1911: Imogene’S Story

By R.A. Soames

In her eightieth year, Imogene knows her time is drawing near and finds herself wondering how different her life would have been if events had not occurred in the way that they did. If she had not had to endure horrendous acts of mental, physical, and emotional abuse, would she have aged a different woman? If fate had not stepped in and saved her when it did from that abuse, would she still be here today?

Imogene takes a journey through her memories back to the innocent days of Australia in the early twentieth century. She recalls the pleasures of young love that were, for her, only too soon shattered by betrayal of the worst kind. In the face of systematic abuse from her husband, Joseph, Imogene managed to find friendship in the most unlikely of companionsa lifelong friendship strengthened by shared pain and joy.

A survivor to the end, Imogene must overcome the demons of love, lust, abuse and betrayal in order to tell the terrible truths of harvest season on her beloved Marigold Farm and perhaps save others from a similar fate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Dec 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781452527048

R.A. Soames

R. A. Soames is a writer, gardener, multitasker extraordinaire, and mother to five children. She lives in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, where she divides her time between the tasks of a mother to young children and her passion of writing.

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Copyright © 2014 Victor Sparozic.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-1316-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-1314-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-1315-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014921897

Archway Publishing rev. date: 12/4/2014

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1

IT WAS JUST PAST 10:00 AM when I got to the social club on Fifth Avenue and Seventeenth Street. It was where we met and hung out; the club was private members only, and of course it was just a front. I got a cup of coffee and headed to the back room. Eddie, the guy who took care of the place, made a hell of a cup of coffee. I don’t know what he put in it, but this stuff could grow a new limb.

Dillinger and Duke were already there. Dillinger was a wise guy’s wise guy. The reason we called him Dillinger was because he was quick with the gun—not as in fast, but if someone pissed him off, that person’s chances of getting shot were very good. Duke was just plain crazy. I once saw him beat a guy with an umbrella stand because the guy had stepped on his foot and didn’t say he was sorry. We called him Duke because of the way he dressed: his imported suits were a thousand dollars and up. Add in his silk ties and shirts and his hand-crafted leather shoes, and the total would be two grand.

Carmine came in a little after me. He liked sneakers and sweat suits; he dressed up only when he had to. Carmine was a made man, and he demanded respect. He’d been around a long time. Don’t get me wrong: he’s not old, and he can still break heads with the best of them. Carmine filled us in on a numbers problem. It seemed in the last few weeks, the numbers take was down, and they thought somebody was holding out. If they found that to be true, then somebody was in for a lot of hurt and pain. The last thing one wanted to do was to steal from these people. There was a guy some time back who thought he could be a partner, and no one would know. He now sells pencils at Grand Central Station—and he will never walk again. I guess one could say he’s lucky, because they let him live.

Sonny came in later in the morning, or whenever he felt like it. Sonny was the boss, and the talk was that someday he would be number one in Brooklyn. The guy had what it took, and he was respected by all the bosses. Sonny grew up like all of us on the streets. We all started very young and came from poor families. In order to survive on the streets in our neighborhood, we had to learn fast if we didn’t want our asses kicked every day; we had to fight. Sonny got sent away to reform school when he was eight. His father liked to drink, and when he got drunk, he liked to beat on Sonny and his older brother. From what I know of it, one day his father was beating on Sonny’s brother, only this time it was different. Sonny’s brother was a little slow and wouldn’t fight back, and this made his father even madder. Sonny’s brother was lying there bleeding, and so Sonny got a baseball bat and went to work on his father’s head. His brother lived, and so did his father. Sonny got sent away. He spent two years in reform school, and during that time his brother and father both died, allegedly of natural causes. Sonny could never forgive his mother for not doing anything to stop his father, but shortly after he got out, his mother got sick. Sonny took care of her for years because it was his responsibility to do it, not because of love. By the time his mother died, Sonny was already connected and doing very well. He got arrested twice over the years but was never convicted. His new family took care of it; they had big-money lawyers to get him off.

Now that Sonny was a made man and a boss, he didn’t have to do the dirty work. Sonny was now married, had three kids (two daughters and a son), lived in a beautiful house in Bay Ridge, drove a brand-new Caddy Eldorado—not bad for a kid from a poor neighborhood that had all the odds against him. Sonny’s education didn’t come from books; it came from the life of hard knocks. Some would say he is a bad man. I say he is a survivor and a better man than a lot of the garbage that hide behind a title, like politicians or lawyers. There is good and bad, and we are all human.

Sonny got to the club around 11:45 and got right down to business. The accountant came up with two names that were light with their takes for the last two weeks. Numbers were a funny thing. People who played the numbers played religiously, and for the week’s take to be off by a large amount two weeks in a row by the same runner just didn’t happen. Sonny gave the two names to Carmine and told him to put the word out for info as to where these guys hung out. He then told him, When you have the info, take Duke with you and do what you have to do to get them to talk. Then call me. Sonny would never put a hit on anyone without knowing the whole story. Carmine and Duke could be very persuasive when it came to getting someone to talk; most of the time when they confronted someone, the person talked. People knew what they were dealing with, and their only hope was to come clean, but if for some reason they needed a little help, Carmine and the Duke would be happy to help them out.

Then Sonny turned to more pressing business. He’d just received word from our contact at Newark Airport about some interesting cargo that was coming in. We were never told what the cargo was, only that the truck picking up the cargo was a target. Most of the time the driver was in on it and was paid off, but that didn’t matter. If he wanted to be a hero, he could wind up dead. Sonny told us the cargo would arrive Friday at around 2:00 AM. That gave us two days to get things set. He told Dillinger to get two guys for the job. We needed a driver and a lookout. Dillinger and I would be the strong arms for the job, and seeing how the driver was in on it, we should have no problem. The truck would then drive to a warehouse in Red Hook, Brooklyn. We’d unload the truck and abandon it out in the flatlands section of Brooklyn. It was funny that most shipments of valuable cargo came early in the morning. That made things easier for us. One would think people would want to ship midday when a lot of people were around. Go figure.

Carmine made a few calls, and within an hour he had the info he needed. He also found out one of the guys who was light, Charlie Manno, was doing a lot of gambling lately. He hung out at a basketball court on Turner Street in Red Hook. The other guy, Sammy Rayez, was his cousin. Sammy hung out in Sunset Park and liked to play dominos. There was a section with concrete tables and benches where people could go and play. From the info Carmine got, Sammy had been running numbers for a long time and had never had any problems. He was a family man with kids, so it was not likely that he was stealing for himself, and everyone spoke highly of him. Carmine decided they would pay a visit to Sammy first. The games started around ten in the morning, so the next morning Carmine and the Duke would be there. Sonny wanted to do a sweep of the club before anyone left; this was done from time to time to make sure there were no bugs. The chances of the feds planting a bug in here was very slim, but Sonny took no chances when it came to the feds. Also, Sonny wanted everyone to keep their eyes and ears open over at the strip club for anyone or anything out of the ordinary. I guess Sonny knew something we didn’t know.

2

THE NEXT DAY I GOT to the club around ten in the morning. Sonny was already there; it turns out a local, Jerry De Amber, had requested to speak to Sonny. Jerry owned an auto repair shop and parking garage on Ninth Street. He was a good guy and did a lot of favors for us, like repairs and storage, and he always did the right thing. He would never do any repairs that were not necessary. He had a reputation of being a good mechanic and an honest one. Sonny would always talk to the locals, and if he could help them, he would. Some people didn’t want anything to do with us, and that was okay; we understood. Just as long as they didn’t get in our way, and they respected us as we respected them, we had no problem.

Jerry got to the club shortly after me and was told Sonny would be with him in a few minutes Eddie told him to sit at the table in the back corner and asked if he wanted coffee. Sonny finished his phone conversation and went out to speak to Jerry. They talked for about an hour, and then Sonny told Jerry to go home and not to worry; he would take care of it. He told Jerry, You have been a good friend, and I know if the time came that I needed a favor, you would not hesitate. Jerry had come to Sonny for help for his nephew, Albert. From what I understood, Albert and his girlfriend went out to celebrate his acceptance to medical school. Albert’s parents lived in Westchester County; his father was a doctor with a private practice, and the family had money and could afford to pay for their son’s education. Albert’s girlfriend also lived in Westchester. They were going to a night club in Peekskill called the Ace in the Hole, which was a new hot spot north of the city. After they left the place, at some point they were attacked. Albert was beaten unconscious, and his girlfriend, Mary, was beaten and raped and was now in a coma. Albert regained consciousness in the hospital and gave the cops a description of the guys who beat him up as well as a description of their car. The cops picked them up and booked them, but they were freed on bail.

Carmine and the Duke got to Sunset Park at around 10:30 AM. It was a sunny morning, and being in the park was like being in the country, with all the trees and whatnot. There were a lot of people around, and Carmine knew they would have to take Sammy for a ride in order to talk to him some place quite. When they got to the table area, they spotted Sammy playing dominos. When they got close and Sammy saw them, it seemed as though Sammy might run, but he didn’t—lucky for him. Running from these people was not a good idea. Still, Sammy was not too happy to see Carmine and the Duke, and he was very nervous. Carmine told him they needed to talk to him, and they needed to go now. On the way to the car, Sammy started to talk. He said he knew what they wanted and said he was sorry. He never meant any disrespect, but his cousin was in trouble, and he had to help him. Carmine told him as long as he was cooperating with them, he had nothing to worry about right now, but if they found out that he was lying, then that was something different. When they got to the car, Carmine told the Duke to drive down to the docks; there were a lot of deserted areas down there where they could talk.

After they parked, Carmine told Sammy, What’s done is done. Sonny can be a forgiving guy, but right now he’s not happy. If this don’t turn out right, you’re history.

Sammy pleaded with Carmine. I can explain. You see, my cousin works on the docks and got into a card game with some other workers. He lost his pay. This was a couple of months ago, and he kept trying to get his money back, but he keeps losing more. He thinks they were cheating, but he can’t prove anything. Three weeks ago he owed them five grand, and they said they wanted the money. He got scared and came to me for help.

Carmine asked, Why didn’t he come to us?

Sammy said, He was afraid because he works with them.

They drove Sammy back to the park and told him not to tell anyone about their talk. Carmine and the Duke got back to the club around 12:30 and told Sonny what they were able to find out. Carmine told Sonny he believed what Sammy told them, and then he asked what Sonny wanted them to do next. Sonny said, Wait till next week before you talk to the cousin. This way we’ll see if the take comes in right. Then he told Carmine he wanted him and the Duke to handle the thing with Jerry De Amber, but there was no rush; it could be after the numbers thing was out of the way. Carmine was Sonny’s right-hand man. Sonny depended on him for anything, thought needed special attention, and Carmine never let him down.

Then Sonny filled us in on the problem Jerry came to speak to him about. Jerry told Sonny that his nephew and girlfriend left the night club around 2:00 AM. Albert pulled out on Route Nine to head over to Palisades Parkway, but he turned right instead of the way he should have gone, which was left. A short time later he realized he must be headed in the wrong direction. He spotted a convenience store and pulled in to get directions. There was no one to be seen, and so he told Mary to stay in the car and went inside for help. Shortly after Albert went into the store, a car pulled in with three guys in it. They saw Mary in the car and started making advances at her. She got scared and locked the doors. Albert came out, and went to the car, and got out of there as quickly as possible.

The three guys never went in; they piled back in their car and followed them. When they got to a deserted strip of road, they pulled alongside Albert’s car and forced him off the road. They dragged Albert from the car and beat him unconscious. When the cops found them, Albert was in a ditch, and his girlfriend was found naked and unconscious in the back seat of the car.

Sonny wanted to go over the truck highjack tomorrow. We did at least three a year, but Sonny liked to be sure all the bases were covered. Sonny asked Dillinger if he got the two guys set for tomorrow. Dillinger said, Yes. Frankie Bats will drive the truck, and Michael Piron will be lookout. We’ve used them before, and they know to keep their mouths shut.

Then Sonny asked Carmine and the Duke to make sure they were at the airport early, and to follow the truck when it left the airport. He asked me, Where will you and Dillinger be?

I told Sonny, We will be at Broom Street and Avenue K. The driver knows to pull over just short of the corner. It’s a deserted area with little or no lighting.

Sonny says, Good. From there, drive to the warehouse, unload the truck, and get rid of it. Then Sonny tells me, You and Dillinger follow this guy Frankie after you dump the truck. Drop him off at the subway, let him take the train home, and then go back to the warehouse. Carmine and the Duke will be waiting for you. We’ll all meet at the strip club. Dillinger, did you tell this guy Michael to get lost after we unload the truck?

Dillinger said, Yeah, I told him, Sonny. He knows what to do, and he knows to keep his mouth shut.

Okay, then. I’ll see everyone at the strip club tomorrow night. Any problems, you know what to do.

3

ON FRIDAY MORNING AT 2:00 AM, Dillinger, Frankie, and I were parked at Broom Street and Avenue K, on the opposite side of the street but just close enough to be able to move when the time came. I told Frankie, When the truck shows, you know what to do.

Frankie said, Yeah, yeah. This is not my first time, you know.

At about three o’clock the truck turned the corner, and Frankie got out of the car and walked across the street to the passenger side of the truck. The driver pulled to the curb and got out on the passenger side. Frankie was waiting there and quickly took the driver over to the side and tied him up. He also took the driver’s wallet, and then he got into the truck and pulled out. This took about two minutes. Time was the key—the faster, the better. We followed the truck not to closely, staying a good distance apart just in case we had to peel away, and we never went over the speed limit.

At around four we arrived at the warehouse in Red Hook, backed the truck in, and started unloading. The truck was loaded with very expensive cigars. They were ten-dollar cigars, the kind they smoked at the Friars Club in Manhattan and only sold at the upscale cigar stores in Manhattan. The truck was loaded with 138 cases of cigars, and each case had thirty boxes in it. They sold for around two hundred dollars for a box of twenty. The total take would be eight hundred twenty thousand dollars—not bad for a night’s work. Most of the load would be sold to one of our front men for around a hundred thousand. He would sell it to some upscale distributors, who in turn would sell to upscale cigar stores in the city. The nice thing about this kind of merchandise was there were no serial numbers, so it was totally untraceable.

At about five o’clock we finished unloading the truck. Dillinger and I followed Frankie to dump the truck. Carmine and the Duke stayed behind to wait for