the Bahamas. He told him about Haze Richards and the Republic Airlines flight. . the tape Rellica shot and the man who attacked him in the Savoy. He ended with the troubling argument with Mickey in the boathouse and the feeling that he'd overplayed his hand. When he was finished, Kaz sat there digesting it all.
'What's your connection with Mickey's sister?' 'She's a friend. I've known her since I was fifteen, she was seven.'
'Bullshit. You've got a case on her,' Kaz said.
'Mickey is probably going to take over now that his father is dead,' Ryan said, trying to change the subject.
'So the Alos are trying to put Haze Richards in the Oval Office. . Ain't that a fucking nightmare?' Kaz thought for a minute. 'A campaign would be a great laundry; the money can't be traced.'
Ryan picked up his coffee. It was cold.
'When you saw the story about Haze going to the Teamster meeting, you said A. J.'s fingerprints were all over this. What'd you mean?'
'A. J. Teagarden doesn't let Haze do anything where he doesn't already know what the result is going to be. If Haze is going to New York to try and solve that strike, thenyou can bet its already a done deal,' Ryan said.
'Mickey could set that up easy.'
They sat in silence and thought about it.
'Y' know what doesn't figure?' Ryan finally said, bringing Kaz back from his thoughts. 'Here, we got Brenton Spencer, this prime-time network anchorman who's got this bulletproof TV persona, always in control. He's hosting a nationally televised debate and, because one of the candidates calls him to task for his attitude on stage, he completely loses it. I don't buy it. People like Brenton Spencer don't act on random emotions. I think Spencer may be in on it.'
'Why don't we talk to him and find out?' Kaz replied, realizing he finally knew what his next move should be.
Chapter 32
The press had been milling there for hours, adding their gum wrappers and cigarette butts to a sidewalk already littered with beggars and pigeon shit. A. J.'s plan had been for Haze to go in alone and emerge from the room a few hours later, victorious.
Haze moved into the old building on East Fifty-seventh Street. The press swarmed. Sun guns went on, directional mikes were unsheathed like Wilkinson swords, questions were fired in an overlapping flow of hyperbole and skepticism.
'No comment,' Haze said to the clattering motor-drive lenses. 'I'm trying to find Bud Rennick.'
A door opened and Bud stuck his massive head out. Camera lenses focused.
Shutters grabbed milliseconds of pictorial truth.
Bud grabbed his jacket, put it on as Tom Bartel came out of the same room and joined him in the hall.
'Anybody expecting me?' Haze asked dryly. CNN had elected to go with the story live and their 'on-site' producer was pushing his cameraman forward.
'We're live,' he was saying as if his fellow newsmen cared. 'Outta the way.'
'Come on in,' Tom Bartel said, shaking Haze's hand. They moved into the room and closed the door, leaving the press in reportus interruptus.
The high-ceilinged conference room was a rectangular war zone. Paper cups, empty Winchell's boxes and crumpled yellow legal sheets littered the battlefield, dead reminders of the struggle. The room had been cleared of business agents and lawyers for Haze's visit.
'We have a deal,' Bud said. 'I caved on all Tom's points.'
'I'm a happy — camper,' Tom Bartel said, grinning.
Haze sat down at the table, opened his briefcase, and took out a deck of cards. He finally grinned. 'Anybody wanna play gin rummy?'
Two hours later, they walked out into the glare of the TV cameras. Bud put up his hand for quiet over the din of shouted questions.
'Excuse me, excuse me. . be quiet. We have a statement.' They waited until the news crews settled down.
'We've reached an accord,' Tom Bartel said. 'We've signed a tentative agreement, which I'm sure we'll be able to get ratified within hours by the association.'
A loud gasp went up from the pod people and the liveat-fives.
'Speaking for the Teamsters,' Bud concluded, 'I want to say that we're happy. I've been empowered by my board to accept this tentative agreement and I'd like to tell the brotherhood … Get back in your trucks, guys, this thing is over.'
Through it all, Haze said nothing. He stood between them, looking grateful.
'Governor Richards, Governor Richards. . Stan Hooks, CBS Business Report,' a tall, bald reporter yelled. 'What did you bring to these negotiations to produce this amazing result?'
'I didn't settle this dispute, I want to make that clear. I simply brought to the table some new cards and an open mind,' he said truthfully. 'This was not a dispute where labor and management couldn't come to terms. This was simply an example of ending the divisiveness and malting good things happen because good people on both sides of the issue are trying diligently to solve problems. I was glad to be part of it. I believe America can work again if we let it.'
In his park-view room in the Sherry Netherland Hotel, A. J. watched the live coverage on CNN while he ate his room-service lunch. He had a smile on his face and pasta sauce in his beard.
'Un-fucking-believable.' He grinned at the TV screen.
Chapter 33
They started showing up at noon. Sad-faced visitors in black suits with silk shirts and hand-painted ties. First to arrive were the Medinas. With his son beside him, the don from New York sat in the back of his maroon., custom-made Rolls-Royce with the bulletproof door panels. His two creepy Vietnamese bodyguards were riding in the front seat.
Bart 'the Doctor' DiAgusta arrived at one, with his wife and three sons. They'd flown commercially from Chicago. The Doctor had made his name by dismembering his enemies with a chain saw in a sixties business dispute with the New York Colombos. He rolled down the window in his rented limo and looked at the two Alo guards under the supervision of Pulacargo Depaulo, who was a cousin of Mickey's and fresh off the boat.
'DiAgusta,' he said to the recent arrival from Palermo, who found the name on his guest list and checked it, asking politely in his fractured English if the driver could let DiAgusta of at the main house and bring the car back down because it was going to get crowded up there.
Penny was in full mourning and greeted them all, thanking them for their condolences.
Mickey was in the study, receiving eachguest se rately, talking softly, assuring every one that his father had died in peace, that the family would endure.
Some had come out of respect, but all were looking forward to the open-casket funeral where they could make absolutely sure Joseph Alo was one-hundred-percent stone-cold dead. Then they would deal with Mickey and decide whether he was strong enough to hold on to what the Mos had.
Lucinda was upstairs. She had heard about her father's death on television and had come home to the big
