Chapter 63: The Mastermind Behind Chicago

When ordinary people read The Sun’s headline, "Chicago Drinks Up, and World Peace Shall Come," they would merely think the newspaper was having another of its habitual fits of madness.

What on earth gave Chicago the ability to influence world peace simply by having a drink?

Clever people, however, always tend to think deeper.

Starting from the "arena tournament" in Chicago, all the way to the proliferation of firearms, and then to that naval battleship duel on the high seas that very nearly sparked a major war—could all these abnormal phenomena possibly be isolated incidents?

Whether Chicago drinks or not might genuinely affect world peace!

At the very least, a member of the Illinois State Assembly had actually submitted this serious proposal regarding the "Chicago Special Drinking Administration Zone" to the assembly for debate!

Although this was still a million miles away from actual legislation and implementation, its symbolic significance was like dropping a bomb into the political arena!

It was equivalent to publicly discussing at the official level the possibility of violating the Eighteenth Amendment to the Federal Constitution (Prohibition).

The newly appointed Prohibition Bureau Commissioner, Robert Wallace, burdened with a bellyful of confusion and heavy pressure, paid a visit to his predecessor, John Cramer, who had been forced to resign due to "inadequate handling of law enforcement in Chicago."

Inside John Cramer's private study, Robert could not help exclaiming, "John, what on earth is happening to all of this? Just a few months ago, although the situation wasn't entirely calm, it was nothing like this... It feels as though everything has spun out of control."

John Cramer held a cup of coffee and offered a wry smile. "Indeed, everything has changed."

"All of these changes began with the Chicago arena tournament. No, it should be even earlier—it started when Reverend Edward, a staunch supporter of the Chicago prohibition faction, ruined his reputation."

Recalling the reverend's explosive private proclivities, the two men twitched the corners of their mouths and tacitly skipped over him.

"Ever since the people of Chicago began openly drinking—well, they claim it's holy water or soft drinks, but the entire United States knows it's liquor."

"I sent agents in to investigate, and before they even reacted, they were wiped out by the Chicagoans; I sent more agents, and you already know what happened next."

The conversation with Robert made John Cramer's heart ache anew. Looking back at the decisions made a few months ago, he truly felt a sense of foolishness, as if he had walked step by step into a trap.

"Ah, the law enforcement team was hit by heavy firepower, and then came the Chicagoans' referendum arena tournament..." Robert's mouth twitched; to this day, he still could not comprehend the outrageous antics of the people of Chicago.

John Cramer picked up the thread and continued to sort out the sequence. "We had no choice but to fight, but the problem is we lost the battle; nobody wanted to take the blame, so it was shifted onto the Europeans. Who would have thought that American-made weaponry would actually appear in Ireland, and that the subsequent Coast Guard vessel interception was an accident, but the Englishmen sent warships, and those warships actually opened fire..."

John Cramer shook his head, still hardly able to believe it.

The preliminary investigation into the Irish arms shipments had yielded results, with concrete evidence showing that Irish resistance leader Michael Collins had visited Chicago and shipped back a substantial number of copies of The Sun.

This made it very difficult for the American side to claim that the weaponry currently in Ireland had nothing whatsoever to do with the United States.

Robert had also reviewed the relevant intelligence, but his brow remained furrowed. After pondering for a few minutes, he asked, "Is it possible that The Sun and that fellow—what's his name, the kid named Logan, right?—are behind all this mischief?"

John Cramer shook his head. "The Sun might well be the mouthpiece chosen by the mastermind, but if you're claiming that mastermind is that showboating kid, even the Englishmen would step up to plead his innocence."

Upon reflection, Robert realized that made sense; if Logan truly had ties to the mastermind, he wouldn't be jumping around so conspicuously, as if afraid the world didn't know he existed.

He quickly cast Logan to the back of his mind. "I still find it hard to believe that a mysterious faction suddenly emerged out of nowhere, capable of ordering our warships to open fire on their own initiative."

"In America, that is not strange at all." John Cramer paused, lowering his voice. "From the East Coast to the West Coast, there are countless secret societies, brotherhoods, and underground organizations, some of whose histories predate our nation."

"What astonishes me is not the mere existence of such a faction, but the sheer energy it has displayed—it seems capable of easily acquiring weapons on an armory scale, transporting personnel and materials across national borders, cleverly utilizing the media to incite public opinion, and perhaps even... fully infiltrating our government agencies."

Robert did not reply immediately, merely nodding slightly in agreement.

John Cramer sighed. "Actually, setting aside The Sun's lunatic facade, some of the things it says hit the nail on the head. Prohibition has indeed given these underground forces far too many opportunities and nourished their muscles."

Robert was shocked. "You... have lost faith in the cause of prohibition?"

John Cramer waved a hand. "Not at all. I still maintain that prohibition is morally correct. But we must acknowledge that we—including the entire Congress—severely underestimated the difficulty of enforcement and the intensity of the social backlash."

"We opened Pandora's box while foolishly believing we were merely closing a liquor cabinet door."

Robert fell silent for a moment, then asked earnestly, "If... if I resolve to carry out higher-intensity enforcement, invest unprecedented resources, and completely crush Chicago, the greatest bastion against prohibition, what would I require?"

John Cramer answered with equal seriousness, "Chicago is a massive industrial metropolis and one of the core hubs for America's railways and waterways. That means it has countless veins connecting it to the outside world. To completely blockade it, you would need to control every single train, every cargo ship, and every highway."

"You would need an annual special budget of at least thirty million dollars—far exceeding the budget of the entire Prohibition Bureau as it stands today—and you would need a well-equipped, impeccably loyal law enforcement force numbering in the thousands. And..."

He took a deep breath. "You must mentally prepare yourself to sacrifice hundreds, or even thousands, of agents. This would be a war, a civil war fought right inside a city."

Robert was left utterly speechless. Thirty million dollars? A war? This vastly exceeded the limits of what the Prohibition Bureau could bear.

Therefore, John Cramer earnestly advised, "You had best banish any further thoughts of violent enforcement."

"We must absolutely never let something like the 'arena tournament' happen again. Every open armed confrontation, regardless of victory or defeat, severely damages public confidence in Prohibition, provides a stage for those anti-prohibition forces to grandstand, and fuels their arrogance."

"Then what should we do?" Robert felt a wave of helplessness.

"The best approach is to start from politics."

John Cramer leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with the shrewdness of a veteran politician. "Have the parties that support us push a new mayor into office in Chicago who genuinely supports prohibition and is willing to cooperate with the Prohibition Bureau."

"Many things can only be pushed through with the support and cooperation of local political forces. For instance, you could try to co-opt one gang, crush another, provoke infighting among them, and let them tear each other apart. As for the current mayor of Chicago..."

John Cramer let out a cold snort. "More often than not, I suspect he is a member of the mastermind's faction, or at the very least, part of their alliance of interests."

After listening, Robert could only feel a sense of pity for John. "The White House should not have had me replace you."

John Cramer offered another wry smile. "It very nearly sparked a world war; aside from me, who else could take the blame?"

"I hope my thoughts are of some help to you."

Finally, as if recalling something, John Cramer added, "If you truly wish to uncover the mastermind behind Chicago, perhaps you should try cooperating with the Bureau of Investigation. They also seem to have caught an unusual scent and have sent a newcomer specifically to investigate the affairs behind Chicago."

"What is his name?" Robert asked.

"John Edgar Hoover."