Counting to Infinity Page 22

  “I understand.”

  “Between you and me, I never cared much for my cousin Max,” said LoBianco before ending the call.

  Darlene and Eddie arrived at Joey Russo’s hotel room at half past five, carrying the surveillance equipment up from Eddie’s car. Russo had taken two adjoining rooms at the Allegro, 618 and 620. The rooms were connected by a doorway, with a door on each side that locked from inside each room.

  When Joey let them in, the doors between the two rooms were opened.

  “We’ll set up the equipment in 620,” Joey said. “I want to be able to hear a pin drop in here.”

  “No problem,” said Eddie, “this equipment will pick up a whisper.”

  “How about video?” asked Joey.

  “If I set up both cameras,” said Eddie, “we should be able to cover this entire room. I brought a small monitor; we can use the television in the other room to monitor the second camera.”

  “Great, let’s get it set up, Eddie,” said Russo. “When do you need to leave for the airport, Darlene?”

  “Jake’s flight arrives in an hour; I should probably get going soon.”

  Eddie handed Darlene his car keys, then began to help Joey Russo carry equipment into the next room.

  Darlene watched the two men work for a while and then she left for the airport.

  Jack LoBianco stopped in to see his aunt, to let her know that he had heard from Joseph Vongoli and to make the arrangements for picking her up the following day.

  “Jack?” Anna Lansdale asked. “Are you prepared to deal with this man, Vongoli, if necessary? We cannot allow him to continue making false accusations against the family.”

  “He will be dealt with, and swiftly,” said LoBianco. “You have my word.”

  “Good.”

  “Can I ask you a question, Aunt Anna?”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you ever known Max to have a gambling problem?”

  “Oh, no, not Max,” said the woman. “Your uncle Simon liked to play the horses, and Randolph enjoyed card games, but not Max. Every summer we visit Simon’s brother in Lake Tahoe, and Max won’t even touch a slot machine.”

  “Even in recent years?”

  “We were out there in August; Max spent all of his time on the lake. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s nothing,” said LoBianco. “Aunt Anna, with all respect, what will we do if there is any truth to Vongoli’s allegations?”

  “Max is my son, Jack, my youngest child,” said Anna Lansdale. “I could not bear to outlive him. I’ve outlived one of my children already and it is a terrible thing. I can’t bring myself to believe Vongoli, as convinced as he seems to be. Remember, he lost a sister. Such a loss may cloud his judgment. If Max is guilty of all that Vongoli suggests, I will see that Max is punished severely. But I would not wish to see my son die while I am still alive.”

  “I understand,” said LoBianco.

  “Would you do an old woman a favor, Jack?”

  LoBianco looked at his aunt. He could not remember ever seeing her appear so fragile.

  “Of course,” said LoBianco. “Anything.”

  “Would you take me to my church?” said Anna Lansdale. “I would like to pray.”

  Darlene tapped lightly on the door of room 618.

  “It’s open,” called Joey Russo from inside.

  Darlene and Jake entered the room. Eddie Hand could hear them and see them on the two monitors as he finished adjusting the equipment in the adjoining room.

  “Jake, how are you feeling?” asked Joey as they came in.

  “Thankful that my wait in the wings is nearly over,” said Diamond. “Thankful that it’s warmed up considerably since I was first out here two months ago.”

  “It’s going to heat up a lot more tomorrow afternoon, Jake,” said Russo. “Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’m ever going to be, Joey.”

  “Good. Let’s get something to eat and go over it one more time,” said Joey.

  Eddie Hand walked in through the connecting doorway. “Done,” he said.

  Darlene looked around the room. “Are the microphones and cameras already set up in here?” she asked.

  “Don’t you see them?” asked Eddie.

  Darlene looked around again, more closely. “No.”

  “Good,” said Eddie Hand. “Did I hear someone mention food?”

  Twenty-Seven

  Max Lansdale was at the bank when the doors opened on Friday morning. He went directly to his safe-deposit box.

  After removing twenty thousand to pay Tucker the day before, Lansdale had less than eighty thousand dollars in cash remaining in the safe box. Diamond would not be able to tell the difference and would never have the opportunity to count it. Lansdale put all of the money into a leather briefcase exactly like the one that he had carried from the casino in Connecticut.

  As Lansdale walked to his office, he thought about the meeting with Jake Diamond. Diamond’s future was very clear to Lansdale; the man had no future after today.

  Lansdale was not terribly worried about the documents that Jake Diamond claimed to hold. He was confident that the documents could not convict him in a court of law. It was the dubious word of a former Chicago medical examiner who had, after all, admitted to falsifying official medical findings. It was Kearney’s word against his own, and Max Lansdale felt he had enough friends and connections to avoid prosecution. It was all of the attention that the case would draw while it was being dragged through the legal system and the media that really worried Lansdale.

  And above all, he dreaded the effect that an investigation and such allegations could have on his mother.

  So Lansdale would do all he could to get his hands on the documents. But one way or the other, Jake Diamond was a dead man.

  Lansdale walked into the office, ignored Darlene, and went back to his desk to wait for the call from Diamond.

  Diamond woke to the sound of his hotel-room telephone. Jake had slept in room 618; Joey Russo had retired to room 620 next door, with the surveillance monitors.

  “Good morning,” Diamond said into the phone.

  “Jake,” said Joey, “I’m here in the hotel dining room. Come down and I’ll buy you breakfast.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jake joined Joey at a table near a window looking out onto Randolph Street.

  “Trouble sleeping, Jake?” Joey asked.

  “The kneecap still keeps me awake from time to time,” said Jake. “Why? Could you hear me moaning from the next room?”

  “I turned on the television looking for Letterman, and there you were tossing and turning on the TV screen.”

  “Isn’t that against the law?” asked Jake.

  “Not since the Homeland Security Act. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  A waitress brought a coffeepot, topped up Joey’s cup, filled Jake’s, and took their order.

  “When you call Lansdale,” Joey said, “tell him to meet you here at the hotel lounge. If he’s half as smart as he thinks he is, he’ll try to find out if you’re staying here at the hotel. Otherwise, I’ll suggest it myself.”

  “Okay.”

  “Set the meeting time for three fifteen, have him show you the money, and then take him straight up to your room.”

  “Got it.”

  “You have to get him to talk about his father and his brother. Whatever it takes, short of any blatant threat or coercion,” said Joey. “Remember what we talked about last night. Appeal to his vanity, let Lansdale know how gutless you believe he is and get him bragging about how he handled his family problems on his own without hired help.”

  “Don’t worry, Joey,” said Jake. “I know how to push Lansdale’s buttons.”

  “And you’ll have to get him to talk before he loses patience and decides that it’s time to call me in,” said Joey. “I’d hate to have to whack you to protect my cover.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” said Jake. “And then you’ll tell m
e why we don’t just turn him over to the police?”

  “You’ll know this afternoon, Jake,” promised Russo as the waitress delivered their food.

  An hour later, Jake phoned Lansdale’s office.

  Darlene took the call and sent it back to Lansdale’s desk. “Jake, how was your trip?”

  “Meet me at the cocktail lounge of the Allegro Hotel at three fifteen. Don’t forget the cash,” Jake said, and hung up.

  Lansdale dialed the number of the man known as Tucker. The answering machine picked up and Lansdale simply stated his name. Then he called the Allegro Hotel and learned that Jake Diamond was checked into room 618.

  Down in the parking garage, Eddie Hand phoned Joey Russo at the hotel. “Lansdale knows that Jake is staying there at the Allegro,” said Eddie. “He’ll be expecting a call from Tucker at the bagel shop in fifty minutes.”

  Lansdale picked up the receiver in the phone booth on the first ring and spoke. “Diamond wants a meet at three fifteen at the bar in the Allegro Hotel. He’s checked into room 618.”

  “Stay near the phone. I’ll call back in ten minutes.”

  Lansdale replaced the receiver, went over to the counter, and bought a coffee, then stood back near the phone booth sipping it; when the phone rang, he grabbed it.

  “Yes?”

  “I was able to reserve the adjoining room, 620. It’s connected to Diamond’s room. He’ll probably take you up there to make the exchange. As soon as you are done with him, unlock the connecting door and call me in. Then take what you need and get out; I’ll handle the rest. And don’t forget to leave my cash.”

  Before Lansdale could comment on the plan, the line went dead.

  “All set, Jake,” Joey Russo said, hanging up on Max Lansdale. “Quarter past three, down in the lounge.”

  “I can hardly wait,” said Diamond.

  The hotel lounge was nearly empty when Lansdale came in, carrying the briefcase. He spotted Diamond at a table against the wall. He walked over, sat opposite Diamond, and placed the briefcase on the table between them.

  “Open it,” Jake said.

  Lansdale undid the latches, opened the case, and turned it to face Diamond. The case was filled with cash.

  “Can I buy you a drink, Jake?” Lansdale asked.

  “Just follow me,” Jake said, rising from his seat and moving out to the hotel lobby.

  Lansdale silently followed Jake onto an elevator, up to the sixth floor, down the hall, and into room 618. He placed the briefcase on the bed.

  “Let’s have the documents, Diamond,” he said. “I’m already tired of looking at you.”

  “You’ll have to suffer a while longer, Max,” Jake said. “There are a few things I need cleared up before we’re done here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Did Ralph Battle set the bomb in my place?”

  “No, but I really couldn’t tell you who did. Ralph never killed anyone, though he came very close to killing me,” said Lansdale. “In any event, you won’t have to deal with Ralph Battle again. Ever.”

  “Battle told me that he killed your father and your brother,” Jake said. “Ralph swore that you begged him to do what you didn’t have the stomach to do yourself.”

  “If Battle said that, he lied to you, Diamond. God knows why and I really couldn’t care less,” said Lansdale. “What’s the point? Give me the documents, take your money, and let’s get this over with.”

  “The point is that you are a worm, Lansdale. A spineless maggot who couldn’t even work up the nerve to silence an old man without help,” said Jake. “Did you have the guts to watch at least, or did you turn away like a coward when your paid assassin smothered your own father until the old man gave up the fight?”

  “The old man gave it up more than twenty years before that night. My father had accumulated wealth and power that was considerable in its time, through his connections with corrupt businessmen and politicians. And that should have been his gift to his sons. But when my mother’s uncle Sam was shot to death, my father chickened out. He always claimed that he did it for us, to protect us. All he did was see to it that we inherited a dime-a-dozen law firm. By the time my father semiretired and left us to do all the grunt work, we may as well have changed our telephone number to 1-800-WHIPLASH.

  “My father held the purse strings to all of the money that remained after putting us both through law school, and after his uncontrollable gambling, his moronic financial investments, his extravagant spending, and the large payoff required to get free of his former colleagues. My father left us with little to guarantee our future security. Until the day he died, he paid us as if it were our weekly allowance.

  “When I was approached with the proposition from New York, to move cash from casinos, I saw it as a way out of the hell that our father had left us in. Something for us. I brought the proposal to my brother, and Randolph was as spineless as the old man had become. I knew I couldn’t bring it to my father without Randolph’s support. I tried to come up with a way to handle it without their knowledge. I made binding promises and commitments in order to work it out. What I didn’t count on was my brother running to my father like a fucking eight-year-old tattletale.

  “My mother was out of town on the day that my father called me, wanting to speak. I couldn’t get there until late. I found him already in his bed. He told me that my brother had blown the whistle on me. He warned me that if I even fantasized about doing business with the New York people, he would know about it and deal harshly. He spoke to me as if I were a fucking child, threatened to have me watched, swore that he would disown me. I assured him I wouldn’t follow up. I bent over to kiss him good night and suddenly I was pressing a pillow over his face and I held it there until he couldn’t make threats anymore. I hadn’t planned it. I can’t remember grabbing the pillow. I never felt remorse. My father was a tyrant and I never felt like a man until he was dead and buried. As I walked out of the house that night, I was already working out a plan to make sure that my fucking informant brother would never bring it back on me.”

  “So you hired Harrison Chandler to throw suspicion on your brother, and you ultimately put a bullet in Randolph’s head,” Jake said. “Jesus, Max, don’t you think you’ve read a little too much Shakespeare?”

  “Hand over the documents, Diamond,” Max Lansdale said, “and perhaps you will live to tell the tragic tale to your grandchildren.”

  “What are you going to do, kill me with a pillow?”

  “I had something more colorful in mind,” Lansdale said as he went over to the connecting doorway.

  He unlocked the door, opened it, and called through to the adjoining room.

  “Come on in,” he said.

  The door from the other room swung open and Lansdale looked up to find his mother standing in the doorway, and Jack LoBianco just behind her.

  Lansdale turned white. He was about to say something, but the hard look in his mother’s eyes rendered him speechless.

  “Jack,” Anna Lansdale said to her nephew.

  “Yes?”

  “Take your cousin down to the lobby. I will join you there,” she said. “I need a few moments to speak with Mr. Vongoli.”

  With that, Anna Lansdale moved back into the adjoining room.

  Max Lansdale had not said a word.

  “Let’s go, Max,” said LoBianco.

  LoBianco took Lansdale by the elbow and began leading him to the door.

  “You might want to take that briefcase,” Jake Diamond said. “What’s in it?” asked LoBianco.

  “A lot of cash.”

  “Why mention it?”

  “I don’t want to hear about it again later,” Jake said. “Did I hear your aunt mention the name Vongoli?”

  “Yes, Joseph Vongoli. Joe Clams,” said Jack LoBianco, taking the briefcase. “Do you know him?”

  “I know of him,” Jake said.

  If Diamond and Lansdale ever had something in common, it was the look of astonishment on both their faces. />
  LoBianco led Lansdale out of the hotel room.

  Jake called Eddie Hand.

  “All done there?” asked Eddie.

  “I’m not quite sure, but you may as well head down and start collecting the equipment.”

  “We’re on our way,” said Eddie.

  Jake Diamond sat down on the bed and waited.

  A few minutes later, Anna Lansdale returned to the room. Jake rose.

  “Mr. Diamond,” she said. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about the death of your friend.”

  “So am I,” Jake said. “Thank you for saying so. May I escort you down to the lobby?”

  “I can manage,” the woman said, moving to the door. “Mr. Vongoli would like to speak with you now.”

  Anna Lansdale left the hotel room.

  Jake Diamond walked through the connecting doorway to meet Joe Clams.

  Twenty-Eight

  When I came through the doorway into 620, I found Joey Russo sitting in one of the two chairs at the small table in the corner of the hotel room. Joey was as well dressed as I had ever seen him. On the table in front of him were a newly opened bottle of George Dickel and two glasses. He began to pour and invited me to take the other seat.

  “Why keep it from me?” I asked as I sat.

  “It has been a secret for nearly fifty years, Jake. Only my family has known who we are, and Sonny of course. Please don’t take it personally. I took a big risk with Anna Lansdale and her nephew, and I didn’t want to put any of you in jeopardy if it didn’t work out. Anna Lansdale was a Giancana. She was the only person who could take the Vongoli name permanently off the Giancana vendetta list,” said Joey. “By the way, you did a terrific job in there.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I didn’t know about your trouble with Lansdale until after the explosion. I had no idea that you were trying to find Harry Chandler and Joe Clams,” Joey said, “or I would have returned early to help you out. By the time I did get back, you didn’t seem very interested in Joseph Vongoli any longer. I felt that it would be best to keep it that way until this was over. Particularly after I learned that it was Max Lansdale who had my sister Carla killed.”