A Charm of Powerful Trouble (A Harry Reese Mystery Book 4) by Robert Bruce Stewart Read Free Book Online Page B

one’s seen him. But if they were hiding him, I don’t suppose they’d let me in on it. I’ll tell you what though, I wouldn’t be surprised if Lou is around.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “Well, if he lost his night job, I wager he’ll be looking for crickets. And Lou says there’s no better place in New York to catch the right kind of crickets than Bowery Bay. On account of it being so quiet.”
    “So, if we lie in wait, we may see him tonight?” Emmie asked.
    “Could well be.”
    “Will you stay with us? We’ll need to speak with him.”
    “I have to get up mighty early in the morning.”
    Emmie tried coaxing, but it wasn’t until she pulled five dollars from her purse that Willie’s resolve melted. She then instructed us to find blinds from which we could spring on Lou Ling when he arrived.
    “Why don’t you ladies take position near the farm here with Willie,” I suggested. “I’ll take Thibaut and we’ll cover the slope below.”
    “Do crickets prefer slopes?” Emmie asked.
    “The right-thinking ones do.”
    “We should have a signal,” she said. “Can you hoot like an owl?”
    “Give me a quart of gin and I can hoot like a convention of elks.”
    She asked the same question of Thibaut in French, and he replied with a convincing demonstration. Then he and I went off. About halfway down the slope I left him in a little stand of sumacs and then went on to a windbreak that lined an old farm field. I made myself a comfortable seat of grass and sat down.

6
    Willie was right, there did seem to be an unusual number of crickets about. And as dusk was eclipsed by night, the chorus grew even louder. By then, the darkness was near impenetrable. But further along, I could see lights shining in the few houses that lined the bay, and beyond those, the illuminated entertainments of North Beach—Erbe’s casino among them.
    I waited a good long time, just to make sure Emmie didn’t come around looking for me, and also to give Thibaut a chance to fall asleep. I knew from our days at sea that he was an inattentive lookout. And with his belly full of lager and bratwurst, I felt sure he was already fast asleep. I crept down to the road that ran along the bay.
    Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a bull charging down the hillside. Thibaut stumbled out of a thicket and fell at my feet. He had psychic powers when it came to drink, and I should have realized there was little chance of leaving him behind. It wasn’t hard to imagine how his falling out with his partners had come about. A fellow with Thibaut’s predilections would make a poor partner in any business, but particularly one involving an inventory of liquor.
    I helped him up and we started walking. Beside us, a fleet of small yachts bobbed at anchor, and the Ferris wheel that dominated North Beach was already visible ahead. The family attractions were winding down and the cars back to Hunter’s Point left full. But at Erbe’s casino, near the tip of the point, business was brisk.
    Unlike those of France, most casinos at American resorts like North Beach are nothing more than humble dance pavilions. If any gambling were to take place it would be greeted by scandal. Erbe’s, however, hewed to the European model. At least in its entertainments. The edifice itself was a good deal more primitive.
    New York was rife with betting parlors and poolrooms, but no place was as open about it as Erbe’s. I suppose that was partly because it was so far from the favorite haunts of the morality workers of Manhattan. Erbe, no doubt with the connivance of the local precinct captain, simply took advantage of the neglect.
    We arrived in the barroom about ten. If the White Rats were meeting after the shows in Manhattan, they’d have difficulty arriving before eleven. So we naturally stopped at the bar. After quickly dispatching the first round, Thibaut went into his act. The cricket, the owl, and the tiger were all well received, but it was the ape that truly captivated.