Prescription: Murder! Volume 2: Authentic Cases From the Files of Alan Hynd by Noel Hynd

Author:Noel Hynd [Hynd, Noel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Biographies & Memoirs, True Crime, Murder & Mayhem, Serial Killers
Amazon: B00PBYTIE4
Publisher: Red Cat Tales LLC, Los Angeles, CA
Published: 2014-11-06T06:00:00+00:00

John Lazia, dark suit, with entourage

in K.C., circa 1930

Lazia, known as “Brother John,” locally controlled everything from refreshment stands to gambling in the wide-open Kansas City of the era. He was also head of the influential North Side Democratic Club, a nightclub owner, a high-stakes gambler, and racketeer. The dapper Lazia—sort of an early edition of John Gotti—even kept an office at police headquarters.

Obviously then, the mob boys knew how to get things done. They found Donnelly within two days. The subsequent court cases led to three men being imprisoned for the crime and the controversial acquittal of a fourth who claimed to have thought he was abducting someone else.

After Reed’s wife died in 1932, Donnelly divorced her husband and the two were married in December 1933. Johnny Lazia passed away shortly thereafter, coming out on the short end of a machine-gun-sawed-off shotgun underworld hit.

And for fourteen years, Doctor Hyde continued his medical practice. He never married again and, when not treating patients, led a very secluded life. He remained his old, cheerful self, on the surface anyway, with always a hopeful word and a hearty chuckle for even the dying patients. Far above the rough and tumble atmosphere of Kansas City, Hyde quickly caused most home-town citizens to forget about the Swope crimes, with which our Midwestern tale began. And of course the newspapers moved along to other things.

On a night in 1934, when he was in his sixty-sixth year, and looking a good fifteen years younger, Doctor Hyde walked into the editorial rooms of the Advertiser-News to get the election returns. He was chatting amiably with several local politicians also gathered at the paper when he suddenly gasped, clutched his heart and dropped to the floor.

Breathing his last, still conscious, Doctor Hyde obviously knew the end was at hand. And maybe he had done some soul searching across the decades. In all the quarter of a century since the horror in the Swope mansion, Doctor Bennett Clark Hyde had never made one slip of the tongue. Now, though, just as Hyde took his last breath, one man leaning close to him heard three words that just could have constituted a lapsus linguae:

“God forgive me.”

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