Whispers in the Wind Read Online Free PDF

nightmare. I don’t know what to do about having a funeral for my family, or how to have them buried.”
    Tears once again filled his red-rimmed eyes.
    Captain Bickford moved up close. “Dane, do you have someone you can stay with? You know, some relatives?”
    “No, sir. I have no relatives at all. My school friends all have brothers and sisters, so there would be no room for me in any of their homes, even if their parents wanted to take me in. For right now, I’ll just have to live at our apartment.”
    Slater nodded silently. “On the subject of a funeral and burial for your family, Dane, the coroner at the morgue will take care of it. I’ll take you to him as soon as I can. As chief of police, I want to talk to the coroner myself. We’ll take you home now.”
    “Captain,” said Bickford, “I’ll go get the wallet, purse, and book at the nurse’s station. Be right back.”
    Nurse Martha Simpson tried to comfort Dane while Bickford was gone. Dane hugged her and thanked her for caring.
    Bickford returned, and with the wallet, purse, and paper sack containing the book in his hand, he said, “All right, son, let’s take you to your apartment.”
    While the paddy wagon was moving along the streets, Dane felt like the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders. He took a deep breath and told himself that somehow he would make it alone, and a determination to do so filled his aching heart.
    Captain Slater interrupted Dane’s thoughts. “Son, when is the rent on the apartment due?”
    Dane looked up at him. “Papa paid the rent every Saturday for the following week. This is Tuesday, so the rent is paid through next Saturday.”
    “I’m concerned about where you’re going then.”
    Dane shrugged his shoulders. “Well, sir, I guess I’ll just have to take to the streets like so many orphans have to do.”
    “I hate that, Captain,” said Officer Bickford. “I wish there were more orphanages in this city.”
    “I do, too,” said Slater, “but there’s nothing either one of us can do about it.”
    “Yeah. I know.”
    When they arrived at 218 Thirty-third Street, Captain Slatersaid, “Dane, we’ve got to get back to headquarters. I’ll come back and take you to the morgue as soon as I can.”
    Dane moved past Officer Bickford and hopped down. “All right, Captain. I appreciate all the help you and Officer Bickford have been to me.”
    Bickford leaned down and handed him the purse, wallet, and paper bag. “See you later, son.”
    Dane tried to smile. “Yes, sir. See you later.”
    “Keep your chin up, Dane,” said Slater. “If you ever need help of the kind that takes a policeman to handle, don’t hesitate to come and see me.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “It’ll probably be day after tomorrow before I can take you to the morgue. See you then.”
    “Yes, sir. See you then.”
    Slater rubbed his chin. “In fact, tell you what—I’ll go by the morgue tomorrow and just tell the coroner to come to the apartment and let you know when the funeral will be. It’ll probably be three or four days from now. Going by myself will save time, since the morgue is only a block and a half from precinct headquarters. I won’t have to come all the way over here and pick you up.”
    “All right, Captain. That will be fine.”
    The wagon pulled away. Dane stood and watched until it turned the corner and disappeared, then headed for the front door of the apartment building.

Chapter Three
    U pon entering the apartment building, a heavy-hearted Dane Weston knocked on the door of the landlord’s apartment. When Mitchell Bendrick—who was in his midfifties—opened the door, he smiled. “Hello, Dane. I saw you go in the paddy wagon with Chief Slater and the other officer. Is everything all right?”
    “They told me they had talked to you. Didn’t they tell you what happened?”
    “No. Come in and tell me what has happened.”
    As Dane stepped in and Mitchell closed the door, Sylvia Bendrick appeared, curiosity