Family Secrets-Chapter Four

As Bo drove across the plains of Kansas, he pulled off the main road and went to a small town with a single four-way stop in the center of town.  Once there, he headed for the home of retired Federal Agent Howard Long.  Bo got out of his car, straightened his tie and approached an elderly couple sitting on the front porch.

“Are you Mr. Howard Long?  My name is Beauregard Swanson.  I believe we spoke on the phone yesterday.”

Howard patted his wife’s hand with a smile.  “Betty Jo, could you give us a moment please.”

Bo watched the woman enter the house before he removed his notebook from his jacket.  “So, Mr. Long, my sources tell me that you have reason to believe the notorious bank robber John Dillinger did not die in July of 1934,”

The smile left Howard’s face. “I know for a fact that he didn’t.  Melvin Purvis had suspicions that they had killed the wrong man that night in Chicago.  So, he took his concerns to J. Edger Hoover.  Hoover feared, if that were true, it would bring a black eye to the newly formed F.B.I.  So, Purvis was told to keep quiet.  After a heated discussion, Melvin was given one year to prove his theory.   Purvis assigned a Federal Agent to follow each one of Dillinger’s former gang members in hopes that he might contact one of them.  I was assigned to follow one of those former associates.  After eight long months of surveillance, I saw Dillinger with my own eyes visiting his old friend.”

“So, if you saw him, why didn’t you just arrest Dillinger on the spot?”

“I was given strict orders not to arrest Dillinger.  I was just to follow his gang member and report back to Hoover if I saw him.  But Hoover was never going to let the news that Dillinger was still alive out.  No matter how much proof he had. That would have been a public relations nightmare.”

“Do you know the nature of Mr. Dillinger’s visit to his former gang member?”

“According to an informant I had, Dillinger was getting into organized crime and was offering every gang member a job in his new crime family.”

“What did Mr. Dillinger do after he visited his former gang member?”

“We followed his tracks out to California.  Then, he just disappeared.  Of course, Hoover closed the case, and I was given another assignment.  But my gut says Dillinger is still in California running a crime family.”

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At times, Bill was very bored just driving, but he still enjoyed seeing different parts of the country.  His favorite parts, by far, was driving through the majestic Rocky Mountains of Colorado and seeing the flashing neon lights of the Strip in Las Vegas.

 

Exhausted, Bill finally arrived at his Uncle Harry’s furniture factory in California.

 Harry led Bill to his plush office and closed the door.  He took a long drag off of a non-filtered cigarette and sat down behind his oak desk.  “Tom told me you were coming. I bet you’ve a lot of questions for me.”

“How in the world did you become a member of Dillinger’s gang”? Bill asked, sitting on the edge of his chair.

“When we were just kids, John and I started a gang.  We called ourselves “The Dirty Dozen”.  We used to roam the neighborhood causing mischief.   Nothing serious though…I mean the worst thing we did was steal some coal from railroad freight cars.  Then, in 1924 John was arrested for robbery.  When he was in prison, he listened and learned from the other inmates on how to rob a bank.  In ’33, after his dad got a petition to get him out, he came back to Indiana.  He tried to stay straight.  But with no job, he decided to put what he learned in prison to use.  He showed up at my house late one night and promised to make me rich.  It was the Depression…my family and I was starving while I was trying to make a living making furniture, so I changed my name and became John’s lookout.”

“I’m not sure how to ask this Uncle Harry…but… did you ever shoot anybody?”

“I did what I had to do to survive,” Harry said with no emotion.

“You have to tell me, what was it like riding with John Dillinger?”

“In the beginning it was the biggest thrill of my life.  We would walk into a bank, take the money, and be out of there before the people even knew what had happened.  We even robbed a few police stations for tommy guns and ammo.  But, after a while, the thrill kind of wore off.  Don’t get me wrong, we all had more money than we had ever had in our entire lives.  But we couldn’t enjoy it.  We were traveling at night, so no one recognized us, and we slept in our cars during the day.  We were miserable.  Then one day John said he had a plan.  He wouldn’t say what it was, but I could tell by the look in his eyes it was big.  Shortly after that I heard on the radio that John was dead.  Of course, Hoover was going on and on in the newsreels about how he got Dillinger.  But deep down I doubted it.”

“So, how did he do it?  How did he fake his own death?”

 “There was a small-time hood, who looked a lot like John.  John reached out to him and said he would show him how to make it in the big time.   Knowing that the G-men were watching him, in July of ’34, John started making a lot of very public appearances.   First, he spent The Fourth of July at his parent’s house back in Indiana.   Then four days later he went to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field.  On July 21^st.  He paid a woman named Ana Sage to tell the G-men he was going to see a movie.  When John’s girlfriend, Poly Hamilton, came out of the Biograph Theater on the arm of John’s look alike, Melvin Purvis saw his opportunity to take out the most wanted man in America.”

“Why did John come see Grandpa eight months later?”

“After John attended his own funeral in Indianapolis, he went back to Chicago and stayed with a guy he knew from prison.  This guy stopped doing robberies and became the muscle for an outfit in Chicago.  Just like when he was in prison, John listened and learned how rackets operated.  John told me these guys were making over a million dollars a year in gambling alone.   Somehow, John got his hands on the blueprints of a slot machine.  Then he asked if we could make them for him.  Within a month, your grandpa was making slot machines in his garage.  After I learned, I moved out here and started making them too.  We make them, then John distributes them.”

“So, is your furniture business just a front for your real job of making slot machines?”

“Furniture is our main focus.  Slot machines just…supplements our income,” Harry said with a smile.

“Can I meet John?” Bill asked wide eyed.

“You want to meet John Dillinger?” Harry said with a laugh.  “I doubt I can make that happen.  But I tell you what, come work for us and I’ll see what I can do.”

“But I already have a job in Indiana.”

 “So, tell me, what do you pull down, back in Indiana?  Judging from that suit, I would say, what…a couple grand a year?  Work for us and I can start you out at two times that.  Listen, Bill, why don’t you work here for a year or two and learn the ropes.  Then you can pick any city in the U.S. you want, and we will make you the head of your own furniture factory there.”

Bill leaned back into his chair and rubbed his chin.  He had no interest in the furniture business, but he saw the perfect opportunity to get more information for his story.

“What if I work here on a trial basis, just to see if I like it?” Bill said as he stretched out his hand.

“You have a deal. But I guarantee once you’ve been here a while, you’ll love it,” Harry said shaking Bill’s hand.

Bill had a tinge of guilt lying to his uncle.  But he knew it would be worth it if he could get an interview with John Dillinger.

 

That evening, as Bill and Harry left the factory, they were approached by Bo.

“Mr. Harry Freeman?” Bo asked with a smile.

“Who’s asking?” Harry said in a gruff voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my name is Beauregard Swanson.  I’m a newspaper reporter.  I would like to ask you a few questions.  That is, if you don’t mind.”

Harry stepped forward and looked Bo directly in the eyes.  He took a long drag off of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into Bo’s face.  “I don’t talk to reporters,” he replied.

 Bo squinted his eyes and let out a cough as he waved the smoke from his face.  “I can appreciate your hesitation,” he said, still choking on the smoke.  “But I can assure you I will be brief.”

Harry pushed past Bo and headed for his car.

“If you don’t talk to me, I will have no choice but to tell the world how the man who owns Freeman Furniture at one time robbed banks with John Dillinger under an alias.”

Harry quickly spun around, marched back to Bo and towered over him.  “Was that a threat?”

“Oh no, Mr. Freeman…I would never threaten a man with a past such as yours.  I am simply wanting to know your side of the story.” 

“You want my side of the story?  Here’s my side of the story.  You have no proof I rode with Dillinger.  So, if you print a single word of that, you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat Mr. Freeman?”

When Harry placed his hands on his hips, Bo caught a glimpse of a .38 revolver under Harry’s suit jacket.

“I don’t make threats…just promises,” Harry said.

Bo glanced at the gun then looked into Harry’s eyes. “I can prove you not only attended school with Mr. Dillinger, but you also had a friendship with him.  So, why don’t you just tell me something about him.  Something the general public wouldn’t know.”

“Like I told you…I don’t talk to reporters.” Harry said before he stormed off.

After Harry walked away, Bo turned toward Bill with a raised eyebrow.  “We meet again.  I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I’m just visiting my uncle.”

“And how long will you be staying?”

“It looks like indefinitely.  Harry just offered me a job working at his factory.”

 “What about your dream of being a front-page reporter?  Are you just going to give that up?”

“Well…I um…,” Bill said searching for the right words to say.

“I knew it,” Bo interrupted.  “You are working on a story.  You have taken a job with your uncle to gain information on the rumor that Mr. John Dillinger is still alive.”

Bill crossed his arms and let out a snicker.  “Dillinger is still alive?  Where did you get a crazy idea like that?”

“The same place that told me your uncle once worked with Mr. Dillinger robbing banks…my very reliable sources.  Bo said as he shook his index finger in the air.  “I’m telling you, Bill, I’m going to uncover the truth about Mr. Dillinger sooner or later.  So, consider this.  If we work together, we could go down in history as one of the greatest investigative reporting duos ever.”

“I’m not interested in working with you on your story,” Bill replied calmly.

Bo gave him a grin.  “So, are you working on a story as well?”

Bill stepped forward and looked Bo in the eyes. “Yeah, I’m working on a story…a really good story.”

“And what is the nature of this…good story?”

 “I’m not telling you what it’s about.  But I bet you it’ll be on the front page.  So, I tell you what, when I’m finished with it, I’ll send you a copy.”

“Well, if you change your mind about joining me, I’m staying at The Sky View Motel on Madison Avenue…room 208,” Bo said as he put his hands into his pockets and strolled away.

 

  

Reviews

[Michelle Saldana]

Popped some popcorn for this chapter! lol

It's about time we got some answers surrounding John Dillinger's escape from death.

As for Bo, can he just give it a rest already? Gah, the tension is real, and I'm here for it!

[Gary]

Thank you once again for the kind words.
My number one goal was to make this as historically accurate as possible (with a few liberties of course) so hopefully Dillinger's escape is plausible.

[Michelle Saldana]

Historical accuracy with a dash of creativity is what makes this story so captivating for me. The way you're blending real events with your own twists keeps me on the edge of my seat.

[SweetNutmeg]

Only found a few items to remark upon. Two of them are subject/verb agreements, which I am unsure if this is just how the character talks.

"It was the Depression…my family and I was starving"

"Slot machines just…supplements our income"

The other item is a punctuation error.

“The same place that told me your uncle once worked with Mr. Dillinger robbing banks…my very reliable sources. Bo said as he shook his index finger in the air.

You forgot the end quote, and end quote should be preceded by a comma, not a period.

This character Bo is getting annoying, in a good way. If that was your goal, you nailed it. I'm getting very frustrated with him on Bill's behalf. I'm starting to wonder what might happen to Bill if he does ever get his story. His uncles don't seem like they have gentle natures.

Good chapter, the plot thickens.

[Gary]

Thank you for your keen eye on the end quote. And yes, I do want Bo to be a bit of a thorn in Bill's side.