Hawk shook his head. “No. After he left, Gaddino really began to move. He left a trail of bodies all over America. Contracts were issued for family bosses in Los Angeles, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Chicago, and just about every major city in the nation. Within two years he was the unquestioned leader of the national La Cosa Nostra. He could afford to be generous, so he did not push the contract against Rozano Nicoli. Everybody prospered, including Nicoli.”
There was a pause. I noticed the girls had completed their exercises and were jogging off the field. Hawk continued to look at the mountains. Tanya was looking at me.
The cigar was dropped on the grass and mashed with Hawk’s shoe. He turned to look at me. His eyes looked deeply concerned.
“Many people don’t realize, Carter, how truly far-reaching the powers of La Cosa Nostra are. The methods used by Carlo Gaddino to take over simply would not work today.”
I nodded in agreement. “There would be too much publicity now if the boss of every major city was killed. The FBI would be on him so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him.”
“Precisely. There is something else, too. While the Cosa Nostra has expanded in most areas, there is one in which they have retreated. Narcotics. The Bureau of Narcotics has had a get-tough attitude toward the families trafficking in drugs. So, although controlling much of the importing of heroin, the families have increasingly left the wholesale market of drugs in America to the Negro and Puerto Rican underworld.”
Tanya frowned. “Then why are they pushing heroin into Saigon?”
“Not they, my dear, just Nicoli.”
Four
Hawk stood in the middle of the grassy field and pulled another cigar from his pocket. His eyes locked with Tanya’s in a look I didn’t quite understand. He gave her a curt nod.
She smiled at me. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have an appointment.”
“Of course,” I said.
We watched her walk away, and it was more of a strut than a walk. I wondered if it was for my benefit, or if she always strutted like that. It didn’t really make much difference, my being over thirty and probably over the hill.
“Delightful young lady,” Hawk said. “Brilliant mind. She will be an asset to you on this assignment, Carter.”
“Yes, sir.” I was still wondering what my assignment might be. “She seems very young, though.”
“By necessity, Carter. Have you had breakfast?”
“No, sir.”
He put his hand on my arm. “Let’s go to the commissary then, and see what they can rustle up for us.”
We started walking across the grass. He had the cigar clenched between his teeth, unlit. The dark clouds above had completely blocked the sun. The bite in the air had become worse. Both of us turned up the collars of our coats as we reached the sidewalk.
At the door of the commissary, Hawk left instructions that Tanya was to be notified where we were. We picked up trays and walked through the line loading the trays with scrambled eggs, hash brown potatoes, sausage, and a pot of black coffee.
As we sat to eat, Hawk poured a cup of coffee. “Where was I?” he said suddenly.
I had to think. “Rozano Nicoli.” He started buttering toast. “While the Cosa Nostra was expanding all over America, Rozano Nicoli remained in Palermo. He prospered also, but he never made his peace with Carlo Gaddino. Things went well for a number of years, and then two weeks ago something happened.”
“Nicoli came back to America?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Carlo Gaddino was very mysteriously found in the sauna bath of his private club. There were nineteen bullet holes in his head. Of course no one heard any shots. There was a large, lavish funeral nine days ago.”
The food was good. It didn’t take me long to devour it. “Sounds like Nicoli is trying to clear a path for his return,” I said.
“Very possibly.” He held a fork toward me. “Carter, we already have eight dead agents. I don’t want you to be number nine. I’ll tell you what those eight agents gave us before they were killed.”
I sat back sipping coffee.
“As I said, Nicoli commutes between Palermo and Istanbul. And he has picked up some interesting friends. While in Istanbul he has been keeping company with a known Turkish Communist named Konya. He also has a constant companion wherever he goes, an Oriental called Tai Sheng, who is a high-ranking member of the People’s Republic in China. In fact he is one of their ace pilots and has earned the nickname, The Winged Tiger. We think he has a great deal of influence over Nicoli, and besides Acasano, whom you are now impersonating, he is Nicoli’s closest friend.”
We had finished eating. There were two lovely young ladies in the place besides us. They were in a far corner, heads together in whispered conversation. The commissary was like all the others at AXE training schools. Pea-green walls surgically clean, well-polished tile floors, small round tables with wrought-iron chairs. Girls and women selected for training all had to put in their time as waitresses, cooks, and dishwashers. It was part of the discipline.
Hawk and I leaned back sipping coffee. He pulled out yet a third cigar and stuck it between his teeth. This one he fit. I pulled out one of my gold-tipped cigarettes.
When we were smoking, I said, “Do we know anything about this Tai Sheng: his background, why he’s such a high-ranking member of the People’s Republic?”
The leathery face remained passive. “We know several things. It is believed that he organized the Chinese Communist Air Force which helped drive Chiang Kai-shek out of mainland China to Taiwan. Supposedly he speaks often with none other than Mao Tse-tung himself.”
A whistle escaped from my lips. Tai Sheng was beginning to impress me.
“After receiving Red China’s highest medal from Mao Tse-tung, Sheng helped organize factory production of fighter planes and in later years, missiles.” Hawk blew a puff of cigar smoke toward the ceiling. “Like Nicoli, he is in his early to middle fifties, and he has a great deal of ambition. We think he personally arranged the path of heroin from Istanbul to Saigon. Nicoli provided the capital and has reaped most of the benefits.”
I studied him with a frown. “With heroin selling at three dollars a vial in Saigon, Nicoli’s profit margin can’t be all that great. It must bother him to know he could get one hundred times that amount in the States.”
“Believe me,” Hawk replied, “it bothers him. But even at three dollars a vial he is making a one hundred per cent profit.”
My frown of disbelief seemed to amuse him a little. The report on heroin came back to mind as he spoke again.
“In America one ounce of heroin will bring seven thousand dollars. Most of the heroin shipments coming in here are sent from Turkey, either direct or by way of Mexico and Canada. Compared to what is paid for the stuff in Turkey, it can be sold in the U.S. at a three thousand per cent profit. Which is the main reason why dope smuggling is so lucrative to so many.”
It had all been in the report. Hawk made a minor ritual of using the ash-tray edge to push an ash off the end of his cigar. He seemed in deep thought.
“Eight agents, Carter,” he said softly, looking at the ash tray. “Their lives paid for your assignment. I’ll tell you what information was gained at that cost. We believe that La Cosa Nostra in America is now without leadership. There has been little activity from organized crime lately; everything seems silent. We further think it was Rozano Nicoli who gave the hit order on Carlo Gaddino, and that order was carried out by someone connected with the Chinese Communist Party in the U.S., under the orders of Tai Sheng. AXE also thinks that Rozano Nicoli intends to take over organized crime in the States, and has already put out feelers to find who will back him and who will oppose him. Tai Sheng would use American Chicoms from large-city Chinatowns to deal with anyone opposing Nicoli. Nicoli is short-sighted; he can only see as far as the huge profits from smuggling heroin into the U.S. He actually believes that he is using Tai Sheng and the Chicoms to help him take over in the States, as well as providing the route for heroin from Istanbul to Saigon. But what will actually happen is that Nicoli will become a Chinese Communist puppet, if he isn’t already. It is obvious that the Chicoms want to demoralize American troops in Vietnam, but to take over organized crime in the U.S., using Nicoli as a front, would be like the power in Peking taking over General Motors.”