Nation: The Rest Is Silence

Sam (“Momo”) Giancana is a top-echelon Chicago mobster who brags that he reads Shakespeare. As the star boarder of the Cook County jail for the past seven months, he has had plenty of time to brush up on the bard—and, no doubt, to reflect on Caesar’s fate and other most unkindest cuts. For whatever else he may have done in a long and lucrative career—and he has only twice gone to prison before—Sam at 57 is in durance vile for indulging his red-blooded American right to plead the Fifth Amendment.

Lippy, Unlamented Mobster. His sea of troubles washed over the hood last May, when U.S. Attorney Edward Hanrahan haled him before a grand jury and craftily granted him immunity from prosecution for any crimes to which he might admit complicity. But Giancana, the syndicate’s top man in Chicago, still refused to talk. Since he was thus in no danger of incriminating himself, a federal judge ruled that Sam was in contempt of court. Last week the U.S. Supreme Court upheld that ruling, in effect consigning him to his cell for as long as he chooses to say no—and the law’s delay may last longer than the pangs of dispriz’d love.

Backed by the Supreme Court ruling, the Justice Department intends to repeat its ploy of bringing top hoods before grand juries and promising them immunity if they testify. If any feel tempted to sing, they have only to remember the late unlamented Manny Skar, a lippy mobster who was unwise enough to threaten to talk to federal authorities if the boys refused to treat him right. They promptly treated him right. Manny was getting out of his car in the basement of his North Side apartment in September when he was shot dead by a couple of the boys.*

Fatal Humiliation. Among half a dozen other gangland obituaries in the past year, the boys also recall the somber fate of Murray (“The Camel”) Humphreys, a gangland fixer who could smooth out any legal or political hump—and leave no tracks at all in the underworld sand. When he also was called before a grand jury, The Camel lost his cool. Rather than land in jail for silence or six feet under for talking, he lied—so ineffectually that he was hauled in on a perjury charge. That night, out on bail and back in his Marina City Towers suite, The Camel died of a heart attack. The diagnosis was that he expired of acute humiliation.

Meanwhile, the mob was already split over who should succeed Silent Sam Giancana as head of Chicago’s hoodlumhood. One night last week two groups of aspiring chieftains reportedly held simultaneous meetings. One was attended by such upstanding citizens as Paul (“The Waiter”) Ricca, Tony (“Big Tuna”) Accardo and Jackie (“The Lackey”) Cerone. The other gathering was graced by Sam (“Teetz”) Battaglia, Felix (“Milwaukee Phil”) Alderisio and Fiori (“Fifi”) Buccieri. The betting was that several of the syndicate’s leading lights would soon resort to silence—one way or another.

* According to the Chicago Crime Commission, there have been 991 gangland killings in Chicago since the commission began keeping tabulations in 1919. Only 13 of the murders have resulted in convictions.