the Mayfield Road Mob out of Cleveland.”
“I just love civic progress.” She shook her head, smiled wryly. “You and Willie Bioff. That’s a match made in hell.”
“He’s not such a bad guy,” I lied. Again, I played a surmise of mine like it was a fact, saying, “So what if he’s hitting up the movie moguls for some strike-prevention insurance? He’s done okay by the rank and file…going back as far as that soup kitchen he and Browne started.”
She started laughing and I didn’t think she was going to stop.
“Estelle, cut it out, you’re gonna bust a gut…”
“The soup kitchen!” Tears were rolling down her face. “Yeah, yeah, the soup kitchen…couple of philanthropists, that’s Bioff and Browne.” Laughing throughout.
“Okay, okay, so I’m a naive jerk. Let me in on the joke, why don’t you?”
She leaned on her elbow, shaking her head, smiling ear to ear. “That soup kitchen was the biggest scam Willie Bioff ever ran on this burg. That’s what got him and Browne started.”
“How do you mean?”
“They used the joint to launder money, you cute impressionable little hick. They went to Barney Balaban of the B and K chain…”
“I talked to him today, for Bioff. Giving him the same warning about Pegler as I gave you.”
“How is he in bed?”
“Cute, Estelle. Very cute.”
She snorted. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he got screwed. See, after the crash, Balaban got the Stagehands Union to let him get away with a twenty-five percent pay cut. You know, hard times and deflation and all. Then all of a sudden the World’s Fair came in and every kootch show on the midway was needing stagehands and show business in general around here was booming. This next part I love. Balaban is in the hospital for his ulcers, and Willie and George go visit him. They take him flowers and smile at him and ask him how he’s feeling and he says better and smiles back and they inform him that if he doesn’t restore the twenty-five percent pay cut immediately they will call their men out on strike. This would close every one of his four hundred movie theaters. Some treatment for stomach ulcers, huh? Anyway, Balaban said his company couldn’t afford it, and Willie reminded him about the soup kitchen. How there were good Samaritans who donated to it. And Balaban offered ’em a hundred and fifty a week for the soup kitchen, if they’d forget this strike business.”
“And Willie and George grabbed it.”
She gestured with an upraised, lecturing finger. “No. They asked for
“Jesus Christ. Did they get it?”
Knowing chuckle. “They settled for twenty grand. Of course, Browne did use some of the dough for supplies for the kitchen. He bought four cases of canned soup for two dollars and fifty cents each.”
“I always suspected that soup kitchen was some kind of racket.”
“Sure! What else? They sold votes to politicians out of there, too-all those stagehands and their families would vote any way Willie told ’em. That brought in a pretty penny in soup kitchen donations.”
I was impressed. “Estelle, you are one knowledgeable girl. Dean must really trust you to let you in on all this stuff.”
“Ha! What little spider do you think led Bioff and Browne into Nicky’s web in the first place?”
“You?”
Another wry smile. “In case you hadn’t picked up on it, Detective Heller, Browne drinks.”
“Really? My, you
“Shut up, Nate. But
“So?”
“So the night after they took Barney Balaban for twenty grand, they went out on the town. That afternoon they’d bought themselves fancy foreign sportcars, and spiffy new clothes. Bioff likes to look good, good as he can, the fat little greasy bastard. Anyway, guess where they go to celebrate? The 101 Club. Nicks club. Guess how they choose to unwind? With a little game of twenty-six. Guess who the twenty-six girl was? Little ole me.”
I laughed softly. “And guess who started bragging about being in the dough?”
“Exactly right,” she said, green eyes smiling. “I motioned to Nicky and he came over and joined us. Before the night was out we had the whole story.”
“I think I can guess the rest. Nicky told Nitti.”
“Ricca, actually. Little New York and Frankie Rio picked Willie and George up the next day, hauled ’em to the Bismarck. Nitti was in on it, by that time, I’m sure. I don’t know what was said, but the upshot was the Outfit cut themselves in for half.”
“How’d Willie and George take that?”
“The same way they took it when Nitti upped the Outfit’s share to two-thirds, a few years later. Without any fuss, how else do you take something like that? But it paid off for ’em in the long run.”
“It was bound to,” I said. “Nitti’s a financial mastermind, and about as shrewd a planner, as skillful a chessplayer as you could find in the boardroom of the biggest corporation in town.”
“Nate, he
“My mistake.”
She elaborated: “First thing they did for those union Katzenjammer Kids was get Browne elected national president of the IA. He ran once before and lost. Before he had the Outfit’s support, I mean. This time when they held the election, in Columbus back in ’34, there were more gunmen in the room than voting delegates. Lepke Buchalter was the guy in charge.”
“That could sway a fella’s vote.”
“Like Capone said, you can get more with a kind word and a gun than with just a kind word. Anyway, those two horses’ asses have been on the gravy train ever since. They were in New York awhile, where the studios have corporate headquarters-and then they were going to move their office to Washington, at the president’s request, but Nitti vetoed it.”
“What president’s request?”
“You know.
Maybe Montgomery was right about that third term.
She seemed to be winding down, now. “Three years ago they moved the office to Hollywood, and Nicky went with ’em, to keep an eye on them for the boys. He comes back a lot, though. This club’s his first love.”
“I get the feeling Nitti doesn’t trust Willie and George.”
“It’s not George. George is just a tub of fat, guzzling beer all day long. Willie’s the one who might pull a fast one someday.”
“Well, when Willie sent me here to warn you, he hoped it wouldn’t get back to Nitti. Which means I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Nicky about this.”
“Sure, honey. You can trust me.”
“I guess Bioff figures he’s on the spot enough, with this income-tax scare.”
Her expression was thoughtful, businesslike. “Willie Bioff could be about to get caught. A lot of money’s been pouring through his chubby fingers. They been getting brown paper bags of cash for years now, from every major studio you can think of-MGM, Twentieth Century-Fox, Paramount, Warner Brothers, you name it. Willie’s latest scam, Nicky says, is making the studios make him their ‘agent’ for buying raw film stock. He gets a seven percent commission on all film stock the studios buy.”
“A money laundry again?”
“Yeah. But that’s a new idea, and there’s a lot of money to wash out there. Anyway, don’t give me this song-and-dance about Willie Bioff looking after the rank and file. He’s been selling out his own union members, agreeing to wage cuts and longer hours, for as long as he’s been a union boss.”
“How do you feel about that, Estelle? You used to be a working girl.”
She shrugged. “I still am. Willie’s just doing what we all gotta do, Nate. Looking out for himself. You
