Over the next few days, the entire New York City underworld was churning. Ordinary citizens might not have noticed much, but those with peculiar interests had already sensed something was amiss.
Street drug dealers, once ubiquitous in some neighborhoods, had suddenly vanished by the vast majority, and the number of people selling pills in nightclubs had also decreased significantly.
Even the Asian streetwalkers who had spent their days in Flushing's heartland, such as Main Street, 40th Avenue, Prince Street, and Roosevelt Avenue, whispering in broken English behind passersby, asking if $50 was a good deal, had vanished.
"If this situation could really continue, it wouldn't be bad. There's even media outlets suggesting I run for mayor," Frank Reagan said to Jack, managing a wry chuckle.
The two men in the office had both seen a lot of hardship. One had personally experienced 9/11, the other had countless lives to his credit.
"Although this is the calm before the storm, it's a bit too quiet. I always thought the Mafia had become a non-issue in recent years, but I didn't expect they still have such a significant influence on this city."
Jack took a sip of coffee and narrowed his eyes slightly.
The second-best coffee in the entire NYPD is in the 12th Precinct, thanks to a high-end coffee machine sponsored by Cassel. The best coffee is in the Chief's office.
Not only is there a regular supply of high-end coffee beans from other police departments, but the Chief's beautiful secretary, Miss Baker, is also an expert coffee brewer.
Frank smiled and said, "If you knew that during the heyday of the Five Families, more than half of New York's inflated housing prices were due to the Mafia, you'd be as relieved about this situation as I am."
"The other half is thanks to that former president, right?" Jack had also heard of someone's rise to wealth.
The former president's connections with the Mafia were well-known. When the famous 200-meter-tall building named after him on Fifth Avenue was built, he enlisted the help of John Cody, then-President of the New York Building Workers Union.
This John Cody was a local tyrant in New York City back then, with deep ties to the Mafia.
Back then, the entire New York City industry, from construction and manufacturing to landfills, freight transportation, and even clothing, was tightly controlled by the Mafia. Almost every union leader in these industries held Mafia members.
The Mafia also controlled these unions' health and pensions, extorting construction companies through strikes and bid manipulation.
It's no exaggeration to say that in New York at the time, no construction project could begin without the approval of the Five Families.
"I can only say that Laia has come at a good time. This is arguably the weakest the Mafia has been since the 1920s,"
Frank slowly exhaled a smoke ring, a hint of worry between his brows. "I've visited a few of their veterans these past few days, and they're all playing dumb."
Jack thought of Benny D'Agostino, Laia's former lieutenant who had been eliminated by the Russian mafia. He was Moretti's former deputy, and a legend said to have long since retired from the underworld. A thought struck him.
"Are you saying those old Mafia members are actually on Reia's side?"
"At least they're not helping either side. Many of them were eliminated from the competition for the position of Godfather among the five major families, and they only gloat over the misfortune of those who are still in power.
Maybe when Reia takes the throne, they'll stand up and cheer for him. Many still miss that era and dream of a comeback."
Frank snorted, his neatly trimmed beard twitching slightly.
Jack didn't really care whether Reia could unify LCN, no matter his grand ambitions, like the promise he'd made when trying to recruit Reese: turning the Mafia into an evolved crime syndicate.
After all, in the eyes of this country's citizens, earning a fortune, driving luxury cars, and schmoozing with the powerful constituted the realization of the American Dream. Becoming a politician, a wealthy businessman, or a Mafia godfather made little difference.
As long as extreme injustice and social instability persisted, gangs would remain uneradicated.
Even drug users were gradually becoming accustomed to the common people. Without a bloody ordeal and a strong central government, fundamental change was impossible.
Roosevelt, during World War II, nearly transformed this country, but alas, it was only a shortcoming.
Jack still had a bit of a chivalrous spirit in his heart. While he couldn't quite reach the level of "serving the country and the people" in this environment, he had done a lot of work behind the scenes to punish evil and promote good.
If Lai Ya really just wanted to restore order to the New York underworld, as he'd told Reese, and play his "Godfather" game behind closed doors, Jack wouldn't mind letting him go.
After all, even the most shabby order was better than chaos. With an underground Godfather around, if someone ever tried to smuggle several tons of explosives into Manhattan, he'd know who to target.
But if Lai Ya caused a major disturbance in the city, even sparking a gang war, Jack wouldn't mind giving him a bullet from two kilometers away.
"It depends on what Laiah is going to do. If he can take the position 'peacefully', it's not unacceptable."
His words made Frank laugh out loud, "You are still too young, Jack. How can there be such a thing as taking the position peacefully? If Laiah can't show some ability, the first thing he will have to face challenges from other mafia families outside New York State when he sits in that position."
"Then I can only ask him to go to the federal prison and continue to be his godfather." Jack put out his finished cigar in the ashtray, stood up, straightened his suit, and prepared to say goodbye.
Frank raised his hand to signal him not to leave in a hurry. "As for HR, when are you going to close the net?"
"No rush. According to our investigation, Lai Ya is now HR's biggest financial backer. I'm curious if the person hiding behind this will be unable to hold back and jump out after this line is cut off."
Frank's beard curled up slightly again at this. "Sounds like you've already found your target? I heard that you've been getting close to a beautiful female reporter from the New York Times recently."
Jack was about to finish the last bit of coffee in his coffee cup, which had already cooled slightly, when he almost choked to death when he heard this.
"Hey, tell Danny for me that if he can't find a topic to talk about at the family dinner table next weekend, I can provide some gossip, such as about the female editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine or Miss Davidson from Fox 5."
(End of this chapter)