CHAPTER TEN

 

 

Frankie, sitting in his favorite leather chair, was reading the paper and just starting his day. His wife of 45 years still looked like the girl he had fallen for back in Sicily, though with grey hair. She sat sipping a cup of tea. Most of the day, the house would be filled with people coming and going, but from seven to nine it was quiet.

The boss of bosses had rules and this one was sacred. Frankie had spent a lifetime building the trust and respect needed to run the five families. Though he could be ruthless, he was most known for his mind. He knew all the angles. In the last 30 years since he became the top man, there had been a few challenges. The brash young men who thought bullets could solve any problem, learned, seconds before their own demise, brains beat brawn.

Frankie was also a firm believer in the theory of natural selection. There would always be rivalries between families; this couldn't be helped. Frankie let them fight among themselves. He considered himself the U.N. He only settled disputes when they threatened world peace. If a man couldn't protect his family, he got what he deserved. It was the brash exuberance Tommy 'The Knife' had displayed, which caught Frankie's eye. He took him under his wing, and, when the time was right, he gave him Manhattan. This was the most cherished borough, and the other families were understandably jealous.

Amata set down her tea and said, "It seems Tommy is showing up in the news almost daily."

Frankie folded his paper, a troubled look on his face. "He is. The volume is getting louder than I would like."

Frankie, though at times he'd had a few broads on the side, loved and respected his wife. Over the last 20 years, he had been faithful, and they had grown very close. He trusted her and often used their golden two hours per day to discuss business. This was not how it was typically done; most of the wives were kept out of the business talk. There were very few people who knew how important Amata was to Frankie, or how much he valued her opinion.

"The sharks will start to circle, if he doesn't get things under control," Amata said, picking up a section of newspaper.

"It is the way of the jungle. You are right, though. It has been a long time coming; this will be a test for Tommy. If he survives, he will be formidable. He might even come after this chair."

Shaking the paper open, "Oh, I don't know if he would go that far. He knows you made him."

"I said he might try. I didn't say he would succeed. I have aces up my sleeve he has never even heard of."

"I know you do, dear. I like to think I am one of those aces."

Frankie stood up and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. "You are my best ace."

The grandfather clock in the hall began to chime. The doors flew open, and a small pack of grandchildren stormed the castle of solitude. Frankie played with the kids until his first lieutenant Nicilo said he had a visitor.

Nicilo Bernini, who could trace his lineage back to Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini, had a strong jaw and was tall and lean. He spoke Italian perfectly, knew history, and respected the old ways. In 1946, Antonio Gecco, an eager up and comer, tried to make his bones by taking out Frankie at his favorite restaurant. Nicilo took two bullets, killed all three gunmen, and helped the restaurant owner's wife up off the floor. He never uttered a word of complaint about being shot. Frankie had pulled himself up off the floor and looked around at his men lying dead. He wouldn't have noticed Nicilo standing quietly in the corner bleeding had it not been for the owner's wife giving a little yelp. Nicilo had been by Frankie's side ever since. Not only was Nicilo respected by Frankie, but he was genuinely liked and respected by all the families. He had earned his place.

Other than Amata, Nicilo was the only one who could tell Frankie he was wrong and have Frankie listen. Of course, Nicilo never did it in front of others.

"Who do we have today?"

"It is Mr. Carlson from the hardware store. It seems he has been getting some grief from some punks in the neighborhood."

Frankie and Nicilo entered the study. Mr. Carlson stood behind the two chairs in front of the desk. Frankie shook his hand, "Mr. Carlson, it is good to see you, my friend. I understand there have been some problems."

"Yes, Godfather," he said, lowering his eyes.

"We will let them know to respect the valued members of the community such as yourself and your lovely wife. How is Esther doing?"

"She is fine, thank you for asking. Thank you for helping me."

Frankie whispered something in Nicilo's ear. Mr. Carlson left, and the rest of the day was spent solving other people's problems.