Plausible deniability

"I been t'inkin'," said Al Capone. He paused. His capi dared not utter a word, much less a smart remark. They remembered what happened to Giuseppe Wilsoni when he talked back once—got his name in the papers and his wife, she was working in the cop shop passing on information to the family, she got in the papers too.

"We’ve been gettin' a bad name," Capone went on. "All dis shootin' an' musclin' an' what-all. And baseball bats—maybe I went a little overboard on dat Valentine's Day t'ing, even if dey was bastids. Dat's America’s favourite game. We got us a black mark." He paused again.

"I been talkin' to the consigliere," he said, "an' Carlo t'inks dis makes sense. So, here's what I’m gonna do. I'm gonna make a statement to de press, one a dem press conferences, only I'm gonna call it, not some gavone like Ricardo. Nice guy, but he shoots his friends inna face, know what I mean?" The capi nodded. "And here's what I'm gonna say. I'm gonna announce dat we ain't gonna pop nobody again unless dey're askin' for it. And our enforcers ain't gonna hurt nobody no more, unless dey're askin’ for it too. And we ain't gonna hu-mil-iate nobody when we talk to 'em. We're gonna treat 'em with respect. Capisc'?"

The capi laughed appreciatively. "You got questions?" Al asked. "No? OK, let's get back to business. And if any bad stuff's goin' on, it's against my orders, so just be careful what youse doin'."

"See dem smiles?" Al said to a nearby associate as his capi headed out. "Dat's what I like--a happy workplace."