‘Some of my men have Russian “grunters”. The word from these girls is that Chernamenko wants to be top dog. He wants the Don’s empire. Bilyenko, Vitalev and Silverstein, are key players but Chernamenko and Bilyenko seem to be the brains. Vitalev and Silverstein are bruisers. We’ve been watching them since one this morning and on my last update, they were all still at home.’
Little Frankie Argolia’s phone rang. He got up and moved to the end of the room speaking quietly. The others waited.
Argolia returned to the table and said, ‘All four are on the move. Probably goin’ to Brunswick. They meet in Sydney Road at a joint called Rasputin’s. I just sent men out there.’
‘Good,’ said Pescaro, ‘back, front and inside Frankie, just observe, no action.’
Argolia walked away again to pass on the message.
‘What about you Eduardo? Anything to add?’
‘Yes Don Pescaro. Milo’s tick-tack on the Russians is right. As you know, the pricks have been leaning on some of our waste customers. Like you asked, I kept quiet. Apart from waste, my sources are the same as Milo’s: Russian prossys. They passed on whispers about a takeover. My blokes have been watching Silverstein and reporting to Giacomo Virgona. But before we act, I think we gotta see how they work; what they do, where they go. Teresa’s stuff is good, but we want juice right up to the minute.’
Teresa sat quietly and listened carefully. Pescaro’s motivation for pushing the Aldrittsons was now clear: he wanted their project legitimised before the Russians destroyed their opportunity through ignorance and brutality.
‘Okay, thanks. Anyone with anything else? Something we don’t know already?’ Pescaro looked around the table, heads shaking silently in the negative. ‘Alright, how do we deal with these bastards?’
Salvatore Moretti said, ‘Let’s fix it the old fashioned way. Invite ‘em somewhere for a good feed then knock ‘em off on full bellies.’
Al Catena responded, ‘Cut it out Sal. Those shits won’t come and eat with us, they want to own our bread and butter. An’ I ain’t goin’ to lunch with them for that reason. Don’t trust ‘em. Don Pescaro, like Ed said, I think we have to watch, wait, see the patterns then pounce. I know you want swift. Sun Tzu might say swift is good. But swift ain’t good if we’re in the dark and not ready. Right now, I say we’re both. I agree with Ed. We need live information and so far, we ain’t got much.’
‘Don Pescaro,’ Vito Franse spoke haltingly. Although highly competent at his work, he was a young man and, as Fabrizzi’s second, unused to stepping up to this level. ‘I think we need patience. They will be expecting a swift reaction which means they will be alert and prepared. Time is our friend. Being on alert full time is demanding and draining. I think we should take a coordinated approach, wipe out the four top guys in one go, let them think matters have settled and then take out the next four. But let’s do it at a time that suits us, not while they think they have the upper hand. If we act now, it means they are pulling our chain, and I don’t like that. Let’s wait a while.’
‘Our people are at Rasputin’s,’ said Argolia as he rejoined them. ‘We’ll know soon what goes down. I hate to disagree with you Don Pescaro, but I think Vito’s assessment is sensible. I say wait three weeks, a month, build up our knowledge about the bastards, even down to their brand of crap paper. Let’s act on what we actually know. I don’t care how public revenge is, we gotta send a message to the rest. Encroachment ain’t tolerated.’ Argolia’s special interest was any form of unlawful gaming and, as a small man, he had encountered many forms of intimidation. No one had ever scared him. He was as lethal as a snake, excelled with knives and loved fighting dirty. Over time, he had become an effective executioner.
Pescaro welcomed differences of opinion – it led to better plans. As he listened, he heard good sense.
‘Right. Emilio, Vito, you will help me. Frankie, you are in charge of intelligence. Everyone is involved. Frankie, co-ordinate and ring through what you have each day. Teresa will organise your information and Emilio, Vito and I will build our plan. Everyone clear?’
Argolia’s phone rang again. The group went quiet as Frankie listened.
Felipe appeared. ‘Excuse me Don Pescaro, is that your car in Lygon Lane?’ He pointed to a CCTV monitor.
Teresa nodded. ‘Yes it is,’ she said, ‘why?’
‘Take a look Miss.’ Teresa and Salvatore went to the monitor, Felipe adjusted the picture.
‘Shit!’ she exclaimed, ‘that’s Yuri Andropov, one of Chernamenko’s Vors; he’s spray painting the car!’
Salvatore Moretti and Vito Franse were already hurtling down the stairs. Andropov was ambling down Lygon Lane stuffing a mobile phone in his pocket. Teresa could see he would disappear before they reached him.
They stared at the monitors. Argolia scythed through their concentration. ‘Tony Florenza is at Rasputin’s. He’s just changed with someone. He says the Russians are drinking coffee and Chernamenko was on the phone to someone then explained something funny to his comrades.’
‘Too late,’ Teresa cried. Heads swivelled back to the monitor where Moretti and Franse were seen pounding along to Pescaro’s car. Andropov was neither in sight nor range of another monitor. Moretti and Franse went to Grattan Street, disappeared for a few minutes then came back to Lygon Lane. They inspected the car and continued on to Luciano’s.
Pescaro was furious. The Russian’s arrogance was insufferable. He waited for Moretti and Franse to return. When they entered the room he barked, ‘Well?’
Franse looked at Moretti and then Pescaro. ‘He sprayed a message on the bonnet: We’re watching you Pescaro.
Within the hubbub, anger rose perceptibly. Teresa was torn: the episode was deadly serious, but the quirky side of her nature saw Andropov’s actions as a cheeky schoolboy prank. She could only smile inwardly.
Pescaro’s voice cut across her thoughts like acid through limestone. ‘They are playing with us. I want the bastards dead by the end of this week. All eight. No more crap about live intelligence. I will not be threatened, insulted or intimidated by Russian arrogance. You are capos, you are supposed to be competent. Work with Milo. Milo, take us home then come and see me at 6:00 p.m. with something solid. Frankie, get my car cleaned.’
Giuseppe’s mood brooked no demur. While palpably angry, he was also privately annoyed for his public outburst. He had long given up displays of public feeling when Angelina died but public mockery was intolerable and just now, patience was not his strong suit.
Chapter
THIRTY- SIX
While Pescaro met with his clan, Ben Aldrittson brooded at home. He was pissed off that he had been unable to lay Teresa and even more pissed off over his father’s early morning phone call and the film he had sent across.
Following their discussion, Martin Judd had become Santini’s replacement. His development under Santini had been thorough and in his new role he had been auditing Santini’s files. Knowing the man’s obsessiveness, Judd expected to find perfection. But he had not. He had found records for two different periods, each of a week, filed in reverse order. The first was the second week of August 1993, the second for the third week of March 2002. This was totally out of character for Santini and there was no logical explanation.
Judd told Jack he had thought deeply before raising the matter but, given Santini’s obsessiveness, felt he had no choice. Jack told Ben he had initially been dismissive but as he thought more about it had to acknowledge errors like this were not Santini’s style. On a hunch, he got Judd to check Santini’s computer history. Two entries were found for Sunday 6:06:05 at 1:40 a.m. and 3:45 a.m.
Alarmed, Jack instructed Judd to get the CCTV tapes for Saturday June 5, and Sunday June 6, 2005. They sat in Jack’s office watching the film and at 12:32 a.m. on Sunday saw a shadowy figure emerge from the eastern truck shed and move to the Administration Centre. Aldrittson was shocked to see this person enter his own unlocked window. With no surveillance inside the building, they c
ould only guess at what happened next.
Jack told Ben his mind had withered at the thought of potential damage to the company if their information was leaked. They then skipped the film forward and were astonished to see, at 3:05 a.m., another figure clamber over the southern fence and run to the Administration Centre. Like the first, the second person inspected the building then climbed through Aldrittson’s window. At 3:14 a.m. a figure left the building and ran to the darkness of the eastern truck shed and vanished.
At 4:58 a.m. the second person was bailed up at Jack’s window by the guard dogs. They had staggered into view looking thoroughly drunk. The intruder pointed something at the dogs and they reeled away in distress. That person then jumped from the window, ran to the southern fence, scaled it and disappeared. After viewing the film several times, Jack concluded that despite the enormous coincidence, the intruders appeared to be separate parties. He didn’t know what to make of that.
Ben had watched the film dispassionately. Like his father, he too concluded the intruders were unconnected and that security was disgraceful. He had no idea what these people had been after, although Lance Baker’s warning reverberated in his head. That was a worry because if they were idealistic environmentalists, they could destroy the firm.
He rang his father. ‘Dad, what have you actually found missing from the office?’
‘Nothing,’ said Jack, sounding perplexed. ‘Martin found two sets of records stored in reverse order and that was not like Santini. That’s what caused the alert. When I asked him to check Santini’s computer he told me someone had got into it and looked around.’
Ben groaned. ‘Tell me again Dad, just what did Santini have in his computer?’
‘All the coded records for our black waste operation – everything.’
‘Dad, if they took copies of that, we are in really deep shit.’
‘I don’t think they did son, they weren’t there long enough. It would take hours to print everything Santini had on his computer.’
Ben groaned again. ‘Dad, for God’s sake get with it! A memory stick could receive the contents of Santini’s computer in minutes.’
‘Well that changes everything,’ Aldrittson said hoarsely, ‘especially if they break Santini’s code. That stuff will give them all our black waste customers and expose our entire business. Jesus, if that falls into the wrong hands we’re fucked.’
Ben heard fear rising in his father’s voice and felt his own cold dread. He said, ‘In that case, let’s hope it was something Pescaro organised as payback for you appointing Judd. At least if it was Pescaro the information will be safe. If it’s some environmental nut, we can kiss goodbye to it all … you and me both. I never wanted to think about this but … we need a contingency plan, a country having no extradition treaty with Australia. Some place like Majorca where Skase went.’
Jack groaned. ‘I never thought it would come to this. Our enterprise has been so secure for so long, plans like that never entered my head. But it makes sense. I’ll look into it. At least we’ve got the best lawyers in Australia. I’ll get it cranked up. You’ve just ruined my weekend. I feel completely stuffed.’
Chapter
THIRTY- SEVEN
In strained silence Teresa and Pescaro were driven home. Teresa had never seen Pescaro so angry. She suspected his fury burned more from personal humiliation than Fabrizzi’s death. Loss of face in public was a serious affront. In this mood any discussion was impossible. Yet, while understanding Pescaro’s desire for swift, merciless revenge, Teresa believed it was not the right course of action.
Stone faced and rigid, Pescaro sat sullenly. Chernamenko had killed a good man, had known where his team was meeting and had defaced his car with a blunt warning. Pescaro’s complacency was evident to both gangs and Chernamenko was ahead on points. Yet temper would achieve little apart from accelerating his downfall. Mafia history was littered with such examples.
Turning into Villa del Rosa, they drove along the white pebbled driveway to the fountain. With a curt nod to Argolia, Pescaro stomped inside. Teresa gazed after him. At seventy-four, if Pescaro could not demonstrate control, there would be a successor – by agreement or otherwise – very soon.
She went to the kitchen and made coffee. Entering the library she almost choked on the thick fug of Pescaro’s cigar smoke. He motioned her to sit but remained silent.
After a few minutes he said, ‘The situation is not good.’
‘I agree,’ she said, ‘so we have to be practical and innovative with our strategy. Earlier, you referred to Sun Tzu and the need to respond swiftly. It’s evident that Chernamenko has sound intelligence and we may find it hard to out-think him. We can learn from another great warrior; Musashi. He would advise that you drop your obvious aim and win by a different method. He says if two forces in conflict appear equal, change tactics; do something unexpected. I think that’s good advice.’
Pescaro, sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. She was full of surprises this one. Then he remembered – she excelled in the physical and philosophical aspects of martial arts. ‘Go on.’
‘Right now, Chernamenko is on top because of surprise and good intelligence. He’ll be ready for rapid payback. But, he could be bluffing. We know little of his capability and we don’t know what he knows about us. He might be using “the principle of discovery” as a lure so that our retaliation will reveal our strengths and weaknesses to him. Chernamenko was an intelligence officer and that would be right up his alley.’
Pescaro was thoughtful. ‘So, what are you suggesting?’
‘Well,’ said Teresa slowly, ‘I believe our actions should proceed on what we know about Chernamenko. I am mindful of innocent victims. We know he wouldn’t hesitate in taking revenge publicly nor be concerned by the number of people killed or injured. That’s Vor tradition. However, bloody and callous action will terrify the community, arouse intense hostility and bring searing scrutiny from the police. And they will put a blow torch to everything! We saw how they responded to the recent gang wars. We have to balance revenge and public wellbeing while preventing the police from interfering with business.’
‘Continue,’ rumbled Pescaro.
Teresa smiled. ‘All war is based on deception. We must never lose sight of that; whether it’s us or Chernamenko. Deception and surprise means endless vigilance, ceaseless change, razor like awareness and constant operational refinement. Deception can foster wrong decisions and weaken superiority. In Sun Tzu’s eyes, enemies should be deceived by creating shapes while concealing one’s own shape. Yet deception alone is not enough – morale must also suffer. Reconnaissance, deception and confusion will change our situation while we outflank Chernamenko.’
Pescaro felt more comfortable. A long time admirer of Sun Tzu, he was receiving a lesson in strategy from a young woman who was not even true Mafia. He smiled at Teresa. ‘Alright. No more riddles, what have you got in mind?’
‘What does Chernamenko want?’ Teresa asked rhetorically. ‘He wants a share of the waste business and more of the crime market. We offer him that while concealing our shape. We reassure Chernamenko by giving him what he wants while we wait in ambush.’
‘The men will think I’ve lost it if I invite him on board after Fabrizzi and especially after my performance this morning. Why should they think I’m still in control?’
‘That’s easy, they want you to be decisive, they want you to lead them. We don’t know Chernamenko’s capability – we need to dangle a bait, to learn about him then attack his weak points. I believe that would fit the sentiment of our meeting today. But, we take nothing for granted. No matter what happens, we don’t tell the capos the complete strategy. Chernamenko might have a spy among us.’
Pescaro winced and blinked rapidly.
She continued. ‘We call for a sit-down and negotiate with Chernamenko. We reach a deal that makes clear a percentage of everything we give him comes back to us. The deal will only be a sticking point if we make it so. He wants in
at any price. Our aim is to get rid of him and his team but he must take our bait. Anything agreed with him can be re-negotiated after he’s gone … if that’s necessary.’
Pescaro said ruefully, ‘I’m not sure the troops will buy this. I was pretty shitty this morning and they’ll be expecting tougher action than this – they’ll see this as a sell out.’
‘You’ve just confirmed my point. Chernamenko is likely to think the same. In effect, what you are doing is hiding your intention, and you must keep that to yourself. When the whole plan is in place I’d be surprised if the capos were unhappy. After that, to beat the system we use the system.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
Teresa leaned forward, her manner and tone earnest. ‘This idea is intrinsic to Sun Tzu’s tactic of deception. We lure Chernamenko close, establish liaison, reassure him as best he will allow because he will be suspicious. We know these thugs came here under false pretences – all of them have sanitised records. With help from overseas, we prove their criminality and reveal their deception. Using a respectable conduit, we give Immigration authorities the true dossiers of Chernamenko, Vitalev, Silverstein and Bilyenko. At the same time, we give police the identities and locations of the people who killed Fabrizzi.’
Pescaro nodded. ‘That sounds promising, go on.’
‘Recent events have shown that Immigration authorities will act swiftly on illegals or people falsely obtaining Australian citizenship. The Russians have breached a fundamental entry requirement – good character. That lie is implicit in their migration application. We don’t know yet if they’re naturalised, but if they are, their applications will be fraudulent. They will almost certainly fall outside the criteria for favourable consideration because they’re not refugees, they are criminals and they’re unlikely to have the required skills, family needs or special eligibility status that would allow them to stay. The government demands that immigrants be of good character – these men have deceived the system. Their criminality punctures the government’s concept of good conduct and I believe Immigration will kick them out quick smart.’
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