Irish Tweed by Greeley Andrew M

Author:Greeley, Andrew M. [Greeley, Andrew M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781429992039
Amazon: 1429992034
Goodreads: 8568324
Publisher: Forge Books
Published: 2009-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

“Golden Dome four years ago, Mr. Coyne. Fooled around in restorative architecture. Bumped into himself on the golf course. Got a job. Love it. Your name is legendary at the Dome. Walked away on a middle linebacker slot and a glorious career in the NFL afterwards. Made a lot of money on the CBOT and married a beautiful and talented singer. From Dublin. His girlfriend takes care of your kids and adores your wife.”

“That about covers it, I guess.”

“The Holy Cross Fathers would value you more if you had gone to some swampy banana republic and came back with a permanent case of malaria, but they point with pride just the same.”

“You wait long enough, Sean McCaffery, and your vices all become virtues. I learned a hell of a lot at the Dome, some of it even in classrooms, only it wasn’t what I would have had to learn not to flunk out. Same at Marquette . . . You have any drawings of West End Park?”

“Thought you’d ask.”

He opened an outsized manila folder and spread out the top drawing.

It was astonishingly good. The old parkway looked brand new, elegant, and yet musty enough to be an 1898 reproduction.

“You are very good, Sean McCaffery, very good indeed. All it needs is gaslights, carriages, and top hats.”

“Thanks, Mr. Coyne. I kind of thought it was neat too. Finnbar fils and Finnbar pere really bought into it. They’re going to get construction contracts next month. I’ll be in charge. Well, me and Finnbar, if he can get around on crutches . . . These folks are the real thing, though they act like I don’t know quite what.”

“Head ushers at the old parish!”

“Got it! Perfetto! Here’s the details on the first two homes. They’ll be corner mansions right on Austin Boulevard. Walking distance from the L. Inexpensive compared to other such houses in the metropolitan area . . . You want to put down an advance payment? I can get it for you wholesale.”

“No, thanks. I’ll have to show you my house sometime.”

“That’s what Finnbar says.”

“You work under severe constraints here?”

“No way. Uncle Finnton pretends to be an old fogey. All he wants is quality work—or what he thinks is quality work. He doesn’t peer over our shoulders. He sends my work to Cork and they go ape over it. Easiest job in the world. Maybe the most fun. I’ll miss himself, though. That blond is a distraction, but those things are inevitable, I guess. She’ll be good for Finnbar?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s what Uncle Finnton says. She sure is pretty. Can I have dibs on your next nanny?”

“Who would want to throw Finnbar into the Chicago River?”

“Business rivals from Ireland trying to break into the American market, real estate crooks out on the West Side, maybe River Forest types not wanting the competition, IRA dissidents in nursing homes.”

He shrugged.

“The cops,” I said, “are probably thinking the same things. Any talk here about these possibilities?”

“Uncle Finnton talks to Cork every day from the phone on his desk.

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