Al Capone | The Price of Doing Business

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It's Valentine's Day, 1929, and the 2100 block of Chicago's North Clark Street is unusually noisy.

This particular corner is mostly small apartment buildings, so the only sounds that normally disturb the peace are the occasional family squabble.

That's why the unmistakable sound of gunfire a little before 11 a.m.

catches the locals' attention.

Jeannette Landesman is in her living room, standing at the ironing board when the commotion startles her out of her routine.

It sounds like the noises came from the garage next door.

Forgetting her chores for the moment, Jeannette walks to the front window of her third-floor apartment and pulls aside the curtain.

She peers down into the street where a police officer is climbing into a Cadillac.

While Jeannette watches, the car swerves around onto the wrong side of the road, darts in front of a passing streetcar and accelerates away.

It's a risky move to avoid a fairly small amount of traffic and one that seems out of character for a police car.

Now, Jeannette's thoroughly invested in whatever is going on out there, so she decides to get a closer look.

On the stairs, she stops her neighbor Charles McAllister and asks him to come investigate the garage next door with her.

Charles is supposed to be leaving for work, but he feels like he can't let Jeannette poke around a dingy brick garage alone, so he follows her downstairs and out onto the busy street.

The Cadillac is long gone, but it's left behind a hum of disquiet on North Clark Street.

Jeannette and Charles make for the garage.

Jeannette tries the door first, but she can't budge it, so Charles steps forward to help.

The door finally gives way, spilling light into the gloom beyond.

Peering inside, Charles suggests Jeannette hangs back.

Neither of them are sure what's waiting inside the garage, but Charles thinks whatever it is might be too much for a woman's delicate sensibilities.

He moves through a sparsely furnished office and into the cavernous garage space out back.

Rows of trucks form a kind of dark hallway, leading deeper into the building.

Their canvas-covered shapes throw eerie shadows.

And over the echo of his footsteps, Charles can hear the quiet whimpers of a dog.

At the end of the makeshift corridor, the space is brighter, lit by a single bulb.

But he wishes darkness would swallow the scene before him.

Charles can see the dog now, and why it's crying.

Six lifeless forms lie on the ground.

There's a seventh collapsed over the back of a chair.

The bodies have been torn apart by bullets and buckshot, leaving a spreading slick of blood beneath them.

Charles doesn't want to walk through the blood.

He can't.

But he also knows he can't stand there forever.

He has to do something.

After several heart-pounding seconds, he turns on his heel and walks back towards the front of the building.

As he goes, Charles hears a man's voice call out weakly.

It's probably just his mind playing tricks on him, conjuring ghosts out of shotgun smoke.

But after he gets back outside to Jeanette and tells her to summon the police, Charles can't help but wonder, what if one of those men is still alive?

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Eight years before the St.

Valentine's Day Massacre shook the city of Chicago, Al Capone was just a rising star in the orbit of the wily mobster Johnny Torrio.

After fleeing a vengeful rival gangster in New York, Capone had set up in the Windy City.

The 22-year-old had proved himself a willing and capable lieutenant for his mentor.

He'd started out as a bouncer before quickly working his way up through the ranks until it was clear to everyone in Torrio's gang that Capone was the boss's chosen successor.

But although Torrio was an intelligent leader with a strategic brain, life atop the criminal underworld wasn't easy.

Prohibition had created a lucrative trade in illegal alcohol, and Chicago was home to many gangs all fighting for a piece of the action.

Torrio dominated the south side, and the north side gang held the north.

But there were plenty of other smaller groups in just about every neighborhood of the city.

The Jennas, the O'Donnells, the Soltis-McCarlin mob.

At every turn, there were enemies to deal with.

Rival gangs and assassins, greedy journalists and crusading cops.

There were palms to grease, elections to rig, and bodies to dispose of.

But for people like Torrio and Capone, that was all just part of the gig.

They were building a crime empire the likes of which Chicago had never seen.

And they weren't going to let anything, or anyone, stand in their way.

This is episode two in our four-part series on Al Capone.

The Price of Doing Business.

It's a cool evening in Chicago, late in 1921, and Al Capone's waiting patiently at the back of an Italian restaurant.

He and his mentor, Johnny Torrio, sit in a screened-off room.

The sounds of the busy establishment drift through the wall.

The constant hum of conversation, a quartet of musicians, faint clatters from the kitchen.

Before Capone and Torrio stretches a long table covered in a white cloth, they're expecting a big group tonight.

But what's planned isn't a gathering of loyal employees, nor is it a meeting with local officials about the size of their latest bribe.

No.

39-year-old Torrio has reached out to a disparate group of criminals from Chicago's south side to hear a radical pitch.

He wants them to join forces.

As Torrio's handpicked protege, 22-year-old Capone delivered most of the invitations personally.

So he recognizes each of the men as they enter the room in twos and threes, all of them wearing stylish suits and gray fedoras.

As Capone looks around, he sees some rivals, some allies, and even some small timers too inconsequential to have mattered before.

But Torrio insisted that everyone be given a seat at the table.

After all, numbers mean strength.

Since the assassination of the mobster Big Jim Colosimo in 1920, Torrio's empire has only grown.

With his steady hand at the wheel, the organization has expanded from its original foundation of brothels to include speakeasies, bootlegging operations, and racketeering.

But Torrio's individual success has come at a time of growing violence between Chicago's gangs.

In Torrio's eyes, things have gotten out of hand and it's giving everyone a bad name.

Torrio's philosophy has always been that there's enough quote-unquote business for them all.

And so, once each of the seats at the table is occupied, he makes his pitch.

Torrio proposes a structure for the gangs that offers employment and protection for the smaller operations and cooperation and protected markets for the larger groups.

Everyone who joins his new outfit has to agree to respect each other's territory and deal with any outsiders who try to muscle in on their collective turf, because if Chicago's gangs can unite under one banner, Torrio's certain they'll be unstoppable.

It's a fairly simple setup, and one that naturally positions Torrio at the top of the pyramid.

But if any of the men in the back room have qualms about the hierarchy, they keep their mouths shut.

Torrio has proven himself an astute leader, and they can see that in Capone, he's surrounding himself with able deputies.

Joining this new operation will benefit everyone.

By the end of the night, the outfit, as it will come to be known, has officially formed.

Locals who watch the gangsters file out will wonder what's been going on in the back room, but never imagine they were just feet away from the birth of a new criminal empire.

During Prohibition, bootlegging is a pay-to-play game.

It relies on a complex system of kickbacks for the right people to ensure that everything runs smoothly.

In the aftermath of the outfit's formation, Johnny Torrio has a lot more people to bribe.

His vast new operation will need careful management.

That's why it's a good thing Al Capone is right there by his side.

Capone's position comes with a certain amount of cachet.

The outfit now wields a lot of influence in the Windy City.

And a now 23-year-old Capone enjoys the benefits, not all of the monetary in nature.

On the morning of August 30th, 1922, Capone is squeezing every last bit of excitement out of a night on the town with his friends.

He's high on life and drunk on hooch.

Unfortunately for everyone else on Randolph Street, he's also behind the wheel of his car.

It's not surprising when Capone loses control of the vehicle and slams into a parked taxi.

With the fun over, Capone's friends jump out of the car and make a hasty getaway.

They know trouble's coming, either from the cops or from Capone himself, and they're not keen to stick around and find out which is worse.

True to form, Capone's temper gets the best of him.

He pulls his revolver from its holster and storms over to the taxi he's just crashed into.

The cab driver is in a bad way, but he can still make out the intimidating shape of the man beside the car.

Capone stands around six feet tall, and all that height is packed with muscle.

Capone's ordinarily pouty lips are transformed by his rage.

Spittle flies from his mouth as he screams at the taxi driver, brandishing a special deputy sheriff's badge in one hand and pointing a pistol with the other.

Where he got the badge is anyone's guess, but the gun is all the wounded taxi driver can focus on.

Just then, a man jumps from a passing streetcar and rushes toward the taxi.

He calls out to Capone, telling him to stop threatening the driver.

The man saw the whole thing and tells Capone that the crash was his fault.

Furious that anyone would try to interfere, Capone turns the gun on the interloper and starts screaming that he'll shoot him instead.

There might have been bullets loose that day were it not for the police arriving on the scene at just the right time.

They bundle the taxi driver into an ambulance and escort Capone down to the station.

It's clear to everyone that he was in the wrong, so the cops lock him up and slap him with three charges, assault with an automobile, driving under the influence, and carrying a concealed weapon.

Now a little less drunk, but just as full of rage, Capone tells the arresting officer that the charges won't stick.

He's connected, and any cop who crosses him is sure to lose his job.

It's a bold claim, and one the officer has probably heard from other puffed up criminals.

But, at least part of it comes true.

Capone makes bail before the end of the day, and the charges against him are never heard in court.

His record's expunged, and it's like the whole thing never even happened.

Whether the cops who arrested him wind up keeping their jobs is unclear.

But what is clear is that after less than three years in Chicago, Capone already enjoys real influence in the town.

Invoking the name of Torrio's outfit is a powerful talisman.

And as one of its senior members, Capone is virtually untouchable.

That said, it is an all-smooth sailing.

In early 1923, Chicago elects a new mayor.

The outgoing office holder, Big Bill Thompson, was a good friend of the mobsters.

He knew when to look the other way, but this new guy is different.

Judge William Devere has campaigned as a reformer, vowing to enforce the law throughout the city.

It's a promise he keeps, and within a month of his election, his newly appointed police chief has officers raiding illegal saloons and parlors across the city.

The coordinated efforts are a shock to well-oiled bootlegging machines like Torrio and Capone's.

Hundreds of arrests are made, and for a time, it looks like the capital of vice might actually dry up.

Concerned about the future of his enterprise, Torrio approaches police chief Morgan Collins with a proposition.

He offers Collins $1,000 a day if he'll cool it with the rates.

Given that the average annual income at the time is a little over 3 grand, it's a generous offer.

And the raids don't even have to stop completely, Torrio says.

But if things could be a little more like they were before, that'd be swell.

Collins doesn't bite.

Now the mobster is really feeling the pinch.

With so many of his venues padlocked and his customers unwilling to risk arrest in a police raid, Torrio's business is under threat.

So Torrio returns to Collins' office to make another proposal.

A hundred grand a month.

Just for looking the other way.

Any man would be a fool to turn that down.

But fool or not, Collins won't budge.

So in October 1923, faced with an increasingly hostile political climate on their turf, Torrio and Capone decide to shift their headquarters somewhere a little quieter.

They move out of Chicago proper and into the suburbs, a quaint place called Cicero Township.

Before Torrio and Capone show up, Cicero Township already has several beer gardens and saloons operating openly in flagrant disregard for prohibition laws.

So it's clear that its citizens are in favor of a drink.

The area is far less tolerant of gambling parlors and brothels, though, which make up a significant portion of the outfit's income in Chicago.

That could be a problem, but Torrio is a seasoned pro.

As in Chicago, he gets to work bringing the Cicero politicians on side and smooth-talking those neighbors who object to his various business ventures.

On the rare occasion that money doesn't convince, Capone is sent in to change people's minds.

He cuts a more intimidating figure than Torrio, and he got plenty of experience as an enforcer in New York.

He's better dressed these days, though.

Working for the outfit is lucrative and allows Capone to indulge in luxuries like a flashy car and tailored suits.

He's also bought a house for his family and moved his mother and siblings from Brooklyn so they can all live under one roof.

Though, to be fair, that last part isn't wholly altruistic.

Because Torrio has made Capone an offer, a 50-50 split on their organization.

The long-anticipated handoff from master to apprentice has begun.

But when faced with the reality of running the sprawling criminal empire, Capone decides he wants some familiar faces at his side.

His older brothers Ralph and Frank have been involved in organized crime in New York since they were all kids, and Capone admires them dearly.

They're natural choices for his first lieutenants.

All three of Capone's brothers know the dangers of their chosen field.

They've seen their share of violence and dealt out plenty of their own.

But they're still young men, possessed with all the fearlessness of youth.

Despite their reckless bravado, however, the fact is not all of them will make it out of Cicero alive.

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It's early 1924, and Robert St.

John is in the print room of his newspaper, The Cicero Tribune.

The 22-year-old watches as copies of the latest edition slide off the presses.

He picks one up.

The front page carries a story about the corruption that's recently infested Robert's hometown.

It's not like Cicero has always been a beacon of virtue, but ever since the gangsters Johnny Torrio and Al Capone moved their operations from nearby Chicago, things have gotten worse.

Torrio and Capone are now 50-50 partners in their business, and the two men have made Cicero's Hawthorne Hotel their new headquarters.

The gangsters are anything but subtle.

The hotel is a prime location in the heart of town, and there's no mistaking Capone and his lurid collection of suits.

He's always favored eye-wateringly bright colors, lime green, lavender, yellow.

And he likes to accessorize his look with diamonds, tie bars, cufflinks, belt buckles.

He even wears a dazzling pinky ring that catches the light wherever he goes.

That sense of style in Capone's gregarious public persona seemed to have endeared him to the locals in Cicero.

But one man hasn't been won over.

And now journalist Robert St.

John is determined to reveal the sordid truth behind Capone's flashy exterior.

St.

John knows that the people of Cicero like a drink.

But he's convinced they don't want the brothels and casinos that Torrio and Capone are opening up.

And they certainly don't want the kind of violence on their streets that's been giving Chicago a bad name for years.

So with dogged tenacity, St.

John has set out to expose all of the underhanded tactics used by Torrio and Capone.

He wants to make sure everyone in his town is paying attention to the intimidation and threats, the bribes and the kickbacks.

St.

John won't let the outfit take over Cicero without opposition.

Thankfully, he's got the perfect opportunity coming to make a stand.

There will be an election in Cicero in 1924.

It will decide who rules the suburb, the people or the mobsters.

The current mayor is Republican Joseph Klena.

He served for three terms and is now seeking a fourth.

That would suit Capone and Torrio just fine because Klena is a man on the take.

He's been happy to do business with the gangsters from Chicago.

But as St.

John and his Tribune newspaper continue the noisy crusade against Torrio and Capone, public opinion in Cicero starts to turn, not only against the mobsters themselves, but against their pet politicians as well.

The citizens of Chicago have recently kicked out a corrupt mayor and replaced him with a reformer.

Now there's a real danger that Clenna and the rest of the Republican candidates in Cicero will lose this election as well.

And if that happens, then things will get much, much harder for the mobsters in Cicero.

So the beleaguered mayor comes to Capone and Torrio begging for help.

If they can get him re-elected, his administration will continue to look the other way in any matter involving the outfit.

For Capone and Torrio, it's a no-brainer of a deal.

So Capone summons his brother Frank to his side.

He's not as imposing as Al or Ralph, but he has a knack for bending people to his will.

And in Capone's mind, that makes Frank responsible for the outfit finding success at the polling booths.

The brothers soon land on what they think will be the perfect solution for their publicity troubles.

Good deeds.

The only way to turn things around is for the people of Cicero to see the outfit helping to improve the community.

They'll pave streets.

They'll clean up entire neighborhoods if they have to.

Anything to get voters back on their side.

So Frank gets to work doing just that.

Then, to make sure everyone in town hears about the improvements, Frank leans on the editors of the Cicero Life, the Tribune's rival paper.

All of a sudden, there are two competing narratives in town.

One painting Capone as a villain, and one shining a light on him as a hero of the community, a man of the people.

As election day draws closer, the Chicago Tribune gets wind of Capone's underhanded tricks and publishes a piece warning that Cicero Township is about to see a bloody, dishonest election.

Because by now, it's not just a war in the press raging in Cicero.

Torrio and Capone's takeover has made the town much more appealing to rival gangs eager for a slice of the action.

So some of them have thrown their weight behind Democratic nominees running against Clenna's Republican ticket.

Election Day promises to be a tense affair in Cicero.

Although public opinion has swung back in his favor somewhat, Capone doesn't want to take any chances.

So he sends his armed footmen to the polls.

Cooperative citizens are encouraged to cast more than one vote.

But stubbornly uncooperative voters, those intending to cast their ballots for the wrong candidates, well, they're chased away with violence.

And that includes women.

They've only been allowed to vote since 1920, but Capone's enforcers aren't the most enlightened of men.

They don't like the idea of women voting, so most of them who show up to the polls are bullied into leaving, and those who don't are shoved aside and threatened with worse if they don't go quietly.

Cars full of gunmen are soon roaming the streets, and everyone's on edge.

Election officials are kidnapped, beaten and pistol-whipped by rival henchmen.

As the day wears on, news of this chaotic election reaches a Cook County judge in Chicago, who deputizes around 80 police officers to head to Cicero and try to restore order.

But by that stage, it's just throwing fuel on the fire.

Exactly what happens next isn't entirely clear, but at some point in the evening, Frank Capone is crossing a street when a line of eight or nine black sedans rolls towards him.

As black sedans are the car of choice for most gangsters, as well as the cops, it wouldn't be surprising if Frank draws his pistol first.

Then again, perhaps the police are feeling trigger happy after all the violence the gangs have unleashed in Cicero.

However it starts, a shootout begins in the middle of the street.

It ends with 28-year-old Frank Capone, dead on the pavement, his body riddled with lead.

He's not the only casualty of Election Day in Cicero.

Several other mobsters are killed, and at least two innocent local citizens die in the violence that mars the ballot.

But when the dust settles, it's Al Capone who stands victorious.

Despite the efforts of crusading journalist Robert St.

John, the Republican candidates have won.

Cicero will remain a welcoming home for Capone and Torrio's outfit, and all it's cost Capone is the life of his beloved older brother.

Three days after the election, Frank Capone is laid to rest with an extravagant funeral.

Capone and Torrio close all of their Cicero gambling dens and speakeasies for two hours.

Some 150 cars make up the motorcade, and there are $20,000 worth of flowers surrounding Frank's silver-plated coffin.

But Capone doesn't let his brother's death distract him for long.

Because despite his victory in the Cicero election, it's the city of Chicago that seizes Capone's attention.

By now, the crackdown introduced by the city's new mayor, Judge William Dever, has run out of steam.

The Chicago authorities simply don't have the resources to break the mob's grip on the city, especially when so many cops and other officials are on the gangsters' payroll.

So, Chicago is once again the unchallenged capital of crime in America.

And its streets are increasingly contested territory.

Torrio might have corralled most of Chicago's criminal organizations into one pen, but there are still some in the outfit who rebel against his leadership.

Either they chafe at the length of leash he and Capone allow them, or they want to go back to the way things used to be.

And then there are rivals like the Northside gang who oppose the outfit.

They don't need an excuse to go after Capone and Torrio.

So whatever the reason, more than one person wants Johnny Torrio dead.

And on January 24th, 1925, they take their shot.

It's about nine months after the violent Cicero elections.

43-year-old Torrio and his wife are just getting home after a day out shopping in the city.

When their driver pulls up outside their apartment, the couple, laden down with packages, clamor out of the car and head for the building.

They're distracted, chatting with each other and thanking their driver, so they're not paying attention to the large sedan that's careening down the street towards them.

The car comes to a screeching halt and out jump a pair of men, Jaime Wise and Bugs Moran.

The two thugs are both senior members of the Northside gang that openly challenges Torrio's outfit, and today they're out for blood.

Brandishing their guns, they fire first to Torrio's driver, then turn their attention to Torrio himself.

They shoot Chicago's most influential mobsters several times in the upper torso.

Then, when their target is helpless on the ground, Moran moves in to take the kill shot.

Moran gets up close, close enough to see the blood soaking through the older man's winter coat.

He holds his gun to Torrio's head.

A sinister smile curls at the corners of Moran's mouth as he squeezes the trigger.

Nothing happens.

The gun won't fire.

Either it's jammed or Moran's out of bullets.

Knowing that the cops can't be far off, Moran and Wise race back to their car and speed away.

They expect Torrio to die from his wounds, but instead he's rushed to the hospital where surgeons manage to save his life.

When investigators visit Torrio in his sickbed, they ask who tried to kill him, but Torrio keeps his mouth shut.

Like every other mobster in the city, he observes Omerta, the gangland code of silence, and not even a few bullets will convince him to talk.

He spends a month in the hospital recovering from the attempt on his life, and while Torrio convalesces, Capone keeps watch over his mentor, sleeping on a cot in an adjoining room.

It's that loyalty that endears Capone even further to Torrio, and it's why, as Torrio recovers, he feels comfortable in the knowledge that there's a steady hand on the wheel, because although the outfit wields considerable power, a storm is brewing in Chicago, and it's a maelstrom that will leave the streets of the city red with blood.

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It's the morning of November 10th, 1924 in Chicago, a few months before the attempt on Johnny Torrio's life.

At a flower shop on North State Street, the owner Dean O'Banion is checking that he's got the orders ready for an upcoming funeral.

The city's gangsters go all out when they're bidding farewell to one of their own, and O'Banion makes a mint every time there's bloodshed.

It's a strange position to be in, profiting off of so much death.

But O'Banion's no stranger to the realities of the criminal underworld.

In addition to his floristry business, he's also the leader of Chicago's Northside gang, and one of the few groups not aligned with Johnny Torrio and Al Capone's outfit.

Still, O'Banion mostly gets along with everyone.

After all, he prepares flowers for allies and enemies alike.

So when three men enter his shop this bright chilly morning, he greets them warmly.

One of the men stands a few paces in front of his companions and goes to shake hands with O'Banion.

The customer has an unmistakable New York accent, which isn't all that unusual.

There are plenty of transplants in Chicago.

What is strange is that the customer grabs hard to O'Banion's arm when he holds it out to shake.

He won't let go.

And for one terrifying moment, O'Banion knows what's about to happen.

The two men who hung back each produce a gun and shoot O'Banion while he's held in place.

Bullets hit his chest, head and throat, any one of them fatal shots.

Then, with their target dying on the floor, surrounded by funeral arrangements, the three assassins make a hasty exit from the store.

In the aftermath of the hit, descriptions of the killers circulate and seem to match three gangsters known for being hired guns.

Frankie Yale, a sometimes hitman and longtime associate of Al Capone and Johnny Torrio, as well as John Scalise and Albert Anselmi, a pair of gunmen tied to the Jenna crime family, allies of the outfit.

As usual with gangland murders, no arrests are made in the case, but the assassinations sets at odds two powerful groups, O'Banion's Northside gang and the Jenna's.

There's never been much love lost between them, but now the Northsiders believe that the Jenna's killed their leader and they're determined to get revenge.

So, in the spring of 1925, the leader of the Italian gang, Angelo Jenna, has a target on his back.

His number finally comes up on May 25th when he's ambushed in the city.

His assassins are gone before the authorities arrive, and although he initially survives the attack, Angelo won't name the men who shot him.

He dies that same day, silent to the end.

The leader of the North Side gang is dead.

Now the leader of the Jenna family is dead.

But Angelo's murder doesn't end the beef between Chicago's mobsters.

It's out and out war.

Over the next few weeks, running battles scar the streets of Chicago.

There are drive-bys, assassinations and deadly shootouts with the cops.

In just over a month, two more Jenna brothers are dead.

Their gang's power is all but broken.

The surviving family members flee the city, and the North Siders seize their territory.

Some Jenna loyalists remain in Chicago, though.

The one thing they manage to hold on to is control of the Unione Siciliana.

Also known as the Italo-American National Union, the Unione is part of a larger nationwide organization that yields a lot of power in the local community.

Before his murder, Angelo Jenna had been president.

And now, one of his surviving lieutenants, Salvatore Somoz Amatuna, declares himself the new president.

But leadership of the Unione Siciliana is a coveted prize among the mobsters of Chicago.

Uneasy lies the head who wears the crown.

The fighting in the Windy City isn't over yet.

All in all, it's a breathless, bloody few months.

And it seems like Capone and the rest of the outfit have managed to stay out of the crosshairs.

But perhaps there's a reason for that.

Rumors have it that it was in fact Capone who orchestrated the Jenner murders as a way to get the O'Neone under his control.

Now Samuatz is making things difficult.

He starts using his position to bully Italian business owners into making donations to a legal defense fund for two Jenner gunmen awaiting trial.

That's not so much of a big deal now, but it will cause trouble down the line.

For now, though, Samuatz himself only makes trouble until the evening of November 10th, 1925.

That's when he's assassinated in a barber shop on Roosevelt Road.

The war between the Northsiders and the Jenners has raged for an entire year by this point.

But as there's not many in the Jenner gang left to kill, things seem to have settled at last.

The organized crime landscape in Chicago feels stable for the first time in months.

It's around this time that Johnny Torrio makes an announcement.

He's fully recovered from the attempted hit in January, but the whole episode has shaken him.

The thought of leaving his beloved wife a widow is too much for him to bear.

So he's getting out.

He's leaving Chicago and heading to Europe.

It's the kind of news that might spell disaster for the outfit.

Some estimates put their gross annual income at this point near the $70 million mark, which would be close to $1.2 billion today.

Now the man who brought it all together, the visionary who united so many of the city's gangsters, is running scared.

It could lead to a dangerous power vacuum in Chicago, but Torio has been planning this moment for years.

And as he steps down, there's already someone ready and able to take his place, 26-year-old Al Capone.

Given that the transition has been a half decade in the making, it's a smooth handoff.

But as Capone settles onto his new throne, there's more trouble brewing in Little Italy.

The legal defense fund that Samut was extorting out of Chicago businessmen has no real purpose after Samut's assassination.

But the guy in charge of raising the money, Horacio Tropea, wants to keep collecting.

He doesn't have charitable intentions.

He wants the money for himself, and the menacing 44-year-old isn't content to take no for an answer.

He visits Italian owned businesses, demanding more donations from them.

And when people refuse to contribute, he kills them.

At least three business owners from Little Italy die by Tropea's hand, which convinces terrified neighbors to open their wallets.

Tropea and his footmen eagerly take people's money until February 15, 1926.

That evening, a shotgun blast from a passing car hits Tropea in the head.

The following weekend, one of his men catches a bullet in his forehead.

Days later, another of the collectors turns up dead.

It's a chaotic start to the year in a city that's already got a reputation as a haven for organized crime.

And with the violence poised to spiral out of control, people start to wonder if Al Capone is really up to the job of keeping Chicago's mobsters in line.

Johnny Torrio pulled off an incredible trick when he united so many competing gangs under one umbrella.

But with him out of the picture, there's blood in the water and the sharks are circling.

Everyone in the city is watching to see if Capone will hold on to the throne that was built for him.

Or if he'll crumble at the first test of his leadership.

From Airship, this is episode 2 in our series about Al Capone.

On the next episode, Al Capone comes out swinging.

But after surviving a dramatic assassination attempt and orchestrating the murder of one of his closest allies, it's his attempt to eliminate the competition that sets in motion his ultimate downfall.

If you'd like to learn more about Al Capone, we recommend Mr.

Capone, The Real and Complete Story of Al Capone by Robert J.

Schoenberg, and Capone, His Life, Legacy and Legend by Deidre Blair.

This episode may contain reenactments or dramatized details, and while in some cases we can't know exactly what happened, all our dramatizations are based on historical research.

American Criminal is hosted, edited and produced by me, Jeremy Schwartz.

Audio Editing by Mohammed Shazeed.

Sound Design by Matthew Filler.

Music by Thrum.

This episode is written and researched by Joel Callan.

Managing Producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are Joel Callan, William Simpson and Lindsey Graham for Airship.

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