Chapter 8

Johnny Leonard had all the information he needed. Acting on Frank Coppo's orders, he decided the time had arrived to make his move against the new prostitution ring operating in Coppol territory - a ring that was not paying off to Frank, and that was one of the things people just did not do to Frank.

Sunday morning, at a late brunch, Johnny issued his orders: Bring them all in, today. They'd meet with Frank at 4:00 in the afternoon!

"How about the Johns?" a heavyweight type asked him.

"Send them on their way ... just bring in the girls ... and the guy who's running it!" Johnny told them, "You've got the names and addresses."

Jack and Terri had made a night of it. They had returned to her home, gone directly to her bedroom and copulated, neither of them thinking or caring of anything but sex. Jack had taken her three times more before dawn, then they both slept a sweet sleep of sheer exhaustion.

Awakening about noon, Terri had looked over at his sleeping form, his nude, muscled body, so tan, contrasting sharply with her own white loveliness ... She had reached out to caress him, and he awoke and she was suddenly enveloped in his strong arms again.

"Don't you ever get enough?" he asked her with a grin.

"No," she said, "It's still like a new toy ... "

"That's no toy," he grinned, pointing downward.

Later, satiated and hungry now, they showered and dressed, went to the kitchen where she made coffee and they snacked from Greta's well-stocked refrigerator.

They were sitting at the kitchen table over a second cup of coffee. Jack had just lit a cigarette when the fat man walked in the back door.

Jack started to rise from his chair, startled, "What the ... ?"

A second man entered and stood behind him.

"Sit back down," he ordered, "quiet-like .., and nobody gets hurt. We just want the girl, Buddy!"

Terri screamed, and the fat man slapped her once, hard, across the face. Cold steel against Jack's back persuaded him not to interfere, this time.

"Get your purse," the fat man told her, "or whatever you need. You're going to have a talk with Frank."

"F-Frank? ... Frank ... w-who?" she asked, cringing away from him, not wanting to be hurt again.

"Frank Coppol!" he grunted, "Frank don't like people holding out on him."

"I-I don't understand ..."

"You will!" the second man snapped, "All working whores pay off to Frank... or they don't work at all!"

"And some of them can't work again, after we get finished," the fat man said, his face folding up in a smile at his own cruel humor, "Take the John out and put him in his car ... send him on his way with our regards!" he finished.

The situation was, instantly, crystal clear to Jack. As the gun in his back prodded him to his feet, he looked at Terri with cold fury. "Just let me get my wallet," he said.

"OK - but careful like," the man behind him warned.

Jack took out his last twenty dollar bill and tossed it on the table, his voice was steely. "I can't pay your full price, but I never took anything for nothing in my life!"

Terri recoiled. He might as well have struck her.

"Oh, Jack ..." she sobbed, her eyes scalding with quick tears, "Y-You don't understand!"

"I understand!" he snapped and strode from the room.

"Jack!" she screamed.

SMACK!

"Shut up!" the fat man snapped, "Pick up your money ... and let's go."

Terri could only obey, as, silently now and completely cowed, she did as the fat man bid her.

Oh, God! What have I done? What have I done?

"They're all here now," Johnny Leonard reported.

The girls were led in one by one to be seated before Frank Coppol, who sat back, relaxed, behind his big desk, the surface of which was polished to a high gloss. Everything in the room reflected good taste with no expense spared.

There was Pauline Riggs, sullen, haughty; Gloria put on an amused smile; then there came Barbara, Joan, Marie and Francine, who were frightened, pale, sobbing. Last to be brought in was Terri. Pauline Riggs gasped, audibly, when she saw her, "Oh, my God!"

Terri ignored her, but her eyes clashed momentarily with Gloria's. Gloria smiled somewhat wanly and said, "Welcome to the sorority."

They had all been escorted separately into the big office, having been held in individual rooms until all were present. Now, the door opened again and George Marklin was escorted into the room by two guards. He saw Terri. His face paled, eyes widening and mouth gaping open.

"Terri," he croaked, "What are you doing here?"

George could not have been more surprised than was his wife. The room spun around her, but her faint was short-lived as someone put a glass of brandy to her lips and forced her to sip its reviving warmth.

Frank Coppol watched with easy amusement, spearing each of them with his good eye, missing nothing.

"All right," he said, "She'll be OK now."

Terri settled back into the cushions with the brandy glass in her hand. She was confused. Events were happening too fast for her to grasp what was going on.

Johnny Leonard began to speak. "Here's the story, Frank ... Marko, here," he indicated George Marklin, "got together with Pauline Riggs, who manages a fancy dress shop ..."

Marko? He called my husband Marko, Terri thought in amazement.

"She extends credit to women who like nice clothes, but can't really afford them. Then, she springs the trap ... Work it out, pay off their debt by taking on the Johns she books for them. They work it real cool... all the dates in the afternoon, and the Johns are all high-pay business and professional types. She keeps the girls stashed in three apartments that Marko keeps for that purpose. Pauline and Gloria are the enforcers and make the pick-ups from the girls. Pauline and Marko split the take ... and Gloria gets a bonus on the side ... and the crazy thing is, it was working. That's about it."

Coppol gave a short alugh. "Smart!" he chuckled, "but not smart enough, Marko!"

"My name's George Marklin ... and I'm a movie dir - " George began.

Coppol's eyes stopped him, "We know who you are ... you're Gorgonio Marko, born in Naples! You changed your name when you came over here to work in the movies, but you had to have more... you had to get back in the rackets and prostitution was the one you figured you could get by with... select girls ... rich Johns ... afternoons only ... you figured you'd never hurt us enough for us to notice you ... isn't that it?"

"It's a mistake! You got the wrong man!" George croaked.

"We've got the right man, Marko," Frank said with finality. Then, with a smile, he continued, "But what went wrong with your system? Kind of ironic that your own wife was caught in your little trap ... and you didn't know it!"

Marklin shot a malevolent glance at Pauline, "You slut!" he screamed.

"Shut up," Pauline faced, "You bastard!"

"It's a little late for recriminations," Frank Coppol interjected, "Now, all of you listen to me."

The room became silent and all eyes turned to him.

"Nobody pulls crap like this on Frank Coppol. Now ... starting with you, Marko... I'm giving you three days to make arrangements to go back to Naples! If you're still around after that, they'll send you home in a box! Understand? ... Ordinarily, I wouldn't be so lenient, but I kind of like your ingenuity ... maybe you can work with the boys in Italy ..."

Marklin nodded dumbly, glad to gain even such a reprieve. He knew he could have been a dead man.

Like a judge, Frank dealt with each in turn: Francine, Barbara, Joan and Marie each stated that she had been trapped into prostitution and never wanted to do it... and wanted to get out of it, now.

Frank warned them, "Don't ever work in my territory again. Break your promise ... and you wind up broken! Believe me... we have methods that will remind you nobody ever crosses me ... I'm Frank Coppol and my family runs Southern California!"

The four frightened women understood, and were grateful to get off so lightly.

With mounting horror, Terri began to understand what was happening. This man wielded immense power. She knew that her turn would come soon; a chance to speak in self-defense. What could she say? Then, the stark memory of Jack Chavez tossing a wrinkled twenty on the kitchen table flashed across her mind. She was a whore! Oh, God! What can I say?

Frank's good eyes seemed to pin Gloria to her chair, she tried to stare him down defiantly, but it was she who wavered.

"And you, Gloria West, model, photographer... married to an insurance company executive ... what makes you tick?"

Gloria glanced briefly at Pauline, and Frank saw it. Before she could give an answer, he had supplied one himself. "I think I know ... you make it with girls, eh?"

The redhead looked at him steadily, defiantly.

"Yes," she said, simply.

"And you and Mrs. Riggs are more than friends, eh?"

Pauline shot him a murderous look. "You assume a lot of things, Mr. Coppol."

"I assume nothing, Mrs. Riggs. I know! Now we'll consider your cases together." He thought for a moment. "Guido," he said, "I'm turning the madame over to you ... you should be able to use her in that house near the docks at San

Pedro."

Guido looked her over critically and agreed, "OK, Frank... I need some new blood down there."

Pauline sprang to her feet, eyes flaming, "I'm not a piece of merchandise! I won't be pawed ... and manhandled like a common prostitute!"

Frank's eye signaled Guido and in two strides he stood in front of Pauline. "You don't have a choice. From now on, you work for me and do as I say!"

"But those horrible working men ... sailors ... longshoremen ... they'll want to ... "

"Sure they will... and you'll give 'em anything they want, and don't forget that, either. Now sit down and shut up, until Frank's through ... and then I'll begin training you the way I like for my girls to be trained!" Guido said coldly.

Pauline remained standing, "You can't force me to ... "

She didn't get a chance to finish. Guido's hand whipped out to catch her full on the side of the face. "That's all, bitch!"

She sank to her chair, whimpering, a hand to her face and her eyes wide with disbelief. They were going to make her work for them as a common whore ... and on the docks! The vision of the rough men and human flotsam that inhabited such areas revulsed her. They were going to use her body for their own lustful satisfaction! She was trapped! They couldn't do it to her... not to Pauline Riggs who only wanted gentle sex, with other women.

Coppol turned his attention to Gloria as Guido sat down.

"Johnny," he said, and Johnny Leonard was instantly alert.

"Yes, Frank?"

"We'll send this redhead down to Tijuana. I owe Jose a favor for helping us with that last Mexican shipment."

Leonard shifted uneasily, "What about immigration ... we don't want any trouble with them ..."

"No trouble to get her in ... but she'll have a hell of a time ever getting back into the States. Anyway, she'll be Jose's problem, once we turn her over to him," Frank explained.

"OK, it's as good as done," Johnny agreed.

With a horrible sinking feeling that seemed to turn to lead in her belly, Terri knew that she was next... and last.

Frank Coppol's good eye looked her over carefully, "Now, Mrs. Terri Marklin, beauty contest winner and former movie star ... what do you have to say for yourself?"

Terri looked at him steadily, she was dry eyes and composed. During the time he had addressed himself to the others, she had come to a decision. She spoke softly, her voice barely audible.

"I-I was tricked," she began, "forced to play the part of a whore ... I am a w-whore ... and now... I'll just have to keep on being one. I like nice things... maybe I could keep on getting nice clothes ... meeting rich people ... and getting some kicks doing it... "

A smile spread across his face. He chuckled, "I like people who face things realistically and honestly, and I'm going to give you your chance." He swiveled to face Johnny Leonard and went on, "Let Terri get whatever she needs ... send one of the boys with her to help her pack, then take her to my place up on Wilshire. She'll be under your supervision ... but I want her available to work directly for me, anytime I want her ... understand?"

"Of course, Frank," he smiled.

"All right, then, that's it." Frank Coppol said and got to his feet. The meeting was over. The fates of eight humans had been determined by this man, acting as judge, jury and executioner. His word was law here ... and he was supreme. There could be no appeal and his sentences would be carried out to the letter. Such was the power wielded by the "Capo," the family leader who controlled all vice and crime in Southern California.

Terri got to her feet with the others and the fat man came to escort her. She was a valuable property, now.

Frank Coppol smiled and came to her, "I like you," he said, "You treat me right... and I'll see that you're taken care of... properly!" He grinned lewdly, his meaning unmistakable."

"I-I understand," she said, smiling at him.

Terri never heard again from or about Jack Chavez. He had walked out of her life forever. She did, however, hear about Pauline Riggs. A week after she went to work on the docks, she was knocked down and killed instantly by a huge tractor-trailer rig. The truck driver was quoted in the newspapers, "This woman ran right out in front of me ... I couldn't avoid hitting her! It was almost like she wanted to be hit... like she was committing suicide."

A month later, Terri was being driven to Palm Springs by the fat man. He was her constant companion now, he drove her to her assignations and picked her up, depositing her safely back again at the apartment Frank Coppol maintained for her. He took Frank's payoff from her take, and provided her with protection.

As they drove along the desert highway, they chatted.

"Do you know these people I'm supposed to spend the weekend with, Al?"

"All I know is the guy's a rich, hot one ... something to do with electronics ... and Frank's working with him."

"Oh?" she rounded her red lips prettily, "Is he married?"

"Yeah ... Frank said she was a beautiful doll... an AC-DC type ..." he added.

"MMmmmm ... just the kind of setup I like!" she said.

Terri's mind seethed with anticipation. She would get to take care of both of them ... for a whole weekend. It would be easy to satisfy the man, she decided. It always was ... then, she'd be free to be with the woman, a beautiful doll, Al said. That's what she really looked forward to, what she lived for, and it was a good life. She had almost everything she had ever wanted: clothes and sex ... all kinds of sex!

She looked at the fat man. "Al... how come you never give me a tumble?"

He looked at her with startled eyes. "You don't know?"

"No!"

"You're Frank's girl! It's hands off... for everybody ... didn't you know that?"

"No ... no, I didn't know that..." She was thoughtful for a moment. "Is that good ... ?"

"For you!" he said, "You're a lucky broad!"

"Then, you'll never..."

"Never!" he said. "Unless Frank gives the word!"

"Would he ever d-do that?"

It was the fat man's turn to hesitate thoughtfully. "As long as you play ball with Frank ... keep your nose clean ... do as he says ... you're set!" he told her.

"Is that part of the code, too?"

"It's the code! But don't worry Terri, everything is O K.... and you're an O K. gal! Frank won't ever get tired of you!"