Dead Reckoning Page #2

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I'm all for love, son.

Come on, hero.

And that's an order.

Washington hasn't released a story.

What gives?

Washington hasn't released a story.

What gives?

Drake's the story. I'm not.

You see Johnny here... Johnny?

Sergeant Drake!

Johnny!

I didn't like that salute.

There was something final about it.

I got it alright why Johnny

had taken a powder.

He'd faked a birth certificate

to enlist. John Joseph Preston, eh?

The Yale pin said so.

All I needed was a telephone.

Sorry, gorgeous. I'd let you have it,

only it's long distance.

Yale University.

Hello, Yale?

Give me your top man there.

What college? Yale, of course.

Okay, so it's a university.

How would I know? I just own taxis.

Yeah, one of my men found a pin

with a name on it, class of 1940.

I want his address so I can

return it to him. Thanks, lovely.

General, if you won't authorize me

to go after him...

...l'm afraid I'll have to go anyway.

Yes, sir.

I have a good idea of where he is.

But we don't want

Intelligence in this.

I regret to say, sir, yes.

That's right, sir. I refuse.

The last address Yale had for Preston

was a town I'd never heard of.

Welcome to Gulf City, Mr. Murdock.

Murdock...

Yes, a room is reserved for you.

Nobody knew I was coming.

- Warren Murdock, and from St. Louis.

- I don't get it, but I'll take it.

It's our best. The gentleman

who telephoned insisted.

- Then it's for me, all right.

- Front, boy.

Geronimo, the paratroopers'jump call.

It was Johnny, all right.

We could read each other's minds.

He knew I'd want to help. He'd seen

me look at the back of his pin.

Will call later, the message said.

That was 10 hours ago.

How long is "later"?

What to do in a hot wind, smelling

of jasmine except wait and sweat...

... and prime the body to sweat more?

A phone directory might help.

I'd never heard of Johnny

speak of any relatives...

... but I was ready to try anything.

"Prendergast, Prescott, Prestwood."

Stalled again, like a jeep

on synthetic gas.

48 hours since he'd called

and no word.

I'd pitched the Cardinals

into the pennant...

... and set the Red Sox down

in the World Series.

Suddenly, Johnny's service record

came to me like a photograph.

He'd enlisted October 11, 1943.

Whatever jam he'd got in

must have been just before that.

It might have made the papers.

There it was, Father.

All over page one.

Only five weeks before Johnny enlisted

under the name of Drake.

The rest was what you'd expect.

Nationwide search. A murder indictment.

Search for Johnny goes limp.

Story dribbling off

until it fell out of the paper.

The newspaper gave me answers...

... but there were three things

I had to find out:

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