"Luckiest night of my life... for the next two years we went places and met people and saw things... oh, Harry. Anytime you wonder how I know something or where I met someone or how in the world did I ever hear about thus and so, it was probably because of those two years. There was no place his money and reputation couldn't get us into... and there are some stories I could tell and some stories it'd be better if I didn't even remember. If we wanted to meet someone or get invited to a certain party, Tony turned on the charm, made with the money, dropped names if he had to and we were in. A lot of times, the charm was all that he needed. He was incredibly well-read and very well-spoken... he wasn't your typical mobster. He liked to call himself a 'student of the human condition with a lot of lab experience'. He was a witty, funny man. Which made some of what we saw together even harder to keep a straight face through.
"Harry, you remember that woman, used to be mayor, big in real estate? I've seen her kneeling naked, getting a cum shower from twelve men then getting it washed off by a golden shower from the same dicks. And she was the fucking mayor at the time! I've seen that Robert Milton guy, the ex-televangelist, gobbling cock like he was at a hot-dog-eating contest and let me tell you, his mouth works just at fast sucking dick as it does preaching and praying.
"There are still places in this town where you can get anything and anyone you want, for a price. There are places where you can watch any sex act you can imagine being performed, or for even more money, join in. I'm pretty sure we saw most of them.
"We went out to a little concrete bunker in the hills one night, watched some people making what was supposed to be a hardcore porn film with some S & M elements. This big bitch, six foot four, built like a goddess of war, is fucking this pretty young boy, couldn't have been more than sixteen, seventeen, she's on top and he tells her he's about to come and she... she... she shoved..."
Carol's composure had dissolved into tears. "Carol, Baby Girl, shhhh, whatever it is that's upsetting you about this, you don't have to say anymore."
"No, no I do. She shoved an ice pick in the soft spot on his temple and rotated it, wrenched it around in there... and she was coming while she did it... we were watching them make a snuff flick... I screamed and Tony and his boys got me out of there. Tony apologized to me for hours later... he thought it was just a normal S&M porn shoot.
"Two weeks later, I was helping him get ready for bed and he told me that I didn't have to worry about those people ever making another movie like that. Like an idiot I asked him if he'd had them arrested. He said no, he'd had the boys find out who their distributors were and delivered the filmmakers to them in pieces. I asked him about the woman who actually did it. He just looked at me and said there were things I really didn't want to know. About a year later I could have sworn I saw her turning tricks on 8
th
Street. The woman's arms had so many track marks on them they looked like railroad yards, a lot of her teeth were broken off and she was definitely working the low rent end of the street. She didn't look like a goddess of war, she looked like a crack whore in the last days of her life and if it was her, it would've been much kinder of them to kill her. I doubt you'll find anybody in this area to this day who'll consider making snuff films.
"After that, I told him I'd heard rumors about a House on the south side that dealt in children, under the age of fourteen, but I never wanted to see it and if he went there I never wanted to hear about it or what happened afterwards. He and the boys would go out without me on occasion, maybe one of those nights they visited there. All I know is I never heard of the place again.
"I don't want you to think that places like those were the only places we went. We went to the symphony, the opera and to the theater. We'd go to clubs that played big band, swing and jazz. We'd go dancing. Of course he didn't have too much use for modern music but I even got him into Absinthe & Opium, a goth club downtown. He never quite got 'goth' or the music and I had no luck explaining it to him.
"After every concert or symphony, after every live performance of music, he'd hunt and peck out at least a paragraph, sometimes much more, on an old typewriter he had. I asked him what he was doing the first time I saw him do it. He explained he was putting down his impressions of the music, the performers, the whole experience, so he could always remember it the way it was that very night. I asked him how long he'd been doing that. He said he'd been doing it all his life. I imagine his family's thrown them away, but Harry, just from stories he'd tell, what was in some of those notes... there probably wasn't a big band he didn't see live. He saw Enrico Caruso perform several times. He caught most of the Rat Pack's Vegas shows while they were there to film the original "Ocean's 11", even hung out with them. He was acquainted with Beverly Sills and Luciano Pavarotti, hell, he knew a lot of opera's biggest stars over his lifetime. He used to take them out to dinner or throw parties for them when he and they were in the same town. He and Duke Ellington were on a first name basis with each other.
"If I had to define Tony by just one attribute it would be his love of music. From the notes he took to his album collection to the joy he took in hearing me sing. The radio was on the classical or golden oldies station almost all day long. When he played a record, it was almost like going to church. He'd pull out the album, carefully remove the disc from its sleeve, lovingly clean it, clean the stylus, put it on and settle in to listen. We didn't talk, we didn't read, we didn't do anything but listen when an album was playing ... no humming along, no singing along, no other extraneous sounds. We listened. He always said that you don't read a book and look at a painting at the same time, you don't watch television and examine a piece of sculpture simultaneously, music is art and should be treated as such. I never touched one of his albums, he didn't offer and I didn't ask. Those were his holy icons and I wasn't a member of the priesthood. I guess I am now. Hell Harry, it sounds like I've inherited the temple.
"We lived together, along with his bodyguards, in a suite of apartments in the old Arco Tower building. He was still married, of course, no divorce for a good Catholic, but both he and his wife were happy with him living away from the house, so we had our privacy. Tony and I never did much with each other. He was too old and in too much pain a lot of the time, although only his bodyguards and I knew it, but by God he got to see what he wanted to see. And when he was feeling up to it, we had some very good times together. But mostly I was his companion, someone young and pretty for him to look at.
"Then, the last year of his life, I was his nursemaid as well. I loved him, Harry. Not the way I love you, or Margo or even Kelly, but I loved him. He was good to me, he was kind and he was a gentleman. So when he got sick and wanted me to leave I told him in no uncertain terms that he'd have to make me go because I knew in his heart he didn't want me to. He hired a nurse and outfitted the apartment so he wouldn't have to go to the hospital till the very end. On his good days he and I could ignore all the damn machines and the nurse and pretend he wasn't dying. Those were some bittersweet days, Harry, when I could forget what he'd been most of his life and hold him and tell him honestly that I wished I'd known him when he was younger.
"Eventually the day came he had to go to the hospital and we all knew it was the last trip, so I packed up what I absolutely needed into two small suitcases and went to live at the hospital. Vic made sure the family knew that when they came to see him I'd be nowhere around but none of them ever made the trip. They were so angry at that sick old man for shit that had happened over the years that they risked pissing off Vic just to snub him. I suppose they had their reasons. I'll never believe they were valid enough to leave an old man dying alone but then again what I believe doesn't matter. They didn't come. Late one night he called me over to his bed side, and he looked at me and said "Gimme a kiss, sugar, I got to go"... and I did... and he left..."
Harry took the weeping woman in his arms and stroked her hair. Her sobs shook the two of them for a long time. "God, I wish you'd have been able to meet him, Harry... he would've liked you... you would've liked him..."
"Anyway, after he passed, Vic put me up in a hotel until the funeral but after the graveside I did a vanishing act because Phil had been eyeing me for years. I was so alone. For three years I'd had this man as my owner, my companion, someone who'd been unfailingly polite and kind even when he was in so much pain that morphine was doing nothing for him, even then he was always a gentleman to me.
"And he was gone and I had some money and two small suitcases and no owner and nowhere to go. I was staying with a girl I knew and her Master, a repulsive little toad of a man named Morgan, who was starting to eye me, so I was out actively looking when I found Paul, Paul Sands, a high school English teacher. A nice enough guy, rather new to the scene, had a real taste for it. The only problem with him was he liked watching me get fucked by other guys and like I told you, I'm monogamous when it comes to men. We'd been together for over a year when one of his resumes landed him a job offer in Michigan to teach at a private school. He couldn't afford to take me with him."
"But honey, if Paul was going to work at a private school, surely they were paying him more money, even with cost of living differences."
"Harry, you ought to know, there's 'affording' in the fiscal sense and 'affording' in the social sense. As a new teacher at a private school he was going to be under the microscope and a live-in slave didn't fit the school image. I didn't want to leave here anyway. All my friends and contacts are here; in Michigan, I knew nobody. When he left I went to work in a Denny's, earned just enough to keep a roof over my head and while I had food if I was working, I wasn't working all the time. So, Rick came along and I knew better but I was tired and I was hungry and I wanted out of the life I was in. I'd been with Rick about 7 months when I wandered into the Pearl and saw you trying to drown yourself in alcohol."
