Read Online Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 01 - The Legitimate Way by Rohn Federbush - Free Book Online
Authors: Rohn Federbush
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Sally said. “You don’t believe that, you’re just lonesome. Have Harvey drive you down to Toledo. Mrs. Savage will love you as much as Penny does.”
“I thought of that,” Robert said, his voice still in the cellar. “Andrew says I cannot leave the state.”
“Should I come home and pay for a detective to run around down here?” Sally offered.
Playing the detective wasn’t much fun really. Maybe if she had found Mary Jo wandering around Wal-Mart, Sally could have been more enthusiastic about her part of the quest for clearing Robert’s name. Money could solve this one. Sally could be with Robert and pay for someone else, someone not really interested, maybe not motivated enough. Sally did not mention the quandary she faced.
Andrew took the phone from Robert. “Sally, I understand you want to be here with Robert, but check-out Vero Beach before you return.”
They said goodbyes. Sally grabbed an ice cream cone from a vendor and headed back to the police department.
“No address,” Steve, the blond desk-sergeant said.
“We found her car in Arizona,” the fat lady offered.
“No address.” Sally repeated. Arizona was a fairly sizable state.
“ Phoenix,” Steve said. “Her car is at the Coldwater Courtyard Motel.”
“Thank you,” Sally said. She didn’t care if they saw how disappointed she was.
Sally slumped out of the cold, tiled, low-slung building. She hated Florida; but before she called down floods and tsunamis, Sally thought she should swing by her sister’s and then head for a plane out of West Palm Beach.
Now Madelyn was miffed that Sally wasn’t staying. “I made the bed for you.”
“Sorry,” Sally said. “I can’t find out where Mary Jo Cardonè is, if I stay down here. The police told me she’s already in Arizona.”
“When did you see the police?” Madelyn asked.
“This morning,” Sally said. “I didn’t want to involve your name in the mess.”
“How do you find people who get accused of murder to fill your life?” she asked.
“Luck,” Sally said. “I’m so lucky, felons fall from fifty trees at the same time.”
“Stop joking,” Madelyn said. “How did you meet Mr. Koelz? I remember how you met Danny Bianco.”
“Before Danny died, I collected what I thought were rare books, and I wrote Robert to ask what the price was for a book describing old bicycles.”
“He’s an antique dealer?”
“No,” Sally said. She didn’t want to let Madelyn believe Robert had money or might need money, that would really lengthen the lecture. “Mostly he collects used books, but sometimes he gets lucky.”
“Is he married?”
“He’s a eunuch,” Sally informed her eldest sister, waiting for the fun to begin.
“How did you find that out?”
“He told me that’s why his first wife divorced him,” Sally lied.
Actually his wife divorced Robert for non-support. He never possessed more than a penny or two at any given time. Judge Joe Wilcox owned the building Robert’s shop was in, all the books were on consignment. Ed Thatch and Harvey kept Robert apprised of estate sales and divorce liquidations to keep the Bibliopole fully stocked with first editions and rare books, all on consignment to their owners. Henry Schaefer took care of Robert’s clothes and Mrs. Clankton kept Robert housed and fed. The rest of Robert’s customers tried to keep the man entertained and solvent.
“He’s a remarkable man,” Sally added. “Self-educated, opinionated, a card-carrying communist at one point. He claims to have fought in the Abraham Lincoln brigade in the Spanish Civil War, right before the Second World War.”
“You don’t believe him,” Madelyn said. Madelyn could always read Sally from when she lied as a child about dusting the rungs of the dining room chairs. Madelyn was psychic, at the time; but maybe the clinging dust was evidence enough.
“I’ve read too much Hemmingway not to find too close of a connection to Robert’s stories,” Sally
“I thought of that,” Robert said, his voice still in the cellar. “Andrew says I cannot leave the state.”
“Should I come home and pay for a detective to run around down here?” Sally offered.
Playing the detective wasn’t much fun really. Maybe if she had found Mary Jo wandering around Wal-Mart, Sally could have been more enthusiastic about her part of the quest for clearing Robert’s name. Money could solve this one. Sally could be with Robert and pay for someone else, someone not really interested, maybe not motivated enough. Sally did not mention the quandary she faced.
Andrew took the phone from Robert. “Sally, I understand you want to be here with Robert, but check-out Vero Beach before you return.”
They said goodbyes. Sally grabbed an ice cream cone from a vendor and headed back to the police department.
“No address,” Steve, the blond desk-sergeant said.
“We found her car in Arizona,” the fat lady offered.
“No address.” Sally repeated. Arizona was a fairly sizable state.
“ Phoenix,” Steve said. “Her car is at the Coldwater Courtyard Motel.”
“Thank you,” Sally said. She didn’t care if they saw how disappointed she was.
Sally slumped out of the cold, tiled, low-slung building. She hated Florida; but before she called down floods and tsunamis, Sally thought she should swing by her sister’s and then head for a plane out of West Palm Beach.
Now Madelyn was miffed that Sally wasn’t staying. “I made the bed for you.”
“Sorry,” Sally said. “I can’t find out where Mary Jo Cardonè is, if I stay down here. The police told me she’s already in Arizona.”
“When did you see the police?” Madelyn asked.
“This morning,” Sally said. “I didn’t want to involve your name in the mess.”
“How do you find people who get accused of murder to fill your life?” she asked.
“Luck,” Sally said. “I’m so lucky, felons fall from fifty trees at the same time.”
“Stop joking,” Madelyn said. “How did you meet Mr. Koelz? I remember how you met Danny Bianco.”
“Before Danny died, I collected what I thought were rare books, and I wrote Robert to ask what the price was for a book describing old bicycles.”
“He’s an antique dealer?”
“No,” Sally said. She didn’t want to let Madelyn believe Robert had money or might need money, that would really lengthen the lecture. “Mostly he collects used books, but sometimes he gets lucky.”
“Is he married?”
“He’s a eunuch,” Sally informed her eldest sister, waiting for the fun to begin.
“How did you find that out?”
“He told me that’s why his first wife divorced him,” Sally lied.
Actually his wife divorced Robert for non-support. He never possessed more than a penny or two at any given time. Judge Joe Wilcox owned the building Robert’s shop was in, all the books were on consignment. Ed Thatch and Harvey kept Robert apprised of estate sales and divorce liquidations to keep the Bibliopole fully stocked with first editions and rare books, all on consignment to their owners. Henry Schaefer took care of Robert’s clothes and Mrs. Clankton kept Robert housed and fed. The rest of Robert’s customers tried to keep the man entertained and solvent.
“He’s a remarkable man,” Sally added. “Self-educated, opinionated, a card-carrying communist at one point. He claims to have fought in the Abraham Lincoln brigade in the Spanish Civil War, right before the Second World War.”
“You don’t believe him,” Madelyn said. Madelyn could always read Sally from when she lied as a child about dusting the rungs of the dining room chairs. Madelyn was psychic, at the time; but maybe the clinging dust was evidence enough.
“I’ve read too much Hemmingway not to find too close of a connection to Robert’s stories,” Sally
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