Mr. Grey

In the shadowy underworld of boxing, the wise guys knew that the man to see when a fight was to be fixed--or even scheduled--was a thug named Frankie Carbo, a flat-eyed hood with a shock of silvery hair. Nobody called him "Frankie." They called him "Mr. Grey." But when the law went looking for him, nobody could remember a thing about him --where he lived, what he looked like, or even when he had last been seen.

Last week, run down at last by dogged gumshoeing, Mr. Grey went to trial in Manhattan's General Sessions Court on charges of tampering with boxing. He had made a career of slipping the law's punches. Back in 1930 he had served less than a year for manslaughter, but over the years he had beaten five raps for murder. At 55, boxing's strong arm looked like a tired old man. His face was drawn, and he was suffering from diabetes. Even elevator shoes failed to give his 5-ft. 8-in. figure any stature.

The trial had barely begun when Carbo startled the courtroom by throwing in the towel. He admitted that he was the undercover manager for Welterweight Pug Jim Peters in one fight, and that he had been the real power behind the stable ostensibly managed by Hymie ("The Mink") Wallman (Heavyweight Alex Miteff, Featherweight Ike Chestnut). More damning yet was Carbo's admission that he had been the behind-the-scenes matchmaker for the welterweight title elimination fight in March 1958 between Virgil Akins and Isaac Logart.

With that, the law bundled Mr. Grey off to a jail hospital where his illness can be treated while he awaits sentence on three charges to which he pleaded guilty. Maximum sentence on each charge: $500 fine and a year in jail.

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