Milk Thicker Than Blood
The suite on the top floor of the Lexington Hotel. Even after Lee Jun had finished his report and left, Al Capone and Frank Nitti remained in their seats, staring at each other.
It was Al Capone who broke the silence first.
"Frank."
"Yes, Boss."
"You seem to be quite bothered by Lee lately."
It was a short sentence, but it was enough to strike at the heart of the matter and cause Nitti’s expression to stiffen.
"...He is breaking the traditions of the organization. And he’s doing it as an Oriental, not even of Italian blood. What protects this organization is guns and loyalty, not money."
That was the path Nitti had walked his entire life—the man who had earned the nickname "The Enforcer" for wiping out countless rival gangs in Chicago.
"That’s how it’s been until now. That was Mr. Torrio’s teaching as well."
Since they were young, the two had built the organization to this point according to the teachings of their boss and mentor, Torrio. Because that fact remained unchanged, Capone’s eyes, as he looked at Nitti—his long-time colleague and subordinate—were filled with regret.
"Boss, that is exactly why we cannot leave him be..."
"However."
It wasn't that he intended to leave the problem alone, though.
"The times are changing, Frank. We are approaching an era where guns alone cannot protect the organization. You saw how the Moran gang and their lot met their downfall, didn't you?"
At Capone’s words, Nitti’s expression darkened. As the boss said, it wasn't the Outfit’s brute force that had brought down the North Side gang, which had once split Chicago with them. Frank recalled who it was that had crushed them without shedding a drop of blood, using money, power, and paperwork instead of guns and fists.
'Lee Jun.'
When he first met him, he had thought of him as nothing more than a guy who got lucky because of the boss’s illegitimate child. He couldn't understand why the son of an Oriental laundry owner, who didn't even have the strength to properly knock a man down, had to be brought into the organization.
'And yet, before I knew it, he began threatening my position.'
There were two reasons Nitti wanted to keep Lee Jun in check. One was the fear of seeing the organization’s traditions broken and twisted. The other was the fear that he might lose his own place. In the end, Nitti was afraid of him.
"For now, thanks to Lee, we’ve chased off the IRS, but the Feds will try to find any excuse to throw you, me, and the organization into prison. I don't think they’ll be able to pull it off, but if they do, the organization will be severely crippled."
"We can just buy off the politicians like we do now."
"I thought so too, until now... but watching how Lee handles things, I’ve realized there are politicians who don't have a price tag."
"......."
"Lee is the only one in our organization who can stand up to such hypocrites. His way of doing things... it’s different from ours, but it is clearly helping the organization survive."
Capone’s gaze met Nitti’s as he continued.
"So, Frank, try to learn Lee’s methods. If that’s too difficult, at least don't get in his way. I will be the one to hold his leash."
"Boss."
"I don't want to lose you. You are capable enough, and you’ve been loyal to the organization for a long time. But... remember that if you try to hinder the organization’s growth, I won't be able to just stand by."
"...I will keep that in mind, Boss."
"Good. Now, get out."
As Al Capone nodded toward Nitti, who bowed his head, Nitti turned and walked out of the suite. Left alone, Capone took a puff of his cigar.
"Hoo."
Exhaling the smoke to clear his cluttered mind, Capone placed the cigar in the ashtray and stared at the ceiling.
"...I suppose it’s time to start cleaning things up."
Meyer Lansky’s response upon my return wasn't exactly clear-cut.
"Governor Franklin... that won't be easy. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but he’s the type of fellow who doesn't care much for our kind."
"So I’ve heard."
I’d picked up a rough idea before coming here. He was a man who built his political standing on integrity and honesty—or, to borrow my father-in-law’s expression, a "hypocrite." It made sense for him to be cautious, as even a mere touch from someone in the underworld could end his political career.
My situation, however, was a little different.
"Still, wouldn't the Governor find it hard to block an approach made through legal channels?"
Aside from the minor drawback that the investor was Al Capone, the eighth wonder of the criminal world, our SCC and SMC were good companies that only engaged in legal business. As for where the discarded ethanol ended up? Well, that wasn't something I needed to know.
"Hmm... if it’s Mr. Lee, it might be possible. You’ve already formed such deep ties with the government that you’ve succeeded in military contracts; you’re effectively half-in the light already."
Lansky pondered my question for a moment before nodding and continuing.
"Even so, it will take a significant amount of time and money to make the connection. The connections we have... well, they aren't exactly the kind the Governor favors."
It seemed New York had its own friends whose brains were pickled in bribes, just like Mayor Thompson. I suppose that explained why they turned a blind eye even when gangs much larger than ours were having shootouts in the middle of New York every single day.
Of course, that wasn't the problem to worry about right now.
"Naturally, I’m not asking you to do this for free. Is there something you want?"
Since he wouldn't do this for nothing, I had to dangle a bone in front of him to ensure a smooth transaction. I had a rough idea of what he wanted, but I had to hear it from him first.
"Hmm... there is something. Do you remember what you mentioned last time, Mr. Lee?"
"The bald..."
"Pardon?"
That was a close one.
"Ahem. No, I meant the discussion about splitting the East and West."
To be precise, it was a proposal to guarantee our position in the commission of gangs that would eventually—likely within a few years—be formed. In exchange, our organization would provide support to the "Young Turks" led by Luciano.
"It seems it’s about time for you to keep that promise."
"I didn't think you’d need it so soon."
The war between the two New York factions wasn't supposed to start until next year, was it?
"The conflict with Maranzano’s side is already at its peak. At this rate, it wouldn't be strange if a war broke out at any moment. Something will happen by next year at the latest."
Hmm, so they were still just testing the waters? If that was the case, there was room to intervene.
"Is it possible?"
"As it happens, the proposal I wanted to make is related to that."
I nodded.
"I’ve recently started a new business."
"A new business?"
"I’m selling milk."
"...Milk?"
Ah, so the news hadn't reached this far yet. Well, it was only being sold in Chicago, so it would be strange if word had gotten around.
"Is that... some kind of slang used in Chicago? Like vodka or something..."
I shook my head at Lansky, who wore a look of utter confusion.
"No, we are genuinely supplying milk throughout Chicago through legal methods."
There might have been a bit of illegality mixed into the process, but the children drinking the milk wouldn't know, so it would be fine. Yes.
"...The profits must be decent."
"We’re selling much fresher milk than what was previously available, so we’re making quite a bit of money. Since we’re using the same transport networks we used for bootlegging, the costs haven't been that high. It’s a completely legal business, so the costs for hush money have dropped significantly, too."
"Hmm, interesting. Milk... that’s a business model I never would have imagined..."
He seemed interested now. Time to get to the real proposal.
"This is exactly what I want to propose."
"...By this, you mean the milk?"
"Yes. To be precise, we set up a company that covers the New York area by splitting the shares. Shouldn't the kids in New York also be drinking fresh, chilled milk instead of spoiled milk? Our boss is very fond of children, you see."
Regardless, unlike Chicago, the Italian gangs—the Mafia—held much stronger power in New York. If we expanded our territory and it looked like we were encroaching on theirs, the two New York organizations would likely fight the Chicago Outfit as a common enemy instead of fighting each other. It would be much more advantageous to join hands with them and proceed together.
Of course, that wasn't the entirety of the proposal.
"I appreciate the offer, but as I said, with war looming, it won't be easy to jump into a new business."
"That is exactly why I’m making the proposal."
"Please explain so I can understand."
"We’ll likely have to send milk directly from Chicago while the system is being established. And, who’s to say there might not be something else inside the milk crates arriving in New York by train? Someone might even be riding along to transport them."
In other words, the milk business in New York would serve as a new revenue stream while simultaneously acting as a cover and justification for sending support to Luciano. If our milk factory or trucks were attacked, we could use that as a pretext to intervene in the war in New York.
Besides, if we were going to join hands anyway, creating a connection was a way to increase mutual trust. A blood alliance forged through milk, if you will. No, to be precise, it should be a Lacteal Alliance.
Luciano, Lansky, and I might not share blood, but couldn't milk be thicker than blood?
"Hmm, I see what you mean."
Lansky seemed to understand my point, stroking his chin and nodding.
"I think it’s a proposal that isn't bad for either of us. It’s also a way for us to keep the promise we made."
"I’m looking at it positively as well. I never expected the medium to be milk... but if the profits are good, there’s no reason to refuse. The money coming from this will be clean, too."
Lansky finished speaking and began jotting something down on a piece of paper. Soon, he took his hand off the note and opened his mouth.
"First, you’ll need to provide a concrete explanation regarding the profits. After I hear that, if I think it’s appropriate, I’ll go back and talk to Charlie. I’ll mention the Governor issue as well."
"Excellent. Then, let’s start with a brief overview of the profits."
I nodded and pulled out the data regarding SMC’s sales from my briefcase. Well, the deal itself should proceed without much trouble. We get to find a new place to sell milk, and they get to receive support from our organization. Since it was a mutually beneficial contract, it likely wouldn't be broken for a while.
Anyway, with this, the external tasks for this year were mostly finished. Now, all that remained was to grow my own faction within the organization. First things first... I’d have to think about what to do with our golden boy, Nitti.