The Starlight Club 2: The Contenders: Goodfellas, Mob Guys & Hitmen (Starlight Club Mystery Mob)

by Joe Corso

  “Well that’s interesting, but what’s your real name?” June pursued.

  “That, my dear June, I will not tell you,” Swifty said as he lowered his chin a bit and looked up at her. “You can call me ‘Swifty’ or ‘Hey You’ but my real name is private, okay?” It was love right there, at that moment. He was physically strong, assertive – just the right amount of confidence that makes women swoon. June was smitten.

  At that moment, Swifty felt a tap on his shoulder. It was June’s father.

  “Can I have a word with you Swifty?”

  “Sure.” And the two of them walked out to the veranda to join the other two fighters, leaving June to ponder the many questions that she hadn’t gotten around to ask him yet.

  Outside at a table, Mr. Morgenstein instructed all the boys to have a seat.

  “I’m indebted to you boys,” he began. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did. I’d like to give you something, a little reward, to show my gratitude for helping me out.”

  “We’re not looking for any reward Mr. Morgenstein,” Swifty stated. “We helped you because you were in trouble. It’s not necessary, but I do have a question. It’s none of my business, Mr. Morgenstein, but what did those guys want from you?”

  Morgenstein took a deep breath, let it out slowly and said, “They want my studio. They want to steal Columbia Pictures from us and they’re putting a lot of pressure on me. Besides being Vice–President of Columbia Pictures, I’m also their Chief Legal Counsel. I think they intended to intimidate me just to show their muscle. Who knows? They might have really harmed me but I think that this time was more about the message – letting me know that they’re stalking me, know my whereabouts.”

  “Where are they from?” Swifty asked.

  “They’re out of Detroit but some of them are staying in California.”

  “California?” Swifty asked.

  “Yes. Hollywood to be exact.”

  “Can I use your phone?” Swifty asked.

  “Sure, it’s to your right as you walk into the room.” Swifty exited and returned a few minutes later. “Mr. Morgenstein, when you mentioned Columbia Pictures was being threatened with a take–over, something sounded familiar. I remembered hearing something about that so I called someone, my manager, and told him the short version of what happened today. He said he’d like to see you tomorrow.”

  “Who’s your boss Swifty?” Morgenstein asked.

  “Did you ever hear of The Starlight Club?” Swifty replied.

  chapter nine

  Moose parked his car in front of the Ridgewood Sporting Bar and Grill. He walked over to Charlie tending bar and asked if he’d seen Shooter.

  “Yeah, he was here a moment ago. Hey Sammy did you see where Shooter went?” Charlie called out.

  “He went to the head.” Just then the door to the bathroom and Shooter walked out adjusting his jacket. Moose waved to get his attention and motioned for him to come over. Shooter ambled over.

  “What’s up Moose?”

  “Big Red wants to see you right now. He said for you to drop everything and come with me.”

  “Where to?”

  “The Starlight Club. We’re leavin’ right now.”

  “Okay partner. Let’s vamoose. Sounds serious.”

  Moose took his time driving, staying within the speed limit and Shooter was getting antsy. “Come on Moose, step on it. If he wants us there right away, it must be important. Step on the gas.” Moose shook his head.

  “I can’t go any faster Shooter.”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “Red lights, that’s why not.” Shooter leaned out the window and fired two shots knocking out the light in the center of the road and the one by the curb.

  “Well now, there’s no lights here to worry about. You just keep driving and I’ll make sure the lights don’t slow you up.” Moose shook his head and just looked at him.

  “You know . . . you are one crazy sonnuva bitch shootin’ out red lights like that. You’re gonna get us both arrested. Then what? I’ll tell you what. We’ll never get you to Red’s, that’s what.” Shooter smiled and leaned back in his seat.

  “You worry too much Moose. That’s what’s wrong with you.” The truth was that Moose rarely worried about anything.

  Moose pulled his car into the parking lot across from The Starlight Club and the two men entered the bar. Moose was about to ask Tarzan, who was behind the bar where Red was, but he spotted him in the corner by the window sitting at his favorite table, reading the paper. When Red eyed them, he put his paper aside and motioned for the men to come over and take a seat. Shooter, who stood about five nine, was thin and wiry. He had a hawk–like face that rarely showed emotion. He wasn’t a bad looking man but you wouldn’t consider him handsome. There was a rough attractiveness to him and a devil–may–care attitude but his primary strong suit was his fierce loyalty . . . to Red. He was as dependable as they came.

  “What’s up Red? Must be pretty important for you to send Moose to get me when a phone call would have done the trick.” Red smiled. He was pleased with how quickly Shooter could size up a situation.

  “Yeah, it is important. We have some hustlers lookin’ to move in on our action. They tried takin’ over Trenchie’s place which I don’t think was a coincidence. They had to know who owned the joint. When we confronted ‘em, they said they wouldn’t pull that shit again in Queens, but I don’t believe it. I think somethin’s going on that I don’t know about, so I want you to tail those guys. I want to know where they go and what they do. While I was waitin’for you two to get here, I got a call from Jake over at the Zebra club and he said two guys walked in to his place and they began askin’ a lot of questions. When I asked what sort of questions, he said they wanted to know if this was one of Big Red’s joints. While the two of ‘em were havin’ a drink, Jake who was tendin’ bar, overheard them say they had to call Detroit, then they’d be back tomorrow. I want you to hang around the Zebra club and when those guys come back, Zeke will tip you off . When Zeke does that, gimme a call right away. I’m sending Piss Clam to back you up.”

  Shooter opened his jacket and patted his gun. “This is the only backup I’ll need if they’re gonna try any rough stuff.” Red’s face reddened. He didn’t like being interrupted when he gave an order.

  “Look.” he said. “Just do what I tell you to do alright! You call me if they show up and let me do the thinkin’ around here. Understand?”

  “Yeah boss. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Shooter answered, realizing that he had crossed a line with Red. “I just wanted you to know that as long as I have this,” and he patted his jacket where his gun was, “I could handle anything that happens, but don’t worry, I’ll call you before I do anything.”

  “Good,” Red said. “Crazy shit is happenin’ pretty fast around here and it all seems to be related. I just haven’t figured it all out yet.” Red reached into his pocket and took out his car keys and handed them to Shooter. “Take my convertible– the blue caddy in the lot across the street. Tell Jake why you’re there so he won’t wonder and worry.” Shooter smiled and threw the car keys a few inches in the air and like a juggler he caught them in the palm of his hand.

  “Don’t worry boss. I’ll take care of everything.” Red didn’t tell Shooter about the secrets the car hid. He didn’t know that the car was armor plated and had bulletproof glass. Red had the satisfaction of knowing this car would protect not only him but anyone in it. As soon as Shooter had left, Red yelled for Moose to come into his office.

  “What’s up boss?”

  “Get on the phone and call Piss Clam. Tell him Shooter is at the Zebra Club and to get his ass over there pronto. Let him know he’s Shooter’s

  back–up and wherever Shooter goes, he goes. Got it?”

  “Got it boss.”

  As Moose turned to leave Red added, “And one more thing. Tell Piss Clam to go there heeled. And tell him to not hesitate to use it if he ha
s to.”

  chapter ten

  The following morning around ten am, John A. Morgenstein walked into The Starlight Club. The club didn’t open until noon so Red typically reserved mornings to discuss family business. Morgenstein waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light and then he spotted a man he assumed was Red rising from a table by the window. He walked toward him. “Hi,” Red greeted. “You must be Mr. Morgenstein?”

  “That’s right. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

  “I’m Red, Red Fortunato. I own the place. Please . . . have a seat. It’s private. I can assure you that no one will hear us unless they’re invited. Red instructed Moose to bring the usual guest gifts – two cups of espresso and a bottle of Sambuca. Red wasted no time. He turned to Morgenstein and said, “Swifty told me what happened yesterday. I’m glad he was there to help out. But before we begin, do you mind if I have my two associates sit in? I’d like for them to hear what you have to say.” Morgenstein nodded in approval. Red lifted a phone from his table, buzzed the intercom, and asked Trenchie and Tarzan to join him.

  “John, this is Trenchie.” Trenchie nodded and shook his hand. “And this here’s Tarzan.” Tarzan smiled and shook also. Morgenstein tensed up a bit. These two men seemed a bit rough around the edges and hard. He looked at the door and thought that maybe meeting Red was a mistake. He had a momentary urge to politely excuse himself. Red, sensing his uneasiness smiled and got right to it.

  “Why don’t you tell us why those men are harassin’ you?” he stated rather than asked. Morgenstein was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out if any of this was a good idea. There were three men sitting at the table with him, just waiting for him to speak. It was a bit intimidating. Red couldn’t blame him. He knew how to read people so he took a different approach. “Look, John, I’ll ask a few questions and if you feel that the question is too personal, then just don’t answer it. But I think I should tell you a few things before we get started. Ya see, a few days ago Larry Bernstein contacted me. He told me a little about what’s going on. Did you know that?” Morgenstein’s face and eyes changed instantly from fear to both shock and fear. Red studied Morgenstein’s face. “No? I didn’t think so. A few years ago I sent one of my men, Jimmy the Hat to Larry and he made it big in Hollywood under the name of James Roman? Maybe you heard of him.”

  “Of course. Everyone’s heard of James Roman,” Morgenstein answered. Red continued.

  “Did you know that Jimmy saved the studio from a major scandal when he got hold of some damaging film of Lana Thomas at a party when she was a kid? She did some, let’s say, inappropriate things, things that might hurt the studio and her reputation and those things were captured on film. Lana was being blackmailed. Larry destroyed the film and he thought that was the end of it. Did you know that Larry had a problem with the union and it got so bad that one of his leadin’ men was about to be killed in an ‘accident’? I took care of things like this Mr. Morgenstein – took care of Larry. So, when he called me the other day, I snooped around a bit and found out that some pretty powerful wise guys are plannin’ to take over Columbia Pictures by getting rid of you and Larry. Now, how they do it is another story – either by intimidation or by knockin’ you off. The word I got was that it doesn’t matter to them, which it is as long as the goal of gaining control of the company is achieved. Well, I know who’s behind the planned coup. Now, knowin’ what I just told you, will you now answer my questions? If you don’t, then we’ll shake hands, call it a day, and part as acquaintances.” Morgenstein could tell by the way he talked that Red was a man used to getting his way and used to getting results, but other than that, he didn’t know anything about him.

  “Okay, what is it you want to know?” Morgenstein offered. Red smiled.

  “Tell me the first time you were approached by these people.”

  “A month ago. I began receiving some disturbing letters similar to the ones Larry received. No return address and the stamp on the envelope was never stamped from the same location. Most of the letters were stamped from out of state. I was pretty concerned over the threats so I hired a bodyguard. He was with me for three straight days, but on the fourth day, he didn’t show up for work. When I finally reached him, he told me that he resigned, that he didn’t want to work for me any longer and asked me to find someone else. He wouldn’t state a reason.”

  “Was there anything besides the letters?” Red asked.

  “Yes, I was confronted by two men, in front of my home, when I got out of my car one evening and I was told that if I didn’t give them what they wanted, that the next time we met, there would be casualties. I never, ever, thought they would come to my daughter’s school during her graduation, much less be so brazen as to threaten me in front of my family . . . but they did. And if it wasn’t for Swifty, who knows what they would have done to my family or me?” Red shook his head.

  “I hate hearing things like this. A man’s family should be kept out of business no matter what kind of business it is. Did they ask you for money?”

  “No, not directly but they did by innuendo. They told me they wanted to retain me as the company’s Chief Counsel and I was instructed to convince Larry to turn over control of the company to them and when he did, they promised that would be the end of it – nobody would get hurt.”

  “Well, now,” Red said to both Trenchie and Tarzan, “does this sound a little familiar? Sounds a lot like what happened to our stock broker friends.”

  “When do you intend to return to California?” Red asked.

  “I’m leaving Monday morning,” Morgenstein answered.

  “Okay,” Red continued. “All five of us are goin’ with you to California. And from now on, Shooter and Piss Clam will be your body guards. We’ll work out the logistics of your family. Don’t worry, they’ll be watched twenty–four seven. Just know that the guys I’m assigning are the best, so put your mind at ease and let us handle this from now on. Now seein’ as how you’re here through the week–end, you and your family will join us here on Saturday. We’re havin’ a party for Trenchie here. He’s gonna be a father.” Trenchie’s face turned crimson. He didn’t like talking about his personal affairs.

  “C’mon Red. Don’t go there,” Trenchie said as he shook his head.

  Red smiled and said to Morgenstein, “Trenchie and I go way back, all the way back to childhood. We grew up together. He’s like a brother to me. Couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

  Red quickly returned to the subject of Saturday night’s party. “Try to come. You seem like a man who appreciates some of the finer things in life. Our food here is the best you’ll find anywhere around these parts. I’m sure your wife and daughters will enjoy it. You’re all safe here.”

  “Sure. Okay. We’ll be here Saturday night,” Morgenstein answered reluctantly. He really was not enthused about any of this but asked, “What time?”

  “Dinner starts at six. I serve the best of foods,” Red continued to brag. It was one of the few times that Red really kept on about something. He was proud of the meticulous selection of ingredients that it took to turn out such extraordinary gastronomical delights. He was right. His food was the finest around.

  “My beef is all prime meat,” Red continued. “My vegetables are straight off the farm, well pretty close,” he chuckled, “and the fish here, well, it still has the hook in its mouth.” Morgenstein and the other men all laughed a little. It was the first time John had loosened up a bit. “I promise you that you and the family will have a good time. Don’t worry about the men who gave you trouble today. They won’t bother you again while you’re here in New York. They might try somethin’ in California, but you’ll be protected. Do you have room to put the five of us up at your home?”

  “Well . . . I . . . I . . . I mean . . . sure,” Morgenstein stammered. He was clearly caught off guard by this question. Up until now, he thought the guys would just be hangin’ around outside the house. Come to think of it, logic dictated that the
y had to stay somewhere and right at the house seemed even more comforting.

  “Five of us will be with you for a day or two,” Red continued, “but when we leave, Shooter and Piss Clam will be with you at all times.” Morgenstein nodded his head.

  “We live in a decent sized house,” Morgenstein added hastily. The idea was really growing on him. “There’ll be no problem finding you fellas a place to sleep. As a matter of fact, I would feel a lot better with you staying in the house with us.”

  “I can only think of one big problem you could have with those guys,” Red smirked. That got Morgenstein’s attention.

  “And what would that be?” he asked with a worried look on his face.

  “Those two eat like horses. They’re liable to bankrupt you with their appetites.”

  “You had me worried there for a moment,” Morgenstein responded as he let out a sigh and laughed a little. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll gladly cover their eating expenses. My wife likes to cook and so do I and there are plenty of take–out places in the area.”

  About an hour of discussing and planning followed. The men worked out details of the house, studied the roads in the area, and got a handle on the Morgenstein daily family schedule. Morgenstein looked at his watch and said, “I better be on my way. I promised my wife I’d be back by two and with all that’s been going on, I don’t want to worry her. I want to thank you. I don’t know how to thank you actually, but I’ll see you on Saturday night and we’ll talk more.”

  “Good,” Red said as he gently patted the table with his hand. “I look forward to seein’ you and your family. Swifty tells me you have a lovely wife and two beautiful daughters. A word of caution – keep your eyes on Swifty. He’s young, just returned from the army, and he’s liable to steal one of ‘em away.”

  Morgenstein laughed and said, “Don’t worry – when it comes to my daughters, I have eyes all over my body.” Morgenstein said his goodbyes to Trenchie and Tarzan and just as he was about to leave, he walked over to Red and thanked him once again for his help. Red waited a few moments for him to leave and then asked, “Whadda you think?” He always solicited input from his men. This was no different.