by Joe Corso
Memories flooded Red’s brain:
The summer of nineteen forty–five seemed like yesterday when news over the radio had announced that the Second World War had ended. People had exited their homes by the masses and celebrated by dancing in the street, absolutely delirious with happiness. Red remembered seeing Louie take his widow neighbor, who lived in the house across the street from him, by the arm and dance a jig with her. He remembered walking along these same streets seeing the stars on the small flags hung on the windows he passed. Each star represented a son in the service. Almost every home had at least one star, and some had two, three, even four stars. Several flags displayed a purple star, meaning that this family had lost their boy. Every young soldier, past and present, was in uniform.
Louie’s two boys had joined the army and had gone to Italy to fight. They were part of the Italian Americans who made up a third of America’s fighting men in the Second World War. That’s why Louie had danced in the street with the widow across the street. His sons were coming home. The war had ended.
Maybe that’s why Red liked these men. They were proud. They hadn’t shirked the responsibilities that accompanied their new homeland and along with a host of other nationalities, they were part of the melting pot that made America so great. Funny, Red thought, how one little visit could trigger so many thoughts in just seconds. For some crazy reason, Red thought of Mussolini and how he was ashamed that that guy was Italian.
The men enjoyed their coffee and chatted about old times. It was rare that Red was here in the shop for any length of time so no one was in a hurry for these moments to end. Moose and Tarzan really enjoyed seeing the reverence shown to their leader, and the glimpse into his history with the barber friends was refreshing to hear. The stories were quite entertaining.
Red finally stood to leave, not wanting to. When he did, so did Tarzan and Moose with the ever vigilant Tarzan stepping out the door for a look see to make sure there were no surprises waiting for them when they left. Red made it a point to shake each man’s hand and when Sam chided him for allowing his hair to become so disheveled, Red promised Sam that he would return soon for a haircut. That made the old man smile.
“Don’t-ah you worry, Don Fortunato,” the barber said. “When-ah you come-ah back, I make-ah you look-ah like-ah movie star.”
Red smiled and nodded.
“Now everybody get back to work. You got customers,” Red said as he laughed.
Red left Sam’s Barber Shop and walked along One Hundred Eighth Street. It was good to be out in the fresh air again. He turned down Forty–Third Avenue and leisurely, but purposefully, walked toward the site of The Starlight Club. He wanted to see it one last time, even in ruins.
All three men stood staring at the burned out remains of what was once their home away from home. They stood, without saying a word, just as they would at a funeral. Moose broke the silence.
“Are you gonna rebuild the club, boss?”
Red pondered the question for a moment.
“Nah, I don’t think so. Let’s see what Hoffa does with The Starlight Club South, but no matter, I’ve made up my mind . . . we’re moving west. We’re going into the movie business . . . but before we do that, I have some unfinished business with Mr. Lonegan.
Chapter Nineteen
The Corona Gentleman’s Club was not open to the general public, but it was now meticulously remodeled and could now officially serve as Red’s new business headquarters which meant that life at the Zebra Club could return to normal. Jake was pleased. His business had increased and Red was kind enough to compensate him for the inconvenience of having outsiders use his offices for business. The Corona Gentleman’s Club wasn’t The Starlight Club but it was where Yip had conducted business when he was the boss of this outfit. Red never liked the Gentleman’s Club – it was too bland for his taste – austere, had no personality. The club was a no frills, bare bones type social club and that was the way Yip had wanted it. Red had always preferred the ambiance of The Starlight Club where he could entertain his guests in style. But at the moment, he was glad that he had held onto this place, and with his designer team and the magic touches of Angelo, the mastermind behind The Starlight Club, Moose had taken Red’s vision and transformed it into something that was quite comfortable now.
“I want the place renovated,” Red had said to Angelo. “I’d like the walls paneled, Persian rugs on the floor and whatever else you can think of. I want the place to look bright and inviting if you know what I mean.”
Angelo had understood exactly what Red wanted.
“This club-ah is very depressing but-ah don’t-ah worry, padrone. I will make-ah this place look wonderful for you-ah, but-ah you will have-ah to put up with-ah working around-ah me some-ah time-ah.”
“I know how you work Angelo. I’ll get out of your way whenever you tell me to move.”
“That’s all-ah I ask-ah, Red. I will surprise-ah you at how beautiful this-ah place-ah will be when I’m-ah finished witha it.”
“Thanks, Angelo. Whatever you need, ask Moose and he’ll get it for you. When you need money for supplies, just see him and he’ll take care of you and see that you have everything you need.”
Today had more of a party feeling to it than what should be the serious tone of business meeting. Red knew that a meeting with his eight captains was long overdue. Rather than have Tarzan organize it, he personally called each one and instructed each to be present at an upcoming Monday morning meeting that he would be chairing. They were pleased to hear that Red was back at the helm. Their leader was holding a meeting after having been shot five times.
Red called the meeting to order. The men in the room studied him carefully to see if he had fully recovered. By all appearances, he had. That confidence was the source of the festive mood – that and the fact that the business reports were good. Earnings hadn’t dropped, and had in fact, remained steady, even though the feds had been hunting him – a surprise to all. As the main portion of their business was being concluded, a man in the back raised his hand.
“Go ahead, Moe. What is it?”
“I assume that since we’re holding the meeting here that it’s safe to speak?”
“I always have my people come in and sweep the place well,” Red responded. “And I even have someone on the payroll whose sole job is just that – to make sure that we’re safe, so go ahead.”
“Did we have anything to do with Kennedy getting whacked?”
You could have heard a feather drop. This was a question on most everyone’s mind, but this brave soul had the brass to ask it.
“No,” Red answered in a staccato, matter-of-fact manner, “but if it hadn’t happened, we might’ve had to discuss it.”
Another hand shot up.
“Go ahead, Charlie.”
“What about Bobby Kennedy and that flunky of his, Lonegan? What’s gonna happen to ‘em? I’m askin’ the question for the boys cuz we’re a little pissed off that those government bastards came here, destroyed the club, tried to kill you and wound up killin’ a couple of people in the process. Now that you’re back, we’d like to know what cha gonna do about it.”
“Good question,” Red answered. “Okay, let’s go back a bit. I was tipped off that something was gonna happen in Texas. It really didn’t take a genius to put two and two together and figure out that was where Jack was gonna get whacked. I was also told Bobby has his coming, but not right away. It’ll be a couple of years, it appears. You all know that the Kennedys broke their word to us, broke their word after the Kennedy father pleaded with us to have Costello’s hit taken off of him, the Kennedy old man. Oh yeah, you know – we’d now ‘have a friend in the White House’ if we helped Jack get elected. We’d have power and access. That was the trade. Having a friend in the White House was definitely better than killin’ the guy. And don’t forget, if we’d let Joe get killed, even without our help, the Kennedys still had a chance to win reelection and then instead of having friends in the White House,
we would’ve had enemies. But once Jack was elected President, they went back on their word, which meant that someone we know made the decision that Jack would get whacked.”
Another hand raised.
“Go ahead, Bert.”
“What about Lonegan? What are we gonna do about him ‘cause we just can’t give him a pass after what he done to us … to you?”
Red looked around the room at the expectant faces of his captains. He knew they wanted him to reassure them that Lonegan wasn’t forgotten now that Bobby was out of power. In the unlikely case he was being recorded from a distance, he chose his words carefully. Even though he had eyes everywhere on the street, supposedly, there was this new technology that allowed you to listen to conversations by shooting a beam of some sort against a window. Red didn’t quite believe it, but why take a chance? He was careful.
“Friends of ours have definite plans for Bobby and that’s a certainty, and some in this room have plans for Lonegan, and that’s also a certainty.”
Another hand, this time in the front.
“Go ahead, Paulie.”
“Are you going to rebuild The Starlight Club?”
“No, but as many of you know, I have an agreement with Jimmy Hoffa to build a Starlight Club South for his union members. He’s planning on building a hotel or motel alongside the club for the convenience of his members. Whether it’ll ever happen, only God knows, but one thing is for sure, and that is . . . I’m planning on expanding our interests into the movie industry. I intended to use Jimmy the Hat’s success in movies to get a foot in the industry, but when he died, I had to take a step back and revise my plans. Most of you know Swifty.”
There were murmurs of, “Good kid,” “Nice guy,” and “Yeah, we know him.”
“He’s your middleweight champ,” Red said, “but more important, we got lucky again because his first picture was a big hit. He completed his second picture which is being released soon and shooting starts on a third picture in a few days. He’s gonna be our springboard into films. Our family is mostly legit now. We’ve evolved from hijacking trucks to owning the trucks. We don’t have to strong arm companies for three dollars a month. We legitimately collect from three thousand businesses. They subscribe to our security companies, our linen cleaning services, use our trucks for shipping, and pay for our uniformed security men to guard their banks and stores. We don’t have to lend money on the street for ten percent ‘cause we own the banks that give out twenty, thirty percent on the money. You get the picture. We are presently ninety–five percent legitimate and in two years, I want to be a hundred percent legit. I just hate to give up our bookmaking business.”
Everyone laughed.
“We have plenty of investment capital that allows us to buy legitimate businesses if it suits our growth projections. We will own a movie studio, if I have my way, and when it becomes profitable, I intend to investigate investing in a casino in Vegas.”
The room buzzed with excitement. Red’s men had no idea he was so forward thinking. Red had clearly spelled out his vision. They liked what they were hearing . . . and they were happy, happy to have Big Red Fortunato on their side. Yes, the men were on the right team as far as they were concerned.
Chapter Twenty
“Here take these,” Red said to Trenchie as he handed him the keys to a new Lincoln town car.
“What are these for?” Trenchie asked.
“I want you to drive out to California, only this time, make sure you get there. I’m sending Moose with you so you have somebody to keep you company and watch your back. I’ll feel better knowing you have him with you. Besides Moose knows the realtor lady in Hollywood. She got Jimmy the Hat his house in Hollywood Hills. When you leave, Moose’ll stay. He’ll be Swifty’s bodyguard. Moose was good for Jimmy the Hat and he’ll be good for Swifty.”
“When do you want me to leave?” Trenchie asked with one thing foremost on his mind.
“Wait until the baby’s born, then leave as soon after as you can. I’m sorry to take you away from your wife, but we need to find a location for our studio as soon as possible. You know, now that I think about it, this may not be the best time for you to be away from Mary. Maybe it’s better if I send Tarzan instead.
“No, I’ll go,” Trenchie quickly added. “I wanna go.”
He was emphatic.
“You sure?” Red asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll leave after the baby’s born and after I’m sure Mary’s comfortable with the idea. I wouldn’t go if we didn’t have someone lookin’ out for her. Karen said that if I needed to go away on business again that she’d stop by every day for a while and she’d even have her housekeeper stay at our house for a while if need be.”
Red nodded. Hearing all this made him relax a bit. The last thing he needed was a man on his team, away on assignment, with his head not really in the game.
“Here. Take your keys back,” Trenchie said as he handed the keys back to Red. “I’m flyin’ to California this time. I don’t think I have to worry about Lonegan. He’s probably been taken off the case by the new Attorney General and I’m probably the last thing that our demoted Bobby boy is concerned with right now. I don’t think he wants to make any waves at this stage of the game.”
Red nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, with Nixon in the White House, I think our new President would love for Bobby to fuck up so he can use it against him. No, I think you’re right. Bobby’ll tread lightly now that his big brother can’t help him anymore.”
Trenchie nodded back.
“That’s exactly the way I read it. I’ll go out to California and take care of business, do what I have to do, and even though I hate flyin’, I’m headin’ back home without havin’ to drive three thousand gruelin’ miles each way.”
“You know Trench. I think we’re right about Bobby, but what if Lonegan wasn’t called back? What if he’s still on your trail? I think it’s more than following orders with him. This guy takes everything personal. He’s part of some secret government agency right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“What if Bobby told him this operation is over, but he disregards the order and continues to hunt you? That means either he has authorization from his boss to continue on the case or, he has the necessary clearance to keep the file open on his own. If that’s the case, you know he’ll be coming after you. I’m theorizing this scenario a bit ‘cause he may still have more moves to play and one of ‘em could be you.”
Red looked at his friend but he couldn’t read his face. Trenchie was quiet for a moment. Then in his usual Trenchie straight forward manner he said, “If he comes anywhere near me, I’ll kill him.”
And so it was with Trenchie, never at a loss for words, just a few brief words always delivered in deadpan monotones but deadpan serious.
Red slapped his friend on the arm.
“Trenchie, I don’t want you back in jail. Be careful. If you have to off the guy, make sure when you do it, there’s no agents around. Got it? You make sure there is not a soul who can ID you, understand?”
Three weeks after that conversation, Mary gave birth to a beautiful seven pound, three ounce, baby boy they named James, after the famous movie star Jimmy the Hat, the best man at their wedding. One week after that, Trenchie picked up Moose at the Gentleman’s Club. Together, they drove to Idlewild Airport where they parked in the long term parking lot. Once on board, their American Airlines flight to LAX took six hours. After touchdown, they strode into the baggage claim area where Swifty was there waiting for them, donned in the disguise of a longshoreman, wearing a pea cap pulled down just above his eyes. It was working so far. No one had recognized the boxer/movie star.
Lonegan shot straight out of his chair.
“You mean . . . he’s here . . . at LAX?”
“Yes. I’m looking at him now. A guy that big is hard to miss,” the voice on the other end said.
“Stay with ‘em,” Lonegan said. “Don’t lose ‘em. Find out what hote
l their staying at and then call me. I’ll meet up with you guys. I wanna be there for this.”
Trenchie quickly picked out the men standing by the luggage carousel. Three guys, casually dressed, trying hard to appear and act naturally while waiting for their nonexistent baggage.
Trenchie bent down to check an address label on a suitcase and whispered to Moose.
“I caught three guys standin’ in back of the woman next to you, stealin’ glances. They seem interested in us.”
Red’s men proceeded to collect their bags and head out to the car that Swifty had waiting. Once on the highway, Trenchie turned from his front seat passenger seat to talk to Moose, in the back seat, but instead of talking, he was looking intentionally past him, out the back window. He spotted the car a few car lengths behind.
“Swifty,” Trenchie said, “go past the hotel exit. Let’s get off the one after that.”
Swifty briefly looked at Trenchie but said nothing. Swifty did as he was told.
“There,” Trenchie said, “pull into that hotel over there on the right.”
Swifty pulled the car into the parking lot. The three men got out and walked right up to the desk clerk.
Trenchie asked, “Do you have a penthouse suite available?”
The desk clerk answered, “No, but if you’re interested, we have a luxury suite available.”
Trenchie acted a little interested.
“Is your dining room still open?”
The clerk pointed to a door on his right.
“Yes, go down the hall and turn right and you’ll see it, facing the parking lot. You can’t miss it.”
“Great. We’ll grab some dinner first, if that’s okay, and we’ll let you know about the room. Thanks for your help.”
The clerk did a double take at Swifty. He looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place him. The three men walked toward the dining room, but instead of taking a table, Trenchie steered them his way nodding and clearly sending an unspoken message. They stepped out the side door leading to the parking lot and walked back around the building where they waited by the front entrance of the hotel. Moments later, three other men exited through the hotel’s front door and stopped mid stride when they found themselves eyeball to eyeball with the men they’d been following. It happened quickly. Trenchie slammed the first guy with a powerful right hand to the sweet part of his chin. While still dazed and grasping his jaw, Trenchie quickly reached inside the man’s jacket, pulled his gun from his shoulder holster, and pointed it at the other two men, surprising them with the speed of it all. Had the men cleared their holsters just a second earlier, they would have had a clear shot at Swifty, but lucky for him, Trenchie got the drop on them first.
