Hammer in hand, nails in his teeth, Bill Baum was working on the new roof for his farmhouse when their visitor came calling. Taking advantage of the generosity of that outlaw father and son, the Baums were rebuilding their farm. But life here remained hard, and Bill was sweating in his overalls, up on his ladder; and so was his wife Virginia, out working in the field.
The sound of the approaching car raised the attention of both Baums, and they turned from their work to watch as the maroon car drew nearer, kicking up dust in its wake. The car pulled up alongside the barn, and the boy got out. A big overeager mutt clambered out of the Ford after him and followed the young man, who—suitcase in hand, bareheaded, neatly dressed in white shirt and suspenders and new trousers—moved across the field toward Sarah.
Bill climbed down his ladder to go join them. Judging by the youngster’s somber expression—and the absence of his father—bullets had finally made an orphan of him. Much as the farmer hated the thought of that, he was pleased to have this boy once and for all out of harm’s way.
And Bill already knew he would repay the generosity of the lad’s father by taking in the son—not just putting a roof over the boy’s head; but giving young Michael a decent Christian upbringing, and heading him in the right direction, down life’s rocky old road.
When he reached the boy, and tousled his hair, Bill found the boy hugging Sarah, desperately; but Michael O’Sullivan, Jr., held back his tears.
He was older now, and his father’s son.
NINETEEN
The story of the soldier who was my father ends here.
Over the decades, I read what was written about Michael O’Sullivan, Sr. (and Michael O’Sullivan, Jr.)—newspaper stories, magazine articles, sections of books, even whole volumes dedicated to our weeks on the road. Some have called Michael O’Sullivan a fiend; others an avenging angel. He was described as a modern Robin Hood; and he was termed a cold-blooded hitman.
In 1960, the Robert Stack TV show “The Untouchables” did an absurdly inaccurate episode about us; and there were three movies, one starring Preston Foster and Jimmy Lydon in the 1940s, another in the mid-’60s with James Coburn and Billy Mumy, and (as I mentioned earlier) a big-budget version with an Oscar-laden cast is in production as I write this.
Since everyone else has had their say about our story, I have finally broken my silence and spoken my piece. For years I rebuffed the advances of editors and would-be coauthors; still, I guess I always knew I’d write the story of the man who was neither fiend nor angel…just my father.
The Baums were Baptists, but—in my young adulthood—I returned to the Catholic church. In recent years, as other, later events of my life have come to light, more questions have arisen. As I’ve reported, my father’s last act was to spare me from killing Harlen Maguire; but I fully expect to be accused of manipulating the facts in this narrative—some will no doubt insist that I indeed did pull that trigger…that, there being no statute of limitations on murder, I have fobbed that deed off upon my father.
Believe what you will. Whatever happened in that kitchen in that house along Fall Rivers Lake, I did walk away with my father’s .45 Colt, inheriting the weapon he brought home from the Great War; and I was my father’s son, after all, with a family tradition of vengeance. That, however, is my story; and this has been my father’s.
Two things may help explain why I eventually chose yet another road for my life. Like my father…like so many of us…I finally came to understand my need for redemption. At the same time, throughout the life I’ve led since Papa’s death, I have been haunted by his dying request for my forgiveness, in absence of a priest.
These are high among the reasons why today I wear a backward collar, and sit on the listening side of the confessional booth. To date, however, I must admit I have not yet heard any sins to compare to those that turned a country priest ghost-white one winter afternoon.
There can be little doubt of what my father exclaimed that rainy night in Rock Island, when he stood against Looney and his army of bodyguards: “Pray that God never puts you on my road!”
If you will allow a preacher his sermon, what Papa failed to understand was that he had chosen his road; so take it from an old outlaw hiding out in priestly garb…God has nothing to do with the bad choices men make of their own free will.
Though I would make one simple request of you, in exchange for this wisdom: pray, would you, for the soul of Michael O’Sullivan?
Both of them.
A TIP OF THE FEDORA
NOTE: This is a slightly revised version of the original acknowledgements essay that appeared with the radically shortened 2002 edition.
As the author of the original graphic novel Road to Perdition (1998), I am in the unusual position of basing a novel on another writer’s screenplay…based on my own work.
Having written numerous movie tie-in novels—including one for a previous Tom Hanks/DreamWorks production, Saving Private Ryan (1998)—I felt a prose version of that three-hundred-page comic-book novel was called for. I feared the original illustrated book would not reach readers who do not regularly partake of the comics medium…which is unfortunate, as that medium is as vital and compelling as motion pictures themselves.
I have done my best to honor David Self’s fine and faithful screenplay, and am particularly grateful to him for heightening the Mike O’Sullivan/John Looney father-and-son relationship; at the same time, I’ve expanded his fundamentally condensed version of my narrative with material culled from the graphic novel, as well as adding new elements designed to bridge those two sources.
Both John and Connor Looney existed, the latter truly nicknamed Crazy Connor, and a loosely factual basis underlies this tale. Much of the background the narrator provides at the start of each chapter is true.
I stumbled across the story of the Looneys in researching True Detective (1983), the first of my Nathan Heller novels, one of three books comprising the Frank Nitti Trilogy. My research associate on those books, George Hagenauer, offered information and insights during the writing of this work, as well.
The time frame of this novel is consistent with history where Al Capone and Frank Nitti are concerned; however, much of the Looney material is moved up in time from the 1920s (though Looney’s organization and the Capone mob were indeed connected). A few other liberties have been taken; the screenplay’s use of the Lone Ranger (I had used Tom Mix exclusively in the graphic novel) had a nice resonance for me, and I retained it—though that character did not make its radio debut until January 1933.
My late friend Bj Elsner’s Rock Island: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (1988) was a key reference work for both this novel and the original graphic novel. Elsner also provided further background material and came through like a champ at a difficult time (our mutual friend, author David Collins, died during the writing of this book).
Thanks also to Bill Wundrum of the Quad City Times. Bill got me interested in John Looney in the first place, when I approached him while doing Nathan Heller research; for this novel, I drew upon articles of Bill’s as well as several of his locally produced books about the Quad Cities (the Tri-Cities, in John Looney’s day). Bill and I met, incidentally, at the Lexington Hotel, the night Geraldo opened Al Capone’s vault.
Among many gangland reference works consulted were Capone (1971), John Kobler; Capone (1994), Lawrence Bergreen; The Legacy of Al Capone (1975), George Murray; and Mr. Capone (1992), Robert J. Schoenberg. Various WPA Guides on the states through which the O’Sullivans travel were also used, as was the fine historical picture book I Remember Distinctly: A Family Album of the American People in the Years of Peace: 1918 to Pearl Harbor (1947) by Agnes Rogers and Frederick Lewis Allen. Also, I used the article “Smashing Rock Island’s Reign of Terror” by O. F. Claybaugh in the December 1930 issue of Master Detective.
Dean Zanuck and his late father, Richard—producers of the motion picture Road to Perdition—went out of their way to see that this novel came “home” to me. K
risty Cox of DreamWorks was generous with photographic materials and updated scripts; it might be of interest that this novel, like most movie “novelizations” (dreaded word), was by necessity written before I had access to the film. Writers of movie tie-in novels almost always are imagining what the film will be, working (like a director) with a screenplay and creating their own version.
I would also like to acknowledge the illustrator of the original graphic novel, Richard Piers Rayner, who so wonderfully brought this story to life; his artistry had much to do with attracting the attention of Hollywood to this material. Thanks, too, to Andrew Helfer, the graphic novel’s editor, whose story sense was unerring; without Andy’s dedication to this project, and his belief in it, none of this would have happened. Thank you Paul Levitz of DC Comics for publishing the graphic novel, and helping clear the bramble of rights to enable the writing of this prose version. I urge readers who enjoy this novel—and/or the Sam Mendes film version—to seek out our original work.
I would also like to thank my wife Barbara Collins and son Nathan, for their love, inspiration, and support; my friend and agent, Dominick Abel; and Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks, for liking my story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Max Allan Collins has earned an unprecedented twenty-two Private Eye Writers of America “Shamus” Award nominations, winning for his Nathan Heller novels True Detective (1983) and Stolen Away (1991), as well as the PWA “Eye” award for Life Achievement (2006). In 2012, his Nathan Heller saga was honored with the PWA “Hammer” award for making a major contribution to the private-eye genre.
His graphic novel Road to Perdition (1998) is the basis of the Academy Award-winning Tom Hanks film, followed by two acclaimed prose sequels (also published by Brash Books) and several graphic novels. He has created a number of innovative suspense series, including Mallory, Quarry, Eliot Ness, and the “Disaster” novels. He is completing a number of “Mike Hammer” novels begun by the late Mickey Spillane; his full-cast audio novel Mike Hammer: The Little Death, with Stacy Keach, won a 2011 Audie for best original work.
His comics credits include the syndicated strip Dick Tracy, his own Ms. Tree, and Batman.
For five years, he was the sole writer on the novel series based on the popular TV show CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (and its spin-offs), writing ten best-selling books, four graphic novels, and four award-winning video games. His tie-in books have appeared on the USA Today best-seller list nine times and the New York Times list three times, including Saving Private Ryan, Air Force One, and American Gangster, which won the Best Novel “Scribe” Award in 2008 from the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.
As an independent filmmaker in the Midwest, Collins has written and directed four features, including the Lifetime movie Mommy (1996); and he scripted The Expert, a 1995 HBO World Premiere, as well as the film-festival favorite The Last Lullaby (2009). His documentary Caveman: V.T. Hamlin & Alley Oop (2008) has appeared on PBS and on DVD, and his documentary Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane (1998) appears on the Criterion Collection DVD and Blu-ray of Kiss Me Deadly. His innovative Quarry novels are the basis of a current Cinemax TV series, for which he is providing some of the scripts.
His play Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life was nominated for an Edgar Award in 2004 by the Mystery Writers of America; a film version, written and directed by Collins, was released on DVD and appeared on PBS stations in 2009.
Collins lives in Iowa with his wife, writer Barbara Collins; as “Barbara Allan,” they have collaborated on nine novels, including the successful “Trash ‘n’ Treasures” mysteries, with Antiques Flee Market (2008) winning the Romantic Times Best Humorous Mystery Novel award of 2009.
Road to Perdition Page 23
