OnceWeWereBrothers - (EPUB全文下载)

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Once We Were Brothers
by
Ronald H. Balson
Berwick Court Publishing Company
Chicago, Illinois
Copyright © 2009 by Ronald H. Balson. All Rights Reserved
Printed in the United States of America
This is a work of fiction. The principal characters of the novel, both in Europe and America, are products of my imagination. Ben Solomon, Catherine Lockhart, Liam Taggart, Father Janofski, Otto Piatek and Elliot Rosenzweig are purely fictional and bear no relation to any person living or dead. Similarly, the law firms, attorneys and judges referred to herein are fictional, as is the St. Mary’s Ascension Church. The insurance companies, although they may have common names, are purely fictional. That being said, the major historical figures and the historical settings are intended to be accurately portrayed. I have endeavored to be true to the war’s chronology and the events which affected the fictional characters.
Cover design by Mitch McNeil
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009913403
ISBN: 978-0-615-34122-4
I. The Confrontation
Chapter One
Chicago, Illinois September 2004
Ben Solomon stood before his bathroom mirror fumbling with his bow tie. He was eighty-three years old and getting dressed for Judgment Day. Years had come and gone since he had last worn his tuxedo, but then, Judgment Day was a black tie affair.
He uttered a Polish phrase to the man in the mirror and reached into his pocket to re-examine his pricey ticket.
Lyric Opera of Chicago. Opening Night Gala, September 26, 2004.
La Forza Del Destino
.
Main Floor, Aisle 2, Row kk, Seat 103 –
a seat he did not intend to occupy. Truth be told, he didn’t care much for opera. The ticket had set him back five hundred dollars, a goodly sum for a pensioner.
He pulled back the cuff of his shirtsleeve to check the time on his watch, a silver-band Citizen given to him when he retired from the Chicago Park District eight years ago. 4:30 p.m. Still two hours until the doors would open. He walked into his living room.
The windows of his modest one-bedroom apartment faced east, toward Lake Michigan and the row of condominium towers that stretched north in a line from the Loop to Thorndale Avenue like a stand of Midwest corn. The late afternoon sun laid a track of shadows across Lake Shore Drive and onto the lush grass of the Waveland Golf Course, where he’d worked as a starter for almost fifty years. To his right, in the mirrored calm of Belmont Harbor, the luxury cruisers rested comfortably in their slips. He lingered. ............

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