by Sam Moffie
“I have had enough people make fun of my name,” Trotsky Number Seven added.
“You guys are tough. Where did you learn that people can be so cruel?” Ivan asked Alexei.
“The playground, my friend. In my neighborhood, making fun of people’s names was the first thing you learned on the playground,” Alexei said.
Ivan suddenly threw the telephone book up in the air. He hoped it would land on a page where both Alexei and Trotsky Number Seven would find a name they could agree on. Ivan didn’t care which name they picked. He had no problem with Bryan Ladd or Charles Odum — whoever they were in real life. He just wanted to use one of their names to rename his friend.
The big telephone book landed with a thud face down. Ivan bent over to pick it up. He immediately saw that he was on the page that began with the letters ‘Ru’. He handed the book to Trotsky Number Seven. Alexei came over to Trotsky Number Seven and they started looking at the names on the page. A few times Alexei pointed to a name and Trotsky Number Seven shook his head. Suddenly, they were both smiling.
“We found a new name for our friend,” Alexei announced to Ivan.
“Well…?” Ivan began.
“You tell him,” Alexei urged Trotsky Number Seven.
“I will now be known as Barney Rumberg,” the former Trotsky Number Seven told Ivan.
“Great. I love it!” Ivan shouted. “And it’s Jewish too. That will make a certain someone roll over in his grave.”
“Maybe it’s German and NOT Jewish.” Alexei said.
“Maybe its French,” Ivan found himself saying.
“It sure is easy to see who has influenced you with his cooking,” the former Trotsky Number Seven said.
“In more ways than his cooking,” Alexei said.
“Barney Rumberg, let us go out and have a drink to your new name,” Ivan said.
“Toughski shitski,” Barney said with a big smile on his face.
Seven Zeros Productions had a lot of growing pains in trying to make movies. So did Ivan and Alexei when it came time to carry out their mission.
“At times it’s hard for me to realize that the only thing we have accomplished that means anything is getting Barney out of Russia and into a trade,” Ivan said as he got up and walked around his office after a long day of not only going over a budget to make a movie, but putting together their first attempt to kill the Duke.
“It was easy to get him the job after he learned the job,” Alexei said.
“I didn’t think he would adapt so quickly,” Ivan said.
“It sure helped that he’s working for us,” Alexei said with a laugh.
“He does his job well,” Ivan said.
“The only guy in Hollywood who is listed as a second-unit director and just fills out time cards,” Alexei said.
“It’s better than his previous job,” Ivan said.
Alexei nodded in agreement.
“Big shots like us need to take care of little shots like him,” Ivan said.
“We are learning well… I think,” Alexei said. “By the way, what is a second-unit director’s job anyway?”
“Someone was asleep in class. The second-unit director is in charge of filming the stunt scenes, because the stunt scenes rarely involve the real actors of the film,” lectured Ivan.
“Shouldn’t the second-unit director have a background in stunts?” Alexei asked.
“No. The stunt coordinator takes care of all that,” Ivan said.
“That is why our second-unit director can fill out time sheets,” Alexei said.
“Now, you’re learning well,” Ivan said.
“Getting better at puns, too. You know we get a lot of earthquakes out here,” Alexei said.
“That’s not a pun,” Ivan said.
“I know. But do you know what the best store is to be in during an earthquake?” Alexei asked his partner.
Ivan shook his head no.
“A stationary store,” Alexei said with a laugh.
“That’s a bad pun,” Ivan said.
“Let’s take a break from getting the movie started and talk about our real mission,” a very serious Alexei suddenly said.
“You have also learned quickly to shift gears,” Ivan said.
“You noticed? I guess it comes from driving that sports car you bought me,” Alexei joked.
“Proceed,” Ivan said.
“In a few minutes, we are meeting Johnny Stompanato,” began Alexei.
“The American gangster?” guessed Ivan.
“No, the Russian gangster! Of course the American gangster,” Alexei responded sarcastically. “Get your coat, I’ll drive.”
Johnny Stompanato had everything that an American gangster was supposed to have, especially a gangster in Hollywood. He had fought in World War II in the Pacific as a Marine. After the war, he was all over the world working hard jobs and even converted to Islam, because he married a Turkish woman. At some point, he returned to the Midwest without his wife and new-found religion. After a series of some more odd and tough jobs, he migrated to Hollywood, where his Marine toughness, classic Italian good looks, muscular physique and the ability to look, listen and not talk got him introduced to Mickey Cohen.
Mickey Cohen was in charge of the West Coast syndicate. He had been a loyal foot solider to everyone from Al Capone in Chicago to Meyer Lansky in Florida. It was Lansky who sent Cohen from Cleveland to Hollywood to be Siegel’s bodyguard. When Siegel was whacked, Cohen took over the helm of the West Coast. Cohen’s rival was Jack Dragna. Their mob wars rocked Hollywood. When one is fighting a war… even a crime war…there is a need for soldiers. Johnny Stompanato had wartime experience and became one of Cohen’s foot soldiers.
Stompanato also was a ladies’ man. So when not helping Mickey Cohen, he was dating Lana Turner. Lana Turner was a big-time Hollywood actress who had worked with John Wayne.
“It couldn’t have worked out any better,” Alexei said to Ivan as they drove to meet Stompanato.
“Is that his real name… Stompanato?” Ivan asked.
“I think so. I don’t think he changed it if that’s what you mean,” Alexei said. “His nickname is ‘Johnny Stomp.’”
“I guess that’s why he’s going to be an ally. These American gangsters are really predictable with their names,” Ivan said.
“How do you mean?” Alexei asked.
“They all have either an ‘ie’ or a ‘y’ at the end of their first names. Here we are going to see Johnny who works for Mickey…,” Ivan was cut off by Alexei before he could finish.
“Who took over from Bugsy,” Alexei added.
“Look at the men you read about in the papers. Paulie, Ralphie, Tommy. It never stops with these guys,” Ivan said.
“I wonder if, when the gangsters are old, they will still go by these childish names,” Alexei said.
“They probably will. As I said, the American Mafia is so predictable… down to the vowels in their names,” Ivan said.
“That’s one thing we’ll never have to worry about in Russia,” Alexei suddenly said.
“First names that end in vowels?” Ivan asked.
“A mafia!” shouted Alexei.
“That’s true. Small, black-market operators, but no Russian mafia will ever come to power as long as Mr. Zavert gives the orders and Boris does his job,” Ivan said.
“Did I tell you how I met Stompanato?” Alexei said, changing the subject.
Ivan shook his head no.
“As we both know, you have been busy setting up Seven Zeros Productions while I have been busy getting to know the ins and outs of underground Hollywood, so we can make the right contacts to successfully carry out our mission. I learned that the best place to meet people like Stompanato is at a place called The Coconut Grove,” Alexei said.
“And, that’s where we are headed now?” Ivan asked.
“Correct. At first glance the place doesn’t look like much, but don’t judge a book by its cover,” Alexei said.
�
��I have learned that many times over,” Ivan said.
“Once, I was pulling into the parking lot and I see this one guy fighting off three others. The loner is getting his shots in, but it’s clear that the three are going to put him down, which they do very shortly. I am just standing there watching, when the three start kicking the one all over the place. Just as I’m about to take a step towards the brutality, I hear a voice call out from the shadows,” Alexei said. “‘Why don’t you guys guys pick on someone your own size?’” Alexei said that the voice said. “And, it was in a very manly tone.”
“Had to be your man,” Ivan said.
“You guess well. He stepped into the dimly lit parking lot and immediately took a step towards the three men, who for the moment stopped kicking the man they had just knocked out. They stepped toward the man with the deep voice, Johnny Stompanato, and I found myself quietly maneuvering closer to all four of them. Stompanato just threw himself on top of the three bullies, who were clearly not expecting that, and with the surprise, Johnny landed some good blows. But one against three can only do so much. Two against three, when one of those two is me, is another story, but it got me very close to Johnny because I knocked the other three out before Johnny knew someone was there to help him,” Alexei snorted.
“So you helped the gangster kick the crap out of the three and the both of you went inside to celebrate,” Ivan said.
“I didn’t know you read minds, too?” Alexei said sarcastically.
“I don’t. It was an easy plot to figure out. Why did the fight happen in the first place?” Ivan asked.
“I never found out. Stompanato was out in the back alley taking a piss, because the line to go to the bathroom in the bar was too long for him, and he came across the fight. The first thing he said to me was ‘I hate seeing three on one, unless it’s three broads on me.’”
“I’m beginning to really like this guy and I haven’t even met him yet,” Ivan said.
“You’ll like him, but never trust him. He’s a thug, a goon, an extortion artist. The lowest rung on the hoodlum ladder. But he’s screwing Lana Turner and can help make our mission a success if we use him right,” Alexei said.
“So, what’s the plan?” Ivan asked.
“Just follow my lead,” Alexei said as he pulled their red Cadillac into the parking lot of The Coconut Grove.
“This is your territory, so of course I’ll follow your lead,” Ivan said.
“Just like I follow yours at Seven Zeros,” Alexei said.
“We are a good team, are we not?” Ivan stated as they entered the tavern.
Alexei nodded and led the way to Johnny Stompanato’s table. Alexei had been in the bar so many times researching him that he knew exactly at what table Johnny held court.
It was at the far end of the bar. Stompanato sat with his back to the wall, so he could watch everyone in the bar.
“American gangsters don’t like anyone getting behind them,” Alexei later told Ivan after their meeting with Johnny.
Ivan had no problem believing that, because of the characters he and Alexei walked past to get to Stompanato’s table.
“It was a like a scene from central casting of Seven Zeros,” Ivan later told Alexei.
“I agree. It was like everyone that had shown up for our casting call on those few mobster movies that we made were at that bar,” Alexei said with a chuckle.
But this wasn’t a movie and the stakes were starting to get very real.
Johnny was sitting by himself, but both Ivan and Alexei could see that, from what was on the table, he hadn’t been alone for long.
There were empty shot glasses and a half-empty bottle of scotch in the center of the table. There was one fancy ash tray near the bottle of scotch that was over flowing with cigarette butts.
Ivan motioned to the ashtray and Alexei knew exactly what he was thinking.
Neither of them smoked and they were appalled by not only how many people smoked in Hollywood, but by how many cigarettes they smoked when they were with other people who smoked.
“A truly Russian advantage,” Alexei said as he emptied the ashtrays in the Seven Zeros meeting room a few days after they had met with Johnny.
“America has great toilet paper, but the cigarette smoking ruins that advantage,” Ivan responded.
“Give me vodka over tobacco any time,” Alexei said with a laugh. “I hate how my clothes smell after a night out at the clubs in Hollywood. It’s like everyone blows their smoke into my clothes.”
“It’s definitely a communist-versus-capitalist argument,” Ivan added. “Think of all the dry cleaning businesses that wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for tobacco.”
And they both laughed at that comment, because it overly simplified all the differences between the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and the United States of America.
Alexei pointed to a chair and Ivan sat down in it. Alexei took the chair next to it and waved for the cocktail waitress to come over.
“No need for that, gentlemen,” a deep baritone voice said to them.
Alexei recognized the voice of Johnny Stompanato and jumped up to shake hands with him. Ivan was introduced and Johnny waltzed over to the bar to get his companions some drinks.
Ivan noticed that Johnny Stompanto was every Hollywood casting director’s dream for an Italian mobster. Classic Italian good looks with thick black hair, dark piercing eyes, dark skin, big shoulders, cut waist and those clothes! Ivan thought as he studied the big Italian’s menswear. Nice beige slacks that would look extra roomy on others his size, but fit him perfectly. Dark brown lizard-skin shoes, and sporting a matching belt with a huge, silver buckle. Tailored white shirt with no tie, open at the collar, and a camelhair sportscoat.
“Ever notice that gangsters dress like movie stars,” Ivan whispered to Alexei.
“I think it’s the other way around,” Alexei whispered back.
“Hey, no whispering allowed,” Stompanato said firmly as he returned with the drinks.
“That’s a nice bracelet you’re wearing Johnny,” Alexi said, changing the subject.
“You like it?” Stompanato asked them both.
“Let me see it first,” Alexei said. Ivan said nothing, following the orders Alexei had given him.
“I’m never taking this off, but you can look real close,” Stompanato said as he held out his arm for Alexei to see.
“Lanita,” Alexei said.
“That’s my girl. We have been dating on and off since early 1953. Now, it’s more ‘on.’” Stompanato said.
And both Ivan and Alexei knew he was referring to his girlfriend Lana Turner.
“To business,” Stompanato said as he held his glass up for a toast.
Both Ivan and Alexei were pleased to see that they would be doing a shot of vodka. Ivan noticed that Johnny was drinking whiskey or scotch as they clinked glasses and downed their shots.
“Hey, you guys want to see something?” Stompanato asked them.
“Why not?” Alexei shrugged.
“Follow me, boys,” Stompanato said as he walked to a door that was close to ‘his’ table.
At first Alexei smelled a rat, but knowing he was one of the toughest men in the employment of Mr. Zavert, he relaxed and followed Stompanato without letting Ivan think there might be something wrong. Besides, I have my favorite pistol tucked away if things get out of control, he thought.
Ivan, following Alexei’s lead, walked behind his partner.
Alexei smelled a rat, because he had gotten familiar with the under-belly of Hollywood gangsters and other riff-raff that seemed to dominate everything that wasn’t official Hollywood. There were smarmy con artists offering maps to the stars, which raped the tourists of $1 at every turn because the maps were full of non-existent locations. Then, there were the phony photographers who walked around the streets looking for parents with young children. These con artists were good. They could spot the tourists with kids much better than the tourists could spot the con artis
ts. Within minutes of walking their children anywhere in the Hollywood vicinity, photographers would introduce themselves as paid talent scouts, for one of the studios always looking for the next child star. Before mom and dad could react, pictures were being snapped away. A photographer would then give the potential star-struck parents a card showing where they could pick up the photos and learn more about their child’s chances at becoming ‘discovered.’ Alexei had seen this so many times on the beaches of Malibu, where he loved to run and swim to stay fit, that he knew right away it was a scam. He had vowed to try and help the next couple with children that he saw being hosed.
Sure enough, one Sunday, after a day of running on the beach and swimming in the Pacific, Alexei got to make good on his vow.
Alexei spotted a so-called photographer snapping away and fast-talking a couple with twins. He waited for the con man to leave and then calmly walked up to the beaming parents, who were already making plans to change their day’s activities so they could go to the place mentioned on the photographer’s card.
“Good afternoon,” Alexei said to the couple.
“Hi,” replied the woman, whom Alexei couldn’t help noticing had beautiful skin to go along with dark eyes, and a nice physique that he could see because she was wearing a ruby-red, one-piece bathing suit. A quick glance at the children told Alexei that they were definitely lucky to have inherited their mother’s good looks, because their father was very plain looking. Alexei already knew the answer to why such a plain-looking man could have such a stunning beauty for a wife. Ivan had taught him this after a few months in Hollywood.
“If the woman is beautiful and the man plain, they are together because the man has power,” Ivan told his partner.
“Never saw a plain man with strength,” Alexei said.
“Not muscle power. Money power,” Ivan informed Alexei.
And Alexei learned another lesson about capitalism. All power has to do with money.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with the photographer. Do you think he is real? Do you think he really can make your children stars?” Alexei asked the couple.
“Excuse me, sir,” said the plain-looking husband, “what part of Russia are you from?” he asked.