The Dame Did It

by Joel Jenkins

  * * *

  Roughly 45 minutes later, Fido pulled the Cabriolet into the parking lot of Alex’s Diner, a small but popular diner on the outskirts of the eccentric town of West Seneca. It was located in an area outside the usual trading routes of both families, including away from the border of Canada. This eatery was one of the small number of ideal places in the Western New York vicinity that members of both families could meet and consider neutral ground. In fact, Gino and Pinaro had eaten lunch in this quaint little place run by Ukrainian immigrants just a few weeks ago, and a brief prior call to some of his real estate contacts made it clear that no one remotely connected to the Gambino Family of Western New York owned the diner. Also, the food there was quite good, and offered a nice occasional alternative to the Italian cuisine they usually consumed.

  The entourage exited the vehicle in the usual security-conscious fashion. Directed by Fido, Gino’s head of security, the former exited the driver’s side while Pinaro simultaneously disembarked from the passenger door. The two men then walked around to the left side of the car and opened the back door, covering the flank of both Gino and Gia. Ira exited in the other direction, giving an ocular scan of the vicinity as he did so. When all decided the coast was clear, Fido signaled it was safe to approach the diner and enter. Due to the restaurant’s neutrality, Gino was certain that Vito Gambino had no funny business in mind, but Fido took his job seriously and was taking no chances. He couldn’t help smelling a big, dead rat festering under the summer heat.

  “There’s Gambino’s auto over there,” Gino pointed out as he noticed the shiny, azure blue Cadillac Twelve. “It figures that big Mama Luke had to get here first.”

  “That just means we get this over with sooner, Papa,” Gia noted with a grin. “I don’t wanna miss the premiere of Hold Your Man at the Regal tonight.”

  “That’s the new picture show with that Jean Harlot broad, right?” Pinaro queried.

  “That’s Harlow, you mook!” Ira corrected him.

  “Whoops!” the lean and muscular bodyguard flippantly apologized. “I just call ’em like I see ’em.”

  “Hell to the highway with her!” Gia lamented. “I’m going to see it for Clark Gable. He looks really stellar in those suits of his, like the type of gentleman every gal dreams of having for a husband.”

  “Hmf…” Ira was heard to audibly scowl under his breath, albeit barely.

  “Gable?” Pinaro retorted with a look of incredulity upon his chiseled visage. “Rumor through the Hollywood grapevine has it that he’s fruitier than a can of Del Monte’s finest, and more ‘strange’ than a three dollar bill.”

  “He is not!” Gia exclaimed. “That man is far too handsome and charming to be queer status!”

  Pinaro began laughing, while Ira continued to scowl. “Trust me, honey, you’d get more loving attention being married to your own fingers than the likes of him, if ya get my meaning.”

  Pinaro’s next laugh at his own joke was cruelly cut off as Gino turned and slugged him in the stomach. The man’s swing was startlingly fast, with more than enough force to send the well-muscled, much younger man to the ground. Pinaro held a hand over his pain-wracked lower abdomen as he gasped for breath and struggled to get back on his feet.

  “You stifle that talk in front of my little girl!” Gino bellowed in his gruff voice, while he utilized every iota of his willpower to suppress his own urge to follow up the blow with a kick to his loyal employee’s face. “She’s a lady, not one of those shameless whores you usually keep company with!”

  Gia moved forward and grabbed her father’s arm, hoping to ease his legendary temper. “Papa, that wasn’t necessary; you know Frank didn’t mean nothin’ by his comment. He was only joking and being his usual self.”

  “Well, I don’t like his usual self when he’s around you!” Gino hollered. He then turned back to the still grounded Pinaro. “Just consider your hairy little bum lucky that I got need of you right now, or I would personally kill you… with my bare hands and feet. Now get up, fix your suit, and look presentable again. You’re about to attend an important business meeting, and you can’t do that looking like you slept in that outfit.”

  “Sure… sure, Boss,” Pinaro gasped as Ira held out his hand and helped him back to his feet. The tough young bodyguard was thankful he hadn’t eaten lunch before taking that punch, or he knew he would have lost it on the parking lot ground and received further embarrassment.

  “Dammit, Papa, I’m not some chaste little girl that don’t know nothing about the world!” Gia protested. “You gotta stop coddling me like this!”

  “Watch your mouth, young lady,” Gino replied. “It’s un-ladylike to use profanity, especially in public, and that’s—”

  “—not how you raised me, I know,” Gia finished her father’s sentence. “Well, maybe I’ve been raising myself all these years too, ‘specially since becoming a woman, and I know lots more about this stuff than you think.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Gino wondered aloud. “Have you been whoring around behind my back? I told these guys of mine to watch you! Or, maybe some of them have been watching you a bit too closely?”

  Ira gulped involuntarily, and loud enough to be heard. Gino’s accusatory glare then focused exclusively on him, instead of all three of his nervous guards.

  “Got something you wanna tell me, you filthy Irish bug?” Gino asked the slightly trembling Irish/Italian hybrid while grabbing the lapel of his double-breasted dress coat. “You gonna tell me, or do I have to beat you until you do?”

  “Boss, I…” were the only words Ira could get out before his voice petered out.

  “You son of a bitch!” Gino hollered as he clenched his free fist and moved it into pummeling position. He found his intention obstructed when his daughter grasped his raised arm with surprising strength.

  “Papa, no, it’s not like that!” she pleaded. “Ira and I are in love, he don’t treat me like no whore!”

  “In love?” the now thoroughly red-faced Don said with astonishment. “What the hell do you know about love? You’re only—”

  “—twenty-three, Papa,” she again finished his sentence. “And Mama, God rest her soul, was younger than me when you married her!”

  “That was different!” Gino insisted. “I courted her the proper way, got her father’s blessing and approval. I didn’t sneak around like a little weasel!”

  “I’m a grown woman, and I have every right to ‘sneak around’ as I please!” Gia shouted with extreme conviction. “This is not old world Italy, this is America, and you don’t own me! I was born here, and I now even have the right to vote, for God’s sake!”

  Gino’s vicious demeanor suddenly softened, and his grip on Ira’s collar went slack. The young man then breathed a huge sigh of relief, thinking he may actually survive this day.

  “How could you disrespect me like this?” the Don asked his beloved daughter in a melancholy voice she hadn’t heard from him since the night her mother died. “I’m the man who raised you, I gave you everything…”

  “I didn’t do this to disrespect you, Papa,” Gia replied in a lower tone. “I did this ’cause I’m my own woman, and this has made me happy. It wasn’t about you, okay?”

  “Boss… Mr. Provenzo, can I please say something?” Ira suddenly interjected with a slight stammer. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, it was my fault, and I thought you would—”

  Don Provenzo abruptly ended Ira’s attempted plea by sticking his meaty index finger in his face. “Don’t make excuses for her! Or for yourself. We have an important meeting to get out of the way now, but you can bet your hooch-swilling little Irish ass that we’re gonna talk long and hard about this afterwards. Got it?”

  “I got it, Boss,” was Ira’s nervous reply, as the combination of his terror and the summer sun caused him to perspire so much that he hoped his suit wasn’t soaked.

  “Then let’s take care of this shit,” Gino said as he directed his entourage to continue towa
rds the diner entrance. “We’ll pick up on this later.”

  Gia then approached Ira and took his arm, speaking to him softly. “Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay. I told you he was gonna find out sooner or later, and now that it’s outta the bag we’ll deal with it together, all right?”

  Ira simply nodded his head and followed his boss into the restaurant, not uttering another word.

  * * *

  The quaint but clean interior of Alex’s Diner was certainly not the posh eatery that people of Gino’s caliber were accustomed to. But he understood the importance of the location’s neutrality, and he was here to dispense important business, not treat himself to a meal fully worthy of a man of his station. He noticed but one other customer: A young woman in a flowered dress who couldn’t be older than 19 sequestered in a distant corner table, quietly reading the latest issue of The Buffalo News and sipping on a milkshake. A few employees, consisting of two middle-aged women dressed in typical drab restaurant work attire and aprons, furtively went about their business behind the counter. They said nothing to each other or the newest group of patrons entering the establishment.

  “Geez Louise, what a dive,” Pinaro noted aloud. “Couldn’t ya have found a neutral place that served anything better than greasy cow burgers, Boss?”

  “No, and just shut up,” the Don tersely replied. “We’re here on business, and don’t you forget your job. Getting treated to the best cuisine in the area isn’t part of that job, Killer.”

  Gia smirked. “Papa always gives us the best, no doubt,” she lamented with a visible hint of sarcasm.

  “Enough out of you, little girl!” Gino snapped. “I’ve always given you nothing but the best, including that expensive satin bias dress you’re wearing right now… unlike any other ladies we’ve seen today. Do you know how pricey it was to find that style of dress with the leg o’ mutton sleeves you like?”

  “This shore is one beautiful gown,” Gia said in response. “But let’s face it, Papa, ya bought it for me ’cause you feel how I look in public is a reflection on you. Let’s just be callin’ it like it is here.”

  Gino scowled. “You ungrateful little—”

  “Uh, Boss…” Fido interjected, cutting off Gino’s admonishment. “Just thought I would tell you before you started yellin’, that Vito, his squeeze, and his boys are sitting right over there, and looking right at us.” The burly bodyguard pointed his index finger in the proper direction to bring Gino’s attention to where his great “business” rival was seated.

  Vito Gambino was a tall, fearsome-looking man with rugged looks and close-cropped black hair. He beamed gleefully when he saw Gino’s entourage, yet his tough guy appearance made his smiles appear intimidating rather than amiable. His immaculate three-piece, wide-breasted suit and shiny matching fedora hat were as expensive as those worn by Gino, and looked brand new.

  “Gino, my goombadi!” he shouted in a rough voice with a noticeable Italian accent. “So glad you could make it! Come here, come here!”

  Fido made a point to step in front of Gino to guard him as they headed towards the table at the far left of the diner. Vito’s latest lover, an attractive young woman in a low back green dress, sat beside him. On either side of them sat two of Vito’s well-dressed bodyguards, with another standing a bit off to the side of the table. The trio were clearly watching every breath taken by Gino’s party.

  Don Provenzo confidently walked over to the other side of the table, Gia following him with a commensurate level of outward calm. The standing guard’s eyes appeared to lock on her in a manner akin to that of a frog intensely scanning a fly it was determined to snatch from the air. She smiled and winked at him, and he slyly reciprocated.

  Gino sat directly across from Vito, his gaze intense and expression neutral. Vito, however, kept up the smiles and sense of joviality.

  Gia sat to the right of her father, as she usually did. Getting comfortable, she adjusted the capelets on her dress’ shoulder areas, allowing a moderate amount of cleavage to show. She didn’t consider herself a floozy by any means, but she well understood the advantage and power that female sex appeal had in a world ostensibly dominated by men. They only think they’re in control, and it’s to our advantage to let them keep thinking that, was a personal motto she often shared with female acquaintances.

  “What exactly are you looking at, big boy?” she asked Vito’s guard who was now obviously staring at her cleavage.

  “I was just admiring the pretty flowers on your dress,” he replied, referring to the embroidered roses on her capelets.

  She let out a brief snort, and said, “Mmhmm, I’ll bet you are.” She couldn’t help smiling just a little when she noticed the fiery glare that Ira beamed to the opposing guard.

  Fido and Pinaro took their usual places standing on each side of where Gino and Gia were sitting, while Ira did the same by sitting at Gino’s left. It was the job of the first two to keep an eye on Vito’s guards and the general environment; Ira’s job was to keep an eye on Vito himself.

  Clearly intending to break the tension on many levels, and to avoid Gino focusing attention on the exchange between his guard and Gia, Vito festively hit the table with his powerful hand.

  “So, dinner is about to be served, people!” said the Don of Buffalo’s Gambino Family with relish. “Cow burgers and potato sticks on the house!” He then subjected his guests to his unsettling laugh.

  “That oughta do wonders for my expanding figure,” the slightly plump Gia noted quietly.

  “Nah, you got more to love this way, doll,” Vito’s guard opined with a wry smirk.

  “Why, thank you, kind sir,” Gia said with a smirk of her own, while both Gino and Ira developed an inflamed countenance.

  “One more word like that, you filthy little puissant,” Gino told the guard, “and I will personally remove your prized part and shove it so far up your behind that you’ll be peeing out of your mouth.”

  The guard gritted his teeth, but knew better than to say anything in return, especially after Vito raised his hand to emphasize a moratorium on that kind of talk.

  “Boys, boys, let’s dispense with all the negativity,” he said. “We’re here for a friendly business meeting, and I don’t want to come off as disrespectful to my goombadi here.”

  “I’m not your goombadi, Vito,” Gino clarified sternly. “I’m not here to enjoy your company, let alone the company of what passes for your ‘help.’ I’m here to iron out the matter of your horning in on my territory lately. It’s going to stop; the only further question to answer here is how.”

  “Tell ’em, Papa,” Gia quietly cheered, while again winking at the leader of Vito’s guards.

  Vito continued to smile as his guards tensed up.

  “No need to be that way, Gino,” the Gambino Don said. “We all know that the Queen City is a big apple, and its surrounding area makes it a whole big apple pie. More than big enough for both our families to get their fair share of the slices. There’s no need for us to see the other as ‘horning’ in on anyone else’s property. It’s about sharing, my esteemed Italian brother. Don’t you agree?”

  “I agree that you have as much interest in ‘sharing’ the pie with my family as you would that skinny little dish of yours,” Gino spat.

  “Say what?” his date, Florence, reacted with a start. “Vito, are you going to let him—?”

  “Quiet!” he shouted at the young woman, and she immediately complied. Vito then regained his composure and toothy smile with impressive haste.

  “Now, Gino,” Don Gambino continued, “there’s no call for any accusations, or insults. We can work this out, I’m sure. With that mess going on in Chicago, and my family members in New Orleans dropping like flies between an uncooperative rival family, coppers, and vigilantes going all ‘Chicago’ on them… well, I’m sure you understand our need to seek out other horizons. We can work together to make the Queen City a more profitable place than Chicago and Manhattan combined.

  “Toge
ther, we can be bigger than the likes of Maggadino, Bonnano, Corleone, Comante, and Morello… combined. I’m sure you know, as we do, that there’s lots of talk about the repeal of the Prohibition legislation going through in just a few months. If that happens, it will be bad for business on a level that affects us both. My family needs to find as many alternatives to the speakeasies as possible, as soon as we can, and that means… we need to expand our interests. You know, like lending, gambling, the unions; all opportunities for the future. And if we work together, what one of our families gains, so does the other.”

  Gino threw his left hand up to silence his rival’s tirade. “How stupid do you think I am, Vito?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean, Gino,” he replied.

  “Like hell you don’t!” the Provenzo Don exclaimed while pounding a fist on the table; this caused two cups of water to overturn and spill their contents. “I know that what you’re doing here is trying to sweet talk your way into convincing me to let your sorry ass into my family’s territory. To let you get your grimy hands into the same alternatives to the speakeasies that my family has spent the last two years working to build. Well, guess what? It’s. Not. Gonna. Happen. Is that clear?”

  Vito displayed an obviously forced smile as everyone else present visibly tensed up in unison.

  “Well, now,” Vito said with a frown. “Those are some mighty uncharitable accusations, Gino. I thought you knew me better than that. My family has worked this city almost as long as yours has, and—”

  “And prior to you being put in charge, your family respected its boundaries,” Gino interrupted to remind him. “They didn’t show all these silly and dangerous ambitions. If Lenny was still around to run things, he would be milking as much as he could out of your family’s speakeasies before the legislation goes through, invest the proceeds into a few little dens of iniquity… and mostly jump ship to some other apple that has room for you.