The Fighting O'Keegans

by Aaron Kennedy

  As one Flannery and O’Keegan swung their heads at the horn’s impatience, taking in the look and expense of the burgundy car as it’s held horn hurried on the old man, his panic obvious as he struggle to get his speed up, puffing.

  Their recognition of Meehan’s car was instantaneous, Flannery’s hands instinctively reaching into his waistband, taking careful hold on one of his slicing knives. O’Keegan shushed Flannery’s moves, holding briefly onto his arm, keeping it in place,

  ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’ He nodded over to the other side of the street to a cop that had just turned the corner, nightstick swinging in rhythm as he strolled. ‘Don’t forget, we have an amnesty until tonight is over. If you pull out your knives Meehan will have us gunned down. He’ll turn up his hands and tell the world we attacked him, despite the Commissioner’s orders…Meehan wanted this meet - let’s hear what he has to say first.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, I don’t trust the bugger, Commissioner or no Commissioner, Pa or no Pa’.

  ‘And you shouldn’t…but he’ll bring down too much heat on himself if he does something before the events done, and he knows it. I know people like Meehan, right now he thinks he’s got all the answers, all the cards. He probably thinks he still has plenty of time to take us out of the equation…He’ll not piss off the Commissioner unless he really has too. We have until after the event…until then we can walk where we please without worrying too much about the bastard. After then, it will be back to business - him or us.’

  Flannery and O’Keegan stopped walking, there was little point continuing, they waited for the car to pull up alongside them. The new wheels ground against the curb, as it was pulled in too closely to the sidewalk by inexpert hands. Looking through the front window, they saw that the Burgundy vehicle was being driven not by Meehan himself but by Tony. Their eyes continued to scan the car as it came to a stop, seeing Meehan lazily, arrogantly lying casually propped up in the back corner, making a show of concentrating while calmly running the sharp end of a file along one of his well manicured nails.

  Meehan feigned calm boredom, his face looking up as the car drew to a halt now fully alert, sitting like he was the King of Boston. O’Keegan knew now more than ever that he had only one choice if he wanted to stay in this city, perhaps even this country. He kept his emotions to himself, inwardly pleased that Meehan was being this predictable. This move was just the one he would make if he was in Meehan’s position, seeing Meehan O’Keegan knew at that moment Meehan had not received one vital piece of information, well, the gods were like that sometimes. Tony came out from the driver’s side, casually and without any form of speed walking around the car to the street side passenger door. He nodded once to Meehan checking to make sure that he still wanted to go through with the discussion, receiving a brief nod back, he popped open the door.

  Like a gallant hero, he flourished his hand and bending from the waist bowed to Flannery and O’Keegan. Giving O’Keegan and Flannery a bad toothed grin he said,

  ‘Gentlemen, if you please, we wonder if you would be so kind as to join us for a small chat.’

  Flannery spoke first.

  ‘My mother warned me about getting into the back seat of a nice car with a strange man, I’m not sure that I will.’ He grinned at O’Keegan. O’Keegan wasn’t up for screwing around, this man had snatched his Father, it was all too close to comfort.

  ‘Let’s get this over with Flannery’ O’Keegan stepped crouching into the free space at the back of Meehan’s car, grabbing Flannery’s upper arm to pull him in behind him. They both turned towards the front of the car, lowering themselves to slide into the new tan leather seats beside a seemingly calm and relaxed Meehan.

  The smell of new leather taking up every space in the back compartment, feeling the smoothness, the virgin warmth of the subtly heated seats as they sat back. O’Keegan’s nose wrinkled, there was already the faintest discord of cigar smoke fragrance intertwined with the almost overpowering buttery fragrance of leather, smells of a life he and Flannery had yet to achieve. Meehan’s car was a palette of the senses designed to reinforce his statement of wealth and position.

  Flannery shuffled himself backwards and forwards, playing the child in an exciting new place, awake beyond his normal hour.

  ‘Wow, it’s big back here Meehan. You could have a brass band sitting side by side and still have room for the chorus line. You got some show girls hidden somewhere in here? You want to share?’ Flannery looked around, impressed by the sheer size of the car interior and happy to tell Meehan so.

  Meehan kept quiet as Flannery and O’Keegan slowly settle themselves comfortably into the womblike seats, reinforcing the pleasure of his new toy, watching them as they appreciated its touch, it’s smell, it’s expense it was his private space but enjoyed it more seeing Flannery and O’Keegan appreciation. A minute later, Meehan grew impatient, deciding to launch into the conversation with his usual sledgehammer finesse.

  ‘O’Keegan, Flannery…’ He nodded at each of them giving them some degree of respect. ‘it’s good to finally met up. You boys have been making life difficult around here, but you already know that don’t you? I thought we should swap a few words before tonight’s event, I’m not sure we’ll get a chance to talk again, things might be different after tonight…’

  O’Keegan stretched out his legs before turning to Meehan.

  ‘What do you mean by that? How might things be different after tonight? Why won’t we get a chance to talk again? You going somewhere? That is good news.’

  ‘Don’t be fucking smart O’Keegan, I thought that was Flannery’s thing. I ain’t going nowhere and you know it…this is my town, I own it… if you’re smart then you and Flannery will be the one’s saying a quick ‘good bye’ to Boston.’ Meehan reached inside his jacket, watching Flannery and O’Keegan both tense, bringing in their feet as they made ready to move. Meehan’s hand came out, a cigar already rolling between thumb and index finger.

  ‘You and me can’t be in the same city, it wouldn’t be healthy, at least not for you and I care about your health, I really do.’

  ‘My health’s just fine Meehan, the Boston air agrees with me but I’m glad you care. I was beginning to wonder.’ O’Keegan’s eyes watched the cigar between Meehan fingers. ‘Anyway, why would I want to go anywhere else, this town looks like it could be interesting. Flannery and I have already begun to make lot’s of friends.’

  ‘Well you’re not my friend and I’m the only one that counts. Look, I’ll be straight…’

  ‘Well that’s a relief…I was a bit worried about you with a car like this…’ Flannery smiled, O’Keegan’s hand moved across touching Flannery’s arm, his voice cutting off.

  Meehan went on as if he’d had no interruptions. Now wasn’t the time to loose his famous temper.

  ‘…I’ll be straight…I’ve got my turf all wrapped up. Now there are parts of the city that don’t belong to me, those parts belong to the wops and the Chinks’. But I don’t want those, I probably couldn’t do business with their Italian and Chinese customers even if I wanted too. Over the last few years we’ve all settled down to a nice kind of peace. It’s true we have the odd run in but by and large everyone knows their place. That is everyone except you O’Keegan. You’re too new here, you haven’t figured out who and what you are up against. You been here what? A month, maybe two, give me a break. There’s balls and there’s just plain stupid.’ Meehan watched O’Keegan’s eyes narrow, but not caring, went on.

  ‘…Now I don’t know how they breed them where you come from, or how they do things there but you should have come to me when you got here, I am always looking out for talent, maybe we could have figured something out. People who know what their doing are rare, I always like to help people when I can, especially when they’re from the old country. But did you? No. You made a FUCKING move on my businesses. Mine do you get it? MY businesses…over the past month, you boys have visited a good number of the shops in my neighbourhood and co
llected protection money. That’s my money…you’re taking my money, and you’re doing it so everyone knows, so I can’t turn a blind eye.’ Meehan fingers involuntarily made fists, the cigar fragmented into dry flakes on the car seat, its smell released throughout the cabin. Meehan swallowed, trying to take back his temper, only now noticing the smashed cigar he had been readying. Looking back into O’Keegan eyes, he said.

  ‘Now you haven’t given me too many choices…you collecting my protection money has sent the word out, my boys are losing income, their not happy and neither am I. On top of that people are saying I can’t keep control of my own territory, that I can’t keep down a bunch of no name, no brains immigrants…and worse, this little event of yours has made you a name. People know you’re not part of my group and you’re trying to play in my territory. What that means either I have to kill you or you have to get out of Boston. I don’t care which…if you weren’t Irish, you wouldn’t still be breathing, let’s just say I have a soft spot in my heart for my old country and my old countrymen....’

  ‘You’re all heart Meehan, you know that….First Meehan, my immigrants as you call then are now spread throughout Boston. I snap my fingers and you’ll have ten tons of hell from all directions. Second, I see that I have a few other choices, you’ll not willingly open you territory to me’.

  ‘You do? I can’t think of any.’

  ‘I can’t help it if you’re not as smart as everyone seems to think.’ O’Keegan reached, pushing Meehan back into his seat, anticipating Meehan’s reaction as he started to raise himself from the chair. ‘Sit down and let’s keep calm until we need to do otherwise okay?’ Meehan sat back down.

  ‘As far as I can see, aside from me and my boys getting out of Boston, I can either work with you or against you. Those are my other choices.’ Meehan leant forward, his face inches from O’Keegan’s.

  ‘Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with? What makes you think that you can do either of them? Why would I want someone on my payroll who isn’t dry behind the ears? Okay so you moved quickly, at first I was impressed but now I figure you just made a few good moves…but you got lucky. That luck won’t last for long, I’ll make sure of it. What could you possibly offer me that I don’t already have except headaches? You think you have more muscle than me? You think you’re smarter than me? You have nothing to bring to the party and it’s my party…I send out the invitations - and you ain’t invited!’

  ‘Then we don’t have anything more to say to each other do we Meehan? and I’m not sure why you bothered to have this conversation in the first place if that’s how it is.’

  O’Keegan made a move to get up, to let himself out of the stationary car. Meehan’s hand reached out and grasped O’Keegan’s upper arm beginning to pull him back down into his seat.

  ‘First of all, we haven’t finished speaking, I haven’t told you you can go…and second, I would recommend you finish hearing out what I have to say before you make a decision you’ll regret.’

  ‘Mr. Meehan, the moment your flunky took out your little slice from our Boiler room pay packet, you started something that only has one place to go. I don’t have a bone in my body that would have just let something like that pass by without doing something about it. It’s not the money you understand, it’s someone twisting my arm and taking what belongs to me and my boys. There’s no taxation without representation, ain’t that right? We’ll I’m representing the Boiler Room boys, you set yourself up as the taxman, this is your problem to solve. You took my money because you could, one way or another, I’m going to take your territory because I can or I’ll be dead trying.’ He turned to Meehan and stared straight into Meehan’s equally unflinching eyes.

  ‘It going to come down to you or me Meehan. All these guys running around us, doing what we tell them, they’re just distractions, keeping things busy until you and me sort it out once and for all. When this is settled, it will down to just you or me. In fact, why don’t we just sort it out now, outside of the car here and now and if you don’t have the balls right now, then tonight, at the event. I take it you’ll be at there?’

  ‘Don’t have the balls, you think I’ve got what I have without balls. You are stupider than I thought. Tonight? Yeah, I’ll be there, what do you have in mind?’

  ‘Why don’t we put a little cherry on the cake for our audience? Give them what their paying for’

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘You and me, toe to toe. No guns, knives or anything more than our knuckles. Can you still remember how that works? How that feels? Or have you had your boys doing too much of your dirty work for too long?’

  Meehan allowed himself a smile, he hadn’t got to be the top of his own tree without coming up through the mill. Meehan had been battling with anything and everything since his earliest memory and he hadn’t found anyone yet that didn’t succumb eventually to his temper and willingness to go all the way. It’s true that he had boys to do his killing and roughing up, but they only did it for Meehan because he’d earned his stripes and his boys were more afraid of Meehan than of any person they were required to put the torch too.

  Meehan had made sure he had done is homework, he had got the inside scoop from his people in Ireland and even though they weren’t from the same neighbourhood, the O’Keegan’s had a name for looking after themselves, the fighting O’Keegan’s they’d been called, people who you didn’t cross but not because they were bigger or tougher but because they just didn’t give up. The O’Keegan’s were like those crazy fighting dogs that would keep fighting no matter how torn up they were. They would keep smashing against their opponent until they either killed them or had their own hearts torn out by sharper more rabid teeth.

  Meehan was also knew that that was Ireland, a small little country where it was easy to make a name for yourself, this was Boston, he had risen to the top in one of the hardest cities in the United States. He was still hungry and strong enough to take his chances. He thought about it and considered he had a pretty good chance of winning but the problem with O’Keegan was that from that point on he would just keep coming back like an eroding wave repeatedly crashing against the rocks until there was little left but sand. Perhaps it wouldn’t be that night if Meehan did the job well enough but O’Keegan would just keep coming. Perhaps the next day or the day after but O’Keegan would not give up until Meehan was worn down enough to lose one of the repetitive barrages or until Meehan had not just knocked him to the ground but had put him in it. It was almost time to play one more card.

  ‘I think that’s an interesting idea but why should I? I already have everything and you have nothing. OK, you have a few guys that jump when you click your fingers. I have more of those people than I even know what to do with. Look around. Why would I bother? If I won, I’d keep what I have. If I lost, I’d lose too much respect with everyone that matters in this town and my own boys and inside of a week, someone would have the balls to put a bullet in the back of my head. Maybe even my Brother over there. What can you offer me that makes the risk worthwhile?’

  ‘Nothing’ O’Keegan said.

  Flannery looked up at both of them. O’Keegan’s ‘nothing’ a surprise. He was expecting something from O’Keegan, even the attempt at a deal or some negotiation, it might still be possible to get a slice without having to go to war, a war they couldn’t win, even Flannery was sure of it, he knew it. Flannery expected some accommodation, perhaps a…‘I’ll get out of town if you win’ or ‘Me and my boys will join you and yours if you win’.

  He was expecting something, anything. But Flannery knew that if O’Keegan lost then he and the rest of them would only have a few hours left anyway. Meehan would never let him join his crew, too much had been said and too many people in Boston were already starting to question Meehan’s hold on his space and his businesses. No, O’Keegan wasn’t prepared to bullshit Meehan, they both knew that if they did take each other on at the event there were just too many people who meant the difference in Boston in the audien
ce. The loser would be gone before the sun made its way back into the Boston streets, most likely dead.

  Meehan leaned forward, putting his hand up to his ear as if he wasn’t hearing right.

  ‘Nothing. That’s what you have to offer? That’s what you have O’Keegan, nothing. You got this one last chance to leave Boston and go back to whatever peat bog you and your family came from. The stench wouldn’t be too bad and you’d still have a nose to smell it with…but that’s rude of me, before I forget, how’s is your family? Your Ma and Pa, OK are they? Proud of their little boy making his way in big old Boston? The fighting O’Keegan’s venturing outside of what ever little village you boys have come from?’ His sarcasm thrust into O’Keegan stomach as he remembered that not a few hours ago his Father had woken up to find himself with a few of Meehan’s old country boys. O’Keegan ignored the feeling that biled in his throat, insisting that he tear out Meehan’s throat here and now. But that was not part of his plan, he expected, if all went well, to walk away from this one with a prize that men took a lot more shit than this to have a chance to get their hands on. O’Keegan ignored the jibe and went on.

  ‘By tomorrow either you or I will be over, we both know that. You don’t have a train ticket for me in your pocket and I’m not expecting you to give me a ride over to the station. We both know that the crowd want a body. They’ve turned their thumbs down and one of us has to die. If someone like me has been able to threaten you then perhaps you’re so invulnerable after all. It’s that simple so no, I have nothing to offer you aside from us settling all questions that have already been raised. The simple fact is that you need something dramatic to stay on top. Even if I turn up dead, those questions have been asked and you need something more than a dead body to show people you still have it. Anyone can pull a trigger, even your Brother over there. So, you do have something to win, you get your life back just as it was before, guaranteed.’