by Joe Corso
“What are your thoughts on what’s happening?” Bernstein asked.
“My thoughts? I’m glad these guys are on our side,” Morgenstein responded.
Larry added, “Trenchie killed four kidnappers all by himself. I would never have believed that one man could do that if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears. I should know better than to ever underestimate Red or his people.” Morgenstein nodded in agreement even though Red and this world were all new to him.
“What do you think Red will want from you when this is all over, Larry?” Morgenstein asked. He was no dummy. It didn’t take a Rhodes Scholar to figure that out. Bernstein didn’t hesitate.
“I dealt with Big Red when James Roman was alive,” Larry answered. “He took care of a union problem for me and never asked for anything. He had every right to ask me for a favor in return, yet he didn’t. This business that they’re helping us with now is huge so yes, they’ll probably ask for something, but Red is typically not real greedy, so whatever he asks for, it’ll most likely be reasonable.”
“I hope you’re right,” Morgenstein replied. “I hope you’re right. You just don’t find people sticking their necks out like this without a heavyweight IOU somewhere.”
“Red is head of a mafia family that has over a thousand soldiers in it,” Bernstein said, “and yet he’s handling this for me personally. Another thing you may not be aware of and that is Red is worth hundreds of millions of dollars so I don’t think money is what he’ll ask for.” The attorney shook his head almost in disbelief.
“Well now. I had a feeling he was powerful, in the street sense, but I had no idea he controlled that many men and I would certainly never have guessed his net worth. He’s not showy and he seems to care about his men. He’s managing those three kids, you know, the fighters. He confided in me that he worries about their future, that he wants them to have something when their fighting days are over. Said that was what motivated him to manage them.”
“What a movie that would make,” Bernstein said. “Hey, let me ask you a question. The fighter, the one you call Swifty, does his face look busted up or does he have some looks?” Morgenstein smiled.
“He looks a lot like Jack Lemmon. He’s a damn good looking boy for a fighter.”
Larry thought for a moment then said, “Don’t say anything to Red, but maybe we’ll give this kid a screen test when all this business is done with. I did all right with the first guy Red sent me, that James Roman kid. Who knows – maybe this kid has it in him also. You know, women love a rough edge on a man. We’ll just have to see if the camera loves him the same way.”
chapter nineteen
June and her friends had remained in their seats where they waited for the boys while they showered and got dressed. The three fighters walked to where they sat. June smiled and said, “I would like to introduce you gentlemen to my two girlfriends. This is Sarah,” and she pointed to the shorter of her two friends, a pretty blonde, blue–eyed girl with curves in all the right places, “and this is Loretta.” Loretta was about five eleven with auburn hair, dark sexy eyes, and long well–defined legs that seemed to go on forever. Loretta was known to be choosy about the men she went out with because when she wore heels, she usually towered over them. It made her uncomfortable. As she walked alongside Gonzo’s six feet four inch frame, she was enjoying the fact that she could look up to him.
The group decided to have lunch at the Empire Diner located on Tenth Avenue, at the corner of West Twenty–Second Street. June suggested that the easiest way to get there was to take the C or E train to the Twenty–Third Street Station and walk a block from there. It was a good decision as noon time traffic made it difficult to secure a cab. The two stop train ride only took about five minutes. The guys and gals left the dimly lit station and stepped out into the bright sunshine where the temperature hovered somewhere between seventy–five and seventy–seven degrees. A cool breeze from the East River enveloped them as the water flowed past on its way to meet the Hudson. The walk to the diner was pleasant and the girls seemed to know what they liked in men because the six individuals just effortlessly morphed into three distinct couples on the way there. It seemed that June’s girlfriends did in fact find the other two guys appealing.
At the diner, they shared a booth, girls sitting opposite the fighters. The fare was typical for that age – burgers, salads and beer. The conversation eventually turned to boxing and it was obvious that the girls were curious as to how the fighters planned their time. Sarah asked, “Do you have to come to the gym every day?”
“The short answer is yes,” answered Henri, since the question had been directed toward him. “We have only three weeks to get in shape for this fight, so yeah, we’d better be there most every day until the day of the fight.”
Gonzo chimed in, “We’ll probably take the day before the fight off, but Henri’s right. We only have three weeks to get in condition, so we can’t afford to get lazy or sidetracked.” The women’s faces all fell a bit. Sarah had another question and once again looked to Henri to answer. “Couldn’t you sneak away for a night?” she asked coyly, fluttering her lashes.
“No,” Henri answered quickly and in a most matter–of–fact manner.
“You mean you can’t take one night off to go out?” she pursued.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Swifty took this question. “Look girls. It’s not that we don’t want to do other things. We do but we just can’t and especially we can’t do things with women. Okay now, don’t take this wrong, but there’s an old sayin’ in the boxin’ world that if a fighter has sex with a woman it weakens him, it weakens his legs, and that small difference could mean winnin’ or losin’. Now, I am not sayin’ that any one of you will be havin’ sex with any one of us or with anyone else for that matter. I’m just explainin’ what can happen to a boxer’s determination and concentration and . . . physical strength. Each of us have fought for different reasons in the past – Henri to send his brother to a good school, Gonzo never really trained – he’s just a street brawler, always looking to make some money and then there’s me. I only fought when I needed somethin’. My new manager pegged me right. He said I had all the talent in the world, but that I was a lazy bum. I realize that now. He’s givin’ the three of us a chance to be great fighters, but we have to do what he says.” He pointed at Henri. “I fought Henri three times to a draw. I was a cocky kid thinkin’ I could beat anyone in my weight class, but I was wrong. Henri taught me that. He’s the greatest fighter I ever fought and now we’re fightin’ on the same team. Even Gonzo has some ambition now. He’s motivated to rise in the standings and make somethin’ of his life, so in answer to your question – we can’t break our trainin’ regimen even though we really would like to.”
The three girls looked sheepishly at each other. They were three little rich gals who were used to getting what they wanted. The guys they knew would pretty much drop everything to go on a date with any one of them. These three rather attractive men sitting before them were different from the others. It felt in a way like they were being rejected. Most of the men they knew had expectations of dinner and sex. It was almost as though the two were synonymous, yet here were these guys carefully avoiding the female race for fear of intimacy. What a reversal.
June had never met a man like Swifty. He was tough, yet tender, and handsome, with a body that looked as if Michelangelo carved it. June knew he wouldn’t stand for the nonsense she usually doled out. Sarah, too, was attracted to one of the boxers – the Latino Henri. She couldn’t wait to see him in the ring three weeks from now. The only fly in the ointment was her father. She wasn’t quite sure how to explain to her father that she had a crush on a fighter. Her father envisioned her marrying a doctor or lawyer – a Puerto Rican fighter would be a hard sell. Loretta had sorta’ liked Gonzo when she saw him with his head gear on that day, trading punches with a sparring partner, but what sealed the deal was when she saw how tall he was walking next to he
r. She didn’t care if he wasn’t handsome in the classical sense. His nose had been broken several times, but oddly, it seemed to add character to his face. She could never remember seeing a more perfectly formed body on a man. His face, even with the visible scar tissue around his eyes, seemed to light up when he smiled. Loretta loved his manly confidence. It made her feel safe. The next three weeks would be a long wait for the girls.
chapter twenty
The tall hedges hid the car that was parked near the entrance of the long driveway leading to the Morgenstein house. The three men had been watching the house for quite some time and had noticed two men come and go – men that didn’t match any of the photos and descriptions they’d been given.
“Who are those two guys and why weren’t we told about them?” one of the men in the car asked.
The other man replied, “I hear what you’re saying, but orders are orders. We were told to grab the wife and kids so let’s not question it. Do you wanna go back and tell the boss that two strange guys stopped us from doing our job? I know I don’t.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Well let’s go and get this over with.”
Two of the men left the car and hesitated by the gate for a moment, looking around to make sure they were alone. They walked quietly up the driveway until they were able to peek into a living room window while hiding behind a hedge. All they could see was a woman by the sink and a man sitting at the kitchen table. They couldn’t see where the other guy was, and didn’t know how many kids might be in the house. The men were told that Morgenstein had two daughters but they spotted only one – a young girl – another kink in the chain. Their job was to grab the wife for sure and the daughters, if possible. But these two guys were a problem. One of the men spoke up.
“Look Aby, if these two yokels give us a hard time, we just shoot ‘em, grab the women, and get the hell out of there. We gotta do this fast – in and out quick like. Okay?”
“Right,” the other answered. “Let’s do it.”
They moved toward the servants’ entrance of the large house. Aby removed a lock pick set from his pocket and in a matter of seconds, had the door unlocked. The men eased themselves into an entrance which was nothing more than a small foyer. It led to another door that gave them entry into the main portion of the house. From there, the two intruders tiptoed along the hallway that led to the kitchen and crept past it to the large living room.
Aby whispered to Fred, “She was in the kitchen with one of the men a few minutes ago, so let’s head to the kitchen and when we get there, let’s just open up on him and grab the woman before the other guy realizes what happened.”
“Okay,” Fred answered. “Let’s get the show on the road.” The two men moved quietly along hall, staying close to the wall. They raised their guns high into the air and stormed the kitchen but . . . no one was there. As they turned to make a hasty retreat, they found Shooter standing, about six feet in front of them, his gun trained right on Aby’s heart. At that moment, Piss Clam emerged from the other side of the wall and covered the man known as Fred. Lydia peered out from the living room. She had been hiding in a closet.
Shooter turned to Lydia and asked politely, “Would you escort us to your basement?”
“Why, yes of course,” Lydia answered, her voice trembling and her face as white as a ghost.
“Do you have a plastic drop cloth somewhere in the house or maybe in the garage?” Shooter continued.
“Yes, there’s one in the closet in the basement.” Shooter thanked her and asked if she would be so kind as to spread it out over the basement floor. She seemed confused.
“Why do you need it spread out?”
“Well Ma’am,” Shooter answered. “I wouldn’t wanna get any blood on your nice new rug now, would I?”
“Blood? What blood? I don’t understand?” Lydia stammered.
“Ma’am, just do it please,” he said slightly annoyed with this conversation. “I’m kinda’ busy right now and really don’t have time for this.” That jolted Lydia into action. “Of course. How silly of me,” she said as she rushed down the stairs in search of the drop cloth. She found it and did as she was told.
“It’s done,” she said.
Shooter looked at the two men and said, “Ok, let’s take a little walk downstairs and we’ll see what you have to say. Boys, I hope and pray that you have some good news for me. I don’t have a lot of patience and I’m just itchin’ to have some target practice.”
“Wait a minute,” Aby said. “I saw you and the Mrs. in the kitchen. How did you know we were in the house?”
“Morgenstein has a camera system. Red got it for him after he seen it in the Starlight Club – not even on the market yet,” Shooter stated. “He’s got cameras all over the place. Can see everything that’s happenin’ on his property. I saw you two jerks lookin’ straight into the camera talkin’ to each another when you were snoopin’ around the gate. Now would you rather tell me what I want to know up here or . . . down there?” he asked as he pointed to the stairs.
“What are you planning on?” Fred asked.
“Nothin’ much,” Shooter answered. “I’m gonna ask you a question and if you don’t answer it, I’m gonna shoot one of your kneecaps off. Then, I’m gonna ask you another question and if you don’t answer that one, or if I catch you lying to me, I’m gonna shoot off your other kneecap. And I’ll just keep shootin’ until there are no body parts left. Now what’s it gonna be?” Lydia stood rooted in her position at the front of the refrigerator with her hand to her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing and her mind was racing – these nice young men, were they capable of doing what he said he would do? Nah, she told herself – probably just a ploy to scare those guys. Lydia didn’t move from that spot. She watched as Piss Clam, Shooter and the two uninvited guests made their way down the steps into the basement area. Once there, Shooter started up with his questioning.
“Okay, here are the rules,” Shooter said. “I’m gonna ask each question one time and one time only. If you don’t answer, my little trigger happy finger will do its business. Now, who wants to talk first?” Aby looked at Fred and nodded slightly to indicate that they’d better cooperate.
Fred put up his hands and said. “Okay, ask and I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Who do you work for?” Shooter asked.
“Sal Migliore, capo in the John Magardi family out of Detroit.”
Shooter sarcastically shot back, “Well, you don’t work for Sal Migliore any longer . . . because we killed him this afternoon.” The men’s eyes widened as they looked at each other. Somehow, they believed him.
“But you’re doing real good so answer this question,” Shooter said. “Now why does Magardi want Mrs. Morgenstein?”
“For leverage,” Fred responded. “He has documents and film that could destroy four of Columbia pictures top stars, but he doesn’t want to use them if he doesn’t have to. He wants Bernstein and Morgenstein to turn control of Columbia Pictures over to him. He figured that if he strong armed them, that eventually they would give in. We weren’t going to hurt Mrs. Morgenstein. We were ordered to just snatch her and take her to our boss. We just figured that we’d get in fast, grab her, and you know . . . in and out fast.”
“Yeah, I know,” Shooter said as he nodded sarcastically. “In and out fast, with her as your hostage, and us dead on the floor. Wasn’t that the plan?” The two men’s eyes narrowed. They knew they’d been caught. They did not answer.
Shooter looked over at Mrs. Morgenstein and he asked, “Lydia do you have a pad and pen handy?” She left and returned a few seconds later.
“Here,” she said as she handed the items to Shooter. Shooter then handed them to Fred. “Write down the address where you were supposed to take her.” Fred hesitated a moment, but then picked up the pen and wrote on the pad. “How many guys are all of you total?” Shooter asked.
Fred replied, “If it’s true that you killed Sal and the three that were with
him, then there’s just us and two others left.”
“Is Bob Gray one of them?”
“No, he had to go to Detroit but he was coming back right away. He may be home now, but I’m not sure.”
“Do you have his phone number?” Fred nodded yes.
“Okay,” said Shooter. “I want you to call your two friends and tell them to get to the Morgenstein home right away. Tell them that you have everything under control. After you do that, call Gray and tell him the same thing.”
“I can’t do that,” Fred said. “What kind of mug do you think I am?”
Shooter continued, “If you don’t make the call, I’ll show you what kind of mug you’ll be – a crippled one, right after I put one right in the center of your knee.” Shooter pulled the hammer back on his Colt 45 and laid it on top of Fred’s kneecap. “I’m usually not this patient,” Shooter said, “so I’ll give you five seconds to make the call.”
. “Okay, okay I’ll make the call,” Fred relented.
Piss Clam whispered to Lydia, “Do you have a second line in the house?”
“Yes,” she answered. “In my husband’s office.”
“I want you to take me there in a minute.” He nudged Aby and told him to stand alongside his buddy Fred. Aby obeyed and inched closer to Fred.
“Is this where you want me?” Aby asked. He was a pitiful sight, acting like a little boy.