Hands Up; or, Thirty-Five Years of Detective Life in the Mountains and on the Plains / Reminiscences by General D. J. Cook, Chief of the Rocky Mountains Detective Association

by D. J.‏ ‎ Cook

THE ITALIAN MURDER.

But greater horrors and more ghastly sights than these were there. The four throats had been cut from ear to ear, and the sickening wounds gaped wide, like the mouth of some huge fish. The abdomens, the arms and the hands of the bodies had been cut and mangled, while the blackened faces scarcely any trace of humanity wore.

The coroner was soon on the scene, and while the undertaker was transferring the bodies to coffins, a crowd of morbid sightseers assembled. The news of the discovery spread with marvelous rapidity, and the throng grew larger and larger, until the streets, the neighboring yards and even the adjacent housetops were packed with people. Men, women and children fairly trampled each other in their wild desire to view the bodies, and the officers were powerless to preserve anything approaching decorum.

The wildest and most exaggerated stories were circulated. It was evident to all that a quadruple murder had been committed, but no one knew the authors of the crime or its inspiration; for while it was known that a party of Italians had occupied the house, no one could be found who had seen any one enter or emerge since the preceding Sunday. One body was identified by a colored shoemaker, who had repaired the shoes still on its feet, but aside from the fact that one of the victims was an old Italian called “Uncle Joe,” and that the others were three boys, two of whom had passed as his sons, and the other as his nephew, little could be gleaned from the excited crowd.

The four bodies were taken away in an express wagon and buried in the Potter’s field. Still the object of the crime and by whom committed were things wrapped in mystery so profound that it seemed as though the final day alone would reveal the awful secret.

But all are not gifted with that insight into the ways of crime that comes only from long experience in hunting it out, and is often so marvelous that it takes the aspect of instinct. Gen. D. J. Cook, chief of the Rocky Mountain Association, and then sheriff of Arapahoe county, without waiting for any offer of reward, took the case in hand even before the coroner’s jury had completed its task. With a shrewdness almost without parallel he had comprehended a theory of the murders, and had his vigilant detectives on the track of the murderers.

The inquest developed but few facts, and these strengthened the theory the keen chief had entertained. Persons were found who identified the remains as those of Guiseppe Peccora, his two sons, Giovanni and Guiseppe, and a nephew called Luigi, and the fact was also elicited that Filomeno Gallotti, Michiele Ballotti and one or more unknown confederates had been their former associates.

Little was known of the class to which the victims belonged, for by occupation they were itinerant musicians and scissor-grinders, and were constantly wandering from place to place. No. 2334 Lawrence street had been a lounging place for some eight or ten of this class.

Putting this and that together, Gen. Cook formed the theory that the old man and three boys had been murdered by the visitors for their money, although many entertained the idea that a free fight had culminated in the death of the weaker ones, and that the visitors had hastily concealed the bodies and fled. Suspicion pointed to a gang of Italians headed by Gallotti, who had occupied a shanty on lower Fifteenth street, and Cook soon ascertained that some nine or ten made that a stopping place, as shown by the registry lists of the ward in which the building stood. The boss of the gang was this Filomeno Gallotti, a man possessing some means, and the owner of a tin shop at that place. Antonio Dertiro, a good looking, fair haired boy, claimed to be his apprentice at the munificent salary of $150 a year, and the wily detective learned that on the Thursday or Friday preceding the discovery of the bodies this youth had disappeared. The following day Gallotti also took his departure. It was learned that he claimed that the boy had stolen some money, and that he professed to be following him—all of which Gen. Cook pronounced “too thin.” The tools, traps and miscellaneous plunder had disappeared from the shop, and none of the gang had been seen after Saturday night.