Richard laughed.
“The junk is collateral but you know I make more money out of the conversations here. For those kinds of deal I need backup - and some of that support is Italian.”
“Thanks for your honesty.”
“No problem. Just telling you how it is.”
“And will we get the same response from everyone else we approach?”
“Pretty much. Anyone who can afford frontage here is tied to our Italian cousins. There may be an independent operator in Vegas but you won’t find them anywhere near the strip.”
“And they’ll be small potatoes?”
“Yep. They could work your few hundred but nothing else. You'll need an outfit without East Coast connections for that much action.”
Frank and Mary Lou looked at each other.
“And once we leave, are you going to mention this conversation to your connections?”
“Not planning on it. This is a deal that didn't happen.”
“Is there no order to report our whereabouts then?”
“Of course, but I operate on the basis of trust. How could anyone trust me if every time someone entered my shop they wound up dead? That’d be bad for business.”
“No bounty on our heads then?”
“You’re not Bonnie and Clyde.”
Mary Lou laughed out loud and the two men turned to her.
“Sorry.”
“No harm done.”
“I won't lie to you. Tomorrow, I'll make a call and let a person know you came visiting. But I'm in no hurry because the percentage isn't big enough for me to want to rush and rat you out.”
“Honor among thieves.”
“I'm no thief. I offer cash in exchange for clear repayment terms.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Takes one to know one.”
They all shook hands and Richard led them back into the shop. As they headed for the door, Frank stopped to check out some gold jewelry.
“This for sale?”
He indicated a tray in the display.
“Yes but not with your money. I won't be able to spend it.”
Frank nodded and walked away.
“What are you interested in?”
He pointed at the item and Mary Lou smiled.
“You got any real notes on you? The sort you can spend without the cops coming down like flies on shit?”
Frank put his hands in his pants pocket and drew out half the notes from his wallet. Richard took a dollar bill and Frank pocketed the goods.
“Must be your lucky day.”
“Much appreciate your generosity.”
“I hope you get where you’re going before our Italian friends catch up with you.”
Out the pawnbrokers and right down Charleston until they went right onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Two blocks away ran a line of casinos. As they approached, the number of people on the sidewalk increased until they slowed to a crawl by the time they reached the Sahara, the Thunderbird and the Riviera at the end.
“Where’s your locker key?”
Mary Lou had one and Frank the other - if they caught either of them, the other still had a quarter of a million to play with.
“In my panties. I figured if I'm stopped no-one’s gonna frisk me down there.”
“You are one sexy smart cookie.”
Beat.
“Do you think Richard kept his word?”
“Would you, babe?”
“No, I’d take the money.”
“You and me both.”
“Better keep an eye out.”
“Like never before.”
They held hands and judged the expression of every single face that passed them on the street.
23
“WE NEED TO find an independent operator, wouldn't you say?”
“Yes, hon’.”
Frank led them left onto Desert Inn Road and right to Paradise Valley. With a golf course on the right and the Convention Center on the left, they both looked out for anything like a pawnbroker without mob connections. Neither had any clue how to recognize one, but they stared anyway.
In the hinterland beyond the back of the Sands lay a row of shops which bled into the desert ahead. There was a market, a gunsmith and a pawnbroker.
“What you reckon?”
“Only way to find out is to go inside.”
“Yes, babe.”
“But what if it’s not safe? Then what?”
“Okay. I’ll pop in and browse to check it out.”
Mary Lou stood there and lit a cigarette to pass the time until Frank returned two minutes later.
“Well?”
“Can’t say. There are no Italian accents if that’s what you mean. But I have no idea.”
“Better give it a wide berth.”
“Yep.”
As they carried on walking down the street, Mary Lou kept deciding every man she sauntered past was a gangster. No matter what they looked like, she couldn't shake the memory of that train journey from her head. Greased-back hair and a three piece dark suit: this was the uniform of old-school New York organized crime.
Frank was no better. He saw the same men and asked the same question: is this guy connected? He had no way of telling the answer by looking. Then he considered the possibility the mob weren’t walking towards them, but were behind them instead.
He forced Mary Lou to duck into a shop window to give an opportunity to check who was walking a block away. Just a bunch of people minding their own business.
“They know what we look like, don’t they babe?”
“Yeah. Is it time for a change of appearance?“
“Fresh hair color for both of us and a cut for you. New clothes and see what happens.”
“A new hair cut for you too?”
Frank stared at her and ran his fingers through his locks.
“I could shave it all off but there’s only one way to brush this mop.”
He had a point. His average hair length was about half an inch.
“Turning you bald will make you stand out more than ever. Are you going blond?”
“Dunno. What color do you want to go to?”
“Jet black with a bob. It’s all the rage.”
Frank nodded like he knew what she was talking about and they carried on until they reached a pharmacy to buy hair dye and a pair of scissors. They continued on their journey to find an elusive Shylock without mob connections.
An hour later, they had traveled to the far edge of town but found nobody to fit the description. Instead they circled around several times to evade potential mobsters although none appeared to be real. The one thing they could be certain was that if the outfit tracked them down, they’d know about it.
Back at the Mint, Mary Lou cut her hair while Frank watched inches of blond fall onto the floor. His Mary Lou was altering before his eyes and, no matter how disappointed he was feeling, she would hurt more. Women hold a different attitude to their looks than men, he noted.
Before she’d finished, Frank strode into the bathroom and ruined some hotel towels with his hair dye: from brown to a yellow blond in less than an hour. Mary Lou joined him and blacked out what was left of her hair. With the bottles of chemicals spent, she turned to the mirror and stared at herself. She appeared so different, but the bob suited her, even though it looked so jarring right now.
Frank glanced at his reflection as a final check he hadn't missed anywhere but he didn't care either way. What was important to him was surviving their time in Vegas and laundering the take.
“What are we going to do? We’re still stuck with the dirty money.”
“I've got an idea about that we can try tonight.”
“Oh?”
“But first I should check if you did a good job on your hair.”
“What do you mean?”
Mary Lou headed straight back to the mirror in the bathroom and could see nothing wrong. Frank followed her in and stood behind her. She watched his arms wrap around her torso and his hands land
on her breasts.
“I need to check whether the carpet matches the drapes.”
He pushed his fingers under her skirt and panties until a shiver ran up her spine from her crotch to her neck. Mary Lou pulled out his hand and led him to the bedroom, giggling.
THEY WOKE IN the middle of the afternoon, Mary Lou first by the noise of her stomach rumbling. For a second she wondered what her head was doing at the foot of the bed. She remembered and smiled. Stretched her arms and legs, almost kicking Frank in the face. The covers were on the floor and she grabbed a corner and threw it over them.
He opened an eye and hugged her ankles, then he licked her calves and carried on working his way up her body, stopping near her rose, until his head took over her entire field of vision. She felt the warmth of his crotch on hers and relaxed into the tenderness of the moment.
“Wait one minute.”
Frank leapt off her and Mary Lou frowned - she’d been enjoying what he was up to and could see no reason to stop. The day was a wash out, but they sure had fun in the evening, a brief respite from the horrors of their situation.
He bounded back and knelt in between her legs, forcing her knees apart. Frank placed one hand on a thigh, stroking it occasionally but his other formed a fist, tightly clutching something.
“We’ve been together a long time, right?”
“Sure, Frank.”
Mary Lou couldn't help letting her mind wander as he spoke because of the tingles he was generating with his palm and her thigh.
“Through thick and thin.”
“Oh yes.”
He realized his fingers were getting too much attention, so he removed them from her, damp as they were.
“No, listen.”
“Ow, all right.”
She chuckled and placed both her hands on his dick.
“No, stop it, Mary Lou. I've got something serious I want to say.”
She relented and lay there, listening. The last time Frank was this focused he had told her about the bank robbery and his plans for California.
“You’ve been there for me - even when I was inside. And I hope you think I've been there for you too.”
“You have, hon’.”
Mary Lou remembered how supportive he had been when his uncle had laid hands on her. She gritted her teeth and relaxed them again as Frank’s words soothed her.
“And I may not have always done the right thing, but I have always tried.”
“I know Frank. We work well together - and you fit so well inside me.”
Another giggle.
“There is that. But more to the point, there’s one thing I have never said to you: I love you. And I do.”
He was right. She’d spoken it to him but Frank always found a way to not respond in kind. To be fair, when Mary Lou said it she didn't always mean it. But sometimes it’s the right thing to say - like when a guy has fucked you so much you can barely breathe. Memories of Miami floated into her head and she smiled inside.
“And I love you, hon’.”
“We’ve never been as close as we are now. Here in a cheap Las Vegas hotel room, I feel we’re inseparable, you and me.”
Mary Lou beckoned for him to kiss her and then he sat back up.
“So, if we are inseparable, we should do something about it.”
“Like what?”
He unclenched his fist to reveal a gold ring and Mary Lou's eyes widened.
“Mary Lou Belle: will you marry me?”
“Francis Lagotti. Yes I will.”
She uttered those words without thinking. Without having to. He was the only man ever to consider such a thing. Every other guy wanted to fuck her and walk away. No-one else cared about her. Not even Carter. She realized he was just a lonely man swimming in seas he didn't understand.
But married. How crazy was that? If anyone would make her happy, it was the man sat with his dick dangling in front of her face right here and right now.
Frank tried to put the band on her finger but it was too large. Instead, he bent down to kiss her and Mary Lou wrapped her legs around his body. She didn't let go until all the tingles ceased running up and down her spine many minutes later.
FRANK GLANCED AT his watch and placed three fingers on Mary Lou's cheek. She smiled but kept her eyelids shut. He stroked her skin and then stopped.
“Aw. I was enjoying that.”
“As much as I’d like my hand to go wandering again, if we haul ass now, there's enough time to get a license before the place shuts.”
Mary Lou's eyes opened and she grabbed his fingers and put them in her mouth for a second.
“What’re we doing here? Let’s go!”
She leapt out of bed and threw on some clothes - the ones left lying on the floor were easiest to find. Frank did the same. Four minutes later they were walking down the strip to reach the Marriage License Bureau before five. They had twenty minutes.
One fast walk along Fremont from their hotel and a brisk right three blocks south took them to the Bureau. Two couples were ahead of them and they waited on line.
With ten minutes to go, Frank and Mary Lou sat opposite a Clark County official who read them their legal obligations and duties while they provided various bits of information as requested. While they were walking over, they agreed to use their real names so the marriage wouldn't be some sham affair. By the time the County had filed the paperwork and made it available for public view, they’d be long gone out the state. They completed and signed the forms using the guy’s fountain pen. The ink flowed smoothly onto the administrative pieces of paper.
“Congratulations. Now you have a year to get yourselves married anywhere in the state. You can find a chapel or there is always the Office of Civil Marriages.”
His eyes narrowed, with disapproval showing across his face. They thanked him for his help and left clutching their license.
“You want a chapel, babe?”
“Chapel? Hell no. God turned his back on me when I was fifteen and I’ve no need to go looking for his approval for anything that I do, sonofabitch.”
“Fine by me. God’s done nothing for me. And if he has, I'm damned if I noticed.”
They kissed and sauntered back to the Mint, all the time keeping an eye out for the mob, the Feds and Frankie’s boys.
WEDNESDAY JUNE 25
24
THE OFFICE OF Civil Marriages was around the corner from the License Bureau and contained all the charm of a municipal building. High ceilings offered a cathedral quality to the place but you couldn't mistake the smell of musty paperwork and old files. If someone threw a match in the wrong direction, the whole place would go up in flames.
Mary Lou stood at the entrance and looked up at the vaulted ceiling.
“Hold my hand: I feel tiny.”
Frank did as he was bid and they sauntered inside. He couldn't help but notice the security guard at the door and scoped out the reception area for police and other armed government officials but a squeeze from Mary Lou reminded him why they were there.
One brief enquiry with a woman at a counter sent them in the right direction down a corridor. At the far end were a series of benches and several couples sat waiting. Each time a couple returned, everyone shuffled forwards until Frank and Mary Lou were next in line, in front of a never-ending slithering snake.
The betrothed talked to each other about where they’d come from, honeymoons and how they met in the first place. Frank and Mary Lou tried not to engage with them because every person they spoke to was another possible rat. Suddenly Mary Lou turned to the girl sat next to her.
“Will you be our witness? We’ve been in such a hurry, we forgot to ask one of our friends to come along.”
“Sure thing, if you’ll return the favor.”
“Happy to.”
Frank scowled, but Mary Lou leaned in to him and whispered:
“You need a witness, hon’ otherwise it’s not official.”
Mary Lou was so wrapped in her own thoughts, th
is was the first time she looked around to see what everyone was doing. With disappointment, she noticed she was the only one not wearing a wedding dress.
“Frank. My outfit: all the girls are in their Sunday best. And what have I got?”
Frank saw her eyes redden.
“It’s not your clothes that count. It’s what’s in your heart that matters, babe.”
He was right, of course, and she smiled and wiped the dampness off her left cheek.
The door opened and a happy couple appeared. Now it was their turn. Rows of chairs lined the room; a desk stood at the far end, a chair and an official sat upon the latter.
“Come in.”
The man behind the desk beckoned them nearer and Mary Lou, Frank and their witness scurried toward the distant figure.
“This won’t take long - and don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Frank held Mary Lou's hand and the girl stood to one side. Chuck got up and walked round to stand with the two of them.
A marriage ceremony is the verbalization of a contract between willing parties and once you’ve stripped out all the guff about God and worship, you’re left with a simple proposition: do you take - and so on. Once Chuck covered all the legal bases, he pronounced them man and wife.
"You may kiss the bride."
The girl smiled and gave them a brief ripple of applause. Everyone with a writing hand signed paperwork and Chuck ushered them out the room. They turned round immediately to witness Trudy’s nuptials.
Stood outside the Office of Civil Marriages, Trudy and her new husband William asked them if they’d like to go to a bar to celebrate but Mary Lou and Frank declined.
“We’re heading out of town this afternoon. Off on our honeymoon straight away.”
“Ooh, where?”
“Hawaii.”
“Sounds wonderful. We’re staying in Vegas and then head to San Francisco tomorrow.”
Frank shook hands and Mary Lou kissed Trudy. Then they walked in whatever direction was the opposite to their newfound friends.
“Let’s hole up at the Mint, babe. The longer we’re on the street, the worse it is for us.”
The Lagotti Family Series Page 36
