by Jack Flynn
Cormack was still looking at Cicero. ‘Retirement,’ Cicero said. ‘Sounds nice.’ Cormack didn’t respond. ‘Of course, you know it’s a lie.’ Cicero folded his arms. ‘He can’t leave you alive. There are too many people who owe you too many favors. There are too many men who are loyal to you. As long as you’re breathing, you’re a threat to him, and he knows it.’
Cormack nodded. ‘I know.’
‘Who in the hell could he be putting in to run the union? Gotta mean he’s got someone on the inside.’
‘Gotta be Buddy Cavanaugh, right?’
‘The men wouldn’t follow him,’ Cicero said with confidence. ‘Not after he betrayed you.’
‘Maybe. I’ve learned that loyalty often follows money and fear. If Soh controls everything along the shoreline, the men may not have a choice.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I haven’t figured that out yet. I know that I’ve got to do whatever it takes to keep Diamond alive, though.’
‘The only chance you have to do that is to take him out. Even then …’ Cicero’s words trailed off as Cormack’s eyes hardened.
‘She stays alive,’ he said. ‘No matter what else happens. Did we get any information out of Suarez?’
‘He’s a hard man to break,’ Cicero said. ‘He’s held out so far. You want me to speed the process up, increase the pressure? It’s a little dangerous. We’ve been very persuasive already. Any more and he may not live through it.’
‘No. If he dies, Diamond dies. We need to make sure he’s alive, at least until we get her back.’
Cormack’s phone rang. He looked at Cicero, and he could tell they were both wondering whether Soh was calling. Cormack looked at the caller ID and shook his head. ‘It’s the office,’ he said. He held the phone up to his ear. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘When?’ He could feel his jaw tighten as he heard the news. ‘OK, keep him there. He’s mine, you understand?’ He hung up and nodded to Cicero.
‘We’ve got work to do,’ he said.
‘What kind of work?’ Cicero asked.
‘They got Buddy Cavanaugh. He just showed up at the union office.’ Cormack stood up and headed out to the car.
‘My favorite kind of work,’ Cicero said, following him out.
Forty-Three
Kit was back at her office. The war between Cormack and T’phong Soh was heating up, and there was no question where her loyalties lay. That fact alone, she knew, meant that her principles had been compromised. As a law enforcement officer, it wasn’t her job to choose sides in a battle like this; it was her job to stop it, and to bring both sides to justice. But the danger posed by Soh and the Carpios was too great to ignore. She knew that Cormack had to prevail.
In order to prevail, though, he had to know where Soh was. Without knowing that, there was little that Cormack could do to bring the fight to his enemy. She was doing anything she could to get that information.
Her phone rang, and she picked up the call. ‘Steele here,’ she said.
‘It’s Damon.’ She recognized the voice of one of the agents on the task force. Kit knew that Soh was no longer using his warehouse in East Boston, but it was the only place she knew to start, so she had posted agents there to watch the place. So far, other than some traffic from low-level MS-13 soldiers, nothing had come of the surveillance.
‘You got something?’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘A van pulled up earlier. Three of Soh’s got out and headed right to a boat on the pier and out into the harbor. They were heavily armed.’
‘So?’
‘So, they had someone with them.’
‘Who was it?’
‘We don’t know. It looked like a woman, but there was a bag over her head. They were dragging her. It all happened too fast for us to do anything.’
‘Where did they go?’ she asked.
‘Who knows? They were headed south, but we couldn’t track them from our position.’
Kit considered the possibilities. She couldn’t think of why Soh would be taking a woman hostage, and she didn’t know whether it had anything to do with his war with Cormack. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Keep up the surveillance and let me know if you see anything else.’
She hung up the phone and looked out the window, down toward the harbor. She wondered where Cormack was, and whether he was making better progress in getting information than she was.
* * * * *
Cormack stood over Buddy Cavanaugh. The young man was tied up, lying on the cement floor of the union offices. His face was bloodied, and he’d been hit in the ribs, but other than that Cormack’s men had left him alone. Looking down at him, Cormack felt nothing but the need for information. The lad was no longer human to him; he was a tool to be used to help win the war that Soh had started – the war that Buddy Cavanaugh had helped Soh start.
Cormack walked over and picked up one of the folding chairs that was leaned against the wall on the far side of the room, brought it over and set it near Cavanaugh, a few feet from the cement wall.
‘Pick him up,’ Cormack ordered.
Hall and one of the other men stepped up, grabbed Buddy under the arms and pulled him to his feet. Cavanaugh gave a slight grunt of pain as his shoulders were pulled back.
‘Put him in the chair.’
The two men walked him over and set him in the chair. Buddy was hunched over, his head hanging down, and it took a moment for him to look into Cormack’s eyes.
‘Cicero, you stay here. Everyone else, head upstairs to the coffee room. Make sure the front door is bolted. We’ll be up shortly.’
Hall and the three other men filed slowly toward the front of the room, then up the staircase. They continually looked back, curious to witness Cavanaugh’s ultimate demise.
Cormack walked back to the stack of chairs and pulled another one off the wall. He brought it over and set it down directly in front of Buddy Cavanaugh. He nodded for Cicero to stand behind Buddy, and then he sat down. The chairs were close enough that if Cormack leaned forward, his head would collide with Buddy’s.
As soon as Cormack sat down, Buddy started trying to talk through the tape. His mouth was sealed shut, and blood had congealed in his nose, so the effort made him gasp and choke, and all that could be heard was a guttural sound from his throat.
Cormack put a hand on Buddy’s shoulder and shook his head. ‘Don’t try to talk, son,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’ He patted the shoulder gently. ‘The time to talk is coming, rest assured. First, it’s my turn.’
Cormack leaned back and took a deep breath. ‘It’s not the betrayal itself that bothers me, Buddy,’ he began. ‘It’s the nature of the betrayal. It’s what you’ve betrayed me for. If you’d hooked up with another legitimate outfit and started to cut into my territory … well, I could understand that. It’s the way our business works. I wasn’t always the boss, which means that I had to remove others to get where I am. In some ways, that’s to be respected.’
Cormack leaned forward, so that he was talking almost directly into Buddy’s ear. He spoke very quietly. ‘But you didn’t do that,’ he said. ‘Instead, you sided with a sociopath. These MS-13 motherfuckers aren’t like us, you understand? You remember what they did to that crippled girl out in Everett? They raped her and then cut her to pieces with machetes. You imagine that? You think that me, or Cicero, or any of those men upstairs would do something like that?’
Cormack shook his head and leaned back in the chair. ‘And Soh is the worst of them. He’s not just MS-13, but now he’s working with the Carpio brothers. You read about Vincente Carpio? The sick fuck who cut the heads off all those people? Well, Soh is working with his brother Javier. He’s now looking to take over the drug trade not just here, but on the west coast. You really want to be in bed with these people?’
Cormack let the silence stretch out for a few minutes. Buddy Cavanaugh started to try to talk again, but Cormack shook his head. ‘Almost, Buddy, almost. I just want you to have a minute to think about what you’ve done. No
w, in a minute, I’m gonna take the tape off your face, and then you’re gonna talk, OK? I’m gonna need to know everything you know. I’m gonna need to know when you were approached, and how. I’m gonna need to know where Soh is, and I’m gonna need to know everything you know about his organization. Cicero here,’ Cormack nodded behind Buddy, ‘is gonna help jog your memory if it becomes necessary. But it’s not gonna be necessary, OK? Just remember one thing, kid, you’re not gonna live through the day, ’cause that wouldn’t be right to Cookie, but we’re not gonna cut your head off and leave it in your lap. And trust me, that’s the direction you’re headed right now.’
Cormack leaned forward and pulled the tape off of Buddy’s face in one clean tug. Buddy let out a shout of pain as it took hair and skin off his face. ‘OK,’ Cormack said. ‘What do you have to tell us?’
For a long moment, Buddy said nothing. His head was down, his hair hanging in his face. Then, at last, he picked his head up and looked directly into Cormack’s eyes. ‘I can’t tell you anything about Soh’s organization,’ he said.
Cormack frowned. ‘Can’t, or won’t?’
‘Can’t,’ Buddy said. ‘I can’t tell you because I don’t know anything. I have no idea what’s going on.’
Cicero’s fist slammed into Buddy’s face from behind, and Buddy’s head fell over to the side, almost taking him off the chair. He managed to straighten himself.
‘You see, the problem with that story,’ Cormack said, ‘is that your friend Nate already ratted you out.’
Cavanaugh looked confused. ‘Ratted me out how?’
‘He said you called Soh as the two of you were leaving the Mariner. He said he heard you tell him, “He’s still there.” So you see why it’s a problem now when you tell me you don’t know anything?’
‘I didn’t call Soh,’ Cavanaugh said. ‘Where’s Nate?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Cicero said. ‘You’ll be seeing him very soon.’
Even through the bruises and blood, Cormack could see Buddy Cavanaugh’s face whiten. ‘It didn’t take much to figure it out,’ Cormack said. ‘You and Nate knew I was there at the Mariner because I told you to meet me. Cookie knew I was there, but he’s above suspicion. And besides, he’s dead. No one else knew I was there. And then you made the phone call when you left. Two and two always makes four, you get it?’
‘I swear to God, I didn’t call Soh,’ Buddy pleaded. Cormack had been impressed with the kid’s composure, but now it was beginning to crack. It was understandable, given the situation.
‘No?’ Cicero said. ‘The boys told us that when they were tying you up, you continued to tell them to tell Cormack you were sorry. Why’s that, if you haven’t done anything wrong?’
‘When they first jumped me, I thought they were pissed because I skipped my shift,’ Cavanaugh explained.
‘You’ve been here, what, three years?’ Cormack asked. ‘More than a hundred men have missed shifts in the last three years. In all that time, you ever seen any one of them take a beating for it? It doesn’t hold up. Why’d you keep telling them to give me your apology after the beating started?’
Buddy looked at the floor.
‘You see what I’m sayin’?’
‘I thought you were pissed about something else.’ He didn’t raise his head.
Cormack looked Cicero. ‘Did they take his phone?’
‘Yeah.’ Cicero reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone. ‘I got it here.’ He handed it over to Cormack.
‘If there’s a record of a phone call from Thursday night right around the time that you left the Mariner, I’m going to have Mr Andolini, here, get a little more persuasive.’
‘I didn’t say I never called anyone, but I didn’t call Soh!’ Buddy screamed. Now there was real terror in his voice.
Cormack touched the phone screen. ‘What’s the security code, Buddy?’ he demanded.
‘I swear to fuckin’ God, I didn’t call him! I’ve never talked to him! You got this wrong!’
‘Only one way to find out, I guess,’ Cormack said. ‘What’s the code?’
‘You can’t do this!’
Cormack nodded at Cicero, and he hit Buddy once in the face and once in the stomach. Buddy was hunched forward again, trying to get the wind back in his lungs. ‘Pick his head up,’ Cormack ordered.
Cicero took hold of Buddy’s hair and pulled his head up and back hard. Buddy’s body resisted involuntarily, still trying to double over in pain.
Cormack pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket and laid it casually on his knee, the barrel pointed loosely in Buddy’s direction. ‘What’s the code, Buddy?’ he asked again in a low, threatening tone.
Buddy’s head was back, his eyes wide with terror. Finally, he said, ‘It’s ten, eleven, ninety-five.’
Cormack gave a weak smile. ‘Your birthday, I presume?’
Buddy tried to nod, but Cicero was still holding his head back by the hair.
‘Makes you a Libra, right? Me too. Libras are known for their fairness. I’m being as fair as I can be here, but my guess is your luck has run out, son.’ Cormack knew from the look on Cavanaugh’s face that he understood he was a dead man. Cormack just hoped he could get some useful information out of him before he put the lad down.
He put in the security code and the phone’s screen popped open, giving him access to all of Buddy Cavanaugh’s phone records, texts and social media. Cormack clicked on the phone icon and scrolled through the list of calls made in the past few days. There weren’t many, and Cormack found what he was looking for almost immediately. It was an outgoing call made at 10.51 the previous Thursday to an unsaved number. It was a short call, lasting exactly eleven seconds. Cormack felt an odd sense of satisfaction at having been right. He turned the phone and showed the readout to Buddy. ‘There you go,’ he said. ‘That’s the call.’
The terror was still in Buddy’s eyes, but there was something odd about it. He was looking at the phone with something that approached longing and sadness.
Cormack looked at the phone log again, trying to figure out whether he was missing something. All of a sudden, it struck him. The number on the phone screen was familiar to him. He frowned; he couldn’t think of any reason he would be familiar with T’phong Soh’s phone number. Was there any way that he had ever called the man? He didn’t think so.
The realization downed slowly and terribly. It wasn’t Soh’s number. He knew the number from somewhere else.
But it couldn’t be …
His frown turned into a scowl, and he clicked on the phone screen to see Buddy’s texts. The same phone number was there as well, with a long string of texts, some of them explicit in nature – too explicit for Cormack to keep reading. All of a sudden, the feeling of satisfaction turned into rage.
He took the gun in his hand and pointed it at Buddy Cavanaugh’s head. The boy’s expression turned from terror to resignation, and he closed his eyes, ready to accept his death. Cormack reached out and grabbed Buddy by his jacket, lifted him off the chair and threw him into the wall. Cormack caught him by the throat and held him against the wall with his left hand, pointing his gun at his forehead with his right hand. Cicero raised his eyebrows in surprise, but knew enough not to speak or interfere.
‘You’re the bastard!’ Cormack screamed at Buddy.
Buddy tried to raise his bound hands to his face to protect himself, but Cormack drove the gun into his gut, taking the wind out of him again. He gasped for breath for a moment before choking out, ‘I love her,’ in a barely audible tone.
Cormack held Buddy’s neck, pushing him hard against the wall, his rage ebbing slightly, but not enough to overcome the urge to pull the trigger. ‘You’re the father?’
The question caught Buddy Cavanaugh completely off guard. He frowned and tilted his head at Cormack, the confusion plain on his face. ‘Father?’
‘Fuck. You stupid bastard,’ Cormack said.
Now the realization dawned on Buddy’s face, and his expression c
onveyed a thousand different emotions. After a moment, all he could manage was to repeat himself with more vigor. ‘I love her.’
Cormack stepped back slightly and considered Buddy’s words and his expression. He wasn’t convinced the young man was lying. He raised his gun to Buddy’s forehead again. This time there was no resignation in his eyes. He met Cormack’s hostile stare evenly.
Cormack pulled his fist back and punched Buddy in the face. The young man was out before he hit the ground. Cormack looked at him lying on the cement and considered his options. The thought of Buddy defiling his daughter kept running through his mind, and he wondered whether he would ever get past it. He aimed his gun twice toward Buddy’s unconscious head before putting the gun away and turning around and heading back toward the staircase up to his office.
‘You want me to take care of him, boss?’ Cicero called after him.
Cormack paused. ‘No Cicero. He’s not working with Soh, and he didn’t betray me. At least not in that way.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, I can’t kill him. He’s going to be the father of my grandchild – if we can get Diamond back. I’ve got to reach out to get some help.’ Cormack continued on, walking up the staircase without another word.
Cicero looked at Buddy Cavanaugh’s unconscious body splayed out on the cement floor. ‘Fuck me,’ he said. Then he reached down to gather him up and try to revive him.
Forty-Four
She met him on the boardwalk that ringed Pleasure Bay, just to the south of Castle Island, where generations of Boston’s working class came to sun themselves during the summer. The beach carved a perfect semi-circle from Fort Independence to UMass Boston, and the waters were protected by the Harbor Islands. The James Curley Recreational Center and Bathhouse separated the boardwalk from the bustle of South Boston’s residential neighborhood, only a few blocks from Cormack’s home on L Street. It was huge, and ornate, and a testament to one of Boston’s most popular and corrupt mayors from the last century. From June to September the place was awash with sunbathers and swimmers, and those who came down just to take in the sights or walk out to the fort.