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their badge but their family. When Watson returned to his office he felt sorry for the officers who were trial he knew that they were not rapist or murderers they had just been caught up in the culture of corruption not only in the 2nd District but throughout the city from the city counsel to the building inspectors and he doubted that even if these police officers were convicted and sent to prison nothing would anything change. He met with Luden and White in the Task Force Office.
“Steele told it like it is and his compelling testimony describing corruption in the district will prepare the jury for the coming testimony. I think it now time to contact Eppilito he’s married with two children, a son six and a daughter nine, we may be able to turn him, he’s got more to lose than Richard Novakski.”
“Suggestion in addition to being a member of the club they were also trying to shake-down taverns, why not call some tavern owners first?”
“Good call, I’ll subpoena Jimmy Pierce!”

The following day the trial resumed and Luden called Jimmy Pierce. Jimmy was a handsome man over six feet tall, dark skinned and had a deep baritone voice and a certain bearing. After being sworn in he took the stand.
“Will you state your name age and occupation?”
“Jimmy Pierce, fifty-two and I own a tavern on Cottage Grove Avenue.”
“How long have you owned the tavern Mr., Pierce?”
“Fifteen years!”
“Have you ever been arrested Mr. Pierce?”
‘No sir.”
“Have you ever had any license violations or troubles at your bar?”
“No sir.”
“Have you ever been approached by Chicago Police officers for pay-offs?”
“Yes sir!”
“Can you relate to the jury what happened?”
“About six months ago a plainclothes police officer came into my joint and identified himself as Sergeant Eppilito of the vice squad. He checked my licenses and told me that some of my customer’s cars were parked illegal. I told him that this was a quiet street with little traffic no house and most of my people were elderly and it’s convenient for them to park in front, but if it’s a problem I tell them to park somewhere else. He asked me if I had any problems; young people, fights, etc. I told that most of my people are drunk or broke by six and I close the joint at eight and I don’t want the hassle that comes with staying open later. He told me that he could provide me with police protection and that I could stay open later and make more money. I told him no thanks. He went on to say that there are a lot of young aggressive policemen in the district and they may start writing parking tickets to your people or decide to make a lot of “premise checks “at your joint that could endanger my liquor licenses. So I asked him what did he want and he said for two bills a month he could make all those problems disappear. I told him that would eat up most of my profit. The sergeant left and gave me his business card and told me call him if I changed my mind.”
“Was that the end of it?”
“No sir, a couple of days later every night vice officers were in my joint checking my licenses and checking the identification of his patrons and the beat officers were issuing parking tickets. Like I said most of my customers were elderly and scared of the police, so I contacted the sergeant and agreed to a bill a month.”
“Did the harassment stop?”
“Yes sir!”
“I understand you are a member of an association.”
“Yes sir, the Black Tavern Owners Association and I found out that he and another sergeant was shaking down other owners who were in the association and we decided to contact the Commander Watson.”
“How many of you and you and your fellow tavern owners complained to Watson.”
“Well there were six of us who were paying off Sergeant Epplito and there seven others who were paying off a Sergeant Novakski, I never met him.”
“What are the other six owner’s names and their tavern location that Sergeant Eppilito was extorting and who were the other owners being shaken down by Sergeant Novakski?”
“Me and William Walls on east 43rd Street, Ralph Johnson on 43rd Street, Oliver Woods at 53rd State, Ada Fambro at 55th Wabash, Angelo Rings and Lorine Smith on east at 47th Street. I don’t know their exact addresses. Jimmy Prentiss and Robert Wilson on east 61st Street, Claude Forman on 59th Street, Betty Willson on east 55th and Tommy Wilson on east 51st Street all told me they were paying Sergeant Novakski $300.00 a month .”
“Thank you Mr. Pierce.”
Jimmy Pierce testimony was supported by three of his customers. For the next three days Luden called all the tavern owners to testify named by Jimmy. They testified that they had been paying-off Sergeant Eppilito. Back at his office Luden consulted with White and Watson and they decided to call Sergeant Eppilito in for an interview. Sergeant Eppilito was concerned and scared. He had heard rumors about and FBI and police department investigation in the district but no one had any additional information. He was waiting in e Luden’s office when Luden, Watson and White entered and identified themselves.
“Sergeant we had evidence that you and Sergeant Richard Novakski has been extorting money from tavern owners in the 2nd District in violation of the Hobbs Act.”
“That’s a lie!”
“Let’s not play word games sergeant we have sworn affidavits from tavern owners and their testimony at the Grand Jury concerning being extorted by you and your partner, now if you want to play games remember that violating the Hobbs Act is federal crime punishable by twenty years in a federal pen, now do you want to continue to play games or can we talk.”
The sergeant shifted in his seat, removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow.
“The Hobbs act that’s federal right? What do you want from me?”
“I’ll be straight-up with you, you’re going to be indicted and if you decide to go trial you will be convicted and probably be sentenced to ten or fifteen years and remember federal time is different from state time. You will have to do eighty-five percent of your time before you can try for parole. We want Commander O’Shea we know all about his Commander’s Club and we know that you was getting some of the money, if you cooperate maybe the judge will give you probation, it’s up to you!”
“If I had known that taking money from taverns owners was a federal crime I never would have done it. Probation that mean I will lose my job.”
“Yes, you will be fired but you won’t be in jail, but like the attorney said it’s up to you!”
“I’ll cooperate!”
Think it’s time to go after the others? Luden asked.
“Let’s go!” White and Watson responded.
Who’s your next witness? Watson asked.
“Sergeant Eppilito!”
Sergeant Eppilito was nervous as he took the stand. He looked at his wife, mother, sister and two brothers that were sitting in the back row of seats. After giving his personal information, Luden begin his examination.
“Sergeant has you pleaded guilty to violating the Hobbs Act and will you allocate to the court your involvement in the charges?”
There were tears in his eyes as he answered yes! The judge turned to the jury.
“In law to allocate means "to speak out formally." In law, it is generally meant to state specifically and in detail what one did and for what reason, often in relation to commission of a crime. Allocution is required of a defendant who pleads guilty to a crime in a plea bargain in exchange for a reduced sentence. In this instance, allocution can serve to provide closure for victims or their families. In principle, it removes any doubt as to the exact nature of the defendant's guilt in the matter. The right of victims to speak at sentencing is also sometimes referred to as allocution.”
“Sergeant what was your assigned in the 2nd District.”
“I was assigned to the Vice Unit and supervised the day shift.”
“Sergeant have you ever heard of the Commander’s Club and if so were you a part of it?”
“Yes!”
“How did the club work?”
“Certain policy wheels, wire rooms, gambling houses payed a certain amount of money for protection against raids and arrests.”
“Who was the bag-man that collected the pay-offs?”
“At first it was the Vice Coordinator Sergeant Romano but he got sick and was replaced by Officer Went she directed me and Sergeant Novakski to make the collections.”
“What did you and Sergeant Novakski do with the money you collected?”
“We gave it to Officer Went.”
“Do you know what she did with the money?”
“No!”
“No further questions, your witness.”
The two police officers testimony was so direct there was little the defense could do. As he was leaving the witness stand Sergeant Novakski mouthed “Rat.” Commander O’Shea had his head down.
Court was adjourned and Luden, White and Watson stopped at Berghoff for dinner.
Who’s your next target? White asked.
That arrogant asshole Sergeant Novakski. I think he thinks this a joke I watched him smirking during Eppilito testimony and I saw him mouth rat when Eppilito walked pass. Watson I want you to send out your guys and see if we can get any of the owners that were paying off Novakski to testify.
Sergeant Cotton visited Ronald Prentiss who owned the Kitty Cat Club located at 440 East 61st Street and identified himself. Jimmy was a plain looking man in his early fifties, tall and stocky and acted like a typical bar owner friendly and outgoing. It was a small tavern with a horse-shoe bar that contained only eight bar stools and two color television sets were at each end of the bar. Two beat-up booths sat on one of the walls. Ronald introduced Cotton to his wife, Jean who were behind the bar washing glasses and talking to two young men.
“Do you know a Sergeant Novakski?”
“Yeah, I met him once or twice!”
“Well the sergeant has been arrested and is on trial for shaking down taverns and we have information that you were one of the taverns did he ever threaten you or demand money?”
Prentiss looked at wife who had moved closer to the two men.
“Let’s talk in the booth!”
They moved to one of the booths and sat.
“Sarge I don’t want any trouble with the police me and my wife work hard just too barely make a living in this joint, but it’s all we have. I’ve got COPD and my wife have a heart problem, if we lose this joint we’ll be out on the streets and you know how the police can fuck with a bar owner.”
“I need you to testify at the sergeant’s trial and help put an end to this police harassment and shakedowns! And believe me no police officers will be within a mile of this place because they know you a stand-up guy and not some scared nigger they can push around. The two young men left and Jeans joined them in the booth.”
“Whatsup up Ric?”
“It’s about that thieving sergeant who been fuckin’ with us, he’s been arrested and the sarge hear wants me to testify against him.”
“You testify and we’ll have every fuckin’ police in the district fuckin’ with us!”
Prentiss rubbed his hands.
“You’re probably right but I’m tired of bein treated like a nigger on the plantation. That mutherfuckin’ sergeant would’ve put us out of business we can’t afford to keep paying him two hundred a month fuckit, I’ll testify.”
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