by Bill Sage
When it was 6:30, he sat in the plaid chair again and pulled the marble table closer. Then he took out his tan address book, a gift from Ben after Jake had admired his. He laid it on the table, opening it to the first page. Al’s number in bold black numbers.
Then Jake dialed Al’s phone.
“Al, it’s Jake.”
“You’re here. LA or the Marriott?”
“Marriott, in Irvine.”
“That business you mentioned?”
“Gotta talk to you about it,” Jake said.
“Oh, okay. I gotta talk to you too. Not on the phone.”
“Let’s meet.”
“Want to come over here?” Al asked.
“No, let’s do it tomorrow.”
“What about Franco’s? You know where it is.”
“I’ll ask the doorman.”
“Is 6:00 okay?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Sure, you don’t want to talk now? Over here.”
“No, tomorrow’s better.”
“What, you afraid to go out at night?”
“Yeah, there’s bad guys out there.” Jake paused then he said, “I’ll see you at Franco’s at six.”
Al put down the phone and settled back into the couch. Jake, the best friend he ever had, was sitting in a hotel room just a few miles away. But this wasn’t like all the other times. This time Jake sounded troubled and needed his help.
The more Al thought about it, the more he began to worry. It could be something serious. And why was it important for Jake to talk to him? Was it something involving the law? Had he been arrested?
He knew one thing for sure, no matter what it was, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Jake. They went back too far, like brothers.
With Jake now in town, Al was thinking Jake could wipe out his Ward problem in a heartbeat and enjoy doing it. He stepped into the kitchen and poured a glass of rye. Walking back to the couch, he spotted Linda’s bracelet on a side table. She’d left it there last night.
That reminded Al he had good news for Jake. He couldn’t wait to tell him that he’d proposed to Linda.
Jake never understood why Al hadn’t popped the question. He pestered Al about it for almost the entire time they’d dated. “She’s gorgeous and she loves you. You’re an idiot”.
He even made Al promise that he’d make him be his best man and vowed to whack him if he didn’t.
Tomorrow. He’d tell him tomorrow.
15
AL ARRIVED AT FRANCO’S TRATTORIA around 6:00 in the evening.
As Al walked into the bar, he saw Jake sitting at a table with his back against the wall. Before Al reached the table, Jake rose, smiled, and came around to shake hands. “You look great.”
“Jake, it's so good to see you,” Al said, gripping his hand. Although they were the same age, Al looked nearly 10 years younger.
They sat down, sitting across from each other at a small table. They ordered drinks.
Roth could see that Jake seemed a little tense. He knew from experience not to rush things, just relax and wait. Let Jake take his time.
After about a minute of awkward silence, Jake took a swig and stared at Al. “I got a heavy situation and I’m gonna need your help.”
“You know I’ll do anything.”
“I appreciate that.” Jake paused then looking thoughtful, he said, “But this is big.”
“Okay,” Al said, nodding.
“Otherwise, I wouldn't wanna drag you into my shit.”
Nether spoke for a few seconds.
“I tried to handle it by myself,” Jake said.
“Okay, Jake, cut the crap. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Jake sighed, took another swallow of Scotch. Then he told Al about getting the contract to clip Mangano and how it turned into a “piece of shit” for him.
“Was Mangano trying to work off a beef?” Al asked.
“No, he thought there was a contract out on him. That’s why he went to DEA.”
“But there wasn’t?”
“That’s right. He was wrong.”
As Al listened, he searched his memory, trying to think why the name “Mangano” sounded so familiar. Was it one of the attorneys? A cop? A case in his courtroom?
“So now he’s on trial for murder,” Jake said.
Al nodded and waited to hear more.
“But because some assholes told the cops they’d heard Mangano say that if he’d ever be charged with a heavy beef, he’d jump bail and kill any cops that came to arrest him, the judge in his case denied bail. So now he’s rotting in jail.”
“Yeah, I get it,” Al said, but he could tell from the way Jake was looking at him he was holding back something.
“And if he gets convicted, he’ll go to the joint. Then I’ll never get to him. If he’s found not guilty, they’ll take him into the witness protection program. So either way, I’m fucked.”
Then it hit Al. He finally figured out why the name “Mangano” sounded so familiar. And now he knew why Jake had come to him. The Mangano case was set for trial in Al Roth’s court! It was Roth himself who’d refused to allow Mangano to post bail.
“Who’s the idiot judge who denied him bail?” Al asked.
Jake laughed. “You may know him. A real dickhead.”
Then Al laughed too.
“So now Claudio’s fuckin’ furious. He calls me and says if Mangano's not taken out, I will be.”
“Shit, that’s bad.” But Al knew Jake wasn’t worried about Claudio’s threat. Jake liked violence; he made his living out of it. He’d always been that way.
One time when they were in high school, one of the Purples took them with him when he had to muscle a guy who’d been late in making his loan payment. Jake enjoyed seeing the guy get battered with a baseball bat.
Al almost threw up.
“So that’s it. Now I’m the loser who’s the hunted, not the other way around,” Jake said.
Jake waited a few seconds before going on. “So I’ve come up with something. An idea how I can get him.” Jake paused and eyed Al. “This is where you come in.”
“Okay.”
“Here’s what I do. I meet with Claudio. I tell him what we gotta do, and he goes for it. He goes to see Mangano. Nick’s happy when he shows up. Claudio, naturally, doesn't say nothing about knowing anything about the protection thing. He tells Mangano the higher-ups have worked out a way for him to beat the murder rap.”
“So he’s happy about that?”
“Yeah, and Claudio also tells him they hired a lawyer for him—Arnold Goldman. He’s gonna come in and take over the case. Mangano's happy about that too.”
“Goldman,” Al said. “He does a lot of work for the Mafia.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Big asshole, but a fearless infighter.”
“That’s right, and Mangano knows that. So now he doesn't know what to think. He starts thinking maybe there ain’t no contract on him. And if the organization is using their pull to help him, he should go along. That’s what he’s thinking.”
Al nodded in agreement.
“Claudio tells Goldman the bosses want him to work with me. They got something going for Nick. A way for him to beat the rap and I’m the go-between. They want him to do what I say. Goldman says he's got no problem with that. If that's what they want, that's what he'll do. He gets paid no matter what. So now it's up to me.”
“Do something at the trial?”
“Yeah.” Jake took a quick good look at Al. “Here's what I'm thinking. I’ll be able to control Goldman and through him, Mangano. So I’m hoping you could tell me things Goldman could do at the trial. Things that would help you do something in the case. Steer it. You know what I mean?”
Jake stopped there and let it rest. Then he cocked his head to one side and eyed Al through squinted eyes.
Al’s mind flashed back to the Pontiac robbery Jake dragged him into when they were 17 years old.
“One thing I can assur
e you,” Jake continued. “If Mangano gets out, he'll be killed in a week. It's not like he'll be getting away with murder and going back on the streets.”
“I know that.”
As Al took a sip of Scotch he was thinking that a lot of crap was coming at him all at once. First it was Ward, now it’s this.
The waitress passed by, and Al ordered more Scotch.
After a moment or two of silence, Jake lifted his glass and took another swallow. Then he fired off one of his notorious stares.
Seeing the menacing look etched on Jake’s face, Al almost broke out laughing. He guessed Jake didn’t even know he was doing it. Al turned away because he knew if he kept looking, he’d likely smile or even worse.
“So that’s it,” Jake said, leaning back.
Al turned back around, managing to get his face to look serious again. “Remember when that Irish guy almost cracked my skull with a pool cue?”
“Yeah, at Tony’s.”
“You saved my ass and took a bottle to the head for your efforts.”
Jake sat still.
“There’s no fucking way I wouldn’t help you. I’ll do everything within my power.”
They stopped talking as the hostess came over to the couple sitting next to them.
“Hi, Judge Roth,” the hostess said.
“Hi, Kay.”
After she took the couple’s drinks and led them into the dining room, Jake put his hand on the edge of the table and pushed himself back against the wall. “I know you haven’t had time to think about it, but whaddaya think?”
“My options are limited. It’s not a court trial, so it’s up to the jury not me. And as far as dismissing it on some ground, I don’t know how that would work out. I’ll have to look for another way.”
Jake stared at Al then turned away.
“I’ll find a way,” Al said with determined look on his face.
“Enough of my shit,” Jake said. “Let's talk about your situation.”
Al nodded then stood up and took off his suit coat.
16
AL DRAPED HIS COAT ON AN EMPTY CHAIR and sat back down. Loosening his tie, he said, “Here’s what happened. Some asshole from a congressman’s office is trying to blackmail me into giving their guy no time.”
“Munich?”
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck? How would they know anything about that? Was a hundred years ago.”
“Well, I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Don’t look at me. I didn’t either.”
Al eyed Jake for a couple of seconds. Jake didn’t move a muscle, just stared back.
“Doesn’t matter. They know and unless I give their guy no time, they’re gonna give it to the newspapers,” Al said.
“Fuck ‘im. I’ll handle it for you. Be easy.”
But Al was having second thoughts about Ward. Thinking that unleashing Jake at this point could be excessive. Things were under control, Ward seemed to be okay with getting the diagnostic report and waiting until Ryan came up for sentencing again.
But that would only last until the next sentencing hearing. If Roth was unable to convince Ward to drop his attempt to blackmail him and Roth still intended to send Ryan to prison, letting Jake rub out Ward before he sentenced Ryan would be something he’d have to seriously consider.
“I’m waiting to see what happens,” Roth said.
“What’s there to think about?” Jake said, frowning. “You fuck with someone, you pay the price. That’s it.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Al said in an indignant tone. But he was just faking it. He wanted to do a preemptive strike on Jake’s nagging. “I’m the guy who came up with that rule! And we always followed it.”
“Yeah,” Jake said, eyeing Al.
Al could tell that Jake thought he was wimping out on him. It was plastered all over his face. “When the time is right, you’ll take him out.” Al paused to gauge Jake’s reaction. “Okay?”
“It’s up to you,” Jake said, giving Al an icy look.
“Oh, now I feel better.”
Jake paused then said, “Not that I want to make a big deal out of it, but taking your time, thinking shit out is the way you’ve always been.”
“What the fuck you talking about?” Al shot back. “Remember Munich? You were jerking yourself off until I gave you a plan and put it into operation. If it weren’t for me, you would’ve fucked up killing Gerard and you’d still be in a stockade somewhere in Germany, eating bratwurst and sauerkraut.”
Jake smiled, looked away, then said, “That was different.”
Al scoffed, but didn’t say anything. He knew Jake was impatient and was only looking out for him.
They sat in silence for a few moments.
Then Roth tried to switch the conversation to something else. “Any other ideas? I mean from your point of view. Is there anything I could do short of taking him out that would make him back off?”
“My point of view? You mean as public enemy number one?”
“Forget it. I just thinking.”
“I never did shit like that, so I don’t have any inside ideas of what you could do. Besides, you know me. I only know one thing.”
“And our friend in Munich was your first.”
“Yeah. That prick got what he deserved. I wish I could do it again,” Jake said with a mournful look. Then he looked away.
Al wondered if Jake would ever get over the unbearable pain he’d suffered after what happened to Elsa Younger, the German girl Jake fell in love with in Munich, but he wouldn’t ask.
There’d never be a good time to talk about it.
After a few minutes, Al said, “I asked Linda to marry me.”
“What did she say?”
Al smiled.
“She’s one of the best-looking broads I’ve ever seen.” Jake paused to take a sip of Scotch. “She’s too good for you.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. I know.”
“She’s gonna make you very happy. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
“I’ll let you know when we’ve set a date. We want you to be our best man. It was her idea.”
“Let me know. I’d love to be your best man.”
“It couldn’t be any other way.”
Minutes later, Jake asked for the check and turned to face Al. “I gotta get going.”
“I thought we’d have dinner here. My treat.”
“Already made plans. Someone I met on the plane.”
“That’s not you,” Al said smiling as he got up and came around to where Jake was sitting.
“Learned from the master,” Jake said, smiling.
Al chuckled as he put on his suit coat.
Jake stood up and gripped Al’s hand. “I wish it was something else. But this—”
“Jake, don’t worry, it’s not that big of a deal.”
Jake smiled, a warm glow in his eyes. “Hey, don’t forget to say hello to Linda for me and tell her I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t treat her nice.”
“You’re all talk.”
Jake paid the check and they walked to the door. When they were outside, Jake stopped and said, “So whaddaya think? Is it possible?”
Al eyed Jake. “I want to look at the file and see what I can come up with. Call me in a couple days.”
“Okay.” Jake paused then said, “And I’ll take care of that other matter for you. Just let me know.”
“You’re the first person I’d call.”
Returning home, Roth went to his den. Turned on the TV, lowered the sound and sank into the leather couch. No lights.
Now that he remembered the Mangano case, he tried to call up some of the details. He knew he’d had a pretrial conference with the DA and defense attorney. That happened in every case.
He went to kitchen, poured a drink of rye and returned to the den. Two swallows later he started recalling something the DA had said. “It’s a straight-forward murder case, Your Honor. No complicated issues.”
He mulled over dismissing the case on some technical ground. But quickly ruled that out because Mangano was charged with a felony. So even if he dismissed the case, the DA’s investigator would immediately re-arrest Mangano as soon as he stepped out of the courtroom.
Then they’d be right back to where they started.
He put it out of his mind for now. He’d have to work on it at the courthouse where he had the court file and access to other information.
17
THE DAY AFTER AL AND JAKE met at Franco’s, Jake called Al and said he wanted to meet with him after court. He refused to say what it was about.
Shortly after Al arrived home, Jake showed up. Al poured them shots of rye and they sat in the living room.
Al could see that Jake seemed troubled. Wasn't his usual self, too quiet. Just sat on the couch, lifeless.
“What's up? You said you wanted to talk about something.”
Jake didn’t answer. Al could see that something was bothering him.
“What, you don't like Southern California?”
Jake sighed and looked at Al. Then he got up and went to the window. Stood there and looked out.
Al remained silent, waiting. Jake needed more time.
A few moments later, Jake stepped over to where Al was sitting. “I been thinking things out.” He hesitated a bit and then said, “Maybe I'm pushing it. Too much of a risk for you.”
“Get out of here,” Al said with a frown. Jake was now pissing him off.
“No, I don’t feel right about it.”
“You’re full of shit. Drop it.”
“I don’t know. Now it's different. It’s not like when we were hanging out on 12th Street or in the army.”
“Hey, zip it. You’re acting like a schmuck. I said I’d do it because that’s what I want to do.”
Jake said nothing, kept looking down.
“And believe me, it’s not such a bad thing I’ll be doing. Like you know, I won’t be letting a guilty guy go free. You’ll make sure that won’t happen.”
Jake stared at him, then looked away.
