Jakob’s American Dream

Historical Fiction by James Bremer, Sr.

In 1935 I was a year out of law school and an Assistant Prosecutor on New York District Attorney Thomas Dewey’s staff when I got a call from him asking, “Mr. Jensen, how would you like to help me send that bastard Charles Luciano up the river?”  I replied, “Yes sir, I would love that assignment”, and he filled me in on the details. “He’s been arrested quite a few times for petty crimes but if we can convict Luciano of forced prostitution, he’ll go to prison for several decades.”

How do we get the conviction? I asked.

Mr. Dewey explained, “We found a man who worked for Lansky, Siegal, and Luciano and knows a great deal about their operations. He was also a bootlegger, but no one cares now that Prohibition is over.   We caught him trying to bribe a police officer.  He knows a prostitute who works in one of Luciano’s brothels, against her will according to her.  They will both tell us all they know and testify if we will clear them of all charges and provide them with new identities.  Secrecy is paramount, of course.  They might be murdered if their plans are discovered.”

Mr. Dewey expanded on his strategy, “I’m not interested in prosecuting women for prostitution, particularly because many of them are not in the business of their own free will.  Some are addicts who need to get dope from Luciano’s organization.  Many have been coerced by violence or threats of violence.  Luciano runs brothels all over New York City and beyond, but he is clever enough not to have direct contact with the prostitutes.  However, one of our Assistant DA’s, Eunice Carter, works at Riker’s Island, and noticed that the same lawyers were springing women arrested for prostitution from all over town, using the same bail bondsmen.  She gained the confidence of several women and got them to talk.  The women all told her they heard that Luciano is pulling the strings. “

“How do I contact the man and woman who are willing to testify?” I requested, and Mr. Dewey filled me in on the details, “The man, Jakob Moskowitz, owns a several delis in New York City.  I’ll arrange for him to be at one where you can go shortly before closing time, slip into the men’s room, and wait for him to get you after he shoos out any customers who may be lingering.”

“Jakob Moskowitz?” I exclaimed. “I just read an article about him in the New York Times, It said he’s a child of poor Russian Jewish immigrants who started out as a teenager selling bagels and bread from a pushcart on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.  It said he persevered though hard, honest work and now owns several delis and bakeries and makes generous donations to charity.”

“Hard work, perhaps, but honest work? No.” Mr. Dewey explained. “He did start out as a poor peddler selling bagels and bread out of his pushcart, but he became involved with gangsters.  When Prohibition began in 1920, he used that pushcart to transport Canadian whisky from the dockside to speakeasies owned by the Jewish mob.  They bankrolled his delis and used him to launder their bootlegging profits and to hand out bribes.  He also began delivering booze to brothels controlled by Luciano, including the one where this prostitute works.”

The next evening, I went to Jakob’s deli according to plan.  After closing, he retrieved me from the bathroom.  I identified myself, “Hi, I’m Christopher Jensen from the Prosecutor’s office,” and he quickly ushered me into a back room.  

Jakob told the story of his early life, “My parents left Russia in 1900, ‘cause of the pogroms.  They settled here in New York City, where I was born in 1905.  My parents baked bagels and bread but were too poor to rent a store, so my father peddled them from a pushcart.  When my father died of Spanish Influenza in 1919, I quit school and took over his pushcart peddling job.”

“Within the first week, I got mobbed by a gang of ‘starkers’: hoods demanding protection money,” Jakob explained, “I threatened to report them to the cops, but they just laughed, stole lotsa my bagels, and tipped over my cart, ruining the rest of them in a mud puddle.  I told my mother I’d report them to the cops, but she said ‘Forget about it.  Other people who seen what them starkers done gonna be afraid to rat them out, and the cops wouldn’t do nothing even if they did. It ain’t right, but you gotta pay the protection money.’  So, I paid.  The starkers left me alone and even beat up some other kids who tried to steal from my pushcart. The payoff cut into my profit, but I cleared enough to buy food and pay the rent for our slum tenement.”

“Who were these starkers? I asked.

Jakob explained, “A gang of teenage Jewish boys.  Their two leaders are now very notorious: Meyer Lansky and Benjamin Siegal.  Nobody dared call him Bugsy to his face.   They were also hooked up with the Italian mobsters led by Lucky Luciano.  When prohibition hit in 1920, Lucky started smuggling Canadian whisky into the port.  Meyer and Ben came to me and said I could use my pushcart to transport imported Nova Scotia lox from the Fulton Fish Market together with my bagels to several delis and speakeasies they controlled.  They could fit my pushcart with a hidden compartment to hold several bottles of Canadian whisky so I could smuggle it to their joints.  I told ‘em ‘I don’t know about that,’ but they insisted, ’We ain’t asking you; we’re telling you!’” 

So, that’s how you got into the bootlegging business?” I asked.  “And the bootlegging business was quite successful, wasn’t it?”

Jakob nodded in confirmation, and continued, “My mother kept on baking the bagels, and my kid sister started helping her out.  I got a cut for transporting the whisky, and several years later I had enough money to replace my pushcart with a truck.  The truck was also fitted with a compartment under its floorboards to hide booze. Over the next few years, I grew both my bootlegging and my legitimate baking business,”

Then Jakob described the money laundering scheme, “When Al Capone got convicted for income tax evasion in 1931, the mob realized they gotta do a better money laundering job.  Meyer Lansky was very clever with money.  I had a clean record, so he got the ownership of several delis transferred into my name.  On the books, I boosted up both the amount and the prices of everything I sold to disguise the bootleg profits as legitimate. ‘After all, the Feds can’t tell how many bagels you sell.  You can tell ‘em the dog ate the evidence.’  Meyer told me.  He also told me to ‘make myself a hero’ by donating lotsa bread to soup kitchens, food pantries, and other charities that feed the poor.  We’d gone into the Great Depression, so plenty o’ people needed food.”  

“Up to now, I ain’t never been arrested, so I could launder money for the mob and hand out bribes to cops who knew too much.  How was I to know I’d run into an honest cop?” said Jakob, shaking his head in disbelief.  “Ever since prohibition was repealed in 1933, the mob’s been making money mainly from cathouses, narcotics, and gambling.   I laundered their profits, and I also collected bets and made payouts on horse races and the numbers for their bookies.  I kept on selling booze, openly ‘cause it’s legal now.  More business but less profit.  Meyer started stashing money in secret Swiss banking accounts, so he don’t need me to launder money so much no more.”  

“What about the prostitute?” I asked.

Jakob reacted in anger. “I wish you wouldn’t call her that.  Luciano’s pimps force her to turn tricks against her will.  Last year, I met her at the so-called ‘hotel’ where they keep her and where I deliver booze three times a week.  They let me have a girl after each delivery.  No charge: they called it a professional courtesy.  I soon went just to this young lady, and after she got to know me, she told me how they forced her into it.  She told me she’d risk testifying if you can free her from that living hell.   I’ll tell you her name and arrange a meeting if, and only if, you agree not to prosecute us.”

I asked Jakob if he had any direct contact with Luciano, and he replied, “Luciano, he ain’t stupid.  I never seen him face-to-face and so far as I know, none of his girls did neither.  He figures guys under him may have to take the fall, but he stays ‘insulated’ as some of them guys call it. “

Then I asked Jakob if he had ever shot anyone, committed armed robberies, sold narcotics, or transported them, and he said “No.”  I told him, “I’m not authorized to grant you immunity on my own, but I’ll check with Mr. Dewey.  I’m certain he won’t prosecute the woman for prostitution.  For your testimony and cooperation, he’ll probably give you a pass for gambling, bootlegging, money laundering, and attempted bribery. “

Mr. Dewey’s gave his approval, and I got back to Jakob to set up a meeting with him and the woman.  Jakob told me that her name was Patsy Esposito.  He said that the madam didn’t usually trust Patsy to leave the brothel as a call girl but made an exception for him.  He made an appointment to pick her up and take her to his deli after closing time one evening, so I planned to conceal myself there until after they arrived.   

I teased my wife, telling her I had a rendezvous with a prostitute, but she laughed and replied, “I trust you, Chris.  You’re too damn cheap to pay for something you can get for free.”

I met with Jakob and Patsy in the back room of Jakob’s deli, according to plan.  Patsy told me her life story.  “You probably think I’m a real floozie, willing to sell my body to any man who can pay for it.  I was stupid and naïve and made some poor choices, but I certainly didn’t volunteer for this life.  I was born in Sicily into a poor family.  My father was a sailor who worked on an ocean liner that made frequent trips to America.  He learned to speak English and taught me and my mother to speak it too.  He was planning to move our family to America as soon as he saved enough money.  That plan ended when I was 17.  My father was killed in a vendetta, and I was raped.  I was ‘damaged merchandise’, so no respectable man wanted to marry me.  I did cleaning, laundry, and cooking for other families, but I was becoming less and less able to put food on the table for myself and my mother, who can hardly walk.”

“Then along came one of Luciano’s relatives.”  Jakob injected.

“Yes, he came and claimed to be a knight in shining armor who would solve all my problems.”  She explained. “He told me that he had a rich cousin, Mr. Luciano, who owned several hotels in New York City, and was looking for workers who could speak English.  They would pay for my passage to America and leave my mother with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of her life.  He told me that I could pay back the money by working as a maid in one of those hotels.” 

“The ‘hotel’ was the cathouse that became my prison.  For the first two weeks, I worked only a maid, cleaning the rooms, changing the sheets and laundering them.  Since they rented rooms by the hour, there was plenty of cleaning and laundry to do.  After that, the madam told me that my ‘wages’ were not enough to pay for my room and board, and for the interest on the loan that Mr. Luciano had made for my passage and my mother’s payment.”

“I told the madam, ‘I’m working as hard as I can.’ but she said, ‘No you’re not.  Don’t play dumb with me.  You’re a fine-looking young gal, and you can make plenty of money doing what the other gals do.’  I pleaded with her, saying that I would only lie with a man for love and not for money.  She slapped my face and pulled my hair.  I punched her in the mouth, knocking her down.  She screamed and two of her pimps rushed into the room.  They punched me in the stomach, pinned me down, and beat me with a belt.  They threatened to it give to me again if I didn’t obey the madam.”

Patsy continued, “I knew I couldn’t resist, so I went along with them.  They fitted me with a couple of sexy dresses and lingerie, got me new makeup, perfume, and nail polish, and gave me a new hairdo.  They told me that the cost of these ‘improvements to make me more desirable’ would be added to the debt I owed them.  The so-called hotel has a bar where the johns come looking for action.  I gotta flirt with any man who walks in and ask him to buy me a drink.  If the man pays a pimp or the madam, I gotta go upstairs to a bedroom with him and give him whatever he wants.  I clean rooms, change sheets, and wash them during my time of the month.”

Jakob interrupted. “I was naïve, too.  At first, I thought them girls were all there of their own free will, but most of ‘em ain’t.  Lotsa them girls are addicts who gotta ‘turn tricks to get a fix’ and all of them are threatened with beatings if they get out of line.  I decided that Patsy was the only girl I wanted and visited her three times a week.  After a while, I convinced the madam to allow me to take Patsy with me to my place.”  

The next morning, I called Mr. Dewey and repeated their stories.  We agreed that Patsy’s story might be slightly exaggerated, but was basically credible, and that she should be given immunity.  Jakob, however, had engaged in a lot of criminal activity, and it was hard to believe that it was all coerced.  Nevertheless, I recommended giving them both immunity from prosecution in exchange for their testimony and any information that they might have.

Mr. Dewey agreed. Then he told me that the Assistant DA Eunice Carter had gained the confidence of several women imprisoned at Riker’s Island and got them to agree to testify.  He praised her profusely, saying,” Damn few prosecutors have both the law book smarts and the street smarts that Eunice Carter has.”

“Do you think that the women’s testimony will be enough convict Luciano?”, I asked.

Mr. Dewey continued, “We can be sure that Luciano will plead ‘not guilty’ and choose a trial by jury.  Our case is based on hearsay, because none of the women told Eunice they had any direct contact with Luciano.  However, the prostitutes from several brothels tell consistent stories and all heard that he was the boss.  Patsy’s testimony about being recruited by Luciano’s cousin and being beaten by the pimps is the most direct link we have tying Luciano and a bunch of his pimps to forced prostitution.  I don’t think that we can get any felony convictions on Lansky or Siegal, as much as I’d like to.”

I met with Jakob and Patsy again and told them that Mr. Dewey had accepted the deal under the terms that we had discussed.  Afterwards, Thomas Dewey, Eunice Carter, and I met again to discuss our courtroom strategy.  During the meeting, another lawyer interrupted us with some significant news.  “Moskowitz’s liquor distribution business has been importing Chianti from a vineyard in Sicily that is owned by the Mafia.  He delivers his other alcoholic beverages to legitimate businesses, but he only delivers this brand of Chianti to the cathouses and other joints controlled by the mob.  We got suspicious, so we decided to pop the cork on some of these bottles.  Guess what we found inside.”

“Heroin?” Eunice asked. “Bingo!” he replied.  

“We need to call off the deal with Jak Moskowitz! “I exclaimed.  “He obviously lied about not being a drug mule, and we need to nail him for it!   He’s a very clever crook, and he puts on a good act as the poor, immigrant, junior high dropout who speaks broken English with a thick Yiddish accent.  I don’t believe all his crap about being forced into a life of crime by Lansky and Siegal.”

Mr. Dewey paused for several moments, and then announced his strategy, “Jakob deserves to go to prison too, but I’m not sure that we can convict him for transporting heroin.  He can claim he had no idea what was in those bottles and a jury will probably believe him. I think we need to give him a pass to nail Luciano.   If we charge Jakob, Patsy may recant, and that would weaken our case a great deal.  We have the information Jakob gave us, so we really don’t need his testimony in the trial, and we don’t need to expose the fact that he cooperated with us.  After we convict Luciano, we can hold the threat of prosecution over his head and keep on using him as an informant.” 

We continued to plan for the prosecution.  Eunice Carter told us, “I’ve gained the trust of the women I encountered on Riker’s Island.  Should I question them on the witness stand?  I’ll know the best way to frame my questions, and they trust me.  I should be able to get them to tell more than a prosecutor they didn’t know as well.” 

Mr. Dewey considered her suggestion for a moment, but then replied, “No.  I think I’d better handle it myself.  The jury expects to see a white man as prosecutor and might not take one seriously who is neither white nor a man.  Eunice, go back and get me the details from the women who agreed to testify.”  Then he told me, “Chris, tell Patsy that all charges against her will be dropped and get a detailed statement from her.  Tell Jakob that he won’t need to testify and won’t be charged for either trying to bribe that officer or for transmitting heroin.  His deal depends on two conditions: he didn’t commit any felonies other than transporting heroin that he didn’t disclose to us, and he informs us about all the mob’s major criminal activities he learns about in the future. “

After he left, I spoke with Eunice Carter, who was visibly upset.  “That was a rotten way to treat you.  You did almost all the work, but he’ll jump in and take all the credit.”

She recovered her composure and told me, “I’m the first woman of my race that he hired, and I must admit that I have trouble convincing some people that I’m an Assistant DA.  Thomas Dewey is a very ambitious man.  He thinks that convicting a major gangster like Luciano of a serious felony will give him the publicity he needs to be elected to a higher office: Governor of New York, then maybe even President.  Sure, I’d like the credit for what I’ve done, but I’ve seen the way Luciano’s organization has treated these poor women, and I’ll do whatever it takes to send him up the river. “

I met with Jakob and Patsy again, telling them our plans. Jakob agreed to be an informant.  He claimed that he had no idea that there was anything but wine in those bottles and told me, “Ben’s thinkin’ ‘bout moving west, to set up some kinda gambling business in California or Nevada.  Meyer’s thinkin’ ‘bout it in New Orleans and Cuba. Casinos are a great place to launder money.”

What happened at the trial in 1936 is a matter of public record.  Thomas Dewey prosecuted Luciano and many of his pimps.  Luciano was convicted of forced prostitution and given a sentence of 30 to 50 years.  Eight of his co-defendants were also convicted.  

I never saw or heard from Patsy Esposito after the trial.  I didn’t have a need-to-know, so no one told me where she relocated or her new identity.

Later in 1936, Bugsy Siegal moved to California, planning for a casino in Las Vegas, and   Meyer Lansky set up gambling operations in New Orleans and Cuba, like Jakob had told us.  Jakob claimed that they no longer needed him, and he had “gone legit”.  His bakery, liquor distributorship, and delis continued to prosper, and he contributed to many charities.  He continued to receive favorable publicity in the press as a poor immigrant who had overcome severe hardships to become a successful businesses man and who gave back generously to the community.   He also made generous campaign contributions to many politicians.

In November 1941, a building that had been built in October 1931 burned down and the remaining wreckage was demolished.  When the wrecking crew broke open the concrete floor, they found two revolvers buried underneath it.  Their serial numbers had been filed off.  The workers who had poured the concrete floor belonged to a union controlled by the mob, so we decided to turn those guns over to the FBI for analysis.  The guns were both .38-caliber Colt Detective Specials, The FBI test fired them and found that the markings on the bullets matched those on some of the bullets used to kill two of the mob’s rivals: Joe Masseria in April 1931 and Sal Maranzano in September 1931.  The FBI was also able to lift two fingerprints from a shell casing in the chamber of one of the revolvers. 

Our crime lab compared the fingerprints on that shell casing with Jakob Moskowitz’s fingerprints, taken when he was arrested for attempted bribery.  They matched his right thumb and forefinger.  We checked the record of gun purchases and found that Jakob legally purchased two .38-Caliber Colt Detective Specials from two separate vendors in March 1931. 

At that point, I told Mr. Dewey that I wanted to prosecute Jakob Moskowitz.  “It is obvious that his reluctant gangster act is a crock of crap, and his lies have clearly violated the terms of our agreement.  He was at least an accessory to two murders and may have been one of the hit men.  He was also distributing heroin which he didn’t disclose to us. His only important contribution was connecting us with Patsy Esposito.  His role as an informant has been marginal at best, telling us about things that Lansky and Siegal were doing that we found out from other sources shortly thereafter.”

Mr. Dewey’s response, as well as I can remember it, was, “Joe Masseria and Sal Maranzano were both ruthless gangsters responsible for many killings.  If we had enough evidence, we would have sent them both up the river to Sing Sing and fried them in the electric chair.  Lansky, Siegal, Luciano, Moskowitz and their pals did our job for us.”   

I replied, “I certainly didn’t mourn the passing of Masseria and Maranzano, but murder is still murder, even if the victims are rotten bastards who deserved it.  Executions should be carried out by law and not by gangsters shooting each other.  Those two revolvers may have been used for other shootings and armed robberies.  Furthermore, I don’t believe that Jakob Moskowitz has ‘gone legit.’  Do you?” 

He then said, “I understand your concern, but I’m sticking with my decision.” 

Since organized crime syndicates operate across state lines, I thought that the FBI, with its national jurisdiction, would be the best agency to investigate and prosecute them.  I approached J. Edgar Hoover and offered to provide him with all the information I had, but he was not interested.  I’ve heard rumors about why he didn’t prosecute the Mafia, but I won’t repeat them here.

Then Japan attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and we were at war.  The mob controlled the Longshoreman’s Union, and Lucky Luciano relayed orders from prison to make sure that they didn’t strike and that they reported any suspected sabotage.  He also got his Mafia buddies in Sicily to help the Allied forces land there. 

When Frank Hogan, until then an Assistant DA, replaced Thomas Dewey in 1942, I repeated my request to prosecute Jakob Moskowitz, but he also denied it.  He added, “Off the record, I’ll even give Lansky and his goons credit for busting up a German-America Bund rally before the War.  They beat the hell out of a bunch of Aryan supermen who were parading around with swastika flags and portraits of Adolf Hitler.   I think Jakob participated in that.”

I became disillusioned with the way in which organized crime is allowed to prosper in the USA, and I resigned my position.  I had my exit interview with Mr. Hogan, and he told me, “I understand your disgust.  Nevertheless, the decision has been made to keep Jakob Moscowitz’s criminal activity a secret.  Let me remind you that you signed a non-disclosure agreement.  Everything you learned about Moskowitz and our decisions during your employment is confidential, and you will face severe civil and criminal penalties if you disclose any of it to any unauthorized persons.”

“Yeah, I know.  The Mafia is not the only organization that punishes those who violate its Code of Omerta.”, I replied. 

In 1946, Thomas Dewey, who had been elected Governor of New York, commuted Luciano’s sentence and had him deported to Italy.  I agreed with Thomas Dewey’s decision to release him from prison. He helped us to win the war, and that was a lot more important than punishing him, but Jakob Moskowitz’s case is different. 

Since leaving the Prosecutor’s office, I have been working as a public defender.  Minor crimes committed by indigent people are punished harshly while major crimes committed by notorious organized criminal gangs too often escape punishment, Therefore, I gain some satisfaction whenever I can get charges dismissed or reduced, get a not guilty verdict, probation, or a lenient sentence for one of my clients.

Jakob Moscowitz has expanded his businesses.  He owns eight delis in New York and his bagels and bread are sold in grocery stores throughout New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut.  His liquor distribution business is also thriving. Unlike other men involved in organized crime, he is an admired public figure whose criminal activity is unknown to the public.  He gives talks to organizations like the Chamber of Commerce and the Lions Club.  He even appeared on the cover of Newsweek under the title “The Epitome of the American Dream”

It is not for me to say whether Thomas Dewey handled Jakob Moskowitz rightly or wrongly.  Now that we are in the summer of 1948, the Presidential election is only a few months away, and Thomas Dewey is predicted to defeat Harry Truman and become our next President, Jakob Moskowitz continues to increase his wealth and win public acclamation.  I believe that the American public has a right to know the truth about these two men before the election.  I also believe that this right to know outweighs my pledge of confidentiality. Therefore, I have compiled this transcript of my interaction with them, and I am sending it to you and to several other reporters, despite the civil and criminal penalties I may incur.  

(Christopher Jensen, Jakob Moskowitz, and Patsy Esposito are fictional characters. All other characters in the story are historical.)

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Bio: James Bremer, Sr. is a retired physicist who worked on instrumentation for weather satellites for much of his career.  He has authored patents and technical publications but is new to writing fiction. 

Cover Photo by: The Author/Potato Vendor Push Bike Cart Oven Stock Photo 785839696/Shutterstock

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