Chapter 90 - Where Is It
"So, you're saying you helped him because he was staggering around drunk?"
"That's right."
"You're really something."
Ted whipped his head around and glared fiercely at Anthony.
"Is that true? You weren't planning anything with my innocent nephew, were you?"
Anthony pulled a face as if he'd just bitten into something nasty, then waved his hand as if he couldn't be bothered with any of this.
"He's telling the truth, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just let me go now."
"Where are you going at this hour?"
"Where else is a lone wolf supposed to go?"
He looked to be mid-twenties at most.
Without so much as glancing at me, Anthony walked away from the boarding house.
Watching his retreating figure, I asked Uncle Ted,
"Who is he?"
"He's from Chicago. He's staying here for personal reasons. Ciaran, he lives in a different world than you do, so there's no need to be curious."
"Just one thing. My maternal grandfather mentioned sometimes getting a headache over the rent—does he at least pay his rent on time?"
Ted shook his head with a laugh
"Anthony only pays half the rent. In exchange, he collects the rent from the other tenants. That's why I brought him here."
So, Anthony handles the rough and dirty task of collecting rent, and in return, only pays half his own. It actually seems like a pretty reasonable arrangement for dealing with the hassle.
But still, is Anthony really that dangerous?
That just makes him even more interesting.
Contrary to his appearance, Anthony actually gets along decently with Ted and my maternal grandfather.
And most notably, the fact that he's from Chicago caught my attention.
During Prohibition, Chicago was the place where Al Capone made his fortune.
I don't have any connections there yet.
"By the way, Uncle Ted, which precinct do you work out of?"
"Me? Harlem."
Upper Manhattan—Harlem.
During the American Revolutionary War, the British burned Harlem to the ground.
Because of that, its development lagged behind other neighborhoods, but after the Civil War, when the New York & Harlem Railroad and the IRT came in, the area began to truly develop.
It was always a poor area, so most residents were Italian and Jewish immigrants.
Recently, the Black population has been increasing rapidly, but they still only make up about 10%, and even those numbers are concentrated in Central Harlem.
"Isn't it dangerous working in Harlem?"
"I don't think you're one to talk—you live in the LES. Sure, crime in Harlem is getting worse, but it's still better than the LES."
Sometimes I forget that I live in the LES—the Lower East Side—which is the worst crime zone in Manhattan. Uncle Ted simply laid out the difference between Harlem and the LES.
"If the crime is organized and violent, it's the LES. If it's more individual and petty, that's Harlem. There's no major gang presence here yet."
The Sicilian Gang's influence is widespread, but Harlem isn't really their turf.
"It's freezing out. What are you guys talking about out here?"
Derrick, my uncle-in-law who works as a cigarette salesman, showed up with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
"Ciaran, you don't smoke?"
"Underage smoking is illegal in New York."
Of course, Uncle Ted the cop had to chime in.
But then he chuckled and offered me a cigarette anyway.
"Come on, like I'd bust my own family. Go ahead, have one."
"I actually don't smoke."
"Really? How about drinking?"
"I don't do that either."
Ted and Derrick grinned and gave me a thumbs up.
"You really grew up right."
"Your mom is a bit scary, you know. She used to beat me up a lot when I was a kid. If you ever feel suffocated or stressed, just come hang out with your uncle. I get it, trust me."
I'm not sure what he means by "getting it"—I think Ted and I have different ideas about my mother. Where else could you find a strong woman as gentle and caring as her?
Derrick asked,
"By the way, Ciaran. I'll be in the LES this week—will you be at the store during the day?"
"Yes. If you don't see me, just talk to one of the staff."
"Okay. Let's grab lunch, then."
There was a brief silence.
It seemed like the two of them had something to talk about, so I headed upstairs first.
As I was going up the stairs, I could vaguely hear their conversation.
"Any new bars opened up in Harlem lately?"
"If there were, I would've told you right away. Why, is business not going well these days?"
"It's not just the business—it's the thefts, too. Damn it, it's so frustrating I can't stand it anymore. Just a few days ago, someone even fired a gun in Hell's Kitchen."
Derrick loads goods into his car himself and delivers them directly to his clients.
Cigarettes, in particular, are easy to turn into cash, lightweight, and easy to steal, so cigarette salesmen often become targets for robbers.
"Maybe I should get into the lottery business or something, damn it. I heard a lot of people are doing that in Harlem these days, right?"
"The Black folks are losing their minds over that stuff. I guess it's really making money—thanks to that, I'm getting a little grease myself."
"Grease" is slang for bribes. In other words, Uncle Ted was a corrupt cop taking bribes from lottery operators.
"Think I could run a lottery business myself?"
"Without someone looking out for you, it'd be tough. Even in Harlem, competition's fierce, even though it's mostly Black folks doing it."
"Nothing's ever easy, huh."
"Just stick with what you're doing. Are you going to ditch all the accounts you've built up until now? Catherine would probably come after you."
"Yikes, scary. It's suddenly getting cold. Let's go inside."
I, too, who had been standing midway on the stairs, started to move.
Without meaning to, I'd just had one of my long-held questions answered by listening to their conversation.
Now I understood why my mother had turned a blind eye to my crimes and compromised so quickly.
I'm guessing that while my maternal family values their Irish heritage, pride, and traditions, they're not particularly moral, nor do they make a big deal about it.
Ted and Derrick are the same.
And my maternal grandfather, who sends that rough-looking Anthony to collect rent, isn't exactly ordinary either.
Thunk.
"Anyway, if anyone messes with your truck, just shoot them. Larry, now that you're a manager, if the guys under you don't listen, don't hesitate to come down hard on them."
"I've already spotted a few who disrespect me. Did they really think I'd just let it go?"
"You have to make sure you get your revenge, or else people won't take you seriously."
Looks like Uncle Noah and Uncle Larry have a knack for trouble, too.
May the family become a true Family.
Seeing them all gathered together like this fills my heart with pride.
Fortunately, Derrick and Catherine live right next door, so everyone split up and went to bed in two houses.
And the next day
We rushed through breakfast as if it were a military meal, and I was chatting with my cousins when Anthony knocked on the door.
"What brings you here? And what's that you've got in your hand?"
"I got some bread since I owed a favor for yesterday."
"Who helped you out?"
Anthony pointed at me with a meaningful look, then gestured for me to come with him for a moment.
Trying to lure me out with bread, is he?
As soon as we stepped outside the front door, Anthony's expression changed completely.
"Who are you, really?"
"I could ask you the same thing. What were you doing in Chicago?"
"Shut up. I can tell just by looking in your eyes. You've killed someone before, haven't you?"
Anthony stared intensely into my eyes.
When I stepped forward and brought my face closer, he backed away just as much.
"You said you live in LES, right? Are you in a gang or something?"
"So, since you're talking about gangs, are you in a Chicago gang?"
"Not at all. I work alone."
All the better, then.
"If you're looking for work, come find me. I'm involved in some interesting business."
I pulled out two business cards from my pocket and handed him one.
"..... a lingerie store? Are you kidding me?"
"I thought you could tell by looking in my eyes. Does it look like I'm joking?"
Anthony narrowed his eyes.
"So, what's your name?"
"Ciaran."
After pocketing the business card, Anthony continued.
"I'll be heading back to Chicago soon… but I'll stop by before I go."
"Then who's going to come collect the rent here?"
"How should I know."
Anthony snapped, turning his back to me.
Then, almost as if to himself, he went on.
"I've made things clear, so there won't be any idiots daring to fall behind on their rent. And old man—no, your maternal grandfather—he's not someone you can mess with that easily."
"I see. Oh, I almost forgot something."
Anthony glanced back at me.
"What?"
"Merry Christmas."
"...What the—are you a psycho?"
With that, Anthony disappeared up the stairs.
"I can't tell you how happy I am to have everyone together like this. From now on, we should gather every Christmas, all right?"
"Don't worry, Mom. Even if it's not Christmas, we'll visit often."
After my maternal grandmother and mother said their goodbyes, we parted ways with the family.
My mother, having mended her relationships, looked happy the entire way home.
Roa and Liam, both having met their cousins in a different way than I did, were cheerful as well.
"I almost lost Teddy, but honestly—this was the best Christmas ever for Roa!"
Hugging Teddy tightly, Roa said she wished every day could be Christmas.
As Roa started listing each cousin's name one by one, Liam would correct her if she made even the slightest mistake.
"It's Ruth, not Ross. And it's Sinead, not Tornado."
"Yeah, that one. On Aunt Anna's side, it's Jesse, Andrew, and Delvin."
"Devon."
"Yeah, that one."
I couldn't keep any of them straight, honestly. Fortunately, my younger siblings seem to have better memories than I do.
On the way home, my mother, perhaps still a bit concerned about my police officer uncle, asked me cautiously.
"Did you have a chance to talk with Ted?"
"Of course. It felt great having such a dependable uncle around."
"Do you think things will be good going forward?"
"To be honest, I hope we can become even closer."
With a gentle smile, my mother nodded.
"I actually told him we should meet up more often."
It seems Mother realized that's something good for me and our family, too.
Embracing the moment, I went a step further and let my wishes be known
"It's the same with the other uncles, too. Nothing binds people together like blood."
"Yes. I'm sure it'll be a big help to you."
Even if that meant crime, Mother didn't mind.
How am I supposed to interpret that?
Is it her firm belief that family would never put each other in danger?
Or has she just become numb to the idea of crime itself?
Whatever the reason, Mother's words somehow set my mind at ease.
***
The morning after Christmas.
In the office, I reviewed the store's sales figures.
The lingerie shop and the dance hall both performed well up through Christmas Day.
The issue was the casino, but to my surprise, it had actually brought in sales.
"Oh, don't tell me it was the flies that did the gambling?"
"You're funny. Just spreading the word for a day brought in real customers. If we can turn these first-timers into regulars and keep growing, we should be in good shape."
Finally, a bit of light is shining into that gloomy casino.
With that positive energy flowing, my mind started working faster than ever.
"Lenny, didn't you once say you lost everything on the lottery? Walk me through what happened."
Lenny rubbed his temple, saying it was a painful memory.
"I came up with a lottery system and tried running it with the boss of the first place I worked as a dealer. But it was tough to manage."
Lotteries are illegal.
So, to run such a business, you have to pay off the police and withstand interference from other gangs.
Even when something's illegal, a casino is at least a closed environment, making it possible to respond to problems.
But running a lottery means dealing with the general public, with no way to control who gets involved.
"And you need plenty of operating money. You have to pay out the winnings and also offer incentives to those selling tickets."
In the end, I realized it was just too early to try something like that. At the same time, I was struck by a basic truth—I'm just not working with enough capital. If you want to make money, you need money to start with.
Right now, the profits from the business aren't nearly enough to pay off influential politicians and police in New York.
I was mulling over sending Lenny off to try his luck and score big, when Ida came to the office on the second floor.
"Boss, a guest is here."
Was it Derrick, my youngest uncle-in-law, already?
But my guess was way off.
The visitor was actually the boss of the supplier that provides hooks to Mother's company.
Previously, I had warned the supplier not to provide goods to companies making counterfeit products.
But it looked like there was another problem.
"This morning, I was threatened to supply hooks."
"Where did this happen?"
I frowned at the boss's words.
A former labor slugger who has now transformed into a clothing manufacturing boss.
It was Dopy Benny Payne, the man who once toasted to Johnny Spanish's death.