The Fighting O'Keegans

by Aaron Kennedy

  ‘Go play with Mommy, Daddy needs to get dressed and I promise…I’ll come in and give you a kiss as soon as I get home. And be good while I’m away.’

  Meehan looked at his wife as she picked up their daughter. He leant forward to kiss her, finding her cheek had replaced her mouth as she turned her head.

  ‘And I’ll see you soon too, wait up for me.’

  Chapter 35

  Flannery’s cousin attacked, the meat cleaver rose and fell, biting deeply into the rear flank of a beef carcass, severing the back limb with a clean powerful stoke.

  Over his shoulder Flannery and O’Keegan watched as Flannery’s cousin dismember the calf’s body, practiced cuts creating sections of cow that would be instantly recognized by the shopping public.

  The art of the butcher impressed both of them as they recognized the skills of the Cousin, the lack of blood amazing them, expecting wall to wall carnage from the dismemberment.

  ‘Shame it wasn’t Meehan’. Flannery said grinning. O’Keegan kept the smile from his lips.

  ‘Let’s not get too wrapped up in the whole Meehan thing. We didn’t even know he existed a month ago and anyway, it doesn’t matter where you go, they’ll always be a Meehan somewhere in the pile of shit…anyway, are we any better?’

  Flannery thought about it for a second, wrinkles creasing across his forehead.

  ‘It’s not that we’re any better or any worse, it’s just that we’re ‘us’ and he’s ‘them’. He’s had his turn on the merry-go-round, it’s time he got off and gave some new boys a turn’.

  ‘But if we win…are we going to be just the same? Are we going to kill every shop keeper that doesn’t pay on collection day?’

  ‘We’ll need to keep some discipline…some control, otherwise it will all go to shit.’

  O’Keegan nodded, still thoughtful.

  ‘Yeah, but if they’re paying protection money, who are we protecting them from? Us or someone else?’

  Flannery waited a second or two, showing he was thinking it through before a smile appeared as the answer came to him. ‘Both…’

  O’Keegan’s eyes tried to measure Flannery, wondering if something was wrong, not wanting to bring up again what had happened at the warehouse, the loss of the new men a blow to both of them.

  Looking the scuffed Flannery over, not knowing if it was bravado speaking or common sense, what a business I’ve got myself into, he thought to himself. It was interrupted.

  The night black bakelite phone in the corner of the butchers shop back office trilled. O’Keegan and Flannery both looked over at it, surprised that it actually functioned.

  Flannery’s cousin pulled a small piece of dried blood encrusted cloth from a hook on the side wall and made a half-hearted attempt to clean off the small remnants of meat and blood from his hands before lifting the telephone’s receiver.

  Bringing it to his ear, he listened without saying anything, not sure who could be ringing him at the shop, a look of faintly masked suspicion on his face as if it could only be bad news.

  A few moments more listening to the speaker on the other end of the line, he then pulled it away from his ear and prodded the phone into O’Keegan’s chest.

  ‘It’s for you.’

  O’Keegan took the phone listened for a few moments, his hand tightening, knuckles white around the increasingly fragile looking receiver. He nodded a few times then said

  ‘OK. I understand. I want him safe…I mean it, it’s up to you now, everything is in your hands.’

  O’Keegan gently, almost delicately put down the receiver. Taking up the meat cleaver he lifted it quickly above his head, slamming it down to pass through flesh, muscle and bone before imbedding itself in the wooden work surface below, inches deep.

  Flannery looked on, silent, expecting O’Keegan to tell him what was happening. O’Keegan mouth stayed firmly closed as he paced back and forth. But something perhaps his small alarm bell, told Flannery not to ask while O’Keegan walked his repeating circle inside his cousin’s shop.

  After what seemed like a small age, O’Keegan stopped pacing, he turned his anger filled eyes on Flannery who resisted flinching at his look. He had never seen O’Keegan like this before, even when they had had their little tussle in the boiler room.

  Looking at him now Flannery discovered an even stronger respect for O’Keegan. Even when they had been beating two tons of hell out of each other, O’Keegan had never shown any anger. Even as the blows, kicks and punches had been thrown, O’Keegan had stayed cool, detached, to O’Keegan the pain and violence of their fight was just a ‘routine’ kind of thing. Flannery was now sure that he had never truly seen O’Keegan lose control but whatever the caller had said, O’Keegan was close to losing it now.

  O’Keegan struggled to work through it, focusing on figuring out his next steps, from news, to anger to action as he strode. Finally Flannery spoke up, not able to wait any longer.

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  O’Keegan stopped walking. ‘Some of Meehan’s boys took my Father.’

  Flannery’s leant back against the counter, not able to think of anything to say.

  O’Keegan went back to pacing, ‘Seems they found my old man, under his local bar the worse for a few extra shots of the good stuff. Meehan’s old buddies wrapped him up almost as soon as we started giving Meehan trouble. Meehan has him. He gave my brother a message to give to me, said he wanted to talk, to get this all sorted out…’

  ‘Christ, what now?’ Flannery waited, wondering if this was the point where it all completely unravelled.

  O’Keegan grabbed his jacket from the hook, throwing it on, ‘Now, we make sure that Meehan regrets screwing with me and my family’.

  Flannery placed his hand on O’Keegan’s shoulder, ‘O’Keegan, hold on a second…what about your Father?’

  O’Keegan shrugged it off, ‘Don’t you worry about my Pa, I’ll make sure it’s all sorted out.’

  ‘You’re sure? What do you need?’

  O’Keegan nodded, ‘Nothing. We’re short handed as it is. I don’t owe the old bastard anything…it could just as easily have been me with my hands around his throat. Meehan might be doing me a favour’ O’Keegan smile coming out as a grimace. Flannery shook his head, hearing the bluff untruth in O’Keegan’s words.

  ‘That’s it? You’re not going to help him? You’re not going to make a deal with Meehan?’ He watched O’Keegan, saw the shake of O’Keegan’s head. Flannery took a breath, knowing O’Keegan wasn’t telling him everything but not wanting to push it.

  ‘OK O’Keegan, you do it anyway you want, what next?’

  ‘Next? Next we talk to Meehan, then go to the warehouse and make sure everything’s ready. We’re going to make some cash out of this aren’t we?’ O’Keegan almost whispered.

  ‘Christ O’Keegan, is money the only thing on your mind, what about you’re Pa? Would you give me up so easily?’

  O’Keegan flinched, his eyes appraising Flannery as he said, ‘I told you, it’s all going to be in hand, my baby Brother and some of our local boys have arrived, that was Jamie on the telephone. That money you sent them came in handy for something other than booze…’ O’Keegan’s anger started to surface.

  ‘Shit, you’re brother’s running around in Boston somewhere trying to find your Pa?’

  ‘That’s about it but don’t you worry yourself. There’s not much we can do at the moment anyhow. But we do need to meet Meehan’

  ‘When, should I pull some of the boys together?’ O’Keegan shook his head, starting to get read to leave. Flannery followed O’Keegan’s action, both pulled on their jackets and left the shop.

  Chapter 36

  The slim well manicured hand pushed the black cloth white frilled perambulator along the equally well manicured park pathway, small yellow gravel crunching under delicate feet and small white rimmed wheels.

  The child sat up, smiling back and listening as her Mother talk about everything and nothing, comfortable to be ta
lking nonsense to her daughter as they casually walked with no destination in mind, happy to be out in the sunshine.

  Fat little fingers with the world’s perfect nails held tightly to her prized possession, a small teddy, not having left her side since the first sleep after birth.

  Turning to her mother, the child let the teddy loose, focusing on her mother’s smiling face as she talked pointing out the pigeons that waddled around the pathway in their search for food scraps.

  ‘Look at the pigeons darling, aren’t they funny? Her daughter’s feet drummed on the mattress, her frustration and impatience slowly mounting.

  ‘Yes Darling, I know…I know….in a little while I’ll let you down and we’ll go feed the ducks’

  Alteri watched, sitting casually on the donated wooden bench, a retrieved newspaper raised up covering his face but allowing his eyes to flick up occasionally to watch Mother and child.

  From the side of his vision he saw the young man standing by the trees, knowing what was to come next. Alteri wondered about it, knowing the safe play was to go all the way but not sure he was ready to cross that particular line yet.

  Alteri saw the youth break away from the tree, starting his casual walk towards the Mother, coming in from behind. Ten feet, nine, eight…it would soon be his time.

  Standing and ruffling the newspaper loudly, the Mother looked over at him, her apprehension clear just for a moment before she set it aside, her comfortable ritual walk a habit that kept her confidence high despite the new addition of Alteri and his folding newspaper. He raised his voice, calling out to her as the youth continued to narrow the distance, still behind her and invisible as she continued to focus on Alteri as he tried to get her attention.

  ‘Excuse me Madam. I’m not from around here and need to get to Copley Plaza…wonder if you can point me in the right direction? Sorry to bother you.’

  She paused, her distrust showing but seeing Alteri’s smile, she put on her helpful face taking a few safe short steps towards him, her perambulator out in front. She thought about it, her top teeth nibbling on her lip as she thought through the direction.

  ‘Yes, of course, when you get out of here go through the main gates, you’ll need to cross…’

  Alteri stood, making no moves to get any closer, ignoring her words as she explained each road, each right and left turn making sure to nod occasionally as if he was taking in every word and memorising it. All the while Alteri watched with careful eyes as the youth passed her, a quick hand reaching into the perambulator to grab his prize. Alteri continued to smile at the Mother, occasionally repeating a word to show participation. He silently let out a silent breath as it all happened, the youth now brushing past him, his back to the woman as Alteri continued his visible nods and finger pointing as he tried to repeat her directions back. Finished, she smiled over at him, obviously happy to have helped.

  ‘Thank you, I appreciate your time madam…so just out the gates at the end then follow your directions.’ He pointed towards the gates, then set off towards them. ‘Thanks again’

  He gave her a smile he truly felt as he left, walking back towards the main gates, happy that it was done without any messy complications. Standing outside the wrought iron gates, he waited for a second. The youth nodded to him as he handed Alteri the package, taking off without waiting to see Alteri quickly shove it was inside his jacket. Now to get back to the meat shop he thought, as he closed the top few buttons.

  As he turned down one of the streets, he heard the screams echoing around the square he had just left. They weren’t a surprise. Not waiting, he walked faster to create more distance between himself and the never ending noise.

  Chapter 37

  Walking along the sidewalk Flannery watched O’Keegan out of the corner of his eye, marvelling at how composed O’Keegan was.

  Either he didn’t give too much of a damn about his Father or he had true faith in his baby Brother to make sure his Pa would be fine. Either way, for Flannery, this was a new twist on O’Keegan, a person he thought he had figured out back in the ship.

  Flannery checked his thoughts, time enough for figuring this stuff out, the next few days and weeks would be crucial and he and O’Keegan needed to stay focused, otherwise they might join O’Keegan’s Pa in hotter water.

  Walking beside him, Flannery looked sideways at O’Keegan,

  ‘When did you say we needed to meet Meehan?’ O’Keegan continued to look forward, no hesitation in his step as he waited a few moment before answering.

  ‘I didn’t…’ A few more moments and with a glance over at O’Keegan Flannery asked,

  ‘We’ll, when do we?’

  ‘Now…we’ll be met at the waterside’

  ‘Let’s hope it goes okay, I didn’t bring anything to swim with.’

  O’Keegan turned to him with a smile. ‘Don’t worry, if it goes wrong, I doubt you’ll have much chance to try your backstroke.’

  Shit, Flannery thought, his fingers almost unconsciously slipping to his leather belt to reassure himself that the knives were still in place. Shit.

  Focusing on the walking, Flannery put thoughts of the O’Keegan clan on the backburner, he wasn’t sure he would every really understand how O’Keegan’s brain worked.

  Although both men moved with a strong confidence, they both kept their eyes and bodies constantly moving, scanning the people, the windows, the alleys they passed as they walked to Boston’s waterside.

  They walked through the Boston streets like they belonged there, predators that were walking through their hunting grounds but still aware there were other, sometimes bigger predators around every corner or camouflaged as just another member of the daily herd.

  Meehan’s men established, doing their rounds, keeping their business together through a history of muscle and fear.

  One of Shorty’s little birds had let them know the Police Commissioner had ordered a ‘one night only’ ban on anyone causing them any troubled, an order even Meehan would not openly go against.

  Flannery and O’Keegan didn’t allow that piece of news change anything, it was too inbred in both of them, their apprehension and wariness inbred. They kept their eyes open, both men instinctively stiletto sharp aware of everything that was going on around them.

  The poor and hard streets of any city bred men like this, men always on the edge, primed and ready, streets where no one ever reached adulthood whole, one way or another they changed you, took something away, gave something else in return.

  They had long since become top of their game at looking out for themselves, those that hadn’t learnt had long since been put in an early grave. But despite appearances, both Flannery and O’Keegan had that little bit extra, that little bit more than just speed, strength, aggression and instinct. Flannery and O’Keegan had learnt how to use those elements of themselves as just another set of tools, they had learnt that most people preferred to laugh rather than fight.

  Flannery thought about it as he walked, perhaps there was a loose cog in the workings of their brains or perhaps life had treated them so hard that the good side of them had just been burnt out as a child. When you ran up against someone like broken and rebuilt like them, you really only had two choices. To be somewhere else, permanently or to cut out their hearts and make sure it was just as permanent.

  Stepping around some street garbage, he thought about it, people like Meehan didn’t know when to lie down and give up. If you put them down it would only be a matter of time before they were coming back at you with whatever they could lay their hands on, a chair, a knife, a glass, anything.

  Flannery knew from having been in Boston a grand total of just over a month that it wasn’t that hard to find a gun in this city and knew from personal experience that it was even easier to pull a trigger.

  Flannery knew there was really no options as far as the Meehan problem was concerned. One way or another, Meehan had to be put down.

  The real complication was Meehan snatching O’Keegan’s father, wou
ld that stop them doing what was necessary?

  Flannery knew that despite what anyone might say, killing someone was easy, after you had done it once the next time came down to what were the risks and were they worth it? They only had their own sense of right and wrong left. As Flannery and O’Keegan made their way over to the wharf side, Flannery knew Meehan was one of those men, accepting that death was walking closely behind him, its breath constantly blowing on his ears.

  Perhaps he felt invulnerable to it or maybe Meehan didn’t have the imagination to anticipate his own death? Meehan would never give up his business or his territory unless they made sure that he was introduced to his constant companion on an intimate basis.

  Meehan needed to die, Flannery was sure of it, it was just a matter of making it happen, as they moved closer to the wharf, he just hoped it all worked out as planned, he knew there would be surprises, he just hoped they and their boys were good enough to cope with them.

  Flannery and O’Keegan kept silent, the rough and cobbled street slick after thrown buckets of water from shop keepers keen on keeping their slice of the street clean of the daily dirt.

  The sun had lost it’s edge, slowly giving up on a another day which it had started with such high hopes, brushing the top of the Boston shops, Southie’s rough and ready homes, starting to give up its battle with the night.

  It had tried it’s best to penetrate Boston’s shadows, with another war lost, it retreated, becoming time again for darkness. Waiting again for tomorrow’s chance.

  O’Keegan and Flannery’s feet rhythmically beat out on the streets hard surface, they looked at each other, recognizing their tandem rhythm, amused that they were moving in lock step, a good omen for the night ahead.

  They did not immediately notice the automobile slowing, mimicking their speed and direction until it beeped it’s horn at an old man taking one too many rickety steps to stumble across the road and slowing the cars ability to move forward.