stjorthotic Chapter 353 The Counterattack Plan Against Old Money Kennedy Lost in Thought
Chapter 353 The Counterattack Plan Against Old Money Kennedy Lost in Thought
Chapter 353 The Counterattack Plan Against Old Money Kennedy Lost in Thought
"Have you noticed something's off in Boston lately?"
Upon hearing this, Kennedy's facial muscles tensed up, his eyes flashed with a sharp light, and his lips even showed a wary curve.
"Did you hear that?" Kennedy asked coldly.
"People are betting heavily on the legal system—on Huang Meitang's life or death. The odds are said to be polarized. The latest development is that a major buyer in Boston is buying up large amounts of no-bonds, betting that Huang Meitang is doomed."
Larry slowly and deliberately explained each sentence clearly, so that the senator, who had just taken hallucinogenic alcohol, wouldn't misunderstand.
Kennedy nodded. "I've heard about it! It came from New York, and I didn't pay attention at first. But recently it's caused quite a stir, and a lot of people are betting on it."
Larry was a little surprised by the other party's answer, because according to him, Kennedy didn't even know that he was the one who issued the betting tickets.
However, he definitely couldn't be kept in the dark about this. After all, this guy had connections in both the legitimate and underworld circles, and if he inquired with the Dead Rabbit Gang, he would find out about it.
Larry was determined to make this clear in advance because the biggest risk among allies is not disagreement, but information asymmetry.
"Sir, I must clarify something first. I arranged this betting. But my purpose was not to cause trouble or attract the other side's attention—I simply wanted to amplify public opinion so that the newspapers could use the betting to sensationalize this doomed unjust verdict."
After Larry finished speaking, Kennedy stared at him blankly for two seconds, then suddenly laughed. "I knew it—who would come up with such a bizarre and creative idea? I should have believed it was you!"
Kennedy's words were somewhat impolite, but his tone was still playful. This didn't mean he didn't care, but rather it was a subtle way of expressing both his dissatisfaction and his indifference towards Larry.
Larry chuckled and said, "A little trick—and it's one of my discoveries, of course. If you attach a benefit to the bet, the scope and speed of its spread are unparalleled."
Kennedy nodded. "Okay! That's a brilliant move. I thought you could only use betting on a side in the presidential election."
As soon as the other person finished speaking, Larry immediately added, "Actually, the betting tickets mean a lot to you."
"Aren't we going to be running a national campaign together with Mr. Cleveland soon? By observing the changes in presidential election odds across the country, you can see how effective Mr. Cleveland's campaign is."
Kennedy suddenly became serious, looking up at the carriage roof in thought—after a while, he abruptly looked at Larry and exclaimed, "My God—how come I didn't think of that before? Can it really be done like this? To be honest, I want to argue with you. But my conscience stops me. Because I think you're right."
Larry smiled but didn't say anything.
Kennedy nodded, smiling, and said, "I've got your idea—I'll use this method to help Mr. Cleveland with his campaign recap. As a reward, next time I'll have that Bohemian woman personally serve you a glass of Green Goblet."
Larry thought to himself, "Great! Great!" But what came out of his mouth was, "No rush. Let's get back to the point. The betting incident was just a side note. The real issue is that someone is targeting this matter—to be honest, it's definitely not about the betting tickets, because that's not that important. I think it's most likely a declaration of war against your reputation."
Kennedy's face turned cold again. He nodded and said, "It's Thomas Sheey. This guy has suddenly started vying for my community's voters—it's blatant."
"That's one aspect, but what's more dangerous is—" Larry said in a low voice, "I heard from the management of the Boston Globe that the reason why public opinion has shifted this time is that Republican bigwigs are secretly targeting immigrants. They are using the method of throwing money at buses to lure media reporters to publish information that is unfavorable to Huang Meitang."
Kennedy remained silent for a while before looking up at Larry with a puzzled look in his eyes, as if asking, "What should we do?"
Larry didn't rush to answer, and silently looked at Kennedy, no longer waiting for his reply.
After a brief standoff, Kennedy finally couldn't help but ask, "With their collaboration, there must be someone acting as a go-between. I wonder what they're really up to?"
"Tell me first, what have you been up to lately? I haven't been back to Boston in a long time, and I don't know what you were doing before Sheehan came out. Did you offend them?" Larry asked.
Kennedy thought for a moment, "Then it can only be the Municipal Employees Localization Act. This is a bill I pushed for that requires local residents to be given priority in hiring grassroots civil servants such as police officers, firefighters, and teachers. Of course, there's no need to hide the fact that I did this to expand the upward mobility channels for immigrants and make it easier for them to become municipal employees."
Larry hadn't known this information before, but after hearing it, the whole logic made sense. "Look—I think this is what angered them." Larry tapped the wooden chair, expressing his surprise.
"But that doesn't explain why the top officials of both parties can connect. Especially Shie, who also controls two constituencies. The proposal would also benefit him." Kennedy still looked puzzled.
“There’s a bigger benefit!” Larry said confidently. “Think again? Besides your bill, what other moves have they made recently? Or any other unusual arrangements in Boston?”
Kennedy began to ponder deeply, perhaps absinthe had instilled in him a powerful urge to express himself and a vivid imagination. Suddenly, Kennedy clapped his hands together dramatically. "Yes! Recently, the city government commissioned the Rapid Transit Commission" to study whether London's subway project could be replicated in Boston. The initial plan, it's said, is to run 1.5 miles from Park Street to Boyleston.
Larry frowned, thinking, "Only 1.5 miles? This isn't a big project."
But after Kennedy's analysis, Larry finally understood the real problem.
At that time, there were no tunnel boring machines or shield tunneling machines. To build a subway, tunnel workers, stonemasons, and blacksmiths had to be sent to dig the tunnel step by step while erecting scaffolding to support it. This was a very long project. The total workforce required was at least two thousand people.
Normally, these kinds of tiring and low-paying jobs would naturally fall to immigrants, especially impoverished Irish people and hardworking Chinese.
As a result, Kennedy, who has a large immigrant base, will naturally benefit.
At this point, both of them understood perfectly.
Larry smiled. "That makes sense! Sir, building a subway is a huge undertaking that brings both fame and fortune. And the subway may be extended, or a second or third line may be built. The employer has a lot of leeway in this—who to give the road construction to? How much money to pay? These are all related to huge economic interests and go against the hearts and minds of the immigrant community."
Kennedy nodded heavily. "No wonder they suddenly started attacking me—I initially took this project for granted and never thought it would be this complicated."
As he spoke, Kennedy turned to Larry and finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind for so long, "So, Mr. Livingston, what should I do?"
Larry smiled slightly.
There was an unspoken understanding between the two: if Kennedy genuinely sought Larry's advice and asked, "What should I do?"
Generally, Kennedy receives a reward after Larry comes up with an idea.
In this sense, Kennedy was quite particular. This may also be one of the principles that enabled him to navigate both the legal and illegal worlds.
Larry thought for a moment before saying, "They don't want to convict Huang Meitang, they want to give you a political death sentence. But it's clear that their conviction will have to go through this case—in my opinion, instead of fighting them—we should help them this time."
Kennedy looked surprised. "You mean—"
"Two tactics, one overt and one covert. Overtly, mobilize your community's Leviathan—or what you call the Irish Mutual Aid Society. Utilize the Catholic priest network to instill in them the belief that Chinese cases are not merely about discrimination against Chinese people, but about fighting for their own civil rights. The Adams family plans to continue suppressing immigrants, with Chinese people bearing the brunt. The Irish are next—"
Larry composed himself and continued passionately, "If they dare to burn down Chinatown today, they'll dare to burn down a Catholic church tomorrow. So Huang Meitang isn't just Chinese; he represents all immigrants! If we immigrants don't stand up when they persecute Chinese today, no one will stand up when they persecute Irish tomorrow!"
Don't think that hanging Huang Meitang is a victory! For whom does Huang Meitang's death knell toll? Not for the Chinese. No man is an island. And don't ask for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for all immigrants who come to America!
In this short passage, Larry has incorporated at least several classic quotes or passages that are not yet relevant. The sentences themselves are thought-provoking, and Larry's passionate and expressive delivery only amplifies this.
For a moment, even the old fox Kennedy was stunned.
Kennedy blinked and suddenly said, "Yes! That makes sense, especially for the Irish. I'm fighting for their rights and local jobs, while they're panicking about being expelled like the Chinese—these two things aren't contradictory."
Larry nodded emphatically, "Yes! So the Huang Meitang case must transcend the personal narrative and be changed to a class-based narrative—no, a common narrative of immigrant groups—to bring together the interests of immigrants and oppose the Puritans' counterattack against them."
By doing so, you can both deflect their attacks on you—by dividing that segment of the electorate—and, within a new narrative, become a voice in the fight for immigrant justice.
Kennedy nodded repeatedly, his eyes staring blankly at Larry, clearly lost in thought about what he should do next.
Larry concluded seriously, "No one will risk their true feelings just to watch the spectacle. We must address their interests! Tell all immigrants that no one is an island, and if justice dies, no one can survive in the New World."
"Yes! You're right—" Kennedy slammed his fist into his palm, a joyful smile spreading across his face. "Now I'm on the moral high ground. Logically and morally, Adams and the others can no longer use this to attack me!"
Seeing that Kennedy had finally gotten around the bend, Larry smiled, leaned back in his chair, and looked relaxed.
Kennedy nodded as he thought about it. After a while, he suddenly asked, "You just mentioned two paths, one overt and one covert."
You've already mentioned the obvious one, but what about the covert one?
Larry smiled, thinking to himself that he had finally gotten to the point.
"Sir—this is where we'll have to use the betting tickets. Not only can we give immigrants fighting for justice a little something, but we can also make the big shots bleed a bit!"
A sweet treat? Or bleeding?
Hearing Larry's words, Kennedy was somewhat stunned. Even after taking the "Green Goblin," even with his brain working at full speed—Kennedy couldn't fathom how the betting ticket could have such a powerful effect—
Gudong!
Kennedy swallowed hard and licked his dry lips before asking, "—I'm all ears."
Larry smiled and leaned closer, saying, "Tomorrow's Saturday, so when you're organizing the community meeting tonight, we'll do it this way—"
The two carriages went straight to the South Port District and it took them more than an hour to reach the Ford Motor Company.
Upon hearing the news that the two shareholders had come to confront him in a menacing manner, Henry Ford panicked for a moment. He jumped up from behind his desk, threw away his cigar, and hurriedly ran to the door to greet them.
Halfway there, Henry Ford suddenly remembered something, so he turned back to the workshop, hurriedly put on a greasy apron, rubbed his hands on the bearings with some black machine oil, and then hurriedly came out.
At the entrance of Ford Motor Company, two carriages had already stopped. The coachmen jumped down from the driver's seat and respectfully opened the carriage doors.
Ford hurriedly stepped forward and stood beside Kennedy's carriage, bracing himself for Kennedy's wrath.
But the first one to step down was Larry Livingston.
But Kennedy, the second to come down, showed no anger or coldness; instead, he appeared completely distracted.
"Mr. Ford, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Larry greeted him with a smile, but clearly, Larry noticed the greasy engine oil on Ford's clothes and didn't move closer, but instead waved.
Kennedy, who had been giving him the cold shoulder all this time, took two steps forward indifferently, shook Ford's hand, and said, "Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Ford. Oh, Mr. Livingston asked me to come with him to take a look around the company. I think—since you are working on research and development, and I really don't know anything about cars or mechanics—then Mr. Livingston will handle the communication for you. I have to go back now."
Henry Ford was completely dumbfounded.
Kennedy was completely unlike his previous composure, as if he had been seduced and possessed by some demon.
Not only did he not yell at himself, he even wanted to leave immediately.
What's going on?
Henry Ford turned his gaze to Larry, who had a faint smile on his face.
Kennedy turned to look at Larry, and said thoughtfully, "Mr. Livingston, would you please take a look at Mr. Ford's technical approach? I'll go back to take care of my business now—"
"Okay, Senator! Goodbye!" Larry said with a smile.
Kennedy nodded, then turned to Ford and said, "Goodbye, Mr. Ford!"
Goodbye?! Mr. Kennedy is being polite to me.
I was so angry when I ate it before, what's wrong with me today?
Ford nodded blankly and replied, "Goodbye, Senator."
Kennedy nodded to the two of them, then returned to his carriage.
The carriage started moving again, speeding back the way it came.
Henry Ford looked at Larry, completely bewildered, and asked, "Senator—what...what happened to him?"
Larry laughed and said, "Perhaps it's urgent business. It's rare to see such a dedicated senator these days!"
Meanwhile, on the carriage.
Kennedy carefully considered Larry's idea for a long time and concluded that it was quite feasible.
Although the carriage was empty, Kennedy nodded at the seat Larry had been sitting in. "You're right—this will force them to comply! You're brilliant, Larry Livingston."
As he spoke, Kennedy smiled and wiped his face with his hand.
A strong smell of engine oil hit his nostrils, and he suddenly realized that his right hand was covered in black engine oil.
No need to even think about it! My face is probably covered in engine oil right now too.
Kennedy's face showed resentment. He took out a handkerchief to wipe his face and cursed under his breath.
"That damn idiot! I'm getting out of Ford sooner or later—you moron! Bastard!"
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