Death in the Primrose Hotel – Chapter 8 cont’d…..

“Two weeks later Pannunzio himself received two blasts fired at point plank range from two double barreled sawed off Lupa shotguns. One blast obliterated Pannunzio’s face and half his head, the other shot put a big, raw opening in the center of his chest. Speculation was that two members of the mob who didn’t like the idea of Pannunzio’s pretension to being boss executed him. No witnesses could be found.
“A week later the shooters of Pannunzio were themselves killed in a speakeasy on the eastern edge of the Italian neighborhood. The bartender, who received minor wounds from flying glass, described the shooter as a tall, solidly built man, maybe six feet six inches who was no stranger to hard, physical work. His dark curly hair combed straight back and on his upper lip he had an old fashioned handlebar mustache, the ends waxed into tight curled points. He was also surrounded by the heavy aroma of garlic. That description ‘fit half the men in the neighborhood.’ the bartender said. The killer was never caught,” I finished reading the article.
“With Prohibition soon likely to be the law of the land the Primrose Hotel owners must have planned on building a speakeasy in the sub-basement and install the hidden elevator,” I said.
“How did they build the secret elevator and the sub-basement without either being on any plans or specifications?” Lyons asked. “And how come none of the inspectors ever came across it while they were on site? They certainly would’ve never allowed a sub-basement with only one small hidden elevator as the only means of egress.”
“You forget the brick tunnel. Somebody must have gotten bribed and bribed well,” I said.
“A lot of somebodies must have gotten bribed well to keep this speakeasy secret,” Lyons said.
“It makes you think,” I started, “that with all this bribe money floating around that nobody blabbed. Why didn’t somebody say something after Prohibition ended or after all these years?” Lyon’s answer, a simple shrug.
“I wonder if there was any mob money involved with the Primrose Hotel?” I said.
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Lyons said.
“I thought Vanessa and I would do interviews first then the library searches then, if necessary, reinterview or we’ll just play it by ear,” I said.
“That would probably be a big help but how else are you going to solve this mystery? There are no clues to investigate. It’s all going to be picking the old timer’s brains, what’s left of them,” Lyons said.
“Damned if I know.”
“You don’t know much, do ya?” Lyons said.
“I know it’s time to call it a day,” I said We closed up the office.


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