Operation Underworld: How the Mafia and U.S. Government Teamed Up to Win World War II

But of all the rackets that Lansky ran, the most notorious was his murder-for-hire business that the press called “Murder Inc.”

The Italians who controlled the docks—primarily in Manhattan and Brooklyn—were part of a very large criminal syndicate that ran the unions, transportation in and out, and loading—basically every job that handled weapons and supplies. It was this syndicate that Haffenden was trying, in vain, to infiltrate.

The city’s population mostly stayed the same, as the largest manufacturing city in the country failed to secure early war production contracts. Small factories, which New York City was full of, had nothing to produce, and more jobs were actually lost than gained.

Since Genovese left the United States in 1937, he’d been setting up drug networks that flowed through the veins of Axis-occupied Europe. Ciano even supplied a plane for Genovese so he could pick up contraband in North Africa and the Middle East and bring it back to Italy for distribution.

No one was saying anything, as the longshoremen and stevedores were mostly Italians, and they practiced their strict code of acting “D ’n’ D,” or “Deaf and Dumb,” when confronted by nosey authorities. “Mum” was the word, as the ancient Padrone System, brought over from the old world, ruled their behavior.

At Dannemora it had been especially hard, and oftentimes when Luciano had been taken back to his cell after their visits, he’d bang his head against the wall. One time he needed stitches because he split his head open.

In the freezing winter, the prisoners feared the walk to the bucket house, as small spills of urine and excrement combined to form one giant, putrid sheet of ice. It made the ground so hard that it was common for inmates to slip and break bones when landing in their neighbor’s frozen shit.

Becoming an entrepreneur was not in the cards for Haffenden, so he decided to go the corporate route. He worked as a salesman for a brick concern, then in the marketing department of the National Biscuit Company.

In 1915, when he was eighteen years old, he was sent to New Hampton Reformatory Farms. Still pimple-faced and acne-scarred, the skinny Luciano was a target for other inmates who came at him ravenously. They teased him about his name (Salvatore) and called him an effeminate “Sallie,” as they made advances to try and rape him.

Members of the patrol forced captains to pay tribute (about $10 a load) if they wanted their fish unloaded and sold at Fulton. Then they charged the teamsters for loading their trucks and wagons.