The Bootleggers Read Free Page A

asses."
    "Open the safe," Stone growled.
    The disbarred lawyer spoke up. "Do you have a search warrant?"
    "Do you want to wait while I get one?" Stone asked. "A man was murdered here
tonight. We have probable cause to—"
    Grant turned to his partners. "Go ahead and open it. We've got nothing to hide." From
the careful, deliberate way he spoke, it was obvious he was telling them there was nothing
incriminating inside.
    Meeker nodded and visibly relaxed. He stooped down, using his body to shield his
hands as he whirled the dial, although it took his trembling fingers three tries to open the
safe.
    Stone kneeled in front of the safe and reached inside. All he found were half a dozen
file folders, including a fat manila file marked "IOUs."
    There was obviously no transmitter.
    And no drugs.
    And no two hundred thousand dollars.
    Meeker was reaching for the phone on the desk. At first, I thought he intended to hit
Stone with it, and I took an involuntary step forward. Instead, Meeker touch-toned a three digit
number.
    "Who is this?" he asked. "Margot? Oh, good. Bring me up a scotch and water. Make
it a double."
    Now I understood why Meeker looked so shaky.
    He needed a drink.
    "Jim Beam on the rocks for me," Christianson called out festively.
    Lightning Grant added, "I'll have a beer."
    Stone jumped to his feet. He grabbed for the phone, but the boxer lurched forward.
"It's not after hours and we aren't under age."
    "I believe he's correct, officer," Christianson opined. He added snidely, "Would you
care for anything?"
    Stone glowered at him. "No."
    Meeker suddenly noticed me, leaning nondescriptly against the back wall. "How
about you? Are you a cop?"
    I shook my head emphatically. "I'm a customer. Someone set off a bomb while I was
trying to score with one of the waitresses. I plan to complain to the management."
    He gave me a chummy smile. "Put it in the suggestion box."
    With a friendly nod, I said, "I'll do that. What kind of scotch are you drinking?"
    He regarded me for a moment. "What kind are you paying for?"
    I shrugged. "Whatever you serve the masses."
    Lightning Grant came over and cuffed me roughly on the shoulder. "Meeker, I like
this guy. I've seen him hanging around here. He's a regular. Give him a drink. On me. Scotch,
you say?"
    "And water."
    Meeker spoke into the telephone. "Another scotch and water."
    Stone asked no one in particular, "Who hired the busboy?"
    Parker Christianson spoke up. "I did."
    "When did you hire him?"
    The bailbondsman scratched his ear pensively. "I can't recall."
    "Give me your best guess."
    "A couple of months ago, I suppose. If you'll let me get into the desk, I might be able
to find his job application."
    Stone stepped aside and watched while Christianson thumbed through rows of file
folders in one of the bottom drawers. A knock sounded on the door and Margot glided into the
room, bearing a tray filled with drinks. Without needing to ask, she delivered the glasses to their
proper recipients. As she handed me mine, she wrinkled her brows quizzically, as though asking
what I was doing upstairs. I smiled disarmingly and handed her a ten dollar bill.
    She said, "Thanks, Sugar."
    Meeker had already gulped down his drink. "Bring me another one, honey."
    She glanced a question at the two other owners, and they nodded their approval.
Evidently, Meeker wasn't the man in charge of The Bootleggers. "I'll be right back with your
drink," she told him. She turned and headed toward the door.
    Something had occurred to me, and I urgently needed to get downstairs to check it
out. It was a long shot, but it just might pay off. I noted with relief that Christianson was still
searching through the desk, and Stone was standing with his back to me. Silently, I edged my
way toward the exit where Margot had just left. I was already half way out of the room when
Stone happened to glance up.
    "Larsen, where the hell are you—"
    I pretended not to hear him and pulled the door closed behind me.
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    Half an