Thread by @DavidZabinsky

1932.

The Great Depression.

Times were hard.

So to make a quick buck, three New Yorkers took out a life insurance policy on a mutual acquaintance, Michael Malloy...only to murder him.

The only issue?

Malloy. Just. Wouldn't. Die.

An INSANE story on "the Durable Mike Malloy":

Michael Malloy was a mysterious Irishman living in New York City, whose entire background, hell - even his birthday, were unknown.

Unable to keep stable work during the Great Depression, Malloy bounced from one odd job to another, be it cleaning the streets or polishing coffins.

Unfortunately, that meant Malloy spent most of his time at the New York speakeasy seen here, getting drunk on illegal, bootleg whiskey during the US’s Prohibition Era.

To onlookers, Malloy was, well... pitiful.

Homeless. Unemployed. Drunk.

And more often than not: passed out.

And so one day, with Malloy drinking himself into oblivion, three bystanders came up with the plan of all plans:

Take out a life insurance policy on Malloy….and kill him.

The three masterminds behind this demonic scheme?

We start with the 27-year-old Tony Marino, the owner of the speakeasy.

For ages, Marino had let Malloy drink on credit...but after Malloy stopped paying his tab, it was all but inevitable:

Marino had a grudge.

A real grudge.

Next, Francis Pasqua (24), who - fittingly - worked in the funeral business.

Pasqua secured three policies on Malloy's life: two with Prudential and one with MetLife.

In the event Malloy died, Pasqua and his colleagues would be paid $3,576.

$3,576 in today's dollars?

$76,457

Finally, we have the 29-year-old grocer and father of three Daniel Kriesberg, who joined the "cause" in hopes of using the proceeds to support his family.

The first step in such a malicious… and ridiculous plan?

Get the policy on Malloy.

Pasqua already had that one covered.

The second step?

Well...kill him.

And so ensued one of the most complicated things the three fraudsters would ever have to do:

Killing Michael Malloy.

For the policy to pay out, Marino and the gang had to make Malloy’s death look like an accident...not like what it was in reality:

Straight up murder.

So the first idea?

Give Malloy an unlimited, open tab in hopes that he'd drink himself to death.

It didn't work.

After drinking the bar dry for three straight days, Malloy returned on the fourth day, only to yell:

"Boy...ain't I got a thirst!"

Clearly, the copious amounts of whiskey hadn't come close to doing the trick.

So Tony Marino's response?

Shoot him.

But naturally, because shooting Malloy would trigger a little something called “insurance fraud”, Marino calmed down and decided for the murder to be a bit more...subtle.

That is, he decided to replace Malloy's whiskey with...wood alcohol.

Now, what the hell is wood alcohol you ask?

Well - what it sounds like: literally alcohol from SAWDUST, which - unsurprisingly - is lethal.

Marino went to the nearest paint shop, bought a few cans of ten percent wood alcohol, and began serving glasses to the thirsty Malloy.

But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger (that's a thing, right?)

Much to Marino's, Pasqua's, and Kriesberg's disappointment, Malloy kept slurpin' the wood alcohol down night after night until on one occasion, without warning, he fell to the floor.

The three murderers (let's call them for what they are, shall we?) knelt by Malloy's side, checking for a pulse, only to be SHOCKED when he got up and screamed to the bartender:

“Gimme some of the old regular, me lad!”

And so illustrates our theme:

Malloy. Just. Wouldn't. Die.

With Marino continuing to advocate for killing Malloy in a more conventional way...you know, with a rifle or something, his accomplices suggested otherwise.

So next on the menu for Malloy?

Rotten oysters.

Pasqua thought force-feeding old, smelly oysters in the guise of fresh seafood, served, of course, with wood alcohol, would cause SO much indigestion that Malloy would topple over.

But rotten oyster after rotten oyster, Malloy would simply lick his fingers and ask for more.

The team then thought perhaps a non-shelled fish would get the job done.

They prepared rotten sardine sandwiches mixed with...SHRAPNEL, and served them to Malloy in hopes the metal would carve his intestines.

But even after eating the sandwich...

Malloy. Just. Wouldn't. Die.

Ok, forget about food, the murderers said.

They decided to try and inflict Malloy with bronchitis or a pneumonia of some sorts by getting him drunk, bathing him in ice water, and leaving him out to sleep in the cold New York winter night.

But the next morning?

Malloy showed up at the bar, complaining only of a "wee chill."

Alcohol poisoning. Food poisoning. Hell, even shrapnel and an attempted transmission of pneumonia just couldn't make a dent in Malloy's pulse.

So the only solution?

Run him over with a car.

The gang hired a taxi driver to the sum of $150 ($3,000 in today's dollars) to run a drunken Malloy over with his cab.

The driver revved up his engine and collided with Malloy at 50mph (or 80km/hr), who thumped lifelessly to the ground.

Malloy was dead...

Or so they thought.

Days later, with a few cuts and scratches, Malloy limped into the bar, screaming:

“I sure am dying for a drink!”

With little to no hope left for their nefarious plan, the killers decided there was only one way to kill Malloy without alerting the insurance company:

Get a corrupt doctor involved.

Marino & co. took a passed-out-Malloy nearby where they attached a tube of gas to his mouth, killing him instantly.

The corrupt doctor?

Pasqua's friend, Dr. Frank Manzella, signed a phoney death certificate and pronounced Malloy dead not from homicide..but from lobar pneumonia.

The killers made a beeline to MetLife, where they received the $800 settlement seen here.

Next, they headed to Prudential where they'd receive the remaining balance.

But when Prudential asked to see the body (which Pasqua refused), a thorough investigation ensued.

Shortly after, with the whole town talking, it was clear:

Malloy was murdered.

Marino, Pasqua, Kriesberg, and the others involved?

They were found guilty and sent to the chair.

And with Malloy looking down from above, he made certain:

His killers died on the very first try.

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The inspiration for this thread?

The incredibly-written, well-chronicled piece below, authored by @AbbottKahler:

smithsonianmag.com/history/the-ma…