“Geez Louise, what a dive,” Pinaro noted
aloud. “Couldn’t ya have found a neutral place that served anything
better than greasy cow burgers, Boss?”
“No, and just shut up,” the Don tersely
replied. “We’re here on business, and don’t you forget your job.
Getting treated to the best cuisine in the area isn’t part of that
job, Killer.”
Gia smirked. “Papa always gives us the best,
no doubt,” she lamented with a visible hint of sarcasm.
“Enough out of you, little girl!” Gino
snapped. “I’ve always given you nothing but the best, including
that expensive satin bias dress you’re wearing right now…
unlike
any other ladies we’ve seen today. Do you know how
pricey it was to find that style of dress with the leg o’ mutton
sleeves you like?”
“This shore is one beautiful gown,” Gia said
in response. “But let’s face it, Papa, ya bought it for me ’cause
you feel how I look in public is a reflection on you. Let’s just be
callin’ it like it is here.”
Gino scowled. “You ungrateful little—”
“Uh, Boss…” Fido interjected, cutting off
Gino’s admonishment. “Just thought I would tell you before you
started yellin’, that Vito, his squeeze, and his boys are sitting
right over there, and looking right at us.” The burly bodyguard
pointed his index finger in the proper direction to bring Gino’s
attention to where his great “business” rival was seated.
Vito Gambino was a tall, fearsome-looking
man with rugged looks and close-cropped black hair. He beamed
gleefully when he saw Gino’s entourage, yet his tough guy
appearance made his smiles appear intimidating rather than amiable.
His immaculate three-piece, wide-breasted suit and shiny matching
fedora hat were as expensive as those worn by Gino, and looked
brand new.
“Gino, my
goombadi
!” he shouted in a
rough voice with a noticeable Italian accent. “So glad you could
make it! Come here, come here!”
Fido made a point to step in front of Gino
to guard him as they headed towards the table at the far left of
the diner. Vito’s latest lover, an attractive young woman in a low
back green dress, sat beside him. On either side of them sat two of
Vito’s well-dressed bodyguards, with another standing a bit off to
the side of the table. The trio were clearly watching every breath
taken by Gino’s party.
Don Provenzo confidently walked over to the
other side of the table, Gia following him with a commensurate
level of outward calm. The standing guard’s eyes appeared to lock
on her in a manner akin to that of a frog intensely scanning a fly
it was determined to snatch from the air. She smiled and winked at
him, and he slyly reciprocated.
Gino sat directly across from Vito, his gaze
intense and expression neutral. Vito, however, kept up the smiles
and sense of joviality.
Gia sat to the right of her father, as she
usually did. Getting comfortable, she adjusted the capelets on her
dress’ shoulder areas, allowing a moderate amount of cleavage to
show. She didn’t consider herself a floozy by any means, but she
well understood the advantage and power that female sex appeal had
in a world ostensibly dominated by men.
They only
think
they’re in control
,
and it’s to our advantage to let them
keep thinking that
, was a personal motto she often shared with
female acquaintances.
“What exactly are you looking at, big boy?”
she asked Vito’s guard who was now obviously staring at her
cleavage.
“I was just admiring the pretty flowers on
your dress,” he replied, referring to the embroidered roses on her
capelets.
She let out a brief snort, and said, “Mmhmm,
I’ll bet you are.” She couldn’t help smiling just a little when she
noticed the fiery glare that Ira beamed to the opposing guard.
Fido and Pinaro took their usual places
standing on each side of where Gino and Gia were sitting, while Ira
did the same by sitting at Gino’s left. It was the job of the first
two to keep an eye on Vito’s guards and the general environment;
Ira’s job was to keep an eye on Vito himself.
Clearly intending to break the tension on
many levels, and to avoid Gino focusing attention on the exchange
between his guard and Gia, Vito festively hit the table with his
powerful hand.
“So, dinner is about to be served, people!”
said the Don of Buffalo’s Gambino Family with relish. “Cow burgers
and potato sticks on the house!” He then subjected his guests to
his unsettling laugh.
“That oughta do wonders for my expanding
figure,” the slightly plump Gia noted quietly.
“Nah, you got more to love this way, doll,”
Vito’s guard opined with a wry smirk.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” Gia said with a
smirk of her own, while both Gino and Ira developed an inflamed
countenance.
“One more word like that, you filthy little
puissant,” Gino told the guard, “and I will personally remove your
prized part and shove it so far up your behind that you’ll be
peeing out of your mouth.”
The guard gritted his teeth, but knew better
than to say anything in return, especially after Vito raised his
hand to emphasize a moratorium on that kind of talk.
“Boys, boys, let’s dispense with all the
negativity,” he said. “We’re here for a friendly business meeting,
and I don’t want to come off as disrespectful to my
goombadi
here.”
“I’m not your
goombadi
, Vito,” Gino
clarified sternly. “I’m not here to enjoy your company, let alone
the company of what passes for your ‘help.’ I’m here to iron out
the matter of your horning in on my territory lately. It’s
going
to stop; the only further question to answer here is
how
.”
“Tell ’em, Papa,” Gia quietly cheered, while
again winking at the leader of Vito’s guards.
Vito continued to smile as his guards tensed
up.
“No need to be that way, Gino,” the Gambino
Don said. “We all know that the Queen City is a big apple, and its
surrounding area makes it a whole big apple pie. More than big
enough for both our families to get their fair share of the slices.
There’s no need for us to see the other as ‘horning’ in on anyone
else’s property. It’s about
sharing
, my esteemed Italian
brother. Don’t you agree?”
“I agree that you have as much interest in
‘sharing’ the pie with my family as you would that skinny little
dish of yours,” Gino spat.
“Say what?” his date, Florence, reacted with
a start. “Vito, are you going to let him—?”
“Quiet!” he shouted at the young woman, and
she immediately complied. Vito then regained his composure and
toothy smile with impressive haste.
“Now, Gino,” Don Gambino continued, “there’s
no call for any accusations, or insults. We can work this out, I’m
sure. With that mess going on in Chicago, and my family members in
New Orleans dropping like flies between an uncooperative rival
family, coppers, and vigilantes going all ‘Chicago’ on them… well,
I’m sure you understand our need to seek out other horizons. We can
work together to make the Queen City a more profitable place than
Chicago and Manhattan combined.
“Together, we can be bigger than the likes
of Maggadino, Bonnano, Corleone, Comante, and Morello…
combined
. I’m sure you know, as we do, that there’s lots of
talk about the repeal of the Prohibition legislation going through
in just a few months. If that happens, it will be bad for business
on a level that affects us both. My family needs to find as many
alternatives to the speakeasies as possible, as soon as we can, and
that means… we need to expand our interests. You know, like
lending, gambling, the unions; all opportunities for the future.
And if we work together, what one of our families gains, so does
the other.”
Gino threw his left hand up to silence his
rival’s tirade. “How stupid do you think I am, Vito?”
“I don’t understand what you mean, Gino,” he
replied.
“Like hell you don’t!” the Provenzo Don
exclaimed while pounding a fist on the table; this caused two cups
of water to overturn and spill their contents. “I know that what
you’re doing here is trying to sweet talk your way into convincing
me to let your sorry ass into my family’s territory. To let you get
your grimy hands into the same alternatives to the speakeasies that
my family has spent the last two years working to build. Well,
guess what? It’s. Not. Gonna.
Happen
. Is that clear?”
Vito displayed an obviously forced smile as
everyone else present visibly tensed up in unison.
“Well, now,” Vito said with a frown. “Those
are some mighty uncharitable accusations, Gino. I thought you knew
me better than that. My family has worked this city almost as long
as yours has, and—”
“And prior to you being put in charge, your
family
respected
its boundaries,” Gino interrupted to remind
him. “They didn’t show all these silly and dangerous ambitions. If
Lenny was still around to run things, he would be milking as much
as he could out of your family’s speakeasies before the legislation
goes through, invest the proceeds into a few little dens of
iniquity… and mostly jump ship to some other apple that has room
for you.
“But those new businesses in Buffalo and up
in Canada belong to us, because
my
family built them under
my deals and direction. You know damn well that if I let you in on
this, you would work night and day to try and take things over.
Letting that happen would be a slap in the face to my family, and
dealing with it would be an annoying little inconvenience for
me.
“So with all due frankness, my business
decision is that you can consider your family in the position of
someone with a bad case of the shits who has no access to a toilet.
Capito
?”
Vito’s expression remained oddly unchanged
as he seemingly vented a bit by rolling a napkin into a ball, and
casually tossed it across the length of the diner. It hit the young
woman sequestered in the far corner of the restaurant in the face,
and she looked in their direction. Seeing who was seated across
from her, she ran over to Gino’s side of the table with a bubbly
sense of excitement.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” she blurted with a
tone of breathless enthusiasm. “You’re Mr. Provenzo! ‘The World’s
Greatest!’ I see you so often in the papers, oh my god you’re so
handsome and distinguished in person! Your pictures don’t do you
justice! Can I please please
please
have your
autograph?”
“Oh brother,” Gia said with a roll of her
eyes. “I think I actually preferred all ‘a that tension to this
little bim.”
“I can’t help being a bit popular and
admired, little girl,” Gino said, almost smiling. “All right,
missy, you can have my autograph. But then you gotta run along,
because I have some important business to attend to.” He tore a
large shred off of one of the menus. “I got some paper for you
here, let me just have Ira get me something to write with.”
The girl giggled. “Ooohh, it’s okay, Mr.
Provenzo, sir, I have a pen and a little ink bottle in my purse.
Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll get it. Oh my god, this is soooooo
like a wonderful dream!”
Gia shook her head. “Gotta love the
groupies… they bring their own pen and inkwell with them.”
As promised, the still smiling girl reached
into her polka dot-decorated purse for the item she was
seeking.
“So who do I make this autograph out to,
young lady?” Gino asked.
“Ooohhh, you can just make it out to…
the
bitch
!” she retorted with a sudden drastic change of tone as
she quickly pulled a stiletto from her purse and shoved it into
Gino’s throat.
Gino gagged in shock and pain as blood
poured out of his neck and mouth.
“Papa!” Gia screamed in horror at the top of
her vocal capacity.
“Boys!” Fido shouted as he jumped to his
feet. “That little bimbo was a plant! Kill them all!”
It was now disturbingly clear to Fido and
his two fellow guards that Vito’s seemingly innocent hurling of the
rolled napkin across the diner in the girl’s direction was a signal
for her to drop her unthreatening veneer and fulfill her deadly
purpose. Vito groomed and paid her well for this specific task; a
plant who could appeal to Gino’s notorious ego—his sole
weakness—and look safe enough so as not to immediately arouse the
suspicions of his normally alert guards.
As guns were drawn on both sides, the
gravely injured Gino Provenzo proved the rumors of his incredible
toughness were no fairy tales as he instinctively grabbed his
killer’s thin arm in a vice-like grip. The girl screamed and
struggled, but Gino was determined to prevent her from fleeing the
scene and escaping retribution for as long as his remaining breath
held out.
Taking full advantage of Gino’s swan act,
the now insanely angry Gia grabbed the girl by her throat with her
left hand while grabbing the large glass pitcher of water with her
right one. She then smashed the heavy pitcher against the
teenager’s face, crushing her nasal cartilage into a mutilated
pulp. Screaming expletives at her father’s assassin, Gina swiftly
followed with a second smash to the girl’s face. The pitcher
cracked while the teenager’s jawbone visibly detached from her
skull.
“You dirty little whorebag!” Gia bellowed as
she swung the pitcher at the girl’s face one final time, sending
her now lifeless body sprawling several feet from Gino’s faltering
grip. The girl’s corpse slammed onto the floor as torrents of blood
spurted from every orifice of her now thoroughly unrecognizable
face.
Acting on pure adrenaline, the now totally
feral Gia hurled the pitcher at the still sitting Vito, who barely
leaped out of his seat before it struck him in the face. She then
pulled the blade from her father’s throat, and hastily put a napkin
to the blood-spurting wound in a desperate attempt to staunch the
bleeding.