Read Online The Academy (Moving In Series Book 6) by Ron Ripley - Free Book Online
Authors: Ron Ripley
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chapel, made his way to the front and laid down on the first pew on the left-hand side. He made himself comfortable and tried not to think about how he had made it from his house to the school. Herman closed his eyes, yawned and relaxed as best he could. He was tired.
Within a few minutes, Herman was asleep, and he dreamed again of Nathaniel Weiss.
Chapter 21: The Academy’s Graduates
Brian put a bookmark at the end of the chapter on Gregory Weston before he closed the book and set it aside. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. After a few moments, he released his grip, stood up, and stretched. Brian walked down an aisle, turned around, and walked back. His knees popped, and his back ached.
Definitely feeling my age today, he thought. He scratched the back of his head and looked at the Academy’s book. This isn’t good.
For several hours, Brian had read the history of the Academy and gone over the section on Gregory, twice.
Once more, he reached out, picked up the book, opened it and read the last section again.
Despite his remarkable service in the war against German aggression, Gregory Weston could not return to peace. His previous life as a criminal was too alluring. Within a matter of months, Gregory was once more working as an enforcer for the Italian gangs seeking to take control of New London and Groton. He was known for his disturbing preference to use his hands as a quick method for ‘convincing’ people.
It happened several times that he was nearly apprehended by the police, but he proved far too skilled at close quarters fighting. It wasn’t until 1923 that Gregory Weston was stopped. He was not apprehended. The Groton, New London, Northfield, and Connecticut State Police had cordoned off an entire neighborhood in an attempt to capture him. Gregory Weston was killed in a gun battle with Naval Shore Police after he had slipped through the dragnet and fled to the submarine base in Groton.
After the confirmation of his death, the police discovered the house where Gregory Weston had been hiding. The house had been in Northfield, near the Academy where he had graduated from, and it had housed a gruesome collection; the police had found seventeen mason jars filled with human teeth. Disturbing evidence of not only the man’s brutality, but of his fascination with the grotesque.
Brian closed the book again.
Well, he thought, at least he’s not homicidal.
He sat down and tried to collect his thoughts.
I still need information on Nathaniel Weiss, Brian told himself. I also need to get the letter to a safe place.
Brian straightened up and said, “Safe.”
He grabbed the book, stood up, and hurried out of the library, not bothering to lock up. Long strides carried him across the quad and back to the Admin building. A cruiser was just leaving the parking lot. Frowning, Brian climbed the stairs and found Mitchell. His cousin stood in front of the display case, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his pants.
Mitchell nodded at Brian.
“Everything okay?” Brian asked. “I just saw a cruiser leave.”
Mitchell shook his head. “No. The janitor, Larry, someone attacked him in his office. He was badly beaten and transferred to the hospital.”
“Jesus,” Brian said softly. Then, a little louder, he said, “Do they know who?”
“The police?” Mitchell asked.
Brian nodded.
“No,” Mitchell replied, turning back to the display case. “They don’t.”
Brian hesitated before he asked, “Do you?”
“Yes,” Mitchell whispered.
“Who?”
“Greg Weston,” Mitchell said, sighing. He walked away and into his office. Brian followed him past the secretary’s desk and into the room where Marilyn had hung herself. Mitchell gestured for Brian to sit, and Brian did so. Mitchell paused and looked up at the light fixture above the desk before he sat down.
“What happened exactly, Mitchell?” Brian asked.
“Exactly? Well, that I don’t know. I found Larry
Within a few minutes, Herman was asleep, and he dreamed again of Nathaniel Weiss.
Chapter 21: The Academy’s Graduates
Brian put a bookmark at the end of the chapter on Gregory Weston before he closed the book and set it aside. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. After a few moments, he released his grip, stood up, and stretched. Brian walked down an aisle, turned around, and walked back. His knees popped, and his back ached.
Definitely feeling my age today, he thought. He scratched the back of his head and looked at the Academy’s book. This isn’t good.
For several hours, Brian had read the history of the Academy and gone over the section on Gregory, twice.
Once more, he reached out, picked up the book, opened it and read the last section again.
Despite his remarkable service in the war against German aggression, Gregory Weston could not return to peace. His previous life as a criminal was too alluring. Within a matter of months, Gregory was once more working as an enforcer for the Italian gangs seeking to take control of New London and Groton. He was known for his disturbing preference to use his hands as a quick method for ‘convincing’ people.
It happened several times that he was nearly apprehended by the police, but he proved far too skilled at close quarters fighting. It wasn’t until 1923 that Gregory Weston was stopped. He was not apprehended. The Groton, New London, Northfield, and Connecticut State Police had cordoned off an entire neighborhood in an attempt to capture him. Gregory Weston was killed in a gun battle with Naval Shore Police after he had slipped through the dragnet and fled to the submarine base in Groton.
After the confirmation of his death, the police discovered the house where Gregory Weston had been hiding. The house had been in Northfield, near the Academy where he had graduated from, and it had housed a gruesome collection; the police had found seventeen mason jars filled with human teeth. Disturbing evidence of not only the man’s brutality, but of his fascination with the grotesque.
Brian closed the book again.
Well, he thought, at least he’s not homicidal.
He sat down and tried to collect his thoughts.
I still need information on Nathaniel Weiss, Brian told himself. I also need to get the letter to a safe place.
Brian straightened up and said, “Safe.”
He grabbed the book, stood up, and hurried out of the library, not bothering to lock up. Long strides carried him across the quad and back to the Admin building. A cruiser was just leaving the parking lot. Frowning, Brian climbed the stairs and found Mitchell. His cousin stood in front of the display case, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his pants.
Mitchell nodded at Brian.
“Everything okay?” Brian asked. “I just saw a cruiser leave.”
Mitchell shook his head. “No. The janitor, Larry, someone attacked him in his office. He was badly beaten and transferred to the hospital.”
“Jesus,” Brian said softly. Then, a little louder, he said, “Do they know who?”
“The police?” Mitchell asked.
Brian nodded.
“No,” Mitchell replied, turning back to the display case. “They don’t.”
Brian hesitated before he asked, “Do you?”
“Yes,” Mitchell whispered.
“Who?”
“Greg Weston,” Mitchell said, sighing. He walked away and into his office. Brian followed him past the secretary’s desk and into the room where Marilyn had hung herself. Mitchell gestured for Brian to sit, and Brian did so. Mitchell paused and looked up at the light fixture above the desk before he sat down.
“What happened exactly, Mitchell?” Brian asked.
“Exactly? Well, that I don’t know. I found Larry
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