MURDER AT THE GALLIANO CLUB is my next release, set in upstate New York during Prohibition. The Galliano Club is an Italian social club for men, catering to mill workers producing the copper and iron to build America’s bridges, ship hulls, and electrical wires.
Benny Rotolo is a real Public Enemy; a Chicago gangster who is forced to flee to New York. His appearance will change everything at the Galliano Club.
Sort of the way a wrecking ball changes everything.
As he strolled toward the Majestic Theater, Benny Rotolo tipped his black fedora over his left eye so every girl on West Monroe Street would look twice. Once for the hat, a second time for Benny’s dark eyes and cleft chin. Dames fell for the act all the time.
Visible from blocks away, the Majestic’s huge sign advertised a new revue. Maybe he’d catch a matinee. Sit in one of the fancy mezzanines.
At 22 years old, Benny was tearing up Chicago and feeling mighty pleased about it. He had a Colt Pocket Hammerless automatic in his right pocket, a short-barreled shotgun hidden inside his coat on the other side, and 600 dollars in his wallet. The money was from Hymie Weiss, payment for busting up a couple of saloons near the Hawthorne Works factory.
The owners needed to be persuaded to buy their beer from Hymie’s North Side gang instead of Al Capone’s Chicago Outfit.
In between persuasion jobs, Benny was a torpedo for the gang, rubbing out Hymie’s rivals. He also delivered beer, acted as a lookout, drove getaway cars, and encouraged local politicians to vote the North Side way. The pay was good, not only cash but booze and respect, too.
After the matinee, he’d head over to Hymie’s headquarters on State Street across from Holy Name Cathedral. It was good to be part of the inside circle, although it could get rough in there. Hymie was a crazy Polack, so crazy that all of Chicago knew that he was the only man that Al Capone feared. And that was saying something.
“Hey, Benny!” Lefty Wilcox caught up to him, coattails flying. His signature white feather fluttered in his hatband.
“Hey, Lefty,” Benny said, slowing down. “What’s your hurry?”
Lefty was a legbreaker a couple of rungs below Benny on the North Side ladder. No genius, but he was famous for taking the rap when Hymie punched a girl right in the kisser. Lefty went to the can for six months, but never squealed.
“Jesus, Benny, haven’t you heard?” Lefty’s eyes darted up and down West Monroe Street where cars and buses engaged in another day of free-for-all Chicago traffic.
Benny frowned. “Heard what?”
“Capone knows that it was you what busted up his saloons the other night,” Lefty said. “The Outfit’s looking for you.”
Read more about the upcoming Galliano Club series here: http://carmenamato.net/ galliano-club-mystery-series/