"Sal,” Bonni smiled after taking a long pull of wine, "just remember who is keeping the feds off your back."
In fact, for the last 10 years or so, Senator Giardina used her congressional influence to keep the FBI from investigating Sal or any of his West Coast associates. All the San Francisco mob had to do was avoid any major civilian-involved incidents and they could conduct business without any interference.
Sal looked down slightly, pretending to act like a hurt puppy. "And we appreciate you clearing the way for us to do business."
He moved into the heart of the Motorhead situation, "Patea's daughter Kitiona has proven to be very stubborn. We have approached her indirectly through the local Samoan authorities and tried to pay her off. They had no success. In fact, they seemed to think that our attempts to quiet her only worsen her anger," Sal concluded.
Senator Giardina quickly said, "Why don't your people bump her off? All of our problems would be solved."
"She's protected. The community has blanketed her with watchful eyes. The Samoans we tried to buy off, have turned on us. I think Neil Perkins has even tried to remove her."
Bonni said emphatically. "We need her to stop digging into her family's death. You said that you tied up all the loose ends." Bonni was annoyed. The alcohol was feeding her courage and her voice volume.
"All those savages are related on that island and unofficially she knows the fire was arsine. The whos, whats and whys of the fire will be very difficult for her to trace. However, it doesn't take a genius to figure out who benefits the most from the fire, Amerastar. You should reconsider allowing the union process to continue.” Sal lamented as if his grandfather were sitting next to him.
"We're paying those peasants too much as it is. Our profits were down 12% last quarter," Bonni rationalized. "I have an agreement with my husband. He will double whatever profits Motorhead earns and put that money into my re-election Super PAC. So when profits are down, I get short changed.”
Sal gave her a blank stare. He realized that this was about campaign contributions.
Bonni sipped her wine and continued. “But that’s not all. If we sell Motorhead, I’ll make enough money to finance reelections for the rest of my political career and then some.”
Sal finished his stare. "Sounds like a sweet deal. But haven’t you bought enough votes not to have to worry about Motorhead’s profits and your reelection money?”
“Are you serious? A politician can never have enough money. Lucky the voters pay for my trips back here. That’s an easy mil every round trip, booze included.”
“It seems to me like you want your cake sweetened at both ends.”
The Senator chuckled to herself. "And I deserve every nickel. I wish we could have passed the president's tax bill last session. Then I could fly in a bigger plane and take more international trips. Spain and Italy are beautiful this time of the year," she said wishfully.
After a few moments, she became serious and domineering. “I want you to make sure that Samoan girl goes away, permanently.”
Sal’s eyes squinted as if a bright light were shinning. Bonni’s tone and disrespectful mannerisms annoyed him. He nodded slightly and raised his glass to her. “It’s done.”
To the right of their booth, a waiter with his back towards them was tossing a large Caesar salad. He heard much of Sal and Bonni’s conversation. It was nothing new for a mob guy like Venuti to brag about whacking guys. But saying this stuff to a Senator was a bit bizarre, even for him. He had valuable information, but wasn't sure what to do with it.
Their meals came. The Pennette con la buccia de limone was splendid. After dinner, Sal approached the master chief and congratulated him on a job well-done. He slipped him and the waiter each $100 bills.
Once the Senator finished her wine, Bonni met Sal at the kitchen door and the two were escorted back to her limo.
Secure in the limo, Sal told Bonni that he may need her help locating Kitiona in the City. She said. "Ellen, my district manager, has the connections to help you. But only use her if all your other options fail." Her buzz was gone from all the food she ate. She topped off her drink with more scotch. "I'll contact you in a few days. I expect you to eliminate our Motorhead problem."
Sal breathed deeply. He constantly weighted the benefits the Senator had to offer with the possibilities of going 'protection-bare'. Ignoring Bonni's arrogance was one thing. But, her disrespect for him was growing in his mind. Senator or not, respect was the cornerstone of all his relationships.
Sal blinked a three-second blink and came up smiling. "Senator, I'll use a husband and wife couple for tracking down Kitiona," he said. "They come highly recommended from L.A." he reassured her.
The limo stopped in front of Sal's, Little Nipples Club. "That's a disgusting name for a club," Bonni slurred her words. She sat up and arched her back. "Someday, if you're lucky, I'll show you mine and they aren't so little."
One of Sal's men opened the limo door. Sal simply said, "Good night, Senator."
The limo arrived at the airport 20 minutes later. The plane sat primed and ready for takeoff.
Several kids came running up to Bonni as she got out. Her sister-in-law had brought the whole family for a lift to D.C. on the Senator's plane. Bonni smiled the obligatory smile to Alice, Janie and little Rodney, Stephaney's three children. "Well, are you ready to go?" she said.
Stephaney was all smiles. She gathered the children and told them to behave.
They all boarded the plane. Eric escorted Stephaney and the kids to their seats in the front of the main cabin. Little Rodney took out his coloring book. The two other children grabbed for their game-boys.
Bonni excused herself and met Eric in the rear cabin office. She locked the door behind her. Eric poured her a scotch and water tall over ice in the German beer mug she had brought back from Berlin last year. The Senator picked up the drink and sat down on the oversize couch and patted the cushion next to hers. Eric was ready.
While Bonni and Sal were eating, Eric decided to stretch his legs. As he walked up and down the alley, he met a petit waitress from the strip club next to the Iron Kettle. Kelly was on a smoke break when Eric smiled her way. He walked over to her. He spied her long legs accented by black nylons and three-inch black, high heels.
While they made small talk, he couldn't help but notice how Kelly's Playboy body filled her thigh-length silky, cover-up. Her long blonde, wavy hair fell on her shoulders. Talking about nothing, Eric's mind recorded every detail of Kelly’s beautiful face and body. He reminisced about Anna, his former squeeze; when making love was fun and natural.
Bonni slipped off her, open-toed heels and stroked her nylon covered legs together. Raising her dress she said, "Those board meetings are so boring. How about making me forget I was ever there?"
Eric obliged by rubbing the inside of her thighs. Then he started to unbutton her blouse. "Do you like my nipples," she said thinking of the name of Sal's club.
"Ah, yea," he said massaging them hard. He knew the Senator was wasted and fairly numb.
He thought back to Kelly in the alley. From then on, Eric was on top, under and along side of Kelly for a good 45 minutes.
