“And why would I interfere in Louie’s business?”
“Because I asked you to? Because I’m family, and this woman is important to me?”
“Since you changed your name to Crockett and are no longer a Capriccio, I do not see why you should be able to play the ‘family’ card. Do you?” The old man had a sour look on his face. Apparently the name change thing had not gone unnoticed and was not appreciated.
“I changed my name to Crockett for business reasons and because I did not want to be tarred with the brush of mob affiliations. You have known my feelings about the ‘family business’ for years. I have no intention of using my business education to further a crime syndicate’s interests.”
“I have told you that we are in the process of going legitimate, slowly divesting ourselves of questionable enterprises. There will be a time when the Capriccio interests are crime-free. Your participation could hasten this end.”
“Well, when that happens, let me know. In the meantime, I want nothing to do with the family business—especially if it involves breaking and entering my friend’s studio and doing damage. I have no idea why Louie is interested in Pansy’s Frocks. It’s not a high-dollar business and it does no importing or exporting. It really should be beneath his notice.”
Luigi returned with the requested tray of coffee and bottle of Strega. He poured the coffee and put the fine porcelain cups and saucers down in front of both Capriccios and then he poured the Strega into crystal glasses before he left the room, softly closing the door behind him. Billie had not tasted the slightly sweet, heavy herbal liqueur since the last time he’d visited the compound.
Antonio lifted the small crystal liqueur glass and turned it toward the sun streaming through the rippled glass of the multi-paned French doors of the library. The yellow color reflected off the rough plaster wall behind him. “Salute, my grandson. It is good to see you here. I have missed you. I often think of you playing with your noisy video game under my desk.” He sipped the liqueur. He had a sad look on his face. Billie knew he had always been Pops’s favorite grandson.
“Prosit, Pops. I wish it was different. But this incident just illustrates my point. Are you going to help me with this problem?”
“Don’t be so impatient. I will have a word with Louie and see what interest he has in this Pansy’s Frocks.”
“That is not an answer, Pops.”
“That is the best answer I can give you at the moment. Will you join me for lunch, Billie?”
Billie was torn. He hadn’t yet gotten what he wanted from the old man, and leaving in a huff wasn’t likely to get it for him. “Sure, Pops. I’ve missed you, too. More than you know. I wish things were different.”
Antonio rang for Luigi and ordered lunch served in the solarium. Billie really had missed the old man who had been more of a father to him than his own dad, who was always involved in “business.” They got up and walked through the first floor to the back of the house. The two-story glass solarium was full of exotic plants that scented the air with their blooms in the dead of winter. A glass table surrounded by comfortable chairs and a conversation area were located in the center of the space. A uniformed maid was laying out the luncheon settings. They sat and shortly the food was brought in. Verdi’s Aida was playing softly in the background. That was his grandfather’s favorite opera, probably because that had been his grandmother’s name.
Billie knew that Antonio had an Italian chef imported from Sicily, and there was no finer Italian food on the planet. The pasta con le sarde, fresh sardines sautéed in extra-virgin olive oil, deglazed with white wine, dressed with golden raisins, pine nuts and almonds, and lots of chopped finocchietto, then tossed with handmade pasta was great. It was one of Billie’s favorite dishes. It was paired with small, flakey pastries filled with provolone, prosciutto, and tomatoes grown in the estate’s greenhouse. The meal was complemented by a light red Italian wine. Crispy, cream-filled cannoli and strong coffee finished the meal. This was heaven for someone who basically lived on pizza and donuts. The band members were not known for the gourmet cuisine they enjoyed. It was usually “catch what you could, when you could.”
“So, Billie, tell me about this woman. Why is she important to you? Is she your innamorata?”
“It’s a little early in the game for that, Pops. I just know that she is important to me, and I don’t want my family doing her harm.”
“Apparently this means a lot to you?”
“Would I have come here with my hat in my hand if it didn’t? You know me better than that.”
“Yes, I do. You refused to accept my help with your school expenses and then joined that band. I do not understand that music.”
“Well, thank goodness for one small favor, then. It’s rock ‘n’ roll, Pops. It’s not meant to be understood. We have a recording contract and are going on a six-city tour later this month. I want this matter settled before I have to leave town on my ‘business.’”
“I will speak with Louie and see what I can do.”
“You are the head of the family, Pops. He will do what you say.”
“It’s amusing, grandson, that my being the head of the family has not guaranteed that you would do what I say.”
“That should be an indicator to you then of how strongly I feel about this matter. I have no intention of coming back into the family fold while the family is involved in criminal activities of which I don’t approve.”
“That pains my heart, Billie.” He shook his head sadly. “I would appreciate it if you would stop by your parents’ house before you leave and spend some time with your mother. She also misses you.” Now that Billie found hard to believe. Did she miss him between tennis and her luncheon dates, or between the appointment with her personal shopper and getting her nails done?
“Sure, Pops. I had intended to see if they were at home. Thank you for lunch, and for looking into this matter for me. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t be a stranger, Billie. Your old grandfather misses you.”
Billie drove around to the house he’d grown up in at the back of the estate. As he had anticipated, his mother was out to lunch at the country club with her friends. His father was at his office in the city. Well, that was another small thing to be grateful for. He’d come all the way out to Westchester County and managed to avoid both his parents. Hopefully, the Pansy-versus-Louie problem would be solved by a phone call from Pops to Louie. It shouldn’t take too long to find out.
* * * *
Antonio Capriccio sat back in the big chair behind his mahogany desk. The things he missed most in his life were his dear wife of sixty years, Aida Capriccio, who had passed away over ten years previously, and the companionship of his grandson, Billie. The day Billie had been born and been placed in his arms for the first time, he had felt a soul-deep connection he’d never had before, not even at the birth of his own children. It was as though his soul reached out and touched the infant with the head of dark curls. Billie had toddled around behind him in the garden and played in his office as a young child. It wasn’t until Billie had reached his teenage years and become aware that the Capriccio family was involved in organized crime that he had started to pull away.
The family had been in the Mafia since the 1920s when his grandfather, Carmine, had emigrated from Sicily. Antonio had taken over the family after his father, Giancarlo, had been killed in a war with a rival crime family for control of the New Jersey docks and Longshoremen’s Union in the 1950s. A man did what he had to do to secure his family and their place in this country. He hoped he would be able to keep the promise he’d made to Billie to clean up the family before his life was through, despite the opposition of other family members, including his sons. He was proud that Billie would be the first generation since Carmine to be completely free of the Mafia.
Antonio picked up the telephone on his desk and dialed Louie’s cell phone.
“Louie. You know who this is. I need to speak with you. Be at the estate at eight o�
�clock tonight.”
“Yes, sir. Can you give me any idea—”
“No. Be here. Be on time. I don’t keep late hours anymore.” He hung up. Billie had made a good point. What was Louie’s interest in this little dress shop? If it did not do enough business to launder profits from other enterprises and didn’t ship merchandise that could be used to conceal other contraband, what was the use of it? He would be interested in Louie’s answers to these questions.
* * * *
Louie Capriccio wiped the sweat off his forehead. What the fuck did the old man sitting in his castle in White Plains want with him? Why a command performance? He hadn’t been up to White Plains since Christmas, and not since the previous Christmas before that. This was most unusual and worrisome.
* * * *
When Billie got back to the loft late that afternoon, Pansy had set up a little corner in which to work. It was on the west side of the building, and sunlight was streaming in the tall factory windows. He walked over to her corner and bent down to kiss her cheek. “How’s it goin’, Princess?”
“Princess? Now I know you’ve lost it, Billie Crockett.”
“I just may have. Any more calls from Capriccio?”
“Nope. Nothing else from the Prince of the Garment Distict. Maybe he’s going to leave me alone.”
“I hope so. We’ll see.”
Logan walked up and slapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “Hey, bro. Everything go okay?”
“Yeah. That trip is always hard for me. I did luck out in that both my parents were out.” Pansy looked confused at this exchange but didn’t say anything. Good. He really didn’t want to have to explain his complicated family dynamics to her at this point in time. First, he wanted to see if the trip had done any good.
“Yeah, we’ll talk later. Hey, why don’t we call out for Chinese and eat in the apartment tonight? I know Melodie will want an update on the situation.”
“Sounds good. See what everyone wants and I’ll call Wan’s for delivery.” Billie was relieved. He didn’t want to leave Pansy alone in the loft and really didn’t want to have to go out. He’d rather be snuggled up on the couch with her again, but that was going to have to wait. Once Pansy was busy with whatever she had been doing before he came in, Billie and Logan went into Logan’s office, and he told him what had happened in White Plains. “So, it remains to be seen if Pops steps up for me or not.”
“Asking him to interfere in one of his crew’s business matters is serious. Although, as you said, there doesn’t appear to be any sound business reason for Capriccio to want to get a foot inside Pansy’s door.”
By seven o’clock, all of the band members plus Melodie had wandered into Logan’s apartment for Chinese food. The granite counter was covered with open white cardboard containers and a pot of wonton soup simmered on the stove. Everyone was scattered around the kitchen with loaded plates and chopsticks. It was a point of honor not to use a fork.
Pansy turned to Logan. “I appreciate your letting me store my collection here, Logan, and giving me some office space, but I really think I can go home to my own apartment. I don’t want to inconvenience you guys.”
“You’re welcome. We have lots of space, and Mel and I are staying at her place, so it’s no inconvenience.” When she started to protest, Logan gave her the lowered-brow Dom look and just stared her down. “Imagine how inconvenienced we would be if something happened to you. You’re Melodie’s best friend and have always been there for her. Don’t argue about this.”
Billie grinned. He couldn’t wait until he could get Pansy into the dungeon and do the same thing. He definitely had plans for Pansy over the coming vacation. He didn’t want to stress her out before Fashion Week and her show, but her night in the dungeon was coming. Yeah. Pansy was going to be a worthy opponent. He loved a challenge. His palm was definitely itching.
Melodie just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Give in gracefully, Panz. You don’t stand a chance against them when they get their Dom shorts in a twist.” That remark got her a smack on the butt from Logan, and Billie watched Pansy’s eyes widen as Melodie leaned back against Logan, pushed her butt back into his groin, and gave a little twist. It was clear that she was not the least bit intimidated by the stern Apache warrior.
Pansy and Melodie straightened up the kitchen and stored all the Chinese leftovers. Billie was anxious for everyone to leave, and he was on edge hoping for a call from Pops. He might not hear anything tonight, but he hoped for a quick resolution to the problem.
* * * *
The Capriccio Compound in White Plains, Westchester County, New York, Tuesday evening, 7:55 p.m., January 5, 2016
Louie Capriccio pulled up to the gate and was let in immediately. The old man must have advised the guards that he was expected. What the hell was this about? He had been wracking his brain all afternoon. Antonio Capriccio did not call Louis Capriccio in for a meeting without a good reason. He wasn’t high enough up in the chain of command to be able to just drop in for a visit with the old man. Antonio had his capos and consigliore and he would not call on Louis for action or advice.
Louie was shown into the library by that old crow dressed all in black, Luigi the butler. He bowed slightly to Antonio but did not put out his hand to shake. It would be up to the old man to make that gesture.
“Have a seat, Louie.” Antonio did not tell Luigi to bring coffee or drinks. Not a good sign. “So, Louie, tell me how your dress factory is doing.”
“Well, sir, on the books it’s getting by. The dip in the economy has affected manufacturing as well as other businesses. Off the books, it’s doing very well. I have been able to clean a substantial amount of cash, and also have been able to offer transportation and other services to others in and outside the family.”
“So, your money-laundering and smuggling business is active and profitable?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then may I ask why you are endangering those enterprises by putting pressure on Pansy’s Frocks, breaking and entering her business, and damaging her goods?”
“Uhhh…” Louie did not know how the old man had found out about Pansy’s Frocks, or why he had any interest in it. Louie didn’t know what to say.
“I’m waiting, and don’t think I’m going to give you enough time to make up something plausible. I want to hear your answer right now. What business reason do you have for interfering with Pansy’s Frocks?”
“Well, sir…”
“The truth, Louie. I hope you left your bullshit at the door. I’m too old to waste time with it.”
“I just liked her, wanted to get an in so I could, you know…”
“So you could you know? What about Maria and your children? Do they know?”
“No, sir. It was just a spur-of-the-moment idea when I tried to jack the price up for the samples we made up for her collection for Fashion Week. When she didn’t want to pay the increase, I offered to buy into her business. How did you even know about it?”
“That is none of your business. I know about everything that happens in this family.” The old man really looked pissed. “We don’t need your libido to bring additional focus of the Organized Crime Task Force to our enterprises. We are certainly already on their radar. That break-in may cause us problems. Do you think it went unnoticed that this woman’s place of business was vandalized the same day she had an altercation with you?”
“I didn’t think of that.” Now Louie was really scared.
“Well, that’s what happens when you think with your little head.” Antonio frowned. “It’s time you began to think with your big head if you have aspirations to rise in this organization. I would suggest you smooth this over with Pansy Nicholas and leave her alone in the future. Don’t disappoint me. That’s all. You may go.”
“Yes, sir.” Louie rose from his chair, bowed slightly again, and turned to leave. Thank God I’m getting out of here with my head still on my shoulders and breathing. There were rumors about the old man
’s younger days before he took over the organization. Louie didn’t want to find out if they were true. Of course, he had people for that kind of shit now.
The crow, Luigi, was standing at the entrance to the library holding the door. Did he have bat radar or what?
* * * *
Antonio leaned back in his chair and reached for the telephone. He dialed Billie’s cell phone and listened to it ring twice before it was picked up. “Hello. Pops?”
“Yes. I believe I have solved your problem. Let me know if your young woman has any more trouble of the nature we discussed.”
“Thanks, Pops. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t be a stranger. I miss you and I won’t be here forever, you know.” He hated to beg, but he wanted to see Billie once in a while.
“The band is leaving next week for the six-city tour, and we’ll be gone until the end of the month. I’ll come out for lunch when we get back. Thanks, Pops.” Billie disconnected the call.
Antonio sipped from the small crystal glass of Strega. He hoped Billie would remember his promise when he got back from his business trip. He picked up the phone and called one of his most trusted men. “Thomaso. Be sure there is no more damage done to that business we discussed. I spoke with my great-nephew and told him to cease and desist. I want to make sure he does, for several reasons.”
“I’ll take care of it, sir. Don’t give it another thought. I’m sure your great-nephew has seen the light of reason on this matter.”
“I hope so. He can be a stubborn ass sometimes. It’s not good for business. I don’t anticipate he will rise very far in the organization.”
* * * *
Pansy's Passion [The Black Dahlia Hotel 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 5
