The Bootlegger (Isaac Bell 7)
Page 95
“They do in Detroit.”
Bell regarded him thoughtfully. “Is that a fact?”
The gunman stood up. “Here’s another fact: You can go to hell.”
Isaac Bell drew his Browning and aimed it at the gangster’s as yet unwounded hand. “You want another crippled paw? Sit down!”
Flummoxed, the gangster gripped the blood-soaked napkins, sat back down on the keg, and cradled his hand in his lap. “What is going on?” he protested. “Where are all you guys coming from?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on? What guys?”
“Always in Detroit we fight each other. Now we got outsiders, torpedoes shoving into our operations. Hijackers.”
“What hijackers? Boats on the river?”
“You take your life in your hands on the river.”
“Have you run into a big black boat? Machine gun? Armor plate?”
“No.”
“Have you ever run up against the Jewish Navy?”
“Once.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing I’d want to happen again.”
Bell said, “It sounds like they put you out of business.”
“I’m waiting for winter. Drive across the ice.”
“It’s summer. How are you making a living in the meantime?”
“Snatch racket.”
“Who are you kidnapping?”
“Guys that can’t go to the cops.”
Isaac Bell indicated familiarity with the kidnapping business by raising a pertinent objection. “Guys who can’t go to the cops can be a handful.”
“Sure can. You gotta be careful who you snatch. You wouldn’t want to kidnap a Jewish Navy guy. You want guys with dough from bookmaking, whisky hauling, and girls; you want payroll bandits, loan sharks, auto thieves—except if they’re Purples. Purples would chase you all the way to Mexico.”
If Marat Zolner intended to make a criminal alliance in Detroit, as he had with the Black Hand in New York, the leader of the rising Purple Gang would be high on his list. The difficulty would be identifying him. As Walt had noted, Detroit bosses were killed right and left by the warring gangs, and even the cops were never sure who was on top.
“Who’s the Purple’s boss?”
“You have a lot of questions, mister.”
“I have a lot of curiosity,” said Bell. “What’s his
name?”
“Forget it.”
“Would you like to go for a ride?”