Walter dealt in bootlegged whiskey which was strange considering that none of the people who worked with him had ever seen a drop of liquor pass his lips.  Nevertheless, in 1920s New York, in the throes of Prohibition, bootlegging whiskey was a sure fire way for the determined underdog to make a name for himself, and a good deal of money to boot.

He and his gang worked out of a large basement, with sophisticated home brew bubbling constantly in stills throughout the dimly lit chambers.  They ran their moonshine all over the city, serving some of the largest and most elaborate speakeasies in New York, many of which were run by the most powerful kingpins of organised crime.

Time and again, Walter was invited by wealthy clients to join them in their syndicates, but Walter remained aloof.  He never broke any other laws than those related to illegal alcohol, and he never drank a drop of his own liquor.  Perhaps it was his mysterious character, or his permanent calm and quiet demeanour, but the crime bosses of New York seemed willing to leave him alone as long as their supply wasn’t interrupted.

And so things ran smoothly until one summer in the late 1920s.  Police had made a serious bust, arresting several minor players in one of the crime gangs, closing down three speakeasies and raiding bootlegging operations all over the city.  Beat cops were exercising extra vigilance on every street corner and Walter’s men were nervous.

“What we gonna do, Walt?” demanded Big Joe, cigar ash dropping onto his faded waistcoat.  “You know we got that major deal with Kinnear’s lot.  We’re in big trouble if the cops catch us, but we’ll be in even bigger trouble if we don’t deliver.”

Walter merely leaned back in his chair and pulled thoughtfully on his cigar.  The major deal with Kinnear’s lot was a family wedding – the daughter of the boss was getting hitched to another player in town.  At that moment, Walter was surrounded by bottles and bottles of moonshine intended for the grand wedding party in two days, but with police sniffing round everywhere, there was no way anyone could think of transporting it all to the venue, just a few blocks away.

“We’re liable to end up dead!”  With that last word, Joe’s half-smoked cigar dropped clean out of his mouth.  He stamped on the lighted end and ground it into the basement’s dirty floor.

A thought began to form in Walter’s mind.  Liable to end up dead?  That was the answer.  Suddenly he could see the perfect plan unfolding before his very eyes.  The front legs of his chair snapped down as he rose to his feet.

“Get the lads together,” he said.  “I know what we’re going to do.”

    *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Two days later, Walter surveyed the results of his planning.  It was perfect.  In the bright sunshine of a summer morning, he walked, respectfully, cap in hand, behind a funeral procession led by two beautiful black stallions.  On the hearse, surrounded by flowers and wreaths, a large wooden coffin lay, and behind him, forming a sombre line, his men and their wives and girlfriends followed with slow, measured steps.

Neighbours lined the streets bowing their heads as the procession filed by.  Policemen at every corner took off their caps and gave a respectful nod.  There was much whispering about who might be in the coffin, but nobody came near the mourners or asked any questions of them.

At length, the procession reached the undertakers, and turned off the main street to unload the coffin at the side door.  As arrangements were being made around the hearse, the view of the onlookers was obscured and so they gradually melted away.

So it was that they did not see the gate at the back of the alley swing open.  They didn’t see the black-clad gentlemen gently lead the horse not to the undertakers, but back to the newly-opened gate.  Neither did they hear a faint clink as the hearse passed onto the cobbles of the yard.  The gate closed.  The delivery was made.

As soon as the gate was closed, a door at the back of the building opened, and Walter and his men were let into the venue where the wedding was to take place.  Safe inside, the men threw off their mourning garb and cheered at their success.  Soon, Old Man Kinnear himself was with them laughing and joking.  Walter took him out to the hearse, opened the lid of the coffin and revealed the neat rows of carefully packed liquor bottles.  Kinnear wasted no time in pulling one out, opening it and sampling the wares.

Glasses were brought, and drinks were poured for everybody.  Kinnear took Walter’s men inside to see the preparations for the wedding.  Big Joe thought he had never seen anything so fine in his whole life.  And so it was some time before anyone noticed that Walter wasn’t there.

“What’s he doing?” Kinnear boomed, having drunk his fair share.  “Someone get him so we can drink a toast!”

But Walter could not be persuaded to touch a drop.  He wouldn’t even come into the building but preferred to stay in the yard with the horses.  Frustrated, Kinnear marched down to the yard.

“Hey, Walter, come on and get a drink.  We’re celebrating!”  He offered Walter a glass, but Walter didn’t take it.  He stood respectfully before Kinnear and declined his offer.

Kinnear was not to be put off.  He clapped his hand on Walter’s shoulder and guided him firmly towards the hearse, still bearing the coffin full of bottles. 

“Look at that,” he said gleefully.  “It’s a marvel!  Surely you’ll have just one drink with me.”

But Walter still refused.  By this time a few of his men had gathered in the yard and joined in the persuasion, some teasing, some begging.  None of them could understand why Walter wouldn’t just have one drink with them.

But Walter merely stood by the coffin, smiled at them all and politely declined.

And the moral of the tale is: You can lead Walter to the hearse, but you can’t make him drink.

(This moral tale is a little more obscure than my other one: A Tale of Two Counts.  I hope you can guess the proverb that’s being referred to at the end, but if not, feel free to message me and I’ll tell you!)