The Piranhas (19 page)

“No,” he answered. “You can stand near the windows.” He opened a drawer from his desk and handed a Luger automatic to me. “I know you know how to work one of these.”

I stared at him. “You’re expecting trouble?”

“Not really,” he said. “But in my business—” He shrugged his shoulders.

I walked over to the windows as I slipped the gun into my jacket pocket. From the corner of my eyes I saw the man come through the door—a swarthy man of medium height wearing a tight-fitting suit and sporting a dark and angry face.

My uncle rose from his desk and held out his hand. “Nico,” he said smoothly, “good to see you.”

The man ignored my uncle’s hand. “You screwed me out of three hundred grand,” he said harshly.

My uncle was unruffled. “You’re a fool,” he said. “If I wanted to screw you I would have taken you for three million.”

Nico seemed to get angrier. “It isn’t the money,” he snapped. “It’s the principle.”

“What do you know about principle, you asshole?” Uncle Rocco’s voice grew cold. “You screwed your father before he was cold on his deathbed. What happened to the money your father wanted to divide between you and your uncle?”

“My uncle disappeared,” Nico said. “We never could find him.”

“You made sure that nobody would look for him,” Uncle Rocco said, his voice still cold. “Especially in the pig farm you owned in Secaucus.”

“That’s all horseshit,” Nico said angrily. “That has nothing to do with this. You still owe me three hundred grand.”

Uncle Rocco stood up behind his desk. “I am a man of honor,” he said quietly. “I made an agreement with your father when I came down here. He took over the unions and he gave me five thousand a month for expenses. After your father died I never asked for the money. It was sent each month to me by messenger just as it came from your father.”

Nico stared at him. “Nobody was authorized to do that.”

“That’s your problem,” my uncle said flatly. “Maybe nobody in your organization likes you.”

“I’ll get rid of the son of a bitch,” Nico said.

“Still your problem,” Uncle Rocco said. “You make sure that the five grand comes to me every month. Just as your father and I had agreed.”

“And if I don’t?”

Uncle Rocco smiled and again sat back in his chair. “As I said, I am a man of honor. I keep my word, and I believe you will honor your father’s word.” He paused a moment, then smiled gently. “Or you will find yourself joining your uncle in the pig farm.”

Nico stared at him. “You’re crazy, old man. I can hit you right here.”

I started to take the Luger from my pocket, but Uncle Rocco, who was watching from the corner of his eye, shook his head. I let the gun stay in my pocket.

“Then you’re more of a fool than I thought,” Uncle Rocco said easily. “You’d never get out of here alive.” He laughed. “I’m seventy-two, you’re only forty-seven. You’re getting lousy odds. Insurance companies give me four years, they give you twenty-seven.”

Nico sat quietly for a moment. Finally he nodded. “Don Rocco,” he said in a respectful voice, “I apologize. I was angry.”

“It is nothing, my son,” Uncle Rocco said quietly. “Just think before you act. You will find that life will be easier.”

“Yes, Don Rocco,” Nico said, rising from his chair. “I apologize again.”

“Goodbye, my son,” Uncle Rocco said. He watched Nico leave the room, then turned around to me. “Now you know why I want you to get me out. I’m tired of dealing with these crazies.”

“Do you really think he would have done anything?” I asked.

“Who knows?” Uncle Rocco asked. “But he won’t get another chance. I have his first underboss already talking to the Feds. They’ll get him.”

“You deal with the FBI?”

“No,” he answered.

“But you had his man talk to the Feds.”

“That man came to me for advice. He knew I was a man of honor with much experience,” he said quietly. “All I told him is that the Feds would not kill him, and Nico would. What he decided to do was his own choice.” He held out his hand. “Give me the gun.”

I placed the Luger on the desk in front of him. He placed it in the desk drawer, but not before he polished it with a soft rag. “I don’t want any of your fingerprints on it.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And why did you leave it unloaded? I might have been killed.”

Uncle Rocco smiled. “No way. I have a sawed-off shotgun built into the desk aimed at the chair he was sitting in. He would have been blown across the Atlantic Ocean.”

I stared at him. “You lie a lot, Uncle Rocco. What else have you lied to me about?”

He shook his head sadly. “You’re family. I am a man of honor. Whatever I tell you is for your own protection.”

“What protection do I need?” I asked. “I live a straight life. General Avionics is a respected company. All we do is buy airplanes and lease them to airlines. Everything is legitimate.”

My uncle looked up at me sadly. “A Di Stefano is a Di Stefano even if his legal name is Stevens. Maybe the world you live in doesn’t know that, but the world that you were born into knows who you are. Even back in Sicily. That’s why your father went off the mountain in Trapani. Old worlds don’t die, their hatreds and vendettas live on.”

I stared at him. “You haven’t retired, have you?”

He didn’t answer.

“My father said that,” I said bitterly. “Not to trust your word.”

Uncle Rocco looked straight into my eyes. “You have to believe me. I have never betrayed my family.”

“A man of honor,” I said sarcastically. “I haven’t heard that before. Where did you pick that up?”

His voice was cold. “The five biggest families are in New York. They respect me. The Sicilian commission, composed of the most important families, including the Corleones and the Borgettos, honor me as the only American who is their equal. I have never betrayed their trust and respect.”

“If that is true,” I asked, “why are you concerned that someone would kill you?”

“The older men are gone. The young are taking over and they’re all greedy. They can’t wait.”

“What do they want from you?” I asked. “You tell me you’re out of the business.”

Uncle Rocco shook his head. He tapped his temple with a forefinger. “This is what they want. I am the only one left who can communicate between the old world and the new. They know that one word from me, and they would be cut off from the old country.”

“Why should that bother them?”

“Ten to fifteen billion a year,” he said.

“The Sicilians have that much power?”

“They have a worldwide army. They have made deals with the Chinese triads and the Colombian cartels. That gives them thousands of soldiers.” He took a deep breath. “But here in America, it’s not like it used to be. Once we were kings, now we’re scrambling for crumbs. The Americans are getting weaker, each family is becoming smaller and smaller, what with the American government nailing them from all sides with the Rico Act.”

I was silent for a moment. “I still don’t know what you want me to do.”

He stared at me. “How much do you think your business is worth?”

“Maybe two or three billion,” I said.

“How much do you get out of it?”

“Over a million a year.”

He laughed. “Chicken shit.”

I just looked at him.

“What if I could put you into a legitimate investment company with over twenty billion in cash and assets that you would own forty percent of, and earn you more than five million a year?” His voice was dripping honey.

“And who would own the other sixty percent?” I asked.

He nodded. “Other men of honor?”

I shook my head. “Uncle Rocco, Uncle Rocco,” I said, laughing, “that’s too rich for my blood. I’m happy in my own little store.”

“You’re getting more and more like your father,” Uncle Rocco grumbled. “I could have made him into a multimillionaire. But he went his own way.”

“He did all right,” I said. “He had a good business and a good life. What more can any man want?”

Uncle Rocco shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.”

“He didn’t need anyone’s permission to retire.” I watched my uncle silently for a moment, then asked, “Now, how can I help you?”

“First, you take my offer to head up the investment company. After that we begin to buy companies with profit potential. Your company, Millennium Films Corporation, then Shepherd’s oil companies, Jarvis’s Canadian holdings. Outside of your own company, they’re all cash short and losing their asses, but they can be brought up. Then there is a list of other companies we have looked at. It will be up to you to get them all together. It could be like RJR and Nabisco, but cash rich, not on borrowed moneys.” He watched me intently, as if wanting to see my decision before I spoke.

“What do you think the government will do when they find out all of your ‘men of honor’ are in a business like this?” I asked.

“They are not in the company. The company is nothing but legitimate businessmen, Japanese, Europeans, Arabic. The banks are all the big banks. Citicorp, Morgan Stanley, Chase. Stockbrokers, Merrill Lynch, Hutton, Goldman Sachs. Everyone completely straight and blue ribbon.”

“And what do you get out of it?” I asked.

“Out of this,” he said, “I retire completely legit.”

I took a deep breath. “Do you know that I love you, Uncle Rocco?”

“I know,” he said quietly.

“But it won’t work. It’s like a daydream.”

“They are all men of honor. We made an agreement. We have all the money we need. Twenty billion clean. The government has no strings on it, all the taxes have been paid. We will have a legitimate business. For us, the Mafia is over.”

“For you old men it may be over, but the Mafia will never be finished. It’s like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It leans a little more each year, but it never falls.”

Uncle Rocco stared at me. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“You have no choice, Uncle Rocco,” I answered. “You have to stay here. You know too much. You have too much in your head to walk away from them.” I met his eyes. “How long do you think you would last?”

“Your father told me that same thing fifty years ago,” Uncle Rocco said.

“My father was right then,” I said. “And his advice is just as good now.”

Uncle Rocco sighed. “Then what do I do?”

“You seem to have everything under control here,” I said. “Just do what you always did. Fuck all of them.”

“I still want to get Jarvis’s piece back. It’s a big number and I have some partners who want their shares back.”

“I told you I would help you with that,” I said.

“Good.” He smiled suddenly. “Let’s go down to the dining room. I have a surprise for you.”

*   *   *

UNCLE ROCCO LOVED
surprises. This was a big one. There stood Alma Vargas with her eleven-year-old daughter, Angela—named after her father.

Book Three

THERE ARE NO MORE GODFATHERS

1

KIM WAS ANGRY.
“You’re an asshole,” she said. “What the hell do you care if your uncle loses two hundred or four hundred million? He has so much money that he won’t even miss it.”

“He asked me to help,” I said. “After all, he is family.”

“That’s his con,” she said. “He doesn’t give a damn what happens to you. All he wants to do is get you into his spiderweb. You can take care of
his
business, he doesn’t care what happens to the business you built and developed over the years. And you have enough money, you don’t even need his help.”

“Calm down and come to bed, Kim,” I said. “Everything will work out all right.”

“Sure,” she said sarcastically. “You’ll either wind up in jail or in the ground with the others.”

“I’m staying in my own business,” I said. “All I’m doing is straightening things out. Then I’m out of there.”

“Meanwhile, you’re out eighty-five million,” she said bitterly. “I don’t see where he’s going to return the money to you.”

“He’ll return it,” I said stubbornly. “It’s a matter of honor.”

“But you have already signed the agreement with Bradley. You’ve guaranteed him another four hundred million, and his shrewd old lawyer set it up so that you don’t get any stock in the company until all the money is paid in.” She stared at me. “Where did your brains go? You don’t work like that with General Avionics. You make sure that all the t’s are crossed and the i’s are dotted when you make any deal.”

“What are you getting pissed about?” I snapped. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

She turned away from the bed. “And why are you talking to Senator Beaufort to work out a U.S. citizenship for that cunt?” she asked in a strained voice.

“Jarvis was going to get it before he got whacked. Now she has to get the citizenship or the FCC won’t allow her to buy a share in the company, because only Americans can own television or radio stations. They’d never okay my uncle with his record. Rupert Murdoch did it that way, and that was a bigger deal than this,” I answered.

“And if it doesn’t work?” she asked, not looking at me.

“Then Uncle Rocco winds up with the short end of the stick,” I said.

She turned to me. “No, he doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“He’s very smart. He’s already got you on the hook,” she said. “For almost five hundred million dollars. You’ll have to sell General Avionics to pay that off.”

“He’ll come up with the money,” I said.

She met my eyes. “Like he came up with Angelo’s kid. A child with sandy-brown hair and green eyes like yours. Did Angelo look like that?”

I was silent. Angelo had black hair and dark brown eyes.

“Your uncle paid her to get out of the country when she wanted to marry you. You told me that,” she said.

I shook my head. “I have a big mouth.”

“You were both fucking her,” she said.

“Not at the same time,” I said.

“Close enough,” she said. “The kid could be yours.”

“Crazy,” I said.

Then I saw the tears on her cheeks. “Men are so stupid.”

I reached for her hand. “I’m not that stupid,” I said. “I have you.”

She buried her face in my chest. “I’m afraid,” she whispered, “that you’re going to lose everything you worked for.”