CHAPTER IX
THE SOCIETY
"'How could you manage in so many different places without knowing the language?' I inquired, not quite knowing the ramifications of the Mafia.
"'I found Italians everywhere, and would get directions from them until I found some
friends
.' He spoke the last word significantly.
"'Did you understand English then?'
"'Did not even dream of it.'
"'Have you worked while you have been in America?'
"'Never,' grinned Uncle Vincent. 'Neither do I expect to work. If I knew the man who invented work, and met him, I would kill him.'
"'What do you do to live?'
"'You are too young to know certain things,' he explained with a veiled glance. 'When you have become well interested in the affairs of our society you will know
how to live without work
.'
"'Then you belong to some society which gives you money?' I inquired, feigning stupidity.
"'Yes, but not like
your
societies. When you leave your societies and join ours you will feel better.'
"'And what is the price of initiation?'
"'Nothing.'
"'How will I be admitted then?'
"'We must try you with a courageous deed requiring secrecy.'
"'And what is this society of yours called?' I asked.
"'It has no name.'
"'Is it a mutual aid society?'
"'No.'
"'Where are its headquarters?'
"'In all parts of the world.'
"'In Italy?'
"'Yes, in Italy.'
"'Then it must be the Masons?'
"'What, the Masons? Pooh-pooh! my friend.
Ours
is a society that
never ends
and is bigger than the Masons.'
"'And when will you allow me to enter?'
"'I must school you first,' he grumbled, eyeing me suspiciously. 'And when you become known to the heads, and are respected, then we will christen you.'
"'You will christen me?' I exclaimed.
"'Yes.'
"'How is that? I have already been baptized in the Roman Catholic religion, and now you would baptize me again?'
"'Certainly!' he grinned. 'But it is not a matter of religion. You are christened into the society. We give you a title that you will bear in secret, a title that will make you obeyed and respected in all parts of the world.'
"'I am curious to attend a meeting of your society.'
"'In time you will attend; but first, I would have to ask the superiors.'
"At this moment I was called by Caterina and the discussion ended. I had absorbed enough to surmise about the vast, hidden power of the 'Black-Hand' menace reaching as it does with arms steeped in gore all around the globe."
CHAPTER X
MEETING THE ARCH-BANDIT
"At the end of January the Canadian five-dollar notes were completed and cut the size of the genuine. After being counted they amounted to seventeen thousand five hundred and forty dollars. They were put in an empty macaroni box and was nailed up and put away for Cecala, who was to have them exchanged for good money to various people whom he knew.
"On February 1st, 1909, not having received any word from New York, Giglio left and went to Cina's house to inquire the cause of the long silence. Next day Giglio returned, accompanied by Cecala and Cina, and fixed the press to print the two-dollar notes, check letter A, and plate number 1111. Having prepared the press Cecala and I fixed some green ink, but after several attempts to imitate the genuine Cecala decided we could not do it. That night Cecala gave me five dollars and told me that on February 4 I was to go to New York. I was to go to his house and there talk with a party who was capable of preparing the ink. Then admonishing me not to leave until Cina called for me with a carriage, Cecala left with Cina and Giglio.
"On February 4, about eight in the morning, Cina came to the stone house with Bernardo, the former to accompany me to the station and the latter to remain with Uncle Vincent and Caterina. I arrived in New York at noontime and went directly to Cecala's home at No. 92 East Fourth Street, where I found his wife who gave me a piece of paper after making sure of my identity.
"'My husband is waiting at the address written on the piece of paper,' she said. 'Ask for him in the bank on the ground floor.'
"The piece of paper contained this address: '630 East One Hundred and Thirty-Eighth Street.'
"Arriving at One Hundred and Thirty-Eighth Street I found the house I was seeking and asked for Cecala. A well-dressed man told me that Cecala would not return until two o'clock. It was then half after one and the man told me to return in a half hour. In the meantime I walked over toward the L station thinking I might meet Cecala. I returned to the address written on the paper after walking around for about forty minutes without seeing Cecala. I was told to take a seat and the well-dressed man telephoned to Cecala, who arrived in a few minutes and invited me upstairs with him. I went up to a room on the second floor and there met two men.
"Cecala introduced me to one of the men who was tall, wrapped up in a shawl of brown color, of oval face and high forehead. He had dark eyes, an aquiline nose, dark hair, and dark mustache. He appeared to be about forty years old. As he was walking about the room I noticed particularly that this man had one arm outside the shawl and the other hidden beneath the wrap. Could he be hiding a weapon? The other man remained seated in a chair. He was about thirty or thirty-five years old, of medium build with dark curly hair, sallow complexion. His nose was a little flattened, he had a brown mustache, brown eyes, and wore a cap 'A la Sicilian.' Cecala introduced the first man as Mr. Morello and the second as 'Michele, the Calabrian.'
"Morello bade me make myself comfortable. Then he gave me a piercing glance and said slowly:
"'How is it, professor, that you cannot succeed in reaching a color like the green on the two-dollar notes?'
"'I told Mr. Cecala from the beginning that this was not in my line of work,' I replied.
"'How is it that a printer like you don't know how to mix inks?'
"'I am experienced in composing and printing books, not in printing money.'
"'Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!' ejaculated the bandit comprehendingly. 'So, if you do not know how to mix the ink the bills cannot be printed?'
"'Certainly not.'
"'Well, we will find a man who knows how to prepare the inks, and I advise you to do the printing carefully so that the money can be easily exchanged. Save the Canadian notes because they are expensive to exchange. And just now we are without money and cannot incur extra expenses.'
"'I would rather leave this work and return to New York,' I ventured.
"'You are crazy,' yelled Cecala, who was still present. 'Now that we are at it we must complete it. If things go right, we will all be rich; but don't think of betraying us because
your life would be lost
if you did. You must never tell any one what you are doing at the peril of losing your life. If you get into danger because of the secret we will save you.'
"Morello eyed me sarcastically. He shot a menacing side-glance at me and uttered this warning in a low voice: 'Suppose you are arrested. Well, you must never tell that you know us, because we, remaining on the outside, can help you at the cost of losing our property. I advise you to be faithful to us. Remember, you are dealing with gentlemen.'
"'I understand that,' I said, feigning respect, 'but I am in great danger alone in the woods with the woman, and if I am taken by surprise I am ruined.'
"'How? Are you alone? Where is Uncle Vincent? Is he not there?'
"'Yes.'
"'He alone is enough to keep any one away from the house. Soon there will be other people to help you, and keep you company, and bring arms and ammunition. The first stranger that is suspected will be killed and buried in the woods.'
"Morello spoke this with a saturnine air of unconcern as if he had been discussing a smoke or a glass of wine. To this man murder was merely an incident to his trade.
"The arch-bandit now turned to Cecala, saying:
"'It would be well to ask Milone (Antonio B.), and see if he is able to make the green tint.' Milone is the man who made the plates.
"'Who cares to go to Two Hundred and Thirty-Ninth Street, in the Bronx, at this hour?' replied Cecala in disgusted protest. 'It can be done to-morrow.'
"'No. It is better that we send Nick (Sylvester) to-night,' said Morello with an air of finality that booked no dispute.
"'Do what you think, Piddu.
2
2
Piddu is the Sicilian diminutive for Giuseppe, the Christian name of Morello.
Suppose we arrange to send Don Antonio?'
"'Do not let him leave us, though.'
"'I know, and if he has to leave, I will accompany him,' concluded Cecala almost in a whisper.
"Cecala now invited me out with him, asked me where did I want to sleep, and when I told him at my aunt's, he offered to accompany me there.
"As we were about to leave the place Morello turned to Cecala and I overheard him say:
"'Nino, I wish you would not have the professor come here any more. You know there are detectives following me and as soon as they see a suspicious face they arrest him. The other night, as you know, they arrested father and son while they were going down the stairs.'
"'I know it,' replied Cecala, 'but what are your suspicions about Don Antonio?'
"'Well – er – sometimes you can't tell.'
"The 'Black-Hand' chief dropped into a brief reverie. Maybe he had a vague vision of the fate that was to befall him. The other man present, Michele, the Calabrian, had not uttered a single word during the entire conversation.
"After we had left the house Cecala turned to me and said with bated breath:
"'The man you saw with one hand is Giuseppe Morello, the same who was implicated in the barrel murder.'
"I did not reply because I did not know of Morello; neither did I know of the barrel murder. I only thought that he really had one arm because I did not see the other. From time to time Morello had been snuffing tobacco.
"'I want you to know all my friends so that you can have an idea with whom you are dealing, and don't think they are poor, but all landlords,' now confided Cecala. 'Morello is President of the Corleone Society (Ignatz Florio) and has in his power four buildings amounting to one hundred thousand dollars. The other man you met the last time, Pecoraro, is the proprietor of a large wine deposit, and he has more property. Giglio and Cina are owners of the estates that you saw. I am poor because I did not know how to profit. My profession is that of barber. I had a splendid shop, but the business was poor and I sold it. Two weeks after I sold the barber shop I got in with Morello and opened a grocery store in Mott Street. But after two years I was forced into bankruptcy because all the goods were sold on credit and I was not paid. Then I opened up two gambling houses, one in Mott Street and the other in Elizabeth Street. I was getting along well while I fed the police. When I did not want to give them any more they began to go against me and forced me to close up.'
"At the moment I could not understand why it should have been necessary to 'feed' the police, as he said, not being acquainted with the methods here."
CHAPTER XI
THE BLACK-HANDER'S POLICE PROTECTION
"'Certainly,' Cecala said. 'In America
everything is prohibited; but if you pay the police or detectives they will leave you in peace
. In this land money counts, so that if
you kill any one and have money you will get out of it
. Morello knows how much money he has given to detectives to get out free out of three or four cases in which he was implicated. Even now he is supposed to be watched by the police who do not care to watch him because they know that they will receive their bit. The government always holds him under suspicion as the head of the Black-Handers. When anything happens Morello is always in danger of arrest, but the same policeman he feeds tips him off and so Morello goes into hiding. The police then feign to raid his place, but, of course, the man wanted is never there. Now then, my dear Don Antonio, that's the way things are done in this country. During the last three years I am getting along well in my line: that is, I am the head of a band of incendiaries and earn a little money now and then.'
"Cecala was disclosing to me a phase of the under-world life of crime and horror of which I knew nothing at the time.
"'And what do you do to earn this money? Do you take the objects that you find in the burned houses?' I inquired.
"'No,' sneered Cecala with contempt. 'I set fire to the houses to defraud the insurance companies!'
"He said this with the pride of a professional expert.
"'And how do you do it?' I inquired, curious to learn his ways.
"'Well, you own a store and have insured it against fire. You have paid up the insurance and do not wish to pay any more, but you want to realize on the money already paid in. You will send for me to set a fire. In my manner I will develop a fire in an instant. When the insurance company pays you the money you pay me a percentage.'
"'Then perhaps you were the one who set the big fire in Mulberry Street where so many poor people were burned?'
"'No!' came the quick response. 'I do not set fire to make accidents happen. That fire was engineered by a Neapolitan band that were in accord with the proprietor of the dry goods store underneath. They did not work it right because they started the fire from the side of the store and afterwards put explosives on the stairs so that no trace would be left. If I had had that job there would have been no trace to tell the story, and the damage would have been done from the store door. There would not have been so many accidents and the families would have had time to run into the yard.'
"'How can you guarantee all this? And what explosive matter do you use to start a fire?' I inquired.
"'Glycerine,' mumbled the bandit. 'I mix it with other matters. It does not smell and leaves no trace of the fire.'
"'And do you go alone on these jobs?'
"'No. You always need three or four men. I direct them and they bring the material. I pay each man five dollars a night.'
"'And these helpers, do they make much money?'
"'Quite some – now and then. They risk their hides. But it is not steady work, you know; only on occasions.'
"The train arrived at the station and Cecala indicated a seat separate from him so as not to invite suspicion. At Houston Street he signalled for me to get off, and when in the street he asked me where my aunt lived. When I told him in Bleecker Street he said: 'I will accompany you. Let us go to a drug store near by first. I must ask something.'
"We went to Spring Street and entered a drug store with a sign over the door spelling the name of 'Antonio Mocito.' Cecala asked a boy in the store where the druggist might be and the boy replied that he was out. Cecala told the boy to inform the druggist that he, Cecala, had been there and to prepare 'that matter.'
"'I put this druggist right!' boasted Cecala in a low voice. 'He had a drug store and did a little business. I suggested to him that he insure the store against fire. After he had paid up for a little while, I put fire to it and the company paid him three thousand dollars with which he put up this new store. So you see, he was saved!'
"On the way to my aunt's house Cecala made many suggestions to me warning me that I was to tell my aunt nothing. He told me to meet him at his home at six o'clock the next morning. This was at 6 P. M.
"I leave it to the reader's imagination to picture the condition of mind I was in after learning of the kind of 'gentlemen' I was obliged to deal with. I had been caught in a trap set by a band of incendiaries and Black-Handers enjoying police protection. What good would it have done me to go to the police about it? What could anybody in my position do under the circumstances? I thought it would be better to keep silent and save my life until I had occasion to denounce the gang. I was secretly awaiting this opportunity without their knowledge. Then, again, how could I proceed against them without witnesses?
"The thought that afflicted me with most concern was the fate of the lady. I realized that her consent to my desire had caused her to be mixed up with bad people. I also realized that if we were discovered by the police, Caterina and I would be the only ones to suffer because we were alone and without any help from any one and penniless.
"I summoned all the courage I could muster. I always appeared to be contented with the orders that were given me, and I executed them without finding the least objection.
"I was daily afflicted by the life I was leading, and was continually disturbed in my mind because I saw that I had not one penny, and when I asked for money I was bluntly refused. It also worried me to think that my family believed I was working and making money without sending any home. Time and again I planned to run away, but how? Where would I go? I would have to abandon all my things and be left out in the street. And who would help me? A penniless stranger.
"On the morning of February 5, 1909, it was snowing and very cold when I went to the home of Cecala at the appointed hour. He invited me to sit down and his wife served me with coffee. I saw his five children, quite sympathetic children, three girls and two boys. In looking at them I was seized by remorse to think that these innocent children as the offspring of a criminal would probably be converted into criminals also in time. Cecala told me brusquely that we would have to leave on the ten o'clock train in spite of the snow.
"'When we arrive at Highland there will be no one about the station, and we will arouse no suspicion,' explained Cecala.
"'Have you found the man to prepare the ink?' I asked.
"'Yes. He is coming with us. Here is a dollar. Go to your aunt and meet us at the Grand Central Station. I am going to Don Piddu's (Morello's) to get other inks that were bought last night. But now that I think about it, meet me at the Brooklyn Bridge and you will buy some green ink, because they would not sell it to me. Say you are a printer and refer them to the shop where you were working.'
"'And if they object, what shall I reply?'
"'I will understand.'
"'And what kind of ink is it necessary to buy?'
"'The kind we need are marked in the catalogue.'
"'And who has marked them?'
"'A professor who has done other work for me and is very practical at his work. If necessary, he will come and work together with you.'
"Cecala took me to a store on Rose Street where he employed sign language to explain the kind of ink he wanted. A young lady asked questions in English which I could not answer. Cecala then interrupted and tried to act as interpreter. I was confused for a moment. Then I took out a bill head with my name on it which I had used while I acted as solicitor for work in an Italian printing shop in Mott Street. The young lady read it, and after about twenty minutes she returned, giving me three cans of ink and the bill, which Cecala paid.
"Cecala now directed me to go to my aunt's place before meeting him at the Grand Central Station in time for the ten o'clock train. There I met the man who was to assist me in printing the counterfeit bills. The reader may now appreciate the sagacity of Cecala in leaving me after coming out of the ink store. It gave him the advantage to meet the mysterious man who was to help in the mixing of the inks, and it also gave him a chance to throw anybody off the trail if there were detectives following.
"At the Grand Central Station we met the man with the camera. Cecala bought three tickets for Poughkeepsie. Arriving there we found Cina waiting for us with a closed carriage. He drove to another station and then to a ferry where we went across the river to Highland and from there to the clandestine factory. Supper was waiting for us there, and we rested till the next morning to start work. During the evening, Cecala, Cina, Uncle Vincent and the other man played cards while Bernardo and I chopped wood for the stove.
"On the morning of February 6, 1909, we got the press ready. The man whose name I had not yet been given mixed the ink. After taking some proofs the right shade of green was developed. The unnamed man then explained to me that by mixing black and yellow I would obtain an olive green, and by mixing this color with the clear green in the cans which were brought up from New York, the right shade of green, just like the genuine money color, would be obtained. He explained this so that I could mix up more in case the ink he had mixed would not be sufficient to print the ten thousand sheets of the two-dollar bills, which would make twenty thousand dollars in counterfeit money. Then he measured the genuine note and marked where the seal was to be printed. He also prepared the blue shade of ink for this impression. He advised me to pay close attention to the black.
"We were alone in the room while he was instructing me, and I told him that I had little faith in Cecala and his companions because they did not give me any money, and made me remain without a penny after having worked a long time. He told me that I ought to be contented, for I was dealing with gentlemen. In olden times, he said, men in that line of work, when the work had been done, would
assassinate
the one doing the very work I was doing.
The man was murdered
, he explained to me,
so that the counterfeiters would not be discovered
and the secret revealed to the police.
"'Is there any danger of my being assassinated after completing this work?' I asked.
"'No,' he said, 'there is no danger. You are dealing with good people.'
"After he was through with his work he wanted to see how the printing progressed and how many an hour were struck off. He was trying to figure whether the work could be completed in fifteen days.
"We worked at the press until about 4 P. M., when there were over three thousand sheets printed on one side. This progress seemed to satisfy the photographer and ink mixer. At about 4:30 P. M., Cina, Cecala and Bernardo went away with the stranger, leaving Uncle Vincent behind with me. Before leaving, Cecala said that Giglio would come next morning to help and, if necessary, Bernardo would return also. Cecala said that when the green side of the printing was completed, and I saw that a change in the ink was necessary, I was to leave the plant and meet him in New York. Hereupon Uncle Vincent declared that it was necessary to have Bernardo present in order that some one could be watching outside the stone house and keep an eye out for strangers. Cecala consented, and Bernardo remained with us to do sentinel duty. Next morning Giglio came, and he and Uncle Vincent and myself worked on without interruption. Bernardo, armed with a revolver and a rifle, remained on the outside, having received orders from Uncle Vincent to fire a shot into the air in the event of strangers appearing. This was to be the signal for us.
"On February 9, 1909, the