Giancana Sam - Double cross : the explosive, inside story of the mobster who controlled America

In writing Double Cross , weve attempted to impart the essence of an enigmatic man as well as to portray, as accurately as possible, his involvement in national and global affairs as he himself related it. However, what follows is not an investigative treatise on the life and times of Sam Giancananor, do we believe, should it be. Too many important political revelations have gone unnoticed by the U.S. reader due to tedious journalistic research, which results, unfortunately, in tedious reading.

Instead, the subject of Sam Giancanas life has been approached with every attempt to engage the readerto tell a good storywhile maintaining historical accuracy. Most of the information contained in these pages is the result of conversations, held over five decades, between Sam Giancana and his brother. The balance is the natural by-product of being on the inside of Chicagos Outfit: information gleaned from personal experience (as younger brother to Chicagos most powerful Mob leader) and contemporaneous conversations with various Outfit members. Weve made every attempt to relate these conversations and events as unerringly as recollection will allow over the span of more than five decades.

What has emerged from this endeavor is something that is far greater than the sum of its parts. Double Cross is, in the end, more than a biography of a mobster, more than an expos of organized crime, more than a steamy report featuring all the right players, more than a true crime narrative, and certainly more than a gripping political drama filled with Presidents, spies, and secret agents.

But despite these acknowledged assets, Double Cross may still be criticized for its lively approach. Bringing Sam Giancana and his times to life in a fashion more common to the novel than the expos, all the while presenting the Mob leaders own point of view, has made Double Cross a disturbingly entertaining story. And a subject such as this should not, by most accounts, be entertaining. Because of this approach, however, far more people can be expected to read Double Cross , and the historical purist will be forced to concede that no amount of journalistic research could ever replace the personal perspective offered by Sam Giancana himself.

Although most Americans have known little up until now about Sam Giancanas impact on the nation, its precisely this lack of knowledge that has made writing Double Cross so necessary. Tired of the blatant misinformation and inaccuracies that have continued to be reported on topics ranging from the St. Valentines Day Massacre to the death of Marilyn Monroe and the assassination of John F. Kennedy, we decided it was time, once and for all, to tell the story of these events as Sam Giancana related it. The resulting revelations contained in Double Cross , although shocking, speak for themselves.

Thus, we now present what was confided to Chuck Giancana by his brother Sam Giancana as the truth of the times. It should be added that we do so with much sadness and no small measure of fear. This is a sordid and difficult legacyand one we did not choose. Its therefore our desire that, after completing the book, the reader will not find those bearing the Giancana name guilty, by association, with a man who so destructively changed the course of history.

We do believe there may yet be a positive outcome to the saga told here. Once armed with a truer account of our nations past, the readerno longer enslaved by an apathy borne of falsehoodmay possess a renewed ability to affect Americas future. And, in the final analysis, that may be what Double Cross is all about. Perhaps the reader, like these authors, will conclude that the ultimate double cross was not perpetrated against one individual but was, more significantly, committed against the people of this nation and the citizens of the world.

SAMUEL M. GIANCANA
CHUCK GIANCANA
August 1991

E verything was right; it was a beautiful night for a murder. Above the rustling treetops lining the quiet Oak Park, Chicago, suburb, occasional streaks of heat lightning flashed in the night sky. Although it was after ten oclock, the sweltering humidity hadnt lifted; the air was thick and hot and still. A dog barked in the distance. The sounds of crickets and humming air conditioners muffled the killers heavy, measured footfalls as he stealthily made his way along one side of the modest bungalow and down the concrete stairs to the basement below. He felt the .22 target pistol against his waist, hidden beneath his belt, reminding him of the task at hand.

He had nothing to fearnothing to hide; he and his intended victim were friends. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the heavy steel door swung open as it had a thousand times before and the familiar smell of cigar smoke, mingled with sausage and garlic, slapped him with countless memories spanning a lifetime of trust and loyalty. He looked Mooney Giancana squarely in the eye, and smiled.

If he knew what was coming, Mooney showed no fear, not the slightest inkling. Instead, he turned his back to continue nursing the fat sausages that sizzled in the pan. Hunched over the stove, he looked old from the back, like a graying hound past his prime.