by Joanna Shupe
Another officer in the room chuckled. “O’Shaughnessy isn’t the type to bluff. If he says Mulligan’s in danger, then believe it.”
That was worse news. “But I cannot get ten thousand dollars by sundown.”
Ellison lifted his hands and let them fall. “Then I suppose Mulligan’s reign is over. Bound to happen sooner or later.”
“Detective! I cannot believe officers of the law would behave so callously over a man’s life.”
“Now, don’t grow hysterical,” Harrison said. “I understand this is upsetting to you but it’s not something the department can get involved in. I’m afraid Mulligan will need to figure this out on his own.”
“What if my father asked the department to become involved? Would you do it then?”
“No, I wouldn’t. Besides, your father would understand that these are two violent criminals and the city would be glad to get rid of one of them. He’d let it play out.”
With a snarl, Justine snatched the note, spun and marched to the door. And to think, she used to admire these officers. It turned out many of them weren’t admirable; they were corrupt and unreliable.
Haven’t you learned by now who really has all the power in this city?
She’d have to handle this herself.
Great Jones Street was only a few blocks away. Still, it seemed like an eternity before she stood outside Jack’s club. A fight was underway in the boxing ring, everything going on as usual. Perhaps the note had been a bluff.
The boys at the door wouldn’t meet her eye as she climbed the steps. “I need to see Mr. Mulligan.”
“Beg your pardon, miss,” one said as they both moved to block the entrance. “But we have orders not to let you inside.”
She rocked back on her heels. “Orders from whom?”
“Mulligan.” He pulled at his shirt collar. “I’m awful sorry, miss.”
Jack had barred her from the club? Her chest squeezed like it was caught in a vise. “Is he here? Please tell him I need to see him right away. I’ll wait.”
“He and Mr. Rye left—”
“Shut it, you idiot,” the other boy hissed. “He doesn’t want her knowing his business.”
She ignored the unhelpful one and focused on the boy who spoke first. “Left to go where?”
“I couldn’t say, miss.”
“He might be in danger. Please, tell me.”
The unhelpful boy sighed. “They don’t tell us where they’re going. We’re just supposed to guard the door.”
“Is Mr. Cooper here or did he go, as well?”
“He’s down in the cellar.” This was from the helpful boy, earning him a smack on the back of the head from the other guard.
“Thank you,” she told him and hurried to the metal doors that she assumed led to the cellar. “Mr. Cooper! I need to see you immediately. Please, Mr. Cooper.” She gave the metal a solid bang for good measure.
The metal door swung open seconds later. “Miss Greene?” Cooper appeared, glancing up and down the street. “What are you doing here?”
“I think Jack’s been kidnapped by Mr. O’Shaughnessy.”
Frowning, Cooper stepped out of the cellar and drew her away from the boys at the door. “Why do you say that?”
She took the note out of her handbag. “I went to the police first. They wouldn’t help me.”
“Worthless bastards.” He read the note. “Damn it! I knew they shouldn’t have gone alone.”
“Wait, so Jack willingly went to go see this O’Shaughnessy person? Will he get hurt?”
Cooper made a noise. “O’Shaughnessy would kill his own mother if he thought he could profit from it. Jack thought you were in danger, so he went to talk to O’Shaughnessy.”
Justine could only imagine that conversation. Jack would threaten and intimidate the other man to get what he wanted. The encounter would have gone to rot after that. “We have to help him.”
“He won’t like it. He said that’s what O’Shaughnessy wants, a big street fight to upset the balance of power downtown. It used to happen all the time in the old days.”
Before Jack. And wasn’t that exactly what Chief Harrison told her?
“I don’t care what Jack wants. I cannot get my hands on ten thousand dollars, so unless he has that kind of money lying around in the club, we have to think of something else.”
“I could maybe get together a thousand or so. Ten thousand? I wouldn’t know where Jack keeps that much cash.”
She could go to Mamie and Frank. Perhaps Florence and Clay, as well. Between them all, they could likely come up with the money. But there was no time. Light was fading quickly, the sun already low in the sky. If only her father were in town. Daddy would have the money—but whether he’d actually hand it over for Jack was another story.
Furthermore, she wasn’t certain any of her family would help. Florence and Mamie were not keen on Jack, especially after Justine had filled them in on her conversation with him the other night. They both thought she was better off without him.
Whether that was true or not, she couldn’t allow him to be killed. She could barely stand their separation now . . . and he was in perfect health. If he died, she’d never be able to live with herself—especially if she could’ve done something to prevent it.
Tilting her head at Cooper, she said, “We have to save him.”
“Miss, I’m thinking you should return home and let us handle it. Whatever happens might be dangerous.”
“Mr. Cooper, we don’t know each other well, but I won’t be returning home until Jack is safe and sound. Are we clear?”
Cooper grimaced. “He’ll kill me if you’re harmed.”
“Then blame me, because I’m not leaving. We need to go down there and get Jack out.”
“Short of taking every man in the club down there with brickbats, I don’t know what we could possibly do.”
Her gaze cut to the windows of the club, through which she could see the men shouting and clapping for the fighters. “Would that work?”
“It might. O’Shaughnessy doesn’t have as many men under him as we do, but Jack wouldn’t want us to do that.”
“Then it’s too bad Jack isn’t here. Come on.”
She returned to the front entrance and planted her feet. “Mulligan has been kidnapped. I must speak with everyone inside.”
The guards blinked, their jaws falling open. Instead of arguing, they stepped aside and let her through. Cooper was right behind her as she walked into the main room. Putting two fingers in her mouth, she whistled loudly, a piercing screech that cut through the noise. Everything stopped as heads swung her way.
In any other circumstance, the attention would have rattled her. Not today. Jack’s life was in danger. She had no time for nerves or second guesses. Every minute counted.
So she hurried to the ring, which stood on a small platform, and stepped up onto the edge. There were at least seventy-five men here, with a lot more in the saloon if the noise coming from the back was anything to judge by.
“Hey now,” one man called. “I’ve got ten dollars riding on this fight. Get down, miss!”
“Mulligan has been kidnapped by Trevor O’Shaughnessy.”
The words dropped like a stone thrown into a calm lake, causing disbelief and anger to ripple across the room. “How do you know?” someone shouted.
“I received a note demanding payment in return for Mulligan’s safety. It’s more money than I can produce in the time allotted, which I suspect Mr. O’Shaughnessy realized when he set such parameters. Regardless, we cannot leave Mulligan to O’Shaughnessy’s whims. We have to go get him.”
Cooper came up alongside her, steadying himself on the ropes. “She’s right. There’s no other way. We need to show O’Shaughnessy that we stand behind Mulligan, no matter what.”
The men shifted on their feet, exchanging glances, their faces showing their reluctance. She understood the hesitation; they were being asked to go into battle, where they might face injury—
or worse. She couldn’t tell them of her plan just yet, but she hoped to avoid worse.
First, she had to get them to agree.
“I ask you,” she shouted. “How many of you has Mulligan personally helped? How many of you would receive the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it? He cares about each and every one of you. Every man here has made him proud. You joined together to create an organization the likes of which this city has never seen—a powerful organization even the police cannot touch. You did that—you and Jack Mulligan. So, are we going to let Trevor O’Shaughnessy take all that away? Or are we going to go over there and get our man back?”
They started nodding before she stopped speaking. By the time she finished, men were filing out of the saloon and pushing closer to the boxing ring. No one moved, all eyes remaining on her.
Cooper leaned in. “Well?”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re all waiting for you to lead them over there.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Seething, Jack glared at O’Shaughnessy’s profile. How had he been so stupid? The mere thought of Justine in danger had him running here without any consideration for his or Rye’s safety. The move had been astoundingly unwise. O’Shaughnessy had been ready for them and Jack hadn’t seen Rye in hours. As soon as Jack was subdued, they had separated him from his second-in-command.
O’Shaughnessy had taken Jack to a small room with no windows, tied Jack to a chair. They sat here, just the two of them, while O’Shaughnessy whittled a piece of wood with a long knife. Slivers of wood rained down on the floor at O’Shaughnessy’s feet. The other man said nothing, just whittled.
O’Shaughnessy was obviously employing Jack’s favorite method of intimidation: silence. And, while Jack hated to cede the upper hand, it was in his best interest to try and convince O’Shaughnessy to let him go.
“This is reckless and irresponsible, Trevor.” No response. “I don’t know what you hope to gain. The police won’t tolerate any struggles between us. We’ll both be taken out and everyone loses.”
Nothing.
“If you kill me, you’ll have every man under my command coming for you.”
More whittling.
Jack sighed. “Listen, Trevor. I understand. I was once reckless and irresponsible, too. Hungry for more power. This, however, is not the way to get what you want.”
“Oh, should we talk it out, Mulligan?” the other man sneered. “Would you be reasonable then? Or would you just try to keep me and my men in our small little box on the other side of town?”
“Do you honestly think you deserve more than that?”
“I don’t think you have a fuckin’ clue what I deserve.”
“Then enlighten me.”
O’Shaughnessy threw the knife toward the door, and it spun, end over end, until the blade sank into the wood with a thump. Putting his hands on his knees, he faced Jack. “You think the fancy suits and big words make you a gentleman, that you’re better than the rest of us. But, you ain’t better. Your hands are just as dirty, just as bloodstained as everyone else’s in this city. We’ve tried to respect you and your men, but the island isn’t big enough for two leaders. It only needs one—and I’m the one with the balls to do something about it.”
“By killing me? Don’t be stupid.”
“I’ll try for ransom first.”
“Ransom? From whom?”
O’Shaughnessy’s mouth curved into a sinister smile and Jack’s muscles tightened in dread. “Let’s see. Who do you know from a well-to-do family? I figure she can afford it—even if it won’t save you.”
“Tell me you fucking didn’t.”
“I did. She probably has ten thousand stashed under her mattress. She’ll never even miss it.”
Christ. Jack closed his eyes briefly, absorbing the news that O’Shaughnessy had dragged Justine into this mess. For that, Jack would strangle the man with his bare hands. Though they were no longer together, Justine was the type to rescue anyone she perceived as in danger. If she showed up here alone, putting herself at risk, O’Shaughnessy wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage.
And Jack could do nothing to help her.
Rage streaked through him, a red blur of emotion, and he struggled against the ropes holding him to the chair. O’Shaughnessy just chuckled. “You’ll not free yourself of those knots, boyo, no matter how hard you try.”
“I’ll kill you,” Jack snarled. “I’ll kill you and enjoy every second of it.”
“Lots of luck, then.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and the smug arrogance in O’Shaughnessy’s gaze only enraged Jack further. But he had to remain calm. Losing his temper wouldn’t solve this.
“If harm befalls her, I won’t show you mercy,” he promised flatly.
“Save your mercy, Mulligan. You think we should all fear and respect you, but what have you done to earn that respect? Convince a bunch of gutter rats and street fighters to follow your lead? They’re on the streets, doin’ the hard work, while you sit in your ivory tower counting fucking money. That doesn’t earn my respect.”
“I don’t need your respect, Trevor. But you would be wise to fear me.”
“I grew up in Dublin, Mulligan. This is like paradise compared to what I saw there. I don’t fear anyone or anything these days.”
Jack shook his head. “We could have worked together, you know. It didn’t have to end up this way.”
O’Shaughnessy’s expression hardened. “I did try to work for you. Of course, you wouldn’t remember. It was years ago, when I first came here.”
Jack had no memory of that. It must have shown on his face because the other man explained. “Was told I couldn’t be a part of your crew unless I dressed up, acted like a gentleman. I didn’t own a suit, couldn’t afford one. So I asked for a loan to buy one—and your man laughed at me. Told me there were no loans, to go out and steal one if I had to.”
“I wouldn’t have reacted like that.”
“You know how it works. The men under you speak for you.”
“Just like your men were following my dancers and robbing my policy shops?”
“And I put a stop to both. Those responsible were dealt with.”
“You are running a gang of renegade thugs, Trevor. You will drag the city back decades unless you gain control over them.”
“Not all of us want to work for a corporation. This ain’t a bank, Mulligan. This is every man for himself.”
Idiot. “Then you’ll never be powerful enough to rid yourself of the coppers and Tammany.”
“Your concern is touching. However, thanks to the brothels, I have more men in my pocket almost than you. You’d be surprised the mistakes a man makes when he thinks with his cock.”
Was that a pointed dig at Jack and his recent preoccupation with Justine?
He had to ask. “How did you learn about her?”
“The entire lower half of Manhattan knows. Gorcey was the first one to tell me, though. She’s not what I pictured for you. Kind of plain.” He lifted a shoulder and scratched his jaw. “Sometimes the plain ones are better to fuck, though. They try harder in bed.”
Jack’s blood roared in his veins and he struggled against the ropes once more. “You son of a bitch.”
O’Shaughnessy threw his head back and laughed. “Like I said, thinking with his cock.”
“You had better fucking kill me,” Jack snarled. “Because if I get the chance I will end you, O’Shaughnessy.”
“Don’t worry. You will not get the chance—”
A knock sounded at the door and one of O’Shaughnessy’s men appeared. “You’d better come out and see this. We could have a problem.”
Without looking at Jack, O’Shaughnessy got up and walked out. Jack was left alone to stew with the dark thoughts inspired by O’Shaughnessy’s words. First, he would tie the Irishman up, preferably to a chair. Then, he’d take a knife and ever so slowly drag it—
O’Shaughnessy walked b
ack in and yanked the knife out of the door. Instead of sheathing the knife, he approached Jack with it. Jack braced. He wouldn’t beg. Other than never telling Justine how he felt about her, he had no regrets about his life. He’d done the best he could with what he had—and considering Justine had left him, he knew she’d be just fine. She was better off without him in her life.
Jack lifted his chin as O’Shaughnessy walked behind him. He expected to feel the blade against his skin, but instead he felt the tug of the ropes. The bindings around his arms fell to the floor, though his hands were still secured behind his back. O’Shaughnessy jerked him to his feet. “Let’s go. I want her to watch while I kill you.”
Justine had participated in countless marches over the years. Protests for fair wages, suffrage, better working conditions . . . She was no stranger to joining a mass of people in the streets of New York City.
This, however, was totally different.
Hundreds of men had followed her south to Broome Street, with more joining on the way. They streamed behind her and Cooper—well-groomed men with brickbats, brass knuckles, clubs and chains. By the time they closed in on Broome Street Hall, some women had taken up with them, as well.
It would have been a fearsome sight if she weren’t already so terrified.
Sunset was upon them, the lamplighters scurrying up their posts to do their duty, and Justine came to a stop outside O’Shaughnessy’s saloon. She prayed Jack hadn’t been hurt. I cannot lose him.
Not now, not when she’d just realized how much he meant to her.
He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. There had to be common ground for them, some way to straddle both of their worlds and create something new and different. Something together. After all, her sisters had both settled for unconventional men and made it work. Why couldn’t Justine do the same?
Whatever happened, she was not ready to give him up. She’d tried as much and it had only served to make her miserable.
She didn’t know whether he would forgive her or not but she had to try—if they could get him out of O’Shaughnessy’s saloon alive.