About the Author:
Nate Hendley was born in New Haven, Connecticut in 1966 but grew up in Waterloo, ON. From 1985 - 1989, he attended Trent University in Peterborough, ON, and graduated with an Honours BA in Cultural Studies. In 1991 he returned to school to study journalism at Conestoga College in Kitchener, ON. Shortly thereafter, he began freelancing. Since the early 1990s, Nate has written hundreds of news articles, features, profiles, investigative pieces, advertorials, corporate stories and public relations items. His writing credits include The National Post, The Globe and Mail, Marketing Magazine, eye weekly, The Centre for Addiction and Mental Health Journal, etc. He is particularly adept at writing about political, social and cultural issues, automotive, high-tech and business topics and health-related concerns. In addition to his work as a journalist, he is a published author, formerly with Altitude Publishing, and now with Five Rivers. Nate is the Ontario Regional Director of the Professional Writers Association of Canada. PWAC is a national organization that represents the interests of freelance writers. Nate can be found at https://crimestory.wordpress.com/
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
October 24, 1935 The Dutchman was dying. The bullet in his gut had caused massive internal injuries and sent his temperature soaring. Staring fixedly at the ceiling from his hospital bed, Arthur Flegenheimer - aka Dutch Schultz - cried and babbled. In his delirium, he began weaving a weird tapestry of unconnected phrases, names, and oaths. A police stenographer sat by the gangster's side, taking down every word. The authorities hoped Schultz might reveal Mob secrets in his final monologue. But Dutch proved as elusive in his dying hours as he had been in life. "No, no. There are only 10 of us and there are 10 million fighting somewhere in front of you, so get your onions up and we will throw up the truce flag," he raved. "Oh, please let me up. Please shift me. Police are here. Communistic ... strike ... baloney ... honestly, this is a habit I get; sometimes I give it and sometimes I don't. Oh, I am all in. That settles it. Are you sure? Please let me get in and eat. Let him harass himself to you and then bother you." None of it made any sense to the police. They kept listening, however, as Schultz rambled on, his mind journeying back and forth over the course of his brief, but spectacular, criminal life.
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