King: Cocksure
Chapter XV
This novel include graphic sex scenes, some involving minors, rape and forced sex. It is purely a fantasy and is not depicting real people or events. It is intended as a satire and is meant to be both funny and stimulating. The stories have a political slant as you will see. I hope you enjoy them. New chapters will be published as they are finished.
(Mffffffffff)
Augur Well Inaugural?
Great-grandpa Mortuse Krilenko spread his empire of brothels down the West Coast from Alaska over the next couple of decades after moving to Anchorage.
He became the undisputed king of the sex business in the West in this era before the Mafia came to dominate the business. He fathered many children over this period but his son Vlostock was his favorite and choice to continue to run the family business when he came of age. Vlostock carried the family gene and while not as big physically as Mortuse, his cock looked bigger because it was every bit as big as Mortuse's but on a smaller body. Vlostock, unlike Mortuse, was well educated. Great-grandpa made sure Vlostock got into the best schools and insisted that he use all the tools at his disposal, not just his dick. It was a proud day in 1927 when Vlostock graduated near the top of his class from Harvard with a PhD in law. He could have gone legit, went to work for a large investment firm on Wall Street, for example. Some said that was exactly what Vlostock wanted to do.
I suspect that Vlostock had enjoyed life amid his father's many brothels and that he did not wish to leave that life behind. Plus he shared his father's ambition and ruthlessness. His first assignment after graduation was to go to Chicago and see what he could do to spread the family business to the Windy City.
It wouldn't be an easy job. Chicago was among the American cities where the Mafia under Johnny Torrio and later Al Capone had spread its tentacles into the sex business. Vlostock knew the risks when he prepared to leave for Chicago.
"Son, you have much greater training than me in the ways of the world but you have enough of me in you to do well in this assignment I am giving you," Mortuse said. "I have heard from some of the girls who have gone from some of our establishments here in Los Angeles that the girls in these places run by these Italian bastards are not treated so well. Some are regularly abused and forced to live like sexual slaves."
"Pops, you want me to do what?" Vlostock said. "Close down these Mafia-run places? Insist the girls are treated more respectfully?"
"No, son, I want that you should provide an alternative that changes conditions there?" said Mortuse. "I am sending along my best assistant, Rashan, to assist you. He and you together will know what to do."
"Pops, I don't think Rashan is going to be much help against a dozen Capone henchmen with tommy guns," said Vlostock.
"Rashan has ways of negotiating that wins men's souls," Mortuse smiled. "You will see. And Capone is not your biggest worry. Our family members you may run into in Chicago may be your biggest worry. Don't turn your back on them."
Rashan was a small dark-skinned man whose ancestors came from mountains in the north of India. He had been constantly at Mortuse's side for as long as Vlostock could remember. It seemed strange to Vlostock would even consider doing without his services. Rumor was that when the Chinese mobs in San Francisco tried to push great grandpa out of the sex trade there, Rashan had single-handedly "negotiated" a deal that pacified the Chinese mobsters permanently.
A quiet, unassuming man, Rashan was, for the most part, a mystery to Vlostock. He had a gravitas that gave him an authority that rivaled even Mortuse in any room he entered.
"Rashan," Vlostock told him on the train to Chicago, "I am sorry if my original objections to your making this trip seemed disrespectful, but I hated to see you leave father's side and this does not seem to be an assignment for a man of your talents."
"Vlosty," Rashan said, using the name for Vlostock only he and Rashan dared use. "I am not so fragile that you need to soothe my ego because of imagined slights. I think you will find that my talents are exactly what's needed for this project. I think your father was concerned about your safety."
Vlostock sighed and went back to reading his newspaper. Somehow he didn't think Rashan would protect him from a hail of machine gun bullets. Chicago was still in the grip of Prohibition and the mob violence it engendered. A couple of years earlier, Capone's mobsters had wiped out seven members of a rival gang headed by Bugs Moran. Vlostock and Rashan arrived in Chicago on the anniversary of that massacre which had cemented Capone's control over all crime in the city.
"What do you propose we do first?" Vlostock asked.
"I think we need to recruit some prostitutes," Rashan said, "seeing that they are the lifeblood of every successful brothel."
The ad in the newspaper was unobtrusive, but to the point. It said, "Attractive women wanted for high-paying jobs in clean conditions. Excellent health care. A chance for a better life and to control your own destiny."
In the flapper era, this was a rare and bold invitation to women. Women still were mostly consigned to low-paying jobs in the worst conditions and no one thought about women's on-the-job heath-care issues.
It was not surprising that the hallway of the office Rashan rented was lined with more than two dozen attractive women on the morning after the ad appeared. Vlostock conducted the job interviews.
"I was curious about what type of job this is exactly," a long-legged Ukrainian blonde named Saana asked during her interview. "The ad was kind of fuzzy."
"The job, Miss Aroyo, is sex," Vlostock said. "Do you have any objection to that."
"You mean like screwing?" Saana said.
"Yes, we are opening a new brothel and we need attractive women like yourself as sex workers."
"Well, I don't have any objections to screwing," she giggled. "I like it. But I've heard how women at some of those downtown brothels get treated. I'm sorry but this job isn't for me..."
"Of course, you are free to go, but if we could allay your fears about being mistreated, aren't you curious about what we offer?" Vlostock said.
"Offer?"
"Yes, such benefits as free health care and pregnancy counseling," Vlostock said with a smile. "Plus, a chance to make a lot of money."
"I have friend who went to work at one of those downtown brothels and she didn't make much money and she didn't get free health care," Saana said. She was an elegant woman with an air of aristocracy and a terrific smile. Vlostock liked her a lot.
"This is a different type of brothel," Vlostock said with a smile. "We cater to very elite customers and all of our girls get regular care from doctors we employ."
"How are you able to offer those benefits?" Saana asked.
"Let us worry about that," Vlostock said.
"Perhaps you show her the other fringe benefit," Rashan suggested. He was seated to Vlostock's right, hands calmly folded in his lap.
"Other benefit?" Saana said.
"I think he means this," Vlostock said, dropping his pants slowly. He was a shy man but he had a charisma that put women at ease and his piercing blue eyes stirred animal passions within them. Saana was deeply affected by what she saw.
"That comes with the job," she gasped.
"I think you will be coming a lot with this job, young lady," Rashan said.
"Can I try out this benefit to see if it fits before I say yes?" Saana said.
Rashan looked at Vlostock for an answer.
"I suspect a try-before-you-buy event probably could be arranged in Miss Aroyo's behalf," Vlostock said.
Time and again, Rashan and Vlostock discovered that the offer of a good working environment and health benefits was the bait that drew women in for an interview. Vlostock's rod reeled them in time and again.
"My goodness, that benefit sure is a tight fit," Saana said, when she had her legs draped carelessly around Vlostock's shoulders. She lay on Vlostock's desk with her eyes rolling back in her head. She licked her full pouty, parched lips hungrily.
"I can promise, Miss Aroyo, that you will get frequent and vigorous use application of this tool when you work with us, not to mention other perhaps more humble instruments of pleasure," Rashan told her.
"Where do I signed?" Saana gasped.
Rashan offered her a pen which she grasped clumsily while Vlostock continued to pump into her.
"This is, of course, not a legal contract, Miss Aroyo," Rashan said, ignoring her guttural moans. "If you insist on signing something, this will do for now."
Candeeca was a slim black girl with an air of sophistication that seemed out-of-place in a girl who said she came from the deep South.
"How old are you?" Vlostock asked her.
"I'm 21," she answered
"If you are a day over 15, Candeesa, I would be amazed," Vlostock told her.
"Look, you can't prove that," Candeesa said. "And I can't prove I am 21. I was born in Mobile, Alabama, and came north looking for a better opportunity than I ever was going to get down there. All my papers about when I was born are still down south and I ain't going back to get them. So let's split the difference and say I'm 18."
"You look a lot younger, Candeesa," Vlostock told her.
"I know I look young, but that is a real attraction for some men," she said. "Call me Candy. Everyone else does. I don't go for that Candeesa shit."
"Do you know what kind of jobs we are offering here?" Rashan asked her.
"I think you are looking for girls to do the old in and out, right?"
"Well, I presume we're talking about the same thing," Vlostock said. "Have to any experience in the in and out field."
She hiked her skirt above her shapely thin legs, hopped up on the desk and squatted.
"One of you get up here and I'll show you how in and out is done," she said.
Soon she was bouncing up and down on Vlostock's wood and screaming like a banshee. The girls waiting in the hall were fearful something terrible was happening to the young black girl who just entered. When she emerged uninjured but on wobbly legs, looking exhausted and with a wan smile on her face, the other hopefuls were relieved but concerned.
"I'm fine," Candy assured them. "Let me tell you, I've had some fine Alabama black snake, but I think I just had me the King Cobra hisself."
Some girls left after that comment, not sure of their skills as snake handlers and fearful that it might be painful to learn. Others were more determined to try and Vlostock was more than happy to try them out.
Over the next several days, he tried several dozen girls and recruited the cream of the crop. Or at least the crop that made him cream the most. Tabitha and Benny, the dazzling twin sister from Oklahoma, performed an athletic oral ballet around a man's penis they called "Teeter Totter." Leslie Brendon had pendulous breasts and a slim waist that seemed to make her more willowy than any woman Vlostock had ever seen and her talents in smothering his cock with those breasts was extraordinary. When he rested after seven days of hard "work", he was certain he had assembled the loveliest team of professionals in Chicago.
"Dr. Heath, I'm glad to see you," Vlostock said several days later as he greeted his father's old friend and business partner.
"Nice to see you, lad," Dr. Heath said. "I didn't expect you'd need me quite so soon. You and the Indian must be making some excellent progress."
"We have purchased the house on the south side of downtown side, an old mansion built by a packing house tycoon," Vlostock said. "I guess he never imagined that one day the home he built and not just his packing house would be where a lot of sausage stuffing would take place."
"Oh I imagine he did a lot of stuffing himself in that mansion back in his day," Heath said. "But if it's the gentleman I think it was, he was mostly fudge packing men there. The community of frolicsome men is small and tightly knit in this town and we all know who belongs and who doesn't."
"I didn't realize you'd spent enough time here in Chicago to get to know the locals," Vlostock said with a laugh.
"My good boy, you'd be surprised where I've been."
"Well before you get too engrossed in local culture, we need you to do the initial examinations of the girls we've recruited to make sure they are healthy," Vlostock said. "As usual, we want you to train them to stay healthy and pregnancy free and then recruit a local team of doctors to carry on your work after you head back to California. Then we'll really be in business."
"Any echoes from our south side neighbors?" Heath asked.
"None audible, although they surely have noticed our footprints in the vicinity," Vlostock said.
"That's good because the longer we have before we have a head on confrontation with those bastards, the better off we'll be," Heath said.
"You've been through the worst years with Pops, Dr. Heath," Vlostock said. "I'm not sure why he wants to now drive a wedge into one of the most competitive markets in the world just to prove a point. There are more than 6,000 brothels here in Chicago of every type from the lowest crib to the grandiose pleasure palaces downtown. Then there are hundred of street prostitutes, dance halls, and other dives, mostly controlled by our opposition. We seem to have bitten off a lot to chew here."
"Granted, son, your dad can be quite the contrarian when he wants to be," the now gray-haired doctor said. "It goes to the heart of what he and I did when we started out up in Alaska. If there has to be prostitution--and that's a decision that should be between consenting adults not the legal authorities--then the women have to be educated and protected or else they can become the abused partners in the relationship. When he heard reports about how some of Capone's gangs were treating the girls here in Chicago, he, and your mother, decided something had to be done."
"How is Mom doing?" Vlostock asked. He'd not received a letter from her in more than a week.
"Natalie is sweet and beautiful as ever and still the smartest business woman I ever met," Heath said. "Your dad is the luckiest man that ever lived to have her on his board and to also have her as his wife."
"I was a little worried because she hadn't written in a while," Vlostock said.
"She's busy at the office and concerned about you and your father," Heath said. "She knows that this move into Chicago could trigger more violence directed at your dad or you. She wants to make sure nothing has been left to chance."
"Well, I still am not sure that we're going to do anything to change the Capone way of dealing with their women," Vlostock sighed.
"You are young, Vlostock," Heath smiled. "We don't need to change Capone. We need to change his head pimp."
The Sausage Factory in Chicago opened with great fanfare in the late spring of 1928. Brilliant search lights swept the night sky and limousines carrying the gliterati and literati of Chicago pulled up in front of the mansion and dropped off their passengers in groups of four or more. Umbrella-carrying butlers in tuxedos escorted patrons through the gentle rain to the front door. Guests included both men and women. The Sausage Factory was just another luxurious speak easy and gambling parlor in the salons on the lower level to all outside appearances. Gentlemen knew what wares were for rent on the upper floors, however, and if so inclined, could invite their mistresses or wives along to participate in their shenanigans.
Vlostock, Rashan and Heath mingled quietly among the crowd trying to maintain a low profile. As far as anyone at the opening was concerned, the owners of the establishment were "outside interests" who were represented by a strikingly beautiful madam named Saana. Chicago's blustery Republican Mayor "Big Bill" Thompson showed up with a large entourage of fellow politicos and immediately asked about the upstairs entertainment.
"Mr. Mayor, we are so glad to have you here at our opening, tonight," Saana said, placing a peck on his cheek.
"I understand that you have assembled some of the most attractive young ladies in the region to act as our hostesses tonight," Thompson said. "We will be leaving for Kansas City and the Republican convention in a couple of days and wanted to dip our wicks with real ladies before being consigned to those bow-legged cows they likely will have there."
"Why, of course, Mr. Mayor, you'll find some of our hostesses down here on the first floor wearing red flowers on their bodice to indicate their willingness to satisfy your every desire," Saana said. "Pick one out and take them upstairs or go upstairs and pick from among the positively gorgeous flowers you will find awaiting you there."
"Do any of those flowers like to be watered," one of the mayor's companions asked.
"I presume some do, but as I personally not have a proclivity in that area, I am not aware of their tastes," Saana said. "I will tell you that every effort has been made to assemble a staff to appeal to every taste, waterees and waterers alike."
When the mayor had gone, Saana turned to Candy and said, "Do you believe that man thinks he can become President of the United States?"
"You know Saana," Candy said. "There are some men you can't pay me enough money to have sex with. That blowhard would be one."
"Well, he's in Capone's pocket so you'd better be careful what you say you will and won't do," Saana replied.
"They can bring Nitty and that Gusik and any of his other buddies, and that's one man I ain't fucking," Candy insisted.
Saana sighed and sauntered nonchalantly over to Vlostock and Rashan who were standing unobtrusively in a hallway separating several salons watching arrivals and departures. As she approached them, the clatter and of dishes, rattle of roulette wheels and laughter of people having fun enveloped her from all sides.
"I suppose you saw who just showed up," she whispered to him.
"Yes, I guess that's a sure sign we'll get a visit from the Cicero boys tonight," he said. "I'm looking forward to it."
"I'm not," Saana said. "I don't know where you and Candy get your nerve."
A few moments later, a burly man in brown rumpled suit showed up and grabbed Vlostock's hand.
"Anton, you old Bohemian bastard," Vlostock said, "I'm glad you could make it. I figured you'd be too busy to make it by here tonight."
"For you, Krilenko," the man named Anton said, "I will slap on a suit and go anywhere, anytime, particularly when you have such lovely companions."
Candy smile at the kindly looking man who had just pumped Vlostock's hand so vigorously, but looked puzzled, not knowing who he was.
"Candy, this man was almost our Democratic Senator from here in Illinois and I am hoping he will be our next mayor," Vlostock said.
"He would definitely be an improvement over the current Mayor," Candy said, taking Anton Cermak's arm in hers. "Mr. Anton, can we go upstairs so I can introduce you to the pleasures to be enjoyed here."
"Yes, and perhaps I can discuss with you the efforts we are making in Democratic politics here in Chicago to get colored residents like yourself registered to vote," Cermak told her., "unless Mr. Krilenko here considers you part of his private stock."
"Anton, what is mine is yours," Vlostock told him.
Not long thereafter, they received the visitors they were expecting.
Tony "Smooth" Salgalcano and two of his associates in dark suits showed up about 45 minutes after Cermak did. They walked over to introduce themselves to Saana who smiled nervously.
"We've just come over from the Lexington to look at your operation, Miss Aroyo," Salgalcano said. "My boss is away on a trip to Little Rock but sends his best wishes. This looks like a first-class operation."
Salgalcano considered himself a dashing ladies man. His hair was slick back and he wore a pencil thin moustache. Undeniably handsome, Salgalcano had an air of decay that made Saana cringe.
"I see that your boss is over there in the hallway, Miss Aroyo," the hoodlum said. "Mind if I walk over and pay my personal respects."
Saana smiled and waived her hand in Vlostock's direction. She wanted nothing more than to have this walking embodiment of death out of her presence.
Vlostock knew Salgalcano would have no problem picking out who really was in charge at the mansion. He and Rashan had positioned themselves for just this confrontation.
"Mr. Krilenko," Salgalcano said, extending a hand in greeting. "Wonderful what you have done here. Wonderful."
"Nice to meet you in person Mr. Salgalcano," Vlostock said, accepting the handshake but wanting to wash his hand after his grip was released. "You are every bit as dapper as pictures of you I've seen."
"You have been out of the family business too long, Krilenko," Salgalcano said. "I heard you was up there at Havard, away from it all. Now that I meet you, I expected you to be taller and broader like your old man."
"No, I was not an inheritor of all my fathers physical attributes," Vlostock agreed.
"Yeh, I have heard rumors about one of the attributes you did inherit," Salgalcano said. "But you know what they say, women prefer style over substance."
"It's possible to get both in one package," Candy said, walking up to join the group. She had just completed a wild romp with Cermak and her hair was slightly discheveled.
"Miss...? I'm sorry, young lady, I don't know your name," Salgalcano said. He was clearly irritated that a woman would have the effrontery to speak up without asking permission.
"Candy," she said. "Just Candy, not that you ever will get an opportunity to lick it."
"You know, Krilenko, my whores do not speak to me or my guests so brazenly," Salgalcano said, giving a Candy a look that would kill if it had the power.
"That is the difference between us," Vlostock said. "We encourage our hostesses to speak up and say what is on their minds."
"I heard even your mama is a whore and she runs part of your daddy's business out west," Salgalcano said. "Can that be true?"
"Mom no longer works in the brothels but she is a manager at my dad's office in Los Angeles," Vlostock replied. He was not about to let himself get riled. Salgalcano turned to one of his leering associates and said:
"Get that. Momma is a retired whore and manages the family business. Isn't that just too priceless?"
The hoodlums shared a laugh.
"I guess that makes us just two princes, cocks of the walk, eh?" Salgalcano said to Vlostock. "One day we'll be running things on our own."
"I would say Scarface might have something to say about that," Vlostock said.
"Don't call him that to his face if you want to live to see tomorrow, but between us, old Al already is on his way out. The fatal blow already has been struck. It will just take awhile for him to die."
"And you struck the blow yourself? Against Al Capone?"
"These petty people who think they control the world or big parts of it," Salgalcano said. "They merely exist within the circles our family, your ancestors and mine, create for them. Study your family history."
"I wouldn't know about that," Vlostock said.
"Not knowing can be fatal," Salgalcano said. "For example, you opened here without asking permission. That can be fatal. You haven't paid taxes. Again, fatal ignorance."
"Our city permits and taxes are in order and we've paid off the right people," Vlostock said.
"No, the taxes I speak of is to the family, specifically to me," Salgalcano laughed. "Your debt is to me."
He turned to his associates and suggested they enjoy the premises while it was "still around." Rashan had remained silent until that moment but now stepped forward and addressed Salgalcano directly, his voice dripping acid.
"Sir, you have nine companions living in an apartment two blocks from here. You paid them to come here in the night after all our guests left and kill us all in our sleep. Go to them now. They desperately need your help."
Salgalcano stepped back as if struck by a bullet.
"Who are you?" he said. "What are you talking about?"
"Go now," Rashan said. "There still is a chance you could save a few if you hurry."
"You're crazy, you bastard," Salgalcano spat. "Why I ought to..."
"Mr. Salgalcano, your friends are dying even as we speak," Rashan said. "It is not our intention to hurt anyone. We reacted only in self-defense."
The hoodlum was pulled away by his two associates, shouting at the top of his lungs, swinging wildly at anyone who blocked his way. Eventually, he found himself at the door to the outside where his associates kept him from stumbling down the marble stairs.
"What was that all about?" Vlostock asked Rashan when the commotion subsided.
Rashan shook his head sadly. "My only talents," Rashan replied.
Later that night after the crowds subsided and while the subdued sound of people partying upstairs drifted like a gentle wind through the mansion's downstairs, Vlostock sat with Candy and Saana, eating whipped-cream covered crepes, and discussing the evening's events. "Rashan scares the hell out of me," Saana was saying. "I mean I thought Salgalcano was scary but Rashan tonight was positively blood curdling."
"Yeh, maybe you should tell us who Mr. Rashan is and how he fits in around here," Candy said.
"I don't know," Vlostock said. "He's always been one of my dad's enforcers and a guy who handled security at events like our grand opening here. For example, he personally provided most of the Indian guards and waiters we used tonight. But tonight was a whole new level of strange. I am going to have to speak to him about it."
"And what was Salgalcano saying about having struck a fatal blow against Capone?" Candy said. "Scarface is more powerful than ever in this town and I bet he'd kill Salgalcano if he heard what Salgalcano said."
"Don't dismiss threats from my family emissaries too lightly," Vlostock said. "For centuries, they have controlled the sex business around the world and they have developed sexual weapons that kill slowly but just as effectively as bullets. Other members of my family have developed countermeasures to give us a degree of invulnerability to such weapons, but the unprotected are...well, defenseless no matter how powerful they believe themselves to be. My family cures and kills with sex."
"Well, maybe you should cure us with sex, you lady killer," Candy purred.
"Yes, I'm tired of discussing murder and mayhem," Saana said. "Why don't you take us upstairs and sail what you been selling tonight."
Vlostock was tired, but after the confrontation of the evening, he felt he and the girls needed a workout to relax before going to sleep. He tested not only Saana and Candy but several other sleepy-headed vixens before dawn broke over the Sausage Factory.
Vlostock did have a chance to talk to Rashan in the morning about what Salgalcano had been told.
"You see it is here in the newspaper this morning," Rashan said. "I do not like to be the bearer of such grim news but I swore long ago to be the protector of your family and his offspring and I could not allow Mr. Salgalcano to carry out his plan to kill us all."
The headline carried the news. Seven men--presumed members of the Capone gang--found dead not four blocks away in an apartment from what appeared to be gas inhalation. Two others were in critical condition and not expected to live.
"You did this?" Vlostock asked Rashan.
"I knew it could happen and did not try to prevent it except to warn Mr. Salgalcano last night while he was here," Rashan said. "Unfortunately, I frightened him but not sufficiently for him to take seriously what I warned him about. He was slow to rush to his friends' defense and they paid a heavy price."
"But how did you know they were about to kill us?" Vlostock said. "What did you do to...not prevent their deaths."
"In all things, my young man, there are potentialities and those of us who have studied and been exposed to the Quin Suan Shalat understand the vulnerabilities that are created and can, with great mental effort, exploit them for their own ends," Rashan said.
"Quin Suan Shalat?" Vlostock said. "Yes, I have heard dad speak of it and mother, too. But what is it?"
"At your age, I would be better to try to explain creation itself," Rashan said, searching Vlostock's face for some indication of understanding. "No, it is better to say that it is the life force that radiates throughout all of nature, the ultimate sexual ecstasy, the most life-altering orgasm and relaxing high achievable on this plane of existence. It transcends this world unto the next where it meets its opposite."
"I don't understand."
"It is as I told you, not easily grasped by a man of your tender years, but one day, you, too, will understand this power and wield it, I hope, with great care and compassion as your father has," Rashan said. He raised a hand to cut off any further questioning.
"In good time, son, now is not the time," he said. "I have promised your father to reveal to you the secrets you already possess only when you are ready. Not before."
"But Salgalcano's men...?"
"They tasted, first hand," Rashan said somberly, "the power of Quin Suan Shalat's opposite."
The sudden death of a large hit squad and the way it was accomplished threw Salgalcano into a deep panic. He would be much more careful in attacking the Krilenko's so directly in the future. The skirmishes continued off and on for years. Each Salgalcano failure caused Capone greater dissatisfaction with his head of all pimps and in time, he became determined to rid himself of Salgalcano and the power he wielded.
He watch with greed and jealousy the success Vlostock made of the Krilenko high-end bordello. It was rumored he wanted to replace Salgalcano with Vlostock, but he unfortunately, did not get a chance to put that plan into place. Within a few years, Capone was in prison where he would die from a particularly virulent form of syphilis. Salgalcano's slow-acting "bullet" finally struck home.
"Big Bill" Thompson did not, fortunately, win the Republican Presidential nomination at the 1928 convention in Kansas City. Wrote the Chicago Tribune about Thompson, "For Chicago, Thompson has meant filth, corruption, obscenity, idiocy and bankruptcy.... He has given the city an international reputation for moronic buffoonery, barbaric crime, triumphant hoodlumism, unchecked graft, and a dejected citizenship. He nearly ruined the property and completely destroyed the pride of the city. He made Chicago a byword for the collapse of American civilization. In his attempt to continue this he excelled himself as a liar and defamer of character."
Those same words might have just as easily applied to another Illinois Chicago politician more than 80 years later. Strangely, that man's family also hailed from Eastern Europe just as did Anton Cermak's. It was Cermak who opened the door for non-Irish politicians in Chicago.
Cermak easily beat Thompson in the 1930 Mayoral race . He is considered today to be the father of the Chicago Democratic machine and is credited with bringing blacks in large numbers into the party.
The Republican Presidential nominee in 1928 was Herbert Hoover, a man whose name and policies ultimately came universally associated with spectacular financial collapse, just as another Republican president would, well, about 80 years later. Despite good intentions, Hoover was inept at countering the excesses of the Harding-Coolidge years and justly got the blame for starting the First Great Depression. The collapse of the stock market in October 1929 signaled the beginning of a prolonged period of economic misery.
When Franklin Delano Roosevelt was elected in 1933, Vlostock, Rashan and Dr. Heath made plans to attend the inaugural. Although Roosevelt was not initially as universally popular as Barack Obama, his inauguration did kindle a new spirit of hope in a dispirited nation. Vlostock and his friends wanted to be on hand to see the new president take office.
They took a train for Florida where they planned to meet Roosevelt and Cermak prior to the inaugural not knowing Salgalcano saw this as a last ditch opportunity to kill his old nemesis. Power was slipping from his hands in Chicago and he was determined to get Vlostock and Rashan in an ambush he'd set. It turned out to be a bush of a totally different sort.
Roosevelt was grateful for Vlostock’s support in the campaign and knowing he, Rashan and Dr. Heath were vacationing in Florida prior to their trip to Washington for the inauguration, FDR invited them to stop by for a visit and to hear a speech he planned. Anton Cermak, the Chicago Mayor who replaced the corrupt Bill Thompson, was also planning to be in attendance.
Cermak had had hard-won reputation as an enemy of Mafia crime. He launched a no-holds-barred battle with the Chicago mob for control or the city. He and Vlostock had become good friends over the years. Their families both had roots deep in Northeastern Europe and shared a hatred of the Sicilian Capone organization, now controlled by Frank Nitti. They truly enjoyed each others’ company and looked forward to the opportunity to shake the newly elected president’s hand and exchange a few pleasant words.
As he traveled in the company of Roosevelt, the mayor knew his life was in jeopardy but refused to take actions to protect himself from Nitti’s henchmen, including Salgalcano’s thugs who, it was rumored, roamed Chicago’s streets looking for an opportunity to get rid of a man he regarded as Vlostock’s biggest benefactor. Another rumor circulating in Chicago at the time was that Nitti wanted to rid himself of the unpredictable Salgalcano.
So many of Salgalcano’s business ventures had failed and his violent attempts to stifle Vlostock’s businesses had proved so embarrassing that Nitti wanted to bring someone else in to replace Salgalcano. It seemed that treating customers and employees well was a good business model and Nitti envied Vlostock’s success.
Salgalcano feared that Vlostock might be the man Nitti asked to replace him. At his offices at the Lexington, Salgalcano called in an old friend to ask for a favor.
“Giuseppe, I am counting on you to do this thing for me,” Salgalcano said. “I want you get all of them, the Mayor and young Krilenko. And if you can get that Indian bastard, too, I want him dead.”
Salgalcanio feared Rashan more than any man on earth. Always, it seemed, Rashan was one step ahead, anticipating Salgalcano’s plans almost before they were fully formulated. When Salgalcano formed a hit squad to target Vlostock or his businesses, something always seemed to go wrong. Either the hit squad turned up dead, police showed up to arrest them or his henchmen disappeared into thin air as if they never existed.
Giuseppe was a troubled, unsociable man who Salgalcano met years earlier on a New Jersey construction site and had a profile of the perfect lone, mad assassin.
“And I kill dat bastard FDR, too,” Giuseppe Zangara told his employer.
“Great, if you can get him, but there will be a lot of police down there at the park to protect the president-elect,” Salgalcano said. “Kirlenko, Cermak and the Indian are the main targets. Get them first before anyone else.”
Salgalcano hoped that Rashan would be unable to pick up the mayhem in Zangara’s toubled mind until it was too late to counter him. The clouds that hung low and ominously in Zangara’s eyes masked the evil thoughts that were not easily tapped.
“I will give you all of their souls and FDR will be a bonus,” Zangara said. “You pay me later.”
“Yes, exactly what I want to hear,” Salgalcano said. “Do this and you will be as wealthy as any capitalist.”
In turning loose his secret weapon, the Chicago hood realized he did was setting in motion a string of events that could not be traced back to hurt him. Everyone would assume Zangara was just another crazy with a gun. Zangara’s thick Sicilian accent made him almost impossible to comprehend so that if he fingered Salgalcano as the mastermind of the plot, his claims would undoubtedly be rejected. Zangara was crazy, no question. Anyone who knew him would swear to that and to his anti-American views.
“Kill several men with totally different backgrounds, all of whom have a broad enemies list, and no one will suspect who the real targets are,” Salgalcano told Nitti on the phone later after Zangara left.
“This better work,” Nitti growled. “Or everyone will know who killed you and why.”
Nitti heard hissing noises in the background on Salgalcano’s end of the line.
“What the hell, Sal?” Nitti said. “You got a bug problem down there in Florida?”
“No, it’s that damn gaseous Zangara,” Salgalcano said. “I’m spraying air freshener.”
Vlostock, Rashan and Dr. Heath stood in the crowd in Bayfront Park, Florida, awaiting the arrival of the car carrying Roosevelt and Cermak. The new president-elect was scheduled to give a short speech from the back of the open-top car and then meet with well wishers who’d gathered to hear him talk.
“Rashan, this is your first real exposure to true American democracy.” Dr. Heath said.
“I have seen the American democracy at work in San Francisco, Los Angeles and Chicago,” Rashan said. “It seems mostly a tawdry affair dominated by hoodlums and cheaters. I expect nothing more from Roosevelt.”
“No, he is different, you cynic,” Heath said. “You will see. He is a man of the people.”
“Yes, people like that Kennedy fellow from Boston,” Rashan said. “Friendships with rum runners and pimps are no great virtue.”
“Oh, you mean like us,” Vlostock laughed. “Well, I beg to differ. Some pimps and rum runners are good people as opposed, say, to Capone, Nitti, or Salgalcano. We’re the good criminals.”
“I know that you do not fool yourself that you are any better than the Nitti’s of the world, especially considering the lives I have taken in the name of your father and yourself,” Rashan said. “We are better only because we kill and take as a last resort and we try to treat the people who work with us with some degree of civility.”
“Well, that’s something,” Vlostock said. “I know Anton appreciates us and what we have done for him.”
“The Mayor appreciates that we have kept him safe from Capone’s and Nitti’s gunmen and that we allow him to use our facilities for free,” Rashan said. “If we were as threatening and virulent as Nitti, we would earn Cermak’s enmity as well.”
“Maybe,” Vlostock said. “But I like to think good things befall men of good will and we’ve built up a considerable amount of good will in Chicago that other men of good will appreciate.”
"Whoooooie!” Dr. Heath said suddenly.
“What is your problem, doctor?” Vlostock said. The president's car was just pulling into the park and Vlostock thought the doctor was imitating the sound of a car horn or police sirens.
“Can’t you smell that?” Heath said, holding his nose as the crowd pushed forward toward the train. “It smells like sewer gas and dead bodies. Yuck!”
“Yes, doctor, I feel it, too,” Rashan said, “I feel a great disturbance in the forts.”
“You mean in the farts?” Heath said.
“No, doctor, I fear someone has crapped his pants,” Rashan said.
"Yes, we can," Candy said, beaming.