My Honorable Brother Page 4

  Fiore had no idea whom Sandy had in mind. “Who?” he asked.

  “The Governor of Rhode Island.”

  It wasn’t registering. Doug felt like a deer caught in the headlights. He looked blankly at Sandy for several seconds before speaking.

  “I don’t get it. What have I got to do with John Sacco, or vice versa? I always thought he was against gambling. Wouldn’t he veto any casino bill that passed?”

  Tarantino answered immediately, as if he and Doug were reading from the same script. “A year ago I would have said you were right. Sacco used to say he didn’t want to depend on any gambling revenue to pay the State’s bills. But he hasn’t done a thing to keep slots shops from opening up and he hasn’t said a fucking word to discourage the casino bills from going forward in the House and Senate.” Sandy slammed his hand down on the table when he swore. “He’s either getting something out of it himself or he changed his mind about gambling. That’s been the bad news for us. But the good news is on the way. As soon as Spence Hardiman announces that he’s tired of Washington politics and doesn’t want to go back for another term in the Senate, Sacco will be a candidate for that job. Maybe the only one on the Republican side, maybe not. So we’re going to get him out of the Statehouse, whether he wins Hardiman’s seat or not. Rhode Island will elect a new governor.”

  “That’s one giant ‘if’ of a scenario,” Fiore replied, “but even if you were right about it … .”

  Tarantino cut him off. “We think you’re the best man for that job.”

  Fiore was stunned. He looked at his friend, certain of the big grin he’d see momentarily, followed by the boisterous laugh and the words, “Just kidding, just kidding, don’t have a goddam heart attack for Christ sakes.” But none of it happened, and as the seconds passed he realized that Sandy was serious.

  “Come on,” he said, still unbelieving, “you want me to run for governor?”

  “You sure are a quick study.” Sandy smiled. “I make the motion and the Tarantino family seconds it.”

  Fiore shook his head back and forth several times, almost involuntarily. “But I’ve never held a political office,” he reasoned. “I haven’t run for anything in my life, including dog catcher. No one knows who the hell I am. I’d get a hundred votes from Federal Hill and fifty more from my family.”

  “You’re wrong, good buddy.” Sandy sat down again. He forgot about his back problems and leaned forward toward Doug. “In today’s world, the fact that you’ve never been in politics is a great big plus. The public hates those guys, especially the ones who want to hang on forever. One of your biggest selling points will be that you’re coming forward out of a sense of duty, just like the good old ‘Founding Fathers’ wanted. On top of that you pledge to serve no more than two terms in the governor’s chair under any circumstances.

  “The people will love it, just wait and see. You don’t have any name recognition today, but by the time you become a candidate next year, we’ll have a campaign ready to roll and the money to drive it. I’ve already discussed it with this super guy I want to bring in to put the entire thing together. I mean he’s someone who’s been through it all before, the whole pressure cooker, from beginning to end. He goes all the way back to Reagan’s campaign for governor of California. He helped put him in the White House twice and was co-director for Bush’s election in ’88. He’s the one they credit for getting Bill Weld elected governor in Massachusetts. And let me tell you, Weld never ran for anything before that and was the longest shot on the board going into the primaries. It can be done, Doug. It just takes a good candidate, a manager who knows what the fuck he’s doing, lots of money and a ton of work.”

  Fiore was still overwhelmed. “Who else do you expect to run for governor if Sacco doesn’t?” he asked.

  “There’s no ‘if’ with Sacco, Doug, or with Hardiman either. Trust me on that. Your competition in the primary will probably come from Richie Cardella. Two good Italian boys fighting it out. Then we don’t have to worry about the voters being prejudiced, right?”

  Tarantino laughed, and kept talking. “Cardella won’t be any pushover. He had four years as Attorney General after he gave up his seat in the House. Richie won a couple of big cases as AG that got plenty of coverage all over the State. Remember the serial killer who swore that Jesus kept telling him in his dreams to strangle those women? Richie put him away for life. Neighborhood crime will be a big issue in the election. To tell you the truth, if we thought he’d be against legalizing casino gambling, we’d have no problem with him.” Sandy paused. “But he’s not … and we do … in spades.”

  “How do you know his position?” Fiore asked.

  “Because we’ve checked carefully, carefully and quietly. He voted for the lottery when he served in the House. He also made a few speeches about gambling being a necessary source of income for the State, that it was better than trying to raise taxes every year. We also found out that his law firm was retained as a consultant by several Senators to draft a revised casino gambling bill they plan to introduce at some time. No doubt about it, he’s in deep on the other side.”

  Fiore no longer looked as if he was listening to a story he couldn’t understand. The shock of hearing himself referred to as the next governor had finally passed. He realized that he was already beginning to like the idea. He’d been up against Cardella in some cases over the years. They were corporate matters, not criminal, but he didn’t think the former Attorney General was any great shakes as a lawyer.

  “What Democrats do you see in the race?” he asked.

  “Only one,” Sandy said. “Bruce Singer’s got it all to himself. The Party has to go with him, even if he blew his race in the primary two years ago. Singer was lieutenant governor for two terms when Frank Lindgren was in the governor’s chair, and he made a lot of friends. Ed McGurty never expected to beat Singer in that primary. He was in it just to get a lot of publicity for his Mercedes dealership at the expense of his contributors. It probably shocked the shit out of him to win it.

  “And Singer learned that you can’t lay down on the campaign just because everyone tells you your opponent is an asshole. You don’t put in the time on the stump, you suffer the consequences. But Sacco murdered McGurty in the general election. That’s why the Democrats feel they don’t owe him anything next time around, and they know Singer’s a much better candidate. I doubt he’ll have anyone running against him in the primary. That means he won’t have any mud getting thrown at him until he’s up against you, if you knock off Cardella. That’s too bad, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Tarantino was up again, moving around. He stopped to pour more wine into both cups and returned the bottle to the refrigerator. He retrieved his cup from the table and continued walking. “What do you think, old buddy?” he asked, standing near the panel that opened earlier to let him into the room. His tone of voice indicated that he wanted a quick “Yes” from his former roommate.

  “Christ, Sandy, I don’t know what to say. I’m not going to tell you it turns me off. In fact, it sounds real good. It’s flattering as hell and I’d probably love the job if I could get elected.” Fiore pictured himself sitting at the desk in the large corner office of the Statehouse. “One thing I know is that four years in the governor’s office wouldn’t hurt when I got back to the firm. I’m sure a lot of good business would follow me there. But first I’ve got to talk to my wife and a few of my partners. It’s a big decision and I need their input on it. How soon do you need an answer?”

  Sandy hesitated a few moments. “Before I respond to that, I want to tell you something else. There’s nothing that says you’d have to get out of politics if you did serve two terms in the Statehouse. That pledge I mentioned was limited to running for governor. And it sounds like you forgot that Rhode Island’s joining the rest of the country and making governor a four-year term instead of two. So it could work out to be eight years for you if you wanted it. The point I’m making is that four years from now Jim
Hanover’s third term in the Senate will be up and he’ll be sixty-seven years old. He’s already had a couple of heart attacks. Chances of his wanting another six years or the people sending him back to Washington are getting more remote all the time. It’s just a thought, Doug, but maybe you wouldn’t be happy in that national spotlight anyway.” Sandy winked at his good friend as he finished the sentence.

  “As far as letting us know if you want to go for it, do you still remember that conversation we had nineteen years ago in Doctor Feeney’s office at Mount Hope Hospital?” Fiore remembered it well. It was the first phone call he ever received from Joe Gaudette who told him that Sandy wanted to see him. Doug was in his third full year as an associate at Walters, Cassidy & Breen. He and Grace were married for six months at the time. Gaudette explained that he scheduled Doug for a routine physical by an internist named John Feeney at Mount Hope Hospital, and that Tarantino would see him there. On the day of the appointment, while Fiore waited for the doctor in the examining room, half undressed and wondering whether he’d actually be seen by Feeney, Sandy came in. He took only a minute to ask Doug about his personal life before starting to explain how the Family, under Sal Tarantino, was moving out of most of the illegal activities Anthony Buscatelli had favored, including drugs and prostitution.

  “This is my contribution, with my father’s consent. We’re turning our attention to investments in legitimate local businesses that need a financial boost.” But the problem, he said, was that those companies were afraid of seeing their names dragged into the newspaper every time the Herald did a story on the Tarantino family and how it made its money.

  “It’s a public relations problem, Doug,” he recalled Sandy telling him. “The point we try to make with these outfits is that my father is taking the Family in an entirely different direction, away from the things it’s always been associated with. In time we’ll be pretty much like any other venture capital company looking for businesses that have a good product or service and need money. I do a good selling job with them one-on-one and there’s a list of companies that are definitely interested. But one of the things we’ve got to avoid like the plague during the transition is being embarrassed by the police in the media.”

  That’s when Fiore learned that Joe Gaudette was a captain in the State Police and was an old trusted friend of Sal Tarantino’s. “Gaudette’s desk job lets him find out when the police plan to bust into one of the Family’s private gambling clubs,” Sandy explained. “But he usually doesn’t get that information until just before they’re planning the raid. At that point he can’t risk making phone calls to the pols we’re friendly with on the Hill.” Then Sandy informed him that the Teamsters Union had just organized everyone in the State Police under the rank of lieutenant.

  “That gives us a new way to handle the situation,” Sandy said. “You’ll be receiving a call from Superintendent Halliday asking your firm to represent management in negotiating the labor agreement with the Union. Your firm will report to Gaudette. Once the negotiations get started, Joe will be able to speak to you any time he wants, probably after he’s checked in with the labor lawyer you’ll have handling the case. There’ll be some code words for any message he wants you to get through to us right away. You’ll be completely in the dark about what’s going on because you won’t know the code. But when the cops show up at our club that night, hopefully all they’ll find will be a crowd of people having a good time over dinner. No gambling, no laws broken, no story for the papers or TV. That’s what I need from you, Doug. Aside from Joe, you’re the only other person outside the Family that we can trust a hundred percent.”

  The quid pro quo, Sandy told him, would demonstrate the Family’s appreciation. “We’ll see you get all the legal work for the companies we invest in.” To show what that involved, he proceeded to preview two of the construction firms with which the Tarantinos were ready to close investment deals. He made sure Doug understood that the amount of legal work and billable hours that would come from representing them was huge.

  Fiore recalled that even at that early stage of his career he didn’t want to be just another lawyer at Walters, Cassidy & Breen. He looked forward to being able to move into a power position when his time came; to lead, not follow. He remembered the words his father drummed into him when he was in high school and Anthony Fiore was already concerned about his son being admitted to an Ivy League college: “Good grades will get you where you want to go,” he said, “and then, after college, wherever you are, you want to fight to become king of the hill, to get as much power as you can and to fight like hell to stay there.”

  Years later the talk was very much the same whenever he was home on break from Columbia. “Work your ass off,” his father told him. “These three years can make you or break you. Do whatever it takes to get to the top of your class so the big firms—the ones that pay big money—will want to hire you. Get close to the lawyers who have the power. Do favors for the right people and never—I mean never—talk out against the ones who run the firm. They can help you if some bastard there tries to walk all over you. At some point they’ll be looking for friendly faces to replace them when they step down. You want to be one of those people because power in the firm will come with it. Power is the magic word, Doug. And when you have it, don’t be afraid to use it. The lawyers in your firm can do what you say either because they love you or because they’re scared shitless of you. Either way, you’re on top and you do what you have to do to stay there.”

  Although Fiore had little respect for his father because of his temper, surly disposition and heavy-handed discipline, he understood that the words were coming from his heart and were intended to make Doug’s life easier and more rewarding. He knew that his father, a lathe operator at the same tool-making plant for over twenty-five years, made all the mistakes he was warning his son against: bad-mouthing a series of job stewards in his desire to be appointed to the position himself, and then, while serving on the negotiating committee for a new contract, trying to persuade other members of the committee to reject the deal that the union representative strongly recommended. From that point on, it was made clear to him that he would never serve on the negotiating committee again and would not be considered to fill a job steward opening. Anthony Fiore realized then that if he ever had a reason to file a grievance against his employer, especially if he was suspended or discharged for some alleged misconduct, he would not be able to count on strong support from his union. He knew that all that was left for him to do at the plant was run his lathe and shut his mouth.

  Doug wanted to be part of the inner circle that made the important decisions for the firm and eventually become “numero uno” among his peers. It was something he thought about often, although he wanted to achieve his goal through respect, not fear. In a quiet way, he tried to find out all he could about the other associates at the firm so as to determine which of them would make valuable allies for him in the years ahead.

  Fiore realized, as he listened to Sandy in Dr. Feeney’s examining room, that he was being presented with an opportunity on a silver platter to achieve his goal. It didn’t take a genius to see that the business he received from the Tarantinos would make him stand out from other associates and give him a power base. It would probably be the best chance he’d ever get. There didn’t seem to be much risk, as Sandy said, but he couldn’t kid himself about whether it was legal or ethical. If it was ever discovered that he helped the Tarantinos avoid a raid on an illegal activity or outsmart the police in some other way, his license to practice law would be suspended, at the very least. He might even be disbarred. This was a career decision—he had to face that fact—one that could make him or possibly destroy him.

  “It’s a good deal for you, Doug. Don’t pass it up.”

  He wouldn’t. He decided it was worth the risk. “I’m your man,” he told Sandy.

  * * *

  The knock at the door came just as Fiore recollected the commitment he made to Sandy Taranti
no in Dr. Feeney’s office that day.

  “Who is it?” Sandy asked.

  “It’s Johnny.”

  “Let him in, Doug. The door’s locked.”

  Fiore opened the door and a man who looked to be about retirement age came in. He wore a black suit, the standard uniform for someone in the undertaking business.

  “Sir, Mr. Milano wanted you to know that the wake is over and everyone has gone.”

  “Thank you, Johnny. Tell Mr. Milano that my meeting should end in about ten minutes and that I’ll knock on the panel when I’m ready to leave.”

  “Yes, sir, good seeing you again.”

  “Thank you, Johnny. You take care of yourself.”

  Fiore locked the door after him and returned to the table. “Yes,” he said, “I remember that meeting in Feeney’s office like it was yesterday. Pretty much word for word.”

  “Good,” Tarantino said right away. “Then I’m sure you haven’t forgotten how I made you act on your gut instead of going home and thinking about it.”

  “I remember, but …”

  “And you’ve never regretted that decision, have you?”

  “No, I never have. You and your father have been awfully good to me. The companies you invested in and sent to my firm have been great clients. I’ve had higher billings than anyone else for the last seven or eight years.”

  “And where do you think you’d be today if you said ‘No’ to me that morning?”

  “Who knows? I think I would have made partner after eight years but there was always the chance they could have told me to find another home.”

  “Listen, Doug, if you weren’t the managing partner of a hundred-lawyer law firm that’s pretty close to being number one in the State, you wouldn’t be such an attractive candidate. But you are, and we need you, even more than we needed you back then. This decision could do at least as much for your career as that one. If you’re elected governor, that could pave the way for you to go to Washington later on as Rhode Island’s junior senator. And once you’re there, who knows what might happen after that?”