Read 1963 - One Bright Summer Morning for Free Online Page A

right, darling. I'll fix something nice for him. I didn't mean anything. It just worried me that he should turn up here . . . out of the past.”
    Kramer studied her.
    “There's nothing to worry about,” he said and got to his feet. “Well, I'm off to the airport. We'll get back around half past twelve. See you, sweetheart.” He patted her behind with a heavy hand, brushed his lips across her cheek and went out of the room.
    Helene went back to her chair and sat down. Her legs felt suddenly weak. Moe Zegetti! Her mind went back to those years when Moe was Jim's right-hand man. She had nothing against Moe personally: it was what he stood for that frightened her. An ex-convict! Here in Paradise City when she and Jim had won their way into Paradise City's society and were regarded as two nice, respectable people, always wanted when a party was thrown. Suppose someone found out that Moe had had lunch with them? She put her hand to her face. What was Jim thinking of?
     
    * * *
     
    Inspector Jay Dennison and Special Agent Tom Harper, both of the F.B.I., were waiting impatiently in the airport lobby for their flight to Washington to be announced. Dennison, a burly, muscular man with a ginger moustache and a bridge of freckles across his thick nose, was getting on for forty-eight: a sound, hard-working Federal Agent whose headquarters was in Paradise City. Harper looked a stripling beside the inspector. He was tall, lean and some twenty years the inspector's junior and making his way. Even Dennison, who was a hard taskmaster, was satisfied with the way Harper was shaping. The two men had grown to like each other, and now Harper was planning to marry Dennison's daughter.
    It was while they were sitting away from the swirl of the crowd that Dennison suddenly put his hand on Harper's arm.
    “Look who's blown in,” he said. “That fat little punk just passing through the arrival gate.”
    Harper spotted the short fat man with greying hair and a fat, round, sweating face who had just walked into the lobby. He meant nothing to Harper, who looked inquiringly at his chief.
    Dennison got to his feet.
    “Play this gently,” he said. “This punk interests me.”
    The two men moved casually after the little man who was carrying a brand new suitcase. As he reached the double glass doors leading out into the parking lot where lines of taxis and cars waited, Dennison paused.
    “That's Moe Zegetti,” he said, watching Moe as he stood looking to right and left uncertainly. “Remember him? You wouldn't have met him . . . before your time, but you'll remember his record.”
    “So that's Zegetti,” Harper said, his lean face showing his interest. “Sure, I remember his record. He was Kramer's stooge and he was one of the top boys in the rackets at one time. He went down for six years and has been out two: since then he has been behaving himself. Looks as if he's done himself pretty well. That's a nice suit he's got on.”
    Dennison glanced at Harper and nodded approvingly.
    “That's the punk. Now I wonder what he is doing here.”
    “Look . . . to your left. There's Kramer himself!”
    A voice distorted by the loudspeaker system announced that all passengers for Washington should go at once to Gate 5.
    The two Federal Agents paused long enough to see Kramer wave a big hand and Moe Zegetti start towards him before they reluctantly turned away and walked with the crowd to Gate 5.
    “Kramer and Zegetti . . . an unbeatable combination,” Dennison said thoughtfully. “Could mean trouble.”
    “You don't imagine Kramer is coming out of retirement?” Harper said. “He wouldn't be that crazy with all his money.”
    Dennison shrugged.
    “I don't know. I've been asking myself why Solly Lucas shot himself. He looked after Kramer's money. Well, we'll keep tabs on them. I'll alert the boys when we're on the plane. I've waited twenty-one years to get Kramer. If he's coming out of retirement. . . this could be my chance.”
    Unaware that he