by Joe Corso
The Starlight Club 5
Retribution
Joe Corso
©Black Horse Publishing
www.blackhorsepublishing.com
© 2014 by Joe Corso. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
First printing
ISBN: 978-0-578-11153-7 PUBLISHED BY BLACK HORSE PUBLISHING
www.blackhorsepublishing.com
Printed in the United States of America The Starlight Club 5 is printed in Times New Roman
Thanks to Marina Shipova for her outstanding cover artwork
To Joe D’Albert Jr. for his help with the back cover and spine.
And to Philip Newey for his superb editing of this manuscript.
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
Epilogue
Prologue
Present
Bobby opened the side door to the parking area alongside his daughter’s house only to be greeted by a chilling winter gust of freezing air. He made the mistake of looking up at the overcast skies. Heavy falling snow covered his face and droplets of melted ice flowed under the collar of his heavy overcoat and down his neck. His second mistake was not pulling the collar of his heavy winter coat up, which would have kept the icy water out. He had intended to leave for his home in Florida this morning but that wouldn’t be happening—not today—and he probably wouldn’t be leaving until the weather cleared and the roads were safer for travel. He wouldn't be leaving for a few days. Eighteen inches of snow had fallen last night, coating the neighborhood with a beautiful white mantle. It looked like a Hallmark Christmas card. Not to make the same mistake twice he pulled up his coat collar and looked up again, hoping to see a sign of the weather changing, but there was no sign of the snow letting up anytime soon. Before going to bed last night Bobby had placed his luggage in the trunk of his car hoping to get an early start this morning. He turned and went back into the house.
Ted had called and said he’d be home early today. Bobby would wait until Ted took out the large John Deere riding snow blower he kept covered in the garage, with a full gas tank for just such an emergency. The thought of Ted coming home early relaxed him as he walked back into the house.
“Come on, Dad. Relax in the den and put the TV on while I put on a fresh pot of coffee. Schools are closed because of the weather and the kids are out playing in the snow with their friends.”
Lynn came into the den holding a tray with two small cups, a small pot of espresso coffee and her father’s favorite—a bottle of black sambuca.
“Thanks, Lynn. This coffee sure hits the spot and the sambuca will certainly warm me up.” Bobby looked up at his daughter sadly. “I’m sorry you’ll have to put up with me a few days longer, Lynn. I know how busy you are, taking care of your own family, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome. You know what I mean.”
“Dad, how can you say that. You’re no bother at all to me. In fact I’m kind of glad you have to remain here a little longer, because when you leave I’ll miss you.”
“That’s very nice to hear, Lynn, and it makes an old man feel wanted.”
“Wanted is the wrong word, Dad . . . Needed is the correct word. We need you, Dad, and don’t ever think you’re overstaying your welcome, because you’re not.”
Hearing his daughter say this brought a lump to his throat. “That’s the nicest thing anyone could say to me. Now I have a question for you.”
“Sure, Dad, what is it?”
Bobby smiled and leaned back in the comfortable leather recliner and took a sip of his coffee before speaking. “Are you busy right now, Lynn? Do you have a few minutes to spend with me?”
“Sure, Dad. I’m free until Ted gets home and that won’t be for another few hours. Why?”
“Well, since I’m not going anywhere, I thought I’d continue the story of the Starlight Club.”
“Dad, I was talking to Ted about the Starlight Club and he became interested in the story. He said he has a client who’s a writer friend of his and he intends to talk to him about it. But that’s down the road a bit. Go ahead, Dad, and tell me more about the Club and all the wonderful characters that hung around there.”
“Okay, Lynn. This story takes place in 1963 and it concerns Big Red’s move to Las Vegas and the problems he encountered there. Bennett Williams his attorney had petitioned the government and managed to clear Red’s name, and now he was free to go wherever he wanted without fear of being arrested; and the first place he wanted to go to was Las Vegas. I know the story because Red told me he was thinking of buying one or maybe two casinos in Las Vegas, and he wanted me to be the meat and poultry buyer for his new casinos. But the harder he tried to make the move to the west coast, the harder it became to leave Queens.”
Lynn looked confused. “Why was that, Dad?”
“Well you see, Lynn, Queens was his cash cow. The forces of destiny, Lynn, as Red liked to say—or whatever force it was that kept placing obstacles in his path, preventing him from leaving Queens. Red planned to leave his captains in charge so they could continue to control the action in Queens no matter where he relocated the family. He even considered controlling his movie studio and his pending interests in Vegas from Queens. I was prepared to leave for Las Vegas with him, but one night I got a call from Red telling me that the trip had to be delayed due to some unexpected business considerations.” The old man paused for a moment. “Now that I think about it, the unexpected business he mentioned would be a good place to begin this story.”
CHAPTER 1
Piss Clam knocked once, opened the door to Red’s office and popped his head in. “Doc’s here to see you. Says it’s important.”
“Doc’s here this early in the morning? Must really be important. Show him in.”
Doc was the neighborhood captain, the guy everyone went to when they needed a favor. Doc didn’t differentiate between legitimate folks and gangsters. He helped everyone. Red stood and greeted the old man.
“Doc, what brings you here so early? You’re not in trouble are you?”
Doc laughed. “Me? In trouble? The day I can’t get myself out of trouble is the day I’ll retire. No, I’m in
no trouble. In fact it’s just the opposite. I have some good news for you. I came across a bit of business I thought you’d be interested in. Not only is it good for you, it’s an insurance policy for me.”
Red wondered what Doc meant. He’d never seen his usually reserved friend so excited about a business project before. Doc continued his spiel.
“Red. I have a very big, very lucrative and I might add a very legitimate business proposition for you, but I must have your decision before I leave.”
Red’s interest was piqued. He was always looking for new ways of making money. It wasn’t just the money, it was the action, the means of getting the money, that interested him. “What’s the rush, Doc?” What sort of business is it and how do I fit in?”
Even though Doc was sitting in Red’s air conditioned office he took a hanky from his jacket pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He leaned forward, his face lit up in a big shit eating grin, and said, “I hit the jackpot, Red. The one bit of business I’ve been waiting for all of my life, and it’s finally passed my desk.”
Doc raised one eyebrow and his eyes opened wide, waiting for Red to ask him what his big deal was. Red almost laughed at the comical expression on Doc’s face but he managed to stifle it. Doc wiped his forehead again and leaned back in his chair as if the news he was about to share with Red was so heavy it weighed him down. Red sat back and smiled. He loved Doc and was happy to see him in a position to make some serious cash.
“Okay, Doc, you have my attention. How can I help you?”
“How would you like a little construction work to come your way, for your construction company?”
“For Tullo and DiMarco? Sure I would. Why?”
Doc reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “It’s all right here, Red. I got us a construction contract to incorporate Horace Harding Boulevard into the Long Island Expressway, which is going to extend the LIE from Junction Boulevard to the Nassau County line. Horace Harding Boulevard is still an over-congested country road that your company will make part of the I-95 Interstate complex. Now, make my day and tell me you and your boys can handle a job this big?” Doc held his breath waiting for Red’s answer.
Red smiled, showing a set of perfect white teeth. “Are you kidding? Of course we can handle it. This is great, Doc. Besides putting a large chunk of cash in our pockets, building the LIE will sure help traffic in this part of Queens.”
“And that’s the God’s honest truth,” Doc said. “The LIE will run along the entire east coast and the contract will start from the city and extend all the way out to Long Island, but our section of the contract starts at Junction Boulevard.”
Doc handed Red the envelope. Red opened it and read the proposal.
“Holy Christ, $25 million! Goddamn but that’s a lot of money.”
“It sure is and the profit’s all ours, if you’re sure you can handle the job.”
“What do you mean, if I can handle the job? You get me a contract like this and I’ll sure as hell handle it. Now what do I have to do?”
Doc pointed to the check marks on the contract. “You’re the President, right?”
Red nodded. “That’s right.”
“Good. Sign on the line that says ‘contractor’, write ‘President’ in the title space, then sign your name on the dotted line. Then write your initials by the check marks. The Democratic Party owes me a lot of IOUs and this contract is a payback for all the work I’ve done in getting their candidates elected.”
Red put the signed contract in the envelope and handed it back to Doc, who then placed it in his inner jacket pocket.
“When I walk out that door,” Doc said, pointing to the front door, “I’m heading straight to Democrat headquarters and handing them this signed contract. I’ll let them know that as soon as they give us the go ahead, we’re ready to start work on our section of the Expressway.” Doc stopped talking for a moment, pondering something, then looked thoughtfully at Red. “It’s too bad they wouldn’t give me the contract for the entire borough of Queens, but I know there are lot of other people in the party they have to take care of—the other big contributors who also deserve a slice of the pie.” This kind of padronism was a big part of doing business in New York City. “The LIE is the perfect cash cow for paying everyone back for helping the party. Another big contributor was given the bid for another part of the expressway near the city line, even though he wasn’t the low bidder for the job. But we have no reason to complain. We received a fair portion of the project; and besides, twenty-five million ain’t a bad day’s work now is it?”
Red agreed. “It sure isn’t, Doc. But now you’re here, how are you making out with getting us the contract for the construction of the World’s Fair?”
Doc smiled. “Geez, Red, nobody gets the construction contract to build the whole World’s Fair.”
“That’s too bad,” Red remarked. “I would have liked to get me a piece of that.”
“Hell, Red, if that’s all you want, then I’m going to make your day. While I couldn’t get you a contract to build the entire World’s Fair, I did secure contracts to build two buildings, the Spanish Pavilion and the Ford Pavilion.”
“Wow, Doc, that’s fantastic news. The expressway and the World’s Fair jobs!”
Doc looked a lot like Frank Morgan, who played the Wizard in The Wizard Oz, when he smiled, and at that moment he was smiling broadly. “I was so anxious to tell you about the highway contract I forgot to mention the World’s Fair jobs.”
“Look, Doc, we haven’t discussed your percentage yet, but you’re going to get 10 percent and it will come right off the top.”
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear.” Doc made his living by helping people and he never put a price on his services or asked anyone for money, but everyone who came to him for help understood they were expected to pay him something. That was how he made his living.
The following morning Red called a meeting with his construction partners, and for the entire week Frank Tullo, Freddie DiMarco, Tarzan and Trenchie were in Red’s office, looking over the architectural plans for the construction of their section of the LIE. Construction wasn’t Red’s strong suit but that’s why he had the two experienced construction men as his partners. Red, being the organizer he was, asked the questions, and allowed both Tullo and DiMarco to describe how they would go about building this section of the Long Island Expressway, while adhering to the requirements in the contract.
Three years ago Red bought a partnership in the construction firm of Tullo and DiMarco, knowing the LIE and the World’s Fair would be starting construction in the near future. He wanted a piece of that action. He knew with Doc’s help there was a possibility of getting part of both of those projects. While getting them was great news, it was another roadblock preventing him from leaving Queens and heading out west. He knew he had to visit his movie production company, and he was also anxious to investigate properties in Vegas. Oh well, he thought. You can’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
There was a knock on the door and everyone stopped what they were doing.
“Sorry, Boss,” Piss Clam said. “Abe Grossman is here and he’d like to speak with you.”
“I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed, that we were in the middle of something important,” Red said, a little frustrated.
“Yeah I know you told me, Boss, but Abe said it’d take only a minute of your time. He said he had something you could use.”
Red threw his pencil on top of the blueprints on the desk and sighed. “Okay, let’s get this over with. Bring him in.”
Grossman was a thin, wiry man about average height, late forties or early fifties, with a sunburnt face. A byproduct of working in the sun all day. Red leaned back in his chair as Piss Clam led Grossman in.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Grossman?” Red said as he shook Grossman’s hand. “Mr. Fortunato, I’m the owner of a fairly large landscaping company and I read in the Daily Mirror that you were awarded the contr
act for the LIE. I came here to tell you that I’d like to do the landscaping for you. My prices are reasonable and my work is exceptional. I have endorsements from satisfied customers who will attest to my work. Doing the landscaping for you would be an opportunity for me, and you’d get my services at a far lower price than you could get from any other landscapers. How about it, Mr. Fortunato, can we do business?”
Red looked at the man for a long moment then shook his head. “Sorry, Mr. Grossman, but I have a landscaper who I plan on using for this job. But thanks for coming here and offering your services to me.”
Grossman nodded in understanding. He didn’t look disappointed, which was surprising, because that’s how most people would have reacted. Red was a very good judge of people but this guy stymied him. He shook his head as he watched Grossman leave then turned his attention back to the blueprints. “Okay, now where were we?”
The following morning at 9 a.m. Piss Clam knocked on Red’s door.
“What is it now, Piss Clam?”
“Abe Grossman is here again, Boss. He wants to see you. Says it’s very important. He says he’ll take two minutes of your time and then leave.”
Red frowned and said testily, “Damn it. What the hell could he want now? All right, show him in.”
Grossman walked in. Red studied his face. He couldn’t be sure but he could have sworn Grossman had a shadow of a smile on his face. Grossman nodded and acknowledged everyone.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Grossman?” Red asked.
Grossman didn’t say anything. He just leaned over and handed Red an envelope. Red looked quizzically at the envelope and then at Grossman.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Grossman’s smile grew wider. “That’s a signed stock certificate showing that you own 25 percent of my landscaping company.”
Red opened the envelope and read the stock certificate.
“Well now,” Red said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “When can you start?”
