Friday fun link: Ben Hecht—best known for writing a ton of movies, many of them great—began but never finished a biography of the infamous gangster Mickey Cohen. In 1972, Los Angeles magazine posthumously published a part of Hecht's text. I'm sure it's filled with exaggerations and lies—the main source here is Cohen himself, so caveat lector—but it's an amazing read.
At the age of 7 he became a bootlegger, making gin in the rear of a drugstore and peddling it to a grateful clientele. A hundred street corner fights marked the next three years, during which Mickey became a fixture in the First Grade of the Cornwall Elementary School. His education collapsed in the Second Grade. He was to remain unable to read, write or count beyond five until in his twenties.
Lawlessness is the debatable word in Mickey's early rise. He broke laws, but they were the laws of an alien civilization. What made him successful, actually, was keeping and enforcing the laws of the only society he knew, the underworld.
After a dozen or more killings there were some experimental arrests by the police but no trials or convictions.
And then there's this:
Mickey is reminiscing with me now about his days in Cleveland. There was a girl there, a redhead named Georgia. A hundred and eighteen pounds, with a beautiful face and fine disposition. Mickey, the wild heister, had never held a girl in his arms, even for dancing. "How about whores?"
"I never entered a whore house, except to heist it," says Mickey righteously.
Hat tip: Steve Kaye.