He kept a shrine on his mantelpiece.

A doll-like Christ child peering out at me from a calendar for May’s Grocery &
Delicatessen. An image of the statue at St. Vincent’s Cathedral in Lincoln Park, where
Henry attended mass up to five times a day.

Also on his mantelpiece: cut-outs of models for the Vivian girls, a framed photo of a
Christ child, a crucifix, three icons of the Virgin Mary. All those eyes. These are the
sacred images he would both worship and direct his rage towards.