A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [117]
“There must have been middlemen, sir,” Creech said, not yet sitting down.
“The manufacturer, a Roy Sedgewick of Toronto, has disappeared. Friehoff, whose warehouse was the drop spot, has been placed under arrest, and we also arrested five weapons dealers working from the exhibition tables.”
“Governor,” Chita Mendez of the Pueblo Chieftain said. “It sounds like no officials of AMERIGUN were involved.”
“Just one,” Quinn answered, “Senator Richard Darling of Wisconsin.”
BLAM
Breaking News Breaking News Breaking News
“Governor O’Connell has named Senator Darling of Wisconsin as the chief operator of a long-standing smuggling ring from Canada. Apprehended at the Denver International Airport, the senator has vociferously claimed his innocence. We switch you now to the Denver International…”
When the press conference regained its sanity, Len Sanders of the New York Times threw the question:
“Did you use computer surveillance, and how did you follow the weapons from Wisconsin to Denver?”
“Yes, we used computers. Our entire operation was covered by appropriate court warrants. Moreover, we took abnormal caution to see that there were no casualties. The two Jensen brothers were apparently killed by their own gunfire. I’m not totally free to give you the method we used to trail the weapons to Colorado.”
“Can we have some more dope on the VEC–44’s?”
Quinn held up the assault gun. “Here she is. It’s a 9mm, about .38 caliber, fully automatic machine pistol using thirty-five round clips. She only weighs three pounds, and the barrel is a few inches. You couldn’t hit a bull in the ass at twenty feet with one of these little buggers. They are designed to be in close and personal killers particularly for street gangs and burglars.”
“What is the current status of the operation, Governor?”
“Well, let’s see. Three thousand VEC–44’s have been logged and impounded. Some five or six hundred weapons were due to be delivered to buyers last night. They are part of the cache. The dealers have been taken into custody. More important, we have a search-and-seizure warrant in effect. Our teams are in the convention center checking all the weapon ID numbers. So far we have turned up well over a hundred laundered guns. In addition, a dozen exhibitors are wanted by police elsewhere.”
“What you going to do with all these weapons, Governor?”
“Melt them down for sewer lid covers. Let me say that any exhibitor selling legitimate material can have it returned by merely going to the Exhibition Desk.”
“You don’t expect any dirty dealers to actually try to claim an unregistered gun, do you?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Quinn said. “I wish to apologize,” he went on, “to the AMERIGUN delegates and directors and exhibitors of legitimate items. The vast majority of folks are honorable, law-abiding citizens. Unfortunately, an ugly element pervades any gun show, and there are hundreds of them every year. There is always an aura of fear and danger emanating. This was a rare opportunity to inspect all the contents of the exhibition tables.”
“You rat!” a voice screamed from the rear of the room. King Porter was held at bay by his confederates. “You entrapped us!”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Quinn said, “that is King Porter, CEO of AMERIGUN. King, you are free to come up here and join the news conference.”
“What! To your Goddamned fucking liberal press! This is war!”
“You bet it is,” Quinn answered.
In the days that followed, Governor O’Connell was deluged with messages of approval. The raid rang a note that a peaceful people had at last given the neighborhood bully