Read The Stein & Candle Detective Agency, Vol. 1: American Nightmares (The Stein & Candle Detective Agency #1) for Free Online Page A

famed policeman Cesare Mori, who wanted an example made of him, and handed him to the Nazi SS. When he busted out of prison after the war, his entire body was covered in bandages, which he never seemed to remove. No one knew why. No one dared to ask. “And I owe him money, but now someone kidnapped Henry Wallace and is demanding a similar sum.”
    “And you don’t have enough to pay both?”
    Baum shrugged. “I’m a gambler. Sometimes you get a good hand. Sometimes you don’t. Normally, I can stay afloat long enough to take care of myself and my boy.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket, fat with cash. “I’ll deal with Don Vizzini. Maybe I can ask for an extension, or maybe plead for mercy.” The chance of Vizzini letting someone owe him was pretty damn slim, but Baum didn’t care. “I pulled in every favor I could. I worked like a dog. But I did it. I got the ransom. If you find Henry Wallace’s captors, you give this to them and get him back, you understand?”
    “Honestly, Mr. Baum, the kidnappers in most situations aren’t that trustworthy. Your son might not even be alive.” He flinched and the envelope shook in his hands. “I’m sorry,” I said, coming to my feet. “But that’s the way it is.”
    “Just take it.” He pressed the envelope full of money into my hands and I pocketed it. “Do whatever it takes,” he said. “This town’s a cesspool and I’ve been swimming around in it. I should’ve known that it would get to my son sooner or later.”
    Weatherby and I came to our feet. Weatherby Stein looked over his spectacles, staring at Sly Baum with his cold eyes. “We’ll do everything we can, sir,” he said. “Try not to fret. We’ll walk through Hell itself to return your child to his loving father.”
    “Thanks,” Baum said. He turned away from us. “Paco! Get me a glass of tequila and leave the bottle.” He looked back at us. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
    “Sure,” I said. “I think we’ll go and pay a visit to Miss Rosa, see what she knows.” I nodded to Weatherby. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s make some tracks.”
    We walked out of the high stakes room and down the stairwell to the casino floor. “Must you call me ‘kiddo’ you brick-headed buffoon?” Weatherby asked. “I find it quite irritating.”
    I shrugged. “That, and everything else in the world.” We stepped into the street. The sun was a blistering punch of tropical light, right into the eyes. I blinked a few times. “You heeled?”
    “I have my father’s revolver in my coat,” Weatherby said, his voice going low. “Do you think there will be an opportunity to use the weapon?”
    “This is Havana, kiddo,” I replied. “Ain’t nothing here but opportunities.”

    We caught a cab to Miss Rosa’s place, an upscale penthouse in the Flamingo Hotel. The cab driver knew just where to take us. I bet he had chauffeured more gringos to Miss Rosa’s bed than there were sands on the beach. He let us go with a smile, but then looked at Weatherby. “He’s kind of small, isn’t he, Senor?” he asked me. “You bringing him to see Miss Rosa?”
    I smiled back as I stepped onto the curb. “Maybe he’ll wait outside.”
    “What the devil are you jabbering out?” Weatherby demanded. “I’ll go inside, just like you.” The taxi drove off as we started walking down the curving sidewalk to the wide lobby doors. “Now, what exactly is Miss Rosa’s profession? Why did Mr. Baum care to visit her?”
    “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” I replied. Weatherby knew his Latin proverbs, kings of Teutonic states and occult facts by heart, but he was still about as naïve as they come.
    We headed down the walkway and into the white and pink stucco hotel. A short elevator ride later, we had reached the top floor. The doors swung open and we walked into the hallway outside Miss Rosa’s door. It was locked, but I didn’t mind. I liked to make an entrance.
    I smashed open the door and stepped