Read Online The Old Turk's Load by Gregory Gibson - Free Book Online Page B

had a plan, simple and direct. He’d pitch Roth’s scheme about going into partnership with DiNoto. Murchison and Kraft, of course, would rubber-stamp it. Then the three would call Roth in and tell him to start the negotiations. Murchison would go back to bed, Kraft would go back to the links, and while Roth bounded off like a golden retriever—or as much like a golden retriever as a Jewish thug could be—Mundi would off-load the drugs to a guy he’d already lined up, grab some cash in return, and hop on a plane. He’d work the deal so fast, it’d make their heads spin. And if Julie or Jimmy or Harlan got caught in the blowback, tough shit. Maybe it’d wake them up.
    After the usual preliminaries about Jimmy’s grandchildren and Harlan’s short game, Mundi got around to explaining how they’d happened to come into some valuable contraband and that soon the owners would be applying for its return.
“So give it back,” coughed Murchison.
    Mundi allowed as how that sounded like the sensible thing to do, except there were complications. As they all knew, the corporation was belly-up. Cash flow was zip because there were no new jobs, no acquisitions. They were consuming themselves in leases, fees, taxes, financing costs. Not to mention salaries.
    Kraft wiggled in his seat. “Come off it, Richie. We all oughta be on Social and you know it. We’ve had a good dance for thirty years, made our money. But now this thing is dead meat around our necks. We’re too old for this shit.”
“The hell you say.”
    “Harlan’s right, Rich. Look at that last deal. A couple more like it and we’ll be in the poorhouse.”
That was the Weehawken Mills project. Mundi Enterprises had gone into partnership with a developer who planned to turn a half-mile of Newark mill buildings into apartments. They’d raised their share by refinancing their Long Island properties. In the end they were undercapitalized. Real estate took a dip, rates went up, the banks came calling, and they lost the project to the marketing company. Assholes in BMWs with cashmere sweaters tied around their necks. It had been Mundi’s play, for the most part, and it had cost him and his partners a lot.
66 GREGORY GIBSON
    There was little else to say about the episode. Kraft said it for him, as gently as he could. “Times are different now, Richie. Let’s cash in our chips.”
“Everything is leveraged up to the gills. We’d take a bath.”
    “So what are we going to do, live off this missing dope of yours? It is dope, isn’t it?”
“It’s heroin. It’d get us millions on the street right now.” He waited for the number to take effect, to head their thoughts in the right direction. “But we’re not gonna sell it ourselves. We’ll use it as earnest money. Roth has a scheme worked out where he thinks we could turn this contraband into a more or less permanent arrangement. The original owners have a lot of free cash they’re looking to place. Roth thinks they could be persuaded to see Mundi Enterprises as a gold mine of unrealized write-offs, bad debts, depreciations, and similar accounting bullshit. All we need is to pitch it the right way to the right people. We return the merchandise we’ve been safeguarding for them and they buy an interest in our construction operation, with periodic payments for maintenance, depreciation, whatever.We provide them with a legitimate business with a real track record and they boost our cash flow in return. After a few years we’ve paid our nut down and property values go back up. By then the government will be sending millions in grants to prop Newark back on its feet. Urban renewal in the worst of the slums.You know what that means?”
No response.
“It means we’ll be selling Newark to the Feds! Isn’t it sweet? That’s when we clear out, Jimmy.”
The color rose in Murchison’s cheeks, but it didn’t make him look much better. “Launder money for the fucking Mafia? Rich, have you lost your