Authors: Linda Daly
As Alfred waited for his grandson, Tad was fighting for his life across
town in the alley behind Jake’s with Daniel Hobbs looking on. After Daniel
picked up Tad, the two of them waited in the shadows of the alley being
informed that Gilbert would be there after midnight. Just as they had
thought, Gilbert, along with a fellow worker at the Ice Company, showed
up soon after the church bell chimed twelve. As the two Irishmen came into
the passageway, Tad walked out in plain view.
“Oh yeah! And what would that be, your Lordship?” Gilbert remarked
snidely.
“Give me back my money and stay the hell away from Miranda, and I
won’t make any trouble for you.”
“The hell I will, you cheating bastard! As a matter of fact, that fair little
lassie is far too good for the likes of you, so I think I’ll be winning her
from ya too.”
Infuriated, Tad charged at Gilbert, but expecting his assailant, Gilbert
easily stepped to the side, causing Tad to lunge into the wall of Jake’s.
Gilbert’s friend laughed, goading Tad into a rage as he stumbled to regain
his bearings. Grasping hold of a jagged piece of board, Tad swung the
board at Gilbert and his friend.
“I’ll wipe that smile off your damned face, you slimy bastard!” Tad
yelled, taking Gilbert by surprise and clipping him in the ribs, which
caused the wind to be knocked out of him. Hunched over, Tad punched him
in the face, throwing the man onto a rusted iron tub used by the brewery to
discard empty whiskey bottles.
“Get up, you son of a bitch,” Tad said derisively, hovering over the
stunned man, not noticing that Gilbert’s friend had pulled an ice pick from
inside his weathered coat and was inching his way closer to Tad to strike.
“Tad, watch your back!” Daniel yelled.
Jerking around just as the man lunged, Tad began struggling for control
of the pick. Feeling his forearm slashed by the tip of it, Tad managed to
knee his assailant in the groin while still struggling over control of the tool.
Suddenly the man yelped as the pick pierced through his side. Seeing the
stranger’s eyes widen, Tad looked down in disbelief, as Gilbert, who had
regained his bearings, struck him over the head with a bottle, causing him
to fall to the ground.
Then Gilbert turned and looked at Daniel who had done nothing up to
this point to defend his friend. “This wasn’t part of the deal,” he shouted.
“Hell, me mate could have been killed!”
“Yeah well, who the hell told you to flap your jaws? What in the hell
did you expect, when you threatened to go after his woman, you stupid son
of a bitch?” Daniel shouted back at the outraged Gilbert while walking
over to him. “All you had to do was promise him a chance to get his money
back and we could have wiped him clean of next month’s spending money
too,” Daniel snarled.
“Just how in the hell was I to know his Lordship would react like
that?” Gilbert said, frustrated. “You want to keep robbing your friend, find
some other patsy to do yer dirty work! I’m through with this shit.”
“You’re through when I tell you, you are. Do I need to remind you that
your job hangs in the balance?”
“Look, I’ve done everything you asked, but this has gone too far.
Winning at cards is one thing, but me and Dave here could have been killed
tonight. You can shove that job right up yer arse!”
“Is that so? Well, what if I had to notify the authorities that you and
Dave here got in some brawl and you stabbed and killed him?”
“Yeah well, Dave ain’t dead now is he? Just a wee nick is all.” Before
Gilbert finished his sentence, Daniel grabbed the ice pick while he stood on
the injured man’s chest and glared at the stunned Gilbert.
“Oh I assure you that can be rectified,” he snarled, lunging at his prey
and shoving the ice pick into the injured man’s body a second time under
the ribcage while he struggled to be freed. A chilling moan rang out in the
darkened alley, and Gilbert, realizing that Daniel had just killed his friend,
lunged at him.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you killed him ya cold-blooded bastard.”
Yanking the ice pick from the mortally-wounded, bloodied man’s body,
Daniel pointed it at Gilbert replying cold and callously, “Just like I said, I
came across you killing this poor bastard. Now who do you think the
constable is going to believe--a law abiding citizen or some hot-headed
Irishman who has built up a reputation for brawling? Why just last night
you were thrown out of this fine establishment.” Daniel paused, nodding
toward the building behind him.
Glaring back at him, inching his way closer, waiting for the appropriate
moment to jump Daniel, Gilbert goaded him, stalling for time. “Yeah, well
I think I’ll take my chances or kill you myself, you rotten bastard.”
“Have you forgotten I’ve got the pick?” Daniel arrogantly waved the
ice pick in front of him, snidely grinning. “You’re a betting man. What do
you think your odds are? Before you step any further though, you might
want to keep in mind that I know where that feisty little tart sister of yours
lives and works. And I can assure you, if you even so much as step another
foot closer after I finish you off, I'll go after that whore-sister of yours next.
When I’m finished with Margaret-Anne, no one will be able to identify her
remains.”
The two men, hearing Tad moan, looked at him and Daniel, taking
advantage of the situation, cleverly called out as Tad started to regain
consciousness and looked around. “I’m warning you, come any closer and
I’ll kill you. What Honeycutt did to your friend was in self defense.”
“Why you lying bastard!” yelled Gilbert, while Tad managed to get to
his feet.
Keeping up the pretense that Tad had killed his assailant, seeing that
Tad was coming to, Daniel said, “Lower your voice, man! Do you want the
whole town hearing you? Think how it will go for you, when I announce
that I witnessed you trying to kill an upright citizen like Honeycutt here.
You got a death wish, do you? Like I said, I saw the whole thing. My friend
here was only defending himself when this thug pulled out an ice pick and
tried to kill him. Honeycutt never intended to kill the poor bastard. It was
an accident I tell you!”
Daniel’s words were convincing as he looked at the outraged Irishmen.
“Do you think going after Honeycutt now is going to help your friend?”
Dazed, Tad rubbed the back of his head and glanced at the man not five
feet in front of him. As he looked at the lifeless body of his friend lying in a
pool of blood, Daniel’s words began to register. Not only had he just killed
a man, but also his friend was trying to protect him.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Gilbert understood perfectly just how
deceitful and cunning Daniel was. There was no chance the authorities
would ever believe the truth against two of its leading citizens.
“Defend his Lordship’s honor good and proper. The two of ya deserve
one another,” Gilbert sneered, before turning and running down the alley
and out of sight while he still had the chance.
Looking at the dazed Tad, Daniel said urgently, “Get a hold of yourself
man, before someone finds out you killed him.”
“Killed him? You just said it was an accident!” Tad mumbled, trying to
get to his feet.
“Who the hell’s going to believe it was an accident, except some
ignorant Irishmen? Let’s face the facts, you and O’Flaherty made quite a
scene last night, old boy. Just how long do you think the other guys will
keep their mouth shut about you dealing off the bottom of the deck when
murder is involved? Let’s face it, you do not want the constables to
investigate this man’s murder. Even if you can convince a jury it was an
accident, your reputation will be destroyed.”
“What are you saying . . . dealing off the bottom of the deck? Why you
know that’s preposterous.” Tad’s head throbbed with pain as he tried to
understand what his friend was saying.
“Bullshit, we all saw you. Why do you think I knocked over the table
as I did? We’ve been friends for a long time and I was not about to let your
reputation be destroyed over some foolish act. Now pull yourself together
and help me get rid of his body, before you’re found out.”
It was clear to Tad that he had fooled no one last night, and realizing
there was no point in trying to defend his actions, he started to walk over to
Daniel, while rubbing the back of his neck. Feeling stickiness on his neck,
he was shocked at seeing his own blood on his hands. “How the hell did I
get cut?” Tad asked confused.
“Gilbert hit you from behind with a bottle after you stabbed his mate.”
Daniel mumbled, as he lifted the man’s feet. “Grab his arms and help me to
get him out of here.”
Gazing down at the lifeless body, Tad recalled how he had struggled
with the dead man over the ice pick. Shocked and reacting to Daniel’s
commands Tad bent over to take the dead man’s arms in his, a cold shiver
running up his spine upon seeing the lifeless stare in the man’s eyes. “I
don’t even know his name . . .” he mumbled.
“David Sullivan. He worked with Gilbert at father’s Ice Company,”
Daniel said frantically, looking about the alley trying to think how to get
out of there without being caught, knowing time was of the essence.
Urgently he whispered, “Listen up Tad, I need to go get the coach. We
can’t just carry a dead man out onto the street. Pull yourself together and
I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for a reply, Daniel turned and went after his rig while
Tad, stupefied, continued to gaze at the man he believed he had just
murdered.
The gravity of the situation finally hit home and suddenly realizing that
he could in fact be hung, Tad began to tidy himself up by tucking his shirt
into his trousers and pulling his hair off his face. While straightening his
scarf, he became aware that his forearm ached. Looking at his arm he
realized the sleeve of his coat had been slashed.
Raising the sleeve high enough, he saw his forearm was bleeding along
with his head. Quickly he untied his scarf and wrapped it tightly around the
gash to help minimize the bleeding.
By then, Daniel had returned with the coach and jumped down from
the buckboard, saying, “Help get him inside. We’ll drop him in the
Hudson. No one will be the wiser.”
Nodding his reply, Tad assisted his friend, grateful that Daniel was
there to get him out of such a jam.
Within two hours, Tad was back in front of his grandparent’s home
after disposing David Sullivan’s body in the Hudson River and thanking
his friend profusely.
“Hell Honeycutt, if the roles were reversed I’m sure you would have
done the same. For the next few weeks though I’d stay away from Jake’s
just in case O’Flaherty tries to make trouble for you. With pay due him, it
works in our favor, so I’ll keep an eye out for the bastard and persuade him
to get the hell out of New York once and for all.”
“Give him anything he wants, understand? Just see to it he never
returns.”
“Oh, I’ll take care of O’Flaherty alright. You can count on that,” Daniel
said ruefully. “That drunken Irish mouth can’t be trusted.”
“Hobbs, you promised. No more bloodshed. Just get O’Flaherty out of
New York. Hell, anywhere he wants to go, and let me put this behind us.”
“Us?” Daniel asked indignantly. “Look Tad, I’m not the one who killed
the poor son of a bitch, so don’t be saying
us
. I’m here to assist a friend,
nothing more.”
“Yes of course . . . just promise me no more bloodshed.”
“Fine. But first I have got to find him. You still haven’t said how the
hell you are going to come up with that kind of money? I can’t cover that
kind of expense without Father becoming suspicious.”
Shaking his throbbing head, Tad said, “Just find the miserable bastard
and I’ll take care of the rest.” Then grasping Daniel’s hand in his, thanking
him again for his help, Tad slowly edged his way off the buckboard,
noticing the light from his grandfather’s study. Hoping it wasn’t his father,
Tad made his way up the steps, ready to confess what he had done if
necessary, to get the money he needed to make this hellish nightmare go
away.
Alfred, standing at the entrance of his study, noticing the blood on his
grandson’s neck and hands, ran to him out of concern. “Christ all-mighty
Tad, what in the hell has happened? Are you badly hurt? Should I send for
the doctor?”
“No. I’ll be fine,” he said, pausing for a moment. Tad nodded toward
the study. “Is Father inside?”
“No. I sent him up hours ago. I needed to discuss something with you.”
Alfred’s voice trailed off, helping Tad inside the study. Seeing the gash just
above the nape of Tad’s neck where he had been hit with the whiskey
bottle, Alfred asked again, “What the hell happened to you? You look like
the devil.”
Sarcastically, Tad replied, while taking a seat where Michael had been
hours before. “No truer statement has ever been said. Grandfather, I am the
devil! Or at least one of his followers, that’s for damned sure.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Tad. Just tell me what happened to you
tonight?” Alfred muttered sternly, while taking his seat next to his
grandson. “I demand the truth Thaddeus, or so help me God . . .”
“Not even God almighty himself can change what I’ve done tonight,”
Tad said, despondently looking at his grandfather, sullen and full of selfcontempt. “The finest education, or the finest breeding couldn’t prevent me
from turning out to be the despicable man I’ve become. Grandfather I’ve
lied, cheated at cards and gotten caught, and now have committed murder.”
Seeing the blood drain from his grandfather’s face, Tad hastily added.
“And if that wasn’t bad enough, I’m such a coward, I covered up my
crimes by bringing a friend in as an accessory. Not to protect the family’s
honor, mind you, but out of fear of being found out, or worse being strung
up at the end of a noose.”
Realizing his grandson was not speaking out of delirium from his
wound, Alfred sat horrified at his confession and as calmly as he could
manage, said, “Start at the beginning Tad, and don’t leave anything out.”
After hearing everything, including how he thought Daniel had saved
him from certain imprisonment and shame, Tad looked at his grandfather,
waiting for the elder Honeycutt to decide what needed to be done next.
“As foolish as you have acted and as unfortunate as that poor man’s
death was, you did not commit murder. Your friend Hobbs was right, it was
an accident. You were merely defending yourself. Thank God, Daniel had
the foresight to remove the body. No need to bring unwanted and
unnecessary gossip down on your good name.”
“My good name indeed.” Tad sarcastically chuckled, shaking his head.
“How many times I’ve heard that Grandfather, and after what I’ve told
you, all you can think of is my good name. Don’t you see? I’m neither
decent nor worthy of being a Honeycutt. I’m not like you and father. Hell,
the way I look at it, I would have been better off if Daniel would have let
Gilbert kill me.”