O’Malley sat in the middle of the bar, surrounded by his mobster cronies. He
controlled the construction industry in Chicago. There were no unions anymore, 
but workers could still stage slow-downs, still arrange accidents. Itami was 
tired of slow-downs, tired of accidents. He needed the construction finished in 
certain neighborhoods so that he could start dumping some of the expensive 
illegal simsense chips he’d invested in. He wanted the rich to have new homes.