Prohibition is the law of the land, but Nellie needs cash - after socking a gangster in the face, she's got ten days to make it right. Frightened and caught empty-handed, Nellie turns bootlegger.
She accepts a job from her sly friend Lola to pick up...
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SUNDAY, MAY 17 1925
"I'll pay some bull to unlock your cuffs," I tell Felix. He's got his head out the window, watching our little hideaway disappear behind us. "And then you'll lay low for a while. But first I think you owe me an explanation."
I shift the car into higher gear to get us going. We've got to get into the city as fast as possible. Lola will help us, especially if this shipment is so important. Hell, Michael Collins himself will bail us out.
Felix sighs. "I was booked in Toledo."
"I thought you said you were very good at driving?"
"I don't want my aunt and uncle to know. It was only two days."
"Somebody oiled the hinges for you, huh?"
He nods. I don't like the look of him in cuffs, but we've got a head start. Even if Lester makes it all the way to a roadside motel or hitchhikes, we'll make better time.
"I must admit I'm a little hurt, Felix. You had me thinking you were on the straight and narrow and you're just as crooked as the rest."
"We shouldn't have run," he says, "You should have let him arrest me."
"You just said you didn't want to go to jail!"
"Nobody wants to go."
"We can use some of Lola's money to pay off Lester's Captain," I say, "Rumor has it he's an easy mark."
Felix shifts and that makes the cuffs sing.
"We'll get to her warehouse, tell her what happened—and she'll help us. I'll ask her to talk some sense into her no good Fed boyfriend. They're gonna be married, you know? I'm pretty sure of it."
Felix shuts his eyes and leans his head back. I take it he's not in the mood for conversation. Thankfully I know the way back home. It's easy enough to follow the signs.
Driving in traffic is exhausting. I'm constantly playing with the throttle. My back's still sore from sleeping funny the night before, and Felix has been entirely silent. I'm grateful to see the steeples and apartments on the North Side.
At the Collins' warehouse I lean out the window and ask some idiot just lounging around to open the gate.
"We made it, see?" I tell Felix, "Look at that. One thousand clams—all ours."
He nods and I hope out of the car. Lola rushes to meet me from across the warehouse.
"Nellie!" she says, "I was worried. You're late."
She takes my arms and actually appears concerned. I'm not sure I'm buying it, but I gesture to the car.
"I'm only late on account of your cop friend," I say, "Howard cornered us just over the border. Tried to arrest us."
