CAPONE—KING OF CRIME

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume LV, Issue 17452, 29 December 1930, Page 10

CAPONE—KING OF CRIME

£6,000,000 A YEAR STORY OP A SELF-MADE MAN Beer and liquor ... ... £l2£op,ooo (lamblim; establishments and (log tracks ... ... .£5.000,000 Vice, dance, halls, roadhouses .and other resorts £2,000,000 Rackets (blackmailing industries) £2,000,000 Total annual income ... £21,0(M),000 To police, ' judges, gangstc,s, dc. ... ... ... £15,000,000 Net annual profit for Capone (estimated) ... £6,C00,000 This balance-sheet sets the keynote to one of the most remarkable documents in the literature of crime: a new American book charmingly entitled, “A! Capone: The Biography of a Self-Made Man.” Here the authentic story of gangland’s king, tolcl by a Chicago reporter, Fred D. Pasley, is set out for the edification of a wondering world, in all its savagery and horror. And, regarded as entertainment or as a study in national corruption, it is of enthralling interest. Even readers grown weary of gangster films and plays will be astonished by this record of the organisation of crime as one of America s great'industries. Here, with documentary evidence and a wealth of quotations from gangsters, police records and coroners’ findings—in the story of every gangster the coroner has the last word is set down in black and white the facts about the rise of an obscure Italian, at the age of 52, to the highest pinnacle a criminal ever scaled. FROM NEW YORK'S SLUM'S 1 n 1923 Capone was a New York hoodlum belonging to the Five Points gang (still remembered for the Decker murder and the names of Gyp the Blood, Leftv Louie, and Dago Frank).

Tlibn Chicago’s ablest. gangster, Jolmnv Torvio, picked him for lieuteriunfc. In duo course Torrio was himself shot clown, and, on recovery, fled to Brooklyn. But Capone, unlike every other gang leader, has eluded the assassin, and- to-day he enjoys a greater income than any' other man in the United States, controls an army of criminals and racketeers, and owns judges, politicians, and detectives body and soul. It is a fantastic story, host told in tlio idiom of gangland. “Capone,” we read, “had quit school in the fourth grade to help his parents in the .struggle for existence iri the slums; had learned to prowl the streets and alleys with- the sharp wits of those who begin as mischievous gamins, pillaging vegetable carts, and end as wharf rats, looting trucks and warehouses. Ho soon commanded respect by reason of his lighting ability and fast thinking . . . He. was a demon in action, whether with lists or gat (gun). The New York police had already, ’questioned .him in two murders.” “CRIME DOESN’T BAY” Capone amply justified Torrio’s choice. In seven years lie raised the gross income of the gang from £20,C00 a. year to over £20,000,000. “He admits to-day, though, that iho happiest part of his Chicago career was the period of comparative impecunious anonymity when lie didn’t have to wear a steel-plated vest; when there were no enemies to offer as high as £IO,OOO for his death —when he could sleep nights. Capone is one who will tell you,, in no moralising way, that crime doesn’t pay. And if you ask him why lie doesn’t retire he will answer, ‘Once in, there is no out.’ ”

Capone made his business debut in two roles. At 2222 South Wabashavenue he ran a four-storey house devoted to fifty-seven different forms of criminal enterprise. “No slumming parties ever visited the Four Deuces. It was too tough. Twelve murders had been committed there —and never solved.”

His other role (required as an alibi) was that of a dealer in second-hand furniture. Capone in those days was not the hail-fellow-well-met public personage with the steely smile that ho is to-day. He was “churlish, disputatious . . . . a diamond in the rough. The urbane Torrio applied himself to polishing him off. He instructed him in the. social graces and in the art of dissembling one’s thoughts. He taught hint the commercial value of the bland smile and the ready handshake.”

CRIME AND THE LAW Capone learned slowly, and was charged with carrying weapons and threatening a humble taxi-driver. But he had already established' what Chicago calls' the “hook-up”—the alliance of crime with the law.

“lie did not even appear in court. The charges were 'mysteriously dropped, expunged from the record. The fix was in. The political hook-up was functioning. ITl'ie hook-up. The story begins and ends with it. The red thread* of the Capone career is strung on it. Back of the machine and sawod-ott' shot-gun crews, ne.vvjng the arm of the assassin and the thug; riding at the wheel of every death car; exploiting crime and its spoils—the hook-up.” Crime began as the law’s partner; it soon became undisputed master. How completely the gangsters ruled may be judged from the fate of some ambitious young policemen who seized the weapons of some of Capone’s gang. “Wo got these oil' the - gang," they told their commanding officer. “Who gave such orders? Take that stuff' hack,” lie said.

Soon the young officers were advised that they were in had and might) he transferred to the hush. They should see Capone. lie received them at G.H.Q. “Well,” he said, “I understand your captain wasn’t to blame, and that you, boys just nihdo a mistake. I’m going to give you a break (a chance). After this, don’t pull another boner.” Again, a henchman having been lulled into court and held contrary to his expressed wishes, Capone barked at one of tho clerical staff' at G.H.Q. : “Get me Judge .” When the judge was on tho wire, Capone, without preliminary; said : “I thought! I told you to discharge that fellow.”

“Oh,” was tho reply, “I was off the bench that day. I wrote a memo, for Judge —' — and .my bailiff forgot to deliver it.”

‘•Forgot! Don't let him forget again

Tho tableau is typical of America's surrender to the reign of murder, blackmail, and commercialised vice. There, with crime at one end of the wire and justice trembling at the other, we may leave them.