Stood in one of these boudoirs, Mary Lou wondered why he had bothered. He smiled and led her to a clock hanging on the wall.
“Look right in the center of the dial.”
His finger pointed to a black piece of glass. She was none the wiser, so Bobby took her out of the room and into the corridor.
“Notice anything different from when we were first here?”
“The cockroaches are gone?”
“Yes, but there‘s something else: the rooms are smaller. Look.”
He took her from one room to the next, dragging her first to one wall and then off to the adjoining surface in the next chamber. Eventually, she saw it.
“Why have you thickened the walls?”
“To make a hidden corridor. That way we can move around the place without being seen.”
“And what‘s that got to do with the clocks?”
“We‘ve hooked up a cine-camera for each room.”
Mary Lou smiled, but let Bobby carry on his explanation.
“We‘re getting the famous or the nearly famous in our orbit. But in a while, the powerful and the influential will want a piece of our action. Then we might find it useful to have an edge if you see what I mean.”
SENATOR TEDDY PRESCOTT enjoyed the high life and the various perks offered him as a representative of the Californian people. He split his time between Washington and Los Angeles. Like so many Americans, movie stars were magical superheroes to him and he grabbed every opportunity to mix in their circles.
As a Republican, he fought a hard campaign on a pro-guns and anti-tax ticket. The right to bear arms against the British without paying for the privilege proved irresistible to voters and he won by a wide margin. This was back in 1970 when Sharon Tate's killers were still unknown and Vietnam continued to rage.
With a beautiful blond wife and two extraordinary children, the Prescotts were a wholesome group, projecting the family values electors liked to see. Five months after they opened the Palace, Milton called Bobby around six in the morning with news about Senator Prescott.
“We have a situation and need you to deal.”
“Can it wait a couple of hours?”
“No. You better come over as soon as you've got your pants on.”
“Understood.”
BOBBY STOOD AT the fisheye lens staring in at the room. He watched and waited, with Milton hovering next to him. After three minutes doing nothing, he stepped out of the hidden corridor and entered the scene of the crime.
“Hello Teddy.”
The senator sat on the edge of the bed, a towel covering his lap. Milton made sure no-one had offered him any clothes to wear. Best to keep him feeling exposed and vulnerable until Bobby arrived.
“Can you remember what happened here?”
His hand indicated the bloody mess lying on the floor on the other side of the bed.
“We were fooling around and everything was fine. I don't...”
Bobby walked round and picked up a beer bottle, holding it upside down, so red dripped off the neck and onto the wooden flooring.
“Looks like you were partying quite hard.”
Prescott's eyes glanced at the bottle and tears welled up inside him. Bobby placed the object between Prescott's feet so he couldn't avoid its reality. The blood followed its natural course downwards and dribbled over the whole surface of the glass and onto the floorboards.
Then Bobby returned to the body and knelt down to study it more closely. The girl lay face up, arms by her ears. Bruises around her neck, shoulders and head. And a tremendous amount of scarlet over her groin. There was no way to tell if she'd been unconscious when she died or if she'd struggled against the monster until the end. All her clothes were strewn over the floor and Teddy's were folded neatly on a pile on a chair. Bobby noticed the mirror and razor blade on the bedside table, but there were almost no crumbs of powder visible.
“She's in quite a mess, Teddy. She disrespect you?”
“No, not at all. Lizzie was a wonderful girl.”
”Then what went wrong?”
Prescott looked up at Bobby with a quizzical expression. A shrug and more tears.
“You have nothing to worry about. I am here because I want to help you.”
“Thank you.”
“We will tidy up this room first after you've gone. It'll be like she never was here. That you were never in her bed and that you two were never together.”
Teddy's body juddered as he turned his head to glance at Lizzie one more time. The towel on his lap fell to the ground and Bobby walked away. Once he'd closed the door behind him, he instructed Milton to give him the film from the camera.
“What do you want me to do with Teddy?”
“Set Prescott free and get Fabio's cleaner in as soon as possible.”
“Okay.”
“And next week, pay Teddy a visit and ask for a donation for the girl's funeral.”
“Funeral?”
“I want you to remind him of what happened and that we have not forgotten. There'll be no funeral. You know better than that. Dump her body in the desert.”
“She'd been with us from the start. Great piece of ass, popular with the guests and sure could get them to pay for snow.”
“Thanks for the eulogy.”
Beat.
“He needs to be out of here in the next thirty minutes. She needs to be gone by lunchtime. Discretion is key in these situations right?”
“You betcha. By the time the rest of the guests wake up, this will be just a bad memory for Teddy.”
“Damn straight. And sorry if I was grouchy when you called. Don't like being woken up in the middle of the night.”
“De nada. I figured some things are more important than sleep.”
“Say that again. What was Prescott doing, the fucked up whack job?”
“I've told you, Bobby: I don't judge. Some behavior goes on under this roof, you wouldn't believe. The depravity I've seen...”
“I can only imagine - and that's good enough for me. You keep the cine-reels, though?”
“Some of them might be sickos, but I'm not stupid. Of course I do.”
“Good man.”
BOBBY VISITED PRESCOTT at the family home a week before Thanksgiving. The place stood in vast private grounds in Malibu. Tailored lawns and adobe-style buildings. A butler answered the door and led him into the library. He settled into a brown leather chair and made himself comfortable.
When Teddy Prescott entered the room and saw Bobby lounging near his books, he almost popped a blood vessel.
“What are you doing here? Our business was finished a long time ago.”
He remained seated and beckoned for Teddy to join him. The man wasn't used to mortals acting this way in his own home.
“I'm pleased to see you again too, Teddy.”
Beat.
“From what I hear, you haven't fucked any underage girls with any bottles lately. Or hasn't word spread fast enough yet?”
Bobby removed an imaginary piece of fluff from his knee. Mainly to give the senator a minute to collect himself. Prescott slumped on a nearby stool.
“There was no need to send me the film of my actions. I regret what I did in a moment of... passion and I paid handsomely so the child could be taken care of properly.”
“Save the protestations for the voters. Or your wife.”
Teddy's eyes flitted at the closed library door and back to Bobby.
“I am not here to chat about the past. What's done is done and I'm not in the mood for nostalgia. Let's talk about our future.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are a powerful man, an honorable man. A man of influence - in California and other states like, say, Nevada.”
“So?“
“My wife and I are about to take over a casino in Las Vegas and we don't want any trouble from the Gaming Commission. You can help us.”
The blood drained from Prescott's face and he glanced at the door again.
; “Before we talk turkey, why don't you offer me a beer...”
1994
5
THE TWINS CAME home from their very separate schools and OJ Simpson stood trial for murdering his wife. While the latter fact consumed the nation, Mary Lou couldn‘t wait for her babies to return to the nest.
Bobby drove to collect Alice from Berkeley while Frank made his own way back from San Diego State. The boy only carried a suitcase and a backpack. She filled the car and trailer to the brim. Thanks to good packing by Bobby, there was just sufficient space left for two people to squeeze in between the boxes, bags and cases.
“What have you got in here?”
“My life.”
He nodded, shrugged and set off for Palm Springs. On arrival, Alice threw herself into Mary Lou‘s arms.
“Mama, so good to see you. I‘ve a thousand things to tell you about.”
“And it‘s great to have you back, but Frank‘s home too. Arrived an hour ago...”
Alice took her attention off her mother‘s face and glanced round the hallway. A case and backpack lay in a heap near the kitchen door. Her gaze floated into the living room until the sprawling mess of her brother filled her vision. He blinked acknowledgement in her general direction and she offered a half-smile in return.
Mama led her onto the family couch and continued to hold her hand while Frank carried on with his tales of school. The anecdotes were tedious and, at least twice, Alice reckoned he was making it up as he conjured up a mix of urban myths and other people‘s experiences. She couldn‘t bring herself to imagine him studying, going to lectures or doing anything which might involve effort. In her head, she‘d wondered how the hell he‘d graduated at all. At her darkest how, she even thought Mama had paid San Diego State to get him through at all.
At that same dark moment, a flush of pride filled Alice‘s heart because her degree had been earned through hard work, commitment and deep resolve. And it was a better school too.
She waited patiently until Frank ran out of steam. She knew Mama did not approve of interrupting her firstborn male child. Alice‘s four extra minutes on this planet counted for nothing.
All this time, Bobby sat silent in an easy chair. He‘d been a member of this family for over twenty years, but sometimes he didn‘t feel a part of it at all. This afternoon was one of those moments. Before Alice could get into the full swing of her story, Irma appeared from the kitchen with a tray piled high with coffee and cookies.
Even though she was only the housekeeper, she kept a special place in her heart for those two bundles of joy. Not that they hadn‘t caused their poor mother grief over the years, especially the boy. He was a tearaway when he was a teenager - not much better now, only he had more money to get himself out of trouble without Mrs. Lagotti having to step in and save his scrawny ass.
TWO DAYS LATER, Frank grabbed his things, kissed Mama on the forehead and told her he was off to New York for a while. Mary Lou offered to drive him to the airport but he declined.
“I don’t like long goodbyes and you’ll cry if you take me there.”
After the taxi whisked him away, his mom sobbed. Once her eyes had dried out, she walked through the conservatory and onto the patio. Alice was floating on a lilo in the middle of the pool, so Mary Lou sat on a sun lounger and watched her darling daughter soak in the rays.
“What are you going to do?”
“Lie here until dinner. Dunno.”
“That’s not what I meant. Frank’s just left.”
“He’ll be back.”
“For New York.”
“Oh. That boy sure has a mind of his own.”
“Am I going to lose you too?”
“You haven’t lost Frank. He just doesn’t know how to settle down anywhere.”
“And you?”
“I’d like to grab this summer if I can. The next time I have this much vacation will be when I retire.”
“Okay darling. You deserve that if nothing else. Then what?”
Alice slipped off her inflatable mattress and swam to the edge nearest to Mary Lou. Then she hauled herself out the pool and sat opposite Mama.
“I want to work with you and Bobby, of course.”
Mary Lou stiffened and shuffled on the lounger.
“What do you think we do - apart from making a few investments?”
Alice laughed and wrung the excess water from her below-the-shoulder length hair.
“Investments. Please? Frank and I aren’t stupid. All the discrete conversations in the summerhouse. The men in dark suits who go through this place like its their office. And Milton? Do you know what the kids at Montgomery High used to say about him?”
“Come with me.”
They strode past the pool and into the summerhouse where Bobby sat, working at the desk. He swung round at the noise of the door opening.
“Alice wants to work with us.”
“Do you have a résumé?”
“Be serious. And she says the kids have known about our business for years.”
“And what is it we do, Alice?”
“Heroin and cocaine mainly. At least that’s what you guys talked about most before I skipped off to Berkeley.”
Mary Lou stared at Bobby with gritted teeth and he looked right back at her.
“Are you a cop?”
“No. What makes you think I might be with law enforcement?”
“You’ll understand why later. You’re right, we started with narcotics but we used some of those profits to diversify into... other realms.”
“Such as?”
“Prostitution and gambling mainly.”
Alice whistled out of respect. She and Frank figured out the drug angle when they snuck up to the summerhouse and eavesdropped on the conversations going on inside the taboo building. But she hadn’t realized how busy they’d been while she had been away.
“Like I said: I want to help. I’m smart and I could help to drive the business forward.”
“You’ve been talking about having someone to assist with logistics. She could start there and we can see how she handles herself.”
Bobby nodded. He knew this wasn't a discussion. Mary Lou had decided and this conversation was informational only. He thought it a good idea, but his opinion was not sought. So he didn’t offer it. Alice always had a sensible head on her shoulders and was bright as a button. Frank would be a better choice to deal with a Mexican stand-off but he doubted if either had fired a gun in their lives. Mary Lou had wanted them to have a normal childhood and not get involved in their criminal ways. Something had changed her mind, clearly.
FRANK TOOK A limo from LaGuardia to a chichi hotel in SoHo. The decor comprised white walls and floors with every piece of furniture made of transparent plastic. He dropped a C-note on the concierge before he hopped up to his suite so he was guaranteed delivery of a girl and a snort or two of cocaine within an hour of tipping the bellboy.
Having fucked her twice, he got bored with the skirt and sent her packing - with a respectable gratuity because she’d been good while she lasted. That left the rest of the pile of coke for himself and he cut sufficient lines to keep him going until morning.
Once room service had delivered his breakfast, Frank called down to the concierge to arrange for more female companionship. The two hookers kept him amused for the entire afternoon but he got bored again. Up to some designer stores on Fifth Avenue and back to the hotel bar to see if his new threads attracted the right kind of woman: easy to impress with big tits and few opinions of her own. The bar was full of his target market because so many rich, dumb men with high libidos and few social skills inhabited these kinds of drinking holes.
With a credit card, which had never received a single payment from him, Frank soon found himself surrounded by adorable asses. The only question left in his mind was which one to pick for tonight. He felt like going clubbing and didn’t want to be let down by a girl with poor rhythm. He chuckled to himself when he realized when he brought her back t
o his suite he didn’t want her to have poor rhythm there either. Fuck-a-doodle-do.
The vintage champagne flowed and the chicks hovered around the rooster. Bubbly conversation continued into the evening as every now and again he popped into the washroom to take another hit of his snow. Each time he walked away from those short skirts, he risked some cock taking over his flock of fuckables.
As predictable as the rising sun, when next Frank returned he found some Latino hunk stood by his ice bucket entertaining his ladies. The guy didn’t yield an inch and carried on talking as though Frank wasn’t there.
“Hey, bud. You’re in the way of my champagne.”
“You can take it in a minute when I’ve finished telling my friends about what went down last week in the studio.”
“No-one wants to hear. Move on, buddy. I need to get to my drink.”
The ice bucket was on the bar and the bartender maintained a watchful eye on its contents - Frank looked after those who looked after Frank. The barkeep listened in to the conversation between the two men but said nothing. Just carried on cleaning the whiskey glass in his hand.
The Martini Bar in the Courtney Hotel was renowned for two things. First, as its name suggested, they mixed a mean martini. Second, all the waitresses in the bar wore the same uniform: a light gray one-piece cotton-and-lycra body suit which had long sleeves to cover the servers’ arms but no legs whatsoever. Every crevice of the women’s bodies were on view.
Just as he uttered his last words to encourage the Latino to step down, a waitress hustled by and the guy stopped paying attention to Frank and stared at the woman’s crotch. There was something about the shape of her thighs and roundness of her ass that made him want to see more. Big mistake.
Frank grabbed Julio’s hand that held his champagne glass and twisted it behind his back. This caused Julio to turn and face the bar and Frank seized the hair at the back of his head and push his skull down onto the bar. In one smooth action, the barkeeper snatched the ice bucket and its contents off the clear plastic surface a quarter of a second before Julio’s forehead smashed down on the unforgiving hardened material.
The Lagotti Family Series Page 67
