“What we got is that cat,” Charlie says. “If we got a lion, that’s it.”

After that, the lion had to stay full-time at the warehouse.

Lefty called me in Florida. “We gotta get rid of the lion. It’s tearing up the walls in the warehouse. It eats the wires. How about you take it down there? You got five acres. Just put a chain-link fence over one of the tennis courts. We’ll ship it down.”

“You’re crazy. They’re not gonna let us keep a lion in a tennis court.”

One night they loaded the lion into the van and took it to a park in Queens and tied it by its leash to a bench.

Lefty called me. “Get today’s Post. They found our lion. It escaped. They got it at the ASPCA. That lion is making some news. It’s all over television. Pretty bastard.”

The front page of the New York Post had the headline: KING OF THE JUNGLE FOUND IN QUEENS! A big picture showed the lion between two cops, one holding its leash. The story said that a man had found this six-month-old lion cub wandering outside St. Mary’s Cemetery in Flushing, Queens. Nobody had the slightest idea where the lion had come from.

Some of Sonny’s crew in Brooklyn were arrested, and it looked like there was a snitch involved. Lefty called to tell me everybody new was suspect.

“In other words,” he tell me over the phone, “who’s responsible has to die.”

“They’re not worried about Tony, are they?”

“Let’s put it this way: You’re not, I’m not, but they are. We gotta go to his background.”

“Okay.”

“We got Rocky around us. And what’s that guy?”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie, yeah. And we got Chico, right?”

“Well, Chico had another argument with his girl, and he took off.” Agent Chico had left the operation.

“I don’t like that. You see, that’s another thing I gotta check out there. That’s another thing that’s no good.”

“Well, this broad is driving him crazy.”

“I understand that, but it’s no good. You’re involved in all these things. I can’t account for everything. Like now, they’re letting it slide about Rocky out there.”

Rocky, the undercover cop I had helped introduce into the mob world for a separate operation, the one who had gone on the boat trip with us, had a car business not far from New York City. I helped Rocky set up this business as a cover. When Tony Mirra got out of prison, he started hanging out with Rocky. That put Lefty in a bind. Since I had introduced Rocky to him, Lefty felt that Rocky belonged to him and owed him a share of anything he did. At the same time, Lefty didn’t want to have anything to do with Mirra.

“He’s hanging out with that stool pigeon,” Lefty says, meaning Mirra. “I don’t know what you’re gonna do with him. I don’t know what’s going on. This guy does something wrong, Donnie, you and I are going bye-bye. I know this guy is gonna send us to our death. I gotta talk to you about it.”

It put me in a bind, too, because I didn’t know what was going on with Rocky and Mirra, either.

“We’re coming out tomorrow,” Lefty says over the phone, a few days before Thanksgiving. “Four guys.”

“Who’s coming?”

“You gotta pick us up. He’s gonna tell you that there.” He gave me the flight information to write down and said that “he,” meaning Sonny, was going to be calling me about this. “Four people. Don’t ask no questions.”

“Okay. All right. Uh, these guys heavyweights, or what?”

“Look, leave it alone. Just get us a couple of rooms. You gotta get us a car. Get a big four-door job. Charge it to our expense on the business.”

“Okay.”

“Double rooms next to each other, by the pool.”

A few hours later Sonny called.

“Look, a couple of people are gonna come down there. They need the car. And only if Boobie asks you for anything, whatever you want, you give him, and then I’ll make it up.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Only him.”

“All right.”

“They’ll explain to you down there.”

“I was just talking to Lefty,” I say, “and he said that you wanted to talk to me about some people coming down. You don’t have any information, though, huh?”

“Tomorrow.”

Then I called Lefty back—I kept both of them clued in to cover myself. “I just talked to him,” I say, “and he said Boobie and a couple of other guys would be coming down.”

“He didn’t mention my name? I don’t know what’s on this fucking man’s fucking mind. That’s all he told you—Boobie’s coming down with a couple of guys tomorrow. And he never mentioned my name.”

“Not right off the bat, but I said I had talked to you—see, I don’t want to mention anybody’s name.”

“Right, there’s no names involved. We always doing everything right. And we can’t embarrass ourselves, that’s what counts, that’s the goddamn thing. Now, we’re not gonna tie you guys up, you understand?”

“Yeah. We’ll just give you the car, you do what you gotta do.”

“We’ll come back, party it up, a few drinks.”

“You’re not gonna do nothing tomorrow night, right?”

“No, no, we’re gonna just have a few drinks together. And expect us back in the future. I’ll explain to you when I see you.”

The next night, Rossi and I were to pick them up at the Tampa airport. We were trying to hold expenses down, especially where Lefty was concerned. I told Rossi that I wasn’t going to put out any money to rent them a car. They could rent their own car.

We met Lefty, Boobie, an ex-New York cop named Dennis, and Jimmy Legs—James Episcopia—a big guy abut 6’4”, with skinny arms and skinny legs and a pot-belly and a toupee.

Lefty says, “You rent a car?”

“No, my American Express line is used up. I’m overextended.”

“Well, who the fuck’s gonna rent the car?”

“Put it on your fucking card for once. Why should I get stuck with the bill? I don’t even know why the fuck you’re here.”

Then we went to the baggage claim. I didn’t pick up his bag as I always had. Everybody else got their bags, and his was still riding around. Finally he got the idea and picked up his own bag.

This happened in front of these other wiseguys, and he was very steamed. I was really going to hear about this when we were alone, but I didn’t care. I was tired of Lefty.

There were times I could sit and talk enjoyably with Lefty, largely because of the genuine affection he had for me. Then there were times I could have strangled him on the spot because he embarrassed me or treated me like a piece of shit. Like, we might be at a Chinese restaurant and I’m ordering something that’s not Chinese. And in front of everybody he would talk about what a fucking nitwit idiot I was. I knew this wasn’t personal. He was like that with everybody. But I couldn’t swallow everything all the time.

Back at the end of 1979, I had blown up at him over something. “I ain’t your fucking slave,” I had said.

“So when we’re out, don’t you fucking embarrass me in front of people because I might lose my head and fucking whack you, and that’s bad for me because then I get killed.”

“But see, Donnie, you don’t understand,” he had said. “What I’m trying to do is to school you. You never hear me talk to Mike Sabella that way. Suppose Mike heard you talk like that? When they open the books, they won’t put you up. Don’t you want to be a wiseguy?”

So now, we got to the rental car ahead of the others, and he blew.

“You fucking embarrassed me in front of my friends, you cocksucker!”

“You don’t like it, huh? Now you know how I feel when you embarrass me. Now I’m schooling you in my thoughts. I’m not a fucking peon anymore. I’ve made a lot of fucking money for everybody. I’m entitled to the same respect.”

“Don’t you think these guys noticed? Don’t you think they’re gonna go back and tell Sonny? Don’t you think that’s a black mark on you?”

“I would never embarrass Sonny, because he’s a fucking boss. But, hey, if that’s the way the fucking game’s played, then that’s the way it’s played.”