#chicago may

[maeviuslynn]

Chicago May is an obscure Crowley publication that appeared after his Collected Works, but has never been reprinted in the Equinox or anywhere else.

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What do you think of crime as a means to survive in an incredibly capitalist society? What would you be willing to do and where would you draw the line?

That’s really what we need to think about in this book, Chicago May by Harry Duffin, where we have a teenaged immigrant in America (a victim of abuse) turning into the “Queen of Crooks”.

Thank you Love Book Tours and Harry Duffin for a chance to be a part of the tour for Chicago May and to leave an honest review for the book!

Chicago May starts off with May in the courtroom. We don’t entirely know what she’s in for; but we’re sure that it’s because she needed to survive. That’s what this entire book is about —a young woman, with the odd stacked against her, who has done her best to escape her awful past, and has, for the most part been able to, not just because of her looks, but because of her sheer determination. She has some nerve because she knows that she has very little to lose.

It’s telling though that May is ready to rob everyone except for the man afraid to go home to his wife, and supports those on strike because she knows they need honest work without being exploited.

I do think some things could have been done better; I understand that Joe should was meant to be the hero, but he made me really uncomfortable with his obsession with saving her throughout the book; the man could have really focused on his own life but she seemed to be his only hobby. He gave me very nice guy who feels entitled to the girl vibes.

It’s also important to note that this book is a take on the real life Chicago May who was the Queen of Crooks, married Eddie, and had several criminal lovers. While this May only hints at the thrill of crime (it suits Duffin to have her be more kind and innocent) and is seduced by beautiful things, the real life May seems to have been utterly unrepentant and not willing to survive, but thrive.

Chicago May is the first of a two-part series! Head on over to the link here to get a copy of your own! You can also check out more by the author over here (who happens to be an award winning British screenwriter).

If you happen to be interested, you can also follow me on all my other socials right here!

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August 2023 books

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Chapter XXXV Au Revoir, But Not Good-By This business of being an author has its humorous, and interesting, as well as its serious, side. It would astonish most people to see my mail. My old friends, in the police, write me letters of encouragement. Christians feel called upon to send me platitudes. Reformers insist upon drawing their pet theories to my attention. Professional crooks berate and praise me. Beggars importune me. Sycophants lather me with adulation. The rich—and others—patronize me.

—May Churchill Sharpe, in Chicago May: Her Story published 1928

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Chapter XXXI Criminal Jargon (cont'd)

The branches of the crook's profession overlap each other. Thus, a woman may start out to badger an individual and find it advantageous to simply steal. On the other hand, she may decide to shift to the creep or panel game. In general, these operations begin away from the woman's "home"—and wind up there.

Let me now turn to creeps. This branch, as its name implies, is pulled off by a confederate, who sneaks up to and robs the man's clothes while he is otherwise engaged. As in the case of the badger racket, it may merge into a "discovery and denunciation," with throwings-out or threats to call the police. Then it becomes badgering. The creeping may be done from under the bed, from an adjoining room, from a closet, or even from a large trunk.

Paneling has certain advantages over the two other forms of stealing. The chief reason for this is that some men are satisfied to have a good time playing cards, or drinking. It is easy to heat the room to excess, and set the example of taking off coats and outer garments. A heavy chair is placed with its back to the sliding panel, in a wall or door, the victim's coat is thrown over the chair, and the victim is seated with his back to the works. The game does not always pan out as planned. The John may have his dough in his trousers, or a money belt, or in three or four places about his person. Then tactics have to be changed.

The panel may be placed at the back of the bed. The sucker hangs his clothes on the only place allowed to be available—the bedpost or a clothes-tree. Wherever he hangs them is where the trap is set. It is very important to remove the incriminating evidence of the panel. In some cases the door containing the panel may be shifted and an honest door substituted. This last I have spoken about elsewhere, in one of my own cases. Oiled windows and dumb-waiters are sometimes used. In case the prey is drugged, there is no need to bother with elaborate machinery.

In blackmailing, the sucker generally has himself to blame. He will write letters, sign checks, give autographed photographs, press his card into your "unwilling" hand, tell his family history and a hundred and one things he ought not to do. Weak and generous men are easy marks. Even when they have no social exposure to fear, they dread to be laughed at.

Most of the Johns pay, and pay dearly, according to their means. Few have guts enough to commit suicide. The blackmailer is insatiable. Sometimes he exposes the dupe after he has been milked dry. The sucker does not even get his money's worth.

I have first-hand knowledge of a blackmailing game pulled off on a broker at Broad and Spruce Streets, Philadelphia, some years ago, with the help of a camera and a "husband." The broker never squealed but he went broke, all right. He was an old man, and he should have known better.

A Philadelphia judge of a prominent family used to drink a great deal and philander with the ladies. One dame persuaded him her ancestors came over on the Mayflower, and asked him to take her to New York. When they got over there she turned the trick all by herself, got him drunk and took him to a room. He was fool enough to sign the hotel-register and be otherwise identified. The Mann White Slave Act hung over his head, and he died a poor man.

A Pennsylvania jurist, a holder of public office, and a very prominent man outside of his own State, was blackmailed to the day of his death. He left a will which told the story, admitted he was to blame, and said it all came about by making the first payment.

Those who are wise to these stories, and there are many more of them, will know who I mean.

—Chicago May: Her Story by May Churchill Sharpe ("Chicago May"), published by The Macaulay Company, 1928

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Chapter XXXI Criminal Jargon

As I have been a badger, pay-off, note-layer, creep, panel, and blackmailer, mostly, I shall explain them in more detail than some other words, which will be mere definitions.

Women, mostly with male assistants, are the badgers; and men are the victims. A man of money and social position is selected, or come upon accidentally, who cannot afford to call in the police. When he is in a compromising position, a witness appears; and nothing remains but to shake him down. Sometimes the man fights. He either takes his publicity-medicine or frightens the badger away. Both may happen.

The methods are numerous, with many variations. A few will suffice. It is late at night. Along the street comes the proper gent. Suddenly a fake fight is started and a lady cries for help. Up comes the gent to the rescue. The lady falls into his arms and faints, clinging to her savior.

Several things may happen, then. If the policeman comes up, the fake hold-up man may beat the gent and swear he was trying to assault the lady; or the confederate may run away, and the lady will scream, and say the gent tried to assault her; or the fake may run "home," and the lady will be so overcome that she will have to be escorted "home," where the fake can appear on the scene and demand satisfaction for the seduction of his good wife.

Even the retrieving of a handkerchief, dropped purposely by a lady, has led to badgering. Cabs are favorite places for the sport. If the victim can be lured into a bedroom and fall for feminine charms, so much the better. Before he can accomplish his purpose, the brother or mother appears on the scene to denounce him, and demand satisfaction.

Not content with this sort of evidence, the better class operators fix up luxurious traps with heavy curtains and other accessories, and use a dictograph or camera. It does not take much imagination to figure out the possibilities, in various situations.

—Chicago May: Her Story by May Churchill Sharpe ("Chicago May"), published by The Macaulay Company, 1928

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Once I lost out after trimming [stealing from] a John, because some one found the pocketbook in an area-way and turned it in to the police before I could return and empty it. Let me tell you about that some one, an army officer. He used to come to my room, but, what between liquor and natural assininity, he was no good to me or himself. When he turned in the poke [pocketbook], he told them he was captain so-and-so of the Umpteenth foot, although he was a deserter.

Two bulls [police] went over to Regent's Park barracks, found out he hadn't been there for weeks, and was wanted. As far as I was concerned, I got out of the previous case on bail. I would not have been held if I had not had two hundred and fifty pounds on me, mostly in gold. It weighed like a ton, and the dicks wanted to get their claws on it. Ultimately, the judge discharged me.

Then I demanded my money back. I went from pillar to post, from court to detectives, from police to Scotland Yard, and couldn't get that dough. They were making trouble for me, so I got a lawyer and summoned the Commissioner. The judge got mad because they had ignored his order to return the money. Then I was told to go again to the Yard to get it, but I got high-hat and demanded that they come with it to me. A nice thing if a lady had to run round after public servants!

I put up a yelp to the sympathetic judge, told him I was too weak from hunger and exhaustion to walk for my money; that I had no money but what the dicks had robbed me of, and that my landlady had put me out because of my trouble. His Worship was a darling, called a Court missionary, told him to take me to a restaurant for breakfast, and then take me in a cab to Scotland Yard, see that I got my money, and to report to him. He was bound to see that I got my rights. The dicks affected to sneer, but I had the last laugh.

—May Churchill Sharpe, in Chicago May: Her Story published 1928

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To give the devil his due, prison did do me one good turn. It gave me time to read. From the nature of my work and the relaxations it caused me to indulge in, I could not find the time, and did not have the inclination, to read when I was at liberty. I, of course, had to read the newspapers to keep up with what was going on, but that was the limit. Detective stories mostly made me tired. After one serves an apprenticeship under the best masters, one does not want to have an amateur give instruction.

—May Churchill Sharpe, in Chicago May: Her Story published 1928