Chapter 14 - The Informants of the Lower East Side
"..."
A brief, intense stare shoots my way.
This wasn't a random suggestion; after all, Leo once thought seriously about joining a gang, too.
He even brought it up to me more than once.
But when he saw kids in gangs go from petty theft to robbery, extortion, arson, and even murder, he changed his mind.
Leo wasn't reckless or lacking in morals enough to get caught up in senseless, extreme crime.
So his reaction was just what I expected.
"Cut the crap. Here, hold this."
He handed me a curved blade for scraping out debris.
I grabbed it and spun it around with flashy flair.
"With this, a quick slice to the throat…"
"Ha. Man, what's wrong with you? Just hold it, will you? I'm all over the place right now."
I gripped the knife handle.
Leo took the tool with both hands and carefully straightened the bent blade.
"All that fuss, and it was this simple. You could've just asked for help."
"Two heads are better than one, after all."
When I gave him a meaningful look, Leo shook his head.
"You've gotten slick all of a sudden. But seriously, you didn't show your face for days—what brought you here now? If you're buying a new set of tools, pay me back first. Don't tell me you forgot?"
Leo narrowed his eyes. That's when I noticed his split lip, a bit swollen. There really isn't a single person around here who's okay.
"What happened to your face?"
"Why bother asking, when you already know."
According to Ciaran's memory, Leo had grown up under domestic violence.
His Irish father was a drunk who drank himself stupid every day.
"Sigh, I wish Prohibition would just pass already. Or that the old man would just drop dead."
His words carried anger and hatred toward his father.
Leo pinned his hopes on Prohibition, but even if it came, those who want to drink always will.
Your father's probably no different.
With a bitter smile, I pulled some money out of my pocket and handed it to him. Leo glanced back and forth between the fifty cents and me.
"You didn't even work for this—what's going on? Things can't be great for your mother right now either."
"So you knew."
"How could I not? Word gets around. I also know you got your money stolen on Wall Street. Oh, did you hear? The guys who took your money—they were found dead in an alley off Beekman Street."
The alley murders never made it into the newspapers.
The sweatshop owner's death got slightly more attention. It was mentioned, if only in passing. Despite all the fuss from the reporters gathered at the crime scene, the coverage was barely more than, "A garment manufacturer was found dead at home"—just a half-hearted article.
There wasn't even a mention of unpaid wages, gambling, or debts.
Anyway, Leo had heard all this just by sitting here.
"A few days ago, I walked past that alley. The bodies were already gone—the police had cleaned them up. But what's happening with that case?"
"It's causing a stir around here lately. People think a gang war's about to break out."
Oh, it seems things are moving as planned.
"What gang were the dead guys from?"
"The Hudson Dusters."
They were once the dominant gang in the Lower Westside. But just like the Gophers and the Eastmans fell apart, the Hudson Dusters suffered the same fate.
The NYPD had arrested their leaders, sending them to prison, and some members died of drug overdoses. The gang was in decline.
"So why did the Westside guys cross all the way over to the East?"
"As the gangs' power weakened, the boundaries got blurry. These days, wherever there's money, that's their territory."
So, the guys I killed in the alley a few days ago were from the Hudson Dusters.
The Marginals, named as suspects, were a fast-rising gang taking advantage of the Dusters' weakened position.
"The Marginals denied it, but if it wasn't them, who else would have killed the Hudson Dusters? I heard that on the same night, some Dusters members got chased by the Marginals."
"So when do you think the two sides will go to war?"
"The Hudson Dusters are pulling in even ex-members now. Who knows when, but a war is inevitable."
I had launched a ball that pushed two gangs to the brink of all-out conflict—while staying clear of suspicion myself. I felt pretty good about that.
"At their peak, the Hudson Dusters had as many as 500 members. They'd roam the streets drunk and high, acting like outlaws."
Maybe they weren't as strong as in their heyday, but they were facing a full-blown war with thugs who lived as if there was no tomorrow.
It was bound to be a burden for the Marginals Gang.
"The funny thing is, you know both gangs are Irish, right? So how do you think the Jewish, Italian, and Chinese crews are reacting?"
Everyone's just waiting with popcorn.
That's how the situation stands right now.
I asked about the ex-boss of the Marginals, who were about to go to war with the Hudson Dusters.
"Do you know a guy named Tanner Smith?"
Leo narrowed his eyes and looked at me suspiciously.
"First you suddenly start taking an interest in gangs, and now you know about Tanner Smith. Are you really the Ciaran I know?"
I quickly explained what happened with Gary.
Leo rubbed the back of his neck, saying he couldn't make sense of it.
"So let me get this straight. Gary gets beaten up and goes to Tanner Smith saying, 'I know a guy who can fight,' and that guy is you?"
"That's right."
"How does that make any sense? You're supposed to be the weakest kid around here—how did you beat Gary? Even I could take you."
Was that supposed to be a challenge?
Leo is about the same height as me. And maybe thanks to his mother's genes, he's naturally muscular even without working out.
On the other hand, I was so skinny that I looked frail.
I'd never been in a fight, but no one would ever think Leo could lose.
Only I was confident.
"Anyway, Tanner Smith is a pretty unusual guy. He's not like the other gang bosses."
That matched what Gary had said.
After getting out of prison, Tanner had turned over a new leaf and was now helping underprivileged Irish boys.
But what I wanted to know was this—
"If he's supposedly out of the gang business, where does he get the money to help those kids?"
"Tanner works on the docks now, unloading cargo. That's what he uses to support them."
"He hauls cargo at the harbor? How can he afford to help anyone on that tiny salary?"
"He's not just any ordinary laborer. Especially during a strike like this, gang bosses like Tanner Smith are in high demand."
When the labor union goes on strike, companies and the government try to break it up by force, and in the process, both sides call in gangs.
With his strong reputation and loyal following, Tanner Smith was a very useful asset to the union.
"As another example, think of Paul Kelly."
Manhattan's most powerful gang, Five Points.
Its founding boss was Paul Kelly, an Italian immigrant.
After being released from prison, he handed over his boss position, just like Tanner Smith did, and is now the Vice President of the International Longshoremen's Association (ILA).
"Most dockworkers are Italian and Jewish immigrants, right? So Paul Kelly acts as their unifying figure and is deeply involved in union strikes. It's the same for Tanner Smith. He's quite popular among the Irish community as well."
"So, does that mean he has good connections?"
"Both of them have ties to Tammany Hall. Well, I'm sure they use each other for their own ends, but Tanner Smith built his organization and became a boss from the start by getting political backing. What he's been up to since he left prison, I'm not too sure about."
That was interesting.
The fact that these former bosses were involved with the harbor union meant there must be a lot at stake.
Tanner Smith's political connections through Tammany Hall caught my attention too.
"Well, I still think they're short on money. I heard that even while supporting union strikes, Tanner works regular jobs on the side."
Leo didn't just repeat what others told him—he offered his own advice and analysis.
"Look, even if I don't completely trust what you say, if Tanner Smith is really looking for you, you absolutely need to avoid him. If you get into a fight with the Hudson Dusters, he'll get involved. If you're unlucky, you'll get dragged in too. And even if you manage to win that war, do you think the other gangs would just leave you alone?"
They'd attack right away.
It's the perfect opportunity.
Just like Leo said, there's no reason for me to get tangled up again in trouble I started myself.
But a former boss with real influence and a loyal following—that was definitely intriguing.
Plus, his network and his position leading the harbor labor union were pretty appealing, too.
For now, I decided to think more about Tanner Smith once I got home.
I told Leo the real reason I'd come to see him.
"The sewing machines that the loan sharks took from my mother's workshop. Any idea where they might be?"
According to the plan, the thirty or so sewing machines the loan sharks stole were supposed to go back to the owner.
After the staged bankruptcy, the machines would be used in the new company.
But then, the owner suddenly died.
Now the loan sharks are considered suspects, getting questioned by the police.
"How are they supposed to get rid of them in just a few days?"
Even secondhand, sewing machines go for about sixty to eighty dollars apiece.
That's about three months' wages for an ordinary worker, and even well-used machines rarely drop much in value.
Unless a big buyer comes along, I figured there was no way the loan sharks could sell off dozens of sewing machines quickly.
Leo's mouth hung open a bit at what I said.
There was clear admiration in his eyes.
"You've gotten sharp all of a sudden. How did you even come up with that? Did you get hit on the head that hard or something?"
"...So, do you know or not?"
Leo stroked his chin and shook his head.
"I don't know. But even if you did know where they are, what are you planning to do?"
"Steal them."
"...Don't joke around."
"Hmm. I know someone who has enough money to buy them. You know stuff goes for the cheapest when it's a fire sale, right?"
If I was going to buy sewing machines, I'd definitely want a deal like this—a quick sale on distressed goods.
Leo nodded, accepting my vague explanation.
He never guessed I might be plotting something else.
"If things go well, that wealthy buyer could take over the workshop where your mother worked? And she could keep her job?"
"
That's right. But you're saying you don't know, right?"
Without hesitation, I brushed myself off and stood up.
"Then I'll have to find another informant."
Another informant in the Lower East Side.
"I'll go see Marcus."
Leo, his pride wounded, scoffed.
"As if he'd be any different. Besides, he won't even bother with you, will he? Hasn't he always looked down on Asians? You'll only end up getting hurt if you go."
"I don't care. I'm not planning to get information for free anyway."
"You're thinking of striking a deal with Marcus?"
"Of course. Nothing in this world comes for free, does it?"
Leo scratched his chin in thought. After a moment, he let out a sigh and spoke.
"With the way you've been acting lately, I'm getting worried. Fine, I'll look into it for you instead. What's the deal?"
The identities of the loan sharks and the exact location where the sewing machines are being held
"If you can find that out, I'll give you two dollars."
"You're saying that after checking with your rich financier, right?"
I nodded with a smile, and Leo gave me a curious look. Seems like I've piqued his interest.
Got him.
That's exactly why I came to Leo first.
"Find out as quickly as you can. The wagon carrying the sewing machines made quite a few trips that night, so there have to be some witnesses."
"If Marcus and I put our heads together, there's nothing we can't find out. But are you heading home now?"
"Of course. The sun's setting, so I should go."
"Traitor."
Leo stuck out his lower lip in mock protest, but then he grinned and gave my shoulder a friendly tap.
"Just kidding. Your mom must be having a tough time after suddenly losing her job. Be good to her when you get home."
"Thanks."
"Wow, now he even says thank you."
Leo used to kill time out on the streets until as late as possible to avoid his father.
There were quite a few others in a similar situation, so as the shoe shiners finished work, they gathered one by one around Leo.
I stepped aside and headed home.
Clunk.
I opened the door as usual.
Roa looked me up and down, then exclaimed in surprise.
"Wow! Big brother, you didn't get hit at all!?"
Yeah, Gary's the one who got beaten up.
Liam tilted his head, not understanding the situation.
"Gary wouldn't have just called you for a chat. Did nothing really happen?"
"Can't you tell by looking?"
I'm perfectly fine.
Just as I was about to close the door, Mom came in.
"You must all be hungry, right? Sorry I'm late."
"Roa set aside some eggs and potatoes!"
"Our sweet youngest is already helping Mom. Just wait a little."
Mom was smiling brightly, but that just made her seem even more awkward.
As I helped her with dinner prep, I asked,
"How did your visit to the women's organization go?"
"Well, it was just so-so. With the boss dead, they're not sure who to hold accountable or what to protest for. There's no clear reason for a demonstration. Unless people found out the boss was a swindler…"
Only we know that; most people just think the boss was someone chased by loan sharks who ended up murdered.
So, the WTUL (Women's Trade Union League) said they'd need to think things over a bit more.
The next morning.
As usual, Liam slung his toolbox over his shoulder and headed out, and Roa was handed over to Aunt Mary.
Mom joined the strategy meeting in the basement workshop just like any other day, and I holed up at home, working out and jotting things down in my notebook.
We decided to push forward with taking over the basement workshop once we got our hands on the sewing machines.
Now that we had some money, we didn't have to worry about day-to-day survival for the moment.
Now was the time to plan for the future.
[Prohibition, bars, breweries…..]
During Prohibition, gangs fought bloody battles to control the bars and breweries.
But what needs focused attention in the early days is securing the warehouses where bootleg liquor is stored, and the distribution networks that get that liquor to market.
And the ideal place to do that is—
New York Harbor, in other words, the docks.
It's the hub where all logistics converge and disperse.
That also means, once you lose your grip here, it's almost impossible to take it back.
"To control the harbor, you really need connections with people in management…"
My uncles who work at the docks would be a last resort.
What came to mind first was Tanner Smith, the former boss of the Marginals and a dockworker.
The reformed ex-gang boss wants Irish kids to look out for each other.
I'm probably included in that group, too.
But there's no time to take things slow. The craziness of Prohibition isn't far off. Before then, I have to bring Tanner Smith into my circle and build up my power base.
"I'll have to strike a deal with Tanner Smith."
But how do you get a former gang boss to team up with a seventeen-year-old?
That's the biggest problem…
"Ciaran! You home?"
Leo came by to see me earlier than expected, and he had another informant with him