The Frenchman's Revenge (2 page)

BOOK: The Frenchman's Revenge
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“As for the goddamn dogs
,
there
’s
lots of meat left on them bones for the mutts to chomp on.”

He
looked
over
at
the young girls huddled
against the wall
. The light from the gas lamps lit their pale strained faces and frightened eyes. They wore tight gaudy
dresses
and garish makeup that made them look even younger
than they were
, l
ike little girls playing dress up. It was difficult to tell how old the girls were
,
but even the oldest ones couldn’t have been over fifteen.

Tony glared at them
.
“Y
ou, bitch
es
. P
ick up them bones and take

em outside to the dogs.

Several of the girls scrambled forward to grab the bones, their eyes
glued
to
the floor.
They darted
down
to pick up the bones and then jumped back
,
staying as far away f
rom Tony
as possible.

“You,
you too, bitch!”
Tony said to the older girl leaning against the wall, her
beautiful Chinese face t
ight with emotion
, distain in her
dark eyes
as she glared at the
enormous
man.

Seeing the
hostile
look on her face, Tony
shifted
ominously
toward her.
Shaking his head in recognition
,
h
e
growled, “Oh yeah, you’re the haughty little cunt Diego and the boys
have been chasing across the country
.
Did you think you could get away from us, b
itch?
I
don’t
suppose you s
peak English? Christ, don’t any of you ignorant sluts speak
anything
besides
that fuckin

sing song
Chink
gibberish?”

Glowering at her
,
h
e pointed to the last bone on the floor at his feet. “Pick it up, cunt.”

The girl stared at him
,
then lifted her chin defiantly
. She slowly
reached down to pick up the bone.

“Not with your hands, she-bitch
,” he growled. “
Get down on your hands and knees like the dog you are and pick it up with your teeth.”

When she stood still glaring at him, Tony
growled, a low animal sound.
W
ith
the back of one
huge hand
,
he
slammed
her across the face, knocking her to the
floor. T
he other girls
shrieked and
jumped back
,
clutching each other
in fear.
The girl lay still for a minute
,
her
slender
body shaking
. She
scrambled back
to avoid
Tony’s
boot
as he reached out to kick her.
S
he
pushed u
p to her hands and knees
,
took the bone in her teeth
,
and backed away from him
. Her
soft cheek
bore a bright red mark
from his hard slap
. A
ngry tears sw
am
in her dark eyes.

“That’s right.
Crawl back in the corner, bitch, and gnaw on your bone like the mangy dog you are
,
” Tony snarled.

He started
to
heave himself out of his chair and
go after her, but Louie
,
who was sitting next to him
,
grabbed his arm.

“Damn, Tony.
That’s merchandise you’re markin’ up.
Hell, that pretty little gal can do eight or ten men a night.
Let them bruise her if they want to
, t
hey’re payin

for it. B
ut we should at least try to keep
them
looking good as long as we can.
S
hit,
I thought we were going to play poker tonight
,
now that you’re finally done feeding your face.
I plan
to take your money
,
b
ig
g
uy.

Angry red splotches
blazed
on
Tony’s
bloated
face and he stared menacingly at the defiant
young girl
. S
hrugging off Louie’s restraining arm
, he muttered
under his breath about ignorant
C
hink cunts
,
then
yelled to
the dark haired man
behind the bar
.

“Goddamnit
,
Dante,
bring
us
that
fuckin

whisk
e
y you

r
e
hoarding
over
t
here
.
We got a night of heavy drinking ahead of us.”

Over the next hour
,
the eight men around the table settled in
with
their cards
, whiskey
,
and cigars
.
Music
from the brothel out front
drifted
to the back room
. T
he sound
s
of men’
s laughter,
drunken shouts
,
and the high pitched voice
s
of the whores punctuated the night.
Madam
e
Torrento’s was the most elegant brothel in San Francisco and the
flagship
of the
Sicilian mob’s
emerging
presence
in the
c
ity. Like the rest of the brothel, the private room reserved for the mob leaders
was
lavish
. T
he massive intricately carved mahogany bar was
the centerpie
ce of the darkly
opulent
room.
Heavy damask red
and gold
wall coverings
de
fined
by mahogany wainscoting complimented the
plush
carpet and
velvet covered
arm chairs. Oil paintings of women in various stages of nakedness decorated the walls and a
fire burned low in the stone fireplace.
The flickering gas lamps strategically placed throughout lent a pleasant glow to the room
.

“Nights like
these make me almost glad we’re out here,”
Arturo
mused as he threw in a crap hand with a disgusted grunt
, tossing back
a big swig of liquid comfort. “How about you, Tony
? You
starting to think you can live in the
Wild
West
or are you still pining to get back to New York?”


Christ, if there were a few more of us here and I didn’t have to spend every goddamn minute looking over my shoulder, I could like it a lot.
I just wish we weren’t the fuckin

pioneers sent to keep the Irish from setting up here
,
” Tony said
,
blowing a cloud of cigar smoke up in the air.

“I dunno, Tony, I think we’re making real progress.
Hell, we got as many cops and pols in our pocket as the Micks do.
We
definitely
got more brothels
. Hell,
our gambling halls are overrun with easy marks every night,” Louie said as he pushed a pile of
Madame Torrent
o
’s custom
chips to the center
of the table
and nodded to Carlo. “Show me what you got, asshole.
There’s no way you can beat my queens.”

Carlo shook his head in disgust
,
threw down his cards
and
with a
grumble
push
ed
his chips over to Louie.


Not so fast, Louie
,
my boy
, u
nless the fuckin

poker gods decreed that queens beat kings,” Tony said with a gleeful
snort
t
ossing
down
his three kings and dragging the pot to his burgeoning pile
of chips.

“Fuck, Tony, do you ever lose?” Louie asked
,
shaking his head
in disgust
.

“Nope,” Tony chortled, “Losing just
ain’t
in my blood.”

Taking a
puff
off his cigar and a deep swallow of whi
skey, Louie squinted up at Tony
, a
sly
grin tugging at his mouth
.

“Unless
t
he Frenchman’s involved, right, Tony?”

”Fuck you, asshole,” Tony shouted
,
slamming his glass down on the table
,
his face purple with rage
.
“You think I don’t know we got a problem?
The biggest fucking problem
I’ve eve
r
had
is that
goddamn
Chink
. I
ain’t ashamed to admit it
.

He shook his head
and
added angrily
, “
The
Eastern big boys have no idea who this guy is. Christ
,
I know they wanted us out here to beat the goddamn Irish to the punch. But none of them –
not the Micks
,
not us
, knew
about
t
he Frenchman. Like everybody else
,
A
ldo
and
the rest of the
family
think
s
all th
at’s
out here
are
some
has been
outlaw gangs and
a bunch of impotent Chinks
.
Damn
,
I never even heard o
f the Sing Leon til I got here. N
ow I learn they run the place. T
he
Tongs in New York
are
in Chinatown
, that’s it!
W
h
o
would
have thought
they’d
still be
big
player
s
out here?”


Yeah, Tony, but
t
he Frenchman
is more than
the head of the Sing Leon.
I can tell you, the rest
of the Tongs defer to him
. N
ot a hell of a lot happens
in
Chin
k
circles
without his say so.

Louie studied his cards, then added. “
And b
eing half French doesn’t hurt
. M
akes him more accepted by the whites
. N
either does
the fact he has more money than God. Christ, h
e’s into more shit than we are.
Hell
,
he even does
some
legit business.
We need to make the
big boys
understand that this guy is
a hell of a lot
more than
a gang
leader
,” Louie said with a grimace
.

BOOK: The Frenchman's Revenge
9.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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