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Lunch With Luca

He called me. Right out of the blue, The Godfather’s number one button man called me, Jimmy C. He asked me to meet him at The Blue Scallion for lunch. I had done a couple of small things for him or with him over the years. No real scary stuff, mostly showing muscle, that sort of thing. The old man gave him a pocketful of money when he needed help so I was glad to hear from Luca Brazzi, I was practically spending the extra money when I hung up the phone.

We hadn’t even gotten through the soup when I saw the money slipping away. The Don needed a big favor from some big-wig movie maker in Hollywood. The guy said “no” so Corleone sent his Consiglieri to see the guy, let him know how things laid out if he didn’t pay the Godfather the proper respect. Then the guy said “Hell No.”

All Tom Hagan, the Consiglieri, told Luca was to make sure the man knew the terrible consequences of saying “no” to the Don. He gave Luca the man’s name and address, told him the guy lived in a big mansion, had big, big bucks tied up in thoroughbred horses; for one horse alone, Khartoum, the guy had paid over 600 large.

My feet were getting colder with the serving of each course of steaming, spicy Italian food. Luca laid out the plan.

“We fly out to L.A., get a cab to the guy’s house. We should get there about ten at night. We kill the pricey horse, put it in the guy’s bed, we get the hell out of there, back home on the first plane out. What do you think?”

I said “I don’t like the flying part. I hate to fly. To get from New York to Hollywood you probably have to take three or four hops. I also hate to fly at night. I’m scared shitless about flying if you want the truth. You got no control, the thing goes into a spin, you’re dead. We can take a train. The Don wants this done quick or what? He couldn’t wait a week or so for the message to be delivered?”

“I’m flyin’. You in or out?” the big ugly guy asked me.

“How much?”

“Five hundred.” he said.

I said “I’m still thinkin about it. How you gonna get the dead horse into the house, to the guy’s bedroom? What if the guy comes at us with a gun? What’d Hagan say about killin’ the guy? Horses are big, really big. Maybe kill the horse wherever they keep it, cut off an ear or the tail or something, it’s the same message without the hassle.”

“No, he’s got to know it’s the big bucks horse. The head — we cut off the head, put it in bed with the guy - real quiet, sneak out. We got to be quiet, Hagan said not to kill the guy.” Luca said.

“So, the plan is to kill the horse without waking anybody up, cut off the whole head, lug it all the way to the guy’s upstairs master bedroom, slip it under the sheets, without the guy knowing, make a getaway.”

“That’s the plan. You in or out?” Luca asked.

“No disrespect to you or the Don but I respectfully have to pass on this one. Much as I need the money, the flying scares me and it sounds like too damn many things could go wrong. I’d be beholden to you if you wouldn’t mention any of this to Mr. Corleone, that you asked me, that I passed, that we even talked about it. And Luca, I’ll get the check.”

I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I paid the check, gave the little hug, almost ran out the door. Maybe I lost a little leverage with The Family that day but hell, only in the movies could you pull that off. Hell, in the movies the guy would sleep right through the whole ruckus, they’d have horse blood all over the guy’s silk pajamas for Christ sake.

You took me back 37 years. I remember sitting in the theater and wondering that very same thing...