"One million!"
Money? Meyer Lansky was never afraid of spending money to get things done. As long as the money was in place and the task could be accomplished, no matter how much was spent, it would be worth it. Since Nair seemed confident, Meyer was willing to give it a try.
"Not enough, far from enough!"
Nair had something in mind, and one million would barely serve as a starting point, let alone open the necessary doors. To an average person, this amount of money might seem like something one could hardly earn in a lifetime. But in the present situation, it would make no more impact than tossing a pebble into a pond, making only a small splash.
"Three million," Meyer Lansky continued with his offer. To him, three million would be the key to nearly anything.
If he donated three million to the church, Meyer might even be considered a "blessed" man when he died. Of course, as a Jew, he wouldn't actually believe in Catholicism, but it was a good figure, enough to "buy off" the Father and the Son.
"Five million, at least five million! And it must be clean."
When the number came out, even Meyer Lansky, who had seen it all, couldn't help but swallow nervously. Frederick, standing nearby, was also speechless. It was hard to imagine that a young man from a small town, with a net worth far from five million, could so easily—no, so calmly—mention such a sum.
It was either a sign of mental instability, or perhaps, as Meyer and Frederick surmised, a big plan at play. Clearly, they leaned towards the latter. Nair's demeanor made it clear that he wasn't bluffing.
Meyer swallowed again, took a sip of his coffee, and studied Nair's face, trying to discern any hidden thoughts. Even with his control over the Italian mafia, five million clean dollars was not something Meyer could come up with instantly.
To give another example, Meyer paid Chicago's police commissioner one hundred thousand dollars a year. For that sum, the commissioner would turn a blind eye to Meyer's activities and even offer some inside information.
Money was certainly tempting.
"I don't know if you're familiar with Nevada..." Seeing that both men were struck by the five million figure, Nair smiled and took a sip of his coffee. He didn't drink it, though—he just added milk and stirred it.
The silver spoon tapping the porcelain cup created a rhythmic, crisp sound. The small action added a touch of elegance to Nair's smile, enhancing his overall aura.
"Tell me," Meyer Lansky moved his chair, sitting next to Nair, as if to say he was all ears.
"Long story short..."
Nevada, located on the West Coast next to California, was one of the territories taken from Mexico. Established during the Civil War, it was often referred to as a state born from the fires of war.
The state's establishment was largely due to the discovery of the Comstock Lode, a silver mine once considered the largest in the world. This caused a rush of German and Basque Spanish immigrants, drawn by the mining boom. After years of development, Nevada became one of the wealthiest states in the U.S.
However, once the silver mines were exhausted, the population began to dwindle. Nevada's climate was arid, not suitable for large-scale agriculture, and so the state transitioned into one dependent on ranching. Even into the 21st century, the state had a population of just over two million—fewer than Chicago's population. This was due to the harsh living conditions and the vast, sparse lands.
The population concentrated mainly along the Pacific Railroad, infamous for the Chinese laborers who perished building it.
Then, as if things weren't bad enough, the Great Depression hit. With ranching as the state's primary industry, Nevada collapsed. Ranchers, facing plummeting livestock prices, slaughtered their animals and buried them. They stopped raising livestock altogether. There was no point in selling when they couldn't make a profit, and it was better to just "wipe the slate clean."
The massive culling of livestock devastated the state's economy. Agricultural companies and ranch owners fled, paying fewer taxes, and Nevada found itself teetering on the brink of bankruptcy.
Of course, this wasn't the only state facing such dire circumstances—many others were in a similar state of financial ruin. But Meyer Lansky knew what Nair was getting at.
"Other states have also seen their tax revenue decrease. What's so special about Nevada?" Meyer asked, already aware of the facts, but seeking further clarification.
"Recently, I heard on the radio that Nevada is debating a bill to partially repeal Prohibition," Nair added, hoping to fan the flames.
"What?" Meyer had never heard of this.
It turned out that part of the reason other Italian mobs had tried to assassinate Meyer was because of the growing movement to repeal Prohibition across the country.
It wasn't driven by any moral cause, but simply because the government couldn't take it anymore. They were starving and desperately needed the revenue from alcohol taxes, amounting to over half a billion dollars, even up to six hundred million, to keep their operations running.
Now, politicians didn't care about Prohibition anymore. What they needed was money—money to keep the government functioning and to pay salaries. With the possibility of new taxes likely leading to riots, the only option was to tap into existing tax streams, like alcohol taxes, which were far more lucrative and easy to manage.
Other states were just beginning to test the waters, with politicians making subtle hints about the need to curb mafia influence. But Nevada was already at rock bottom. If it couldn't find a way to make money soon, it would die in the process.
Thus, while other states were still considering, Nevada had already called an emergency session to discuss the possibility of a limited repeal of Prohibition, preparing to put it to a vote.
So, in such an impoverished state, what couldn't they do?