by Joe Corso
“What in hell is a laser?” Piss Clam asked.
“Its definition is Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. LASER is the acronym used to describe it.”
Jeff positioned himself behind a parapet on the roof of the building across from the Federal Building. Joey Bones was right. Reynolds’ office was located on the seventh floor. Joey had located the right floor. Now Jeff lined up the laser, he switched the tape recorder to voice activated, and he trained the infrared laser on the parabolic mike on Reynolds’ office window. If anyone in that room said anything, the recorder would recognize the vibration bouncing off the window and the recorder would start recording everything that was said.
Reynolds pushed a button on his console. “Charles, please come to my office.”
Charles Crawford, Reynolds’ executive officer and committed member of the coup, knocked once, then opened the door and took a seat across from his boss. “You wanted to see me Mr. Reynolds?”
“Yes. I’d like to go over a few ideas with you. I’ve been thinking about the men who are protecting the actress. I underestimated them. They are cunning adversaries and I must remember not to underestimate them again. We don’t know where the actress is because no one had the opportunity to take down the car’s license plate number. But we do know the location of their headquarters. I think we should either raid the club in Queens or blow it up as a demonstration of our power. We should teach these men a lesson they won’t forget. When you declare war on the United States of America, you cannot win. Not ever.”
Charles was disturbed by the suggestion of bombing a building just to teach someone a lesson and he was very vocal about it. “Mr. Reynolds, surely you can’t be serious. There must be another way, a simpler way to achieve our goal.”
“And what would that simpler way be, Charles? I’ve just about run out of ideas, so if you have any, I would like to hear them. I have to report to the attorney general and I would like to give him good news for a change. I want to tell him something positive.”
Charles had to think fast. “Our reports will tell us who the most powerful men in that organization are. Once we know that, then we can plan on either killing them all at once or picking them off one at a time. Once their leaders are gone, the organization will wither and die. At least this approach has our presence behind it and we’re not just throwing a bomb in their building and hoping for the best.”
Reynolds agreed. “That approach may very well work. Do you have any other suggestions we can discuss while we’re brainstorming?”
“Yes. I have one other suggestion. Why not prepare a ruse, a little misdirection. Start a commotion to draw them away, then send in a team and if we’re lucky and she’s there, we can snatch the girl. Use the ‘KISS’ method. ‘Keep It Simple, Stupid.’ Don’t complicate it. Just keep it simple and it should work out just fine. We may not have to raid their premises. We may just have to follow them and find a place to ambush them, take them unawares. The latter suggestion may be our best opportunity because we wouldn’t have to enter a building to get to them. You never know what you’ll run into when you do that. But if we find an opportunity to get them while they’re out in the open, it’ll make it much easier for us to kill them and take the girl. But in order to put into practice something that appears simple, we must plan it very carefully. We must watch them. Keep them under surveillance then when we find the flaw in their daily routine, we strike. We strike swiftly and deadly. Remember we must find the perfect place for an unexpected ambush.”
“You’re right once again, Charles. That’s why you’re my number one man. How do you suggest we proceed? I assume you’ve given this some thought, so tell me what you have in mind.”
Charles was pleased that Reynolds approved of him and his plan. “I suggest we put a two-man team on them twenty-four hours a day. Then when we know what their routine is, it will be a simple matter to locate the perfect place to put our plan into motion.”
Reynolds rubbed his hands together with glee. “Well then, find me the perfect place and let’s prepare to act.”
Jeff broke down his equipment, wrapped up for the day, and went to the Corona Gentleman’s Club. He took the recorder to Red’s office, where Tarzan was anxiously waiting for him. “Did you get anything?”
“Let me set this recorder on replay and I’ll let you be the judge.” Jeff switched the recorder to play and pressed start. The voices were tinny at first, but Jeff adjusted something and the voice quality became remarkably clear. Everyone listening to the conversation could understand every word that was spoken.
When the recording was finished, Tarzan said, “Make a copy of this and make sure I get it. Meanwhile, you keep your copy in a safe place.”
“I’ll make you a copy right now. You’ll have it before I leave.”
“Good. Do it. Jeff, you have to keep at this until we’re sure they take the bait in the trap I’m setting up for them.”
Jeff understood the gravity of what they wanted to do. “Geez, Tarzan. This is heavy stuff. I mean, we might be in a firefight with these guys soon. Sure, I’ll keep at it. I’ll find out the day and time they plan on ambushing you guys, then it’ll be up to you on how you want to use it. But don’t forget that one of their cars will be following you around the clock.”
CHAPTER 17
“Mr. Blue, when are you planning to come back to Queens? Things are happening fast now so try to get back here as soon as you can.”
“What’s going on?”
“Can’t talk about it on the phone, but that nice lady that’s with you; well, her friends are planning a surprise party for her and the boys.”
“I see. It’s like that, eh?” Red said, concerned.
“It’s worse than that.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll work it out. I’ll leave as soon as our guys get here.”
Tarzan told him what time the guys would be arriving and Red said that he’d pass that information to Moose. Then he instructed Tarzan to book a flight for him, Trenchie, and Marilyn on tomorrow’s flight to LaGuardia.
When he hung up the phone, Marilyn saw the change in his expression and she asked him what happened. “I don’t know. Tarzan would never have asked me to return if it wasn’t important. It concerns your friend Bobby. That’s all I know because Tarzan never says much over the phone. Too many ears could be listening.”
Red’s men had taken the previous night’s red eye. Red, Trenchie, and Marilyn were waiting at LAX for them at the arrival gate as the passengers de-planed and walked past them. Marilyn was right. The way she was dressed, no one recognized her. She wore no makeup, a drab brown coat, a black wig, and large dark glasses hidden under a Yankee baseball cap. Finally, Red’s men were seen among the passengers, walking through the jet way door. The men were surprised because they had no idea Red would be waiting for them when they arrived. They didn’t recognize the lady in the Yankee baseball cap as they walked toward Red. Before they reached him, Red motioned for them to follow him to an empty bank of chairs by an adjacent gate.
“Something’s come up and I’ve got to get back to Queens, but you guys are staying here with Moose, who will be in charge. He knows what’s going on, so you’ll take your orders from him. Stay alert, because there are a few things you need to be aware of. We killed three LA Dukes gang members. The gang operates here in Los Angeles. We don’t know if they’ll try to retaliate, but keep on your toes and be ready for the unexpected. You guys are here to protect the Nixon family and, whatever you do, I want you to be invisible so they won’t know that you’re watching them. This is a precaution. It’s probably nothing and I don’t expect any more trouble from these people. They took their best shot and when they did, Moose and the boys kicked their fuckin asses. My guess is they’ll try to get Nixon at the Republican Fund Raiser at Madison Square Garden next month. Don’t let your guard down; the LA Dukes are a very dangerous Latino gang operating here in Los Angeles. Again, like I said, it’s probab
ly nothing, but I don’t want to take any chances. Stay on your toes and listen to Moose. Any questions?”
Shooter picked up Red, Trenchie, and Marilyn at LaGuardia Airport. On the drive to the Gentlemen’s Club, he took shortcuts, using side streets in order to bypass the congested Grand Central Parkway. He weaved the car through familiar side streets to the Corona Gentlemen’s Club. As soon as they entered the club, Red led Marilyn into the safe room. “Stay here,” he said forcefully. She protested, but he insisted. “No women are allowed in the room while I’m conducting business. You don’t want to get into trouble a second time by hearing something you shouldn’t, do you? Remember, Marilyn, what you don’t hear, you can’t talk about. I want you to stay in that room, understand?”
She realized he was right, so she nodded, turned, and entered the safe room. As Red watched the room seal tight behind her, he shut off the intercom so she couldn’t hear what was said during the meeting.
“All right, Tarzan. Let’s have the bad news.” Tarzan explained to Red and Trenchie how he had Shooter and Joey Bones tail Reynolds from his office building to his home in Virginia.
“After we found out where he lives, I contacted Jeff, your security expert. I had him record Reynolds' telephone conversations using some new technology that I’m not familiar with, but it worked. Something about using a laser beam and bouncing it off a window and it lets you hear what they’re saying. I didn’t believe it until I heard the recording. You know Red, this guy Jeff is a goddamned genius with this high tech stuff. Someday, I’d like you to tell me where you found the guy. He’s as useful to us as Creighton used to be. Anyway, Jeff heard Charles Crawford, Reynolds’ second in command, suggest to him that they avoid tangling with us head on. He suggested they assign a two-man surveillance team to tail us twenty-four hours a day. They plan to follow us until they find the right place to ambush and kill us. They don’t want a head on fight because they know we’ll fight back and they’d be right about that. If we had a gunfight in the streets of Queens, it would make front-page headlines and that’s the last thing they want to happen. They know that they can’t get to Marilyn directly with us standing in their way and that leaves an ambush as their only other option. Knowing what we know now, we don’t have much time to plan our strategy. That’s why it was important that you get back here as fast as you did. We need to figure out how we’re gonna handle this situation.”
Red looked around and said, “This is one reason why I’m glad Tarzan joined our crew. He thinks like me. Piss Clam, how about getting me a cup of coffee? You know how I like it. I think much better with a cup of Joe in my hand. Okay. You say our guys followed him home, and we know where he lives, right?”
“Yeah. Joey Bones and Shooter followed him home; they followed him for two weeks. He’s such a pompous schmuck He’s the one who’s always doing the following and he doesn’t think anyone would ever follow him. He doesn’t live far from where Lonegan lived. The only problem is, he has a car pick him up in the morning to take him to work.”
Red interrupted. “That’s never been a problem before, so why is it a problem now?”
“Here’s what I was getting at, Red. Most of the time, there’s only a driver in the car with him, but every few days, a second agent’s in the car with the driver. I guess the second guy’s there to give Reynolds a briefing whenever it’s called for. But that’s just a guess on my part.”
Red sat in one of the kitchen chairs and sipped his coffee, thinking of what was said without saying a word. The guys all knew he was running different scenarios through his mind, discounting some and placing others on the side for further consideration. Finally, he put his cup down and looked at the guys. “The first thing I want to do is to listen to the tape. I want to hear for myself what Reynolds said.”
Tarzan wound the tape around the reel-to-reel spools and pressed the play button. Red listened to every word of the conversation with interest. When it was finished, he told Tarzan to make another copy. “We can’t go to the feds with this and we can’t contact the local police. Every one of us has a record and the authorities still don’t know that I didn’t die in the Starlight Club explosion.” Tarzan mumbled something under his breath and Red heard it. “Come on, Tarzan, out with it.”
“Well, something’s wrong with this picture… It’s just that some of the things we’ve done could put us away for a long time and now we do something good and we’re likely to go to jail over it. It just don’t figure.”
Red couldn’t disagree. “Boys, I’m sorry to get you into this. You can walk away and I won’t hold it against you. This literally fell into my lap and I’m going ahead with my plans with or without you. Normally, I’d give you an order and I’d expect you to carry it out without question.
Tarzan smiled and said, “Just thinking out loud, Red. Whatever you decide, you know I’m with you.”
Red raised his hands to stop the banter between the men. He had more that he wanted to say. “We’re going to take care of this guy Reynolds and we’re going to stop the coup that’s about to take place in New York. If we’re lucky, no one will know that we were involved, except Marilyn and maybe Bobby and Reynolds.”
Joey Bones raised his hand. “Won’t the shit hit the fan once the president finds out that we’ve got a tape with them planning to kill Nixon?”
“The way I want to handle this is to do this without Nixon knowing anything about the threat to him until it’s over and if we’re lucky, maybe not even then. At least that’s the way I’d like it to work out.”
Shooter added his thoughts. “You know, Red, it seems that I’ve been following more people, grabbing more people, and shooting more people in the last year than all the years I’ve been with you.”
Red burst out laughing. “Yeah. It does seem that way, doesn’t it?”
CHAPTER 18
Swifty was doing a remarkable job at the studio. He was like a jumping jack, jumping from shooting a scene, to studying his lines, and in his spare moments, he worked out at the studio gym keeping himself in shape for his next fight; the big one: the fight for the championship. His body never looked better. On screen, he was a sure bet to make the young girls swoon. Off screen, he pushed himself harder than he ever did in preparing for a fight. He was a man driven. He was driven because he wanted the Middleweight title more than he ever wanted anything in his life. He’d rather be awarded a championship belt than an Oscar for best performance in a movie. When his workday ended, he still had the Nixon girls to worry about, but to alleviate that he did a masterful job of convincing Moose that they were Moose’s responsibility and not his. Swifty parked his new Cadillac convertible in the driveway and when he opened the front door to his home, he bumped into Moose, who was by the door when it opened. Swifty stopped a moment as the delicious aroma of cooking assaulted his senses. “Hey. What’s cooking? What’s that delicious aroma I’m smelling?”
Moose smiled. “Maria cooked a roast lamb with Brussels sprouts and Maria, who’s Italian, had me taste one of the Sicilian potatoes I asked her to cook for you to make sure it wasn’t al dente. I know you’re Sicilian, so I asked her to show me how she makes them. This way I can make them for you when we’re in New York.”
“Moose,” Swifty said. “Red has a gourmet chef working for him at the Starlight Club who could make Sicilian-style potatoes for me anytime I want them.”
“Yeah, I guess, but it’s still good for me to know how to make them because hers came out great, if I say so myself. And she made salad with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, anchovies, and lots of other good stuff.”
The men sat at the table while Maria served the food. Swifty looked at her and said, “When you finish serving the food, Maria, I want you to sit at the table and join us in the meal.”
“But, Mr. Swifty, the help doesn’t sit at the table with the master of the house. It’s just not the proper thing to do.” Maria appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties. She had dark, curly hair, which Swifty assumed covered a litt
le grey hidden under it. She was on the portly side, but still had a figure that caused men’s heads to turn. But the feature that stood out the most was her smiling face. She was a very pleasant person who always had a special smile for everyone in the house.
“The hell with protocol,” he said. “I don’t want to see you eat in the kitchen. It’s like you don’t belong here. Maria, we’re just regular guys. We’re nothing special.”
She raised her eyebrows and looked surprised. “That’s not true. You are a famous movie star, Mr. Swifty. You are someone very special.”
Swifty shook his head. “Maria, a few years ago, I was a bum fighting to make a few bucks to party with. I lived from day to day and I didn’t care about anything but a good time. I had no future and was going nowhere fast.”
“So how you become so famous so fast?” she asked.
“I have a good friend who cared about me. He saved me from myself. Anyway, that’s not important. What is important is that we’re all friends here and friends always share a meal together and that includes you, Maria. So even if it’s for this one meal, I want you to sit down at the table and enjoy the wonderful dinner you cooked for us.”
