Hmm, wonder whats in the back seat? Oh.

Back on this date in 1926 a Chrysler sedan was abandoned in a west Harlem neighborhood. The auto was unfamiliar to the residents of the block and, after a number of hours had passed, some one looked inside. There in the back seat sat the earthly remains of Charles Caffrey. Sent to the great beyond by two bullets to the chest.

Caffrey, twenty-five, was an ex-convict with a record of about ten arrests. The police were fairly certain that he was killed in a Harlem apartment house. They had received a call saying that shots were fired in said house and a resident of the building told police that he saw three men who were supporting a fourth exit the building. When he asked what was wrong, they told him that the man was sick and they were helping him get a cab.

The only problem was that the witness said that the victim was about 6 ft tall and was wearing a blue suit whereas Caffrey was only about 5’6 and was wearing a brown suit. Police decided that the witnesses made an error and that the victim was indeed Caffrey after they found two spent cartridges in the upper apartment and a hat out front that fit the recently departed's head perfectly. The cops called the murder a ‘Thieves fight”.

Ars gratia artis

Who in the Hudson Valley needs something to do this Saturday?

http://www.thedailymail.net/articles/2012/06/08/news/doc4fd188f962063624709815.txt

I'll be there signing books from 1-4pm. After that I'll be smoking bath salts and roaming around. I apologize in advance if I eat your face.

He screamed for ice cream

On this day in 1923 Michael Nicolosi, the thirty-five year old manager of the Novelty Water Ice Company, was unloading a truck when two gunmen came up and pumped four shots into him.

The streets were crowded with people, some of who, fired off their guns in order to alert police to the shooting as the killers made their escape. Nicolosi died after a few moments but managed to utter "These men made a mistake." Whether he meant it literally or figuratively is unknown.

The police believed that this murder was another in a series of shootings between rivals in the ice cream business. Others included Nicolosi's brother Carmello who, the Times said, was killed the previous year and a guy named Joseph Lagumina who was murdered in 1921. Interestingly, Nicholas lived only three doors down from where Lagumina had his ice cream company.

Final number for McNamara's band

Passing bad checks, forgery, posing as a revenue agent, selling drugs, yup Michael McNamara did it all.
It was for bootlegging however, that the police believed the forty-year old never-do-well was ushered out of this life.
Eighty-five years ago today somebody placed a pistol under Michael's chin and pulled the trigger. Two more pills were pumped into his heart. Michael was then driven to Queens where his body was dragged from the car and dumped into some bushes behind a cemetery. Guess they wanted to make things easier for the disposal unit...Oh yeah, the police  found a book containing a list of New York City nightclubs on his person, that's why they thought he was a bootlegger.

Waxey's guy gets whacked.

The spring of 1933 found beer baron Waxey Gordon in jail and his gang being thinned out by rival gangsters. On this date 79-years ago, a Waxey confederate named William Oppenheim, know as "Big Bill", was walking up the steps to his apartment when a couple of guys came up from behind and called out to him. Big Bill turned to greet his callers and received five bullets in his face. After he was down five more were pumped into his chest for good measure.

Going postal

On the evening of April 2, 1920 two carloads of yeggs from New York City, Philadelphia and Newark, NJ pulled into the town of Oxford Furnace, North Carolina and broke into the town’s post office. The night watchman yelled, “Andy!! Barney!! Quick, citizen’s arrest, citizen’s arrest.” But was gagged and bound.

With no more interruptions the gang spent two hours blowing the safe. For their labors they walked out with $30,000 worth of cash, liberty bonds, stamps and "I love pulled pork" bumper stickers. The night watchman managed to free himself and a posse was formed but by that time the robbers had made a successful getaway.

The gang of city slickers returned to their flat at 43 Sand Street, Brooklyn and laughed and laughed at the rubes whom they had ripped off. Well, if there is one thing the Postal Service hates it’s dogs that bite. If there is a second thing the USPS hates, it's being robbed. So the Postal Inspectors began to investigate and through their mystical, and un-reported to the press, ways they managed to trace the bandits to their Sand Street lair in early May.

Once they found the gangs hideout New York detectives were brought in and the flat was watched for three weeks until they were sure the whole gang was inside and on this date, ninety-two-years ago, they raided the joint.

Once the captives:
John Murray
Walter Murray
Archie Birch
John O’Brien
William Dates
John Lahey
William O’Neill

Were in custody a Sheriff Taylor and his deputy from Oxford Furnace came in and got medieval on their backsides whilst whistling a jaunty little tune.