The Barrel Mystery

CHAPTER XXIV

METHODS OF BLACKMAILING

A threatening letter is sent to a proposed victim. Immediately after the letter is delivered by the postman Morello just "happens" to be in the vicinity of the victim to be, and "accidentally" meets the receiver of the letter.

The receiver knows of Morello's close connections with Italian malefactors, and, the thing being fresh in mind, calls Morello's attention to the letter.

Morello takes the letter and reads it. He informs the receiver that victims are not killed off without ceremony and just for the sake of murder.

The "Black-Hand" chief himself declares he will locate the man who sent the letter, if such a thing is possible, the victim never suspecting that the letter is Morello's own. Of course, the letter is never returned to the proposed victim. By this cunning procedure no evidence remains in the hand of the receiver of the letter should he wish to seek aid from the police.

Also, Morello is in this way put in close touch with the mental attitude of the receiver of the letter, and he is in a position to tell whether the receiver will go to the police or not.

Morello thus can tell whether to proceed with further threats; he can also tell what manner of threat is most likely to persuade the receiver of the letter to part with his money.

The threat may be the stealing of his little child or the blowing up of his store or the horrible invitation to expect swift and sudden death from a knife thrust in the dark.

Morello was practically the first man to make this manner of blackmail a commercial success in this country.

Here are a few samples of letters taken by the Secret Service men from Morello's house when he was arrested on the charges upon which he was convicted of counterfeiting United States money. It was for these letters also that the offer of $500 was made in part.

The letter which follows had been sent through the mail to Liborio Bataglia, at No. 13 Prince Street, New York City. Morello had got the letter back in the usual way that I have just explained. It reads in the English translation from the Sicilian as follows:

"Mr. Bataglia:

"Do not think that we are dead. Look out for your face; a veil won't help you. Now is the occasion to give me five hundred dollars on account of that which you others don't know respect that from then to now you should have kissed my forehead I have been in your store, friend Donate how you respect him he is an ignorant boob, that I bring you others I hope that all will end that when we are alone they give me no peace as I deserve time lost that brings you will know us neither some other of the Mafia in the future will write in the bank where you must send the money without so many stories otherwise you will pay for it."

Here is another letter that had been sent through the mails and obtained by Morello in the usual manner. It bears a Brooklyn postmark and is dated September 21, 1908. It was addressed to Rosario Oliveri, 27 Stanton Street. It reads in the translation from the Sicilian:

"Dear Friend:

"Beware we are sick and tired of writing to you to the appointment you have not come with people of honor. If this time you don't do what we say it will be your ruination. Send us three hundred dollars with people of honor at eleven o'clock Thursday night. There will be a friend at the corner of 15th Street and Hamilton Ave. He will ask you for the signal. Give me the word and you will give him the money. Beware that if you don't come to this order we will ruin all your merchandise and attempt your life. Beware of what you do.

Here is a polite invitation to a proposed victim that he very kindly dispense with his money. It reads:

"Friend:

"The need obliges us to come to you in order to do us a favor. We request, Sunday night, 7th day, at 12 o'clock you must bring the sum of $1000. Under penalty of death for you and your dears you must come under the new bridge near the Grand Street ferry where you will find the person that wants to know the time. At this word you will give him the money. Beware of what you do and keep your mouth shut…"

I summoned a great many of the people to whom these letters were sent and asked them to tell who they met and how much money they gave to the "Black-Handers." But invariably these people, some of whom I knew were victims, would deny that they had met any person in answer to the letter, and they would also deny that they ever thought of giving any money to appease the wrath of the "Black-Hand" Society.

CHAPTER XXV

TRACING A LETTER

While I was hot on the trail of the counterfeiting gang led by Lupo and Morello, a letter came to my hand which contained a counterfeit five-dollar note. The letter was addressed to Andrea Pollara, Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, Canada. The letter was written in Italian and translated was as follows:

"Dear Friend:

"I enclose a sample of those for $5 and beg you buy five cents of Griciria (the "black-hand" word for glycerine) which if rubbed on certain counterfeit bills will give them the appearance of age, and so make them the more easy to pass, and rub it on your hands, and then you will do whatever you want. If you see they will go well, notify me at once and I will send you as many as you want."

The note was signed I. P. It was a registered letter and sealed with black wax by a stamp seal bearing the name of F. Acritelli, No. 243 Elizabeth Street. The return address on this letter was Giuseppe Conti, No. 8 Prince Street, New York City. The letter also showed that it had been mailed at Sub-Station No. 78, which is in the Italian bank conducted by Pasquale Pati, at No. 240 Elizabeth Street, just across the street from where the letter had been sealed at Acritelli's banking place. This Acritelli, by the way, is the father of the former Coroner Acritelli.

The initials on the signature of the letter, I guessed were those of Pietro Inzarillo. This man conducted a little Italian café at No. 226 Elizabeth Street, in the same block where Acritelli's bank was, and also in the same block where the sub post office station was located where the letter had been registered. Also, I knew that this Inzarillo was just around the corner from the grocery store of Lupo, at No. 8 Prince Street; and in the back of Lupo's café, Morello conducted his Italian restaurant.

I examined the five-dollar counterfeit bill and saw that it was the work of the Lupo-Morello gang.

Then, too, the return address, No. 8 Prince Street, was where Morello and Lupo were doing business. The problem was how to connect these two fellows with the writing of the letter. It had been rejected when brought back there by the letter carrier.

I hit upon the plan of finding out whether the handwriting was that of Lupo, which I had reason to believe it was. I remembered that several of the Lupo-Morello gang were in the Tombs awaiting trial for counterfeiting. I knew that many of their friends applied to United States Marshal Henkel for passes to visit the members of the gang locked up. Two of these were Isadore Crocervera and Giuseppe DePriema. The latter, by the way, was the brother-in-law of the man found murdered in the barrel.

I went to Marshal Henkel and told him what I was after, and made arrangements with him to get the handwriting of all those who called and asked for passes to see the two Morello-Lupo counterfeiters. So whenever the visiting members called at the marshal's office and asked for passes the marshal pretended that he did not understand and had the visitors write out what they wished and required them to sign the request for passes. In this way I obtained the signature and handwriting of a number of the gang, but failed in the main purpose, namely, that of obtaining a sample of Lupo's handwriting or his signature.

Despite the fact that I was satisfied that the workmanship of the bill was that of the Lupo-Morello crowd, and though I was confident that Lupo wrote the letter, yet when the letter was returned to No. 8 Prince Street nobody there would accept it for Giuseppe Conti, the information to the letter carrier being that no such person lived there or was known there. When you know the ways of the Sicilian criminal this occurrence alone is good grounds for believing that a great deal more was known about Giuseppe Conti at the Prince Street address than was given to the letter carrier.

I hit upon another plan. I knew that Lupo was importing into this country a large quantity of olive oil, which had to pass the government officials. Accordingly, I went to see John Hughes, brother of former Inspector of Police Edward Hughes, who was at one time in charge of the Detective Bureau at Police Headquarters. I told Hughes what I wanted. He was in the Custom's service.

Hughes brought it about so that the consignment of olive oil to Lupo was held up, compelling Lupo himself to write out a list of the goods he desired to have admitted over his personal signature. The statement was then taken to a handwriting expert and also the letter containing the counterfeit five-dollar bill was placed at the disposal of the expert, who declared that the handwriting of the letter and that of the statement written by Lupo for his consignment of olive oil was one and the same.

Now I had established a connecting link that would stand the test of the courts. But there were many other things about the letter that led me to go further before making any allegation against the wily Lupo.

It occurred to me it might be well to know why the letter had been sent away out to a railroad camp in Portage La Prairie. I got men to work on that end of the case. We found that Andrea Pollara was a laborer in a railroad camp at the address to which the letter had been sent. Further, it was established that Andrea Pollara was the agent of the gang in the camp where a number of Italians were employed mending and building spurs on the railroad. He had been sent there to investigate and see whether it was a profitable place in which to distribute some of the spurious bills. Additional information disclosed the fact that the railroad camp had moved and the letter having been addressed to Portage La Prairie, and not being called for, was returned to the address written on the back, Giuseppe Conti, No. 8 Prince Street. This cleared up in my mind the reasons for the letter being sent to the Canadian railroad camp and also the cause of its being returned.

Other little connecting links were established over which I was building a bridge to Lupo in his Italian grocery store. It came to my mind that Lupo had done quite some business with Banker Acritelli, and Lupo was also on more than familiar terms with Banker Pati. I knew that Lupo and Inzarillo were very friendly. It was found that the man to whom the letter had been addressed to in Canada was not Andrea Pollara. This was an assumed name. The right name of the "Black-Hander" was Salvatore Maccari, who had a wife living in New York City. The net of evidence was closing on Lupo.

While I was gathering the threads together, the tragedy of the barrel murder came to public notice. While the police of New York were groping around in the dark, I submitted information of which I have spoken previously in this book, and the arrest of a number of the gang for the murder of the victim in the barrel followed. Among those arrested was Lupo. When he was placed in custody his house was searched, and the following letter, written in Italian, was found. It was postmarked Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, Canada, addressed to Pietro Inzarillo, No. 226 Elizabeth Street, New York City, dated September 4, 1902, and translated reads:

"Dear Friend:

"By the present I give you the news of my good health and of all the friends who are with me, and so we hope to hear from you and all the friends in New York, whom we respect. Meantime, I beg of you warmly to tell me when the goods arrive, and to send me the samples of a five in order to see whether we can do business, prompt answer and samples. I and all the friends salute you together with the friends over in New York, I am your friend Andrea Pollara. My address is the following, Mr. Andrea Pollara, Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, Canada. P. S. Dear Paolo, I beg of you to send me five dollars you or Ignazio (meant for Ignazio Lupo) that as soon as I get my money I will return them to you, nothing else, I am your friend 'Salvatore Matisi.' Be so kind as to put them in the letter of your friend, I am sure you will favor me."

The reader will not require much taxing of his thinking powers to realize that the returned letter containing the counterfeit $5.00 note was written in response to the above letter.

When Lupo was searched we found another clue. A note book was found on him in which the following entry is recorded:

"S. Matisi, sent to Canada $5.00 – to his wife $5.00 – ditto $4.00."

Opposite this entry, that is, on the opposite page in the note book, is written:

"The name Matisi is mentioned a number of times in this book as are also the names of a number of counterfeiters including Isadore Crocervera and Giuseppe DePriema."

These entries were taken to a handwriting expert who declared that the handwriting was the same as that in the letter which I started tracing after its return here from Portage La Prairie. These entries, however, were in English, and I may note here that Lupo wrote English.

Twelve of the gang were arrested by the New York police when they rounded up the crowd incident to the barrel murder. Among those arrested with Lupo was Pietro Inzarillo. When the latter was arrested, his café at No. 226 Elizabeth Street was searched and a letter from Maccari was found. The letter was postmarked Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, Canada, dated September 1st, 1902, and addressed to Pietro Inzarillo, alias Saitta (Lupo's full name being Ignazio Lupo Saitta), Elizabeth Street, New York. The rest of the address is illegible. The letter reads:

"Dear Friend:

"With these few words I come to make you a note of my perfect health, the same I hope to hear from you, you brothers also, I desire to know how your father has been; therefore I recommend to you that affair that I left in your charge. If my Uncle Thomas comes from Ebgostien, do not forget the affair that is the direction that you have given to Carmino, do not let it go up in the air. As soon as possible that you can, make it. Nothing else to tell you. Give my regards to Paolo Marchese, regards to Giuseppe Morello and John Pecorain and all the friends that ask for me, with the best of regards to you, I say your dear friend 'Salvatore Matisi' accept the regards from Carmelo Blandina. This is the direction – Salvatore Maccari, P. O. Portage La Prairie Manitoba, Canada."

No comment is necessary concerning the letter. It speaks for itself as another thread in the net I was weaving.

It did not take agents of the Secret Service long to "pick up" Maccari. He was not aware of the fact that he was under surveillance for some time prior to May 2, of 1902, when he was placed under arrest at his home in No. 70½ James Street, New York City. When his apartments were searched agents of the service looked under Maccari's bed and found letters written from Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, Canada, and signed Salvatore Maccari. These letters were addressed to Maccari's wife, and contained what is termed "rivetting" evidence. Also, there were letters from his wife to Maccari and addressed to him at Portage La Prairie.

When placed under arrest Maccari at first denied that he knew either Lupo or Inzarillo, and proved to be a proverbial Italian at giving information to the police. He would not admit that he had ever seen or heard of either of the two men. He knew nothing about the counterfeit money, and had never even seen any spurious bills either in this country or in Italy. He made the sign of the cross and called on the saints to prove the truth of his lying statements. He declared that he could not read, neither could he write.

Later on he admitted that he was intimately acquainted with Lupo and that Lupo's father and his father were great friends in Italy for years and that both families were life-long friends. He also admitted that he was well acquainted with Inzarillo. He also declared that the letters were written by a friend and signed at his, Maccari's, dictation. And more evidence was ferreted out.

The water mark in the billheads used by Lupo in his grocery business was identical with that in the letter sent to Portage La Prairie, and having on it the return address of Giuseppe Conti, No. 8 Prince Street. The envelope upon which the return address was written was the same make as the envelopes found in the café of Inzarillo when that place was searched following Inzarillo's arrest in connection with the barrel murder.

On October 24, 1902, a registered letter addressed to Andrea Pollara, with the return address P. Inzarillo and Giglio, was returned to Lupo at his residence, No. 433 West Fortieth Street. Pollara could not be located in the Canadian camp and so the letter came back. Lupo signed the receipt for the returned letter. The handwriting was the same as in the instances already related wherein the "Black-Hander's" scribbling was identified by an expert.

I will not weary the reader with further efforts along this line of reaching one of the big chiefs of the gang as he stood far in the background, certain of his immunity from any connection in a legal sense with the distributor of the money his brain had planned to build up his fortune on.

CHAPTER XXVI

"BLACK-HAND" PROPAGANDA

The method followed in enlisting Antonio Schiavi into the service of the gang affords a typical example of the cunning, watchful procedure of the Lupo-Morello secret propaganda, which was in a fair way to become of world-wide scope. A gang member, Giuseppe Gudo, managed to send Schiavi to a drug store where he was sure to meet Antonio Miloni.7

Schiavi tells of leaving Rio de Janeiro about February 23, 1909, on the steamship Gunther, and arriving in New York in the middle of February of the same year. While on shipboard he became acquainted with Giuseppe Gudo, a tailor of Newark, New Jersey. After striking up a friendly acquaintance with Gudo Schiavi says, and telling Gudo that he was a litho-engraver, Bono sent him to the drug store of Mocito, at No. 20 Broome Street, where Schiavi was to ask for Giuseppe Carlino, another litho-engraver who would get employment in New York for Schiavi.

Schiavi never met any Carlino, he says, but Gudo had spoken about him (Schiavi), the latter learned at the drug store. Accordingly, Schiavi continued to go to the Mocito store and remained there for a half day at a time in the hope of meeting Gudo. He was unsuccessful in this, though, but often met Cecala at the drug store. One day Cecala spoke to him, Schiavi says, and suggested that with a little money he (Schiavi) could start in a profitable business.

Cecala never said much more concerning this business venture, though, to Schiavi, but one day Cecala made a further suggestion that Schiavi might help a certain man learn the photo-engraving business. This man, according to Cecala, had been in the bicycle business, but had given up this enterprise and was looking around for employment that promised to be more remunerative.

Finally, one day at the drug store, he was introduced to Antonio B. Miloni by Cecala who told Schiavi that Miloni was the man of whom Cecala had been speaking and who wanted to learn the photo-engraving business.

Schiavi and Miloni had an extended conversation, and Schiavi agreed to go to the home of Miloni and teach him the business. Then for about six weeks or two months Schiavi went to the home of Miloni daily, and taught the "Black-Hander" the essentials of the photo-engraving business. At the end of that time, according to Schiavi, Miloni discovered that he could proceed by himself and announced to Schiavi that he (Miloni) had joined the photo-engravers' union.

About a year or so after this, Schiavi says he met Miloni on Third Avenue near One Hundred and Fourteenth Street, and Miloni was on his way home. The latter had in his possession, Schiavi says, a camera and all the necessaries for photographing. Also, Schiavi says, Miloni took him along to a photo-engraving supply store at No. 103 Mott Street, where the "Black-Hander" bought several kinds of the supplies necessary to the photo-engraving business.

Schiavi then tells of making a rendezvous of the Mocito drug store after this incident. He met a man in the drug store by the name of Don Ciccio (Francesco) who made the drug store a camping place. This Don Ciccio posed as being in the real estate business and declared that he was an agent. What manner of agent he was, Schiavi says, Don Ciccio never made clear. This same Don Ciccio, according to Schiavi, once asked him whether he were able to make plates for money. Schiavi informed the real estate man that he could make the plates, but preferred his liberty to a term in the confines of a jail. Miloni was present during the conversation between Schiavi and Don Ciccio, according to Schiavi, but Miloni did not enter into the conversation. There were others who frequented the drug store and who were identified by Schiavi as members of the gang now imprisoned on the charges of counterfeiting.

In many ways, too numerous to relate, information of this sort came to me until the Secret Service was facing the onerous task of digesting and coördinating it for its special needs to keep the legal tender of the country secure.

The subtle, round-about manner in which the "Black-Hander" scatters the seeds of his propaganda so that they will grow and bear fruit of themselves and disarm suspicion is well-illustrated in the way in which the attempt was made to inveigle Schiavi.

Corleone is the home town of Morello and Lupo, the arch-plotters. It is a place fascinating to the eye of the artist. Nestling at the foot of Mount Cardellia, in the province of Palermo, Sicily, it lies about two thousand feet above sea-level and seems to be sailing in the clouds like a phantom city of the Middle Ages.

Corleone means Lion-Heart. Korliun it was named by the Saracens, who founded it and made it a military stronghold in the picturesque thirteenth century. Something of the savage, marauding spirit of the Saracen, always a menace to civilization, hovers about the place – a savagery that has nursed into being a dangerous and powerful arm of the great Mafia or "Black-Hand" Society of Italy. The town holds only about twenty thousand inhabitants and there is no industry to speak of. Palermo is but twenty-one miles to the north of it. There is a splendid old church in Corleone reminiscent of the time when King Frederick II colonized these parts with Lombardian peasants as early as 1237.

One night in the year 1889, while on his way home, Giovanni Vella, Chief of the Sylvan Guards, was murdered in a dark street but a short distance from his residence in Corleone. A bullet had torn its way through his back and into his lung. Vella lasted but a few minutes after the shooting, but long enough to cause a nasty tangle for the police in their effort to solve the murder. Vella lived just long enough to utter a few remarks that were misused by Mafia influences to send an innocent man to prison for twenty-two years.

Anna Di Puma, a neighbor, returning to her house at that hour had just passed through a dark alley and noticed two men lurking in the shadow. She passed close and looked into their faces, recognizing one of the men as Giuseppe Morello, whom she knew very well.

A couple of minutes later, even before she had reached her door, she heard a shot and ran back into the alley. There she found Vella lying in the exact spot where she had seen Morello and his companion apparently hiding but a few minutes previously. Anna Di Puma told the neighbors what she had seen. She was also incautious enough to say that she was going to court to tell on the witness stand just what she had observed.