Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zach left Chen to supervise the plant and headed to South Street. Flanigan’s was typical of many oyster bars on the waterfront and busy with the lunchtime crowd. Zachary’s eyes adjusted to the dim interior, his stomach growling for a quick half-dozen and a glass of beer.
In case Fiona was unsuccessful in contacting Maguire, Zachary placed his few remaining coins on the counter and gave the bartender a conciliatory smile.
In a flash, the money disappeared as if it were an insect and the bartender’s fingers like the darting tongue of a chameleon. “I’m looking for Patrick Maguire.”
The bartender’s eyes flashed wide. “Don’t know the fella and I don’t want any trouble.”
Zachary slapped a couple of dollar bills on the shiny wood surface.
“Yes, sir.” By magic, the money disappeared and so did the bartender.
Since there were more customers than stools at the long counter, Zachary was shown to a small table beside a window.
He ordered a dozen oysters and a mug of beer.
He sat where he could see everything and waited.
His Stetson was probably the only one he saw in the place.
Some of the patrons were laborers in the nearby fish market, or men who worked on the ferry pier a few steps away. They wore caps.
Zachary glanced at his watch, hoped he didn’t have to wait long.
If he had heard the legend right, the mention of Maguire’s name scattered the worst of criminals and caused children to hide beneath their beds shaking with night terrors.
Did the bartender take off with his money?
He downed another oyster and picked up his hat.
A huge racket echoed from the back of the pub. Loud whispers, then shouts rose with people pointing fingers, grabbing their caps, abandoning their lunches and heading out the other exit. Did a fight break out? He tilted his head back.
With his derby pulled low, a burly mountain of a man boasting biblical proportions with a hulking, beefy neck, shoulders as wide as a ship shoved through the melee. A descendent of the Nephilim? Goliath?
When the man lifted his head, Zachary choked on his beer. Patrick Maguire? What were the odds? This was the head of one of the largest gangs in New York City?
Patrick was not one to cross. Easily recognized, he didn’t need to elbow his way through the rest of the crowd for everyone darted away like a shoal of terrified fish.
Maguire and Zachary owned a rough history.
Years before, Maguire had worked under Zachary on the railroads.
Fierce prejudice and hostilities had been set against Zachary, a southerner, and manager, causing delays and vanishing supplies.
Zach realized early on the unbreakable supremacy the Irishman held over the crew.
It was Zachary and Chen who risked their lives to rescue the obstinate Irishman and his friends from the Cheyenne. Afterwards, there had been a mutual respect between the two men. No more stealing or delays. In fact, they finished ahead of time.
Unsolicited, a waiter brought a large platter of oysters to the table, crackers and a pot of horseradish, and two old-fashioned pewter tankards of ale. He disappeared like a mule with his tail afire.
“First things first,” said the big Irishman, taking his measure and plunking himself down on the chair across from Zachary. “I want to know who the devil Daniel O’Reilly is.”
Zachary frowned. The topic was far from what he had on his mind, and why the interest in his lead engineer? “Why do you ask?”
“The Mick is dating my sister.”
“Fiona’s your sister?”
The Irishman stood up. “You have a problem with that?”
“Not at all. I offer you my sincere compliments.” Zach made a study of his mug. He couldn’t have been more surprised if Maguire had said he was the eighteenth-century Chief Executioner of the guillotine.
Daniel had taken a liking to Fiona, and as far as Zachary could tell the shared attraction had blossomed into a full-blown romance.
Zachary took a sip of ale and eyed Maguire over the brim of his mug.
“He’s a good man if you are worried. Loyal and will care for her.
If I can get my company off the ground, he’ll be a rich man. ”
Zachary shucked an oyster with his knife. “He’s also my key man. The most brilliant mechanic and engineer I’ve ever met. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
Maguire filled his mug of ale with shucked oysters and drank. “Don’t get your bowels in an uproar. As far as your compliments on my sister, the thought might be more of a curse. Concerning O’Reilly, your word is good enough for me. Don’t want a jackeen sniffing around Fiona.”
Maguire protected his sister.
“Ever heard of a man named Rawlins Dyer?” Zachary asked.
“I have. What’s more, I think you know that I do.”
“You know a lot about what goes on, don’t you, Maguire?”
“Keep my ears open.” Maguire took a long draught of beer, wiped his face with his meaty fist. Those were fists Zachary had gone up against a time or two, and didn’t desire to repeat with Maguire being a down and dirty pugilist from the city.
Zachary had been weaned on southern boxing with bouts in haylofts and tutored by the famous prizefighter, Boxing Billy, and then continued to be knocked down by his brothers until he was weaned to their standards.
The bang of the bow thumping the dock heralded the arrival of the Brooklyn ferry.
A few men went out to meet it. The window was steamed with warm breath and Zachary used the side of his wrist to scour a clear space.
The glass was crusted with salt spray, and he could barely make out the crew securing the mooring lines, and beyond them, on the opposite shore, the rising tower of the audacious bridge most claimed would make the ferry obsolete.
“I hear you had a little problem with the Whyos.”
“A bit,” said Zachary.
Maguire laughed. “You are up against the most powerful group in the city. Very organized. Extortion, prostitution, murder for hire. They have some of New York’s finest. Hoggy Walsh, Red Rocks Farrell, Clops Connelly, and everyone’s favorite, Dandy Dolan.
He wears a copper eye gouger on his thumb, takes out people’s eyes, and then dazzles his friends with his eye collection. ”
Zach leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Is that supposed to make me afraid? They haven’t met the Comanche or Sioux.”
Maguire eyed him over the rim of his beer stein. “That’s the good news.”
“What’s the bad news?”
Maguire cracked his neck. “Enough to bury you, my friend. If you know what I mean.”
Zach splayed his hands. “Enlighten me.”
Maguire took a long swallow of ale. “Tell you a story…but I’m sure you know the rest. Your friend Dyer has bankrolled you.
If you don’t finish on time…he withdraws financial support.
You can’t pay him back. Especially with the damages you’ve just incurred.
You lose your patent. You lose everything.
He takes the patent and with his unlimited resources builds your invention and makes a ton of money.
Dyer is your enemy. He bankrolled the Whyos. ”
“It’s what I guessed. I’m looking for security. I need guards at the factory. How much compensation do you require?” asked Zach. He was digging himself a hole.
“You saved my life. What’s more, I won’t hear the end of it from my sister unless I help you. For now, nothing until you get back on your feet. Then you can pay me.”
“What do you have available?”
“My men are as tough as any to be found in the city. You’ll never find them in church, but they are loyal to me and you can trust them absolutely. Anything else?”
“I’d prefer them armed.”
“My men carry pistols, Mr. Rourke. Latest model Colts. Some of ‘em got rifles. And they’re all sharpshooters. We’re a match for anything that’s out there.
Fists or knives or billies or broken bottles, even sharpened teeth…
none of it can compete with bullets. I’ll have men guarding the foundry and any shipments you require. ”
An Irish army. This was exactly what Zachary needed.
Maguire bottomed out his mug in one gulp, slammed it down and rose. “We’ve had a few disagreements with the Whyos that haven’t been settled. My men are bored and looking for a good fight.”
Zach made it back to his factory, thinking about his conversation at Flanigan’s.
Maguire had not informed him of anything he didn’t know.
Dyer was behind everything. Zach was new to the city and didn’t have a clear idea how to maneuver with the many factions.
He was learning quick. At least now, he’d have security he could count on.
With Maguire’s gang behind him he felt confident, playing along with the baddies. For the Irish, they loved a good fight. The bigger the dust-up, the more it suited them.
Shawn came up beside him. “Come, my brother, oracle. What does your future bring?”
“Only that my plans are not on hold. Full steam ahead. Devil take the hindmost.”
Shawn was quiet for a moment, then said, “Sounds impressive, Zachary, but you’re venturing into unexplored territory. Keep in mind what the old sailing charts used to say. Unknown waters, here there be demons.”
“Then I’ve hired the worst of demons.”
O’Reilly came up beside them, pointed with the stem of his pipe.
“Thrown into the clutches of Dyer is like being thrown into the clutches of Cerberus. If I had one-thousandth of the cash he doesn’t need, I’d deviate my life to honing limericks, and enchanting with my charm, feeding little cooing mourning doves from my hand.
” He nodded his head. “See the men, all of them are eating Ms. Li’s food. ”
Zachary let out a low whistle. The Irish were eating Lian Li’s food and raving about it.
Zach did a double take. The Chinese and the Irish were picking up the rubble, sorting through what they could salvage.
Both factions working together? He had asked for a sign.
The miracle seen for his eyes and ears was the proof he needed of the divine, an intelligent and good universe.
Out of the apocalypse came the bindings of the human spirit, yet with all the destruction they appeared defeated.
“I want to speak to you men.” He had dozens of eyes locked on him. He must purge the shadow of negativity.
Zach planted his feet wide. “We have had a setback. But a setback is the beginning of a great comeback.” Zach scanned every man in the crowd, letting his breathy southern vowels nip at awkward angles of the strident northern voices all around him.
Waiting for his words to do their job and all the combined attention back to where he stood.
“United. That word should have new meaning for us today. We can’t be consumed by petty differences anymore.
We will be united in common interests. We are fighting for our right to live, to prosper, to exist. We will not give up without a fight. We will survive and we will rebuild.”
The men hooted and hollered.
“That’s what I want to hear. Let’s get back to work men.”
The problem was obtaining financing from another source before Dyer closed on him.