The Venetian and the Rum Runner - L.A. Witt Page 0,135

had done well. They’d brought in an impressive cache of liquor last night, and four of the men were on their way out to Long Island to retrieve the rest from where it had been stashed. And of course that was to say nothing of the liquor Carmine’s men had retrieved that the crew had stashed before their encounter with the il Sacchis. The crew of rum runners had been paid handsomely yesterday, and Carmine would no doubt be giving Danny another bundle of cash tomorrow.

Around noon, the telephone on Carmine’s desk rang again, but it wasn’t one of the warehouses calling to tell him another shipment had been delivered or one of his men letting him know some pharmacies had been restocked.

It was Maurizio. “Joe Masseria and his boys are coming to look at the warehouses. How soon can you be here?”

Of course the answer to that was always “I’m on my way, boss,” followed by Carmine hurrying out of his office with Sal on his heels, getting into the back of the car, and telling Fedele to drive.

When Carmine arrived at the gate outside the four warehouses he controlled, Maurizio was already there, smoking a cigar beside his car. Carmine and Sal got out. Sal hung back a respectful distance, and Carmine approached his boss. “So, they’re interested in the alliance?”

The boss nodded. “They are.”

“And you’re sure about this? You’re sure you want to give up control?”

“I don’t want to give up control.” Maurizio gave him a tired look as he took a puff off his cigar. “But I’d rather have these men as my allies than let them crush me as my enemies.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “We’re a small operation compared to them. If we weren’t, they’d have tried to squeeze us out by now. Getting in good with them will mean less bloodshed when they decide they want our territory and our market.”

Carmine swallowed. The capo was anything but a defeatist, but he was a savvy leader who always seemed to understand and accept harsh truths that other men in this business resisted. And he was right—there were a handful of families gaining power in the city, and they either crushed or absorbed their competition. “So, the Morellos, then? Not Cola Schiro?”

Maurizio nodded. “I don’t have a thing against Schiro, but I can’t afford to make an enemy out of Masseria.” He grimaced. “Especially not when he’s got Giuseppe Morello as his consigliere. I remember Morello from his days as a capo, and he was never an adversary to be underestimated.” He exhaled. “Any capo who has him as an advisor certainly isn’t either.”

Carmine nodded. “I’ve heard the stories.” He gestured over his shoulder at the nearest warehouse. “Let me have a look around, make sure nothing’s out of place, and have the boys bring out some merchandise for the men to see.”

Maurizio nodded and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Carmine had time to give his warehouse a quick look before the cars began arriving outside. As sure as he could be that everything was as it should be—especially since Danny had helped him resolve the rampant theft problem—he went outside to join Maurizio and meet with the men from the Morello gang.

Carmine didn’t recognize a lot of their faces, though Giuseppe Morello was easy enough to pick out because of his deformed right arm curled against his chest and held in place by a cord sling. Carmine supposed he’d have recognized him quickly no matter what—though he walked behind the boss, he carried himself as only a man who’d ever been a boss could do. Bosses had a look about them, a way of walking into a room and commanding respect and obedience without saying a word, and Morello was no exception.

Ahead of Morello was the man in charge—Joe Masseria. Joe the Boss, they called him. Carmine knew Masseria by reputation—everyone did—but this was the first time he’d seen the man in person. He was broad and stout with a round face, and his dark eyes were intense and unwavering. Not a man Carmine would call attractive by any means, but one who could’ve gotten his attention on a street corner or in a bathhouse with nothing more than a prolonged look and his commanding presence.

Maurizio made introductions. The entourage consisted mostly of security and a couple of underbosses Carmine had never heard of, and Masseria insisted everyone call him Joe.

When Joe was introduced to Carmine, he looked him right in the eye as