The Piranhas by Harold Robbins

be out of it or dead.”
    He stared at me. “Maybe you are not as crazy as I thought. Then what do you want to do?”
    “My father had a good business. He rented automobiles. I have another ambition. Airlines are becoming greater each year. But they need capital to own the planes. And capital is difficult to get. I got the idea while traveling on TWA, and I began to notice that behind each cockpit there was a metal sign. ‘This plane is the property of Hughes Aircraft Corp. and leased from H.A.C.’”
    My uncle shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
    “Hughes owns only TWA. I’m sure that many other airlines would like the same kind of deal,” I said.
    “Aircraft leasing! But that would take a great deal of money,” my uncle said.
    “I’m sure that you have the connections to find the money. I think we can begin with two hundred million.” I laughed.
    “I have to think about it,” he said.
    “Forget it,” I said. “You can’t even get into this business. There are seven government agencies keeping close check on the airlines. I think you would have to retire before you get into anything like this.”
    “Maybe you are really crazy after all,” my uncle said. “Money has no name on where it comes from.”
    “But people do,” I said.
    My uncle rose to his feet. “I will call you when I have the mass arranged.”
    “I will be there,” I said.
    He started to the door, then turned back to me. “You know the girl has gone to France?”
    “I know,” I said.
    “She was a nice girl but not for you,” he said.
    “What kind of a girl would you like me to marry?” I asked.
    “Angelo had a nice girl, from a nice Sicilian family. I think he was thinking of marrying her in time.”
    “A nice Sicilian family?”
    “A very nice Sicilian family. Maybe sometime I can arrange for you to meet them,” he said.
    “Thank you, Uncle Rocco,” I said. “Maybe in time.”
    Then we embraced, and this time I kissed him also. I opened the door and watched as he walked to the elevator and his two bodyguards waiting out in the hall joined him.

Capo Di Tutti Capi Emeritus I
    THERE WAS NO way they could kill Uncle Rocco. Not that they hadn’t tried. Knives, guns, and car bombs. Uncle Rocco had a sixth sense. He had made up his mind: that was not the way he was going to die. “I’m getting old,” he told me. “And now that Angelo is gone and you don’t want to come into the business with me, I have no one to leave it to. So why should I have to fight anymore?”
    I stared at him. We were seated in a small booth at the back of the Palm on Second Avenue. We sat alone, his bodyguards seated at another table nearby. Uncle Rocco still wore his black mourning band for Angelo on the sleeve of his jacket. “I don’t know, Uncle Rocco,” I said. “My father told me a long time ago that you never really get out of the business.”
    “What did your father know?” he growled, rolling a large forkful of pasta from his plate. “This is not the old days. This is the seventies. We’re civilized, more businesslike. I’ve already made my agreement with the five families.”
    “What does that mean?” I asked. “They’re not going to kill you?”
    “You’ve been seeing too many movies,” Uncle Rocco said.
    I cut into my sirloin. It was bloody rare, exactly the way I like it. “You still haven’t told me anything.”
    “I’m moving to Atlantic City,” he said.
    “Why Atlantic City?” I asked. “I thought you always wanted to retire in Miami.”
    “It doesn’t work that way,” Uncle Rocco answered. “Miami is controlled out of Chicago. Bonanno worked it out for me to take care of the hotel and restaurant unions in Atlantic City. It’s a simple operation, enough for me. I don’t want to work hard anymore.”
    I slowly chewed another piece of my steak. “And what did you give them for it?”
    “They’re taking over my operations here. But that’s okay. I’ll have peace and quiet.”
    “That’s a lot