by Patricia Bellomo | Jul 8, 2011 | Mob Blog
Murderers Go Free, Bookies Go to Jail, July 8, 2011
I have buddies sitting in Federal prison for bookmaking, and this bimbo in Orlando walks free. The media did a hack job on this one … and what’s with the judge for allowing cameras in the courtroom? After OJ he should have known better. You take twelve people, flash lights in their faces, add a slick talking defensive with hyped up theories and a prosecution on overkill, and you get “no guilty” for a bimbo who spent five weeks clubbing while her little girl was decomposing in her trunk. OJ’s jury had an agenda … race. This jury is just plain dumb.
by Patricia Bellomo | Jul 6, 2011 | Mob Blog
Delray Daze, Delray Beach, July 5, 2011
[dcs_p]Big festival this weekend, and we had a houseful. Angie’s sisters came in from Tampa with their families, and every room in the house was filled. Fireworks Monday night over the beach — awesome. Because of last year’s oil spill in the gulf there wasn’t a barge available and the show almost didn’t happen. The city was about forty grand short, and everybody in the business community chipped in, including me. But what a turnout. Our little seaside village of Delray Beach was packed. Victor did ribs and chicken and grilled mahi-mahi and barbecued shrimp, and we ate and drank like kings. Everybody was happy, even Stella.
by Patricia Bellomo | Jun 29, 2011 | Mob Blog
Party on the Stella di Mare, June 29, 2011
[dcs_p]Anthony and his family flew in yesterday, getting geared up for the big holiday weekend. In case you’ve forgotten, Anthony is my cousin. The Feds have an idea he’s running what’s left of the New Orleans mob, and they like to tail him. But it looks like they might have their own families to attend to, because we’re not seeing any familiar faces hanging about. Of course, it was family night last night–I took everybody to Trattoria Romana in Boca. We had the private room in back, so if the Feds were on the job, they weren’t seeing much.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Today it’s a boy’s day–no wives allowed. Victor’s setting up a party on the Stella, and we’re cruising down to Miami. My girl’s bringing along a friend for Anthony, and Buddy Shuler and his wild chick, Rachel–the one he things is an angel–are expected. Nathan’s invited, of course. We’ll pick him up in Miami and probably hang at Franco’s this evening, and there will be plenty of takers, but Nathan won’t play. He never gives in to temptation, and I really don’t know how he does it.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | Jun 28, 2011 | Mob Blog
The Collector, Detroit, June 28, 2011
[dcs_p]I ran into a guy I haven’t seen in years, and we started reminiscing about the old days. My buddy started as a collector, and he tells me about going downtown on Friday afternoons. This was in the seventies and eighties, when bookmaking was a lucrative business. My friend always wore an overcoat and boots, and he’d hit the black neighborhoods first. “Never had any trouble,” he says. “The main man was there … with his muscle, and he’d just hand it over. Always polite and respectful. A real businessman.”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p] He tells me about going into the upscale offices at the BUHL Building–one of Detroit’s toniest addresses. “A hundred dimes on a Friday, easy,” he says. “In fact, it was probably the low end.”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]The guy he was working for was under indictment–who wasn’t back then? Anyway, my buddy would stuff the money in his boots and the inside pockets of his overcoat. During peak season he’d be carrying two-hundred grand. One day he takes it to his boss’s house, and his boss is sitting there with a guy he’s been seeing all over town. “This man was in every bar and bowling alley and rib joint I went into,” he tells me. “I walk in with all this cash, start laying it out on the table. Turns out this man was a Fed. He never did any thing about it–never said a word–and I’m wondering if maybe he wasn’t on the take.”[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | Jun 24, 2011 | Mob Blog
Angie’s Birthday, Delray Beach, June 24, 2011
[dcs_p]Angie comes up from her beach walk with her sunhat in hand. Her face is flushed from exerting herself in the heat–the humidity is thick this morning– and her T-shirt is damp with perspiration. Angie knows I have an early meeting, and she’s surprised to see me waiting on the terrace. “Happy Birthday, baby,” I say.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]I wish I could say I remembered on my own, but I’d be lying. I pay a secretary for this, and she’s made damn sure I didn’t forget. Emily has ordered roses to be delivered sometime today, even though Angie’s favorite flower is the hibiscus, and there are dozens of red-hibiscus in pots on the terrace. I ask her: “Where do you want to go tonight?”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]I already know. Angie’s a homebody, and she doesn’t want to go to a restaurant. “The kids are meeting here,” she says. “Is Victor available?”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]She means is Victor available to cook, and I say yes, because Victor is always available. I give her two tickets to a tony spa in California–she can take her sister. “Oh Louie, it’s so sweet,” she says. “You spoil me.”[/dcs_p]
