Al Capone Character Analysis

Favorite crime: Dinner party of death! Invites lieutenants in his organization known to have double-crossed him to a party. After dessert, Al’s men lock the doors and Capone beats the traitors to death with a baseball bat.

A baseball bat?

Favorite word for murder: “Rub-out”—often in front of many witnesses who then develop “gangster amnesia.”

Sent to jail for: Tax evasion.

Other stuff: Rigged elections. Opened first soup kitchen in Chicago. Likes silk underwear.

I can’t get over this. I keep thinking about when Al Capone was a baby. I’ll bet his mama sang him the same song she sang to Rocky. I’ll bet she held his hand when they crossed the street, packed his lunch for school and sewed his name into his jacket—A. CAPONE so everyone would know it was his.

I’ll bet she wishes she could do it all over again too...if only Al were little and she could.

When I hang up the phone, I know I have to do something. Have to. I have no idea what. I wonder if this is how my mother feels. How she has always felt.

Now I understand. When you love someone, you have to try things even if they don’t make sense to anyone else.

I look directly into his blue eyes. “Remember you said we should think hard about going against the rules? Remember you said that. Well, I have thought hard.”

The warden meets my gaze. “I see that,” he says. “But in this case you’re asking me to bend the rules. And I’m not about to. You may think it’s the right thing to do, but I do not.”

“I figured Capone could write back in the book—you know, underlining very faintly in pencil the way the cons do.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Let’s say you want to say, ‘I need your help.’ You go carefully through the book and look for an I and underline it. And then an n and underline it and an e and so on until you’ve spelled your whole message.”

“‘I like your mother very much’?” Piper says when she reads it.

“You got to say something about the guy’s mother.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Because then he remembers he has one. And he knows we know her too. Makes him act better. It’s The Mom Rule—all guys use it.”

“This is Al Capone we’re talking about. I don’t think he’ll fall for a cheap trick like that.”

Favorite crime: Dinner party of death! Invites lieutenants in his organization known to have double-crossed him to a party. After dessert, Al’s men lock the doors and Capone beats the traitors to death with a baseball bat.

A baseball bat?

Favorite word for murder: “Rub-out”—often in front of many witnesses who then develop “gangster amnesia.”

Sent to jail for: Tax evasion.

Other stuff: Rigged elections. Opened first soup kitchen in Chicago. Likes silk underwear.

I can’t get over this. I keep thinking about when Al Capone was a baby. I’ll bet his mama sang him the same song she sang to Rocky. I’ll bet she held his hand when they crossed the street, packed his lunch for school and sewed his name into his jacket—A. CAPONE so everyone would know it was his.

I’ll bet she wishes she could do it all over again too...if only Al were little and she could.

When I hang up the phone, I know I have to do something. Have to. I have no idea what. I wonder if this is how my mother feels. How she has always felt.

Now I understand. When you love someone, you have to try things even if they don’t make sense to anyone else.

I look directly into his blue eyes. “Remember you said we should think hard about going against the rules? Remember you said that. Well, I have thought hard.”

The warden meets my gaze. “I see that,” he says. “But in this case you’re asking me to bend the rules. And I’m not about to. You may think it’s the right thing to do, but I do not.”

“I figured Capone could write back in the book—you know, underlining very faintly in pencil the way the cons do.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Let’s say you want to say, ‘I need your help.’ You go carefully through the book and look for an I and underline it. And then an n and underline it and an e and so on until you’ve spelled your whole message.”

“‘I like your mother very much’?” Piper says when she reads it.

“You got to say something about the guy’s mother.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Because then he remembers he has one. And he knows we know her too. Makes him act better. It’s The Mom Rule—all guys use it.”

“This is Al Capone we’re talking about. I don’t think he’ll fall for a cheap trick like that.”