In 1929, Chicago newspaperman W. R. Burnett visited the scene of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. “It was a slaughterhouse,” he recalled. “Blood all over the wall and guys lying around on the floor. I got one look at it and I said, ‘Uh, uh.’ I didn’t want any of that.” He thought about the type of person who would become a gangland boss. “I was reaching for a gutter Macbeth,” said Burnett. “A figure that could rise to prominence under the most hazardous conditions, the picture of overriding ambition.” The result was his best-selling novel, Little Caesar.
