Mojave Desert Sanctuary Read online

  Mojave Desert Sanctuary

  Gary J. George

  For Ginny

  You’re the one

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  CHAPTER 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  CHAPTER 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 1

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  March 23, 1961

  On a Friday afternoon, Kiko Yoshida was in the middle of her shift at the Serengeti Hotel in Las Vegas when one of the other Keno girls tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Kiko, supervisor wants to see you. He sent me to cover your section until you get back.”

  “He say what he wanted?”

  “Nope. Just told me to get you.”

  Puzzled, Kiko made her way across the casino floor.

  “Phil, you wanted to see me?”

  “Yeah. Mr. Mazzetti and Mr. Meyer want to talk to you. Take the restricted elevator up to the offices.”

  As she walked to the executive elevator, she thought about those two names. Everybody who worked at the casino knew that Mr. Mazzetti was Eduardo Mazzetti, casino manager and one-time associate of Al Capone. General Manager Melvin Meyer also had a history of problems with the law. She could think of no reason such powerful men even knew she existed. She was just one of hundreds of faceless, casino-floor employees, not even as far up the pecking order as the cocktail waitresses who threaded their way in skimpy costumes through the sea of gamblers, enduring crude remarks and casual groping in exchange for the occasional big tip.

  When she stepped out of the elevator, the receptionist took in her Keno-girl outfit and gave her a dismissive look.

  “Yes?”

  “Kiko Yoshida. I’m supposed to see Mr. Mazzetti and Mr. Meyer.”

  “Regarding?”

  “No idea. My supervisor sent me up.”

  “And you’re a Keno girl?”

  “That’s right.”

  The receptionist picked up the phone.

  “Alicia? There’s a Keno girl out here, Kiki something or other. Says she’s supposed to see Mr. Mazzetti and Mr. Meyer. Do you know anything about this?”

  Whatever the person on the other end of the phone said, the receptionist suddenly sat up straight.

  “Yes. Yes, certainly. I’ll send her right back.”

  She hung up the phone and favored Kiko with a bright smile.

  “Mr. Mazzetti and Mr. Meyer are expecting you, Miss Yoshida.”

  She rose very quickly and opened one of the frosted-glass double doors to the right of her desk.

  “Go right on back. Alicia will show you into Mr. Mazzetti’s office.”

  Kiko found it interesting that she was suddenly “Miss Yoshida.”

  Beyond the double doors was another receptionist, this one even blonder and taller than the first one. She gave Kiko a dazzling smile as she rose from her desk.

  “Right this way, Miss Yoshida.”

  She led Kiko to a door and opened it for her.

  “Mr. Mazzetti, Miss Yoshida to see you.”

  Kiko saw a man sitting behind a huge desk. His white sport coat and white tie contrasted sharply with his black shirt and the red carnation in his buttonhole. His carefully combed hair glistened with oil. He rose and extended his hand.

  “Hello, Miss Yoshida. I’m Eddie Mazzetti.”

  When she took his hand, he covered it with his other hand in a grip favored by politicians.

  “Yes sir. I know who you are. Everybody at the Serengeti does.”

  “I’d like you to meet Melvin Meyer. He’s our general manager.”

  Kiko realized she hadn’t seen the man standing off to the side in the conservative gray suit when she walked in because she had been focused on the notorious person in front of her.

  Melvin Meyer extended his hand as well.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Yoshida.”

  She heard the door open behind her, and Eddie Mazzetti spoke again.

  “And this is Herman Silverstein, our credit manager.”

  Kiko turned from Mr. Meyer to face Herman Silverstein. Silverstein was not physically imposing, but he had the chilling look of a snake eyeing a robin’s egg. When Kiko shook his hand, she had to resist the urge to wipe her palm on her uniform.

  “Sit down, Miss Yoshida. My associates and I want to talk to you about somethin’ important.”

  Kiko took the plush chair directly in front of the desk. Silverstein and Meyer took similar chairs on either side of her.

  “Miss Yoshida, is it okay if I call you Kiko?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Mazzetti.”

  “And call me Eddie, okay?”

  “All right.”

  Mazzetti opened the file in front of him.

  “I see you’ve been with us since the first of the year.”

  “Yes sir, that’s right.”

  “Eddie, Kiko. I’m Eddie to my friends.”

  “Yes, Eddie.”

  “I see nothin’ but good stuff here. Smart, catch on quick, show up on time, don’t call in sick. Other employees and the gamblers like you.”

  And I see here you been to college. Berkeley, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Kiko had no idea where this was heading, but she began to relax a little. This wasn’t about something she’d unknowingly done wrong.

  “You done good for the Serengeti. We appreciate it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, si-uh Eddie.”

  “But now my friends and I want you to do somethin’ else for us, somethin’ big. How’s that sound?”

  Kiko hesitated.

  “Well, I guess that depends on what it is. If it’s something reasonable, I’d be willing to do it.”

  Eddie Mazzetti smiled and spread his arms wide as he addressed Meyer and Silverstein.

  “What I tell ya, huh? This is one smart cookie. Wants to know if it’s reasonable. No wonder the supervisors say she catches on quick!”

  Meyer and Silverstein both smiled.

  “Kiko, I’ll get right to it.

  You have caught the eye of Mr. Pescatore, a very important man in the Serengeti organization.”

  Alarm bells went off in her head.

  “When you say ‘caught the eye’ ….”

  “I mean Mr. Pescatore seen you on the casino floor, thinks you’re really a looker. You know, a real doll.”

  “That’s very flattering, Eddie.”

  “So see, here’s the thing. Mr. Pescatore’s from the head office in Chicago. He’s here to represent the Serengeti at a meetin’ of very important people – owners, politicians and so forth. You know, all big shots.”

  “Yes?”

  “He wants you to go with him to this big meetin’. As his date. This is real important to him, so it’s important to us we do this for him, you know, set this up for him.”

  Kiko stood up.

  “Whoops! Oh, no. No. No way. You’ve got the wrong girl, Mr. Mazzetti. I don’t do that kind of thing.”

  “Please, sit down. And remember, it’s Eddie.

  Look, Kiko, you’re gettin’ this all wrong. All we want you to do, go to this fancy dinner with this man and the other big shots. Listen to some people make speeches. Mr. Pescatore wants to impress everybody there.

 
; Soon as he seen you, he come to me, had me pull your file. He was very impressed with your college background. I swear, these were his exact words, ‘I show up with this girl on my arm, they’re gonna drop dead jealous. And when they talk to her, they’re gonna know she’s smart. Not some empty head. She’s gonna make me look good’.”

  “No, Eddie. I don’t think I’m your girl. I’m sure you can find someone else. There are lots of girls working here who are prettier than I am and would love to do this.”

  “Look, Kiko, gonna buy you the most beautiful evening dress in Vegas. Yours to keep after the dinner. Gonna give you diamonds and pearls to wear – course, you’ll have to give those back after.”

  “That’s very generous, Eddie – and Mr. Meyer and Mr. Silverstein, but this is still not something I want to do.”

  “Okay, one more thing before you say ‘no’ for sure, Kiko. I seen in your file you come to Vegas to be a dancer. How’s that workin’ out?”

  Kiko was still nervous, but Eddie had her attention.

  “Not well. I thought maybe I could catch on in a lounge show somewhere. But no luck. No call for a little Japanese girl. I can’t even get an audition.”

  “We might have somethin’ for you.”

  “In the Moulin Rouge Revue? An Asian girl in with all those tall blondes? That woman from Paris who directs the show would have a heart attack!”

  Eddie knew he had found his hook.

  “Kiko, I’m lettin’ you in on a little secret here. The Flower Drum Song is comin’ to the Thunderbird in December.”

  Kiko was stunned.

  “The Broadway production?”

  “Some of the people, not all of them. They’re gonna hire some locals. Now, Melvin and Herman and me, we got contacts over the ‘Bird. We put in the word, you’re in the show. You interested?”

  Eddie’s smile lit up the room.

  “Certainly.”

  “Okay, you do this one favor; we get you in that show. And believe me, all you gotta do is be a arm piece. We get you the dress, the jewels. Beauty parlor here at the hotel does your hair and nails. People from the Rouge Revue do your makeup. I’m tellin’ ya, you’ll be the knockout of the dinner. Once the thing is over, back in the limo, straight back to the Serengeti, done for the night. And guaranteed a singin’ and dancin’ part in a big, Las Vegas show.”

  “It sounds interesting, Eddie, but …”

  Melvin Meyer spoke.

  “Miss Yoshida, we understand you are leery of big promises. Given your level of intellectual sophistication, that’s not surprising. We didn’t expect you to be naïve. So, we’ll sign a contract with you. If Mr. Mazzetti, Mr. Silverstein and I don’t get you into that show, the Serengeti will pay you two thousand dollars.”

  “One more sweetener,” added Eddie.

  “You get back tonight, move into the showgirl wing here at the Serengeti. Those are big, fancy rooms. Stay there, rent free, long as you work here.”

  The dress, the jewels, a room in the showgirl’s wing: none of those things would have persuaded her. But the Flower Drum Song! Kiko was almost twenty eight years old. If she was ever going to do anything as a singer and dancer, it had to be soon. She had come to Las Vegas hoping to land a spot in a lounge show as a stepping stone to something better. But the Flower Drum Song? A real Broadway show with some of the original cast? That would be a dream come true. She would never get another chance like this. She couldn’t turn it down.

  “All right, Eddie. I’ll do it.”

  “That’s our girl, Kiko! Check in with Alicia out front. She’ll take care a alla details. Time you get done at the beauty parlor, Mr. Meyer will have the contract we talked about.”

  Kiko got up and shook hands with everyone before leaving the room.

  When she was gone, Eddie let out a sigh.

  “Man, that’s one nervy little slant-eye. I was runnin’ outta stuff to offer. I was thinkin’ gold-plated chop sticks, maybe. You’d think her people won the war. Now we have to get her into that show or pay her two large?

  Jesus, why can’t Frankie Pescatore just get a regular hooker like everyone else Chicago sends out here?”

  “He has an eye for them gooks,” said Herman Silverstein, “and Frankie is from The Outfit. Frankie “The Whale” gets whatever he wants while he’s here.

  It’s a good thing they don’t send him very often. Regular guy should be back on the route next month.”

  “Little smart ass makes you almost wish Frankie’d knock her around a little,” said Eddie.

  “Well, once she voluntarily steps across the threshold of that room, I don’t care what he does with her, or to her, as long as he goes home happy,” said Meyer.

  “Are you really going to draw up a contract? I mean, I know that was the clincher, but she gets the dress and the jewels, might be enough.”

  “I certainly am going to draw it up,” said Meyer. “And we’re all going to sign it. This girl is no dummy. Believe me, you don’t want to hear from Frankie if she doesn’t show.

  That reminds me, Herman. I’m going to call Chicago and tell them to head for the safe phone. Get to an outside phone and call them at two o’clock. That’ll be four o’clock their time.

  Remind them Frankie’s leaving tonight with the skim.”

  “Yeah,” said Herman Silverstein, “this is the part I don’t like. Our end should be done when their guy walks out of the countin’ room with the skim. But they say it’s on us until Frankie puts the case in Sam Genovese’s hand.

  Usually, I don’t get too nervous, but I sweat every time they send Frankie. I don’t think he’s the most reliable guy. He likes to play the big shot. Claims nobody would dare to bother him. Takes the case to his room with him the night before his flight! That’s not only stupid, it leaves us hangin’ out.”

  “I don’t like it either,” said Eddie. “But you’d better never let “The Whale” hear you talk like that. He’s a made man, for Christ’s sake. Top of that, he’s related to Sammy Genovese’s wife, Delores, somehow. So whadya gonna do? The Outfit’s money, The Outfit’s rules.”

  “It is their rules,” said Melvin Meyer, “and if it doesn’t get to Sam, they’re going to accuse us of going off the record. If they do, we’d have no choice but to make it up from our end. We’d have to skim the money twice and keep it quiet. Unless we want Tommy Bones coming after us. Sammy Genovese may be the front man, but the guy who really runs the show is Thomaso.”

  “Jesus! Don’t even say that. I knew Capone, and he was a wild man, but Thomaso Cortese is scarier.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  March 23, 1961

  At 6:45, on a very cold and windy evening in Las Vegas, a driver in a black, Chrysler 300 picked up Kiko Yoshida outside her apartment and drove her to the Serengeti Hotel and Casino. At seven o’clock, she was standing outside the door to a suite in the high-roller, Serengeti-showgirl wing of the hotel. She was very nervous.

  She was wearing an elegant, strapless, black evening dress. She had on an exquisite diamond bracelet and diamond earrings. The tastefully expensive string of pearls around her neck contrasted beautifully with her dress. She had a small, gold lame purse over her shoulder. The dress, the jewelry and the purse had been provided to her by the management of the casino. Her hair had been styled in the hotel beauty salon, and her makeup had been done by the people who prepared the showgirls for their performances of the Moulin Rouge Revue.

  Kiko took several deep breaths to calm herself while she decided whether she was really willing to do what she had agreed to do. She was feeling uneasy. Common sense told her the evening could go badly in any number of ways. But then she thought about the signed contract back in her room, the one that promised her a role in the Flower Drum Song in December. Lord, she wanted a spot in that show! It could be the spark she had been hoping for.

  What was the worst thing that could happen? Some executive trying to grope her in the back seat of a limousine? She could handle that.r />
  She screwed up her courage and knocked on the door.

  There was no answer.

  She knocked again, louder.

  “Who is it?”

  “Kiko Yoshida. Mr. Mazzetti sent me.”

  She heard the rattle of the chain coming off the door, then two separate clicks.

  The door opened.

  She saw an enormous man in a bathrobe.

  The “hi” was already on her lips, and it popped out before she could stop it as a huge hand took her by the elbow and yanked her into the room.

  Before she could protest, the man slammed the door, locked both locks and slid the security chain back in place.

  “You don’t have to be so ….”

  “Shut-up!”

  The enormous man stood with his ear pressed against the door.

  “Sure you come alone?”

  “I think so.”

  “Didn’t see nobody followin’ you?”

  “I wasn’t looking.”

  “Did you tell anyone else you was comin’ here?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  “Whadya mean, ‘not exactly,” honey. You did or you didn’t.”

  “I told my roommates I had a date. I didn’t tell them where I was going.”

  “Anyone else know you’re here?”

  “Mr. Mazzetti, Mr. Meyer and Mr. Silverstein all know.”

  The big man seemed to relax.

  “That’s okay. They’re on the up.”

  “Excuse me, but shouldn’t you be dressed? Aren’t we going to be late?”

  “Honey, don’t have to get dressed to do what we’re gonna do. In fact, you got way too much clothes on.”

  Kiko’s brain went into high gear. This was what she had been afraid of. She decided to play dumb to buy some time.

  “But Mr. Mazzetti told me I was going to be your date for a fancy, executive dinner party.”

  Frankie laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. “Boy, that Eddie! Got a gift for the gab, don’t he? Fancy dinner, huh?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “There’s no dinner, doll. Just a appetizer, and you’re it.”