The Bootlegger’s Legacy (12 page)

The next day, Pat was occupied with various business tasks that required his personal attention. The first was a collection call to one of his older customers who hadn’t paid for his last delivery. Pat always hated this stuff. Everybody knew what was expected: you paid when the product was delivered. Pat wasn’t in the banking business, handing out credit. His old customer begged for some extra time because he was short on cash. Pat made it clear he didn’t care whether they were old friends or not—that wasn’t the way he did business. There would be no more deliveries until he paid, which of course would put him out of business. And Pat would sell the receivable to his business partners in Texas, whom this customer knew of, and thereafter
they
would handle collections. Suddenly his old friend found the cash. Their friendship was over, but business was business.

He couldn’t get Sally off his mind. Pat was still confused by Sally and had no real answers. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to see her. The afternoon dragged on, and then finally it was time. Pat picked Sally up at her apartment for their evening out, and as soon as he saw her he felt happy. She was ravishing. Sally was so striking—most everywhere she went she turned heads, both men’s and women’s. Pat often found himself just staring at her—she didn’t seem to mind.

They were headed to the Deep Deuce area. This was the predominantly black part of downtown Oklahoma City. There were lots of clubs and live music in this part of town, and it was an area where Pat had a lot of customers. He always felt welcome and enjoyed the party atmosphere of people having a good time. Sally was very excited about going into this somewhat forbidden zone to meet the Texas Italian, John Giovanni.

Pat had told her about some of the history of the neighborhood. That it had been a distinct section of town since the 1920s. It had become a regional center of jazz music, featuring some of the best big band music of the era, including the Oklahoma City Blue Devils. The name came from a gang of fence cutters infamous in the early American West. The Blue Devils had several prominent musicians, including Lester Young and William “Count” Basie.

The area was mostly black during the day, although at night the clubs attracted a mixed-race crowd. The music was some of the best live music most anywhere—but for damn sure the best in Oklahoma City.

Pat pulled up in front of Trevas Supper Club and handed his car off to the valet attendant. His entrance with Sally on his arm created quite a stir. Most people didn’t openly stare, but they watched surreptitiously all the same. The club owner, Willy Trevas, was there to greet Pat and Sally warmly. Willy owned the club, but what many people didn’t know was that he leased the building from Pat. This was one of several real estate investments Pat had made in his home town. Willy immediately showed them into a private room where Giovanni—and a couple of bodyguards—were waiting. To say that Sally made an impression on Giovanni would be a serious understatement. Pat wasn’t sure, but John might have been drooling.

Pat and Sally greeted Giovanni like old friends and settled in with drinks and menus. In the background, from the main room, they could hear the Billy Parker Band playing some restful jazz. The mood was full of promise and anxiety. The bodyguards remained standing in the background, never acknowledged by Pat, Sally, or Giovanni, but their presence was felt by everyone.

Their dinners were delicious. The Trevas Supper Club was famous for serving the best steaks in town. Oklahoma prime beef, direct from the local stockyards, cooked to perfection over a huge open pit with leaping flames. The club also featured the largest baked potatoes ever seen, topped with a full assortment of enhancements. Everyone commented on how good the food was and really seemed to enjoy their meal. After dinner, over drinks, Giovanni got to the point.

“Pat, I hope it is alright to discuss our business in front of Sally?”

“Sure, John. After all, Sally’s the brains of the outfit.”

Sally gave Pat a quick jab, a little harder than necessary.

Giovanni continued with a slight grin on his face, “I always suspected there was someone other than you, Pat, pulling the strings.”

This little exchange seemed to remove some of the tension, although no one thought they were really being friendly. The bodyguards didn’t smile.

“Pat, I’ll get to the point. I think it’s time for you to retire. And I want to help set you up for your retirement years. I’m prepared to offer you a very sweet deal for your Oklahoma and Texas business connections and contacts. How does that sound to you?”

Pat paused. He knew Giovanni wanted his business. He’d always suspected the thug would just kill him and take it—buying it seemed out of character. “Well, John, I appreciate the thought, but you know I’m not sure I’m ready to call it quits quite yet.” The previous level of tension returned. Not too many people said no to Giovanni.

Giovanni’s unhappiness seemed to actually darken his skin. This was a very unpleasant person.

“Let’s cut through the bullshit—you know and I know, I could just take the business and you would get nothing. Or, maybe you would get less than nothing.” Giovanni’s voice was rising along with a slight flush to his face. “So let’s not pretend there’s a decision to make here—you’ll sell me your contacts and operations or things will get real ugly for you.”

Pat had a quick decision to make. He could say yes and probably be dead within a month, or he could say no and still probably be dead within a month—maybe even the next hour. He wanted out of the business, but dealing with Giovanni was literally a dead end—nobody in their right mind would trust the man. He had to try to prevent Giovanni from taking any immediate action while he figured out what other options he might have—one hell of a mess.

“John, let me cut through the bullshit, as you put it. My business runs smoothly because of the connections I have and the things I do to make it work without a hitch. You can take over the business, shoot me, or whatever you and your goons do—but you wouldn’t have a business left. You’d have lost the wholesale business on what you sell to me—which I would think is quite profitable—and you’d have lost the opportunity to take over my business, because if the state thinks you’re moving in they’ll push to legalize booze. They’d rather deal with the Bible-thumpers and sin than deal with the likes of you.”

Giovanni looked more than pissed, and Pat suddenly wondered if he’d gone too far. He was a stupid old bootlegger who had just pissed off a serious hoodlum with two pet thugs—he probably deserved to be shot. But Sally sure the hell didn’t. What was he thinking?

Giovanni gradually began to smile. “Pat, I like a man who has the balls to tell me to my face to go piss up a rope, but no matter what you may think, we’re not negotiating. I’ll take over your business one way or another. I’ll give you a little time to think about this—but know for damn sure this is not over.” The smile was gone. Giovanni got up, picked up Sally’s hand and kissed it, gave Pat a look that could have killed, and walked out with bodyguards trailing.

“My god—what the hell just happened?” Sally seemed more than a little upset.

Pat didn’t have a good answer. But there was no question things were going to change, whether he wanted them to or not. He tried to reassure Sally that this was just a little business misunderstanding and that everything would work out. She gave him one of her do-you-think-I’m-an-idiot looks. She wasn’t an idiot, and he had no idea what was going to happen.

Pat and Sally went to the bar area and had some more drinks. The music softened out the mood, and soon they were dancing to the great music of the Parker band. They tried to forget Giovanni’s implied threat, but it hung over their heads.

Pat didn’t hear anything from Giovanni after their confrontation. His shipments were still moving. It was business as usual, but obviously what happened that night in Trevas Supper Club wasn’t over. Giovanni was a real threat—it was obvious to Pat that the man had no morals and wouldn’t hesitate to harm whoever he had to in order to get his way. He was increasingly alert and concerned that Giovanni’s goons would show up and start blasting.

Months passed. Pat still saw Sally, though a little less frequently. He was concerned that something would happen to her if she were with him at the wrong time. The business continued to run smoothly, keeping him in high demand. Emerson had proven to be very capable of handling the day-to-day operations from Las Cruces. Pat was still dealing with local officials and making contributions to the local economy. Everything seemed normal, but it wasn’t—tension was always in the air. They were waiting on something, they just didn’t know what it was.

Pat had given a lot of thought to what he should do. He’d decided that he wanted out—that was for sure. But he didn’t want to get out by being killed. He didn’t want to get out and still have to deal with Giovanni or corrupt government officials. If he was out, he was out. He still didn’t know how to do that. Procrastination set in. He didn’t have answers, so he just waited.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Bugs knew Pat was seeing other women. She didn’t know if it was one or many, but she knew it was happening. She could feel it, smell it, and she hated this side of Pat. She knew, though, that if she confronted Pat their marriage would be over.

Bugs had devoted most of her married life to pleasing her husband. Even as a girl, her only goal in life had been to be a wife. Her devotion to her husband was based on her love for Pat and her religious convictions. Obeying and pleasing your husband was in Bugs’ nature. There had been times when she did this with an abundance of joy. Lately, though, it had felt more like a difficult chore. How do you continue to love a man who seems to want to be with other women rather than you?

Pat had provided a wonderful home and given Bugs the joy of her life, her son. Her child had become her focus. She couldn’t control Pat, but she could make sure that their son wasn’t going to be like his father. Bugs, of course, recognized the conflict she was creating, and because of that she made an effort to praise Pat to Mike, but all the while she was bringing up their son to be a devoted husband to whomever he married. She taught him her Christian values and made sure he understood the consequences of failing to meet these standards.

Bugs didn’t know the details about what Pat did for a living, other than that he was in insurance, but she didn’t believe for a minute that he wasn’t doing other things. She had heard the whispers about him being a bootlegger. She just chose not to confront him about it—if he didn’t want to tell her then she didn’t want to know. Over the years she had never been sure how much of their income had come from insurance or booze. This troubled her, but at some level it was Pat’s concern how he supported his family and she wouldn’t judge him.

The First Baptist Church had become a source of solace for Bugs. It was a big, impressive church not far from her house. She felt a sense of pride when she saw the church of which she was a member. Of course, Pat had nothing to do with it.

As Mike grew and spent more time in school activities, Bugs had increased her volunteer work at the church. It was where she felt the most comfortable. Much of that was because of the minster, Reverend Todd Jenkins. Bugs and Todd had spent hours and hours together working on church projects. As they had become closer, Bugs had shared her concerns about Pat’s activities with women and his bootlegging business. Todd was very sympathetic to Bugs’ difficulties. He had given her special one-on-one counseling sessions to help her understand how this could be part of God’s plan.

After a while, their relationship began taking on a different tone. They would make excuses to be together. Todd wasn’t married, but he had a busy life dealing with the church and its congregation. Even so, he always found a reason to see Bugs. She began spending more and more time at the church. She and Mike often attended evening events, where Bugs acted as the hostess for the event, supporting Todd.

“Bugs, could I see you in my office?”

“Sure Todd.” Todd’s tone alerted her that something wasn’t right. They would often meet in his office to discuss various church matters, but today he made it sound different.

They entered the office and Todd shut the door. There was a small couch on one side of the room and Todd went and sat down.

Bugs wasn’t sure where he expected her to sit and started toward one of the desk chairs.

“No, sit here with me. I need to talk to you about something.”

Bugs changed direction and sat at the opposite end of the couch. She was becoming nervous, sensing that something was troubling Todd.

“Bugs, you know I’m a man of God—but you must know that I’m also a human being, with all of the faults and desires of any other human.”

Bugs was cringing on the inside. She suddenly knew where this was heading.

“For months we’ve been spending more and more time together. I know you love this church as much as I do—I can see it in the work you do here and in your interactions with the congregation. Bugs, you’ve become more important to me than anything else. I can’t stop thinking about you and your miserable marriage. I love you, Bugs. I know I shouldn’t be saying any of this, but I can’t help it—I want to be with you.”