Chapter 77: The Forceful Davey
A tiger that doesn’t show its fangs will be mistaken for a sick cat.
Bootlegging was illegal to begin with, and Davey had no way to protect his interests through legitimate means. For those daring to interfere, only a thunderous strike would make them understand fear.
Donal’s claim that Sheriff Hanley couldn’t help was just an excuse.
Under United States law, with state and county autonomy, Sheriff Hanley technically had the authority to deny Prohibition agents entry into Strawberry.
Of course, that would mean openly defying them—something small-town sheriffs rarely did.
Even so, the agents had clearly spoken with Hanley beforehand and received his consent before swaggering into Strawberry to sabotage Davey’s moonshine business.
So, Davey issued Sheriff Hanley an ultimatum.
The trip from Valentine to Strawberry took barely two or three hours.
Upon receiving Davey’s orders, Donal immediately set out with several of his men for the Strawberry sheriff’s office.
Inside, eight of Donal’s moonshiners were locked up.
When Donal entered, he spotted several Prohibition agents there as well.
“Hello, Mr. Donal. Perhaps we could talk in my office?”
The moment Donal arrived, someone alerted Sheriff Hanley, who greeted him as if nothing was wrong. The two men went straight into Hanley’s office.
“Mr. Donal, did you come with instructions from Mr. Callander?” Hanley asked first.
Donal replied bluntly, “That’s right, Sheriff. Mr. Callander wants you to release our men being held in the jail—immediately.”
Hanley hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if Donal had anything more to say. When he didn’t, Hanley asked,
“Mr. Donal, did Mr. Callander have nothing else to add?”
Donal said calmly, “No, Sheriff. That’s his entire message.”
Hanley’s smile faded. “Mr. Donal, you must understand—these are federal Prohibition agents. They don’t take orders from me.
Your men were arrested by them for bootlegging. They’re just borrowing the town jail. It won’t be long before they transfer the prisoners.
I don’t have the authority to release them.”
Donal fixed his eyes on Hanley. “So, Sheriff, are you saying you intend to defy Mr. Callander—and side with his enemies?”
Hanley shot to his feet, glaring at Donal. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Donal?”
Donal merely nodded. “If that’s how you see it, Sheriff… perhaps you’re not wrong.”
Hanley’s expression darkened, his thoughts churning.
A few nights earlier, he’d attended a dinner party—one that had left his pockets much heavier afterward.
That was how the Prohibition agents had been allowed into Strawberry in the first place.
Hanley knew Davey had made a fortune in town—far more than five hundred dollars—and he’d long wanted a bigger cut.
The arrival of the agents seemed like the perfect opportunity.
In his mind, Davey would surely pay to make the problem go away. All Hanley had to do was name a price.
A thousand dollars—that was what he wanted, enough to share with the agents afterward. Everything had been going according to plan… until Davey refused to play along.
Now Hanley had a decision to make: go against Davey, or keep doing business with him.
But soon, he thought of a compromise.
“Mr. Donal, Mr. Callander and I have always been good friends,” Hanley said smoothly.
“So you can head to the jail and take your men. It’ll bring me some trouble, sure—but friends should help each other, right?
As for those Prohibition agents… well, I don’t have the authority to tell them what to do.”
Clearly, Hanley didn’t want to burn bridges with Davey—partly because of the money, partly because of who Davey was.
After weighing his options, he decided to release the prisoners. The agents, however, would be Davey’s problem to deal with.
Only then did the frost in Donal’s expression ease slightly.
“Good. Then we’re still friends, Sheriff.”
He took the jail keys from Hanley and left the office.
Under the wary eyes of the deputies and agents, Donal strode straight to the back cells and freed all eight of his men.
The atmosphere inside the station grew tense, but neither the officers nor the agents said a word.
Donal then approached the man in the bowler hat—the one who seemed to be in charge—and said coldly,
“Mr. Callander asked me to pass on a message. You have three days. After that, he doesn’t want to see any of you in Strawberry.”
“I suggest you accept his generosity—rather than become his enemies.”
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