Family Secrets-Chapter Three

 By the time Bill arrived at his Uncle Tom’s two-story brick home in St. Louis, the sun was just beginning to set.  After a grand tour of the house, Bill and Tom sat down in Tom’s study.

“What can you tell me about this?” Bill said handing Tom the photo.

“So, you found it,” Tom said with a grin.

“I know when Dillinger was in town and needed someplace to stay; Grandpa would put him up at his house.  Did he know Dillinger was coming, or would he just show up?”

“Harry would let us know a day or two before he showed up.”

“So, how did Harry know he was coming?”

Tom gave Bill a wide smile as he puffed his chest with pride. “Harry rode with him.”

Bill sat for a moment with his mouth gaped open.  “U…Uncle Harry was in Dillinger’s gang?”

“Yep, Harry was one of the scouts.  He would go into town a day or two ahead of the rest of the gang. Then he would get the layout of the bank, plan the getaway route, whatever he could to make sure things went off without a hitch.  Then the day of the robbery he would stand guard at the door.”

 Bill ran his fingers through his hair.  “I can’t believe this.  Uncle Harry was in Dillinger’s gang?  Why haven’t I heard about any of this until right now?”

Tom let out a sigh and rested his forearms on his knees with his fingers intertwined.

“Listen, Bill…your grandpa and I… we were really proud of Harry when he told us he was going to ride with John.   But we all knew some of the family wouldn’t be so happy about it.   Plus, we were all afraid that if the people in town found out, the feds would be all over us.  So, Harry got himself a fake I.D and took off with John.  Then, after John faked his death, Harry moved out to California to start his own furniture business under his real name.   After that, nobody in the family talked much about John.”

Bill took a moment to collect his thoughts before he continued.  “So, do you remember the day the photo was taken?”

Tom quickly sat upright with a huge smile.

“I sure do… I’m the one who took the picture.  I just got the camera for Christmas, so I was taking pictures of everything,” Tom said with a laugh.  “To tell you the truth, I had forgotten about taking it until I got the film developed about a year later.  Then I had John sign it and I gave the photo to Dad for his birthday.”

“You still had contact with John a year after this was taken?” Bill said shaking his head in disbelief.  “When was the last time you saw him?”

“Well… I haven’t seen him since that day at your grandpa’s, but Harry still has contact with him.  So, on one of my business trips to California to see Harry, I left the photo with him so John could sign it.”

“Does John still live in California?”

“Yeah, apparently he lives in a mansion close to Harry’s furniture factory.”

“Uncle David said that John had a bag full of money as a thank you for hiding him out.  Is that true?”

“It sure is.  That’s the money I used to move out here to St. Louis and join Harry in his furniture business.  But we don’t do things like your Uncle David.  You see, David sits in his little shop and waits for people to come to him, and then he builds the furniture.  We take more of a Henry Ford approach, and we mass produce the furniture.  Harry makes the bigger pieces like couches and loveseats, where I specialize in tables and chairs.  Now we supply furniture stores all over the U.S.  And the best part is, we only oversee the operation.  We never touch anything, so we keep our hands clean.  Now, if you want, we could set you up with a pretty cushy job in our organization, seeing how you are family,” Tom said with a wink.

“I already have a job.  And if everything goes right, I’ll be getting a promotion soon.”

“So, where are you working at now?”

“Oh, I um, I still work in the pressroom at the newspaper.”

“Really, I thought you left that job to go to school or something?”

“That um, that didn’t work out the way I had hoped, now, let’s get back to the photo,” Bill said trying to change the subject.  “Why did you have to leave the photo with Harry to have John sign it?  Why didn’t you do that personally if John lives close to Harry’s factory?”

“Harry said now that John lives in California, he’s changed his name and he tries to keep out of sight.  So, Harry just took care of that for me.”

“What did John change his name to?” Bill asked.

“I don’t know… Harry won’t tell me,” Tom replied.

 

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

“I wonder who that is?” Tom said in a curious tone.

“I may know,” Bill said sheepishly.  “There was a reporter snooping around back home, and I let it slip that you live here in St. Louis.”

 

Tom opened the door and looked Bo up and down.

“Uncle Tom, this is Bo Swanson, the reporter I was telling you about.” Bill said.

Bo took a moment to admire the house.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Freeman.  My, what a lovely home you have here.  The furniture business must be booming.”

“Let’s just cut to it.  What do you want Mr. Swanson?” Tom said.

“Very well,” Bo said as he pulled his notebook out.  “Is it true you once knew the notorious bank robber John Dillinger?”

“The Dillinger’s lived in our neighborhood growing up.  So, our paths may have crossed.”

“According to my sources, your older brother Harry and Mr. Dillinger were close friends.  Surely, you did more that just simply cross paths with him?”

“I guess I tagged along with Harry and John a time or two.”

“When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Dillinger?”

Tom rubbed his chin.  “Let me see… John and his family moved from Indianapolis to Mooresville when he was about 18.  I’m four years younger than John so that would make it…um…1921.”

“So, you are saying that you had no contact with Mr. John Dillinger or his family after he moved from your neighborhood?” Bo said writing in his notebook.

“Well, in ’24 I went to Martinsville to watch John play shortstop for a semi-pro baseball team.  But I didn’t really talk to him.   I just watched a few games.”

“That’s very interesting, Mr. Freeman.  You see, according to my sources, you attended a get together at the home of John Dillinger’s parents on the Fourth of July in 1934…a get together where Mr.  John Dillinger himself was also in attendance.”

“Like I told you before Mr. Swanson,” Bill interrupted.  “Your sources are incorrect.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Mr. Reeves.  You see, after you told me your uncle was here in St. Louis, I contacted my source.  They are the ones who gave me this address.”

“Your source may know my address,” Tom said.   “But I know nothing about a Fourth of July get-together.  Now, if you don’t mind, it’s getting late, and I have work tomorrow.”

“Maybe we can finish this conversation on a later date then?”

Tom squared his shoulders and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “No, I believe we’re done here.”

“Very well”, Bo said as he put away his notebook.  “Do have a good evening, Mr. Freeman.”

 

After Tom closed the door, he scratched his chin and gave Bill a concerned look.  “That reporter knows an awful lot.  He could be trouble.”

“So, were you at the Dillinger’s on the Fourth of July?”

“Yeah, and so was Harry, and if that reporter knows that I think I know who his source could be.”

Bill moved to the edge of his seat. “Who do you think his source is?”

“It could be Melvin Purvis.”

“Melvin Purvis…you mean the Federal Agent who supposedly shot Dillinger?”

“Yeah, Purvis is from South Carolina, just like that reporter.  And, when Harry and I were at the party on the Fourth, there was a rumor that he was hot on John’s trail.  He’s the only one I can think of that would know we were there.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me about the photo?”

“If you are going out to see Harry, he will fill you in on the rest,” Tom said as he slapped Bill on the back.  “Goodnight, Bill.”

“Yeah, goodnight, Uncle Tom,” Bill replied.

 

As Bill went to bed that night, he wasn’t sure how he felt about his Uncle Harry being part of Dillinger’s gang.  He shuddered at the thought, but the reality was his uncle may have killed someone while robbing a bank.  Bill wanted nothing more than to break this story, but he was afraid of what else he may learn along the way. 

 

Bill left early the next morning to continue his journey west.  Around noon, he was on a long, lonely stretch of highway.  With only the sound of the hum of his tires on the road, his eyes began to get heavy. Struggling to stay awake, Bill stopped in the first town he came to.  He got out of his car and stretched, then walked towards a diner on the corner.  Bill stopped, put his hands on his hips and clinched his jaw when he saw Bo’s dark blue Ford pulling into a parking spot.   Just then, Bill remembered the words his grandpa had said many times.

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

Bill painted on a smile and approached Bo.  “Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly as Bo exited his car.

Bo looked over both shoulders then looked at Bill with a raised eyebrow.   “Good afternoon, Mr. Reeves,” he replied suspiciously.

“Please, call me Bill,” he said still smiling.  “You know, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Bill said as he put his arm around Bo’s shoulders.  “How about I buy you lunch, and we get to know each other better?”

“I would like that,” Bo said as he reached for his notebook.  “So, how long have you known about your family’s connection to John Dillinger?”

“Come now, Bo, can’t you forget about your story for just an hour so we can enjoy our lunch?”

“Well, I suppose I could refrain from pursuing my story until the end of our lunch,” Bo said as he pushed his notebook back into his pocket.

 

“So, tell me a little about yourself,” Bill said as they slid into the booth of the diner.

Bo leaned back into the booth and looked at Bill for a moment before he leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table.

“My father, like his father before, was a farmer.  I however, had no desire to follow in their footsteps.  It seemed I always wanted my nose in a book instead of my hand on a plow.  I once even had dreams of being a writer, much like my idol Mr. Samuel Clemens.”

“Ah…so, you’re a fan of Mark Twain,” Bill said.

“Very good,” Bo said as he gave Bill a nod of approval.  “Are you a fan of the arts?”

“I prefer a good mystery novel myself.  But I enjoy reading Mark Twain from time to time, that is, when I’m not working,” Bill said as he picked up a menu.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

“I work for a newspaper,” Bill said without thinking.

“Oh, are you a reporter as well?” Bo asked as he perked up.

Bill’s mind raced for a moment, disappointed in what he had said.  “Yes, I um…I write for the sports section.  Right now, I’m just covering local high school sporting events and things like that.  But who knows, maybe someday I’ll be on the front page.  So, when did you decide to become a reporter?”  Bill said trying to take the focus off of him.

“In high school after I joined the school newspaper.  It was there I discovered my passion for journalism and seeking out the truth. I started working for The Florence Times shortly after graduating from college.  Currently I am writing for the social page.  But like you, I desire to see my writing on the front page.  And I can assure you, after I finish the story I am currently working on, I will be a respected investigative reporter.”  Bo looked at Bill with a sly grin.  “You know…if you have any inside information about your family’s connection to Mr. John Dillinger, we could work together on this story.  I would even be willing to make you a co-writer so we could both accomplish our goal of being front-page reporters.”

“I thought we agreed to not talk about your story for an hour.”

“I do apologize Bill…I must have gotten carried away for a moment.”

Deep down Bill was tempted to work with Bo on his story.  “What if Bo knows something to make my story better?”  Bill thought to himself.  But the thought quickly left his mind.  This was his story.  There was no way he was sharing the spotlight with anyone.

As the two continued talking, Bill discovered they had much in common.  He knew if the situation was different, they may have even been friends.

 

Reviews

[Michelle Saldana]

Bo just keeps rubbing me the wrong way. I hope he isn’t up to no good. I wish the family would be a bit more guarded and stop giving Bo more details, given that his ulterior motives are not entirely transparent.

Also, I wonder if Bill is aware of Bo's possible intentions and is playing a longer game?

I'll definitely continue reading to see what happens next!

[Gary]

Thank you for sticking with the story so far.

[Michelle Saldana]

Absolutely! It's a truly engaging and captivating read.

[SweetNutmeg]

The plot thickens! I'm still curious how Bo got on this story. In fact, it is a nagging question which keeps me reading. I'm dying to find out. I'm also in huge suspense as to whether Bill will rat out his family in the pursuit of fame.

I only found one noteworthy spot, where you state something pretty obvious, and mix up the punctuation.

“That um, that didn’t work out the way I had hoped, now, let’s get back to the photo,” Bill said trying to change the subject.

We already know he is trying to change the subject, but we might want to know how he feels about it. Putting a period after "hoped" and starting a new sentence makes more sense to me.

And then there is one missing comma in this sentence:

Bill said trying to take the focus off of him.

Thanks again! I learn much from reading your works.

[Gary]

Thank you for the always helpful reviews. I see your point. Now off to editing.