“Baby, don’t cry! John is in a better place,” Jesse told Amy softly.
“How do you know that, Jesse? Tell me…do you have reliable personal knowledge of where John Hannibal is right now? Or is it just an off the cuff remark you’ve heard at funerals you’ve attended? John had no funeral. I never even asked him if he had family other than his wife who died. No one could come to say goodbye. John was blown to bits and the worst of it is he did it for us. Oh, John, I’m so sorry,” Amy cried.
While she sat sobbing in a deep sorrow, Jesse sat considering what his beautiful wife had just said. “Amy, I am truly sorry…I meant it to comfort you.” He said, “Actually, I was just repeating what I have heard at funerals. I have attended many funerals but have never taken the time to investigate if it is true and where the information can be found. You and John have made me realize how shallow my life is.”
From somewhere there came a distinct metal click. “What was that?” Amy asked almost in a whisper. Suddenly the turret gun on the old tank began to swing around until it was pointing directly at them. Neither of them knew what to say…they were dumbfounded. Jesse didn’t know whether they should run or raise their hands! The old hatch popped open and John’s cotton head appeared out of the tank.
“John, it’s you! You are alive!” In tears Amy ran around the tank trying to find a way to get up on the tracks.
John climbed out of the tank and they hugged for a long time. “Amy, this old tank has always been my ace in the hole. I knew if I could get to this old Sherman. I could survive. It took you two long enough to get back here,” John said with a grin.
“John…were you just sitting in there listening to us go on and on?” Jesse inquired.
“Shure was! Mighty touchin’. Don’t get any sweeter than that. By the way, I have solved the problem with Hamilton International,” John said.
“You what?” Jesse questioned.
“Bob Anderson was associated with the major crime families in the south. He, or they, came up with the idea of Anderson getting control of the company by his marriage to Amy.” John continued, “Anderson was a good-looking man with a glib tongue. He prearranged to meet Amy and it’s all history after that. As her husband he could get control of Hamilton International through an almost legal means. Unfortunately for them Anderson’s sudden death put a damper on getting control legally. Finding Amy would have given them a chance to finish what they had started by blackmailing her father. That fellow Elmer Hayes threw a monkey wrench into the syndicate's plan when he decided to blackmail Drew Hamilton. They sent a couple of gangsters, Jack Majors and Lennie Cobb, to fetch Amy and dispense with her protector Harlan Williams. Lennie and Jack are dead, and Amy Anderson and Harlan Williams died in a fiery plane crash. The perpetrator of the whole mess was a legitimate branch of the Dixie Mafia called Southern Crest under the leadership of Albert Swift. I read in the papers not too long ago there was an investigation ongoing into criminal dealings that had been traced back to Southern Crest.”
“Wow! John Hannibal, you never cease to amaze me! You have solved all of Amy’s problems,” Jesse said.
“Not so fast. We still have a wee problem,” John exclaimed.
Jesse and Amy looked at each other. “Okay, what may that be?” Jesse asked.
“If Amy Anderson and/or Hamilton should reemerge from the dead, now that her problems have been solved, what will that say about the plane crash that killed you two? The bodies in the plane were not you. I might add Harlan Williams couldn’t be dead if Amy Anderson is not dead. Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive,” John said quoting Sir Walter Scott.
Amy stood and considered what John had just said. “It looks like I will have to stay dead. Jesse, I’m not liking this,” Amy said.
“Jeez, John, you sure know how to throw a wet blanket over our party! Let’s think about that tomorrow. You are giving me a headache,” Jesse declared.
Grinning from ear to ear John said, “I think I just might change my name…how about Hannibal Rash? What do you two think?”
“Well, that seems to be an ongoing theme in this family. Just hours ago, Amy changed hers. I think this might just prompt us to write a great novel. Intriguing! Just think…a novel about the great composer, John Hannibal written by Hannibal Rash. There will be years of stories about the great composer after this desert fiasco. That should keep us entertained for years. Why don’t we discuss it on our Honeymoon down in Mexico?” Jesse asked.
“Honeymoon? Well, now, I’ve never had the pleasure of a honeymoon. Considering you two’s past, you will need a protector just to keep you out of trouble,” John said laughingly.
“On another note, have you ever fished off the back of an eighty-foot yacht?” Jesse asked.
“What say we get going? I might get to missing this old desert,” John urged.A weight was lifted from Jesse’s soul and suddenly he was having the best day of his life.
C4 - Looking Out for The Little People
Through the small barred window Emil Hosea looked longingly at the large moon. On a distant beach he could hear the music and laughter of the Americano tourist. It was not likely Emil would ever see the beach again or feel the sand under his bare feet. His home now consisted of these four grey walls. They surrounded him as a cage would surround a wild animal. This remote Mexican prison , thirty inmates all small crime nature. His sentence had started only a month earlier. The shock of being in prison was almost more than he could bare. Emil was just the right person to be charged with this crime. He was considered a not too bright fisherman who had no family. Emil would never amount to much. In complete despair and void of any hope Emil had decided to end his life, but then came hope. He had something to trade the prison commander for his freedom. This day Emil Hosea sat in a small interrogation room. Sweat dripped from the end of his nose. Occasionally he would mop sweat from his brow. Was the dream of last night nothing but that? No, the vision was real.
“Emil?” the voice had called him in the night! Above his cot the small window outlined a man’s head. “Emil, are you there?” the shadow asked again.
It was an Americano’s voice and one Emil knew well. Emil quickly said, “Si, Senor, it is I, Emil.” Breaking into a sob, he stood on his bunk and reached out of the small window as if in a dream.
In the moonlight, a hand took Emil’s hand and spoke softly, “Do not cry my friend. I have heard of your plight and may have a solution that will set you free. Now I want you to listen to me carefully. I will explain what you must do to gain your freedom. Do as I say and give no information unless you have a promise from the prison La Commandanté you will be freed. With this information he can secure money from the authorities north of the river in El Paso. Now I will tell you how to handle this and you must not be swayed and give the information without a promise of freedom.”
This hot summer day Emil sat in a small interrogation room that smelled of human urine and sweat. At first the smell was overwhelming and Emil almost vomited. Flies and mosquitos buzzed, and the day droned on. La Commandanté had intentionally kept him waiting for hours. Emil laid his head on the table and dozed. Just before the evening siesta the commandanté appeared in the room. Standing in the doorway he quickly dismissed the guard. There was something about him Emil had never noticed before. La Commandanté, dressed in his grey uniform, was a very short man with a large belly. His tall shiny black boots made him look like an Easter egg sitting on black sticks.
“Now, Emil, I, La Commandanté El Cisco Merico Valdez, have it from a source that you have information. This information concerns a bank robbery across the Rio. If this is true and the sum of money I get is not small, I, La Commandanté El Cisco Merico Valdez will consider reducing your sentence. After all, Emil, your crime was not of a large nature. I am a compassionate man. I am listening. Please let me know of this bank robbery.”
Emil sighed and rubbed his sweating palms together and said, “Si, La Commandanté Valdez, I wish I could tell you of wha
t I know. For me to sit in this prison one day longer will cause me to do harm to myself. When I was free, I was a good man. Did I not bring you fresh fish each day for your large family? Was I not a good guide for your important friends that desired to fish the Gulf? Now I want to walk the sandy beach again and aboard my boat feel the ocean spray on my face. Surely as insignificant as I am, you could see fit to set me free.”
“Emil, I must hear what you know before I can give you my word to set you free,” the commandanté stated.
“Si, La Commandanté. Set me free and I will only go just beyond these walls on the beach. You will see me each day when I bring you fish again.”
La Commandanté considered the fresh fish and the way Emil had served him over the years. He stated, “Then, I, El Cisco Merico Valdez, will give you my word and now you must tell me what you know!”
Emil sighed deeply and rubbed his swollen, tired eyes and said, “La Commandanté, not long ago when I was a free man, I sat by a fire on this very beach and baked fish for the tourist and Mexicans. They were merry with drink. One hombre was heavy with wine and told of a bank robbery that took place across the river. There were four banditos taken from Mexico in a small plane to do the bank robbery. It was a small aircraft and it flew low to the ground. The drunken bandito said the flight was scary and fast. In Texas, the four Los mexicanos robbed the bank for someone who they did not know. They said they only got the money they were promised but the bank’s money never left the bank.
“Emil…I do not understand either they robbed the bank or not…which is it?” La Commandanté inquired.
“Si, La Commandanté, the money was put in some special lock box by El Presidenté del banco and kept for himself. The Americano La Policìa thought the banditos had taken all the money,” Emil stated.
Standing erect the commandanté studied the little man for a long time. In his mind he saw a large sum of money for this information. He would sell Emil to them as a bonus. “Emil, what you have told me is significant. I will contact the La Policia in El Paso. You will keep this to yourself. No one besides me must know this. Do you understand? Failure to keep your mouth shut will cause severe problems for you,” La Commandanté threatened.
“La Commandanté, I wish only to be free. I am guilty of no crime. You have the information. Let me go walk the banks and fish. I am a poor man and want only to be free,” Emil pleaded.
“Emil, I have not received any money and I cannot let you go until I do,” La Commandanté declared.
“La Commandanté, I am a poor peasant fisherman and have no place to go. I have lived here in this small village all my life. I want to walk through the marketplace and sleep on the sand of the shore under my small fishing boat once again. Remember, I will bring you fresh fish each day. I will not go anywhere,” Emil stated.
Looking at the poor peasant, La Commandanté knew Emil would not go anywhere. If he needed him, he would be easy to find. Ultimately, Emil would have to be turned over to the Americanos. He had missed the fresh fish each day. Alas, his family was large. “If you agree to tell no one of this, I will let you go. Bring my fresh fish each day and I will see to this matter,” he stated.
Outside it was beginning to get dark when Emil walked to the ocean. He would be forever scared of small places. He knew he would kill himself before he went back to the prison. His boat had been neglected and was half full of sand. For a long time, he cleaned the sand out of his boat. Just as dark was setting, he walked out to take a bath in the saltwater. His eyes were full of tears and he rejoiced at his new freedom.
“Emil?” a voice on the water startled him. He stood shaking in the cool dark water of the Gulf. Oars bumped the sides of a wooden hull.
“I do not see you, but I hear your voice. I am but a poor peasant…” Emil began to plead.
A skiff cut through the night and eased up beside Emil as he stood in the water. Jesse’s voice came across the water, “Don’t be alarmed it is I, your friend, the Americano. Tell me what your La Commandanté said and how you come to be here?”
“Oh, Senor, I am a free man, thanks to you.” Emil related the story to the men in the boat. After a long silence Jesse Rash shook his head as if he had come to an agreement and asked, “Emil, do you love the sea?”
Excitedly Emil cried, “Si, Senor! In prison I longed to feel the sand and water between my toes and feel the gulf breeze in my face.”
“Emil, I fear I have put your life in danger,” Jesse stated. “The police will come for you in the next few days. Tomorrow morning, I want you to hang a string of fresh fish on La Commandanté’s front door as you were instructed to do. Then get in your boat and head out to sea. My ship will be waiting for you just beyond the breaks. We will scuttle your boat. The commandanté will think you drowned. You can be part of my crew. Your life will be of the sea helping the captain sail my ship and learning the ways of the sea. Emil, would you be willing to do that?”
“Si, Senor, I will gladly do as you say!” Emil said gratefully.
C5 - Chicago East Side
Willy Baker stood by a picture window looking out across Sixth Street watching the bustling crowd that moved around the intersection.
“When I was a kid, I use to kick the top off ant hills and get this same result,” Willy stated.
Behind him a man said, “Where in the world are all these people going?”
“Where did they come from is a better question. How’s business this week?” Willy asked.
“Great! I had to hire another person for the laundry business. I’m open six days a week and all my clothes racks are full. You sure picked a good spot to open this shop. Both types of customers come in here and the honest folks don’t realize what’s happening in the back. This is the only, almost legitimate business, McDonald has in Chicago, all thanks to you, Willy. Too bad you don’t get a slice of the pie. You are making him rich!” the man chuckled.
“He’s paying me better than you think. When I first laid out the laundry deal, I explained I have a lot of money-making ideas rolling around in my head, but they wouldn’t be free. Even seeing these results, he still complains he pays me too much,” Willy said reflectively.
“Not only is this laundry making a killing, but the betting operation in back is doing even better. We’re right in the heart of the city and the building couldn’t have been better picked. McDonald wins both ways. Everything you touch has made him money. You really have a green thumb and he knows it; but a little friendly advice, watch McDonald. He is a bad man you can’t trust,” the man said.
Willy’s eyes tightened for a minute and said, “Yes, he is. I don’t trust anybody and least of all McDonald. Smitty will be by to pick up receipts from the back tomorrow. Here comes my cab, see you Monday.”
Willy made his way to the curb where Sam’s cab sat. “Take me to the mission; I have a surprise for our friends,” he said excitedly.
“You still sparking Bonnie?” asked Sam.
“Yes, indeed! Now that I’ve got business on a roll for McDonald, I’m so busy I don’t get to see my girl every day. Maybe my surprise will make our relationship grow a bit,” Willy said hopefully.
“Hey, thanks for the tip on the horses last week! I made a killing! You got anything else I might make some money on?” Sam asked.
“Don’t worry, Sam. When I see a sure thing, I will always keep you and Pat informed,” Willy replied.
“Pat said to tell you LaSalle, over in the heights, is making noise about a couple of his boys getting snuffed down in Texas. Seems they were cutting into a local’s shine business and got deep sixed somewhere around the Houston ship channel. He blames McDonald for their demise and is asking questions about the shine drivers McDonald has on his payroll,” Sam said.
“Why would he want to know about drivers? McDonald only has one grouchy old truck driver that I know of that he uses regularly. When he wants to move merchandise, he usually lets me handle it,” Willy said.
“Don’t know, but the talk in the bar
the other night was a guy named Seals got knifed down in New Orleans!” Sam told Willy.
“I know Seals, but my business never included him. Good information, Sam. You hear anything you let me know right away. I’m right in the middle of McDonald’s operations and need to be kept informed. You and Pat are my eyes and ears on the street and the only two I trust,” Willy commented.
“How did your trip south turn out last week?” Sam asked.
“Ok, didn’t get everything done I wanted to, but setup something that will be useful in the future. The less you know about my business the better and what you know keep to yourself,” Willy responded.
“Didn’t mean to pry, but let me know if you need anything,” Sam said.
“You’re not prying. I just want to keep you and Pat out of harm’s way. I will need you two when my plans come together. Keep your meter running. I will be right back,” Willy said as he got out of the cab and made his way up to the mission.
Alice and Bonnie were sitting in the big room. Seeing him approach, Bonnie met him at the door and adjusted his tie. Her face was radiant, and her smile lifted his spirit. She said happily, “Nice suit! Not only do you get later every day…that is if you even show at all, but now you’re wearing a different suit every time I see you. If you’ve got yourself a new girlfriend…I’m going to be mighty upset!”
“Bonnie, of all the things you may have to worry about, you will never have to worry about me and another woman. I’m not interested in anyone else. Alice, where is Billy? I have a surprise for you three, and the cab is waiting,” Willy said.
Doing Time In Texas, Book 2 Page 2
