Angel's Flight (Black Gat Books Book 10) by Lou Cameron

Author:Lou Cameron [Cameron, Lou]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Thriller & Suspense, Hard-Boiled
ISBN: 9781944520182
Publisher: Stark House Press
Published: 2018-04-21T12:00:00+00:00

Funny how you can go along on your lonesome while your wallet’s flat. I’m not saying people were ducking into doorways during the time I was drifting in limbo, but it struck me odd how many old acquaintances wanted to get in touch with me after our combo moved uptown.

Franky the Drum wrote to me from a V.A. hospital where he was learning to blow traps with an artificial hand. He’d blown off the one his mamma gave him trying to toss a Jap grenade back to its owner. Seems little Franky’d saved a whole dugout full of G.I.s in the process. The army’d shipped him home with the silver star and told him he could bleach his hair again.

Sure, the letter was a bite. But I’d bit him a couple of times, and had both hands when I done it. So I wired him half a bill and told him not to believe I was as big as the three-sheet said I was.

Blanche Halloway didn’t put the bite on me. The guy she was living with did. Said Blanche needed an operation and he was a poor but honest runner for an L.A. bookie who owed him dough and could I send him a few bills until his horse came in? I didn’t answer it. I don’t mind being a sucker but I knew Blanche would never see the dough and he’d probably get drunk enough on it to beat her.

A couple of army buddies nicked me for a pass to the club when they hit town. I had to pay the tab and tip the maître de for them so they’d think I was the big wheel they told their wives I was.

My old platoon leader had a kid brother who wanted to blow a horn. I didn’t owe the bastard anything but a bullet in the brain. He’d been hound dog yellow on the line and chicken in the rear area. But I let the kid sit in with us a couple of times and squared it with the union. The kid couldn’t blow, and on top of that he wanted number two chair because his big brother was my old army buddy.

Tico took him out in the service entrance one night and taught him not to call a Puerto Rican a spic where he can hear you. Last I heard of the kid he was hanging out in a coffee joint in the Village, telling folks what a louse I was now that I’d gotten a break.

So I wasn’t too surprised when I looked out over the crowd one night and spotted a familiar face peering at me from behind a bopster beard. It was Marvin Knopff. He was with a Miami-tanned blonde who wasn’t born that way and sent me a card in case I didn’t know him under the shrubbery.

I was about to toss the card away when I looked at it. It read:

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.