Family Secrets-Chapter Five

The next day, Bill went back to Harry’s office to start training for his “new job.”

“If you want to run your own factory, you need to learn every aspect of the process,” Harry said as he lit a cigarette and led Bill out of the office.  “Here’s what I want you to do…You’ll spend one month doing every job here.  In one year, you will understand everyone’s job.  Then we can start training you how to run the place.”

“Can I see how you make the…um…specialty items?” Bill asked with a wink.

“What do you mean?”

 Bill looked around to make sure no one was around.  “You know…Can I see how you make the slot machines?” he whispered.

“If you stick around long enough, you’ll see that,” Harry replied with a grin.  “But first you need to learn how to make furniture.”   

 

Harry took Bill through the factory showing him every step of the process of making furniture.  They continued through the building until they reached the loading dock.

“The first thing I want you to learn is shipping and receiving,” Harry said.

Bill saw a short, stocky man about Harry’s age approaching them with a pronounced limp.  His gray hair was combed over to cover his balding head.

“Bill, I would like for you to meet Peter Russell.  He’s the man over shipping and receiving.  Pete, this is my nephew, Bill Reeves.  He’s learning the business, so I want you to show him everything you know,” Harry said.

Peter stretched out his hand.  “You must be Carol’s boy.”

“Yes, I am, but how do you know my mom?” Bill asked, giving Peter a firm handshake.

“I knew your mom before you were even born.  We grew up in the same neighborhood.  Then, when I got older, I would stay with your grandpa when I was…um… passing through town.  Your mom would cook for us too.   I sure did love her meatloaf,” Peter said with a smile.

“That was always one of my favorites too.”

 

For the rest of the morning Bill pretended to be interested in every word Peter said about shipping and receiving.  Around noon, Peter took his lunch box outside to a picnic table and began eating.

Bill sat on the bench across from Peter and placed the photo on the table.  Peter glanced at the photo only for a moment before he quickly slid it back to Bill.

“Put that thing away,” Peter snapped as he looked around to see if anyone was watching. “You can’t go flashing that thing around here. What are you trying to do, get us both in trouble?”

 Bill calmly put the photo back into his pocket.  “Harry won’t mind me showing you this.”

“You still can’t go flashing that thing around here.  People might see it and start asking questions…question me and Harry don’t want to answer.”

“So, was you in Dillinger’s gang too?”

Peter dropped his head and stared at his half-eaten sandwich for a moment before he let out a sigh.  “Yeah… I’m not real proud of it.  But I used to ride with him.”

“What was John Dillinger really like?”

“Don’t believe everything you hear Bill.  Some people made John out to be some kind of hero or something.  They even said he was a modern day, Robin Hood.  He would walk into a barber shop, get a seven-cent haircut, then hand the guy a fifty and tell him to keep the change.  But the truth was he only cared about himself.  I’m telling you, his heart was so cold, he had ice water running through his veins.”

“So, why did you start riding with him?”

“Growing up John was the toughest guy in the whole neighborhood.   I wanted to prove I was just as tough as he was, so somehow, I let John talk me into joining his gang.   The first three jobs went really good.  It was the easiest money I ever made.  Then all Hell broke loose over in Ohio.  That’s how I got this limp.  As we were running out of the bank, bullets came at us from every direction. The cops, and even some of the local town’s people, started shooting at.  That’s when a bullet hit me in the leg.  Even though they had us surrounded, your Uncle Harry picked me up and carried me to the car.  He saved my life that day, I’m sure of it.  Then I went back home, and I quit working for John.”

“And then after John faked his death, he offered you a job here, right?”

Peter sat straight up and looked at Bill with near panic in his eyes.  “What…what in the world do you mean by that?”

“I know the truth.  Harry told me John is still alive.  He also told me about the slot machines,” Bill reassured him.

Peter gave Bill a long look before he relaxed his shoulders and rested his forearms on the edge of the table.  “No, it was your Uncle Harry that offered me the job here.  Your uncle is one of a kind.”

“Does John stop by here often?”

“Yeah, he stops in every once in a while.  Just to see how the operation is going.”

“You mean making slot machines?  How do they do that?”

“When John has an order, a crew comes in after the last guy clocks out on Friday.  Then they work all weekend to make them.  When they’re done, I ship them out on Sunday night.  The whole operation is done and cleaned up before the first guy clocks back in on Monday morning.”

“Is there any chance I can meet John?”

“Sure, you can meet him.  You’ll just never know you did.  Did you know there are doctors out here in California that can completely change the way you look?”

“Do you mean plastic surgery?”

“Yeah, that’s what John called it.  I had never heard of such a thing.  First, they burnt off his fingerprints with acid.  Then they made it so his own father wouldn’t even recognize him.  Then he changed his name.  That way nobody knows who he really is.”

“So, do you know what he changed his name to?”

“Yeah, but I’m not telling you what it is.  He told all of us up front, if we told anybody what it was, he would kill us.  And I believe him.  I’ve seen him kill men for a lot less.”

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The next morning, Bo went to a city park and sat down on a bench close to a pond.  A few moments later, a man wearing sunglasses with a flattop haircut sat down next to him.  The man began pulling bread out of a sack and started feeding the nearby ducks.

“Are you Beauregard Swanson?” the man asked in a soft tone looking only at the ducks.

 Bo looked at the man and pulled out his notebook.  “Yes, sir I am.  Are you Federal Agent Ken Bishop?”

“Don’t look at me and put the notebook away,” Ken snapped.  He scanned the area and continued to feed the ducks.  “Let’s make this quick.   What do you want to know?”

Bo quickly turned back toward the pond.  “Is it true, that the former bank robber John Dillinger is now living here in California?”

“Yes, he is.”

“And how can you be so certain?”

“Before I got on with the FBI, I worked for the Indiana State Police.  In March of 1934, I escorted Dillinger to a Prison in Crown Point.  As I was putting him in his cell, he looked me in the eye and told me he was going to escape.  Unfortunately, he made good on his word.”

Ken paused and slowly shook his head as a scowl came across his face.  “He carved a gun out of a block of wood and bluffed his way out,” he said through his gritted teeth.  After he composed himself, he continued.

“Shortly after that, I started with the FBI. Then, in early ’38, I was assigned out here to California as part of a new organized crime unit.  We had reports of a man by the name of Carl Hellman making some pretty big moves.  Through violence and intimidation, he was setting up illegal casinos, loan shark operations, prostitution rings, you name it.  We can’t prove it, but we believe he has laundered some of the money through a local furniture factory.  So, I went undercover and I met Carl Hellman in person.  The moment I heard him speak a cold chill went through me.  I just knew it was John Dillinger. His face was completely different, but I recognized his voice from that day in Indiana.  Luckily, he didn’t recognize me.  If he did, he would have killed me for sure.  Right after that, I contacted your uncle because he was my supervisor.   When I told him my suspicions, he told me how Hoover had covered up Dillinger faking his death and that he refused to reopen the case.  So, I’ve spent the last twenty years of my life trying to pin something on Hellman.  But I never got anything to stick.  I have to give it to him, he is good.  But I still have a few years before I retire.  And trust me…I won’t give up until I get him.”

“Is there any way you can tell me where we might find Mr. Hellman, so I could possibly meet him myself?” Bo asked.

“Like I said, Hellman is good.   But he has one weakness.  At least once every week he pays a visit to the Victoria Hotel downtown.  Don’t let the swanky dining room and high-dollar rooms fool you.  The top two floors are a brothel for the rich and famous and there’s a casino in the basement.  There’s a girl that works there named Monique, she’s Carl’s favorite.  Sometimes he takes her down to the casino and lets her blow his money at the roulette table.”

“And how exactly does one gain access to the casino?”

“Go to the alley behind the hotel and you will find a black metal door.  Just knock on that door three times.  If you have cash in your hand, they will let you in.  But if you want to talk to Carl personally, that’s a bit harder.  When I met him, I went to the blackjack table and told the dealer Lizzie Fields sent me.  Then another guy set up the meeting for me.”

“Well, I want to thank you very much sir, you have been quite helpful.”

“I’m only doing this as a favor to your uncle…he taught me everything I know.   But I have to ask you something.  Are you really going to put all of this in a newspaper?”

“That is my intention,” Bo replied with a grin.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.  It’s been my experience that everyone who crosses Carl Hellman, ends up dead or turns up missing.”

“I do appreciate the warning, but I still intend on seeing this through.”

“It’s your funeral,” Ken said as he walked away.

 

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

This chapter is flawless technically, no little mistakes or typos.

I remember hearing about Dillinger's attempt to erradicate his fingerprints. From what I understood, it just made him that much easier to identify... how many people have acid scars for fingerprints? Just one, John Dillinger.

I keep thinking, both Bo and Bill are playing with fire. They are messing around with very dangerous people, and none of them will be happy to be in the newspaper. Their investigations have been very obvious. These guys, Bo and Bill, really want to get ahead, no matter the consequences, even for themselves. As usual, you have left me wondering what will come next.

[Gary]

Yes, a Chicago doctor admitted to removing Dillinger's fingerprints and attempting to remove his signature cleft chin. The procedure allegedly took place in a pub leaving Dillinger scared.

Thank you for reading.

[Michelle Saldana]

At last, the John Dillinger mystery is unfolding in mind-blowing ways!

Bill, infiltrating his uncle's factory to uncover secrets and gather information, total spy material. Bo confronting FBI agent Ken Bishop, gutsy.

The revelation about Dillinger's new identity carries intense weight, and that warning? gahh.. a real tension-builder!

While Bo isn't my favorite character, the potential partnership between him and Bill is quite exciting due to the prospect that we may soon discover the full truth.