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interval, then Gurfein turned to Hogan. “How do you want to handle this?”
    “We’d better go slow with them. Go through the files.” Hogan thought very intently as he came around from behind his desk.
    “You do it. Don’t give it to anybody else. When you go through the records, see who we’ve fingered on the docks. Let’s give them only one. And for God’s sake, let’s keep this under our hats, huh?” “Right-o, chief. I’ll start on it right after lunch.”
    Gurfein began to leave. As he had the door halfway open,
    Hogan called to him.
    “And Murray. Make sure whoever you pick out of the files has an indictment. I mean an airtight indictment. One we’re going to win no matter what. I don’t want to screw up any opportunities for convictions.”
    Gurfein nodded, then, as he stepped through the door, he hesitated. Coming back into the room, he closed the door behind him, leaned back on it and folded his arms, displaying a mischievous smile.
    Hogan looked up from his desk. “What?”
    “What about the wire taps?” Gurfein grinned.
    After a short pause, Hogan instructed, “Leave them in place. This could get interesting.”
    As he passed the secretary’s desk on the way out, Gurfein asked what had happened to the coffee. With no discernible movement whatsoever, the secretary kept typing while she issued her reply. “I forgot.”
    Meanwhile, outside the DA’s office, in the hallway, a separate assessment of the meeting was under way as the two officers walked towards the elevators.
    “Are you okay with this liaison position, Lieutenant?”
    “Ah… yes, sir.”
    “You don’t sound very sure of yourself,” remarked MacFall, as both men reached the elevator.
    After considering his words carefully, O’Malley spoke again. “Sir, we need to tread lightly with these people.”
    “Rest assured, Lieutenant, we’ll only tell them what they need to know.”
    The elevator arrived and they boarded. They were alone. O’Malley continued. “I don’t mean just that, sir.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “They do business a lot different than we do, sir.” The bell rang, and as the doors opened, both men stepped into the lobby. “I know. I used to work in that office.”
    “You have my ear, Jim.” MacFall listened more closely. know. I used to work in that office.”
    “Sir, Dewey, Gurfein and that crowd have built a career on the fact that they got a conviction against Lucky Luciano.”
    “Well, from what I understand, he needed to be put away.”
    “No doubt sir, but…” O’Malley was clearly not comfortable discussing the inner workings of the DA’s office and their Mob-like code of silence.
    “Go on,” MacFall coaxed.
    “The trial evidence wasn’t as they portrayed in the papers. There were some serious procedural questions. Most of those girls testified under what they believed to be the threat of physical violence.”
    “Well, gangsters are brutal people. That’s why they belong in jail.”
    “I’m not talking about the Mob, sir. I’m talking about the prosecutor’s office, particularly Dewey.” Both men had now moved off to one side of the lobby, out of common earshot.
    “What?”
    “The threat of prison, sir. They wave it around like a magic wand. Testify or go to prison. The girls were threatened with unusually long prison terms if they didn’t testify against Luciano. Some of them were even coached in what to say. Section 399 of the State Criminal Code says you can’t get a conviction on one person’s testimony. You’re supposed to have corroborating evidence. They had no evidence, so they got hookers and people who wanted him out of the way to testify. No one can ever say the witnesses lied. The DA’s office is the only one who can prosecute for perjury, so anyone who said what the DA wanted was safe. Later, half of them recanted and it wasn’t all due to Mob threats. Perjured testimony alone is what got Luciano convicted. Political ruthlessness is what got him such an