Chapter 76: Davey’s Counterattack
“Prohibition agents who won’t take a bribe but still try to haul you in? Sounds like someone’s pulling strings behind the scenes.”
Davey let out a cold snort as he took the cigar Donal had just lit for him.
As his moonshine business grew, he had already anticipated this sort of thing. The federal government wouldn’t send a team of agents over a few anonymous letters.
Besides, his main operations were limited to just two towns—Valentine and Strawberry.
If you thought about who stood to lose the most because of Davey’s growing moonshine trade, the answer was obvious.
His liquor’s unique sweetness, low price, and group-sale approach had nearly taken over the entire market centered around Valentine and Strawberry.
Even the rich preferred his moonshine to branded whiskey or brandy.
Sales of famous labels—whiskey, brandy, gin, Kentucky bourbon, and rum—had plummeted.
Of course, compared to those big distilleries, Davey was still a small player.
The owners of the major brands didn’t care about the poor western frontier. Their attention was fixed on competition in the civilized cities back east—and on the coming fight against Prohibition.
They didn’t have time to worry about Davey.
But branded liquor was sold through regional agents.
And the sales managers for those premium labels in the Valentine region had been having a miserable time lately.
Their stock wasn’t moving at all, completely pushed off the market by Davey’s moonshine.
West Elizabeth was slightly better off—Strawberry being a dry town meant branded spirits barely sold there anyway.
Davey had no plans to move into Blackwater for now.
New Hanover, though—that was different.
Starting from Valentine, his moonshine network was spreading steadily across central New Hanover. The salesmen hadn’t reached as far east as Annesburg or Van Horn yet, but his liquor was already showing up there.
It had been less than fifty days since Davey’s product first appeared, and it had already shown terrifying potential.
Those regional managers had joined forces long ago, looking for a way to take him down.
So why were they only acting now?
Because of who Davey was.
For these liquor salesmen, finding out his real identity hadn’t been difficult.
As one of the main figures behind the Blackwater heist and a core member of the Van der Linde Gang, the Callander brothers had made their name as ruthless outlaws there.
Plenty of Blackwater lawmen and Pinkertons had died at their hands.
These salesmen were just businessmen. They wouldn’t dare cross someone like Davey. If he decided to ignore the rules and have them shot, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
They had even considered paying a gang to take care of him, but the only nearby group was the O’Driscolls.
And since Arthur and the gang had already destroyed Colm’s base at Six Point Cabin, the remaining O’Driscoll men around Valentine now worked for Davey.
Other gangs were too far away, and none wanted to mess with the now-infamous Van der Linde Gang.
So, the sales managers could only watch helplessly as Davey’s moonshine kept devouring their market share.
Then came the anonymous letter from Strawberry—it gave them an opening.
Normally, reports about moonshine in Strawberry would go nowhere. But several managers pooled together a large sum to bribe a high-ranking prohibition agent, who in turn sent a group of federal agents to raid Strawberry and cripple Davey’s operations.
“Mr. Callander, if this isn’t really about the letter, then why did those agents go to Strawberry instead of Valentine?” Donal asked curiously.
“Strawberry’s got some moonshine trade, sure—but Valentine is our real base. They can’t be unaware of that.”
Davey gave a low, cold laugh. “Why didn’t they come here? Simple—they’re afraid. So they’re testing the waters in Strawberry first.”
“Of course, if we don’t act, Valentine will be next.”
Only then did Donal remember what kind of man his boss really was—a notorious outlaw with blood on his hands.
After spending so much time around Davey’s calm, polite manner, he’d almost forgotten.
“What should we do now, Mr. Callander?” he asked respectfully.
Davey drew on his cigar, exhaled a slow ring of smoke, and said evenly, “If they want to start something, let’s make sure they regret it.”
“Donal, send men to track down those premium-brand sales managers in New Hanover. Once you find them, tie them up and bring them to Valentine.”
“As for Strawberry—go see Sheriff Hanley. Tell him it’s my order: every man in that jail walks free, no matter how he makes it happen.”
“And those prohibition agents…” Davey smirked faintly. “Tell them I’m feeling generous. They’ve got three days. After that—they’d better be gone.”
Author's Note
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