The Last Don - Mario Puzo [115]
Dante said, “Tim, my understanding is that you want to go into business with me.”
“No, I want you to go into business with me,” Big Tim said with boastful good humor. “I run the show. You get your money washed without paying a premium. And make a good bit extra. I have a mall I’m building outside Fresno and you can get a piece for five million or ten. I have a lot of other deals all the time.”
“That sounds very good,” Pippi De Lena said.
Big Tim gave him a cold stare. “Where do you shine in? I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“He’s my junior partner,” Dante said. “My advisor. I have the money but he has the brains.” He paused and then said sincerely, “He’s told me a lot of good things about you, Tim, that’s why we’re talking.”
The yacht was moving very swiftly now, the glasses trembled on the tray. Big Tim debated whether he should cut this guy in on the Super Bowl fix. Then he had one of his hunches, and they were never wrong. He leaned back in his chair, sipped his brandy, and gave both men a serious questioning look, which he often gave and had in fact rehearsed. The look of a man about to bestow his trust. In a best friend. “I’m going to let you guys in on a secret,” he said. “But first, are we going to do business? You want a piece of the mall?”
“I’m in,” Dante said. “Our lawyers will get together tomor-row and I’ll put up some good faith money.”
Big Tim emptied his brandy glass and then leaned forward. “I can fix the Super Bowl,” he said. With a dramatic flourish he signaled to Pippi to fill his glass. He was gratified to see the look of astonishment on their faces. “You think I’m full of shit, right?” he said.
Dante took off his Renaissance hat and looked at it thoughtfully. “I think you’re peeing in my hat,” he said with a reminiscing smile. “A lot of people try. But Pippi is the expert on this stuff. Pippi?”
“Can’t be done,” Pippi said. “The Super Bowl is eight months away and you don’t even know who’ll be in it.”
“Then fuck you,” Big Tim said. “You don’t want part of a sure thing, that’s okay with me. But I’m telling you I can fix it. If you don’t want it okay, let’s do the mall. Turn this boat around and stop wasting my fucking time.”
“Don’t be so touchy,” Pippi said. “Just tell us how the fix works.”
Big Tim gulped his brandy and said in a regretful voice, “I can’t tell you that. But I’ll give you a guarantee. You bet ten million and we split the winnings. If anything goes wrong, I’ll give you ten million back. Now is that fair?”
Dante and Pippi looked at each other with amused grins. Dante ducked his head, and his Renaissance hat made him look like a cunning squirrel. “You give me the money back in cash?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” Big Tim said. “I’ll make it up on another deal. Take ten million off the price.”
“Do you fix the players?” Dante asked.
“He can’t,” Pippi said. “They make too much money. It must be the officials.”
Big Tim was enthusiastic now. “I can’t tell you but it’s foolproof. And never mind the money. Think of the glory. It will be the biggest fix in sports history.”
“Sure, they’ll toast us in jail,” Dante said.
“That’s the beauty of me not telling you anything,” Big Tim said. “I go to jail, you guys don’t. And my lawyers are too good and I have too many connections.”
For the first time, Dante varied Pippi’s script. He said, “Are we far enough out?”
Pippi said, “Yeah, but I think if we talk a little more, Tim will tell us.”
“Fuck Tim,” Dante said pleasantly. “You hear that, Big Tim? Now I want to hear how the fix works and no bullshit.” His tone was so contemptuous that Big Tim’s face flushed red.
“You little prick,” he said, “you think you can scare me? You think you’re tougher than the FBI, and the IRS, and the toughest shylock on the West Coast? I’ll shit in your hat.”
Dante leaned back in his chair and banged on the wall of the cabin. A few seconds later two large, tough-looking men opened the door, then stood guard. In answer, Big Tim stood up and swept the table clean with one huge arm. Liquor