Stephen Rakes watched in horror. Bulger continued: "We either kill you or we buy the store." Rakes sat still and listened. Bulger explained that inside the paper bag, packed in neatly folded bunches, was $67,000 in cash. Never mind that Stephen and Julie had put about $100,000 into their new business - between the cost of the lease, the renovation, the stock, and the refrigerators - all of which they fully expected to make back and more. Bulger had set his own price, and this was Bulgertown.

"You're lucky you're getting what you put into it," Bulger told Rakes. Lucky? Bulger said off-handedly that they would give him another $25,000 if all went well. "Now, go away," he told Rakes. The three visitors moved to leave.

"It's ours," said Flemmi.

Rakes sat transfixed. It was now approaching 11 o'clock, and at the Liquor Mart, Julie Rakes, struggling to keep her wits, was anxious to close for the night. The telephone rang. She grabbed it.

It was Stephen again, and this time he was beyond tense. His voice sounded strange and faraway, and then Julie realized her husband was crying. Stephen explained the sudden turn of events, about a new deal, and Julie just listened, a numbness washing over her. This was what shock must be like, a suspended, out-of-body feeling: Stephen was whimpering, muttering things beyond belief, explaining what would happen next, what she had to do.

Julie Rakes looked up and saw an oversized man - well over 6 feet and heavily built - walk into the Liquor Mart. It was Jamie Flannery, someone she'd known in high school. They'd been friends. Flannery was also a regular at Triple O's. He had a drinking problem and sometimes worked as a bouncer at the bar. Julie had seen him at the bar with Whitey Bulger. Things suddenly were making terrible sense.

Julie put down the telephone. Flannery was abrupt. He told her to gather up her things, that he'd come to take her home. He told her not to ask any questions, and Julie Rakes complied. Hurriedly, she collected some money from the cash register. She picked up the plants her family had sent to mark the opening of the store. They put these things in Flannery's car, and then Julie, fumbling, turned out the lights and locked up, and they quickly drove away.

She never went back to their liquor store again. In the car, Julie was shaken, but Flannery said little, just drove, as he made his way down Fourth Street and began to slow down. Julie saw that up ahead, in the dark, three strangers were standing outside her door. She wanted to know, Who were they? Flannery identified the three - the one at the front steps (Bulger), the one just off the stairs (Flemmi), and the one nearing the car parked at the curb (Weeks) - and as Flannery got closer, Julie could recognize for herself two of the men, Bulger and Weeks. Behind them, Julie saw her husband frozen in the doorway.

"Keep driving, keep driving!" she shouted. Frightened, she didn't want to meet these people, and Flannery did cruise on past the house. It was the least he could do. He circled the block. By the time they returned, the three men were gone, but now Rakes was standing at the curb, waiting for his wife to pull up. He wouldn't even let her get out of the car. He handed her the paper bag and told her to go to her mother's house. Right away, he said through clenched teeth.

"I am going to my mother's house at this hour of the night?" Julie yelled. Stephen told her about the cash in the paper bag and repeated his demand. Just get out of here and take it to your mother's.

"What is going on here? Why is this happening?"

Stephen could not help her with the existential.

Julie was confused, crazy. "I can't go to my mother's. It's almost midnight. What are you talking about?"

Holding himself together as best he could, he told Julie he'd already called her mother. She was expecting her. Get going. His voice and his body were rigid. His eyes were still wet from crying. "Your mother is waiting for you." He wore an expression that said, Do as you're told.

The money, he said, was from Whitey Bulger. "It represents our investment," he said, parroting Bulger's angle. "We're lucky to have got it," he added, hypnotically.

Julie was off to her parents' house on Old Colony Avenue. Her mother and father were waiting at the door, a stone-cold look in their eyes. They'd heard enough from Stephen to know that the couple were entangled in business with Bulger - new territory for Julie's family, ground none of them wanted to occupy. Inside the bag was more cash than any of them had ever seen. Julie handed the bag to her mother. "Hide it." Her mother took the bag and padded into her bedroom and tucked it inside a hope chest. Now inside her parents' home, Julie broke down to her father.

"I don't believe it," she said, and she cried.

It took a few days for the Rakes family to fathom what actually had happened, to grasp fully that a bomb indeed had exploded in their midst. Part of the delay was likely due to certain stories, or myths, about Bulger. It was often spread around town that Bulger was supremely loyal to the people of Southie, that he liked helping people, that assisting the locals made him feel good. It was said that Bulger didn't like bullies, and he would put them in their place. It was said that Bulger, while not actually instructing anyone not to uphold the law, would encourage people to pursue their pleasure outside the neighborhood.

Supposedly, if he heard that someone had burglarized a home in South Boston, he would grab the perpetrator and take him to school in Bulger Ethics 101 - the first rule being that you could burglarize homes in swanky suburbs like Brookline or Wellesley but not in your own hometown. Men like Kevin Weeks were among the many who frequently promoted the Bulger propaganda, and the Rakeses had known Weeks for many years. The Rakeses, even if they didn't know Bulger, knew this reputation. But now, firsthand, the couple knew it was not true - Bulger had ripped the Liquor Mart away from them.

The other reason for the delay was a kind of paralysis. First, there was the shock of it all, the suddenness of Bulger's takeover. Then came anger at the unexpected ambush. The next stage would have been acceptance - facing up to the reality that there was little they could do about their loss. But before their anger had a chance to settle into that kind of quiet despair, the Rakeses, especially Julie, decided to put up a fight. In hindsight, maybe she should have known better and been more clearheaded about facing up to the facts of life in South Boston. But no one, not the Rakeses, not their family, not anyone, really, understood just how thoroughly Bulger had sewn up the neighborhood - and beyond, for that matter.

Soon after the midnight takeover, Julie and Stephen went to see her uncle, Detective Joseph Lundbohm. Lundbohm, a veteran Boston cop who had joined the force in 1958, was now working in the homicide unit. He was Julie's mother's brother and lived in Quincy, just south of Boston, with his family. He had attended Julie and Stephen's wedding and saw them occasionally at other family gatherings.

Lundbohm already knew about the new store the couple had opened; the good news had spread through the family. But he didn't know much else. He took his niece and her husband into his kitchen, and they all sat down. Mostly Julie talked, and she poured out her heart, Lundbohm says, "about three men coming to her house and stating they were going to purchase the liquor store." The narrative included the part about Flemmi and the little girl and the handgun, and Lundbohm bolted upright - the threat was unmistakable. Talking about it again upset Julie. Once she was done, Lundbohm let a few minutes pass to allow her to calm down.

Julie asked her uncle if there was anything he could do, if there was anyone they could talk to. Lundbohm replied that he knew someone whom he "trusted, who was an FBI agent." Lundbohm's thinking was that this sort of extortion was a perfect fit for the FBI. After all, the federal agency had more resources, in terms of manpower and technical capability, such as fancy electronic surveillance equipment. Moreover, Bulger and Flemmi were organized crime bosses. The FBI, not the Boston police, specialized in developing cases against organized crime. The FBI was the big time, and, best of all, the agent Lundbohm knew was on its OC squad.

The Rakeses gave their OK and left.

Lundbohm soon called the agent. Within a few days, the two law enforcement officials were seated at breakfast in a Boston restaurant - on one side, Detective Lundbohm, and on the other, FBI agent John Connolly.

Following some small talk, the agent asked what was on Lundbohm's mind. He told Connolly everything - about his niece and her husband having just opened this new business, and then about the gun, the girl, and the money. Connolly listened. This was a crime that could not be justified, as others had been, as necessary for Bulger to maintain his position in the underworld in order to provide the FBI with intelligence about the Mafia. Bulger's move on the Rakeses had nothing to do with the Mafia.

Faced with this dilemma, Connolly opted to go with what was now reflex. The FBI agent let the police detective finish and then said, "Would Rakes be willing to wear a wire?" Of all the available options, he'd thrown out the most intimidating. Connolly said nothing about wanting to bring in the Rakeses for a debriefing with FBI agents. Nothing about how the bureau might want to proceed cautiously to further investigate Bulger. He was playing hardball, as if the only option was the most dangerous and least likely to be enthusiastically received.

"They'd be afraid to," Lundbohm replied instantly. Lundbohm knew - indeed, every cop knew - that wiring up someone to see Whitey Bulger was extremely dangerous. Police agencies couldn't even persuade wiseguys who had been turned into informants to wade into Bulger waters with their bodies wired for sound. The idea of putting civilians at risk like that was reckless.

The Rakeses were amateurs. Besides, still fresh in the minds of cops like Lundbohm was the murder of Brian Halloran two years earlier: The story was all around that he was shot down right after going to the FBI. Lundbohm waved off Connolly's talk about body wires.

"I don't think so. I would advise against it."

"Then I'm not sure if much can be done, Joe." The meeting was over. "But I will look into it."

Connolly never did. Connolly did not write up Lundbohm's information in an FBI report. He did not share the information with his new squad supervisor, Jim Ring, even if only to discuss how to handle the accusation against two of their secret informants. Instead, on his own, Connolly decided that extortion by Bulger and Flemmi was not going to be any of the bureau's business, a decision that was certainly not his alone to make. "I would definitely have expected him to come to me," Jim Ring said later. "That's his entire job. There was an allegation that there was an ongoing extortion. That's what he's supposed to do. He's supposed to come and talk to me. He doesn't have the authority to go out and handle that on his own."

Connolly did share what he knew with one person, though. He told Whitey. Meanwhile, Following his breakfast with Connolly, Lundbohm called Julie Rakes and told her about the meeting, how he had advised against Stephen's wearing a body wire, how the matter was now in the FBI's hands and how the FBI would be in touch.

But just days after Lundbohm's meeting with Connolly, during a visit to the Lundbohm home, Stephen Rakes pulled Lundbohm aside, out of earshot of Julie and Lundbohm's wife. Rakes was nervous as he huddled with his wife's uncle.

"Whitey said to back off," Rakes told Lundbohm. Whitey, a shaken Rakes continued, had stopped him in the street in South Boston and said, "Tell Lundbohm to back off."

In an instant, Lundbohm had a single thought: Bulger knew about his talk with Connolly. And, more than ever, Julie and Stephen were in jeopardy. The truth smacked them in the face - all roads led to Bulger.

Stephen Rakes folded soon after the warning. Bulger summoned him to the Liquor Mart several times during the weeks that followed, and Rakes signed documents so that the takeover of their store appeared on the up-and-up. Rakes, at one point, had the gall to mention the additional $25,000. Bulger began screaming at him, and the money was never mentioned again. The conveyance was made out to Kevin Weeks alone, although Weeks later filed documents listing an equal ownership with Bulger and with Flemmi's mother, Mary. Stevie Flemmi later said the Liquor Mart was proof that he and Bulger were in a legitimate business - an absurd claim that was almost humorous if not for the dark extortion behind the takeover.

Even before the actual passing of the papers, Weeks showed up in the store and took over behind the counter, with Bulger hovering nearby. The sign out front was soon changed from Stippo's to the South Boston Liquor Mart. Then, a large, green shamrock was painted on the concrete exterior. Eventually, on a referral from John Connolly, the FBI in Boston began buying liquor for its Christmas party from Bulger's Liquor Mart.

Rumors spread through South Boston. There was hushed talk that Stephen Rakes had been held by his ankles from the Broadway Bridge, a rumor about a gun being put to his head, that he'd lost the store in a card game. But Rakes now mostly brushed off all the gossip and just kept his head down.

To support themselves, Stephen and Julie dipped into the paper bag full of cash hidden in the hope chest at Julie's mother's house. They treated their in Florida, and, the next year, they used some of the cash as part of a downd payment to get out of South Boston and purchase a home in suburban Milton. Their son, Colby, was born on June 5, 1984. Stephen Rakes had taken heed; he'd backed off.

While the family was in Florida, a rumor started that Bulger had killed Rakes. Weeks tracked down Rakes at Disney World and ordered him to come back. Rakes left his family, flew home, and, to quiet the talk, stood next to Bulger, Flemmi, and Weeks at a busy intersection so that passersby could see he was alive.

Rakes fell into line, behind so many others in Southie who sensed Bulger's presence everywhere. Rakes was eventually summoned before a federal grand jury investigating extortion and money laundering at Bulger's liquor store. He was called twice, in 1991 and 1995. Within days of the latter, Bulger pulled up next to him as he was walking in South Boston and called out of the car's passenger's window: "Hey, I'm watching you!"

But Whitey had little to worry about from Stephen Rakes. In both his appearances before the grand jury, he described how he'd happily and voluntarily sold his store to Kevin Weeks just a few days after opening it up. The reason? Rakes, under oath, said he was in over his head, had fallen too far into debt, and didn't like the many hours he had to log in order to run the business. He testified that Weeks had paid him $5,000 and that he took out another $20,000 he'd put into the store, for a total of $25,000. They were silly lies that no one believed, despite Rakes's best effort to sound relaxed and convincing. And the lies came with a price.

Rakes was charged with perjury and obstruction of justice, and in 1998, he was convicted of both in US District Court. For Rakes, it was the ultimate double jeopardy - the government that did not protect him went after him, while Whit ey walked away. But it was a fate Stephen Rakes had come to prefer to facing Bulger.

Postscript: Following his perjury conviction, Rakes decided to cooperate with federal prosecutors and testified before a federal grand jury. Faced with multiple charges, Weeks also began talking. Flemmi is in prison, awaiting trial. Whitey Bulger fled and is at large. Julie and Stephen Rakes divorced in 1991.

This story ran on page 14 of the Boston Globe Magazine on 6/11/2000.
© Copyright 2000 Globe Newspaper Company.