Rafferty found the place snuggled in an address that should have been for a boarding

  house. He inspected the street from his car. He saw one lookout on the street. The

  man leaned against a stoop, smoking a cigarette. A whistle hung around his neck.

  If the police arrived to raid the place, he blew the whistle and fled. Someone inside

  the gambling den would be alerted to usher people out the back way, or through some

  hidden exit, while the casino was converted back into an empty storage area.

  No one wanted a petty gambling charge on their record.

  Rafferty smiled. How did he get in without attracting attention? He should take out

  the lookout, and then see if there was a way inside the place. After that, he would

  have to play it by ear.

  He pulled his mask up to cover his face. The bottom was long enough to tuck in the

  collar of his shirt. He scanned the street again. He spotted another man in the shadows

  behind his car.

  He had to do something. He wasn’t going to get through the front door without a ram.

  How did he get by security?

  He decided to keep driving. He rolled along slowly, as if looking for an address. He

  turned and headed over to an adjacent street. He found a spot between buildings to

  park his car.

  He had at least two lookouts covering the front door of the place. How many were

  covering the back? Was there a way into the casino from the back? How did he find

  it?

  Rafferty inspected the street before getting out of his car. He pulled on the uniform

  cap as he thought about his next move. How did he find the casino and get in?

  He walked to the back wall of the house. He examined the bricks for something he

  could use. He pressed several in sequence. One moved under his gloved hand. He

  smiled as he pressed it all the way down. A door sprang open for him.

  Rafferty entered the secret room. He pulled out his lighter and flicked the sparking

  wheel to get a flame. Another door led deeper into the house. He felt around until he

  found a switch to turn. The inner door popped open.

  He stepped into a short hall that ran behind the main room of the house. He heard

  laughter and the click of glasses. He waited for a moment. Ambient light drifted from

  holes in the walls. He looked around until he found another switch. That one opened

  a spot behind a bar. He struck one of the bartenders with the Webley before he could

  react to the uniformed presence.

  The other man started to turn. The masked man threw him over the counter of the bar.

  He hit the ground and rolled.

  Rafferty grabbed the other man and threw him on top of the second man before the

  other could get to his feet. He smiled underneath his mask as more security

  approached the bar.

  He swept the alcohol off the shelves on the counter and floor. Some of the bottles

  broke open. He used his lighter on the spilled liquor. The bar went up in an explosion

  of flame.

  Everyone paused as the flames spread from the initial contact. The thugs moved to

  put the fire out. The customers started toward the door. Both groups hampered each

  other’s efforts.

  Rafferty picked up a bottle that had survived his initial arm sweep. He popped the top

  and threw it across the flames. He smiled at the trail of fire that ran after it until it

  landed on the carpet.

  “Anybody here seen Billy Bones?,” shouted Rafferty. He spotted security breaking

  free of the crowd. They would want to stop him and put out the fire. He didn’t see any

  guns, but that didn’t mean that much.

  He needed to spread some more panic so he could move forward from where he was.

  As long as he was behind the bar, there was no way to get into the crowd and find

  someone he could question.

  Rafferty grabbed another bottle from the shelf. He popped the cap as he hopped over

  the bar. He threw the bottle across the room. Fire followed the pouring liquid as the

  bottle sailed across the room.

  The masked man looked around. The crowd still pushed for the front door. He needed

  someone to talk to and ask questions. Who could he grab?

  One of the guards made that choice for him with an angry rush. He went down under

  Stolen story; please report.

  the weight of the man. He responded with an elbow to the neck. He pushed the man

  off and pummeled him before he could get his breath back.

  Rafferty looked around. A lot of the security was being pushed away by the fleeing

  crowd. He and his captive, and the two bartenders were all that was left in the room.

  “Where’s Bones?,” Rafferty asked. He pulled the security guard to his feet by his

  neck tie. “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” said the guard. He tried to swing a fist into the face of his enemy. He

  hit a shoulder. That freed his neck tie.

  Rafferty punched him in the face, then kicked him in the shin. He grabbed a chair and

  slammed it against the guard’s face. The man went down.

  The masked man looked around. He shook his head. There was no one close by for

  him to question.

  At least they knew he was looking for Bones. That might draw attention to the

  hitman.

  What did he do now?

  He decided that he couldn’t let the bartenders die from burning. He looked down at

  the guard. He couldn’t let him die.

  He could but he doubted Fletcher would like it if he did.

  He grabbed the guard and threw him through the closest window. He went to

  bartenders and dragged them out of the back door. He closed the secret door and

  pulled them out of the building.

  Rafferty dropped the men in the yard. He looked around. He didn’t see anyone in the

  back lot. He needed to make a call to make sure the burning house didn’t take the rest

  of the neighborhood with it.

  He went across the street. Lights were on in the house. He banged on the door. He

  waited quietly. The door opened to reveal a dowager looking out at him.

  “What you want?,” she said. “What’s that on your face?”

  “You have a phone?,” asked Rafferty.

  “Sure, I do,” said the woman. “Why?”

  “Mick Brown’s gambling house caught fire,” said Rafferty. “I think someone should

  call the fire brigade.”

  “And you think that someone should be me?,” said the woman.

  “I would but I don’t have a phone,” said the masked man. “Could you please do that

  for me?”

  “All right.” She turned from the door. “Hugh, some idiot pretending to be the flag is

  wanting us to call a fire brigade.”

  “Really?,” answered someone who could only be Hugh. “What’s he playing at, do

  you know?”

  “No,” said the woman. “He says Mick Brown’s place is burning down.”

  Rafferty walked away while they were still talking. Other lights were coming on.

  Someone must have seen what was going on and the word was spreading.

  He headed for his car. He could call the Operator and see if she could get someone

  down to the house. Fletcher might want to know what was going on.

  Rafferty got behind the wheel of his car. He looked around. People were in the street.

  No one seemed to be looking his way.

  He pulled out of the alley. He headed down to the end of the block. He needed to get

  out of the costume until he was ready to do more damage.

  How was Brown going to take the burning of his casino? Would he levy his troops

  to look for the masked man? Who would he call to help in his search?

  How could he leverage this into something he could use against the gang lord? Who

  would take sides?

  Should he call the Operator? Fletcher might not know that he had burned down the

  casino yet.

  Had he put Billy Bones on the spot? What would the hitman do now that the rumors

  would fly that someone was looking for him?

  Would he start looking for Rafferty to stop the detective from burning down any other

  place owned by Brown.

  How many could he wreck before Brown started increasing the security to keep him

  from doing that?

  He needed to take time to plan an approach where he could get his hands on any

  paper evidence.

  Where would Brown keep any books for his enterprises?

  Rafferty pulled under a bridge. He changed clothes and stored everything in the trunk.

  If someone stopped him and searched the trunk, his secret would be out. That would

  be the end of his short career as a vigilante.

  Fletcher would have to recruit another disgruntled policeman to carry out his

  missions.

  Rafferty found a phone booth after some minutes driving. He didn’t know where

  Brown was, or Bones. One of them would show up eventually. He had to be ready to

  prove they had committed the crimes he accused them of doing.

  Right now, if it was proven that he had burned down the casino, he would be brought

  up on charges of arson.

  It was bad enough to think he was suspected of taking bribes from Brown’s rival to

  put him away. Adding other crimes to the pot would get him extra years in prison.

  At least the mask made it hard to prosecute for the arson. He had the motive, means

  and opportunity, but anyone else who hated Brown could have the same thing.

  Maybe he could pin the crime on someone that worked with Bones. He needed a

  likely suspect with no alibi that could be framed for the crime.

  He doubted anyone like that would stand out.

  He stepped into the booth. He dialed the number for the Operator. He watched the

  street as he waited.

  He didn’t want to be caught in the phone booth if someone decided it was the perfect

  chance to get rid of him. At least the car acted as a partial shield from where he had

  parked it at the curb.

  “Operator, state your name,” said a different voice. So the organization was bigger

  than he had thought.

  “Rafferty,” said the former detective.

  “Hold for Fletcher,” said the Operator.

  Rafferty considered hanging up. He didn’t need to talk to the man himself. He just

  needed to know if Brown had been sighted anywhere that Fletcher’s people had a

  watch.

  “Mr. Rafferty,” said Fletcher. “What are you doing?”

  “I am looking for Billy Bones,” said Rafferty. “You wouldn’t happen to know where

  he is at this moment?”

  “Why are you looking for Bones?,” said Fletcher. He muttered something away from

  the phone.

  “He is a gunman that specializes in shootings from cars,” said Rafferty. “I would like

  to talk to him about a shooting that happened after our meeting.”

  “Give me the details, please,” said the knight.