Big Ben Barker ran the bootleg arm of Mickey Finn’s operation on the south side. He ran it like clockwork and with precision. Mickey called him Ben. Ben Barker’s boys called him Boss. And the ladies all called him Mr. Big because he was, well, he was rumored to be well endowed, if you know what I mean.

Yeah, it was a fact that the ladies liked Mr. Big and he liked them. Especially Laura Lane. Man, she was something else. A dancer at Club Go Go, she could shake it like no one he’d ever seen. She wore a black cloche hat decorated with gold sequins and silver silk flapper dresses that shimmered under the spotlights, showing off every curve of her body. Wow! The first time he’d seen her, he wanted her like no body’s business. And the first time she’d slid out of that dress in his bedroom…well, when they said that the sky was the limit, they didn’t even come close. There was no limit as far as Laura was concerned. She’d do anything he asked her to do and leave him begging for more. His desire for her knew no bounds.

No bounds, that was until Doris Dalrymple came along. Jeez. She was really the cat’s meow. Better built than Laura, Doris knew her way to a man’s heart, that was for sure, and it wasn’t through his stomach. Whew! If Laura wore him out, Doris did it in spades.

But Big Ben wasn’t getting any younger. After a few weeks of trying to manage it with both ladies, he decided one of them had to go. He flipped a coin and was only sad for a moment. Sorry, Laura. It’d been nice to know ya.

He knew Laura wouldn’t go quietly. Plus, she knew too much about his organization and his business. Enough, anyway, to get nasty if she wanted to, which he figured she would after he gave the news that he was dumping her. So he came up with a foolproof plan.

He booked the presidential suite on the top floor of the Ritz for that Saturday night. He had his boys fill the gold-plated bathtub with gin, knowing that gin-loving Laura would appreciate the gesture. Then, after he’d gotten her good and drunk, he’d drown her in the tub and claim it was an accident. Easy.

That night, he took her to dinner and dancing at the 21 Club. Around midnight, they left and went to Ben’s favorite speakeasy for drinks. After they’d had a few, he leaned in close enough to get a good whiff of her Chanel—not to mention a eyeful of her cleavage—and said, “Hey there, gorgeous, how about you and I blow this place and head for the Ritz. I’ve got a room for us.”

“Oh, honey,” Laura said, slurring ever so slightly, “you’ve got a treat for little old me?” She rubbed her hand against his crotch. “Well, I’ve got one for you, too.” She giggled as she stood up and sauntered off, swinging her hips, driving him and his own personal Mr. Big crazy.

He hurried to catch up and took her by the arm, drooling in anticipation. “I’ll have one of the boys drive us,” he panted.

Half an hour later, they were in the huge bathroom.

Laura purred like a kitten, “Oh, honey, look at all the gin for little old me.” She dipped a finger in and licked it.

“All for you, sweetheart.” Ben watched her slide her finger around in her mouth and could barely contain himself. Maybe just once more for old time’s sake, was what he was thinking as Laura sashayed up to him.

“Aw, honey, give me a little kiss,” she said wrapping her arms around his neck. “Umm. You feel good.”

Ben couldn’t help himself. In a moment captured by his uncontrollable lust, he grabbed her in a tight embrace and ran his hand up and down her firm behind.

Laura ignored his hand as she felt him grow hard against her thigh. That’s all she needed. She slowly turned him until the backs of his knees were propped against the rim of the tub. Then she nibbled on his ear lobe whispering, “Oh, my, baby. You feel so good.” She rubbed against him sensuously. “Who do you love, honey?” She rubbed some more and took hold of his belt buckle. “Hmm? Do you love little old me?”

She felt Ben’s hot breath in her ear. He murmured, “Oh, baby you know how much…” He never finished his thought.

Laura put her hands on his chest and pushed. Backwards he tumbled, splashing into the gin. “What the..” he was starting to say when Laura reached over to the vanity, turned on the electric radio, and dropped it into the tub. Still plugged in. He shook and jiggled and jumped, splashing gin over the sides of the tub and onto the floor.

Laura laughed at Ben’s shocked expression. “Do away with me, baby? Not on your life. Oh, wait. I guess I was wrong. On your life, sucker!”

It took less than a minute, and then he was dead.

Half an hour, later she emerged from the elevator of the ritzy hotel looking every bit the beautiful woman she was. She stopped by the front desk and said, “I think there’s a problem up in the presidential suite. Something’s clogging the drain on the tub.”

Then she sauntered across the lobby and out the front door, never to be seen or heard from again. In her purse was $20,000 taken from Ben’s wallet. Or Little Ben as she now thought of him, because in truth that’s what he really was. Tiny, even.

She smiled as she waved for a cab. One pulled up right away. “Airport, ma’am?” the cabbie asked.

“Yes, thank you. And please make it a fast. I’m in a hurry.”

He saluted and grinned. “You bet, beautiful.”

She sat down in back and breathed a sigh of relief as the cab peeled away from the curb. Life was good. She was a beautiful woman and she had money, more than enough for airfare to the Bahamas. More than enough to start a new life. No one would ever find her. She stared out the window and watched the lights of the city stream past. She’d never see those lights again and she smiled. That was just fine with her.