Reach the Shining River Read Online Free PDF

there so big. Nothing for it but to stay close to the light, eyes on the right now. He looked hard at his target and threw. The music and the rhythms flowed around him, the rolling boogie-woogie and his mother’s sorrowful voice.
    Roll ’em. Make ’em jump. Throw hard and don’t look back, something might be gaining on you. Satch knew that. Satch knew how to stay ahead of the hoodoo man.
     

 
    6.
     
    Mickey showed. He stuck his head through the office door on Monday afternoon. Emmett was reviewing arrest reports.
    “Must be in the wrong place. Looking for Emmo Whelan.”
    On the tenth floor of the new county courthouse, the office looked north and west over the business district. Emmett laughed and Mickey shuffled in, sizing up the burnished oak, the soft leather, the plate-glass view.
    “Not bad for a kid from the north side,” Mickey said.
    “It’ll do.”
    “Guess you’re pretty high in the pecking order.”
    “Not so high.”
    Side by side, they surveyed the panorama, a boomtown density of redbrick businesses and granite public buildings: the Federal Reserve and US Courthouse, Police Headquarters and the Kansas City Club. Directly opposite, work was proceeding on the new City Hall, and on the streets below they could see the law school campus, where Emmett had sweated for five years, and the offices of the Kansas City Star . A depression going on? What depression?
    But Mickey’s gaze was beyond downtown.
    “Look at it.”
    “What?”
    “West Bottoms.”
    The old neighborhood. Beyond the boom. The packing houses and factories. The pinched streets.
    “Awful small from this high,” Emmett said.
    “Not much when you’re down there, either.”
    “Be fair, Mick. You couldn’t find a truer place.”
    Mickey turned from the window with a sneer. “Depends on your vantage, I guess.”
    “It’s home, isn’t it?”
    Mickey squinted, his dark blond hair sticking out above his ears like ripe wheat. “Last I heard you were living in Oakwood.”
    “Just making my way in the world, Mick.”
    Mickey patted his pockets. “No law against smoking in here, is there?”
    “Ashtray on the coffee table.”
    He lit up and circled the room, waving his cigarette at the paneled walls, the brass spittoon, the custom-built furniture.
    “I figured it was something in here, but little did I know.”
    “You get used to it quick enough.”
    “Is that right? I hear you got a hanging tree.”
    “Upstairs. Thirteenth and fourteenth floor are the county jail. The execution chamber’s up there.”
    “Trap door, I heard. Hit a button and, boom, the poor lad drops. Wouldn’t know what hit him.”
    “I haven’t seen it. Those floors have separate elevators.”
    “I’ll bet they do.”
    The light up here was sharp at this time of day, the room warm in spite of the building’s cooling system. Mickey had a manic edge. His skin was rough and mealy, his clothes unfresh. He favored his bum knee as he paced and had the look of a guy with little to do and more on his mind than he could handle.
    He returned full circle to the window and took a deep drag. “Trap door. Boom. See you later, pal.”
    Emmett sat behind his desk. He needed Mickey clear-eyed. With the chip off his shoulder. “Buddy. Sit down.”
    Mickey turned his head. The light behind him obscured his face. “ Buddy ? You gonna give me a pep talk? Show me how to win friends and influence people?”
    “No pep talks. I need a favor.”
    Slowly he backed away from the window and eased into a chair, pressing the padded arms with his palms and avoiding Emmett’s eyes. “Shoot,” he said.
    “You heard about this murder last week?”
    “There were two murders last week. In Kansas City there were two murders. Vagrant kicked to death outside the Roberts Building and a musician executed and dumped by the river.”
    “You keep in touch.”
    Mouth downturned, Mickey shook his head. “I read the papers like everybody else.”
    “I didn’t see anything in the papers