Death in the Distillery by Kent Conwell

Ahead, car lights flashed.
I looked around, searching for a house, for anything, but
all I saw was a forest of stunted oak and cedar growing out
of chalky-white limestone. A perfect spot for a kiss on the
lips.
    The brake lights of the Lexus lit the night with a red
glare as Huey stopped just past the parked car, obviously
intending for me to stop beside the vehicle at the side of
the road.
    I braked to a halt and rolled down my window. Danny
O'Banion grinned up at me from the window of his car.
"Long time since Dallas, Tony."
    "Ten years, Danny." I glanced around the dark countryside. Below us, the highway looked like two strings of
Christmas lights, all white. "I sort of figured on a fancier
place for our reunion than out here in the middle of nowhere."
    He laughed, that same old infectious Danny O'Banion
laugh that had a disarming charm on everyone. "Sorry, but
I need the privacy."
    "For what? This isn't where I get my kiss on the lips, is it?" I was clearly puzzled as to the reason for such a clandestine meeting.

    He chuckled. "You watch too many movies. No, it's
about the guy at the distillery who got himself killed." Before I could reply, Danny continued. "Look, Tony. It's a
long story, and I'm not going to bore you with it. I know
the old lady hired you to investigate it. To come up with
independent proof that it was an accident. Bottom line for
me-was it an accident?"
    I studied the cherubic face looking up at me from the
other vehicle. I suppressed a rush of irritation. "Come on,
Danny. What's it to you?"
    His grin faded. "Just say I'm curious."
    "No." I shook my head. "You pulled me out here with
no explanation. You want to know if Patterson's death was
an accident. Be realistic. For you to go to all this trouble,
it has to be something besides mere curiosity."
    "Yeah." He chuckled. "Look, I don't blame you for wondering, but honest, old friend, I got my reasons. They're
another whole story. You wouldn't be interested."
    Which was a polite way of telling me to stick my nose
somewhere else, which also brought up another question.
Just what was Danny O'Banion's involvement with the distillery?
    He continued. "A favor, Tony. That's all I'm asking."
    As usual, his irrepressible charm swayed me. He was the
sort you couldn't help liking, that little boy demeanor.
"What the heck. You just want to know if it was an accident or not?"
    "Yeah."
    "It looks that way, Danny. I'm sure there are probably
some around who had reason to kill the guy, but all the
hard evidence points to an accident." I did my best to give
him the bare bones of the police report. My suspicions, I
kept to myself. "It appears he got soused, took a joy ride
on the tractor. When he went under the tree, he ducked, the
tractor hit the ditch, and he bounced out. It was that simple.
Satisfy you?"

    Danny studied me. "Yeah. But do me another favor. You
find out any different, let me know. First off." He hesitated.
    "I don't understand, Danny. Now, what's this business
to you? You owe me some kind of explanation."
    His grin faded. "I'm looking into it for some business
associates."
    Business associates? I frowned. His kind of business associates, I didn't want to mess with. "Sure. Why not?"
    Danny hesitated, studying me. Maybe he felt he owed
me an explanation after all. "Thanks. Hey, look, we go way
back. All I can tell you is I'm involved with some influential people who have sizable investments out there as a
result of a contact I provided. These are people who want
to keep a low profile."
    His voice dropped lower. "These are gentlemen you or
a bozo like me don't want to make mad. If there's a murder,
and their involvement becomes public, my friends will be
very upset with me. That would blow my credibility all the
way to China, and me right along with it. You understand?"
    I considered his explanation. Influential people could
mean mob members, and despite their efforts to curry the
image of legitimacy, those