The Starlight Club 2: The Contenders: Goodfellas, Mob Guys & Hitmen (Starlight Club Mystery Mob)

by Joe Corso

  “Yeah,” Piss Clam answered. “Stand next to him and don’t move. Shooter can you handle both of these guys? I need to make a quick call to Red. I want to tell him what we found out.”

  “Don’t worry about these two,” Shooter replied.

  Piss Clam dialed Bernstein’s private line. Bernstein picked up right away thinking it was Red. “Larry, it’s Piss Clam. Put Red on.”

  “Red’s not here,” Bernstein said. “He’s gone to find Bob Gray.”

  Piss Clam spoke quickly. “If he calls you, tell him to drop everything and get over to John’s house as soon as he can. Tell him I have good news and it’s important.”

  chapter twenty-one

  Red, Trenchie and Tarzan parked across the street from the Imperial 400 Motel. It was on Fifth Street in a seedy area of San Bernardino. Trenchie and Tarzan waited in the lobby as Red talked to the desk clerk.

  “I’m supposed to meet Bob Gray, one of your guests, but I’m a little early. What room is he in?” The desk clerk looked offended.

  “What kind of an establishment do you think we run here?” the clerk answered. “We never give out our guests’ room numbers . . . never! You’ll need to wait until he gets here.” Red calmly reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He placed the bill down on the counter in front of the clerk.

  “I understand what you’re saying,” Red answered, “and I’m impressed with your dedication to the rules and regulations of your hotel and normally, I wouldn’t think to ask you to do anything like this, but you see, this is very important to me.” And with that, he tapped a c-note twice on the desk as if to make a statement. “It’s very important to me,” Red continued as he slid the money closer to him. “I can see that you’re a reasonable man and I would hope that you would understand and make an exception this one time.” The desk clerk stared at the bill lying on the counter in front of him. This fella only earned sixty–five dollars a week and he was now staring at a week and a half’s pay. It didn’t take much convincing. He scooped up the bill and put it into his pocket, trying very hard not to let anyone see him do it.

  “Sir,” he said. “I didn’t understand the importance of this meeting. It is the policy of this establishment to assure the total satisfaction of our customers and we strive to follow our company’s policy to make sure every customer leaves here happy. Mr. Gray is in room one twenty–five. Out the door and make a left. His room is on the ground floor facing the parking lot.”

  “Oh and one more thing,” Red added. “Has he been ordering from room service?”

  “Why yes,” the clerk answered. “He has ordered a few times.”

  Red thanked him and motioned for his guys to follow him. They walked along the long cement sidewalk in front of the rooms facing the parking lot.

  “Here it is, room one twenty–five,” Trenchie said. There was a car parked outside the room. Tarzan checked the number on the bumper and it matched the room. There was no peephole on the door so Red knocked loudly.

  “Who is it?” a voice asked from inside the room.

  “Desk clerk sir. I forgot to get a signature for room service. It’ll just take a minute, all I need is a signature and I’ll be gone.”

  “Okay, hold on a minute while I grab my pants.” The door opened and a surprised Robert Gray stood staring at armed men standing in his doorway, and while he didn’t recognize any of them, he had a feeling that he was in a whole world of hurt.

  “Who are you guys?”

  Tarzan smiled and said, “We’re your worst nightmare, that’s who we are and if you don’t tell us what we want to know in the next few seconds, we’ll be your worst nightmare to the second power.” Gray was visibly shaken.

  “Whatta you wanna know?” Gray asked as he tried to remain calm.

  “Who are you working for?” Red asked.

  “Sal Migliore.”

  “We know Sal, but he’s dead now and so are the three guys who were with him.” Gray was shocked and he looked at Red with almost some sign of relief.

  “How? Who killed him?”

  “Sal and his three men kidnapped Trenchie here and worked him over,” Red said pointing at Trenchie. It was as if Gray noticed him standing there for the first time. Trenchie’s face was bruised and cut and looked like it had been hit with a sledge hammer, but in spite of the bruises, he was still an imposing presence. Gray knew just by looking at him. He was big, he was very angry, and his eyes bored into Gray’s eyes, unflinchingly, forcing Gray to look away from him and back to Red who continued talking.

  “As I was saying, your pal Sal and his boys were about to hurt my buddy here so he was forced to hurt them first.” Gray was silent for a moment.

  He then asked, “You mean . . . this man . . . he killed all four of them, by himself?”

  “That’s right,” Red answered as he nodded his head.

  Gray was now skeptical. “Those men were stone killers and you want me to believe he killed all four of ‘em without any help?”

  “Well, I don’t want you to believe anything. You can think what you want, but this man here has some bruises to show for it and those other guys, well they’re worse off than bruises. Now tell me how many of your men are still in California?”

  Gray replied a little testily, “Hey wait a minute. What men? Those aren’t my men. I only told Magardi that I had information on some of Bernstein’s stars. He’s the one that decided to use it against him to take control of the company.”

  “Why do they want control of Columbia pictures?” Red fired back.

  “The Detroit mob is looking to expand. They want a foothold in either Vegas or Hollywood and with my information and their muscle, they decided it would be in Hollywood.” Red seemed confused by this information.

  “Wait a minute. Hold on there. John Magardi sends men to Queens and tries to take over some of my establishments. Then he sends men to intimidate John Morgenstein, then he sends other men to harass Larry Bernstein? I could see them going’ after Bernstein and Morgenstein, but why me?”

  “Magardi knows that Bernstein has a powerful friend in Queens. He watched your buddy Jimmy the Hat become a big Hollywood star. When Magardi ordered a union rep to have one of the Bernstein stars killed, you stepped in and put the fear of God into that big–mouthed union guy. So . . . he was forced to put his movie studio ambitions on the back burner until he dealt with you.”

  “Why didn’t he just have me whacked and get it over with instead of takin’ such an amateurish move by makin’ it look as if he was tryin’ to take over a few of my places?” Gray was more relaxed now as he answered Red’s questions.

  “He was testing you. He wanted to see how you reacted when you found out that a few of your places were being taken over.” Red shook his head.

  “Tryin’ to take over Trenchie’s business was a huge mistake. And goin’ after the Zebra Club was another. I don’t own that club – a friend of mine does, but he’s under my protection. Maybe that move was also a test to see how I would or wouldn’t react.”

  “That’s exactly what it was,” Gray agreed. “Detroit was about to make their move into Hollywood, but you were their big obstacle. He knew he had to get rid you.”

  “I’ll ask the question again. Why didn’t he just send a couple of men to Queens and have ‘em take me out?”

  “I don’t think he really wanted you dead. That might be too risky. He just wanted to shove you around a bit, maybe invite you at some point, to come over to his side – I don’t know, form an alliance or something.”

  “That don’t make a bit of sense to me,” Red said. “No Gray, you’re wrong. There’s somethin’ else goin’ on here that even you don’t know about. Either that or you’re hidin’ somethin’ from me. Which is it Gray? Are you keepin’ somethin’ from me?” Red scolded as he tilted his chin down a bit and squinted his eyes as if sending a message.

  “I’m telling you the truth. I’m telling you what I know,” Gray swiftly replied.

 
“The only thing that makes sense to me,” Red said, “is that he knew I was Bernstein’s protection so . . . he had to lure me into a trap, try to get rid of me. He tried doing that by havin’ his men pretend to move in on me. Now that scenario is the only one that makes sense to me. How about you guys? Does what I just spelled out make sense or do you have another theory to offer me?” No one answered. “Then let’s go with the supposition that Magardi had to get me out of the way so there would be no opposition to his takin’ control of Columbia Pictures.”

  Gray shook his head and said to Red, “There’s another reason why Magardi didn’t want you killed.”

  “What would that be?” Red asked.

  “He was afraid the council would find out he was the one who had you killed and they would take action against him. So he tried to take you out of the picture, but not by killing you.”

  Red thought about what Gray had just said. “Yeah. He couldn’t start another gang war so soon right after the Gallo–Profaci war because the council wouldn’t stand for it, and he certainly wouldn’t want to answer to the council as to why he had me killed, so he’s between a rock and a hard place. So the only thing he could do is lure me somewhere and take me out quietly, try to make it where no one would know he was the one behind my disappearance. Well that makes sense and it answers that question for me. Now here’s another question for you. Where’s the evidence you said you have? Did you give it to anyone to hold for you? Magardi maybe?”

  Gray shook his head. “He doesn’t have it. If I gave it to him, he wouldn’t need me any longer and I wouldn’t get a dime out of him, so I stored it someplace safe, somewhere only I know about.” Red smiled.

  “So you still have it?” Gray nodded again, this time in the affirmative.

  “Yes I still have them.”

  Red clapped his hands. “Okay then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get it.” Gray looked a bit disturbed by this. His one last shot at making a big payday was about to go up in a puff of smoke. Red picked up the telephone on the desk beside Gray’s motel bed and dialed Bernstein. He wanted to check his messages before heading out.

  “Red,” Bernstein said immediately, “Piss Clam called and said to call him right away. He said he’s got good news for you. Told me to tell you to get over to Morgentein’s house right away.”

  “Ok, I’ll call Shooter as soon as I hang up.”

  “Wait a minute Red. Did you find Bob Gray?”

  “Yeah, we found him. He’s been cooperative and we’re just about ready to leave his motel to get that information that’s so valuable. I don’t wanna say too much over the phone. I’ll fill you in when I get back. Just stay close to the phone and keep me posted in case one of the boys calls you.” Bernstein gave a palpable sigh of relief. He was clearly happy to hear that the blackmail goods were about to be retrieved. “Don’t worry Larry. Everything’s under control,” Red said as he placed down the phone.

  On the way over to LAX airport, Bob Gray tried to bargain with Red. “Look Red, I want your word that when I turn over my information to you, you’ll let me go. I thought I was safe with the Detroit mob backing me but I was wrong. When your friend James Roman broke my knee, I was sure my friends would deal with him, especially when Roman threatened me. When nothing happened to him, I knew Roman had been right when he told me emphatically that I didn’t know who I was dealing with. I know that I made a terrible mistake. James Roman made me a cripple and all I could think about was getting back at him for doing this to me.”

  Red nodded and asked him, “And you didn’t think you deserved what you got when you tried to blackmail Lana Thompson?”

  “No, I didn’t think I deserved what he did to me, not then. It was after Magardi got involved that I knew I was in way over my head, but by then I was trapped by my own stupidity. I couldn’t get out. I had to go along with whatever they were planning. I just kept hoping that I could somehow get out of it all. Look, I’ll give you what you want and I’ll disappear. You’ll never see or hear from me again. Deal?” Red was silent a moment. So was everyone else, meaning Tarzan and Trenchie.

  “Look Gray,” Red answered, “you’ve cooperated and did as we asked so I’ll let you go, but not right away. I have to take care of a few loose ends but . . . if what you’re tellin’ me is true and leads us to the goods, then you have my word that you won’t be harmed.” Red then pointed his finger at him and added, “But if I ever see or hear from you again, then all bets are off. I’ll see to it that you’re cut you into little pieces and fed to the dogs. Understand?” Bob Gray’s face matched his name – he was as ashen as day old embers in a fireplace. He was terrified of these men, yet Red had just said that he wouldn’t be harmed. Gray had no idea what to believe.

  The men arrived at the airport. Gray led them into a room that was part of some special Captain’s lounge. As agreed, he emptied the contents of a secluded box, inside a locker, and handed them over to Red. Red then ordered everyone back into the car.

  chapter twenty-two

  Shooter met Red and the boys at the door and led them through the house, down into the basement. When the two hostages in the basement saw Bob Gray, they knew that if Red’s guys didn’t kill them that Magardi would surely order it. Red complimented his two men for the job they had done protecting Mrs. Morgenstein and rounding up the two Detroit gunmen. Shooter told Red what the two men had told them. Red, in turn, briefed the boys on the information that Bob Gray had relayed. With everything out in the open, Red began to form a plan.

  “Call your friends,” Red ordered as he handed Gray the phone. “Tell ‘em you’re at Morgenstein’s home with Aby and Fred. Tell ‘em to write down this address.” Gray called the men as Red had instructed. Red nudged him and said, “Tell ‘em that you’ll fill ‘em in when they get here.”

  “Take down this address,” Gray said. “Yeah, I’ll fill you in when you boys get here.” Gray hung up the phone. He looked like a defeated man. “I’m a dead man,” he said to Red. “The first moment they find out I talked, I’m a dead man.”

  “Nah,” Red jumped in. “These two bums talked first. They spilled the beans and told us all about the move Magardi was makin’ – tryin’ to take over Columbia Pictures, so if he’s gonna kill anyone, he’ll kill those guys first.”

  Gray slowly exhaled. “I hope you’re right, but you don’t know John Magardi. The guy’s a mad man, crazy for power. You should have seen the look on his face when he thought Columbia Pictures could be his for the taking – like a rabid dog, frothing at the mouth.”

  “Tell me somethin’,” Red continued. “What are you in his organization? How come you can count on their support? You told Jimmy the Hat when you tried to shake down Lana Thomas that he didn’t know who he was dealin’ with. So, you had support even back then, didn’t you? So why are they not backin’ you?”

  Gray was sitting at the kitchen table with his face in his hands, looking every bit the distressed man. “Well, I don’t have that protection any longer,” he said as his voice trailed off. Red was confused.

  “Why not? You had it then, why don’t you have it now?”

  “My protection,” Gray said slowly, “was my brother-in-law. He was a capo in the Detroit mob. He was Sal Migliore,”

  “Holy shit!” Trenchie shouted out. Red’s eyes shot from Gray to Trenchie back to Gray as his lips mouthed, “Ohhh.”

  “Yep, one of the guys your friend Trenchie here killed in the warehouse today. That’s why I’m sure that Magardi will have me whacked . . . because I don’t have Sal standing between him and me anymore. If he’s lost his chance at Columbia, he’ll be on a rampage. He’ll come after you for sure – you can book on that.” Just then the doorbell chimed. Someone was at the front door.

  “Go, answer the door,” Red told Gray. “If it’s your buddies, invite ‘em in and we’ll take it from there.” Gray opened the door and there stood two of Magardi’s men. “Come on in,” Gray said. Seconds later, Piss Clam and Shooter had their guns trained on th
em. The men, taken by surprise, offered no resistance. They, too, were herded down into the cellar. There, sitting in the middle of the room, they saw two chairs, with two men, bound with duct tape.

  Red wasted no time. “Piss Clam, go get two more chairs from the kitchen for our new guests here. This little party is growin’.” Shooter kept his gun aimed high while Piss Clam strapped the men to the chairs with thick rope and duct tape like the other two. Red gave his usual instructions – just answer the questions and not get hurt. Lie and be painfully crippled.

  “Okay, let’s start with your names,” Red began. “You first,” he said pointing to a smaller, older man sitting in the chair to the left of his partner.

  “Teddy,” the man said.

  “And you?” he asked the younger guy sitting next to him.

  “Dominic,” the young man answered.” And the line of questioning continued.

  “Are there any more guys with you that we don’t know about?” Dominic shook his head. “No, this is all of us that are left.”

  “What were you supposed to do next?” Red asked.

  The young man decided to cooperate. “John told us not to come back until you were dead. That was our assignment . . . to kill you. I didn’t like it, especially when I heard what happened to the other men, but what were we supposed to do? We had our orders and we were trying to figure out a way to carry them out when Bob called. His call was like a little reprieve to us. We were hoping that they had captured you because that would have taken the pressure off us. What would you do if you were in our position? You expect your men to follow orders don’t you?” Red was silent. He knew the answer to this. It was a good question.

  “Well, so does John,” the young guy continued. “What else do you want to know?” Red thought for a moment.

  “Let’s assume you had killed us, then what were you supposed to do with us?”

  “We had orders to kill your men but hold you until John got down here. He didn’t forget what you did to the men he sent to Queens. He wants to kill you personally. I told you he’s crazy.”