House Revenge by Mike Lawson Read Free Book Online Page B

punishment would be. And in order to accommodate his boss, DeMarco had gone to Emma because if anyone could find a way to look at Sims’s service record in a quiet, under-the-table way, it was her.
    â€œThanks,” DeMarco said. “I’ll give you a call in a couple of days. But right now I gotta go find out why he’s so hot for me to go to Boston.”
    DeMarco met Mahoney at his office in the Capitol. He started to tell him where things stood with Congressman Sims, but Mahoney said, “Forget about Sims for now. I’ll deal with him later.”
    Mahoney proceeded to tell him about Elinore Dobbs. The thing that surprised DeMarco wasn’t what Callahan was doing to Dobbs; that was hardly a unique story, a greedy developer doing underhanded things to move a tenant out of his way. What surprised DeMarco was Mahoney’s demeanor. Mahoney was angry, of course, but he also seemed depressed, and Mahoney wasn’t the type who got depressed. Mahoney, in fact, prided himself on causing depression in others. And he wasn’t depressed about what was happening to Elinore Dobbs. He was depressed by his inability to help her. He ranted to DeMarco about how guys like Callahan—guys with real money—had no respect for Congress or the law or anything else, knowing they could buy their way out of almost any situation.
    DeMarco almost said: So what else is new?
    â€œShe’s got three years remaining on her lease,” Mahoney said, “and her plan is to fight Callahan for all three of those years. She knows she’ll have to move when her lease expires but until then she’s going to make his life as miserable as she can. The problem is, what I did up there in Boston isn’t going to help for long. In a couple of weeks the media will lose interest and the cops will back off on patrolling the place. On top of that, the mayor and the city council guys are in Callahan’s pocket, and they don’t really want to help. This means that before long, Callahan will go back to doing everything he can to force her out unless you can figure out some way to stop him.”
    â€œHow the hell am I supposed to do that if you couldn’t?” DeMarco asked.
    â€œI don’t know. Figure something out. That’s your goddamn job!” Mahoney screamed.
    Oh, boy. He could tell thatMahoney was in no mood to listen to reason.
    But that was DeMarco’s job: fixing things that Mahoney wanted fixed. DeMarco had worked for Mahoney for years, starting out right after he obtained a law degree he’d never used. Instead of practicing law, he’d become Mahoney’s troubleshooter. Or at least, that’s the way DeMarco preferred to think of himself. Mahoney’s staff in D.C. handled the day-to-day political shenanigans related to passing laws—or not passing laws—but DeMarco was the one Mahoney used when he wanted something done that required a certain degree of tricky underhandedness. To put it another way, DeMarco was the guy Mahoney called when the law itself became a roadblock and Mahoney needed a way around the barricade. DeMarco was also the man Mahoney sent to collect campaign funds from those donors who wished to remain anonymous and preferred to pay in cash, which meant DeMarco was also Mahoney’s bagman—a job description he didn’t like. He had no idea, however, what he was going to do when it came to Elinore Dobbs. If a politician with Mahoney’s clout couldn’t deter Callahan, and if the people who ran the city of Boston were on Callahan’s side, then what could he possibly do? But he knew this wasn’t the time to debate the issue with Mahoney, so he flew to Boston.

7
    DeMarco checked in to the Park Plaza Hotel off Arlington Street, picking the hotel primarily because it was centrally located and reasonably priced.
    DeMarco liked Boston. He liked the harbor where Old Ironsides anchored at the pier, the food stalls at Faneuil