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  The weekend’s arrival meant Roy and Milton returned from the course as Mary Lou sipped her second coffee of the day. As they walked to the bar on the far side, she waved at them and they acknowledged her as they bought their drinks.

  Despite the unwritten rule that the men and women didn’t mingle, the two waltzed over and settled down in the booth with her.

  “Hiya.”

  “Hey, you.”

  “Drinking alone?”

  “A morning coffee. The girls are probably still in the nail bar.”

  Roy smiled and Milton raised his eyebrows.

  “Who won?”

  “Draw. We both played appallingly. You deserved the win more than we did.”

  “Is there a prize?”

  “Buy you another coffee?”

  Mary Lou laughed and shook her head.

  “Keep the coffee all the same, but you could do me a favor.”

  “How so?”

  “At the party last week, we talked about business interests. You remember?”

  The men nodded and stiffened their backs.

  “Well, would you be able to make an introduction for me?”

  “To whom?”

  “I’d like to make an investment or two and I reckon you know the kinds of people I should speak with.”

  “What sort are they?”

  “Come on, Roy. None of us were born yesterday. There’s no need to be coy with me. We’ve all been hanging round together for long enough for me to work out what’s what.”

  “Nothing personal, love, but my connections won’t want me to pass on someone like you for business. Men work with men where I come from.”

  “Although I have no desire to go into details, I have a track record, which has left me with a chunk of cash which I’d like to turn into a bigger chunk of cash. If you won’t hook me up, is there anything you guys do that needs some extra funding?”

  “Really, Mary Lou. The answer is no.”

  She hid the disappointment behind her eyes as she had no desire to show these mooks what she thought of them. Mary Lou stared at Roy and ground her molars instead. Was it so difficult to get a piece of the action in this town?

  Milton turned his head sideways and continued to look at her. Even though Roy had looked at him to join in his smirk, Milton had not.

  “Is funding all you’re interested in?”

  “Not necessarily, to be honest. I’m used to being hands-on in my affairs and it’d be good to get back in the saddle, if you see what I mean.”

  “I do. You understand you have no track record here, which is why we’re skeptical.”

  “I get that. The only problem I have is that if I tell you what I’ve done, I’ll have to kill you.”

  Roy laughed but the other two remained stoney faced.

  “Let’s say I’m sitting on a significant investment potential and it exists through serious hard work. People have died for me to own this money. Ten. Twelve. I’ve lost count.”

  Roy removed the inane smile from his expression, but Mary Lou continued looking at Milton. She had no desire to work with anyone who couldn’t imagine her being a serious business partner.

  She carried on sipping her coffee until the impact of her remarks had soaked into their heads and the men had a chance to swallow. Milton took a large swig of his drink and placed it back on its coaster.

  “So you want to make some more money?”

  “Yep. That’s what I said.”

  “I can help. If you’d like me to.”

  “Sure would. Is that all right with you, Roy? I wouldn’t want you to be out of sorts.”

  Roy mumbled something, stood up with his drink and slunk off. Milton and Mary Lou watched as he sat on a high chair at the bar with his back facing them.

  “Don’t mind Roy. He’s just prejudiced.”

  “Pig.”

  “Yes, but I always like the sound of cash registers filling up with greenbacks. I have an opportunity which might interest you. Make tenfold profit minimum.”

  “Sounds serious. Why d'you want me to get involved? If it’s that good, why not handle it yourself?”

  “Cash flow. Right now I have no liquid assets otherwise you wouldn’t see me for dust.”

  “And you’ll drop me once I make some money for you?”

  “I’m loyal. If we work together well then I’ll want us to do so again. Success breeds success, right?”

  “And if we both build a stash of cash then we can invest in ever bigger projects.”

  “That’s how I see it. Yes.”

  “Here’s to a bright future.”

  They clinked coffee mugs and drank down to the dregs. A smile and Mary Lou called for the check. Despite Milton’s protestations, she made she the waiter take her money. Mary Lou Lagotti had arrived in town.

  Part 8: Good Friday April 9, 1971

  14

  Milton drove and Mary Lou sat beside him. Destination: a warehouse on the far side of town where business could be conducted in relative privacy. All had been quiet since their last conversation until a week ago when Milton knocked on the front door and checked she’d be free today. She wasn’t planning on going to Mass: why would she? Mary Lou stabbed god in the balls years ago and slashed his throat for good measure.

  “You been to this place before?”

  “Couple of times. We usually meet in LA.”

  “And you trust this guy?”

  “He’s a capo. Of course I trust him. What’s not to trust?”

  “Just running through everything in my head. Pay no never mind.”

  Plush homes flew past them until the buildings got smaller and packed closer together. Then they petered out to reveal some office blocks and light industrial usage. Just before they left Palm Springs altogether, heading north past the airport, stood a series of warehouses. Each had four foot high digits on the front, black on a white rectangle.

  Too many cars to count were parked outside number five and Milton’s vehicle joined them.

  “You ready?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “Sure, but I’m not the one on trial today.”

  The hundred feet to the main entrance took a lifetime to walk. Mary Lou sensed her breathing getting tighter. Memories of Frank’s disused factory and the countless meetings before the heist flashed into her mind’s eye.

  Through the door and into a large space. An enormous atrium four storeys tall with a row of smaller rooms and offices to the right. Two guys leaned against a wall chewing toothpicks. A stereotype in all but name.

  Milton nodded like he knew them and headed to one of the closed doors. Mary Lou followed. On the other side were two men sat at a table and three others wearing long coats strung along the walls of the fifteen by ten feet room.

  Two chairs stood vacant; Milton sat on one and Mary Lou took the other. No handshakes. No acknowledgment. The two seated guys kept talking among themselves for a minute. Sounded like Italian but might have been Spanish - Mary Lou had no way of knowing.

  She remained silent for now, aware there was an unspoken protocol to follow.

  “Okay, thanks for agreeing to see us. I appreciate the importance of your time.”

  “We always have time for our friends. And their friends too.”

  A beady stare at Mary Lou.

  “I thought there could be some mutual benefit in us all meeting up. I’ll leave you to introduce yourselves.”

  “My name is Pasquale Bassani and that is introduction enough. Anyone who abuses knowledge of this fact ends up buried in concrete or stuffed in a sack in the desert.”

  “Fabio. I help look after Mr. Bassani’s business interests.”

  “Mary Lou Lagotti. I have money to invest in the right project. Thank you for seeing me today.”

  “That name means nothing to me. What are you to me, Mrs. Lagotti?”

  “I’m the answer to your next question. I have significant wealth obtained through illegal means and I want more of it. Milton told me you were the people
to speak to on this. If he was wrong, we can stop this conversation right away and not waste our time.”

  Both men continued to glare at her and Milton shuffled in his seat.

  “That we’re in the same room means you’ve checked me out otherwise you’d be foolish men. And you don’t come across to me like mooks. So you should be asking me how we can work together.”

  Mary Lou fell silent. As much as she wanted to be back in the game, she was no pushover. They needed to understand that from the get-go else no dice.

  “Mrs. Lagotti. I mean you no disrespect, but you come here without any track record with us. All I’m determining is what you have achieved. I am sure there is greatness behind you. As you say, Milton wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring a waster before us.”

  “Until now, I have kept my achievements quiet on the west coast. If I tell you, I put my life in danger.”

  “To be honest, if you don’t say, your future prospects will be severely curtailed and your two children will become orphans.”

  Flat voice. Cold eyes. Simple truths. Mary Lou liked his direct approach.

  “The First Bank of Boston haul in ‘68.”

  Her eyes flit from Pasquale to Fabio and back again.

  “Congratulations. That was a million dollar take, was it not?”

  “Only if you believed the radio. Nearer to half a million dirty. The money’s been laundered since then - and is broadly intact.”

  She watched as Bassani calculated what sum remained in her possession. His eyes widened as he appreciated the potential investment sitting on the other side of the table.

  “Thank you, Milton. You can wait outside.”

  Once the door had closed behind him, Fabio offered Mary Lou a cup of coffee, which she accepted.

  “If you want Milton, he’ll come out of your end, not ours.”

  “Understood.”

  “He will keep the source of your finances with him to his grave. And I’m gonna assume you’d like our business dealings to remain private, which is why I invited him to leave.”

  “Appreciate it. The fellas lying around the room appear to be okay to stay, apparently.”

  “If any of these gentlemen make the mistake of opening their mouths, I can assure you, they will lose their tongues.”

  “Okay. Do you have any projects we could work on?”

  CHARLIE PENTANGELO had put on around ten to fifteen pounds since the day he heard Frank Lagotti Senior had been shot in the face. The two events were not connected, but both happened to be true. Charlie was heavier and the Shylock was dead.

  The cream sauces and red wine had flowed well for him as the business interests of the Baninno family had improved and increased. Their reach had extended across the country. Back in ‘68, they had made some initial forays beyond the East Sea Board but in the intervening time, the family had consolidated its hold on the other New York families so much that it needed to expand westward to maintain growth. The mob did not differ from any other conglomerate business with a saturated market in one part of the country.

  Vegas proved to be a wonderful place. Strong connections with high profile New York performers drew the crowds to the shows and the lure of free money dragged people into the casinos. Never had so many losers deceived themselves into believing they were winners.

  This activity fuelled projects further west - along with the power wielded by the New York mob inside Hollywood. Those self-same cabaret performers appeared in the movies and Los Angeles became a location of interest.

  The natural consequence of these business considerations was the need to have an increased direct influence in what happened in the City of Angels. There had always been an accommodation between the gangs to the east of Chicago and those to the west. Tithes and appreciation flowed in both directions so everyone was content with the relationship.

  By the time a man landed on the Moon the amount of cash generated by Vegas - and its money laundering potential - became an object of direct interest to the Baninno clan. It knew Chicago was too hard a nut to crack but Nevada and beyond was a different game, partly because New York families had been the bedrock of both Vegas and LA in previous generations. Their blood had spilled on those streets.

  During the same time, the West Coast mob had ripped itself apart with infighting and an unpleasant decision by some members of the warring families to spill their guts to the Feds. This meant that, despite the tremendous opportunities afforded by having one obscenely rich community and another festooned in poverty, money was tight across what was left of the West Coast families.

  By 1971, Nick Lica was barely in charge of the west coast operation amid a string of confessions by mafiosi rats. Beneath him was Joe Dip, the underboss in LA but there was scarcely a structure beyond them as local hoods kept the numbers racket away from the family’s touch. As LA was the movie capital of the world, Dip made a pile of cash out of the porn industry.

  Pasquale Bassani reported directly to Dip and maintained his allegiance to this failing empire out of habit rather than any belief about Lica and Dip’s ability to steer the family to better times.

  “I'm sure we can find some project of ours for you to invest in.”

  15

  “I’m open to any kind of venture you have in mind.”

  “If you can’t handle yourself in any situation, I’d wonder what you’re doing sat here.”

  Beat.

  “There are two opportunities to open up recently. One involves brown sugar and the other China white.”

  “First things first, then.”

  “There are a large number of the dispossessed and poor living in Los Angeles. For all the obvious reasons, they want to escape from the tedium of their humdrum lives and can’t afford to relocate, get an education or make something of themselves.”

  “Okay.”

  “That is where we come in and offer a service to solve their short-term needs. A small bag of heroin enables them to leave their impoverished circumstances for a few hours and it only costs a handful of dollars.”

  “And how do we make any money if it’s all low value?”

  “When we ship the material into the US, it is normally ninety-five per cent pure. That’d kill a bull elephant. So we dilute it to three or five per cent; cut it in with other chemicals like quinine. That multiplies our profit by a factor of twenty, minimum.”

  Mary Lou smiled. This was quite some business model. Why bother robbing banks when you can rob the poor and ineffectual?

  “That means you need somewhere to make the smack cocktail?”

  “Yes, that is a cost, but once you are up-and-running with a network of dealers, the money rolls in and the only problem is where to store the green.”

  “Terrible problem to have.”

  “Indeed. Right now, there is a factory idle because we need a sizeable amount of cash to buy the first shipment. Within three months, you’d have paid us back and be sitting on a gold mine.”

  “Pay you back for what?”

  “The rent of the equipment and manpower. We also have a network to sell the material.”

  “I’d rather you were a business partner than a landlord.”

  Beat.

  “So be it. Just remember that if we share the profit then we share the risk.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Also, it means we must watch each other’s backs. If one of us goes down so does the other.”

  “Understood.”

  “Tell you what. Why don’t we start with a small-scale test? See if we work well together before we get involved in any serious investment. If after one gig either side decides to part waves then no harm, no foul. We walk away with no malice toward the other party.”

  “Seems reasonable. Your caution is well advised.”

  “I’m thinking of a ten grand payment to cover the cost of the rent - just for this first job - of all your resources. And then we split the profit fifty-fifty.”

  “Mary Lou, a good opening offer but not acceptab
le. We need eighty per cent. On this job, we take on all the risk. You are merely providing the seed capital.”

  “My guess is you expect me to run the project and not just cut a check. So there is risk on my shoulders. Besides, without my money, you have no profit and there needs to be appreciation of these matters. Eighty per cent is not a reasonable figure. I said fifty and I meant it. That is fair and means we can move forward on a similar basis too.

  “You know if we are successful, I’ll end up buying the factory and men off you so you’ll make your money at the back end. But you will not play me like a sap upfront.”

  Pasquale and Fabio spoke in hushed tones on the other side of the table. The air was calm and the guys leaning on the walls appeared unconcerned by the discussions taking place before their eyes.

  “Your proposal is acceptable.”

  “Before we seal the deal, tell me about the other opportunity.”

  “Oh, that is a lot less profitable but much more fun.”

  “Do tell.”

  “The high life of the rich and famous in Hollywood is legend. Drugs and alcohol fuel the party atmosphere. The days of Prohibition are well and truly over so we no longer have any interest in that. But as you now know, narcotics attract a very large profit margin.”

  “Right.”

  “Cocaine is the substance of choice with the Hollywood set nowadays. In the 60s it was marijuana but a new breed of actor has arrived, wanting something with more of a kick to it. Mellow is out and hyper is in.

  “Whatever. There are similar profits to make out of China white in the movie community. Again, funding is the key as we have the connections overseas to obtain product.”

  “Why don’t we run both opportunities alongside each other?”

  “That is entirely possible. Be aware, there is a smaller pool of customers. Even though the product costs more than brown sugar, there is still less actual money to be make out of Hollywood.”

  “You get to mix with the film stars though.”