Harry thought he must have been about the same age as Grandpa. Harry leaped up as a prison guard stood to one side and allowed a tall, elegant man with silver gray hair to enter. The massive iron door didn't swing open until twelve minutes past nine. Surely the worst punishment they could exact would be to deport him, and as he'd always intended to return to England and join the navy, it all fitted in with his original plan.Īt 8:55 a.m., Harry was sitting on the end of the bunk, impatient for Mr. Jelks the reason he'd exchanged his name with Tom Bradshaw, the matter would quickly be sorted out. With each step, he grew more confident that once he explained to Mr. Harry took one look at the food before beginning to pace up and down. Once he'd placed the tray on the little wooden table, he left without a word. Despite the early hour, Harry was wide awake.Ī warder strolled in carrying a tray of food that the Salvation Army wouldn't have considered offering a penniless hobo. The door opened long before the morning light could creep through the bars of the window and into the cell. He looked up at the ceiling and began to think about how he'd ended up in a police cell on the other side of the world on a murder charge. Harry collapsed on to a bunk that was attached to the wall and rested his head on a brick-hard pillow. Kolowski stepped out into the corridor without another word and slammed the door behind him. The cell door swung open, but not before the detective had exhaled another plume of smoke that made Harry cough. You told the immigration officer that you were Tom Bradshaw, and if it was good enough for him, it's going to be good enough for the judge.' 'So when Jelks turns up tomorrow morning,' Kolowski continued, ignoring Harry's interruption, 'you'd better come up with a more convincing story than we've arrested the wrong man. 'But-' began Harry, as Kolowski banged the palm of his hand on the cell door.

'You may not have heard of the sharpest lawyer in New York,' said the detective as he blew out another plume of smoke, 'but he has an appointment to see you at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, and Jelks don't leave his office unless his bill has been paid in advance.'

'If I was in the trouble you're in, kid, I'd consider having Sefton Jelks on my side to be about my only hope.' 'I don't have a lawyer,' protested Harry. 'Save it for your lawyer,' said the detective, exhaling deeply and filling the small cell with a cloud of smoke. I served on the same ship as Tom Bradshaw.' I'm Harry Clifton, an Englishman from Bristol. 'No,' said Harry, 'you don't understand, there's been a terrible mistake. 'Sure, and I'm Babe Ruth,' said Detective Kolowski as he lit a cigarette.

The sins of the father