by Joe Corso
Tarzan shook his head. “Are you sure you want to do this, Red? I mean, all we have to do is send her back to her ex-husband. From what I read in the papers, he still has it bad for her.”
“You mean Joe DiMaggio?”
“Yeah. If we gave her to him, then she’d be his problem and not ours. None of us need to get hurt, Red. This is not our fight.”
Red nodded. “I hear what you’re saying and I won’t hold it against you if you want out . . . and you’re right. It’s not our fight, but I’m making it our fight.”
Tarzan looked hurt. “Damn Red, I didn’t mean it that way. You know that whatever you decide, I’ll be at your side. If you want to pick a fight with the fuckin feds, then I’m your man. I’m just trying to figure out why you would choose to get involved in this when all you have to do is send her back home. That’s all.”
“Tarzan, you once told me that you couldn’t drive past a lady who was stuck in the rain, trying to change a flat tire without stopping to help her. Do you remember telling me that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well it’s raining outside and this lady is trying to change her tire and she could use our help.”
Tarzan smiled. “Okay, boss, I’ll tell the boys to get ready.”
CHAPTER 9
“Mr. Reynolds, I have the information on the Colt pistol you asked me to get for you. I separated the Colt Single Action owners into three categories. Licensed owners, historical owners, and collectors, and I have the Colt factory list of SAA guns sold since 1948. I found something interesting when I checked my database for criminals that were known to have owned this type of gun and one name popped up. ”
“Good, let me have a look at what you found out.”
“Hmm. Shooterelli. It says here that he’s part of the Queens mob. And I see you’ve traced the license plate of the car Monroe was taken away in. The car is registered to a Tony Signorello, also known as Tarzan. It states here that he’s a captain in Big Red Fortunato’s mob. Thank you, George. That will be all. You did a good job in researching this for me.” When George left the room, Reynolds tilted his chair back and looked at the ceiling, wondering why, other than the fact that Marilyn was a very beautiful woman, why would Big Red’s mob want to get involved in this little drama? What’s in it for them? he mused. He looked over at his desk, reached over, clicked a button on his intercom, and asked Charles to come into his office. “Sit down, Charles. Tomorrow morning at nine a.m., have the helicopter standing by on the roof. We’ll take it to New York. We’ve had a little setback. It seems that out effort to capture Miss Monroe was thwarted by some men, members of Big Red Fortunato’s mob, who happened to be there when Miss Monroe’s bodyguard was killed. According to our records, Fortunato’s business is being run from his club in Queens. Tomorrow, we’ll take some men and visit the club. We’ll ask whoever is in charge why he’s sticking his nose in federal business and protecting Miss Monroe.”
Red confided in Marilyn. “I’m going to show you something that was built for my protection. By showing this to you, I’m weakening my position because very few people know that what I’m about to show you exists.” He led her past Angelo, who was busy working, and he opened the entrance to the secret room and escorted her inside. Angelo noticed Red escorting Marilyn into the room and he shook his head, muttering something under his breath in Italian.
Marilyn was impressed with the cleverness of how the secret room was constructed. “Is this where you stayed when you said that you used it that one time?”
“Yes. I was near death and this room kept me safe. It was the only thing that kept me alive. That, and my friend Moose.”
“Moose? What colorful names your friends have.”
Red’s mood suddenly changed and he snapped at her. “Yeah, well it fits them.”
She noticed the abrupt change in his mood. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
As fast as his mood changed, it returned to normal. “Forget about it. I know what you meant.”
“Can I ask what happened to you?”
“I’ll be happy to tell you about it, but not right now.”
Piss Clam’s voice came through the intercom. “Boss. Angelo wants to have a few words with you.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there.”
“You’ll have to excuse me for a few moments while I talk to Angelo.”
“Can I leave the room with you?”
He thought about it for a moment then nodded. “Yes. For now, you’re free to leave the safe room. But tomorrow morning, you can’t leave the room no matter what you hear. You must stay in this room. You will be safe here. The room is soundproof and no one can enter the room without knowing the proper sequence to the combination.”
“What is it, Angelo?”
“Don Fortunato. I will-ah be finished here soon-ah. I-ah understand that-ah you are rebuilding the Starlight Club-ah. I wanta to help-ah you. With your permission, I will make-ah it like it was-ah before.”
“Thank you, Angelo. I was going to ask you to help restore it, but I was going to wait until Artie was finished re-building the club before I asked you to repair the damages that were made to your work. Angelo, if you want to start the renovation now, then why don’t you go to the Starlight Club and see what needs to be done?”
Angelo smiled and said, “I leave-ah now, padrone, and I start-ah work. Don’t-a worry. When I finish-a, you never know it was-ah rebuilt-ah, caus-a it will look-a as good-ah as new.”
When Angelo left, Marilyn turned to Red. “Can I ask you who that old man is?”
“Angelo? He’s a great builder who came here from Italy. He learned his trade from the great masters. He’s retired now, but he’s agreed to do some work for me when I need him. He built the safe room for me and he renovated this place. It was very dreary before he refinished it. And he made the Starlight Club’s main ballroom something special, something very memorable.”
“Why did he call you Don Fortunato instead of simply ‘Red’?”
“He’s from the old school where they believe in respect. He shows me respect by calling me Don Fortunato. I keep telling him that we’re not in the old country, and there’s no need to address me as Don Fortunato. I keep telling him ‘Red’ is fine, but he insists on reverting to the old ways.”
Marilyn gave a sympathetic nod. “He treats you with such respect.”
“Yeah, well, I did him a few favors and he never forgot it. Have a seat at the table and I’ll have Pi-uh-Jackie bring you a fresh cup of espresso. Do you like Italian coffee?”
“Yes. I’d love some.”
“Jackie!”
“What is it, boss?”
“Make us a fresh pot of espresso. When it’s ready, bring two cups and whatever is left in the bottle of Sambuca on the shelf above the bar. Oh, and see if there’s any biscotti left.”
“You got it, boss. One pot of espresso coming up.”
Red looked around the room, shook his head, and smiled at Marilyn. “Those guys eat me out of house and home. They would eat this table and probably the chairs too if I turned my back on them.” Then, he walked over to her and said, “I’m sorry I don’t have any better place for you to stay at. If the Starlight Club was finished, you could have stayed in real class. I have a few homes that you could stay in, but I don’t want to take any chances because you may not be safe in them. The room you’re in now is the safest place you could ever stay in.”
She looked admiringly at Red. “Please don’t apologize. This place is lovely and, like you say, it’s safe. You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t thank you enough. You saved my life, you bought me clothes, and now you’re protecting me and you’re putting yourself and your men in danger.”
“It’s nothing. Marilyn.” He looked at his watch. “I have to leave you for a little while, but I’ll be back soon, so please excuse me. I have to catch up to Angelo and discuss the renovations I want him to make on the Starlight Club. I have to tell him where to star
t and what I want him to do.
As Red left, Piss Clam came into the room holding a tray with a pot of espresso and brought it to the table. The tray had a small bottle of Sambuca and two cups on it. “I’ll be right back with the biscotti.” He put the tray down and was about to leave, but Marilyn stopped him.
“Could you stay a moment, Jackie? I’d like to ask you something.”
“Sure.” He privately felt very special talking to the beautiful actress, but he tried not to show it. “What did you want to ask me?”
“I was curious about what type of business Red is in?”
Piss Clam absently ran his hand through his hair while he thought of how to answer her. “Well, he has a number of car dealerships, he owns a few banks, some houses, warehouses, apartment houses, a movie production company, a security company, and a lot of other businesses that I can’t remember offhand.”
“I see,” she replied. “The men seem to respect him. They even appear to admire him.”
Piss Clam smiled. “Yeah. Red’s the best boss a man could have. All the guys think the world of him. They’d do anything for him. They’d die before they’d let what happened to him before, happen again.”
Marilyn was about to ask that very same question, but Jackie opened the door to that line of information for her. “What exactly happened to Red that they don’t want to see happen again, Jackie?”
“Federal goons blew up the Starlight Club and one of them shot Red five times. Most likely under orders from the attorney general. If it wasn’t for Moose, he would have died.”
Marilyn knew Bobby Kennedy well. She knew he was ruthless when it came to his job and while he always put on the charm when in her presence, she never realized how cruel he could be. She now knew why Red reacted to her making fun of Moose’s name and she felt terrible about it. “If I may ask, what exactly did Moose do for him?”
“Moose was with him in the building when the bombs went off. They made it to the rear exit where one of Lonegan’s killers was waiting for them. He shot Red five times in the chest for no reason and without a warning. He wanted to kill Red in cold blood without showing him any mercy. Red’s body is healed now. So this morning, he went to see his lawyer to try and get his name cleared and he just happened to be there when those men tried to kill you. It was pure luck that he happened to be there at the very moment you needed him. He had just finished visiting his lawyer, just like you was gonna do. It was destiny.” He looked at Marilyn and said quietly, “Red always says that you can’t fight the forces of destiny. It was destiny that put him there at the exact moment you needed him.”
Marilyn picked up her coffee cup, took a sip, and asked him, “And he paid his lawyer a retainer to work on getting his name cleared?”
Piss Clam nodded his head vigorously. “Yes, he can’t really be himself until he can clear his name.”
“And will his name be cleared?” she asked.
“Not now, not while this administration is in office. They won’t allow the illegalities of what the attorney general did be made public. I think we’ll have to wait for Nixon to get elected before we can get justice for Red.” Piss Clam stopped talking. Then he rubbed his chin, looked sheepishly at her, and said, “You know, I think I’m talking too much. Maybe I told you more than I should have. I don’t think Red would appreciate me telling you what I just did. You know, me telling you about his private life. Do me a favor and let’s keep it between the two of us, okay?”
Marilyn smiled. She liked these men and felt comfortable around them. They told you the way it was and didn’t blow smoke where the sun don’t shine, telling you what you wanted to hear, trying to curry your favor. “Sure, let’s keep it between the two of us. It’ll be our secret.”
Piss Clam smiled. He liked this gal.
CHAPTER 10
The following morning, there was a loud, persistent knock on the front door of the Corona Gentleman’s Club. Piss Clam went to answer it and found five federal agents standing outside in front of the door in the bright sunlight, looking at him. Now he knew who was doing the banging. The agents pushed Piss Clam out of the way and rushed past him into the darkness of the club, entering like thugs before allowing their eyes to adjust to the dim light. If their eyes had adjusted, they would have seen Red’s men sitting at the tables, hidden in shadows. Once inside the club, Emil Reynolds ordered Piss Clam to bring Tarzan to him now. The fifty men sitting at tables all rose at the same time. The federal agents, always alert for something unexpected to happen, pulled their guns out, and pointed them at a surprised Piss Clam, who raised his arms defensively as he attempted to shield himself from their guns. It would have seemed comical if it weren’t for the fact that at the same time that Piss Clam raised his hands, all fifty of Red’s men pulled out their guns and pointed them at a very surprised Reynolds and his crew.
Red knew Reynolds would make a move soon, so he telephoned Trenchie late last night and told him all that happened while they were in Washington. Then they discussed what they would do if Reynolds were to visit them. Trenchie arrived at the club early this morning. He saw the feds push their way past Piss Clam and into the club and he didn’t like it. He walked directly over to Reynolds.
“Who the fuck are you?” Reynolds showed him his federal ID. Trenchie smirked. “You can shove that badge up your fuckin ass because that ain’t buying you a ticket in here. You have some set of balls, barging into a private men’s social club and pointing your guns at this man here.” He pointed at Piss Clam.
Reynolds put up his hands in mock surrender. “You have us all wrong. We’re not here to cause trouble and we’re not here to arrest anyone. We’re investigating the disappearance of Marilyn Monroe. We know you have her. My witness wrote your car’s license plate down as you drove away with her. We’re here to take her back with us for her own safety, that’s all. Just hand her over to us and we’ll leave. Now where is she?”
Trenchie looked him right in the eye. “Why would the government go to all the trouble to invade a private club just to take a movie star home? I don’t get it. Well, you came all this way for nothing. She’s not here and even if she was, I would never turn her over to you people.”
Reynolds wasn’t used to being talked to this way by anyone, and he blanched. “Be careful, Trenchie.” He saw Trenchie hesitate for a moment. “Yes! I know your name. You shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve seen your picture, and I’ve read your file. The last thing you want to do is to start a war with us because that’s one war you wouldn’t win.”
Trenchie was ripping mad. “Listen, you mother fuckin pompous piece of shit. If you read my file, you know that if you ever started a war with us, I’d personally finish it. No matter how hard you came down on us, no matter how many men of ours you killed or arrested, I’d find you … and then you fuckin better believe that I’d cut you up in little pieces and eat you for dinner and that’s a promise. The last thing you want to do, Mr. Federal Man, is to start a war and fuck with us because no matter what happens to us, you’d be a dead man.”
Marilyn was frightened. She didn’t think Jack or Bobby, or even Reynolds for that matter, would go this far. Maybe it wasn’t Jack; maybe it was all Bobby’s doing. She realized now that she shouldn’t have threatened the president with what she knew. It was foolish, but she had been mad. They used her like a plaything. She was hurt and she wanted to hurt them back. She hadn’t realized that by threatening the president she would be in danger. She thought because she was a movie star that she was too famous to be killed. Looking back, she could see how foolish and naïve she was and how dangerous these men are. The only thing standing between her and the Kennedys was this stranger Red. Because of the cameras and microphones spaced throughout the outer room, the picture and voices that came streaming into the safe room were clear. The safe room was soundproof and Marilyn could see and hear on the monitor what was happening. She sat safely a few feet beyond the wall, listening to the big scary man clearly threaten Reynolds. He was real tough and h
e wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him or the federal agents.
Reynolds was stunned by the audacity of the man. He looked around at the other men in the room and could tell that they weren’t intimidated either, so he took a different approach. “Look, we’re getting off on the wrong foot,” Reynolds pleaded. “I told you before we’re not here to harass you. It’s not you fellas that we’re after and we don’t want any trouble. We just want Miss Monroe. We’re just here to make sure she gets back home safely.”
Trenchie scrunched into a grimace, which was his way of smiling. “Why don’t I believe you? A bunch of federal assholes looking to escort a frightened actress home. Hell, we could do that ourselves if we had her, which we don’t. Why would we need you to do that? Even if we did have her, and I’m not saying we do, and we gave her to you, I don’t think she’d make it out the door alive with you Keystone Cops protecting her.” Trenchie abruptly changed the subject. “Do you have a search warrant?”
Reynolds shook his head, realizing his mistake in underestimating these men. “No … I don’t have a warrant, but I will get one. Then I’ll be back.”
“Don’t bother. You have my permission. Search the building, and if you find her anywhere on the property … you can take her with you.”
Reynolds was surprised, but he gave Trenchie a slight nod, acknowledging the small courtesy he extended him. “Go ahead, men. You two search the second floor. You men search the basement and make sure you search the rest of this floor. I want you to do a thorough search of the building, then report back to me when you’ve finished.”
A short time later, the men reported to Reynolds. “She’s not here, sir.”
“You checked everywhere?”
“Yes, sir. We even checked the roof.”
“Could she be hidden somewhere in the building that we’re not aware of? Perhaps a room in the basement that you might have missed?”