A Pure Double Cross by John Knoerle Read Free Book Online Page B

remember two things for certain. Holding up my severed upper ear to great acclaim, and Jimmy leading the assembled in a stirring rendition of his favorite song.
    â€œWhen I grow up I wanna be a G-man, and go
bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
A rough and tough and rugged G-man, and go
bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
”
    I had done it. Despite the snafus I had done it. No one was dead, I had won the tribute of the Fulton Road Mob, kept faith with the FBI and hauled off several canvas bags filled with negotiable currency.
    Things were going far too well.

Chapter Ten
    I reported to FBI headquarters the following day, feeling a little the worse for wear, looking it too. A mob doctor had showed up at some point during our bacchanal and dressed and bandaged my ear. I asked him if he could reattach the missing piece. I must have.
    And he said no such luck. He must have. In any event the top half of my right ear was currently residing in my top dresser drawer in Mrs. Brennan’s rooming house, wrapped in gauze. A precious keepsake of my first armored car job.
    A moon-faced guy stood behind the counter, rummaging through the receptionist’s drawers. So to speak. He filched two pencils and looked up.
    â€œWho are you supposed to be? Leonardo da Vinci?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œLeonardo da Vinci, you know.”
    I said that I didn’t.
    The moon-faced guy rolled his eyes. “The guy who cut off his ear for the love of the Mona Lisa!”
    There had to be a witty rejoinder to this idiotic remark but I was too busy keeping my head perfectly still to think of it. The receptionist rescued me a moment later. She escorted me through the maze of hallways to Agent Schram’s office. My red badge of courage didn’t win me any snappy salutes. The agents I passed all looked the other way.
    Assistant Special Agent in Charge Richard Schram was waiting at his open door. Head Special Agent Chester Halladay was seated behind Agent Schram’s desk. Uh oh.
    â€œHow bad is he?” I said, referring to the fallen agent disguised as an armored car guard.
    â€œThree broken ribs,” said Halladay.
    Agent Schram closed the door behind me and stood to my right, hands clasped behind his back. I stood there, stone still, a rusty knife lodged in my frontal lobes, my severed ear throbbing with every pulse beat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    No reply. Well screw ‘em.
    â€œIf the armored car guard had done as I suggested, instead of playing his part with a wink and a smirk, shots would not have been fired!”
    Schram chewed his lips raw waiting for his boss to formulate a response. Halladay consulted an incident report, found what he was looking for. “Why didn’t you return fire when the mobster fired upon our agent at point blank range?”
    â€œHe was wearing a flak jacket, I knew he’d survive. Why did your agents pursue us and rake us with machine gun fire?”
    Agent Halladay looked to Agent Schram.
    â€œYou wanted a convincing performance, remember?”
    I forced a smile. “Well, what’s a few broken ribs and a severed ear in the big scheme of things? The good news is that the Fulton Road Mob is now sold on the program and ready for more.”
    Special Agent Halladay pulled a monogrammed hankie from his pocket and dabbed at his upper lip. Agent Schram kept still as a coiled snake. “And you know this from Mr. Big himself?” said Halladay.
    â€œIndirectly,” I said. Halladay winced. Wrong answer. “I’ll get to him before the next go round.”
    Agent Halladay looked to Agent Schram. Agent Schram uncoiled.
    â€œThere won’t be another go round. The Executive Assistant Director of Criminal Investigations in Washington has called a halt to this operation. Too dangerous.”
    I struggled to keep my voice in a lower register. “Agent Halladay, Agent Schram, we’ve dangled the bait but wehaven’t planted the hook. There is no, I