by Patricia Bellomo | Apr 12, 2011 | Mob Blog
The New Mob, April 15, 2011
A few months back my buddy, Leo, is getting out of bed on a Monday morning, and the cops break down his door. They came in like storm troopers, a whole friggin swat team with drug sniffing dogs and automatic rifles. Supposedly, they’re looking for drugs–they got a tip from some loser snitch trying to get brownie points. But my buddy is a sixty-six year old book with a wife and two daughters, both of whom they hold at gunpoint while they haul him off to jail.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]The cops are from a neighboring city, but they’re a special task force empowered by the Feds, and they can go anywhere in the state of Michigan. It sounds to me like the FBI is outsourcing their dirty work, and dirty work it is. The team spends twelve hours in Leo’s house. They order a series of pizzas and carry-outs, drink a case of Budweiser, and destroy his house. It’s unlivable when they’re done, and Leo has to bring in a contractor to repair the holes in the walls and ceilings. And what do the cops get for this? Two unregistered firearms and three joints.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]They’ll get him on the firearms, and he knows it. They busted him on a Monday during Football season–payday, if you’re in this business, and Leo had ninety-eight grand in the house. When his lawyer gets the roster on items seized during the raid, they’re showing ten thousand dollars in cash. How’s that for good police work? Sounds to me like there is a new mob in town.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | Apr 12, 2011 | Mob Blog
Buddy Shuler’s Chick, April 12, 2011
[dcs_p]I met Buddy Shuler when he was a young sportscaster in New Orleans. I use to see him at the Saint’s games, and on occasion I’d invite him into my skybox at the Dome. A lot has changed since then, and Buddy and I are both living in south Florida. He’s broadcasting his conservative talk-radio show from a station in Lauderdale and every now and then we’ll play a game of golf or get together for lunch. The last few times I’ve run into him, Buddy’s been bragging about this hot, new chick he’s got. He’s telling me he’s in love and that, despite the fact that he’s worth ten-million, his girl loves him for who he is.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_]I let him talk. What do I care if a guy makes a fool of himself? But Victor calls him on it. “Come on, Buddy,” he says, “you’re telling me this gorgeous broad would still be climbing into bed with you if you were poor?”[dcs_p]
[dcs_p]”That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he says. “Rachel’s a sweet girl, a real angel.”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Yeah, right. A couple weeks later I invite Buddy for an outing on the Stella, and he shows up with his chick. She’s gorgeous all right, but she’s no angel. I know this girl. She’s a raven-haired looker who happens to be good friends with my girl, Kylie. Every now and then Kylie kinks it up by inviting Rachel over. So Buddy asks me what I think of his lady. “Isn’t she great?”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Victor’s busting his seams, trying not to laugh. I tell Buddy she’s beautiful. What am I supposed to do, tell him Rachel gives the best you know what in Palm Beach County? No way, not me. Let Buddy figure it out on his own.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | Apr 3, 2011 | Mob Blog
Golfcart Gestapo, April 3, 2011
[dcs_p]Angie had a run-in with the Golfcart Gestapo yesterday. Delray Beach has a peculiar volunteer “civilian” police force relegated to the enforcement of parking violations. Basically, they’re meter-maids on steroids. Not a very nice bunch to represent the town, particularly since they have a reputation of being overzealous and over silly. These guys are all white and all old, a gray-haired gestapo patrolling parking lots and side streets. Ask yourself what kind of jackass volunteers to ride around in a golfcart and ticket old ladies whose handicapped stickers have fallen off their dashboards, and you’ve got an idea of the mentality we’re dealing with here.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Yesterday, Angie took her mother and eighty-four year old aunt to meet a bunch of ladies for breakfast at Poppies on Linton Boulevard. One of the crusty old gents was on patrol, idling his golfcart as he watched the trio alight from her SUV. Mind you, Angie parked in a handicapped spot with her Aunt Tia’s permit placed on her dashboard. The old lady shuffled to the door of the restaurant on her walker–a ten minute task.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]When Angie came out an hour later, there was a $200.00 ticket tucked beneath her wiper-blades. The citation was issued because one digit in the permit’s expiration date was not visible. This, after watching the old lady hobble in. Because Aunt Tia was all worn out from her outing, Angie took her home and then drove to the station on Atlantic Avenue and showed them the ticket and valid permit.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Not good enough for the Gestapo. The permit holder has to appear in person. Angie called me in frustration and I sent our son, Tony, to take Aunt Tia to the police station. He said they examined Tia’s ID and permit like an evidence team from Quantico while she was hanging on her walker and wheezing. Tony was good-natured about it, but Angie was still fuming at dinner.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | Mar 31, 2011 | Mob Blog
Traottoria Romana, March 31, 2011
Victor’s Birthday. Took the family to Traottoria Romana to celebrate. This Boca restaurant is one of my favorites. Every time I come in the bar-manager, Allen, and his lovely assistant, Lorraine, greet me like I’m family. Allen knows his stuff–he has to, Traottoria Romana has one of the best wine-cellars in town. Allen remembers what I like, and sure enough, as soon as we’re seated, he had the Antinori sent over.
One of the best things about Traottoria Romana (beside the food, which is excellent), is the fact that it’s all locals–no sunburned tourists in flip-flops and beach shirts getting sticker shock here. It’s a classy place, with a bricked-barreled strip on the bar ceiling providing the feel of a genuine Tuscan cellar. They put us in the back room and kept it private. Angie and Stella had baked a cake for Victor, and when the waiter carried it in, he got all misty-eyed. Victor is such a sentimental guy it’s easy to underestimate him. Not that I ever would. He works for me, remember.
by Patricia Bellomo | Mar 30, 2011 | Mob Blog
Louie Morelli’s Daughter
Announcing the release of Louie Morelli’s Daughter. This is a fast-paced thriller set in glitzy Palm Beach County with a (surprise) Detroit/Macomb County connection. Louie Morelli’s Daughter tells the tale of a beautiful young woman who is abducted, and of how her rich and powerful father sets out to avenge her honor. This is the second book in my Louie Morelli series. The first of these, Stella di Mare, was released in 2010.
Available at Amazon.com
Direct order from distributor at: www.louiemorellisdaughter.com / 1-800-537-6727
by Patricia Bellomo | Mar 23, 2011 | Mob Blog
South Beach Pimp.
South Beach Pimp, March 25, 2011
Trash has been hanging around Franco’s. Franco doesn’t mind the working girls, but lately their pimps have been coming in to check on them. He throws them out, but Franco’s is where the action is, and the girls come back. Their pimps stay away, except for one piece of work named Lionel.
Lionel deals dope and skanky girls. Franco doesn’t even want his girls in the joint, and he gives instructions to security, but Lionel takes personal offense and tells Franco he’s going to “shoot up the joint”. Franco calls me and I send Victor down to Miami to set things straight, and now Lionel’s girls are showing up at the nightclub again. But guess what? No Lionel. I did say Victor was good, didn’t I?[/dcs_p][dcs_p]
This blog was written in the voice of Bellomo’s main character, mobster Louie Morelli. If you enjoyed this anecdote, please check out her Miami Beach thriller, Stella di Mare.
[/dcs_p]Books available on Amazon.com[/dcs_p]
