He’d immediately headed to his room at the boardinghouse and wrote the letters. Jeremy was a top notch investigator, and they’d worked together for years. If anyone could get information that would put Louis Smith behind bars, it was Jeremy.
The letter to Jesse was more difficult to write. The questions he had about the stock market and investment firms were easy, but he could almost see the raised eyebrows when he got to the word divorce. Nevertheless, his uncle was the man who could help them with that part of the problem.
Hunter stopped and glanced at the sign hanging over 407 Tremont Street. Smith and Sanders, Investors. He pushed open the door and climbed the wooden stairs to the second level. It was an older building, needing some maintenance. The stairs creaked, and the carpet in the hallway leading to the offices was threadbare.
He opened the wooden door with the Smith and Sanders logo painted in black and gold ink on the glass. A young woman sat at a desk, her hair in the Gibson Girl style, her high necked blouse with no adornments except for a timepiece pinned to her chest.
If the building was in poor shape, Smith had spared no expense on his office. A thick carpet covered the floor, and striped green and rose silk wallpaper gave the area more of a parlor feel than a business office. All the furniture appeared to be brand new and imported.
“May I help you?” The secretary looked up from her Underwood typewriter, her spectacles resting low on her nose.
“Yes. I would like to speak with one of the partners about investing money. Mr. Smith, actually, if he is available. An acquaintance referred me to him.”
“Your name?”
He hesitated. “Hunter Henderson.” No point in using a fictitious name. Things were easier when you didn’t have to remember a lot of lies.
“I think Mr. Smith is in. If you will take a seat, I will check for you.”
Hunter grinned to himself, since the office was very small and there were only two other doors. Perhaps Mr. Smith would have to be awakened from his nap, or maybe he wanted to give the impression of a man busy with manipulating investments. He picked up a recent copy of Life magazine, and flipped through the pages.
The woman returned to her desk. “He will be right with you.”
After a few minutes, the office door opened and a man strode through. “Mr. Henderson?”
Hunter had twisted to place the magazine back on the table. With a smile, he turned back and stuck out his hand. “Yes.”
His heart immediately slammed into his ribs and his breath caught. When black dots danced in front of his eyes, he actually thought he would pass out.
For the first time in eighteen years he stared into the face of his father’s killer.
Chapter 10
Austin, Texas
Texas Ranger, Jeremy Steele blinked several times as he peered at the white envelope with the Galveston, Texas postmark. He slid his finger under the flap, then pulled the letter out. He yawned and wiped his nose on his sleeve, finding it hard to focus on the words. He pinched the bridge of his nose, but unable to concentrate, dropped the letter on the small rickety table covered with dirty dishes and grabbed his jacket. The druggist had promised him a new shipment of morphine would arrive this morning.
He had to get his hands on some before his brain exploded.
Jeremy barreled down the stairs, wincing as the daylight hit him square in the face when he yanked the door open. He pulled the collar of his jacket up to cover his ears and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. His palms sweated and he gripped his stomach as the cramps started.
The three-block trek seemed interminable. Not raising his eyes as he walked, he had a couple of close calls almost running into people. Idiots. They should be home or at work.
At last he reached his destination, stretching out a shaky hand to pull open the door to the pharmacy with McGirk’s Drug Emporium painted on it. He nodded to Lenny, the druggist, and headed toward the back of the store. Within minutes, the pharmacist shoved aside the curtain separating the pharmacy from the storage area and almost ran into a pacing Jeremy.
“You’re developing a problem here, Steele.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my problem, not yours. Just give me the drug.”
“I’ve been reading reports, and someday soon the government’s going to regulate this stuff.” He handed a needle to Jeremy. “You should try to get off it. It’s ruining your health.”
Jeremy snorted and fumbled as he tried to manipulate the needle. “Help me out here.”
Lenny shook his head, then took the implement from Jeremy’s hand and injected the drug. “You know just last year the American Medical Association said heroin was a good replacement for morphine. You should think about switching.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. What do I owe you?”
“How much you taking with you?”