58

Louis flew out to New York one week ahead, to Seattle and then to Yakima. Before he went he was summoned to Brooklyn and received by the don himself, who told him how much he appreciated what he would be doing and promised him that, when Willie and Joey had been straightened out, he was going to make Louis assistant casino manager at the big Prizzi hotel in Vegas. Louis was knocked out by the don. The don had been a legend to him all his life and now there he was, seeing everything was done right.

Louis checked into a hotel in Yakima, took off his shoes because his feet were killing him, and called the number of one of the real estate agents he had looked up in New York. He made an appointment for the agent to pick him up at nine o’clock the next morning to show him three-bedroom houses on the outskirts of town. Then, to relax a little, he called a woman he knew in Vegas and talked dirty on the telephone.

The next morning, after a solid breakfast, he met the real estate man in the lobby and began the circuit to check out houses. He decided the fourth house they saw was right for him. It was a little inconvenient for town, maybe even a little isolated, but it had an indefinable charm, Louis said. “Indefinable charm?” the real estate man repeated. “I’ve got to remember that.”

They went back to the agent’s office where Louis signed a three-year lease in the name of Arthur Ventura and gave the man a check for three months’ rent. He asked the agent if the town had a furniture dealer, and if there was an interior decorator. The agent said that, as a matter of fact, a new outfit which sold furniture and did decorating had just opened a couple of months ago. He didn’t know anything about their work, but the name was Hobart Thurman, who was a fellow member of the Optimists, and the company name was Quality Custom Furniture and Decor. He gave Louis the telephone number.

“Maybe you could call them for me,” Louis said.

“Sure thing.” The agent dialed the number.

“Bart Thurman, please,” he said. Louis blinked. Bart? he thought. Could it be Willie?

“Bart, this is Ev Wisler. At Wisler Realty? Sure. You bet. Bart, I’ve got a potential customer here for you, sitting right in front of me, just took a three-year lease on an unfurnished house off the Selah road, and he’d like to come over and talk to you about fixing it up. Sure thing. His name is Mr. Arthur Ventura. I’ll send him right over.”

Louis didn’t see Joe Labriola on the first visit. Willie took him around the showroom and sat him down in front of some big furniture catalog.

“What kind of furniture was you looking for, Mr. Ventura?” Willie said.

“I’m not sure. I am thinking that I might look for an interior decorator in Seattle and have him look the place over and tell me.”

“Hey—you don’t needa go to Seattle for that,” Willie said. “We got a staff decorator right here in the premises. Absolutely top talent. He’s New York–trained. I mean, really up there with the top talent.” He drew a line across his forehead.

“Well—”

“Listen. You, me, and the decorator will go out to your place, he’ll look it over, then in two days he’ll come up with a list of ideas and some sketches so you’ll see how good he is and you can save yourself maybe three months moving into your place.”

“That’s fine.”

“I can tell you he is an absolutely terrific decorator.”

“My wife and kids are in Memphis—I just got transferred—and the sooner I can get them out here the better.”

“Yeah? What line are you in?”

“It’s strictly confidential, but my company is going to open a factory here. We make bed linen—sheets and spreads and pillowcases. We can’t get started till I get settled.”

“A lotta your people will be renting here?”

“Oh, yes. At least the four on the executive staff.”

“Are we gonna do a job on your house!”

“Great.”

“We can go out there right now if you want,” Willie said.

“Tomorrow morning would be better.” They shook hands and Louis went back to the hotel.

Willie got Joey on the phone, told him the big chance had come—that they had a big, new rush job. Except for selling some Barca Lounger chairs, painting some walls and a dining room suite, Louis was the only decorating action Joey had seen since they opened.

Joey came on very restrained, but he couldn’t hold himself down. He wore a trench coat draped over his shoulders and over a white silk Hamlet blouse. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, but he looked as if he should. His voice had changed as though the Witness Protection Program had also given him a whole new set of vocal chords, Louis told Charley on the phone from a telephone booth two towns away that night, because he couldn’t have sounded like that when he was working in Brooklyn.

They went out and looked at the house. Joey dictated pages of notes to Willie. They went back to town, and Willie told Louis that he’d be calling him as soon as they had everything together. Louis told them he was dying to see what they’d come up with, but the final presentation would have to be made to his boss who would be flying in from Milwaukee.