by Joe Corso
Maria was hesitant, but she did as Swifty asked and sat at the table – and while she tried hard not to be, she was very uncomfortable. In her domestic world, the help never sat at the dinner table with their employers; it just wasn’t done, but she liked Swifty and Moose, and she didn’t want to offend them, so she sat and at the table and ate dinner with them. But she made up her mind that if she was ever asked to sit at the dinner table with them again, she would see to it that she was always busy with her other chores.
After dinner, the men walked out on the balcony where Moose lit up a cigar. Maria didn’t have to be told to prepare the strong, aromatic Italian coffee that the boys loved. When it was ready, she sat the pot of espresso down on the little table and poured a cup for each of the men. There was just enough for the five of them. “I’ll go put another pot on. It will take a little while. When it’s ready, I bring it out,” she said. When she left, Swifty asked Gonzo if he made the call to the hospital to see how Hoffmann was doing.
“Yeah, I called earlier and talked to the nurse. She told me he was getting stronger every day, but the phone call ended by her telling me that the doctor said he would never fight again. He was still in therapy when I called, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. I’ll give him a call later. I just wanted to put his mind at ease and let him know that we’re going to put some money aside for him.”
Henri chimed in, “Don’t forget to tell him that me and Swifty are in on this too.”
“Yeah,” Swifty said. “We’re getting pretty good purses now and with the three of us donating our next purse to him, he should be able to invest it in a little business that’ll provide an income for him to live on.”
“Maybe we should be the ones to buy a business for him,” Gonzo said.
“Nah!” Swifty added. “What do we know about buying a business? We wouldn’t know what kind of business to get him. We don’t know what sort of business he would like. I think the best thing to do is to give him the money and leave it for him to decide what to do with it.”
Henri agreed. “Yeah I think that’s best. We’ll just give him the money and let him decide what to do with it.”
Maria, who was busy cleaning the table, couldn’t help overhearing the concern in their voices. She was impressed with the way these three men worried about the health of a stranger, worrying about how he would earn enough money to live on in the future.
Swifty had a thought and shared it with the boys. “Maybe Red could pull some strings with the union and get him a civil service job somewhere. At least he’d have a pension that way. What do you guys think?”
Gonzo nodded. “I like it. This way he would have a pension and he could buy a house with the money we give him or it could give him some an extra income from the interest on the money if it’s invested it wisely.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna speak to Red about getting him a job and I’ll ask him if he’ll do us a favor and invest our money for Hoffmann. Red will handle it the right way because we don’t know anything about how to invest money. If he invests it for us, we won’t have to worry about screwing it up. Do we all agree on this?” The three men nodded their heads. “Good, I’ll call him and tell him to hold back our earnings for our next fight and have him invest it in one of his funds in Hoffman’s name.” The coffee came. The fighters and Moose poured a shot of Sambuca in their coffee, and the three of them raised their cups and made a toast to Hoffmann’s return to health.
CHAPTER 19
Red hung up the phone, shaking his head and smiling. Marilyn asked him what made him smile. He looked sideways at her. “That was Swifty,” he said. “The boys decided that since Hoffmann can’t fight any longer, they asked me to hold their purses for their next fight. They want to donate their purses to Hoffmann and they asked me if I would invest their money in Hoffmann’s name. They’d like him to have an income later on so he won’t have to worry about money when he gets old. Then they asked if I could get him a civil service job. Well, that’s no problem. When he’s well enough to work, I’ll see that he gets a civil service job. That way, he’ll have a pension. They said that their original plan was to give their purse money to him and let him decide what he wanted to do with it, but then they thought of me and changed their mind because they knew it would be better if I invested it for them. In a way, it’s better if I do that for them.”
“Why is that?” Marilyn asked.
“Because once I invest their money for them, Hoffmann won’t be able to get at it. Remember this, Marilyn. You have to put your money where you can’t get at it because if you can, you will. You’ll always find a reason to spend your money. I’m gonna put it where he can’t get at it, this way his money will multiply each year and when he’s older, he’ll have some serious money to fall back on.”
“How much money are we talking about?” Marilyn asked.
“Well, Henri is the reigning welterweight champ and Swifty is the number one ranked middleweight in the world. For his next fight, he’ll be fighting for the Middleweight Championship of the World and Gonzo is now the number three-ranked heavyweight in the world, so their paychecks will be substantial. When added together, it should total over one hundred thousand dollars. So it’ll be a nice nest egg for Murphy.”
“Wow. I didn’t think fighters made that much money.”
“Most don’t. The average fighter makes chump change. It’s the ranked fighters that make the money and that’s only if they have an honest manager to watch over their money for them. There are a lot of unscrupulous men in the fight game, but my fighters are lucky because they have me to protect their money for them. My three guys are all high in the rankings now and soon they’ll all be champs, so they’ll make some serious dough in the next few years. Enough money talk. You must be hungry. Come on, I’m taking you to Tufaro’s where they serve delicious homemade Italian food made by Old Man Tufaro himself. Besides, I like eating there when I’m not having dinner at the Starlight Club because it’s a change of scenery and we’ll be among friends there.”
Reynolds’ men wouldn’t start following Red’s men until tomorrow or the next day. Red felt that Marilyn would be safe for the next few days and she didn’t have to remain in the safe room. Red had purposely stayed away from the Starlight Club’s construction site, but tonight he couldn’t avoid it. He had to pass the Starlight Club to get to Tufaro’s Restaurant. His intention originally was to drive past the club, but when he saw how much had been done to it, he pulled over to the curb and stopped in front of the club.
“Why did you stop?” Marilyn asked.
“Come on. I want to see how the inside is coming along.” He stepped out of the car and looked at how nicely the work was progressing. “I had no idea they had gotten this much done.”
The walls were up, as were the second floor and roof. He opened the front door, thinking it may be locked, but it opened easily and he walked in. The front bar was completed. The walls and ceilings were up, and even the egg crate contraption that hung from the ceiling that held the wine and liquor glasses for the bartenders’ easy reach was completely restored and new floors had been laid. He walked past the bar and into the foyer and was pleased to see that the inner bar was rebuilt and restored to its original look. With the Gallo and Profaci war going on, Crazy Joey Gallo with Red’s permission ordered a few of his men to stay at the Starlight Club so they all couldn’t be killed at the same time. Red asked his contractor friend Artie to convert the foyer to an inner bar. He wanted an area for his customers to enjoy a drink in private while they waited for a guest, or a table to be prepared for them. He didn’t want his customers to be intimidated by the hard Gallo men who had settled in the front bar, so he had the inner foyer converted to a bar and he closed it off to keep it private. It too was completed, except that it needed painting. He smiled as he noticed that his office had been rebuilt just the way it used to be. The ballroom was all lit up, so he walked through the doors and saw Angelo working on the third column. The first
two columns had been repaired back to their original splendor; the explosions that had destroyed the ballroom hadn’t affected the fourth. Angelo was busy working on the one remaining column. “Why are you still here Angelo? Go home and get something to eat. Wait! I have a better idea. Go get washed up. You’re coming with us to Tufaro’s and tonight you’re gonna have a good home cooked Italian meal.”
“But, Padrone, I’m-ah almost finished. Just-ah little more work.”
“No more, Angelo. Are the bathrooms working yet?”
“Yes-ah. Artie fix-ah today.”
“Then go and get washed. We’ll wait here for you.” Angelo started to protest, but Red stopped him. “Now don’t argue with me. I’m your boss and I’m ordering you to wash up.”
“But-ah I have-ah no clothes for dinner.”
“Then you’ll come with us the way you are. We don’t mind, do we, Marilyn?”
“No, not at all.”
“See! Now go get washed up and we’ll wait for you here.” Angelo reluctantly put down his tools and headed for the bathroom to wash up. While she was waiting, Marilyn looked around the large room and couldn’t help marveling at how beautiful it was, and the room wasn’t even completed yet. “I remember this room from the two movies that were made here. I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was then, and here I am, probably standing where the cameras had filmed it.”
Red pointed to a spot ten feet further back and said, “There’s where one camera was positioned. I’m really pleased with how nice it’s coming. I really thought it would have taken a lot longer to get this much completed.” Then he thought about it. “I should have expected this. I have a great crew working on it. My construction foreman, Artie, is a friend of mine from the neighborhood and I’m fortunate to have Angelo working with him and doing the finishing touches. The old man’s a creative genius.” Just then, the old man walked back in. “Come on, Angelo, your car’s waiting.”
When Red walked into Tufaro’s with Marilyn on his arm, she looked every bit the movie star. She was dressed in one of Rene Dumas’ stunning dresses. Angelo tagged along quietly behind them. Seeing the famous movie star enter Tufaro’s, the place buzzed with excitement. Old Man Tufaro proudly guided the couple to a private table. Old Man Tufaro was personally indebted to Red for bringing the glamorous movie star here for dinner at his restaurant. He did a very good job of acting as if she were just another customer and not the movie star she was. He treated her professionally, but with deference. Customers who were fortunate enough to be in the restaurant for dinner this evening were in for a treat. They could tell their friends that they had dinner in the same room as Marilyn Monroe, who sat at a table near them. Fans came over for her autograph and she was very gracious about it. She signed autographs and even posed for pictures with those fortunate to have a camera with them. Old Man Tufaro asked Marilyn if she would pose for a picture with him, which she graciously did. Red was glad she took the picture with Tufaro because he knew the old man was not only a great restaurateur, he was also a very shrewd businessman. He’d use that photo in all of his future advertising.
After dinner, Red drove Angelo home and took Marilyn to the Zebra Club, where they shared a private table in the rear of the bar. Jake, the owner, walked over and paid his respects to Red, and he immediately recognized Marilyn. He knew who she was, but these guys weren’t impressed with famous people. They either liked you or disliked you for what you were, not for who you were. He hardly looked at her as he asked Red, “How are you feeling, Red? My God, you had us all worried. But you look like your old self again. What can I get you folks?”
Red said, “I’m going light tonight, Jake. Just a tap beer will do.”
Jake looked at Marilyn. “How about you, young lady?”
Young lady? Even though she just met Jake, she loved him for saying that. It had been quite a while since anyone flattered her by calling her a young lady. She gave Jake a dazzling smile and said, “I’m in the mood for a refreshing gin and tonic, but make it a good gin.”
Jake laughed out loud. “With Red as your date, do you think I’d give you anything but my best?” He turned and walked to the bar to prepare the drinks.
“What did he mean by that remark?”
Red smiled again. “Well, now. Jake knows how particular I am and he worries that I won’t be satisfied with anything ordinary, so he always brings my guest and me the best he has. This way, he doesn’t have to worry about not satisfying me. Does that make sense to you?” It was double talk but she loved it. She was having the time of her life and she wasn’t doing anything special; it was this man who made her feel special. Even though she was very famous, she was still a woman who needed to feel special. She knew she was beautiful, but she never felt special. Outwardly, she appeared to her adoring fans to be in control of who she was, but inwardly, she was frightened and insecure. When she was with Red, he gave her confidence and made her feel special. He, like Jake, wasn’t impressed with her as a movie star. Instead, he liked her as a person and that made all the difference in the world to her. The more time she spent with Red, the more she wanted to be alone with him again. She enjoyed their first night together and she wanted more nights like that. She hoped that he’d come to her room again tonight.
CHAPTER 20
Red was experiencing one of the happiest days he had in many years. His contractor, Artie, informed him that the entrance and front bar of the Starlight Club were finished. The ballroom was nearing completion and he figured he’d have the Starlight Club completed and ready to open in about two weeks. The major part of the work was finished. Now it was Angelo’s turn. He had the columns up, the murals painted, and his last-minute finishing touches were now being applied. He would be finished with his restoration before the two-week deadline and then the club would be ready for the grand opening. What made Red happy was that now he could conduct his business from his office here at the Starlight Club as he used to do.
The following morning, Red led Marilyn out through the secret tunnel that Artie built for him, which led from the Corona Gentleman’s Club to the empty house he owned on the street behind the club. He had asked Artie to build the tunnel after Lonegan’s men found out that he owned that house and they assigned a surveillance team to watch it day and night. Now Red could move between buildings without being seen. Red took the Cadillac out of the garage and drove the short distance to the Starlight Club. He spotted the government car parked across 111th Street. He drove past the club and parked up the block. Then, he and Marilyn walked back towards the Starlight Club, but they ducked into an alley a few houses away from the club. Walking through back alleys, they entered the club through the back door. The intrigue captivated Marilyn.
Red had been busy collecting all of his business files and books in his office at the Corona Gentlemen’s Club, which were now placed in the trunk of his car in preparation for them to be brought to the Starlight Club. Meanwhile, his men were busy getting the Club ready to open. Tarzan brought in five vending machines, including a cigarette machine, shuffleboard, two game machines, and a very expensive jukebox, which he placed in the front bar. Red checked his office and it met with his approval; it was every bit as serviceable as it was before it was destroyed.
He walked over to Piss Clam and told him that when he finished serving them he wanted him to watch the black Ford parked across the street with the cops in it. “If they get out of their car and head this way, give me a heads up. I don’t want the feds to find me here. Come on,” he said to Marilyn. “Let’s sit at my favorite table.” Then he took her hand and led her toward the outer bar to his table, where they sat down. Piss Clam brought two coffees. After he set them on the table, he dragged a stool from the bar and found a spot near the front window with a good view of the black Ford and he kept his eyes glued on it. “It’s good to be sitting here again,” Red said with a faraway look. “You know, every morning, I used to sit here at this table, drinking my coffee and reading my paper. The sun shines brightly throu
gh this window in the morning, making it easier to read the small print on the Wall Street Journal and the Daily News. I read every word in these papers every morning.” While he was explaining why this was his favorite table, Tarzan came in and asked to see Red alone in his office.
“Something’s come up and I need to talk to you right away.”
Red knew Tarzan wouldn’t interrupt him if it wasn’t urgent. “Excuse me a moment, Marilyn. I’ll be right back.”
Once they were alone in the office and the door was closed, Red asked what the problem was. Tarzan spoke softly so his voice wouldn’t carry beyond the room. “You remember Steve the Horse?”
“Yeah, what about him?”
“He was released from prison a month ago.”
“Yeah, he took the rap like a man and didn’t give anybody up when he went away. We took care of his wife. She got a paycheck every week. So what’s the problem?” Steve the Horse was a soldier in Red’s organization. He was also a congenital gambler who blew a fortune on the ponies. He got himself involved with a Brooklyn crew who robbed the cargo terminal at Kennedy Airport. They thought they got away clean, but one morning he was laying on the couch while his wife was taking a shower, and the front door suddenly was burst open by men using a battering ram. FBI agents swarmed in. They quickly placed Steve the Horse in cuffs while others searched the house. They found his wife in the shower and dragged her by the arm nude into the living room and one of the agents threw a blanket at her. “Put that around you and go get dressed,” he had ordered.
“What happened, Tarzan?”
“Steve wants more money.”
Red shook his head. “His wife gets a very generous check from me every week. What the hell does this guy want?”
Tarzan agreed. “That’s true, but now he’s demanding more. He was drunk the other night and he told Jake that he better get more money or he’ll drop a dime on us. Says he’s got a diary with names and places that could put all of us away for a long time and if we don’t come across with more dough, he’ll go to the cops with it.”