by Joe Corso
“He seems like a helluva guy. He don’t deserve what those rats are doin’ to him and his family,” Tarzan replied.
“Yeah, I agree.” Trenchie chimed in. But Trenchie being the eternal pragmatist asked, “After we help ‘em out, what’s in it for us?” Red thought a moment.
“I made up my mind a long time ago,” Red began, “that one way or another, I’m goin’ into the movie business. Maybe by takin’ care of their problem, a door will open and that just might be the door I’ve been waitin’ for.” The men were about to leave the table when Moose came over.
“Boss, you know what I just heard? Bam Bam and Peanuts were in the city last night having dinner at Cine 9 – that posh new eatery everybody’s talking about in Manhattan – and because they’re part of us, our family, they were given a pass on the meals.”
Big Red was not happy. His nostrils flared and his face turned cherry red. Red always had this way of his nostrils flaring open like a clean shot highway when he got mad and he was mad now. “Who told you this?”
“One of the waiters from the neighborhood. He lives in Corona Heights and stops in for a drink once in a while before headin’ for work.” Everyone in Red’s mob knew how he felt about taking advantage of someone because of who they were. Red, as did Yip his uncle who was the boss before he was killed, always made it a point to never to take a free meal from anyone. If a waiter brought over the check and told them there was no charge for the meal, they would each say the same thing – ‘Look, when I come in here, I’m just another customer looking to enjoy a good meal. I always pay.’ Then each man was to generously over tip the waiter. Everyone respected Red and Yip because they didn’t take advantage of their power. That’s what really pissed Red off about these two knuckleheads. “Get word to ‘em. Tell ‘em I wanna see ‘em right away. I don’t care what they’re doin’ or where they are. Tell ‘em to get over here right away. Capiche?”
It wasn’t long before the two men were standin’ before Red receiving’ a tongue lashing while Trenchie and Tarzan looked on. Red looked at Bam Bam and said. “Do I treat you guys good?”
“Yeah boss. Why?”
“Do you make enough money with me?” The two men looked at each other not knowing where this conversation was going.
“Yeah boss, you treat us real good.”
“So if I’m treatin’ you good and you’re makin’ a lot of money tell me, why the hell is it you can’t pay for a meal? You have to get it on the arm.” The two men looked at each other sheepishly.
“What meal are you talking about Red?” one man asked as he quizzically looked at the other.
“You know God damned well what meal I’m talking about! You two morons went to dinner at Cine 9 and walked out without payin’. Everyone in that place works hard for their money and because you work for me, you think you have the right to walk in a joint, eat a meal, and walk out without payin’ for it, knowin’ that you represent me and especially knowin’ that I always pay for my own meals wherever I go? Now if I can pay for my own meals, it stands to reason that you should pay for yours, am I right? Or am I missin’ somethin’ here?” Red always paid his own way. That was one of the reasons people respected him so much. The other being that he was so approachable – he’d listen to anybody with a problem. Every one of his men knew his policy . . . you pay your way. That was a slogan of his ‘You Pay Your Way.’ Other crime family members liked to usurp their power by taking advantage of their positions in life. They liked the power that intimidation gave them. They loved entering a place and wining and dining, watching people buzz around like bees, falling all over themselves, and hearing that it was ‘all on the house,’ but not Red. No, not Red.
“I want you to guys to go back to Cine 9 and have dinner again. I want you to order one of everything on the menu – everything. Only this time you pay for your meal and you will leave a very generous tip for the waiter. You will also find the waiter who served you before and you will leave him a generous gift, too. Do you understand?”
“Yes boss,” the men hastily answered.
“Good. Let me know when you’re plannin’ your next outing there and don’t let me hear of you pullin’ this shit again – makes me look bad. Now get out of here.” After the two men had exited, Red turned to his two men.
“I never want to be like that cheap bastard Profaci who doesn’t share a thing with his men. I want my guys to make money. Hell, there’s enough dough comin’ in for everyone to live well. I pay my men good – no shakin’ down some poor chump who works minimum wage and scrapes and scrimps just to put enough money away to feed his family. Not happenin’ on my watch.”
chapter eleven
The Starlight Club was always crowded on Saturday nights. It was an honor for anyone to receive a personal invitation from Big Red for something on any night, but especially a Saturday night – a special invitation meant a special event. Red always did it up right – the finest money could buy. That reminds me. Let me tell you the story of his meats.
One day Bobby, who at the time worked for Four States Meat and Poultry Supply, visited The Starlight Club an account he always wanted, and pleaded with Red to give his meats a try. Bobby was a guy who had a wife and kids to feed. He worked hard and new meat orders was a big deal to his pocket. He wanted to prove to Red what quality meat should taste like. Bobby challenged Red to a blind steak test – use the same seasonings on two steaks, one from the supplier that Red currently used and one from Bobby’s ‘prime cuts’, and cook them exactly the same way to the same temperature. The chef, the staff, and Red would all judge the steaks. If Bobby’s steak won, then Red would be a new steady customer. Red liked the kid and appreciated anyone who would go out on a limb like that. That was the sort of confidence that he respected in somebody. He relented. Steak tasting day came and sure enough, Bobby’s steak won hands down. Red had unknowingly been buying meat that was substandard and was really not thrilled that his chef had not brought this to his attention. From that day on, he gave Bobby all of his orders – both meat and poultry and became Bobby’s biggest account. That one client provided Bobby with a comfortable living but Bobby didn’t take Red for granted. He personally selected the best ribs and hinds of beef he could find. Many a time his hands froze over as he picked through barrels of beef liver until he found the few that were the right size and the right color. He would sort through hundreds of prime ribs and shell strips of beef. With Bobby’s efforts, The Starlight Club soon acquired the reputation of being one of the top restaurants in New York City.
Karen and Marco were seated at the table with Trenchie, and a very pregnant Mary, when the grand ballroom doors opened and in walked Red escorting the Morgenstein family. The Morgensteins were struck by the beauty of the room, each commenting on its exquisite beauty. Red led the family to a ten top in the back, joining the already seated guests. Lydia Morgenstein was seated next to Karen. The two ladies chatted amiably as Mary strained to hear. Mary, defying the assigned seat protocol, asked Trenchie to switch seats with her so she could join the girls’ conversation. Before long, the three women were chatting away like old friends. But June, who was sitting next to her father, had no interest in talking. Her eyes were fixated on the doors of the ballroom, hoping Swifty would walk in at any moment. Her heart fluttered when she finally saw the three boxers saunter into the ballroom. There he was – Swifty and friends. It was hard to hide June’s glow. Swifty was different, she said later to everybody. Seemed she had always dated guys from prestigious colleges, the preppy type, but Swifty was a bit scrappy and she liked that. She had always thought that prizefighters were just ignorant ole ogres with cauliflower ears and broken noses. Swifty was different. He had no marks on him, and he, along with his friends, were all pretty nice looking in a rough sort of way. He had a small town boyish look and if you didn’t know he was a fighter, you would never have guessed it.
Swifty had no idea that June was coming to Red’s event. June approached his table quietly from behind, covered
his eyes with her hands, and said. “Guess who?”
“Ann Margaret,” he replied. “No I’m wrong, it’s Elizabeth Taylor.” She put a make believe frown on her face and said. “No silly. It’s someone faaaar more interesting. Take another guess.”
“Wait a minute. The voice is familiar. Could this be the gal that I met at the graduation ceremony?”
“Well, it could be but how many did you meet at the graduation?” she shot back.
“Well, let’s see – there was Lisa and Tina, oh, and that pretty blonde – Linda, yeah Linda.”
“Really?” she said. “And that’s it?”
“Yep, that’s it. There was another little girl but I cannot remember her name for the life of me.”
“Well,” she said as she smacked him on the head. “Does this help you remember?” and she smacked him again. Swifty broke into laughter. Gonzo and Henri just sat there smiling at the banter-taking place between the two of them.
“Got ya, didn’t I?” Swifty asked as he turned to her and smiled.
“Yes, you did,” June giggled. “Now how about a dance before they serve dinner?”
Swifty was full of confidence most everywhere, everywhere but the dance floor. He had never learned the finer points of becoming a good dancer and for someone who had to dance a lot inside a boxing ring, well, on the dance floor, he felt a bit inadequate, but in the spirit of the evening, he followed June right onto the dance floor. Good thing he did. He found himself dancing to the rhythm of a slow foxtrot. It was a great excuse to get to hold her. June moved her hands up and down his muscled arms pretending to be trying to find a comfortable position for her hands. She could feel the tightness of the muscles in his back as they danced – she knew that she had to see more of him. Just then Ralph and Gibby walked in and June asked Swifty who the two scary looking men were.
“They’re friends of Big Red’s.”
“Big Red? Is that the man my father came to see?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy. He’s also my manager.”
“Do you trust him?” she asked. Swifty stopped dancing, looked at her for a moment and in a serious tone stated, “I trust him with my life.” It was as though she had touched a nerve and a dark side had manifested itself. “So don’t go there,” he said, and then as quickly as his anger had reared its head, it left, and he placed his hand on her waist, pulled her close to him once again, and off they went . . . dancing. Swifty began to walk her to her table but she stopped him.
“I’d rather sit with you and your friends if you don’t mind.”
“Are you always so pushy?” he asked. June’s face fell. She didn’t know how to take that. Swifty saw that he had hurt her feelings. “Just kidding,” he added. “Come on. We have a few empty seats at our table.” She chose the empty seat right next to him. June gazed around the room once again taking in the beauty of the ballroom.
“How long have you known Red?” she asked.
“Red was in the money lendin’ business and whenever I needed money, I would borrow from him. He never bothered me about the money even long after it was due. But if I wanted to fight, I had to fight for him and no one else. My life was goin’ nowhere and I only fought to pay Red the money I owed him. Then I’d borrow some more and blow that on good times and one day Red decided that I should have a life, so he bought my contract and became my manager. He’s investin’ some of my money so when I get older, I’ll have somethin’ to fall back on.”
“And you believe him?”
“There you go again. Of course I believe him. Red is one of the richest men I know. He has businesses and he inherited millions from his uncle. Do you think he needs to steal the few dollars he’s investin’ for me?” he answered clearly annoyed. He didn’t like where this conversation was going and he wasn’t used to a woman questioning him about his personal business. “Now drop it. I don’t wanna talk about him anymore and you need to learn not to stick your nose in people’s personal affairs, especially mine. Understand?” June blanched. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like this, especially by a man. It was just another reason that Swifty was different. But June knew that she had made a mistake by talking to him like she did and she needed to think fast to salvage the situation. She put her hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that I never met a guy like you before so please forgive me if I ask too many questions.” That seemed to mollify him. Swifty relaxed.
“It’s alright,” he said. He glanced at her then felt kind of bad for coming down on her so hard. “You know . . . me and the boys are fightin’ at Sunnyside Gardens next month. Why don’t you come and see us? If you tell me you’ll come, I’ll have tickets waitin’ at the box office, that is … if you wanna come.” Her face brightened.
“I’d love to come. Could I bring my two girlfriends? Would that be all right? I mean I don’t want you to think I’m being pushy.” Swifty laughed. June loved hearing him laugh.
“That’d be great. Bring two of your pretty girl friends for my two buddies.”
“Deal,” June responded.
Henri was a striking Latino man with jet black hair and a set of pearly white teeth that you could see a mile away. He was a catch for any girl. Gonzo was another story. He was six feet four, well built, with dark hair, cut military style short, but he was the only one of the three that had noticeable scars. His nose had been broken a few times and his face had been cut with a knife when he was nineteen years old. However, his rugged looks, devil–may–care personality, and happy–go–lucky disposition was appealing to women.
Morgenstein complimented Red on the food and then remarked, “This place is beautiful, so different. What a wonderful surprise. And thank you – I’m glad my wife and kids are enjoying themselves after what happened. While I have the opportunity, I’d like to ask you something.”
“What is it?” Red asked.
“I was so grateful for Swifty and Gonzo helping me that I wanted to do something for them, but they wouldn’t accept anything from me.”
“Yeah that’s the way those boys are,” Red said proudly.
“Well, I thought of something else. That young man – Henri Valesques, You manage him right?”
“Yes I do. He’s Swifty’s friend. The three of ‘em just returned from spendin’ two years in the Far East and now that they’re back, they asked me to manage ‘em.”
“My point is,” Morgenstein continued. “I know that the young man had to fight in order to earn money to send to his brother to the Hackley School and now he’s going to continue fighting in order to earn more money to send him to college. Am I right?”
“Yes you are.”
“Well, my point is – I want to pay for his brother Jorge to go to the college of his choice.” Red looked at Morgenstein with a completely surprised look.
“You’d do that for the boy?”
“Yes I would and since I’m a lawyer, I can set up an educational trust fund for him.”
“Well let’s get him over here right now and you can give him the good news.” Red motioned for Moose to come to the table. “Get Henri and ask him to come here.”
“Sure boss.” Morgenstein noticed the respect Moose gave Red and how his words were never questioned. They were just obeyed without question. This was a simple request but Morgenstein had the feeling that no matter what the request from Red, Moose would oblige. A few minutes later Henri came to the table.
“Did you want to see me Red?”
“Yes. Mr. Morgenstein here has something to tell you. Henri looked at Morgenstein questioningly.
“Red told me that you fought to earn money to put your brother through school. He said that you intend to use the money you earn fighting to pay for your brother’s college tuition, am I correct?”
“Yes. That’s true. I want my little brother to get a good education, have a decent chance in life.”
“I want to cover your brother’s college expenses,” Morgenstein said matter–of–factly. “T
ell him to choose any college and I’ll pay for it. I’ll just have to ask you a few questions in order to set up a trust fund for him. Is that agreeable to you?” Henri was speechless. He tried not to tear up and he fought hard against it, but the tear won and the big ole strapping military tough guy fighter managed to let a lonely teardrop stream down the right side of his face. This was the question that had been nagging him since his brother’s graduation. Where the hell would he get the money to send Jorge to college? Even if he had fought every day, he knew that he couldn’t make that much money. Now this man was sitting in front of him, a man he had just met and hardly knew, and was offering to pay for his brother’s education. Henri struggled for words.
“But why? I mean, I will be eternally in your debt and don’t worry I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. All I have to give you right now is my word but it’s as good as gold.”
“I don’t want your money Henri. I’m a financially blessed man. I want to do this in return for what your friends did for me.” Henri was so taken by this turn of events that his eyes now filled completely with water. Henri sat patiently and answered Morgenstein’s many questions necessary for the legal documentation.
This all seemed like a dream until Henri heard, “Okay, I have everything I need. The only thing you have to do is let me know what college your brother wants to attend. His tuition will be paid in full for four years. He’ll have a credit card for his books, clothes, rent, computers, food, and whatever else he needs. I’ll be doing a lot of business with Red so if you have any questions, pass them to him and he’ll see to it that I get them.” Henri walked back to his table in a daze. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had simply agreed to accompany Swifty to The Starlight Club and meet Big Red – all this from just saying yes to a friend. Maybe Swifty was right. Maybe there was something magical about The Starlight Club. Whatever it was, he liked it. God bless Morgenstein, he thought.
