by Joe Corso
Red didn’t mince words; he got right to the point.
“The kid that delivers meat to my place, his truck broke down and in this heat, the meat will go bad if it stays in the truck. I was wondering if we could use your refrigerated truck and help the kid out by putting his load of meat in your truck and maybe storing it your refrigerator until he can get his truck fixed? What? Good. I’m sending someone down to pick up the truck. We’ll get it back to you as soon as possible. Good, and thanks, Jimmy. I won’t forget this.”
“What did he say, boss?” asked Fat Charlie.
“We can use his refrigerated truck, but someone’s got to go down to his place to pick it up. Now who can I get in a hurry?” Red looked at his Vericon monitor and spotted Bobby, his meat deliverer, sitting at the bar nursing a beer while going over his invoices. Red stepped out from behind his desk and opened the door and called out to Bobby, and when he had his attention, he motioned for him to come to his office.
“What’s up, Red? I just finished your invoice. Here it is.”
Red glanced at the invoice and put it in the unpaid bills tray. “That’s not what I called you in here for. I need a favor. Are you finished for the day?” Bobby, who now owned 4 States Meat and Poultry Supply, nodded.
“Yeah. The Starlight Club was my last delivery for the day.”
“Good. Since you’re the only one around, you’re elected to do this for me.”
“Sure, Red. If I can help you, you know I will.”
“Good. I want you to go with Charlie to pick up a truck and I want you to drive it back here. It’s sort of an emergency and I’m willing to pay you a hundred bucks for a few hours’ work.”
A hundred dollars was a lot of money in the early sixties, considering the average guy made about $75.00 a week.
“Sure, Red. I can do that for you, and there’s no need to pay me any money. I’m happy to help.”
“That’s not the way I work, kid. You do something for me and I do something for you.”
Bobby shrugged his shoulders. “The money isn’t necessary, but thanks, Red. I appreciate it.”
Red didn’t like putting the kid in a position where he could get in trouble with the law, but this was important and it had to be done right away. If anything was to happen and the law picked up the kid, Doc would straighten it out. Besides, he rationalized that there was nothing illegal about driving a legitimate truck from one place to another. When it got down to the loading and unloading of the flank steaks, the kid wouldn’t be involved with any of that.
“Wait outside, Bobby. I want to talk to Charlie for a minute.”
Bobby walked back to the bar and picked up his beer and took a sip. He didn’t want to hear what Red was telling Charlie. It was none of his business and, besides, it was healthier for him not to know anything that could come back later to haunt him if the police picked him up.
“When you deliver the meat to Jimmy, Charlie, ask him to show you his latest invoice from his wholesaler showing what he paid per pound for the flank steaks. Jimmy will know to pay you twenty-five percent of the wholesale price. You might have to make two trips, maybe three, ‘cause I don’t know how big Jimmy’s truck is. Whatever it is, you’ll only need the kid for the one trip. Take him back with the truck and drop him off here and then head over to the junkyard and see how much meat you can fit in Jimmy’s truck. Let’s hope Jimmy has a big truck.”
Just then, Red happened to glance at his monitor and spotted Piss Clam walking through the front door. Red told Charlie to tell Bobby to come in there and then tell Piss Clam not to go anywhere ‘cause he had a job for him to do. Bobby walked back into Red’s office, wondering what just happened.
“Bobby, I’m not gonna need you. I’ll use Piss Clam instead. I want you to know that I appreciate you offering to help me. And just to show you my heart’s in the right place, here’s fifty bucks. Take your wife out and have dinner on me.”
Bobby knew enough not to refuse the money. It was Red’s way of thanking him for being there when he needed him. As soon as Bobby left, Piss Clam entered the office.
“What’s up, Red?”
It took three trips for the meat to be transferred to Jimmy’s truck and delivered to him. This was a windfall for Jimmy and it was the beginning of the truck hijackings for Red and his crew, since he stopped doing it when he attempted to go completely legitimate. They were back in action now because Red finally got the message that he wouldn’t be moving his family out of Queens because he realized that it was impossible for him to completely legitimize his businesses. Yeah, he was investing in mostly legitimate businesses now, like his car franchises and his casinos and movie companies, but the swag and hijacking, and protection and the numbers and the horses were still operating. However, Red was philosophical about his businesses, justifying them by telling himself that he didn’t deal in drugs or prostitution. His was a harmless series of side businesses that people wanted. Red allowed his crews to generate money without him personally getting involved in their day-to-day operations so long as it didn’t include drugs or women and as long as his men were big earners and they kicked in monthly with substantial amounts of money. Money that Red used to buy his movie production companies and Las Vegas casinos. Red couldn’t wait to get out to Las Vegas to see how Artie, his contractor friend, was coming along with the renovations on his two casinos.
Bull walking into the club with three men interrupted his thoughts.
“Red, we just came in to tell you that we’re leaving. I traded the Crown Victoria in for a Caddy convertible. Figure the weather should be nice driving to Vegas and if it is, we’ll put the top down and enjoy the trip.”
“Where are the other guys?” Red asked.
“They’re putting the luggage in the trunk. They’ll be in here in a moment.”
“Who are you taking with you?”
“Joey Bones wants to stop in Kansas City to see his sister, so he’s coming with us. I’m also taking two of my men along for company, Frankie ‘The Nose’ and Richie Fingers.”
Red looked at his watch. It was a little after ten in the morning. “Do you have enough cash on you for the trip?”
“Yeah, we have plenty.”
“Call me if you run into any trouble, okay?”
“What trouble could there be, Red? We’re gonna drive straight to Vegas with a stop in Kansas City and nothing happens in Kansas City.”
“Just watch yourselves, okay? I can’t explain it, but I got funny feeling, that’s all. So you call me if you need me.”
“You’re like an old lady, always worrying. Don’t worry; we’ll be fine. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll call you if we run into any trouble, okay? Do you feel better now?” Bull said, smiling. Red smiled back, a little embarrassed that he was carrying on like a little mother hen.
Bull got serious for a moment. “Red, these men have all made their bones. I couldn’t have better men traveling with me. These three guys and me could take care of an army if it came to that, and besides,” he said, smiling again, “I’ve got some artillery hidden in the trunk just in case.”
Red put his arm around Bull and said, “Tell Richie Fingers to keep his hands in his pockets. I don’t want him getting picked up on some bullshit pick-pocketing charge.”
Bull nodded. “Don’t worry. I told him I’d break his hands if I found them in anyone’s pockets. He assured me that he’s making good money with us since he joined our crew and he insists he’s a changed man. Says that he’s retired.”
“You believe him?”
“Hell no. He’s the best pickpocket in the business. Why in hell would he want to retire?” Bull said, laughing.
“Yeah, I feel the same way,” Red replied, chuckling. “Just make sure he stays out of trouble.”
“Don’t worry, Red, I’ll watch him. Well, we better be going. I figure it’s about twelve hundred miles to Kansas City and other than that one stop, we’ll probably drive straight through to Vegas. I’ll call you when
we get there.”
Red’s eyes narrowed. “Or sooner if you get in trouble.”
Bull nodded. “Or sooner . . . if we get in trouble.”
Chapter Three
Red left the club, walked down the three steps, and waited for Bull to put the top down on the car, then he said goodbye to his men. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “I’ll see you guys in Vegas,” he said as the car slowly
pulled away and made the turn on 111th Street, heading toward the newly constructed Long Island Expressway. But as he watched the car become a small dot on the horizon and then finally disappear in the distance, the feeling that something bad was looming on the horizon made his skin crawl. Something didn’t feel right about Bull and the boys making this trip by car and Red had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts. But right now, he had other concerns to consider, so he put the trip Bull was making out of his mind and hoped he didn’t get bad news. Oh well, he thought. It’s too late for second-guessing. Whatever it was he was feeling, when it surfaced, he’d take care of it like he took care of every problem that surfaced.
Bull knew that the cops were sometimes wary of anyone who did the exact speed limit, so he kept the car at a steady five miles above the limit. Cops were always on the lookout for speeders and especially a speeder in a fancy Cadillac or Lincoln, so he kept his speed steady at five miles above the limit using the new optional cruise control offered on the high-end cars, which he had made sure was on this car when he bought it from Red’s Caddy dealership. When they entered Ohio, Bull pulled into a service area to get something to eat and hit the rest room for a much needed piss stop.
Joey Bones was behind the wheel when they were back on the road. Bull cautioned him to make sure he set the cruise control at the proper speed. It wouldn’t pay to get pulled over by a cop with the weapons they had hidden in the special compartment under the spare tire in the trunk. Bull had Yip’s mechanic that Red occasionally used to make the special modifications needed to hide his guns. Yip always believed it was a necessity to be able to get at your handguns from inside the car instead of getting out to retrieve them from the trunk where you would be a target for any assassin intending to kill you. Bull made sure he had the same setup as Red had in his car, with the exception that his Cadillac wasn’t bulletproofed.
It was dusk when they drove into Indiana and the cold wind blowing through the car with the top down was becoming uncomfortable.
“Pull into the next rest area. It’s getting chilly. I want to put the top up.”
Joey pulled into the next rest stop and slipped in a Sinatra 8-track tape while sitting in the driver’s seat as the top closed on the big car. Wasting no time, they got back on the road and when the big, heavy Caddy reached cruising speed, it traveled the highway comfortably, eating up the miles as they passed through Indiana without stopping. Bull sat hunched over in the passenger seat, getting some shuteye. They entered Illinois and had to stop for gas, coffee, and some snacks. Bull, always alert, even while sleeping, opened his eyes when the car stopped.
“Where are we?”
“We’re in Missouri,” Frankie the Nose answered.
Bull nodded. “When we get back on the road, you do the driving.”
Joey turned to Bull. “I’m all right. I can drive.”
“No. Frankie is rested and you’ve been driving too long. The Nose will do the driving.” Joey liked driving, but he handed Frankie the keys.
“Come on; I could do with a cup of coffee.”
The men sat at a table, sipping coffee and eating sandwiches. Bull asked Joey where his sister lived.
“We’re getting close now. What’s your sister’s address?”
Joey reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the slip of paper he had written her address on and handed it to Bull.
“Bonner Springs, eh.” He stood and said, “I’m gonna buy a map. I’ll be right back.”
When he returned, he opened the map and took out his pen and circled Joey’s sister’s street. “Why don’t you give her a call and tell her we’ll be arriving soon? According to this map, it’s only about fifty miles from here. We should be there in an hour or less.”
Joey left the table to call his sister and when he returned, the guys couldn’t help noticing the look on his face. He looked like he could kill someone. Bull was curious.
“What’s wrong, Joey?”
“My sister picked up the phone, but she was crying. I heard a guy in the background telling her to hang up the phone, that he wasn’t through with her yet. Before she hung up the phone or someone hung up the phone for her, she managed to tell me not to come there.” Joey was the silent type who never showed much emotion. He looked up at the guys. “Maybe you guys should find a motel for tonight. Because if that son of a bitch hurt my sister, I’m gonna kill him, so you guys might be better off making yourself scarce.”
Bull shook his head. “Look, Joey. If there’s gonna be trouble, then we’ll all going into the house together and we’ll handle the problem.”
When they got back on the road, Joey told Bull, “Open the compartment. I need a gun.”
“Don’t you think we should find out what happened first?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll find out what happened, all right. But I want a gun handy just in case I don’t get the answer I want.”
Guns and violence weren’t new to this crew, but violence was always used judiciously and with a purpose. Bull leaned over almost to where the Nose’s right leg rested and pushed a hidden button. The bottom of the dashboard clicked open and dropped down, displaying three automatics and one revolver. He reached in and released a 1911 45-caliber Colt automatic, the ones combat soldiers used during the First and Second World Wars and handed it to Joey Bones. Then he kept one of the guns for himself and he handed the other two guns to his other two men. No one spoke, and the car was ominously quiet as they cruised closer to their destination until they finally pulled up to a small Cape Cod type house. There was a car parked in the driveway.
“Pull up beside that tree by the curb. I don’t want anyone to see us park in front of her house,” Joey said coldly.
The four men got out of the car and walked up the driveway to the front door. Bull and the other two men waited in the shadows by the side of the door so they couldn’t be seen by whoever answered the door. Joey knocked and waited. When no one answered, he knocked again, only this time, harder. Heavy steps could be heard walking toward the door. Then the door opened a crack and a big man in a greasy white tank top stood there looking warily at Joey until he finally asked angrily, “What the hell do you want?”
Joey smiled disarmingly with his hands behind his back, hiding the gun in his hand and said, “I came to see my sister.”
He noticed that Joey was five feet, ten inches tall, very slim. He stood good three or four inches taller than Joey and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds. He was confident that this jerk was no threat to him. He snarled, “She’s not here, so you better leave before I get pissed off and kick the shit out you.
When Joey heard that, he looked almost bored. “Excuse me, but could you stand a little to the left of the door?”
Confused by that request, the large man asked, “Why?”
Joey explained calmly, “Because I’m about to kick the door in, and when I do it, I don’t want you to get hurt because I wanna hurt you myself.”
The big man hesitated for a brief moment and that was when Joey kicked the door with all of his might and it sprung open, ripping the chain off of the jamb, causing the man to stumble backwards, almost knocking him off of his feet. Joey rushed in and pressed his gun against the large man’s face. The man was about to chance wrestling the gun from him, but when the other three hard-looking men entered the house, he knew it was useless to attempt it. Joey slipped the gun in the nape of his back and then he told Bull to keep his eye on this guy while he searched the house for his sister.
Bull laughed. “H
ell, I don’t need a gun to take care of a piece of shit like this pussy.” The man looked at Bull and noticed the heavy scar tissue on the brows above his cold, dead eyes and knew that he was in a world of trouble.
Joey found his sister locked in the bedroom closet.
“I’ll be right back, sis. I’m just going to get the key from your boyfriend.”
He walked back to the living room where Bull had the guy seated. “Give me the key to the closet.”
It wasn’t a request; it was an order. The man reached into his pocket and handed Joey the key. Joey walked back into the bedroom and opened the closet door and his sister fell into his arms, crying hysterically. Joey held his sister close until her sobbing subsided. Joey Bones, the cold, calculating killer, tenderly pushed his sister away from him and held her at arm’s length so he could look at her. He noticed his sister’s eye was black and blue and her upper lip was swollen. Her lower lip was split with blood oozing from it. Joey bit his forefinger and ground his teeth.
“Son of a bitch. Did he do this to you?”
She put her head down and nodded. “Yes. He was high on drugs and didn’t know what he was doing.”
Joey’s face contorted into a hideous mask. “Didn’t know what he was doing, eh? Didn’t know it when he locked you in the closet? Don’t bullshit me, JoAnne. How often has he done this to you?”
She turned her head sheepishly away so he couldn’t see her expression. Joey put his finger under her chin and pulled her toward him until she was facing him again.
