Fahrenheit 1600 (Victor Kozol)

by Jerry Weber

  “Welcome to our home, Victor,” Mike said as he opened the door and ushered Vic and Karen in. Mary came out from the kitchen with her apron and cutting knife in hand to get her first glimpse of her daughter’s new beau.

  “I am pleased to meet you Victor, please feel at home here while I get the meal ready for serving.”

  “Thanks Mr. & Mrs. Schmidt, the pleasure is all mine to be here.”

  “Karen, take Victor into the living room and let him relax for a few minutes while I finish up in here.”

  “Sure mom.”

  With that Karen led Vic across the hall into the living room, where, sitting partially obscured from his view behind a protruding bookcase is an older woman. She is Mary’s great aunt. Victor stares at Sophie who returns the gaze with equal shock and stands from her chair with amazing agility for a person her age, a spry, wiry athleticism Victor had only ever before witnessed in one other elderly woman.

  “He-he-hello, Mrs. Lunitis” stammers Vic.

  “Hello Mr. Kozol.” Sophie responded with a strong, even tone.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “You know my great Aunt Sophie?” Karen asked amazed.

  “We two go way back together in Wilkes-Barre, don’t we Victor?” Sophie said with what Victor can only interpret as an evil leer. “Victor was one of my second floor tenants.”

  “Well, isn’t it a small world!” Karen smiled, clapping her hands together in delight.

  Too damned small, Victor thought, I’ve got to keep the old bat from talking too much.

  “Yes, the best gosh-darned landlady I ever had, too. Okay, she’s the only landlady I’ve ever had, but your Aunt Sophie, she’s ...”

  Victor wondered how long he can keep up the effusive babbling and opts for a diversionary tactic.

  “Well, I guess I better go wash my hands before we start in on this wonderful supper I’ve been promised.”

  Sophie didn’t reply, but the cat-that-caught-the-canary smile remained.

  Sophie will say no more, but the coolness between her and Vic is evident to Karen. Vic knew his dinner was ruined, for Sophie may not destroy him over the dinner table, but when he and Karen leave, it’s ‘damn the torpedoes’. How to come out of this in one piece is going to be a new Houdini act for Vic. For the present, Vic just sits quietly in the living room talking pleasantries with Mike and Karen.

  The dinner was very good, and after some more get acquainted talk Karen and Vic took their leave. Sophie was in the kitchen helping Mary clean up and do the dishes.

  “So, you were Vic’s landlady back in his college days?”

  “Ver do I begin, Victor seems like such a nice Polish boy, but behind that smiling face is a devil. He had the most wild and damaging parties in my building.”

  Sophie related to Mary how the co-ed fell off the fire escape late one evening and finally how she evicted Vic after her kitchen ceiling fell in from the flood he caused. She spares nothing and even embellishes a few details with a dramatic flourish.

  “Victor’s father did pay for all the damage, but the mess was terrible,” Sophie recounted. She finishes, with “Victor flunked out of Wilkes.”

  “Well Sophie,” Mary said, “he was young and wild once, we can only hope that now he runs a business and is older and more settled.”

  “I don’t know how he is now, but a few years ago, I would not want him around our family.”

  “He doesn’t seem to have any stopping point built in and he never seems to regret anything that goes wrong. I don’t know Mary, it’s not my decision, but maybe Karen can find another man. If I were you and Mike, I would have Victor investigated to see how settled he really is.”

  Mary doesn’t want to tell her aunt that she already did some preliminary checking on Vic but couldn’t find anything out of order.

  Kirby Hall, Wilkes University

  Statue of John Wilkes

  Chase Hall Wilkes University

  Luzerne County Courthouse, Wilkes Barre

  Lackawanna River at Duryea

  Holy Rosary Church

  Main Street, Duryea

  South Main St. Wilkes-Barre

  Max Rosen center, Wilkes University

  Wilkes Library

  Stegmaier Brewery, Wilkes Barre

  Weckesser Hall, Wilkes University

  Stegmaier Mansion, Wilkes Barre

  Breiseth Hall Wilkes U

  St. Mary's Polish Nat'l Church

  CHAPTER 27

  Fat Joe

  Many think that the crime syndicates in New York and elsewhere are constantly fighting turf wars. These organizations or “families” as they are called deal in all types of illegality including drugs, prostitution, gambling, garbage pickup, commercial laundries, and a whole host of other activities. The syndicates act much like public corporations, complete with an established hierarchy and strict rules to be abided by. They do risk management, recruitment, accounting, and all of the things you would think a large business does on a daily basis. The big difference is that you won’t find any detailed or published financial reports as you would with most public companies. They share another trait with the legit companies.

  They sometimes both engage in monopolistic practices, by carving up the territories into areas of influence. They claim certain territories where they are strongest and cede other areas where they don’t have manpower or interest to another syndicate. This has, for years, kept the interfamily wars down to some small brush fights. Only rarely will there be serious upheavals of violence between the syndicates.

  Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn was one of these dividing lines between two families. On the north side, Carlo Dellveccio’s family operated, while on the south side of the street, the Rugocci family was in charge. No one knows how long this arrangement prevailed, but it had proven profitable to both families. We all know how keeping discipline in any venture is an imperfect work in progress, sometimes needing fine tuning.

  In one particular four square block area, Joe Marucci was in charge for the Rugoccis. He is a mid-level operator sometimes called an ‘earner’ controlling several ‘bag men’ (collectors) and ‘runners’ (money carriers). Joe was not much for running himself, as he was five foot eight and went over three hundred and fifty pounds. He usually sat wedged in his chair in an office behind a small pizza restaurant right on Flatbush Avenue. For whatever reason, Joe’s territory is slow this month. His girls are not finding the “johns” at night, the betting is down, and even the drugs are not selling at the rate they normally do. What to do?

  Joe sees that across the Avenue there is not much going on. Maybe the Dellveccio guys are on vacation; maybe they lost men and can’t man the street anymore. Who knows? All Joe sees is at least a temporary opportunity to send some of his men and girls one hundred feet across Flatbush Avenue and start working the streets over there. Joe knows he should clear this with Marco Rugocci, his boss, but if he says no, then Joe has to report the weak sales and take the heat for that. So, Joe decides to take the matter into his own hands. He sends four of his guys over to distribute drugs through the ‘crack heads’ who actually do the street sales. He will see what happens and then dispatch the girls to solicit for prostitution next.

  For about two weeks, Joe’s guys are making sales in the ‘forbidden’ territory, and there are no repercussions. But on the third week one of Joe’s ‘soldiers’ is severely beaten in an alley behind Flatbush. Worse, some of the drug dealing crack heads can no longer be found on their normal corners.

  Joe now has two choices, he can continue to keep doing business over there, or he can pull back to his side of the Avenue. Joe knows that since he didn’t consult with Marco first, he can’t ask him what to do. Joe decides being a pretty smart guy he is going to keep ‘batting above his average’. He already knows that his counterpart in the Dellveccio family is one Carlos Marini.

  Joe asked Carlos to meet with him and maybe they can smooth over some of the ruffled feathers. Carlos responds, “Sure Joe we can t
alk about splitting up the turf maybe a little bit differently. Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight at Cataldi’s on Third Avenue? Just you and me Joe, that’s how things get done, right, paisano?”

  “I’ll be there at 8:00 p.m. tonight Carlos, see you then.”

  Right on time, Joe waddles in and is escorted by Marco to the rear of Cataldi’s where a private booth is waiting with wine already poured and the first course of antipasto ready to be served. (It is an old tradition in the mob to first have dinner with or allow one to finish their last meal before you take them out). And that is exactly what Marco has planned.

  “Joe, I think we’re a little short of help right now, so maybe we can give you the first couple of blocks in from Flatbush right now. After all we can’t have your men getting into jams like they did last week by being where they shouldn’t have been.” Sure Joe says, “I knew you could agree on letting us have a couple of blocks for now; who knows when you need a favor yourself someday? Enjoy.

  “Bon appetite.”

  With Cannoli and cappuccino served last, Marco says, “Joe let’s go out to my car and we’ll drive the area you had in mind. After we agree on the streets we can shake on it.”

  Joe is ecstatic; he never knew that negotiating between the families could be so easy

  “My Lincoln is behind the kitchen, let’s go out this way.”

  When Joe and Marco get out into the dark alleyway, he is jumped by three of Marco’s boys, knocked unconscious and thrown in the back of a waiting van. A familiar ritual is repeated with the van driving to the docks and an abandoned warehouse at the end of one of the piers. When they get inside it takes four guys to remove Joe from the van and dump him into a chair.

  Splashing him with a bucket of cold water to revive him, Marco says “Did you think we just got off the banana boat Joe? You think you can just move into someone’s territory because you want it? Well Joe, unfortunately it doesn’t work that way, and I’m afraid you flunked your first and last test in management negotiating,” roars Marco.

  Joe is flushed, shaking, and profusely sweating. “Okay Marco, I was wrong, I’ll pull my guys off and we’ll go back to business as usual on our own sides of the street tomorrow.”

  “No Joe, that’s not how this is going to end.” With that Marco pulls out a suppressed 9 mm Glock 19 and puts three shots through Joe’s heart. Next, the call goes out to Vinnie to bring his van, but Marco tells him, “Make sure you ate your Wheaties today.” After much struggling Joe barely fits into the pouch, but the zipper is overstressed and jams trying to close it. Four men struggle with the handles on the pouch as they muscle it into Vinnie’s van for the trip to Duryea. Except for Joe’s weight, it all seemed routine at the time. No one knew that Joe, inadvertently through his overeating, would wreck a scheme that took almost a year to set-up.

  CHAPTER 28

  Fat Joe the Fifth Case for Victor

  A week after the family dinner at the Schmidt’s, Vic and Karen are dining out on a crisp and cool Friday night in Old Forge at Verna’s; another one of the many fine restaurants in this town of eateries.

  Karen tells Vic, “You know Auntie Sophie wants my parents to do a full investigation of you; you must have really made some impression on her when you were at college.”

  With that a chill goes down Vic’s spine, an investigation, even if they are not serious, sets off alarm bells throughout his brain.

  “Why would they do that Karen? I’m just a small town funeral director trying to make a living like everyone else. Look, I admit I was pretty crazy in college. Your Aunt and I used to mix it up regularly over the weekend parties in my apartment. But it was just the old “sowing your wild oats thing.” There was nothing sinister or criminal, just a bunch of college kids for the first time away from home letting off steam. That’s not who I am now, we all mature and leave that lifestyle behind. At least I sure did.”

  “Don’t be so defensive Vic, I know what college was like. I just didn’t have it as easy as you because I had to live at home and commute every day to classes. But you know the older generation will never look the other way when they see the type of carrying on that students do. It’s okay with me Vic, I didn’t even know you back then. You don’t have to justify your actions from ten years ago, just what you do now.”

  But for the first time Victor’s outburst about his past leaves Karen feeling a bit uneasy, Does Vic protest too much?

  Her mind then turns to the great unknown about Vic. Where does he get all of the money he seems to never run short of? Is it an inheritance; is his funeral business actually better than it seems to Karen? Who is Vic’s secret financial angel? Karen dated more than a couple of guys in her time, and none ever had the endless resources of Vic. There was always that time the guy was short and she would go ‘Dutch treat’. But never with Vic.

  All of these thoughts were cut short when Vic’s cell phone rang. Vic, to not disturb the other diners and make sure he was out of earshot of Karen, walks over to the lounge to answer it. Karen thinking that it was a death call (it really was that) became all excited.

  Vic says, “Karen we have to finish up here and leave I have business to attend to.”

  “I want to come along,” she says. “I can lift my end of the stretcher; I’ll be your assistant in the removal of the body.”

  Normally if this were just that a ‘death call’, Victor would not have minded taking Karen along. After all there is no law against having unlicensed staff assisting funeral directors in their duties. But, this was not a normal call and Vic was not about to have Vinnie from New York ever come into contact with Karen. She was too quick on the uptake not to realize that this operation Vic was going on was no normal death call pick-up in a small town or for that matter any funeral director. Vic had to think of something quickly, something he rarely had to do lately.

  There was this time at Wilkes University, where he inadvertently invited two different girls to come to his apartment on the same night and party. He knew these girls weren’t into ‘tricycling’, so he had to feign an illness with one, by throwing up in the cafeteria right in front of her. Oh well, not classy, but she got the message and stayed away. But, poetic justice came into play and the other girl didn’t show up either. However, this was far more serious than two acquaintances overpopulating his apartment.

  Flash back to present. “Look Karen, That was Geissinger Hospital, Mrs. Smerkosky just died, but I can’t get her body until tomorrow after the autopsy. There really isn’t anyone to pick up tonight, but I might have to talk to her family later on.”

  “You mean after 10:00 p.m. you are going out to see them?”

  “Oh yes, we funeral directors give our families that kind of personalized service.”

  “OKay, but count me in for next time.” (If only she knew how long it was between death calls in Vic’s business.)

  “Sure, but you can still stay with me at my place tonight.”

  “I’m on for that.”

  Whew, there is one problem with having a steady relationship with someone, they are around a lot. Sometimes they are around just too much. But then Vic thought of the brighter side of cuddling up with this nubile young nurse tonight after his ‘little duty’ was done, it all seemed worthwhile. The second call came while Vic was at his place watching TV with Karen. He knows that the ‘shipment’ is within fifteen minutes of his garage again.

  “It’s time for me to go over and see the family.” says Vic as he heads out the door.

  Vic arrived at the garage, and shortly thereafter the black van arrived and pulled into the darkened space. Vic hits the close button for the overhead door. It again went as planned, the garage swallowed up the van and its contents away from all prying eyes. Tonight something is different; three guys get out of the van, Vinnie and two strangers. It seems that this ‘shipment’ is much heavier than before and would be too much for Vic and Vinnie to muscle into the retort. With two guys in the van at one end and Vic and Vinnie outside trying to take
the head end, they slowly slide Fat Joe out of the van. Then with a crash, the pouch hits the floor. Once more all four guys grab the handles on the side of the pouch and collectively let out a large grunt lifting the body into the retort.

  “What did this guy eat, bricks? He must go over three hundred pounds.”

  No one answers Vic as the now sweaty crew climbs back into the van while Vinnie hands Vic his envelope. Then they depart for New York.

  A body of this size could take over two hours to incinerate and Vic has other plans for the evening. He was determined to not get into bed with Karen already asleep. He tried that once before, she never woke up and he had to go to sleep frustrated. That was not going to happen tonight.

  Vic pushes the buttons to start the retort. This will kick in a program which will ramp up the heat until 1,600 degrees is reached and then maintain that temperature for a set period, and finally go into cool down mode. Vic has to wait to call his ‘fire stop’ code in until later as they know he can’t cremate and dispose of the body that quickly. He hangs around a few minutes to make sure everything is alright then heads back in his Suburban for the funeral home. On his way out he notices an odd jet engine sound coming from the three foot in diameter six foot high galvanized pipe extending through the roof that is the hot air duct that finally releases the purified gases generated in the furnace to the atmosphere.