章節 26: Chapter 26: The True Master of the Jewish Gang
Hardy took the money and was ready to leave. Downstairs, Henry and Matthew were engrossed in a TV show featuring cartoon cats and mice.
In 1945, television was not widespread, with only about 67% penetration in the United States and only a dozen or so TV stations. The televisions of the time were small black-and-white sets, but they were highly engaging to those who had limited exposure to TV programming.
It wasn't until the 1950s that television became a common household item.
"Boss, are you heading out? Do you need me to drive you?" Henry asked as Hardy descended the stairs.
"No need," Hardy replied, then paused as a thought struck him. "Henry, is that guy still locked up in the cellar?"
"Yes, he's been there for three days," Henry confirmed.
"Find a reason to let him go, but make sure he doesn't learn anything about us or the robbery. Also, tell Nick and the others to investigate the Spanish gang's reaction and see if they're making any moves."
"Got it, boss!"
Hardy left, and Henry turned to Matthew. "Matthew, what should we do with that guy?"
"The easiest solution would be to get rid of him. After a hundred, he wouldn't be much trouble," Matthew suggested.
"But the boss said we should find a reason to let him go, not to kill him," Henry pointed out.
At that moment, the TV had switched from cartoons to a drama series. In the plot, a woman was being coerced by a boss who threatened to make her his lover if she didn't comply.
Henry's eyes lit up. "Matthew, I've got an idea."
Kevin Madison had been locked in the cellar for three days, consumed by fear. He wondered if the robbers would contact his family for ransom and how much they would demand. He worried about the possibility of being killed, as he had heard that many ransom-paying victims ended up dead.
"Bang!"
The cellar door swung open, and two masked men entered, one holding a gun. Kevin trembled, fearing for his life.
"Please don't kill me! I'm willing to meet any demands. Just don't kill me," Kevin pleaded desperately.
"Enough talk. Follow our instructions," Henry said coldly.
"Okay, I'll do whatever you say."
"Strip off your clothes. All of them!" Henry ordered.
Kevin was stunned. What could they be planning? But with no other options, he quickly undressed, revealing his average physique.
Matthew readied a camera and began taking pictures of Kevin.
"Don't cover yourself. Let your hands go," Matthew directed.
"Strike a pose, and try to look a bit seductive."
"Smile a little, not so sternly."
Kevin thought it was absurd to look relaxed in such a situation. Once the roll of film was finished, Matthew instructed Kevin to get dressed, bound his hands, and led him out.
They drove around in Kevin's Lincoln for half an hour before stopping. Henry untied Kevin and said sharply, "You're free to go now. Prepare $5,000 and be ready for our contact."
"Remember, if you go to the police, we have countless ways to retaliate, and your photos will be sent to major newspapers."
"I won't go to the police," Kevin promised, his voice trembling.
"You can only open the hood after counting to 100. Start now," Matthew said.
"Okay, 1, 2, 3, 4..."
Henry and Matthew exchanged smiles as they got out of the car. Kevin counted to 100, then hesitantly lifted the hood. There was no one else around.
Kevin began to cry with relief. After sobbing for a while, he shakily drove back home. When he arrived, his wife, who had been worried, confronted him. "Where have you been? I was about to call the police!"
Seeing her concern, Kevin embraced her. "I never want to be apart from you again."
---
After Fred learned of Hardy's involvement in the robbery, he immediately called his boss, Siegel.
The phone rang and was answered.
"Mr. Siegel, it's Fred. The robbery at the Spaniard's casino was carried out by Jon Hardy, a leader in our gang."
"Jon Hardy? Tell me more about him," Siegel requested.
"Jon Hardy is a former Marine who retired after being wounded. He was recommended by my associate, Bill. His team consists of veterans and former comrades," Fred explained.
"He just called me to hand over the share and is on his way here."
"How much did he bring?" Siegel asked.
"Sixty-three thousand dollars. To encourage the crew, I increased the share. The total loot was $210,000, with the gang receiving $63,000," Fred clarified.
"Sixty-three thousand?" Siegel pondered, feeling intrigued.
He was in need of funds. Hardy's money was available and could be used directly.
Recently, the Mafia Committee had requested increased income from Los Angeles. Siegel's friend, William Wixon, had proposed building a luxury casino in Las Vegas.
Siegel was excited about this project. They planned a grand casino with all amenities—luxurious hotels, nightclubs, restaurants, cafes, private villas, and even a lake, arena, shooting range, and racetrack. They aimed to accommodate about 3,000 guests at once, with an initial investment of $6 million.
In 1945, $6 million was a massive amount, equivalent to $600 million today.
Though Siegel was the boss of the Los Angeles Jewish gang, the gang functioned like a company and was part of the Mafia. A significant portion of earnings needed to be handed over, leaving Siegel with only part of the funds needed for the project.
William Wixon could only contribute $1 million. Siegel needed to raise an additional $4 million and was looking to other gangsters for support.
"Fred, bring Hardy to me and make sure he brings the money," Siegel instructed.
Fred understood the implication.
"Understood, boss."
---
Driving Bill's old Ford, Hardy thought about how it was time for an upgrade. Cars were crucial, sometimes even more important than guns.
Arriving at Fred's villa in a high-end community of spacious, independent properties, Hardy parked and stepped out with his suitcase.
As he approached the door, it opened automatically. Fred greeted him, "Hardy, come inside. I want you to meet someone."
"Who am I meeting?" Hardy asked, curious.
Fred responded, "My boss—the true master of the underground world of Los Angeles!"
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