Capo di Tutti Capi III [Concluded]
Prologue
January 7th, 1951 – Hotel Nacional, Habana, Cuba.
Meyer looked out over the warm seas of the Florida Straits. In his mind’s eye he could make out the low shape of Florida barely more than 100 miles away, the nation’s Capital astride the Potomac – he thought briefly of Hoover and how useful those pictures he’d obtained had been in neutering the FBI – and his imagination turned to the great cities of the Northeast, the source of all the power and influence he had come to wield. He heard the door open behind him, firm footsteps crossing the suite.
He turned to greet Charlie Lucky. They hugged in the gruff manner of old friends who can’t –even to one another – show too much affection. No matter their differences from time to time, both trusted the other implicitly. In their chosen profession, there could be no higher note of respect.
“It’s good to see you Charlie.”
“And you too my Yiddish paisan.”
They talked briefly about the agenda for tomorrow’s meeting of the commission, ensuring that no unexpected items would come up and so that, by pooling information, they would know the results of the votes to be taken before the meeting even started. In short, except for the nature of their business, it was like a hundred other such informal meetings between business associates. They talked for an hour, touching on each issue of concern.
“Well, Meyer, that about wraps it for this one.”
“Just one last thing, Charlie.”
“Que?”
“Fatlington.”
The word seemed to still the very sounds of the nightclub, turning everything quieter with a brooding silence.
“Fatlington? Meyer, you are the one who kept saying it was a piece of…”
“Numbers, Charlie.”
“Numbers?”
Luciano paused, thoughtful, then nodded to Lansky to continue.
“The Pentangeli clan takeover was a surprise, and since they didn’t have a history with the commission they lacked some of the skills and connections needed to maintain power. As you know, they were barely in control for 15 months before New Jersey State police and the Customs G-me arrested and jailed almost all of them…”
“Yeah, and?”
“But during that year and change we were able to use the port facilities and virtually the whole town as our plaything. We cleared over 4.3 million more that year than in either of the two preceding years, AND we were able to smuggle things in for The Outfit in Chicago, high-paying immigrants from Communist East Europe to staff our casinos in Vegas and brothels – we even did a few favors for Joe up in Boston – by the way, Joe’s kid is gonna make a run for the Senate in ’52, we need to get the union leaders geared up early -- anyway, those favors are nearly as useful as the income. I never thought I would say it, but your idea of having the town taken over entirely was highly profitable and makes good sense for us.”
Luciano nodded, a little smile betraying his desire – held in check – to say ‘I told you so.’ Meyer heard it anyway.
“Yeah, you did. You were meshugga like a fox on that one. Anyway, I’d like to institute an effort to return control to a Commission-sponsored family. It’ll take about a month to ramp up the effort once we get approval.”
“Fatlington again? Why not Bayonne or Atlantic City or something?”
“Fatlington has the best port of the three and its police commissioner is still that thick-headed mick – and he’s just as much of a putz as he was before. So Fatlington still makes the best choice.”
“Alright Meyer, I’ll put it to the commission and I’ll back the motion. Since it doesn’t cost us a lot directly, it shouldn’t create much opposition.” Luciano paused. “Are you sure, though, that you don’t have it in for Fatlington yourself now?”
“It’s nothing personal, Charlie...just business.”
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can this always be happening HERE! What,” said Commissioner Fermanagh, “have we done to deserve this…again?”
Originally Posted by TosaInu
- Proud Horseman of the Presence 
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