His smile included all of them — friend and enemy, the vast majority who were still uncommitted. When he spoke, his voice was firm and strong.
"I'm happy all of you could make it here tonight, despite the recent troubles." A general grumbling around the table let him know that he had touched on the subject of their chief concern. "We had some trouble here, ourselves, as Jules and Lester there could tell you, eh?"
No gesture of acknowledgment from either of the West Coast dons. He forged ahead, ignoring the snub.
"The reason I asked you all to join me here was so that we could settle some unfinished business. What I've got to say pertains to everybody in this room... and I believe you're gonna think the trip was worth it when you've heard me out."
A pause then, for effect, to let the appetizer settle in and whet their curiosity. No need to drop it on them all at once. There would be time enough for raking in the honors when he had them on his side.
"We've had a lotta trouble lately — hell, the past few years — with yellow rats who've sold out to the government and carried tales about our families, this thing of ours."
A murmur, this time of agreement, ran around the table.
"Fact is," he told them when the rumbling had died away, "nobody's had more trouble with informers than we have right here... and you know who I mean."
A growl this time, and not just from the New York dons. The shock waves from the testimony of the rat he had in mind had reached from coast to coast, and Minelli knew he had their full attention now.
"This bastard grew up not five miles from here, wormed his way up through the family, and then he turned, like some...some kinda fucking snake or something, biting at the hand that fed him all those years. I know; he bit my family more than once, and I got scars to show for it."
No need to mention that Dave Eritrea's testimony also cleared the throne that Minelli hoped to occupy this night.
"There's been a lot of talk about what should be done with rats like these... and this rat in particular... but no one's got a handle on exactly where the Feds were hiding them away. So far."
An air of expectation filled the conference room, and Minelli took his time, maintaining eye contact with the two Aces standing watch on a side door, waiting for his command. At a nod, one of them disappeared through the exit, hastening to fetch his prize.
"Well... I got lucky, or, maybe I just touched some bases nobody had touched before. Whatever, it's my pleasure now to introduce a special guest who couldn't join us earlier. You could say he was all tied up for dinner."
At a snap of his fingers, the side door was opened, and the Black Ace propelled Eritrea into the room. The hostage staggered, found his balance and was blinking at the faces ranged around the table when a howl went up and everyone was jabbering together in excited tones.
On Minelli's left, Vito Aguirre was out of his seat in an instant, landing two quick punches on Eritrea's jaw before his consigliere and one of the Aces could restrain him, leading him gently back to his chair. The other capos kept their seats, but they were glowering darkly at the new arrival — and most of them were viewing Minelli with a new respect.
The mafioso raised a hand to still the uproar, waiting while it ran its course.
"You'll get your chance," he promised them. "Fact is, I figured some of you could use a little after-dinner entertainment, eh? Work off a little of that pasta while you got the chance."
He shared their laughter, glancing at Eritrea from the corner of one eye and nodding for the Ace to lead him out.
"He'll be around, don't worry... but there's other business that we need to talk about before we break it up." He hesitated, took a breath and plunged ahead. "Like how this thing of ours has fallen all apart the past few years, for instance. And like what it's gonna take to make it like it was before."
They were listening now, but some of them were still openly skeptical, as if they knew what was coming and were determined not to buy it. Minelli refused to let that deter him. He had come too far out on the limb to back down now.
"It used to be the brotherhood was run like a machine: well oiled, well kept, no problems that you couldn't fix without a major overhaul. Time was, the dons sat down together just like one, and what they said...well, shit, that was the fucking law. Some judge, some congressman, whatever, tries to screw around with the brothers, and he finds himself out of a job. He keeps coming, and he gets his frigging head handed to him on a platter, am I right?"
A murmur of assent, and even Cigliano nodded, getting in the spirit of it now and thinking back to good old days that he had never known himself.
"Time was, we ran this country... and we could again... but not the way we operate right now." He paused and let them glance around at one another, silently condemning this or that of their associates for weakening the standards of the whole. "Today, it's like a Chinese fire drill when we try to get things done. The Feds are up our assholes with a magnifying glass, and all we do is shake our heads like some lame ducks who haven't got the legs to stand and fight."