“I have a vague idea,” I said dryly. “What kind of man was this Rako?”
“A smart hood.”
“Really smart?”
“Smart enough. You figure it out. He started out like a hundred other punk kids. He got his education in the reform schools of the country. He got out of the can twelve years ago and went to work for Johnny Clark. Within three years he was beating every rap we tried to pin on him, and within another year he was partners with Johnny Clark in the trucking business—or their wives were. Clark has a lot of hoods working for him and most of them beat the raps against them, but not very many ever go into business with him.”
“So why was Rako able to make it?”
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I have a guess,” I said. “I’m not a specialist on Johnny Clark, but I do know he has a
