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Conqueror's End. A careful man who never smoked or drank, Martini seldom visited his empire, and, when he did, was surrounded by bodyguards. While his wife whisked about Paris in a snow-white Chevrolet Bel Air and spent her evenings backstage at the Folies Pigalle, Martini stayed snugly at home in the suburban chateau, where every visitor was screened by three ham-handed Arab thugs. The empire was briery threatened last spring when a Corsican hood named Michel Defendin loudly announced his intention of "conquering the Place Pigalle." This threat evaporated last month when Defendin was found lying on the Place Pigalle with three bullets in his chest.
Last week Martini was buried with Moslem solemnity. His wife is his sole heir, and Paris wondered whether Helene Martini would sell and run, or stay and fight for her neon inheritance. At week's end she gave her answer. "I am keeping my husband's business," said Helene firmly. In a warning to Corsican and North African rivals, she added "I will fight them all. I am by nature a fighter."