“Well, the choices are limited to either one of the Johnsons or to someone in our organization.”
“Or it’s a lone wolf who’s selling cheaper and undercutting all of us.”
“In other words, someone not playing by the rules as set by you.”
“You’re damn right.”
Landry chuckled. “Should we try to unionize?”
“I’m thinking more of monopolizing.”
Chester raised his brows. “Hmm. An interesting prospect.”
“It would be good for everybody.”
“Especially you.”
“And you.”
Landry conceded that with another languid gesture and sly smile.
“Get me the identity of this Randy’s source.”
“I’m working on it.”
Chester’s smile remained in place, but his voice suddenly had a bite, and that didn’t sit well with Bernie. The bootlegger was a necessary evil, but Bernie never would allow him to get the upper hand. He feared that most of Landry’s posturing was just that: posturing. He wasn’t nearly as insouciant as he pretended to be.
“These things require finessing, Bernie,” he said, speaking smoothly again. “I can’t press Randy on it, or seem overeager, and he doesn’t want to reveal his source because he’s acting as his own middleman. I’m not his only customer. For every jar he sells, he jacks up the price and takes a cut for himself.”
“Everybody and his dog takes a cut.”
“If you don’t like the system, you should have invested in another enterprise.”
“As it is now, the system is taking money out of my pocket.”
The gold tooth flashed. “But by anyone’s standards, they’re still awfully deep pockets.”
Bernie grumbled in response, then said, “It takes only one hotshot like your pal Randy to put all of us in jeopardy. Advise him to keep his fat mouth shut.”
“I’ll put it more diplomatically, but consider the problem of Randy?
?s loquaciousness solved.” With that, he shot his cuffs and straightened his cuff link. “Anything happening toward finding that missing woman?”
“Nothing.”
“How’s the doctor getting on?”
“He isn’t. He’s holed up in his house. He hasn’t resumed seeing patients.” Bernie didn’t add that he wanted to throttle the man. Gabe was a veritable wreck. He needed to be brought up to snuff. Soon.
“What was his missus like?”
“You’re speaking in the past tense.”
Chester shrugged negligently.
Bernie said, “She had butter-colored curls, a round, rosy face, and big jugs. A fraulein. So anybody with an axe to grind against the Germans could have wished her harm. Including our sheriff. He lost a son to the war.”
“He’s cleared Hutton as a suspect.”