The Bootleggers Read Free

here."
    McKeever left us. Soon, heavy footsteps came tramping up the stairs. The three
suspects entered first, followed by McKeever. I slipped quietly to the back of the room, trying to
look as unpoliceman-like as I could.
    Christianson, the disbarred lawyer, was the first to speak. He was a thin man, who
wore his light brown hair combed back and always seemed to be smiling. He had the air of a
successful businessman, with a buoyant confidence that, I had to concede, might have attracted
the attentions of my client's daughter.
    "Sergeant, let me assure you of my fullest cooperation and assistance in—"
    Stone wasn't interested in anyone's assurances. "Which one of you planted that
bomb?"
    The ex-lawyer bristled like an irate peacock. "I am shocked by the implications of
that question."
    "Tough. What were you doing when the bomb went off?"
    "I've already told the officers everything—"
    Stone slapped the desk with an open palm. "You can answer my questions here or
downtown at the Justice Center."
    Christianson kept his composure. "I was here, in this room, preparing some
paperwork."
    "Paperwork for The Bootleggers? On New Year's Eve?"
    "No. I'm a licensed bailbondsman. Tomorrow is New Year's Day." With a greedy
gleam in his eyes, he added, "One of my busiest days of the year. The people picked up for DUIs
are eager to bond out."
    Stone muttered skeptically, "And you were up here when the bomb went off?"
    "I was. When I heard the explosion, of course, I ran downstairs. I didn't want to get
trapped up here in case there was a fire. I can't think of a worse way to go than getting burned
alive."
    Stone took time to scrutinize Second-Story Meeker, a tough-looking specimen who
vaguely resembled a young Clint Eastwood. "What about you?"
    "I was playing pool in the Back Room," he said. "First thing I noticed was when I
heard the boom."
    "Did you know the busboy who was killed?" I noticed that Stone wasn't mentioning
anything about narcotics. Evidently, he was harboring hopes of continuing the undercover drug
operation into the new year.
    Meeker said, "Rudy? Sure. Everybody knew Rudy." Beads of sweat were
accumulating on his forehead and his hands were beginning to tremble.
    Stone appeared not to notice. He asked, "What did you know about him?"
    "Nothing much. Nobody had it in for him, or anything like that. At least, nobody I
know of."
    "Yeah? Well, somebody obviously did." He turned to Lightning Grant, who was
sitting in the chair I had vacated. The fighter weighed around hundred and sixty pounds, and he
was obviously in good shape. He wore his hair short, and his most prominent facial feature was a
nose that bore the marks of having been broken repeatedly.
    "What were you doing when the bomb went off?" Stone said.
    Grant spoke in a slow and precise voice. "I was listening to my ex-wife rag me about
being behind on her alimony. Like I got nothing better to worry about!"
    "What did you do when the bomb went off?"
    "Are you kidding? I made for the door, like everyone else. I'm no hero, and I don't
pretend to be one. But before I could get out, I heard someone holler that the fire was out and to
stay put. So I stayed put. After a while, a couple of cops said they wanted to search me. They
didn't find anything."
    "I was searched too," Christianson protested. "And I am considering instituting legal
action."
    Stone shrugged, unimpressed. "You wouldn't be the first."
    "Nor the last, I suppose," Christianson agreed in a moderate tone, obviously
disappointed that his threat had gone nowhere. "What were your men looking for?"
    Stone gestured toward the heavily reinforced safe in the corner and answered the
question with one of his own. "What's in there?"
    "Probably the family jewels," Grant wisecracked.
    Stone glared at the pugilist. "If this was Chicago or Detroit, I'd—"
    Grant shook his head back and forth, like an angry bull. "Yeah? Well, it isn't, and I've
taken on guys a lot bigger than you." He eyed Stone. "And I kicked their