“Bap ain’t here,” Momo said. “Bap’s inside.”
Frank knew they were talking about Frank Baptista, who’d been the San Diego underboss until he got hit with a five-year rap for trying to bribe a judge. Frank had never met Bap, but he’d sure heard about him. Bap had been a legendary button man since the thirties. There was no telling how many guys Bap’d put in the dirt.
“Jack would not have allowed this,” Momo was saying.
“Jack’s dead and Bap’s in the joint,” Panno said. “Things are different now.”
“Bap’ll be out soon,” Momo said.
“Not tonight he won’t be,” Chris Panno said.
“This isn’t right,” Momo said.
Then Frank saw Nick Locicero coming down the hall.
Shit, what to do?
He decided fast and walked into the men’s room. The guys looked at him, like, What the fuck?
“Uhh…,” Frank said. He jerked his head toward the hallway. “Locicero.”
The guys looked at him for a second, then got their faces on.
Locicero came in.
“What are we, broads?” he asked. “We all gotta go the little girls’ room the same time?”
Everyone laughed.
Locicero looked at Frank. “Or is this the littleboys’ room?”
“I’m just going,” Frank said.
“D’you come in to take a piss?” Momo asked Frank. “Take a piss.”
Frank had a hard time with it. He unzipped, stood at the urinal, but nothing came out. He pretended it did, though, shook his dick off, put it back in. He was relieved to see that the men were all carefully washing their hands and paying no attention to him.
“Nice party,” Locicero was saying.
“The boss seems to be having a good time,” Momo said.
Locicero looked at him, trying to see if he was just busting balls or if he was serious. Then he said, “Yeah, I think so.”
Frank just wanted to get out of there. He headed for the door.
“Frankie,” Momo said.
“Yeah?”
“Wash your hands!” Momo said. “What are you, raised by wolves?”
Frank blushed as the men laughed. He stepped in, washed his hands, and managed to get to the door, when Momo said, “Kid, nobody else comes in here, okay?”
Jesus, Frank thought as he stood on guard in the hallway. What’s going to happen in there? He half-expected to hear gunshots, but he only heard voices.
Nicky Locicero was saying, “Momo, we came down here to be nice.”
“What’s going on out there isnice?”
“You guys have been going your own way down here,” Locicero said, “for too long. It’s time you came back under control.”
“When Jack-”
“Jack is gone,” Locicero said. “The new guy out there wants you to understand that you are not your own family down here; you are just another L.A. crew, a hundred miles down the road, that’s all. He wants your respect.”
Chris Panno weighed in. “If hewants respect, Nick, he shouldshow respect. What’s going on out there is not right.”
“I don’t disagree,” Locicero said.
A guy came down the hall to use the men’s room.
“You can’t go in there,” Frank said, stepping in his way.
The guy was a civilian. He didn’t get it. “What do you mean?”
“It’s broken.”
“All of it?”
“Yeah, all of it. I’ll let you know, okay?”
The guy looked for a second like he might want to argue the point, but Frank was a big kid, with muscles showing beneath his jacket, so the guy turned around. Frank heard Locicero say, “Look, Momo, all respect, but your Mrs. has had a little too much to drink. Have your kid drive her home; then there’s no problem.”
“There’s aproblem, Nick,” said Momo, “when this guy who wants respect treats our wives like whores!”
“What do you want me to say, Momo? He’s the boss.”
“There are rules,” Momo said.
He came out of the men’s room, grabbed Frank by the elbow, and said, “Mrs. A. is going home. You drive her.”
Holy hell, Frank thought.
“Go tell the valet to get the car,” Momo said.
Frank had to go through the main room to get outside. He looked up at the table and saw DeSanto whispering into Mrs. A.’s ear again, except now she wasn’t laughing. And the boss’s hands weren’t on the table. Frank couldn’t see them under the long white tablecloth, but he could guess where they were.
They were downstairs.
Five minutes later, Momo was pulling Mrs. A. out of the club. Frank got out and held the door open for her.
“You’re such an asshole,” she said to Momo.
“Stupid twat, get in the car.”
He pushed her in. Frank closed the door.
“Take her home and stay with her till I get back,” Momo told him.
Frank just hoped he’d get homesoon. Marie didn’t say a word on the drive home, not a word. She lit a cigarette and sat there puffing on it so the car filled with smoke. When he got to Momo’s place, he jumped out and opened the car door for her and she walked pretty fast up to her own door and stood there impatiently while he fumbled with the key to the front door.
When he got it open, she said, “You don’t have to come in, Frankie.”
“Momo said I did.”
She looked at him funny. “Then I guess you’d better.”
Inside, she went straight to the bar and started making a Manhattan.
“Do you want one, Frankie?”
“I’m too young to drink.” It’d be two more years before he could get a legal drink.
She smiled. “I’ll bet you’re not too young forother things, are you?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. A.”
But of course he did, and it scared the hell out of him. He was in a jam here-if he got up and left, which was what he wanted to do, he’d be in big trouble. But if he stayed here and Mrs. A. kept making moves on him, he’d be in bigger trouble.
He was working through this when she said, “Momo can’t fuck me, you know.”
Frank didn’t know what to say. He’d never even heard a woman sayfuck, never mind what Mrs. A. was telling him.
“He can fuck every cheap whore in San Diego and Tijuana,” she continued, “but he can’t fuck his wife. What do you think of that?”
Justhearing this could get me killed-that’s what Frank thought of that. If Momo found out that I know this, he’d clip me so I couldn’t tell anyone else. Which Momo really doesn’t have to worry about, because I’m never going to say this even to myself. Doesn’t matter, though. If Momo knew thatI knew that he wasn’t taking care of business with his wife, he’d kill me just because he couldn’t look me in the eye.
“A woman has needs,” Marie was saying. “Do you know what I mean, Frankie?”
“I guess so.”
Patty didn’t seem to have them.
“You guess so.” Now she sounded angry.
Frank figured she couldn’t be too angry, though, because she started to slide her dress off her left shoulder.
“Mrs. A…”
“‘Mrs. A.,’” she mimicked. “I know you’ve been looking at my tits all night, Frankie. They’re nice, aren’t they? You should feel them.”
“I’m leaving, Mrs. A.”
“But Momo told you to stay.”
“I’m leaving anyway, Mrs. A.,” he said. Now he could see the top of her breast in the black brassiere. It was round and white and beautiful, but what he reached for was the doorknob, thinking, You screw a made man’s wife, what they do is they cut your balls off and make you eat them. That’sbefore they kill you.
Those were the rules.
“What’s the matter, Frankie?” she asked. “Are you a homo?”
“No.”
“You have to be,” Mrs. A. said. “I think you’re a homo.”
“I’m not.”
“Are you afraid, Frankie, is that it?” she asked. “He won’t be home for hours. You know how these things go. He’s probably with some whore right now.”
“I’m not scared.”
Her face got softer now. “Are you a virgin, Frankie? Is that it? Oh, baby, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll make you feel so good. I’ll show you everything. I’ll show you how to please me, don’t worry.”
“It’s not that. It’s-”
“You don’t think I’m pretty?” she asked, her voice getting an edge. “What, you think I’m too old for you?”