American Tabloid - James Ellroy [68]
Stanton tapped his chin. “Mr. Dulles was ready to request green cards for all the men. He’d be pleased to know that we’re being so selective early on. He hates begging the INS for favors.”
Kemper put a hand up. “Don’t deport the men we reject. Banister knows some Cubans in New Orleans, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. There’s a large Batistaite community there.”
“Then let Guy have the men we reject. Let them find jobs or not find jobs, and have them file for visas on their own in Louisiana.”
“How many men do you think will meet your qualifications?”
“I have no idea.”
Stanton looked eager. “Mr. Dulles has approved the purchase of some cheap south Florida land for our initial training site. I think I could convince him to keep our permanent cadre there small and contained, if you think the men you select can also train future arrivals before we disperse them to the other camps that I’m certain will be springing up.”
Kemper nodded. “I’ll make training skills one of my criteria. Where is this land?”
“It’s on the coast, outside a small town named Blessington.”
“Is it accessible to Miami?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I was thinking of the Tiger Kab stand as a recruiting hub.”
Stanton looked almost hot and bothered. “Gangster connotations aside, I think the Tiger Kab place could be utilized. Chuck Rogers is working there already, so we’ve already got an in.”
Kemper said, “John”—very slowly.
Stanton looked dead ecstatic. “The answer to all your suggestions is yes, pending the deputy director’s approval. And bravo, Kemper. You’re more than fulfilling my expectations.”
Kemper stood up and bowed. “Thanks. And I think we’ll make Castro rue the day he sent that boat off.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears. And by the way, what do you think your friend Jack would say about our little freedom barge?”
Kemper laughed. “Jack would say, ‘Where’s the women?’ ”
Paez talked a blue streak. Kemper rolled down his window for relief.
They hit Miami at rush hour. Paez kept jabbering. Kemper drummed the dashboard and tried to replay his talk with Stanton.
“… and Mr. Thomas Gordean was my patrón at La United. He loved pussy until his fondness for I. W. Harper bonded bourbon inappropriated him. Most of the executives at La United got out after Castro took over, but Mr. Gordean has remained behind. Now, he is drinking even more heavily. He has several thousand shares of United Fruit stock with him, and refuses to leave. He has bought off militiamen to be his private bodyguards and is beginning to sprout the Communist line himself. My great fear is that Mr. Gordean will go Communisto like the Fidel I loved long ago. I fear that he will become a propaganda tool par eccentricity and …”
“Stock shares”—
“Thomas Gordean”—
A light bulb popped on and nearly blinded him. Kemper almost ran his car off the road.
DOCUMENT INSERT: 2/10/59. Hush-Hush stringer report: Lenny Sands to Pete Bondurant.
Pete,
Here’s a lead I’ve picked up. 1.—Mickey Cohen’s diving for crumbs. He’s got two goons (George Piscatelli 8c Sam Lo Cigno) set to maybe work a sex shakedown racket. I got this from Dick Contino, in Chicago for some accordion soiree. Mickey got the idea when he read Lana Turner’s love letters to Johnny Stompanato after Lana’s daughter shanked Johnny. Johnny used to screw rich widows and had some out-of-work cameraman film it. Mickey’s got some choice film clips. Tell Mr. Hughes he’ll sell them for 3 grand.
Cheers,
Lenny
DOCUMENT INSERT: 2/24/59. Hush-Hush stringer report: Lenny Sands to Pete Bondurant.
Pete,
I’ve been on the road with Sal D’Onofrio’s junket gig. Here’s some tidbits. 1.—All the midnight shift cocktail waitresses at the Dunes Hotel in Vegas are hookers. They serviced President Eisenhower’s Secret Service crew when Ike addressed the Nevada State Legislature.