Chapter Twenty-Three
Early November was colder than usual, but with no snow in sight it was a good day for Ranahan Construction crews.
With genuine pride and satisfaction, Michael stood in the doorway of his warehouse and watched his seven wagons and thirty-five men start out for their respective sites. After eighteen months, he still could scarcely believe he was the owner of his own construction company. He was getting so much work that he was thinking of taking on a few more men and perhaps even another wagon. He would never tell Cully, but his ability to get along with real estate men, builders, and other contractors was largely responsible for the increase in new projects.
As Michael watched the last wagon disappear into the heavy traffic of Pearl Street, a heavy-set young man dressed in the ill-fitting clothing of a dandy approached.
“Is it Mr. Ranahan?” he asked with an oily smile.
“I am.”
“Tommy Walsh says to say hello.”
“Is it a job you’re looking for?” Michael asked, dubiously eyeing up the chubby man. One look told him he wouldn’t last a day in construction.
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I have a position at Tammany Hall.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“You know election day is just three days away?”
Michael’s stomach knotted. He knew this moment was coming, but it was not something he was looking forward to. Since that contentious election in 1851, when he stood on the steps of the Eighth Ward Headquarters to deny Butcher Bill and his Bowery Boys access to the ballot box, elections had been routine and uneventful. There was no need for the extra muscle of the working-class Irish. But this year was different. Fernando Wood was running for mayor and he was opposed by a determined coalition of nativists, Know-Nothings, and Whigs.
Michael turned around. “Come into my office.”
He sat behind his desk and eyed the smiling young man. “What is it you want of me?”
“I’m sure you know this is going to be a very important election for Tammany. There’s a bunch of people in this city that don’t want Mr. Wood to be mayor.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“So, Tammany will require the services of you and all your men on election day.”
Michael took a breath before answering. “I can’t do that.”
The young man’s eyes bulged, as though Michael had said that he was personally running against Wood. His jovial mood suddenly changed. “What the hell do you mean, you can’t do it? You have to.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help Tammany this year. I have several contracts that are on deadline. If I don’t complete the work by the contractual date, I face a financial penalty I can ill-afford.”
The man’s face reddened and he slammed his ham fist down on Michael’s desk. “I don’t give a flying fuck about your financial penalty.”
“You don’t have to,” Michael said, trying his best to remain calm. “But I do.”
The enraged man glanced around the warehouse. “It would be a shame if your warehouse should burn down.”
Michael lunged across the desk and grabbed the surprised man by his lapels. “If that should ever happen,” he hissed, “I will come looking for you and, I swear to God you will end up floating in the East River.” He yanked the man to his feet. “Now get out.”
As one of Tammany’s men, he was unaccustomed to being treated this way. In confusion, he smoothed his gaudy suit and pointed a shaky finger at Michael. “I’ll be sure to tell Tommy Walsh what you said.”
“You do that.”
For a long while after the man had gone, Michael sat his desk shaking with rage. After he calmed down, he glumly considered the ramifications of what he had just done. He had defied Tammany and there would be a price to pay. The only question was: how big a price?
The election of 1854 was indeed violent and accompanied by the usual chicanery. In the end, Fernando Wood won by four thousand votes more than there were voters. It was rumored that the day before the election, the Dead Rabbits combed the city’s cemeteries for names to add to the voter rolls.
Lying in bed on a cold blustery night in early March, Michael turned to Emily and said, “I’m thinking of expanding the business.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I’m getting more business than I can handle. I’m thinking if I buy a few more wagons and hire a few more men, I can really increase the value of the business. We’ve talked about buying our own home. If I can bring in more contracts, we’ll be able to do that in a year or so. I’m going to talk to Mr. Hainsworth about getting another loan.”
“It’s funny that you should mention a loan. With all the additional students coming to my classes, the parlor isn’t big enough. I think it’s time to move to a location outside of the house. Do you think your loan could cover the expense of renovating the space and buying desks and chairs?”
“I don’t see why not. Of course, we’ll have to find a suitable location.”
“I already have. I’ve found a wonderful location over on Sixth Avenue.”
Michael squeezed his wife’s hand. “Aren’t you the resourceful one?”
She kissed him. “Well, I’ve got to keep up with you, don’t I?”
Charles Hainsworth motioned Michael into a comfortable leather chair. “I haven’t seen you since we negotiated the loan to buy your business. How are Mrs. Ranahan and your two children?”
“Actually, there are four now. Peter is two and Claire is almost six months.”
“So, you have quite the growing family.”
“I do.”
“And how is your business coming along?”
“It’s grand and I’m thankful for that. In fact, I have more work than I can handle. And that’s why I’ve come to see you. I’d like another loan.”
“Well, you certainly couldn’t have picked a more propitious time. Our fair city is thriving. Manufacturing and transport sectors are expanding in leaps and bounds. As you are certainly aware, everywhere you look buildings are going up. New York City is quickly becoming the premier city in the world.”
The banker opened a cigar humidor and offered Michael a cigar, which he declined.
Hainsworth sat back and exhaled a cloud of smoke that surrounded him like a blue halo. “What do you want the funds for?”
“Two things, Mr. Hainsworth. Right now, I have seven wagons and thirty-five men working for me. I would like to buy another three wagons and hire another fifteen men.”
The banker nodded. “That seems reasonable given the building boom in the city. What was the other thing?”
“My wife’s French classes have been taking on more and more students and there’s not enough room in our house to accommodate them all. We found a suitable space in a building on Sixth Avenue. We would have to renovate the space to suit Emily’s needs. And we would have to furnish it with desks and chairs.”
“It sounds like you’ve thought this through.”
“I have. But to tell you the truth, I’m terrified at the thought of taking on an additional loan. What would be your advice?”
“Of course, I will have to examine your books to ensure a loan is feasible. As I explained to you the first time, a bank wants to be assured that it’s paid back. In the unlikely event of a default, the bank would be forced to seize your assets to recoup the cost of the loan. Having said that, it’s clear that you are a responsible businessman. As for your wife’s French classes, I hear nothing but praise from my wife and daughter, who, by the way, speaks French flawlessly now. My advice, Mr. Ranahan, is to take the loan.”
When Michael got home, Emily was feeding baby Claire and the other three children were playing a game with Letta.
“How did it go?”
Michael kissed his wife. “He’ll have to look at the books, but he doesn’t see a problem. There’ll be enough money to buy the extra wagons and hire the men.”
“And my school?”
“That, too. He speaks very highly of you.”
Emily hugged him. “I’m so proud of you, Michael.”
Michael took a deep breath. “Mr. Hainsworth thinks it’s a good idea, but still, what if I can’t pay the loan?”
“You will, Michael, you will.”