The Mob, the Mayor, and the Madonna: The Bottazzi/Gerard Disappearance

 

Asbury Park Press, July 7, 1968, via Newspapers.com

With some missing-persons cases, there are so few clues, it is difficult to even theorize how the victim came to disappear. With others, investigators believe they “know” what happened, but are unable to prove it. This sinister mystery below is among the latter. 

In January 1968, Rose Bottazzi of Brick Township, New Jersey, had been happily divorced for some ten years. (Her former husband, Dominick Mancino, lived in Canada and played no role in our story.) She lived with two of her children: 12-year-old Debra, and Anthony, who was 21. (A married daughter, Donna Inman, lived in Lakewood.) She was extremely devoted to her family, and was an active member of the local PTA. Bottazzi had once been a professional dancer (under the name of “Joan Mason,”) but for some time, Bottazzi had been working with a friend who owned a dry cleaning business, as a sort of apprenticeship before she opened a similar business of her own. She had already purchased the necessary equipment. 

Bottazzi was a homebody, rarely socializing or taking vacations. However, for the past seven or eight years she had been dating 56-year-old James Gerard. For the past 26 years, Gerard had worked in the delinquent accounts section of Newark’s IRS office. His job consisted of collecting overdue tax payments and hunting down people who failed to file returns. Supervisors described Gerard as “reliable, orderly, well-liked...with a clean slate of government service.” That seems to be an accurate characterization of Gerard personally as well. He was described as a quiet, likable person with no enemies. 

His relationship with Rose appears to have been based on warm companionship rather than passion. They enjoyed spending time together and going out to dinner, but there is no evidence the pair considered taking things to a more serious level. Rose’s brother Patrick described them as “two quiet stay-at-home types. He loved Rose’s cooking and would sit in front of the television set watching a football game in his spare time.” One gets the impression of a pleasant middle-aged couple happy to keep their lives in a low key. 

On January 13, James picked up Rose for a dinner date. They drove in his 1968 Chrysler Newport to Peterson’s Sunset Cabin restaurant in Lakewood. After dinner, they had a drink with the establishment’s hostess, Eileen Holland. Holland later described their conversation as “light and friendly.” Afterwards, the pair went to a bar called Tavern on the Mall. The bartender, John Vincintini, recalled nothing notable about them. They had two drinks each, and after leaving a dollar tip, left about 1 a.m. 

The Bottazzi home, Asbury Park Press, July 7, 1968

So far as is known, Vincintini was the last person to see either Bottazzi or Gerard, alive or dead. After exiting Tavern on the Mall, these two people--and their car--vanished completely. As both of them were of regular habits and always let relatives know where they were, their disappearance was noted almost immediately. An exhaustive search was launched. The wooded areas around Lakewood were examined. Nothing. Lagoons nearby were dragged (whenever people disappear along with their car it is shockingly common for it to turn out that they accidentally drove into some large body of water.) Still nothing. 

No one who knew either of them thought the couple might have eloped. They were just not the types to let their loved ones worry about them. And as Rose’s brother pointed out, “If they wanted to, they could have gotten married any time.” Both their bank accounts remained untouched, and neither had any credit cards with them when they disappeared. A state trooper acknowledged that this was one very unusual case. “These just are not the type of people to turn up missing,” he said. 

Which just goes to show that any type of person can turn up missing. 

In July 1968, the mayor of Brick Township, John McGuckin, began throwing around some dark hints about the mystery. He told reporters, “I believe their disappearance is no accident. There is a good possibility that criminal elements were responsible.” When asked to elaborate, he would only say, “There are definitely Mafia or Cosa Nostra elements here. I have seen Cosa Nostra figures from Monmouth County in Brick Township.” 

McGuckin’s enigmatic words took on heightened significance when investigators learned that Gerard had been a close friend of then-Newark mayor Hugh Addonizio. Not long after Gerard vanished, Addonizio--who was said to have Mob ties--was indicted on charges of bribery and extortion. Gerard had prepared at least one of Addonizio’s tax returns, and kept copies of the mayor’s financial records. It was also revealed that Gerard was a big gambler. A search of his apartment found a number of yellow legal pads filled with basketball and football odds and numbers. It was believed that Gerard was involved with illegal sports betting.  Considering his friendship with Addonizio and his job at the IRS, investigators came to the not-unreasonable conclusion that Gerard was targeted by somebody. 

“It’s not hard to think,” commented a police officer, “that with [Addonizio’s trial] coming up there could be reasons for [Addonizio’s] bookkeeper to disappear.” Bottazzi, according to this theory, was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. A detective speculated that “whenever they left wherever they left last...there could have been someone in the back seat who said, ‘Start driving.’” Although the famous “being taken for a ride” is associated with bad gangster movies, it has been known to happen in real life to those who rub certain people the wrong way. Considering Gerard’s links to the Mafia and illegal activities, it is not impossible that someone saw him as a liability--someone who “could talk”--and these types are very good at making people disappear forever. (See under “Hoffa, Jimmy.”) 

On the other hand, the night when James and Rose disappeared was a very bad one for driving. It was one of the worst nights of that winter, with the roads being pelted with snow, rain and sleet. The four and a half miles from Tavern on the Mall to Rose’s home was a lightly-traveled, winding road surrounded by lagoons. In 1968, there were no fences, and no streetlights. In short, given the brutal weather, it would have been terrifyingly easy to skid or take a wrong turn, and plunge into deep water. Despite the fact that the lagoons along the route the pair would have traveled were searched, it still seems possible that Gerard’s car could have been overlooked, and is still resting at the bottom of one of those bodies of water. 

However, there is evidence indicating that the pair reached their destination--Gerard’s galoshes, wallet, car registration, and IRS badge were found at Rose’s house. That suggests that whatever awful thing happened to the couple took place after their trip home. (Although Rose’s daughter Debra said she slept all night without hearing anything in the house.) 

There is an eerie footnote to this still unsolved mystery. On the day Rose disappeared, she visited her married daughter Donna. Donna’s infant son, John, had been ill, and Rose was very worried about him. During this visit, Bottazzi told her daughter that her fears for the boy had been amplified by a frightening dream she recently had. In this dream, she was lighting a candle before a statue of the Virgin Mary. As she was leaving, she stumbled, but the hands of the statue came down and kept her from falling. She had been scared by the hands reaching out to her, but Mary told her not to worry. Bottazzi thought the dream was somehow connected to her grandson’s illness, although she could not say how. She invited Donna to join her and James at dinner that night, but Mrs. Inman thought she should stay with her son. 

It was the last time Donna spoke to her mother. Rose Bottazzi went on her way, little guessing that that very night, she would indeed--whether through accident or foul play--fall into the hands of the Blessed Virgin.