Chicago Wipe-Out

down what he ate and if he grunted or burped.

On this particular night, however, the Capowas not laughing. The time had come to face a pressure or two head-on.

First off, this Bolan punk. The kid had been allowed to run too high, wide and handsome for too damn long, and it was about time someone shoved a cold bar up his rear and lowered him slowly into one of those blast furnaces down at East Chicago.

Secondly, there was this matter of shameful insubordination and maybe even open rebellion within the family ranks. When high-ranking and responsible officers starting running around and assing it up like common street soldiers, then something was certainly going very sour with the organization. Gio would have to make an example of this latest trespass, even though things went way back between the Capoand this old buddy from the street days under Capone, this Pietro Lavallo whom Gio in the old days always called Golden Peterbecause he always had such luck with the girls. So now this little Golden Peter was the magnificent fuck-up, Pete the Hauler, and old times never paid the way for new ones. Pete Lavallo would have to pay his own way now; it was the price of manhood in a disciplined society.

And now this latest blow, the exclamation point for this matter of family discipline. Sure, the Donhad known for a long time that his old pal Jake had been agitating for something. But this? And at such a time?

The Caposcowled and drummed his fingers on the polished teakwood surface of his Chinese desk and tried to read the minds of these three young men standing here and telling him about a street war right within the family. Did they really believe it theirselves? Were they hoping their information was good — or bad? Was everybody looking for their Donto step down and place the mantle of power on younger shoulders? Were they looking for a shoot-out between the oldsters, and a whole new deal?

This tough Larry Turk was telling him, 'There is a Phil Tarrantino with our friends in Jersey, Mr. Giovanni. He was made by way of Danno Giliamo, and in fact he was with Danno in England on that Bolan hunt over there. He got hurt during that, Danno tells me, and he's been just sort of recuperating and taking it easy. Danno last saw him on Monday — he said he was drifting toward Vegas. Maybe some light action in the heat out there might help him get back on his feet.

'So I don't know, Mr. Giovanni — I can't locate no handle on the boy in Vegas. It could be that he just drifted this far, and got stuck by the storm and is just waiting a chance to move on. I'd say...'

'When we're in this office here,' the Capoinstructed kindly, 'you can call me Gio. All of you. Okay? It sounds better.'

'Sure, Gio.'

'I wish you'd brought this boy out here so I could talk to him myself personal. I like to hear it right from the horse's mouth.'

Benny Rocco shifted about nervously and admitted, 'I made that decision, Gio, and I'm sorry you don't like it. The boy was nervous as hell and I could tell that he would blow right out if I started pressuring him. I wanted to keep him friendly.'

'Well, maybe you handled it right after all, Benny,' Giovanni replied. 'At least...' The steely gaze shifted to Charles Drago, the chief doorman and undeclared security boss during the club's normal operations. 'At least I got to say Charlie used his head, getting more than one witness to what was being told.'

Drago smiled soberly and said, 'Thanks, Gio. I don't know why, I just didn't think you'd want to be bothered with — I mean, it didn't seem that important at the time. You know how this stuff goes around. I figured it was just some more of that gossip always drifting up from the Loop.'

'Yeah,' Giovanni replied sourly.

'That stuff about the police cars is what turned me around,' Rocco stated quietly.

'Yeah,' the Donagreed, slipping even deeper into the thronelike chair. 'With good cause. Jake has more personal clout than even I got. I should've took him off that territory a long time ago, I guess. The way him and City Jim have been cozying it up these past few years... I guess... well, so you boys think it's straight stuff, eh? Turk? You're willing to risk everything you've built up on the strength of what this will of the wisp from Jersey told you with miles of phone wires between you?'

'It checks out, Gio,' Turk assured his Capo. 'I sent two boys around there, my own personal boys, to really look it over. Jake has got about a hundred boys all right, mobbed up at Manny's. None of 'em even knew what they were doing there, except they were told they're going to be riding in police cars. Then these crew chiefs came out of the office and threw my boys out. I mean flat tossed their asses out in the snow.'

'That's a carpet offense right there,' Rocco muttered, adding, 'They're cooking something, I'd bet my life on that, Gio.'

Drago put in, 'Jake was sure anxious to have a cozy talk with Turk, I know that much. And he sure put the soft pressure on me to keep it to myself.'

'You're saying that he was trying to recruit Turk,' Giovanni observed.

'It sure would make a person think so, the way he was quieting it around.'

'That just shows how crazy he really is,' Turk muttered.

'Well I guess I don't like it at all,' the boss declared, scowling even harder. 'I just can't picture Jake coming all out that way. Sly stuff, yeah, maybe I could picture that. But this coming all out... even to joining up with or recruiting Bolan... I can't see Jake doing that.'

'If you'll pardon me, Gio,' said Rocco, 'it does sound pretty sly to me. If he's moving in under cover of this Bolan thing, and maybe even using this boy to run interference for him, then I'd have to say that was a pretty rotten trick.'

'Yeah you're right there, Benny,' the Capomused. His gaze shifted to Larry Turk. 'I proposed you, Turk, you know that — for this thing you've got now.'

'Yessir, and I appreciate the honor, you can believe that.'

'I didn't do it for honors. I told the council you are the only man for the job. And I sincerely believe that.'

'Thanks, Gio. I won't let you down.'

'I know you won't. Now... about this other matter. Pete the Hauler. Of course, we're not supposed to discuss this beforehand. But... well, you understand, this is a really unusual thing we got going here tonight, I mean all of it together.' He drummed his fingers on the desk top for a moment of quiet thought, then he sighed and said, 'Light me a cigar, Charlie.'

In misery, Turk thought, Well here's where Pete the Hauler gets let off.

Drago had produced a silver cigar holder and carefully placed in it a roll of leaves that were valued at approximately $50, considering the expense of having a box specially flown up each week from Jamaica. He lit the cigar, then removed it from the holder and passed it to the Capo. The silver holder went back into Drago's pocket and the Capowent on with his 'forbidden discussion' with Larry Turk.

'But listen now, Turk. I know that what happened down there this evening between you and Pete is just like you claim. I know that, mainly because I know you, and especially because I know Golden Peter Lavallo. He and Louis were about the next thing to asshole buddies... I've even wondered about those two sometimes. Well, anyway, I can understand how he could go off his rocker that way and want a piece of Louis' assassin for himself. I mean, you just naturally understand these things.'

Here it comes, thought Larry Turk.

'Understanding is one thing, of course,' the Capoquietly went on. 'Discipline is something else again. You know, with all respects to the dead, I never much liked Louis Aurielli. I went along with him mainly for Pete's sake. I'm telling you this so you'll understand what I'm going to say next. Pete Lavallo and me go back a long ways. And I love that boy, I really love 'im. But I love this thing we got, all of us, a whole lot more. And because of that, I'm going to send Pete back down the ladder. I'm going to take away everything he's got. Can you understand that? Everything. I'm going to strip him bare, and I'm going to exile him. I think I'll send him to Arizona or maybe New Mexico. And if he can behave himself out there for a year or two, I'll let him come back. But he'll come back just as stripped as he was when he left. Now that's what I'm going to do to Golden Peter