Seamus MacHale's page

Seamus waited at the corner diner, across from the Aqueduct Racetrack in the South Ozone Park neighborhood of Queens, waiting for his partner. He leafed through the latest edition of the Brooklyn Daily News while he had a cup of Joe and a sinker. He came to an article about Franklin Roosevelt the Governor of New York and his fight against Tammeny Hall. Another politician trying to keep the Irish down, he thought. As Seamus sat there he took a moment and mused on how far he had come for an uneducated Paddy.

Seamus “Mac” MacHale came to the United States at the age of 8 with his mother and 2 younger brothers. They quickly settled in Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood of New York City. His mother eventually found work in one of the factories in the garment district and his family began a new life in America. There was only one way to grow up if you were Irish on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen in the 1900’s and that was fast. The neighborhood was run by the Gopher Gang and One Lung Curran and by fourteen Seamus had dropped out of school and was working odd jobs for the gang.

With the influence of the gang declining Seamus was forced to find other avenues to earn money. As he grew in size and stature Seamus made money on the side boxing in amateur bouts, where he won more than he lost. His luck turned for the better when in 1918 he supported Al Smith in his bid to become Governor of New York. Seamus was to persuade people to vote for Smith by whatever means necessary. Because of his support and thanks to the [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spoils_system]patronage system, fortune smile on him and in 1920 he was hired on to the New York City Police Department. He began his career with promise and excitement with the knowledge that on occasion he would be asked to do favors for Tammeny Hall.

He took to policing like a natural. He was the type of cop every department needs smart, strong, and not afraid to bend the rules. He walked a beat for less than two years, when some strings were pulled, and he made detective. Seamus was a natural and he enjoyed much success as a detective. During most of the 20’s he spent his time in vice and earned money on the side warning speakeasy owners when a raid was likely to happen. Soon after the Market Crash of 1929 Seamus was placed on special assignment and given more freedom in spite of the money crunch the department was feeling.

He was currently on special assignment handling problems others couldn’t or wouldn’t and he was enjoying the opportunities the assignment provided. It’s not Governor of New York but it was something, he thought. Today he was on the trail of one Pat Kelley who was a little late in fulfilling his obligations.

Seamus snaps out of his reverie and looks out the window of the diner and sees his partner Michael O’Malley leaving by the main gate of the race track. He quickly leaves a clam on the table and makes for the exit. Catching up with his partner Seamus asks, ”How is it going?”

”Oh applesauce,” O’Malley exclaims as he throws his racing ticket on the ground. ”I’m all out of salad, let’s go.”

Mac can’t help but ask, ”Which hayburner did you lose it on today?

O’Malley just shakes his head and curtly replies, ”Leave it be Mac.”

He isn’t mad yet, he’s still using my nickname, Shamus reasons. Thinking it safe he replies, ”Stop being such a wet blanket O’Malley.” As the two detectives make their way to their Flivver.

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Later that evening Mac and O’Malley made their rounds eventually pulling into the parking lot of a juice joint owned by one Patrick Kelly. ”He’s home, there’s his Breezer,” Mac remarks. They sit in the car for a minute finally Mac says, ”give me a snipe.” O’Malley digs out two cigarettes, hands one to Mac and lights them both in silence. After taking a couple of hits off his cigarette Mac realizes that O’Malley is on the edge on and cautions his partner, ”Careful, you dig. Mac exits the car and removes his roscoe from his shoulder holster and places itinto his coat pocket where he can reach it easier.

O’Malley grunts his reply as he exits the car, ”Get a wiggle on.”

They head toward the speakeasy and are stopped at the door by two bimbos who come up to Mac and ask, ”Evening Bull, what you want?

Mac replies as he shows him his buzzer, ”We’re here to see Kelly.”

The bimbos lets us in telling us that Kelly will be with us shortly and to have a drink while we wait. Mac and O’Malley enter the joint, a large crowd is gathered inside and someone was playing Frank Crumit’s I’m Sitting on top of the World. “Swanky,” Mac comments as they approach the bar. Normally we’re all business and don’t partake of the giggle juice but O’Malley had just broken up with his bearcat and was having a hard time with it, he was still goofy over her. We both ordered the hair of the dog and O’Malley started chatting up the dame next to him eying her chassis.

While sitting at the bar Mac glances at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar and remarked, Although O’Malley is bigger than me, people agree that I look more menacing. That’s on account of my cauliflower ear, a nose that was broken one to many times, and a long scar on the left side of my face where an Italian anarchist had stabbed me with a broken bottle in 1922. That and the fact that I’m built like a big six and have fists the size of hams.

After a short while we were told Kelly would see us and were escorted to a back room. The detectives weren’t worried as they weren’t there to pinch anyone and Kelly knew it. In the back room Kelly sat at the table with two torpedoes. On the table were nine dead soldiers and an ashtray that was over flowing. Mac looked at O’Malley making sure he wasn’t corked. Mac thought, I’ve got a bad feeling about this, we may have made a Brodie. That’s when they were bum rushed by the two torpedoes and four other hard boiled guys who rushed into the room from a door behind the two lawmen.

It was a wild melee O’Malley picked up a chair swinging it with abandon breaking it over the head of the first torpedo, while Mac struck the second with a vicious upper cut, knocking him out before he could get out of his chair. But then the fight was on, the other toughs came in fast looking to end the fight quickly. With a glance in his partners direction Mac saw that the two that went toward O’Malley were having a tough time of it as he was still is possession of a chair leg and started clubbing the men with it. That was all the thought Mac had time to give to his partner as he had his own troubles to deal with. One of the men went for Mac’s legs while the other pummeled him with a club. Horsefeathers, Mac thinks as he lets the man who has his legs take him to the ground and starts to grapple with him. While he is grappled with the man on the floor with him the second man with the club has a hard time striking him. Mac grabs the guy on the floor with him by the neck and sticks the thumb of his other hand in the man’s eye. Mac rolls off his opponent on the floor and springs to his feet. The guy with the club swings at Mac. Mac steps forward and he is able to block the brunt of the blow with his bicep and throws an elbow at the man’s temple. The man crumbles to the floor next to his wailing companion who is rolling around on the ground in pain holding his eye.

Mac looks around for his partner and sees that he has already dispatched his two opponents and is holding Kelly by the lapels of his suit coat. ”Dry up,” Mac says as Kelly tries to protest being manhandled by O’Malley. As Mac closes the distance, walking quickly toward Kelly, he removes his Smith and Wesson Model 10 pistol from his pocket and smashes the butt into the Kelly’s face knocking the man unconscious. The two detectives quickly rifle through Kellys pockets taking several hundred dollars from the man and three Cadillacs. As they leave the place Mac tells the two bimbo’s at the front door, ”Let your boss know we’ll be back next week for the pick-up.” They walk a couple of more steps and Mac turns around and adds, ”Double the usual amount.”