Ah, the carefree life of a gambler. All you need is a suitcase and a trunk and in the case of Chicago gambler, Harry Teuber, eyes in the back of the head would have come in handy. For it was eighty-two years ago today that Harry was seated at a table in a barbershop getting a manicure. While a young lady polished his digits another, named Annette, who polished other parts of Harry, waited in a barber's chair.
Through the back door of the barber shop crept a man with gun and a
grudge, or, possibly just orders from above to remove Harry from
Chicago's underworld. He came up through the rear of the shop, stuck a
pistol through a partition and fired four shots into Harry's head. Slump
went Harry across the table. The manicurist jumped up horrified,
Harry's girlfriend jumped up and skedaddled. The gunman escaped out the
Harry's wife identified him at the morgue. Police found the apartment he
shared with Annette and there they learned that Annette's father worked at
the upscale gambling joint the 225 Club. The owner of which went the way
of Harry the previous month. That seemed to be enough for the cops to
chalk the murder up to "gamblers feud".