Possibly history's most bizarre murder scheme.

You probably have never heard of Michael Malloy.  After all, he never did amount to much in life. He was a sixty year old unemployed fireman in the borough of the Bronx in New York City.  Malloy originated from Ireland, but that really has little to do with this story.  In fact, all you really need to know about this guy was that he was an alcoholic - a man who would do anything for a drink. 

In fact, it was Malloy's drinking problem that got him into trouble. He became the victim of one of the most unusual murders in American history. 

So let's set our watches and clocks back to January of 1933 and make a visit to a speakeasy operated by a guy named Anthony “Tony” Marino.  Should you ever be in the neighborhood, be sure to make a visit to its former location - 3804 Third Avenue.   By anyone’s standards, this place was a dump.  Dingy, dirty, and raw would be the best way to describe the establishment.

A speakeasy war was taking place at this time and Marino was in need of some quick cash.  Along with a customer named Francis Pasqua, an undertaker who spent most of his time embalming himself with alcohol, they came up with the perfect quick cash solution.  They decided to take a life insurance policy out on someone and then bump the poor guy off. 

Perched at a broken down poker table in the rear of the speakeasy, the two men peered out into the main room.  Their eyes quickly focused on a guy named Michael Malloy.  Malloy was the perfect choice because he was a drunk with few known relatives or close friends.  No one would ever miss him. 

The plan was set into action.  Under the pseudonym “Nicholas Mallory”, the first policy was taken out on Malloy for $800 from Metropolitan Life.  Two additional policies of $494 each were taken from Prudential Life.  The policies had a double indemnity clause - if Malloy just happened to have an accidental death, then double the value would be paid. 

Now all they had to do was bump Malloy off.  They assumed that this would be an easy task.  A few too many drinks and he would be a goner.

They figured wrong. 

Their first move was to relax all credit restrictions against Malloy.  He could drink all that he wanted.  So, for the first week he drank like a fish from the time he wandered in until he staggered off at night.  Each day the "Murder Trust", as they would soon be known as in the tabloids, would wait for news of Malloy's death. 
Instead, Malloy would wander back into the bar each day to get more drinks. 

The Murder Trust knew they had a problem. They had invested a lot of money into the insurance policies and the alcohol, yet Malloy seemed no closer to death. 
So they decided to spike Malloy's drinks. 

The speakeasy’s bartender, Joseph “Red” Murphy, just happened to be an unemployed chemist.  He was skilled at adding small amounts of chloral hydrate to drinks to knock out unwanted customers.  For a $100 cut in the action, Murphy agreed to help bring an end to Malloy’s existence.   The only problem was that Murphy was out of chloral hydrate.  Instead, he substituted antifreeze from his 1927 Model-T Ford as the poison of choice.  Night after night he added the antifreeze (poisonous wood alcohol at that time), but this had no effect on Malloy.  Day after day he was back - refreshed and wanting more to drink. 

The group then tried adding turpentine, horse liniment, and even rat poison at various times to Malloy's drinks.  Any of these ingredients would do the ordinary man in, but Malloy was a hardened alcoholic and he could somehow tolerate these poisons. 

Through his alcoholic daze, Pasqua recalled that he had heard about a man that had died from consuming either raw oysters or clams that had been soaked in whisky (it seems to me that many people do this each day with no problem).  They decided to go one better – they saturated an equal amount of oysters and clams in the deadly antifreeze broth.  Malloy downed piles of this delectable meal.  To their surprise, Malloy was back the next day hungry for more. 

The Murder Trust then came up with what they felt was surefire killer. They opened a can of sardines and allowed it to spoil for about one week.  Once it took on a really bad stench, they prepared a delectable sardine sandwich.  Of course, no sandwich is complete without minerals, so Marino ground up the tin can and added it the fine shavings in.  As an added measure, they added some chopped up pins to this concoction. 

I'm sure you can guess what happened next.  Malloy downed the sandwich, licked his fingers, and left.  Did he die? Of course not.  He wandered in the next day looking for more. 

Most people would give up at this point, but not the members of the Murder Trust. 

Enter the fourth member of the Murder Trust.  Hershey “Harry” Green was a Bronx taxicab driver and a frequent customer to the speakeasy.  Once again, Malloy was filled with alcohol until he passed out. At this point, they loaded Malloy into Green’s taxicab and took him to a deserted area of Claremont Park. They carried Malloy’s limp body out of the cab and laid him down behind a row of shrubbery.  They opened up his shirt to the raw elements and poured water all over his exposed flesh.  A good bath never hurt any drunk, but it just happened to be 14 degrees below zero Fahrenheit that night.  They were positive that Malloy would freeze to death. 

Not the indestructible Michael Malloy. He somehow survived and wandered into the bar the next day complaining of a slight chill. 

They decided it was time to get an expert. For another $100 cut, they hired a hitman named Anthony "Tough Tony" Bastone to do the job. 

Tough Tony decided that they should just murder Malloy out-and-out. He had a plan that would make it look like an accident, meaning double the insurance money. 

The scheme was to run Malloy down with Green’s taxi.  Just like clockwork, they got Malloy drunk and threw him into the taxi, drove to a deserted intersection, and carried him out of the vehicle.  Green then accelerated his taxi up to 45 miles per hour and raced down the street.  As the cab approached, Malloy somehow managed to stumble to safety at the last moment.  (This guy really did have the luck of the Irish!)
Once again, they placed Malloy back in the vehicle and drove to a more remote area.  This time they carried out their plan and Malloy was crushed to death by the force of the car. 

At least the Murder Trust thought that he was dead.  They saw his body crushed.  There was no way that they could have messed up this time.  Or could they have?

The Murder Trust members checked the obituaries daily searching for Malloy's name.  They then scanned the papers for stories about a hit-and-run in the Bronx.  No luck. 

Well, if he wasn't dead, then Malloy had to be in a hospital. They knew that they had hurt him badly.   Red Murphy was then sent on the mission of checking all of the hospitals and morgues for his dear “missing brother”.  Once again, no luck.

Clearly, Malloy was dead. Yet, without a death certificate or obituary notice, the Trust could not claim the insurance money. 

So they decided to bump off another guy named Joseph Patrick Murray.  Murray certainly fit their bill – he was someone they felt nobody would miss.  The Trust got Murray drunk and tried the old run-him-over-in-the-taxicab routine.  They ran Murray over and were about to turn around and do it again for good measure, but they were frightened away by the lights of a passing motorist.
  
The real trick was how they were going to pass Murray off as the fictitious Nicholas Mallory.  Pasqua placed letters addressed to Mallory into Murray's pocket.  In addition, there was a card indicating that Pasqua be called in case of an accident - in which case he would identify the body as being of one Malloy … I mean Mallory. 
  
As you can imagine, this plan also backfired. Murray somehow survived and spent fifty-five days recovering in Lincoln Hospital. 
  
To make matters even worse, about three weeks after the initial "accident", Michael Malloy came wandering into the speakeasy.  He had somehow survived. 
His "friends" showed great concern for his health. (Yeah, right.)  When they questioned where he had been, Malloy said that an automobile had hit him. (Do you think they were shocked by his answer?). He had suffered a concussion of the brain, fractured skull, and a fractured shoulder.  He had spent the time at Fordham hospital, but due to some sort of clerical error, they had failed to register him as a patient. 
  
The Murder Trust was really thrown into turmoil. Tough Tony made it clear what had to be done - they had to kill Malloy ASAP. No more trying to be clever - they had to bump him off and get the insurance money. 
Bastone challenged Malloy to a drinking bout.  Like usual, poor Malloy was given more of the dreaded wood alcohol eventually fell into a state of unconsciousness. 
  
Daniel Kreisberg, the sixth and final member of the Trust, was now brought in on the scheme for fifty bucks.  (A measly amount for taking someone’s life.)  Kreisberg and Murphy carried Malloy up to a rented room at 1210 Fulton Avenue.  Red Murphy then proceeded to hook a rubber hose up to a wall gas jet and place the other end in Malloy's mouth.  But, the hose did not reach and they had to pull Malloy off the bed and drag him closer to the hose.  Kreisberg turned the gas on, claiming during the trial that he "could hear the sizzling sound" of the escaping vapors. 
  
They had finally succeeded in doing what they had set out to do so many weeks before - they killed Malloy on February 22, 1933. 
  
Getting rid of Malloy's body was simple. If you remember from earlier in the story, Pasqua was an undertaker.  He took care of everything from this point on.  An ex-alderman named Dr. Frank Manzella was called in to write a phony death certificate declaring that Malloy had died from lobar pneumonia with alcohol as a contributing factor.   Pasqua placed Malloy in cheap ten dollar coffin and buried him in a charity grave in the Ferncliffe Cemetery in Westchester County.  Of course, he wrote out a bill for $400 worth of services. 
   
Clearly, this is not the end of the story.  It seems that these guys started to argue over how the loot was to be split.  Taxicab driver Green demanded additional reimbursement for the damage to his cab and sought out the opinion of complete strangers.  Tough Tony and Kreisberg openly talked to others about their part in the murder.
  
As with all stories that involve criminals with loose lips, the story eventually found its way to the police.  After two weeks of investigation the arrests were made. 
During the process of probing into this scheme, the police learned of the death of a hairdresser named Mabelle Carlson nearly a year before. Carlson died on March 17, 1932. The coroner ruled that it was death due to terminal broncho-pneumonia complicated by acute and chronic alcoholism.  It was later learned that Marino had gotten Carlson drunk until she passed out.  He took her up to his room and laid her down on the bed and stripped her naked.  Marino then poured water all over her body and opened the windows on a cold night.  Unlike the resilient Malloy, she froze to death.  Marino just happened to be the beneficiary of her $800 life insurance policy.  (Does this story sound shockingly similar to another one that you recently learned about?!? )
  
All of the details of this story came out at the trial of the killers.  In addition to all that has been described above, two other interesting details were brought to light.  First, it seems that Malloy had suffered an incredible blow to the head up.  If he had survived the gas poisoning, he would have been blind in his left eye.  Second, it was revealed that the Murder Trust had arranged for Malloy to be shot with a machine gun, but, in the typical Malloy fashion, he somehow eluded the trap that the gang had set up.
  
In the end the sentences were handed down.  Harry Green, the taxi driver, turned state’s evidence and went to jail on a lesser charge.  Dr. Frank Manzella served prison time for being an accessory after the fact.  Frank Pasqua, Anthony Marino, and Daniel Kreisberg got zapped in the electric chair at Sing Sing Prison on June 7, 1934.  Joseph Murphy (Murphy, Marino, Malloy, Mallory, Murray - there are a lot of M's in this story) also went to the chair on July 5, 1934. 
  
So what happened to Tough Tony Bastone?  Apparently, there was a bit of a squabble over the division of the insurance money and he was shot dead about a month after Michael Malloy's death in the same speakeasy.  Of course, all of the defendants claimed at trial that the Bastone was the one that coerced them into killing Malloy.  (It’s very easy to blame the guy that can’t be there to defend himself.)
  
And the insurance money? The trust had collected the $800 from Metropolitan Life Insurance Company.  However, they held off putting in the claims for the two Prudential policies.  It seems that the main beneficiary Murphy was in jail as a material witness to Tough Tony’s murder and his partners in crime did not want to bring attention to their scheme. 
  
Sounds like the script for a good Hollywood comedy. On the other hand, nobody would ever believe it...

Webmaster :