Memories (3)

Shifu later found out that the big man was Roy DeMeo. The other two were goons from DeMeo's crew. That was Liu Shifu's first encounter with the man who eventually became his godfather in crime.

Shifu came up with the money, and he let his anger simmer quietly inside him. But he soon found that dealing with the mob would be an occupational hazard he'd just have to live with if he intended to stay in the porno business, and as time passed, he came to learn how the Mafia operated.

The beating DeMeo had given him was business, nothing personal, and since he'd come up with the money on time, all was forgiven. So much so that Shifu ended up becoming partners with the man who gave him the deep scar in his forehead, which he vowed to himself he would never forgive or forget.

By the mid-seventies Shifu and DeMeo had an office at 225 Lafayette Street in lower Manhattan, just around the corner from the film labs. By then DeMeo had become a major player in the pornography business, operating a network of bookstores and sex clubs around the country. Shifu supervised a small staff of people who viewed, selected, and mass-produced porno films, while DeMeo took care of distribution through his bookstores.

During this period DeMeo came to appreciate Shifu's abilities. Shifu was intimidating in size and demeanor, and he wasn't afraid to do whatever was necessary, be it with his fists or with a gun. Eventually DeMeo started subcontracting ''little jobs" to Shifu. Collecting from deadbeat loan shark customers who had fallen behind in their payments etc.

But there was one problem: Shifu's temper. Shifu, who had already killed out of anger several times by this point in his life, had a hard time walking the line between physical intimidation and mortal violence, and a dead deadbeat wasn't any good to anyone.

"Shifu!" DeMeo said to him one day, ''You just don't have the temperament for this kind of work. A leg breaker needs to have a little restraint. But don't worry about it. I got some jobs you'd be perfect for." So under DeMeo's tutelage Liu Shifu learned how to kill for profit and became a hit man for the mob.

Their association was a very profitable one. At the time the minimum price for a professional hit was forty thousand dollars, but it didn't take long before Shifu's reputation brought his price up to twice that figure.

Still, despite their success together, Shifu was never totally at ease around DeMeo.

By the early eighties the mobster's mood swings had become more sudden and irrational.

DeMeo wanted to be respected as a traditional ''man of honor," but in fact, he was a loose cannon, and his erratic ways kept him from rising in the Gambino hierarchy. He was tolerated only because he brought in a lot of money for the family. But the crew he had assembled was not the typical band of proven earners. Instead he had put together a pack of obedient bloodthirsty hounds for himself.

When Roy DeMeo said, "Kill," they killed.

No hesitation.

And though Liu Shifu did a lot of 'jobs' for DeMeo and earned a lot of money for the mobster, he was not an official member of DeMeo's crew. To DeMeo he was an outsider.

One night in Dracula's apartment behind the Gemini Lounge, Shifu was having coffee with DeMeo and a few of his crew members, discussing Corvettes. DeMeo wanted Shifu to get as many as he could.

There was a big demand for them in the Middle East, where he'd been shipping stolen luxury cars and selling them for a nice profit. Shifu said he had a few guys in north Jersey who could steal brand-new Corvettes right off the lot.

Shifu was in the middle of assuring DeMeo that he could get him whatever car he wanted when he suddenly realized that everybody had moved to the other side of the room behind Roy, and they were all smiling these weird little smiles. DeMeo was holding an Uzi machine pistol fitted with a silencer. It was leveled at Shifu.

"Hey, Shifu, how would you like me to pull the trigger?"

Shifu had no idea what he'd done to deserve this, but by this time in his life he'd been in DeMeo's position many times. He knew the rush you felt holding a gun on someone, the adrenaline high of total control over another human being. Sitting there in Dracula's House of Horrors, where they cut and packaged people like Italian sausage, Shifu did the only thing he thought he could do: take the joy out of it for Roy.

He activated [Aura] and looked DeMeo straight in the eye: "It's up to you, Roy. I have no control over the situation. Do what you want.'' He made it sound as if he didn't care one way or the other.

DeMeo's grin collapsed. He sneered and glared, then lowered the Uzi and tossed it on the table. He forced a laugh and looked around the room at all his men. "Hahaha no wonder they call you the Angel of Death you've got some balls on you," he announced.

The crew laughed with their leader and made like it was all a big joke.

But Liu Shifu knew better. He'd ruined it for Roy. He'd stolen the moment. There was no thrill in killing someone who didn't care.

Dracula poured more coffee, and the men returned to their seats. DeMeo shook his finger at Shifu and warned him with a twisted grin: ''One of these days, Shifu, one of these days. Either I'm gonna kill you or you're gonna kill me. Believe it."

Shifu shrugged as he spooned sugar into his coffee. ''Whatever you say, Roy."

…..

On January 10, 1983, Roy DeMeo missed an appointment with his uncle. He also missed a birthday party for one of his children that evening, which worried his family. It wasn't like Roy to miss a family event like that. A week and a half later his maroon coloured Cadillac was discovered in the parking lot of a boat club in Brooklyn.

When the police opened the trunk—four weeks after Li Xian's bloated body was found under the bed at the York Motel in New Jersey—they found Roy DeMeo's body, frozen stiff from the winter cold. He'd been shot five times, encrusted wounds behind both ears.

A chandelier was draped over his body.

Law enforcement authorities were still trying to decipher the possible symbolism of the chandelier.