100 years ago today. Not so fast–an unsolved murder.

The intersection of Main and School streets as they are today, and the location of the fatal shooting of Salvatore Trioli, 100 years later. (Photo by R. Carter)

By Rit Carter

Emerging from the hardships of World War I and the Spanish Flu pandemic, Bristol of 1920 was headed to a revival, as it were, full of energy and optimism. 

In February, the city outlined a plan to build Bristol Hospital on eight acres of donated land near Queen St. 

March saw A.J. Muzzy propose a 124-room hotel to be built on Prospect St. 

And real estate values in Bristol experienced a renaissance with the construction of Memorial Boulevard.

Consequently, opening a small business in Bristol’s tightly congested South End was a prosperous endeavor, especially considering that in the last 10 years Bristol’s population had nearly doubled.

It seems that within the blink of an eye, a village transformed to an idyllic enterprising little city. 

Not…so…fast.

On Sunday, July 11, 1920, at just about 8:30 p.m. as the sun waned over Bristol’s South Mountain, a gunshot rang out, followed by a loud thud that reverberated through a three-family home located at 25 School St. 

Salvatore Trioli, 35, a baker and a husband with four children, lay dead, face down in his bedroom with a gun in his right hand, his wedding photo in his left hand and a letter addressed to his father-in-law in his shirt pocket.  

As best can be determined, because public as well as privately held data base records stand in conflict with one another and even within themselves, Salvatore Trioli immigrated to the United States in 1912 and moved to Bristol not long after.   

Note: We are spelling the subject’s last name Trioli because newspapers reported it as such, but it appears as Triolo, Triola and Trioli, too.

In November 1919, Mr. Trioli entered into a lease agreement with Domenic Sinisgalli to rent the living quarters on the second floor of 25 School St., for $40 a month, and the bakery in the rear of the building, for $25 a month.

Mrs. Trioli was not present at the time of her husband’s death. She was living in Waterbury with their four children, and her sister due to domestic difficulties. She told investigators that her husband was acting strangely in the preceding weeks, and she had urged him to give up the bakery. 

Local Medical Examiner Dr. A.S. Brackett quickly determined Salvatore Trioli’s death a suicide, and the case was closed. 

Not…so…fast.

Mistakenly identified in initial media reports as Luggerio Diedo, Lettereio Piccolo, a boarder in the School St. property and Mr. Trioli’s baking partner, found the body. He was later taken into custody because the police were of the mind that he knew more.

Scores filled the court room for each legal proceeding that followed. Coverage appeared in the Bristol Press, Hartford Courant, the Bridgeport Post and the New Britain Herald.

Speculation, rumors and gossip spread throughout town, which was decidedly split on how the Italian immigrant and baker met his fate: 

  • Upset that his wife left him and due to recent business losses, Trioli took his own life.
  • In love with Mrs. Trioli, Piccolo killed Mr. Trioli in a fit of jealously and orchestrated the crime scene.

Bristol and State police went to work and scrutinized the movements of Mr. Trioli’s last hours. 

Early that Sunday morning, devastated that his wife left him, Trioli travelled to her home in Waterbury. Accompanied by Piccolo, Trioli pleaded with her to reconciliation. 

She declined. 

Returning to Bristol with two of the couple’s four children, the baker brooded but worked hard through the day, as he always did, preparing for the week ahead. 

He placed loaves of dough in the ovens around 7 p.m. When the loaves were removed, employees said something was afoul.

Trioli tested the bread and determined he failed to add salt, which made the loaves worthless, a mistake that cost him about $400 (adjusted for inflation today it is near $1,200). 

Trioli would be dead in less than hour. 

Trioli’s death was initially deemed a suicide, however, a second autopsy was requested, and the body was exhumed.

Dr. Henry Costello of Hartford completed the autopsy. Based on his findings and what investigators uncovered, suicide was an improbability. 

  • There were four bullet wounds in the brain with two having passed through the ears.
  • In close proximity to the crime scene was a firehouse (Hose Company No. 1). At a hearing on the matter, a fireman testified he heard four shots at one-minute intervals.
  • Bristol police determined the suicide letter to be written in another’s hand. 
  • The gun was found tightly griped in Mr. Trioli’s right hand, which would be impossible if he shot himself once, never mind 4 times. 
  • Trioli was discovered lying on a quilt with a pillow under his head.

Despite Mrs. Triola’s testimony and friends of the couple saying they suspected suicide, Bristol police arrested and charged Lettereio Piccolo with murder. He pled not guilty and the case was set to go to trial in October of 1920. 

Not…so…fast. 

The case saw delays and the media stopped reporting on the story, but then in September 1921, after almost a year of silence, Judge Isaac Wolfe of the Superior Criminal Court ruled Lettereio Piccolo insane.

Instead of a trial, the judge sent Piccolo to the Middletown State Hospital for the Insane. He would never leave and die there in 1932 at the age of 42.

As to why? Those answers are buried and lost in a labyrinth of court documents and hospital records. 

More specifically, what might have been brewing inside Lettereio Piccolo, a widowed Italian immigrant who came to the States in 1908 and did not speak English, to strike down a friend and co-worker on a warm summer evening in the prime of his life? 

Nineteen hundred-twenty saw economic and social change: the economy began to grow, Congress ratified the 19th amendment giving women the right to vote and a new technology emerged called radio.

Optimism was in the air, and it extended to Bristol where this change inspired an Italian immigrant to open a small business in the South End. 

As an immigrant trying to make his way, Salvatore Trioli mirrored America and Bristol mirrored Salvatore Trioli when it came to what was and is possible.

Sadly, Salvatore Trioli’s story ended before it really began.

Sourcing:

  • “Trouble with Wife Causes Bristol Man to Commit Suicide,” Hartford Courant, 1920 Jul. 12 pg. 1.
  • “May be Murder,” Bridgeport Times, 1920 Jul. 14.
  • “Withhold Verdict in Bristol Death,” Hartford Courant, 1920 Jul. 14 pg. 18.
  • “Await Verdict in Bristol Shooting,” Hartford Courant, 1920 Jul. 15 pg. 11.
  • “Held For Murder in Bristol Case,” Hartford Courant, 1920 Jul. 16 pg. 4.
  • “Flashes,” Bridgeport Times, 1920 Jul. 21 pg. 12.
  • “Bristol Man Faces Murder Charge,” New Britain Herald, 1920 Jul 1920 pg. 1.
  • “Bristol Man Faces Charge of Murder,” New Britain Herald, 1920 Jul. 28 pg.1.
  • “Wants Indictment,” Hartford Courant, 1920 Sep. 21 1921 pg. 4.
  • 1918 Waterbury City Directory.
  • City of Bristol, Land Records, Vol. 98 p. 269.
  • Ancestry.com. Connecticut, Deaths and Burials Index, 1650-1934 [database on-line].
  • Ancestry.com. 1930 United States Federal Census [database on-line].