Then “Scotty the Lamb” was located, arrested, brought to headquarters and led to confess. “Scotty the Lamb” was in some respects a pathetic figure in the case, and also a humorous one. He had been in charge of the lunch kitchen at the Arch Café when Jess owned it, and later worked as a dishwasher in a Washington Square hotel. A Scotch youth, from Glasgow, he had been in this country about four years, and while no criminal record appeared against him, he was plainly in the company of thieves most of the time. According to his statement, he had been promised $25 for doing some work for Jess, and without inquiring into the nature of it at all, had shown up with the gang and gone along to do his minor part of a “stall,” stumbling in front of the cab. But before he could get out into the street, the cab had been boarded. So poor “Scotty the Lamb,” without a nickel for carfare, plodded all the way uptown again to the saloon where the money was to be divided, and got nothing whatever. He was a cheerful soul, however, and the life of the party when the gang was locked up, cracking jokes, and taking the view that, as sentences ought to be proportioned to the amount of money each member of the gang had got in the division, and he had got nothing, he might be let off with six months’ imprisonment.
“Scotty, haven’t you got any overcoat?” asked Inspector Hughes, sympathetically, as they were going to court one brisk morning. “Did you ever have an overcoat, Scotty?”
“No, sir, I never had an overcoat,” replied Scotty, and then as he thought of his prospects for going to prison, added drolly, “And now I don’t expect, sir, that I ever will!”
The Fine Italian Hand
The next step in the case was that of arresting “Jimmie the Push” and his partner, Bob Deilio.
Another phase of the robbery now began to come out plainly.
Up to the present time the main burden of proof pointed to the four “hold-up” men of American birth as the chief actors in the crime. Montani and Jess, the two Italians, appeared to be accessories.
But as the tangled threads were unravelled, one by one, it was found that the Italians involved outnumbered the American thugs, and that furthermore they had outwitted them.
When Bob Deilio was arrested he drew $215 in five-dollar bills out of his pocket and handed it to the police, admitting that it was part of $5,500 of the stolen money. The rest, he asserted, had just been paid for rent of the two resorts operated by “Jimmie the Push” and himself.
Jimmie and Bob were taken to Police Headquarters and examined, with Jess present. Commissioner Dougherty played one against the other so skillfully, with cross-questions and counter pressure, that in a little while each was excitedly telling tales on his two companions with the desperate hope of clearing himself, and denunciations flew back and forth among the trio as evidence came out that was likely to send them all to prison. Their confessions were obtained, and used in a new effort to break down Montani. But this was without results. The little Italian chauffeur still stuck doggedly to his original story.