Chapter 21 - You Don't Really Know
Were the protests at Union Square too intense?
On the way back, the demonstrators only held their picket signs and didn't shout slogans.
It was when we passed 4th Street and reached Bowery Street.
Marcus, who had been chasing Johnny, quickly approached me.
"A friend brought some information."
Since I had given a heads-up beforehand, Patrick just nodded.
He was also curious about Johnny's next move.
As we entered an alley, Marcus quickly fell in behind me.
"So, where is Johnny now and what's he up to?"
Swallowing hard, Marcus explained the situation.
When he said Johnny had come looking for my home, a frown automatically formed on my face.
"Those guys even knew your and Liam's names. They had a paper, probably with information written on it."
"So they're kidnapping any family members of the protesters to use as leverage?"
"Not just anyone."
Johnny was specifically targeting the families of the protest leaders.
Right now, the protests were visibly led by my mother, who is Irish.
The family members were me, Liam, Roa...
Regardless of the brawl earlier that morning, Johnny was already looking for me to kidnap the family members of the protesters.
Marcus—no, using those shoeshine boys.
"If I bring you in, they said they'd give me an extra two dollars."
"That's not a small amount."
"Well, compared to what they owe you later, it's nothing."
Marcus gave a meaningful smile. It seemed like he was saying, "Let's plan the future together," or something like that.
"Thanks."
"...No need to thank me now. But shouldn't we tell the Marginals gang about the situation?"
"If too many people know, it'll stand out."
Johnny even kindly told us where he'd bring them.
"Then I guess I'll have to go myself."
The hostage has to go find the madman and send him off to another world.
The street was bathed in a deep sunset glow.
I separated myself from the protesters and the Marginals Sluggers to move alone.
With my scarf off and just without the tool bag, I was now an ordinary shoeshine boy.
No matter how much I think about it, this still feels reckless.
Johnny's the one taking reckless risks.
Marcus, just tell me where he is. I'm counting on you to look after Liam.
Was Johnny entrusting this task only to Marcus?
He probably put a bounty not just on me but on Liam as well, aimed at the shoeshine boys.
A mere two dollars.
But for the shoeshine kids, that's a lot of money.
I asked Marcus to watch over Liam and went alone to find where Johnny was.
"Hey, you!"
Suddenly, a group came rushing toward me.
They were shoeshine boys from another district.
"You're Ciaran, right?"
Even within the same trade, many don't know each other. Especially since Ciaran usually stayed within his own area and lived so quietly that he hardly had a presence.
But now, I was attracting all these kids' attention like this.
They all licked their lips and stared at me.
The eyes of bounty hunters. Even without answering, they were certain I was the target.
"Come with us."
Three of them surrounded me so I couldn't run away. It's not hard to break free, but is it really necessary?
All the shoeshine boys around clearly seemed to be looking for me. If I went alone, more of them would keep trailing me and making a nuisance, so I might as well use them like guide dogs and drag them along to my destination.
That's what you guys are for.
As I expected, shoeshine boys I passed on the way gave me greedy looks.
The ones who caught me strutted ahead like fishermen who'd just landed a big catch.
Anyway, the fact that there were so many witnesses and that I was openly led straight to the location meant one thing:
Either they had some secret deal with the police, or they were completely ignoring law enforcement.
I headed up along Canal Street.
Normally, I would never set foot in Little Italy.
But as soon as I entered, I turned right along the bustling Mott Street.
There wasn't much left until the garment warehouse where Johnny was.
I stopped in front of a narrow alley.
"What are you doing? Not coming?"
The three guys glared at me.
Without hesitation, I struck them down.
Bam! Bam!
I pushed them into the alley, knocked all three out, then stomped on them with my boots.
Next was the important part—I abruptly changed direction as if I was about to run away and left the spot.
No, that was just a ruse.
I stayed hidden nearby, watching them closely.
"Son of a bitch!"
"If we catch you, we won't let you off!"
The guys who'd gotten up late stormed out of the alley, raving wildly and running around like mad.
"You two go look for him. I'll go talk to that guy."
Two of them wandered the streets searching for me, while the other headed toward where that guy was.
That guy was obviously Johnny, right?
I figured they'd probably report to him, saying something like, "We brought him right to the doorstep but lost him."
I tailed that one, and sure enough, he rushed out into the street with two other men.
They were the same guys I'd seen in front of my house that morning.
Is Johnny alone now?
Or with several men?
I needed to find out.
Crossing the busy avenue crowded with horse carriages and automobiles, blending with commuters hurrying home, I approached the garment warehouse.
The street itself was a commercial hub connecting Little Italy and Chinatown, and there were many workshops nearby, like the sweatshop where my mother worked.
Because of that, there were quite a few garment warehouses in the area.
Besides, the ones who had hired Johnny were the garment manufacturers themselves.
Considering that, the garment warehouse was the perfect place to make a move.
The building's structure was almost all the same. I circled around the three-story red brick building and climbed up the fire escape stairs at the back. Just as I was about to take off my shoes, just in case—
Thin smoke was curling out from the third-floor window. It was definitely cigarette smoke.
Whether it was Johnny or someone else, someone was near the window. If I just poked my head out, I'd be spotted immediately.
Startled, I put my shoes back on and boldly entered through the building's entrance.
The first floor was a loading dock for freight. True to a place where kidnappings, hostage-taking, and threats were planned, no employees were in sight.
I quietly made my way up to the second floor.
I could've gone straight up to the third floor to take out Johnny, but the sun hadn't set yet.
The problem was escaping afterward.
There might be witnesses, and there was a risk that people who had gone outside might come back and run into me.
I decided to wait for the most certain opportunity.
The second floor was a warehouse piled high with various fabrics, making it a good place to hide. I slipped inside and waited for night to fall.
As I passed the time thinking this and that, I found my hands absentmindedly fiddling with the fabric.
Light and poorly breathable muslin.
Muslin is the most commonly used cotton fabric because it's inexpensive and easy to obtain.
My mother said muslin was suitable for brassiere material. This is related to the main target market.
We targeted workers.
As more women started working in factories and offices, they wanted practical underwear that was comfortable for daily activity.
Corsets were already expensive due to a steel shortage.
Since they were hard to wear anyway, there was also a movement to break away from corset culture.
On the other hand, wealthy people saw expensive corsets as a symbol of wealth, and their fashion tastes remained conservative.
From a market expansion perspective, targeting the wealthy wasn't very advantageous.
At first, we planned to spread brassieres using cheap fabrics, then later switch to high-end materials targeting the wealthy...
People came into the garment warehouse's first floor.
There were two of them. Their footsteps quickly climbed the stairs.
As they passed the second floor, I saw the two men.
They were the ones who had rushed outside looking for me.
My heart jarred.
They soon entered the third-floor office.
I pressed my ear to the door to catch what was being said.
The conversation roughly went like this: "We can't tell where they went. Leaving it to those shoeshine boys was a mistake. Looks like we'll have to go to their home ourselves."
They were planning to break into someone's house and abduct them?
There's no time to wait until night.
It's time to send these gutsy bastards not just outside, but to the other side.
It's not night yet.
To prevent a bloody disaster from unfolding on the streets, I'll start by shedding my clothes.
I left my clothes on top of the fabric piles, keeping only my underwear on.
It might seem twisted, but wearing only my underwear and wielding a knife and a club in each hand, I slipped between the bolts of fabric.
The stairs zigzagged from the first floor to the third.
I hid my body in a blind spot where I wouldn't be seen from below. Almost at the same moment—
Clack.
The office door opened, and Johnny and his group came down the stairs.
"To lure the kids inside the house, we need a few shoeshine boys."
"Let's have those guys just open the door, then we'll go in and grab them all."
"That's kind of inefficient...!"
Thud!
I lunged forward, pushing the man at the front against the wall and stabbing my knife into his neck.
One down.
Right after twisting the knife free, I swung it widely at the one a step above.
Shhhk.
Instinctively, as he leaned back, he raised his arm to block the blade.
The tip of the knife scraped across his coat and skin, and simultaneously, I struck the back of his head with the club in my left hand.
Crack!
He collapsed onto the stairs with a heavy thud, hindering the movement of the last man.
At least the second one was out of the fight.
The last guy, half-falling backward, retreated up the stairs.
If I let him go, he'll be hard to catch.
I dropped the club like a thrown weapon, grabbed the man's pants with my hand, and yanked him toward me.
Slipping as he was pulled, I stabbed repeatedly from his crotch up to his chest.
Thrust, thrust, thrust.
It wasn't until I reached his neck that I realized this wasn't Johnny.
I finished him off, then grabbed the hair of the second guy I had struck with the club and dragged him into the storage room.
This one was Johnny.
To keep him from escaping, I slashed Johnny's nerves in his arms and legs with the knife, then dragged the other two bodies into the storage room as well.
I covered the blood-soaked stairs with fabric bolts.
Then I approached Johnny.
Tap, tap.
"Johnny, still Johnny?"
"Get up already, you punk."
I slapped Johnny's cheek with the knife blade, but he didn't respond—he must have lost consciousness. Looks like his head really got cracked open.
Without taking my eyes off Johnny, I put on the clothes I had laid out on the fabric.
Just as I was buttoning the last button of the jacket, a gurgling sound escaped from him.
I approached Johnny, grabbed his hair, and half-lifted him up, then wrapped my arm around his neck from behind. I whispered into his ear.
"So they say you're that dangerous and crazy, huh?"
"Ugh…"
"The world must've seemed easy to you, but it stops here, Johnny. You ready to go to the other side?"
I gradually tightened my grip.
The price for messing with me and my family.
I wanted Johnny to clearly feel that moment of death.
As if responding, the sound of liquid flowing steadily came from him.
"He peed himself."
Thud.
Only after Johnny's body went completely limp did I release my arms.
He collapsed with a heavy thump.
I reached into the pocket of my coat and pulled out a piece of paper.
It was the contract I had taken from Stumpy, the loan shark.
At first, Stumpy had priority ownership of the sewing machine. However, as the contract vanished and the scam was exposed, the Yu family, the factory owner, got actively involved and filed a lawsuit.
In this situation, what if a sewing machine contract was found on Johnny, who was hired by the factory owners?
The protesters could use that to attack them.
It would be used as ammunition to strike against the owners alongside the ILGWU.
I covered the bodies with fabric and slipped out through the back door on the second floor.
Stepping down the metal fire escape and onto the ground, I quickly slipped away down the alley.
The spoils were $108 from Johnny's wallet.
Plus $9.20 scraped together from the two others.
Not too shabby.
***
It was 7 p.m.
The streets were crowded with people leaving work.
If we could just get out of here now, it would be perfect...
"Whoa, look who we have here."
I ran into some familiar faces.
Meyer Lansky and Benjamin Siegel.
Along with three other kids I didn't know.
"Ciaran, just in time. Still shining shoes these days?"
"No."
They seemed completely unaware of my situation. Meyer gave me a strange look as he confirmed I didn't have a tool bag.
"I'm just about to meet someone who might have some work. Want to come along?"
"Who?"
Meyer's lips curled into a smile.
"You probably don't know him—Johnny Spanish."
He said Johnny was a very famous labor slugger in these parts