Cry Heaven, Cry Hell. Howard Gordon. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Howard Gordon
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Книги о войне
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781771431187
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The plane was a secret weapon and had not been unleashed, but this was to happen shortly. The house was fired, and little Pat and Malkia were hidden in a locker of the basement that covered a tunnel out to the woods with a clear line to the constable’s office. Jesse was about to use his tickets to New Zealand to get out of Ireland for good, but he stayed long enough to get a final lick at his foes.

      He was a part of the raid on the Doleman house and had observed the point where the tunnel ended. He met Malkia and Pat at the exit and shot them both. Then he ran to keep his appointment with his boat, which turned out to be his appointment with destiny. For Craine went to the hidden hangar, started the plane, made sure it was loaded, and sunk the ship right after Jesse had boarded. He then flew back to the Dolemans’ and strafed the pogrom in front of their house while the defenders came out of their barricade and made short shrift of the bullies. Tyndall was able to get Malkia and Pat to the hospital. Pat was able to survive, but his mother did not make it. Not one Ornam came forth to express sorrow.

      Craine’s expression was not of sorrow. He moved the plane to a new hideout because after his next episode, he knew he’d have to leave the country. He had already gotten rid of the head of the garbage family; he just had to bide his time, but he had to make plans for Pat. At the next family meeting, he told Da and the others: “Lads, I’m demanding an eye for an eye for Malkia. I know I took Jesse out, and probably a lot of innocent people with him. You know what that makes me. If I didn’t harm another soul, I’d hang for what I did. To prevent a family feud that would tear us apart too, I have to take out the rest of them. I’d like nothing better than to stay here and throw off the British yoke, but my staying would put you in danger. I know what I’m going to do, and then I’ll be gone. My only question is: Do I leave me Patrick under your care, or do I take him with me, so he knows his Da?” There were tears in all the Mikawber eyes, especially Tyndall. As the head of the house he addressed the issue. “Me son, a bairn has to know his Da. There’s no mother to sing his praises. Ye’ll be held within our memories and our hearts, as well as the Dolemans for loving their daughter, bringing them a son, and stopping the first pogrom our village has ever experienced. May God bless you and our Patrick, and bring you back to us.” With that they all cried. The scene was repeated before the Dolemans that Shabbos. The sorrow and the tears flowed from both families that had become and would remain one.

      On Monday, Craine bundled up Pattie with resolve in his heart and tears centered in the same organ and took the plane to the Ornam’s home. They were all leaving for work. He bombed their wagon with them all in it, including the lady of the house. With them all scattered over Belfast he set his sites for Boston, Massachusetts where he could lose himself in the big Irish population.

       Chapter 5

      The years flew by swiftly. Pattie was five years old, and Craine kept in weekly contact with his family. The youngster kept in touch with his family in the old country and his Jewish family. He was kept busy with Hebrew lessons, Yiddish lessons, and Erse poetry by virtue of the efforts of his Da and Grand Da who wrote him in the Gaelic and Celtic tongues. He showed an adeptness for languages, the history of his peoples (Jewish, Irish, and the ways of the Auld Orange). He was intrigued with knowing how things were put together and how processes worked. Craine worked as a trucker and came in contact with all different types of people. With no pubs in America and with passage of the Volstead Act, Craine began to look at the art of rum running across the Canadian border. However, he found that both Italian and Irish gangs were fighting for control of this market, and the fights got pretty nasty. Boston was not the least expensive community to raise a boy, and Craine needed more income than what a truck driver could earn.

      On one of his treks by truck, he met Georgie “Bugs” Moran, while at a Canadian bar, they talked about the war between the Italians and the Irish, wars over control of alcohol, prostitution, gambling. They were making money hand over fist, despite the killings, wars, cops on the take and politicians in their pockets. He began to get familiar with names, such as Al Capone, Johnnie Torrio, Big Jim Colosemo, and, last, but not least, Dinty O’Banion. Craine liked what he heard about him. He was a Lobsterback, but he could be friends with a Jew (Hymie Weiss). He took care of the Irish in Chicago and could give the impression of working with Italians and make sure that the profits went into Irish pockets. He stole Italian south side businesses and incomes from people with whom he worked and made sure that the Irish North side saw the profits. He had a beautiful tenor voice and ran the best flower shop in Chicago, as a front. The concept of front was new to Craine. He was used to the idea that a man knew where he stood. It was news that he only had to inspire fear when he intended to act fearfully. The aspect of being polite and appearing gentle while slipping it to someone else was an American nuance that seemed to go a long way. Obviously more could be accomplished with a little honey instead of a lot of vinegar.

      Craine already knew that Dinty was involved with the trade unions in the form of combating the employers’ use of scabs and sluggers to break up attempts to start unions. Ironically he had planned to use Louisville Sluggers to hit a couple homeruns. He remembered McTavish giving some Lobsterback a black eye for mouthing a bunch of anti union garbage and chuckled on the way into Chicago; Bugsy had accompanied him on the trip to deliver a load of lumber to a yard near the site of a potential strike. A tarpaulin was put over the truck to hide the company name. At a prearranged meeting with Dinty, 32 bats were supplied to 32 workers, and a couple machine gunners were in the back of the truck with them to look out for Pinkerton men.

      Craine had a lot of time to think about what he was planning. Drivers had a lot of time to themselves on the road. The boss gave the signal for the strikebreakers to move in, and the Pinkerton men were alerted. He chuckled to himself when he contemplated what those suckers were in for; union indeed. The big bruisers came with the fruit and eggs they’d throw at socialist suckers, the union agitators and maybe get their chance to beat the hell out of the punks. A speaker brought a self made podium to speak to the workers and started in about the inequitable distribution of income to profits, while workers sustained injuries after long hours on the assembly line, could not spend time with their sons, as a father wanted to do because of these hours and the demand to keep producing. The first response was to throw eggs at the speaker. The second was for the bruisers to advance on the listeners, tell the bum to get out of there, and to start to pick up listeners, and throw them around a little, even throwing them on the ground and kicking their ribs. As some of the men being kicked began to grab at the kicking legs, Pinkerton men advanced on them. The progress, witnessed by the laughing boss, was interrupted by a truck moving closer to the melee. The vehicle stopped; the doors opened, and the sound of machine gun fire was heard. The Pinkerton men were no more. Men with ball bats swarmed out of the back. The bruisers that wanted to be free of being part of the regime to beat Babe Ruth’s record made it their business to run home. By Monday, the union contract was signed. After a couple such slugfests, Chicago was on the road to become a union town. Bugsy and Craine split $50,000. It was good to be a trucker. Craine sent $10,000 home to Da and Moses.

      The relationship with Dinty was profitable but short lived. In 1924, Al Capone and Johnny Torrio got sick of the glib flower peddler shaking their hands with one hand and stealing from them with the other. He was shot to death in the middle of a handshake.

      Craine did not like to leave Pattie alone and hired a babysitter until he was about 12 years old. He kept his plans to himself and was able to hide a lot from his son. He also did not let Bugs or anyone else know that he had a son because he didn’t want him to be vulnerable to any retaliatory moves from any gangsters. Pattie grew into Patrick, who suspected some of his father’s activities, but who also knew enough to not ask any questions. He did not condemn his fathers’ moves because he had memories about what motivated them. He remembered a shooting incident from a plane, just before he and Da had left Ireland, in which a whole bunch of people were blown up. These people were somehow connected with his mother’s death. Da was always, always gentle when he came home before and after that day. But the look he had in his eyes the day he shot down that wagon was terrifying to Patrick.

      The trips to Chicago were becoming more frequent, and Craine was beginning to become well known. He suggested to Bugs that, perhaps, they should open up other markets in other areas. People that were beginning to rise in