Jack of Diamonds

by Bryce Courtenay

  I shrugged, still not understanding. ‘So, what’s so special about this piano bar?’

  ‘Well, the GAWP Bar isn’t just any old piano bar, buddy; it’s why the El Marinero is the best sawdust casino in town and why we finally decided to build the Firebird.’

  I must have looked as confused as I felt.

  ‘It was Mrs Fuller started it, had the idea. Lemme explain. When the Family bought the El Marinero just after the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor we had ourselves a vision. America at war and military and air force bases planned for Nevada. It’s only natural we gonna attract airmen and soldiers from the bases and camps coming into Las Vegas for R&R. A brand-new population of single guys. So, what they gonna do when they come into town?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘They gonna go looking for some pussy, right?’

  I nod. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Wrong! Fucking Mormons. No girls, no whores in the entire state, according to them; no entertainment ’cept gambling, and the real gamblers among them are few and far between, and those who blow a few bucks on the slots are spread among all the Glitter Gulch casinos. We got nothing special goin’ for us. We just one outa lotsa sawdust casinos. Airmen, soldiers, they moving, comin’ and goin’ . . . there’s a word for it . . .’

  ‘Itinerant?’

  ‘Yeah. So, they don’t stick around for long. On top of that we paid too much for the El Marinero and we’d hired this fancy dame from the East Coast at great expense.’

  ‘Mrs Fuller?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s working at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York at that time, one of them assistant managers, and we’re hoping she’ll give us a touch of class. But the casino’s falling apart. We’re losing dough hand over fist. So, Bridgett goes to Chicago wid a business proposition. Tony Accardo, he the godfather, he ain’t accustomed to no dame comin’ up wid a plan, even a dame with nice manners and a fancy East Coast accent. She says to him, “Mr Accardo, forget the servicemen, go for the high rollers.” She says she’s made a list, while she’s at the Waldorf-Astoria.’ Lenny glanced at me. ‘Understand, this a lady who likes making lists. So, this list is of all the rich people who stayed in the Waldorf-Astoria when she was working there. She’s got their home addresses, every goddamned one. She says she wants to write, invite them to a complimentary holiday in Nevada, all expenses paid ’cept their airfares. Wives or girlfriends to come along and get a poolside tan in the middle of winter. She says, wid a war on, the rich can’t go no more to Europe – Monte Carlo, French Riviera, Paris – so they lookin’ for a holiday nearer to home. Some of the men she reckon got potential as high rollers if they got the opportunity here in America.’

  Lenny was away, his face lighting up as he told me the story of this Mrs Fuller. I began to wonder if he felt more for her than he was letting on.

  ‘But that’s not all. She says he gotta upgrade the El Marinero’s rooms – all with their own bathrooms, then put in a swimmin’ pool and restaurants, and a cocktail bar with a piano and different pianists from Hollywood every month!

  ‘Accardo don’t believe his fucking ears. In his whole goddamned life he never heard a plan so stoopid. Ferfucksakes, the US at war wid the Japs, this ain’t no time for complimentary holidays, luxury suites in a two-bit gambling town middle of the fuckin’ desert that suppose to attract the rich just in case some of them want to – perhaps, who the fuck knows? – gamble!

  ‘So, naturally he thinks this fancy dame gotta be off her fuckin’ rocker. So, he tells her to go screw herself, or words to that effect, and when her contract comes up in six months some other casino gonna have to employ her because it ain’t gonna be the El Marinero.’

  ‘So what happened?’ I asked, intrigued. I was becoming slightly concerned that Mrs Fuller, who was likely to be my boss, might be a bit unreliable.

  Lenny continued. ‘Well, she don’t sulk none, she ain’t that type. It so happens that Benjamin ‘Bugsy’ Siegel is visiting the El Cortez, where the New York syndicate got an investment. This is long before they decide to build the Flamingo. They, the El Cortez, they doin’ okay, they been in the biz a long time and they got a local client base and they also gettin’ their share of the servicemen as well. Compared to us they doin’ great. So, Mrs Fuller goes to see him. I guess she’s got nuttin’ to lose. She knows he’s a gangster and she thinks maybe his New York Mob could be interested in her ideas.’

  Lenny paused. ‘Now, what you gotta understand about Bugsy Siegel, he looks like a Hollywood movie star, and he loves women. His regular girlfriend is an actress, Virginia Hill. She likes to gamble, so that’s why they come to Las Vegas. But this time she ain’t wid him, an’ Bugsy Siegel ain’t exactly the faithful type. He takes one look and then it’s, “What can I do for you, Mrs Fuller?”’

  ‘Oh, so Mrs Fuller’s young and good looking?’ I asked, surprised.

  Lenny, impatient to continue, replied, ‘You better believe it, Jack, she’s a knockout. Then what happened I cain’t say wid my hand on the Bible, buddy, but she’s pretty smart and a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I mean, you don’t gotta be Albert Einstein. Anyhow, she’s got nothing to lose, has she?’ Lenny paused for a moment. ‘Okay, so she uses her natural advantage, and he, well, he’s gonna tell her it’s a great idea, ain’t he? That he definitely wants it for the El Cortez. Maybe he even promises he gonna phone Meyer Lansky.’ Lenny laughed uproariously. ‘In the meantime, will she be so kind as to remove her pants, lift her skirt, then bend over and touch her toes.’

  I laughed at the picture Lenny had painted. ‘It’s as good a guess as any. I wonder if she followed through?’

  ‘Frankly, buddy, I don’t think so. She’s too smart to go wid Bugsy Siegel, ’specially knowing Virginia Hill is his girlfriend. Virginia, she’s a tough broad. She’s also a bona fide member of the Mob. Virginia Hill is white trash from Alabama and Mrs Fuller is a classy lady from New York. It ain’t gonna happen wid a gangster like Bugsy Siegel.’

  ‘So, do you know what really happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Now, Mrs Fuller goes back and tells Accardo the Jews are definitely interested in the idea for the El Cortez and she wants to resign pronto. Accardo don’t know if it’s all bluff, but if her idea works wid the Jews, he’s gonna look like a fuckin’ idjit! So, he agrees to let Bridgett go ahead. Later he claims he’s got some spare cash he gotta use in a hurry because the IRS been sniffin’ round asking questions.’

  Lenny went on about the renovation of the casino, and my concentration lapsed as I gazed around me, until he mentioned a Mrs Anna-Lucia Hermes, the mayor’s wife.

  ‘So, will I be answering to Mrs Hermes, too?’ I said. It sounded as if I’d come to the wrong place if I wanted to avoid women controlling my life.

  ‘You ain’t listnin’, Jack. Bridgett – Mrs Fuller – discovers the mayor’s wife is an interior decorator. Worked in Hollywood, so she engages her to do the work.’

  I nodded, relieved that the number of females I’d have to answer to wasn’t increasing.

  ‘Like I said, Jack, Mrs Fuller ain’t stoopid and having city hall on side is very useful, especially when we do the inside of the Firebird. And there’s other stuff . . . it’s a connection we don’t wanna lose.’

  He looked uncomfortable, so I changed the subject. ‘You haven’t mentioned the GAWP Bar yet.’

  ‘Oh yeah, of course. Well, she uses her list and the rich start to come. First just a few husbands with their wives or rich guys with their girlfriends, and Bridgett’s right. Some – in fact, most – like to gamble. What you gotta unnerstan’ about the respectable rich and even the not so respectable, the men all know each other. Word gets around. Nothing the rich like better than a classy holiday in the sun, “wid compliments”.’

  Lenny paused. ‘But that ain’t the secret of Bridgett’s success. Most of the wives and girlfriends don’t gamble and they don’t know each other. Texas don’t know Alabama, don’t know New York State, don’t know Nebraska, don’t know Washington State, if you get w
hat I mean. That’s how come the GAWP Bar’s such a great idea. Every night the rich dames get together for cocktails and to listen to the piano player. But that ain’t the real attraction. The dames like to get to know each other, to gossip, exchange addresses, make friends, just like their menfolk. The GAWP Bar is like this exclusive club where the rich dames come to dish the dirt. Ain’t nothing like it in America ever. Mrs Fuller’s got the class to go wid it and she knows how to mix ’n’ fix. The dames love her – she’s one of them. They tell her everything. She keeps her lists and soon she knows more about the rich ’n’ famous than anybody in America. But she’s discreet, they know she won’t blab – see no evil, hear no evil and keep your trap shut, that’s her.

  ‘Every year she invites them back to the El Marinero. Not the husbands – the wives and girlfriends.’ Lenny paused and raised his eyebrows. ‘Ain’t no guy gonna gamble at any other casino in Las Vegas. His wife, girlfriend, she ain’t gonna let him go no place else now she’s a faithful member of the GAWP Bar. Bridgett runs the best club, the classiest venue in town. Soon it ain’t just winter, the El Marinero is full most all year round. Take it from me, Mrs Fuller is the real deal.’

  ‘So, with such a success on your hands, why the Firebird?’

  Lenny gave me a foolish half grin. ‘Well, yeah, it’s Mrs Fuller again. Come, lemme show you the future of gambling in Las Vegas.’

  ‘You mean it’s not the Flamingo?’

  He swung the car around and we moved away smoothly. ‘Yeah, of course, whenever it’s finished, but she believe there’s room for more. She point out we cain’t accommodate all the high rollers and dames who wanna come to the El Marinero. She says sawdust casinos, they a thing of the past. The war is over; now we should build a casino with a hunnerd rooms, all en suite, with three, maybe four luxury penthouses as well. Her idea is we make a luxury resort for the rich only. Everything “comped”: wives, girlfriends get to use all the amenities so long as their guys spend big at the tables. She says it’s possible to attract three times the number of patrons we got already. Post-war America gonna boom.’

  ‘So, this time they listen, right?’

  Lenny grinned and shook his head. ‘Mafiosi don’t listen to dames, Jack. What does a dumb broad know, anyhow? They long since forgot it was her idea about the rich high rollers and the GAWP Bar. Besides, Accardo took the credit for the idea of investing money so it don’t go to the taxation. He says the El Marinero suits us just fine; he don’t agree Las Vegas and gambling gonna be the future, an opportunity for the Mobsters to turn legitimate. We already got what we want, a small casino the feds don’t even notice. He can skim a bit off the top and launder money. Far as he concerned, it the perfect arrangement. Why change?’

  ‘Skim? Launder? You’re losing me, Lenny.’

  ‘Yeah, I forgot, you don’t know the business. “Skim” means we take maybe ten per cent of the winnings in cash before we declare the profit to the state. Launder is when you bring in dirty money from outa town and you put it through the casino as your cash float, so it come out the other side washed clean. For any godfather, that’s the main benefit of a casino. Now Mrs Fuller wants to build something bigger, a luxury resort.’

  I was gazing out at the brilliant blue desert sky, as Lenny continued. He’d always been a good talker, and clearly this town was his passion.

  ‘Like I said, Chicago ain’t convinced. Accardo is certain the Jews gonna fuck up big time wid building the Flamingo, and he could be right. The building, the site, it ain’t goin’ good, they over deadline, over budget. Rumour says Bugsy Siegel’s stealing from his own Mob, that he’s got two-and-a-half million bucks of New York’s money in a Swiss bank account in the name of Virginia Hill.’

  ‘Lenny, why are you telling me all this? You’ve hired me to play the piano!’

  ‘Jack, I know you’ve come a long way – Canada, then near across America. You must be beat, man, but if you gonna stay in Las Vegas, you should unnerstan’ who you working for. Things ain’t never what they seem to be here. Everything is fine, so long as everybody mind their own business. Everything on the surface legit, but unnerneath? Unnerstan’ we still gangsters. Every casino got a cleanskin like me runnin’ the joint. Some investors ain’t even Mobsters, they just businesspeople got themselves a good investment. Mafiosi don’t always own the majority shares neither. They like to hide behind legitimate business investors. But the Mobs own the skim and they got the money-laundering facility, also some nice legitimate profits. They run the gambling and the strong-arm bad-debt collecting.’ Lenny glanced at me. ‘Jack, step on the wrong toes in this town and suddenly you gonna disappear.’

  ‘Well, thanks for the warning, Lenny.’ Had I known all this when he offered me a job, if I’d have accepted. But now, under this brilliant sky, I felt like a new man, and Lenny had trusted me enough to be honest. I decided to trust him in return. ‘I guess I’ll be working for gangsters, right?’

  Lenny didn’t answer directly. ‘People are the same everywhere. They just want to have a good time, relax a little. For ten years during prohibition the Sicilians and the Jews were where the action was. Everyone had a personal bootlegger – judges, doctors, big businessmen – they all buying their liquor from us. Do ya think those cocksucker senators and congressmen in Washington stopped drinkin’ for ten years? Or whoring? Course they fuckin’ didn’t. Ferchrissakes, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, ain’t that what America is all about? Check the goddamn Declaration of Independence! We give them what they want and that’s why they tolerate us. That’s what we do, except here it’s all legal.’

  ‘What about prostitution?’ I asked, thinking of the twins. ‘Is that legal here?’

  ‘Not right here in Las Vegas, but near enough. It’s just a hop, skip ’n’ jump to the county line.’ He laughed. ‘On the other hand, one of your patrons picks himself up a nice-looking gal in your piano bar, she ain’t gonna tell him it ain’t legal and to keep his money in his wallet to buy his wife roses. Besides, the local cops know the drill. The Mormon pricks that run everything here depend on us for the majority of their state taxes. They ain’t stoopid, they don’t do in-depth investigation. This is American apple-pie land. Everything’s legit and we ain’t gonna spoil that none, no sirree, this is a crime-free city and everyone gonna see it stay that way – the I-talians, the New York Jews, the Irish, all of us.’

  ‘What about drugs? I’ve read it’s the new street crime in America.’

  ‘Not so new, Jack. But that’s nigger stuff. The Mafiosi don’t run drugs; no way, man! That stuff is poison. The niggers can sell it to each other, who fucking cares?’

  I thought of Joe and the others in the band. The term ‘nigger’ was so unjust. My old man was a vicious drunk and Joe was the best man I had ever known. But this didn’t seem to be the time to take Lenny to task about such a common, cruel, unthinking and stupid American term.

  ‘I don’t tolerate staff using here at the casino, not even the kitchen and general staff.’ He paused and glanced at me. ‘Marijuana, weed; you not one of them musicians who uses that shit are ya, Jack?’

  ‘Lenny, I don’t even drink!’

  ‘The last thing we want around the hotels and casinos is police looking for drugs. It’s the one thing the Mormons won’t tolerate. If I find any staff using here, they’re out on their sweet ass.’

  ‘Yeah, well, thanks, you’ve kind of answered all my questions and much more, but I’m curious to know if I’ll be working for you or Mrs Fuller.’

  ‘Bridgett Fuller runs GAWP, so you’ll be working for her, Jack.’

  ‘So, I guess she’ll teach me the ways of the casino?’

  Lenny laughed. ‘Sure, but I’ll be there also.’

  ‘And I’ll take my instructions from her?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Okay, then let’s go meet her. Lenny, I’m grateful for the advice.’

  ‘Jack, we buddies, I want you to come and work wid us. I think you gonna enjoy it. But you righ
t, you gotta see Mrs Fuller and she gotta see you.’ Lenny paused. ‘Sometimes these things, they don’t work out.’

  ‘Oh, is there something I should know? Something you haven’t told me?’

  ‘Jack, you were never easy to bullshit. GAWP, that’s her bag, that’s her strength wid Chicago, she got complete control of that aspect and it the main reason why we building the Firebird, so . . .’ he hesitated, a sheepish grin on his face, ‘it only natural she want to decide who works for her, who gonna play in the new piano bar.’

  ‘Oh . . . I see. So, it’s not a done deal?’ I’d come a long way on the strength of Lenny’s letter and a single phone call. Now it seemed that the job was only mine if Mrs Fuller agreed. ‘Couldn’t you have told me this on the phone, buddy?’

  Lenny shrugged expressively. ‘Jack, I know you two gonna hit it off. But she got six piano players from LA and they take turns, two weeks each, to play in the GAWP Bar. They all old guys, left over from the silent movies. In my opinion the Firebird gonna need new blood, young guy like you.’ Lenny smiled. ‘You the best, Jack. I told her she ain’t heard nothing yet.’

  ‘But, naturally, she’s not prepared to take your word for it?’ Before Lenny could react, I added, ‘Well, that’s hardly surprising. I’m a Canadian, she’s never heard of me. Why didn’t you arrange for a record?’

  ‘Hey, I never thought of that!’ Then, almost as quickly, he added, ‘But understand, Jack, the GAWP Bar ain’t just good music, it’s also personality. The rich broads, they gotta like you. There’s an I-talian word, simpatico . . .’

  ‘Yeah, I know what it means.’

  ‘Well then, you cain’t send no personality rating on no gramophone record.’

  I was beginning to see why Lenny had spent all this time building up Mrs Fuller. ‘So, it’s really not up to you at all?’

  Lenny frowned. ‘Jack, gimme a break, will ya? I’m front of house. What do I know about running a casino, eh? When the Firebird comes on stream, if the authorities come askin’ questions I supposed to own the joint. I got some influence, sure.’ He tapped the rim of the steering wheel. ‘Mrs Fuller wants to rehearse the new piano player at the El Marinero for the next six months, before we open on The Strip. She wants a young guy wid all-round musical talent who’ll be popular with the high-roller broads.’ He grinned. ‘So, I told her I knew just the man.’