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."
"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 andsaw 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 notunderstand 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 chargeof 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 Pollarawas 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 NewYork 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 thefriends 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."
"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 thefriends 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 anumber 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:
"Canada Pacife, August 31, 1902."Dear Friend:"With these few words I come to make you a note of my perfect health, the same I hope tohear 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."
"Canada Pacife, August 31, 1902.
"Dear Friend:
"With these few words I come to make you a note of my perfect health, the same I hope tohear 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 servicelooked 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 thatthe 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 chiefsof 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.
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 ofleaving Rio de Janeiro about February 23, 1909, on the steamshipGunther, 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 whotold 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 DonCiccio (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-illustratedin 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.Korliunit 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 wayhome, 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 tocourt to tell on the witness stand just what she had observed.
Anna Di Puma was shot in the back and killed two days later while she was sitting on the door-step of a neighbor's store.
Morello was arrested and charged with the murder of the Di Puma woman. He was held in prison to await trial, but powerful influences of the Mafia were set to work and Morello was discharged for lack of evidence. The only witness to the murder of Vella was dead. Two lawyers of his band testified that Morello was in Palermo with them and not in Corleone on the night the Di Puma woman was murdered.
Michele Guarino Zangara, living in the next apartment to Morello, who noticed when the "Black-Hander" arrived home and overheard the conversation that followed between Morello and his mother, was also murdered. He was thrown off a bridge one night while on his way home. He was found the next morning under the bridge dead. This man Zangara had gone to the accused man's house, three or four days after the Chief of the Sylvan Guards was murdered, and told the family of the man unjustly arrestedfor the crime that he (Guarino) had overheard Mrs. Morello say to her son:
"Peppe, what have you done? Now they will come and arrest you," and in response to this Morello said, "Shut up, mother, they have gone on the wrong scent."
Zangara, being a man with a large family, feared to tell what he knew because he felt sure that Morello would murder him just as he had slain the Di Puma woman. However, when the accused man, Francesco Ortonello, was convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment, Zangara came to the front, declaring that his conscience troubled him to see an innocent man sent away for the murder of Vella. He went to the authorities and told them that he was willing to risk his life and tell the truth for Ortonello. The authorities told Zangara that it would have been better had he told it during the trial. Now it was too late.
A few days after this the murder of Zangara took place.
Morello was on his way to America at this time, but the "Black-Hander" had many powerful friends still watchful for his interests, and some of these attended to Zangara.
Pietro Milone, a police officer who tried hard to clear Ortonello, was murdered one night on his way home. The one who slew the officer was never punished.
Biaggia Milone lived across the way from the spot where Morello and his companion were seen hiding, and this woman subsequently admitted she saw the shooting and that Morello did it.
This woman is now in New York, and is the cousin of Domenico Milone, who conducted the grocery store at No. 235 East Ninety-seventh Street, which was the headquarters and distributing plant for the Lupo-Morello counterfeit money. The Milone woman has even stated publicly that she would not testify to what she knows in behalf of Ortonello in an effort to get the old man out of prison where, she says, she knows he is unjustly kept!
Ortonello's father, who tried to have his son freed, was threatened with death several times, and several shots were actually fired at him while the old man sat in his own doorway. The marksmanship was not good and the old man escaped the bullets.
While Morello was in prison charged with murdering the Di Puma woman he met Ortonelloin the prison. Morello admitted to Ortonello that he had murdered Vella, the chief of the Sylvan Guards, for which crime Ortonello was there in the prison awaiting trial. Morello also informed Ortonello that if he and all his family did not care to join Vella in the world to come that the whole family had better be careful of what they said and what charges they made, and that any evidence tending to show his (Morello's) complicity in the crime must be suppressed.
In order that the reader may view the foregoing facts in proper perspective it will be necessary for me to relate a little of the politics and the relation of the so-called Mafia to the murders.
Vella, the murdered chief, was a very active and knowing man. He had dug up a great amount of evidence against the criminal band of which Morello was a member, and which was under the leadership of a very wealthy and powerful young man named Paolino Streva.
Vella had sworn in public that he would put this band out of business in and around Corleone. He also had decided to place Morello under surveillance, which means that Morello would have to be home every night at a certain time and subjectto be called at any hour of the night by the police who would see whether he was behaving himself. Also, Morello would be compelled to make reports of his whereabouts and conduct and what work he was at to Vella whenever the chief should require it.
In return for the stand Vella had taken Morello swore publicly that he would be avenged on Vella for this punishment.
Vella also knew of the extensive criminal operations of Streva and that Morello was Streva's trusted lieutenant. Vella knew that Streva had a great deal of influence with judges and other public officials and even boasted that certain senators in Rome would do his bidding. Through this influence Streva managed to get out of prison a number of thieves, murderers and blackguards who in turn would go to any extremes for Streva. By crooked politics and sometimes by fear Streva exerted a baneful influence over the community the same as his uncle had done before him, the uncle who had handed down the wealth and political power that the younger man enjoyed. All these things were well known to Vella.
A further circumstance must be related here.During the latter part of 1889, a large number of cattle had been stolen in the neighborhood of Corleone and the country people were making many complaints. Vella had been working on the case, and succeeded in rounding up facts and evidence sufficient to strike a telling blow at the Streva-Morello team and the rest of the Mafia crowd. The chief was contemplating a raid on the gang. The Streva crowd, however, were tipped off that the arrest orders were about to be signed.
Beyond and behind all this there was a tense political situation. Vella's term of office was about to expire and election day was not far off. Streva and his crowd feared Vella, but they knew that they could not hope to beat the chief for re-election if they opposed him with one of their own crowd.
The "Black-Handers" looked the field over and hit upon Francesco Ortonello, who was a man of upright life and character respected by his townsmen for miles around. Ortonello's father had been mayor of Corleone. An uncle was the best-known priest in the southern extremity of Sicily. Ortonello, though, had never meddled with politics, nor with the Mafia or anyother organization. He was quite content to mind his own business and devote himself to his family. One day a committee of influential men called on Ortonello, and after persistent argument induced him to run for the office of Commander of the Sylvan Guards against Vella.
This induced Vella to suspect Ortonello for being in league with the Mafia and intent on spoiling all the good work done toward wiping out the plundering band of which Morello was a member.
Accordingly, with some liquor in him, Vella went to Ortonello's house and hurled the following at Ortonello, who did not understand the political conditions that prevailed at the time:
"So, Ortonello," said Vella in a rage, "you have dropped the mask. I never thought you were one of the Mafia's puppets. I thought you were an honest man, but evidently I fooled myself."
This onslaught in his own house brought Ortonello to his feet. He grabbed a gun and forced Vella to flee. Now, Ortonello's eyes were opened. He realized that he had been duped into accepting the candidacy against Vella. He realized that his clean record of citizenship wasto be used in order to beat Vella. He promptly went to the authorities and notified them to cancel his name.
The Mafia was thrown into panic. The bandits knew that Vella would win if Ortonello did not oppose him.
The very night following Ortonello's cancelling of his name for the office, Vella was murdered.
Previously on the evening that he was shot Vella had been making merry at the café "Stella d'Italia" with a number of public officials and was well "under the weather," as they say, when he started for home. He was seen to rest against a lamp-post. A neighbor offered him assistance to his door but Vella refused.
As soon as the shooting took place there was a commotion. Vella's wife, feeling that some such fate would befall her husband, rushed out terror-stricken and fell prostrate across the dying chief. The carabineers arrived and with them a crowd of people. Vella was taken in a dying condition to his house, which became jammed with excited neighbors. Among those present was Morello. He had hidden his gun in a pile of rubbish at the river's edge and hurriedinto Vella's house to look for developments. The hiding of the gun by Morello was testified to at the trial of Ortonello by a man named Antonio Caronia, who, by the way, was not murdered. He was a good shot himself, and had the reputation of being able to mix it up with any of the Morello crowd without much fear of the results.
The commander of the carabineers was a dear friend of Vella's and had been dining with the chief but a few minutes before the shooting. The commander asked Vella who shot him and the chief muttered:
"Cows, cows,—the Mafia." The chief also recited a long list of names of the men he had been camping after in his efforts to rid the community of the Mafia band. At this the commander of the carabineers interrupted the dying chief, and told him he was naming too many men, and that so many could not have done the shooting. The result, the commander told the chief, would be that no one would suffer for the offense. The commander then asked Vella whether he had any quarrels recently and the chief answered:
"Yes, I quarrelled with Ortonello yesterday. He wanted to take my job away—take the breadand butter from my wife and children—and he threatened me with a gun."
The commander of the carabineers immediately directed his men to go and get Ortonello and bring him to the house of the dying chief.
When Morello heard this order he smiled and departed for his home. It was upon returning there that the conversation took place which Zangara declared he had overheard between the "Black-Hander" and his mother.
When the carabineers arrived with Ortonello in their custody, Vella was in his last breaths. When asked by the commander of the carabineers if Ortonello was the man with whom he had quarrelled on the previous day, Vella nodded his head and fell back dead.
Another arrest followed that of Ortonello. It was that of Francesco Orlando, who was also a candidate against Vella. Orlando was tried and sentenced to a term of fifteen years, which he served and is now out. Needless to say that Orlando's sympathies and activities are not directed toward any movement favorable to the Morello crowd.
The trial of Ortonello shows the methods of the Mafia—methods that the Lupo-Morello gangwould transplant to this country in the conduct of the trials of our courts of their criminal brethren if it could be done by them. Morello's powerful friends brought it about so that the two attorneys for Ortonello deserted him at the moment the case was to go to trial so that the unfortunate Ortonello was forced to take a young lawyer who knew little of the details of the case and who was not sufficiently versed in the practice of courts.
But worse still, the two attorneys that deserted Ortonello on the eve of his trial had all along advised him that his innocence was so evident that no jury would ever convict him. It was not, therefore, the attorneys told Ortonello, necessary to go to any great pains to prove his innocence. The value of this advice to the Mafia crowd may be brought out more strongly when I tell you that both of these attorneys were betraying Ortonello and keeping Morello's friend Streva, the powerful young leader of the Mafia, informed of every move of Ortonello. They advised Ortonello not to bring out any evidence that would be injurious to Streva or Morello. It would not be necessary to do this to prove his innocence, the two attorneys told Ortonello.
In vain Antonio Caronia testified in Ortonello's behalf that he had seen Morello hide the gun in the pile of rubbish at the river's edge shortly after the shooting took place. To offset this testimony of Caronia's, the Morello crowd worked upon the police and had the gun spirited away. Later on, it may be added here, the police official who was responsible for the hiding of this gun at the time of Ortonello's trial, was dismissed from the service for his conduct.
In vain did Ortonello's attorney bring out evidence that the bullet extracted from Vella's body was much larger than the caliber of the gun found in Ortonello's home. Testimony was admitted at the trial to offset this. A Mafia henchman was produced who declared that the bullet had been made larger because of hitting a bone in Vella's body and thus flattening the missile.
In vain was it shown that a grocery wagon had been placed in front of Ortonello's door more than an hour before the shooting and that this wagon had to be removed before the carabineers could get admittance to Ortonello's house when they went after him to bring him to the house of the dying chief. In vain was it brought out at the trial that Ortonello was in bed when thecarabineers entered his room to take him into custody. In vain was it shown that he could not have got into the house or out of it while a grocery wagon was backed up to his door an hour previous to the time of the shooting and was still there when the carabineers arrived to arrest him. In vain was it shown that this grocery wagon had been drawn up in front of Ortonello's door by the groceryman next door who had come from Palermo that night with a large amount of groceries, and when the mail stage was to pass, and because the street was narrow, the groceryman backed the wagon up to the door and left it there until he could unload his goods.
In vain did the groceryman testify that he was unloading his wagon when the shot was fired, that he did not leave his wagon from then until the carabineers arrived, and that Ortonello had not entered the house nor come from it during that period. In vain was testimony given that the grocery wagon, being backed up to the door, prevented Ortonello from either coming out of the house or entering it.
In order to contradict the testimony of the grocer and three others who corroborated him concerning the wagon, friends of Vella went toa prostitute who lived in the rear of Ortonello's house and paid her money to testify that she had seen Ortonello after the shooting climb a rope and enter the rear window of this house. The window was forty feet from the ground. This woman is now dead, but before her demise she told the truth and declared that she had perjured herself for the money given her by the commander of the carabineers. This man was very bitter against Ortonello because he believed at the time that Ortonello had murdered his friend Vella.
To no avail was the testimony of an expert shoe-maker who showed the court that the footprints examined in the spot where Morello was seen hiding by the Di Puma woman, just prior to the shooting, were not the footprints of Ortonello nor of Orlando.
As further proof of the unfair trial suffered by Ortonello let me relate that the commander of the carabineers was so convinced of Ortonello's guilt, and so determined to prove a strong case against the unfortunate Ortonello that the commander went to the house of Biaggia Milone and frightened her by threats into testifying that she had seen Ortonello and Orlando do the shooting,that she had seen this from the window of her home, and that she had seen the two surveying the ground on the previous Sunday. This is the Milone woman whose cousin operated the grocery store in East Ninety-seventh Street, which was the headquarters distributing plant for the Lupo-Morello counterfeit money.
For four years Ortonello remained in prison at Palermo, where the case should properly have been tried; but the Mafia crowd became frightened at the public sentiment that was being aroused in behalf of Ortonello and feared that if he were tried at Palermo, where he was so well known, and where the truth was slowly leaking out, he would be set free. Through the influence of Streva the case was transferred to Messina, at the other extremity of Sicily, where Ortonello was tried and convicted. He was sentenced to serve life imprisonment. Five of the jurors believed him innocent.
Perhaps the reader is curious to know what became of Paolino Streva, the young and powerful leader of the Mafia of that time, the protector and patron of Morello. His fate will probably serve as a warning and please the reader. He is missing from the vicinity of Corleone for sometime past. He quarrelled with Bernardo Verro, the very popular leader of the Socialist party in Corleone, and caused Verro to be shot. The shooting was inaccurate, though, and Verro recovered. Then the friends of Verro thought they would do a little shooting of their own, and they attempted to hit Streva on three different occasions, but were unsuccessful. Then Verro's friends went after Streva still more effectively. They burned down his house and barns and destroyed his farm lands. Streva suddenly disappeared and his whereabouts are not known.
As for Morello, he is safely lodged in the Atlanta Federal Prison on a sentence of twenty-five years for counterfeiting. He is, however, no longer in danger of being prosecuted for the murder of Vella because the Italian Code provides that a man cannot be tried for a crime when twenty years have expired after the committing of the felony.
As for Ortonello and his family I can state that his wife and children are now in New York and prospering. The old man himself, I am happy to state, is free through friendly influences I have succeeded in bringing to bear on his case. He has taken a new grip on life since the day ofhis release, even though he is broken in body and weighted with years, showing plainly the terrible suffering of his twenty-three years of unmerited prison life. His spirit is revived and his mind is clear. He prays for me and mine.
"Have no fear—I am not asleep—and I have not slept ever since that time!"
These ominous words were underscored in a letter written by Morello, the arch-bandit, to a friend in Palermo who had warned the chief to be on his guard against betrayal in his extensive criminal operations. The words "that time" undoubtedly refer back to the Corleone murders that made the chief change his habitat from the mountain haunts of the Mafia to the by-ways of New York.
I have quoted Morello because in that ominous sentence he has spoken the watchword of the "Black-Handers" in New York City. The criminal element among the Italians here is not sleeping. At the time he penned these words Morello had advanced to the leadership of theworst and most elusive band of criminals that ever slipped past the scrutiny of the Ellis Island officials.
In contrast to the criminal element, the honest Italians of New York City, and other large centers of population in this country, are certainly sleeping. It is a restless, fearful sleep in which they are indulging. A sleep from which they will be aroused sometimes by a bomb at their door, or by the stealing of the smallest child in their household, or by a knife-thrust in the dark. The Italian, the honest Italian, the good citizen, knows that what I say is true.
But why does the honest Italian go back and sleep again when he knows that the same danger is imminent still?
The honest Italian is drugged with fear.
He fears to open his mouth and tell the police and the government officials about the threats that have been sent to him by letter or by those whom he knows are among the criminal element. His mouth is closed with the drug of fear. He goes back to sleep in silence not realizing that by so doing he invites another crime upon his household.
The antidote for the drug of fear is courage.
Perhaps courage is not the correct word; I mean rather disregard of threats. If the honest Italians in this country would disregard the threats of the very small number of criminals among them, the "Black-Hand" nuisance would be wiped out before the sun returned to the meridian many times. If the honest Italian would help the police authorities by telling the facts when threatened there would be a swift ending of the "Black-Hand" gang.
The reason for the fear in the mind of the honest, and even the most intelligent, Italians is born of the thought that such leaders as Morello and Lupo, were more than human in their craftiness, and had dark and mysterious ways of avoiding the best detectives in this country, and that they could even commit murder and laugh in the teeth of the police. The answer to such a thought is the sentences imposed on Morello, Lupo and the other members of the gang now confined in the federal prison. If there are other leaders of less magnitude than these two, and who have caused any Italian fear through threat or otherwise, I invite such honest Italian to tell me what he knows. There are cells unoccupied in many prisons.
In conclusion I ask the honest Italian to disregard the idea that the criminals of his race are infallible and may not be reached by the law. It is to honest Italians particularly that I send out this book. I repeat the words of Giuseppe Morello:
"Have No Fear, I Am Not Asleep, and Have Not Slept Ever Since That Time."
THE END