by Jack Flynn
‘Pimp?’ A full smile broke over the young man’s face. ‘How much you got?’
‘Fuck you!’ Diamond yelled at the young man. She stood up and grabbed her coat.
The suit held out the wad of cash to her, a pathetic, baffled look on his face. ‘How much?’
In one swift, clean motion, Diamond swung her fist hard into his soft belly, dropping him to the floor. He lay there, squirming in pain, moaning. She shot a look at the young man, and he took a step back and held his hands up. ‘Asshole!’ she said.
She turned and walked toward the door.
Daisy Mae peered over the bar at the suit lying on the floor. He was still writhing, animal noises coming from his mouth. He rolled over, and she could see that he was still grasping the bills in his fist. He looked up at her in confusion. ‘But I got cash,’ he moaned, in a desperately wronged voice.
Daisy Mae almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Twenty-One
Cicero Andolini walked through the hospital corridor with his head held high, his shoulders pulled back, and his hand in his pocket grasping his switchblade. There were cops everywhere. He supposed that shouldn’t be a surprise; the fire at the Mariner was the lead story on every local news program, and it was the story that caught the attention of politicians. When politicians get antsy, cops have to look busy.
He recognized several of the cops, and their posture stiffened as they saw him approach the room. One even stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
‘Detective Paley,’ Cicero said with a cold smile. ‘It’s good to see you, I’m sure.’ He held out his hand. The cop just stared at him. He was at least six inches taller that Cicero, but Cicero had never been intimidated by height.
‘No?’ Cicero said, letting his hand slip back into his pocket and onto the blade. ‘OK.’ He stepped to the side to get around the giant cop, but the bigger man cut him off.
‘Get the fuck out of here, scumbag,’ Paley growled.
Cicero stared straight into Paley’s eyes. ‘You need to work on your manners, Detective. I’m here to visit a friend.’
‘Not today. This is an investigation. You need to leave.’
‘An investigation? Led by you? I’m sure that will go well. You already decided who you want to go down?’
Paley reached out and grabbed Cicero by the lapel of his expensive overcoat. ‘You midget wop!’ he yelled. It looked like the big man was about to hit him, but Cicero kept his hands at his sides. Two other cops grabbed Paley and pulled him away.
‘He’s not worth it,’ one of them said. He was young and plain faced. Cicero didn’t recognize him. He looked at Cicero. ‘You should go. He still blames you for his cousin’s murder.’
‘You mean Sean Paley? It wasn’t my till he was skimming from.’
‘I’ll fucking kill you!’ Paley hollered at Cicero, still struggling to get free.
‘Maybe not. You need to leave anyway,’ the younger officer said firmly.
‘Am I under arrest?’ Cicero asked.
The officer shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Is Cormack O’Connell under arrest?’
The officer hesitated, but finally answered. ‘No, he’s not.’
Cicero gave them all a cold smile. ‘Good. Then I’m going in to visit with my friend. From what I heard, he’s had a difficult night. I think he’ll appreciate some support. Not that you all aren’t doing everything you can to get the bottom of this, I’m sure.’
The sarcasm touched Paley off again. He lunged at Cicero, but he was still held back by his fellow officers. ‘Guinea cocksucker!’ he yelled. ‘I swear I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!’
Cicero nodded at the giant, red-faced detective. ‘Detective Paley,’ he said. ‘You have my sympathies on your cousin’s death. My father used to say that if you swim in the Devil’s waters, you shouldn’t be surprised when he reaches up and pulls you under. Your cousin should have kept that in mind. You should keep it in mind, too.’
Cicero stepped around the remaining cops and headed down the hall toward Cormack’s hospital room. Behind him he could hear the commotion as several officers struggled to restrain Detective Paley, who continued shouting obscenities and threats.
Cicero didn’t look back.
* * * * *
‘Thanks for coming.’
Cormack was feeling better. ‘Better’ being a relative term. Two of his ribs were badly bruised, and he had lacerations on his face and hands. Breathing was a journey through a thousand minor agonies. The gunshot wound in his calf oddly hurt least of his injuries. The bullet had passed through the muscle, missing the bones and tendons.
Cicero shrugged. ‘You called me. I came.’
Cormack chuckled, and a wave of pain shot through his core. He grimaced. ‘Not everyone would have showed up. This was an act of war. Soh can’t go back now; he has to take me out. By showing up, you’ve sent a message that you’ve chosen sides.’
‘Not much of a choice, in my book. Soh’s a psychopath.’
‘The same has been said of you.’
‘That may not be totally wrong. But the last thing I need is some other psychopath running things around here. There’s got to be someone providing some stability, otherwise everything goes to shit.’
‘Is that it?’
Cicero raised his eyebrows. ‘Loyalty?’ He shook his head. ‘Look, I appreciate everything you did for me, but if I thought it would be better for me if you were out of the way, I’d put you down myself.’
‘That’s comforting.’
‘It’s honest. If we’re in this together, we need to be honest with each other. I mean totally honest.’
Cormack saw the question in Cicero’s eyes. ‘What do you need to know?’
Cicero stared Cormack in the eyes. ‘Are you up for this?’
Cormack touched his ribs gingerly. ‘These will heal. The doctors say I’m lucky. All of my injuries are superficial. I’ll be out of here today.’
‘I’m not talking about the ribs. Or the cuts, or the gunshot. I don’t have any doubts about you physically.’
‘What, then?’
Cicero’s gaze never left Cormack’s. ‘It’s been a while since you got your hands dirty.’ Cormack started to protest, but Cicero held up his hand and cut him off. ‘I’m not talking about taking a cut of the shit coming through the harbor. I’m talking about gettin’ your hands really dirty. From what I’ve seen, you’ve been relying on your bark for quite some time now. It’s been a while since anyone really saw your bite.’
Cormack sat up straight, ignoring the pain that surged through his body. ‘I’ll have to remedy that, then, won’t I?’
‘Yeah, you will.’
‘I’m good with that. Anything else?’
Cicero shook his head. ‘That’s all I needed to hear. Where are we starting?’
‘On the inside. My people,’ Cormack said. ‘There were only three people who knew I was at the Mariner last night. Cookie, Nate Chaplain and Buddy Cavanaugh. Cookie’s above suspicion. Besides, he’s in the morgue, downstairs.’
‘Where are the other two?’
‘That’s what I need you to find out.’
‘OK.’
‘Cicero, one other thing.’
‘Yeah, Boss?’
‘Now that Soh’s made his move, he won’t just come after me, he’ll come after Diamond, too. You need to make sure she’s safe.’
‘Have you told her about last night yet?’
Cormack shook his head. ‘I was still getting my bearings, and I didn’t want her to see me until there was a little more life back in me.’ He looked down at his hands. They were still white and he could see blue veins running over the bones and sinew. ‘She never asked me specifically about my work, but she knows some, I’m sure. When she sees me, I’m sure she’ll have a lot of questions. I’m still thinking through how to answer those questions. Right now, I just want to make sure she’s safe.’
‘I’ll take care of it.’
Twenty-
Two
Toby White sat at his desk at the union office in Southie, looking out at Boston Harbor. This was his sanctuary – the only place where he felt normal and safe. Out in the world, he was a freak. People stared at his deformities in horror. In here, though – in this office – he was in control. He worked with Cormack to keep the harbor running smoothly. At Cormack’s direction, he oversaw the movements of millions of tons of cargo, and hundreds of men. It was the closest to actual power he would ever come. When he heard about the events of the night before, he realized that he’d almost lost it all. The thought made him physically ill.
It was even colder today than it had been the days before, and the steam came off the harbor in thick white plumes. Toby wondered whether the cold would ever loosen its grip and whether the harbor would ever return to normal. Maybe the cold was so severe that the water would never come to life again. That was the way it felt to him.
The phone rang, and he looked at it for a moment before he answered.
‘Union office,’ he said in his usual, flat tone.
‘It’s me.’ Cormack’s voice came through the phone line as though everything was normal.
‘I thought it would be,’ Toby said.
‘You heard.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘Yeah, I heard. You OK?’
‘I’ve had better mornings,’ Cormack said.
‘Anything I can do?’
‘Yeah, you can make sure everything there gets taken care of. I have other matters I have to attend to for a bit.’
‘I understand,’ Toby said.
‘You tell everyone that when it comes to the traffic on the harbor, you speak for me, you got it?’
‘Yeah, I got it, Cormack.’
‘Don’t take any shit from anyone. People may think that I’m not in control. They may look at you as being too soft because …’ Cormack paused. He was the only person who seemed to be able to treat Toby as though he was a whole person.
‘I understand,’ Toby said, letting Cormack off the hook.
‘You’re not soft, Toby. I know that. Make sure other people know it, too. That’s all I’m saying.’
The steam on the water seemed to have gotten thicker. Toby wasn’t sure he could even see the water’s surface anymore. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he let the silence stretch out.
‘Toby, there’s one other thing I need you to do. It’s about today’s schedule.’ Cormack said.
‘What is it?’
‘I need you to reassign Nate Chaplain and Buddy Cavanaugh.’
‘They’re supposed to be on the Greek freighter, right?’
‘That’s right. I have something else for them to do.’
‘OK, I can arrange that.’
‘Good. And Toby?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Keep this off the books. Understand?’
‘Yeah, I understand.’
The line went dead, and Toby put the phone back in its cradle. He looked out at the harbor again. A down-easter was working the shore, pulling nets up and stripping them of any cod unlucky enough to have strayed into their reach. It didn’t look like he was having much success. Toby wasn’t surprised. After all, what could possibly live in water that cold?
He pushed his chair back from the desk and stood unsteadily on his deformed leg and made his way over to the log that contained the schedule of union workers for the day. He brought the ledger over and scanned it for the contact numbers. He found the information he needed, picked up the receiver. He took a deep breath, and dialed the first number.
Twenty-Three
Diamond could hear the footsteps behind her as she hurried along West Third Street, away from the Naked Eye. He was gaining ground on her, still twenty yards back but getting closer. Then fifteen yards, maybe less. ‘Wait!’ the voice called. ‘Slow down!’
She had to find a place where she wouldn’t be seen.
She saw it a moment later: a narrow alley off to the right, no more than five or six feet wide, cluttered with unwanted bedframes and discarded plastic chairs. ‘Stop!’ the voice behind her called. She knew it was her only chance, and as she drew even with the alley, she darted to her right, through the gap, squeezing around a stack of trash cans and an old recliner that had lost an arm.
The alley seemed to go on for ever – a deep obstacle course built of unwanted odds and ends; a grown-up, blue-collar version of the Island of Misfit Toys. She climbed through and around and over it all, moving quickly as she heard cursing behind her.
At last she came to a recessed doorway, partially hidden by a stained mattress, and she ducked into the cramped space. She tried the door, but it was locked, so she flattened herself against the cold steel and waited. Out of the wind the cold bit less, but small puffs of steam still drifted from her nostrils as she tried to control her heartbeat and her breathing. It was no use, she knew. She was sure that the world could hear the pounding in her chest as she waited there, helpless.
She heard the footsteps approaching; heard the breathing; felt the presence. And then she saw him passing the mattress. It was the young man from the strip club. He was looking the other way, confused and lost. It was her chance.
She sprung from the doorway, launching herself across the narrow space at him. She hit him hard, and he tumbled into the brick wall. He let out a light cry of surprise, and she pressed the attack, grabbing him by his jacket, pushing him up against the wall, keeping her weight against him. Her advantage wouldn’t last long; she could feel the solid build under the jacket, and there was no question that he would recover his senses quickly. But for the moment, he was rubbing his head and getting his bearings.
She put her face up close to his, keeping her elbows on his chest, but pulling his face down so that their noses were only an inch or so apart. ‘You’re an asshole!’ she hissed at him, her eyes conveying the threat, her heart beating out of control.
He looked at her, still recovering from the shock, not yet able to assert himself. And then he gave her a crooked smile and raised his hands in surrender. ‘Guilty as charged,’ he said.
She looked at him for another moment, her eyes still hard, her fists still clenched against the fabric of his jacket collar. The she pulled him even closer and put her lips on his and kissed him deeply, closing her eyes and slipping her arm into his jacket and around his body.
He kissed her back, and brought her body into his. For a few moments, they stood there, lost in each other in the frigid alley hidden in heart of Southie. When the moment was over, he smiled at her. ‘I take it I’m forgiven.’
‘Why the hell would you tell me to meet you at the Eye? It’s a strip club, and I know people there!’
‘It’s the only place I knew your father would never go,’ Buddy said.
‘It would have been easier if we’d told him I was seeing you months ago.’
He shook his head. ‘How do you think he’d react? You’re his precious little girl. You’re smart. You’re gonna go to college eventually. I’m a two-bit dockworker who does jobs for him on the side, and not all of that on the up and up. I’m not exactly the kind of a guy he’s gonna welcome to the family.’
‘Who’s he to judge? He knocked my mother up and then left her because she was a drug addict. I know he’s connected, that much is obvious. We’re not exactly the Kennedys, for Christ’s sake.’
‘All the more reason he won’t want you hanging out with the likes of me. He knows you could make it out of here, if you wanted to.’
‘Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe this is exactly where I want to be, and maybe he should know that.’
He shook his head. ‘This isn’t the life for you, and I’m not the man. You deserve better, and your father knows it. He can’t find out about us.
Diamond thought about her father’s face when she’d told him she was pregnant. She knew Buddy was right. ‘Then why were you calling out to me in the middle of the street? I had to slide into this dump of an alley, or we would have been making out on the
street. If you really want this to be a secret, what the fuck were you thinking about?’
‘I wasn’t thinking,’ he said. ‘I was just worried that you were really pissed at me, and I couldn’t stand it.’
‘I am really pissed at you. And trust me, I’ll figure out a way to punish you.’ She grabbed him and kissed him again, sliding her hand down his tight stomach, over the front of his pants. He let out a low, guttural groan. ‘I suppose you earned some points, though, by taking the day off to spend it with me.’
‘I don’t take that lightly,’ he said seriously. ‘I don’t like not showing up. This is the first time I’ve ever done this.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘What did you tell them?’
‘Nothing yet.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I couldn’t think of anything. The union office has been calling me all morning, but I haven’t picked up. I’ll come up with something. They can’t be too mad; I’m the only one on my crew who hasn’t missed a day ever.’
‘So why’d you agree to play hooky today?’
‘I don’t know. You just sounded … sad. I didn’t want you to feel sad, and I figured I might be able to cheer you up.’
‘Lucky me,’ Diamond said. ‘I get someone to play with for the day. Can we go to your apartment?’
‘My apartment is a shithole.’
‘Your apartment is fine,’ she assured him. ‘Besides, I’d rather be in a shithole with you than a palace with someone else.’ She stuck out her lower lip. ‘Please?’ She didn’t need to plead, she knew. She could tell that her fingers had already been persuasive.
‘I got a better idea,’ he said. ‘How about the Holiday Inn?’
She laughed. ‘They don’t rent rooms by the hour, Buddy,’ she teased.
‘I’m not talkin’ about an hour,’ he said. ‘Let’s get lost for a while. Stay the night. Shut out the rest of the world and pretend we’re really together, for real, out in the open. We could treat it like a mini-vacation.’