Read Online Operation Underworld by Paddy Kelly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paddy Kelly
Tags: Ebook
Ads: Link
unusually long sentence.”
“Well, what do you know, a lawyer with ethics!” MacFall said.
“Sir, don’t get me wrong. I think all those bastards belong in jail. It’s just that I don’t consider that my brand of law. We play games like that with the rules, and we’re no better than them. Or the people we’re supposed to be fighting over in Europe, for that matter.”
“So, what I’m hearing, Lieutenant, is that people like Hogan and Dewey have their own agendas, and are not adverse to going outside the rules to achieve their aims?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, isn’t that just good, red-blooded American politics?”
“Sir, my point is that if push came to shove and the potential for a scandal arose, someone in that office would see it as a stepping stone to their career, and the Navy would be the loser. Not to mention the world-wide propaganda value of the fact that the United States Navy is turning to gangsters for help,” continued the Lieutenant.
“Having second thoughts about your own plan, Jim?”
“Not at all, sir. Just that after working both sides of the fence, there’s a reason why most of those guys up there are not in uniform.”
“I appreciate your candour. Your point is well taken, Lieutenant. “
“Thank you, sir.”
The two officers exited the building, and as they pushed through the bustling lunch hour crowd, Captain MacFall nodded in the direction of a nearby hot dog cart.
“New York tube steak?”
“Why not? I’ve been eating too healthy, anyway.”
Chapter Five
The New York City waterfront is an impressive sight when viewed for the first time. It is unique in the world of waterfronts. The convoluted structure of the docks allows them to encompass all five boroughs, as well as border seven cities along the New Jersey shore, just across the Hudson River. The sheer vastness of these structures can only be appreciated from the air, and their true splendour is best experienced during sunrise or the change of seasons. In addition, it is unlikely that any other waterfront in the world is marred by such a long and consistent history of violence.
It is here, amid the bitter sweet aromas of hemp and creosote, that nearly every King, Queen or Head of State has arrived, then embarked for some far corner of the globe, while on these same timbers someone’s father, brother, uncle or son has became an unwanted coroner’s statistic.
However, these docks are composed of more than timber decks and pitch-coated pilings. There are the men and women who live and work in this city within a city. Along with these temporary caretakers of the waterfront, are the terminals and warehouses which sustain life through the blistering heat of summer and the sub-zero temperatures of winter. The long, narrow buildings are large enough to house entire populations of small countries, and it is within these structures that the majority of longshoremen, stevedores or dockworkers, depending on your cultural orientation, work out their days, sacrificing their feet, knees, backs and sometimes their lives, to make ends meet.
The typical terminal had a thirty to forty foot high ceiling mostly composed of heavy glass in order to take full advantage of the sunlight. At night, the work was carried on under the blinding glare of mercury vapour lamps. The rectangular footprint of the building was divided into three parts. The shoreward end of the building, furthest from the water, was usually partitioned off for office space, while the remainder of the sparse floor area was divided through the long axis into equal halves. One side of the terminal was designated for arriving freight while the opposite side was usually designated for outgoing freight. In addition to this arrangement dictated by practicality, there was a special corner bin designated OS & D, as it was in terminal 16A.
“Hey, Danny! What’s OS & D?” asked the newest member of the Longshoremen’s Union who everyone called ‘Kid’.
“You got
“Well, what do you know, a lawyer with ethics!” MacFall said.
“Sir, don’t get me wrong. I think all those bastards belong in jail. It’s just that I don’t consider that my brand of law. We play games like that with the rules, and we’re no better than them. Or the people we’re supposed to be fighting over in Europe, for that matter.”
“So, what I’m hearing, Lieutenant, is that people like Hogan and Dewey have their own agendas, and are not adverse to going outside the rules to achieve their aims?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, isn’t that just good, red-blooded American politics?”
“Sir, my point is that if push came to shove and the potential for a scandal arose, someone in that office would see it as a stepping stone to their career, and the Navy would be the loser. Not to mention the world-wide propaganda value of the fact that the United States Navy is turning to gangsters for help,” continued the Lieutenant.
“Having second thoughts about your own plan, Jim?”
“Not at all, sir. Just that after working both sides of the fence, there’s a reason why most of those guys up there are not in uniform.”
“I appreciate your candour. Your point is well taken, Lieutenant. “
“Thank you, sir.”
The two officers exited the building, and as they pushed through the bustling lunch hour crowd, Captain MacFall nodded in the direction of a nearby hot dog cart.
“New York tube steak?”
“Why not? I’ve been eating too healthy, anyway.”
Chapter Five
The New York City waterfront is an impressive sight when viewed for the first time. It is unique in the world of waterfronts. The convoluted structure of the docks allows them to encompass all five boroughs, as well as border seven cities along the New Jersey shore, just across the Hudson River. The sheer vastness of these structures can only be appreciated from the air, and their true splendour is best experienced during sunrise or the change of seasons. In addition, it is unlikely that any other waterfront in the world is marred by such a long and consistent history of violence.
It is here, amid the bitter sweet aromas of hemp and creosote, that nearly every King, Queen or Head of State has arrived, then embarked for some far corner of the globe, while on these same timbers someone’s father, brother, uncle or son has became an unwanted coroner’s statistic.
However, these docks are composed of more than timber decks and pitch-coated pilings. There are the men and women who live and work in this city within a city. Along with these temporary caretakers of the waterfront, are the terminals and warehouses which sustain life through the blistering heat of summer and the sub-zero temperatures of winter. The long, narrow buildings are large enough to house entire populations of small countries, and it is within these structures that the majority of longshoremen, stevedores or dockworkers, depending on your cultural orientation, work out their days, sacrificing their feet, knees, backs and sometimes their lives, to make ends meet.
The typical terminal had a thirty to forty foot high ceiling mostly composed of heavy glass in order to take full advantage of the sunlight. At night, the work was carried on under the blinding glare of mercury vapour lamps. The rectangular footprint of the building was divided into three parts. The shoreward end of the building, furthest from the water, was usually partitioned off for office space, while the remainder of the sparse floor area was divided through the long axis into equal halves. One side of the terminal was designated for arriving freight while the opposite side was usually designated for outgoing freight. In addition to this arrangement dictated by practicality, there was a special corner bin designated OS & D, as it was in terminal 16A.
“Hey, Danny! What’s OS & D?” asked the newest member of the Longshoremen’s Union who everyone called ‘Kid’.
“You got
Similar Books
