Gangster by Lorenzo Carcaterra

religiously and stood by Angelo, ensuring no harm would come to the boy at the hands of any other neighborhood toughs. He felt the best way to ensure Angelo's safety was to be seen constantly at his side, in full view of all the hungry eyes searching the city streets for targets and scores. The fact that Angelo was Italian made Pudge's task even more daunting. Back then, Italians were seen as little more than thieves, moving by the thousands into what had once been Irish strongholds and stealing all the low-paying jobs. Street fights between the two groups occurred daily and any truce that was forged always proved fleeting.
        By the winter of 1913, as the bitter taste of World War I depressed the country's spirit, New York City's streets had become ethnic battle zones. It was the age of the Gangs, a crime-controlled period in which more than one hundred fifty rampaging squads ruled over the citizenry by the sheer force of their hard fists. The borough-wide municipal police department was understaffed, poorly trained and alarmingly corrupt. Random slayings occurred daily throughout the city, with overpopulated lower Manhattan leading the case files. Daylight muggings and holdups were so commonplace, they hardly merited a passing spectator's glance let alone a mention in the next morning's newspapers. Well-equipped and organized teams of home invaders cleared apartments of their dwellers' meager possessions, transforming hot swag into instant cash through an intricate network of well-positioned fences.
        Prostitution was rampant, feeding off the frustrated desires of hardscrabbling immigrants looking to ease their plights by seeking comfort in unknown arms. A pimp or madam with a dependable stable of attractive women could clear a $400 profit per week--the equivalent of the police commissioner's annual salary. The majority of the working prostitutes were runaways, fleeing the dense poverty of other climes, though a small handful were either widows left without any income or wives of men unable to find work of their own.
        Saloons and bars dotted the downtown landscape and most were filled to capacity six nights a week, pouring out watered-down beer, bathtub gin and week-old whiskey to tired faces and eager hands. Most mornings, the streets were lined with men dozing against doorways or stooped under parked stalls, their financial and family troubles reduced to foggy memories.
        But by far the biggest vice confronting the immigrants and the one that encouraged addiction on a daily basis was gambling. The passion for betting on a daily number was common ground between Italian and Irish immigrants in turn-of-the-century New York, and an army of street hustlers and gangsters was eager to profit from this passion. Hundreds dealt in the fast and deadly numbers game. Many became rich. More than a few died in the attempt.
        No one was better at it than a thin, dapper man with a soft voice and an easy smile.
        His name was Angus McQueen.
        On the street he came to be known as Angus the Killer, and he rose to criminal prominence after spending his formative years as a high-ranking member of the Gophers, one of the more powerful Manhattan gangs. They ruled through the strength of their number, counting as many as five hundred members at their peak. The area running from Seventh Avenue down to the Hudson River, covering Twenty-third to Forty-second Streets, formed the heart of Gopher territory.
        Their gentle name belied their barbarous natures. The gang was called Gophers because their hideouts and stash drops were located in tenement basements. They were often at war with rival gangs, most notably the sinister Five Points and the vicious Eastmans. It seemed as if each week brought news of the death or clubbing of at least one member of one of the squads.
        Beyond their ease with cracking heads and maiming bodies, a few of the more notable gang leaders displayed a unique flair for