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Letters from Al


Kathleen Pieper


Letters from Al

Smashwords Edition Copyright 2011 Lee Emory

All rights reserved.

Cover design and Layout

Copyright 20011 by Lee Emory

Photo of Aunt courtesy of Kathleen Pieper

All rights reserved.

Photo of Al Capone: Courtesy of Public domain stock

WhoooDoo Mysteries

a division of

Treble Heart Books

Sierra Vista AZ

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The characters and events in this ebook are fictional and any resemblance to persons, whether living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-936127-48-1


Table of Contents



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

About the Author



To my computer technician, my husband David, and to Heide Aken, my web mistress, and, of course, to my Great Aunt Sophia 1902 - 2004.


Chicago, 1925

The damp pavement reflected the slight figure of a lone young woman walking down Carroll Street. She hurried, glancing over her shoulder fearfully at the fast darkening sky.

"Late again, Edna's going to fire me for sure." She said to herself, looking for courage in the shadows that moved around her.

She passed darkened buildings on deserted streets, wishing she could see in as an occasional door would quickly open and close. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter accompanied by music slipping out from the illegal Chicago clubs known as Speakeasies always secretly fascinated the young woman.

She tried to get a glimpse in, only to be met with furtive glares from sinister eyes. The exciting stories she read in the newspapers of Chicago's reputation for murder and mayhem made for big headlines and dubious fame. It also made her heart beat faster at the hint of mystery and excitement going on.

For over a year she had hidden, living on her own. Her money soon ran out and she got a job as a waitress by day while she dreamed of studying art in Paris by night. It was a scandalous plan for the times, one her relatives did not approve of. It had been the turning point of her decision, to run away.

Madeline took a deep breath. The night air was crisp and cool. An excitement and eagerness filled her with anticipation at the thrill of being young and on her own. Finally free of that stuffy mansion on the hill, full to the brim of bossy, snobbish relatives always telling her what to do.

That was then. Madeline gave a little skip and continued down the street becoming aware of shadows darting in and out from the alley across the street from the diner. Quickly she shrank against the damp brick building. Ducking behind the trash bins with her heart pounding, she heard static whispers.

"He's in there, I tell you. Let's just get it done." The voice whined.

"No. I told you we got to do it right. We don't want no witnesses and we don't want no coppers. We can't be sure about some of them in this part of town." The second man was cool and collected. The first man cursed under his breath and looked around nervously.

"Damn. We're going to a lot of trouble to get rid of Capone. With that scar on his face, anyone could pick him out of a crowd and ice him."

"Quiet. There. There, that's him all right, at the back of the diner. We'll get him when he comes out. Let him eat his meal, his last meal. Now shut up and get across the street, we'll get him in a crossfire. Mr. Moran will like that." The laughter was pure evil. When they moved, Madeline realized they would see her.

There was no time to think. With dry lips, she managed to blow what she hoped sounded like a casual whistle and started walking down the street. There was more movement in the alley but she pretended not to notice. Passing near a large trash can, she kicked it over and knocked the lid to the ground where it rattled noisily.

"Ouch." She feigned a soft cry and bent over. The two men stepped out of the shadows but their menacing scowls turned into lusty grins when they saw a young pretty woman, her skirt high showing off a pair of shapely legs. A red mark she made with her fingernail only seconds before came across nicely as a scratch from the lid.

"Darn it, all. I'm just so clumsy, but you startled me." Giving a wide-eyed, slightly scared look, she smiled a pouty smile she learned from the cinema. Licking her lips reddened with lip rouge, she batted her eyelashes innocently at the two thugs, hoping it worked as well for her as it had for the heroine. They looked surprised but smiled back.

"I'm just on my way to work and I think I'm late." She lied and smiled sweetly at them although shaking like a leaf on the inside.

"Well, you shouldn't be out here all alone, pretty thing like you. Never know what's waiting for you in the dark. Best you get going."

"Thanks, mister." She let her skirt drop and looked coyly over her shoulder, giving a flirty wave.

They watched her cross the street and gave each other an uneasy glance, melting back into the shadows.

A scar. The man said he, Capone, had a scar on his face. Madeline reached the diner feeling as if she had a bulls-eye painted on her back. But no bullets whizzed by her. Now what? Taking her coat off and glancing out the large plate glass window, she

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