41

TOM HAD MIXED feelings about what he was about to do. He knew it might be smarter to take a more prudent course, but just then he didn’t give a shit for prudence. He got off the police wagon in front of the New Brighton, and six officers with shotguns got down after him, fanning out and covering the entrances and exits. Two followed him when he entered the dance hall. He hoped to find McManus there, but suspected he wouldn’t. Jack was stupid, but not so foolish as to keep to his usual haunts now.

Though there was little actual proof that he’d had anything to do with Mike’s shooting, Tom wasn’t waiting for proof. Saturn’s vague recollection and the coincidence of the two assaults were enough for him. If he had any luck, he’d sort it out with McManus cuffed to a chair in the precinct basement. Otherwise, he’d at least send a message that would be heard loud and clear across the Lower East Side. Within a day all of gangland would know that Captain Braddock was on the warpath. McManus would have a price on his head, officially or not, and be as likely to fall victim to one of his own as to Braddock himself. Tom felt it was a no-lose situation, though venturing into a place like the New Brighton the way he did had more than its share of risks.

He stood at the door for a moment, the two officers at his back, shotguns held conspicuously. The toughs and bouncers gave way and Tom walked through the raucous crowd of gangsters and their molls. The band continued playing, the piano tinkling gaily, the dancers prancing about with abandon, the smoke from a hundred cigarettes swirling like cream in coffee. Tom went to the back, where Paul always sat, a couple of fireplugs with bowlers glowering on either side.

“A dramatic entrance, Tommy,” Kelly said. “Surely old friends can dispense with such histrionics.”

Tom pulled out a chair and sat across from Paul. They didn’t meet more than once or twice a year and then only on sensitive business, usually as much political as it was financial. They never met openly like this either, a definite departure from protocol.

“Good to see you, Paul,” Tom said. He motioned to the bodyguards, who disappeared with a confirming nod from Kelly. “I want McManus.”

“Just like that?” Kelly would have been shocked if he’d said anything else. Still he was amazed at how Braddock had put the pieces together and come up with Jack, wondering how he could have done so that quickly without some inside help.

“Just like that, Paul. I’m asking you to give him up,” Tom said, not patient enough to tiptoe around the subject.

“With shotguns? Here? You insult me in my own place, Tommy. This could have been handled another way.”

“Bullshit,” Tom said in a low growl. “You know my son’s been shot. McManus had something to do with it. You don’t know how fucking insulting I can be. I haven’t even started.”

“My sympathies, Tommy,” Paul said, meaning it. Having no personal or business reason to see Mike hurt, he could afford sympathy.

“Thanks. Looks like he’ll be okay,” Tom said. “I have no reason to believe you had anything to do with it, so I’m asking nice. McManus has to come in. He doesn’t, then the next time I ask, it won’t be so nice.”

“All stick and no carrot, Tommy? Not really your style.”

“Yeah, well I lost all my style when Mike got shot.”

“I understand. But you may get farther with a reward. The men he associates with are all too often motivated by money, Tommy, or the lack of it. I honestly don’t know where the fuck McManus is. He hasn’t shown in two days. A wad of green might pry up the rock he’s under.”

“A grand,” Tom answered. “And another if I find out he was the shooter.”

Kelly looked at his fingernails. “I’ll spread the word, Tommy. No guarantees though.”

“Didn’t expect any. Sorry to disturb the festivities,” he said and strode back out through the parting sea. The heavies with the shotguns followed him out, one backing through the door, the other checking the street before they walked to the wagon. They climbed aboard and rolled away slowly, shotguns sticking out at the sides like cannons on a battleship. Jeers followed at a safe distance and a bottle broke on the cobbles behind, but they left without firing a shot.

*   *   *

Kelly sat sipping scotch and thinking for some time after Tom left. He was not about to give up McManus, not alive at least. Jack had to render a service first and it would be useful to let him think that that would be his redemption for the mess he’d made. He would have to alert Jack to Tom’s suspicions though and warn him to keep well out of sight. Having him dragged in now would not do at all. He decided to keep McManus happy and well financed until he took care of his plan for the Slocum. He could not stand to have Big Tim steal the ship out from under his nose. The Slocum would have to be made worthless to him. Once Jack accomplished that, Braddock could have him, or what would be left of him.