We were just finishing our coffee downstairs when we were called to Frank’s office. It was a Monday morning. Frank was unpacking his briefcase when we walked in. “Sit down, guys. Sal will be here soon.” He said that without a smile. “It’s okay if you want to light up.”
A couple of minutes later, Sal sat beside Frank’s desk. “Okay, gather around,” Frank announced, relighting his cigar. “What is said now stays in the room, okay?” We all nodded, not really sure what was coming next.
“A couple of weeks ago, I got a phone call from a friend. His name is Mateo Tortello. He"s the President of the Local in Philadelphia. It seems,” he said, “at the end of the second quarter, the books came up a short. His nephew, who is in charge of the Pension Fund, was seen at the race track and in Atlantic Cit
