Charlie was well liked threw out Tampa and surrounding areas but the devastating blow he took in both man power and public appearance due to the Bolita Wars put a strain on Charlie’s pockets. Bolita was still pulling in millions. But it costs to be the boss, and Charlie couldn’t fit the bill. Not with the Sicilian shinning star Sam Porello encroaching Charlie’s influence. Sam had money; Sam had the support and man power of the National Crime Syndicate. Charlie's days on top were numbered. He often thought to himself and also to his driver Rolando, Why, Why all his brothels were getting raided, why all his dens were getting smashed up and why, why the hell were all his men now in the pocket of "that dirty Sicilian". Without the police in his pocket Charlie was open to random raids and bust-outs where they come in and smash and bust up everything in the joint. Without the judges in his pocket he was open to prosecution, though he would never be indicted on any crimes in his lifetime. All in all Charlie was losing it all. Most of his business partners were forced to get out of business with him by the IRS or face money laundering and tax evasion charges. He remained silent partners in a few businesses with certain shady individuals who didn’t care of tax evasion charges or any charges as a matter of fact.
One Charlie co-owned was The Dream, an elaborate plush bar and night club fancied by the stars. He was frequently there till close. He would spend his days being driven around Tampa holding court in the many random restaurants he was accustomed, Reyes in tow. His nights rounded out at The Dream. He would spend countless hours drinking. Drinking and drinking, until closing, often heard complaining of a "dirty Sicilian". Yet never saying a name. Not even in a whisper.
Sam and Maria Porello had 5 sons Angelo, Vincent, Sam jr., Carlo and Frank. Angelo would found a thriving franchise pizzeria. Carlo a successful surgeon in California. Frank a very successful attorney representing many highly respected men in the syndicate. Both Vincent and Sam jr. followed their father’s foot steps into the syndicate full speed ahead. But it was Jr who possessed the vicious violent tendencies that resembled the senior. Vincent was mathematically intelligent, but his appetite for vigorous aggression was aptly missing. He was simply soft. He was great at running profitable gambling establishments, and had impeccable political relationships being able to bribe a public official sometimes with conversation alone. But Vincent wasnt a killer. Jr, killed with a passion.
Sam Jr. was born in Tampa, in 1914 the middle of 5 brothers. As his father’s ascend to the throne in the early '40's, young Sam Jr. universally known simply as "Junior", was sent to New York to work for the big bosses of the syndicate. While in New York, Junior was bounced around to different cities, to work with different crews of different families to learn the ins and outs of different rackets and build relationships. In the early '50s an opportunity would arise to propel both Sam Porello's to a brighter star among the Syndicate constellation.
1946 was the first year Junior went to Havana to negotiate gambling on the island. Five years later he was a permanent resident operating 4 Syndicate owned hotel and casinos. Like his father Junior spoke fluent Italian, English and Spanish which gave him a substantial advantage in the syndicate as they moved there gambling operations to South America. Billions of dollars flew across the ocean from Cuba to Miami then out to the 28 Syndicate bosses across the country. Money would be taken out of the counting rooms before it was counted, at all the syndicate owned casinos, then it would be neatly packed in suitcases and personally flown, commercial flight to Miami.
Charlie enjoyed the proceeds of his gambling dens; he still had a hand on bolita. Not in, with Reyes by his side, Charlie never lost his grip on the bolita racket in Florida. Many had tried to push him out, but trusty Rolando Reyes would prove time and time again to be the ever dotting soldier Charlie needed him to be. Whether it was a shooting intent on scaring someone, extortion, assault down to cold blooded murder, Reyes was trusted and accounted on to handle the tasks at hand. But no matter how much he was bringing in, come the mid '50s, Charlie McKall couldn’t compete with the ever growing Porello family or the National Crime syndicate which they represented. Charlie had big pockets. Charlie had Rolando Reyes. Charlie had a big mouth.
While Junior was riding high on the octane of royalty in the nightlife of Havana, his father was ailing from stomach cancer and hearing allot of rumors. For months Reyes had been complaining to his bookie how he was under paid by his employer, none other than Charlie McKall, and how he couldn’t stop telling anyone in ear shot about "the dirty Sicilian" as Charlie often put it. Junior would be called back home the summer of '54 to aid his father in his final days.
Junior was not a man who took words kindly. Charlie spit off verbal text disillusioned from most people. Charlie chuckled and talked about peoples plights like comical jesters. Junior rarely had to speak; merely a nod is sometimes all that was required. If Charlie didn’t like you, he told everyone. If Junior didn’t like you, you moved or went missing. With Sam Sr. on his death bed dying of stomach cancer, it was said he made two requests, both to be followed exactly. Junior would replace him as Florida’s top guy.....and kill Charlie McKall.