To Catch a Spy: A Toby Peters Mystery (Book Twenty-Two) by Stuart M. Kaminsky

Author:Stuart M. Kaminsky [Kaminsky, Stuart M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2011-12-13T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

10

Baron’s Radios and Phonographs was a two-window shop with an entrance between the windows. On one side of Baron’s was M’Lady’s Gifts and Greeting Cards. On the other side was a Chinese carry-out restaurant.

The windows of Baron’s displayed a variety of radios, mostly tabletops, and a few phonographs. There was a Minute Man poster in the window ordering me to buy United States bonds and stamps and a poster of that RCA dog listening to the sound coming out of that big megaphone.

I went in. A little bell on the door announced me, but no one appeared. I walked over to one of the tables where some little radios sat. I was touching the smooth surface of one when a man came through an open door at the back of the shop.

He was slightly stoop-shouldered, had large round glasses, and wore a blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves. A pair of headsets hung around his neck.

“Yes sir,” he said, blinking.

“Looking for a radio,” I said. “Tabletop. Nothing expensive.”

At that point, I realized I was actually in the market for a radio. Why not? I could see myself lying on my mattress, propped up with pillows, drinking a cup of coffee, listening to I Love a Mystery.

“Got your hand on a nice one,” he said. “1939 FADA L-96W ivory Bakelite body, easy-to-read gold dials with gold numbers. Compact. Yours for eighteen dollars.”

“Nice,” I said, picking it up.

He plugged it in, turned it on, and searched for a station. He found The Goldbergs. “I’m warning you, Solomon,” came the high-pitched voice. The audience laughed.

“Great sound, good balance,” the salesman said.

He turned off the radio and pointed to the one next to it. “Another Bakelite. Zenith 6D-512. Dark brown. 1938. New tubes. Tuned it up myself. Also eighteen dollars.”

“What I’m looking for, Mr.…”

“Baron, Jack Baron,” he said, holding out his hand. We shook.

“What I’m looking for is something with a bigger sound.”

“No trouble. Those four. All Philcos. I could give you the 80 model for twenty.”

“Can I just look around?” I asked.

“Take your time. I’ve got a full line of Zeniths, Atwater Kents, Crosleys, American Bosch, Emerson. Good deals.”

“Friend of mine recommended you,” I said, touching an upright wooden Emerson that looked a little too big for the table in my room.

Baron smiled and nodded.

“Name is Bruno Volkman,” I said, pretending to examine the Emerson but watching him for a reaction. He gave none.

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Baron said.

I took out the photograph of Volkman and Cookin-ham and showed it to him.

“You carry photographs of your friends around with you?”

“He’s sort of missing,” I said.

Baron looked at the photograph again.

“Man with the beard, no. Other guy is Martin something. Martin Andrews, Martin Adams, something like that.”

“He bought more than one radio from you?” I asked.

“Didn’t buy any radios,” Baron said. “Transcribers. Phonographs. Make records like they do on the radio. Bought one about four, five months ago and updated to a better model about four weeks ago. Follow me.”

He walked back toward and through the door at the rear of the shop, with me a few steps behind.

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