The Key West Citizen Newspaper, June 10, 1947, Page 3

Chapter il wie. found Pedrick at his apart-| icv ' ment. He agreed to meet : Carney looked at him disbe- ingly. “In this town?” he asked.| “Look, you’re grown up. Let me them at Carlo’s in an hour fora ve oi one of the facts of life drink. fn For Rush drove Kit’s car to Carlo's and parked in the lot reserved for customers. Inside they found a table and -Pedrick sli into the pt ape before erat had a said. cen ss Rush tgp rt seo exodus of rps oe eke he said, “putt impression. he some Ps ck shook his head. — loubt it,” he said. “It doesn’t ~ sense, Nobody’d have any reason to wreck any joint in this town, erthele well organized.” avert ‘Wasnt to make a “They Tiehload it, all right,” he ' gaid when he returned. “Sully’s?” asked Kit. ck nodded his _ head. “Sully’s,” he said. “But good, if my contact a it straight.” "He = owned his dri “Do you want © over there?” ouldn’t it be more interest- ing to interview the competi- tion?” asked Rush. Pa ‘ bad yg roo Matt, | , pecially since e just came into the room.” He raised a hand to wave at a figure standing in = rway. Max Carney -came he room and slipped into the booth beside Pedric “What do you: think, Max?” asked Pedrick. “Til be damned if'l know. Or) heres this were for publication I'd say that it was an act of vandals. But it isn’t that at all. I just came from Sully’s. Whoever did that wanted the place wrecked. He had a reason, and if you .can so the reason I'll give you a ece of this joint.” Rush swallowed his drink and looked up at Carney. “If you ask me this looks like somebody was trying to muscle in. It has all the earmarks. One of the boys gets shot. Another boy gets his joint up. That’s the way it hap in Chicago, It looks very m like a muscle.” Typical Lawmaker: mer Must CELLS LE LLL LO OCD Forge City. We’re so well or- ' that Capone and his oes col ’t muscle with the help of the fifth air force. Forget‘ it.” “Those are mighty fine trees,” said Rush, “but take a look at the forest. You're orga’ but sep But for how’ long? How mg do you think citizens in a town the size of pores City are gee Ss) ee eo me i e way I hear i at they keep the mayor and iis chief of} , = and police commissioner in| § use they keep the town quiet. No crime, no shootings, no nothing. What'li they do if they ae a nice loud gang war in their ps? “That’s a lot of hop,” Cerner said. narbods big enough to muscle in woul dn't be interested in Forge City Rush seer that Carney be- lieved that now. But the germs were well planted. Later he’d re- member and think about it again. Carney left them. They drank up then and Rush drove Kit home in her car. Pedrick followed and picked him up to take him to the hotel. HE room door swung away from his probing key. He straightened and found himself ‘staring across eighteen inches of space into what he could only describe as a gorilla. ce in, Mr. Henry,” the mug “It’s nice of you to ask me in.” Rush stepped around the mug and walked into his room. Seated in a chair was a slightly refined counterpart of the mug. “Shut the door, Junie,” said the one in the chair. The door was shut. “You Rush Henry?” the man in the chair asked. Rush nodded. “We got a word ‘for you, buddy. You been in town too a Why: don’t you leave?” ut, I like it here,” said Rush. “You pane It was a state- ment of accepted fact. “You got no business here. I’m telling you, get out. If you ain't Buy In « Black Market He Fights ‘By DUANE “AP Newsteatures : KYO.—In these tangled days trying frantically .to throttle inflation and black ymarkets, the, taken for reparati . members of, ihe; nation’s, highest lawmaking body—the Diet—admit dyeae pepe san. the Sees Se is | frankly that. they, go into dark alleys and pay fabulous pe for « their rice. 42) Kyichi''Tokoda, secretary ‘general’ of ‘the Cochmunist party, “) Ybiced ‘the sentiments” of ATTA gly hemmetet inate fellaw Diet; meépibers when he shouted to a campaign audience: “I can talk so loud’ because to’ turn “ih his ration coupons for {| Ticé’ and“other food in order ‘to am eating black market rice. I| eat there. don’t depend on the insufficient, In the big Diet building the delayed ration of the present members have few of the com- goverhment. is A seat in the Diet does no carry any special — privilege when jt comes to food, tobacco, use of power or anything else that is rationed. Of course, a member’s private wealth is the barometer of his style of living. The members of Japan’s de- mocratized Diet come from all walks of life, but chiefly they are KYUICHI TOKODA farmers, professional and_busi- ness men and outright politici- ans with tight party ties. ‘They do not have to live in the area where they seek elec- tion. Many, who live in Tokyo run from some . rural. section where. they own a couple of acres of :land. . The: Diet members get 3,500 yen a; month when in session and on the year-round basis, m and out of session, it runs about 30,000 yen. At 15 to 1, the Occu- pation exchange rate for dollars, that. might seem a fair size: in- come. But with inflation and black market prices, 30, 000 yen does not go too far. One member estimated that it cost him 200 yen a day for food in his Tokyo home. -He figured ‘it would cost him about 100 yen a day if he lived in the Diet club, Of course, he would have forts afforded United States con- t| gressmen. The lavish building, s which took 17 years to complete, has no private offices for the 466 members of the House of | Representatives. A citizen who wants to see his representative goes to a guard, tenders his card and a page hunts up the member. The rep- resentative takes his constituent into a small interview room, be- cause he has no prviate office. Without strong party support, labor union backing or. wealthy friends a man has a tough time running for election in Japan. The government has ust in- creased the legal maximum ex- penditure for an individual can- didate to 100,000 yen—10 times the limit in the first occupation election in 1946. In hungry Japan, food is a top issue. Every employee puts pres- sure on his employer for food— to use influence to get rice, to establish connections to get it from the country. So politicians, in hiring campaign’ workers, have to get them food, partic- ularly rice, to keep them on the job. A typical Diet member is Jiu- ji Kasai, who runs from the mountainous Yamanashi prefec- ture, just north of Mt. Fuji. His home is in Tokyo, where he is president of a firm publishing scientific books, but he originally came from Yamanashi. Kasai, who graduated from University of Chicago in 1913 and was a Harvard 1915 post- graduate, was on a goodwill mis- sion to America just before the ‘war. When he returned and urg- ed peace the Tojo clique spread word he was an American spy and he was beaten. Kasai said he never has bought a vote and that he campaigned many times before he was elect- ed. “Politics is expensive, even if you play is conservatively,” said Kasai. “It cost me a lot out of my own pocket. For instance, people drop in from my Yaman- ashi district. They visit my home. Japanese custom requires I ask ~ in | Junior,” ‘them to stay for dinner. That — in twenty-four hours en be too bad.” veWhat'll be just too bad?” ush. be we better give you an ake him, Junior.” t there a minute. sai Rush, tone o his voice stop unior after one step. ‘ you imitation tough guys. I don’t want to lose my temper. I'don’t want to break iden “S eA ws pone og eat sending.» you back.. °. blow. G Gere out. "Scram. The ‘door is Fr ight over there.” ake hi Junior,” said the man in the chair. Junior took one step. Rush hed. Junior took another step. reached out a hamlike paw - for Rush. Rush caught it by the wrist, twisted, came under it, pulled the elbow to his shoylder and threw his weight. forward, hard. Junior came forward in a flying arc, He lit.in a bundle in the lap of the man in the chair. The chair. collapsed and. they made a writhing heap in the mid- dle of the floor. Rush picked up a © off of the chair which splintered . his feet. With it he prodded Junior. “Get up, Junior,” he said. Junior showed fight for as long as it took Rush to slug him along- side the temple /with the chair leg. He rolled him off the man who had been in the chair and issued directions. “Get some water and wake that ape up. Get him out of here. And when you get back to whoever sent you tell him you're playing with, the older boys now.” Sagem was a peckaige from Chicago for him at the desk in the morning and he opened it in his room after breakfast. He leered at its contents for a. mo- ment and decided the time was ripe to talk Bill Prime a penn His suspicion campaign coul the facilities of the press. He then dialed the number of ,| oully's. He put a handkerchief over the mouthpiece of the phone and spoke only a few odd sen- ces to the voice that answered. ell Sully that if he’s smart he’ll have a ome of guys re Carlo’s. tonight. "ll want know what goes on there.” (To be continued): tenc en = re ne | + ee -_ costs me plenty every year. Tamaichiro Fukatsu is a repre- sentative from Alachi prefecture, a farming area. “J ran for office because I ithink the farmer does not have enough representation in Japan,” said Fukatsu. try to be like Switzerland. Week, of: aut industry | willbe... I think |So we must have a “unity only partially . industrialized, which is why I _— a land like Switzer- land. ” ; Fukatsu studied . ‘interndiiotial law! in France, returning to: Ja- pan a. year eater the’ Manchurian” incidént:.: “It didn’t pay, to talk me sabe about international law, which meant getting the thought-police on your trail, so I forgot the whole thing and went back to the farm,” he said. He said his wife and five chil- dren operate his Aichai farm and that he. is in politics “because I can afford it and feel it my duty.” Sanzo Nozaka, Japan’s No. 1 Communist, who fled Japan in 1931 and returned at war’s end, says he gives half of his month’s salary to the Communist party. He carefully avoided any expla- nation of how he managed to live ~ campaign on what he had eft. z Nozaka, whose interview was constatnly interrupted by flun- kies rushing in with books, sta- tistics, newspapers said he spends Tuesday, Thurs- day and Saturday afternoons at the Diet and the balance of his time at party headquarters work- ing with its education and prop- aganda departments. He and his wife who recently returned from Moscow, live with his brother, an auto parts sales- man. One of the most interesting women in the Diet is Mrs. Shizue Kato, the former Boroness Ish- moto, the birth control advocate. She got the highest number of votes among the 39 women mem- bers of the Diet. Mrs. Kato has a two-year-old daughter. Her Diet salary, said, is completely she insufficient to meet her needs which include cost for maid, secretary, nurse, and notes, “I want -this-coun. |! * all of whom live in her: Tokyo ... home. Her husband is a laborite and they live in a middle-class house. One thing about Japan’s legis- lators is that they certainly get close to the people The shortage of gasoline makes them travel by crowded electric train or ram- shackle trolley in which seats. have been pulled out to make room for more passengers. Shov- ed around like everyone else, the Diet members know from sad ex- perience the nation’s problems. Louis R. Glavis of Washington, D. C., lawyer, born Eastern Shore, Md., 64 years ago.