by Joe Corso
Also by Joe Corso
The Revenge of John W.
The Old Man And The King
The Time Portal
The Starlight Club Series
Lone Jack Kid Series
The Comeback
Lafitte’s Treasure
Flames of Fury Series
The Starlight Club ll
By Joe Corso
The Starlight Club ll
Joe Corso
PUBLISHED BY CORSO BOOKS
www.blackhorsepublishing.com
Printed in the United States of America
The Starlight Club ll is printed in Times New Roman
All Rights Reserved
Black Horse Publishing
www.blackhorsepublishing.com
© 2012 by Joe Corso
ISBN: 978-0-578-11004-2
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination, or if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.
All Rights Reserved
I wish to thank my friend Joe Callarota for his help with certain chapters and characters. To Joe D’Albert Jr. for his artistic help - and a special thanks to my editor Sherry Thomas of Breathless Video Productions, LLC.
The Starlight Club ll
prologue
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
chapter fourteen
chapter fifteen
chapter sixteen
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
chapter nineteen
chapter twenty
chapter twenty-one
chapter twenty-two
chapter twenty-three
chapter twenty-four
chapter twenty-five
chapter twenty-six
chapter twenty-seven
chapter twenty-eight
chapter twenty-nine
chapter thirty
chapter thirty-one
chapter thirty-two
Epilogue
prologue
Present
From the comfortable leather recliner, Bobby Valentine sat relaxing, watching Fox News. He liked here it here in Darien, Connecticut. He was fighting hard to keep from dozing off but midday slumber won the battle until the sound of clanging dishes shook him from his reverie. He lifted his head to see what the fuss was all about and was pleasantly surprised to see his daughter, Lynn, standing over him holding a tray of doughnuts and a cup of steaming espresso.
“I know how much you enjoy your espresso, Dad, so I made a fresh pot for you.” She sat down opposite him, was quiet for a moment and said, “Dad?”
“Yes?”
“The other day when you told me the story of the Starlight Club, it was so interesting that I dreamt about it. I keep thinking about it, so then I thought to myself that there must be other stories, more stories that you could share with me. So, tell me some more about the Starlight Club. I want to hear it.”
With slightly sad eyes, he looked at her and said, “When I told you about the Starlight Club the other night, it was a bit painful for me. That’s why I never mentioned it before. But strangely enough, as I was recalling these memories, my emotions just seem to pour out, more like flood out,” he laughed, “and I guess it was cleansing in a way. So the short answer is yes, I feel like I can share a bit more without it bothering me as much as it did before. Telling you about it must have purged all that sadness I had locked up inside. Alright, let me think for a moment.” Bobby was silent for a few seconds and then he said, “Well, let’s see. It's true there was a lot more that I didn’t mention . . . so where do I start? When Jimmy the Hat died, everything seemed to die with him, and for a long time the club really wasn’t the same.”
“What do you mean Dad?”
“Well, I’m not sure I can tell the story in the spirit it deserves, but let’s see now. Big Red took an interest in Swifty’s career and that by itself is worth tellin’ because it’s a wonderful story. Then there were Trenchie and Mary. They sure loved each other –kind of a strange relationship if you ask me. I still continued to deliver meat to the club, but one of the things I was disappointed in was that Red’s Wednesday horse race operation ended for some reason shortly after Jimmy’s death, and I never did find out why. I learned why Trenchie did ten years for a murder he didn’t commit and that’s another story. Then, there was the problem Bernstein had with some blackmailers in Hollywood and he had no one to turn to for help except Big Red. Red had the Queens action so well–organized that it could practically run itself. He always harbored a secret desire to expand his operation to Hollywood and he intended for Jimmy to be his ticket into the film business, but when Jimmy the Hat died, he lost that opportunity. Oh but Red was shrewd and he figured out another way of gettin’ into the movie business and that, too is another story. So, where do I start? Okay, let’s start with Swifty’s story if that’s all right with you.”
“Okay,” his daughter said as her face lit up. “I’m just so happy to have this afternoon free to be with you. So . . . you just start wherever you like.” Lynn was delighted. This part of her father’s life was still a mystery to her.
“You see, when Red gave me the money that Jimmy had left me in his estate, I invested some of it in the butcher store I worked for. The owner was lookin’ to retire and he made it real easy for me to buy him out. So, I became the owner of Four States Meat and Poultry Supply Corp and I hired a driver to deliver the wholesale orders the same as I did, but I kept the account at the Starlight Club for myself. Each day, I stopped by the club on my way home whether it was to deliver meat or just to say hello to the guys. So, it was no coincidence that I was there one particular afternoon when Swifty came to see Red. He was between boxin’ fights. Swifty always owed Red money and Red always told him that he had to work it off by doin’ odd jobs. But it really wasn’t so much the money that Red was concerned with. He cared about Swifty. He didn’t want him to end up like other guys who had a lot of potential but just wasted it on fast, hard–livin’, so Red took him under his wing. I don’t think Swifty knew what Red’s true motive was, at least not at first.
chapter one
1962
Swifty sat nervously in front of Red’s desk, tapping his fingers, one at a time on the side of his chair, fidgeting uncomfortably while he waited for Red to come talk to him. Red was pissed off about somethin’ – that much he was sure of – and the wondering made him nervous. He was probably thinkin’ that it was pay up day for all the money he owed Red.
So here he was, back at the club, and Swifty is nervous as hell just waitin’. What Swifty didn’t know was that Red had attended his fight on Saturday night. Red didn’t want Swifty to know he was there. He had bought seats in the bleachers – a section of seats they were called ‘in Sunnyside Gardens.’ Besides, Red could see better up there anyway. It was a six round bout and Red admired the tenacity and f
erociousness of Swifty, the young neighborhood fighter. When the bout ended, Red shook his head and left before Johnny Addie announced Swifty as the winner.
Red came in carrying a spreadsheet. He sat down at his desk and just kept starin’ at that spreadsheet. Finally, he put it aside and looked at Swifty.
"Swifty, I’m calling in my marker,” he said. “You’re gonna pay me the money you owe me, but not for the reasons you think.” Swifty looked like somebody dropped a bomb on him. He was scared half to death.
“Look, Red,” he said. “I know I owe you money but I ain’t never stiffed you yet and you know it, so why do you want it now so bad?"
Big Red’s eyebrows went up and he snapped, “Swift, it’s not about the money, you knucklehead. It’s about you. I’m pissed off and you’re sittin’ there lookin’ at me wonderin’ why I’m pissed off . . . right?” Swifty hung his head low, just starin’ at his shoelaces.
Red went on. “Well, I’m gonna tell you why.” Swifty braced for the worst. He had no clue what was comin’.
“It’s because you’re nothin’ but a lazy, good-for-nothin’ bum! You’re wastin’ your life away and someday you’re gonna die in an alley and guess what? Nobody’s gonna give two shits about you! That’s why I’m pissed off. Is that what you want? Do you want to end up like that?” Swifty didn’t say a word. He just sat there and then he started makin’ excuses.
Red cut him off. “Well I’m not gonna let that happen. I’ve decided that you're fightin’ for me from now on. In fact, I scheduled a fight in two weeks. Two weeks! Ya have two weeks to get in shape!” Swifty’s face changed from white, to a faint smile, back to ‘oh shit - what just hit me?’ See, he didn’t mind fightin’ but until now, he had only fought when he needed money. Now, it sounded like a job, a real job.
He could barely manage his words. “Who am I fightin’?" he asked. “A Latin fighter,” Red said. “A guy by the name of Henri Valesques." Swifty's eyes got huge. I swear you couldn’t see nothin’ but white.
“Hey, that guy’s good,” he said. “We fought on the same card a couple of times and I watched him fight. What? Ya start me out this way? What the hell Red?”
"I know,” Red chimed in. “That's why we want you guys to fight. You’re both undefeated. You both have similar records. The matchmakers at Sunnyside Gardens want this fight to happen. You have a perfect 20 and 0 record and he has a perfect 19 and 0 record. That should bring the crowds in.”
Swifty smiled at Red and said, "Since you're makin’ my fight decisions for me, I take it that you've spoken to Ray and discussed my contract."
"Yeah, I talked to Ray,” Red stated, waving his hand as if to dismiss such a ridiculous comment. “I made him an offer and he accepted it. He sold me your contract and . . . he’s agreed to stay on as your cut man. He knows that with him managing you, you’ll never get anywhere, but with me managing you, you will, and you’ll make all of us a pile of dough. You're a good fighter Swifty. You could be a champ someday, but you're lazy, damn lazy. You’ve been wastin’ your talent. We’re only given talent for so long. Then we grow old and things don’t work right anymore. When your talent’s gone, you got nothin’ because you have no skills, no education. Since all you know how to do is fight, I'm gonna make sure that you get somethin’ out of fightin’ and more important, I’ll see to it that money gets socked away for your retirement one day.”
Swifty looked at Red questioningly. "Why do you care Red? You don't owe me nothin’, so why are you takin’ this interest in me? Why me?"
Red thought a moment. “I told ya. I see a kid like you wastin’ your life away and I feel bad about it. You don't have much goin’ for you except your good looks and your fightin’ skills. I made up my mind that I’m not gonna see that potential go down the drain. If I don’t take control of you, then all you’ll do is fritter your youth away on bullshit. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. You're fightin’ for me from now on. I can keep an eye on ‘ya. I care about this community. I want role models for these kids around here. Guess I’m gettin’ old and sappy but I just can’t stand waste. This community deserves better. Oh, and another thing – when you’re not trainin’ or fightin’, you’ll be workin’ for me here at the club too, so I expect you here by nine o’clock on weekdays, every weekday, capiche?”
Swifty wasn’t lazy when it came to his training. He loved to train. He always trained hard and he was always in good shape, but after bein’ told that he was fightin’ Valesques, he trained especially hard. He knew this guy was the slickest fighter he’d ever go up against. This was goin’ to be a real test for him. It could be the toughest fight of his short boxing career.
On the night of the Valesques fight, Trenchie, Tarzan and Moose sat at ringside, while Red stayed in Swifty's corner alongside Ray O'Connell, Swifty's trainer and ex-manager and now cut man. This fight was originally slated as a six rounder, but the matchmakers at Sunnyside Gardens changed that. Even though this was an undercard fight, this was the one folks would come out to see. An eight round fight would please the fans.
Both undefeated fighters breezed through their earlier fights. The fights were all four and six round bouts – fighting chumps that were no contest – easy pocket money. The Swifty Cardinelli–Henri Valesques fight, however, was the big one. It could be a tipping point in both their careers. This could very well be a step up for either of the young men. Valesques was known for his cat–like jab and devastating left hook which he normally followed with a hard right. Swifty was known for his ability to knock a man out with either hand. He knew that in order to win this fight he had to stay away from his opponent’s left hook, yet still be close enough to land his punches. Swifty was the harder puncher, but Valesques was the classier, more graceful boxer.
Johnny Addie, the ring announcer, introduced both of the fighters. He stated their records, tellin’ the audience that both fighters were unbeaten. Swifty nervously shuffled from foot to foot waitin’ for the fight to start. In the other corner, on the opposite side of the ring, Valesques was seated, looking completely relaxed. That didn’t go unnoticed by Swifty.
“Will you look at that guy? He looks like he’s gonna fall asleep on his stool,” he said to Red.
“Don’t worry about him,” Red told him. “Just go out there and do what you do best. Knock this guy out and let’s go home early,” he added as he smacked him on the back.
The bell rang for the start of the fight and the boxers shuffled to the center of the ring, cautiously circling one another, tryin’ to get a feel for the other guy. For the first two rounds, they jabbed, danced, parried and blocked punches, tryin’ to figure out their opponent’s style. The fight ebbed and flowed, first to one fighter, then to the other. Suddenly out of nowhere, Swifty emerged with a look on his face that meant business. He savagely landed a series of devastating lefts and rights that momentarily stunned the Latin fighter. Man oh man, the fury of Swifty’s punches brought the crowd to their feet. But as soon as Swifty completed his ferocious combinations, Valesques responded in kind, but not so kind, with two hard, left hooks of his own and landed his own vicious right. It was a grueling, tough eight rounds of fightin’ with neither fighter seemingly gaining a noticeable advantage over the other and when the fight ended, ring announcer Johnny Addie announced the judges’ decision . . . a draw. This was a first for either man. Remember, they were both completely undefeated but with a draw decision, both fighters still remained undefeated. The combatants, uh fighters, congratulated each other before leavin’ the ring and goin’ their separate ways. I don’t think either of them knew what to feel but you can bet that each left with a grudging respect for the other’s fightin’ ability. The following mornin’, Red got on the phone and scheduled two eight round tune–up fights for Swifty so he could get used to fightin’ the extra rounds. Red’s plan didn’t quite work the way it was supposed to ‘cuz Swifty won the two fights easily, with knockouts in the fourth and fifth rounds. They never made it to the full eight.
The
return match was another eight round bout. It turned out to be a carbon copy of the first fight, up to and including, the decision of the judges. The score cards were handed to Johnny Addie who paused a moment to read them. Satisfied with what he read, he reached for the microphone and in his distinctive high-pitched voice announced the decision of the judges. Another draw. The two fighters were still unbeaten. The local papers were eatin’ this competition up. It wasn’t like this was a Jake LaMotta–Ray Robinson fight. It was a relatively minor, let’s say, local fight – but it was a fight that everyone in Queens wanted to see. The promoters at Sunnyside Gardens knew that the fans were clamoring for a third, decisive fight. They knew they would have another sellout crowd if they could get the two fighters to agree to just one more fight. The matchmakers decided that if they could make it happen, it would be a ten round bout – a first for both fighters. It was a question of if. Both fighters couldn’t really see the point of havin’ another fight until it was pointed out that a ten round, main event fight meant a much larger payday for each of ‘em. The money won out and both fighters once again signed on. Swifty’s record was now 27 and 0 with two draws.
Swifty used the time leadin’ up to the fight to train the way he did when he trained with Rocky Marciano. The Rock used to run in deep snow. He said the snow was good for his legs and it helped give him the endurance he needed to fight fifteen rounds. If you were fortunate enough to ever have seen a Rocky Marciano fight, he was amazin’, because at the end of fifteen rounds, he appeared to be as fresh as he was in the first round. Swifty believed that in order to beat Valesques, he had to use the same training methods Marciano used. So Swifty set up his training in the Pocono Mountains where he had access to deep snow and high ground. Slowly this fight was gainin’ attention by the national press and a few of the guys from the larger national papers joined Swifty in his training camp. Swifty, after all his fighting, didn’t have a scar on his face. He was good looking in a Jack Lemmon sort of way. You couldn’t compare him to Jimmy the Hat because he didn’t have that sexual magnetism that Jimmy had, but he was just as handsome. Swifty had a great smile and a personality to go along with it which was very appealing to the women. He attracted them in droves. The writers found the young fighter to be a respectful, amiable guy who didn’t look anything like a fighter. They wrote about it in their newspapers. Red liked the attention the press was giving Swifty. He knew that sometime in the future these same reporters could make a difference when Swifty went after a championship belt.