From Booklist
The author of
Don't Call Us Molls (2002), about the women of the Dillinger gang, takes a hard look at Charles "Lucky" Luciano's 1936 trial for running a prostitution racket. The feds wanted to put "Charlie Luck" away for something--anything--and the convoluted investigation and prosecution strategies they followed in pursuit of that goal provide the glue for the story Poulsen tells and her conclusions about how the women involved were treated like pawns by both sides in the case. Poulsen adopts those women's perspective, and a richer, more Runyonesque point-of-view is hard to imagine. Drawing on the womens' letters and photos from the period, many published here for the first time, Poulsen offers hoot after hoot while profiling the likes of Gay Orlova (Luciano's girlfriend), madame supreme Polly Adler, and riotous, redoubtable Cokey Flo, who was not exactly prosecutor Thomas Dewey's ideal witness. The Luciano case has been much commented on, but Poulsen's riveting account must be reckoned an essential popular addition to the annals of the American Mafia.
Mike TribbyCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
Review
A rare but essential look back at the desperate souls of the Mafia's sex trade. Ellen Poulsen's commendable examination of the infamous Luciano trial is mandatory reading for true crime, organized crime and social history readers, and those for or against the 'victimless' crime of prostitution. --Rick Porrello, author, To Kill the Irishman and Superthief
At the heart of this book is the 1936 vice trial of Charlie Lucky Luciano, the inveterate gambler and reputed head of the prostitution syndicate in New York City; but his story has been told elsewhere. Instead, the author explores the myriad of minor players whom Luciano exploited, with an emphasis on the women forced into his syndicate. From the squandered lives of young, even beautiful women like Nancy Presser, a small town girl corrupted by the Big Apple, to Jenny The Factory and the other hardened madams running $1 and $2 houses, Poulsen culls a compelling tale of lives ruined by illicit drugs, sex and violence. Poulsen has crafted an exhaustively-researched criminal saga. Her research into events which occurred more than seventy years ago pays off with such tidbits as a photograph of the post-card sent from Mexico by one of the prostitute witnesses in Luciano's trial to an assistant prosecutor. Poulsen's artful rendering leaves no doubt that their stories have long deserved to be told. - Alan J. Couture --ForeWord, July/Aug. 2007, Vol. 10, No. 4
The author of Don't Call Us Molls (2002), about the women of the Dillinger gang, takes a hard look at Charles Lucky Luciano's 1936 trial for running a prostitution racket. The feds wanted to put Charlie Lucky away for something -- anything -- and the convoluted investigation and prosecution strategies they followed in pursuit of that goal provide the glue for the story Poulsen tells and her conclusions about how the women involved were treated like pawns by both sides in the case. Poulsen adopts those women's perspecive, and a richer, more Runyonesque point-of-view is hard to imagine. Drawing on the womens'letters and photos from the period, many published here for the first time, Poulsen offers hoot after hoot while profiling the likes of Gay Orlova (Luciano's girlfriend), madame supreme Polly Adler, and riotous, redoubtable Cokey Flo, who was not exactly prosecutor Thomas Dewey's ideal witness. The Luciano case has been much commented on, but Poulsen's riveting account must be reckoned an essential popular addition to the annals of the American Mafia.-Mike Tribby --American Library Association Booklist, April 15, 2007
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