by HD Smith
“What did you find?” Matty asked.
Ronny shrugged. “Nothing much really, just some old hangers, but then we noticed a door behind some old shelves. I mean who puts a door behind shelves?”
Someone that didn’t want it used, Matty thought, but he didn’t say that out loud. Lenny jumped in with more details.
“After we moved the shelves and opened the door, we found stairs that lead to the roof.”
“And you can see into Miller’s from there?” Matty asked.
“Yep,” Lenny confirmed, “and if you’re really quiet you can hear what’s goin’ on too.”
“Cool ... are you sure no one can see us, because I’m with Juli on this one, Mr. Townsend won’t be happy if he finds out.”
“Quit worrying, Juli. Dad won’t find out—okay, I’m pretty sure he won’t find out. They didn’t seem to notice us before. And we weren’t even being careful at first, were we Lenny?”
“No, not at first, not until we realized where the stairs led. I mean have you ever even noticed those windows in the back room?”
Matty thought of the last time he’d been in the back room. “Yeah, you’re right—because they’re covered in black paint.”
Lenny snorted. “Yeah, well they need to be repainted. The paint’s on the outside, so we just scratched away enough to see through.”
Ronny, who’d moved ahead of the group, held up his hand for everyone to stop. They’d arrived at the pub. Matty spotted Freddy the bartender tossing a bag of trash in the dumpster behind the bar. Ronny lowered his hand once Freddy was back inside. Crouching low, he moved quickly toward the back door to the deserted laundry. Matty followed, glancing around one last time before slipping inside the now empty building. He doubted anyone would be watching this place, but he didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to their new hideout. Matty closed the door once they were all inside.
With the exception of a few wire hangers and some trash on the floor, the place had been picked clean. It didn’t look like anyone would ever be back.
“The stairs are over here,” Ronny said, leading them toward a large storage closet in the back.
The door to the stairs had been painted over more than once.
“How did you guys get the door open?” Juli asked exactly what Matty was thinking.
The door creaked as Ronny pulled it open. “Screwdriver,” he said.
Matty tapped Lenny on the arm. “You think your dad will buy this place?”
Lenny shrugged. “No clue. He never tells me anything.”
The narrow stairs were dark, musty, and filled with spiders. Matty swiped away one of a hundred spider webs and coughed as a plume of dust tickled his nose.
Ronny cracked open the door and stuck his head through. Whispering, he said, “Okay, it’s clear—follow me.”
A gust of wind blew through the stairs as Ronny pushed open the door to the roof. It kicked up a cloud of debris, practically coating Matty in a fine layer of dust. He had to hold off a sneeze as it blew past him. He patted his clothes, but gave up when he saw Ronny crouch down and practically crawl across the roof to the far edge of the building.
Matty crept over to the windows and lay flat on his belly like the others.
Jack’s Cleaners shared one wall with the back room of Miller’s Pub. The building that held the laundry was shorter than the building that housed the back room, which was why the large room where Mr. Hill conducted his business could have high windows along the side wall.
The windows were just a few inches above the roof line. From here Matty had a bird’s eye view of the action below. “Wow, you can see everything.”
“Shhh,” Lenny hissed. “We have to be quiet to hear anything.”
Matty didn’t need to hear. He could tell what was going on. He searched the room, but Mr. Hill wasn’t there, only Mr. Townsend. But it wasn’t like Hill needed to be there; this was Townsend’s job after all.
A guy Matty didn’t recognize was handcuffed to the rungs of one of the wooden straight back chairs, which had been moved to the middle of the room. Mr. Townsend was working him over, and it looked like he’d been doing it for a while. Matty winced as Townsend hit the guy in the face, again.
Matty assumed the guy must know something about the stolen packages. Why else would Mr. Hill have Townsend beating him up? Matty scooched a little closer to see if he could hear. Listening, he barely made out Mr. Townsend’s words.
“Now I’m going to ask you this one more time,” Townsend said as he punched the guy in the gut. “Who are you working for?”
The guy coughed and spit up blood. “I told you. I work for Carter.”
“Carter, huh? You’re going to have to do better than that.”
Townsend punched him in the gut again, harder this time. He coughed and wheezed, like he was about to die.
Matty had never seen Mr. Townsend working before. He knew that Mr. Townsend was an enforcer, but knowing and seeing were two totally different things. Matty eyed Juli, who was looking down and away. He clearly didn’t want to watch this guy get pummeled either.
“I’m out of here,” Matty whispered, “I don’t want Hill to catch us.”
Juli looked up, nodding. “I’m with you man. Dad will be really pissed if he sees us.”
“Go if you want,” Lenny said, not taking his eyes off the interrogation below, “but I’m staying.”
“Yeah, I’m staying too,” Ronny said.
Matty picked himself up. “Suit yourself.” He and Juli stayed low as they left the roof.
Matty made sure the alley was clear before he darted out the back door. Juli followed close behind. They were both quiet for a few blocks. Matty was thinking about what he’d seen.
Juli broke the silence. “So who do you think that guy was?”
Shrugging, Matty said, “Don’t know, but it didn’t look like he was going to make it out of there.” Matty thought of the blood the guy had coughed up, and how hard Mr. Townsend had been hitting him. It wasn’t pretty.
Juli kept quiet. He never liked talking about his dad’s job.
“Who’s Carter?” Matty asked.
“I’ve never heard Dad mention him.”
“Well, Mr. Townsend didn’t believe him anyway.”
Juli nodded, but let the topic go.
Matty was sitting inside Demarko’s with Juli finishing a soda, when Lenny and Ronny showed up. Lenny slid into the seat beside Matty while Ronny went to the counter to order a drink.
“What did we miss?” Matty asked.
“Well after you two wussed out,” Lenny smirked, and Matty rolled his eyes, “Mr. Townsend hit him a few more times, then he started talkin’.”
“What did he say?”
Before Lenny could finish, Ronny joined them. He handed Lenny a soda, and sat beside his brother, slurping his own drink.
Lenny took a sip, then continued. “The guy said he was hired by Quinn.”
Matty straightened. “Quinn!”
“Yeah, to put pressure on the top guys in local 183 so they would start taking direction from him instead of Parrish.”
“You’re kidding,” Juli said. “Quinn is trying to muscle in on Parrish’s operation. Is he mental?”
Parrish and Quinn both reported to Royce, the head of the organization. But everyone knew Parrish was the next in line for the top spot. He was Royce’s favorite and would succeed him when the time came.
Juli was right, Matty thought, Quinn was mental if he was trying to edge out Parrish. “Do you guys think Quinn sent the two in the van that jumped me and stole the package?”
“If he’s stupid enough to screw Parrish, maybe,” Juli muttered.
Ronny shrugged. “Dunno, the guy didn’t say anything about that.”
Lenny snorted. “Yeah, and he never will now.”
“What do you mean?” In a whisper, Matty asked, “did Mr. Townsend kill him?”
Juli’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Ronny.
Shaking his head, Ronny s
aid, “No, no. The guy was still breathing when they carried him out.”
“Who?” Juli asked.
Lenny leaned in. “My dad came back after Mr. Townsend finished. He told Reno to drive the guy out to the bridge.”
Matty knew what it meant to be driven to the bridge. No one ever came back from the bridge.
“So who’s Carter?” Juli asked.
“Some Chicago guy,” Lenny said, “but Dad doesn’t think he’s involved.”
Matty took another swig of his drink. “So, what’s going to happen to Quinn?”
Lenny shrugged. “Don’t know. Dad made a few calls, but we couldn’t hear anything so we left.”
“Hey, look,” Ronny pointed toward the street. “There’s Reno.”
Matty spotted the car as it cruised by. Reno was alone.
~#~
On his way home, Matty started thinking about the guy in the chair. The nameless wise guy that fingered Quinn as the mastermind behind a plot to shake up the organization—if any of it was true of course. Either way, nothing was ever going to be the same again.
Like most organizations, the Mob had a hierarchy. Mr. Hill was the top guy in Nowhere, but he had bosses too. The head of the family was Jameson “Jack the Ripper” Royce, by all accounts a true made man. He trusted two men, Parrish and Quinn, to help run the business. Although Quinn was at the same level as Parrish, he’d never been considered a candidate for the top spot—not while Parrish was there to take over if anything ever happened to Royce.
Salvatore “the Priest” Parrish was not particularly religious, but in his youth he was known to read a man his last rights before shooting him in the head. At least that was the story Matty had heard.
Mr. Hill worked for Parrish, but Parrish’s favorite was a man named Logan. James “Jimmy the Cleaner” Logan was a few years younger than Hill, but he’d made a name for himself, which put him in the lead with Parrish. Some said he’d made his name by tracking down an old informant for the FBI. When Logan was done he’d cleaned up the mess so well that the guy, his wife, his handler, and two FBI rookies were now officially listed as missing.
If this were the Royal Family, and not the Irish Mob, the line of succession would be Royce, Parrish, and then Logan, but unlike the Royal Family, a few bad decisions and a couple of murders later and you’d have a whole new ball game. If Parrish fell, Quinn would most likely edge out Logan for the next in line spot. Of course, Royce was known for making unexpected decisions—Logan could move up the ranks and take Parrish’s role, including becoming Royce’s new favorite.
Matty was sure that someone was trying to shift power. They either wanted to become the new boss or make someone else the new boss. But was it Quinn or Logan? Matty didn’t think it was Parrish, because Parrish was only a few years away from the top spot anyway, and already above Quinn in the organization, so it seemed unlikely to Matty that he’d try to frame Quinn.
Matty thought Logan or Quinn were more likely. Of course if it were Quinn he really needed to hire better men—ones that wouldn’t roll over on him. The man Mr. Townsend beat up fingered Quinn, but that could have been Logan’s plan to get Quinn out of the way. That would mean Logan wasn’t done yet. He’d still have to take out Parrish, unless he was trying to take over Quinn’s organization and become Royce’s new second. Everyone knew that Logan was ambitious, but to take power from Quinn’s line, then to take out Royce and Parrish—the only way Logan could secure the top spot—would be very hard and could get very messy.
No matter who was trying to win, Matty was sure things would get worse before they got better. A turf war and a power struggle were going to change his world forever.
Chapter 5
2015
Matt got up early to stop by the office and check on progress. He needed Ryerson’s guys to complete entire sections so his people could start setting up the computers and configuring the network. His team had flown in last night. He planned to meet them at the office this morning.
The elevator dinged, opening onto the Atherton floor. Matt was relieved to see the workers working. He checked his watch. It was 9:30 AM, and at least three sections already looked finished. They’d clearly been on the job for a while, and at this pace they’d be back on schedule within two days. He surveyed the room for Ryerson, and found him near an unfinished section. Ryerson’s body language said it all. Matt approached him and sure enough, as soon as he began to explain to Ryerson that his crew would be starting today, Ryerson crossed his arms over his chest.
As soon as Matt finished, Ryerson threw his arms up in an exaggerated fashion. Ranting, he said, “I don’t know nothing about this. I can’t have my team disrupted.”
Matt tried not to sigh. He wasn’t going to pay them more money. “Mr. Ryerson, this isn’t an issue, and it was on the schedule I emailed you last week when my company took over this project.”
“I didn’t get no schedule. The girls at the office handle the email,” he said, as if that mattered.
“The network team will start in the completed sections, not here where your guys are finishing up,” Matt said, waving a hand toward Ryerson’s crew. “I assure you they will not be in your team’s way.”
Ryerson puffed out his chest. “See that they aren’t, or it’ll add time to the schedule.”
Matt had to nip this in the bud. Ryerson was just blustering. “You’ve already agreed to Friday, and nothing has changed. They won’t be in your way.”
Ryerson grunted, before stomping off.
Matt sighed, shaking his head, then perked up as he spotted his team lead getting off the elevator.
“Stacie, over here,” he called to the brunette woman that was looking around at the chaos with raised eyebrows.
“Wasn’t this part supposed to be done a month ago?” she asked.
Matt chuckled. “A few delays, but they’ll have it done by Friday.”
“Good, I hope it wasn’t too pricey. I see your man in charge over there is looking a bit ruffled.”
“Yeah, that’s Mr. Ryerson. Avoid him if you can.”
Stacie just nodded, continuing to survey the office.
“It looks better today—trust me,” Matt said. He had specifically asked for Stacie to lead the project. She’d lived in New York City for fifteen years and knew how most of the crews operated. “When are the others arriving?”
“They’re downstairs getting coffee,” she said. “Where’s the equipment?”
Matt showed Stacie around the office. When they passed Ryerson for the third time, Matt said, “He and I have already agreed on Friday. Route him to me if he gives you any trouble.”
“Will do.”
Matt greeted the rest of the team as they got off the elevator. He’d decided to stick around to help out for a few hours, after Ryerson cornered Stacie the minute he’d left the office to use the restroom. Matt didn’t want any problems this early in the project.
Rolling up the sleeves of his white L&B button down, Matt wished he’d worn a different shirt. Of course he hadn’t planned to be lugging computers around or crawling under desks. After an hour Matt ran downstairs to grab some snacks for the team. He’d seen a little coffee shop on the corner when he arrived yesterday, and knew it would have everything he needed.
~#~
Ronny Townsend was in New York City today to meet his brother Julian. Ronny was normally in Nowhere, and only came into the city on the rare occasion that Lenny invited him to a meeting with Logan—which was almost never. Julian, who lived in God-knows-where these days, was in town for business. He hated Nowhere, but Ronny had been hounding him since their dad moved to Boca. He hadn’t seen his brother in more than three years, so he was glad Julian finally had business in the city.
Ronny had just placed his coffee order, when a guy in a white button down stepped up beside him. Ronny wasn’t really paying attention to the guy—this was just another one of the eight million people in New York City on any given day—until he overheard the overly-pierced and ta
ttooed cashier gasp.
“Wow that’s a serious lookin’ scar man, what happened?”
Glancing down, Ronny saw the man’s arm just before he started rolling down his sleeve. Ronny knew that scar.
“I got it as a kid, picking up old soda bottles,” the man said, as if he’d repeated this story a hundred times before.
Ronny couldn’t believe it. He was looking at a dead man. But how the hell could this guy be Matty Dunmore? Was this really the kid that disappeared from Nowhere over thirty years ago?
“Hey, dude,” Ronny’s cashier said, waving a five dollar bill in his face. “Your change.”
Ronny narrowed his eyes at the slacker behind the counter and grabbed the money. He stepped away from the counter, into the shadowed alcove near the restrooms, continuing to watch. The guy had stepped back, waiting for his coffee. His hair was on the long side of short, a dark blond with a slight curl to the ends, just like Matty’s had been.
The barista behind the counter called, “Charles,” which was the name Ronny had given when ordering. He ignored the coffee, not wanting Matty get a good look at him. Ronny sported a super close cut these days, but he still looked just like his dad. He was surprised Matty hadn’t noticed him at the counter, but from the back he probably looked like any big guy in a suit. Based on Matty’s body language, it was clear he had no clue that Ronny stood behind him.
It wasn’t long before the barista called out, “Larson,” and the man Ronny believed to be Matty Dunmore stepped up to the counter. He picked up five drinks and two boxes of pastries, which had been packed neatly in a cardboard box. Ronny watched as someone held the door for Larson as he left with his arms full.
Ronny waited a few seconds, then followed his old friend at a discrete distance.
Larson headed into the building next door. Ronny followed him into the lobby. He hung back, but listened when Larson got on the elevator.
“Twenty-four, please,” Matty said to the man that followed him in. Ronny waited for the elevator doors to close, then he stepped into the elevator bay, checking the directory near the call buttons.
Twenty-four was empty—no listing at all. Ronny walked over to the guard that had checked Larson’s ID. The guy was playing on his phone, barely even looking up as tenants passed. He jumped when he saw Ronny looming over his desk.