Read Where There's Smoke Online
Authors: Mel McKinney
Where There's Smoke (6 page)
“Boss ⦠JOSEPH, I tell you. There wasn't a cigar in the place. Just wine. Lots of it. And we really took the place apart. If there had been so much as a cigarette, we would have found it. I helped Peter and one of the maids put the whole lot in there when I delivered yours. We stacked them on shelves, at least thirty or forty boxes of cigars, including the three boxes of Don Salazarios. We made a big production of putting the Salazarios right up front where he would see 'em.”
Joseph Bonafaccio Jr. regarded his trusted Dominick pensively, trying to sort out what this meant. Where else could they be? There was no way the president could have smoked them or given them away in four months.
Romelli walked over to the huge picture window and ran his fingers through the wavy, peppered mass that had spawned a second nickname, “Caesar.”
“It was an odd setup, Joseph,” he said, studying the early skaters below. “It was like no one cared. There was
this storm door, all freshly busted up. I mean, the Kennedys, right? They're not just going to leave a ramshackle door hanging on its hinges. The place is out of a picture book, everything spit and polish. Except the stupid storm door. Which, by the way, isn't there anymore. We took it with us. Both of them. They became firewood.”
this storm door, all freshly busted up. I mean, the Kennedys, right? They're not just going to leave a ramshackle door hanging on its hinges. The place is out of a picture book, everything spit and polish. Except the stupid storm door. Which, by the way, isn't there anymore. We took it with us. Both of them. They became firewood.”
Joseph raised his eyebrows, questioning.
“It was kind of a goof-up. Angelo, he tripped on one of the broken boards and crashed over into the doors. He hadn't put his gloves on yet, and he left prints all over the place. Rather than try to wipe them down, I figured it was safer to just take them. So we did.
“But that's not all that was weird. When we got to the place where the wine and cigars are kept, Angelo couldn't pick the lock.”
Romelli slammed a stubby fist into his other palm.
“Joseph, someone who knew his business had already picked that lock; I'd swear it! It's a screwy kind of lock. I've seen them before. Lots of times when they've been picked and then relocked, they jam. You can't unlock them, and you sure as hell can't pick them. Angelo tried every trick in the book, and he knows them all. We sawed it. Had no choice.”
Joseph Bonafaccio Jr. let this sink in as his mind expanded into the dark mystery of the night beyond. Then, in his father's low voice, he said, “Sit down, Fingers, let's add this up. See where we are.”
Dominick Romelli left the window and took a seat in front of Joseph's ornate Louis XIV desk. Chastened, he waited.
“Here's the way I see it,” Joseph began.
“Number one, there are millions stuffed in cigars out there somewhere.
Our family's
cigars.
Our family's
millions, stolen from us in Cuba by that snake, Victor Salazar.
Our family's
cigars.
Our family's
millions, stolen from us in Cuba by that snake, Victor Salazar.
“Number two, they know there's been a break-in. The Kennedys, the cops, probably by now the goddamned CIA. Do they know why? No. How could they? Unless ⦠shit. What if
he
, the president, lit up one of those diamond-loaded suckers? Or he gave one to some Arab or some other puffed-up potentate? Jesus!”
he
, the president, lit up one of those diamond-loaded suckers? Or he gave one to some Arab or some other puffed-up potentate? Jesus!”
Joseph caught his breath, then continued, putting those possibilities aside for the moment. If the diamonds had been discovered by Kennedy, the problem had no solution, at least none immediately apparent.
“Number threeâand this is the ball busterâsomeone beat us to them. Someone else knows and has our goddamned diamonds!”
His fist slammed down on the inlaid surface of the desk. A row of silver frames, housing photographs of the Don and Joseph Junior mugging with world leaders and celebrities, cascaded into each other, silver dominoes elegantly toppling. The last, a picture of a young Senator Kennedy and a bony Frank Sinatra, flanked by Joseph and his father, Noches Cubanas and the Havana skyline sparkling behind them, fell with a gentle plop to the thick carpet below. Romelli bent down and picked it up.
“Joseph, this isn't like you,” he said, starting to right the fallen photographs.
Joseph nodded. “You're right, Dominick. The Don
never got mad. He just got even. No matter how long it took. Only one man ever put one over on him and that was Salazar. He paid a hell of a price, didn't he?”
never got mad. He just got even. No matter how long it took. Only one man ever put one over on him and that was Salazar. He paid a hell of a price, didn't he?”
He tilted back, hands behind his head.
“The Don was right to send me out in the boat with you that morning. I learned more then than in seven years at Columbia. Business,
our
business, was tough sometimes. People didn't get away with cheating us. They stole from us, they lost, no matter who they were. Like Salazar. Hell, the Don loved the guy! We all did. It didn't matter. He cheated us; he had to pay.
our
business, was tough sometimes. People didn't get away with cheating us. They stole from us, they lost, no matter who they were. Like Salazar. Hell, the Don loved the guy! We all did. It didn't matter. He cheated us; he had to pay.
“I remember the look on your face when you shoved the poor bastard over. That was awful, with the guy still squirming and kicking. Jesus, life left him hard!
“And when those first sharks hit, the look on
his
face. Beat up as he was, I'll never forget that look.”
his
face. Beat up as he was, I'll never forget that look.”
Joseph stood, shaking off the memory of that long-ago morning on Havana Bay. He walked over to the humidor room, slid open the thick, glass door, and stepped into the redolence of Spanish cedar paneling and aged tobacco.
Standing with his hands folded in the small of his back, slowly moving along the rows and stacks of boxes, an antiquarian in search of a rare volume, he called over his shoulder to Romelli. “Dominick, what we do now is simple. We do what the Don would have done. Pick up the pieces. Put the puzzle together. Get what's ours.”
Joseph browsed the shelves of boxes, touching, opening. Finally he settled on a box and nodded in satisfaction.
“Victor Salazar's son, what was his name? Raul, wasn't it? Didn't he open up a place in Miami some time
after we kicked him out of Cuba? Same name as the old place. Seems to me I heard he had an excellent selection of Cuban cigars down there. We should pay him a visit and see if he knows anything about cigars with diamonds in 'em.”
after we kicked him out of Cuba? Same name as the old place. Seems to me I heard he had an excellent selection of Cuban cigars down there. We should pay him a visit and see if he knows anything about cigars with diamonds in 'em.”
Joseph stepped back and paused at a guillotine device mounted on an alabaster pedestal. He inserted the end of one of the cigars he had selected into the opening and gave a short flick of the handle alongside. He passed the cut cigar to Romelli.
“Here, a Saint Luis Rey Regios Robusto. Perfect before lunch.”
He repeated the operation on the other cigar, lit it, and started to slip on his topcoat.
“If it weren't for my date tomorrow night with that Rockette, I'd say we should fly to Miami in the morning.”
RAUL WATCHED FROM above as the congressman stepped from the cavernous rear of the Imperial into the muggy Miami evening. The owl-faced old man with him hovered at the edge of the seat, eyes darting, scanning the windows and rooftops of the buildings along the Avenida de Heros.
Wonderful,
thought Raul
. Last night I celebrated with comrades, proud and full of themselves. Tonight I meet with quivering pigeons. Look at the old man. He is terrified. I wonderâbecause he believes we shot Kennedy, does he think we are going to shoot him, too? Look at him! Using his son-in-law as a shield. Disgusting! But it is best he is frightened and unsure of himself. It helps our cause
.
thought Raul
. Last night I celebrated with comrades, proud and full of themselves. Tonight I meet with quivering pigeons. Look at the old man. He is terrified. I wonderâbecause he believes we shot Kennedy, does he think we are going to shoot him, too? Look at him! Using his son-in-law as a shield. Disgusting! But it is best he is frightened and unsure of himself. It helps our cause
.
Then, as the congressman and Gessleman disappeared below into the entrance to Noches Cubanas, Raul thought again of the three boxes of Don Salazarios. Spreading his most congenial smile, he went down to greet his guests.
“Señores, welcome,” Raul said, extending his hand toward the congressman. Paulo opened the doors for them to the private dining room. Raul's guests paused; then Gessleman nudged his son-in-law ahead, toward the room.
A faint, “Mr. Salazar,” escaped Wesley Cameron, who started to accept Raul's handshake. He abruptly retracted his arm as his father-in-law's look cleared the space it would have occupied.
Raul folded his arms but maintained his smile. All who entered Noches Cubanas were treated with respect and congeniality. These guests, here to be blackmailed, would be treated like royalty.
“Please, gentlemen. Be seated.” His arm swept toward the table set in the middle of the room. Cut-crystal wine glasses and water goblets reflected the rich hues of china plates bordered with gilt tobacco leaves. At each of the three place settings, a fan of five cigars spread tan-and-dark fingers from a round sterling match safe that housed a dozen thick, wooden matches.
“I have instructed our kitchen to prepare several of our finest dishes for you. As you see, a selection of beautiful cigars awaits your pleasure.”
Gessleman squinted to get a better look at the cigars. “All very impressive, Mr. Salazar. Very impressive. But under the circumstances, we are not staying for dinner. Now let's cut the generous Latin bullshit and get through this horrible business.”
Raul kept his smile, now fueled by the intensity of the battle over the Don Salazarios that had raged overnight between his sentimentality and his conscience. He knew
Gessleman would pay him the money. But that was no longer enough. His amigos were right. The Don Salazarios belonged to him. They were his birthright.
I will slice this ripe casaba
, he thought.
I will tease out its succulent fruitâin this case, money and my grandfather's cigars.
Gessleman would pay him the money. But that was no longer enough. His amigos were right. The Don Salazarios belonged to him. They were his birthright.
I will slice this ripe casaba
, he thought.
I will tease out its succulent fruitâin this case, money and my grandfather's cigars.
“As you wish, Señor. We should at least sit down, don't you think?” He led them to the table.
Seated, Raul leaned forward.
“Mr. Kennedy's cigars, pardon me,
your
cigars, are safely resting in Massachusetts, and they will be delivered to you there. I will arrange for their delivery just as soon as the matter of payment is concluded. As you know, there were some complications, and I must take care of certain expenses immediately. Money has a way of sealing lips that can otherwise go dangerously loose.”
your
cigars, are safely resting in Massachusetts, and they will be delivered to you there. I will arrange for their delivery just as soon as the matter of payment is concluded. As you know, there were some complications, and I must take care of certain expenses immediately. Money has a way of sealing lips that can otherwise go dangerously loose.”
Wesley Cameron, twitched nervously and began to speak. “WeâIâyou never told us that you ⦔ He stalled, his mouth working but the sentences lodged somewhere between his larynx and tongue.
Cornelius Gessleman leaned forward, glaring at his son-in-law. Then he faced Raul. “What the congressman is so eloquently trying to say is that he agreed to buy some cigars from you. That's all. There was no arrangement sanctioned by him concerning how you came by those cigars. Simple as that.” His eyes left Raul's and drifted to the cigars at his elbow.
“But, Señor Gessleman,” Raul began. “When Congressman Cameron agreed on your behalf to buy the
presidente's
cigars, he knew, and you knew, whose cigars they were, and that the
presidente
was not making a gift of them to you. In fact, that is precisely why you desired
them so. You thought the
presidente
had forced you into crime! Do you not remember saying exactly that as we smoked and talked together that night two months ago?”
presidente's
cigars, he knew, and you knew, whose cigars they were, and that the
presidente
was not making a gift of them to you. In fact, that is precisely why you desired
them so. You thought the
presidente
had forced you into crime! Do you not remember saying exactly that as we smoked and talked together that night two months ago?”
Though Raul had Gessleman's full attention, he noted the old man's fingers inching toward the cigars before him.
“I am sure,” Raul continued, looking at Cameron, “the congressman remembers how I explained to him that removing the cigars from the
presidente's
home would require a diversion, like the magician's hands. One fools while the other tools.”
presidente's
home would require a diversion, like the magician's hands. One fools while the other tools.”
Raul was pleased with himself at that one. It helped matters, he thought, if he kept his half of the discussion lighthearted, as if, to him, assassinating heads of state to steal their cigars was routine. It had been his earlier quip about the magician and the bunny that had blended so fortuitously with the evil in Dallas to set the stage for tonight's adventure. That his amigos had not yet found a satisfactory diversion when tragedy struck in Dallas was, for Raul, part of the morbid serendipity that had landed them here.
Gessleman, now rolling one of the cigars in front of him with a skeleton-like forefinger, looked up thoughtfully. Raul saw that Gessleman was toying with a Sancho Panza Dorados, an elegantly slender cigar distinguished by its gold foil wrapper.
“Señor Salazar,” Gessleman began.
Progress
, thought Raul.
He's being diplomatic
. Raul sensed also that the combative quality had faded from Gessleman's tone. Instinctively, Raul knew that Gessleman must be at his most dangerous when he appeared calm.
Progress
, thought Raul.
He's being diplomatic
. Raul sensed also that the combative quality had faded from Gessleman's tone. Instinctively, Raul knew that Gessleman must be at his most dangerous when he appeared calm.
“You paint a picture of complicity on the part of me
and my son-in-law in our president's death. Nothing could be further from the truth. You and I both know that. You have summoned us here because you want money. Money for silence, correct? Money in exchange for a promise, whatever
that's
worth, that this wholeâ” Gessleman paused, shooting another angry glare in the direction of the pale congressmanâ“that this whole fiasco goes quietly away somewhere, forever. The only question is how much? How rich do you and your friends think you can make yourselves because you have involved us in this criminal catastrophe? And how many hooks for how many years will be in Wesley's back as a member of the government? Isn't that about it?”
and my son-in-law in our president's death. Nothing could be further from the truth. You and I both know that. You have summoned us here because you want money. Money for silence, correct? Money in exchange for a promise, whatever
that's
worth, that this wholeâ” Gessleman paused, shooting another angry glare in the direction of the pale congressmanâ“that this whole fiasco goes quietly away somewhere, forever. The only question is how much? How rich do you and your friends think you can make yourselves because you have involved us in this criminal catastrophe? And how many hooks for how many years will be in Wesley's back as a member of the government? Isn't that about it?”
Raul settled back, doing his best to display a pensive, nonthreatening face. Then he broke into a smile, a benevolent smile born of showing generosity. It was time to play his hand. More than that, it was yet another
momento de verdad,
another pirouette and thrust with the
estoque
as he sought to bring this bull cleanly down.
momento de verdad,
another pirouette and thrust with the
estoque
as he sought to bring this bull cleanly down.
“Señor Gessleman, you and the congressman are as deeply involved in the events of this month as I and my amigos. But do I wish to become rich, rich like you? No. I have riches enough for any man. I am healthy. A beautiful woman loves me. We may marry and, God willing, have children. If that happens, I will be truly rich.”
Raul lifted one of the cigars from his own fanâa Ramon Allones Specially Selected Robustoâand neatly trimmed it with his grandfather's gold cutter. Rubbing the cutter for luck, Raul slipped it back into his vest pocket and lit the cigar. He gave the aroma-charged smoke a moment to rise and circulate, then continued.
“We made a bargain, your son-in-law and I. I have kept that bargain. I have secured your cigars for you, but as you can imagine, theâahâdiversion in Dallas has escalated their cost. But not, as you fear, by a fortune. No, only by, what is for you, a modest sum that will ensure the episode is closed forever.”
Raul let the moment linger, drawing on his cigar, watching Gessleman's eyes.
The crafty old fox
, he thought.
He tells me nothing. Well, I will know, soon enough.
The crafty old fox
, he thought.
He tells me nothing. Well, I will know, soon enough.
“And what might this âmodest escalation' be?” Gessleman asked finally.
Now
, thought Raul,
for Rosa, for us, for everything.
, thought Raul,
for Rosa, for us, for everything.
“Eighty thousand dollars more,” he replied with polite conviction. “A total of one hundred thousand dollars and history will never include any of us in what had to be done to get your cigars. And, of course, you get the cigars.”
As he watched Gessleman's eyes, he saw them briefly reflect surprise, then relief. No, thought Raul.
I should not have asked for more. This whole adventure had a noble purpose: to reunite with Rosa in Cuba and see that the needs of her mountain children are met.
That portion of the one hundred thousand dollars left after paying the amigos represented Gessleman's contribution to that worthy end. There was no place for greed's contamination.
I should not have asked for more. This whole adventure had a noble purpose: to reunite with Rosa in Cuba and see that the needs of her mountain children are met.
That portion of the one hundred thousand dollars left after paying the amigos represented Gessleman's contribution to that worthy end. There was no place for greed's contamination.
Gessleman remained silent, his face now stoic.
That's right
, thought Raul.
You cannot let yourself show how my modest proposal has stunned you. Only, you forget, my friend, I grew up in a casino. I have watched thousands of faces at the gaming tables. I have seen masters conceal their good fortune when the cards
came their way. Do you think you can bluff me? I do not think so. I will give you the time you need to play your hand because I know what you are holdingânothing, except my one hundred thousand dollars and Don Salazarios. That is all I want from you
.
, thought Raul.
You cannot let yourself show how my modest proposal has stunned you. Only, you forget, my friend, I grew up in a casino. I have watched thousands of faces at the gaming tables. I have seen masters conceal their good fortune when the cards
came their way. Do you think you can bluff me? I do not think so. I will give you the time you need to play your hand because I know what you are holdingânothing, except my one hundred thousand dollars and Don Salazarios. That is all I want from you
.
Finally Gessleman spoke, his voice cold and precise. “What guarantee do we have that this will be the end of it? None. We both know that. You expect me to hand over one hundred thousand dollars tonight, and I expect to hear from you again, the next time you and your pals need money.”
Raul watched Gessleman fondle the Sancho Panza. Maybe the evening was pregnant with more opportunity than he had dared hope. It was time to reach for the rest. He drew deeply on his cigar and exhaled in a long, resigned blow.
“Señor Gessleman, it comes down to trust, good will and trust. To show my good will and that you can trust my word, I will make you an offer.” Raul lowered his eyes to the table.
“I see that you know the Sancho Panza brand, one of my island's finest. I still have three unopened boxes of them. After they are gone, this country will not see them, for how long?
“As it turns out there were three boxes of a brand called Don Salazario among the Kennedy cigars, an obscure brand made by my grandfather. They have sentimental value for me. My amigos who liberated the Kennedy cigars saw these and brought them back when they returned from Massachusetts. They are rightfully yours. But I am willing to trade one of these last three
boxes of Sancho Panzas to you for the three boxes of Don Salazarios. You can take the box of Sancho Panzas with you tonight. Agreed?”
boxes of Sancho Panzas to you for the three boxes of Don Salazarios. You can take the box of Sancho Panzas with you tonight. Agreed?”
There. It was done. His conscience satisfied and the bait cast, all in a puff of smoke. Raul sat back, studying his quarry.
Gessleman blinked, then smiledâ
an iguana's smile
, thought Raul.
an iguana's smile
, thought Raul.
“No,” Gessleman said. “But here's what I
will
do. You want to show good will? Here's your chance. Three for three. Trade me the
three
boxes of Sancho Panzas for your grandfather's cigars.”
will
do. You want to show good will? Here's your chance. Three for three. Trade me the
three
boxes of Sancho Panzas for your grandfather's cigars.”
Now it was Raul's turn to conceal the dealer's favor. He willed his face to stone. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he said, “Done,” not believing the fresh breeze of luck that had just blown his way. “And the rest ⦠?” he ventured.
“Oh, hell. Of course,” said Gessleman. “At this point, what choice do I have? Wesley, get one hundred thousand dollars out of that briefcase you're carrying and give it to Señor Salazar.”
Gessleman removed a gleaming platinum device that resembled a pen from his breast pocket. He pierced the end of the now naked cigar.
“You know something, Señor Salazar?” he said quietly. “I believe we'll stay for dinner after all. It will give you time to get to know me a bit better. By the end of the evening, I believe you will appreciate that it would be
very
foolish of you to ask for any more money.” Gessleman's eyes narrowed. “Foolish
and
unhealthy,” he added.
very
foolish of you to ask for any more money.” Gessleman's eyes narrowed. “Foolish
and
unhealthy,” he added.
Then, looking at his son-in-law, he said, “Wesley, would you quit staring and give the man his money?” He
turned back to Raul and leaned close. “Another thing. You spoke of delivery. Under no circumstances are you or your
amigos
to come near my farm in Kentucky. I have a place on Cape Cod that should be convenient for you, since the cigars are still up there. I will give you instructions and will arrange to be there for their delivery. Understood?”
turned back to Raul and leaned close. “Another thing. You spoke of delivery. Under no circumstances are you or your
amigos
to come near my farm in Kentucky. I have a place on Cape Cod that should be convenient for you, since the cigars are still up there. I will give you instructions and will arrange to be there for their delivery. Understood?”
Raul smiled and nodded. “Perfectly, Señor Gessleman. Perfectly.”
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