Jimmy the Stick by Michael Mayo Read Free Book Online

Spence have business together?”
    Oh Boy shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s got an office in the city, but his main place is close, on the other side of the lake.”
    â€œThe sanatorium?”
    Oh Boy snorted, “Yeah, the nuthouse. Rich drunks from the city go there to dry out.” He hooked a thumb toward the window. “In the daytime you can see it from here.”
    â€œWho’s the other guy? The one with the wild hair and the rifle.”
    â€œThat’s Dietz, the groundskeeper.”
    I opened the top of my bag and sorted through clothes, knee brace, and other stuff that Oh Boy had taken from the hotel, including my knucks and knife.“Did Spence tell you he was going to fly to Texas?”
    â€œYeah, he was supposed to leave today. They’ve got the Pennyweight Petroleum Tri-Motor over at the airfield. I don’t know if Walter’s going to want me to drive him there tonight or tomorrow.” He looked even more worried than usual. “I guess I’ll have to stay up tonight, too.”
    â€œHow does a guy get something to eat around this joint?”
    Oh Boy smiled at the mention of food. “That’s easy. Come down to the kitchen after you clean up. The chow’s good.”
    After Oh Boy left, I pulled open the curtains, turned off the table lamp, and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The sheer craziness of the past twenty-four hours was still too confused to figure. Maybe that damn big cop hit me harder than I thought. And why did he close me down in the first place, and then why did he do such a piss poor job of it? It’s like he knew it wasn’t going to stick but he did it anyway. If Vinnie Coll was still alive, I’d think he was behind this scheme. I decided I’d call Dixie in the morning. And Lansky, if he was in town.
    Shapes outside slowly became visible. Faint light from a ground-floor window fanned out over brown grass directly below. Beyond the light was the lake. I could make out the dark shape of Dr. Cloninger’s sanatorium on the other side. Headlights were moving near it. I opened the window and heard the sound of an engine and transmission gears in the cold night air.
    I closed the window and curtains. Who the hell would snatch the Lindbergh kid? More important, where was Connie?
    I stood under the shower and let the water beat down on my head and neck for a long time. It revived me and sharpened my hunger.
    I got out my razor and turned on the radio to warm up while I shaved. I twisted the tuning knob until I heard a man’s voice.
    â€œ. . . since yesterday. We know that this was not the first experience with kidnapping the family has dealt with. A year ago, Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s sister Constance received a written threat that authorities took so seriously a false ransom payment was arranged while the colonel spirited the young woman to safety. No one was ever apprehended in that instance, and it is unknown whether the incident has any bearing on what happened yesterday.”
    The announcer had a crisp British accent but he also sounded tired. I wondered how long he’d been talking.
    â€œFor many of us, the reality of this crime is still hard to accept. You think that someone will step out from behind a curtain and explain that it did not really happen, but I’m afraid that’s not the case.
    â€œColonel Lindbergh came to America’s attention five years ago when he became the first man to fly solo across the Atlantic in the Spirit of St. Louis . He and his airplane returned on the USS Memphis to massive parades in Washington and New York, and then, of course, he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. ‘Lucky Lindy’ became one of the most famous men in the world. He has used that fame to promote the cause of commercial aviation.
    â€œIn fact, he was doing just that when he flew to Mexico and met Anne Morrow, daughter of Ambassador Dwight Morrow.