“You guys want something to eat? Drink?” Lennie offered them a menu. “Everything is on the house.”
“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna have,” Nico said, waving away the menu. “Make us a little of this and a little of that, maybe some antipasti, some mussels with gorgonzola, a little strozzapreti with wild boar sauce and rigatoni with spicy sausage and peppers, and maybe some tiger prawns with a little cream and basil, and then we’ll have cannoli. Lots of cannoli. How does that sound?”
“Very good, Mr. Toscani.”
He enjoyed his meal, smiled as Luca and Frankie ribbed Big Joe about his punctuality, but his mind was on the saucy little temptress he’d caught in his casino. He’d directed Vito to send a notice terminating the contract, but when he received a bill with the words “As promised” scrawled across the top, he couldn’t help but laugh. No one else would have dared send him a bill after what had happened at the casino. That she had, made him want her even more. He had met few women in his life who would stand up to him, fewer still who would defy him. And none he wanted to see again.
After the dishes were cleared, he waved Lennie over and thanked him for the meal. Business was never conducted until after the food was done, and that was Lennie’s sign to explain his problem.
“I got thieves on my staff, taking from the cash register, hauling away food and booze,” Lennie said, wringing his hands. “And I got problems with drug dealers loading my customers up with coke. The dealers are attracting some rough characters. They cause fights in the bar, and I can’t call the police because if they find out about the dealers then I’ll lose my liquor license and my craps tables. My friend down the street, he says he pays you every week and you help him out with security issues. I was just wondering if I could get in on that, too.”
Nico bit back a laugh. When he’d cleaned up Lennie’s friend’s restaurant, he’d sent the thieves and druggies down here with the sole purpose of getting Lennie to call and ask for the same protection the Toscanis offered his friend. The ultimate goal was to bust them out, a classic scam in which the mob offered to clean the place up for a fixed weekly fee, and then over time offered to drop the fee for a piece of the action. As the mob worked its way into the business, they would section off tables for their permanent use, order excess supplies on credit to sell on the black market, and launder money through creative bookkeeping. When the owner’s credit and reputation were shot, the building would be burned down for the insurance money.
Nico didn’t bust out innocent civilians, and now that he was here, he didn’t want to bust Lennie out either. Burning down the restaurant would be a fucking tragedy. The memorabilia Lennie had collected was irreplaceable.
“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do.” Nico outlined a plan in which Big Joe would come by every day for a week or two to weed out the crooks and clean the place up. Nico would ensure Lennie was never bothered again, and in return Lennie would give him twenty percent of the business and the best table in the house whenever Nico stopped by for a meal.
Frankie, Luca, and Big Joe stared at him like he’d grown another head. This discussion usually happened months after the first visit when the owner was dependent on the mob for protection and had no way out. But Nico didn’t intend to play the game to the inevitable conclusion. He wanted a piece of the Il Tavolino, but he wanted Lennie to run it.
“Mr. Toscani. Please.” Lennie held out his hands. “Twenty percent is too high. I’m up to my ears in debt. How about I pay you something every week and you come by whenever you want for a meal on the house?”
With a sigh, Nico stood. “You come to me for help. But when I offer my protection, you negotiate?” Nico held up a box of matches he’d swiped on the way in. “Does that sound respectful to you? I come out of my way to see you, and you insult me? Is that how you treat a business partner? Your customers? I don’t think this business is worth saving. How about I burn the fucking place down right now?” He lit a match and threw it on the white cotton tablecloth. Big Joe, Luca, and Frankie jumped up as the tablecloth burst into flames.
“No. No. Please don’t burn it down.” Lennie begged, dropping to his knees as a waiter rushed over with a fire extinguisher. “I’m sorry, Mr. Toscani. Please. It was a very generous offer. I wasn’t thinking.”