A bump off auld lang syne

Just as 1931 came to an end so to did the life of of lower Eastside gambler Louis “Crooked Neck” Levine. Ah, the simplicity of yesteryear. If you had red hair your nickname was "Red", if you had freckles you were "Spot" if you had a deformed neck, you were "Crooked Neck".

Levine was hanging out at a club known as the Pups Kennel Yard, which was basically a private speakeasy where members, who needed a card to enter, could drink and gamble. Not sure what time Levine showed up but through out the evening he was called away from his poker table three times to take a phone calls.

During his last call he was over heard saying, “No, I won’t meet you. I’m going to stay here.” “Crooked Neck” returned to his table and once again commenced playing cards. At about 4:00am as Levine sat behind his approximately $400 in chips three men arrived at the club. The men were not members and in lieu of cards showed the doorman their noise makers. Since their noise makers also spat bullets they were granted immediate entrance. Recognizing Levine from behind, the men walked up, counted down from ten and brought 1932  in early by firing three bullets into the back of Levine's head.