The Viall Files - SCOUNDREL: HISTORY'S FORGOTTEN VILLAINS IS AVAILABLE NOW!

Episode Date: February 26, 2022

History consists of heroes and villains (and, I suppose everything in between)... but it's usually the villains who are the most interesting: Their flaws, their quirks, the voids in their hearts that force them to do the unthinkable. These are the characters that fascinate us, that pull us in, that compel us to watch and don’t let us look away. And these are the characters that Scoundrel: History’s Forgotten Villains is all about. Scoundrel, is a new bi-weekly anthology podcast from Kast Media and the award winning creators of Myths & Legends, that tells the stories of the rapscallions through time who were just a little more adept at hiding their evil from historians than others. By joining them on their treacherous journeys, we not only learn about what makes them tick, but more importantly, the times that created them. Sidney Gottlieb, George Remus, Hetty Green, Thomas Blood, James McClintock. They’ve all done horrible things...on varying scales. If there’s anything we can salvage from their misdeeds and incalculable human suffering, it’s the opportunity to use them to elucidate the times they’ve lived… so that we can better understand ourselves.    Listen anywhere you get podcasts: Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/scoundrel-historys-forgotten-villains/id1609801925 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/3KRjtrNffxIZzCb6gGxPCN?si=2ae9d508ac5744e9  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

If you like this show, I have a podcast for you. I think you're really going to love. Scoundrel, History's Forgotten Villains, is a new anthology series brought to you by Cast Media and the hosts of the award-winning and chart-topping podcast Myths and Legend. You will learn the truth about rotten and forgotten parts of history. When you think about it, history is consistent of heroes and villains, but it's usually the villains who are the most interesting. Their flaws, their quirks that force them to do the unthinkable. These are the characters that fascinate all of us, that compel us to watch and don't let us look away. And believe it or not, some of the most fascinating villains have been largely lost to the history books. For example, you'll follow a

career of a guy named Sidney, not only learning about his torturous CIA mind control experiments known as MK Ultra, but the story will open a window allowing you to really feel what Cold War America was like. So if you like crime, evildoers, and the darker parts of history, subscribe to Cast Media's new podcast, Scoundrel, History's Forgotten Villains. I'll have to play a clip of the first podcast show, but before I do, be sure to go follow, write, and review Scoundrel wherever you get your podcasts. Mike Malloy needs to die. 7 p.m., early January.

It's a cold night when Tony Marino looks out the door of his storefront. It's finally dark enough. Time to open for business. He slides boxes away from the storefront windows, faded from the sun on one side. During the day, they provide camouflage for the emptiness from the storefront windows, faded from the sun on one side. During the day, they provide camouflage for the emptiness inside the store. At night, they form a well-worn path to the back of the room. It's 1933, and the country is in the middle of what will be known as the Great Depression.

Empty storefronts aren't the exception. They're the rule. Marino runs an illegal speakeasy out of the back of the store. Has been ever since the start of Prohibition back in 1920. But he's seen the writing on the wall and knows he needs a plan B. An exit strategy. He needs Mike. Marino walks to the front and unlocks the door.

Right on schedule, Michael Malloy waltzes inside. He's beyond first-name basis. He's a regular. And so he sits down and orders his usual. Only, it doesn't go on his tab. Because the guy doesn't have one. Somewhere along the line, Malloy signed a paper in exchange for never going thirsty again. Free booze. It was a deal Malloy couldn't ignore, and Tony Marino knew it. Marino leans on the

counter and says something to Red Murphy, the bartender. If he and his buddies have their way, Michael Malloy's unlimited whiskey ends tonight. They said free drinks for the rest of his life. They never said how long that would be. Marino and his crew patiently wait for Malloy to drink himself to death. They're depending on it. Except it isn't happening, and their patience is running out. Mike Malloy needs to die. Now. Marino nods to Red. Give it to him. The bartender switches out a bottle. It's still rock gut whiskey, that's a given. But this other one has a little something extra. Michael Malloy downs it in one gulp, then another, then one twice as potent, and still more. It seems no amount of poison is enough to take this guy down. Marino and Red look at one another as Malloy leans drowsily on the bar. They would find, over the course of the next month, that

Michael Malloy, or Iron Mike, the Rasputin of the Bronx as he would become known, would be surprisingly hard to kill. This may have been a mistake. How are they going to kill Mike Malloy? History happened. The good, bad, the ugly. But some stories get less attention than others. This is the other side of history.

The lesser-known pieces lost, redacted, untold. You've heard of Al Capone, but what about George Remus, whose bootlegging empire made Capone's operation look like a lemonade stand? Sure, you know Billy the Kid, but while he was robbing cattle with a pistol, James McClintock was blowing up men by the dozen with his newfangled war machines. Never heard of them? Just wait. You'll see. And it's all true. Each episode, we want to give you a window into a moment in time, a glimpse into real life. The stories thought to be too small to focus on in the history books,

but which reveal the truthful answers to the questions. What was it really like back then? How did it feel? From the creators of Myths and Legends and from Cast Media, this is Scoundrel, History's Forgotten Villains. We're Jason and Carissa Weiser. Join with us every episode as we explore dark, quirky, and bizarre history that you might not have heard before, but really should.

Tony Marino, 27, gaunt with a hungry look in his eye, is desperate. The Great Depression is ravaging the country. New York City is destitute. People are sleeping in shantytowns in Central Park. Marino feels the flames licking at his feet. He's managed to stay off the streets thanks to the principle of supply and demand. The Alcohol Prohibition Act, put into effect on January 17, 1920, created a major demand for Hooch among the economically hobbled New Yorkers, looking to drown their sorrows at the bottom of a bottle.

And Marino supplies them with, well, whatever toilet swill booze he can scrounge up to sell in the back of his Bronx storefront. But there's a problem, and Marino knows it. His customer base is thinning out. And of the remaining barflies racking up tabs at his speakeasy, few of them are any good for it. He's constantly losing money when customers refuse to pay.

The entirety of New York City is a wallet opening up and a little moth flying out. He could only make money from peddling moonshine to the huddled masses if they can pay for it. What's worse, prohibition,

a failed experiment with a whole truckload of baggage that doomed it from the start, is ending. Everyone's happy about it, except for the impoverished speakeasy owners like Marino, who built their entire livelihood on a supply and demand model built and maintained by the continued governmental control of alcohol.

He knows that once alcohol is legal again, nobody is going to come to his hole-in-the-wall gin joint anymore. He needs to come up with a plan, or start scouting out a prime location at his nearest shantytown. And then in walks Marino's most loyal customer, Michael Malloy, a sporadically employed alcoholic living on the streets. That is, if you can call someone a customer if they won't pay you. The guy has been nothing but a thorn in Marino's side for the last several years.

Of all the speakeasies regulars, he is the most regular, but also the least likely to pay for his drinks. Marino has an idea. His ticket out of poverty would be life insurance fraud. Nobody fully knows who Mike Malloy is. His paper trail only goes back as far as the early 20s. He's an Irish immigrant, worked as a firefighter before losing his job to the Depression, and eventually took to living on the streets and working any odd job he could find in exchange for alcohol. His records are so sparse that Mike Malloy might not even be his real name.

Some accounts from this time say he's about 40 years old. Some claim he's in his 60s. And the fuzziness of all these details pave the way for what's about to go down. By the time he wanders into Marino's speakeasy, he's a full-blown alcoholic who hasn't worked in months. Marino takes pity on Malloy at first, tossing him a few free drinks here and there, and eventually gives him a part-time job sweeping up the shop in exchange for whiskey. But as the depression worsens, that all goes away. Every night, Malloy shows up begging for another drink. And depending on Marino's mood, he either tosses him to the curb

or relents and has the bartender slide him a few shots. He becomes a nuisance to the already stressed Marino. And so he becomes the perfect target for the scheme because, unbeknownst to even Mike Malloy, perfect target for the scheme because, unbeknownst to even Mike Malloy, the group had taken out multiple life insurance policies against his well-being. This all starts in July of 1932. Marino, Kreisberg, and Pasqua sit around a table in the back of the bar playing cards. The thick blanket of smoke above their heads provides cloud cover as they throw out ideas for potential get-rich-quick schemes. Selling magazines door-to-door? No, too much work.

Gambling? Nah, none of them are very good at cards. Maybe one of them could become one of those organ grinder guys with the little dancing monkey on a leash. No, I think that's just a thing from the cartoons. Is that real? Either way, where would they get a monkey? Then, Pasquale looks at Marino and gives him a knowing smirk. There's always life insurance. Marino knows what he's getting at.

They've had some history there, but we'll get to that later. If one of them has a sick relative, they can take out a policy on them and just wait for the cash to roll in. This isn't even a particularly novel idea. Committing some form of life insurance fraud is actually a fairly common crime during the Great Depression. However try as they might, none of them can think of any alien Aunt Edna's or grim-fated Grandpa Joe's tucked away anywhere. Oh well, maybe there's something to that monkey thing.

But wait, somebody has an idea. What if they made a family member? Marino looks to Pasqua, who looks to Michael Malloy sleeping at the bar. He's a street vagrant, an Irish immigrant with no family, no friends to speak of, and a hopeless alcoholic. Every night he stumbles into the bar and guzzles as much booze as he can get down his throat, passes out, stumbles back onto the street, wash, rinse, and repeat. What if one of them poses as his brother and takes out a life insurance policy on him? stumbles back onto the street, wash, rinse, and repeat.

What if one of them poses as his brother and takes out a life insurance policy on him? Who would it hurt? His alcohol-fueled death is all but inevitable, and very soon by the looks of him. If anything, he's living on borrowed time. It's a victimless crime. The three men shake on it. Pasquale will make the calls and set up the meetings with the insurance companies. They'll get the bartender, Red Murphy, to pose as Malloy's next of kin and sign the papers.

And Malloy will ply him with as much free alcohol as he can handle. To accelerate the process. This will be easy. 10 p.m., mid-January. Mike Malloy is back with his elbows resting on the bar again, enjoying his bottomless glass of whiskey. Marino's even letting him sleep upstairs at night. Malloy has become something of a common fixture,

like a barn cat, one who drinks up all the merchandise. But this isn't that classic tale of a rough-and-tumble speakeasy owner with a heart of gold. No. Marino just doesn't want to have to go searching for the Irishman in the streets once he finally keels over from the endless amounts of poisonous wood alcohol he's been pouring down his throat. Across the bar, a group of men stare at Malloy expectantly.

There's Anthony Tough Tony Bastoni, a mob-connected street goon, his lackey Joseph Maglione, Daniel Kreisberg, a local grocer, Frank Pasqua, the director of a nearby funeral home, and Joseph Red Murphy, the bartender of the speakeasy, and of course Marino. For the last several weeks, they've stood like this every night, waiting for Molloy to succumb to the gallons of poison he's guzzling. But night after night, he stumbles out of the bar and returns the next day no worse for wear and asking for more.

He even says he likes the smooth taste of the special drinks they've been giving him lately. These are the greatest days of his life, and he is having a blast. The plan seemed perfect. Wood alcohol, a main ingredient in antifreeze and formaldehyde, is highly toxic to people. As a matter of fact, it has become a popular alternative to the real thing ever since Prohibition went into effect. And as many as 11 people are dying from drinking it every day, throughout the 1920s and 30s. And yet, Beloy is downing two gallons of it per night.

How is this guy still alive? They think they're staring at some kind of immortal. Or maybe he's something more unholy. They don't know, but they do know they need to up the ante if they're going to get him to kick the bucket. They want his death to appear alcohol-related, like he drank himself to death. But as the days are stacking up, there's no more time for subtlety. If poisoning his drink isn't doing the trick, maybe putting something in his food will.