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He had woman's lips, full and sensuous, yet there was nothing effeminate about him. Behind him, on the wall were pictures of a stately matron and eight children, his family.
He did not look up from the chess board, as Felton sat down in a chair at his elbow.
Felton inspected the face for aging, the hands for a tremble, the body movements for hesitancy. There were none. Viaselli was still a potent man.
«What move would you make, Norman?» Viaselli asked. His voice was even, his pronunciation Oxford excellent.
«I don't know chess, Carmine.»
«Let me explain it to you. I am under attack by the black queen and the black bishop. I can destroy the queen. I can destroy the bishop.» Viaselli's lips closed and there was silence.
Felton crossed his legs and stared at the figures on the checkered board. They meant nothing to him. He knew Viaselli wanted a comment. He would not give it.
«Norman, why should I not destroy the queen and the bishop?»
«If I understood chess, Carmine, I would tell you.»
«You would be a worthy opponent if you learned the game.»
«I have other games.»
«Life is not the limit of your endeavor, Norman, but the extent of it.»
«Life is what I make it.»
«You should have been an Italian.»
«You should have been a Jew.»
«It's the next best thing.» A warm smile crossed Viaselli's face as he pondered the board. «What I never could understand was your fondness for Southerners.»
«What fondness?»
«Jimmy from Texas.»
«Merely an employee.»
«Merely? It never appeared like that to me.»
«Appearances are deceiving.»
«Appearances are all there is.»
«I have your brother-in-law,» Felton said, anxious to end the philosophy.
«Tony?»
«Yes.»
«Ah, that brings back the problem of the black queen and the black bishop. Should I destroy them?»
«Yes,» Felton said, «but not when you're outnumbered.»
«Outnumbered?»
«Just you, me and your man. You're outnumbered,» Felton said nodding to the conservatively dressed gentleman at the door.
«And all my people in the living room?»
«An evening's entertainment for Jimmy.»
«I don't think so, but nevertheless, you are not the black queen and black bishop. You are my white queen, the most powerful piece on the board. For you to turn black would be disaster for me, considering that I am under attack.»
«I am under attack too.»
Viaselli looked up from the board and smiled.
Felton placed a hand on the table. «Who are we fighting?»
«I'm glad you said we, Norman.» Viaselli soffly clapped his hands. «I'm glad, and yet I don't know. A Senate committee is coming to our area, probably in two weeks. Yet we've been under surveillance now for five years. Does the Senate prepare that far in advance? No, I don't think so. And the investigations have been different. You have noticed. With the FBI and the tax men, investigations would end up in court. But these five years of men snooping around have not ended up in court.»
«You mentioned a Senate investigation?»
«Yes. The Senate is working its way east across country and will be here soon. All of a sudden there have been more people snooping around.»
«That accounts for the increase in targets in recent months.»
«I think so. But there's something else that's strange. You are under attack?»
Felton nodded. «Another family fight among you guineas?»
Viaselli's cheeks reddened, but he showed no other emotion. «No,» he said. «We have a new opponent. I do not know who or what he is. Do you?»
«I may know in a couple of days.»
«Good. I want to know too. Now you can return Tony.»
«Maybe.»
Carmine became silent. He had a way of silence that he could use more effectively than words. Felton knew that to reopen the conversation would give Carmine the edge. And all Carmine needed, despite Felton's feeling about how much he did for the man and how much the man needed him, was for Felton to make the first move and he would be lost.
It had been that way twenty years ago, only then Viaselli didn't have his headquarters in the Royal Plaza Hotel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was the back of a grocery store which Viaselli's father ran for a living. Instead of the fancy carved ivory chess pieces, Viaselli was leaning over a wooden case on which were painted black and white squares. He was pondering the cheap wooden pieces when Felton entered.
The summer-hatched flies dominated the room. Viaselli looked up.
«Sit down,» he had said. «I want to talk about money.»
Felton stood. «What does a second-rate numbers ru
Viaselli moved a pawn forward. «I know there's a war on. I know there's a lot to be had. I know you're not getting much of it.»
«I'm getting enough.»
«Two grand a job on a contract basis? Is that enough for a smart Jewboy?»
«It's more than dumb guineas make.»
Viaselli moved a bishop from the opposite side of the board.
«Today, yes. Tomorrow?»
«Alphonso isn't going to let you make any more. Blood or not, he doesn't trust you. I've heard.»
«And if Alphonso is dead?»
«Giacomo takes it.»
«And if Giacomo is dead?»
«Louis.»
«And if Louis is dead?»
Felton shrugged. «It would take a plague to kill that many.»
«And if Louis is dead?» Viaselli moved a knight endangering the bishop he had brought out from the other side.
Felton shrugged again. «You bring me here to pass the time of day?»
«And if Louis is dead?» Viaselli repeated.
«Someone else.»
«Who else?»
«Whoever has the balls.»
«Flaherty. Would Flaherty take over?»
«No, he's not a wop.»
«What am I?»
«A wop, but it don't mean you're going to grab the whole works just because your name ends in an 'I'.»
Viaselli moved out another knight. «It's a good begi
«You want me to work for you?»
Viaselli moved his queen. It was one move to mate. He recited: «You kill Alphonso. You kill Giacomo. You kill Louis. Then…»
«Then what?» Felton said.
«Then who's going to kill you?»
«You.»
«With what? You'll be the only one around with artillery. The only one with any brains, anyway. The whole syndicate will be disorganized.»
«Then why don't I rub you out, and take over myself,» Felton asked.
«Because you're not a wop. Every Mafioso would be gu
«And you wouldn't?»
«I'm one of their own. They'll learn to live with me. Particularly if I can get things going again.»
He looked long and hard at Felton. «What's your future now? Two guineas fight and you wind up dying for the money. A couple of lousy grand. Is that any way for a Jew to die?»
«Dead is dead.»
«But you can live. And on top of the pile.»
«And you don't doublecross me?»
«You'll be my queen. My most powerful piece. Doublecross my queen?»
«How about your torpedoes?»
«I won't have any.»
«The ones you inherit.»
«I send them away, Chicago, Frisco, New Orleans. You will be my army. The only way to make this business pay, without trouble, is to separate the money makers from the troublemakers. No one who works for me will carry a gun. You'll do all that work. You get paid, not by the job, but by salary and a percentage of the take. Get rid of Alphonso, Giacomo and Louis, and you'll start off with one million dollars.»
«I wish I understood chess.»
«You could be a master,» Viaselli said.
But Felton didn't have time for chess. From the East Side, he rounded up Moesher, the kid who would stand all day and fire pistols at targets. Angelo Scottichio he found at a bar, pla