Operation Underworld (34 page)

Labour pipelines, such as factories, piers, warehouses and trucking companies, were considered to be the primary targets of enemy agents, ergo much attention was initially directed at these areas by the government operatives. Counter-espionage assignments were determined by potential importance of a given facility to the war effort. However, ammunition storage facilities and shipping firms in support of those installations were poorly monitored or ignored altogether in the early phases of the operation.

“Meyer, we gotta talk right now!” The voice on the other end of the telephone line expressed a sense of urgency Lansky was unable to ignore.

“Johnny! Where the hell you at? What’s wrong?”

“How soon can you be at Carlucci’s, the one on the West Side?”

“’bout an hour. Why?” Lansky was puzzled, but knew Johnny Dunn, whose father had fought in the Easter Rising in Dublin, was not one prone to panic.

That afternoon in the back room of the Italian American Club on Mott Street, Lansky himself met with Haffenden.

“One of our people from the West Side says that your security at the receiving station for the Piccatinny Arsenal is terrible.”

“Bullshit! We got armed guards all over the place.” Haffenden was incensed.

“You do, huh?” Lansky reached into a burlap bag he had under the table and produced a detonator for a 2,000 lb blockbuster.

He threw it across the table and Haffenden jumped up, his chair tumbling to the floor. Several of the clubs regulars took mild notice.

“Don’t worry. It’s been deactivated. We got it from the main stores bunker in Area Seven.” Lansky made his pronouncement in a matter-of-fact fashion in order to emphasise his point. The Commander righted his chair and eyed the detonator.

“Some asshole could waltz right in there and plant a bomb on one of your outgoing supply ships. I ain’t no sailor, but I think if New York Harbor got blocked up by a sunk boat… ferget about it!”

“We’ll… rectify the situation.” Haffenden was pleasantly surprised by Lansky’s initiative and enthusiasm as he stared at the detonator.

The food service, housekeeping and entertainment industries were no less affected by the increased anti-spy effort. Restaurants, hotels and nightclubs were descended upon by eager, dedicated agents posing as waiters, porters and hat check girls.

For a brief period in New York history, there was no way to tell if your fedora was being babysat by a kid working part time waiting for her next audition, or guarded with all the might of the US Government.

However, the success of these infiltration measures was not due to the far-reaching power of the Federal Government. It was due, instead, to the far-reaching power of its purported sworn enemy and latest business partner, organised crime.

With orchestration from Lucky Luciano, the lieutenants swiftly formed an intricate network of co-operating union factions. Factions who previously were hostile to one another.

The establishment of this network, which reached from the Canadian boarder to Florida and as far west as Ohio, allowed union credentials, papers, ID cards and financial records, to flow freely across interstate boundaries, oblivious to local, state and federal restrictions.

The Unione Siciliano was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and with their new-found, interstate freedom, many other commodities flowed freely across the boarders as well. Booze, cigarettes and clothing topped the list, and within a week, all were flowing in record scale.

The boys were back in town.

Lucky, accompanied by two guards, walked past the trustee mopping the floor on his way to the warden’s office. Lansky and Polakoff were already there and the warden had received strict instructions to leave when their meeting began.

The trustee averted his bruised face as Luciano walked by. It was the slightly-built prisoner who had passed the comment at the dinner table.

“You get the problems straightened out about comin’ up here?” Lucky asked, after the warden closed the door behind him.

“Yeah. Polakoff worked somethin’ out.” The conversation was casual and unhurried. Polakoff sat in the corner with a newspaper, doing a crossword puzzle.

“How’s Albert A. doin?”

“He went under.”

“He’s hidin’ out? Where?”

“You ready for this? The Army. He joined up.”

“Good place ta hide.” Lucky smiled and shook his head. “All the shipments come in?”

“Everything right on time.”

“Any problems I need to know about?”

“You’d be proud, boss. Unprecedented co-operation. It’s like they’re all pulling in the same direction.”

“Dat’s good news.” Lucky leaned in and spoke a little lower to Lansky, despite the fact that they continued in Sicilian.

“I been doin’ some thinkin’. This is a pretty convenient arrangement. But it ain’t gonna last forever.”

“How’dya mean?” Meyer asked.

“No matter if they catch spies or not, sooner or later some politician is gonna figure it don’t look too good youse guys comin’ up here all the time.”

“I follow. You sayin’ we should look for spies all the time?”

“Nah, dat ain’t important. We can always come up wit a few spies if they need ’em. What I’m sayin’ is, we need to come up with a plan to reconsolidate and rebuild soon.”

“Things are comin’back together pretty good right now. Whata ya wanna do different?”

“I mean a big plan, fer after the war.”

“Who the hell knows when this thing is gonna blow over?”

“Who cares? But it will, and when it does we gotta be ready.

No matter who wins, things ain’t never gonna be da same again. Da old markets are gonna shift or dry up and new markets are gonna hav’ta be opened up.”

“You already got some’a those ‘new markets’ in mind, don’t ya?” Lansky studied Lucky’s face.

“Yeah, I do. But what I’m woikin’on is way too big fer just one family.”

“We need a council,” Meyer said as he began to cop on.

“Exactly. Contact all the heads. Don’t tell ’em why until they show. The Camardos’ll get ya a warehouse on the Brooklyn side. Then get a hold of our friends in Naples. Tell them to contact me. Only me! Got it?”

“I’m with ya.”

“Set it up fer tomorrow or Thursday and then get back up here and I’ll give ya an agenda and tell ya what to say,” Lucky instructed.

“That won’t work out.”

“Why not?”

“Part of Polakoff’s deal is he can only come here once a week.”

“Shit!”

“Look, with the word from you, we know they’re gonna show up.” Lucky listened and nodded as Lansky suggested an alternate course of action.

“Tell me what you got in mind. Tell me what you want them to know. I’ll call the meet this week, we’ll give them a couple days ta think about it and I’ll be back up next week.”

“Sounds okay, but dat don’t give us much time ta contact Naples. And I’m worried some’a de utter heads may not go fer it.”

“I’ll get a wire off to the guys on the other side today, and phone them tonight. As far as the other heads, does it involve makin’ money?” Lansky asked.

Lucky smiled and sat upright before he answered. “It’ll be the rebirth of the Family. They’ll be enough dough ta keep your gran’kids going,” Lucky assured Meyer.

“Then they’ll go fer it. Anything else?”

“Yeah. I got a parole hearing next week. If the board knows I’m helpin’ da country, it might carry some weight. De’re no doubt keepin’ records of dees visits, but dat prick DA will move ta keep dem from bein’introduced. Just in case dey get cute an try sayin’ day lost ’em or somethin’, you keep detailed records of dees visits and how we talked about catchin’ spies ’n stuff.”

“Piece a cake.” Lansky stood and shook hands with Lucky. Polakoff picked up on the signal and called for the guard. A few minutes later the warden, who had been in the room next door, appeared and escorted the visitors back downstairs.

Doc leaned against the flat wall of The Castle Memorial and watched the morning visitors as they strolled by, read newspapers or lined up for the boat ride out to Liberty Island.

He adjusted his position and continued to scan the crowd. A smile gradually came across his face and he walked away from the memorial, north across Battery Park towards the fire boat house.

Louie, who was sitting on a bench reading a newspaper, saw Doc approaching, and smiled when Doc sat down next to him.

“So? Pretty good, huh? Took ya almost ten minutes ta pick me out! What gave it away?”

Doc casually took the paper, folded it up and handed it back to him. “When you pretend to read a paper, do it like this. Nobody reads a paper full open like that.” Louie said nothing. “And don’t use yesterday’s paper.”

“Anything else?”

“You did good. But think real hard next time you want to blend in somewhere. Be careful of the details. What day is your test next week?”

“Friday morning.”

“Maybe we should lay off some of these street skills. Ya know, give ya more time at the books?”

“I’m sick a them books, Doc! Besides, I got ’em mesmerised. They’re all up here.” Louie tapped his head. “I like this blendin’ in stuff, it’s fun. By the way, how’s it going with Nikki?”

“Tell Doris it’s going good with Nikki, thanks for askin’. We’re gettin’ together this weekend.”

“I like her, she reminds me of Maxine Andrews. Don’t tell her I said that!”

“Alright, let’s talk about what’s on your test.”

Doc and Louie sat on the bench for half an hour looking out over the harbour, discussing details of the material Louie would be tested on to get his New York State Private Investigator’s licence.

“Good job,” Doc complimented Louie as he stood up. “C’mon, we gotta get back before lunch. We got a call yesterday from a potential client. We’re meetin’ her at noon.”

“Hey, Doc! I got an idea!”

“How come all of a sudden I don’t feel so good?”

“No, really. Instead of catchin’ the subway back, let’s walk over to State Street and up Broadway. You stay behind me, I’ll pick a guy out, you watch me tail ’em? How ’bout it?”

“Louie, how old are you?”

“Why?”

“What does Doris say when you act like a little kid?” Doc smiled.

“C’mon! It’s only half past ten, we got plenty of time.”

“Okay Dashiell, let’s go.” The two walked north and after about five minutes, when in front of the Cunard Building on lower Broadway, Doc slowed his pace.

“What’s up, Doc? Jeez, I’ve always wanted ta say that!”

“Yeah, and you’re the first one ever to say it, too!” Doc had now stopped walking altogether and was looking up in the air. “Louie, we’re gonna do this one a little different.”

“Great!” Louie watched Doc peering up at the Renaissance-inspired building as if looking for something.

“Okay, this place’ll do.” Doc nodded at Louie and led him into the vaulted, ornate lobby of the building.

“Doc! Where we goin’?” Louie was gaping at the elaborate murals of mythical sea creatures and wooden masted ships.

“We’re gonna punch a ticket. C’mon.”

“You flipped or what?” Despite his protests Louie went along with Doc. Once inside the building, Louie became more persistent.

“Doc, what the hell we doin’? I thought we was havin’ a tailin’ lesson?”

Doc ignored Louie as someone exited the lobby and he watched a reflection in a glass pane in one of the doors which opened out onto the avenue. He saw the image he was looking for.

“We are, Louie.” Doc quickly removed his jacket. “Give me your coat. Hurry!” Doc stuck his cap on Louie’s head and climbed into the overcoat. Louie looked at Doc.

“Doesn’t work without the bowlin’ shoes, Doc. What the hell are we doin’?”

“You said you wanted to be more like me someday. Here’s your chance.”

“Yeah, but I was drunk.”

Doc ushered Louie over to the second set of double doors which led to the inner building. “Stand here, face that way. Don’t move.”

Doc hurried back over to the main doors, faced into the corner and pretended to be searching his pockets. Just as Doc assumed his position, a tall man came through the doors and stopped next to him. He was unsure what to do next as he stared at the painting of the beautiful woman on the back of the bomber jacket. Just then Louie turned around.