Who Done Houdini by Raymond John Read Free Book Online

desk. The guards, all members of the Detroit Police, kept it tuned to KOP in case emergencies were referred during the time they were working at the hospital. It undoubtedly had announced Houdini’s arrival on the fateful night. Most likely, the officer was just a few feet away.
    â€œThis won’t do,” I mumbled.
    â€œShall we return to the room?” Mr. Holmes asked.
    â€œNo. I have a better idea.”
    He watched as I took out my pick from my pocket. I chose the door marked Public Relations and unlocked it.
    The room had a large square desk, several filing cabinets, and walls full of photographs. The phone was all that interested me, and I dialed the hospital number.
    To my relief, the guard answered. “Grace Hospital Security Desk.”
    â€œHello. This is Doctor Wheeler. I’m on third floor and I thought I heard a strange noise in the hallway. Would you mind coming up to investigate?”
    â€œNot at all. I’ll be right up.”
    Mr. Holmes stood leaning against the door. I joined him.
    The radio turned off. I waited until I was sure he had time to get on the elevator and cautiously opened the door.
    The lobby was empty, and the records office stood ten feet away.
    Mr. Holmes patted me on my back. “Well done, Wiggins. I see you haven’t lost any of your ingenuity over the years.”
    â€œThanks, but we won’t have much time. I have no idea how to find the chart we want.”
    â€œHopefully it will be located in alphabetical order.”
    As feared, the door to the records office was the least of our problems.
    The shades to the office were drawn and the room as black as a priest-hole at midnight. I fumbled for the light switch. Turning it on, I let out a groan. I had forgotten the battery of files standing six feet high around the entire office.
    Finding the right file drawer for the “Hs” by trial and error took longer than I hoped. The “HO” section ended with “Hopkins.”
    â€œAny suggestions?” I asked.
    â€œI see there are many records sitting on top of the cabinet. Perhaps the one we want hasn’t been put away yet.”
    I doubted it would be among them and, unfortunately, was proven correct. We had wasted more than ten minutes, and I wondered how long it would take for the guard to return.
    â€œMaybe the hospital doesn’t keep his file with the others,” I said.
    Mr. Holmes had moved to another cabinet. “These are files for the various physicians. You don’t suppose . . .”
    He stopped short at the sound of someone moving in the lobby. My worst fears were confirmed with the sound of the radio. Not only did we not have Houdini’s medical file but we were trapped in the office until the guard made another inspection round.
    After remaining frozen in place for what seemed an eternity, I tiptoed to stand next to Mr. Holmes.
    The first drawer creaked when we pushed it back in.
    With a shrug we opened the drawer beneath it. A large manila marker with the name Leonard Kennedy stood at the front.
    I squatted and began to finger through the files. One was turned backwards. Turning it around showed the word Confidential in block letters on the front. Instead of a name it had 10/30/26 written at the top.
    There was no disguising whose file it was.
    We both whirled at the sound of the door opening in back of us.

 
    Chapter 6
    A blue-shirted officer stood near the door, a revolver in his hand. “I thought I heard noises in here. Put your hands up.”
    We did.
    â€œLet’s go to the desk so I can call the station.”
    I took a step forward, then stopped in my tracks. At first I had been too frightened to recognize the voice. Then I did. “It wouldn’t be Officer Michael O’Reilly, now, would it?”
    The officer looked startled. “How do you know that?”
    â€œI’m the one who cleared you when your former partner was smuggling heroin in from Canada and tried to