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CHAPTER ELEVEN
JULY 1965.
Friday night.
The meeting is set for eight.
Not at Buck's 'cause that place is too much 'mine' for Myers' liking, too popular with Brumly as well.
Definitely not Murphy's, 'cause there's no way I'm walking into the heart of River King's territory.
Which leaves that bar across from the boxing club as the only compromise we're both happy with.
So now it's five to and I'm strolling towards the building, hands in pockets, every inch the untouchable gang leader without a care in the world while Ryan and Curly trail along behind. I'm not exactly thrilled to have either of them here, wish Curly could just stay quiet, end up snapping at him to shut the fuck up before we get inside.
It would have been so much easier with Miller 'cause Nick always knew the score of things without having to be told all the fucking time. But Ryan's been around the longest out of all the guys I got left and I can't exactly show up alone, so having them here for back up is about as good as it gets right now.
It takes a second or two for my eyes to acclimatise to the gloom of the dingy smoke filled room. Unsurprisingly, Wayne is already here, sat at the table in the corner, lounging back in his chair. Or that his brother is nearby, watching Jimmy Fry and some other guy play pool out the back.
Myers."
"Shepard." He doesn't bother to get up, there's no pretence of niceties, no handshakes or greetings tonight. "Take a seat."
Ryan and Curly keep on walking, stop over at the bar while Wayne gestures to the girl behind the counter to bring us over some drinks.
Only she doesn't head this way. Instead it's the other bartender who brings them over, slamming the glasses down on the table. "Don't know what you two got going on in here tonight, and I sure as hell don't want to know either. But any trouble, then you take it outside. Understand?"
He doesn't hang around for an answer, heads back behind the bar where he watches from a distance, scowling as he lines up a row of glasses, but he ain't someone to mess with, got a reputation for being a badass who don't stand for no crap from anyone in his bar, no matter who they are.
"So are we going to settle this bad blood between us, Myers? It's all getting a little old."
"What happened to Lewis?" Wayne asks with a smirk. "You not helping him out any more then, Tim? Decided you had enough of him telling you what to do all the time?"
I shrug, well aware he's trying to needle me. But really, it suits me just fine that he carries on under the misguided impression that there are issues between us and Brumly or that I can't rely on Lewis for support no more.
"Simply doing what's best for my own interests, and that means I don't want to waste any more of my time on you. So, are we gonna put this behind us and come to some arrangement or not?"
He picks up his glass, cradles it in his hand then waits a while before he answers. "Well I don't know. I mean you seem pretty keen to do this, so maybe if I leave things going as they are for a couple more weeks then there won't be no Shepard gang left for me to worry about anyway?"
"Wouldn't count on it. Don't mean we're running scared 'cause you put Miller out of action for a while. But it does seem a waste of time and energy to be fighting each other when we could both be out there making some cash instead."
"A good point."
"So how about we get on with this and come to an agreement we're both happy with?" As soon as I say it, it's obvious I've made a mistake, that I've pushed a little too hard on this—'cause I sound a whole lot more desperate to settle this than I intended. Wayne's no idiot either. Sees it too and seizes on the opportunity to try to wind me up a little more.
"Why's that? Got somewhere else you'd rather be then, Shepard?"
"No, got all night if I need it." I lean back in the seat, take another sip of whisky, like I got all the time in the world.
"Yeah? That ain't what I heard. Rumour is you're going soft these days, spending all your time chasing round after that O'Connell girl like some lovesick idiot, instead of concentrating on business."
Wayne sits back, an amused smile on his face and I'm glad of the momentary distraction when the girl comes over from the bar and leans in to collect the empties in front of us.
"Cheers, darling." I smirk, making a point of checking her out as she replaces them with two full glasses, because I don't need Myers thinking Leigh's some easy way to get to me or that she's somehow more important than any other girl I might have fooled around with in the past. "Look, Wayne, do you want to sort this shit out or waste all my time talking about some broad I've been screwing? 'Cause personally I reckon sorting this business might be a little more useful to the both of us than listening to your opinions on who I happen to be sleeping with this week."
"Yeah, yeah." He laughs. "So what exactly is it that you're proposing then, Shepard?"
But before I can elaborate there's a crash of furniture, as Pete launches himself at Curly causing my brother to stumble into the bar stools, and an angry voice to yell out from behind the bar.
"I fucking told you lot, no trouble! Get them two out of here! Now!"
~oOo~
Finally I'm actually getting to enjoy a drink in relative peace, relieved to be back here with only a black eye, a few new bruises and some sore knuckles to show for the evening. The black eye from Pete when I stepped in to separate him and Curly, the bruises courtesy of Wayne in exchange for me knocking down his brother, and finally the sore knuckles from the explaining I had to do to Curly after we left. Making him understand that he'd very nearly fucked up the whole thing, and that I don't give a damn what Pete had been saying about him or me, or even about Leigh and Angela, because he ought to damn well know better than to let himself get drawn into a fight like that.
"Winston." I nod in Dallas' direction as he strolls over and leans on the bar next to me, tapping the surface impatiently while he waits to be served.
Somehow though it wasn't a complete disaster, still managed to salvage something out of the evening and thrash out a truce with Myers once it had all calmed down again. The upshot of it is that the River Kings will stay out of my streets, keep their business elsewhere, while I'll leave them alone to sell their shit undisturbed in their own part of town. I don't entirely trust the deal, or Myers, because it all went a little too smoothly and felt like Wayne agreed to it all a bit too easily. But it should hold—for now—and at least a few weeks peace will give me a chance to concentrate on rebuilding the gang and making some money at last.
"Evening, Shepard, so how's things?" Dallas asks, dragging me back away from my thoughts to the here and now. Looks like my peace and quiet is going to be short lived after all.
"Pretty damn good."
"Yeah? That ain't what I heard, rumour has it that you got ditched."
"What the hell you talking about?" I mutter, glaring at him while wondering what the fuck he's talking about, as a hundred different possibilities race through my mind. Find myself wondering what he's heard from Sylvia, if Frank's pushing Leigh to dump me now he's actually met me, or if she's more pissed at me than she let on over what I did to that Donny kid the other night.
"Yeah, heard Miller finally wised up and binned your outfit." Dallas watches me for a few seconds before he flat out fucking laughs at me. "Damn, you thought I meant your girl didn't you?"
"Fuck off, Dallas." I turn my attention back to my drink and light another cigarette, hoping that Dallas will get bored and get lost if he doesn't get any more reaction out of me. Or at the very least shut up.
But he doesn't go anywhere, hangs about chatting to Buck before starting up at me again a couple of minutes later.
"Come on, Tim, you got to be short-handed now, must be causing you all sorts of headaches if you're left with them other clowns. Got to be when Curly's about the cleverest of the bunch."
"What are you getting at, Dallas?"
"Well, if you're in need of an extra pair of hands—casual like, I ain't prepared to be part of no Shepard gang or nothing—then maybe it could work out to our mutual advantage?"
Jesus. Reduced to considering working with Dallas Winston.
He can be alright to hang around with at times and is definitely tough enough, but he's never been good at getting along with other people, is too easily provoked. But then on the other hand we really are one short now for the next job I've been planning. And at least I know how Dallas operates so I should be able to keep him in line, short term at least.
Weighing up the pros and cons, I hope I'm not about to make a terrible decision.
"Yeah, okay, one job, Sunday night—see how it goes. Then maybe if you're any good, don't fuck it all up, I might be able to push some more work your way."
~oOo~
Wednesday night.
We're in the process of pulling the second job of my current scheme. The first went pretty well because all the holiday crap going on kept most everyone in that part of town busy and out of our way. And Dallas didn't manage to screw things up or cause me no trouble.
So I've included him again tonight, paired him with Ryan, thinking he'd be a better, calmer influence than either Curly or the equally hot-headed Danny. Which turns out to be my first mistake. Or maybe the second, if you count involving Dallas Winston another time.
Waiting in the car at the end of the dark service alley, I can't help thinking that something is definitely off. The guys ought to be out by now; it shouldn't be taking them this long. Counting the seconds, I drum my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel before glancing at my watch, again.
What on earth is taking them so long?
And then I hear it. Footsteps and raised voices. Spot Curly and Danny emerging from the shadows, heading for the car with some of the goods.
Jesus they all ought to know better than to make this much noise.
Peering through the car window into the gloom behind the buildings, I'm trying to figure out exactly what is going on while fighting the urge to get out the car and go see for myself what the problem is. Finally, less than a minute later, there's a thud, as a box drops into the trunk, and Curly wrenches open the door, slides into the back seat of the car.
"Where're the others? What the fuck is going on, Curly?" I snap, turning the key in the ignition and rest my foot on the gas pedal, ready to leave.
"It's Dally, he's gone nuts at Ryan. You heard 'em on the way over, bitching at each other like a pair of girls. Now it seems they're gonna beat the shit out of each other right here."
"Fucking idiots, we don't have time for this. You get the gear?"
"Yeah, as much as we could carry, them two were meant to bring the rest."
"Well, we can't wait all fucking night."
The trunk slams shut as Danny also reaches the car, and drags open the passenger door, puffing and panting as he tries to catch his breath. "You're gonna have to leave them, Tim," he gasps. "I tried getting Ryan out of there but he's having none of it, wouldn't listen to me, told me he didn't care, and you know what Dal's like. Someone up in them apartments behind has to have heard 'em, they've probably called the cops already."
"We'll give them a couple more minutes, soon as we hear a siren we're out of here though," I reply, trying to be calm while waiting for the inevitable wail of police sirens in the distance.
~oOo~
Friday evening.
"Jesus, Tim Shepard, you really fucked things up this time, didn't you?" yells Sylvia as she appears out of nowhere in front of us.
"What's the matter, Sylv?" Leigh asks, bemused.
"Sorry, but someone needs to tell your boyfriend how it is. Dallas got arrested, he's getting sent back to the reformatory, probably get a couple months at least this time. And it's all down to you, ain't it, Tim?"
Sylvia's standing dead centre of the sidewalk, with her arms folded as she glares at me, like she's daring me to disagree with her.
"Ain't my fault he can't concentrate on one thing long enough to stop himself getting into trouble. He shouldn't have been fighting with Ryan so it's his own damn problem. Way I hear it they were too busy getting into it bitching over the broads they been seeing. Both of them have been having a thing with Anita Thomas apparently. So it's probably done you a favour him getting locked up before he dumps you again."
"Shut it, Tim, with your lame excuses. That's got to be the biggest load of bullshit I've heard all year."
"You certain about that, darling? Dallas fill you in on exactly where he spent the night last Monday? No? Well how about Tuesday? 'Cause he sure wasn't with you, was he?"
"God, you really are a bastard." Sylvia leaves it at that, no more bitchy comebacks, just turns and stalks away.
"Sylv, wait." Leigh hurries to follow her, catches Sylvia by the arm and stops her a few feet away. "Take care, alright? I'm sorry about Dally."
"Yeah? Well maybe we aren't as good friends as you like to make out, if you're still gonna waste your time with that loser. I mean first Nick gets hurt so bad that he's in the hospital, then this with Dallas getting locked up. He thinks he's so tough but Tim Shepard is nothing but a pathetic jerk who lets everyone else take the fall for him."
"Sylvia, it's not—"
"No. Don't you dare defend him and tell me it isn't his fault. He's bad fucking news, you have to be able to see that. I got to go. Guess I'll maybe see you around some time, Leigh."
And Leigh stands there speechless for a few seconds watching as her best friend storms away, before she turns back to me, her brow furrowed.
"What on earth's been going on, Tim?"
"Nothing."
Slipping my arm around her we head across the street, back towards the car.
Leigh bites her lip and frowns some before challenging me on it again. "Nothing, Tim? Really? Sure seemed like it was a big deal to Sylvia."
"Like I said, this isn't anything you need to be concerned with. You know how she is about Winston; she can't ever see him for what he really is no matter what he does to her."
"I guess, but—"
"But nothing. Give her a couple of days to calm down and she'll be fine."
And then I resort to doing the only thing I can think of to distract Leigh, pull her close to me and kiss her some, make it clear exactly how I'm hoping we'll be spending the rest of our evening once we get back to mine. Hope it'll do the trick and take her mind off things, for now at least.