Characters in The Death of Jack Hamilton

He talked about his mother, and Harry Pierpont, and then about Boobie Clark, a famous fag from Michigan City we’d all known.

Well, Brian Mooney was there—Johnnie’s luck again—and we got a room for the night, although it cost two hundred dollars, which was pretty dear, considering …

He was fat, all right; looked like W. C. Fields. “That’s Buster,” Deelie Francis says. “Well, he’s a regular little bouncer, ain’t he?” Jack smiled. There was blood on his teeth. “How old is he? Three or so?” “Just barely two and a half,” Mrs. Francis says proudly.

“Well, what the hell,” Dock says. “I’ll stay, too.” “Why not?” Volney Davis says. Buster Daggs or Draggs looked at them like they was crazy, but you know what? I wasn’t surprised a bit. That’s just the effect Johnnie had on people.

* * * I got in Pendleton for robbing wallets off the New York Central line with that same Charlie Makley—small world, ain’t it? Ha! Anyhow, when it come to ways of keeping the bad boys busy, the reformatory at Pendleton, Indiana, was loaded.

Jack asks the woman. She was wearing a long gray coat and a cute sailor’s cap. “Deelie Francis,” she says. Her eyes were as big and dark as plums. “That’s Roy. He’s my husband. Are you going to kill us?”

Jack was laughing in these big hoarse gusts—like he had the flu—and Dock Barker and Rabbits and Volney, all crowded in the doorway, were also laughing. Fit to split. Rabbits clapped her hands and called “Bravo! Encore!”

Another was Dr. Joseph Moran, also known as the Crybaby. “Moran’ll give this place up, just as sure as shit sticks to a blanket,” Volney says.

“If they come, we’ll give em a show,” Jack says. “I ain’t going to no electric chair like Harry Pierpont.” But no one came, and after ten minutes or so we got back in the car and drove out to the main road, all slow and careful.

… after Johnnie and I had gone to sleep ourselves, Jack was on the edge of the bunk, raving about Henry Claudy, the warden at Michigan City. I-God Claudy, we used to call him, because it was always I-God I’ll do this and I-God you’ll do that. Jack …

“Wasn’t ever anyone looked so much like a Homer as Homer Van Meter does.” We all laughed at that, and now here I was again, and this time it was really important. You’d have to say life or death.

“I got six hundred,” I said. And I’d give it up, but not for Jack Hamilton. Jack had gone beyond needing a doctor; what Jack needed by then was a preacher. I did it for Johnnie Dillinger. “Thanks, Homer,” he said.

The Gees never came. You could call that bad info; I called it more of John Dillinger’s luck. Jack, meanwhile, was on his not-so-merry way from bad to worse.

One of the fellas they took was John J. (Boss) McLaughlin, a high mucky-muck in the Chicago political machine. Another was Dr. Joseph Moran, also known as the Crybaby.

We robbed one more bank together, the Merchants National in South Bend, Indiana. Lester Nelson joined us on that caper. Getting out of town, it seemed like every hick in Indiana was throwing lead at us, and we still got away.

He seen I meant business, and he called someone up there. Volney Davis.” I nodded as if that name meant something to me. I found out later that Volney was another member of Ma Barker’s gang. He was a pretty nice fella. So was Dock Barker.

… thing straight from the start: wasn’t nobody on earth didn’t like my pal Johnnie Dillinger, except Melvin Purvis of the F.B.I. Purvis was J. Edgar Hoover’s right-hand man, and he hated Johnnie like poison. Everyone else—well, Johnnie had a way of making folks …

Just a whiff of it was enough to make your eyes water. “That’s gangrene,” Mickey McClure said on a trip to pick up the rent. “He’s a goner.” “He’s no goner,” Johnnie said.

… And Volney’s girlfriend, the one they called Rabbits. They called her Rabbits because she dug herself out of prison a few times. She was the best of the lot. Aces. Rabbits, at least, tried to help poor old troublesome Jack.

“Deelie Francis,” she says. Her eyes were as big and dark as plums. “That’s Roy. He’s my husband. Are you going to kill us?”

“Maybe it’s just a rumor.” “You better not believe that,” Buster says. “I got it from Timmy O’Shea.” “Who’s Timmy O’Shea? The Pope’s butt-wiper?” Johnnie says. “He’s Moran’s nephew,” Dock says, and that kind of sealed the deal.

I’ll stay here with Jack.” “Well, what the hell,” Dock says. “I’ll stay, too.” “Why not?” Volney Davis says. Buster Daggs or Draggs looked at them like they was crazy, but you know what? I wasn’t surprised a bit.