The Jersey Man #3
Part Three
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'Have you ever felt so complete, you suddenly feel ready for death?'
Tony Santoro believed a man is only as good as his lifestyle. It was a selfish thing to say for he knew not everyone could have everything. But he had stopped caring about causes and targetted controlling the effects. When he became someone who could have everything, he began giving to people who weren't so blessed. He had money to buy whatever he wanted. He had good health. He had lived all the luxuries he wanted and a man only fulfills his wants when his needs have long been completed.
Tony Santoro became huge by the 1990s and he got a nickname he enjoyed very much. He joked how it's better than being called The Godfather. New Jersey, USA, 1982
I became a made man in '79. The gathering for the communal service was fucking large. Uncle Joey, uncle Tommy, old man Luigi, Mario Pepez and a lot of other bigshots from America's biggest and most powerful families attended. Not because they gave a flying shit about me, but because Jimmy Sabella commanded a respect so insane, only a fool would decline his invitation.
I was introduced to Frank Lui Longo. He was so old, it's rumored he had worked with Mussolini.
He did not speak English but everyone with Italian or Sicilian blood in them great States of America, knew Old Papa Frankie. He was a legend. He would probably die if you speak loud to him but people were terrified of him. Because they knew he had a past that was factual. They were no stories. It all happened and that induces a fear in one, which is beyond horrifying. And fear is a great motivator.
When he blessed me, I felt that was all I needed. I was ready to take up anything.
All my big dreams, were fucking fulfilled.
Ma couldn't be happier. Jimmy and my Ma got along too. 'Sofia Santoro, you're as beautiful as Tony is competent' Jimmy told my mother in Italian before asking her for a dance. It was all so wonderful.
As a gift, Jimmy handed the power of attorney of the Taxi company to me. We renamed it to Santoro Cabs. And that was the first time my family name was out in the open. It was a start of an era. I could feel it.
Nicky did not wanna be part of the endevour because he wanted to remain close to Jimmy. But that was not true, I knew it. It was because Nicky BigNose was a dark man inside. He loved the thrill. He loved the feeling of taking a man's life and I believe forever, that he has infected me of that feeling too.
He became a permanent enforcer for the Sabellas.
Times were changing and my gun business mixed with my Taxi business took me really up in the food chain.
Jimmy and the famiglia was happy because I used to send a big piece of what I made back to them.
And I was sure to be clean. I was tempted to go into the narcotics business but I knew that was bad money so I made a call.
I was not much of a business minded man but I had a few tricks up my sleeve then and I used them. I opened a chain of garages around New Jersey which had top notch mechanics tending to your car troubles and had adjacent car lots for used car reselling. The idea was great and I was making more money than ever.
Whenever any of my then gangster friends needed a ride, they knew to call me. They needed a piece, they always had known to call me. I was doing great and that's when I realised I had upgraded a stage in my life. And I didn't know if it was for good or bad.
Henry Tribbiani became a business partner in '86. He was a fun guy to have around. After Nicky moved away, I never had a trustee per say. But when Henry came, it all changed.
He was from New York. He was a made man and people from the house knew him. He was welcome.
With him watching my back, we doubled our profits.
We started a factory which made car parts. And ingenuity followed. We used to transport bullets packed inside the parts all across America.
Our success even startled a lot of famiglia members. And that's when life took an interesting turn. I didn't know my life could change more than it had already.
1988 Jimmy was old but not old enough. When he told me that people wanted me to be part of Magnet Corporation and sell my company to Magnet and run it together with the other bosses, I was elated. But slowly I realised what it meant. It meant dividing my power. Dividing my Empire. I couldn't let that happen. But I knew where my loyalty lied, I had always known that. I felt uneasy however. I told Jimmy very respectfully that I needed to talk it through with Henry too. As courtesy. We had bought a Hollywood design pub in LA and had created a replica here at home. We liked to hang out there, have a few drinks and smoke a few cigars.
'Are you really going to accept such a fucking sellout, Tony?' Henry was right. What could I do?
It's funny how some liquid can be an emperor of your life. The next few weeks was my kind of a midlife crisis. My complex had risen. I wanted Santoro to be known. I became an alcoholic and I must accept that I started fucking up.
And Henry saw it right to tell me what he thought should be done. He was influencing me and I was getting influenced.
I cleaned up within a month. I shaved, I cut my hair to how I like it and I bought a new suit. I donned it like a true Italian and I decided to meet Jimmy. You see at that moment I knew I had to take control. I had invited Jimmy over to my highland estate. It was quiet and far from all the city noise. We lit two Cubans and had a Johnie Walker. Midway through I open my briefcase. I remember everything that was going through my head. Vividly.
I knew how much Jimmy trusted me. If one would realise what I was doing then, he wouldn't be ready to believe it. I knew Jimmy. I knew what questions he would ask and what he wouldn't. I asked him to sign a few papers and when he asked what they were for, I said, 'Oh some forms for that order you placed for Miami. Henry insists we get these records. The feds are everywhere, Jimmy'
'Oh sure.' he signed them and then handed them over to me.
I put them inside my briefcase, closed it and turned to him.
I had become a monster.
'Jimmy, I'm sorry. That cigar had poison in it. It'll be in your blood within 10 minutes max. You'll die soon after that.' I saw horror in his eyes. He couldn't believe I could do something like that. He crumbled to the ground soon after that. I knew it wasn't the poison that killed him. The old man just had a heart attack due to the shock.
The next day I walked into the Magnet meeting the old bosses were having and announced that I was not going to be part of Magnet Corporation and that Jimmy Sabella was not going to be one either. They were shocked, confused, devastated and fucking angry when I told them all the Sabella famiglia assets will be pulled off from Magnet. They were furious.
I promised the Sabella's that they would be taken care of. I had promised Jimmy that.
If you aren't caught up, I'll explain: Jimmy had signed a will giving full rights to all Sabella assets to Santoro Company. It was never seen before. The wealth should be for the next of kin. But these motherfuckers were ready to believe the old man saw me as the most worthy son when I wasn't even fucking related. The heart attack worked very well. One of the other reasons of death was easily removed from the coroners report. And what my 'forms for the consignment' was the will I had fooled him to sign. Unbelievable, right?
I made sure the family was doing good though but I controlled everything. I was the new boss and I knew everyone feared me. Nicky was a religious man and he believed that Jimmy would've wanted him to be my enforcer. He answers to me. The seniority had changed. I felt like a god.
And then the Santoro family name echoed through the United States of America. Everyone knew the boss, nicknamed The Jersey Man. 'Have you ever felt so complete, you suddenly feel ready for death?' I remember asking Henry Tribbiani. I felt that complete. I felt ready.
Tony Santoro finished that entire Cigar. He coughed twice, got up and grabbed his cane. He walked out slowly. His men opened the door to his Limousine.
'Take me to Monmouth street, I wanna see the place I lost my virginity in' he winked at his driver. THE END