“I’m ready to fight, why ain’t you?” The Swede swings his long lantern jaw in my direction.
Cinders stands between The Swede and myself to address Dinny, “Ya deserve only the truth from those that are loyal to ya. Harry’d’ve given ya that, if only ya asked. An’ he was more loyal than any o’ us.”
“Speak for ya’self,” The Swede interrupts.
Cinders’ eyes glint at The Swede, “We know ya’re loyal. But not everyone in this room is.”
“What? We got a tout in our midst?” The Swede says. “Who is it? Point him out?”
All in the room turn their eyes on each other and wonder.
“I agree,” Tanner Smith’s gravelly voice sounds off as he emerges from a dark corner and steps into a shaft of light where dust dances round his muscular build. “Get rid o’ this ILA tout an’ we’ll be better off. Henry Browne ain’t loyal. He’s ya man, Swede. He’s loyal to Thos Carmody an’ the ILA, not the White Hand.”
Cinders chimes in, “Tanner. Ya took a rake o’ money from us to do a job; get rid o’ Thos Carmody. But we’re still talkin’ about him to this day, ain’t we?”
“Yeah, we’re all ILA now,” Red says. “What’s it matter if Henry Browne’s in here if we’re all part o’ the longshoremen union?”
Cinders makes his case to Dinny, “Instead o’ doin’ the job, Tanner took the dime for himself an’ tried to muscle his way into union leadership. He backstabbed ya, boss. Yet ya reward him for it an’ eighty-six Harry? What’s happenin’ to us? If we’re goin’ to war, I want Harry Reynolds by my side,” Cinders flicks the back of his hand toward Tanner. “Not this fookin’ schemin’ bastard.”
“I’m tellin’ ya right now,” Tanner looks about and slowly moves from the amber light that files through the arched windows. “Quick Thos was in the same infantry division as Bill Lovett an’ Non Connors an’ I hear they’re married to the same notions now too. We gotta cut ties wit’ the ILA. The ILA can’t have us both. Thos is gonna choose Bill’s side against ya, Dinny. I swear it. The ILA’s against the White Hand too, ya just don’ know it yet.”
“Hold on a second,” Vincent comes forward from the door. “Ya’re the one’s gotta feud wit’ Quick Thos, not us. An’ that’s only on account o’ he wouldn’t let ya buy-in wit’ the ILA when it was us ya sold-out. I hear he called a blood feud on ya too. One o’ yaz gotta die, an’ I wouldn’t bet against Quick Thos, never.”
“I always heard ya an’ Thos were buddies,” Tanner points at Vincent. “Some say ya spend all that time down at the Adonis because ya’re a tout for the Black Hand.”
Vincent’s eyes go cold and he leans his angular body toward Tanner, pulls the .38 from his belt and extends it at the end of his arm, “Ya question my loyalty?”
In a quick move, Tanner grabs Henry Browne from behind in a choke-hold with the curved, keen point of a bowie knife held along the thin skin of the jugular, “Here’s ya tout, it’s Browne. Look at him, the tout for Thos.”
Everyone sitting quickly stands. The rest stare at Tanner and look for an opening to bring him down. But Tanner is a wire of nerves and jerks his catch in the direction of anything that moves. By the neck, he drags a petrified Browne backward and into a corner.
“Tanner,” Dinny moves slowly round his desk and leans against it, “Ya not gonna kill him, so put the blade away.”
“Get outta the way, Vincent,” Tanner says. “Go stand by Dinny.
The Swede cuts in, “He’s all talk an’ no trousers.”
Though Henry can’t afford to believe that.
“Tanner,” Dinny repeats softly, with a morose and distant smile on his face.
But Tanner’s eyes have desperation in them, his mouth downturned in anguish, “Remember when I saved ya back when?Ya think I forgot? Look at all the things I done for ya, Din. I was there when they had the hit on ya, the Hudson Dusters an’ the Strong-Arm Squad. It was 1900-even an’ ya was what? Ten? Eleven?”
“I remember that,” Dinny nods, his eyes focused toward the floor.
“I gave ya money. To go to Brooklyn ‘cause I knew a guy. Coohoo Cosgrave. I told ya who to talk to, didn’t I?”
“Ya did.”
“He helped ya. Made sure ya father got a decent burial, didn’ he?”
“He did, ya’re right.”
“Then ya was in jail an’ all o’ Irishtown was gonna starve, until I helped ya. I risked everythin’ to help ya, Din. Everythin’. I told ya if ya don’ give me quarter in the White Hand, I’ll tell everyone, I will. I will.”
Dinny smiles through a nod, “Ya did what ya could, Tanner. I feel bad. I really do. Ya tried to do the right thing as best ya could.”
“Don’ give me that shit, Din,” Tanner’s double-edged blade quivers over the jugular, spittle turns out of his mouth in small, shooting thrusts as he speaks. “I did right by the White Hand. I posted a bond on ya behalf to secure ya release. That’s what ya needed, so I got it for ya. Just like when ya was a kid, I helped ya. I proved my loyalty, twice over.”
“Tanner.”
“Tell me what else I can do? Tell me. Tell me an’ I’ll do it.”
“It’s time—”
“Don’ turn me out. I’ll die out there. They’ll get me. Ya know they will, Din.”
“It’s time we talk about a punishment, Tanner,” Dinny leans against the desk with one hand.
“Punishment?”
“I know ya tried, Tanner. But bailin’ me out was on ya own terms. Nothin’ overcomes betrayal, see? Ya know how the old codes are,” Dinny’s voice is low, almost to a whisper. “It’s a warrior clan’s oath we take. It goes back a long way. To the Fenians. It’s so deep that it even reaches into the ancient myths an’ the Otherworld. Maybe that’s not how it’s done in Manhattan where it’s every man is for hisself. Here? Brooklyn? We’re not like that. We remember. We remember the old ways. Take a look around ya,” He spreads his arm out along the many of us. “Every man here has a job, an’ does it. But if he breaks trust wit’ us? Breaks the bond that keeps us strong an’ I do nothin’ about it? Ya leave me no choice, Tanner. A public punishment’s in order.”
“Fuck that,” Vincent’s arm is still outstretched with the snub nose .38 pointed in Tanner and Browne’s direction. “He pays wit’ his life t’day?”
“No,” I cut in as Tanner inches toward the door. “We’re not killing anyone.”
“Brand him a tout,” Cinders says. “Brand his face. I’ll get the blacksmith farrier to make a ‘T’ for tout so all know him as such.”
“Yeah, beat an’ brand him,” The Swede says as the rest of the men agree with a “Here, here.”
“I have a way for him to prove his loyalty,” Dinny says.
“I’m leavin’! I’m leavin’ here,” Tanner’s eyes are big now and sweat has moistened the curls along his forehead. “Get away from the door, Vincent. I’ll bleed this fool white, right here in the office. Move, Vincent.”
Vincent lowers his gun and steps away as Tanner yanks his prey toward the door. Henry Browne’s heels drag on the wood floor ominously.
“I risked everythin’, Din,” Tanner yells out. “I’ll tell them. I will!”
“G’ahead then.”
Tanner looks at everyone in the room, “I got a deal wit’ Johnny Spanish the shylock.”
“Well that explains a lot,” Cinders flits a finger at Tanner.
“An’ the vigorish on it is t’rough the fookin’ roof. Ya banish me an’ I got nothin’ to pay him back wit’. Yaz think ya’re hard. Yaz’re nothin’. Think he won’t go after my fam’ly? Johnny Spanish shot his own pregnant wife in the belly back in 1911, remember? Remember? An’ wit’ Thos Carmody callin’ for a blood feud on me? Quick Thos is a killer now. Sixty-seven confirmed kills over there in France. Shit, if I don’t pay Spanish, then the two most dangerous men in Manhatt’n will want me dead. I can’t even go back to my own neighborhood.”
Tanner reaches behind him to open the door, “Yaz don’ know the shit I’m in
now.”
He shoves Browne into the room, slips out the door and slams it behind him until we hear his boots pounding down the stairwell. Cinders makes it to the door first and yells Philip’s name down into the saloon as we all rush out.
Downstairs Tanner’s gravelly voice is calling out, “Get off me, get away! I’ll slice ya!”
A scuffle takes over the saloon and the crowd of men swirl and surge round Tanner like a riptide to pull him under. When we finally elbow through the men, Philip Large has his little legs and arms wrapped round Tanner on the floor like a constrictor snake and is bending him backward.
Cinders then pushes through us and comes to his knees by Philip’s ear. He whispers gently and pets the feeble-minded man’s hair as if he were a puppy and without delay, Tanner is let loose.
“Grab him,” The Swede mumbles. “Hold him.”
Dance, Eddie and Freddie have Tanner by the arms and legs as Tanner tries to catch his breath. Men had climbed up the mahogany bar to get away from the waving bowie knife but can now come down again. Two appear to have been cut, but not badly. Even Philip is bleeding from his ear, though he doesn’t realize it.
Behind us, footsteps creak on the stairwell. It is Dinny, descending.
“Make way,” someone says, and the crowd of cold-eyed men do.
Standing next to me, Dinny looks down to Tanner, “Eighty-six him,” I advise. “Forever.”
“Kill him,” Vincent knuckles his .38.
“Beat an’ brand him,” The Swede’s voice falls on Tanner like a gavel. “Treachery is the righthand o’ wrongdoers.”
Tanner wriggles to free himself as Dago Tom hands Dinny the hunting knife.
“I have a better idea,” Dinny calls out so all may hear. “The debt ya have taken on Irishtown’s behalf is not proof o’ loyalty. Loyalty is the kin o’ honor. To prove ya’self on our terms. . . I got a job for ya, Tanner.”
“What job?”
Dinny addresses the room, “Pickles Leighton has a retrial in May. If he’s released Bill will have a brigade o’ scofflaws to go along wit’ his Trench Rabbits an’ the Lonergan Crew,” the men round Dinny cast slurs in the memory of Pickles. “Bill’s tryin’ to build an army, an’ that’d even the score. It seems Pickles won’t give him those soldiers until he’s released. Otherwise Bill’d have them already an’ they’d be at our door.”
Cinders begins to chuckle when he figures where the conversation is headed as Dinny turns his eyes down to Tanner, “Make Pickles done in Sing Sing and Bill never gets his scofflaws. Those are our terms.”
Tanner’s sharp eyes turn dull, “Ain’t that how—”
“McGowan was killt, Dinny’s first righthand,” The Swede finishes Tanner’s sentence and crosses himself. “God rest his soul.”
And god rest his sister Emma McGowan’s soul, I cross myself too. My first love.
Dinny shifts with dauntless mannerisms until he speaks aloud, “Make up for what ya done, Tanner. The men in this room don’ respect ya for backstabbin’ us when we sent ya to do a job last time. Make up for it an’ ya will be rewarded wit’ quarter in the White Hand.”
“How am I supposed to do a job McGowan failed at? An’ now Pickles has an entire army in Sing Sing.”
“The difference is Owney Madden,” Dinny explains. “Pickles has a group that follows him inside, but so does that banty rooster, Madden. Ya was once close wit’ him an’ the Gophers. Back before he killt Little Patsy Doyle an’ got a stint for it. I’ve been in touch wit’ him already. Everyone remembers Eddie Gilchrist, right?”
“Lumpy,” someone responds.
“Lumpy the Lamb.”
“Madden has offered Gilchrist protection,” Dinny explains, then moves his eyes down to Tanner again. “An’ he knows ya’re comin’. McGowan took one eye from Pickles. Tell Owney Madden ya there to take the other. That’s ya job. Ya do these things an’ I’ll talk wit’ Thos Carmody about droppin’ the blood feud he put out on ya. Also, the White Hand will assume the debt to Johnny Spanish, an’ finally. . . I’ll name ya dockboss o’ Red Hook.”
“Red Hook?” Tanner wonders. “Ya divvy up territory that ain’t yours?”
“It will be when we crush Lovett an’ his band o’ lost boys.”
A cheer goes up at those words and a big toothy smile is back on Cinders’ face. Even The Swede, born and reared in Red Hook, nods in agreement.
“What about the Black Hand,” I whisper to Dinny. “They’ll want it back.”
But Dinny does not answer. When the room settles again, he has one more question for Tanner, “Do ya know what done means?”
Tanner nods, “Done means done, Din. I know.”
“Let him loose,” Dinny orders.
As Tanner comes to his feet, Dinny puts a hand on his shoulder, “Ya gotta outstandin’ gun charge for violatin’ the Sullivan law, right? Turn ya’self in. Plead guilty. Ya’ll be out in a year. Probably less.”
“A new war for the inside!” Cinders beams. “Gee whiz if this was a movin’ picture, I’d watch it. Better than The Musketeers o’ Pig Alley. I tell ya what, Din. I shoulda never doubted ya. That was unlike me. I’m sorry about that. I was wrong.”
“It’s fine,” Dinny says as he looks into each and every one of our eyes. “Remember though, it’s a silent war. Wars for the inside o’ Sing Sing always are. That information never leaves this room.”
We all nod.
Dinny points a knuckle at Tanner, “Go.”
Tanner wipes down his togs and straightens his black tie. All eyes are on him as he opens the door. Outside the city scrapes like metal shearing against iron until the door closes and Tanner’s shamed face disappears from the window.
“Dinny,” I whisper in the gray light that illumines us and casts two long shadows on the floor between the bar and the long wall. “About Red Hook, what will Sixto Stabile think if we give it to Tanner. We could lose our deal with the Black Hand.”
He hesitates before answering, “That’s the thing, ya never lose fam’ly. Friends come an’ go.”
“But Tanner—“
“Helped me when I needed help. Now look what I’ve done to him,” He stares out the window. “Sent him on a dark journey.”
When I turn to look out the window with him, a mass of men round the corner at Plymouth and Bridge streets. Their clothes ripple when the waterfront wind hits them and all hold their caps. At the head of them all is a face I have not seen in some time, though it appears different. Bill Lovett’s eyes are circled with black and his face seems pale and bloodless. To his right Non Connors strides in our direction and to his left is a one-armed man, all clad in military garb.
“Here comes the bride,” The Swede nods toward Bill, then moves to Dinny, “Our weapons are upstairs.”
“Gillen, Eddie, Freddie,” Dinny says. “Pat them down before enterin’. Trouble, an’ we’ll bring fire from above.”
As Dinny turns for the stairwell, I call to him, “But how many people would die if we come down with all those weapons—”
“Shut it, Liam,” The Swede bumps passed me.
Merged in the Moonlight
She feels a tap on her shoulder. And a voice that calls her name. A woman’s voice sweet and caring. A friend. The voice shook her by the shoulder but she could not wake, even as she tried with all her strength she could not move her legs or her body in the paralysis of sleep.
“Anna, Anna,” the woman’s voice calls as soft as wind through trees.
Anna Lonergan opens her eyes and can see, though her body feels bound by the coma that still grips at her.
“Anna are ya alright?”
She moves her eyes up to Grace White. Knowing there is safety, she closes them again until finally her body begins to stretch out a great yawn. But the back of her head pounds to the rhythm of her heartbeat and bile has settled in her throat.
“Ya was banjaxed last night like I never seen a woman get banjaxed before,” Under her shift Grace’s breasts shimmer as she moves her weight
off her knees to her backside.
A long ash at the end of Kit’s paper cigarette threatens to break as speaks, “Ya almost drank ya’self under the bartender.”
“We had to carry ya upstairs,” Grace has a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “An’ when we put ya on the sofa, ya fell off an’ ya wouldn’t let us put ya back, so here ya slept all night on the floor.”
Anna sits up and feels that her underclothes and the bottom of her dress are wet. She pulls the cover off to reveal a dark halo stain on the rug round her thighs.
Kit Carroll points with her cigarette at the bathroom behind Anna, “Just missed.”
“Not again!” Grace runs to the kitchen to fetch a bucket of soapy water.
“Go in the bathroom an’ take that dress off,” Grace commands. “We’ll bring ya a new one. If Sixto finds out ya wet his rug he’ll send us to hell.”
“We’re already in hell,” Kit growls. “Ya think stumblebums, fuckwit’s an’ drunken clowns have the freedom to prey on women in heaven?”
Grace and Kit scrub the rug in unison as Anna pads to the bathroom. The mirror shows that the black and blue mark Bill Lovett had given her is gone now. The mirror also reveals a raggedy, damaged girl.
Good, Anna thinks. I just want to hide in the Henhouse by day. And by night, hide in dreams with Neesha, my love. My prince.
But she remembers his words when she told him she wants to visit him to live in her dreams forever, ‘That is not how it works,’ he told her. ‘You must surrender.’
But what does that mean?
‘Continue on, an’ ya will learn, I promise,’ he answered.
She unbuttons and slips the dress over her shoulders to let it puddle on the ground at her feet. Her wet underclothes fall over the dress on the floor as she steps out of them and looks again at the wretch in front of the mirror.
I don’t want to be a queen, I just want to be left alone. I want everyone to call me Anna the Loveless. Anna the Lost Princess.
Divide the Dawn- Fight Page 22
