FOR BLOOD AND LOYALTY

Chapter Seven

The walls were old and wood paneled, the comfortable room wasn’t huge but not exactly small, and while some people called it gambling, to the winners it was just hanging out. Although: in a room full of made men, it was a pastime. A joy. An escape from their wives. Except for Luigi, last name Carcaterra, 71 now and feeling his age, all of a sudden getting more conscious.

“You gotta get those walls checked out,” he said. “Get an inspector in here.”

“For what?” Jackie Iacone replied as he looked at the posters on the wall, one of James Cagney and another of Steve McQueen. “You don’t think I don’t personally sweep this place?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Luigi told him.

But being that they, 5 of the 7 guys in the room were seated around a card table in the private back room/office of Ralph’s Pizzeria, aka Jackie’s headquarters, a few miles past Victor’s gym down Francis Lewis Boulevard, Jackie was wondering if Luigi was just trying to distract him to pocket his poker money. So he asked him, “What then?”

            “You don’t understand. With all the grease in this place? Mold? It’s all fucked up. You probably got cancer behind those walls.”

            “Well then you’re welcome to lose your money at any of my many other fine dining establishments” Jackie replied as he laid out his hand and cleared the table.

            Jackie loved winning. He loved taking. But he hated losing, a lot. He was a cheapskate at heart. But while Luigi was 5’11” and broad, Jackie was only 5’6”, slight and balding with glasses. At 62, he looked harmless.

            But regardless, he’d slit your throat in a second.

            Jackie was as vicious as they came. However, he was more than a thug. He was cunning. He was an earner. Plus, for over 7 years now, since the boss got out he’d been an official capo with a crew of killers underneath him. Like Lorenzo Vissi, his favorite recruit, who was 34, well-liked, tall, lean and dangerous. Although right now he was just seated on the couch over in the corner, with Luigi’s driver, reading a newspaper. Lorenzo was the kind of handsome, smooth operator you didn’t see coming.

            However, Luigi had his own crew out in Brooklyn. Like Jackie’s, they too were hardcore. And bigger. Except while his had a knack for raping the unions, Jackie’s team was after the simple things in life: gambling and extortion, shylocking and drugs. Although, they’d never admit the latter. After all, Jackie didn’t consider weed a drug. He also never acknowledged that his guys shook down the local dealers. Drugs were a no-no. Which was kind of hypocritical since Jackie was arrested for selling heroin in the 80s.

            But then again, almost the entire family was slinging that stuff back then including two of Jackie’s closest comrades who were at the table with them. Two guys on his crew who he’d come up with and trusted his whole life: Nino Carbone, 55, a stocky bookmaker who looked like a shady accountant that would rob your grandmother, and Greg DePalma, 66, Jackie’s husky, gruff, chief enforcer with catcher’s mitt, cinderblock hands who’d spent 16 years in Attica for murder and another 4 in the Feds for assault.

            Greg enjoyed the violence, and Jackie reaped the profits. But, Luigi was a cut above. He was on the family’s administration, not just a captain anymore but also the acting consigliere while the official one was on house arrest getting ready to do time and Luigi had it in the back of his mind to make sure the crews were in line. Because even though he and Jackie, together, had done time, he always knew it was only a matter of time. One day in the future Luigi knew he’d be back in the pen again. After all, it was only 4 years ago that he wrapped up a 12 year sentence in Allenwood and only a few months since he got off supervised release. He got caught up in that whole Donnie Brasco bullshit.

            But now, while he was free, and getting older he wanted to stack as much money for his loved ones as possible and stay out of jail for as long as possible in case the next time he didn’t come back. So Luigi came out to Queens not to play Hold ‘Em but to get the low down on what Jackie was up to. Especially since he’d been hearing people talk more and more about a young kid that Jackie had on his crew. However, he also heard that certain people wanted to see this kid wear a button, like his father had.

            So he asked him, “How’s your boy doin’?”

            “Which one?” Jackie replied.

            “The one who used to be a boxer. We went to his fights.”

            “Walter’s kid?”

            “Yeah, what’s he up to? The concrete says he’s your blue chip now.”

            But Jackie’s soldiers looked to him to see what his answer would be, so he thought about it for a second, before responding. And then he said, simply, dismissively:

            “He’s young.”