Caribbean. He likes to tinker with engines and knows a lot about guns.
He is blond and freckly, a bit shorter than average but wiry and alert. He has some nice clothes but they have seen better days and generally wears outdoor/yachting gear. For the meeting with King Solomon he dressed up only enough to show respect. Word is he has done some hits and you have it on good authority his full name is Winston Edmund Lafayette-Berkeley.
