i ask of you the truth - 19. the walls of jericho

by nick nelson

part nineteen of ?

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slim woke up. he had been dreaming, but he never remembered his dreams. he turned on the little lamp beside the bed in the motel room and looked at his watch, which he had left beside the lamp. it was only eleven thirty! he had hardly slept at all. he put the watch back down and reached for the lamp to turn it back off when there was a knock on the door. slim thought it sounded like a woman’s knock. probably the not so young young wife of the desk clerk again. slim was tempted to turn the light off and ignore but he realized she had probably seen the light - weak as it was - under the door. sure enough, there was the knock again, a little louder. “all right, i am coming,” slim called. he had fallen asleep on top of the bed, fully clothed except for his shoes, as he usually did if there was any chance he would have to get up and move quickly, he quickly slipped his shoes on and tied them and straightened and tightened his tie and got up and opened the door. it was the desk clerk’s wife. she had a mean little smirk on her face and she was holding something by her side. slim quickly saw that it was not a gun or a knife. it was a book. she offered it to slim. “the general wanted you to have this.” it was a gideon bible. slim hesitated. he decided it was no use to keep pretending he did not know anything about the general. “is he here now? why doesn’t he give me this himself?” “just take it, sweetheart. why does the general do anything?” slim took the bible from her hand. “there is a note inside,” she told him. “read it.” there was a small slip of paper inside the front cover. slim recognized the general’s enormous handwriting - or an imitation of it by someone who knew how he wrote. “my dear legrand,” it read, “please bring the bearer to our meeting tomorrow. signed - “o”. “you got that?” the wife asked. “yeah, i got it,” slim answered. always so complicated, he thought, but i should be used to it by now. “then i’ll see you in the morning. what time were you planning on leaving?” “about eight o’clock. how dies that sound? “eight o’clock it is, then. i will be out front. my name is thelma, by the way.” and she was gone, again. slim went back to the bed. he put the bible down beside the lamp and turned the lamp off and tried to get back to sleep again. then they came into the camp and lodged in the camp. and joshua rose early in the morning… jericho didn’t look like much, slim thought, as he rode up to it with joshua, jesse james, and stonewall jackson. just a crumby looking brick wall. he could see the tops of some houses behind the wall, but they did not look like much. the general was in his jeep behind them. goliath was driving it, and little david and the queen of sheba were in the back with a big picnic basket. the basket was tied with a big green bow. the sun came up over the walls of jericho. “what do we do now?” slim asked. he didn’t like being on a horse. he had never liked horses, which was one reason he had run away from his old pappy’s farm and taken up a life of skullduggery in the city. “just wait,” jesse james told him. “something will happen.” “something always does, “ stonewall jackson added. the sun kept climbing in the sky. there was a door in the wall and it opened. thelma came out, and the countess sophie de fitzgriffin. stonewall jackson tipped his big general’s hat to them. “morning, ladies.” “good morning yourself,” the countess answered. “what all is going on here?” “we would like to invite you on a picnic,” joshua told her. “what if we don’t want to go on no stinking picnic? “ thelma asked. 20. long black linousine

i ask of you the truth - 18. back in the u s a

by nick nelson

part eighteen of ?

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“your party is not answering, sir.” slim did not want to argue with the operator. he wanted his nickel back. “thank you, i will try later.” he hung the receiver up and his nickel dropped back down. the war was over. slim was out of the stockade, back in the u s a, and down on his luck. he had about a dollar’s worth of nickels and he was using them to try to track down some old friends and cellmates to see if they could help him out or at least give him a helpful steer. so far he had had twelve of his calls answered to the extent he could not get his nickel back but on only one of them had he actually got through to the person he was calling. that was rip johnson - why had he called that jerk? - and rip was no help at all and neither were any of the other people who had picked up - some of them wives or girl friends, most of them claiming they never heard of the party slim was calling. and he had not gotten through at all, and gotten his nickel back, nineteen times. the bus station was not that crowded, and the phones were not all being used, so slim could have kept going but he decided to quit for a while. he went outside. he looked up and down the street and saw twenty places where he could get a cup of coffee. at least in every one of them the coffee would taste great compared to the coffee in the stockade and on the troop ship that brought him back to the states. he had forty cents left. should he get a cup of coffee and then panhandle? or should he panhandle the price of a cup of coffee first? since being picked up in paris eighteen months ago and sent to the stockade he had not had to make any decisions like this. he saw a man sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper. a big man, and he filled the bench up from side to side. the newspaper he was reading completely covered his face and upper body, but slim saw that he had a new shine on his shoes. slim decided to ask the man for a nickel, maybe even for a dime. he approached the man, and as he did, the man lowered the newspaper and looked directly at slim. it was the general. in civilian clothes, and looking like he had put on a few pounds since slim saw him last. “hello there,” the general said, as if he had seen slim a week ago. “it’s a small world,” was the best slim could come up with. “yes, and i do my part to make it smaller all the time,” the general replied. “i like that suit,” slim said. “a little flashy, but on you it looks good.” “thank you. you are looking well yourself,’ the general replied. “i could use a square meal.” the general laughed. “always right to the point. i am happy to see you haven’t changed.” “you’re not sore, are you?” “sore about what? we won the war, didn’t we?” “that’s right, we did. why don’t we celebrate with some ham and eggs?” “why not?” the general started to fold up his newspaper. “any place in particular you had in mind?” “one place is as good as another.” the general got to his feet. “isn’t it, though? i had a decent cup of coffee in that place over there.” he waved his paper at a place directly across from the bus station that seemed to be marked simply “cafe.” “you weren’t following me, were you?” slim asked as he fell in beside the general. “of course i was following you. what else would i be doing here? i have a job for you.” “just like old times.” “what’s wrong with old times?” slim did not bother to answer. they waited for a break in the traffic, so that they could cross the street. 19. the walls of jericho

i ask of you the truth - 17. gaboriau

by nick nelson

part seventeen of ?

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the sky was beginning to lighten when slim and the countess started to walk over to the chateau the general had abandoned. the countess had found slim some raggedy old clothes and he changed out of his fatigues into them, only keeping his army boots. slim thought they were wasting their time but was humoring the countess. “who lived here before?” slim asked the countess, just to be saying something. “nasty people,” the countess told him. “collaborators.” “not heroes of the resistance like you, huh?” the countess laughed. “is that part of your secret mission, monsieur slim, to decide who was a collaborator and who was a hero or heroine of the resistance?” “um - i guess not.” “i did not think so.” “well, here we are,” slim said, happy to change the subject, as they reached the driveway of the chateau. the countess pointed to the jeep that had been left behind. “could we take that?” “it might not be a good idea,” slim said. “it would be stealing army property. and besides, i can guarantee there is no gas in it - you would have to find your own.” the countess ran her hand over the side of the jeep. “look how polished it is! just like everything in america, no?” “everything that belongs to a general, maybe. or a millionaire.” “you are sure there is no gas in it?” “you can stick your nose in the gas tank if you want. but i will bet you everything you own it is empty.” “oh? and why is that?” the countess persisted. “because war is gasoline, “ slim replied. “the whole war is about gasoline. gasoline is civilization.” the countess laughed. “you do not say so? i would not have taken you for a philosopher of history, monsieur slim.” “i’m just repeating some of the general’s favorite sayings. “ “ah.” “he had a lot of favorite sayings. and he liked to say them over and over.” slim pointed to the house. “do you want to go inside?” the countess shrugged. “of course.” and with a last glance at the polished jeep, she followed slim through the front door. in the morning light the inside of the chateau looked kind of crummy. other than that, it looked the same as slim remembered it from the night before. except… there was something on the mantel of the fireplace. slim went over for a closer look. it was the frammis! slim almost blacked out! but he pulled himself together, when he heard the countess ask, “what is that thing?” “i don’t know,” slim told her in as normal a voice as he could. the countess made a move toward the fireplace for a closer look, but just as she did, they heard a car pull into the driveway outside! “who can that be?” the countess asked. was this some kind of crazy double cross, slim wondered. “i don’t know,” he told the countess, “but if you want to talk to them, you can.” there was a hallway to the right of the fireplace that slim remembered led to the kitchen and slim ducked into it. he heard the front door open. whoever it was had entered without knocking or ringing a doorbell. slim kept inside the hallway, but in a mirror in the drawing room he saw two men enter - one in plain clothes, in a heavy belted overcoat and wide hat, and a uniformed policeman. “who might you be?” the countess asked the man in plain clothes. “i will ask the questions, madame. are you the comtesse sophie de fitzgriffin, resident of the house across the road?” “i am she.” “i am inspector gaboriau, of the criminal investigation department, and i arrest you for the murder of that most noble of patriots, the duc de lautreamont.” “nonsense! the duke and i were the greatest of friends. i would never have harmed a hair on his noble head.” “be that as it may, madame, i must ask you to company me to paris.” paris! slim reentered the room and walked up to inspector gaboriau. “say, pal, i am an american on a secret mission. think you could help me out with a lift to paris? the inspector considered for a few seconds. “i do not see why not.” the two policemen led the countess outside and slim followed them. paris! and they had not even noticed the frammis on top of the fireplace! 18. back in the u s a

i ask of you the truth - 16. left behind

by nick nelson

part sixteen of ?

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“see for yourself.” slim took the binoculars from the countess and trained them on the chateau the general had taken over just a few hours ago. sure enough, there was movement. a figure that must have been either goldbrick or the indian - probably the indian - came out of the building carrying something, which he tossed into the back of the five ton. then he disappeared from sight, either back into the building, or around the truck and into the cab. “are they leaving?” the countess asked slim. “i don’t know what they are doing.” “well, is it likely that they would be leaving? they just got here, did they not?” “you never know with the general.” slim shrugged. “maybe he is he just making sure they can leave in a hurry if they have to.” suddenly a thought hit him like a bowling ball to the back of his head. “i know!” he exclaomed. “that’s the frammis! that the indian just put in the truck! he sent us on a wild goose chase and now he is pulling out with the frammis.” “the frammis?” the countess asked. “what is this - frammis?” * pete shifted in his seat. his eyes had still not adjusted to the darkness and he could not see anything in the darkness except the screen, and he did not know for sure if anybody was sitting right beside him, although he did not think anybody was. the movie did not make a lot of sense. pete wondered if the reels had been mixed up. it would not be the first time he went to a movie and that happened. pete never remembered actors’ names unless they were really famous but he recognized them from other movies. he remembered the guy playing slim from those movies with edward g robinson where he - the guy, not edward g robinson - wore a straw hat. and on top of that he was in pete’s favorite movie of all time, that he could not remember the name of, with that blonde. and the actress playing the countess - she was in a movie with humphrey bogart where bogart was this rich guy living up on a hill and he was going to murder her but he didn’t in the end. she was all right, but pete would have preferred the blonde from his favorite movie of all time. maybe she would still be in this movie, if they found the reel she was in. * slim and the countess watched as the indian turned the truck around facing the road. then the general and goldbrick came out and got into one of the jeeps and the truck pulled out and the jeep followed it. “what was that all about?” the countess asked slim. “you tell me.” “is there anybody left over there?” “not that i know. somebody buried in the basement, maybe. or locked in the attic.” “maybe we should take a look,” the countess said slowly. “maybe they left something behind.” slim thought about it. “sure. but let’s wait a little while. they one of the jeeps behind. they might come bsck for it..” 17. gaboriau

i ask of you the truth - 15. the farmer's daughter

by nick nelson

part fifteen of ?

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“i’m on what you might call my own secret mission.” “of course. i understand.” the countess did not ask slim any more questions about himself. she lay back on one of the couches and started working her way through a pack of the luckies from the carton slim had tossed her. she did not turn the light up, or make a move toward the fireplace. slim felt cold. he was hungry too, and for something besides the c-rations in his sack. what is the point, he wondered, of going awol, and hooking up with a real live countess in more a less a real live castle, if you were going to be cold and hungry? “you got anything to eat in this place?” he finally asked her. “of course.” slim waited her to go on, but she did not. what was she, some kind of farmer from farmersville that would only answer the exact question you asked them. like if you asked, is there a train to chicago, they would just say “yes,” and you would have to say, “well, when is the train to chicago?” “the next train to chicago from where?,” the countess asked. “ paris? moscow? istanbul?” did i say that aloud? slim wondered. my brain must be going. or maybe she’s a mind reader. maybe countesses are mind readers, like gypsies. but before he could think of anything to say, the countess asked him. “are you from chicago?” “um - i just passed through it a few times - on fast freights.“ “i always wanted to go to chicago - and meet al capone.” “everybody wants to meet al capone.” “is it true that he takes his tommy gun with him everywhere he goes? even to most exclusive restaurants?” “al wouldn’t go anywhere without his tommy gun.” the countess blew a couple of smoke rings and continued. “i always wanted to meet all the famous americans… john dillinger… billy the kid… buffalo bill… sitting bull… annie oakley… shirley temple. have you met all of them?” “sure. they are all just folks. happy to pass the time of day with anyone who wants to pass the time of day with them.” “i am only a farmer’s daughter, but i always wanted to see the world. especially america - the new world, where anything can happen.” ”a farmer’s daughter! i thought you said you were a countess.” the countess turned and looked directly at slim. “i married the count. i was born a farmer’s daughter.” she sighed. “i was young once, and beautiful.” “i wasn’t too hideous myself,” slim answered. “but, say, if you’re a farmer’s daughter, couldn’t you rustle up some grub for a hungry man? isn’t that what farmer’s daughters do?” the countess laughed. “what, didn’t they feed you on that secret mission of yours?” “not as much as i would like.” “maybe in the morning, sir american, when the rooster crows and the world awakens to a bright new day, i will see what i can do for you.” the countess tossed her cigarette into the dark fireplace and stood up. “right now i want to see what our friends next door are doing.” she picked her little binoculars up off a table besude her and strode to the window. “probably nothing much,” slim told her. “sleeping, or getting ready to.” “no. i see some activity.” “you don’t say so.” slim got up and joined the countess at the window. she handed him the binoculars. “see for yourself.” 16. left behind

i ask of you the truth - 14. big trouble

by nick nelson

part fourteen of ?

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“mister o’rourke! you have to help me.” i have been down this road before, johnny thought. too many times. but he turned and looked into the fog, in the direction of the voice. a girl was standing in the shadows, and took a step towards johnny. at least she is not wearing a mink coat, johnny thought. she was wearing a plain blue cloth coat, and an old fashioned round hat with a little feather in it and she looked like she just got off the bus from nowheresville…. except that she did not have a suitcase with her. and she was young, maybe about eighteen, but johnny thought there was something familiar about her… “don’t you remember me, johnny… mister o’rourke…”. she was saying, looking up at johnny with eyes as blue as the skies over nebraska an hour before a tornado hits. “you seem to remember me, miss,” johnny replied. he looked around in the fog but did not see anyone or anything else. “i’m betsy ross! rose ross’s sister! from back in coldwater. .. do you remember me now?” rose ross… coldwater…. yeah, johnny remembered all right… what guy doesn’t remember the first girl that breaks his heart and throws it away like a broken beer bottle… any more than he forgets his first dog... “i’m all grown up now,” betsy was saying. “sort of… i guess…” “say! you are not mixed up with professor sturdivant . are you? or colonel mappington?” “who? who are they? no, johnny … i can call you, johnny, can’t i…” “sure, just like old times…”. johnny looked around again… still nothing he could see… but he could feel something… “it’s about rose,” betsy continued, “she’s in trouble… big trouble…” “right,” johnny amswered, “but let’s not stand here in the rain… i know someplace we can talk… let’s go.” “sure, johnny, whatever you say. i hope it’s not to far away.” “no, it’s just around the corner. it’s a nice place, where we can get a cup of coffee. real friendly… you’ll like it.“ * sid’s diner was almost always empty. johnny did not know how it stayed in business and never asked. it was empty when they entered. the gray haired woman who was always behind the counter was there at her post. her name was grace and that was all johnny knew about her, including whether or not she owned the place or just worked there. he never asked her questions about herself and she never asked him any about himself. “lousy night,” johnny said as he and betsy sat down at the far end of the counter. “looks that way,” grace answered. sid’s had lousy coffee but pretty good blueberry pie. “how’s the blueberry pie?” johnny asked. “fresh baked every day for fifteen years, same as always.” “give us each a slice, and coffee.” they waited until grace had brought them the coffee and pie. grace moved to the other end of the counter and johnny nodded to betsy. “all right, what is the story?” betsy took a swallow of the coffee and grimaced but did not say anything about it.. “rose is in trouble. big trouble.” “you already said that. any particular kind of trouble?” “she - she fell in with a bad crowd.” johnny barely kept from laughing. rose fall in with s bad crowd? the rose he remembered back in coldwater nebraska was the last person in the world to fall in with a bad crowd… 15. the farmer's daughter