“Only where certain businesses, like this one, was concerned. And Drury had no knowledge of that. don’t get thinking Bas was dirty, ’cause he wasn’t — he was just a lawyer with various clients... like a private eye can have various clients.”
“Right. Would I be overstepping if I suggested you might have been helping Bas in his efforts to unseat Tubbo?”
He twitched a grimace. “I’d rather not say. Tubbo has been a friend to Outfit interests for a lot of years — one-stop shopping, a fixer who can help with both the cops and the State’s Attorney’s office. But a guy that’s been around as long as Tubbo can get... too powerful. Too full of himself.”
For a guy who’d “rather not say,” Sam had said a hell of a lot.
I sat forward. “Was Tubbo involved in the Drury hit? The Bas hit?”
“Heller, I don’t know the answer to that question. But I know you — and know how you can go off on these... little rampages, now and then. You wouldn’t talk to the Kefauver Committee, but you might decide to settle some scores in your own way. You’ve done it before.”
I just shrugged.
He leaned forward, and lifted his right hand off the table, to gesture. “Now... there’s something you need to know, Heller: neither of these hits was... what’s the word? Approved — authorized. Just the opposite — Charley Fischetti asked to have this done, and was told not to. In no uncertain terms.”
“But he did it anyway.”
Giancana leaned back, raised another eyebrow. “Charley claims not — swears up and down, stack of Bibles, mother’s grave. This was a meeting at the highest level, understand — Ricca, Accardo, Guzik...”
“Do they believe him?”
“Fuck no. But Charley hasn’t been challenged over this. He’s still a powerful guy, Heller — Al’s cousin, remember. And a smart guy — knows the business side. Understands the politics. Which is why you’d think he’d know better...”
“So the boys are letting this slide?”
He shook his head, folded his arms. “Don’t think there isn’t a lot of displeasure. Don’t think guys like Ricca and Big Tuna like having to pack their bags in the middle of the night and beat ass out of town, like common punk crooks.”
The back of my neck was starting to tingle. “You’re not saying... You’re not giving me permission to...”
Tiny shrug. “I’m not saying anything. I might be implying that if you wanted to do something, personal, about Charley Fischetti... there would be no repercussions from certain circles. You know, when you might expect there to be.”
“...And just how would I find Charley Fischetti?”
“At a hotel in Mexico.”
I blinked. “What hotel in Mexico?”
Giancana reached inside his coat, almost as if he were going for a gun; but I wasn’t nervous, anymore. He just handed me a small piece of paper with quite a bit of writing on it.
“That hotel in Mexico,” he said.
I slipped the piece of paper in my pocket without looking at it. “I saw Bas go down.”
Giancana’s eyes flared; this really was news to him. “No kidding?”
“No kidding... Obviously, not in time to stop it. I got a shot off at the torpedoes — cracked their windshield. Got a good look at the bastards.”
“Anyone you know?”
“No.” I described the mustached pair. “Anybody
His expression gave away nothing. “Maybe... Maybe.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Sam?”
With his folded arms, and his tiny smile, Giancana seemed guarded, to say the least. “Heller, like you, I have to be discreet. I’m limited in what I can say. But I will say this — those two gunmen are almost certainly from out of town... just not very far out of town.”
“Jesus, Sam — what does that mean?”
Another tiny shrug. “That’s all I can say. That slip of paper I give you?”
“Yeah?”
“The number at the bottom — that’s a local number. You have any problems — need any... assistance... you call that number. If I don’t answer, somebody will, who can get me in a hurry.”
“You’re not going to Florida?”
“Not right away.”
“You, uh — mentioned Kefauver going after the wives of Outfit guys. Where did you hear that, Sam?”
“I just heard it, is all.”
“You have somebody on Kefauver’s staff, don’t you?”
“Now you’re asking too many questions, Heller.”
“Just tell me — is it Halley?”
“Fuck no! That vicious, slandering son of a bitch. If he was ours, would he make so many lives miserable?”
I kept pressing, though my tone seemed casual. “You know Rocco married that girl — from the Chez, Jackie Payne? Married her the other day so she couldn’t testify against him.”
Giancana smirked. “Yeah — little Miss Chicago. But word now is, Rocky was wrong... that canary
“What, Sam?”
“She’ll talk. She’ll sing her lungs out. I mean, shit, she’s a junkie... The feds will own the keys to her.” He shook his head. “Fucking Rocco — he’s a chowderhead, anyway, a real shit-for-brains. And
“Maybe you wouldn’t mind if something bad happened to him,” I said.
His face was blandly expressionless again. “I’d get over it.”
