Despite his preoccupation with her breasts, Frank stood up five thousand dollars better off and gave her a purple chip as a tip which he dropped in between her tits. He cashed in his winnings and left the joint.
The next morning, Harvey Knight took Frank‘s call wondering which precinct he‘d be heading to shortly.
“No, it‘s nothing like that. I want your advice on buying a casino.”
“Is this booze talking, or worse?”
“No man. I‘m deadly serious. I‘ve found a place in Atlantic City but I need your help to buy it. Can we meet up and talk things through?”
“That where you're based now?”
“Will be but nowadays I have business interests in Boston. If we pull this off, I‘ll move over here for sure.”
“Can you get to my office for tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yep.”
“See you then. Stay on the line and my secretary will finalize the details.”
“DOES MARY LOU know what you‘re up to?”
“Not right now but I wanted to be better informed before I speak to her.”
“Good decision. Tell me what you expect out of the deal and then we can work out the best route to get you there.”
Frank explained his idea to run the place but to own the joint too because that‘s where the real money was made. He didn‘t want a salary - he wanted income with capital growth. Harvey listened and sipped his coffee. This boy impressed him and was so much more of a man since they last met.
“Thing is, I’ll need my name on the gaming license, but my past doesn‘t make me first choice, does it?”
“You are right. If the owners want to sell and you agree terms, the gaming license could prove sticky. But you are also correct in thinking your mother can help. When you speak with her, remind her that it‘ll be worth dropping a dime to Teddy.”
“Who?”
“Teddy. You don‘t need to know any more about him at this point.”
“And financing? I‘ve got some scratch but it won‘t be enough.”
“How much?”
“Low seven figures.”
“Congratulations. Last time we met, you didn‘t have a cent to call your own and I‘d have bet on you floating down the Hudson before the month was out.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Don‘t take it the wrong way. You‘ve done well. That‘s a positive and I‘m recognizing that in you. If you were still the same mook cracking heads in five-star hotels then you wouldn‘t be in this room today.”
Frank nodded and thought how far he had come since then.
“If you think it‘ll help, why don‘t we phone Mary Lou now so she can tell you‘re serious.”
“How does the call do that?”
“My meter‘s been running the minute you sat down in this office. The cost of a long distance call is the least of your worries.”
Harvey beamed at him because the joke was very much on him - but it was a good joke at his expense and one he could afford.
“Hi Mary Lou. How‘s tricks?”
Beat.
“You will never guess who I‘ve got in my office...”
AFTER FRANK BROUGHT along three members of his crew, the owners of the Lucky Nugget decided staying alive was a higher priority than owning the casino. They chose to exit their family business as quickly as they could so he bought the joint for next to nothing. Teddy Prescott pressed some flesh and the gaming license was safe when the Gaming Board met.
“Nice guy, Teddy.”
“Yeah. You should have a beer with him sometime.”
Frank couldn‘t tell if Bobby was serious, but he didn‘t care because the place was his. First order of business was to hire some watchers to keep an eye on the tables. With security sorted out, he set about being creative with the second floor.
The previous owners tried to attract wealthier individuals with limited success. The place wasn‘t upmarket enough for real high rollers and it suffered from being a block from the boardwalk where the serious action happened.
Frank understood what johns wanted in life: to bet a little, drink a little and to chase tail a lot - or as much as they could get away with if they were married. The Lucky Nugget would deliver all that an American male in AC could afford.
He was also sufficiently self-aware to understand the last person to run the joint on a day-to-day basis was him. He hated paperwork and was still learning how to keep people onside. His small team in Boston was one thing but a hundred or more in AC? You gotta be kidding. Leonida Acerbi came highly recommended by Mama who had hired him to manage the Lady Fortune four years ago.
“Personal circumstances prevented him from staying with us longer, but he was a great guy. Kept everyone in line. Motivated the dealers to keep the johns playing. Good fella all round.”
“What circumstances? Spill. If he‘s going to work for me I need to know all about him.”
“He left Vegas in a hurry. For reasons I never understood, Leonida started a relationship with the daughter of the Las Vegas sheriff.”
“Straight out of a Roy Rogers movie.”
“Don‘t get cute. The old man found out and wasn‘t happy about the situation. The next day when I heard, I didn‘t crack open the champagne either. Sheriff Redneck only found out anything because his fair maiden confessed she was pregnant and Leonida skipped the state line the same afternoon.”
“Wow.”
“Turns out the reason she told her pop was because she couldn’t figure out whose it was. She‘d been spreading her legs for several different guys all at the same time.”
“And you still trust Leonida?”
“His judgment with women is flawed, but he knows casinos. And he didn‘t spill a single word about our operations to the girl.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“First, we had no trouble afterwards. Second, we interrogated him when we caught up with him the following week.”
NATURALLY LEONIDA WAS worth his weight in gold and drove the Lucky Nugget into a healthy profit within weeks of his arrival. Frank offered him one piece of advice before he started.
“Keep your dick to yourself. Do not go chasing ass in AC without checking out her family history first, you get me?”
“You don‘t have to worry about that. I‘m a changed man - I got married to a stripper and get plenty of action at home, thank you.”
Frank chose not to apply the same rule to his own sexual encounters. A pile of lap dancers within easy reach was too much of a temptation for him. Once the club was running well - and it only took four weeks from launch, he spent an unhealthy amount of time on the second floor. The way he saw it: he was paying the girls to show their tits and asses anyway, so he might as well enjoy the product.
After two nights, he decided that watching was for chumps and he bought a few hours with some of the prettier skanks. He saw how desperate they were for green and that they‘d agree to anything he suggested if the price was right. He‘d get them stoned to within a wisp of consciousness and then fuck them any which way he could conceive.
“Frank, leave the girls alone.”
“I pay them. I tip them. The Nugget gets its fair share of the take.”
“Let‘s leave aside the fact you‘re getting high on your own supply of women.”
“Nicely put.”
“Once you‘ve spat them out, the girls are in such a bad state, it takes them a day or two to recover - and during that time they‘re not earning. I hate to say this to you, but...”
Beat. Frank gritted his jaw.
“... you‘re pissing on your own porch and you must stop.”
Leonida paused and let his words sink in. This could put his job - or even his life - in jeopardy, but the consequences of saying nothing were worse. If Mary Lou found out he‘d not tried to stop Frank sabotaging his own joint, she would issue the hit on him there and then. No questions asked.
“Why not take a break from the Nugget and spend time in Boston? I‘ll look after
everything here while you build up your business interests there. Or remind yourself what educated ass tastes like. When you come back, you can play on the first floor again.”
“But not on the second?”
“No, Frank. We were making a lot of money there until you paid your way through all the girls. To be honest, most of them will leave if we‘re not careful and word on the street is that someone‘ll die soon the way you treat them. I‘m not judging, but I am trying to run your business.”
Frank shook Leonida by the hand and gave him a brief hug.
“Thank you - for your honesty. Takes a brave man to say what you did.”
“Just looking out for your best interests.”
“I respect that. Book me a flight to Boston tomorrow. Looks like AC needs a break from me.”
14
SOME WOULD SAY they had an idyllic life together. Mary Lou and Bobby split their time between home in Palm Springs and the hustle of the Palace in the crumbling facade known as Sunset Boulevard. It was like the inhabitants of Los Angeles had watched the film and lived its dream.
“I don‘t know what Alice was complaining about. This apartment is lovely.”
“Until you step outside. Then you‘re surrounded by all the girls from Partytown USA.”
“We might be married but you‘re telling me you have a problem going down an elevator with a bunch of drugged-up semi-naked hookers?”
“Me? No. I‘ve always admired the female form in all its glorious varieties.”
Bobby leaned over in bed and kissed Mary Lou on the cheek while stroking the tattooed rose beneath her navel.
“Just Alice isn‘t a middle-aged guy. She might have a different perspective.”
“Kids of today: ungrateful. Pure and simple. When I was her age, I lived in a two-room apartment the size of a nickel. And was happy to be with a man who could afford the rent.”
“Well, she‘s not with someone and was brought up in much better circumstances.”
“I know but...”
The thought ebbed away as Bobby‘s hand left her stomach and went to find some other fun. A giggle and two deep sighs from Mary Lou showed it had succeeded.
NEXT DAY IN the summerhouse, they talked about business and the difficult trading conditions.
“Trouble is: the days of receiving protection from the mob have long since passed. I can‘t remember when we saw Pasquale or Fabio last.”
“I heard they retired to Florida.”
“No kidding. I thought both would die in California.”
“Maybe they will, but they‘re enjoying games of penuchle with their old comrades in arms. Miami-Dade County is where capos go to rest.”
“I‘ve still got one or two more projects before I hang up my hat.”
“You‘ve got plenty of successful years in you yet.”
“Tell me about it. Right now, I‘m finding new ideas hard to come by - Alice will save our bacon.”
“And without a mob behind us, every muchacho for miles comes biting at our ankles.”
“They don‘t play by the rules either. Instead of taking out a street dealer, they whack the boss. What kind of way is that to live?”
“If the rats and cockroaches don‘t get you then your own fellas will. The Feds have been far too good at getting stool pigeons to blab.”
“And once they start, you can only stop them with a bullet.”
“Sometimes I wonder why we bother having a house phone.”
“You can never have a conversation on it in case the FBI has it tapped.”
“Worthless piece of junk.”
Mary Lou was right to be cautious. Too many fellas who‘d built up worthwhile operations served life sentences thanks to the testimony of those they thought they could trust. The Feds had turned underlings against capos and capos against bosses.
While she and Bobby had never risen through the ranks - they were so far from thoroughbred Italian - they had created a sizeable organization. Not having to pay their tithe helped the bank balance, but they spent considerably more than ten per cent on security for their empire.
Without the safety net of the mob, finding a reliable partner was hard. Ventures popped up and fell apart all too easily as mistrust or deceit revealed itself. Narcotics was fraught with danger.
Drugs had been the most profitable part of the business for years, but was populated with the most unstable and untrustworthy characters. This meant pieces of the jigsaw would break apart with a moment‘s notice as someone was taken in for questioning or got plain greedy. Mary Lou and Bobby spent a disproportionate amount of their time keeping all those plates juggling in the air. It was tiring and they both knew they were too old for that caper.
In Mary Lou‘s head, Frank was the perfect guy to manage the narcotics operations, but she needed to wait for him to grow up more before she could let him take over the reins. On the other hand, Alice had the temperament to do well with all the other parts of the business. She had every faith Bobby and Alice would run things very well. Gambling, prostitution and their other rackets would thrive under her stewardship.
But Mary Lou wasn‘t ready to give up and head over to Boca Raton just yet. Knowing the lottery gig was going to succeed was the first step and figuring out how to replace narcotics revenue with something safer was the second. After that, she‘d have to see. Besides, she didn‘t want to hand over a doomed business to Frank. Perhaps he could make it thrive. He had street smarts and had a better idea than Alice of how the ordinary Joe thinks.
BACK IN THE Palace, Mary Lou and Bobby took advantage of what the city offered. They took in a show and dined in some of the most pretentious restaurants on the west coast. The money continued to roll in and Frank‘s call about the Lucky Nugget made Mary Lou think her son was finally growing up. Even Bobby had to admit the guy was something.
“I‘m surprised to hear myself say this, but the boy has done right by you for once. He‘s actually given you some of your money back.”
“Half of our money.”
“And not only does he look like paying the rest but he‘s got sufficient surplus to fund the purchase of his own casino.”
“Wonders will never cease.”
“And some. I bet it‘ll put Alice‘s nose out of joint.”
“I haven‘t told her yet. She needs to have total focus on the lottery gig. That‘s big news for us too.”
“For sure. More states’ll legalize gambling because they are desperate for money. What Alice is doing in California, we can replicate across the country. Frank opening up an opium line on the east coast is our first narcotics venture on the Eastern Seaboard. Your children are something else.”
Mary Lou grinned from ear to ear.
“I know. I‘m very proud of them.”
Then she burrowed under the sheets until Bobby‘s breathing became deep and rhythmic.
MONROE LINWOOD WEIGHED on Mary Lou‘s mind. While she was pleased with the way Alice handled herself at the situation they‘d got to within a few hours of a knock on the door and a troop of Feds tipping hats and thrusting a search warrant in her hand. Too close for comfort.
There was only one thing to do: a top-to-bottom security check on everyone in the organization. And no exceptions. They‘d begin with narcotics, the weakest area, and move on to prostitution later. Mary Lou sent Bobby on the road to interview anyone peddling, manufacturing or managing the various operations along the Californian coast.
Nothing. Their call girl rings were a mix of high-class hookers in a place like the Palace through to much cheaper options for the working man, who‘d rub their tits for twenty bucks and the promise of a shot of tequila.
The locations were diverse and diffuse. In LA, the model created on Sunset Boulevard was replicated although renting apartments in a cheap condo served a cost-effective means of delivering the girls to the johns. This required someone to run each apartment or an entire block for those with the right skill set.
Bobby began in the Palace because he had a
soft bed to sleep in overnight. As he expected, everyone was clean. When he moved away from the confines of Beverly Hills, the story changed. He found apartments run by a dude called Coby Ingham.
They hadn‘t met before and Coby had a self possession Bobby hadn‘t come across for quite some time. Almost like the guy felt protected by an unseen hand and wasn‘t the least bit bothered about his line of questions. If that hand was cloaked in an FBI leather glove then they were in trouble.
Bobby called Naldo as he was round the corner looking after Alice. Within an hour, Coby was bundled into the rear of a van and taken to a special location out in the desert. A person could scream until their lungs burst out their mouths, but no-one would hear them call. This place was remote as hell.
By the time Bobby and Mary Lou arrived on the scene, Naldo had the guy tied up with electrical tape - wrists and ankles - with a hood over his head. The shack was replete with shelving attached to two of the walls. On the shelves were the full gamut of DIY tools that looked as though an electrician, carpenter and plumber had stowed away all the equipment they might ever need.
When the couple walked in, Naldo nodded at them and pointed at the hooded figure in the middle of the room. His wobbly chair only added to the sense of foreboding Coby felt. Mary Lou grabbed a stool and positioned herself in the far corner so she could observe proceedings. Bobby dragged a small wooden table and stopped when he‘d placed it in front of Coby. He sat down opposite him and gave a hand gesture for Naldo to remove the hood.
As soon as the material was off his head, Coby blinked four or five times and tried to get the measure of the room. Before he had time to focus on any individual, Bobby slammed his fist down on the table to attract Coby‘s attention. He was startled and gave a little jump. Other than that, he stayed cool.
“How long you been running the girls in your apartment block?”
Mama’s Gone Page 8
