BOBBY SAT AT the desk scribbling on a piece of paper and didn‘t appear to notice Alice was with him. Quarter of a page later, he looked up and nodded, then carried on writing.
“Sorry, I‘ll be with you in a minute. If I don‘t write this down now, I‘ll forget it all.”
“De nada.”
Alice sprawled onto one of the armchairs, trying to remain as cool as ice, knowing she had terrible news to impart and had no idea what to say. Her lips were dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Bobby stopped, put his pen down and sauntered over to the couch, opposite Alice with a low table in between them. He picked up half a cigar from the ashtray in front of him and lit it for the millionth time that day. It had been a busy morning.
“You look like you want to talk.”
“Yep... How d‘you say Mama‘s been since we got back from the Palace?”
Bobby sunk into the couch a few inches more, his positive disposition floated out under the crack in the door. He sighed and sat forward in his seat.
“Between the Markovs and New York, I haven‘t given it too much of my attention.”
“Me neither - until just now.”
“And?”
“She didn‘t recognize me and gouged a hole in her arm.”
Beat.
“Mama has dementia and we‘re not helping her by pretending it‘s not happening. I‘m talking about both of us: I am not blaming you for any of this.”
Silence.
“I called the nursing agency we found but they can‘t send anyone over for a couple of days, so Naldo will mind her until then.”
Bobby cast his eyes downward and squeezed himself into the smallest space he could fit in. Alice moved over and sat next to him, placing a hand on a shoulder. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he rocked forward and back. A man in pain.
ALICE WASN‘T TOO sure what to do. She wanted to offer Bobby solace, but she was experiencing the same agony as him. Where was his comforting hand on her shoulder? He was meant to be the adult and she was the child in their relationship. That had broken down with Mama, but it didn‘t have to be that way with Bobby. She let him cry his heart out from the mental loss of his wife of over twenty-five years.
“It wasn‘t supposed to be like this.”
“No, but she‘s alive and physically healthy. Our job is to make sure she survives past the weekend and lives a comfortable life. Some days she‘ll be with us and others... she‘ll have left the room.”
Now Alice couldn‘t contain herself any longer - all the anguish flooded out in salty tears and Bobby held her in his arms until her crying subsided. Then she kissed him on the cheek and they sat back to collect themselves together.
“You‘re a good man, Bobby Trevisan.”
“That‘s what your mother used to say to me.”
“Still true today.”
“Kind of you, but I‘m not sure you‘re right.”
“Take the compliments when they land.”
“Thank you, then.”
“WHEN YOU AND Frank were little, we used to go on picnics and you guys would be content to play with a ball. Your mom and I would lie around watching you two and simply enjoy being in each other‘s company.”
“Happy days. I don‘t remember that. Earliest memory I have is of a trip Frank and I took to a factory. Some bad guys locked us in a cupboard and Mama rescued us. I didn‘t know if it was real or a nightmare.”
“Was real. I‘d been out of the business two years and met your mom three or four months earlier than your cupboard nightmare, I think. Feels like it was a lifetime ago.”
“For me it was.”
Bobby laughed because Alice was right. She and Frank had only just learned to walk when they were kidnapped. All over a couple of pounds of heroin and a drug deal gone south. After that the Lagotti family made its mark once Mary Lou whacked Charlie Pentangelo. She had been one hell of a woman.
42
“ONCE WE‘VE MADE peace with Markov, we will need someone to lead this family.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?”
Bobby laughed.
“You, me or Frank. Or a combination.”
“Combination makes sense. If we work together, we make better decisions, wouldn‘t you say?”
“Yeah. Can the three of us operate as a team?”
Now it was Alice‘s turn to laugh. Bobby was asking leading questions, just so he wasn‘t the first one to nix Frank‘s name on the letterhead.
“I really can‘t say. What d‘you reckon?”
“It‘s not my place to stand between you two. Never has, but you guys have unresolved issues, so to speak.”
“Been a long time since we agreed on anything. And he‘s too quick to temper: always looking for a fight. I mean, one minute we agree to negotiate a truce and before the words have left our lips, he runs off to San Francisco maiming, killing and setting up brothels. Those are not the actions of a team player.”
“I hear you, but he gets shit done. He flew over to Boston then Atlantic City and created a quality revenue stream from nothing. Neither of us have done that.”
“And what are the lottery cards? Chopped fucking liver?“
“Sorry, that‘s something I haven‘t achieved - not for decades, anyway.”
“Better. Sometimes I wonder if anything I accomplish gets noticed. The effort to get the Queen of Sheba up-and-running nearly killed me. Mama was more interested in bailing out her precious Frank. Again.”
“We knew how hard you were working and how difficult it was. As you‘re so reliable, we got into the habit of leaving you alone because you don‘t generally need hand-holding. Frank has been tied to his mom‘s apron strings for far too long. It‘s only since Boston that he‘s stood on his own two feet.”
“So you‘re saying Frank should run the show?”
“DON‘T PUT WORDS in my mouth. I‘m just pointing out he‘s a lot more capable now than he used to be.”
“So do you want him or not?”
Bobby sat back and inhaled on his cigar. He liked having the prop in his hand because it was perfect excuse to give himself time to ponder. The end of the stogie glowed orange-red as he took the smoke into his mouth, rolled it around his palate and exhaled.
“He shouldn't run the family. Can‘t talk about the future, but he‘s not ready now.”
“And what about me?”
“Do you want to? I mean, without me by your side?”
“Dunno. I like the idea of it, but I‘m not sure if I‘m strong enough. Losing Sam hurt me more than I realized and I can‘t tell if I‘m weak at heart.”
“Mary Lou and I have been an effective double-act for years. You and I could try the same thing - if you were up for it.”
“At least until I regained my confidence. I used to say I was going to rule the world. Now I‘m not certain I am cut out for global domination.”
“You‘ll get there. The way you‘ve handled yourself over Sam has been amazing. You‘ve shown dignity and class when most people would have either hidden in their rooms or bitch-slapped her into the seventh circle of hell. You did neither and that takes guts. More than you give yourself credit for.”
“HOW WILL FRANK react if we carve him out?“
“Not positively. He‘d have to go.”
For emphasis, Bobby stubbed out the remaining inch of his cigar in the ashtray, grinding it into oblivion. He flicked a piece of tobacco off his hand and it fluttered to the floor. They both watched the brown speck until it was motionless and looked at each other square in the eye.
“Let him keep his east coast businesses and cut commercial ties with him, right?”
“Don‘t know that‘d work, Alice. We might need a more robust response.”
That euphemism hung in the air, but Alice didn‘t want to deal with its implications: that they‘d have to kill Frank to stop him from murdering them.”
“I couldn‘t be a part of that. He‘s my flesh and blood. We are twins...”
Bobby stare
d at her with a bemused expression. The pair of them had been sparring all their adult lives and now Alice wanted to convince herself she was unable to deliver the final blow. So be it. If she wouldn‘t - or couldn‘t - take care of business then he'd step in and sort matters out to give the family the best chance of a sustainable future.
“Don‘t worry about it. We send Frank back to AC to empire build and everyone can leave each other in peace.”
“Good. And Mama is our consiglieri on her better days.”
“Yeah. We need to be careful not to show any weakness tomorrow in front of Markov so, if Mary Lou is able, she should appear to head up the negotiations.”
“Cut a deal with Markov and then a smooth transition of power.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
FRANK HAD GOT himself a taste for Sammy and was spending time with her. While Alice and Bobby were discussing his future, Frank was penetrating Sammy from behind in the shower. Once he was done, they washed themselves and returned to bed to continue their gallivanting.
She didn‘t like being held prisoner and had been feeling lonely and ignored. There was no point hooking up with a gangster if she was never given the opportunity to show off his fabulous wealth or to live in extremely comfortable circumstances. At least Alice had an amazing place in Malibu - Frank had dumped her in a crummy apartment and not been back for days.
So when Frank came over, her eyes lit up and she wrapped her limbs around his body until she absorbed all his energy: he was a monster in the sack. For all Alice's intimate understanding of her body, she was a mild lay compared to Frank. Both had their plus points, but being with Frank was exciting and dangerous. Alice wanted to settle down and Frank just wanted to have fun.
That was the biggest difference between the twins. Sammy was aware of the irony because to the outside world, the greatest contrast was that one was male and the other female. Those details were uppermost in her mind as she went down on Frank again. His sheer physicality literally filled her head and the judders up and down her spine echoed how much he turned her on after she was finished with him and he had returned the oral favor.
MARY LOU SAT by the pool and stared into nowhere. She enjoyed the time by herself: she used it to reminisce about happier or clearer times. And to contemplate her conversations with Father Carmoody. That man sure had changed how she thought about the world. How fleeting was her life on the planet and how you risked an eternity of damnation if you made the wrong choices.
If it would save her soul, Mary Lou would hand the organization over to her children but she felt their own time in hell‘s fire would be affected. Perhaps they should wind down all their operations. That idea crossed her mind more than once, although she hadn‘t acted on it yet. A bad deal with Nikolay Markov could be precisely the excuse necessary to pass over the business to him and save her family from the Devil‘s clutches.
Then the memory of walking past all the cars in the lot, blood dripping off her skirt and her fingers, after her Frank was gunned down at Burbank Airport. Mary Lou recalled each vehicle: color, marque, which direction it was facing in its parking space.
Every little detail like it was yesterday. How she drove five miles below the speed limit all the way back to the hotel. What was its name again? The aroma of his dried blood on her hands. That acrid flavor of rust on her tongue.
Her entire world condensed into a journey across a lot to escape from the FBI and hang on to the takings from the Lansdowne branch of the First Bank of Baltimore. A personal fortune to start the family business which she‘d turned into a small empire. Mary Lou and ... what‘s-his-name. They‘d done it together.
IN THE EVENING, Frank lay on the bed, head resting on Sammy‘s thighs. She made a good pillow and he inhaled the scent of sex which was smeared over both their bodies like a high-class perfume. He considered his plan for the peace conference, running through each element in his mind: rehearsing every moment. For him to succeed, he needed to execute a subtle play in the room and Isaak had to deliver the best marksmanship.
Sammy wriggled out from under him and propped him up with pillows. Then she nipped to the bathroom. When she came back into the bedroom, she sashayed off to mix them two cocktails, offering him one, which he gladly took - his mouth seemed parched.
He sank the curious green liquid in a single swig, smacked his lips together and announced his desire for a refill. Sammy shrugged and handed over her own glass as she couldn‘t be bothered to go off and mess about with the cocktail shaker and all that ice. Too cold and too much hassle.
She stood right by the bed to reach Frank‘s hand with the drink. He knocked back the second cocktail, throwing the receptacle onto the carpeted floor causing it to bounce once and roll to a halt on the other side of the room. Sammy giggled as Frank turned around to face her. His head was inches from her groin and he placed a palm round her ass to draw her in nearer until she collapsed on top of him. Frank chuckled and teased a nipple.
Within five minutes, Sammy was sat astride him and the warmth of his dick inside her felt good. As soon as he was done, Frank pushed her off and stood up to put his clothes on. Then his shoes.
“Been a blast. I‘ll be back tomorrow evening. Wear your red G-string for when I come over.”
He closed the front door before Sammy had time to say a word. She dialed for a pizza and rummaged around to find a dressing gown before the boy with her food appeared wanting his tip.
43
THE PALLADIUM HOTEL used to be a go-to venue in San Francisco, but its heyday had long since receded. Nowadays, families occupied it in high season as a cheap alternative to one of the plush hotels in town. The rest of the year, sales reps and conference delegates took advantage of its competitive rates.
Half the rooms boasted a balcony view of the bay and a well-stocked minibar, comprising an array of liquor, bandages and prophylactics. Nobody assumed all three would be used at the same time, but this was San Francisco so no-one judged.
The reason the Palladium survived despite its tawdry exterior was due to its location - and its competitive rates. This combination was the precise set of reasons Naldo selected the hotel for the peace conference. It was cheap, in the middle of town and there were loads of civilians milling all around in case anyone planned any funny business.
Both sides had scoped the meeting room on the second floor together. Each item of furniture subjected to a rigorous check: there was nothing hidden underneath, inside or elsewhere. Either Naldo or Lara Mikhailov slid a hand behind the mirror and the various paintings on the walls to ensure no blades were available for use if tensions arose. Once they were both satisfied, Naldo and Mikhailov stayed guard outside the only door into the place.
Bobby, Alice, Frank and Mary Lou arrived around ten and Nikolay appeared two minutes later. Everyone acknowledged each other but no-one shook hands. Coffee and water was served and everybody sat down, apart from Naldo and Mikhailov who continued to stand behind their respective leaders.
“If I had known so many of you were coming, I‘d have brought my entire family this morning too.”
Nikolay smirked and sipped his coffee. Alice ground her molars and held back the disgust she felt for this man. Mary Lou smiled benignly, because she didn‘t care about Nikolay‘s childish comment or because she had no idea who he was or what she was doing there.
“Shall we get on? We are here to broker a truce, not engage in idle chat.”
“YOURS IS A large outfit with resources stretching from coast to coast. We are a small family with control over the Tenderloin and not much more.”
“Nikolay, you do yourself an injustice. Your friends stretch all the way to Russia, so let‘s not pretend you have no reach. If you were just a cockroach, we we’d have crushed you like a bug by now.”
“Thank you for recognizing I am someone to be reckoned with. We all work hard in this pitiful country.”
“The land of opportunity is big enough for all of us to carve out successful lives. We must agree how
to slice up San Francisco.”
“The way I see things, you came to my city, stole from me and killed my own. We agreed an accommodation and then you returned, took some more and attacked me again. You owe me and all we need to decide is how you shall pay for the damage you caused me.”
Before Alice responded, Frank slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump perceptibly and to rattle every cup of coffee in the room.
“Listen to me, little man: there has been damage done to both sides. What you need to consider more is how to make restitution for the killings with your name on it. If you think I‘ll bend over and take it up the ass from you, you‘re smoking more opium than you can sell.”
Frank glared at Nikolay, who responded with a casual stare and gritted teeth. People didn‘t talk to him with such scant respect usually and survive. Mary Lou smiled benignly at the argument unfolding before her and Alice maintained her composure. Her primary aim was to prevent Mama from saying too much, so Frank‘s outburst aligned with her interests. As agreed, Bobby intended to remain silent for as long as possible, so there was one calm voice if tempers frayed.
“THE WAY I see things: we‘ve got you by the balls because we‘ve cut off your heroin supply and that musta hurt business. Without the brown sugar, how could you keep your skanks sedated enough to fuck the degenerates you get in your whorehouses? And your operations rely on the cash you generate from selling those bags too. So talk less about reparations and more about what you will do to convince us to open your franchises again.”
“I am sure we are here to discuss, negotiate and agree, boy. If you want me to not make demands of you then you must stop laying down the law to me.”
Mama’s Gone Page 24