As is true for most stories I tell, this one begins in a bar. Namely, that neighborhood bar we all love, and in which I spend entirely too much time, the Redhead. According to the certificate of occupancy, the Redhead occupies the ground floor of a 4-story Old Law Tenement at 349 E 13th St. Old Law Tenements were constructed in great numbers between 1879 and 1901 to house the invading European hordes moving to New York's East Side, and are remarkable for providing each apartment with a window.

1921 - across the street from what is now the Redhead, at 354 E 13th St, 5 year old Guiseppe Varota lives with his parents in a cramped apartment. Rumor had gotten around the close-knit Italian community that Guiseppe's father, Salvatore, had received a settlement of $10,000 in a lawsuit resulting from an automobile accident. On May 21, little Guiseppe was replaced by a note demanding $2,500 or "you will never see your boy again, dead or alive, for he will be drowned and the rest of you will be killed and the house burned."

The note bore the mark of the Black Hand: skulls, daggers, and a black hand. An early incarnation of what would become known as Cosa Nostra, the Black Hand, La Mano Nera, was a loosely organized network of recent Italian immigrants, borne from out of, and preying upon, the misery and fear of the immigrant community. The brutality of their methods - they were especially fond of dynamite bombs - was shocking even to the native New York community, which had cut its teeth on the riots and gang wars of the 19th century.

Salvatore Varota never received a settlement, and though he was able to negotiate the ransom down to a still substantial $500, he would never see his son again. Guiseppe's body was found on June 11th in a small box that had washed up on the shore of the Hudson. He was killed because he knew too much: his captor, Antonio Marino, was a neighbor, indeed, from right across the street - 349 E 13th St.

That the block that now houses the Redhead was once notorious as a violent and desperate part of town; was once the scene of one of the most shocking crimes in this city's history; was once, according to the New York Times, "the rendezvous of Black Hand bands," may seem unlikely. But consider: Antonio Marino's death sentence was overturned because he had been savagely beaten by the police. Indeed, the beatings left another one of his crew, John Melchionne, with brain damage so severe he spent his remaining days at Matteawan State Institution for the Criminally Insane. That the Redhead was once the hangout of desperate men whose actions resulted in brain damage? Now this I get.