by Mike Dash
One night I noticed a particularly tough lot of customers around the place. Presently old Jem Mace slithered across to me and said: “Don’t look round, Datas, but I want to give you the tip. Have you got that dough on you still?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Why? What’s the trouble?”
“Keep your eyes peeled,” said Jem; “there are some of the boys about, and I’ve heard something. If I were you I’d slope as quickly as you can. It don’t look healthy to me.” I was a young, and by this time fairly strong, fellow. Alas, I was rather intrigued. “What do you know?” I asked, and then he told me all about it.
“You see those two sallow-faced fellows—one of ’em is ‘Gyp the Blood’ and the other is ‘Leftie Louie.’ They are two of the hottest things with guns you have ever seen. The other buck over there is ‘Dago Frank,’ and the one behind him is ‘Whitey Lewis’ and they can all handle a gun like it was their own hand. They may not start any trouble to-night because Becker is here.” Becker, I learned afterwards was Lieutenant Becker of the police. But Jem went on to say that he had heard the gangster saying that they were going to “bump me off” and also that I had been insured for $20,000, and it might be as well if my body could be found floating in New York Harbour.
“They’re after your $2,000,” he assured me quite solemnly, “and they won’t stick at nothing, so if I were you I’d get.” As a matter of fact, I had booked my berth on board the Teutonic, which was to sail three days later, having finished my engagement, and although I felt that there was something wrong about the information, I decided that I would go aboard the next day. In the meantime I regarded the men who had been pointed out to me with more interest. I did not make my observation too conspicuous, but I could not help noticing that there seemed to be quite a friendly atmosphere between Becker of the police and the gangsters. Had I but known it, they were all to perish in the electric chair for one of the foulest murders ever committed—the shooting down of Herman Rosenthal, a gambling-saloon keeper who accused Becker of corruption and graft. Becker was the instigator of the murder, and the rest, together with some others, were all parties to it in return for the blind eye of Becker and his minions on their own activities.
I did not know this, however. And I was rapidly becoming lulled into a sense of security when an incident happened which caused me to change my mind. I had ordered a bottle of ginger beer and it had just been set down on my table when suddenly—Bang, and off went the top of it. Gyp the Blood had simply pulled a gun and shot it from a distance of about seven yards. It was a wonderful shot, and everyone started up in alarm, but I guess there was nobody more alarmed than I was. But I take credit that I did not show it. Instead I laughed, and just poured out my drink and took a good draught.
A few moments later Jem slid over to me again. “Cut it, son,” he whispered. “Get out right now. That was done to try and rattle you into making a fight, and if you had they would have said you started a rough house and got shot in the scrap which followed.”
This time I decided that it might be discreetly valiant to make a dignified departure. I did not hurry, but took the opportunity when nobody was looking to slip out, and away. I did not go back to my hotel, but made straight for the docks. I went aboard the Teutonic, where I explained to the captain what had happened. I learned afterwards that the moment I was missed from the saloon, “Leftie Louie” had made off to intercept me on my way to the hotel. So it is just as well that I did not go there. (Datas, The Memory Man, By Himself [London: Wright Brown, n.d. (1932)], pp. 22–29.)
This is a wildly improbable tale—even the prosecution at Becker’s murder trial advanced no evidence that he had ever met the gunmen; Gyp’s dangerous but barely remarked-on gunplay in a crowded saloon scarcely rings true; and the difficulties New York gangsters would experience in insuring and collecting on the suspicious death of a British citizen would surely be legion—but the use Datas makes of the case is, if nothing else, indicative of the grip that Becker’s story exerted on the public as late as the 1930s, when his book was published. There is no reason to doubt that the performer was in New York around the date stated, though, nor that he knew a good deal about Becker. According to Jay, “Datas had a peculiar penchant for morbid trivia and his passions, both private and public, were murders, hangings and disasters. When he traveled to a new town on his music hall tours, he would start each day at the police station to learn of crimes and accidents, and then spend a few hours at churches, museums, etc., which was all he needed to make his act topical.”
CHARLES WHITMAN Biographical details from Dictionary of American Biography supplement 4 (1946–50), pp. 884–85; Logan, pp. 31–32, 47–49.
FIRST ATTEMPTED MURDER New York Journal, July 17, and Sun and New York Times, Aug. 1, 1912; Kahn, op. cit., p. 146; Klein, pp. 118–19, points out that the four gunmen, when tried, denied that this incident had ever taken place.
ROSENTHAL’S AFFIDAVIT New York World, July 13, 1912.
SWOPE AND WHITMAN New York Sun, July 15, 1912; Kahn, op. cit., pp. 146–47;
Logan, pp. 48–49; Lewis, op. cit., p. 29.
ROSENTHAL’S SECOND ENCOUNTER WITH ROTHSTEIN New York American, July 16, 1912; Katcher, op. cit., pp. 83–84.
“ALL QUITTERS” New York Tribune, July 13, 1912.
WHITMAN’S STATEMENT OF JULY 15 This statement appeared in the first editions of most New York papers of July 16, 1912. For reasons that will soon be clear, it was no longer news by the time later editions were printed.
“IT WAS IN THE AIR…” Chafetz, op. cit., p. 403.
“YOU’LL FIND ME DEAD…” Meyer Berger, The Eight Million: Journal of a New York Correspondent, p. 139.
“YOU MAY LAUGH…” Logan, p. 52.
“BETTER MEN THAN I AM…” New York Journal, July 16, 1912.
MEETING AT SEVEN New York American, July 17, 1912. Whitman would later allege that Rosenthal was due to appear before a grand jury on the morning he was murdered; this appears to be a post hoc statement designed to avert questions regarding his own hostility to the gambler before his death. Whitman to Waldo, July 18, 1912, in New York World, July 19, 1912.
7. “GOOD-BYE, HERMAN”
THE METROPOLE HOTEL This was the hotel immortalized in Cole Porter’s song “Ace in the Hole.” James Morton, Gangland: The Early Years, p. 114.
ROSENTHAL AT THE METROPOLE New York American, Sun, World, and Journal, July 17, 1912; Logan, pp. 5–15. Newspaper accounts differ considerably in the small details of events at the hotel. Only a few of the discrepancies are material, however. They will be discussed later.
ROSENTHAL’S INTENTIONS Klein, pp. 419, 425, 427. According to a statement Rosenthal gave to the World—which was not published until the day after the murder—“There is only one man in the world who can call me off, that is the big fellow, Big Tim Sullivan, and he is as honest as the day is long and I know he is in sympathy with me. He don’t want to see anybody hurt. My fight is with the police. It is purely personal with me. I am making no crusade and my friends know all about it. I am not going to hurt anyone else, and if I can’t go through with this without bringing anyone else in, I’ll quit.” New York World, July 17, 1912.
THE CONSIDINES May Sharpe, Chicago May, p. 47; Leo Katcher, The Big Bankroll, pp. 25, 109; David Pietrusza, Rothstein, p. 93.
ROSENTHAL’S COMPANIONS The identity of Rosenthal’s companions is uncertain. The American of July 17, 1912, identifies them as gamblers by the names of “Big Judge” Crowley, Sandy Clemons, and “MacMahon.” Logan, p. 7, says the three were “Fat Moe” Brown, “Butch” Kitte, and “Boob” Walker, the last named of whom was a hoodlum who often worked as an enforcer for Bridgey Webber. Webber, in a statement to Deputy Police Commissioner Dougherty, said there were actually four men at Herman’s table and named them as “Boob Walker, Hickey, Butch and Moe Brown.” Klein, p. 19.
MURDER SCENE New York Times and World, July 17, 1912; Klein, p. 130; Logan, pp. 13–14.
TAXI STAND CLEARED New York World, July 2
2 and 28, 1912. At Becker’s trial that October, the prosecution would imply that one of the mysterious men employed in clearing the line was none other than Charles Becker. This was plainly not the case; several people could give the lieutenant an alibi for about this time. Klein, p. 184.
ROSENTHAL’S MURDER AND AFTERMATH An interview with the New York coroner regarding Rosenthal’s autopsy, in the New York American, July 18, contradicts numerous earlier reports that the gambler had been shot five times, which have been accepted by earlier writers on the case. Several of the dead man’s wounds had in fact been caused by fragments of the two bullets that did hit him. For the details of the murder itself and its aftermath, see New York Times and World, July 16 and 17; Evening Post and Sun, July 16; Journal, July 17, 1912; Klein, pp. 7–8, 315; Logan, pp. 14, 16, 20; Jonathan Root, The Life and Bad Times of Charlie Becker, p. 15.
ALEXANDER WOOLLCOTT Alexander Woollcott, While Rome Burns, p. 212.
WEBBER LEAVES THE SCENE Klein, p. 28–30.
POLICE RESPONSE New York World, July 16; American, July 17; Journal, July 20, 1912.
NUMBER PLATES New York Sun, July 16 and 17; World, July 17; American, July 18, 1912.
MURDERERS’ DESCRIPTION AND THE POLICE BLOTTER The Sixteenth Precinct blotters were kept in the station house basement at West Forty-seventh Street for years; they were mined by Meyer Berger for an article published in his The Eight Million, pp. 138–39.
CHARLES GALLAGHER New York World, July 17; American, July 18, 1912.
WORD OF THE MURDER SPREADS New York Times, World, Sun, American, and Tribune July 17, 1912; Allan Lewis, Man of the World, p. 30; E. J. Kahn, The World of Swope, p. 148; Berger, op. cit.; Klein, pp. 14–17; Logan, pp. 22–24, 28–33.
LIFTS HOME Becker had the use of the car loaned to him by Colonel Sternberger of the Twenty-two second Regiment. His companions were Deacon Terry, the American reporter, and Jacob Reich ( Jack Sullivan), the newspaper distributors of whom more below. New York American and Sun, July 18, 1912.
MRS. ROSENTHAL New York American, July 16 and 17, 1912. According to the American, Mrs. Rosenthal alleged that her husband had gone to the Metropole to keep an appointment with Charles Becker. This allegation did not appear elsewhere and was never picked up by the district attorney or used in Becker’s trials. It was almost certainly a fabrication. But, if true, the allegation would be a vital piece of evidence in favor of the lieutenant’s guilt.
HAWLEY AND BECKER Klein, p. 180, 242.
ARREST OF LIBBY New York American, July 18, 1912. The Post of July 16 suggests that Libby was arrested as he was leaving the garage.
BECKER, THE BODY, AND WHITMAN’S STATEMENT New York World, July 17, 1912; Logan, pp. 36–38.
EVENTS OF JULY 16 New York Post and Sun, July 16; New York World, American, Journal, and Times, July 17 and 18, 1912. “I WAS CERTAINLY SURPRISED…” New York American, July 18, 1912.
WHO DROVE THE CAR Libby and Shapiro, it transpired, worked alternate shifts as drivers of the taxi. Libby took the daylight hours and Shapiro the night. Libby, rather than Shapiro, had returned the car to the garage after the shooting simply because Shapiro was so apprehensive about his role in the murder that he drove directly to Stuyvesant Square to tell his partner what had happened. He then begged Libby to return the vehicle to the garage for him. Ibid.
ONLY GIVE A STATEMENT TO THE DA No doubt the two chauffeurs also wanted to make sure they were not seen to be betraying Rosenthal’s murderers. “We don’t want to queer anybody else,” Shapiro emphasized in a statement given to the New York American ( July 17, 1912). “We’ll get out of this trouble all right. Nobody has squealed.”
“MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD…” New York World editorial, July 17, 1912.
“I ACCUSE…” New York Journal and World, July 17, 1912.
8. RED QUEEN
ROSENTHAL’S FUNERAL New York World, July 19, 1912; Horace Green, The Log of a Noncombatant, p. 49; Viña Delmar, The Becker Scandal, pp. 64–65.
NUMBER PLATE NOT CONCEALED According to the World of July 18, 1912, the plate had indeed been pushed partly behind the Packard’s rear lamp, partly obscuring the number. The fact that two witnesses did correctly identify its number shows that this attempt at concealment—if it was made at all—was ineffective.
“NEVER IN THEIR HISTORY…” Logan, pp. 121–22, who gives these statistics, adds that “someone once calculated that the World devoted more space to the testimony of one witness [Jack Rose] at Becker’s first trial…than it had to the sinking of the Titanic the previous April.”
“A CHALLENGE TO OUR VERY CIVILIZATION” Ibid.
EDITORIALS AND CARTOONS New York World, July 17, and American, July 19, 1912. SWOPE’S STORY E. J. Kahn, The World of Swope, p. 144. Although never acknowledged, the reporter’s motives in becoming so involved in the Rosenthal affair may have included a desire to avenge one of Becker’s raids, conducted on a club on West Forty-fifth Street operated by Arnold Rothstein and frequented by Swope. See Allen Steinberg, “The Becker Case and American Progressivism,” in Amy Gilman Srebnick and René Lévy (eds.), Crime and Culture, p. 76.
WHITMAN’S AMBITION “The consequences of the Becker case were legion,” the legal historian Allen Steinberg observes. “It made Charles Whitman the oftcopied model of what an ambitious prosecutor in New York can achieve.” Steinberg, “The Becker-Rosenthal Murder Case: The Cop and the Gambler,” in Frankie Bailey and Steven Chermak (eds.), Famous American Crimes and Trials, p. 263. From this perspective, at least, the DA’s successors certainly include Rudolph Giuliani, a onetime U.S. Attorney and later New York mayor.
SCHIEFFELIN’S COMMITTEE Logan, pp. 93–94.
WALDO’S CONFERENCE Ibid., p. 77.
CONFLICTING TESTIMONY New York World, July 16, 18, and 21, American, Sun, Journal, and Herald, July 16, 1912; Logan, pp. 70, 93.
SHAPIRO’S CONFESSION New York Journal, July 17, Sun, July 18, World, July 18 and 20, and American, July 19, 1912; Klein, p. 18.
HARRY VALLON Shoenfeld story #126, Oct. 21, 1912, Magnes Papers P3/1782; Logan, pp. 94–95.
SAM SCHEPPS Born in Austria, a known gambler and a messenger for Rose, Schepps—reported Abe Shoenfeld—“traveled a great deal and smokes so heavily he is known as ‘the cigarette fiend.’” Shoenfeld story #125, Oct. 21, 1912, Magnes Papers P3/1782.
GAMBLERS CONVENE AT BATHS New York American, July 24 and 25, 1912.
WHITMAN AND WALDO New York World, July 18, and American, July 18 and 20, 1912.
WEBBER QUESTIONED New York World and Evening Post, July 17, 1912; Klein, pp. 18–19.
ROSE AT HEADQUARTERS New York Evening Post, July 18, and World, Tribune, and American, July 19, 1912; Klein, pp. 20–22; Logan, pp. 75–76.
ROSE AND BECKER IN DOUGHERTY’S OFFICE New York World, Aug. 4, 1912; Klein, pp. 52–55.
BECKER’S INTIMATIONS REGARDING ROSE Rose, too, had drawn some dangerous conclusions from his encounter with Becker at headquarters. According to the gambler’s own account, the lieutenant had sworn that no harm would come to any of the men who disposed of Rosenthal. The “awful look” that Becker had shot at him convinced Bald Jack that that guarantee was void and he was “to be jobbed and made to stand for the whole thing.” Whether or not there was any truth in this, Rose plainly saw that there was now little to be gained by staying silent. “I knew I would get a ‘square deal’ from Whitman,” he continued, “so I waited until things shaped up right and then told him.” Klein, p. 55.
“DO YOU WANT ME TO ARREST LIEUTENANT BECKER?” Logan, p. 92.
PAUL, VALLON AND SULLIVAN ARRESTED New York World, July 23, 1912; Klein, pp. 23–25.
“BROUGHT INTO COURT” This was a hearing before the New York coroner, Feinberg, who in this case acted as a magistrate. New York Herald, World, and Tribune, July 23, 24, and 25, 1912; Klein, pp. 28–32.
“I’LL BE OUT IN FIVE MINUTES” New York World, July 22, 1912.
“A SYMPHONY IN BROWN” New York World, July 23, 1912. Rose, the Sun had predicted as early as
July 18, would have a significant advantage over his fellow prisoners, possessing as he did the “gift of language.”
GAMBLERS QUESTIONED New York World, July 24 and 25, and American, July 25, 1912; Delmar, op. cit., p. 70.
SHAPIRO’S NEW CONFESSION New York World, July 26, 1912; Klein, pp. 26–27.
“EVERYBODY KNOWS” Logan, p. 77.
EXPOSURE OF THE COSTS OF BECKER’S HOME New York World, July 20 and 21, American, July 21, and Times, July 30, 1912. It is possible that these revelations were in some way connected to the mysterious ransacking of the offices of Becker’s lawyer shortly beforehand. Numerous documents relating to the lieutenant’s affairs went missing as a result of this burglary. American, July 21, 1912.
EXPOSURE OF BECKER’S GRAFTING New York World, Aug. 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, and 28, 1912.
BECKER’S CLAIMS REGARDING THE SOURCE OF HIS WEALTH New York Times, July 30, 1912.
SUMS RAISED FOR TAMMANY It would appear that under normal circumstances Tammany received 50 or 60 percent of the total extorted from the vice trade, the balance being retained by the police. Becker seems to have raised a total of at least $900,000 between October 1911 and the Rosenthal murder. Rose’s calculation was that the total was far higher—as much as $2.5 million. Klein, pp. 52–53.
SENATOR FITZGERALD Logan, p. 79.
WALDO’S BACKING New York World, July 20, 1912.
MAYOR GAYNOR’S VIEWS Lately Thomas, The Mayor Who Mastered New York, pp. 415, 421; Logan, p. 95.
“SWAGGERING…VERY LIGHTLY” New York American, July 20, 1912.
SIGNS OF TROUBLE AHEAD Ibid. and Sun, July 27, 1912; Logan, pp. 92–93. BECKER AND TIM SULLIVAN One of the revelations in Klein’s book was that Sullivan had summoned Becker to a meeting on the day before Rosenthal was murdered and promised the lieutenant that he would use his influence to keep the gambler quiet. In return, Becker agreed not to drag Tim’s name into the affair—a vow he kept long after the Boss’s death and through two trials for murder. In fact, Sullivan’s name was never mentioned by a single witness in either of the murder trials, a silent testimony to the influence even a failing Big Tim wielded at that time. Becker finally acknowledged his meeting with Sullivan in an affidavit made only a few days before his execution in July 1915. Klein, pp. 408–20 for Sullivan’s decline. Daniel Czitrom, “Underworlds and Underdogs: Big Tim Sullivan and Metropolitan Politics in New York, 1889–1913.” Journal of American History 78 (1991), pp. 556–58; Alvin Harlow, Old Bowery Days, pp. 519–20.
