This novel serves as an introduction to—and a bridge into—the 1950s and ’60s, should my readers (and the publishing industry) be interested in following my detective and me into these fascinating, suitably crime-filled eras. Thus this novel centers not on a famous crime so much as a famous time in crime, when the TV-fueled shadow of congressional inquiries…not only Kefauver’s beneficial one but McCarthy’s injurious one…fell across the American landscape. The unsolved murder of William Drury—the theory behind the solution of which I, as usual, stand behind—may not have the household-name familiarity of some of Heller’s previous cases; but it remains an historically significant, important, even pivotal crime.
My research assistant George Hagenauer and I began gathering material for this novel in 1985—and our first hurdle, sixteen years later, was locating the research materials we’d assembled for a book we had both back in ’85 assumed would be happening soon; and our second one was refamiliarizing ourselves with that material, specifically, and with Chicago mob history, in general.
I had the additional chore of renewing my general Chicago chops (George, born and raised in Chicago, has this stuff in his blood). I always thank George for his help, but this time I really should shout that gratitude from a rooftop. (Also, though he hasn’t taken an active role in the research in some time, Mike Gold was one of the original architects of the Heller Chicago/mob history; thanks, Mike.)
Much of what George gathered for
As indicated in the text, the lively journalism of Jack Lait and Lee Mortimer was key to this work; if my portrait of Mortimer was in any way unflattering, chalk that up to his karma…but know that I love reading the Lait/Mortimer
Most of the characters in this book are real-life figures and appear under their actual names. Jackie Payne is a fictional character, however, suggested by Rocco Fischetti’s documented wenching and woman-beating, including throwing a former Miss Chicago out of the Barry Apartments penthouse, leaving her and her bags on the nearest street corner. Fred Rubinski is a fictionalized Barney Ruditsky, a real-life ex-cop turned private eye in Los Angeles. Tim O’Conner is a fictional character, as is lawyer Kurnitz; both have historical counterparts, though I do not mean to impart the sins of the fictional characters upon the real people. O’Conner is designed to suggest that traitors existed on the police force, while Kurnitz suggests the not too radical theory that criminal lawyers are sometimes as much criminal as lawyer.
My portrait of Estes Kefauver is drawn primarily from the following sources:
Two books relating to Kefauver, however, must be singled out as particularly key to this novel: the first-rate scholarly work
I am an enormous Frank Sinatra fan, with an extensive library of books on the singer, his life, and his art; the portrait in this novel—meant to be fair and even affectionate, without ducking certain realities—was primarily drawn from
Jayne Mansfield and her first husband Paul are, obviously, real people; I remind my readers that these are, like all of the characterizations in this novel, fictionalizations. The story Vera tells in this novel about her rape is one reported in several books and something she apparently told from time to time; but I have reason to disbelieve it— and its suggestion about the paternity of her first child. Also, the events in her life described herein—including her studying at UCLA and her attempt to become Miss California, as well as Paul’s objections to both— have been moved in time a few months, to accommodate the needs of this narrative. Consulted were
Major sources for the Drew Pearson characterization were
Three books on Chicago crime were very helpful:
Many other general Chicago books were consulted, including
