Jack of Diamonds (59 page)

‘Oh yeah, of course. Well, she uses her list and the rich start to come. First just a few husbands with their wives or rich guys with their girlfriends, and Bridgett’s right. Some – in fact, most – like to gamble. What you gotta unnerstan’ about the respectable rich and even the not so respectable, the men all know each other. Word gets around. Nothing the rich like better than a classy holiday in the sun, “wid compliments”.’

Lenny paused. ‘But that ain’t the secret of Bridgett’s success. Most of the wives and girlfriends don’t gamble and they don’t know each other. Texas don’t know Alabama, don’t know New York State, don’t know Nebraska, don’t know Washington State, if you get what I mean. That’s how come the GAWP Bar’s such a great idea. Every night the rich dames get together for cocktails and to listen to the piano player. But that ain’t the real attraction. The dames like to get to know each other, to gossip, exchange addresses, make friends, just like their menfolk. The GAWP Bar is like this exclusive club where the rich dames come to dish the dirt. Ain’t nothing like it in America ever. Mrs Fuller’s got the class to go wid it and she knows how to mix ’n’ fix. The dames love her – she’s one of them. They tell her everything. She keeps her lists and soon she knows more about the rich ’n’ famous than anybody in America. But she’s discreet, they know she won’t blab – see no evil, hear no evil and keep your trap shut, that’s her.

‘Every year she invites them back to the El Marinero. Not the husbands – the wives and girlfriends.’ Lenny paused and raised his eyebrows. ‘Ain’t no guy gonna gamble at any other casino in Las Vegas. His wife, girlfriend, she ain’t gonna let him go no place else now she’s a faithful member of the GAWP Bar. Bridgett runs the best club, the classiest venue in town. Soon it ain’t just winter, the El Marinero is full most all year round. Take it from me, Mrs Fuller is the real deal.’

‘So, with such a success on your hands, why the Firebird?’

Lenny gave me a foolish half grin. ‘Well, yeah, it’s Mrs Fuller again. Come, lemme show you the future of gambling in Las Vegas.’

‘You mean it’s not the Flamingo?’

He swung the car around and we moved away smoothly. ‘Yeah, of course, whenever it’s finished, but she believe there’s room for more. She point out we cain’t accommodate all the high rollers and dames who wanna come to the El Marinero. She says sawdust casinos, they a thing of the past. The war is over; now we should build a casino with a hunnerd rooms, all
en suite
, with three, maybe four luxury penthouses as well. Her idea is we make a luxury resort for the rich
only
. Everything “comped”: wives, girlfriends get to use all the amenities so long as their guys spend big at the tables. She says it’s possible to attract three times the number of patrons we got already. Post-war America gonna boom.’

‘So, this time they listen, right?’

Lenny grinned and shook his head. ‘Mafiosi don’t listen to dames, Jack. What does a dumb broad know, anyhow? They long since forgot it was her idea about the rich high rollers and the GAWP Bar. Besides, Accardo took the credit for the idea of investing money so it don’t go to the taxation. He says the El Marinero suits us just fine; he don’t agree Las Vegas and gambling gonna be the future, an opportunity for the Mobsters to turn legitimate. We already got what we want, a small casino the feds don’t even notice. He can skim a bit off the top and launder money. Far as he concerned, it the perfect arrangement. Why change?’

‘Skim? Launder? You’re losing me, Lenny.’

‘Yeah, I forgot, you don’t know the business. “Skim” means we take maybe ten per cent of the winnings in cash before we declare the profit to the state. Launder is when you bring in dirty money from outa town and you put it through the casino as your cash float, so it come out the other side washed clean. For any godfather, that’s the main benefit of a casino. Now Mrs Fuller wants to build something bigger, a luxury resort.’

I was gazing out at the brilliant blue desert sky, as Lenny continued. He’d always been a good talker, and clearly this town was his passion.

‘Like I said, Chicago ain’t convinced. Accardo is certain the Jews gonna fuck up big time wid building the Flamingo, and he could be right. The building, the site, it ain’t goin’ good, they over deadline, over budget. Rumour says Bugsy Siegel’s stealing from his own Mob, that he’s got two-and-a-half million bucks of New York’s money in a Swiss bank account in the name of Virginia Hill.’

‘Lenny, why are you telling me all this? You’ve hired me to play the piano!’

‘Jack, I know you’ve come a long way – Canada, then near across America. You must be beat, man, but if you gonna stay in Las Vegas, you should unnerstan’ who you working for. Things ain’t never what they seem to be here. Everything is fine, so long as everybody mind their own business. Everything on the surface legit, but unnerneath? Unnerstan’ we still gangsters. Every casino got a cleanskin like me runnin’ the joint. Some investors ain’t even Mobsters, they just businesspeople got themselves a good investment. Mafiosi don’t always own the majority shares neither. They like to hide behind legitimate business investors. But the Mobs own the skim and they got the money-laundering facility, also some nice legitimate profits. They run the gambling and the strong-arm bad-debt collecting.’ Lenny glanced at me. ‘Jack, step on the wrong toes in this town and suddenly you gonna disappear.’

‘Well, thanks for the warning, Lenny.’ Had I known all this when he offered me a job, if I’d have accepted. But now, under this brilliant sky, I felt like a new man, and Lenny had trusted me enough to be honest. I decided to trust him in return. ‘I guess I’ll be working for gangsters, right?’

Lenny didn’t answer directly. ‘People are the same everywhere. They just want to have a good time, relax a little. For ten years during prohibition the Sicilians and the Jews were where the action was. Everyone had a personal bootlegger – judges, doctors, big businessmen – they all buying their liquor from us. Do ya think those cocksucker senators and congressmen in Washington stopped drinkin’ for ten years? Or whoring? Course they fuckin’ didn’t. Ferchrissakes, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, ain’t that what America is all about? Check the goddamn Declaration of Independence! We give them what they want and that’s why they tolerate us. That’s what we do, except here it’s all legal.’

‘What about prostitution?’ I asked, thinking of the twins. ‘Is that legal here?’

‘Not right here in Las Vegas, but near enough. It’s just a hop, skip ’n’ jump to the county line.’ He laughed. ‘On the other hand, one of your patrons picks himself up a nice-looking gal in your piano bar, she ain’t gonna tell him it ain’t legal and to keep his money in his wallet to buy his wife roses. Besides, the local cops know the drill. The Mormon pricks that run everything here depend on us for the majority of their state taxes. They ain’t stoopid, they don’t do in-depth investigation. This is American apple-pie land. Everything’s legit and we ain’t gonna spoil that none, no sirree, this is a crime-free city and everyone gonna see it stay that way – the I-talians, the New York Jews, the Irish, all of us.’

‘What about drugs? I’ve read it’s the new street crime in America.’

‘Not so new, Jack. But that’s nigger stuff. The Mafiosi don’t run drugs; no way, man! That stuff is poison. The niggers can sell it to each other, who fucking cares?’

I thought of Joe and the others in the band. The term ‘nigger’ was so unjust. My old man was a vicious drunk and Joe was the best man I had ever known. But this didn’t seem to be the time to take Lenny to task about such a common, cruel, unthinking and stupid American term.

‘I don’t tolerate staff using here at the casino, not even the kitchen and general staff.’ He paused and glanced at me. ‘Marijuana, weed; you not one of them musicians who uses that shit are ya, Jack?’

‘Lenny, I don’t even drink!’

‘The last thing we want around the hotels and casinos is police looking for drugs. It’s the one thing the Mormons won’t tolerate. If I find any staff using here, they’re out on their sweet ass.’

‘Yeah, well, thanks, you’ve kind of answered all my questions and much more, but I’m curious to know if I’ll be working for you or Mrs Fuller.’

‘Bridgett Fuller runs GAWP, so you’ll be working for her, Jack.’

‘So, I guess she’ll teach me the ways of the casino?’

Lenny laughed. ‘Sure, but I’ll be there also.’

‘And I’ll take my instructions from her?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay, then let’s go meet her. Lenny, I’m grateful for the advice.’

‘Jack, we buddies, I want you to come and work wid us. I think you gonna enjoy it. But you right, you gotta see Mrs Fuller and she gotta see you.’ Lenny paused. ‘Sometimes these things, they don’t work out.’

‘Oh, is there something I should know? Something you haven’t told me?’

‘Jack, you were never easy to bullshit. GAWP, that’s her bag, that’s her strength wid Chicago, she got complete control of that aspect and it the main reason why we building the Firebird, so . . .’ he hesitated, a sheepish grin on his face, ‘it only natural she want to decide who works for her, who gonna play in the new piano bar.’

‘Oh . . . I see. So, it’s not a done deal?’ I’d come a long way on the strength of Lenny’s letter and a single phone call. Now it seemed that the job was only mine if Mrs Fuller agreed. ‘Couldn’t you have told me this on the phone, buddy?’

Lenny shrugged expressively. ‘Jack, I know you two gonna hit it off. But she got six piano players from LA and they take turns, two weeks each, to play in the GAWP Bar. They all old guys, left over from the silent movies. In my opinion the Firebird gonna need new blood, young guy like you.’ Lenny smiled. ‘You the best, Jack. I told her she ain’t heard nothing yet.’

‘But, naturally, she’s not prepared to take your word for it?’ Before Lenny could react, I added, ‘Well, that’s hardly surprising. I’m a Canadian, she’s never heard of me. Why didn’t you arrange for a record?’

‘Hey, I never thought of that!’ Then, almost as quickly, he added, ‘But understand, Jack, the GAWP Bar ain’t just good music, it’s also personality. The rich broads, they gotta like you. There’s an I-talian word,
simpatico . . .’

‘Yeah, I know what it means.’

‘Well then, you cain’t send no personality rating on no gramophone record.’

I was beginning to see why Lenny had spent all this time building up Mrs Fuller. ‘So, it’s really not up to you at all?’

Lenny frowned. ‘Jack, gimme a break, will ya? I’m front of house. What do I know about running a casino, eh? When the Firebird comes on stream, if the authorities come askin’ questions I supposed to own the joint. I got some influence, sure.’ He tapped the rim of the steering wheel. ‘Mrs Fuller wants to rehearse the new piano player at the El Marinero for the next six months, before we open on The Strip. She wants a young guy wid all-round musical talent who’ll be popular with the high-roller broads.’ He grinned. ‘So, I told her I knew just the man.’

‘Thanks, Lenny.’

‘Hey, man, no harm done. If it don’t work out, you have yourself a nice vacation while you here, compliments of us; free room, chow, give you a chance to look around, check out the scene. If you not happy, we send you back to freeze your butt off in Toronto. Or you stay in America, get yourself another piano job in some jazz joint. I got you a Musicians Union card and, believe me, that ain’t easy. We don’t control that union, that’s another Mob. Somebody hadda lean on somebody.’

I was silent for a while. Despite being somewhat piqued, I knew Lenny was right. I’d always wanted to work in America and I was more than happy to have a reason to leave Toronto. After all, Las Vegas was just another form of scuffing, another Moose Jaw with legal gambling, poker on tap and a chance to see if I was good enough to make it as a jazz piano player in America. That was pretty much all I’d ever wished for.

‘Lenny, thanks for levelling with me. I’ll audition for Mrs Fuller and if she doesn’t like my playing, no hard feelings. If she does, then I’ll play a week for her GAWP Bar patrons, to see if they take to me. If they don’t, then I’ll move right along. Maybe chance my hand in LA or New York. No, you don’t need to pay my way. I’ve got enough money.’ I grinned. ‘Or maybe I’ll stick around and see if I can sit in on a few poker games and do some scuffing someplace else in town.’

Lenny smiled. ‘Hey hey, Jack, you was always your own man. I appreciate what you just said. If Bridgett likes you, then you spend the next six months working up a great routine for her new and improved GAWP Bar at the Firebird. Mrs Fuller, she smart, she on the ball, but you right, buddy, she don’t know you. She’s only got my word. She want to be sure you the right person for the Firebird.’

‘Lenny, I understand. Only one thing . . .’

‘Yeah, what is it, Jack?’

‘If it doesn’t work out, may I keep the Musicians Union card?’

Lenny laughed, clearly relieved that I hadn’t made a fuss. ‘It the least I can do, Jack. I apologise for bringin’ you all this way for an audition; it ain’t dignified, but I know Mrs Fuller, she gonna like you. We gonna build the best new piano bar in America, just for you, man. We already got you your baby grand Steinway. Nobody else played it yet ’cept the Latino guy who tuned it.’

Lenny slowed down, and pulled off the road and stopped the Cadillac in front of a high fence topped with barbed wire, surrounding a block of flat land that seemed to stretch away into the desert. There were workmen everywhere and a buzz and rumble of machines – what you’d call a busy site. It was by no means as large as the Flamingo site, but Lenny gazed at it proudly and announced, ‘Well, buddy, here it is, the Firebird!’