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I went searching for the Five Points when I first came to New York, and couldn't find them anywhere. Not a single point left sticking up, it seemed, even in the thornier city of the early eighties. The Five Points, I knew from the book I clutched in my hand as I went looking, was an intersection of three downtown streets--Anthony, Orange, and Cross (later Worth, Baxter, and Park)--which formed five corners, and it had once been the legendary neighborhood of New York crime and New York criminals. These weren't the kind of criminals we had now but a more interesting sort, with neat names and great hats. It was the place where the Dead Rabbits and the Plug Uglies and the ...