Though he wore a handkerchief mask over the lower part of his face, the tall man in mirror-type sunglasses seemed to show a workmanly patience at his job. For more than an hour one dark morning last week, he painstakingly measured out puddles of gasoline in each of the five dining rooms of Allgauer's Fireside restaurant in Lincolnwood, a suburb northwest of Chicago. While a stubby accomplice leveled an automatic at seven late workers and busboys, he methodically laid fuses of gasoline-soaked toilet paper from pool to pool. When, at 3:45 a.m.. things were finally ready, the two hoods...
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