Chapter : I’m Robbing the Mafia8
The Cadillac V16, released in 1930 and discontinued in 1940, was one of the most prestigious luxury cars before World War II. It was the world's first mass-produced model with a 16-cylinder engine, available only by custom order. With a low production rate, only a little over four thousand units were sold in eleven years, at an average price of eight thousand dollars.
Yesterday, when Josh Kane was buying a car, he saw one of these in a second-hand dealership—one of the largest used car dealerships in Chicago.
At the time, the seller's asking price was nine thousand dollars, which was double Josh Kane’s entire net worth.
The outrageous price immediately made Josh retreat.
That’s right, unlike other second-hand cars that depreciate, this one appreciated in value.
And the one in the garage was a silver convertible version, exuding pure artistic flair.
By comparison, Josh's own 1934 Ford 730 De Luxe was practically industrial garbage.
Josh Kane instantly fell in love with this imposing luxury car.
He hadn't expected that an underground car dealer selling stolen cars could get his hands on such a vehicle.
Since the Cadillac V16 was only available by custom order, it meant that its owner must have been either rich or noble. After all, the high price of eight thousand dollars wasn’t something an ordinary wealthy person could afford.
Logically, anyone who could own such a car would not be someone an ordinary car theft gang could mess with, and car thieves wouldn’t dare steal it either.
So, seeing this car in such a place was quite unexpected.
However, Josh Kane didn’t care. Since he saw it here, this car was now his.
But instead of immediately walking out, Josh first took off his overcoat, pulled a leather jacket out of his system’s storage, put it on, and then donned a hood. Heaven knows when he had prepared this.
After getting ready, Josh grabbed the Thompson gun he had just bought from his storage and walked out.
“Who are you? Whoa, whoa, sir, we can talk about this!” Upon hearing the noise, the two men in the warehouse immediately became alert and shouted.
But the moment they saw the Thompson gun in Josh’s hand, they instantly raised their hands, and their tone softened.
Josh was quite pleased with their attitude. Look, aren’t these Italians rather friendly? Nothing like the villains portrayed in the movies.
“Don’t worry, I just need a car. Where are the keys to this one?” Josh asked in a muffled voice through the mask, directing his question to the middle-aged man with a Mediterranean complexion.
“Oh no, sir, you can’t take this car. This is Mr. Scapa’s car. If you take it, he won’t let us off,” the Mediterranean man became agitated when he saw that Josh wanted the keys to the Cadillac V16.
“Scapa? Who’s that?” Josh asked, curious about the man’s reaction.
“Mr. Scapa is a high-ranking member of the Moretti Family, overseeing all the business in Chicago's East Side Red-Light District,” the Mediterranean man replied. “This is the car he wants, it's just temporarily stored here. Someone will come to pick it up this afternoon. If you take it, none of us will survive.”
“The Moretti Family? Who are they?” Josh continued.
“Sir, you must be new to Chicago, right?” the plump young man standing nearby chimed in.
“So what if I am? What if I’m not?” Josh retorted. In a way, he really was new to Chicago.
“The Moretti Family is one of the largest Mafia families in Chicago. If you’ve been around for any length of time, there’s no way you wouldn’t know their name. Friend, let me give you a piece of advice: if you want to stay in Chicago, it’s best not to cross them,” the plump young man said with a fawning smile.
“Oh? Sounds impressive. Why don’t you tell me about the major powers in Chicago? Besides Al Capone, I don’t really know anyone else,” Josh mused aloud.
“Heh, Mr. Capone is certainly worthy of our admiration, but that was over ten years ago. Nowadays, Chicago is run by the Moretti Family, the Clementi Family, the Vinci Family, and perhaps we should also add the Triads,” the plump young man gave Josh a brief rundown of the powers in Chicago.
Although Josh didn’t intend to get involved in the underworld, he listened intently, entertained by the man’s eloquence, which gave him the feeling of listening to a storyteller.
“I didn’t expect a car thief to be so well-informed. What’s your name?” Josh asked after the man finished.
“My name is Joe Barbaro, but you can just call me Joe. This is Mike. Sir, since we’ve met, we’re friends now, and we can’t let you leave empty-handed. As long as you don’t take this car, you can take whatever else you want from this warehouse. Oh, and there should be quite a bit of money in Mike’s safe, you can take that too,” Joe grinned, his fat face spreading into a smile as shameless as a wilted chrysanthemum.
“You’re a smart guy, but it’s too bad—I only want this car. Now, I’ll say it again: hand over the keys,” Josh said, his tone turning cold, making it clear he wasn’t taking their warnings seriously.
Josh's words caused Joe and Mike’s faces to fall. All that effort talking, and this guy hadn’t taken a word to heart.
“Sir...” Joe tried to speak again.
“Shut up. Either give me the keys, or die here and now. Don’t think I’m easy to fool. This car is here, which means you either work for the Moretti Family or do business with them. Even if I don’t take the car and steal something else, do you think you’ll just let me off?” Josh sneered. “Mafia or not, I’m robbing the Mafia.”
Indeed, getting entangled with the Mafia wasn’t a good idea, but ever since they stole his car, the grudge was already set. Taking the Cadillac wouldn’t change much, except for making it easier for these two to explain themselves later.
Besides, Josh was here for revenge—there was no way he would let Joe, the guy who stole his car, get off easily.
He even had half a mind to kill the two of them right now, if only to avoid attracting the police.
So Josh wasn’t concerned at all about offending the Mafia.
More importantly, ever since he entered Little Italy, he had been using his coat to half-cover his face. Now, with his face fully masked, given the tracking technology of this era, unless they saw his face, no one would be able to find him.
Faced with the threat of the gun, Mike reluctantly pulled the keys from his pocket.
“And the keys to that other car, and the key to the safe, too. Tell me the combination,” Josh said, pointing to his old Ford.
“You’ll regret this!” Mike obeyed, but couldn’t resist throwing out a warning.
“Regret? I don’t know about that, but if you say one more word, you won’t even have the chance to regret,” Josh scoffed.
“Now, get in the car!” With the keys in hand, Josh opened the door to the Ford.
After the two men got in, Josh closed the door and locked it.
Cars from this era had locks similar to house locks, which could be locked from both the inside and outside.
Without a key, the men inside wouldn’t be able to get out unless they smashed the window.
But if they dared to smash the window, Josh, who had never killed anyone before, wouldn’t mind opening fire on them.
After locking them in, Josh, in a bit of mischief, poured a can of coffee into the Ford's gas tank right in front of the two men.
Once this was done, Josh began searching the warehouse.
His primary targets were, of course, the desk and the safe.
When he opened the safe, there wasn’t much money, only a few hundred dollars.
However, there were quite a few ration coupons.
There were coupons for gasoline, candy, alcohol, and coffee—all of which were rationed goods. There weren’t many, but it was enough for four or five people.
In these difficult times, these items were more valuable than money.
Without hesitation, Josh pocketed the ration coupons.
He searched the desk but didn’t find anything worthwhile, though he did spot a duplicate M1911, just like the one he had bought earlier.
Following the principle of never leaving empty-handed, Josh took it as well.
Finally, in a spot where the two men couldn’t see him, Josh stashed a number of tires from the warehouse into his system’s storage.
In this era, only a few countries had significant production of synthetic rubber. The United States still relied entirely on natural rubber for tires.
With Southeast Asia, the primary source of natural rubber, cut off by the Japanese, the only remaining source for the U.S. was South America. This meant that during the war, tires were an even more important strategic resource than gasoline.
After he finished looting, Josh drove off in the Cadillac, leaving the two Italians locked in the Ford, glaring at him as he left the warehouse.
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