The Fighting O'Keegans Page 6

  It says something about humanity runs to a new place in the world but isn’t comfortable until it looks, tastes, smells and feels like the place they were so desperate to leave. South Boston was a little piece of Ireland in the new world.

  Over washed tired yellowed washing strung out across thread unwrapping string and off rusting fire escapes that had long time past useful for any fire that could and would often blaze. Small tenements, dirty streets and even dirtier children playing in them.

  Flannery and Alteri had hustled as soon as they left the rest of the guys. Their none too pleasant clothes and unshaven faces giving them the look of two workers intently on their way somewhere. Yet none could ignore or mistake the threat that a man like Flannery represented as he strode forward, Alteri nearly running to keep up.

  They walked down these South Boston streets, taking in every movement and potential threat in a place where the police had begun to retreat excusing themselves with the fact there was little here that anyone really cared enough about to steal.

  South Boston was a part of the city relied upon its own rules, its own local street law enforcement that had nothing to do with the laws and justice of the country or the city.

  Both men moved with absolute purpose.

  Three men, one sitting and two standing, spotted Flannery and Alteri as they turned into Broadway, one of the main arteries of the town that was still growing rapidly with new bars and stores servicing the inflow of immigrants.

  Flannery noticed them as soon as he raised his head from his pacing shoes. Patting Alteri on the shoulder, he nodded towards guys who stood around like unofficial toll collectors on their side of the street. Alteri shrugged, no falter in his step as they rapidly closed the distance.

  Flannery saw their frayed edges, everything about them speaking of physical work, hard times and desperation, he could almost smell their sweat as he closed the gap. He shook his head, it didn’t matter which town or city, there always seemed to be the same men, with the same implicit threat. Flannery already knew where this would end, even before he arrived to stand in front of the men blocking his way.

  The shame of it was there was only ever one way and it always meant someone was likely to bleed. Why did it always end as a fight over a small piece of sidewalk that no one gave a shit about? Today’s blood would be worn away by the boots of passers-by in moment, unaware and uncaring that this territory had been hard fought for just hours before. Stupid men proving nothing to nobody but themselves. The lucky ones got to laugh about it later, the unlucky ones didn’t laugh again.

  Flannery picked up his pace, Alteri accommodated until they were both travelling at ice breaking speed.

  Chapter 17

  Reaching the end of the warehouse, Shorty glanced down the alley to its end, looking for some kind of fire escape or something that would give him access to the roof. Nothing. A two storey wall, not even any windows.

  Shorty nudged his way past garbage cans and barrels as he continued his walk. It would have been generous to describe the space behind the warehouse as a street, an extended alley with pools of dirty water captured between broken cobbles, splintered bottles scattered and left over from homeless drinking binges. It was the place no one cared about and very few people saw except Shorty.

  Stopping at the last corner Meehan’s place was solid brick on all sides with the exception of that front entrance way.

  Only one obvious way in and out. Meehan had been smart, his place was an impregnable fortress unless you went straight through the front door.

  If Meehan was half the man the Supervisor had quakingly told them about then only a fool or, Shorty grinned, an Irishman would be prepared to walk straight through the front door.

  Shorty relaxed against the corner, these guys knew their business, they had obviously chosen a building which they could hole themselves up in for as long as necessary. The doors were probably reinforced, and even if you could get past them, who would be waiting on the other side? How many guns?

  They would have taken steps to ensure no unwelcome visitors, but if O’Keegan wanted it that way, Shorty would find a way to unlock this giant jewellery box…it just wouldn’t be today.

  Figuring that everything that could be done had been done, Shorty crossed back over the street and waited in the mouth of an ally for the Supervisor to appear.

  Chapter 18

  The three men watched and waited, this was their spot, they had nothing else to do. This was their part of town and if you passed by, they had the right to charge a toll. Nudging each other they marked Flannery and Alteri.

  The three men grinned at each other, a confidence that comes from easy scores from other strangers on other days. If it went as well as all the past times they would be in the local bar throwing back free drinks by lunchtime.

  Swapping nods and smiles they made up their small minds, their hunting instinct a mental anaesthetic of common sense blunting them to the threat that was Flannery and Alteri.

  The largest man stood, meaty hands pushed out as he stretched,, a sidewalk crucifix, preparing to lead them to one more conquest of the unbelievers. With the support of each other overwhelming their good sense, they walked into the centre of the pathway, waiting for Flannery and Alteri as they walked towards them.

  Flannery looked around at Alteri and thought himself lucky that O’Keegan had chosen him to come to find his Cousin’s shop. Assessing his soon to be dance partner, he smile inwardly, confident in Alteri’s support. Alteri had obviously been through the mill a few times himself, his lack of hesitation obvious and as Flannery met his eyes, Alteri gave Flannery a wink, smiling to show he was ready. Flannery turned back to the men manning their own unofficial toll collection point, picked up his pace and strode faster towards the three men.

  Flannery and Alteri started to laugh as they almost raced each other, pumping forward with forceful strides. The three guys looked at each other, were these guys coming at them crazy? The two guys were laughing…

  The leader cracked his knuckles in nervousness sensing this was not going to be a rerun of situations past.

  Flannery and Alteri reached them as the leader’s knuckle cracked, and began to push past staying side by side, not giving way or trying to move around them, just wanting through, taking the shortest distance from where they were to where they wanted to be.

  The leader spoke out, ‘You’d better leave now, we don’t want no wops in our neighbourhood.’

  Flannery hesitated for a moment,

  ‘Who are you calling wops? Alteri, you want we should kill these guys?’ Flannery looked over at Alteri, emotionless, like ordering ham and eggs or picking up a newspaper at a corner store. Alteri thought about it for a second then shook his head,

  ‘Don’t want to mess up my clothes, let’s leave them be this time…if their smart and move the hell out of the way’ Alteri gave the closest man a shove.

  Flannery shrugged turning back to face the leader,

  ‘OK, Alteri said we shouldn’t kill you, but do yourselves a favour and get out of our way, NOW’.

  Flannery placed his palm dead centre on the leader’s chest, pumping forward, insisting the leader back up.

  ‘You’re in our way…move… last chance…’ Flannery said

  The bear locked his legs, swinging up his hand to hold onto Flannery’s fingers, doing his best to prise them away. Flannery didn’t wait for him to respond and began pushing him backwards, the resistance the leader put up ignored as he forced him backwards, inch by inch.

  The largest man the others had got used to calling ‘bear’ was a good four inches and twenty pounds heavier than Flannery. But Flannery pushed forward as the leader tried to plant his feet down, Flannery grinding into the sidewalk, hand still firmly planted on the leader’s broad chest. The leader’s boots scrapped along the sidewalk, Flannery’s strength allowing no resistance.

  ‘What the fu…’ He did his best to take hold of Flannery’s hand but every time he reached up, Flannery would p
ush with a burst of force until the leader was thinking more about keeping his balance than fighting back.

  The leader looked to the other guys for some support, all initiative gone as he was flattened against the street’s railings. The leader’s changed a few shades of purple as he screamed into Flannery’s face.

  ‘You little shit, who do you think you’re shoving?’ A right hook connecting, Flannery’s head snapped an inch or two to the right before Flannery turned back, licking the speckle of blood on his lip, his hand pressure still constant against the bear’s chest.

  Flannery smiled, showing how this was more fun than intimidating. The bear’s stomach hit the floor as he looked into Flannery’s eyes, seeing unblinking solidity. Hesitantly the bear finished off his sentence.

  ‘This is our street and we say who comes and goes, we ain’t having no wops here…or wop lovers, you’re in the wrong place, go to North Beach…’

  Flannery held the leader firm, the railings pressing tight against the bear’s back, he had no where else to go. He looked up into his face, seeing for the first time the broken nose, the hard face, the fear almost hidden behind lazy and angry eyes. Flannery scowled with restrained anger.

  ‘Your streets? You really think so? Look you fuck, if you’re really this stupid let’s get on with it…I have somewhere I have to be and you and your boys are stopping me from finishing my business.’ Flannery almost absentmindedly slapped the leader, trying to hurt his pride more than his face. ‘You and I both know what’s next…so shut the fuck up, let’s not waste any more time talking…’

  Already a few of the locals were hanging around, watching the street entertainment, the nosy old women using the excuse of washing lines and clothing so they could watch. The bear and his boys looked around, seeing the sets of eyes watching them getting into hot water. There were few real choices left. This was their neighbourhood and they couldn’t afford any slip in their reputation.

  Alteri didn’t take his eyes off of the leader or Flannery as they would be the ones to ring the bell on round one. Alteri unconsciously changed his stance, sure in a few short moments he and Flannery would be taking on all three.

  With a shout the leader pushed the railings against his back, forcing himself forward. Yelling, he lifted his arms, wanting nothing more than to enclose Flannery in his large wiry haired arms.

  His two friends realised they were now getting down to business, they stepped in to throw punches into Alteri. Alteri brought his arms across his face, defending himself against the four fists being swung in. Taking a deep breath Alteri stamped down on the ankles of the tallest as he aimed a punch at the top of his gut, looking to hit the soft spot that would slow him down.

  Flannery anticipated the leaders first move, he had hoped the slap would take away any strategy the big man might have figured, pushing him towards his first instinct, to grip and crush.

  As the large man brought up his arms Flannery easily took a right step around his side, easing one of the small silver knives out and in the same motion he crouched under the bear’s raised arms.

  The leader looked down, turning his head to see Flannery in a totally different place than he expected, the flash of the knife focused his eyes on Flannery’s poised hand.

  Flannery didn’t wait for chat, pushing the point forward just below the big mans armpit, he punctured the clothing and with a quick slice in cut the tip of a fingernail deep from armpit to waist, no resistance from material or flesh. The incision took a split second and as Flannery finished his surgery, he left the tip of the knife pressed in just below the man’s ribcage.

  Looking up, Flannery grinned as he pushed with the knife a little, only a movement away from penetrating all the way to the hilt. The leader looked from knife to Flannery, seeing no give in either as he began to feel the burning sensation of Flannery’s knife work.

  Frozen in shock, he stood, arms still raised, focusing on his side and the blood oozing skin. Blowing out a lungful of painful air, his eyes pleading, he yelled,

  ‘Stop! For Gods sake, stop…’

  The other two men pulled back from Alteri, took in the red seeping line and cut clothing, seeing the knife still pressed against where the leader’s kidney waited.

  His boys moved a few steps away all thoughts lost as it was over before it had a chance to really begin, they had just run into at least two guys that knew their business. They were at a loss, knowing that they were close to seeing their man’s guts on the outside - common sense at the point of a knife kicked in.

  Alteri stood up, brushing himself down, waiting for Flannery to call the next move. Flannery’s was unsure, why hadn’t he just finished this guy off, it wasn’t long ago that he would have spit him and be already finished on his way, one more threat finished with. His eyes glazed as he thought it through, his hand still firmly pressed against the leader’s side.

  He looked away from the leader, seeing the gash he had created.

  Making up his mind, Flannery stood fully upright, and with a flourish, rotated his knife in mid air before slowly sliding it back into the recesses of his leather belt.

  $$The leader stood stock still, too afraid to move yet as Flannery calmly button his threadbare jacket button closing off views to his knife belt. Flannery’s message was clear, all acts of aggression had ceased but he kept one thumb tucked carelessly in his waistband in case these three local troublemakers didn’t quite see it the same way.

  ‘So…are we done?’ Flannery said, his voice calm, without any show of exertion.

  Spell broken, the leader reached around with his hand, pressing against the red gash, wincing in pain. Struggling to keep his voice pain free, the leader said,

  ‘Shit. Yes…yes, we’re done’.

  ‘You guys are fast but you’re playing at something I’ve spent a lifetime practicing…I can’t blame you for taking your shot, but next time make sure of your mark...’

  The leader took some comfort in Flannery’s words, mulling them over as he looked down at the clean cut. Flannery stepped back, giving the big man some room.

  ‘…if we’re done, then we might have something else to discuss’.

  The leader quickly raised his hand signalling defeat, looking around at his men, seeing the brief nods he got back,

  ‘No, we’re done. We just got stupid and chose the wrong people to screw with…what else is there to talk about?’

  ‘This is your neighbourhood?’

  ‘Yeah…’ The bear looked around at the face looking out from various windows. ‘At least…it was…why?’

  ‘Do you run with any of the other boys around here or are you solo?’

  The leader looked Flannery up of down, confused, not quiet getting where this was going.

  ‘We’re…we’re what you might call affiliates of Mr. Meehan.’ The leader primed himself, standing straighter pulling himself up while still holding onto his bleeding side.

  He waited for some recognition or some sign of fear from Flannery, but Flannery’s face was expressionless,

  ‘Affiliates?’ Flannery asked showing now signs of being impressed, the big man continued less certain, deciding it was safer to play it straight,

  ‘Well…of sorts…Mr. Meehan does what he likes around here and we don’t get in his way’.

  ‘Well that’s big of you’. Flannery said with a smile.

  ‘Yeah, well, he pretty much leaves us alone most of the time and we keep the streets free of wo…Italians…’ The bear threw a quick glance at Alteri before continuing. ‘…and…well, we let him know if anything happens… he leaves us alone as long as we don’t make too many waves’.

  ‘Tell me about Mr. Meehan?’

  The leader shook his head, not believing anyone hadn’t heard of Meehan.

  ‘He’s one of the main men around here. He has the Irish guys behind him. Owns most of the waterfront and aside from that, quite a bit of Southie. What he doesn’t own, the Italians have.’

  He took another closer look at Alteri,
unsure if he would take offence. ‘..that’s how’s it is here.’

  ‘Where do we find this Mr. Meehan?’

  ‘If your lucky you don’t and you should probably hope that he doesn’t find you either.’

  Flannery opened his jacket button his fingers running along the top of his knifes, he wanted answers, these guys didn’t have any time to play coy. The leader’s eyes jumped to Flannery’s fingers, opening wider.

  ‘OK, OK, there’s no need for that…just trying to do you a favour.’ Placing his hand on Flannery’s shoulder,

  ‘Look, you guys are good, I can set that…but unless you’ve got a hundred guys waiting around the corner you really don’t want to be messing around with Meehan. He has a warehouse on the docks, along fish pier 1, he also owns a store or something in Southie but believe me…don’t go anywhere near him, he has more than a few knives in his belt and doesn’t think about putting anyone in the ground that even looks at him funny.’

  Flannery took it all in, sure O’Keegan would want every word back when he saw him next.

  ‘Why don’t you let me worry about what we can or can’t deal with…just tell me what I want to know and we’ll be on our way… Southie?’

  ‘Your real strangers here aren’t you. You may be good with them knives but you’re not going to last two weeks here. Yes. Southie. You know…South Boston. You fresh off the boat or something?’

  Flannery smiled, allowing himself to relax a little for the first time since turning into the street,

  ‘Yes, that’s it…right off the boat. How’d you guess? Look, are you guys going to hang around here for the rest of your lives…or you want to get involved in something a little bigger?’

  The large man turned his head, sceptical but maybe Flannery had something aside from knives up his sleeve. He didn’t trust Flannery, there was no reason why he should but sitting around here seemed less attractive now than it had yesterday.

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Go home, clean and bandage yourselves up, met me at the docks just outside immigration this afternoon…say around 2 O’clock. If I’m not there yet, stay put until I get there.’