The Love Killers by Jackie Collins

several Bassalino territories. They weren’t succeeding, however, they were causing certain problems. What with that and the protection business, he knew it was time he paid a visit. He was sure with him in town those problems would soon cease. Perhaps a personal meeting with Rizzo Crown would fix things. They went back many years together, so why not?
    Finished with Frank, he telephoned Nick in Los Angeles. ‘What’s happening?’ he asked, always his opening question.
    Nick gave him a short rundown.
    â€˜Fine, fine.’ Enzio coughed and spat into an ashtray on his desk, a habit that did not endear him to his staff. ‘I’m going to New York tomorrow—it might not be a bad idea for you to fly in for a couple of days. We’ll have a family meeting.’
    â€˜Why?’ Nick didn’t like leaving the Coast. He didn’t like his suntan suffering for even one day.
    â€˜It might be advisable,’ Enzio said. ‘I’ll let you know.’
    â€˜Jesus,’ Nick muttered.
    â€˜What’s the matter with you?’ Enzio boomed. ‘Can’t you leave the old broad for two days? What’s she got, a direct line to your balls?’
    â€˜If it’s necessary, I’ll be there,’ Nick said, giving in without a fight. Maybe a trip to New York wasn’t such a bad idea. It just might be the perfect opportunity to get something together with Lara that April couldn’t find out about.
    â€˜Okay, okay, I’ll let you know,’ Enzio said, hanging up.
    Nick was a stupid boy. Any man was dumb if he let a woman tie his balls together. Enzio had always prided himself on being very clever about the female sex. A piece was a piece, and there was plenty around. ‘Use them before they use you’ had always been his motto. Once they became clingy and demanding, that was the time to get rid of them.
    Mary Ann August wriggled into his study. Clad in her customary bikini with puffs of teased blond hair, she stood silently picking off her nail polish until he said a curt ‘Yeah? What is it?’
    â€˜Alio’s here,’ she singsonged. ‘Out by the pool. He wants a sandwich, and the cook’s out. What shall I do?’
    â€˜So make him a sandwich,’ Enzio said irritably, delaying his call to Angelo.
    â€˜What kind?’ she asked blankly.
    â€˜How the hell do I know? Ask him.’ Mary Ann was beginning to piss him off. Sometimes big boobs were not enough.
    â€˜There’s cheese, I guess,’ she said vaguely. ‘Or cucumber. Do you think he’d like cucumber?’
    â€˜What am I? A chef?’ Enzio stormed. ‘Get outta here, ya dumb broad. I gotta make a call.’
    Mary Ann left quickly. She knew when to make herself scarce.
    It would have been nice, Enzio mused, if Rose had not gone insane and locked herself away. An old-style wife was irreplaceable. A woman who knew her position in life and kept it. It would have been far more convenient to stash his mistresses in separate apartments, visiting them only when necessary, putting up with their ridiculous chatter only when he had to.
    But it was too lonely without anyone. He needed to share his bed. Sometimes he had nightmares, dreams from which he awoke shaking and cold around the heart. At those times he reached out for human contact; he desperately needed the security of another body nearby.
    Enzio worried about his health. What if his heart should fail and no one was near? He had suffered one attack three years before. The doctors had assured him he was fine now, better than before.
    Still… What did doctors know? He didn’t trust any of them.
    It wouldn’t be a bad idea, he decided, to replace Mary Ann in New York. Her time was almost up.
    Phoning London, he was aggravated because he could not get hold of Angelo. His son wasn’t at the casino nor at his home. The boy was out screwing, Enzio thought with a snort. He smiled, the proud father.