Free Nemesis: The Final Case of Eliot Ness by William Bernhardt

The three plainclothes officers Matowitz had contributed brought out their battering rams and started working on the front door.
    It didn't break. Didn't even budge.
    "Toughest wood in the history of creation," Ness murmured. "Try it again, boys."
    The three men battered away at the door. They made no progress.
    Ness waved them aside and took a closer look. The battering ram had cracked through the exterior wooden doors-but they were reinforced by two solid steel doors.
    "That's disappointing," Ness said, with the same inflection other people might give a swear word.
    Matowitz's brow creased. "What's going to happen when my men go in through that skylight?"
    "They'll be on their own." Ness snapped his fingers. "Men, keep pounding at that door. Bob?"
    "Yes, sir?" Chamberlin answered.
    "Tell the men on the roof not to go in till they hear me whistle again. From the inside."
    "Got it." Chamberlin sprinted around the corner of the building until he reached the ladder.
    He returned less than a minute later.
    "Not to worry," he said, panting and frowning at the same time. "They can't get in, either."
    "What?"
    "Seems the skylight has been reinforced. They can't make any more progress than we have."
    Ness bit his bottom lip and stared at three men still futilely pounding away at a steel surface that would never give in. At least not unless they used something a great deal stronger than what they had.
    "You want them to keep poundin'?" Matowitz asked. "The people inside must've heard it, unless they're all stone deaf."
    "Which they're not." Ness glanced at his watch. Four minutes since they started the assault. More than enough time to hide anything.
    The men were still beating away at the steel doors when a sliding panel at eye level suddenly opened, revealing a pair of eyes on the other side.
    "You knocked?"
    Ness stepped forward, showing his badge. "I'm Eliot Ness, safety director. I want this door open. Now."
    The eyes disappeared for a moment. Ness heard a soft-spoken word of assent in a voice he thought he recognized. A moment later, he saw one of the heavy metal doors swing open on creaking hinges.
    A butler in full evening dress stood on the other side. "You may enter."
    The Thomas Club was packed with even more people than Ness had imagined. For the most part, they were well dressed and obviously affluent. The dance floor was filled and a small jazz quartet was playing "Begin the Beguine." The clientele appeared absorbed in themselves and barely noticed the arrival of the newly appointed safety director. Liquor was everywhere, but Ness knew the club had a license and occasionally bought some legal liquor so he would never be able to prove these particular drinks were rotten.
    There was not the slightest trace of any gambling or gambling equipment. No sign that it had ever been here at any time.
    "Bob, check the kitchen."
    Chamberlin pushed his way through the crowd.
    Ness carved a path through a wall of people in the opposite direction. He knew there were probably a dozen guns trained on him. He tried not to let it bother him.
    At least they'd been right about one thing. Frescone was here. He stood by the band wearing another of his tailored pinstriped suits that probably cost more than Ness made in three months.
    "Mr. Ness. So good to see you again."
    "Can't say the same. Where'd you stash the gambling equipment?"
    "Gambling?" He frowned. "Mr. Ness, are you not aware that gambling is illegal here?"
    "Everyone in town knows this is the premiere gambling parlor."
    "Would your informants be the same ones who told you I was smuggling alcohol last September?" He turned, addressing the audience. "Instead, our distinguished safety director managed to seize a lifetime supply of cold cream."
    A few titters rapidly developed into full-out boisterous laughter that filled the room. People shook their heads in disdain and elbowed one another in delight.
    Ness did not like being laughed at. Never had, not even when he was a child and the