Al Capone Does My Shirts Read Online Free PDF

Care to join me?”
    “No, sir. I mean yes, sir, I want to join you, but no, sir, I don’t like tea.”
    The warden nods. His eyes look me up and down. After a long minute, he gives up command of the entrance and motions me in. “My library is upstairs. The door’s open. You go on ahead.”
    I take an uncertain step forward and peek in at the living room. The couches and chairs look perfect, like nobody’s ever sat in them. It smells like ammonia and there’s opera music playing somewhere. This is not the kind of house where you can burp freely and run around in your bare feet.
    The warden’s library is a big dark room with heavy red drapes drawn closed and floor-to-ceiling books—the kind of official volumes with thick indexes Natalie likes.
    The warden comes in after me and closes the door. He sets his teacup on the desk, settles into a huge winged desk chair and begins to work.
    “Sit down, Mr. Flanagan,” he says without looking up from his ledger. He sounds annoyed, like I’ve flunked his first test.
    I sit down, only my aim is a little off and I clonk myself on the wooden arm of the chair. “Ouch. I mean ouch, sir,” I say.
    His face gets red. His sharp eyes seem to poke into me. He leans back in his chair and opens his mouth to say something, but just as he does, someone knocks on the solid oak door. “Yes?” the warden calls. The latch slides open and there is Piper. Her hair is curled. Her dress is starched. She’s wearing white short socks and shiny white shoes.
    “Piper, did you want to sit in?” the warden asks, his big face shining.
    “Yes, sir.” She smiles sweetly.
    “We’d be delighted. Wouldn’t we, Mr. Flanagan?” the warden asks.
    “Yes . . . sir.” My throat closes around the words.
    The warden doesn’t seem to notice, beaming as he is at her. “Piper, you feel free to chime in, now.”
    “Yes, sir.” Piper smiles. She doesn’t look at me.
    “When convicts first arrive on Alcatraz, I speak with them personally. Let them know what I expect. I don’t usually talk to new civilians, but Piper felt I should make an exception in your case,” the warden says.
    Oh, swell. I’m getting the convicted-felon treatment.
    I try to look only at the warden. Try not to notice Piper. But this seems impossible.
    “Yes, sir,” I say.
    “I don’t know what you did in Santa Monica, Mr. Flanagan, but children on Alcatraz follow the rules. Exactly. Precisely. Without exception. Isn’t that right, Piper?”
    “Yes, sir,” she says.
    “We’re a small town here. A small town with a big jail. The track record of the convicts we have includes seventy-nine successful escapes, nineteen unsuccessful escapes and twenty-four escapes that were planned but not carried out.That’s before these men came to Alcatraz, of course. We’ve made certain there will be no escapes here, but I don’t fool myself. These convicts are the very best at what they do. They have twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to figure out how to get out of here. These are men who have been tried and convicted of the most heinous crimes imaginable—terrible men with nothing but time on their hands.”
    He waits for this information to sink in.
    All I can think about is how stupid this is. If the men are that dangerous, why have women and children living on the island? I know my father says that in the event of a break the warden wants the guard corps within walking distance of the cell house. And I know that the Alcatraz apartments are cheap compared to the cost of apartments in San Francisco. Still, it seems like an incredibly stupid idea to me.
    “Yes, sir,” I say.
    “I have a great deal of respect for your father, and since you’re Cam’s boy, I bet you have a lot to offer. I’m looking forward to getting to know you. But before that can happen, we have to make sure we understand each other.”
    “Yes, sir,” I say.
    “We have rules here. Laws you must obey or you could endanger yourself and everyone else