Generalissimo of Gangsters

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 726, 27 July 1929, Page 20

Generalissimo of Gangsters

YOUNG ALPHONSE CAPONE had a dream of youth setting out to t 'ale he high places and treading the footsteps of the best and greatest of men. ,

He had a twisted vision of success. Ho saw life through the shadows of the underworld. And as his own shadow grew greater, his vaulting am bitiori saw himself, “Searface” Al, the boss of all bootleggers, the rajah of rum-runners, the sole ruler of a state within the State, beyond the law and rivalling in wealth and power the kings created in America by industry, invention and honest labour. He now sits facing the blank walls of a cell in Holmesburg Prison in Philadelphia. TIME TO PONDER By his sudden arrest and conviction for carrying a gun, “Searface” has before him months of leisure to ponder over the future of a gangster. For a year at least there will be no grand parties iu his Miami mansion. His palatial lodge, surrounded by 600 acres of Wisconsin forest, must be finished without the owner’s supervision. And his luxurious haunts in

Chicago will miss the lavish hospitality of their lord. His eight by fifteen cell is walled on three sides, the iron gate to the corridor is covered by a wooden door with a ventilating square at the top, and at 9 o’clock the lights are put out, whether he likes it or not. CONSTANT DANGER

Capone may receive letters, duly censored, without limit, but is permitted to send only two a month. All standard magazines direct from the publishers are permitted, and anv books from the circulation librarymay be obtained.

The law officers of his own town, who have never been able to place Capone behind the bars, suggest that the gangster was eager to take this kind of a vacation from his “business," but gaol officers say the gang leader has the appearance of a disconsolate and soured man. Capone has his moments of frankness. He is a man who likes people when they do not cross him. Constant danger and everlasting imminence of death move him occasionally to lift the mask and show that the life of a king of gangland is not so glamorous as it appears. Capone opened liis heart to the

Director of Public Safety of Philadelphia, like this: “I went into the racket in Chicago four and a-half years ago. During the last two years I’ve been trying to get out. But, once in the racket, you’re always in it, it seems. The parasites trail you, begging for favours and money, and you can never get away from them, no matter where you go. I have a wife and an 11-year-old hoy I iodlise and a beautiful home at Palm Island, Fla. “If I could go there and forget it all, I would be the happiest man in the world. I want peace and lam willing to live and let live. I’m tired of gang murders and gang shootings. “With the idea in mind of making peace among the gangsters of Chicago, I spent the week prior to my arrest in Atlantic City, and I have the word of each of the men participating that there shall be no more shootings. THE GANG WAR “I have been asked how I fared in the gang war in Chicago, whether the odds were in my favour. Well, my answer is this: I’m satisfied, but it’s an awful life to live. “You fear death every moment and worse than death. You fear the rats of the game, who would run around and tell the police if you didn't constantly satisfy them with money and favours. I never was able to leave my house without my bodyguard, Kline. He lives with me and has gone with me constantly during the last two years. “I haven’t had peace of mind in years. Every minute I was in danger of death. Even when I'm on a peace errand I must hide even to the point of concealing my identity under an assumed name iu hotels and elsewhere. What am I doing now” I’m retired and living on my money.” Capone prefers to think of his occupation as a business, not a racket. He cannot understand the agitation against him. As a matter of fact, he considers himself something in the nature of a public benefactor. SUPPLYING POPULAR DEMAND "All I have ever done,” he told his inquirers, “is to supply a popular demand. When the United States went more or less dry there were 7,000 saloons in Chicago, and the town ! and its suburbs spent something like j £16,000,000 a year for beer and I liquor. You can't cure thirst by law. S

“They Call me a bootlegger. I'll agree that it's bootleg while on the trucks, but when your host at the club hands it to you, it's hospitality.”