The Lagotti Family Series

by Leopold Borstinski

  “And the family.”

  “Leave them be for now. They‘ve suffered enough living with the motherfucker all these years. My contact is finding out what the cops found out and he‘ll tell us whether Mrs. Linwood knows anything. If she does, she‘ll decide to hang herself with the shame and the grief. Okay, Naldo?”

  Before breakfast was served, Monroe choked himself on shards of the sheeting from his bed.

  ALICE SAT BOLT upright with a judder and saw Bobby’s hand in hers. The priest droned on. She recalled the cold blast of air as the bullet flew into the room. The incomprehension of the meaning of the breeze. Then the sound of the shot and the gentle splatter of liquid on her face.

  All she could do was close her eyes and squeeze Bobby’s hand tight. The inner yell of pain consumed her again and she escaped from the present by thinking about the past.

  12

  FRANK CHOSE NOT to head to New York after the trouble he got in there last visit. He had no desire to spend time behind bars again even if it was only a few hours. So he tried to imagine where he could go to chase tail and party hard.

  A lascivious grin crossed his face as he remembered a town where three quarters of the population were students: Boston. Term time the place was awash with willing ass and out of season there was still more than enough to go round - if you had green in your wallet and snow in your pocket. You could fuck anything you wanted with that potent mix about your person.

  At Logan, he told himself he‘d keep his word to Alice and find a business opportunity to exploit. First, he needed to get a place to stay and free his mind from the grind of running that casino. He took a taxi to the Boston Merit Hotel and settled into a suite at the five star establishment. His bottomless pit of a credit card funded by his mom delivered the finest of room service meals before he sauntered out of the lobby that evening in search of female companionship.

  Frank considered himself to be showing high moral fiber by wanting to go to a nightclub and buy tonight‘s pussy with cocktails and cocaine. In the past he‘d have had a word with the concierge and stayed in his room. So he sat in the VIP area of a heaving club trying to pick out someone to impress.

  The choice was phenomenal and Frank couldn’t decide which way to look first. The problem was going to be separating the contenders from the crowd. He left the safety of the VIPs and hit the bar. A group of five girls stood nearby and four of them he‘d happily fuck. The fifth one had hair too short, so Frank’d let her suck him off if he had to. He ordered a bottle of vintage champagne, which caught their attention due to the flurry of activity associated with delivering and opening it. As planned.

  “Would you like a glass? Sharing is caring.”

  The prospect of free booze could not be turned away and they eagerly agreed. Forty minutes later and they were dancing. Another quarter of an hour and they sat at his table in the VIP section. Conversation giggled, twisted and flowed until he decided it was time to find out who really wanted to party.

  “Anyone fancy a little something to perk you up?”

  Only Eileen was interested, who was Frank‘s favorite on account of her hot pants, round tits and hair down to her nipples, so he imagined. He ordered the others another bottle of champagne to keep them warmed up and led her away by the hand. Two Jacksons got the attendant to let them into a cubicle in the women’s bathroom.

  A kiss and a squeeze, then he put his finger to his lips and Eileen watched him cut a line and snort it up his left nostril. Then he set up a second and offered it to her. She nodded and held her hair in one hand and sniffed away. Frank smiled and they kissed some more. Then he pushed her downward until she was crouching below him. She looked up at him and grinned. He undid his pants so she could reach his dick. This Ivy League beauty understood the meaning of a fair trade.

  She stayed with him for twenty four hours and then he got bored with her and the two friends who tagged along. The three enjoyed his snow and he pleasured himself inside all of them. The great thing about money is that everyone wants to taste it but even Frank understood pretty ass followed his green, not him, and the fun eventually faded and died.

  A WEEK LATER and student tail stopped interesting Frank. There was too much chase involved with an educated female, besides which he was noticing a burning session when he took a piss. Antibiotics and abstinence were the orders from the hotel doc and that made sense.

  This created a problem: he could spend his daytime looking for business opportunities, but what about the long nights? The answer came to him as he sped across town in a taxi - Chinatown. To be precise, the handful of blocks known as the epicenter of Asian culture was not Frank‘s chief concern. It was the opium dens.

  While his family had built its second fortune out of heroin, he hadn‘t considered the poppy seed as anything relevant to him, but his first foray with opiates in Morocco showed him how wrong he could be. The warmth inside was incomparable - like being blown by a thousand vestal virgins. Only better.

  After a week, during which he hardly left his crib, the madam told him he had to go. His money had run out and his credit card was not accepted in this cash-only business establishment. At the hotel, he made his way up to his suite and phoned Palm Springs.

  “Mama. I love you very much and I need your help.”

  “What is it now dear? Money or a lawyer?”

  “Mama. I‘ll pay you back this time I swear.”

  “Don‘t make promises you have no intention of keeping. You are nothing if you don‘t have your word.”

  Beat.

  “How‘s Boston?”

  “You having me followed?”

  “Who do you think pays your credit card each month? Don‘t be silly.”

  “It‘s a great town and I got connections who can help with our business. Only...”

  “... you need more green before you are able to close the deal.”

  “Speculate to accumulate, you told me.”

  “Throw my words back at me. Nice. So I‘ll do the same to you. I‘ve said this before but today I mean it. If you‘re a man, you‘ll keep your promise. This is the last time you get any money from me. Just don't tell your sister.”

  Beat.

  “And you will pay it back or I’ll treat you like any other debtor. Capiche?”

  Frank had no desire to sleep with the fishes and, perhaps for the first moment in his adult life, he told the truth.

  “You have my word, Mama.”

  “I‘ll wire over the cash later today. Family discount: you get twelve months to return the capital and a tithe in interest.”

  FRANK‘S TIME PARTYING in Spain had not been a total waste as he’d had the smarts to take the ferry to Morocco and investigate what the country had to offer. Local hashish was supplemented with opiates from Afganhistan although sometimes it came from as far away as China.

  He hadn‘t contacted the upper echelons of the trade but he knew well connected guys who‘d deliver him a couple of kilos of product should he so desire. And they were keen to supply into the US as any entrepreneur would.

  This created Frank‘s chance to take Mama‘s scratch and morph it into gold. He might have been to college but deep down he was a street punk and he only took two days to assemble a motley bunch to push his wares onto the streets of Boston. While they sold bags of crystal on street corners, he looked to gain a foothold in the opium dens themselves.

  During the first month, his crew sucked in several beatings as existing suppliers flexed muscles to show the new kid on the block not to fuck with them. But they hadn‘t met Frank before or knew what he was capable of. The boy had a spine of reinforced steel and he refused to back down. If some thug put one of his in hospital, he went out to find the guy and slit his throat personally. He never bothered checking whether the corpse made it to the morgue.

  The second month was easier. His street team had found a groove and had elbowed itself into four blocks of turf to make a living. Wasn‘t much, but it was a good start and offered Frank his first s
cent of income in his life.

  Frank felt positive about earning money for himself and this fed his desire for more. With a spark lit within, he found the grit to focus on securing an opium den. Like all narcotics businesses, they faced two main risks: hassle from the cops and supply drying up. Police were paid off to turn a blind eye to all but the most obvious indiscretions.

  The owners of the dens usually were not the drug runners themselves. For reasons of tradition these were viewed as separate specialist tasks, but Frank didn‘t see it that way. He got himself basement rooms and decked them out ready for some johns. Via his street crew, he found a madam to run the place and some Chinese dudes to keep the peace. With payments to the Police Benevolence Fund, he was set to go.

  The boy figured he didn‘t need to take over anybody else‘s shack because there was plenty of old men wanting to toke on a pipe. Why go to the effort of slamming heads together when you could start operations with no-one noticing or giving you a hard time?

  By June, Frank had three locations owned and two others supplied by his crew. Cash rolled in and he paid back half what he owed to Mama as a sign of goodwill and to show her he was making good on his promise. Besides, he knew soon he‘d be asking his mother for a favor that didn‘t involve money.

  13

  FRANK BELIEVED IN thinking big. The money from opiates would flow freely and coagulate in his pocket. But it wasn‘t enough. The most important thing to him was to be more successful than Alice. The cash coming out of Chinatown was a good start, but nothing greater than that. She took over a casino, so he needed to set up one from the get-go to show Mama how much better he was than the girl.

  From where he stood in the reception area of one of his opium dens, there was a world of possibility opening up to him but it wasn‘t going to be in Boston. Gaming on the east coast centered in Atlantic City so that would be his destination. He spent days treading the boardwalk in AC to find just the right establishment.

  Any place whose name he recognized was of no use to him. Frank needed somewhere that attracted customers but wasn‘t too good at its job. That meant the management would be weak and ripe for a discreet takeover. He discovered his quest one block up on South Michigan Avenue where he came across a broken sign announcing the presence of the Lucky Nugget.

  When he walked into the joint, he saw enough johns at the slot machines to believe the place wasn‘t too far from the main drag. Then he stood and watched roulette tables, poker and blackjack. There was craps going on at the other side of the room but Frank didn‘t have a nose for dice.

  Cards interested him more because there was a skill in finessing your hand. The spin of a wheel or the flip of a numbered cube only required you to calculate the odds. An ordinary pack of playing cards held an infinite set of possibilities to be manipulated by a knowing expert.

  Within thirty minutes of standing in the room Frank spotted four examples of card sharps at work. They were hemorrhaging money to cheats and their own stupidity. He looked round the ceiling to see how many cameras were operating, but either they were exceptionally well hidden or there were none. Frank suspected the latter.

  He exchanged some chips - enough to get him invited to the VIP room on the second floor. A champagne bar at one end and a comfortable mix of different tables for the high rolling aficionado. Frank noted how the only women were dealers. If he ran the joint, he‘d turn this area into a lap dancing club. Men don‘t just want to gamble their lives away, he mused.

  A glass of complimentary sparkling wine inside him and he killed an hour at a poker table. The dealer had fascinating long bright pink nails which took his mind off the game. Or at least they would have done so had he not spent so much time staring at her fulsome cleavage.

  Despite his preoccupation with her breasts, Frank stood up five thousand dollars better off and gave her a purple chip as a tip which he dropped in between her tits. He cashed in his winnings and left the joint.

  The next morning, Harvey Knight took Frank‘s call wondering which precinct he‘d be heading to shortly.

  “No, it‘s nothing like that. I want your advice on buying a casino.”

  “Is this booze talking, or worse?”

  “No man. I‘m deadly serious. I‘ve found a place in Atlantic City but I need your help to buy it. Can we meet up and talk things through?”

  “That where you're based now?”

  “Will be but nowadays I have business interests in Boston. If we pull this off, I‘ll move over here for sure.”

  “Can you get to my office for tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Yep.”

  “See you then. Stay on the line and my secretary will finalize the details.”

  “DOES MARY LOU know what you‘re up to?”

  “Not right now but I wanted to be better informed before I speak to her.”

  “Good decision. Tell me what you expect out of the deal and then we can work out the best route to get you there.”

  Frank explained his idea to run the place but to own the joint too because that‘s where the real money was made. He didn‘t want a salary - he wanted income with capital growth. Harvey listened and sipped his coffee. This boy impressed him and was so much more of a man since they last met.

  “Thing is, I’ll need my name on the gaming license, but my past doesn‘t make me first choice, does it?”

  “You are right. If the owners want to sell and you agree terms, the gaming license could prove sticky. But you are also correct in thinking your mother can help. When you speak with her, remind her that it‘ll be worth dropping a dime to Teddy.”

  “Who?”

  “Teddy. You don‘t need to know any more about him at this point.”

  “And financing? I‘ve got some scratch but it won‘t be enough.”

  “How much?”

  “Low seven figures.”

  “Congratulations. Last time we met, you didn‘t have a cent to call your own and I‘d have bet on you floating down the Hudson before the month was out.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Don‘t take it the wrong way. You‘ve done well. That‘s a positive and I‘m recognizing that in you. If you were still the same mook cracking heads in five-star hotels then you wouldn‘t be in this room today.”

  Frank nodded and thought how far he had come since then.

  “If you think it‘ll help, why don‘t we phone Mary Lou now so she can tell you‘re serious.”

  “How does the call do that?”

  “My meter‘s been running the minute you sat down in this office. The cost of a long distance call is the least of your worries.”

  Harvey beamed at him because the joke was very much on him - but it was a good joke at his expense and one he could afford.

  “Hi Mary Lou. How‘s tricks?”

  Beat.

  “You will never guess who I‘ve got in my office...”

  AFTER FRANK BROUGHT along three members of his crew, the owners of the Lucky Nugget decided staying alive was a higher priority than owning the casino. They chose to exit their family business as quickly as they could so he bought the joint for next to nothing. Teddy Prescott pressed some flesh and the gaming license was safe when the Gaming Board met.

  “Nice guy, Teddy.”

  “Yeah. You should have a beer with him sometime.”

  Frank couldn‘t tell if Bobby was serious, but he didn‘t care because the place was his. First order of business was to hire some watchers to keep an eye on the tables. With security sorted out, he set about being creative with the second floor.

  The previous owners tried to attract wealthier individuals with limited success. The place wasn‘t upmarket enough for real high rollers and it suffered from being a block from the boardwalk where the serious action happened.

  Frank understood what johns wanted in life: to bet a little, drink a little and to chase tail a lot - or as much as they could get away with if they were married. The Lucky Nugget would deliver all that an American male in AC could afford
.

  He was also sufficiently self-aware to understand the last person to run the joint on a day-to-day basis was him. He hated paperwork and was still learning how to keep people onside. His small team in Boston was one thing but a hundred or more in AC? You gotta be kidding. Leonida Acerbi came highly recommended by Mama who had hired him to manage the Lady Fortune four years ago.

  “Personal circumstances prevented him from staying with us longer, but he was a great guy. Kept everyone in line. Motivated the dealers to keep the johns playing. Good fella all round.”

  “What circumstances? Spill. If he‘s going to work for me I need to know all about him.”

  “He left Vegas in a hurry. For reasons I never understood, Leonida started a relationship with the daughter of the Las Vegas sheriff.”

  “Straight out of a Roy Rogers movie.”

  “Don‘t get cute. The old man found out and wasn‘t happy about the situation. The next day when I heard, I didn‘t crack open the champagne either. Sheriff Redneck only found out anything because his fair maiden confessed she was pregnant and Leonida skipped the state line the same afternoon.”

  “Wow.”

  “Turns out the reason she told her pop was because she couldn’t figure out whose it was. She‘d been spreading her legs for several different guys all at the same time.”

  “And you still trust Leonida?”

  “His judgment with women is flawed, but he knows casinos. And he didn‘t spill a single word about our operations to the girl.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “First, we had no trouble afterwards. Second, we interrogated him when we caught up with him the following week.”

  NATURALLY LEONIDA WAS worth his weight in gold and drove the Lucky Nugget into a healthy profit within weeks of his arrival. Frank offered him one piece of advice before he started.