Read Online Indiana Belle (American Journey Book 3) by John A. Heldt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John A. Heldt
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with the natives in the age of Calvin Coolidge, Prohibition, and jazz.
Cameron picked up his step as he crossed Division, Vine, and Sycamore – streets with generic names – and maintained that clip until he reached the intersection with Main Street. Though he had no schedule to keep, he was eager to explore a district he had mapped out in his mind. Everything he needed to see in this town lay in the next eight blocks.
He turned northeast, away from the river, and started down Main. With each tentative step, he moved closer to a scene that looked like the set of a silent movie. Gentlemen in pinstriped suits and straw hats escorted ladies in coats and frocks into and out of shops. Men honked at pedestrians, bicyclists, and other motorists as they drove roadsters and coupes through chaotic intersections. People unwilling to travel the busy street on foot jumped onto trolleys or piled into cabs. If Evansville wasn't Los Angeles or Chicago, it wasn't Mayberry either.
Cameron glanced at a watch he had purchased in Denver, noted the time of one thirty, and crossed Second Street. He considered stopping at a café for a bite to eat but decided instead to keep moving. He wanted to see Evansville's commercial heart while it was beating in the middle of the busiest day of the week.
It wasn't long before he saw something worth seeing. Sandwiched between a cigar shop and a bank was a business Cameron knew well – or at least knew well through the product it had produced since 1850. The Evansville Record was the city's oldest newspaper. A fierce rival of the Evansville Post , it had aggressively reported Candice Bell's murder and Tom Parker's trial, using the Post's misfortune to sell papers and gain leverage in a competitive marketplace.
Cameron peeked in the paper's front window. He saw a receptionist chew on her nails and a man, probably a reporter, hang a jacket on a rack and scurry into the newsroom. He considered stepping inside to buy a copy of the paper when he heard a boy call out to him.
"Hey, mister, do you want to buy a paper?"
Cameron turned around.
"I do," he said. "Is that today's edition?"
The boy nodded.
"It's hot off the press."
Cameron looked at the youth, who was no more than twelve, and smiled when he saw his flat cap, bow tie, and suspenders. He frowned when he saw a cigarette tucked behind his ear.
"Aren't you supposed to say, 'Extra! Extra! Read all about it'?"
"No," the boy said matter-of-factly. "We don't do that anymore."
Cameron laughed.
"How much is the paper?"
"Three cents."
Cameron lowered his luggage, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a quarter.
"Here's twenty-five," Cameron said. He handed the boy the coin in exchange for a paper. "Go buy yourself a Popsicle."
"A what?"
"Get something nice," Cameron said.
The boy beamed.
"Thanks, mister!"
Cameron shook his head and chuckled as the boy pursued another sale. He slipped the paper in his jacket pocket, retrieved his bags, and continued down Main Street toward Eighth Street and a three-star hotel two train passengers had recommended.
He saw something of interest on every block. Between Third and Fourth streets, he found a tailor's shop, a millinery, and a grocery selling hamburger for ten cents a pound. Between Fourth and Fifth streets, he saw a creamery, a mercantile, and a music store peddling crystal radio sets and the latest in wireless telegraphy. On the next block, he passed a Turkish bath, a cigar shop, and a theater showing The Monster . Lon Chaney starred in the black-and-white flick.
Cameron slowed his pace as he crossed Sixth Street and entered a part of town he had never visited but nonetheless knew well. Candice Bell had written frequently and extensively about the businesses on the block, including a drugstore, a law firm, and her place of employment.
Cameron stopped first at Heller's Drug. Owned and operated by a man named Leonard Heller, it was the largest drugstore in Evansville and, according to
Cameron picked up his step as he crossed Division, Vine, and Sycamore – streets with generic names – and maintained that clip until he reached the intersection with Main Street. Though he had no schedule to keep, he was eager to explore a district he had mapped out in his mind. Everything he needed to see in this town lay in the next eight blocks.
He turned northeast, away from the river, and started down Main. With each tentative step, he moved closer to a scene that looked like the set of a silent movie. Gentlemen in pinstriped suits and straw hats escorted ladies in coats and frocks into and out of shops. Men honked at pedestrians, bicyclists, and other motorists as they drove roadsters and coupes through chaotic intersections. People unwilling to travel the busy street on foot jumped onto trolleys or piled into cabs. If Evansville wasn't Los Angeles or Chicago, it wasn't Mayberry either.
Cameron glanced at a watch he had purchased in Denver, noted the time of one thirty, and crossed Second Street. He considered stopping at a café for a bite to eat but decided instead to keep moving. He wanted to see Evansville's commercial heart while it was beating in the middle of the busiest day of the week.
It wasn't long before he saw something worth seeing. Sandwiched between a cigar shop and a bank was a business Cameron knew well – or at least knew well through the product it had produced since 1850. The Evansville Record was the city's oldest newspaper. A fierce rival of the Evansville Post , it had aggressively reported Candice Bell's murder and Tom Parker's trial, using the Post's misfortune to sell papers and gain leverage in a competitive marketplace.
Cameron peeked in the paper's front window. He saw a receptionist chew on her nails and a man, probably a reporter, hang a jacket on a rack and scurry into the newsroom. He considered stepping inside to buy a copy of the paper when he heard a boy call out to him.
"Hey, mister, do you want to buy a paper?"
Cameron turned around.
"I do," he said. "Is that today's edition?"
The boy nodded.
"It's hot off the press."
Cameron looked at the youth, who was no more than twelve, and smiled when he saw his flat cap, bow tie, and suspenders. He frowned when he saw a cigarette tucked behind his ear.
"Aren't you supposed to say, 'Extra! Extra! Read all about it'?"
"No," the boy said matter-of-factly. "We don't do that anymore."
Cameron laughed.
"How much is the paper?"
"Three cents."
Cameron lowered his luggage, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a quarter.
"Here's twenty-five," Cameron said. He handed the boy the coin in exchange for a paper. "Go buy yourself a Popsicle."
"A what?"
"Get something nice," Cameron said.
The boy beamed.
"Thanks, mister!"
Cameron shook his head and chuckled as the boy pursued another sale. He slipped the paper in his jacket pocket, retrieved his bags, and continued down Main Street toward Eighth Street and a three-star hotel two train passengers had recommended.
He saw something of interest on every block. Between Third and Fourth streets, he found a tailor's shop, a millinery, and a grocery selling hamburger for ten cents a pound. Between Fourth and Fifth streets, he saw a creamery, a mercantile, and a music store peddling crystal radio sets and the latest in wireless telegraphy. On the next block, he passed a Turkish bath, a cigar shop, and a theater showing The Monster . Lon Chaney starred in the black-and-white flick.
Cameron slowed his pace as he crossed Sixth Street and entered a part of town he had never visited but nonetheless knew well. Candice Bell had written frequently and extensively about the businesses on the block, including a drugstore, a law firm, and her place of employment.
Cameron stopped first at Heller's Drug. Owned and operated by a man named Leonard Heller, it was the largest drugstore in Evansville and, according to
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