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Havana Nocturne

Page 36

by T. J. English


  The dream was that Havana would be a party that never ended. Instead, it turned out to be one of the great hangovers of all time.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  AS MOST AUTHORS KNOW, THE BIRTHING OF A BOOK IS A strange adventure, with many epiphanies, setbacks, surprises, and long stretches of isolation. This book in particular was for me a leap of faith. From the start, I knew there was a dramatic story to be told. Whether I could unearth the facts and bring that story to life in all its many facets was a daunting challenge. The task took on an added sense of urgency given that the generation of people who lived this story—both Americans and Cubans—are entering the final chapters of their lives. Some of the people I interviewed passed away before the book had been published. I was driven by the knowledge that this was perhaps a last chance to tell the story utilizing sources who actually lived through the events, as opposed to relying solely on archival research or previously published material.

  To make it happen, I depended on the kindness of strangers. I could not have made the necessary connections or discovered key sources without the generosity of many people in Havana, Miami, New York, Tampa, Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., and elsewhere. Most people, I believe, cooperated with me for one simple reason: they wanted to see this story finally told, free of cant, propaganda, and misinterpretation. I hope I have fulfilled that expectation.

  First and foremost, I would like to thank Rosa Lowinger, an esteemed author in her own right, who led me to many important sources in Havana and Miami. Rosa also welcomed me into her Los Angeles home, which is a miniarchive of books, magazines, art, and erotica relating to Cuba in the 1950s.

  I made numerous trips to Havana, each one filled with work-related revelations and tempting diversions. Raquel Carrera and her family were my initial contacts, and I thank them for making me feel at home. Aquiles Jacas was an essential socio and assistant who helped me in ways too numerous to mention. I am also grateful to Aquiles’s father, Manuel Jacas Tornés, a distinguished veteran of the Cuban Revolution, doctor, and writer, who took an interest in my project. Special thanks also to documentary filmmaker Estela Bravo, journalist Marta Rojas, musicologist Helio Orovio, historian Estela Rivas at the Hotel Nacional, and Chef Gilberto Smith Duquesne, president of the Federación de Asociaciones Culinarias de la República de Cuba, who shared his personal memories of Meyer Lansky. Special thanks to Comandante William Gálvez Rodríguez for agreeing to talk with me. And I am also indebted to the indomitable José “Pepe” Rodríguez and his five cats and three dogs.

  For logistical and other kinds of support in Havana I would like to thank the lovely Yuri Moreno and her band at Café Sophia on Calle 23 in Vedado; José Alberto Figueroa; Orlando Brolla; Casa de Moisés Quiñones and Zoraya Lobet on Calle 21 in Vedado; the staff at the Biblioteca Nacional José Martí; and Deysi, secretary at the Conjunto Folklórico Nacional.

  In Miami, I was aided greatly by Cynthia (Schwartz) Duncan, granddaughter of Meyer Lansky, who shared her thoughts and memories to the point where we thought Lansky’s spirit was present with us in the house. She is now the proprietor of a website devoted to the preservation of memorabilia related to her late grandfather. Cuban-born Bernardo Benes is a legend in Miami for his efforts to improve relations between the governments of Cuba and the United States; his willingness to help me out was a great inspiration. Benes led me to Max Lesnick, a veteran of Cuba’s political wars of the 1940s and ’50s and now the voice of Radio Miami. I also must thank Judge Bernard Frank, another legendary Miami figure whose knowledge of South Florida mobsters, entertainers, cops, and politicians goes all the way back to the early 1940s. Special thanks also to Delio Valdes, Gordon Winslow of the Cuban Information Archive, Ed Sherry of the South Florida Research Group, and Zoe Blanco Roca, archivist at the University of Miami Library (Cuban Heritage Collection).

  Another important stop along the Cuban exile circuit was Tampa. Special thanks to Scott M. Deitche, who has written two books on the history of organized crime in Tampa. Scott shared his knowledge, time, and files with me. Also thanks to Chris Ragano, the son of Frank Ragano, longtime attorney for mafioso Santo Trafficante. Among other things, Chris showed me 8-millimeter home movies made by his father in Havana in the 1950s. I also want to thank Henry Beltran, Cookie Garcia, and, most especially, Ralph Rubio, who was an excellent source on all matters relating to Lansky’s Riviera hotel and casino.

  In Washington, D.C., my thanks go out to Fred Romanski and Bill Davis of the U.S. National Archive, at both the Washington, D.C., and College Park, Maryland, facilities. Also thanks to Wayne S. Smith, a former diplomat at the U.S. consulate in Havana and a knowledgeable source on Cuba past and present.

  Some of my most important work took place at my home base in New York City. First, special thanks to Franklin Díaz, who served as translator of documents, Spanish instructor, and all-round compañero. I owe a special debt of gratitude to Richard Stratton and Marc Levin, who screened for me their impressive documentary on mobster Joe Stassi while it was still a work in progress. They also led me to Joe Stassi Jr., to whom I am grateful for agreeing to be interviewed. Special thanks to the El Taller Spanish Workshop in upper Manhattan, where I was able to improve my Spanish language skills. The director of this fine school is Bernardo Palombo, and one maestra and friend to whom I owe special thanks is Libia Gil.

  Thanks also go out to Carl Ginsberg, who took a keen interest in this project; culinary author Beverly Cox, who shared with me knowledge and contacts from her travels in Havana; author Michele Wucker, who offered support at an early stage; Howie Sann, who shared memories of his father, the great crime writer Paul Sann, and his experiences trying to write a book with Meyer Lansky; Vicki Gold Levi, who helped with photos; and author Ned Sublette, whose knowledge of Cuba is vast and willingness to share a beer or two at the Wakamba Cocktail Lounge was an important respite from the computer screen. I also want to offer thanks to the following friends and family for support along the way: my sister Margi English, Joel Millman, Yuri Osorio, in Mexico, Ashley Davis, Ryan Schafer, and, as always, the incandescent Sandra Maria English.

  Finally, there are the people who ushered this book through the publication process. My agents Nat Sobel and Judith Weber were enthusiastic from the start and went above and beyond the call of duty in their efforts to help out in any way they could. Adia Wright at SobelWeber Associates also deserves special mention for her contributions.

  Judith Regan, formerly of Regan Books, was one of the first people to recognize the value in doing this book, and she deserves credit for getting the ball rolling. Cal Morgan guided the book from Regan Books to William Morrow with a steady hand. And I was lucky for the second time in my career to have the services of Anna Bliss as an editor; her attention to detail and feel for the full dimensions of this story helped to turn a rough manuscript into the finished product you now hold in your hands.

  APPENDIX

  Attendees of the Havana Conference at the Hotel Nacional, week of December 22, 1946:

  Anthony Accardo, age forty

  Joe Adonis, forty-four

  Albert Anastasia, forty-three

  Joseph Bonnano, forty-one

  Anthony Carfano, forty-seven

  Frank Costello, fifty-five

  Moe Dalitz, forty-eight

  Charles Fischetti, forty-five

  Rocco Fischetti, forty-three

  Vito Genovese, forty-nine

  Phil Kastel, fifty-two

  Meyer Lansky, forty-four

  Thomas Lucchese, forty-six

  Charles “Lucky” Luciano, forty-nine

  Stephano Magaddino, fifty-five

  Giuseppe Magliocco, forty-eight

  Carlos Marcello, thirty-six

  Mike Miranda, fifty

  Willie Moretti, fifty-two

  Giuseppe Profaci, fifty

  Joseph “Doc” Stacher, forty-six

  Santo Trafficante, thirty-three

  NOTES

  INTRODUCTION

  U.S. business inv
estments in Cuba: Gente de la Semana, American Edition, January 5, 1958.

  The mambo craze: There are many good books on the history and cultural significance of Afro-Cuban music, the best being Cuba and Its Music by Ned Sublette. Of Dámaso Pérez Prado, Sublette writes: “His unique sense of showmanship, combined with a taste for nervous, aggressive dissonance…branded the mambo for all time.”

  “It would not be accurate to say”: Author interview, William Gálvez Rodríguez, Havana, March 8, 2007. As well as being a seventy-five-year-old veteran of the revolutionary 26th of July Movement, Gálvez is a writer, historian, and author of many books, including the novel Otro jinete apocalíptico, a fictional musing on the mobster infiltration of Cuba from the 1920s to 1959.

  Salón de la Historia, Hotel Nacional: The room is not only a veritable museum in honor of the mobsters and celebrities who have stayed at the hotel, it’s also a bar and lounge open to the public.

  1. FEELING LUCKY

  Pearl of the Antilles: The term can be traced to the earliest expeditions of Christopher Columbus, who first landed on the island in 1492. Though the term originally described Cuba, it has since been appropriated by other Caribbean islands, including Haiti, Martinique, and Antigua.

  Luciano’s arrival in Havana: There are differing accounts of the route Luciano took to enter Havana. In Gosch and Hammer, The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano, the mobster is described as having left Naples via freighter for Caracas and then flown to Mexico City before continuing on to Cuba. In Cirules, The Mafia in Havana (I), the author states that Luciano traveled from Italy directly to Rio de Janeiro, though he does not footnote his source. Cirules was the first to establish—presumably through Cuban visa records—that Luciano landed at the airport at Camagüey. A Federal Bureau of Narcotics (FBN) record group (RG) 170, confidential report, March 21, 1947, states that Luciano entered Cuba via Caracas.

  Luciano and Lansky at Grand Hotel: Cirules (I), p. 36.

  “Lucky Luciano Walks”: New York Daily Mirror, March 12, 1946.

  Luciano’s arrival at Hotel Nacional: Author interview, Estela Rivas (official historian of Hotel Nacional), Havana, August 15 and 17, 2006; Gosch and Hammer, p. 305; Cirules (I), pp. 36–37.

  “When I got to the room”: Gosch and Hammer, p. 305.

  Luciano’s mansion in Miramar: FBN RG-170, confidential report, March 21, 1947; Gosch and Hammer, pp. 306–7; Cirules (I), p. 37. Luciano’s mansion and the Miramar neighborhood were viewed by the author on March 5, 2007.

  “I took it easy”: Gosch and Hammer, p. 306.

  Senator Eduardo Suarez Rivas: The Cuban senator being at Luciano’s going-away party aboard the SS Laura Keene is cited in FBN RG-170, confidential report, March 21, 1947; Suarez Rivas’s narcotics connections are cited in the same FBN report and are further detailed in Eduardo Saenz Rovner’s La conexión cubano.

  Luciano–Suarez Rivas relationship: Gosh and Hammer, p. 306; Luciano at the pool with the senator and his family, and also Luciano’s attempts to import a car as a gift for Suarez Rivas’s wife are in FBN RG-170, confidential report, March 21, 1947.

  “Charlie liked pussy”: Author interview, confidential source, 2006.

  Luciano and prostitutes, Hotel Nacional: Author interview, Estela Rivas; Cirules (I), p. 36; Lucky’s taste for whores is also cited in Feder and Joesten, The Luciano Story; Powell, Lucky Luciano; Lacey, Little Man; and Summers, Sinatra: The Life.

  Bernard Frank anecdote: Author interview, Bernard Frank, Miami, May 15, 2006. Ninety-three-year-old Bernard Frank is known to many in Miami as “the Judge” because he served for five years as a circuit court judge. Before that, he was a criminal defense attorney and also the house lawyer for the Fontainebleau Hotel in Miami Beach.

  Prohibition era: There are many fine books on the interplay between Prohibition and organized crime, including John Kobler’s Ardent Spirits and Herbert Asbury’s The Great Illusion, and countless mobster biographies and histories that summarize the era.

  Early Mob forays in Cuba: William Gálvez Rodríguez, Otro jinete apocalíptico, pp. 26–120; Messick, Syndicate in the Sun (I), p. 5; Fox, Blood and Power, p. 33; Deitche, Cigar City Mafia (I), pp. 11–14; Lacey, p. 231; Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, Meyer Lansky, p. 12; Gosch and Hammer, p. 300.

  Al Capone in Havana: Havana Post, March 25, 1930; Schwartz, Pleasure Island, p. 70; Capone’s stay at the Sevilla Biltmore Hotel is today memorialized with framed photos in the lobby of the hotel.

  Cuba in the 1920s: Thomas, Cuba: The Pursuit of Freedom, pp. 328–56; Sublette, pp. 347–78; Phillips, Cuba: Island of Paradox, pp. 1–34; Argote-Freyre, Fulgencio Batista, pp. 23–52.

  Dance of the Millions: As author Rosa Lowinger notes in Tropicana Nights, p. 27, the term comes from the title of a 1916 musical by Cubans Jorge Anckermann and Federico Villoch.

  “Beautiful young whores everywhere”: Stratton, “The Man Who Killed Dutch Schultz,” in GQ, September 2001.

  Creation of “pleasure trust”: Schwartz, pp. 56–62.

  Mayor Jimmy Walker in Havana: Havana Post, January 29 and 31, 1927; Schwartz, pp. 56–57. For a biographical profile of Jimmy Walker with an emphasis on his relationship to the underworld, see T. J. English, Paddy Whacked, pp. 127, 205–8.

  Castellammarese War and early New York Mob history: Bonanno, A Man of Honor, pp. 42–126; Peterson, The Mob, pp. 363–66; Fox, pp. 113–15; Gosch and Hammer, p. 129; Raab, Five Families, p. 89; Lacey, pp. 62–65; Maas, The Valachi Papers, pp. 57–75.

  Luciano taken for a ride: Gosch and Hammer, pp. 117–19; Peterson, pp. 245–46; Feder and Joesten, p. 29; Powell, p. 18.

  Origin of Luciano nickname: Feder and Joesten, p. 19; Powell, p. 11; Gosch and Hammer, p. 119.

  Night of the Sicilian Vespers: There is some difference of opinion about whether the Night of the Sicilian Vespers is underworld fact or legend. The theory was first put forth in early Mob histories and reinforced by Joe Valachi during his congressional testimony of 1963. More recent Mob histories suggest that there is little evidence to back up the claim of multiple murders carried out across the United States.

  Lansky approach to Fulgencio Batista: Lacey, pp. 108–9; Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, pp. 173–74; Gosch and Hammer, pp. 233–34.

  Luciano meeting at Waldorf Towers: Gosch and Hammer, p. 169.

  “It was like droppin’ a bomb”: Gosch and Hammer, p. 169.

  “Lansky and I flew to Havana”: Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, pp. 173–74.

  Cuban tourism revenues: Schwartz, p. 117.

  Thomas Dewey v Luciano prostitution trial: Powell, entire book; Feder and Joesten, pp. 145–71; Peterson, pp. 201–15; Fox, pp. 89–99; Gosch and Hammer, pp. 193–223.

  Lansky early forays in casino gambling: Lacey, pp. 97–111; Messick, Lansky (II), pp. 129–31.

  Molaska Corporation: Messick (II), pp. 67–69; Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, pp. 159–69; Lacey, pp. 79–81.

  Cuba National and National Cuba Hotel Corporation: Russo, Supermob, pp. 94–95.

  Lansky in Havana, 1937–40: Lacey, pp. 108–9; Messick (II), p. 98; Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, pp. 173–74; Schwartz, pp. 100–1.

  Luciano-Lansky alliance with navy intelligence (Operation Underworld): Campbell, The Luciano Project, entire book; Gosch and Hammer, pp. 263–77; Lacey, pp. 116–27.

  “He had obviously been well briefed”: Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, p. 189.

  “[Charlie] could hardly believe his eyes”: Ibid., p. 191.

  Party on the SS Laura Keene: This incident is another that has entered the annals of Mob lore but the veracity of which is debatable. In Gosch and Hammer’s The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano and other books, the gathering is presented as a lavish party, complete with music and prostitutes. Lacey debunks the story in Little Man, citing lack of documentary evidence. All sources agree that there was some kind of gathering; the question is how large and how festive. Attendance by Senator Eduardo Suarez Rivas is cited in FBN RG-170, confidential report, March 3, 1947.

  Vito Genovese
at 1946 Mob conference in Havana: Gosch and Hammer, pp. 308–14; Cirules (I), p. 39; Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, pp. 232–34.

  “It was a couple days before”: Gosch and Hammer, p. 308.

  “Let me tell you what I think”: Ibid., p. 310.

  “That guinea son of a bitch!”: Ibid., pp. 310–11.

  2. THE MOB’S PLAYGROUND

  The Godfather Part II: (Paramount, 1974) Director: Francis Ford Coppola; screenplay: Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola; “El padrino y las relaciones entre la tiranía de Batista y la mafia,” Granma, October 21, 1975.

  Labor strike at Hotel Nacional: “En Cuba,” Bohemia magazine, December 8, 1946; Cirules, The Mafia in Havana (I), pp. 37–38.

  Mob conference at the Hotel Nacional: Author interview, Estela Rivas, Havana, August 15 and 17, 2006. The conference is described in detail in Gosch and Hammer, The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano; Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, Meyer Lansky; and Cirules (I). Additional details, as well as references to those in attendance, are included in Bonnano, A Man of Honor; Summers, Sinatra (I); Demaris, The Last Mafioso; and Deitche, The Silent Don.

  Banquet menu: Cirules (I), p. 38.

  “I must have talked for an hour”: Gosch and Hammer, pp. 314–15.

  Having Ben Siegel murdered: The circumstances surrounding the hit on Siegel are explored in detail by Gosch and Hammer, and Eisenberg, Dan, and Landau, along with Jennings, We Only Kill Each Other, and many other Mob histories. All present some version of Siegel being killed because of cost overruns on the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas. However, in the documentary film O.G.: Joe Stassi, Original Gangster, mafioso Joe Stassi contends that Siegel was not whacked by the Mob. Stassi says he investigated the murder on behalf of his friend Meyer Lansky and came to the conclusion that Siegel had been murdered by the brother of Virginia Hill. The motive, according to Stassi, was that Siegel had physically abused Hill, angering her brother. Stassi convincingly makes the point that the hit—which was done from a distance, with a high-powered scope rifle—did not follow the Mafia’s modus operandi. If the Mob had wanted Siegel killed, the thinking goes, they would have done it in their usual manner: up close and personal, with the act being carried out by someone close to Bugsy.

 

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