One Million Dollars
After I placed ten hundred-dollar bills into the donation box in both my and Rita's names, the reactions of the people around me shifted slightly.
"Thank you, truly...! To donate such a large sum without a second thought—your spirit will surely hasten the liberation of our motherland!"
Mr. Na Jae-won, who had been guarding the donation box, grasped my hands with a voice that sounded nearly choked with tears.
"Jun, you... you've changed a lot since I last saw you. That is by no means a small amount of money, and to show such interest in patriotism at your age."
"The other students studying abroad should take after you. You've done a truly noble thing!"
Mr. Kim Gyeong and Mr. Kang Yeong-so were equally astonished.
"Jun. I heard the young lady you're marrying is from the Capone family. How did you come to know them?"
"Ah, well, it just sort of happened..."
In particular, Mr. Kim Gyeong, a fairly well-known businessman in Chicago, began to take a more active interest in me once he realized I had ties to the Capone family.
That wasn't all, either.
"Jun, eat another bowl here."
"...Um, this is already my third bowl..."
"A man shouldn't whine about such a thing. You must be tired from work, so eat up and keep your strength up."
If I eat any more, I'm going to look like I'm forty.
I wore a troubled expression as I accepted the bowl of rice cake soup offered by the aunties, who had suddenly become so kind. It was better than the sorrow of not being able to eat even a single bowl of soup on New Year's Day, but this was its own kind of suffering.
Well, that wasn't the only problem, though.
"Mr. Lee! Have some of mine, too. A great man needs to eat plenty, doesn't he!"
Lee Min-seok.
The attitude of the man who would one day be called the Gambling King, Jason Lee, had changed 180 degrees in an instant.
"'Mr. Lee,' you say? I'm at this age, what kind of..."
"What are you talking about? You're the man who will become the son-in-law of the prestigious Capone family. You're a man who will do great things in Chicago—no, you're already doing them! Your humility is excessive! Haha!"
Not only had he changed his address from "Jun" to "Mr. Lee," but his demeanor was completely different from the confident figure he had projected just moments ago.
Having just started running his own gambling den, it was understandable that the names "Al Capone" and "Chicago Outfit" felt much heavier to him than to others.
"You're busy with your own business, too, sir. If any problems arise, just give me a quiet heads-up."
"Th-that, is that for real?"
"Chicago is quite volatile these days. Even if we are in America, thousands of miles away, we Koreans should help each other out."
"Indeed, indeed! Thank you for saying that, Mr. Lee!"
"C-could you please drop the 'Mr.' part?"
I didn't want to be called "Mr." by someone only a few years older than me.
"If that's the case, I'll call you my younger brother. Would that be alright?"
"That would be much better. Then I'll call you 'hyung'."
"Of course, brother! I look forward to working with you!"
Could you, um, maybe step back a little?
I feel like I'm going to get indigestion from all the rice cake soup in my stomach as it is.
The New Year's atmosphere continued for three days, but unfortunately, I couldn't rest.
It was because my father-in-law, Al Capone's, tax payment operation had reached its final stage.
"Whew..."
The old warehouse in Cicero, now the office of the building that had become the SCC factory. Thick stacks of documents were piled on a table cluttered with numerous coffee stains and papers.
At the very top of the stack, under a stamp that read [AMENDED], it was written as follows:
[INDIVIDUAL INCOME TAX RETURN]
It was none other than the tax returns for my father-in-law and myself.
"Anyway... we're finished."
There was a mix of love and hate in Gu-jik's eyes as he stared at the pile of damn returns.
"Fortunately, we won't be late for the wedding."
I let out a sigh of relief after glancing at the clock on the wall.
It was dawn, before the sun had risen, but if we started preparing busily now, there shouldn't be any major issues.
"I've handled all sorts of documents in my life, but this is the first time I've done a job like this. Faking four years of tax records... if others heard, they'd ask if we'd lost our minds."
"And it seems... we're already halfway there."
Gu-jik replied with a face full of fatigue to Ahern, who was shaking his head with an expression of utter exhaustion.
It couldn't be helped.
The period covered by the returns we created was a total of four years, from 1924 to 1927. Creating records of transactions and the corresponding supporting documents that never existed was, quite literally, like creating a new history from scratch.
Since we had tried to finish that in about a month and a half, it was only natural that it wouldn't go easily.
"For now, all legal reviews are complete. In theory... that is, on paper, it is perfect. However, how the IRS will accept such an unprecedented, massive simultaneous amendment is still an unknown."
"They wouldn't refuse us if we're offering to pay taxes that didn't exist, surely."
I shrugged my shoulders at Ahern, who spoke in a worried voice.
Who would refuse money being offered? Even if it were the federal government, it wouldn't be any different.
The problem wasn't paying the money, but what would happen after we paid it.
"Let's check it one last time. If even a single number is wrong, everything will go up in smoke. There must be no mistakes."
With those words, I rubbed my dim eyes and reached for one of the stacks of returns.
"But... Mr. Lee."
That was when Gu-jik called out to me.
"There is one thing I don't understand."
"What is it?"
"Even if we do it for the Boss... why on earth are you creating such a massive income to report, Mr. Lee? You have nothing to hide, so there's no need to pay extra to the federal guys."
Ahern, the lawyer, nodded as if he had been waiting, adding weight to Gu-jik's words.
"Mr. Gu-jik is right. Mr. Capone's return alone will draw immense attention from the IRS, and if you step forward as well, Mr. Lee, they will surely comb through you and the SCC like they're looking for lice. Is there any need to invite such danger?"
It was true that this method was dangerous.
If we submitted these returns, it was obvious that the fallout wouldn't just stop at my father-in-law, but would splash onto me as well.
However.
"There is. To achieve the purpose of this plan."
That was exactly what I wanted.
"Whew."
Arthur Hedges sighed once more and pushed the stack of documents he had just processed to the side.
The Chicago Internal Revenue Service office, past three in the afternoon, was filled as always with the smell of damp paper dust and the noisy clatter of typewriters.
'Damn, did I eat something bad for lunch?'
"Next!"
Hedges pressed down on his bloated stomach and called the next petitioner.
'I hope they just submit their papers and leave this time. I don't want them to be as annoying as the person before.'
It was just as he was thinking of the petitioner who had argued with him for over 30 minutes that it happened.
Thud-!
At the heavy sound from in front of the window, Hedges instinctively turned his gaze toward the direction of the noise.
And.
'What is this?'
Arthur's eyes widened at the thick stack of documents placed on the counter, which looked at least as thick as an encyclopedia.
Soon, a middle-aged man dressed in a high-end suit from across the counter presented a business card and opened his mouth.
"I am Michael F. Ahern."
"Ah, yes. You're a lawyer. Are you an agent?"
At Hedges' question, the man who introduced himself as Ahern nodded.
"I am here to submit the amended income tax returns for two clients from 1924 to 1927. This is a voluntary declaration of omitted income and payment of additional taxes."
"This is all... a tax return?"
"Supporting documents are included as well."
"Understood, just a moment."
Hedges was momentarily flustered by the thickness of the tax return, something he had never seen in his life, but he soon returned to his role as a skilled clerk, brought the piles of documents to his desk, and checked the names.
And.
[Alphonse Capone]
[June Lee]
"A... Al Capone?"
Hedges couldn't close his mouth after confirming the name of the filer written on the document.
It couldn't be helped.
There wouldn't be a single person in Chicago, or even in all of America, who didn't know the name Alphonse Capone.
He was 'Public Enemy No. 1,' who graced the front page of the newspapers every day, and the king of the underworld who ruled the nights of Chicago.
'But... an amended tax return? Along with a name of an Oriental person I've never heard of in my life?'
He couldn't understand the fact that a man who had been summoned as a witness in court just a few days ago due to tax issues had suddenly brought a return saying he would pay his taxes.
However, the more shocking thing came next.
"Is it correct that you are reporting 8... 800,000 dollars as income? And 200,000 dollars for this one?"
"That is correct."
Gulp.
At the lawyer's calm answer, Hedges swallowed his saliva without realizing it.
Combined, it was a whopping 1 million dollars.
It was an amount so large it was hard to believe an individual would pay it, unless it was a major corporation whose name you'd recognize just by hearing it in America.
On top of that, wasn't the other party 'that' Al Capone?
'This... is not something I can handle.'
"Just a moment, please wait a moment."
Whir-!
Hedges said that, picked up the receiver of the extension phone, and dialed.
-Hedges, what is it? I told you not to bother me...
At the boss's words, who sounded annoyed as soon as he picked up the phone, he opened his mouth cautiously.
"Ah, it's Al Capone."
-...What?
"Al Capone's agent has come to file taxes. From '24 to '27..."
-Damn it. Hedges, don't touch anything and wait. You hear me?
Beep-! Beep-!
As the boss's phone cut off with a string of curses, Hedges closed his eyes tightly without realizing it.
'Please, when will it be time to go home...!'
His bloated stomach felt like it was twisting.