Another Day's Massacre

A murder mystery with a mayhem backdrop

Chicago,Chicago that toddling town. That jazz standard plays in my head everytime I recall this case. It took place at Chicago's newest jazz joint, Snorky's. The day we were there was supposed to be the grand opening. However murder and mayhem would prevent that opening from happening. It is a bit poetic when you think about it. Snorky's is located at 2122 North Clark Street in Chicago. If that address sounds familiar it should. In 1929 at that very address, the St, Valentine's Day massacre took place. An event where gunsels working for Chicago's number one gangster at that time Al Capone, brutally executed 7 of his rivals. Mowing them down with Thompson submachine guns as they stood against the wall. Now there I was 80 plus years later at the same address, compelled to try and solve yet another massacre. One could argue, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Nikki and I were in Chicago because of clowns. I had been dying to see this play I heard about years ago titled Clowns Macbeth. The jest of it is circus clowns reinacting Shakespear's Macbeth. To me that sounded so intriguing and awesome that I had to see it. I was quite obsessive at one point trying to find any theatre in the country that would be putting on that show. Low and behold, it would be my lovely wife to the rescue. She found a little theatre off state street in Chicago's downtown area that would be doing a show. Fighting through her dislike of clowns, my raven hair beauty surprised me with the tickets on my birthday. In our planing to view Clowns Macbeth, we wanted to make a mini vacation of it. So the day after the play, we decided to do some sight seeing. I will admit, the sight of the St. Valentine's Day massacre was my idea. Despite it having the word "Valentine" in it not the most romatic place either, or so I thought. The original garage was torn down and paved over some time in the 1950s, so it totally caught us by surprised when we saw a building at that address. The fact that it was a jazz lounge, meant entry was a must for the two of us.

We barely got our foot in the door before we were stopped by the doorman. They were closed, and trying to get ready for the grand opening which was still a few hours away. Not wanting any trouble we were set to leave when a gentleman yelled "NICOLE MARX!!... Howard, don't be an a*s. Let them in. Do you know who this is?" This chunky fellow with a goatee was apparently a huge fan of my wife. He ran over quickly pushing the doorman out of the way. "Mrs. Marx, my name is Sal. I am the manager of Snorky's, but more so I am a HUGE fan of yours. Please come in." It was the first time I had ever witness someone get starstuck over my Nikki. It felt kind of weird I must say. Nikki let Sal ramble on a bit before she made my introduction. "Sal, this is my husband Keaton." I could tell he was disappointed to hear that, but he hide it like a pro. While we were all engaging in conversation, we heard many rounds of ammo being fired a few blocks away. Plus we couldn't help but notice the seemingly endless parade of police car that kept flying by. Sal just smiled and said "Welcome to Chicago."

The inside of Snorky's was modeled to appear like a 1920s speakeasy. There was a nice size stage for the house band and visiting acts. My focus switched over to the bar. It was there I saw the doorman Howard, two cigarette girls Sofie and Claire as well as the bartender Darin all glued to the television. They were watching a news broadcast about a carnage that was occurring just a little ways down the road. Local police attempted to take down a high end crime figure name Danny Richards. This was after a two year undercover operation. The problem is the police were not expecting Mr. Richards to put up such a fight. What was supposed to be a simple raid, turned into a very intense gun battle. "Well I am guessing he won't be making it tonight. That is one less low life I must worry about." Howard uttered out in a half hearted manner. Sal a bit confused asked "Wait, Danny Richards was on the list for tonight?" After a confirm nod from the doorman, the manager excused himself and stormed off kind quickly.

In the absence of Sal, Nikki and I started chatting up the rest of the Snorky crew. Darin, Claire and Sofie turned out to be fans of Nikki's singing as well. They seemed like a good bunch. Sofie was a fellow historian with a degree in Asian studies. She had just gotten back from a 7 year study abroad in Japan. "I needed to pay rent while I looked for a university or museum position. Sal and I went to high school together so he hooked me up with this gig." Sofie explained.

Claire's story was a typical one. Small town girl from the midwest looks to make it as a star in the big city. Not the brightest girl I must say. Nikki told her "Well you know Keaton did a little acting a few years back. He was in his high school production of Who Killed Dr. Pepper." "Was that a soda commercial?" Claire asked. Which is a fair enough response I suppose. I just figured someone in the acting field would know an obscure classic like that. Obscure classic... Now that is put it like that, it is a bit of an oxymoron.

Darin was quite the character. Road a motorcycle and collected tattoos. He was one of those gentleman where every ink job meant something. Some story he enjoyed telling, others not so much. He even had his fraternity tattoo on his forearm, Delta Omega Alpha.

Howard was not as much of an open book as everyone else. All I could really gather from him is that he spent time in the military. Even though they were trying to hide it, he and Claire were an item.

The conversation took a dark turn when I asked simple questions about working there. What I got from the responses were, they believe the place to be haunted. Tales of strange events at this location date back to the St. Valentine's Day Massacre itself. People hearing voices when no one was there. Dogs barking for no apparent reason then abruptly stopping. The Snorky's crew however, claim that the feelings they get goes pass strange into the realm of evil. "That doesn't stop here inside the building. Ever since they broke ground on this place, I get that feel throughout the entire neighborhood." Howard said. Being the sceptic that I am, I tried to talk logic with them. The conversation was cut short with the door opening.

It was the house band showing up. One of the musicians seemed to have been making unrequited advances toward the cigarette girl. That act sent the doorman into a rage. A full on fight was about to break out if it were not for yet another confrontation which grabbed everyone's attention.

Just as Howard and the musician were about to come to blows, Sal and the owner of Snorky's Mr. Melina came bolting out of the office. The argument was so heated it was like the sun, you couldn't help but look at it.
Melina was so angry he was literally turning red. As for Sal, the argument got him so flustered saliva flow out of his mouth with every word? Basically the fight appeared to be about the legitimacy of the lounge. Sal wanted to keep it clean, but the people on the guest list for that night was a who's who of the Chicago underworld. "It's only a fantasy old timer! It's fun to pretend to be a prohibition gangster because you don't have to worry about real bullets! Having guys like that around?... We may as well rename it to swiss cheese, because that is exactly what it's going to look like." Sal said to Melina, who then responsed by saying "Those people? You need to wake up kid. Why do you think you're standing here? Who do you think built this freaking city? It sure as hell wasn't librarians and bus drivers. Like it or not the city was built on the riverbanks of prohibition. Curved out with a Thompson Sub-machine gun... Okay you want the truth? YEAH! This building was backed with money from guys like Danny Richards. You don't like it, there is the door."

The end of that confrontation sparked a sort of parting of the Red Sea if you will. Everyone including the house band and other employees split off and did their own thing. Which made it kind of awkward for Nikki and I because we were outsiders and had no one to latch on to. In spite of the fighting we really didn't want to leave. It was a jazz lounge getting ready for one hell of a party and we wanted to be apart of it. In retrospect, we should have left when we had the chance. About 30 minutes after the argument leaving was no longer an option.

The reason for that was gun battle between Mr. Richards and the police. The crime lord had way more guns and men than they thought. He was actually pushing the police back. The fight was no longer concentrated to one building, it spelled on to the streets. We heard the gun fire intensify as the doors burst open. A plan clothes detective and two patrol officers rushed in. The detective introduce himself as Powell. He was giving the task of keep all in the building safe because the fire fight was inching closer and gaining intensity. About three minutes after they entered we heard a scream.

The scream came from the restaurant on the second floor. Detective Powell told the two officers to stay put as he checked the source of the scream. My wife and I rushed up as fast as we could. Which wasn't as fast as I would have liked because it is not easy for her to run in heels. When we finally got there, we saw the detective who was joined by Darin and Claire in the corridor just outside the restaurant. Nikki asked Claire if it was her who screamed, because it clearly was a woman. "No, it wasn't me. It must be Sofie." Claire replied as Powell and I opened the doors. Sofie was laying in the entrance way on the floor, appearing to have fainted. Once we saw she was okay we all looked in the dinning area, and saw the reason for her black out. It was safe to say the house band, all four members, had just played their swan song.

Powell told Darin and myself to take the girls back downstairs and make sure no one else came up. I assured him that I could be of service. Like many detectives he seemed a little stubborn, as if he had something to prove. I will say I thought he was extremely young to have a detective's badge. The officers with him should have been taking his order without question, but were more condescending then anything. I told him he would want my help for this. I stayed guard on the scene with one officer while he and the other searched the place.

The search took about 5 minutes with no results. With the gun battle going on, back up was unavailable. That really infuriated Powell seeing that there were dozens of cops just blocks away and none could be spared. To make matters worst no crime scene unit was dispatched. "They have to wait for the firing to stop before they can get a unit in this area." Powell told me. He looked at the mess inside and decided maybe he needed all the help he could get.

The two officers kept an eye on all the Snorky's crew members in the lounge, while Nikki, Powell and myself kept to the scene upstair. That scene was so macabre in sight, it would give me nightmares for weeks. Just on sight alone was enough to knock me out of reality. As I stood in that room I felt as if I were inside a crimson three dimensional art masterpiece. It was my darling wife that brought me back. Even though I couldn't make her go down to the lounge, she did stay in the corridor. It was her voice that took me out of that trance.

Powell and I had gathered gloves and other cleaning supplies to better look at the scene without contaminating it. When we first walked in the dinning area the first thing I noticed was the location of the bodies. Two of the men were on the floor right next to one of the dinner table. Another gentleman was still sitting with his head clunked over on the table The last fellow was face down on the ground just a few feet from the entrance. From the positioning of his body it looked as if he was trying to leave. A second theory about the entrance way body came to me when I saw that unlike his other band mates, he wasn't wearing his full suit. As I looked to my left I saw the coat rack with the jacket hanging on it. Thinking maybe that was what he was going for Powell checked it out. The search turned up a gun in a holster. I thought that a bit odd but not totally strange. He smelled the barrel and was able to determine it had been recently fired, multiple times judging from the heat. From my angle at the coat rack I could see two other guns on the floor. That really puzzled me, because it didn't appear any of the victims had been shot. Someone got close enough to kill all four, before they had a chance to pull their weapons. At first I was thought only one killer, after coming across that I wasn't so sure.

Still reluctant to trust me Powell tried to make some small talk as we continued our study of the crime scene. I told all about my bookstore back and Miami as well as the cases I have been apart of over the years. I am not sure if that helped his trust of me not. Nevertheless as we made it to the middle of the scene, the fight down the street was still ranging. We stayed focus and directed our attention to the bodies themselves.

When I examined the wounds, the multiple killer theory gain a lot of substance. The fellow near the entrance way had the back of his head cracked open with some sort of blunt object. It wasn't fatal though because it appeared as if he was finished off by his throat being crushed by a chain wrapping around his neck and someone then pulling. The other two victims on the floor seemed to have been done in by a blade or hook of some sort. One had his hand sliced off just before his torso was cut open from a bottom to top angle. The other victim on the floor was apparently struck in the forehead with a blunt object as he sat in his chair. That act forced him and the chair over, he was then finished off with a stab through the heart. The last victim in the chair, I believe was the first one to die because his death was the quickest. His throat was cut commando style. The killer came up from behind, stuck the blade in his neck and the sliced it forward. Death would have been almost instance.


So there were four victims killed with three different types of weapon. A blade, a blunt object and a chain. I started processing that information with everything I witnessed earlier that evening. As I contemplated everything that happened I caught myself staring at the victim's wounds again. As crazy as it sounded, I realized I was right the first time. There was but one killer, and I had a very good idea of who it was. I told Powell my theory. First he thought I was guilty. Then he thought I was crazy. It was at that point I made him a deal. "You help me find the murder weapon, because I know it's here somewhere. The killer had no other place to go and couldn't carry it on them. So you help me find it, and back me up when we get downstairs for 10 minutes. That's all I ask 10 minutes and you will have wrapped up a murder/massacre all by yourself. I will take no credit." He realized he had nothing to loose from that deal and everything to gain. He thought it over and shook my hand. We then began a search for the weapon.

Our search lead us to a service stockroom that allows them to keep the liquor stocked without having to disrupted dinner guess. In the stockroom my attention was captured by a trail of blood that seemed to disappeared behind a case of scotch. Moving that case moved the murder case forward. It was time to light the fire and smoke out a confession. "Leave it to you to solve a murder with a case of scotch." My lovely wife said as we made our way back down to the lounge.

When we got back down to the lounge I must say I was surprise to see everyone was still there. I just knew our killer would have ran out of fear of being outted, or someone else would have ran out of fear of being so close to a multiple murderer. As it went Sal, Sofie, Claire, Howard, Darin and Melina were all sitting there as an awkward tension and fear filled the atmosphere. I attempted to lighten the mode with a bad joke that I can't recall. Once that fell flat I just jumped right into it.

The first thing I did was debunk all the elements of supernatural forces. I assured them that the killer was of flesh and blood. I am not sure if they believed me, but I continued on. I knew who the killer was, well to tell you the truth I was about 85% sure. I still had no motive. I needed motive to bring me up my assurance up to 100%. So I began to fire off questions. There were a few things that happened and was said earlier that evening that didn't click with me and I wanted answers. I started with our so call midwest dame.

Claire claimed to be born and raised in that area but her lingo was off. She had more of a forced southern drawl then a midwest accent. Plus she kept using the word "soda", when proper midwest speak they call it pop. Also something that was bugging me was the altercation she had with the band member. She was fighting off his advances that is truth, but there was more their. After being caught in a few lies detective Powell pushed her to come clean. To everyone's surprise she teared up and confessed. Not to the murder, but to being a plant. Because of some gambling debts, she ended up working for a Frank Larkin. According to Detective Powell, Mr Larkin is a up and raising figure in the neighborhood and main rival to Danny Richards.

After listening to Powell and Claire talk about Larkin for a few minutes, something clicked with Sofie. She began asking questions herself, about Larkin and the kind of car he drives. With Powell filling in those blanks for her she realized that Larkin was the driver of a hit and run she witnessed near the Old Town Triangle a few weeks before. That information silenced the detective and made him pace back and fourth in contemplation. He noted Old Town Triangle is in the Lincoln Park area. The detective then tried to push and pled with Sofie to remember the exact date. She was able to do so because she got a call from a police officer who was following up on the report she filed.

We all noticed that the gunshots outside had stop. That is when Powell walked over to me and spoke in a low volume so only hear. "On that day just a few street over, Larkin's old boss Nick Palmer was killed in what was investigated as a robbery gone wrong. That is when Larkin moved up to number one. Him and Palmer's view point had grown apart over the years and Larkin was the prime suspect but he had a solid alibi that had him in Indiana at the time. But with her statement we can proved that he was in the area." That was it, that was the lynch pin I needed to connect the whole thing. I began to break it down for all to hear.

First I had to explain how all the band members died. Every wound plus their positions. That of course freak many of them out. I began to hear mumblings of demons and evil spirits. Before they all completely lost it I pulled out the murder weapon. "Hey, that is my kusarigama." Sofie said. A kusarigama is an ancient Japanese weapon with three main parts. The first part is called a kama. It is like a miniature version of the cycle the Grim Reaper is often depicted with. The handle was about 16 inches, with a 9 inch blade going across the top. Attached to that butt of the handle was a 7 foot chain. At the end of the chain was a steel counter weight, about the size of a golf ball. It was able to inflicked all the wounds on the victim's plus is was still covered in blood. There was no doubt it was the murder weapon, and it belong to Sofie. It would have been a nice simple wrap up to the case, and Powell was ready to do it. He had the officer cuff her and all. The only problem was, she didn't do it.

I pointed out that if Sofie was arrested for multiple murder her credibility as a witness would be completely tainted. That was part of the killer's plain. The house band had guns on them that had been recently and repeatedly fire before they were killed. I urged the crew in the lounge to put two and two together. "They just came in off the street with guns, not far from a very crazy fire fight." I said. Powell then stepped in "Wait Keaton, you think the band was working for Richards?" It was a gold star for the detective. I pointed out that looking at evidence he found, it was the only thing that made sense. Not only did they work for Richards, but he had them planted here to do a certain job tonight. "What kind of job?" Sal asked. That is when I asked Howard to read of some of the names on the guess list, starting with the low lives. About four names in he read the name of a gentleman we had just talked about a few minutes before "Frank Larkin".

Powell started putting things together himself. "So Richards had a hit planed on Larkin. But Larkin had Claire in here who was feeding him information. Through that information he was able to deduce the hit." The detective noted. I went on to explain how Sofie working there was an added bonus. His plan was to foil the hit and at the same time discredit the witness. "Okay, but honey who did it?" Nikki asked. I explained that the kusarigama is an extremely difficult weapon to learn, let alone master. There aren't many places in the United States where you could learn. That is why that weapon was chosen to do in the hitmen. On the surface with Sofie spending so many years in Japan, plus the weapon belongs to her. It would have been a open and shut case.

There was another person in that lounge who was trying to hide the fact that they had the skills. "Delta Omega Alpha. D.O.A. The Disciples Of Aries." Is what I said as I walked over to Darin looking him square in the eye. I told everyone how the Disciples Of Aries was a club... "A motorcycle club?" Powell asked. "Not really, but a large number of them do ride motorcycles." I said. I went on to explain how The DOA was a secret club that lived to study ancient warfare as well as weapons. Darin would have had the skills to take out four armed men with a kusarigama. He denied it of course but Powell as well as myself and even the crew members of Snorky's who started putting everything together, pushed him. We pushed him and pushed. Just when he was about to break, the doors opened up. It was the back up Powell asked for. The gun battle finally ended when Danny Richards was killed trying to drive off. Once he was dead, his men quickly surrendered. After a 3 hour fire fight, it was all over. Just as the other detective walked through, Darin ran out. He didn't get very far before the army of officers outside caught up with him.

Darin never ended up confessing that day. However once the real crime scene unit got there and began processing the place, they had mounds of evidence against him. Weeks later he cut a deal to turn states evidence against Frank Larkin.

Snorky's had it's grand opening about a month after the massacre. Sal and Melina agree that the only gangster in that lounge would be hanging up on the wall. They convince Nikki to come back and be the performer for the official grand opening. After the massacre it was not easy to get either of us back there, but we did. Nikki gave a wonderful performance that evening, which total covered up the first impression we got of Snorky's. Because like the song says "Bet your bottom dollar you'll loose the blues in Chicago."