by Joe Corso
“Geez, Red, that’ll bring in a serious hunk of change.”
“Yeah, I know, but it pisses me off that Lansky resents me buying an interest in two Vegas casinos. Ever since he was forced to leave Cuba he feels that Vegas belongs to him.”
“I’m askin’ you again, what are you gonna do about this?”
“I’m sending Bull out there with ten men. He’s single, and I want only single soldiers to go out there. They’ll have to live there for a while, maybe permanently.”
Trenchie nodded and took a pull on his cigar. “Bull, eh. Well, he’s a good man, but is he up to this? I mean, can he handle the business end of the casinos while still keeping an eye on the competition? And by that I mean Lansky.”
Red furrowed his eyebrows. “I had a long talk with Bull and explained what I want from him and what to watch out for. I want him to find out who Lansky has gunning for us, and then he’s got to play it by ear. I don’t want to be the first to start a war out there, but at the same time I don’t want my men put in a position where they could get killed. That’s why I’m sending Bull out with ten of our guys. I’m going to call for a sit-down with the commission and see if I can nip this war in the bud.”
“What about the Boston crowd?”
“I’ll bring that up with the commission also. If I have to I’ll ask for a sit-down with Patriarca and maybe we can come to an agreement.”
Trenchie nodded. “Patriarca is a tough bird. He’s from the old school. But he’s intelligent and he might listen to reason after hearing you’re not leaving Queens.”
Red sighed. “Look, Trench, I need you to go out to Las Vegas and meet with Bull after he gets settled in. He’s gonna be busy setting up the new casinos so I want you to handle Lansky’s men. And after what you just been through, I’ll understand if you tell me to give it to someone else.”
Trenchie brushed ash off his jacket, then pointed his cigar at Red. “Look, Red, I told Yip when I first got out of the joint that you guys were going to need me, and I was right. If someone put a contract out on me then I want to be the one who makes sure it doesn’t happen, and I can only do it if I’m out there to take care of the problem myself. Let me know when the guys are settled in and I’ll fly out to take care of Lansky’s men.”
“I called this meeting to go over a few things with you guys. Bull chose you guys because you’re all single. I didn’t want to uproot entire families and have them relocate to Las Vegas, so you guys were elected. I want a show of hands. How many of you volunteered for this job?” All the men raised their hands. “Good. All of you will be getting raises, because this job is important to our family. Once the casinos we’ve invested money in have been reconstructed, they’ll become profitable very quickly. I need you men to do your jobs, and don’t take the job for granted. Lansky has put out contracts on some of us, and maybe on you fellas too when he finds out you’re representing our family in Vegas. Listen to Bull. He’ll tell you exactly what your duties will be. It won’t be hard work but it could be dangerous if you aren’t paying attention. Some of you will be working the floor in one of the casinos, others in the counting room, and still others will be floating around pretending you’re customers. Only you’ll be watching for hired button men looking to kill you guys. Bull will explain everything after you’re settled in. Remember, he’s me, so you listen to him. And here’s something to think about while you’re in Vegas. The two things I won’t tolerate are thieves and disloyalty to me or this family. I’m an easy guy to get along with except for those two things. Well, add to that drugs and prostitution. If I hear of any of you skimming the take or being disloyal or selling the white stuff, I’ll kill you myself. Any questions?”
Armando raised his hand.
“Yes, Armando?”
“When are we leaving?”
“You have this week to put your affairs in order, because you’ll be on Sunday’s eight o’clock American Airlines flight out of Idlewild. Everything is arranged for you. You’ll be staying in the larger of our two casinos and Bull will give you American Express business cards for any expenses you may have. Don’t be afraid to use the card. It’s a business deduction. The bills will go to Bull, and if he sees you’re using it fairly he won’t be bothering you; but if he sees you used it to buy a car, then you can expect a knock on your door, and it won’t be the Fuller Brush Man knocking.” Everyone laughed, but they got his meaning. “Use the card judiciously and don’t abuse it, and everything will be fine. That’s all for now, boys. Good luck in Vegas. Bull, I want to see you in my office.”
Bull sat down in front of Red’s large desk. Red spoke first. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yeah, but if it’s all right with you, I’m gonna drive my caddy out to Vegas, so I’ll be leaving on Thursday, and I’ll be taking a few of the guys with me.”
Red shrugged his shoulders. “Makes no difference to me if you want to drive out there, but let me know who you’re taking with you so I can cancel their reservations.”
Bull took out his pen, grabbed a slip of paper from Red’s desk and wrote the names of the men who would be going with him. Bull was a good looking man, thirty-seven years of age. He had dark Italian hair and kept himself in excellent physical condition. He was in almost as good shape as Trenchie, but not quite. He wore his signature white scarf and captain’s hat, a holdover from his trucking days. He acquired the name Bull because of his fearless tenacity when confronting a threat from someone. The man was intelligent, fearless and tough. His knuckles were scarred from the many brawls he’d been in. His left eyebrow had a deep scar cutting through it, and the tissue above both eyes was prominent, like that of a prize fighter. He had been in many tough fights in his life. But his one admirable quality was his fierce loyalty to Big Red, and that’s why Red chose him for this job.
“Do you have any questions, Bull?”
“Just one.”
“Go ahead, let’s hear it.”
“If I’m put up against the wall and it’s either me or them, I’d like to use my own discretion in how I handle it.”
“You mean if someone is looking to whack you, is it all right for you to do him first? Is that what you mean?”
He smiled. “Yep, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Red leaned closer to the man. “You do whatever you have to do to stay alive, even if it means killing a few guys. We’ll worry about the consequences later.”
Red got up, turned the radio up louder and leaned closer to Bull. He whispered the next few sentences for fear that his words were being recorded. “We have a ton of dough socked away, and if we need to spread some of it around to get you out of trouble, then that’s what we’ll do. Just remember that I’m behind you one hundred percent, Bull, so if you need anything, or you need help, you call me and I’ll see that you get it. Understand? We have a lot of soldiers in our family, more than most of the other families, and if I have to I’ll send a hundred guys out to Vegas to watch your back.”
CHAPTER 29
Red took a drag on his cigar, leaned back in his chair and began to mull over his options. He needed to be proactive now because the tiger was out of the cage. Men would be coming for him soon and he’d have to be ready for them. Whose men would be coming for me? Genovese’s? Patriarca’s? Or could it be Lansky’s men? He smiled grimly and experienced a moment of doubt. Maybe I’ll have to fight all three of them. He straightened up and reminded himself who he was. Ain’t gonna happen.
He reached down and opened his desk drawer. He took out a small book with the addresses and phone numbers of the heads and members of the five New York crime families, laid it on his desk and opened it to a certain page. Every telephone number in this little book was written in code. Red wasn’t going to make it easy for anyone who by chance happened to get their hands on this important little book and tried to use it against him. He used a simple code. A number was added to the first digit and a number subtracted from the second digit and the process repeated itself until the nu
mber was dialed.
The soft, distinguished voice of the mediator answered. “Yes?” was all he said.
Red looked down the page for the proper name. “This is Ted Williams. We met a couple of years ago in California.”
“Yes I remember. What can I do for you, Ted?”
“Do you remember when we discussed my opening a movie studio?”
“Yes.”
“Well I decided to open a business in Las Vegas.”
The mediator interrupted him. “By business I assume you mean a casino.”
“Yes. I bought a small restaurant with some slots and two tables. I intend to build a motel and restaurant and convert the restaurant into a full scale gambling casino.”
“I see. And?”
“That’s not all. I also bought a half interest in a small casino in old Las Vegas.”
“I see. I assume there is still more that you haven’t mentioned yet. Am I correct?”
“Yes. Two men with large businesses and the same interests but from different areas of the country have entered into an agreement and intend to become my competitors.”
“I see,” said the calm, soothing voice. “Can we meet tomorrow, say in Manhattan? Somewhere that’s convenient for both of us. Please choose a place that you’re comfortable with.”
Red became pensive. He really didn’t want to leave Queens while people were looking to kill him. So he suggested something different. “Look, don’t take offense, but with my businesses at risk, I don’t feel comfortable traveling to Manhattan. Would you have any objection if we meet at my place?” Red believed that every phone call may be being monitored, so he was hesitant to give any more information than necessary. “I assume you know how to get here.”
“Yes, I know exactly where it is. I have it in my files,’ the mediator replied in his refined, mellow and very distinctive voice. “And I can see your point. I think your establishment would be a better place for us to have our discussion.”
Red felt better knowing the meeting would be held at the Starlight Club. “I think we’d be more comfortable here. We can have an early lunch or a good cup of coffee.”
“Yes, I agree. Is eleven o’clock tomorrow morning a good time for you?”
“Eleven is perfect,” Red said. “I’ll see you then.”
“Until tomorrow, Mr. Williams. Good day.”
At 11 a.m. precisely the front door to the Starlight Club opened and two men walked in. They were both slim and of average height, but one man stood a few inches taller than the other and both wore expensive suits. The taller of the two men told Tarzan seated at the entrance by the bar that he’d like to speak with Red. Tarzan motioned with his head to his right, and the mediator smiled as Red strode briskly toward him.
“Mr. Torelli, a pleasure to see you again.” Red turned to the second man. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name the last time we met, but in any case it’s nice to see you again.”
Torelli frowned. “Sorry about that, Red. This is my associate, Mr. Bernardi, Andrew Bernardi. Andrew is quite valuable to me. He takes notes of the proceedings among other things.”
Red let the “other things” remain unexplained for the moment. “Come with me. We’ll go into the ballroom where we can talk in private. Did you gentlemen have breakfast yet?”
Torelli liked the way Red handled himself. He wasn’t like the other gangsters. He could tell Red was intelligent and more refined than most of the men he dealt with.
Red pushed a button and the wall telescoped on tracks into a niche in the side wall on the right that made it practically invisible. Red stepped into the dark room and turned on the lights, and the room opened up in a mosaic of colors. Torelli and Bernardi stood there gaping at the majesty of the Starlight Club’s ballroom.
“I've read about this room and I’ve seen it in a movie, but I didn’t expect it to be this beautiful.”
Red led the two men to a table in a corner nook, away from any door or window that could allow someone to listen to their conversation. Red wasn’t taking any chances. He had learned from his security expert that law enforcement was using a new laser technology where they could bounce a laser beam off a window and listen to your conversation, so just to be safe he picked a secluded table in a nook nestled between two walls, artistically decorated with a hand painted romantic mural of Tuscan ruins with the setting sun behind. Red picked this particular table because the romantic, hand-painted walls were lined with lead, making it difficult if not impossible to monitor and record their conversation.
Just as they made themselves comfortable, Tarzan carried in a tray with espresso coffee, anisette, and biscottis.
“Sorry for the intrusion, but I thought you guys would like some coffee.”
Torelli smiled affably. “Thank you, Tarzan. A good cup of coffee is always appreciated.” Tarzan cracked a smile and left the room, wondering how the mediator knew his name.
Torelli poured some coffee into his cup then added some of the sweet anisette. He took a sip, savoring the flavor. “Ahh, this hits the spot.”
Bernardi took out a pad and pencil preparing to take notes.
“Now suppose you tell me why you asked me to attend this meeting, Mr. Fortunato? Please start at the beginning.”
When Bernardi reached over to take out the pad and pencil from his attache case Red noticed a bulge on his hip. His jacket slipped a little further to the side and Red noticed the handle of a gun. Then, just as quickly, the slightly built nerdy guy was once again just a guy ready to take notes of the meeting. Hmm, Red thought. This guy is a lot more than he lets on.
CHAPTER 30
Red spent the better part of an hour telling Torelli everything. “I’m being attacked on two fronts, Mr. Torelli. The Boston mob is looking to take over the action in Queens, figuring I’m moving my family out west. I’m almost sure they have the backing of one of New York’s five families, and I’m guessing that Vito Genovese is behind it. And because I’m investing in two casinos, Meyer Lansky has put a contract out on Trenchie, Tarzan and me.”
Torelli pursed his lips. “I’m a lawyer, Mr. Fortunato, and I only deal in facts and not supposition. These are serious charges you are bringing against two highly respected members of our fraternity.”
Red chuckled at Torelli’s use of the word “fraternity”. Red agreed. “I can prove that the Boston mob is making a move to take over some of my businesses. Recently two of my businesses were taken over by the Boston crowd. One of the guys in charge was a Charlie Tambasco, who I found to be very agreeable. He was just doing his job and when I introduced myself he understood and told me he didn’t want any trouble and he’d leave.”
The mediator looked at his assistant and got a nod from him, indicating he had recorded the name. “Go on, Mr. Fortunato, what else do you have on the Boston crowd?”
“One of my contacts came in here just to tell me they’ve set up shop over on Junction Boulevard and they’re bragging how they’re gonna take over Queens and have the blessings of the boss of one of New York’s crime families.”
Torelli straightened his tie and looked over at his assistant. “Did you get all of this, Andy?”
“Yes I did, Mr. Torelli.”
“Good, because now I’d like to visit those men and have a little talk with them.” Torelli’s eyes locked on Red’s. “Now this is something I am interested in, because this is not supposition. This appears to be solid facts. You must understand, Mr. Fortunato, there are certain guidelines I must follow. If I can come to a certain, satisfactory conclusion within those guidelines I have the right, and the authority I might add, to see that that happens. In other cases the problem must be relegated to those above me, but in matters like this I have been given the power to circumvent the need for the council themselves to become involved. Now, before we discuss Mr. Lansky, I suggest we pay a visit to the gentleman from Boston’s representatives.”
Tarzan drove, Bernardi sat in the passenger seat, while Big Red and Torelli sat in the back se
at. Piss Clam drove the car with Trenchie, Shooter, Joey Bones and Petey D following close behind. Tarzan found a parking spot in front of the Boulevard Movie Theatre while Piss Clam parked across Junction Boulevard, in front of East Coast Property Acquisitions. Piss Clam, Trenchie and the boys crossed the street to join Red and the mediator. Just then the door opened and a large, intimidating, well built man with black hair and a low Neanderthal hairline stepped out of ECPA. Trenchie, who stood three inches taller than him, stepped forward and prevented him from exiting. The man’s eyes widened when he noticed nine men gathering behind Trenchie.
“Hey, what is this?” the man blustered.
Trenchie tilted his head towards the door. “Inside,” was all he said.
Seeing he was outnumbered and there was nothing he could do, the man shrugged his shoulders. “Have it your way.” Then he turned, opened the door and reentered the small office.
The mediator, Red and his men followed close behind. A smaller version of the larger man sat behind the desk and stood when Red and his men walked in. Red knew with one glance that these men were strikebreakers, the muscle used to intimidate store owners into buying protection, or whatever it was that they were selling at the moment.
“Are you in charge here?” Red asked.
“Yes. And who are you?”
“I’m Big Red Fortunato and this is my town that you’re in, and it would be better for your health if you left Queens today.”
The man didn’t reply right away. He seemed to be at a loss for words. “Look, a man has a right to open a business wherever he wants, right?”
Red nodded in agreement. “Right, as long as it’s a legitimate business and it doesn’t interfere with my business.” The man was about to respond, but Red interrupted him. “I didn’t catch your name.”
