Read Online Killer Show: The Station Nightclub Fire by John Barylick - Free Book Online

interested in purchasing the club.”
    The Machados were serious about their bid for financial independence, so they took out a home equity loan to finance their deposit. Once they handed over the $20,000, the sellers showed them a handwritten book listing daily cash receipts for the club — nothing about profit or loss. On November 24, Armando Machado signed a purchase-and-sale agreement for “The Station Rock Club.” Only thereafter did he learn of one small problem: the Derderians didn’t own the building.
    When Armando Machado checked with the West Warwick Town Hall he learned that the building at 211 Cowesett Avenue belonged to Triton Realty, Ray Villanova’s company. Machado arranged to meet with Villanova (himself unaware that the Derderians were trying to sell the club), who told him that the brothers were locked into a five-year lease, and Villanova wouldn’t let them assign it to the Machados without the Derderians’ remaining on the hook for its final two years.
    When Machado told Mike Derderian that he’d spoken with Villanova, Derderian became incensed, fuming, “I wish you hadn’t done that!” With the deal dead, Machado pleaded for his $20,000 deposit back, because “theycouldn’t sell something they had no right to sell,” and because “the business was worth nothing without the real estate.” The Derderians told Machado that the deposit was nonrefundable, but they would return it “when they got another buyer.”
    If Machado thought himself ill-used, he would thank his lucky stars only a short time later.
    The Derderians’ “other two buyers” were not exactly waiting in the wings, because the next person to show serious interest in the club didn’t call until January 27, 2003. He was Michael O’Connor. More sophisticated than Machado, O’Connor and a partner, Dan Gormley, arranged to meet with Michael Derderian at the club on January 28. The pair took the tour, checking out the stage area with its unusual egg-crate foam walls, the blacked-out atrium windows (“too dark for a lunch crowd,” thought O’Connor), and the polished horseshoe bar. They discussed the equipment that would be included in the sale — sound system, stage lighting, furniture.
    Mike Derderian explained to O’Connor how they’d book national acts “four or five times a year” but use “cover” bands Thursdays through Saturdays. He pointed to the rock-themed mural they’d commissioned from Anthony Baldino as a valuable property improvement. O’Connor was impressed at how positively Derderian spoke of his employees’ teamwork.
    Derderian also spoke of the club’s “very good” relationship with its residential neighbors. He told about giving them Jeff ’s cell phone number to call if things got too loud. They never discussed buying soundproofing materials from Barry Warner. Asked about permitted occupancy, the club owners told O’Connor they were “never really given an occupancy limit.”
    Five days later, buyers and sellers negotiated terms. Derderian asked for $195,000. O’Connor countered with 165. They settled on 190, but there remained issues of the lease assignment to work out. Nevertheless, they inked a “pre-purchase agreement” on February 7, and the buyers handed the Derderians a $19,000 deposit. The plan was for O’Connor to return on the twentieth, to see the club in operation when a national act — Great White — was appearing. Then they would close on the deal.

    Around 9 o’clock on the morning of February 20, Jack Russell and the band headed to Denny’s restaurant for breakfast. Russell hardly had time to order the Grand Slam Breakfast when a tradesman in dusty work boots approached from a nearby table. “You guys have got to be a rock band,” declared Richard “Rick” Sanetti. Sanetti had been working with a crew installing flooring at theHampton Inn then under construction in nearby Coventry, Rhode Island. That same crew was now working on some serious breakfast at