Chapter Four
The red carpet
'Here's what you do, Joe,' instructed the crisp voice on the long distance telephone hookup. 'First of all, you take every measure to see that our VIP enjoys his stay in your town That means you attend to every detail. Airlines, buses, trains, private flying outfits car rental agencies cabs — anything that moves that he may wish to use, you see to it that he gets firsr clasi service. And don't forget to pass the word around to any place within fifty miles that may offer him accomodations and I mean all the hotels, motels, casinos, clubs, bars, cafes, service stations, everything. Don't let one stone go unturned if it could possibly be used for his comfort. Is it clear?'
'Yes sir, that's pretty clear,' Joe Stanno assured his boss. 'And please tell the commissioners that I'm sure sorry about that lip-up. I mean, sometimes you take every precaution, you know, to extend the proper hospitality, and still a person manages to pop in unexpectedly. We, uh, just didn't have a chance to get a reception -eady, that's all.'
. 'Forget the spilt milk, Joe. Just fee to it now that our VIP remains comfortable until the official delegation gets there. You attend to all those little details, eh?'
'Yes sir, I'll see to them personally.'
'Right. And avoid direct contact if it's at all possible. Let's not take any chances on another slip-up. Just keep him comfortable until we arrive.'
'Don't worry,' Stanno replied, 'he'll be comfortable.'
'Fine. Now, I'm sending you some help, so all the highways heading out of that town will be thick with personnel. Any lirection he may think of taking out of there in a private car, he'll still get the same warm hospitality. So just worry about your own immediate area, we're taking care of the rest. You have enough local personnel to cover everything, right?'
'Yes sir. I'm tapping into the freelancers just to make sure. Don't worry, there's no place he can touch down in Vegas that he won't be well met.'
'Fine, Joe,' the national enforcer said warmly. 'We're depending on you to handle things until we can get there. One of the commissioners is wondering about that finance team that's visiting you. He wants to know if the project is stymied for sure.'
'For the time being, yeah,' Stanno said, his voice dropping a pitch. 'Our VIP took the deal over clean. I'm sorry I...'
'Don't be sorry, Joe, just be efficient. I'm sure we can persuade your VIP to return the matter to our hands. It would be a shame if we couldn't, though. This commissioner tells me the thing was cleared all the way. It's going to be, uh, embarrassing to have to back out now.'
'Well what's the most important? The deal or the guy? I mean the VIP. What should I be...'
'It's one and the same, isn't it, Joe? Make the guy comfortable, we'll get the deal back. Right? Lose the . guy and you lose the deal. Right?'
'Yes sir, I guess that's right,' Stanno muttered. 'Okay. I'm keeping that finance team right close by — I mean standing by… you know. If we can turn things back our way again, then we'll be all ready to go as if nothing had ever happened. Right?'
'Right, Joe,' Talifero purred. 'And this commissioner here says somebody had better hope so. He says a quarter-mil is a lot of deal. I think he's right, Joe.'
'Don't worry, so do I,' Stanno quietly agreed. 'Okay. How long before I can expect you?'
'They're getting the plane ready now. Say, uh, about four hours.'
'Great. I'll try to have the thing in good shape by the time you get here.'
'Now dammit, Joe, I didn't tell you to get things in shape by the time I get there. Now did I?'
'No sir,' Joe the Monster growled.
'I told you to see to our VIP's comfort. Now that's all, Joe. I told you to avoid direct contact. Right?'
'Right, Mr. Tal — yes sir, I understand that.'
'Don't get your tail in the air over this busted deal. The big thing is the man himself. Tell me you understand that, Joe.'
'I understand that, sir,' Stanno meekly replied.
A click from the eastern end signaled the close of the conversation. Stanno quietly hung up, his face a mask of cold fury as he turned to his companions.
'I had to eat shit,' he announced in a choked voice. 'That's the first time I — listen, I ain't eating no more.'
'Which one was that?' asked a crewchief. 'Pat or Mike?'
'Who the hell would know?' Stanno growled. 'Look at one, you're looking at both. Talk to one, you're talking to both. All I know is, he made me eat shit. And they'll be here about six o'clock.'
The other man took a nervous pull on a cigarette and said, 'You mean the brothers are coming here personal?'
'That's what I said!' the Vegas enforcer muttered. 'What's more, we're being invaded. From all directions. They're coming in from everywhere, taking over our action.'
'So whatta we do, Joe?' another chief asked quietly.
'Whatta we do?y Stanno showed them a sick smile. 'We do what the brothers tell us, that's what we do. They >vant the town buttoned down — and solid. Thank Christ we're ahead of them on that. Did Ringer get all those calls, made?'
'He's still at it, Joe. Want me to check?'
'Yeah, check,' the boss said.
The crew chief hurried out of the room and Stanno went over to a window to peer through a crack in the heavy draperies.
'How do you button down a whole damn desert, though?' he asked in a thick voice. 'I bet that bastard's out there somewheres right now, looking at us through a scope. With a quarter million of the company's bucks to keep him warm. And laughing. How the hell does one guy stay so lucky?'
'I wouldn't call it luck,' the remaining crew chief ventured. 'Not with fourteen bodies laying out down there. I don't think this guy is working alone, Joe. I think he's got hisself a crew. Come to think of it, there might be a whole gang out there looking at us through scopes.'
Stanno made a gargling sound and turned quickly away from the window. 'Let's don't go making things worse'n they might be,' he said.
'He had a crew at L.A. that time,' the gunner pointed out.
'Yeah but I...'
The enforcer broke off to receive the announcement from his returning lieutenant. 'Ringer says he's almost through,' the man reported. He rubbed his chin in a nervous gesture and added, 'How many dead boys did we count, down on the road?'
'All of 'em were dead,' Stanno rumbled. 'Tell Ringer I...'
'Wait a minute, Joe. Ringer's talking to Mr. Apostinni right now. He says — well I only counted ten bodies down there. Is that right?'
Stanno squinted at his crew chief and replied, 'Counting the bits and pieces, yeah, four boys and a bagman in each car. That adds up to ten of my fingers. How many of yours?'
'Well, Mr. Apostinni says he was sending out another shipment, besides the finance. He says he was sending us a fink, he says for a termination contract. That would make eleven...'
'Bullshit!' Stanno yelled. 'We don't double up nothing on these finance shipments. He don't go ringing in no terminals at a time like that!'
'He did just the same, Joe. He says it was a urgent...'
'Bullshit!' Joe the Monster snatched up the telephone and punched a button to join the conversation on the alternate line. 'Pardon me,' he announced. 'This is Joe Stanno, Mr. Apostinni. What's this you're telling Ringer about a double shipment?'
A smooth but noticeably flustered voice flowed back in a nervous reply. 'That's right, Joe. I know it's irregular but I had too many things on my hands at once here. I've had observers breathing on me all night, and I
