"For sure," said Chandler.
"Ah, good."
"A private place," Stefano remarked half sarcastically. "You're hopin' Cord won't find out you're meeting with us, right?"
"Right," Chandler admitted.
"What's he do, hire private dicks?" Stefano asked.
"He doesn't have to," said Chandler. "He's got his own guys. Nothing much happens that he doesn't know."
"Well ... we are sorry about Dave Beck," said Vulcano to Hoffa. "Unfortunately, he was not a man to listen to advice."
"Nobody's advice," said Hoffa. "The lawyers have no confidence the appeals are gonna work. He'll die in the slammer, I imagine." He shook his head. "Nobody's advice."
"So. You will assume the presidency of the Teamsters Union now," said Vulcano. "Is there any problem?"
Hoffa shrugged. "What problem?"
"Do you need any help?"
"There was never a man who couldn't use and appreciate a little help," said Hoffa. "But I've got it in line pretty good."
"Okay," said Stefano. "We came out here to talk about something else."
"The Cords," said Hoffa. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch, so help me!"
Carlo Vulcano, hunched over the table, leaned toward Hoffa. "Business, my friend," he muttered, his lips fluttering so a trickle ran from the corner of his mouth. "Killing a man is very bad for business. If you want to work with us, you will have to subdue your temper and your resentments and put out of mind all thought of killing."
Hoffa smiled his toothy smile. "It was a figure of speech, Don Carlo."
Vulcano nodded, accepting the assurance. "We don't speak for everyone," he said to Chandler, "but there is agreement among many of the men of honor that further intrusion into Vegas by the Cords will be detrimental to our interests."
"To put the thing in the simplest words," said Stefano, "the revenues from the hotels are secondary to us. We need the casinos for money laundering and other purposes."
"You may not be able to count on Cuba much longer," said Chandler. "Meyer Lansky couldn't persuade the Cords to invest in the Riviera, and I'd have thought that was as sweet a deal as anybody could make, what with Lansky's connections and expertise. I can only figure the Cords know something even Lansky doesn't know."
"Which would be what?" asked Vulcano.
"Bat's mother is Batista's niece. Maybe they got inside information," said Chandler.
"Naah," said Stefano.
"It is essential," said Vulcano, "that we have a way and a way. I make it a point always to have a means to an end and a means in reserve." He was a man who was accustomed to pontificating and to being solemnly heard when he did. "These people the Cords threaten our interests. What is the best way to cope with them?"
"It's a shame we can't do it the old way," said Chandler.
"Put that from your mind," said Vulcano. "The question is How can we apply pressure to these people?"
"Jonas Cord has a daughter in a drying-out clinic in California," said Chandler. "She has given herself to a Hollywood hustler named Benjamin Parrish. The illegitimate son, Jonas Third, called Bat, sleeps with Glenda Grayson. Jonas Second himself keeps Angela Wyatt as a private and confidential secretary — and sleep-in lover. She has a federal criminal record." Chandler shrugged. "We may be able to find some advantage in one or more of those things."
"We can call down strikes on their heads," said Hoffa. "They can't build their Intercontinental Vegas without— "
"Let's hold that idea in abeyance. Jimmy," said Vulcano. "The other ideas Brother Morris has just mentioned may prove the better solution. Crude tactics are not acceptable when foxy tactics will do as well."
"Let's have a means and a means, Don Carlo," said Hoffa, picking up the expression the don himself had used. "One of the things Maurie's thought up and my idea in reserve."
"Don't call me Maurie," said Chandler coldly.
Hoffa grinned. "Don't worry about it, buddy," said Hoffa. "You're the best-connected guy I ever heard of, whatever we call you."
"Gentlemen," said Vulcano. "We are in agreement. Before we go back aboard that uncomfortable little airplane, I want to enjoy a nice steak, a nice bottle of wine, and one of those nice girls who are eyeing us and looking for an invitation to join us at this table."
2
"Goddammit, I said no. I told you I didn't want Jo-Ann on our payroll— "
"Until she dried out," Bat interrupted. "Well, she dried out. I made her commit herself to a drying-out clinic, and she stayed there for a month."
"What makes you think she won't go right back to her old habits?" Jonas asked.
"She might very well do just that if nobody gives her a chance," said Bat.
"You should have checked with me first."
"What good is it to be number-two man in the company if I can't hire a public relations girl?"
"It's not a business matter," said Jonas. "It's a personal matter, a family matter."
"Are you telling me to butt out of family matters?"
"She's my daughter!"
"She's my sister."
"Half sister."
Bat nodded. "So. Not good enough?"
Jonas got up and walked to the window. He had learned Morris Chandler's little trick of staring through the telescope while he took a moment to control his emotions and put his thoughts in order.
Not good enough? What kind of question was that? Unhappily, he knew what kind of question it was. He knew what his son implied. What was he supposed to do? Apologize? He changed the subject.
"I have some information for you," he said, turning away from the telescope and returning to the couch where he had been sitting. "Your television star has been shacking up in your beach house."
"How do you know?"
"It's my business to know. It's your business to know. She works for us. I've had men watching her. And you haven't? You don't know she shacks up in your house?"
"Well ... That's her business."
"No. It's not her business. It's your business. It's our business. She works for us. She's a property. Besides, I thought you had some kind of personal commitment from her."
Bat shook his head.
"Okay. I don't care who she lets hump her. Except— Guess who the guy is?"
"Who?"
"Jo-Ann's friend Ben Parrish."
"Parrish! For God's sake! That son of a bitch!"
"Right. The guy who's screwin' Glenda Grayson is also screwin' Jo-Ann and also screwin' you."
"That son of a bitch," Bat muttered.
"I wouldn't be surprised if there's not more to it," said Jonas. "Parrish has a reputation for hustling. What you want to bet he's trying to get her agency contract or something like that?"
"What can we do about it?" asked Bat.
"I've already done something about it," said Jonas.
3
The offices for Cord Productions were on the grounds of the Cord soundstages in West Hollywood. Jo-Ann had a small office with a window overlooking the parking lot. Arthur Mawson, producer for the Glenda Grayson Show, was accustomed to handling his own public relations, but he had his orders from the younger Mr. Cord and gave Jo-Ann as much responsibility as he could. What she did mostly was take telephone calls from reporters and answer fan letters.
Glenda Grayson's interviews and mail were handled by her agent Sam Stein and his PR staff. Guest stars also had their own staffs. Jo-Ann's responsibilities involved only inquiries and mail directed to the production company. It was not a demanding job, and she looked for ways to give it more stature, to give herself a more active role in the business.