eet ew
LIE,
~ * . * cr r- ~ ‘ lou o », Q
Ludwig, wh, elec. NYSP (Kings) August 2, 1928
The WOMAN,
A manila package, thrown on the lawn
of St. Augustine’s Church in Brooklyn—
containing parts of a woman’s body...
And the hunt was on for the phantom
ARCH-FIEND!
This is the man who went to the chair: for the
crimes that rocked Brooklyn. Note the striking
difference between right and left sides of his face
ING-A-LING-A-LING! ,
It was half-past seven o’clock on the
morning of Sunday, July 10th, and
George F. Bishop, captain in charge of
detectives in the Eleventh District, of
Brooklyn, New York, was deep in sleep.
Ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling !
Captain Bishop half opened his eyes, damned
the insistence of the telephone bell, and sleepily
lifted the receiver.
“Uh-uhP”
“That you, Captain?”
“Yep!” *
“This is Bill Jordan. They just found parts of
a woman’s body near the steps of St. Augustine’s
Church, Sixth Avenue and Sterling Place.”
Captain Bishop instantly became wide awake.
“V'll be right down!” he said, ringing off. Fee
He scrambled into his clothes, swallowed: a hur-
ried breakfast and started for headquarters in his
car. On the way he recalled that only the night before, at
Brooklyn police headquarters, he had been discussing with
Inspector John J. Sullivan the information that a bundle _
containing the leg of a woman had been found in Battery
Park, Manhattan, by a patrolman looking for drunks under
the bushes. He and Sullivan were thanking their lucky
stars that the find hadn’t been made in their Borough of
the city, for neither was good at solving jigg-saw puzzles,
Too, a human jigg-saw puzzle was something neither
relished. And now——
Arriving at headquarters Bishop found that the dreaded
case had been laid right on his own doorstep. Mrs, Mary
Donovan, who: lived at 7 St. John’s Place, on her way out
of St. Augustine’s Church, had observed a bundle wrapped
in manila paper, on the lawn of the church, close by the
steps. It had not been there when she entered a half hour
before! It had been thrown there while communicants were
at Mass by an inhuman being, who had tossed it on the
church property. ;
Captain Bishop shuddered. He went into the small
morgue attached to the Forty-second Precinct, which is also
housed in the police headquarters building, and examined
the find. It clearly showed the woman to have been of
huge size, probably weighing over 200 pounds!
Detective Shaw was sent to scour the neighborhood .of
20
ghoul!
Detectives and workmen examine contents of a sewer catch
for portions of thetmutilated corpse of Sarah Elizabeth Brownell,
the church, which was not far from Brooklyn police head-
quarters. Just after he left, Inspector Sullivan appeared.
He, too, had been notified of the discovery. While they
were discussing th. case his phone rang. A voice said:
“Ts this a detective?”
“It is Captain Bishop, Eleventh District. What can I
do for you?”
THERE was a moment of clear hesitation and a bit of
stammer, then the caller said:
“You'd better send a detective right down to Flatbush
Avenue and Park Place. I am Inspector William Fitzgerald’
of the B. M. T. and the porter at the Carlton Theater has
just found a bundle under the fire-escape there with pieces
of a woman’s body in it!”
Informing the man that immediate action would be
taken, Captain Bishop dropped the receiver and called De-
tective William Jordan, whom he instructed to hurry down
to the theater. Jordan left, with Detective White of the
homicide squad, Manhattan, who happened to be at
Brooklyn headquarters. Arriving at the scene they were
Jc
basin at Roge
aged spinster
informed b
the theater
The two d
left hand, {
breast, nec}
the left h
joint. The
spread and
The two
minutes w)
side the ot
inside, talk
man entere
Detective ‘
tective bur
“T want
said the m
Detectiv
he was A!
and that h
her home
AN,
‘he lawn
ioklyn—
body...
ahantom
of a sewer catch
lizabeth Brownell,
lyn police head-
illivan appeared.
sty. While they
voice said:
ct. What can I
on and a bit of
wn to Flatbush
liam Fitzgerald’
ton Theater has
here with pieces
ction would be
and called De-
1 to hurry down
e White of the
ned to be at
cene they were
Se 2 RE
MISSI
By
JOSEPH H. APPELGATE
basin at Rogers Avenue and Beverly Road, Brooklyn
aged spinster (shown at right) ac
informed by Amadeo’ Competiello, porter of '
the theater, that he had found. the package.
The two detectives opened it and found the
left hand, forearm and distal half of arm, left
breast, neck and shoulder. The ring finger on
the left hand was amputated at the third.
joint. The parts were wrapped in a white
spread and a red and white blanket.
The two detectives returned in a very few
minutes with the find, which they placed be-
side the other in the morgue. As they. were
inside, talking to the morgue keeper, an elderly
man entered police headquarters and accosted
Detective Caesar Bonano, who was in the de-
tective bureau.
“I want to report that my wife is missing,”
said the man.
Detective Bonano questioned him. He said
he was Alfred Bennett of 16 Lincoln Place,
and that his wife, Selma, 56 years old, who left
the GED.
her home about 7 o'clock the night before
. (Saturday). had not returned. Bonano called Captain Bishop.
“What sort of a looking woman was your wife?” asked
Captain Bishop, having in mind,the proportions of. the
discoveries.
“She was a very latge woman,” said Mr. Ben-
enett... A! :
“Did she ever remain away all night before?”
“Never!”
“Where did she say she was going when she
left home?” —
“She was.on her way to Twenty-eight Prospect
Street, a flirnished rooming-house she used to
own, and which she sold to a party named Sarah
Elizabeth Brownell. Miss Brownell is supposed
to be in the country, and the house is now being
run by a Norwegian whose name is Lee.”
“You are positive your wife was alive last
night?’ asked Captain Bishop.
“Positive. Why do you ask?”
CAPTAIN BISHOP did not reply. He was doing
some rapid thinking. When the man first told
his story he had been inclined to believe that the
man’s report might solve the mystery in their
‘morgue. But the decomposed condition of the
’ parts found made it impossible to link them
with a woman who had been alive the night be-
fore. He wondered whether the husband of this
missing woman was cov-
ering up a longer absence
for delicate reasons. And
he repeated the question:
“She didn’t disappear
before last night?”
“No.”
“You remain here. !’ll
send a good man right up
there.”
.’Captain Bishop dis-
patched Detective Jordan,
alone, to the brownstone
lodging-house at 28 Pros-
pect Place. Jordan, using
a police department ma-
chine, was there in three
minutes. His ring at the
basement door was an-
swered by a thick-set fel-
low in his late thirties,
who had heavy black hair .
and dark brown eyes. He
did not have a bad face.
yet there was something
about it that startled the
detective. Perhaps it was,
as those who studied this
man later discovered, the
strange dual nature of his
face. One side, his left,
was that of a thoughtful,
kindly, hard - working
21
ee ie
}
|
H
at the station j
trap is over-
d towel under
t up. It was
z reminder of
ier that-morn-
piece of news-
e rear wall of
ie 6
aid Lee. {
Jordan. “Just
cket. holster to
; hand still on
fellow named
loor!”
‘he door of his
landing. He
uid he wanted
isen, Who was
en went down-
up the rear.
ellar.”
) when he saw
he stench was
upstairs, kept
‘eet.
os
The Woman, the Ghoul—and the Missing Head 23
Jordan felt that one
of those two men. was
a killer. Not one who
slew under: the: blind
fury of temper, but a
fiendish murderer who
had committed a crime
so atrocious that evi-
dence of it had caused
the experienced Cap-
tain Bishop to shudder. .
He ushered the two
men to -the police ma-
chine and_- ordered
them.to get in. Jordan —
had turned the car into
Flatbush Avenue, trav-
eled a block, when he
saw. a welcome. sight.
A policeman’ in’ uni-
form, stick swinging
easily, was walking
down Flatbush Avenue,
He hailed’ him, © ex-
plained that he was
taking prisoners to
headquarters and in-
structed his brother
officer to climb in.
“KEEP your hand on
your gun,” Jor-
dan immediately caution
If there were an incho
mind of one of those two men to escape, the arrival
CORNERED !
" ‘The nad butcher (without hat) on his way to court to be tried for murder. (P. & A. photo.) (Lower
left) The exhibit depicting how the second victim—Mrs. Selma Bennett—was cut into several
pieces by a jigg-saw in the hands of the ghoul .
,
Z id
ed the: patrolman, in an undertone.
ate, fiendish plan in the desperate |
of the
second uniformed officer must have smothered it.
At headquarters, Detective
to Captain Bishop, who ordered Lee and
Jordan reported his suspicions
Jensen kept. under
guard and started out for 28 Prospect Place with Jordan
and Detective White. When they arrived at the house
they went immediately to the cellar. With the aid of some
old ‘boards and a crate or two they constructed a pathway
from the foot of the stairs, over the flooded floor, to the
west wall, against which was a pile of junk.
“That is the first thing to examine,” said Captain Bishop.
“Unless I am greatly mistaken, the odor is coming from that
pile!”
LD furniture, crates, sugar boxes, broken brooms, rags,
newspapers—all were piled with a suspicious profusion
on three barrels, two metal, one wooden, which the rubbish
almost wholly concealed.
The three detectives began taking the junk off the
barrels. Finally, they reached an old bed comforter which
covered the tops of the three barrels. Captain Bishop
called atténtion to the careful manner in which this cover-
ing had been spread. Then, he lifted it slowly from right
to left. Under the glare of their flashlights the first
wooden barrel showed nothing suspicious. But as the
comfortable was drawn back from the metal, center
barrel, the’ head of a woman stared up dully through half-
open eyes, into the glare of the flashlight!
Captain Bishop replaced the comfortable and the junk so
that the pile looked as it had when he and his men entered
the cellar. Then he hurried upstairs, where there was a phone,
and made two calls. One was to the patrolman guarding
the two suspects in the Forty-Second Precinct, in the head-
quarters building. The message was brief and snappy.
“Don’t let either one of those birds out of your sight until
you hear from me!”
The other call was to Inspector John J. Sullivan:
“Inspector, we've found a woman’s body in the cellar
here. Better come down. Wouldn't bring Benneft because
she’s been cut up. Send him home and tell him to wait
there until called!”
Inspector Sullivan, first summoning Doctor M. Edward
Marten, Deputy Chief Medical Examiner of New York City,
hurried to the premises. Soon after the Inspector's arrival.
the Deputy Medical Examiner (Continued on page 07)
ane is
68
main sewer in the middle of Prospect
Place by a vitrified pipe which ended
at the front wall house trap. Foreman
Higgins had the entire U-shaped trap
removed. Then he ran a hose line from
the fire hydrant directly across the
street and into the cellar of the murder
house. He inserted the nozzle of this
hose into the open end of the pipe. The
hydrant, a high pressure one, was then
opened! The terrific force of the water
blew out the pipe, and emptied the
contents into a bulkhead at the bottom
of a manhole to the west of the house
connection. When the pressure of the
water was reduced, there was a great
accumulation of refuse. Captain Bishop
turned this over to the medical exam-
iner for inspection.
The foreman then took the nozzle of.
the hose and turned it into the five-inch
cast-iron pipe which carried waste ma-
terial from the house.out as far as the
trap. The pipe was so jammed that
the powerful high pressure stream could
not force its way through!
The entire house plumbing in the cel-
lar was then removed and the pipes
were broken into pieces. The contents.
were turned over to the medical exam-
iner. But before this was done, Cap-
tain Bishop, at one glance, verified his
suspicions that the two women, and
net one, had been jigg-sawed in the
cellar! A set of false teeth was found
among the ghastly accumulation.
It was then past 8 o’clock and, as yet,
suspicion was directed against both Lee
and Jensen. A third man, Otto Niel-
sen, of 353-59th Street, who was de-
scribed by Jensen as a friend of Lee’s,
and who had been in the house with
both men during the week of July 4th,
was taken into custody, and brought
down to the murder house to be ques-
tioned.
Even with the gruesome proof in the
cellar that two women had been mur-
dered there, and the admission by Lee
that one of them had been with him
the night before while he worked down
there, the police were still in the dark.
Circumstantially, the case at that point
he strong against both Jensen and
ee.
AND another and even more horrible
suspicion had been forced into the
minds of the police by a statement
made to Prosecutor Dodd by Lee, while
the sewer men were at work.
“Why don’t you look for Carl Ben-
nett, the son of this dead woman?” Lee
had asked. “He’s on bad terms with
his people. Maybe he killed her!”
Inquiry was made about this son.
It was found that he had not been seen
about the place for two or three days.
Also, it was verified in a few minutes,
by questioning Jensen and Nielsen and
other lodgers in the house, that. there
had been bad blood between young
Bennett and his people. He nih bean
in some sort of a scrape; had got him-
self arrested, and was in such strained
relations with his family that he no
longer lived under their roof. Mr.
Bennett said this was quite true.
Could it be possible that young Ben-
nett had killed Miss Botnet and then
slain his own mother as she came upon
him at his frightful task of fiendishly
The Master Detective
dissecting the body of his first victim?
The strongest piece of evidence thus
far discovered was the piece of manila
wrapping paper about the fragments
found in Battery Park, which Jensen
had identified as having been about the
lamp he had bought and unwrapped
in Lee’s room. Jensen seemed anxious
to tell this, Captain Bishop had noted.
Why? Was his anxiety inspired by a
desire to fasten the crime upon Lee?
Had he purchased that lamp to work
by in the cellar? Was Lee innocent?
Could it not be easily possible that he,
as the caretaker of the house in Miss
Brownell’s absence, attempted the
plumbing work just to make a good im-
pression upon her by keeping down the
expenses of running the place?
After all, what motive had Lee?
And, if it had been robbery, and he had
A New Light Plane
Altitude Record
Barney Zimmerley, noted Ameri-
can pilot, recently established a new
world’s altitude record of more than
27,000 feet in a Barling NB-3 light
plane.
Mopet AIRPLANE News
jumped right at the opportunity to
obtain plans of this plane, and in
the June issue will be found full-
sized plans and constructional data
with which to build a perfect 3 foot
flying model of the Barling NB-3.
In addition, there are plans for a
Crescent “Flying Glory” monoplane,
the model that has flown 1,050 feet,
and also for an exclusive indoor
tractor—a 30" “Gull.”
Furthermore, in this wonder model
airplane magazine for boys there is
an excellent story on parachutes by
Orville H. Kneen, and an interesting
and instructive article on gliders by
Anatole Feldman.
Then there is the Macfadden
Aviation Advisory Board, headed
by Captain H. J. Loftus-Price, with
its usual high standard of instructive
information on every phase of
aviation.
A Macfadden Publication. On
all news stands May 23rd. Fifteen
cents a copy.
killed the landlady, surely he must
have obtained whatever loot there was
and could have made his get-away days
before!
It was half-past eight o’clock that
night before the mystery began to
simmer down so that one figure emerged
clear and distinct, in the mass of evi-
dence the police had dug up! At that
hour, Patrolman John A. Tonry of the
Bergen Street Precinct arrived. To
Prosecutor Dodd and Captain Bishop
he told a strange cory.
“Miss Brownell,” began the officer,
Seating himself on an old trunk in the
room, ‘telephoned the station house on
June 27th, just as I reported in from
‘the box and I came around here. I
found her in this room. I asked her
what was the matter. She told me that
she was in deadly fear of her star
boarder, Lee. I asked her what was the
trouble. Well, the old lady ‘hemmed
and hawed and then she explained that
she had spent $1,800 on this Lee, when
she set him up in a business. After he
failed, he demanded more money. She
said she had been giving him $15 a
week spending money, but that he had
threatened to kill her that morning, and
she wanted him to leave the place.”
Prosecutor Dodd interrupted.
“She admitted that he was her
lover?”
“NJOT in so many words, but the
situation was plain enough, Judge,”
Tonry replied. Then, he went on:
“I started to go upstairs, by way of
the door at the foot of the stairs lead-
ing to the second floor, where Lee slept,
right above her room, when I found my
way blocked by a trunk. Miss Brow-
nell explained that she had moved the
trunk over there to prevent Lee’s get-
ting in. I took the trunk away and
went upstairs. I found Lee in his
room.”
Tonry paused. He looked down
toward the floor. “Now, ain’t that
queer?” he exclaimed. “Here | am sit-
ting on that very trunk!”
He changed his seat, taking a chair,
as he continued:
“T said to Lee, ‘What the hell is the
matter with you? Miss Brownell com-
plains to me that you threatened her
and that she is scared of her life. What
about that?’ He did not answer. So
I said to him, ‘You'd better pack up
and beat it!’ Then he said, ‘No!’ [|
asked him why he wouldn’t get out and
he replied:
““The old woman owes me two hun-
dred dollars.’
“I asked him what for and he an-
swered:, :
““For ‘things I did around the house.’
I asked-him, ‘What things?’ He said,
‘Allsthe little things, little things!’
“I then ordered him to pack up and
get out by the following morning or I’d
come around and arrest him as a vag-
rant, for not having any support. He
told me he would not get out.
“Well, he looked so queer and his eyes
burned with such a funny light that |
asked him where he came from. He
said he was a Norwegian, born Febru-
ary 5th, 1889, in Blaker, Norway, and
that he came over to this country on
the Steamer Bergensfjord in January,
1923. I thought maybe he was a shell-
shocked war veteran, or something, so
I said to him, ‘Were you ever in a rest
camp or a sanitarium?’ He said he
never had been. So, I warned him
again. about getting out of the house
and left. In the morning, when I re-
turned, he was still there, but Miss
Brownell would not make a complaint,
so I could do nothing.”
Captain Bishop and Prosecutor Dodd
went into the kitchen, where Lee was
under guard, and questioned him. In
the meantime, Detective Jordan and
Detective Joseph M. McCarthy, who
had also arrived on the scene to aid,
had been busy. Detective Jordan
found that all of Lee’s shirts were
marked ,B-118, as was the shirt found
- stuffed in the ceiling of the cellar. De-
tective McCarthy had found a wedding
ring in Lee’s trunk, and had already
June, 1930
had it ider
longing to
cially identifie
the morgue wh
“IT guess we'\
now,” Captain
tor Dodd, as
Lee, who was s
window, calml\
“Yes,” said |
death house ii
speed this case
is the most br
and the man w
deserves no me
Lee never b
didn't even p:
continued to |
window, as if |
CAPTAIN Bl
Romeo W.
medical examin:
kitchen sink, lo«
“Take the ac
the finger nails
ed, pointing to
Lee must ha\
about to occur
vital importanc
he seemed not t
a sullen silence
ordered him to
extended his h:
file to search
matter under t
ingers.
ensen, who
stairs, was bro
were treated si!
from each we:
envelopes, and
were Imm
chief medi
studied by ~~.
the toxicologist
er’s office.
When the det
velopes, Prosect
“Stand up, L:
ney of this Cou
the murders oi
and Miss Sara
Have you any
charger Remen
say can be used
“Nothing,” sa
“Take him in
District Attorr
Bishop.
Jensen and >
dered arrested ;
ial witnesses.
Thus ended §
far as the police
been a day of
there were many
up and points tc
the hands of a
case against Le
nary aspects ar
be literally shot
probably conten
the house comm
that he, as care
ested in cleaning
benefit of the ot
corpus delicti of
not be proved b
body was still n
But. developm
on Monday.
aon
22 The Master Detective
HOUSE OF DEATH!
The box which the bluecoat is carrying from this house at
28°Prospect Street, Brooklyn, contains a head and other
parts of a human body, foundinthecellar. (P. & A. photo.)
(Right) A court exhibit, showing how Miss Brownell’s body
was pieced together. Parts of an arm anda leg were
never found ,
man. The other side, his right, was repulsive and brutal.
The: eyes-were not. the same size, the nose pointed sharply:
to the right:and the stout chin was weak.
“Who are you?” asked Detective Jordan, as the man
held the iron gate half-way open.
“My name: is Lee, Ludwig, Halverson Lee,” answered the
man.
“Are you in charge of this house?”
“I am. Miss Brownell, who owns it, is in the country.”
“WELL, I am a police detective and I’m looking for a
Mrs. Bennett. Has she been here?” .
The unequal eyes stared right inta-the eyes of the officer.
“Yes, She was here last night. She stayed about five
minutes and then left.” .
Detective Jordan pushed his way into the hall, saying:
“I’m coming in, Lee, to investigate!” 2
Lee admitted him and pointed inside the first room they
passed: “That’s Miss Brownell’s room,” he said,
Detective Jordan noticed that the. room was in perfect
order. Then, careful to keep Lee in front’ of him, he walked
to the rear, through the hall which opened into a back —
kitchen. :
Instantly, he knew that he was about to make a great
discovery, For the moment he entered this kitchen he was
struck by the same peculiar odor, that he had noticed less
than fifteen minutes before, in the morgue at the station
house.
“What's that smell?” he asked Lee.
“The sewer pipe is stopped up and the trap is over-
flowing,” said Lee. .
Just then, Detective Jordan noticed a soiled towel under
the kitchen sink. He stooped and picked it up. It was
wet and it emitted an almost overpowering reminder of
what was in the package he had handled earlier that-morn-
ing. He took the towel and wrapped it in a piece of news-
paper. As he did so, Lee walked toward the rear wall of
the kitchen and reached toward his coat.
The detective’s hand found his gun.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
“T’ve got to buy some stuff at the store,” said Lee.
“Well, maybe you can buy it later,” said Jordan. “Just
now you'll stay here!”
As he said it, he shifted his gun from a pocket. holster to
his outside coat pocket. “Now,” he said, his hand still on
the gun, “is there anybody else in this house?”
“@)H, sure,” said Lee, eagerly. “There’s a fellow named
- Christian Jensen who lives on the top floor!”
“Is he home?”
“Yes,” mo
“Lead the way to him!”
They went upstairs, Lee leading. Jensen, the door of his
room open, heard them as they .neared his landing. He
emerged from his room. Briefly, Jordan said he wanted
Jensen to accompany him downstairs. Jensen, who was
half-dressed, slipped on a shirt. The three men went down-
stairs, Lee again leading, Jordan bringing up the rear.
They reached the kitchen.
“Now, Lee,” said Jordan. “Show me the cellar.”
Jordan got no further than the fourth step when he saw
that the place was covered with water. The stench was
overpowering. He ordered the two men upstairs, kept
them covered, and took them out into the street.
o
Sarah Lm Brownell ,
.
EF te,
Kaiyh
Jordan f
of those tv
a killer.
slew unde:
fury of te
fiendish m
had commi
so atrociol
dence of it
the exper
tain Bisho;
He _ ushe
men to th
chine an
them to gé
had turnec
Flatbush /
eled a blc
saw a We
A. policer
form, st!
easily,
down Flat
He _haile
plained
taking
headquar!
structed
officer to
“ce EEP
you!
dan imme
If there
mind of «
second ut
At heac
to Capta
torneys
d Crail
ittle of
vidence
roblem
rer the
ial evi-
2W eVi-
deal ot
timony
ighbors
uarrel-
ront of
ne wo-
| Mrs.
uu any
d that
k Mrs.
rch of
no at-
was a
nd for
it Was
ng the
idwrit-
defen-
arated
ok the
she
uf-
ule
‘quent-
atients
ly was
spot on
pOsses-
‘ted to
luction
ughout
\ot fin-
28, at
iry re-
degree
prison-
r Mc-
y 28th
to ap-
*, took
eniten-
ig his
stonous
led the
n and
ake us
The
dismal
ve had
m sure
turned
turned
If you
‘ide to
ust let
oment.
» bleak
ne
ne
Doctor
June, 1930
The Master Detective
67
The Woman, the Ghoul—and the Missing Head
put in an appearance. Under his super-
vision the gruesome find was carefully
investigated. jNo trace of woman’s
clothing was anywhere in sight. Then
it was that Captain Bishop noticed
that a portion of the plaster board
ceiling had been torn down. Under his
instructions, Detective White poked in
the hole with a stick and retrieved a
woman’s clothing and also a man’s
shirt. On the shirt was the laundry
mark B-118.
“We'd better bring those men back
here,” said Inspector Sullivan.
He and White departed to get the ac-
cused men. While they were gone De-
tective Jordan, whose work was re-
warded with a certification of merit-
orious service for what he did in the
matter, went next door. At 30 Pros-
pect Place he found Mrs. Emma Loh-
man. He showed his shield, and she
invited him inside.
Os ile ae seen Mrs. Bennett?” he
asked.
“She was here last night, shortly after
six o'clock,” Mrs. Lohman said. “I
telephoned her about the conditions in
the house next door! You see, Mrs.
Bennett used to own the house, but she
sold it a few months ago to a womah
named Miss Brownell, a maiden lady
of seventy. Last Monday, the man
tells me who is running the house, Miss
Brownell went to the country. Since
then the sewer has been stopped up.
This man Lee, who is in charge, was
working on the stoppage all Friday
night. I could hear him_ pounding,
pounding, pounding! It was awful! I
couldn’t sleep! Yesterday morning |
saw him in the yard, where the water
was flowing out of the sewer trap, and
{ asked him what was the matter. He
said, ‘I hired out two rooms to a couple
of girls and they took a bath and
stopped up the sewer.’ I asked him
why he didn’t call a plumber and he
said, ‘I don’t need one. I'll fix it, all
right. Look here!’ Then he showed
me a can of pipe cleaner, one of these
mixtures of lye used to cut grease in
pipes. He said he had bought five dol-
lars’ worth and -
“Five dollars’ worth!” interrupted
Jordan.
“Yes, five dollars’ worth,” continued
Mrs. Lohman. “But the smell was so
terrible that I decided to telephone
Mrs. Bennett and tell her about it. I
can't understand why Miss Brownell
would go away and leave a big house
like that in charge of this foreign fel-
low. Well, I called Mrs. Bennett right
away and she came around here in the
forenoon yesterday. But she couldn’t
get in. She went away and returned
last night at about supper time. I told
her what was going on next door. She
suid she would go in and talk to Lee
about it. | watched her enter the house
next door, and waited for her to come
out. I] was at my window practically
the whole evening. It was very warm,
and I was trying to get a breath of
fresh air behind the open screen. It
was half-past ten when I retired.”
(Continued from page 23)
“What time did Mrs. Bennett come
out?”
“I never saw her come out,” said
Mrs. Lohman.
Jordan returned to the murder house,
where he found that District Attorney
Charles J. Dodd, now Supreme Court
Justice, had joined the investigators in
the cellar where they had Lee and
Jensen. As Jordan went downstairs he
saw Captain Bishop uncover the head
in the barrel. He demanded of the
two suspects who it was.
“It looks like Mrs. Bennett,” said Lee.
Jensen shuddered and turned away
but said nothing.
“Was Mrs. Bennett in the cellar last
night?” asked Bishop of Lee.
“Yes,” said the caretaker, “she was
watching me working, cleaning the
sewer.
What do you think is stopping it
up!
“Those new girls who hired a room
Friday night. They took baths and
must have thrown something down the
pipes,” said Lee.
Doctor Marten made a sign to Prose-
scutor Dodd and called him aside.
“This isn’t a case of one murder,” he
said, in an undertone. Two women
have been killed and cut to pieces, ap-
parently by a jigg-saw. The head of
Mrs. Bennett, on the barrel there, does
not belong to any of the parts of the
body in the morgue. I don’t even have
to look at the sections found about the
city to know that! This head is in a
perfect state of preservation. So are
the other parts of the body in the
other barrel. Besides, there are two
legs in the barrel.over there. In Man-
hattan a third leg was found! I think
that the parts of the body in the bar-
rel here belong to Mrs. Bennett. I be-
lieve that missing parts of her body
and the other woman’s are the objects
which have blocked the sewer pipe.
Clean out that pipe and you'll find out
much more than you now know!”
Dodd told Captain Bishop who tele-
phoned Foreman George W. M. Hig-
gins of the Brooklyn Bureau of Sewers
and asked him to bring equipment to
blow the pipes clear. i
WHILE they waited, the investiga-
tors went over the case. Miss
Brownell, owner of the house, had not
been seen for several days. Evidently,
she was the victim of the first murder,
and Mrs. Bennett had been slain for
one of thyee reasons.
First—Mrs. Bennett might have sur-
prised the murderer in the cellar, busy
‘at his ghoulish task, and he had slain
her to conceal his deed.
Second—She had quarreled with him
over the stoppage in the pipe and had
told him she would have a plumber
sent, which would have led to certain
discovery of the crime and his arrest
before he could dispose of what re-
mained.
Third—He had stupidly killed her, in
a drunken fury.
These were the angles that were being
considered by Captain Bishop when a
detective arrived from headquarters
with the wrapping about the part
found in Battery Park.
“Did either of you two men ever see
this piece of paper before?” asked Bis-
a? of Lee and Jensen.
ee’s brown eyes burned, but he did
not reply. Jensen’s face showed an
eager recognition.
_ Sure, I have seen it,” he said. “It
is the kind of paper I wrap parcels
with. I work in an A and P store.”
Captain Bishop hustled Lee into an-
other: room and began grilling Jensen.
For at that moment it began to look
bad for Jensen.
“How do you identify this piece of
paper?” asked Bishop.
Pian looked at it carefully and
turned it over. He pointed to a column
of figures on the back, totalling $2.04.
“Those are my figures,” he explained.
“I know my handwriting. I must have
added up a customer's purchase, and
used this piece of paper to wrap up the
lamp I brought back to the house Fri-
day night!”
BISHOP'S mind was working fast.
He looked, significantly, at Prose-
cutor Dodd and Detective Jordan, who
were in the room. Through the minds
of the three men passed one thought.
The electric light bulb in the cellar
was found broken when the detectives
arrived there after Jordan’s first visit.
A kerosene lamp might be a good light
to work by at such a task! A request
for a new bulb might arouse suspicion!
“Go on!” snapped Bishop.
“Friday night when I got home I had
this lamp with me wrapped up in a
package. | opened the door and started
to walk upstairs when Lee, who was
sitting in the parlor with the door
open, called to me. He asked me what
I had in the package. I told him and
he asked me to open it. After he
looked at the lamp I asked him if [|
could leave the paper in his room. He
said | could and then he added, ‘Sure,
leave the papers here. I want them’.”
District Attorney Dodd then began
a severe cross-questioning of Jensen, in
an effort to discover if he had any
trouble with either of the two slain wo-
men. He stoutly denied this and his
manner was such that he almost con-
vinced both the Prosecutor and the De-
tective Captain of his innocence. But
neither official was taking a chance, and
even though a motive insofar as Lee
or Jensen were concerned had not yet
appeared, it was decided to hold both
in the house until further developments.
At 5 o'clock the sewer foreman, Hig-
ins, arrived with his men. Captain
ishop’s instructions to tear the plumb-
ing out of the house and search it
thoroughly were warmly approved by
Prosecutor Dodd. The sewer men set
to work. And no detective of fiction
ever directed a more thorough, or more
comprehensive search for evidence, than
that umder the supervision of Captain
Bishop, which began with the arrival
of the sewer men.
The house was connected with the
neek is in the noose right now. Gray
admits he was the trigger man, but he
says you planned the whole job; says you
promoted it and your share is waiting for
you.”
From the dark recesses of the cell
Moore’s eyes flashed. But he said noth-
ing.
We stopped at Benton on our return
and Sheriff Robinson informed us he
could put his finger on Gray and the gold.
“We checked a joint over in Buck-
ner,” Robinson said. “The dice game
was paying off in gold and the man run-
ning it was Elmer Gray.”
That settled it as far as Ellis and I
were concerned, We hurried over to
Buckner.
That night Joe Doakes, who happened
to be a more or less recent parolee of
Menard, sat in on Gray’s dice game, fi-
nanced by us, and Joe had a reputation
of making the ivories talk when he
handled them.
Luckily for us he was “hot” that night
and he shot a string of naturals on the
double so rapidly that the bank had to
dig down in the sock to pay off.
Doakes pocketed the gold pieces that
Gray was compelled to lay on the line
just as fast as he won them and bet the
ordinary money.
With almost one hundred in gold in his
pocket he jacked the game and walked
out.
Identifies Gray
A SHORT time later Sheriff Robinson
was locking Elmer Gray in his
Franklin county jail. We sent deputies at
once to find Arthur Moats and bring him
in to look over the suspect.
A strange light burned in the sunken
eyes and he strode into the jail with a
stomp that belied his 70 years.
But in the bull-pen Sheriff Robinson
lined up all the prisoners, including
Gray. There were 18 in that lineup. All
ages, types and descriptions, Arthur
Moats started at one end of the line, his
eyes darting like rapiers until he reached
No. 9, Then ‘his face hardened into a
wrinkled image.
A bony forefinger shot out at Gray.
“That man shot Angus. They called
him Spud.” .
Gray gritted his teeth. His features
clouded. .
“Tt’s a frameup!” he shouted.
But the identification had been per-
fect. No one had even told the old man
why he was being brought to Benton.
But even as this dramatic scene was
being enacted, authorities in nearby West
Frankfort were running down the
passers of several of the old-style bills
that had appeared in that community a
day or two before. Harry Terry and
George Carter were picked up and Sheriff
Robinson notified.
Our check showed that these men were
on our parole list, along with Gray.
The latter laughed at us when we at-
tempted to question him, insisting that
he had obtained the stolen money in the
course of his gambling transactions, But
Carter and Terry sought to outstrip each
other in saving their own hides by talk-
ing.
Before they had gotten well underway
the word went out to pick up Joe “Big
Shot” Kuca of West Frankfort, and Rich-
ard Moore. Sheriff Robinson immedi-
ately rounded up the last one, Elmer
Auten; another parolee.
For an hour I listened to one of the
strangest tales I have ever heard, the
story of what was to be the “perfect”
crime, planned to the last detail within
the wall of a state institution intended
to reform criminals.
“Gray, Auten, Terry, Moore and I
spent many hours planning this job while
we were in Menard,” Carter said. “Moore
was the ringleader. He told us months
ago that there was $40,000 waiting to be
taken in that old farmhouse.
“Richard Moore drove ‘Spud Gray past
the place on Christmas day so that he
could spot it and locate the phone line,”
Terry told me. “This was to be the per-
fect job for 40 grand. Joe Kuca, the “Big
Shot” in West Frankfort, was in on the
deal and he agreed to furnish the rods
for us. There wasn’t supposed to be any
killin’, but Gray said before he went in
that if they recognized him that he’d
bump ’em off. He shot when the old man
said he knew him.
“After it was over we went straight
back to West Frankfort and drove out
to Kuca’s home near the bottling works.
We dumped the safe there and went to
work on it. They make a lot of noise
around the works and no one lives close
by. Joe brought out the tools—an axe,
a bar and a sledge.”
“Kuca was madder than ever when he
saw the size of the bills. He grabbed
Gray by the arm.
“*A fine job!’ he snorted. ‘You bump
off a guy and all you bring back is a
bunch of clues that will bring the law
down on youl’ He said they’d pick us
up as soon as we tried to spend the
money. I guess he was right.”
Terry and Carter told of loading the
safe into the coupe after all the securities
had been burned. The “Big Shot” was
afraid of the bonds.
“We drove to the West Frankfort
reservoir and dropped the safe into the
deep water,” Carter said. “We split the
money and went home. Dick Moore was
to get $1,000 for driving Gray past the
house that day but after he learned the
old man had been killed he refused to
take it, I don’t know who was to give
Merritt Moore his split.”
The following day we went to the
reservoir and Terry pointed out the spot
where it had been thrown. The water
was eight or ten feet deep, but we
eventually recovered the doorless box
for use as evidence.
State’s Attorney Matthews obtained
the indictment of all:seven of the con-
spirators, two of whom elected to stand
trial, Gray and Kuca. Only a few mo-
ments of deliberation were necessary to
decree the death chair for the trigger-
man, Gray. Joe “Big Shot” Kuca re-
ceived a 14-year sentence.
The others pleaded guilty and received
the following sentences: Auten, life;
Terry, life; Carter, life; Merritt Moore
and Richard Moore, each 14 years.
Elmer Gray went to his death in the
chair August 27, 1932, The others now
are serving their sentences.
Brooklyn’s Murder Monster and the Double Death Riddle
[Continued from page 27]
and that’s the last I saw of her.”
“Where did you go?” Carey asked.
“To get a plumber,” Lee answered.
“It was too big a job for me. I didn’t
have the tools.”
“Was Max here then?” questioned
Carey.
Lee nodded emphatically.
“Sure,” he said. “Max was right there
with her, but he was mad at her and
they weren't speaking.”
An Amazing Find
DDITIONAL weight was being added
to the suspicions slowly forming in
Deputy Inspector Carey’s mind, Lee’s
story fully corroborated that of Mrs.
Lohman. The circumstances surround-
ing Mrs. Bennett’s disappearance—Max’s
quarrel with Mrs. Bennett—the place
where the missing woman was last seen
—everything added up.
Carey weighed the evidence briefly.
The trail was crystal clear up to a certain
point—and that point apparently ended
in the cellar of the Brownell house!
Brushing the still protesting Lee aside, :
a
Carey and his men plunged into the
house. One man was detailed to watch
Lee, the others made for the basement
stairs. One thought burned in Carey’s
brain: What hideous secrets would the
fateful cellar disclose?
The basement itself, littered with ac-
cumulated trash, was still wet and
muddy, Walking gingerly in the half
light, the detectives scattered, peering
behind discarded furniture and poking
into bins and coal heaps.
But the search revealed nothing.
Carey’s hunch had failed. On the verge
of leaving the cellar to inspect the floors
above, Carey’s glance rested once more
on three oversized ash cans, half hidden
in the gloom beside the furnace. He
strolled over to the nearest one and tilted
it tentatively.
The can was curiously heavy. Carey’s
senses quickened. He reached inside to
bring the contents to light.
Suddenly an exclamation of horror
burst from his lips. The other detectives
came running to his side.
Carey had discovered the butchered
remnants of a woman’s body!
Quickly the other cans were brought
into the light. A brief glance told the
gruesome story. The disappearance of
Mrs. Bennett was no longer a mystery.
In the remaining cans were the bloody
complements, except for head and legs,
of the victim’s mutilated torso!
But an even greater shock awaited the
detectives in the grim chamber of
horrors.
As the sorry remains were taken from
their hiding places, Carey stared in
amazement.
Added to the
the bundles scat
total was more t
Instead of one
were two!
One of the vi
the ill-fated Mr
who was the oth
And then like
the question in J
brain: What ha:
abeth Brownell?
New York wa
of Carey’s disco.
was only momen
metropolis was ¢
The police depar
tivity. Buzzing
telephones wor
orders crackled
everything for t!
tify the woma)
slayer!”
Developments
coming. An ent
vengeance trail.
woman’s head v.
River, across fr
the ghastly colle
found in Prospe
Before the da
missing parts
mutilated fragm
two human bodi:
bled. Identificat
construction left
pitiful remair
Bennett and Sa
The tool wit!
been dismember
the nature of th
ax or hatchet..
This theory .v
testimony of .M:
“T heard a thu
door,” she said,
the night. It-w:
up for a while, s
then started all
Later events
right. The sou
caused by the
the bodies ‘of th:
small enough t:
There was no
in that dissectio
—just a dull’
killer, working
task in the ‘ec
gloom.
Damr
THOUSA®
police. By
helpless wome
motive could |}
some deed? W)
fit in? And mos
the last person,
see Mrs. Benn:
The puzzle s¢
suddenly came :
ing a hole in :
murder cellar,
tigated. Ther:
cloth—the clo
women at the
and, most dam
_ pair of trouse:
the property c
The Norw
promptly jaile
out for Max. '
in, the suspec
story was so Ss‘
planation of b
Added to the parts already found in
the bundles scattered about town, the
total was more than that of one woman.
Instead of one murder to solve, there
were two!
One of the victims was undoubtedly
the ill-fated Mrs. Bennett. But who—
who was the other?
And then like a crack of doom rang
the question in Deputy Inspector Carey’s
brain: What had become of Sarah Eliz-
abeth Brownell?
New York was stunned by the news
of Carey’s discoveries, But the reaction
was only momentary. Soon the horrified
metropolis was clamoring for vengeance.
The police department hummed with ac-
tivity. Buzzing teletypes and jangling
telephones worked feverishly. Terse
orders crackled over the wires: “Drop
everything for the Brooklyn case. Iden-
tify the woman and track down the
slayer!”
Developments were not long in forth-
coming. An entire city had taken the
vengeance trail, Shortly afterwards, a
woman’s head was found near the East
River, across from Battery Park. To
the ghastly collection was added a thigh
found in Prospect Park.
Before the day was over, all of the
missing parts had been found. The
mutilated fragments of what had been
two human bodies were carefully assem-
bled. Identification was easy —the re-
construction left no room for doubt. The
pitiful remains were those of Selma
-Bennett and Sarah Brownell.
The tool with which the bodies had
been dismembered was not found, but
the nature of the wounds bespoke a dull
ax or hatchet.
This theory was strengthened by the
testimony of Mrs. Lohman.
“T heard a thumping in the cellar next
door,” she said, “that lasted until late in
the night. It wasn’t continuous. It kept
up for a while, stopped for a minute, and
then started all over again.”
Later events proved Mrs. Lohman
right. The sound she had heard was
caused by the murderer as he hacked
the bodies‘of the two women into pieces
small enough to be easily disposed of.
There was no surgical knowledge used
in that dissection—no sharp instruments
—just a dull ax wielded by a brutal
killer, working steadily at his gruesome
task in the eerie light of the cellar
gloom.
Damning Evidence
THOUSAND questions assailed the
police. By whose hand were the
helpless women slain? What possible
motive could have prompted the grue-
some deed? Where did the boarder, Max,
fit in? And most important—what of Lee,
the last person, by his own admission, to
see Mrs. Bennett alive?
The puzzle seemed hopeless—and then
suddenly came another discovery. Notic-
ing a hole in the ceiling plaster of the
murder cellar, a keen-eyed sleuth inves-
tigated. There he found a bundle of
cloth—the clothing worn by the two
women at the time they were slain—
and, most damning of all, a shirt and a
pair of trousers positively identified as
the property of Ludwig Lee!
The Norwegian !andyman was
promptly ‘jailed and a drag net thrown
out for Max. But when he was brought
in, the suspect proved blameless. His
story was so straightforward, and his ex-
planation of his actions at the time of
the murder so well verified that no sus-
picion was attached to him.
By this time the newspapers were
blazoning the name of Lee across their
pages as the torso murderer. Neighbors
of the slain women were sure of his
guilt—the police were even more sure—
but there was still nothing but circum-
stantial evidence to link the man with
the killings.
A score of detectives began an ex-
haustive investigation into the life of
Ludwig Halverson Lee. They learned
that he had recently tried to cash a check
for $1,000, drawn on Mrs, Brownell’s
bank. The teller doubted its authenticity
and Lee quickly retrieved it. The odd
job man explained that Mrs. Brownell
owed him the money and was paying
him in a lump sum in order that he might
go back to Norway. The check was a
palpable forgery and Lee might have
been arrested then had he not promised
to bring Mrs. Brownell to the bank to
get the money herself.
But Mrs. Brownell was even then be-
yond all possibility of taking-any hand
in mundane affairs.
Encouraged by their success, the de-
tectives decided to pry further into the
relations of Lee and Mrs, Brownell.
They unearthed some surprising facts.
Lee, they found, had come to America
six years before to make his fortune,
and had lived with Mrs. Brownell since
that time. His status was apparently
that of a roomer, but there appeared to
be some mysterious link between him
and the capable, good-humored woman
who was his landlady. The more gos-
sipy neighbors hinted at a secret ro-
mance, but saner heads, remembering
Mrs. Brownell’s 76 years, laughed the
matter down.
With the picture of a sullen lodger
dominating, Svengali-like, his aging land-
lady, the police plunged even more eager-
ly into the affairs of the mysterious Lee.
Uncover New Clues
ee dey then on events moved with
kaleidoscopic swiftness.
A Manhattan ticket seller at the South
Ferry station had seen Lee carrying an
oddly shaped bundle within a minute’s
walk of the spot where one of the legs
had been found. A woman identified
Lee as the man who was seen crawling
beneath the fence of the Brooklyn-Man-
hattan subway yards, where one of the
heads was later discovered. Other people
had seen Lee near the spots where the
other gruesome finds had been made.
The evidence against Lee was mount-
ing daily, but it was still too highly
circumstantial to bear weight in court.
Another search of the murder cellar
was ordered. The hunch was good. Six
cans of lye rewarded the investigator's
efforts.
The next step was to trace the pur-
chase of the lye. Slowly, laboriously,
detectives followed the handyman’s-
wanderings. Persistence won. Each of
the cans had been sold to Ludwig Lee.
The quantity of lye was not sufficient,
of course, to destroy the bodies in their
entirety. But tha! ntended the dis-
trict attorney, was not the murderer’s
purpose. He had hacked the bodies to
pieces, disposed of certain bulky parts
and then put the remainder in the ash
cans, intending to cover them with lye
and thus destroy them.
The detectives turned their attention
to Lee’s effects. Another damning clue!
HOW NEW
HAIR
GROWS
and
WHY
Men
Go
BALD!
Baldness may come from several causes. A germ called
“¥lask Bacilli of Unna’’ gets deep into the scalp, causing
one of the most dangerous types of dandruff, yet is seldom
suspected, The refuse it produces clogs the pores and hair
follicles, causing itchy scalp, falling hair and prevents the
dorniant hair roots from growing hair, No wonder so many
stay bald. All the hair tonics, olntments and soaps in the
world will not grow hair, as they treat only the surface
conditions. But now a new method enables those with thin,
falling hair and bald spots to quickly remove this clogged
up thin outer skin of the sealp, thus permitting pores and
follicles ‘to absorb air, sunshine and receive the blood
stimulating influence of a scalp compound, thereby acti-
vating the dormant hair roots to function and grow hair in
many Instances. It Is belleved in certgin selentific circles
this new method will greatly outdo other methods of grew-
ing hair. Full instruction on how to proceed are published
in a treatise called “HOW HAIR GROWS" now being
mailed absolutely free to readers of this magazine, Send
no money. Just name and address to Dermolay Lab.,
Desk 45, No. 1700 Broadway, New York, N. Y., and
treatise will come by return mail, postpaid, free, If
pleased tell friends.
Learn Public
Speaking
‘At home—in spare time— Many overcome
“stage-fright,” gain self-confidence and in-
crease their earning power, through ability
to sway others by effective speech.
ty Write for free booklet, How to Work
nh
e
Wonders With Words and requirements
North Space rbaeny Institute, Dept. bh
OMEN!
Delayed?
Use GENUINE MEN-
STRUA when delayed!
REMARKABLY
SPEEDY RESULTS in
many unusual. overdue,
diffieult, abnormal delays,
without pain, harm or in-
convenience,
QUICKER ACTING
Kspeelally — recommended
where ordinary relief com-
pounds fail, as QUICKER
ACTING and much easier
and sooner assimilated by
body, Not an experiment
, but) widely known for
\i years, and of a type often
ie favored by physicians.
$O COSTLY RARELY OFFERED
Costs us over 3006 more than 'y reli
Dut eosts you no more! ‘Tasteless, easy to take. Contains
no dope, NO narcotics, no opiates, no mabit-Corming drugs,
no harsh drastic mineral poisons to punish the body—only
pure, harmless, laboratory-tested vegetable Ingredients
used for many years by physicians all over the world,
De
solutely safe to take, for women report no bad effects at all,
aiter the How was restored,
Wonderful enthusiastic testimoniats, | M.-L.
overdue. ‘Tried diferent, peinedios and nothing worked ¢x-
‘Misi
jay.?* FF, Ps
> weeks delay. Splendid."* M. M. “Delayed 0 weeks.
box worked. Other remedies failed, | Ar tg a G.
“Relieved 2 selaye 1S weeks and 9 weeks.) Wonderful.
of . DM
Painless.
' tle
wondertul work.!
NOTHING BETTER THAN MENSTRUA
STRUA, we will not send literature
better ‘and ‘stronger’? for we have
vw rellel compound—the homt we can precuret In
TEED! Price $2.00, Orders rushed. same di F
postpaid in plain sealed box PRICELESS INFORMATION
PURITY PRODUCTS COMPANY
6001 Harper Dept. 783 Chicago
WuHen ANSWERING ADVERTISEMENTS, PLEASE MENTION Jury Dynamic Derective O3
—— es
|
| District Attorney Charles J. Dodd (left) Place, Brooklyn. His wife, he said, had iy “At the
I and his assistant, Fred Kopff, leave left home on the afternoon of the preced- prising a
| the jail after quizzing the murderer. ing day and had not yet returned. } Mrs. Bro
| Below is the bloody trail of the killer Detectives pounced upon Bennett s an- been livin;
| : nouncement, bombarding him with ques- f Tt was |
| showing central Brooklyn and the tions. ‘ ; that the :
| Battery in Manhattan, where the first Struggling visibly to control himself, f gating. <
| gruesome find was made. the badly shaken man endeavored. to. b toward t!
answer their queries as best he could. ' Place.
His wife had left home the day be-. t Carey b.
| fore, said Bennett, on the afternoon of the } the odd jo
rain storm. She had not been seen since. } mons.
. Mrs. Bennett, he continued, had re- { Carey Ic
cently sold a rooming house on Pros- - Norwegiai
pect Place, to a friend, Mrs. Sarah Eliza- “Tm loo
beth Brownell. The latter, a 76-year-old to force hi:
. woman who looked no more than fifty, Lee shor
. had previously operated in Sterling “T don’t
Place, but wanted a larger establishment, ._- here since
She had little money, but Mrs. Bennett something
accepted a small down payment and se- The ans
cured the balance with a mortgage. The was alway
house in question was directly in the in hiding ;
rear of their own home on Lincoln, ' cover his ¢
Place. ~ “How
On the afternoon of the cloudburst, Maybe he’:
Mrs. Emma Lohman, a neighbor, noticed But aga
that the back yard drain at Mrs. Brow- avegian wa
nell’s place had clogged and a torrent had left - «
of muddy water was pouring through the roomers.
basement windows. She immediately were carri
telephoned Mrs. Bennett, who hurried : “Well,
over to the Brownell house, anxious to Carey. -E\
protect her property. Mrs. Brownell ap- he was ha:
parently was not at home, but one of her “She's ¢
roomers, Ludwig Lee, an odd job man, , state,” ans:
was busily clearing the drain Carey ft
when Mrs. Bennett arrived. They : nowhere.
talked for a moment, according detectives,’
to Mrs. Lohman, and then went looking for
into the basement apparently to peared. -M
; ascertain the damage. Since that ; Mrs. Bem
time there had been no trace of ‘ house yest
; the missing woman. For am
if Under further questioning, brief © look
Bennett revealed, somewhat re- features.
luctantly, that a certain ill feeling is trying t
existed between his wife and their head. The:
f boarder, Max. He intimated that “Ves,” Ji
h Max had quarreled with. Mrs. to see abo:
Bennett on various occasions over told her th
: money matters, and as a result and that s!
a was no longer living at the house., wouldn't 1i
7 Vague suspicions began to take ‘ herself,
i form in Carey’s brain. “Where She we
j is Max now?” he asked. (4 [C
if
ee —
HUDSON RR.
DYNAMIC
aid, had “At the Prospect Place address,” was the sur-
preced- prising answer. “When we sold our old house to
d. Mrs. Brownell, Max refused to move and has
ett’s an- been living there since.”
th ques- It was a slim clue at best, but Carey decided
that the missing boarder would bear investi-
himself, gating. Soon he and his squad were racing
vored. to toward the brownstone house in Prospect
could. Place. ;
day be- Carey beat a vigorous tattoo on the door. Lee,
on of the the odd job man, answered the imperative sum-
en since. mons. Without betraying a .
had re- Carey leveled a piercing glance at the stolid flicker of emotion, the
yn Pros- Norwegian. brutal butcher sat
ah Eliza- “[’m looking for Max,” he announced, trying stolidly in court as the
-year-old to force his way into the house. “Where is he?” state painted his crime
ian fifty, Lee shook his head and barred the way. ‘ d lurid that
Sterling “T don’t know,” he replied. “Max hasn’t been atch Asse ict ddered
lishment. = | here since yesterday. He looked like he had jurors shuddered.
Bennett something on his mind.” ;
t and se- - The answer did not satisfy Carey. There
age. The was always the possibility that Max was still
y in the in hiding and that this fellow was attempting to
Lincoln cover his getaway. He became more insistent.
“How do I know you're telling me the truth?
yudburst, Maybe he’s still in the house. Let me in.”
i, noticed But again the entry was denied. The Nor-
rs. Brow- wegian was obdurate. Mrs. Brownell, said Lee,
a torrent . had left. orders to admit no one except the
rough the roomers. He intended to see that those orders
mediately were carried out.
io -hurried “Well, where is Mrs. Brownell?” grated
inxious to Carey. Evidently this fellow didn’t realize that
ownell ap- he was hampering the police. :
one of her “She’s gone on a visit to some relatives up-
| job man, * state,” answered Lee.
the drain Carey fumed. . The investigation was getting
ived. They ; nowhere. He tried another tack. “We're
according detectives,” he explained, “and we're
then went looking for Mrs. Bennett who has disap-
parently to peared, Mrs. Lohman said that she saw
Since that Mrs. Bennett in the backyard of this
no trace of house yesterday. Did you see her ?”
For a moment Lee did not speak. A
juestioning, brief‘ look of concern c louded his
newhat re- features. The tiny furrows of one who
n ill feeling is trying to remember creased his fore-
fe and their head. Then he spoke.
cimated that “Yes,” he said slowly, “she came over
with. Mrs. to see about the water in the cellar. I
casions over told her that the basement was flooded
as a result and that she’d better keep out. But she
at the house. wouldn't listen. She wanted to see for
egan to take herself.
in, “Where She went down into the cellar,
sked. , [Continued on page 62]
PROSPECT
PARK
THIGH
\
DYNAMIC s DETECTIVE 27
ART OF BACK ANDHIPI—~ -
by
B. BROWN
ust a week earlier and it
trom her kitchen window
nd twisted into grotesque
1ore “lionish” than usual.
that enveloped the Catta-
n, continued. The white
direction from the lonely
ves as she gazed off toward
‘om the desolate farm only
Tere and there a tree, its
2 of a fencepost, peeping
- of the place.
‘ed to the kitchen range.
the bed of glowing coals.
- weather outside. For a
uth that radiated from the
helf over the table, and it
houghts turned to the mid-
o have ready promptly at
turning shortly from the
had gone with milk. Hum-
DEFENDED HONOR
Aiddle-aged housewife fought
er attacker—tand died at his
lustful hands, like this.
he te naman
snatches of an old tune to herself, she picked up a pan, opened the
cellar door and descended to bring up vegetables.
But as she left the room the outside door-knob turned slowly.
Silently the door was pushed open and a man entered.
A glance around the room and he saw the open cellar door. From
below, came the soft singing of the woman. He crossed the room
stealthily, a lustful glitter in his shifty eyes. Half way down the stairs
he halted. His lips curled in a sneer as the woman, suddenly aware
of his intrusion, turned from the vegetable bin at the foot of the stairs.
As she saw him, she blanched with fear.
“Hal!” she screamed... . “Oh, Hal!”
The man laughed evilly.
“Yell some more,” he taunted. “No one can hear you but me, and
I rather like it.”
He was at the foot of the stairs, now, and standing close beside her,
There was no escape as he took her in his arms, despite her struggle
to free herself.
He snarled at her, his bulky figure towering over her like a beast
over its prey. Then his mood changed and the mad gleam
of passion shone again in his eyes.
“Come on now, Toots, give us a kiss.”
As the man’s sensuous face drew close
to her’s, and
HE DIED TOO is
But the killer wasn't satisfied
with one victim. This man, her
husband, died in ambush.
27
‘hand pressed against her breast, the woman spat at him.
“That’s my kiss for you . . . you rat!” she gasped.
a The man recoiled and pushed her violently to the floor
as he wiped his face.
“Damn you... you'll pay for that!”
Near the stairs he saw an axe. His hand reached for the
handle, and, as the woman lay prone in the dim light of the
murky cellar, he swung it in blind, bestial fury.
6 Ses was A sickening thud as the heavy metal struck
the woman flush on the head. Again. and again he
swung it, until finally, the frenzy of his attack abated, she
lay there mutilated beyond description.
Then, backing away from the ghastly sight, he climbed
the stairs and went to an upstairs room. Pawing through
a dresser drawer his hand finally brought out a small tin
box. It was locked, but it was only the work of a moment
to pry it open. When he saw the contents, he cursed and
threw it aside. In another drawer he found a small revolver,
which he slipped into a pocket.
Suddenly, the man straightened up and listened. The
hum of an automobile motor arrested his attention. It came
ge! into the yard and stopped.
“God}'o. i he’s: back,’? he
whispered, and his voice was
husky with terror.
Descending the stairs he
stood trembling behind a. hall
door, with drawn gun.
The newcomer entered through
the rear door. The house was
Lin quiet with the stillness of
pou death.
“Bee...” the new ar-
rival called.
i 1 | There was no answer.
AeA He walked to the front
Fie room. As he reached
|| the center of the floor
a there was a slight noise
| in the hall leading to
| the stairway. He
| looked up, expecting
i to see the woman, but
| he faced the menacing
| muzzle of a gun.
“What do you
| want? ... where’s
\} ' 2?
Hy one of
HI
|
|
The question was
unfinished. The gun
| spat flame. A sharp
crack. A thin wisp of
dy smoke. He crumpled to
the floor and lay still.
Tossing the weapon
to the side of his sec-
ond victim, the killer
went out the way he
had come, into a blind-
ing snowstorm that
obliterated his
tracks.
As the fire in the
kitchen stove
burned low and
the glowing
embers died
out, the ¢
cold of the
March day
28
DISCOVERED BODIES
Ira Bennett (left), and
William Whitmore
(right), who found grim
scene of horror on farm.
crept through the little farmhouse where two corpses stiff-
ened with the chill of death.
*x* %*
Te wAs A TIME when Bernice Kenyon had dreamed
of a career, of independence and the acclaim of the lit-
erary world for the novel she would write. That was in
the days in Salamanca, New York, a city of 18,000 souls,
when she was in school learning to become a stenographer.
Early in her life, she had shown a distinct flair for writing,
and as she neared the end of her business course, she sold
a few short stories and bits of poetry.
But because there was need for a steady income and the
returns from writing were irregular, she accepted a posi-
tion as stenographer when she graduated.
In those days time meant little to Bernice. She planned to
work for a while, save her money, write, and in a few
years leave the hum-drum routine of the office and devote
herself to writing the story of which she dreamed.
It was to be a story of regeneration; of the love of a
woman for a man who had wasted his early years and had
chosen the primrose path to what he thought, in his warped
estimate of life, would be
quick riches and affluence.
But exposure, conviction
and prison soon followed.
Then would come repent-
* ance with the revelation of a
woman’s love and devotion.
The leaves of the book
of life would be turned
over and a new start
made. Together, this
man and: woman of
her fancy, would
live down the past,
and in the end, like
all good stories
must end, there
would be happiness
and the restora-
tion of a way-
ward youth to
his place in so-
ciety.
But some-
how, as the
months turned
into years, the in-
timate details of
the plot did not un-
fold. She wrote,
tore up and started over
again. She told her-
self she lacked the
background, the experi-
ence and the color to
weave together the
strands of the tale.
And strive as she would
to make her hero and
heroine real and alive,
they seemed to hover al-
ways just beyond her
reach.
Then came a day in
1920, when a Catta-
raugus County
judge offered her a
position as his
stenographer.
4
»
-
e where two corpses stiff-
«
nice Kenyon had dreamed
and the acclaim of the lit-
vould write. That was in
irk, a city of 18,000 souls,
to become a stenographer.
a distinct flair for writing,
r business course, she sold
oetry.
vr a steady income and the
cular, she accepted a posi-
raduated.
to Bernice. She planned to
ney, write, and in a few
ie of the office and devote
vhich she dreamed.
ieration; of the love of a
ed his early years and had
: he thought, in his warped
imate of life, would be
uick riches and affluence.
‘ut exposure, conviction
ud prison soon followed.
‘hen would come repent-
- with the revelation of a
-oman’s love and devotion.
The feaves of the book
’ of life would be turned
over and a new Start
made. Together, this
man and woman of
her fancy, would
live down the past,
and in the end, like
all good stories
must end, there
would be happiness
and the restora-
tion of a way-
ward youth to
his place in so-
< gicty.
—. But some-
e how, as the
months turned
into years, the in-
timate details of
oe the plot did not un-
fold. She wrote,
tore up and started over
again. She told her-
self she lacked the
background, the experi-
ence and the color to
weave together the
strands of the tale.
And strive as she would
to make her hero and
heroine real and alive,
they seemed to hover al-
ways just beyond her
reach.
Then came a day in
1920, when a Catta-°
. raugus County
judge offered her a
ba | position as his
2 stenographer.
ee ae “=
More mature now, the dark-haired, vivacious, pretty girl
saw in such a place the opportunity to obtain the thing she
lacked. Experience. As a court stenographer and aide to
a county judge, she would learn many things about life of
which she was ignorant. She would glimpse life in the raw.
She would obtain a first-hand understanding of the criminal
and, perhaps, she would be able to delve into the mental re-
actions of those who had gone astray.
And thereafter Bernice Kenyon worked, and watched and
studied those who come before the bar of justice,
The years slipped by and as she reached middle age, she
realized that not only was her story no nearer completion,
but also there was something else she had missed in her un-
compromising determination to attain the goal she had set
for herself. And she wondered what it was.
i te MORE YEARS passed, during which she had come to
now by heart the routine of County Judge Orla Black’s
court.
Still attractive at forty-seven, her dark hair unstreaked
with gray and the lines of her now womanly figure, her olive
complexion, belied the years she must admit to.
It was then romance first came to her.
She was taking notes at the trial of Harry C. Race, alias
Harold Farnsworth, at a session of Cattaraugus County
Court in the county seat at Little Valley, New York. As she
looked at the youthful prisoner, she knew with that intuition
born to women, that here was the answer to her problems.
Here was the hero of her story. She saw herself the hero-
ine. The rest would be easy. Life itself, the thing she
never had known, would unfold in all its mystery and beauty
to her. With its revelation she would be able to fill. in
the details of the plot that for so many years had escapéd
her.
Race was on trial for carrying concealed weapons. She
saw his record. Convicted in Montpelier, Vermont, for
breach of the peace. A prison sentence in Waterbury, Con-
necticut, after conviction on a White Slave charge. Another
SCENE OF CRIME
In this rustic home a killer
went mad and vented his sex-
frustrated fury on a peace-
ful farmer and his bride.
stretch in Nassau County, New
York, following a_ burglary.
Terms in Sing Sing, Auburn,
Clinton prisons.
As he stood there, dark, and
she thought clean-cut, despite
the damning record, all that had passed did not matter to
her. Nothing mattered as her starved emotions cried out
for love and life.
Finally the trial ended and the jury found him guilty.
She heard Judge Black sentence him to seven years in Au-
burn prison,
And in the face of it all, she knew that he was her man.
Now she would live in real life, and write, the story she had
dreamed of for years.
Before they took him away, she went to his cell. There
was an understanding between them. And she went back
to her work and her writing, and waited for the time he
would be free again.
Le THE MONTHS that followed she wrote to him in
prison. Her letters told of the days ahead when he
would be paroled and they. would be married and find hap-
piness together. She worked harder than ever now, for
she had bought a little farm, deep in the woods of the Cat-
taraugus Hills she loved, where they would one day go to
live.
Five years passed and the day came when Farnsworth
was to be paroled. His record at Auburn and Clinton
prison, where he had been transferred, had been above re-
proach. And as he left the forbidding prison walls behind,
this time, forever, he told himself, he started back to Little
Valley and the woman he loved. ;
That was the first of August, 1934, and on the eighth
day of the same month, they were married.
Only their closest friends and relatives knew of the ro-
mance at first. ‘They went at once to the little farm in
Coldspring Township, where Harold would be away from
29
the temptations that had been his downfall in the past.
That fall Farnsworth was busy with the harvest from
which they would have stores for themselves and their stock
through the long, hard western New York winter that was
ahead. Mrs. Farnsworth purchased cattle and the little farm
began to show signs of prosperity. Daily, Farnsworth drove
their car to the creamery with milk.
In the circles in Salamanca, where Bernice had been
popular for many years, her romance was discussed. Her
friends shook their heads and said, “no good would come
of it’ But soon she was forgotten in the city. And Ber-
nice was glad to be forgotten. She was happy and she was
certain her experiment would work. She had faith in Har-
old, the faith of a woman who had been denied love for
fifty-two years, and who finally, had found it.
The winter came, and days when there was little out-
side work to do, Farnsworth read and Bernice wrote. She
was getting along rapidly with her story now. And the old
life held no allure for Harold. He was content to live in
the solitude of the little farm with Bernice and the great
love that had come to him.
And Bernice, as the weeks passed, wrote with an inspira-
tion she never before had felt. Bit by bit the chapters of
her story unfolded, just as she had dreamed they would.
But this dark-haired, smiling woman could not know that
already the hand of fate was writing the final chapter to
her romance; that the glorious ending she planned would
be replaced with stark, cruel tragedy.
x * OF
|" BENNETT WAS not the kind of a man who bothered him-
self about other pcople’s business, much less delving into
mysteries or discovering murders. As a matter of fact, he
never had discovered a murder in his life, and his thoughts
were farthest away from anything of the sort as he leaned
back from a piping-hot dinner and lit his friendly old pipe.
At the other end of the table William Whitmore, his hired
man, sat indolently dozing, and as Bennett looked at him,
the March wind, whistling across the flats between the bar-
ren hills, rattled the windows and reminded the grizzled
veteran of sixty years, of the near-zero weather outside.
“It’s pretty cold to work in the wood-lot this afternoon,
Bill,” Bennett finally said. ‘Guess you better hitch up the
team and take that wagon back over to Farnsworth’s place
before the road is blocked up again. There’s more snow
coming.”
Whitmore roused himself and pushed back his chair with a
grating squeak. Lazily, he walked to the kitchen, donned a
weather-beaten overcoat and cap, from the inside of which,
he pulled down fur-lined ear-muffs, drew on heavy leather
mittens and started for the barn.
Shortly, he was on the way to Farnsworth’s, a mile distant.
Occasionally, as the horses plodded through the creaking
snow, Whitmore dropped the lines and swung his arms
violently across his shoulders to restore circulation to his
cold-numbed fingers.
As he drove along, he talked in a monotone to himself.
“Funny,” he mused, “why a swell gal like her should pick
up with a no-good bum like him, if what they say is true.
Now take me f’rinstance. I’m honest and work steady and
would make her a good man. But no, she never had eyes for
my kind and we never thought she’d go for farmin’. But he
comes along and what happens?”
In his mind Whitmore considered the question for a brief
moment and answered it with a disgusted grunt.
“Never can tell about women these days.”
It was mid-afternoon when he pulled up at the lonely
farm. As he looked at the house and saw no smoke curling
up from the chimney, and then observed the broad expanse
of snow that had fallen four days before, and saw no tracks
of any kind in it, he seemed to be a little nervous. All was
bleak and desolate.
30
Cupping his hands to his mouth, Whitman stood up in the
sleigh to which the wagon, he himself, had come over here
less than a week ago to borrow, was attached, and shouted :
“Hello-o-o there !” .
A moment of silence and the echo reverberated from the
heavily wooded hills to the west.
Beside that, his only answer was the bawling of cattle.
He walked to the barn, where a dozen half-starved cows
nearly pushed down a gate as he approached. In their stalls,
a team of frantic horses snorted and pawed.
He started toward the house, then stopped with a nervous
shrug. There was something mysterious about this business
and he decided against further investigation alone. It took
him but a minute to unfasten the wagon from behind the
sleigh and to start back to his employer’s farm.
He found Bennett engaged in the first of the afternoon
chores.
“Somethin’ funny over to Farnsworth’s,” he announced
simply. “Nobody home and the cattle and horses bawlin’ for
food . . . looks like they hadn’t been fed for a week.”
Ira Bennett scattered the fork-full of straw in the horse’s
stall and looked inquiringly at Whitmore.
“Fimm, not like ’em to leave stock that-a-way. Guess we
better go over, Bill, and see what’s up... Maybe they’re sick.”
Whitmore looked disturbed at the prospect, but said
nothing.
Together the two men returned to Farnsworth’s, The
bawling of the cattle was resumed as they drove into the
yard. Bennett walked quickly to the barn through a blanket
of snow unmarked, except for Whitmore’s single track.
Then they went to the house. He knocked loudly on the
kitchen door. There was no response.
The early dusk of the long winter evening was settling
over the countryside as Bennett pushed open the unlocked
kitchen door and, followed by Whitmore, walked in. He
called to Farnsworth, but there was no response, only an
ominous silence through the cold, damp house.
Bennett moved gingerly toward the door into the living-
room. As he reached it, his tanned face turned pale in
horror. |
There, on the floor near a table, lay the body of Farns-
worth in a pool of frozen blood.
Bennett, collecting his wits and recovering his nerve as
quickly as possible, passed around the corpse and ran upstairs
in search of Mrs. Farnsworth, fearful of what he expected
to find. But he discovered nothing and had started down
again when a shout from Whitmore halted him in his tracks.
“My God, Ira, she’s down cellar.”
From the kitchen door, Bennett peered into the half-light
of the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, he made out
the ghastly outline of a human form sprawled on the floor.
It was that of a woman.
Visibly shaken at what they had seen, Bennett and Whit-
more hurriedly left the house of death and raced their horses
home. There, with voice trembling, Bennett telephoned the
sheriff’s office.
* ok
’ HAD BEEN a quict afternoon at the Cattaraugus County
jail office in Little Valley and Sheriff Lester Carlson was
glad of it, for it was a bitter cold day outside. So when the
telephone rang at seven o’clock that night, as he and the
jailer were visiting in the comfortable warmth of the big
room outside the cell-block, Carlson scowled.
“This is the sheriff speaking,” he drawled as he put the
receiver to his ear.
He listened silently a minute.
“Wait a minute... wait a minute,” he interrupted,
almost shouting into the phone to make himself heard.
“Take it casy and tell me all about it,” he said, when it
was evident the party on the other end of the line was
listening.
or money. Their tops had been pried
up and their contents disturbed, In the
kitchen were milk pails, unwashed, just
as they had been brought in from the
barn. There was no sign of the gun.
Searching the rest’ of the house, |
found the entire second floor in a state
of disarray. Bureau drawers had been
ransacked,
I wanted to question Tra Bennett, the
farmer, and William Whitmore, his hired
man. Whitmore, a thin, Janky indivi-
dual, had remained outside the house.
The latter explained to. me that Bennett
had sent him up to the Farnsworth farm
that morning about 10:30 o’clock to re-
turn a rack used on a sleigh for hauling
wood. He had left it leaning against
a post near the silo and driven away. As
he left he thought it odd there was no
sign of either Harold or Mrs. Farns-
worth about the place.
“Tt had snowed nearly all day Thurs-
day,” Whitmore explained, “but there
were no tracks up the road tothe Farns-
worth place since the snowstorm. And
there weren’t any tracks around the
honse. After T unloaded the wood rack
and put it against the post, I went. to
the barn and opened the door and called
to Farnsworth, but nobody answered.
The cows were bellowing, though, to
beat all. Anyhow, I drove on back home
and had my noon meal.”
Whitmore told me he kept thinking
it was strange no one seemed to be
around the Farnsworth place, and es-
pecially that there were no tracks up
the dead-end road. So he spoke to Ira
Bennett, his employer, about it, and
early in the afternoon they went back
to investigate.
‘They first went to the barn and found
that the cows and horses had had no
food or water for several days. At sight
of the two men the animals showed that
they were frantie from thirst and hun-
el
R MNNETT said that he immediately
* went to the house where he found
the wood-shed door standing wide open
and snow blown in by the wind and
heavy storm of Thursday. The kitchen
door leading from the wood-shed was
open a few inches. He called Whit-
more, who came, took one look and got
out of the house, saying he’d “had
enough.” Later, when Bennett found
the body of Mrs. Farnsworth in the
cellar, he persuaded Whitmore to come
in again and view it, by way of corrobo-
ration. Then Bennett went down to the
home of a neighbor, Ruel Wheeler, on
the main road and telephoned to my
home.
Bennett had sold the farm to Mrs.
Farnsworth late in August. She and her
husband had moved in on September Ist
although the deal was not closed until
several days later. I made a mental
note to look into this further to be cer-
tain there was no personal quarrel be-
tween Bennett and the Farnsworths
over the sale of the farm property.
Whitmore, I found, had worked about
a month for the Farnsworths and had
even lived in the house with them. He
had done some work in repairing the
house and was in a position to know it
thoroughly. I sensed somehow that he
had no very high opinion of the dead
man. But he had been working steadily
for Bennett since he had left the Farns-
worths.
Carefully studying the environs of the
house and barns I discovered the faint
footprints of a man, They had evidently
been made during the storm on Thurs-
day and were partly obliterated by the
snow that fell later in the evening. They
told me plainly, however, that he had
circled the house and had looked in some
of thé windows. Unluckily the foot-
prints were a slim clue because none of
them were sharp enough to indicate
anything definite as to size or style of
shoe.
I left strict orders that nothing was
to be touched or disturbed until photo-
graphs had been taken and a fingerprint
expert had had a chance to do his work.
As I walked to the farm home of Ruel -
Wheeler to telephone to Elmer A. Lee,
fingerprint expert of the Jamestown, N.
Y., Police Department, I met District
Attorney A. Edward Kreiger and Elmer
W. Miller, his special investigator. I told
them what I knew about the case and
hurried on to Wheeler's house.
Distriet Attorney Kreiger, an excep-
tionally keen prosecutor, had_ already
telephoned for Sylvester B. Nodler, a
commercial photographer of Olean, N.
Y., to come at once. We wanted the
fingerprint expert and the photographer
to get to work as soon as possible, It
seemed likely that we might find finger-
prints on the axe and the metal boxes.
I then drove on to Randolph to find
out whether any suspicious characters
had been seen in the neighborhood. On
the face of it this looked like a killing
for the purpose of robbery. .With the
Farnsworth house hidden from the view
of neighbors and of people traveling the
main road in this hilly back-country, it
would be easy for a robber to gain access
to the place. I learned that a summer
camp had been broken into a few days
before on a back road a few miles from
the Farnsworth place. From this loca-
tion marauders could have approached
the Farnsworth home along the back
road. It would have been easy for the
criminal or criminals to have committed
their double murder, robbed the Farns-
worth house and retreated the way they
came without being seen by neighbors
or by any one on the main road.
Back at the Farnsworth place I found
the photographer, Nodler, on the job
(Left) Dr. M. L. Hillsman, who
performed autopsies on the bodies
of the victims. (Right) Former
Under-Sheriff Leone B. Pickup,
the co-author, points to spots
marked by white cloths where two
milk cans were found, flung away
by the murderer in his mad flight
MASTER DETECTIVE
and
ing
work
recti¢
Lee \
no o!
The !
duste:
none :
Shc
rived
Ira Li
was n
N.Y.
han’s
where
car wl!
not 1)
crime
in th
viet:
Qu
ager
Dain
wher
dairy
tims
milk
o’clor
That
property.
irked about
hs and had
them. He
pairing the
. to know it
iow that he
of the dead
king steadily
‘t the Farns-
ivirons of the
‘red the faint
had evidently
m on Thurs-
‘rated by the
vening. They
that he had
soked in some
ily the foot-
ause none of
to indicate
e or style of
nothing was
until photo-
a fingerprint
do his work.
nome of Ruel -
imer A. Lee,
mestown, N.
inet District
r and Elmer
igator. I told
ihe ease and
use,
‘yr, an excep-
had already
13. Nodler, a
of Olean, N.
wanted the
photographer
possible. It
it find finger-
metal boxes.
lolph to find
is. characters
vorhood. On
like a killing
With the
rom the view
traveling the
‘k-country, it
to gain aeceess
sit a summer
ya few days
w miles from
om this loca-
» approached
ng the back
easy for the
ve committed
«4 the Farns-
the way they
by neighbors
in road.
piace I found
* on the job
iman, who
the bodies
) Former
3. Pickup,
to spots
where two
jung away
mad flight
\STER DETECTIVE
and Detective Lee of Jamestown, wait-
ing for the former to complete his
work. They were under the personal di-
rection of District Attorney Kreiger.
Lee was watching carefully to see that
no one touched the two metal boxes.
The handle of the axe had already been
dusted in the hunt for fingerprints, but
none had been found. ;
Sheriff Carlson had by this time ar-
rived from Olean and we learned from
Ira Bennett that the Farnsworths’ car
was not in the barn. The number was
N. Y. 3H-7113. I made a trip to Houli-
- han’s garage, in near-by Steamburg,
where the Farnsworths usually took the
car when it needed repairing, but it was
not there. Whoever had committed the
crime had evidently made his getaway
in the Chevrolet coupé owned by the
victims.
Questioning of Alfred Carpenter, man-
ager of the plant of the Queensboro
Dairy Products Company at Steamburg,
where the milk from the Farnsworth
dairy was sold, revealed that the last
time Harold Farnsworth had delivered
milk at this plant was at about seven
o’clock Tuesday morning, March 5th.
That was the last time that any one
had seen Harold Farnsworth alive and
this tended to fix the time of the mur-
derous assault at more than three days
before.
While it was customary for those who
supplied milk to the Queensboro plant
to deliver it each morning, Farnsworth
occasionally missed days. As a result
the milk plant employees were not un-
duly disturbed when he failed to appear
on Wednesday, Thursday wid Friday
mornings.
No one had seen either of the Farns-
worths after delivery of the milk at the
plant early Tuesday morning. Fred
Houlihan, the garage proprietor, spoke
of the farmer coming to his garage on
Monday. Ilis wife had remained in their
ear at the curb.
“Fred, their hired man, ‘is sitting
here in the garage at the © me,” said
Houlihan.
“Fred who?” [ asked. “Who was this
hired man?”
“T never knew him by any other name
than Fred,” said Houlihan. “Ife awas
around the garage for a while Monday
afternoon.”
We learned from Houlihan ‘iat Farns-
worth had come into the «arage and
talked with Fred, asking him if he
wanted to ride back to the jarm. Fred
said that he would walk, for he needed
the exercise.
“ & FTER, a while,” said Houlihan, “the
farmer went out of the garage and
to a near-by store. Fred talked with
Mrs. Farnsworth in the car. Her hus-
band came back with two packages of
tobacco. He gave one of them to Fred
and kept one for himself. hen the
‘Farnsworths drove away in the direction
of their farm. Fred did not go with them,
but in a few minutes he walked away.”
We wondered who this “Fred” might
be and where he was at this particular
time. There was nothing about the con-
versation Houlihan had recounted 1o
throw suspicion on any one. But, if the
Farnsworths had a hired man, why bad
he not reported the double murder? Had
the assailants murdered him also and
disposed of his body elsewhere, perhays
in the barn?
Back at the Farnsworth place Ira
Bennett remembered that the hired
man’s name was Lindsay. He thought
the first name was Alfred. Lindsay
had been around the Farnsworth
place for two or three months. Ben-
nett was under the impression that
Farnsworth and Lindsay had known
each other for some time. From Bennett
and Houlihan we got a fairly good ce-
scription of the hired man.
With this description as well as the
registration number of the Farnswortis’
coupé, Lieutenant George and I drove
to Randolph. There the Lieutenant tele-
phoned to his outpost at Friendship and
ordered the information put on ihe
State Troopers’ teletype system.
The next few hours were spent in
questioning neighbors who lived on the
main road not far from the Farnsworth
house. I learned nothing of consequence
until I came to Nora Moynihan, who
lived alone on a 46-acre farm near the
corner where the dirt road turned off to
the Farnsworth house.
nr
; Ete xt
We learned that Miss Moynihan had
often seen Lindsay, the hired man,
having first met him when she had
called on the Farnsworths the Friday
before Christmas. She and Mrs. Farns-
worth were old friends and, after the
bride moved there, Miss Moynihan
sometimes baked bread and other food-
stuff for her. In exchange for a bob-
sled the neighbor owned, Farnsworth
and Lindsay had spent four days cutting
down a maple tree for her and sawing it
into stove wood.
On a Sunday in February Miss Moyni-
han had spent the afternoon at the
Farnsworth home. Lindsay was there,
she said, but he had had little to say.
Once he had soldered a milk can for her.
On Monday, March 4th, the farmer
and his wife had come to her place in
their coupé, Miss Moynihan explained,
and had brought her three cans of water
from their spring. They had then gone
on to Steamburg. About an hour later
she had seen Lindsay come down the
hill, carrying a paper shopping bag. She
was outside the house when he came
along and joked with her, accompanying
her into her house. .
Miss Moynihan noticed the collar of
a clean blue shirt near the top of the
bag and she spoke about it. Lindsay said
he had had an argument with Mrs.
Farnsworth and was quitting his job
there. He stated that when they were
40
getting ready to drive to Steamburg
that morning, the farmer had told him
that he wanted to take a wagon axle to
the village blacksmith to get it fixed.
Farnsworth was in the barn when his
wife came out of the house to join them
and Lindsay went to the barn door to
remind him to bring the axle.
RS. FARNSWORTH demanded to
know what they were talking about,
thinking Lindsay had called something
to her husband about her that was un-
complimentary. Her tone was sharp and
he answered her curtly saying, so he had
told Miss Moynihan, that Harold was
after the axle, he supposed, as that was
what he went into the barn for. Mrs.
Farnsworth had warned him not to be
impertinent, that sne owned that farm
and demanded that he treat her with
respect.
So Lindsay said he was not going back
to the Farnsworth house and did_not
know where he was going. He fed Miss
Moynihan’s cows and later nailed a
board on the barn for her. She had
given him lunch and then he had walked
in the direction of Steamburg.
Later in the day the Farnsworths had
returned and taken Miss Moynihan to
Cain’s, a neighbor, for a can of oil. She
had told the Farnsworths about Lind-
say stopping at her place and that she
had fed him at noon, whereupon he left
(Above) Harold C. Farnsworth,
the second victim. (Left) Wil-
liam Whitmore (holding plough)
and his employer, Ira Bennett.
. Attracted by the bellowing of
hungry, neglected animals at the
Farnsworth farm, they made an
investigation and gave the alarm
and said he was not coming back. Mrs.
Farnsworth had spoken about their
argument and admitted that she had
been a little hasty. Farnsworth told Miss
Moynihan about seeing Lindsay in
Steamburg. He said he thought the
hired man would come back, but just
wanted to be coaxed to do so.
Further questioning of Miss Moyni-
han revealed that Lindsay returned late
that afternoon and stopped again at her
house. She asked him if he were going
back to the Farnsworths and he shook
his head emphatically. He milked her
cows, watered and fed them, and she
gave him supper. At about 7:30 o’clock
in the evening, he left, going in the di-
rection of Steamburg and that was the
last she saw of him.
As much for his own sake as for the
clearing up of the case, it was impera-
tive that we find Lindsay without delay.
It was unthinkable that a minor dis-
agreement of the nature described by
Miss Moynihan would cause a man to
commit a double murder. If we could
trace his movements that Monday night
and during the succeeding days, we
might learn something that would solve
the mystery.
Late on Friday afternoon, the bodies
were removed and autopsies were per-
formed by Dr. Marshall L. Hillsman.
But, before they were disturbed, a series
of photographs had been made relating
MASTER DETECTIVE
to the crime;
. engineer of Sa
measurements
ing diagrams
of the scene
tive Lee, th
carefully stu
house that m
assailant.
Detective
prints on th
pokers or the
the two me!
powder plain
on both of t!
real finds, cai
and contents
taken photog
by the powc
In follow:
robbery m:)
found that :
drawn $137
Trust Comp:
account was
continued Ww
Bernice Ken):
her husband
on the same
Randolph, a
names of Har
In this new
$130.
A checkup
suspicious cl
We found th:
eated summe
into there wa
had approac
from the abe
road. And th
of the parti:
snow around
We had be
four loaves 0
found on th
house: leadin:
the kitchen.
on the door.
thrust upric’
the bread
broom hand
Further q
han reveale:
asked her t:
and have t!
day, the it
did not call
Moynihan :
Wednesday
time she tox
hill to the !
the outer \
]
‘into the kit
self had hi
the broom
of reach oi
Miss Mo:
did this af
the door an
by name, :
hanging the
gone aroun
and called
ceived no ar
She then
window but
she saw wa
folded upor
her view in
returned to
avGusT, 1930
Mrs.
their
» had -
i Miss
isay in
vht the
hut just
\Moyni-
ned late
‘nat her
re going
1e shook
iiked her
and she
0 o'clock
n the di-
+ was the
is for the
3 impera-
out, delay.
ninor dis-
eribed by
i man to
we could
day night
days, we
ould solve
the bodies
were per-
Hillsman.
l, a series
» relating
DETECTIVE
to the crime; Clifford C. Cheney, a civil
-engineer of Salamanca, N. Y., had taken
measurements in preparation for draw-
ing diagrams and preparing blueprints
of the scene of the crime; and Detec-
tive Lee, the fingerprint expert, had
carefully studied all articles in the
house that might eventually identify the
assailant.
Detective Lee failed to find finger-
prints on the axe handle, the stove
pokers or the knife, but the dusting of
the two metal boxes with aluminum
powder plainly brought out fingerprints
on both of them. We regarded these as
real finds, carefully preserving the boxes
and contents after Detective Lee had
taken photographs of the prints revealed
by the powder. ..
In following up the possibility that
robbery may have been a motive, I
found that Mrs. Farnsworth had with-
drawn $137.85 from the Salamanca
Trust Company on February 25th. This
account was an old one that she had
continued under her maiden name of
Bernice Kenyon. But I also learned that
her husband had opened a new account
on the same day in the State Bank of
Randolph, a joint account under the
names of Harold or Bernice Farnsworth.
In this new account he had deposited
$130.
A checkup on Saturday on reports of
suspicious characters led us nowhere.
We found that although a remotely lo-
cated summer camp had been broken
into there was no evidence that any one
had approached the Farnsworth house
from the abandoned portion of the dirt
road. And there was still no explanation
of the partially-revealed tracks in the
snow around the house.
We had been puzzled by the fact that
four loaves of bread in a container were
found on the door of the Farnsworth
house: leading from the woodshed_ into
the kitchen. There was a leather handle
on the door. A broom handle had been
thrust upright through this handle and
the bread container hung upon the
broom handle.
Further questioning of Nora Moyni-
han revealed that Mrs. Farnsworth had
asked her to bake four loaves of bread
and have them ready for her on Tues-
day, the 5th. When Mrs. Farnsworth
did not call for them on Tuesday, Miss
Moynihan said that she waited until
Wednesday afternoon, the 6th. At that
time she took the bread and climbed the
hill to the Farnsworth house. She found
the outer woodshed door open, but that
-into the kitchen was closed and she her-
self had hung the bread container over
the broom handle to keep the food out
of reach of dogs.
Miss Moynihan stated that she only
did this after knocking repeatedly on
the door and calling to Mrs. Farnsworth
by name, getting no response. After
hanging the bread on the door, she had
gone around to the front of the house
and called Mrs. Farnsworth, but re-
ceived no answer. = _
She then went and looked through a
window but steadfastly declared that all
she saw was a table with a lunch cloth
folded upon it. The table obstructed
her view into the room. Then she had
returned to her own home. It was not
avcust, 1939
until Friday afternoon that Ira Bennei'
had discovered the bodies after finding
the kitchen door open.
Three days later—Sunday morning,
March 10th—Bennett made another dis-
covery. While driving up the dirt road
to the Farnsworth place, accompanied
by William Fargo, a neighbor, his eve
caught sight of two milk cans which had
apparently been tossed in the woods.
A theory that developed on this find
was that Lindsay had committed the
crime, taken the Farnsworths’ coupé and
fled, hurriedly throwing the milk cans
out of the coupé halfway down to the
main road. Or perhaps he had come
upon their bodies after the murderous
assaults and had fled in terror, fearing
trouble for himself.
N this same day that the milk cans
were discovered, I had to leave for
North Carolina to bring back # prisoner.
Besides Sheriff Carlson and several
deputies, District Attorney A. Edward
Kreiger had worked on the case from
the discovery of the crime. Lieutenant
George and other State Troopers con-
tinued to cooperate. I went south with
the fervent hope that the teletype broad-
cast, giving the car number and the de-
tailed description of the hired man, Al-
fred J. Lindsay, would bring results
within the next few days.
We had, fortunately, been able to
place on the teletype an excellent de-
scription of this man whom neighbors
knew as Fred. With this information
was the unusual fact that on the back of
Lindsay’s right hand a pig had been
tattooed standing on a line that was
almost even with the knuckles. Above
the pig were further tattoo marks of a
crescent moon and stars. On the backs
of the fingers of his left hand were tat-
tooed letters spelling out the words
“TRUE LOVE.”
We later learned that on Saturday
afternoon, March 9th, when Inspector
Michael F. McDermott in charge of the
Third Detective District, New York
City, went to his office at 150 West 68th
Street, he read the teletype message,
carrying the description of Lindsay,
with keen interest. Inspector MeDermott
noted that the description was nearly
the same as that of another Linds:y,
who was wanted for burglary in his own
district.
Detectives Walter Clancy and Notheis
were assigned to the case by Inspector
McDermott and continued their investi-
gations through Saturday, Sunday snd
Monday. In the meantime, the missing
coupé, formerly driven by Farnsworth
and his wife, was found standing in front
of 983 Columbus Avenue, in New York
City. Patrolmen on the beat had
ported the car standing there sive
Wednesday, March 6th.
It seemed likely that the hired m:n,
Lindsay, might be staying with fricuds
in the neighborhood. While eating ii 1
restaurant on Broadway at 43rd Str. ot,
New York City, the two detectives
noticed a man enter who answered ‘he
description of Lindsay. He wore gloves
so they could not see whether he had
the identifying tattoo marks. But, just
before he began to eat, he shoved his
hands out of sight under the table and
(Above) Alfred J. Lindsay, the
Farnsworths’ hired man, who quit
his job shortly before the tragedy
removed his gloves. A few minutes later
Detectives Clancy and Notheis were.
electrified to see on his right hand the
tattoo marks of the pig. They were un-
able to get a good look at the left hand.
When he left the restaurant they fol-
reiga for several blocks before stopping
im.
“Is your name MeGowan?” asked
Clancy.
“No,” came the sullen answer.
“You look very much like a man we
want in the vice investigation,” Clancy
went on. “Where do you come from?”
“Tower Massachusetts.”
“Well, what is your name?”
“Flynn.”
“You'd better come with us to the sta-
tion house.”
The man remonstrated but Clancy in-
sisted. “We have some one there who
ean identify you,” said the detective.
“Not me,” replied the stranger, “be-
cause my name isn’t McGowan.”
Much against his wishes “Flynn” was
persuaded to come along. The three men
took a taxi to the office of Inspector
MeDermott. This was about five o’clock
Monday afternoon, March 11th.
“What is your name?” asked Inspector
MeDermott.
“Flynn,” replied the man, hesitantly.
“Ts that really your true name?”
“No, my name is Lindsay,” said the
(Continued on page 65)
4l
paced
4 ERR aeN t ise ame ALS
eh
Washington’s No. 1 Murder Mystery
(continued from page 43)
lake, near Siencicaia’ home.
Divers dipped the sonar device into
the water to see if the sensitive sound
waves would locate the bodies. They
had no luck and planned to stop late
Monday night November 14th. ‘‘We
decided to give it one more try,”’ said
Chief Blaricom. ‘‘After that we were,
going to give up.”’
Then, as divers searched an area 300
feet from the lake’s eastern shore, near
a local resort, the sonar picked up two
objects 75 feet down on the lake bed
floor.
Divers plunged into the icy depths
to investigate and discovered the
relatively well preserved bodies of
Gary and Laurie Crabtree. Laurie was
zippered into a sleeping bag with her
neck chained to a cement block.
Gary’s body was wrapped in chains
and also secured by cement blocks.
The victims were so heavily weighed
that two teams of divers were needed
to raise them to the surface.
The bodies were taken to the King
County Coroner’s Office where me-
dical examiner Dr. Donald Reay
identified the corpses as the missing
couple. He said Gary had died from a
gunshot wound to the head, while
Laurie died of strangulation.
Though police feel they have solved
the case, they are still puzzled how
evidence surfaced in the case months
after the initial investigation by
Lynnwood police.
It is conceivable that detectives
overlooked the bloodstains, ‘shell
casing and bone fragments found in
the search of the Crabtree house in
September.
But this does not explain the ‘‘wad’’
of human hair found on the office
chair, the discovery of the brass key
ring and ticket stub in the Lincoln
Continental, or the mysterious phone
call from ‘‘Randy’’ linking Gary to the
New Year’s day marijuana bust in
Redmond.
“It is a puzzler,’’ admits Chief
Senior Deputy Prosecutor Robert
Lasnik, who will try the case. ‘‘We
have some ideas, but some of the
things we may never be able to
explain.”’
Meanwhile, David Simmons and
‘Billy’? Dailey are behind bars, serving -
time for the appliance store robbery.
They have plenty of time to think
about the young couple that was fished
out of Lake Sammamish, and to worry
about the lawmen who are actively
preparing the case.
As of this writing, no charges have
been filed in the Crabtree case. By law,
they must be considered innocent of
any involvement in the bizarre murder
case, until such time that a court of
‘law decides otherwise.
Riddle Of The Floating Horror
(continued from page 18)
and noting that dental work had been
done, George removed the head for
aid in identification. The rest of the
body was buried in the local cemetery.
From the pockets of the corpse, Dr.
George had extracted a spoon (which
would tell a tale), three rusty needles
in a needlecase, paper with figures
concerning bushels of corn on it, and
a pencil.
The pockets and labels of one of the
coats were homemade. Finally, the
victim’s toes were found to be wrapped
with faded calico cloth identical to that
found in a pocket. Carpenter gathered
these items safely together where they
would receive careful studies by the
authorities.
Dr. William W. Perkins, a dentist
who had practiced in Baldwinsville for
25 years, examined the teeth in the
head and made the first identification.,
His findings were rapidly verified by;
the authorities with their ‘‘pocket’’;
evidence. The body was that of Francis
‘*Frank’’ Colvin, a man with no family;
or relatives who local people believed
had gone to work ‘‘in the city’’ some
six months before.
Dr. Perkins would testify in court
later that he had known Frank Colvin
for 19 or 20 years and judged his age
as between 30 and 35 years. Five or
six years before, he had extracted five
“or six teeth and made Colvin an
44
artificial plate. He studied the teeth:
remaining in the rotted head (others
were found in the windpipe) and noted
that the precise teeth he had earlier
removed were missing. More conclu-
sively, Colvin had ‘‘a deformity in the
natural growth of the teeth;’’precisely,
there were pits across the front of the
teeth reaching through the enamel.
‘‘The bone was denuded and the
condition,’’ the dentist explained,
“*was very unique.”’
To emphasize his point, Perkins
pulled some of the victim’s teeth from
his pocket and showed them to a
squeamish court.
Francis Colvin, about 35, was
unmarried and without family or
relatives to report him missing. He
-served honorably in the Civil War,
received a discharge at the end of his
first enlistment, then reenlisted and
served in the heat of the battle until
the conclusion of the conflict. Return-
ing to his home, he lived in a shack in
the woods, attending to his own
cooking, sewing, and other needs. He
did not trust banks, and carried a large
sum of money with him at all times.
A wartime buddy, John Pickford,
invited Colvin to move in with him and
his wife.:Colvin gratefully accepted,
and was living there at the time of his
disappearance, although he was
temporarily boarding at the Daniel
Linsdays where he held his last job in
the area. -
As soon as the corpse was tentatively
identified from its teeth by Dr. Perk-
ins, the authorities visited the Pick-
fords with the items removed from the
pockets of the dead man. This addi-
tional evidence let to positive identi-
fication.
Mrs. Pickford recognized the three
needles in their case, which were
removed from the coat pocket, as
Colvin’s; the spoon was one of a set
of three used by the victim to take
medicine; and Mrs. Bickford was well
acquainted with the coat pockets,
which she had made in October, 1873,
and also the coat lapels which she had
sewed on when Colvin complained of
snow running down his neck.
Colvin was 5’10’’ tall. So was the
corpse. And, conclusively, Mrs.
Pickford identified the faded calico
found around the dead man’s toes and
in its pocket as material she had given
Frank Colvin. His toes rubbed
together, compelling Colvin to wrap
them in cloths in order to prevent
chaffing.
Who would want to murder this
likeable, hard-working man of simple
wants and no enemies? The question
flitted about the small community
where every person’s activities were all
too well known to his neighbors.
Suspicion quickly fell on Bishop
Vader. ‘‘Bish’’ Vader was a bit of a
dullard. He was easily led and
(continued on next page)
at
influenced, an insensitive man unper-
turbed by the passions, rattles, and
horrors as he blithely passed through
life’s hills and val’~ys.
This peculiarty dense man had
drawn attention to himself by selling
mortgages, assigned to him by the
murdered Colvin, to local people.
While it had been assumed that
Colvin, often on the move and with
no one to come home to, had merely
upped stakes and moved, as Vader
claimed, the latter’s possession of the
assigned mortgages had aroused no
great suspicion. But when Frank
Colvin turned up dead with his skull
hideously fractured, Bish Vader
became a prime suspect. Discovered
with some of Colvin’s papers still on
his person, Vader was placed under
arrest on Tuesday, June 23, 1873.
Vader immediately implicated
another local man, Duane Peck, who
in his past had served prison time. An
indignant and infuriated Peck was
escorted to the jail where he angrily
confronted Vader. Peck laid such a
verbal onslaught upon the dull-witted
Vader that the latter finally admitted
the implication was a complete
fabrication. Peck stalked from the jail,
completely cleared of any wrongdoing.
Vader pondered slowly over the
situation in his jail cell and finally
summoned the authorities. Then he
reluctantly admitted the following to
his jailers: ‘‘I promised I would not. |
don’t want to. I said I would not. I do
not want to tell, but still if it is right I
should, I must say that the man that
did that deed was Owen Linsday.’’
‘*Why then, Mr. Vader, why then
did you lay this on to Peck?”’
‘Because it was a part of our
agreement; it was a part we had agreed
upon; it was what I had been told to
do.’’
Ah, the community seemed to nod.
Owen Linsday was a horse of a
different color, the bright and
articulate, even crafty, son of a
prosperous and reputable local farmer,
Daniel Linsday. Vader, his wife, and
their 10-year old child lived with
Daniel Linsday. Vader worked. there
as a general farmhand and his wife was
the housekeeper.
Owen Linsday and Bish Vader had
known each other all their lives, the
latter growing up under the cunning
influence of the former. Owen had
been like a father to Vader since he
was a boy and Bish had lived for years
with Owen Linsday and his family.
When Owen said ‘‘jump,’’ Bish
leaped.
Owen Linsday was arrested shortly
after 4 p.m..on June 26, 1874, by
Constable and Carpenter and Deputy
Sheriff Dewitt C. Toll, sharing charges
for the murder of Frank Colvin. The
weaker Vader quickly turned state’s
evidence and recounted the details of
the murder in a curiously detached and
bland manner.
Around the first of December, 1873,
Bish Vader and his family were living
with the man Vader called ‘‘Uncle
Dan,’’ Owen Linsday’s father. Frank
Colvin also worked there at the time;
both were general farmhands.
One day, while Frank Colvin was
husking corn in a field and Vader was
working in the barn, Owen Linsday
came by and asked the latter if he
knew how much money Colvin carried
around with him. Colvin’s distrust of
banks and his long-range plans to
make a substantial investment in a
western homestead were general
knowledge.
Vader shook his head and grunted
in the negative. Obtusely, he had no
curiosity regarding the question even
though he knew Owen Linsday was
deeply pressed by creditors. ‘‘I wish,’’
asked Linsday, ‘‘that you would find
out.’’ A simple wish; an impetling
command to Vader.
The occasion to obtain this infor-
mation came about naturally. Colvin
discussed his future plans with Vader
and disclosed that between his cash
and the notes he held, he was worth
some $3,000. Bish Vader relayed the
information to the avaricious Linsday
and Colvin’s fate was sealed.
Linsday suggested that the two rob
Colvin and do away with him. For
once, Vader seemed to think over his
friend’s suggestion before he acted.
Vader declined the invitation: Linsday
made a counter offer. ‘‘You keep still,
then, and I will pay you well for it.’’
Vader wavered; this seemed a reason-
able offer.
On Saturday, Dec. 13, 1873, his time
normally up, Colvin agreed to extend
his labors on the farm, cleaning oats
at 50 cents a day. On Monday, Vader
and Colvin started working on the
oats. On the 18th, as Vader was
drawing the last load of oats to
Baldwinsville, he encountered Owen
Linsday along the way. Linsday said
he would ‘‘do the deed’’ while Colvin
and Vadet were milking the cows in
the barn early the next morning.
‘“*Meet me and do as I say,’’ he
finished. Aware of Vader’s mental
torpitude, Linsday would only unfold
his plans as they were implemented,
one at a time. .
Colvin was paid two dollars that
evening for his four day’s work on the
oats. He again would have left, had
not Daniel Linsday, in all innocence,
talked him into staying longer. This
sealed Colvin’s fate.
Frank Colvin and Bishop Vader got
up at five the next morning, December
19. They ate and trudged out to the
barn to milk the nine cows, each
starting from opposite sides. Their
labors were illuminated by a flickering
lamp on a shelf between them, eerily
creating moving shadows. From one
of these dark blotches, behind Vader,
death lurked, axe in hand. Colvin,
facing his cow, went about his work,
all unaware.
Owen Linsday crept from his dark
hiding place, motioning the watching
and mute Vader to be quiet. He
stalked behind the unsuspecting
Colvin, raised the axe, and dealt the
victim a tremendous blow upon the
head. Colvin gave a slight moan and
fell over on his side. The axe raised,
now reversed with the blunt end down,
descended again, and the deed was
done. Vader watched impassively.
Linsday rifled through Colvin’s
pockets and extracted $2,000 in cash
and mortgage notes worth another
thousand dollars. Then the two men
dragged the body upstairs into the
hayloft, where it was buried under hay
throughout the day. Owen Linsday
instructed Vader to tell Daniel, his
father, that Colvin had decided not to
remain on the farm, but instead had
gone to the city for work.
Linsday gave Vader $500 of the
victim’s money, plus two watches and
the mortgage papers. While the others
ate their breakfast sometime later,
Vader answered Daniel Linsday’s
expected query about Colvin’s absen-
ce, dutifully responding that Frank had
gone to the city to see about a job.
This was in keeping with Colvin’s
uncommitted life and no further
questions were raised.
Following Owen Linsday’s further
instructions, Vader rented a boat that
afternoon and rowed it to a prear-
ranged spot on the Seneca River. It
was so cold that the woman who
rented him the boat gave Vader a
kettle of hot water with which to thaw
the ice from the oars.
Securing the boat, Vader then hid
in a shed opposite Daniel Linsday’s
house until Owen finally came by at
10 p.m. with his team drawing a sleigh.
(continued on next page)
45
Riddle Of The Floating Horror
(continued from page 45)
The two went to the barn and,
retrieving the body from the loft,
brought it down by the sleigh to the
waiting boat.
Linsday secured heavy stones about
the dead man’s neck and feet, securing
them with harness straps obtained
from the barn. Pushing the boat out
into the river, they slid the body into
the deepest part. It sank immediately.
Had not the stone around the neck
worked loose, they would perhaps
have committed.a perfect crime.
The question of how to dispose of
the mortgage’ notes now came up.
Linsday had given the matter’ consi-
derable thought, Vader only the
vaguest. Linsday had earlier suggested
that Colvin’s signature should be
forged to the notes and signed over to
Vader, but this procedure had to be
done in person before an unsuspecting
lawyer. :
The simple-minded Vader suggested
that he would merely go into Baldwins-
ville and handle the transaction. The
smarter Linsday was aghast; both
Colvin and Vader were well-known in
the small hamlet, and it would be
impossible for Vader to assume the
identity of the victim.
“‘Take the mortgages to Syracuse,
where you are not known,” instructed
Linsday. ‘‘Find a lawyer, tell him you
are Colvin and wish to sign the
mortgage papers over to Bishop
Vader.”’
“*It seems to me,”’ protested Vader,
“‘that we are going to get found out,’’
*‘Never happen,’’ assured Owen
Linsday. ‘‘If anything occurs, lay it
on to Duane Peck. He has served time
in prison and will be an easy suspect.”
And sure enough, all seemed to go
according to Owen Linsday’s plans.
Vader completed the mortgage assign-
ments in Syracuse without incident,
sold some at a discount for their true
value, and went on a spending spree.
Neither his wife nor the community
questioned the whereabouts of Frank
Colvin or the legality of the mortgage
transactions. No one challenged
Vader’s sudden wealth. Even Linsday
paid off his own impatient creditors
without arousing suspicion.
But six months later, when the
bloated remains of what had been
Colvin rose to the surface of the river
and were identified, Vader would fast
become the prime suspect because of
the forged mortgage papers. If the two
46
had settled for the cash alone, they
might have escaped suspicion; their
greed did them in.
Bishop Vader and Owen Linsday
were arraigned on October 16, 1874,
and pleaded not guilty. The trial of
Owen Linsday began in the Circuit
Court and Court of Oyer and Termi-
ner on January 26, 1875. The Hon.
George A. Hardin presided. The
counsel for the prisoners were Messrs.
Hunt & Weaver, Frank Hiscock, and
Charles B. Sedgwick. For the People,
District Attorney William James,
former District Attorney W.P.
Goodelle, and W.C. Ruger.
Even though Bish Vader was some-
what of a dullard, insensitive enough
to witness the bloody axe murder of
his friend without emotion, he
nevertheless managed to generate mo-
ments of unintentional humor during
the trial of Owen Linsday. From the
trial record:
Q. How often had you seen
Owen Linsday there...?
A. Well, he was there quite
often; sometimes oftener than
others.
‘ Q. How many times did he go
out to the barn?
A. He went out there quite often;
sometimes oftener than others,
Q. How many times a day?
A. Well, sometimes he would go
more than others.
During the trial, one of the witnesses —
swore he had entered his wife’s
birthday in the family Bible in 1833.
When it was pointed out the Bible was
published in 1845, he was immediately
arrested for perjury. —
During Linsday’s trial, the defense
attorneys flatly called Vader a liar,
trying to deprive the Linsdays of their
son; Linsday’s family from their
father.
From the defense’s opening state-
ment, in flowery Victorian prose: '
_ This was a quiet, happy home, in
the town of Van Buren, in this county,
in the opening of the winter of ’73-4.
The old couple had enjoyed for many
years the happiness of their quiet
home. They had trusted Bishop Vader
for a time to help about their premises.
We say that, at this time, a serpent
glided into that happy family where
the old couple (the Daniel Linsdays)
had, during the winter evenings, sat
side by side with their hair fast
bleaching to the whiteness of the snow-
flakes falling without; the mother, no
doubt, looking through the vista of
years departed, thinking of the time
when that son (Owen Linsday) in his
infancy, had nestled in her arms, an
innocent child. The father too,
perhaps, thinking of that infant son
when in his earlier years, returning
from his toil, he had dandled the boy
upon his knee.
We say that into this happy home
this serpent (Bishop Vader) had glided
and not only stained these premises
with the blood of his victim, Frank
Colvin, but is now seeking with all his
powers to remove from these aged
parents their only son.
We shall show you that the story of
Bishop Vader is an entire fiction...
with lying, honeyed words, this man
(Bishop Vader) was pursuing Frank
Colvin day after day, to find out the
little secrets of his hidden store...
The jury didn’t buy it.
Despite this and other impassioned
pleas, and after 6 1/2 hours of
deliberation, the jury found Owen
Linsday guilty of murder in the first
degree. He was sentenced by Judge
Hardin to be ‘‘hanged by the neck
until you are dead, dead, DEAD, on
March 26, 1875.’’ Justice was prompt
a century ago.
And the two fishermen in their quest
for an unusual catch? They caught a
murderer.
TRUE POLICE CASES, JUNE
» 198h.
| THERIDDLE OFTHE FLOATING HORROR
by CURT NORRIS
in New York, hideous, bloated, and concealed from view by scant feet of sparkling’
F or six months the hooded thing floated just beneath the surface of the Seneca River
river water. It had lurked there, within the boundaries of Baldwinsville, since De-
cember 19, 1873. Now, on the dusky evening of Monday, June 22, 1874, a weight slipped
and the horror rose to the surface.
This chanced to be the evening
A CRIME
CLASSIC
selected by local fishermen Charles
Frazier and Joseph Homan to catch
something special. They would. The
two men fished about a mile and a half
west of the village, gliding with the
current and then rowing to more
promising spots. During their wander-
ings, they came across what they
assumed to be a pile of old clothing
floating in the river.
As they passed around it, a strong
stench assailed their nostrils and
aroused their suspicions. Grabbing the
bundle, the fishermen discovered it
concealed a human body. They
attempted to move the object to shore
but found the task impossible.
Something anchored the loathsome
mass in place.
Drawing their boat upon the shore
in haste, the two rushed to the Village
of Baldwinsville. They found Consta-
ble William L. Carpenter and brought
him back to the scene of the discovery
A contemporary drawing shows discoverers pulling the de-
composed corpse from its watery grave.
When skull was retrieved, large
chunks dropped out, testimo-
ny to crime’s extreme violence.
Owen Linsday as he was
sketched from a photograph
made shortly before he.
was hanged.
as the sun was setting. By this time, a
small group of men had assembled on
the banks of the river watching the
offensive object rise and fall in the
water.
The constable tried to haul the body
ashore, but like Frazier and Homan,
he could not budge it. And the clothes
it wore were so rotted they pulled away
and remained in his grasp. Finally,
Carpenter placed a rope around the
arms and the entire group of men, with
much effort and grunting, managed
to draw it up on shore, but not until
the men discovered and removed a 67-
pound stone strapped to the feet.
Clothing was carefully removed,
disclosing the hideously bloated body
of a man, rotted into something
unidentifiable. The corpse had worn
two coats; the outer one was drawn
over the head and held in position with
a piece of harness strap. Decomposi-
tion was so advanced that a large piece
of the skull fell out on the river bank
as the body was dragged ashore.
Among the group of men at the
scene was the local undertaker, Lewis
E. Warner. Moving the body into a
coffin proved such a major undertak-
ing, Warner: said in later court
testimony, that ‘‘I placed my box by
the side of the body, turned it up on
the edge; (others) taking hold of the
body with me, and turning it up in a
position so that when the box was.
turned over it would come in on the
back. We done (sic) so and turned it
over, and that is about all we done
(sic) that night.’’
The body was not examined that
night, but left in its coffin on the river
bank. A telegram summoned the
coroner, Dr. Elisha George, who left
for Baldwinsville the following day.
In the meantime, at the request of Dr.
As witness watched, axeman
cold-bloodedly split his vic-
tim’s skull in two.
j
Bishop Vader stood by with a
blank expression on his face -
during the bloody murder.
George, Dr. James V. Kendall arrived
on the morning of December 23 and
conducted an examination on the river
bank.
He threw. backward the coat é- which
covered the head, exposing the
nightmarish features. In so doing, Dr.
Kendall found what the bloated flesh
had formerly hid, a-large fracture on
the right side of the skull. The wound
was approximately four inches long,
Striding up to the
farmhand milking the cow,
he first brought the axe’s
blade down on his head,
then the blunt end. It all
happened so fast, the cow
didn’t even moo.
perhaps two inches wide, and covered
the area from above the ear to over
the eye. Broken bones pressed into the
decaying brain matter.
Coroner George arrived at the scene
between seven and eight that night and
conducted his own examination. He
found Constable Carpenter and
several spectators still at the site. He
corroborated Dr. Kendall’s findings,
commenting on the ferocity of the
death blow, and found several items
in the pockets of the dead man which
he turned over to the constable.
Following a careful examination,
(continued on page 44)
There, in the height of these remarkable obsequies, we leave the murderers = rid of the
fatal attentions of the law; to be the prey of the rabbit's morbid curiosity. After the
avenger, the hymns." ‘
POLICE GAZETTE, New York, NY, Ma
a}
*
rch 2h, 1883 (7-7 /voodcut likeness of each on page 13.)
MAJONE, FPasque ,
quale, white, ha
'y hanged Toombs Prison, NYC
son, N C, 3-9-1883
ss A SENSATIONAL EXECUTION. =
The Murderers, McGloin and. Majone, Strung up
ce 2 So Together in the Tombs), ©.
Rape aap e sar (Subject. of Illus {Hob} or Ree
“New York does not often submit so completely to
the thrill of horror consequent on the. intermittent:
jegal tragedies of the Tombs as itdid on Friday, March.
9, when two murderers ‘were hanged together in the |
| dismal precincts of that iil-reputed building. These.
were Michael McGloin and Pasquale Majone.. 9"
_McGloin was.8. mere boy, one ot ‘Abose: hali-growh.
toughs -of New ‘York who vrowl the streets after
nigh:fall, lounge on the corners armed and'play pool.
| for drinks In the beer saloons of the: west side up”
| town, He was.a type of a: most dangerous class of
‘Gotham’s citizens.” Hjs crime,: too, was & typical one.
On the night of Dec. 10, 1881, party of young men
broke into the saloon of Louis Hanter, 144 West <26th |
‘treet, for purposes of robbery. Hanier, Who lived on
the upper floors of the house with his wifg and peven.
children, heard the noise made by. the robbers and
was making his way down to investigate, when young
of the gang, stepped into the
éd a shot
es.rab them
tm as the
bring the murd
‘two months at it, but when, €
1882, he decided. to arrest M
completely tied up with: proofs of gt
no hope for him. He wastried, found
tenced to be hanged. Although the young man had
been In state prison a notorious hard
| who worked dill:
avail, while the °
sympathy
greater than many & better t
the same dreadful shadow of the.
‘mand. The mute testimony. of th
struggling to support ‘her seven fatherless little ones,
| however, was too patent for McGloin’s friends; to
‘overcome with their pleas of false sentiment and the
rire pulling of politica,
1
Ay pw FL
y, / j4- te"
- He was ‘doomed. ‘Sentenced to be hanged in the
‘fombson the same day
with this boy criminal was
‘an Italian of the most, sanguinary record—one Pus:
quale Majone. He
was . & ‘soul-distracting,.
himself... He traveled over
New York, On one of his. tmps be.
unfaithful.to him.’ He
fot seen for nearly a@ week.
beart-end she fell at bis feet a corpse.
rushed Into the Foe
bullet entering the rig
‘pull, She died almost instat
ran out fo the court yard and &
raged law. 1h ie
bade their. trlends and relatives
most prompt and effectual,
‘time borrors of ‘the scene cc
‘despatch of the operation. ~
‘elaborate’ religious: exercises were
those over the Itallan being. the
tothe observance: of the
‘other’ world, even
four hours ina church.
rabble’s morbid curtoalty.
fee [Ce CsA 2E
New Lye ML
,
(put on trial for the life the authorities bad been
pains to save,and. it was declared. forfeit to. the out-
He: was an itinerant ‘gousician’ “who
nerve racking orchestra {in
the country on foot giv-
ing street concerts on a combination of drum, cymbals
and hand organ simultaneously operated.: While he
was on his tramps he left hiswife, a mere girl, at home
‘with her parents, who lived at No. 56 Thompson st,
received the
information from sume bnsy body that. his wife was
immediately returned home
and charged her with infidelity, but she indignantly
‘resented bis accusation and her mother espoused. her
‘Cause warmly.” This occurred Inthe early part of De-
comber, 1881. Majone went away in a rage ‘atid “was
: veek, On Dec. 9, he reappeared
at the house’ and after. repeating ‘pis charges drew a
pistol and fired at his girl wife. ‘cmne bulle} plerced her
. {Her mother:
1 and another shot satled ber, the
ning through her
‘Thechurderer then
tom pied suicide. The
‘weapon was not well aimed, however, the ballet strik-
4ng him in the neck, giancing upward and Jodging ‘a
‘the'palate. He was taken tothe bospital and alter a
painful surgical operation” was ‘cured. . He was theit.
at sucli
| After every effort of cunning lawyers, who exhausted
I alt the technicalities and writhed through all the sinu-
osities of their tricky- profession in bis bebalf, the gtip:
of Jack Ketch on the shoulder of the wretched Italian
waa assured, and it was formally commanded that ‘he
be executed on the same day with McGloin,. The two
passed their last days in earnest devotions, and their
jast night on earth was in no wise. different from the
experience of otber ‘criminals who had taken the
dread leap into eternity by the same dread formula Jn:
the awful prison. “Shey prayed much, slept a little,
a tearful good-bye,
and marched with some display of manly: fortitude. to:
the gallows and were’ banged. by a. process that: was
though none. ot.the’ old-
d be climinated by. the
"Phe bodies of the dead criminals were given to their
friends and relatives an hour alter the’ execution, and
held over taem,
be most notable, as he.
had requested that no ‘formality should be neglected
that should give time dead sure thing: of it in the
Itatlan
~—
A
custom of allowing the body to Ife in state for” twenty- |
: ‘There, 1° the height of these
remarkable obsequies, we leave the murderers—rid of
the fatal attentions of. the law, ‘to be the. prey of the
After the avenger the:
<a
1 NEW YORK CRIMINAL, 86, 19h
MAJONE, Pasquale, white, 23, hanged Tombs, New York on March 9, 1883,
"A SENSATIONAL EXECUTION. = THE MURDERERS,McGLOIN AND MAJONE, STRUNG UP TOGETHER IN THE
TOMBS. = New York does not often submit so completely to the thrill, of horror consequent
on the intermittent legal tragedies of the Tombs as it did on Friday, March 9, when two
murderers were hanged together in the dismal precincts of that ill-reputed building.
These were Michael McGloin and Pasquale Majone.
"McGloin was a mere boy, one of those half-grown toughs of New York who prowl the streets
after nightfall, lounge on the corners armed and play pool for drinks in the beer saloons
of the west side uptown. He was a type of a most dangerous class of Gotham's citi,ens.
His crime, too, was a typical one. On the night of Dec, 10, 1881, a party of young men
broke into the saloon of Louis Hanier, ll); West 26th street, for the urposes of robbery.
Hanier, who lived on the upper floors of the house with his wife and 7 children, heard
the noise made by the robbers and was making his way down to investigate, when young
McGloin, who was one of the gang, stepped into the hallway and from the foot of the stairs
fired a shot from a revolver that pierced his side and killed him. The villainous gang
gled, but the detectives ran them down and MAXX@HX Mciloin's comrades betrayed him as the
one who had fired the fatal shot, It required careful and assidhus detective work to
bring the murderers to justice, Inspector Byrnes was two months at it, but when, at the
end of January, 1882, he decided to arrest McGloin he had him so completely tied up with
proofs of guilt that there was no hope for him. He was tried, found guilty and sentenced
to be hanged. Although the young man had been in state prisogj already and was a notorious
hard case, he had many political fiends who worked diligently for AiWQXXTHXXsanxX hk
UXKKAMKX AVAXY in Alhany BU without avail, while the sympathy 6f the citizens generally in
New York was greater than many a better man who had encountered the same dreadful sha-
dow of the Tombs could command. The mute testimony of the widow of Hanier, struggling to
support her 7 fatherless little ones, however, was too patent for McGloin's friends to
overcome with their pleas of false sentiment and the wire pulling of politics. He was
doomed, sentenced to be hanged in the Tombs on the same day with this boy criminal was an
Italian of the most sanguinary record = on Pasquale Majone. He was an itinerant musician
who was a soul-distracting, nerve racking orchestra in himself, He traveled over the
country on foot giving street concerts on a combination of drum, symbals and hand organs
simultaneously operated. While he was on his tramps he left his wife, a mere girl, at -
home with her parents, who lived at No. 56 Thompsen Ste, New York. On one of his trips he
received the information from some busy body that his wife was unfaithful to him, He
Immediately returned home and charged her with infidelity, but she indignangly resented his
accusation and her mother espoused her cause warmly, This occurred in the exrly part of
December, 1881. Majone went away in a rage and was not seen for nearly a weeke On TeCe
9, he weappeared at the house and after repeating his, charges drew a pistol and fired at
his girl wife. The bullet pierced her heart and she fell at his feet a corpse. Her
mother rushed into the room and another shot settled her, the bullets entering the right ey
and crashing through her skull. She died almost instantly. The murderer then ran out to
the court yard and attempted suicide, The weapon was not well aimed, however, the bullet
striking him in the neck, glancing upward and lodging in the palate. He was taken to the
hospital and after a painful surgical operation was cured, He was then put on trial for th:
life the authorities had been at such paths to save and it was declared forfeit to the
outraged lawe
"after every effort of cunning lawyers who exhausted all the technicalities and writhed
through all the sinuosities of their tricky profession in his behalf, the grip of Jack
Ketch on the shoulder of the w retched Italian was assured, and it was formally commanded
that he be executed on the same day with McGloin. The two passed their last days in
earnest devotions, and their last night on earth was in ne wise different from the ex-
periences of other criminals who had taken the dread leap into eternity by the same dread
formula in the awful prison, They prayed much, slept a little, bade their friends and
relatives a tearful goodbye, and marched with some dispaay of manly fortitude to the
gallows and were hanged by a process that was most prompt and effectual, though none of
the old time horrors of the scene could be elminated by the dispatch of the operatione
The bodies of the dead criminals were given to their friends and relatives an hour after th
execution, and elaborate religious exercises were held over them, those over the Italian
being the most notable, as he had requested that no formality should be neglected that
should given him a dead sure thing of it in the other world, even to the observance the
Italian custom of allowing the body to lie in state for twenty-four hours in 2 churche
poyer aequicscence In-any arrmgement
which will rrove ‘mutually bel.jul. We
hope to see such an arrangement adopted
ratherthan the univeleome «4! !ornative
of shut downs from which o:her com-
munities suffer, We underztund that
the rule sought to be adopted here his
been in foree with sevoral large concerng >
‘at Gloversville for two months past.
mm me a LE oe te
“OLO JOHNSTOWN”
Wad Grown #0 Hamunenly Rita Yormrn
Whaat 10 te Amioswt im Now a hiace.
at
A writer in the Amsterdam Democrat
says: This place was once called “Old.
Johnstown,” but of Jate vears it has
grown so immensely that ft is almost a
new place and this growth has eee a
corresponding increase of wealth. Johns-
town has veally more capttul than any
other town of its size in this siate and
hence will weather the presont stringency.
The ancient jail, whichis the oldest in
the country, has been improve: so as to
look quite young and may last for
another eentury, and the court house
also is ag good as newin polatof use,
though a much larger building is now re-
quired by the increase + of . bosiness.
Among the antiquities of the place is the
ancient gallows, whichis in good condi:
tion, being stored in the court house gar-
ret. It is painted yellow with black
trimmings and was last usd in the exe-
ention of Moses Lyons Ee nbet 18,
1829, for murdering his wife (or, house-
keeper, while drunk. ‘ihe laine execu
tion in the county was tiat of Mrs. Van
Valkenburgh for murdering her. husband,
It took place in 1845 and the scene wa:
f:0 jail yard, the gallows bel.c a beam
projecting from one of the windows.
This allusion to public executions leads
me to refer to a statement recently made
by the Utica Globe (and copiei.woy other
papers) that in 1772 a negro was burned
alive in Jolinstown for a flagruat crime.
Fals®! utterly faise! and such a libel on
the fair name of our ancestors should at
ounce be refuted. Jolnstown was once
only reached by a hilly road, now it has s|
a plank road.to Fonda and twy va oe sf
ald doing a good busiiess. 1 tue ab
progress of the place in Jaw, trade, jour
nalista, education and manufsavnnre give
it promi: ence among the leacing towns
in the state.
re a * :
BOOKINGS AT SACAN 4 PARK,
ee
ees aD:
Bate a i
Wo've never in the history of our hou:
known its equai,—’ Ewiil last one day
es
We A open TH
Wednesday, we
125 Doz. of Ladies’ Handkerchicfs e
broidered corners, with scolloped
plain hemstitched edges.
These goods were bought for the com!
holiday'trade and should not have be
sent us ull Nov. 1. We don’s’ we
them perhaps you do
At these Very Low Prices.
50 Dozen iadies’ ITandkerchiefs Sc
loped edzes and assorted putterns
heavy embroidered cornars worth J
each. Weshali sell them 4 for 2%.
50 Doz. Ladies’ Handkerchiefs Scollo
es with heavy em broidery in
edg
We shall s
corners worth 15¢ each.
them 8 for 25c.
25 Doz. Ladies’ Handkerchiefs (h
stitched) with Silk embroidered cory
assorted colors, worth 20¢ each.
2 tor 25e.
shall sell them
Dry Goods, arpets and
Millinery.
& salt
SSRIS ator reese
112
his movements there, they directed
his attention to large crimson stains on
the floor and jeered at the possibility
that he could have been unaware of
the contents of the cellar. Neverthe-
less, Lee stuck to his statements with
. dogged determination, and denied any
knowledge of the awful crimes.
The officers then escorted Lee to his
top floor room, and there made a search
of his trunk. Several shirts found in it
all bore the same laundry mark as the
bloodstained one found in the cellar,
and all were of the same make and
size.
Continuing their search of the trunk,
the investigators found a passbook for
the People’s Trust Company of Brook-
lyn which had been issued to Miss
Brownell, and also some of her, cloth-
ing. The passbook showed some recent
withdrawals of a suspicious nature,
and after severe grilling, Lee finally
admitted that he had forged Miss
Brownell’s name to some small checks.
He insisted, however, that she had
known of this, explaining that she had
informed him of her contemplated visit
on July 2, and that at her request he
had cashed a check for $100 to defray
the expenses of her journey.
Other of Miss Brownell’s bank books
found showed that the spinster seam-
stress had carried three or four ac~
counts totaling something over $5,000.
She had come to the city from Glovers-
ville ten years before, and had then
conducted a rooming house at 153
Sterling Place. It was there that she
had made the acquaintanceship of
Ludwig Halverson Lee, and engaged
the former carpenter and cabinet
maker. as janitor. After three years,
Miss Brownell had sold that house for
cash, putting the proceeds in a bank.
Lee had moved with her to the new
residence on Prospect Place.
Christian Jensen, being questioned
in another room, now told officers that
Lee had been drunk continuously since
the Fourth of July, and that he had on
several occasions boasted ‘that he
“Knew where he could raise. $1,000 to
get him back, to Norway.”
~ Making stubborn denials at first, Lee:
finally admitted that he had tried un-
successfully to cash a check for $1,000
on the People’s Trust Company, osten-
sibly signed by Miss Brownell, so that
he might return to Oslo where jobs
were more ‘plentiful. He said that he
had contemplated forging Miss Brown-
ell’s name to a check for that amount
only after he had found how easily
the one for $100 had been cashed. But
he still continued to deny knowing
anything about her murder, and in+
sisted that she had gone on a visit f°
Gloversville. f
Because ‘of Lee’s dogged denials,
Captain Bishop took the stocky car-
penter to the murder cellar and made
him look upon the horribly mutilated
bodies. His face turned ashy pale as
he gazed at the frightful spectacle, but
he otherwise betrayed no emotion.
Asked whether he could identify one
of the bodies as Miss Brownell], Lee
maintained that he did not recognize
FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE
either of the corpses, and seemed ex-
tremely anxious to get away from the
sickening scene.
A little later, Detective Joseph Mc-
Carthy found a gold wedding ring at
the bottom of the tool box which had
contained the murder’ implements;
This was soon identified as having be-
longed to Mrs. Bennett, and althdugh
no Official identification of the bodies»
was yet possible, there could hardly be
any doubt that the unfortunate woman
had been one of the victims.
At that moment Dr. Gonzales ar-
rived at the house of horror. After a
cursory examination of the gruesome
find in the basement, a table was set
_up on the ground floor, and with the
assistance of Drs, Martin and Aeur-
‘pach, the job of piecing the bodies to-
gether was begun. Several parts were
found to be missing, and the search
of the cellar was redoubled.
_ A police emergency squad now ar-
rived, and a dozen men began drain-
ing the water from the cellar. Before
long, the severed finger was found on
the floor, along with various other
‘small chopped-off parts. Another frag-
‘ment was found concealed in an alcove
‘in the cellar. This had been located .
when officers started to rip down
plaster and lath from the walls.
The search was: also carried‘ to
neighboring yards so that nothing -
might be overlooked, and employes
of the Department of Public Works
were tearing apart the clogged sewer
pipes to see what was causing the
flooded basement.
In the midst of this feverish activity,
District Attorney Charles J. Dodd, In-
spector J. J. Sullivan, Deputy Inspec-
tor Carey and I arrived at the murder
house. A crowd of over a thousand
people had already gathered in the
streets in front of the place, and a score
of policemen were having difficulty in
keeping them back at a block’s dis-
tance on either side.
I will never forget the weird scene
that greeted our eyes as we entered
‘the building. Standing at the impro-
vised table were the three doctors
>» working at their task of assembling
the incomplete bodies. Men scurried
up and down the stairs, and from the
basement could be heard the sound of
pick-axes and ripping plaster, In the
‘front room, sat Ludwig Lee, ‘sur-
rounded ‘by detectives and still snarl-
ing denials to the questions being shot
at him from all sides. Jensen, pale and
trembling, sat in another corner with
a guard, and Nielson, who had recently
arrived, formed thé center of a third
group in a back room. He was being
questioned to see if his story of the
night before checked with that of Jen-
sen.
After a survey of the premises, Sul-
livan, Carey and I took over the in-
terrogation of Lee in turns, and for
over an hour we continued to hammer
away at the transparent lies with
which he was constantly replacing
others as soon ‘as it became apparent
that he could no longer cling to the
old ones. But at the end of that time
tw
he was still protesting his innocence,
and nothing would make him admit
that he had even had any knowledge
of the brutal crimes revealed in the
cellar. At four o’clock, determined to
get the truth, we took him to Brooklyn
_ headquarters. Jensen and _ Nielson
were held as material witnesses, and
the grilling of Lee continued.
Meanwhile, every possibility of fur-
ther discoveries had been exhausted
at the murder house, and the pitiful
remains were removed to the morgue,
where arrangements: were to be made
.for the official identification of Mrs,
Bennett by her relatives.
De making a canvass of
the Brownell neighborhood that
evening, interviewed Fred Schmidt of
29 Prospect Place, which was directly
opposite the rooming house. Schmidt
told officers that he had seen Lee leav-
ing the place at 5:30 on Sunday morn-
ing with a large package under his
arm. The man had been gone only
about twenty minutes, Schmidt said,
when he returned and made another
trip with a second parcel. These, we
believed, were the caches which had
been found on the lawn of St. Augus-
tine’s Church and back of the Carleton
Theater, for both addresses were with-
‘in a distance of three blocks from the
Prospect Place house-
Soon afterward we located a Mrs.
Wilson, an elderly woman who said
she had been a close friend of Miss
Brownell for many years. She flatly
contradicted Lee’s statement that his
employer had gone away on the
Fourth of July, and said that she and
Miss Brownell had gone for a little
outing: together on the Fourth. The
woman had returned to'‘her home that
night, Mrs. Wilson said, and planned
to leave for Gloversville early the fol-
lowing morning.
That pretty well established the time
of the rooming-house keeper’s death.
According to our theory, Lee had
seized the opportunity to lure Miss
Brownell to the basement that very
night on’ some pretext or other, and
had slain her then with the expecta-
tion that her contemplated visit would
cover the fact of her absence. His mo-
tive had been his eagerness to get his
greedy hands on her bank accounts
without interference.
But why had Mrs. Bennett been
slain? We reasoned that she must have
had occasion to visit the cellar a few
days later, and had unwittingly stum-
bled upon awful evidence of the mur-
‘der. The forty-eight-year-old mother
of four children had probably been
similarly struck down by the desper-
ate killer to keep her from exposing
‘him. i
While we were questioning Lee at
headquarters it came to light that two
weeks before the crimes Miss Brownell
had called the Bergen Street station
late one night and asked that a police-
man be sent to her home at once to
deal with Lee, whom she accused of
threatening her life. Patrolman John
Connery had gone to the house, where-
ocence,
admit
wledge
in the
ned to
ooklyn
Yielson
+s, and
of fur-
austed
pitiful
orgue,
» made
f Mrs.
‘ass of
1 that
ridt of
irectly
thmidt
> leav-
morn-
er his
: only
: said,
i1other
xe, we
h had
.ugus-
rleton
with-
m the
. Mrs.
» said
Miss
flatly
at his ©
1 the
e and
little
. The
2 that
anned
e fol-
» time
leath.
had
Miss
very
, and
ecta-
vould
;mo-
+t his
aunts
been
have
. few
tum-
mur-
other
been
sper-
sing
re at
two
yvnell
ation
lice-
:e to
‘d of
John
1ere-
upon Miss Brownell complained that
Lee had kept her a prisoner all day
by. putting chains on the front and rear
doors, and that he was now threaten-
ing to kill her. The policeman ordered
Lee to get out of the house, but ap-
parently he had been allowed to re-
turn soon afterwards.
Quizzed about this episode, Lee now
disclosed for the first time that he and
Miss Brownell had agreed to marry
soon and settle in his native Norway.
The elderly woman had proposed to
him some months before, the thirty-
eight-year-old janitor said, and he had
accepted.
Lee’s birthplace had been a small
village named Urskog, between Oslo
and the Swedish border, and he had
been in this country only four years.
Romantic tales of his homeland had
intrigued the spinster, he said, and she
had urged that they return there to- ':
gether,
She had also given him small sums .
of money from time to time, Lee ad-
mitted, and on one occasion had fi-
nanced him in an unsuccessful restau-
rant venture to the tune of $1,800, The
money, which had been promptly lost,
had been a source of frequent quarrels
between them ever since, he said. But
he denied having threatened her life,
and after hours of incessant grilling
the stolid carpenter was still maintain-
ing that he knew nothing of her mur-
der despite the. growing evidence of
his guilt. Finally, when an‘almost all-
night examination had failed to force
any further admissions from him, Lee
was locked up in the Raymond Street
jail to await tomorrow's arraignment.
Early the next morning the body of
Mrs. Selma Bennett was identified at
the morgue by her husband and son ‘
Carl, and at ten o’clock Lee was ar- |
raigned before Magistrate McClusky
in Brooklyn Homicide Court for the
murder of Mrs. Bennett only.
The reason for this procedure was
that Miss Brownell’s body had not yet
been legally identified. But on the fol-
lowing afternoon, July 12, the dead
woman's head was found in a yard of
the B. M. T. subway at Fifth Avenue
and Thirty-sixth Street, Brooklyn,
about two miles from the Prospect
Place house. A workman had stumbled
upon the grisly object which lay along
a fence that bordered the company’s
property. The partly decomposed head
had been done in a parcel very similar
to the others, and had apparently been
‘there for several days.
At 5:30 p.m. of the same day, still
another bundle was found lying under
a bush on a slope of Prospect Park at
the west side of Grand Army: Plaza.
This final discovery contained’ a foot
and part of a thigh wrapped in a pink
nightgown, yellow undergarment and
a kitchen towel. These portions be-
longed to Miss Brownell’s body also,
and only the hand and a small part of
the limb of one of the dead women -
remained missing. They have never
been recovered.
A few days later Miss eeeats
FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE
niece arrived from Gloversville, and
the rooming house proprietor’s body
was at last legally identified.
On July 13 an excited woman ap-
peared before Patrolman Thomas F,
Collins, who was on post at the door
of the murder house. After telling him
that she was Mrs. Ragnhild Cornelin-
son, the nervous woman burst out:
“T’ve been reading about the terrible
murders! I think I can help you. Sev-
eral days ago I saw a dark complex-
ioned man with a bag or knapsack at
the B. M. T. yards. He was kneeling
just outside a hole in the fence about
the yard. He looked.as though he had
just put something through the hole, -
and I took a good look at him because
I wondered what he was doing.”
Mrs. Cornelinson went on to explain
that she had later seen newspaper pic-
tures of Lee as the murder suspect,
and recognized him as. the man. Col-
Found Parcel
Under the hedge of a church yard, sev-
enteen-year-old Edward Meyer found a
package which contained the upper thigh
of a woman!
e
lins immediately got in touch with his
station, and the following morning
Mrs. Cornelinson was brought to head-
quarters. She picked Lee from the line-
up and positively identified him as the
man she had seen kneeling near the
.spot where Miss Brownell’s head was
later found. Her identification was im-
portant, because it was the first defi-
nite connection we had been able to
make of the janitor with the crimes.
After less than two hours’ considera-
tion of the State’s evidence on July 14,
1927, the Kings County grand jury
returned two indictments against Lud-
wig Lee (or Lie, as it was spelled be-
,
fore he Jeft Norway), charging him |
with the murders of Miss Brownell and
Mrs. Bennett. The indictments were at
once laid-before County Judge Frank-
lin Taylor, and Lee was brought in
from the detention rqom to enter his
plea. He was still protesting his inno-
cence, and had not once weakened in
his denials. . )
/[HERE.Was some surprise when
an associate of Edward J. Reilly
stepped forward to enter Lee’s plea of
nS Sige ere - “ey “> TE NES + ATR hs a ic Pt Re AAS eespen eey ot
113
“not guilty,” and it was learned that
Reilly, well-known leader of the
Brooklyn bar and later to- become
world-famous for his part in the Bruno
Richard Hauptmann trial, had been
retained in Lee’s defense. It had been
believed that the prisoner was penni-
less and that the court would have to
assign counsel.
A few days after Lee’s indictment
Dr. Alexander O. Gettler, city toxicol-
ogist, reported to us that his tests’ of
the stains found on Lee’s shirt had
shown them to be human blood. More
important still, the strands of hair
found in the severed hand of one of
the dead women had been as irrevo-
cably proved to have come from Lee’s
head.
On Monday, October 17, 1927, Lee
went on trial for his life before Judge
Alonzo G. McLaughlin in Kings
County Court. He was being tried on
a single indictment only, that concern-
ing Mrs. Bennett, and the prosecution
was in the hands of Assistant District
Attorney Frederick I. Kopff.
From the mament. of the State’s
opening, Defense Attorney Reilly be-
gan a vigorous counter-offensive de-
signed to implicate Carl Bennett, son
of the murdered woman, as the guilty
person. He charged that John Heslin,
a friend of young’ Bennett who had
also lived in the Prospect Place house,
had disappeared immediately after the
crimes and was equally guilty.
Forced to trace his actions between
the Saturday afternoon of July 9 and
the time when his mother’s body had
been found the next day, young Ben-
nett testified that he had left the room-
ing house about five p.m., had driven
a taxi all night, and had returned home
at six a.m. He went to bed, and had
- been awakened at nine by his sister’s
telephone call telling him about their
mother’s disappearance.
But during his testimony, Bennett
was'made by Reilly to admit that he
had driven a taxicab for seven years
without a hack license, and that he
had once been arrested, charged with
stealing an automobile. The shame-
faced youth said that his father had
bailed him out on that occasion, and
‘that the charges had later been’
dropped.
.The jurymen were not Lelanieedl
by these insinuations any more than
they were on November 3, 1927; when
Reilly shouted during his closing ad-
dress: “If there was any murder com-
mitted, it was done by Carl Bennett,
aided by John Heslin!”
Three hours and thirty-six minutes
later, they found Lee guilty of murder
in the first degree. The following week,
mandatory sentence of death was.
passed upon him, and after the usual
delay of appeals and pleas for clem-
ency, Lee walked the last mile at Sing
Sing on the night of August 2, 1928.
The man who had butchered two
women and distributed their bodies
piecemeal through Brooklyn and Man- .
hattan met electric death stolidly—still
proclaiming his innocence.
\Ifred
rook-
r and
i ate of a bat oy HS iat 97S tae nee, ;
moved to the Lincoln Place address. Alfred Bennett re-
vealed that until the previous May 14, he and his wife
had conducted a rooming house at 28 Prospect Place,
which was directly at the rear of their present home. In
May, the Bennetts had sold the rooming house to Miss
Sarah Brownell, a sixty-year-old spinster and former
' seamstress, Miss Brownell had paid a small sum in
cash on the house, and had arranged to pay the remainder
in instalments undér a mortgage.
With the sale of the house, the Bennett family had
moved to their new home on Lincoln Place, but Carl, the
eldest son, had refused to leave the Prospect Place house
and continued to live there in his own room on the top
floor. The rest of the Bennett family consisted of a daugh-
ter, Edith, who was married and lived in Manhattan, and
two other children, John, 19, and Ruth, 17; who lived
with their parents.
Ruth now told the officers that her mother frequently
called at the Prospect Place house to collect payments
due or to assist Miss Brownell in things concerning the
management of the house. She said, furthermore, that
she believed that was where her mother had been going
the night before when she had disappeared. Miss Brown-
ell had been away for a few days, and there had been
some complaint from the neighbors about a flooded base-
ment in her home;
Captain Bishop then turned to Carl Bennett and
asked him if he knew anything about his mother’s visit to
the rooming house the evening before. Young Bennett
said he had been away most of the night and did not know
whether she had been there or not.
In answer to further questioning, Carl said that Miss
Brownell had left the house in charge of Ludwig Lee, a
Norwegian janitor who had been’‘in her employ for two
or three years. Lee, he said, lived on the top floor of the
house also, and shared a room with Christian Jensen,
another Norwegian who was a clerk in an Atlantic and
Pacific Tea Company chain store a few blocks away. A
thunderbolt descending in the midst of the listening
officers would have had no more startling effect than
this last announcement! .
An Atlantic and Pacific grocery store clerk living in
the house , . . The grocery store: wrapping paper with
penciled computation found with the limbs in Battery’
Park . . . Miss Brownell absent for several days...
And now, Mrs. Bennett’s mysterious disappearance after
a probable visit to the self-same house! Could this chain
of circumstances be nothing more than coincidence? _,
Captain Bishop jumped from his chair.
“You'd better come with us,” he said to young Bennett
as he strode toward the door. They all hurried around
the corner to the house at 28 Prospect Place.
As Bishop and Lieutenant Fitzpatrick, who were walk-':
ing a little ahead of the others, reached the stoop of the
house they noticed an elderly woman sitting on the porch
of the house next door. They decided to ask her a few
questions before continuing on their original mission.
The pleasant-faced, white-haired old lady, who’ told
the officers she was Mrs. Emma Lohman, said she knew
both Miss Brownell, and Mrs. Bennett quite well.
“Ihaven’t seen Miss Brownell since the Fourth of July,”
she declared, “but Mrs. Bennett’ was sitting right over
there”—indicating a chair on the porch of the brown-
stone rooming house—“only last night..."
“Yesterday morning I found my yard filling with wa-
ter,” she continued. “It was backing up through the drain’
in the yard, and I realized that it was. probably coming
from the house next door. I telephoned to Mrs. Bennett
and told her she should come over and see what the.
trouble was, A short time after I had telephoned I went
out into the yard and saw this Norwegian janitor in his
own yard. I told him he must fix the pipes, and he
FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE iar: 61
mumbled something about attending to it right away.
“Mrs. Bennett came here just about seven o’clock last
night. She sat down in that chair by one of the front
windows, and I took the one in the other window. She
- said that she had telephoned to the house next door three
times, and had called once, without getting any response.
She asked if she might sit at the window and wait for
the return of this man Lee. I gladly told her that she
might, and at seven o’clock, or maybe a bit after, Lee
came down the street.
“‘Oh, there he is now,’ Mrs. Bennett said, and she
jumped up and went out to follow him. I saw her at the
gate with him, but I didn’t stop to see whether she went
in or not.” A .
farsi definitely established Mrs. Bennett as having
been on the rooming house premises shortly before
her disappearance, and waiting no more, the officers re-"
turned there.
Captain Bishop rang the bell, and after a few moments
a short, stocky, black-browed man came to the door.
He was bull-necked and had powerful, bulky shdulders,
but Bishop noted at once that the man had an unusually |
small waistline. in proportion to the rest of his body. His
unkempt appearance, jet black hair and heavy brows lent
an almost ferocious aspect, made more pronounced by his
large, protuberant brown eyes which seemed incapable
of centering on anything or anybody. The man was Lud-
wig Lee, Norwegian caretaker of the house.
Bishop told him he wanted to see Carl Bennett. Lee
answered that Bennett had gone out some time ago and
had not returned. The detective then casually asked Lee
if he had seen Mrs. Bennett. After a moment's hesita~
tion, Lee replied that the woman had called there the
night before. She had complained that a leak in the
pipes was causing a flood in the yard of the next door
neighbor, he said, and had demanded to be taken to
the cellar. Lee added that he (Continued on page 111 )
BECKONED BY CHAIR
Not even famed Attorney Edward Reilly (left)
could save his murderous client (shown with him)
from doom in Sing Sing’s death house,
Perry Wie cescaai as }
-. FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE
BLOODY JIGSAW
(Continued. from page 61)
had taken Mrs. Bennett. down to the
basement and had left her standing
there looking at the water, which was
.two feet deep in some places. He had
then gone on about his business else-
where in the house, he said, and had
not seen her after that.
“I understand there’s a man named
Christian. Jensen living here,”- said
Bishop. “We'd like to: talk to him.”
The janitor looked somewhat sur- -
prised, but finally said he. believed
Jensen was in his room on the top
floor. Leaving other officers with Lee
on the ground floor, Bishop and
Fitzpatrick went up the stairs.
The tall, fair-haired grocery clerk
was quietly reading when the detec-
tives appeared at his door. He showed
some astonishment at seeing them, but
answered readily enough their few
preliminary questions. Then Captain
Bishop produced the wrapping paper
found with the limbs in Battery Park,
and asked Jensen if he had ever seen
the figures that were written upon it.
Without hesitation the clerk identified
them as his own! :
He said that on either Thursday or
Friday of the previous week, he had
arrived at the Prospect Place house
early in the evening carrying a lamp
in a pasteboard box. About the box
had been wrapped the brown paper
with the figures on it. He was on his
way upstairs when Lee saw him, and
asked what was in the box. Jensen
informed him that it was a lamp,
whereupon the janitor asked if he
might have the wrapping paper. Jen-
sen had taken the covering off.and
given it to his friend, he said.
“Did you see Lee at all last night?”
Bishop asked quickly.
“Why, yes,” the puzzled . clerk
answered. “Otto Nielson and I had a
few drinks with him. up here last
night.”
He seemed reluctant to say more,
but after being urged by the officers,
he finally. related this story:
At about nine o’clock in the evening,
he and Nielson, another friend of Lee’s,
had arrived at the Prospect Place
house intending to join Lee, They had
some trouble getting a response to
their ring at the basement door, but
at last Lee had appeared. He was en-
tirely nude, and said that he had been
- about to take a bath. After exchanging
a few words with his friends, he had
told them to go up to the room and
wait for him there.
The two men sat around for over an
hour, but Lee did not appear. Finally
Nielson, who had expected to get home
early, decided to go down and see what
the delay was. He found ‘the cellar
door closed, and started ta open it, but
Lee said: “Don’t do. that. I'll be right
up.” f
Nielson went back upstairs, and
shortly afterward Lee came up ‘fully
dressed. The three men then had sev-
eral drinks together, and at about
11:30 Nielson and Jensen, who was
sleeping elsewhere for the night, left
the house. When the grocery clerk re-
turned to the room at about ten o’clock
on Sunday morning, Lee was not
around, and Jensen noticed that his
bed was unruffled.
Bishop and Fitzpatrick returned
downstairs with Jensen, and after de-
tailing a man to:pick’ Nielson up for
questioning, went back to the burly
janitor. pg
“Where did you spend the night,
Lee?” Bishop asked him. “Your bed
hasn’t been touched.” ia pe i
“Well, I—I guess I was drunk when
Murder Mill
ae amie
The quiet facade of 28 Prospect Place,
Brooklyn, served to hide the most’ ghast-
ly crime in that borough's history.
the boys left last night,” he replied.
“T fell asleep in my chair. Around four
o’clock I woke up a little bit, but just
tumbled onto the floor and spent the
rest of the night there.”
“Where is Miss Brownell?” de-
manded Bishop.
“She went to visit relatives in
Gloversville—she ain’t been home
since the Fourth of July,” replied the
janitor stolidly. ..
“Ever see this before?” snapped
Bishop, suddenly sticking the wrap-
ping paper with the figures in Lee’s
face. * ee
Bishop was now more anxious than
ever to search the cellar, and leaving
a guard with Leé and Jensen, the men
went downstairs.
“No. I ever saw that paper before.”
.
It was now nearing noon, and the ,
bells of two neighboring churches were
summoning the faithful to late morn-
ing services as the officers with flash-
lights descended into the inky black-
ness of the cellar. They had not gone -
beyond the bottom of the stairs before
they knew they were entering a den
of unspeakable horror. The beams of
their flashlights glinted for a moment
on the water that flooded the floor,
then suddenly came to rest on three
ashcans that stood to one side.
In the cans was the butchered torso
of a woman!
Grim-lipped, the detectives began
an examination of the awful contents.
It was then that they made a sicken-
ing discovery. Two women had been
killed, and two dismembered bodies
were in the foul-smelling, water-filled
cellar! One head was missing, as were
two legs and many other ‘smaller por-
tions.. Some of the remaining pieces
were already wrapped as if for dis-
posal, and it was obvious that the grue-
some parcels found scattered about
the city had come from these two
bodies. If any further proof was
needed, the ashcans also contained
remnants of the white bedspread and
faded curtain which had marked the
previous. finds!
On a projecting lath just above the
cans hung a white shirt, evidently put
there to dry. An attempt had been
’ made to wash out red splashes on the
front of it, but this had been unsuc-
cessful, and the large stains were still
plainly visible. Captain Bishop re-
moved the shirt and confiscated it for
future reference.
Meanwhile, men wading in the dark
water had found the murder tools. On
a shelf not far from the ashcans were
two saws, a hatchet, a hammer, and
an-axe with a long black handle. All
were blood-smeared, and the axe blade’
was coated with crimson.
Bishop hurried upstairs to telephone -«
the medical examiner, and we were
immediately notified at headquarters
that the murder house had been
found.
4 Rai STOLID Lee pretended great
surprise at the revelations in the °
cellar, and when confronted by Bishop
with the bloodstained shirt, vehement-
ly denied ownership of it. He con-
tinued these denials even after detec-
tives tore open his collar and pointed
out that the shirt he was wearing bore
the identical laundry marks and was
of the same make and size. _
Forced now to recount over and over
again every move he had made that
‘morning, Lee fumblingly told in his
broken English how he had prepared
breakfast for himself and eaten it in
the kitchen directly above the murder
- basement. But detectives hustled him .
to the kitchen, and while he re-enacted
ee
Ludwig Lee was arrested and questioned by District Attorney. He.said he knew nothing
about the murders of the two women. He proved a hard man to question as he answered
only such questions as he wished. Confronted with tell-tale evidence he refused to say anything.
and a segment of a human shoulder.
Within the hour, an usher at the
Carlton Theater, 135 Park Place,
Brooklyn, found two packages in the
alley behind the theater, ‘Vhey con-
‘tained the foot and an ankle of a hu-
man body.
These parts were rushed to Doctor
Gonzales, who worked now with
frenzied speed, trying to determine il
the parts came from the same body.
They did, and Doctor Gonzales was
able to report that the murdered per-
son was an elderly woman.
The finding of parts of an elderly
woman's body in different parts of
Manhattan and Brooklyn was sonic:
thing unique in the annals of New
York City crime, a city where murder
has taken about cvery known form. So
macabre were the discoveries that the
New York newspapers went to town
on the story and, by late afternoon
every newspaper reader in that city
was getting all the latest details.
At Headquarters, each time. his
phone rang, Aucrbach half expected
to learn of the discovery of other par-
cels of flesh. But carly evening
brought nothing more. The men as-
signed to checking the neighborhood
stores for the clerk who had written the
figures on the brown paper bag re
ported complete failure.
Detective Aucrbach went to the De
34
parunent of Missing Persons. He asked
Sergeant Fred Patterson for a list of
the people recently reported missing,
whose description fitted that of the
nameless body in the mortuary.
“Before 1 can find out who killed
the woman, I should know who she
was,” he said.
“We don’t seem to have much in the
files to help you,” Officer Patterson
told Auerbach after a search, “Unless
this might be of some use. A_ boy
phoned us this afternoon and said his
mother had gone out last night and
failed to return home. He was afraid
she might have been hit by an auto-
mobile or something, and wanted us to
try the hospitals.”
‘Maybe she just got tired of doing
the housework,”’ Auerbach said. “Give
me the name.”
Over in Brooklyn, less than an hour
later, at 16 Lincoln Place, Auerbach’s
insistent bell-ringing brought a gray-
ing, tired-looking man to the front
door.
“Is your name Bennett? I’m from
Police Headquarters,” the Detective
told him.
“Come in,” the man said. ‘Have
you found my wife yet?”
“I’m sorry, we haven't,” Auerbach
told him, and followed him into the
hall. “It was your son, then, who
phoned Headquarters this afternoon?”
Brooklyn home of Sarah Brownell where the
bodies of women were found in cellar sewer.
No motive for murder of Mrs. Bennett found.
The men seated themselves in the liv-
ing room.
“Yes, it was Carl who called. He was
afraid his mother might have met with
some ‘accident,”” Bennett said.
“Didn't you think it strange, too, her
being away all night?” the detective
asked.
“Not particularly,” Bennett replied.
“You see, until a few months ago, 1
owned a rooming house on Prospect
Place. My wife used to spend a good
BRR Ai rn --
/
Sarah Brow:
murder. She
paying for it
several weeks
Killer claim:
Jur
Lic
fuss
case
hac
con
crit
Jury wave a
but Lee was
chair. He wi
ty
id at 7 St. John’s
anhattan and near
scattered around.
ages on the pants
ic third,
id’ Hughes who
“It's part of an
ilughes were vet-
customed to see-
.. but a human
wir of dirty over-
use both of them
crm.” _Krudner’s
his isn’t for a
- us. Call Head-
en minutes later
Homicide Squad,
Vv’. Auerbach in
es, arrived at the
he package was
but) Detective
red it over and
nge|Case Of LUDW
Detectives were baffled when first parts were found at Battery. Police were
unable to find missing woman until tip came from Brooklyn that mother
had disappeared the night before. This led to identification of the body. case
prodded the flesh which was beginning,
to decompose,
“A partof an arm won't help much,”
he said to his detectives, “Scatter out
and see if you can find anything else.”
The detectives, Patrolmen Krudner
and Hughes, spread over Battery Park
in their search. ‘The usual July crowd
of loafers satoon the benches, aug:
mented by out-of-towners who had
flocked to the Battery to see the Bay.
These people—especially the visitors
—took a sudden interest in the search,
and followed the detectives.
No other sections of a human body
were found. Detective Auerbach was
examining the blue denims and a
piece of brown wrapping paper which
had been around the sinister bundle.
Written on the paper was a series of
figures, neatly totaled at the bottom.
“That.” Auerbach said, “looks like
a procery: Tyt"
“Es che type of wrapping paper they
a,
ui
Detective
use in grocery stores,” Detective Bill
Leary agreed. “And those figures
well, they look a lot like the additions
on my paper sacks when TL buy food.”
“He isn't much of a clue,” Detective
Auerbach said, “buat it’s all we've got
Have the stores around here checked
Some clerk may recognize his writing,
but that’s hoping for a lot.”
‘The piece of human flesh was scent
to the morgue where Doctor Gonzales,
the Chief Medical Examiner, tested it.
He hadn't gotten very far in this ex-
amination when it seemed as if all
Greater New York were finding parts
of human bodies.
Over near the church at 7 St. John’s
Place in the Columbia Heights section
of Brooklyn—an exclusive residen-
tial neighborhood—children_play-
ing at the back of the church came
upon some newspapers wrapped about
misshapen objects. When they opened
them they found a hunan hand, a foot,
through the clue of the
W. Auerbach = was
assigned to solve
mystery. Tle located missing woman and finally cracked
grocery sack list.
Police found bloodstained shirt under beams
in cellar. Shirt was traced to killer who
refused to admit any kitowlodge of murder.
G LEE
33
3S i ae
Se
Ludwig Lee, superintendent of Brooklyn rooming house, who gave New York
City its most macabre murder mystery. His murder plan was perfect until
detectives found grocery sack with figures on it. This broke case.
vo a
Pe a
This grocery list was traced to store, where
Mrs. Brownell had made purchases. Detective
Auerbach learned that killer made purchase.
The parts of a human body were discovered
in different sections of New York City. Only
clue was a grocery list on a piece of paper...
32
HE small bundle lay on the path
which zig-zagged through Battery
Park in Manhattan’s downtown
section. It was partly concealed by a
squat shrub bush, which may have ex-
plained why no passer-by had investi-
gated its contents on that sultry morn-
ing of July 9, 1927.
Sharp cyes are standard equipment
of every policeman, and Patrolman
William Krudner was no exception.
He and Patrolman George Hughes
were covering Battery Park as part of
their regular beat. As they approached
the bush, Krudner saw that package.
Stooping over, he picked up what
looked like a pair of dirty denim pants.
There was something else concealed
inside.
“ET wonder who lost this?” Krudner
said. Unwrapping the trousers, he
saw that they contained not one, but
three small parcels. Letting the pants
fall to the ground, he knelt down,
Parts of Sarah Brownell’s body were found at 7 St. John’s
Place, Brooklyn and other parts found in Manhattan and near
Brooklyn theater. Mrs. Bennett’s body not scattered around.
placed two of the packages on the pants
and began to open the third,
“Holy smokes!” said Hughes who
had been watching. “It’s part of an
arm!”
Both Krudner and Hughes were vet-
erans on the force, accustomed to see-
ing almost anything ... but a human
arm falling out of a pair of dirty over-
alls was enough to cause both of them
to gasp in horror,
“It’s a woman's arm.”
voice was hoarse.
Hughes said, “This isn’t for a
couple of flatfeet like us. Call Head-
quarters,”
Krudner did, and ten minutes later
the black sedan of the Homicide Squad,
with Detective R. W. Auerbach in
charge of the detectives, arrived at the
Battery.
The contents of the package was
hideous to look at, but Detective
Auerbach gingerly turned it over and
Krudner’s
The Strange
eases
peers mor
Detectives
unable to |
had disapp
prodded tl
to decomy
“A part:
he said to
and see if
‘The det
and Hugh:
in their se,
of loafers
mented b
flocked to
Phese pe
—took a si
and follow
No othe
were foun:
examining
piece of bi
had been
Wreritten o1
figures, ne.
“That.”
a grocery |
“T's the
bE ter S
»wnell where the
{ in cellar sewer.
». Bennett found.
ives in the liv-
alled. He was
have met with
said,
range, too, her
the detective
nnett replied,
months ago, |
¢ on Prospect
» spend a good
Sarah Brownell, victim of the gruesome
murder. She had purchased house and was
paying for it in installments. She disappeared
several weeks before her body was found.
Killer claimed she had visited a relative.
Jury found him guilty of crime.
Ludwig Lee in court room. He re-
fused to confess. State had to prove
case. His defense was that many
had access to house and could have
committed murders. Hdward Reilly,
criminal lawyer, represented him.
Jury gave a recommendation for clemency
but Lee was sentenced to die in the electric
chair. He went to his death August 2, 1928.
| ih
na
PO sain, m
ie Yee Al
at alanis
wens
»
deal of her time over there. “Then ]
sold it to a Miss Sarah Brownell. Last
night, my wife went over to see Miss
Brownell about some moncy that’s
quite a bit overdue now. I did think
it was a little odd that my wife didn’t
return, but I thought that she must
have decided to spend the night at the
house. There were plenty of rooms
she could have used.”
“And when she didn’t show up this
morning, you still didn’t worry?”
“I leave carly in the morning to get
to my job,” Bennett told him. “It
wasn’t till the kid got home from school
and called me that we really got wor
ricd.”
“TE see,” said Auerbach. “Were you
and your boy here together all last
evening?”
“Yes, we were,” said Bennett. “He
was helping me with some accounts.
We went to bed about ten-thirty, I
guess.”
“Well,” said Auerbach, getting up
to leave, “I'll try to see that you have
some word soon. You'll be at home so
we can reach you?”
“1 will,” said Bennett. “I sure hope
you find her.”
“By the way, what was the number
of your house on Prospect Place?”
“Twenty-eight,” was Bennett's an-
swer.
Back at Police Headquarters in
Center Street, Captain Jerry Mahoney
had taken charge of the corps of de-
tectives assigned to the mysterious
case. Every part of Manhattan was
[Continued on page 78]
35
a, N. J.. was
in National
n to death,
curity Card.
.e used to send
Jmar Khayyam,
she each week
1m to visit him.
1 August, 1934,
married. She
and he went to
had heard the
ing pretty well.
talkative sort,
peared in town
month—outside
‘ver milk at the
le Valley. From
+haved himself,
tty grateful to
‘ith that record
stand why
n that he
-».8 deputies
cai a ace
8h di la Ml a
returned. Sam reported to his su-
perior.
“A hundred yards down the_road,
sheriff, we found the rack that Farns-
worth had built for the back of his
converted car. It’s a tricky sort of
apparatus—you'd have to be familiar
with it to take it off the machine.
There’s a nut-and-bolt arrangement
that went under the axel. Somebody
besides Farnsworth knew how it
worked, though, because it was tossed
off and into a snowdrift. I sent one
of our men into town to get Farns-
worth’s license number on _ his car,
and that’s probably being added now
to the six-State alarm.”
The removal of the rack interested
Miller and Carlson.
“All right,” State Trooper George
remarked. “Who else would know
about a pecaet like this rack? His
wife might—but certainly she didn’t
take it off the back of the truck. Who
else? Well, my guess is a hired man
—a helper. Atleast, that’s the first
lead to follow.”
In the past year, it was disclosed,
Farnsworth had had two helpers. One
of these was eliminated in 24 hours as
a suspect. He was now working on a
farm 10 miles distant. He had a
county-wide reputation for honesty
and sobriety, and he could account for
every hour of his time the last two
weeks.
But the identity of the second helper
osed a knotty problem. It append
he had worked quite recently for
Farnsworth, but almost no one had
seen him. A number of people in
Little Valley testified they had seen
another man with Farnsworth when
he drove the truck every morning to
the creamery. But no one could pro-
vide a description.
Meanwhile, Carlson had the idea of
seeking out some friend of Farns-
worth’s in the penitentiaries where he
spent time. erhaps some _ convict
would know whether the dead farmer
had made some enemy in jail—or out.
The wardens at Sing ing, Clinton and
Auburn co-operated wholeheartedly
with the attaraugus authorities.
Literally, hundreds of convicts were
questioned in the next 48 hours.
Boiled down, all that Sheriff Carl-
son was able to learn through this
avenue of inquiry was that, by and
large, Farnsworth was a self-contained
type of man, that he kept largely to
himself, never talked about his past,
and behaved himself while in con-
finement.
“Ye even was a religious sort,” the
weary Carlson told Miller and George,
on a night when the three were com-
miserating with one another. “In jail
he went regularly to prison services
on Sunday, but he wouldn’t say so
much as ‘Amen’ aloud at chapel. At
one time of his life I learned that_he
did a lot of drinking, but I can’t find
anyone who says he would shoot off
his mouth, like most people when
they get high.”
D* passed since the murders.
And there had been no report on
the stolen truck. A score of tramps
and itinerant farm workers were taken
into custody in Cattaraugus County
and adjoining districts, but their ques-
tioning shed no light on the murders
at the Farnsworth farmhouse.
Miller determined to conduct an-
other and final interrogation of the
employees at the creamery to which
Farnsworth had driven daily with his
milk, The five men there had been
CRIME DETECTIVE
questioned before, but no information
of value had been forthcoming. The
tenacious aide to the district attorney
could not believe that none of these
workers had seen Farnworth’s hired
man.
Wearily, he took up the task of at-
tempting to jog the memories of the
five men. By this time, it was all of
ten weeks since the farmer had made
his last delivery to the creamery. In
turn, Miller prodded each of the men.
Finally, he came to the fifth who,
Miller noted, suddenly turned pale.
“What’s the matter with you?”
Miller asked.
“Why say, officer, I know you asked
me before, but somethin’ just come to
me. I was afraid you mighta thought
I was holding out.”
“Come on, man. Spit it out! You’ve
nothing to be scared about.”
“Well, it’s like this. Now I remem-
ber. Not that I ever saw this helper
very good. He either sat in the car,
or he just kept his back turned. But
now I remember. The last time he
was here he asked me for a match.
I passed it to him and when he
stretched out his hand, I saw a tattoo
in his palm.”
“A tattoo? What kind? Think care-
fully, now!”
“Yes, sir. Well, it was the durndest
thing you ever saw. He smiled when
I asked him to let me see. I said I
always wanted a tattoo, but I never
could make up my mind what picture
I wanted. Well, sir, you know what?
The design was a bunch of flowers,
with the words in the middle, ‘True
Love.’ Ain’t that somethin’?”
Miller lost no time in getting to the
sheriff’s offices. He told Carlson about
the tattoo.
“At last!” Carlson exclaimed. “Now,
if the creamery fellow isn’t making
this up, we’re getting someplace. Help
me broadcast this information to all
three penitentiaries.”
Within half an hour, Carlson and
Miller had their answer. In August,
1934, a week before Farnsworth had
been released from Clinton Peniten-
tiary, to which he had been trans-
ferred from Auburn, another convict
had gained his freedom. His name
was Alfred Lindsay, and he bore a
tattoo on his palm that extended to
the small finger of the left hand. In
the center of the design was the in-
scription, “True Love!’
An alarm, carrying Lindsay’s de-
scription, immediately was flashed to
six adjoining States via the teletype
system.
IGHT hours after the alarm was
broadcast, Detective John Notheis
was enjoying an after-breakfast cig-
arette in a cafeteria on Seventh Ave-
nue, in midtown New York. An hour
before, he had reported to head-
quarters and had made a mental note
about the flash on Lindsay. On an-
other file of events, overnight, he
noted that the Farnsworth converted
truck had been found on Seventh
Avenue. That meant that Lindsay
might be reasonably believed to be
within the city of New York. How-
ever, since that metropolis houses a
population in excess of seven millions,
that was not the most encouraging
conclusion. .
Of more interest was the fact that a
few hours before Lindsay had visited
his sister’s home in New Rochelle, a
few miles north of New York. And
now luck played its part, after the
long hours of dreary and unremunera-
93
tive labor by the authorities of Cat-
taraugus County. A few feet away,
the New York detective noticed a man
at a table bolting his food. Of more
interest to the New York detective
was the fact that the man’s eyes
moved restlessly from right to left, as
though he feared encountering some-
one.
_ But of paramount and electrifying
interest to Notheis was the odd fact
that the man wore gloves. In addition,
the man bore a resemblance to the
teletyped description of Lindsay, one-
time inmate of Clinton and Auburn
Penitentiaries!
The detective tailed the man for a
few blocks as the suspect walked
south on Seventh Avenue. Then he
stopped him. “Where you going, pal?”
the detective asked.
“What’s it to you?” the other
snarled. “Go peddle your papers!”
‘The detective reversed his lapel and
displayed his badge.
Like a cornered rat, the man looked
up and down the street. Notheis ex-
tended an arm and seized the man.
“Take off your gloves! Come on—
you’re not going anywhere.”
When he saw the tattoo, Detective
Notheis could not help saying to him-
self, as he snapped handcuffs on Lind-
say, “This is really too easy. It’s
child’s play.” :
Lindsay was returned to Cattarau-
gus County, and lodged in the Little
Valley jail. Sheriff Carlson and Mil-
ler took him to the scene of the two
murders. The creamery man identi-
fied him as Farnsworth’s helper. Then,
on March 26, Lindsay broke down and
confessed.
Yes, he said, he had_known Farns-
worth well in prison. He had learned
that Farnsworth had married and was
in the dairy business at Little Valley.
He bummed his way to the home of
his prison “pal.” Against the wishes
of Bernice Farnsworth, the farmer’s
benefactress, Lindsay was given a job.
After several months he became bored,
he said, and told Farnsworth that he
was moving on.
When he was leaving, he asked
Farnsworth for his wages. The em-
ployer, according to Lindsay’s story,
said that he had no wages coming,
that Lindsay had agreed to work for
his room and keep. The arrested man
said this was not true. A quarrel en-
sued, in which Farnsworth threatened
him with an axe.
All this version was, of course, sup-
ported only by Lindsay himself.
But Lindsay returned in a few days,
he said. He heard the husband return
and go to the basement. There the
two men had a fight, the suspect con-
tinued, and his employer “pulled a
gun on. me, and to save my life, I
struck him with the axe.” But in the
cellar melee—and here quite con-
vincing tears came to the man’s eyes—
Bernice Farnsworth was wounded.
“I guess later she must have bled to
death,” Lindsay added.
The fight continued in the parlor.
Finally, said Lindsay, he suceeded in
wresting the gun from his opponent,
and he shot him in the head.
The jury disbelieved the entire
story. hotographs made it horribly
evident that Mrs. Farnsworth had not
been “wounded,” but had been killed
outright and all but beheaded. More-
over, there were no signs that Farns-
worth and Lindsay had struggled with
an axe, nor were there any axe wounds
on Farnsworth’s body. As to the
blood trail leading up the stairs, and
nenal
i for
ht he
al of
vy, we
ening
.o my
cked
made
ie the
»wn's
hand
ered,
—
ceases El Sti
“You're bringing me luck.” We left
to go to the bar for a few minutes
and I said:
ha can’t I win like you do, Carl-
ton? If you keep this up, you'll be
as rich as Croesus in another week!”
“Youre doing all right, June. I
saw you rake in $400 on one turn.”
“Well, I’d like to play as you do to-
night. But I haven’t the cash with
me.” I looked unhappily into my bag.
“Look, dear, do you want to lend me
some money tonight?”
“But of course! How much do you
want?” He pulled out his wallet.
“I want to play for high stakes.
Could you give me $15,000? I could
give you a check tomorrow morning,
or even the cash if I go to the bank,
but suppose right now I put my pearl
necklace in pawn to you?”
“It isn’t that—’ he began, as_ he
a out fifteen thousand-dollar
ills.
“But I insist!” I said, kissing him on
the top of his head.
“All right, June, if you say 80,0... 3
stuffed the bills in my bag, and he put
the fake necklace in his wallet.
We walked together to the tables
and began to play.
Half an hour later I was about even.
I had lost a thousand and won it back.
CRIME DETECTIVE
When Carlton was busy, I dropped the
chips in my bag and whis ered to
him, “Excuse me a minute, I'll be right
back.”
It was then about five in the morn-
ing. The first plane left at six. I sent
a page-boy to Mr. Brown with a note
saying I was feeling ill from the cig-
arette smoke, and would he call me
first thing in the morning?
Before noon, I was back in Man-
hattan. I had my pearl necklace, and
after deducting expenses I was richer
by almost a $15,000!
Somehow I felt that I had struck
back at Romero and Pollock, as I
counted my cash and deposited it at
my bank.
How Mr. Carlton Brown felt, I didn’t
care....
My Miami victim was only the first
of a succession of Carlton Browns with
different names in Palm Beach, New-
port, New York, Pinehurst and Bar
Harbor. Some of them were more
difficult to swindle than Mr. Brown—
but not many. After every such coup,
I hurried back to New York and _lost
myself in the social whirl of Park
Avenue. For a long time _no one
thought of associating June Lambert,
the girl who appeared at out-of-town
gambling dens, with Miss Cecilia
91
Wainsworth, the New York Socialite.
But the time came when, despite my
careful planning, one of my victims
caught up with me. In this instance,
I had foolishly neglected to discover
in what business a Mr. Goldfarb of
Baltimore was engaged. It developed
he was a jeweler! It took him a year
to trace the manufacturer of a fake
necklace, but in the end he found the
copyist and had him arrested. The
frightened copyist described me in
such detail that the New York police
didn’t have the slightest difficulty in
identifying me.
When they also found the real neck-
lace—my dead father’s gift to me on
my eighteenth birthday—as well as
four copies of it and replicas of other
of my jewels, I decided it was futile
to plead not guilty.
But because I was able to make
partial restitution, I received a sen-
tence of only five years.
But five years is a long, long time.
It is 1825 days, or 43,800 hours.
I often wonder here whether my
revenge on society was worth the
price. And whether the reward of
thrills is enough to pay the costs of
living pe ve agro fe
Romero’s in jail, too. I wonder how
he feels about it....
“Well, gents, how’s that?”
The men were silent for a few mo-
ments, mulling over the sheriff’s per-
suasive reconstruction of the grisly
tragedy. The State police officer was
the first to speak.
“That’s fairly convincing, sheriff.
There’s just one point about it I don’t
like. Why did Mrs. Farnsworth run
to the cellar? If she was terrified,
after a struggle or quarrel up there in
the bedroom, you’d think she would
be more likely to run outdoors. What
do you say?”
“That’s possible, lieutenant. But
consider this: She may have been so
terrified that she ran to the first place
she thought .of—and then found her-
self trapped in the cellar. Or she
might have headed for the cellar be-
cause she knew the axe was there
and she wanted a weapon to protect
herself—Farnsworth had_ seized the
revolver which, incidentally, was hers.
Or at least I know she had a permit
for one, because I made it out myself.
Then also, it might have been un-
natural for her to run outdoors, even
if she was frightened, because of the
weather. In the last few days, you
know, it’s been below zero almost all
the time.”
The district attorney’s ace man, El-
mer Miller, said nothing, but an ex-
lag ang of dissatisfaction spread over
is face.
“So that’s how it was, boys,” the
sheriff concluded. “I’ll make some
routine inquiries around the county,
and see if we can find out how the
Farnsworths got along together, but
I figure we can write it off the books.
Sam, you and your partner stay here
until the coroner and fingerprint man
arrives. Bring the bodies into the
BLOODLESS
CONTINUED FROM
morgue at Little Valley. The rest of
you fellows can go and get a night’s
sleep. Will one of you fellows get my
car started?”
The men trooped out into the snow,
relieved to be dismissed. The sheriff
turned around, preparatory to leaving,
and noticed that Elmer Miller was
again kneeling down beside Farns-
worth’s body, and that he had picked
up the gun.
“Be careful!” he warned Miller.
“That gun’s got to be examined for
fingerprints. I haven’t any doubt that
we'll find Farnsworth’s prints on it,
but handle it with care, wimer.”
“Okay, sheriff. I’m holding it by
the barrel with a handkerchief. But
say, sheriff, take a gander.”
mploying great care, Carlson took
the gun from Miller’s hand, holding
the weapon by the covering handker-
chief.
-“What about it?” the sheriff asked.
“I saw before that one bullet had been
fired—the one in his head, I suppose.”
“Take another look, sheriff, and
then take another glance at Farns-
worth.”
The sheriff did as directed. He
looked minutely at the gun in his
hands, and then turned his eyes again
at the blood-spattered hands of the
dead farmer.
“Holy Christmas!” the sheriff roared,
the light of understanding in his eyes.
“We very nearly muffed this by_a
terrible blunder. Why, look here, El-
mer, there’s no blood on the gun! Do
you know what that means?”
“Sure, I do, Lester,” Miller replied.
“It means that Farnsworth didn’t kill
his wife. It seemed hard to believe,
even from the first. We've all heard
how attached they were to each other.
CLUE
PAGE 45
Most of us have heard of the time he
was hurt, working alone out there in
the field—kicked by a horse, or some-
thing—and how his wife found him
and actually carried him on her back
to the house to give him first aid and
then phone for a doctor. She had
-been kind to him, and he appreciated
her kindness. No, he didn’t kill his
wife—and he didn’t kill himself. It
means that we’ve got a double mur-
der on our hands.”
The sheriff sat down heavily in a
rocker. “Go call back the men,” he
directed.
And it was then that Miller stepped
out on the porch, and called to the
shivering deputies, “Come on back,
you lugs, and get to work!”
P vite Carlson and Miller pointed’
out the discrepancy in their
“child’s-play” solution of the murders,
the deputies exchanged sheepish looks.
“Go over the ground again outside,”
the sheriff ordered. “And,” he added,
as an afterthought, “what about Farns-
worth’s car? nybody seen it?”
“Come to think about it, it’s not
around, sheriff,’ Sam remarked. “It
was a Ford, knocked down to a kind
of truck, and I noticed once that.
Farnsworth had built a trick rack in
the back for his milk cans.” .
“Well, if it’s not around, chances
are a hundred to one it was stolen by
the murderer. Get going and spread
out. Sam, you get back to town, and
send out a six-State alarm for any
suspicious characters who moey admit
to being in this vicinity the past
week.”
The investigators now had to revise
all their conclusions about the case.
When the coroner came, he made an
92
interesting point. This official, Wil-
liam Smith, of Olean, said:
“The appearance of the man’s body
is very deceiving. I'll take your word
for it that the man didn't commit
suicide. It is true that there are no
powder burns. But everything else
might point to suicide, because it is
plain to me that Farnsworth didn’t do
any struggling. He didn’t mix with
the man who killed him.”
“What makes you say that, Doc?”
“Well, look here. First, if you for-
get about the blood for a moment,
consider his clothes. . They aren’t
dishevelled, as they would have been
had he been fighting for his life. And
if, in a fight, he had been shot in the
head, his face would doubtless have
been contorted. But see? To judge
by the expression, the farmer never
knew what hit him, and he never ex-
pected to meet the killer.”
This was a cardinal point for the
investigators. It su gested forcefully
that someone had lain in wait for
Farnsworth, possibly hiding behind
the front door as the farmer entered.
Carlson and Miller agreed that, in all
toate the wife ‘was murdered -
rst—that was suggested by the trail
of blood on the stairs.
An unpleasant question to study
was the manner in which Farns-
worth’s clothes had become bloodied
below his waist. . . . Since it was
now certain that Farnsworth was-not
the killer, the man who committed
the murders must have smeared the
farmer’s hands with blood and bits of
bone and flesh from the body of his
wife! A revolting aspect of the case!
Yet the blood on his clothes could not
be his own. Farnsworth’s blood from
the fatal head wound had flowed
down his face and across the lank
floor, at right angles to the head.
Nowhere had it approached his hands.
“The murderer,” Miller said, “must
have been a pretty wily guy. He al-
most fooled us. The set-up looked
precisely like what it wasn’'t—like
murder and suicide. The killer, after
putting the gun under his arm, went
so far as to smear his victim with Mrs.
Farnsworth’s blood, and to bloody the
farmer’s hands. He didn’t realize that
this was where he slipped up, because
he forgot to put blood on the gun.
Just a couple of bloodstains would
have been sufficient to mislead us
completely.”
The murderer may have “slipped,”
as Miller had observed, but the in-
vestigators were still a long way from
catching him. The latter might be
supposed to have at least a four-day
advantage, which would mean that the
trail might be as cold as the weather.
They were without vy | clue to his
identity. It might even be a woman—
the use of an axe as a lethal weapon
does not necessitate the strength of a
man, in every case.
“While we're waiting, sheriff, give
us a line on the dead man,” the State
Police officer asked. ‘You said before
you knew his background.”
“Yes, Well, Farnsworth, under the
alias of Harry C. Race, was tried here
at Little Valley five or six years ago
for carrying concealed weapons, and
that’s where his record came out.
Some years back, at Montpelier, Ver-
mont, the police nabbed him for sim-
ple breach of the peace. On another
charge, a few months later, he was
found guilty at Waterbury, Connecti-
cut, went to jail there for a year, and
then was picked up afterward on a
white-slavery charge. That wasn’t
CRIME DETECTIVE
det
Pus
Park, N. J.
_ BEATEN TO DEATH
The body of Mrs. Emma Evans Ross, above, of Camden, N. J.. was
found lying in a lonely section of a “Lover's Lane” in National
Mrs. Ross, who was 35, had been beaten to death,
Idontification was made by police through a Social Security Card.
SAE RY shy (Te Rest A Neen
ey as
enough for him. In Nassau County,
out on Long Island, he was picked for
burglary, and sent to Sing Sing. For
variety’s sake, he got short terms
afterward at Auburn and Clinton
prison.
“Now then, we come to_ his arrest
in Cattaraugus County. His record
was so bad that the judge gave him a
five-year rap. He went to Auburn
Prison again. However, at the trial,
the official court stenographer got in-
terested in him. Don’t ask me why.
She was then Bernice Kenyon and,
for a woman of 47, she was still quite
a looker with a nice figure. You'll
have guessed where she is now—
downstairs in the cellar.
“She fell for this man. I suppose
she was sorry for him, and hoped to
reform him after he had served his
time. I know that she used to send
him quotations from Omar Khayyam,
and that regularly she each week
made the trip to Auburn to visit him.
When he came out, in August, 1934,
Bernice and he were married. She
sls t this place then, and he went to
work. From what I had heard the
last year, they were doing pretty well.
Farnsworth wasn’t a talkative sort,
and the two of them appeared in town
not more than once a month—outside
of his daily trips to deliver milk at the
wholesale dairy in Little Valley, From
what I gathered, he behaved Bai
and I sappare was pretty grateful to
Bernice. But, Miller, with that record
behind him, you can understand why
I jumped to the conclusion that he
had butchered her.”
At this point, the sheriff's deputies
returned. Sat
perior.
“A hundred yer
sheriff, we found th
worth had built fe
converted car. | It
apparatus—you'd }
with it to take 1!
There’s a nut-anc
that went under t!
besides Farnswo!
worked, though, b
off and into a sn
of our men into
worth’s license !
and that’s probab
to the six-State <
The removal 0:
Miller and Carls:
“AVL right,” St
remarked. “Wh
about a gadget
wife mig t—but
take it off the ba
else? Well, my
—-a helper. At
a suspect. He »
farm 10 miles
county-wide ©
and sobriety, ®!
every hour ©!
weeks. .
But the iden
osed a knotty
os had work:
Farnsworth, b
seen him.
Little Valley ~
another man —
he drove the
the creamery.
vide a descrip
Meanwhile,
seeking |
worth’s 1
spent til
would’ know ‘
had made son
The wardens
Auburn co-'
with the ‘
Literally, hu
questioned 11
Boiled dov
son was ab!
avenue of i
large, Farnsv
type of man
himself, nev
and behave:
finement.
“He even
weary Carls
on a night +
miserating ‘
he went re
on Sunday
much as ‘A
one time o!
did a lot 0:
anyone wh
his mouth
they get h
AYS |
And t
the stolen
and itiner:
into cust
and adjoi!
tioning sh
at the Fa:
Miller
other an¢
employee
Farnswor
milk.
94
the blood with which Farnsworth's
body had been smeared, Lindsay of-
fered no explanation. The jury recog-
nized that this part of the scene, hor-
rible and revolting as it was, had been
“planted” by Lindsay.
In April, 1935, he was found guilty
of first-degree murder, and he was
CRIME DETECTIVE
later cleetrocuted at Sing eine. ;
Lindsay had very nearly, esigned
the perfect crime. Authorities admit-
ted that, had the ex-convict put blood
on the revolver, the probabilities
were that the case would have been
marked “Closed,” and dismissed as a
murder and suicide. His other mis-
-
take was to wear gloves. Of course,
luck smiled on Detective Notheis in
the Seventh Avenue cafeteria, but the
chances were that eventually Lindsay
would have been picked up. A tattoo
is a distinct handicap to a man hunted
bt the police. And wearing gloves in
all seasons makes one conspicuous,
DETECTIVE
at her neck, she readily admitted that
she had filled the quinine capsules for
Mrs. Horton. Then shock swept across
her face when Lacy tersely informed
her about the strychnine. ;
“I can hardly believe it,” she whis-
pered. “Why, Elta was the finest
woman you’d ever want to know.”
“T believe that,” cut in Lacy, impa-
tiently, “but nevertheless somebody
substituted the quinine in those cap-
sules for strychnine. Enough, in fact,
to kill two score people. Now, you
say you handled the quinine—”
“T"still say it,” nodded the widow,
shadowy horror in her eyes. “I cer-
tainly have nothing to hide. And I
can prove that when Elta took the
capsules from here, they held nothing
but quinine.”
To corroborate her statement, she
called Ruth Slagle, a pretty young
schoolteacher who -boarded with her,
and her hired man, and both related
how they had seen Mrs. Johnson take
the quinine from a bottle plainly
marked and fill the capsules.
“There could have n no mis-
take,” said Miss Slagle.
Lacy had to admit as much as he
thanked Mrs. Johnson for her help,
and then drove hha to the Horton
farm two miles down the road. Floyd
Horton met him in the barnlot.
“It seems like I’ll have to go over
the house,” the sheriff said. “Your
wife died of strychnine. An autopsy
proved that without doubt.”
Horton’s face was wretched. “I
don’t know how it happened.” He
paused, agony filling his eyes. ‘The
only thing I can think of is that—”
He stopped uncertainly, his eyes low-
ered.
“What’re you thinking?” prodded
— tensely.
orton looked up. “Well, it’s pos-
sible that Elta meant to take the
poison,” he said slowly.
“Do you know of any reason?” Lacy
shot at him.
The farmer shook his head. ‘No,
we were happy. Never had any quar-
rels ... always got along just fine.”
Lacy had a counter remark about
the suicide suggestion, but he held it
back. Perhaps a more opportune mo-
ment would present itself. He didn’t
want to disturb Horton too much until
he had made a more thorough investi-
gation.
Shifting the line of conversation,
Lacy assured the farmer that his
search of the house was only a routine
course of investigation.
“You’re welcome to look around,”
Horton said.
But the examination of the house
brought no results. Two hours later
he returned to Clearfield, puzzled
THE ACCUSING CORPSE
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 55
about where to turn next. He found
that County Attorney Warin had the
answer to that.
His eyes shining with excitement,
Warin pushed the sheriff down in a
chair in the Clearfield police office.
Then he explained that he had un-
covered a bit of vital information.
“The motive?” queried Lacy tersely.
“Maybe,” Warin said. “I learned
from several of Horton’s neighbors
that he’s something of a lady’s man.
And what’s important, Elta knew
about his tendencies.”
Lacy slowly drew a finger down his
left cheek, digesting that startling in-
formation. hen he. glanced up
sharply. “That helps—in a way. But
it could be suicide after all. Elta be-
came jealous ... and took the poison
in a fit of spite.”
“J doubt it,” Warin countered. “Elta
once told a neighbor that she’d never
give up Floyd for any other woman.
Suicide would naturally open the way
for him to marry someone else.
don’t think she would have done that.”
; 5 how who Floyd was interested
in?”
Warin laughed shortly. “More than
one. About a year ago he had a young
girl fall in love with him. Her folks
sent her to another town to break it
up.”
Lacy was silent a moment. “I think
we have the murderer in Horton, in
fact, I haven’t doubted it a moment.
This afternoon he tried to suggest
suicide, but you remember how Dr.
Walton maintained that he had falsi-
fied his description of Elta’s sickness
to make it look like a heart attack.”
Some of Warin’s enthusiasm faded.
“I agree that Horton undoubtedly
administered the poison. For the
reason that he wanted to be free to
marry someone else. But mere sus-
picion won’t convict a man in court.
The way things stand now, he has a
dozen loopholes to squirm out of.
We've got to dig up evidence that
proves he wanted his wife out of the
way. Once we find the woman, the
one he may have wanted to marry, we
may be able to tear down his story
through her.”
Lacy hurried back to Bedford to
check on the Pree his aides had
made in searching the record books
on poison sales in towns around
Clearfield. But he was to get little
encouragement from that source.
The deputies had done a thorough
job, but they had been unable to un-
cover a single suspicious sale.
“We covered every town within a
fifty-mile radius,” one deputy re-
ported.
The next morning, Sheriff Lacy
started the probe of hotels and tourist
camps in neighboring towns. He him-
self joined in the hunt and by noon
had traveled 150 miles into Missouri,
just across the state line from Taylor
County. ;
At each town he carefully studied
drugstore records on strychnine sales,
and then visited the local hotels and
tourist camps. Evening came, and he
had probed 16 Missouri towns without
uncovering a single lead.
Finally he made his last stop—a
small, second-rate hotel. The clerk
examined the guest register and failed
to find Horton’s name.
“Nope. He didn’t stop here.”
Wearily Lacy gave Horton’s de-
scription. He felt something like a
run-down phonograph record, repeat-
ing the farmer’s appearance for the
two dozenth time that day. “Tall...
lean... dark... about 35...”
Suddenly the clerk spun the pages
on the register, stopped, and then his
finger settled on the name: Gordon
Calvert. The date line was December
18, 1935.
“That must be the bird!” he ex-
claimed. “I thought there was some-
thing wrong with this Calvert—or
whatever his name is—the night he
checked in.”
“He fits Horton’s description, eh?”
queried Lacy tensely.
“Yeah ... And I remember now,
because some woman registered a few
minutes after he did.”
Lacy straightened. “What was her
name?” ;
The clerk indicated an entry be-
low “Calvert’s” name. Scrawled in a
heavy but unmistakably feminine
hand was: Mrs. A. Cornwall.
Lacy searched his memory, but the
name failed to make an impression.
Or did it? Faintly, he began to won-
der where he had seen it before.
Somewhere, lately, he was becoming
sure.
“Remember what she looked like?”
he asked.
He waited with bated breath, but
the clerk could only frown in puzzle-
ment. “You know,” he said, “it’s a
funny thing, but I didn’t get a look
at her face at all. She had on a heavy
black veil and her coat collar was
turned up high. I don’t think I'd
know her again in a month of Mon-
days.
“But I remember the two of ’em
well. They had separate rooms on
the same floor, and they got to drink-
ing in this Calvert’s room and I had
to knock on the door to silence them.
They were cuttin’ up Se pe high.”
Lacy was disappointed at the failure
to secure a line on Horton’s woman
companion, yet the findings at least
bolstered his determination to search
rs. A. Cornwall, «
* had been on the
strychnine purchase
50 miles back!
A N hour and a ha)
—_ Logs ™
da asked for a
Casares. Excitem¢
when he pointed ©
A. Cornwall.
“Remember this
asked. :
The druggist sc
“yeah ... I reme!
ow, Just tell me
place. I’m very
and can account
very minute.”
what you were
clock last night,”
ross Valle’s lips.
> I was at aye
1 from 7 o’cloc
ing my business
9 partners in the
secretary were
puts you in the
: you had better
while we check
in acquiescence.
f the slain man
porch to a hat-
s bent his head
is time element
ead. Remember
ed from Spring-
And we ruled -
ot was heard at
fingers. “Maybe
'w, Stratton told
ends were just
oarty. What was
m leaving again
rility I saw,” the
2 one chance of
Te said he saw
\ during the eve-
it to ask him at
happened across
it will mean
“Since we're in
cht as well check
Nhile the sheriff
d the back seat,
rain and headed
ranch, A heavy
serted place.
bly is staying
2,” Guthrie ob- |
his cottage was
the main house.
rought them to
on the far side
can, sitting on a’
ng a splintered
ers approached,
1.
one more ques-
“It’s extremely .
his settled defi-
when you saw
ght?”
2d back his hat
in deep thought.
exactly.”
fter 9 o’clock?”
Duncan’s voice
tiently. “Look
iny trouble be-
ger?”
fuss they had
heir land.” The
‘Of course, that
t it never was
v of,”
!" Evans ex-
sily account for
iandful of grass
face! And that,
eyes had caught
ff’s eye. Follow-
e deputy saw'a
ph a
to prove that,”
Pv,
Mi u
a
i
+ 5
z rat : SEN
patch: ofsstragg
into. the bare, har
‘of the cottage.
‘ing it tested.
xl of the fron
pir
pth ttre
ARES 3
Both officers slowly turned: their ey
on Duhcan. “That's not rye grass, is
Guthrie asked slowly..° >. |
stuff—it spreads like a prairie fire.”
The sheriff nodded. “Better get a sample
of that,’ he: said to: Evans. .““And take
along a handful of the soil. We can test
it for fertilizer to see if it matches the |
“al big clinging to the grass on Springer’s
ace.”
“Test it? What, this grass?” Duncan’s
voice rose shrilly. “No need to test this
grass, How could a murderer come around
here without me knowing about it?”
“That’s what I’m wondering,” Guthrie
replied slowly, ‘and that’s why I’m hav-
You had better come’ along
with us in the meantime.” :
About an hour later the two officers,
Valle. and Duncan were seated in. the
sheriff’s office when Martin, the labora-
tory expert, brought in his report. Not
only was the grass from Duncan's yard ©
similar to that found on the dead .man’s
face, but both had grown in soil, treated
with the same kind of fertilizer, :,
¢
‘@ Okay, u r
Duncan suppose you tell:us why,
out to murder Springer.” i040 0:
- “That's. a lie!” the, farnier, screamed.
“He attacked me first—came at-me with,
that knifé. It was him or me, I tell you.”
/ Seizing Duncan’s wrist, Evans quieted
him.) “Now? that you -jadmit- killing
Springer, tell us why.” ie
“IT told you he was coming for me with
that knife.” The farmer’s yellowing teeth
showed between his cringing lips, “It was
self defense, I didn’t want. to fire, even
after I had the gun in my hand, but when
he nicked me with the knife, there was
nothing else todo.” aj
Guthrie didn’t’appear fully convinced.
“We'll see about that.” Releasing Valle’
from custody, the sheriff ordered Duncan
placed into a cell to quiet down, .
: “This -fellow Duncan: sure put on a
fancy act last night,” Evans: remarked
-when he and the sheriff were alone. “Rip-
ping out the telephone and climbing up
in that tree. And he was smart enough to
take the gun along—thereby accounting
for his fingerprints on it,”
““T wonder if we'll find his prints on that
knife, too,” the sheriff said softly. -
The question about the knife was soon
answered; Although no fingerprints other
than Springer’s were found on the handle,
another factor indicated that Duncan’s
i kbre
claim of self defense was as false as his
masquerade of the previous night. The
blood on the ‘knife blade, Martin found,
was Springer’s. “The killer merely dabbed
the knife in the blood flowing from the
gun wounds,” the criminologist explained.
“That about clinches the case against
Duncan,” Evans opined.
Faced with this latest evidence, the
lanky farmer cracked. “He ordered me
off his land,” Duncan confessed before an
official stenographer. “Said I wasn’t fit to
farm his property. Well, last night, I went
up to have it out with him. I ripped out
a handful of the grass and soil to show
him I could throw his precious land into
his face. Then, when I saw the gun stand-
ing in the corner, I grabbed it and fired.”
One week later, the, Dallas County
Grand Jury returned an indictment for
murder and on July 8, 1947, the case came
to trial in Criminal District Court Num-
ber 2. However, after five jurors had been
chosen from the panel, Duncan’s attorney
suddenly offered a plea of guilty.
At 7 p.m., after a hectic ‘day in the
courtroom, Judge Henry King accepted
the plea and sentenced Robert Duncan
.to life imprisonment for the harvest of
hate slaying of (Bud) Springer.
(The names Peter Valle and Warren Stratton are
fictitious to prevent embarrassment to persons in-
nocently involved in the investigations.—The
Editor.
> MURDER
-PHANTOM’S —
“DOUBLE
VENGEANCE
{c ontinued from page 12]
be succesful and live happily ever after,
Bernice soon found employment as
secretary to County Judge Orla Black
and for ten years she served him well and
faithfully, covering many trials as court
stenographer and handling all the judge’s
work between sessions,
Then, one day, when she was 42 years
old, she was taking notes at’ the trial of
one Harold Farnsworth, alias Harry
Race, and as she watched the young man
in the prisoner’s dock, romance came to
her, She still was an unusually attractive
woman, her dark hair.and eyes and slim
figure giving her an appearance of youth —
far less than her actual years.
Farnsworth was accused of carrying
concealed weapons . without a permit. \
Bernice heard his record. He had been
convicted in Vermont for breach of the -
peace. He had served a sentence in
Waterbury, Conn., on a_ white slave
charge, He had done time in Sing,Sing,
Auburn and Clinton Prisons and in New"
York State for burglary.
Bernice Kenyon knew his record was
bad. But Farnsworth was a handsome
chap and there was something about him
that at first.evoked her interest and later,
while he awaited sentence in the Little
Valley Jail, ripened into love.
She visited him every day and talked
with him, always urging him to reform
and lead an honest life. At last, just be-
fore he was to be sent to Clinton Prison
for a five-year term, she promised to wait
pal him and marry him when he was again
ree,
Bernice went back to her work with
«
iii
si vests y ¢ 2
J udge Black with alight heart and during
the months that followed, she again
worked on the story she! always wanted
to write. But now she saw in Farnsworth
her hero and in herself the heroine. Daily
she wrote to Farnsworth, reminding him
of the happy years they would have to-
gether. Pree 85 Ne i Bie
Then the day. came that Farnsworth
was paroled. His conduct had. been per-
fect in prison ‘and .a few days after he
returned to Little Valley he and Bernice
were! married, The match ‘had-been bit-
terly opposed by her relatives and friends,
but the woman was détermined.
| During ‘the years she had saved some
fnoney and after the wedding she re-
signed ‘her position,. bought the little
farm in remote Coldspring Township,
‘stocked it and she and Farnsworth settled
down to make their lives together. Up to
this point her real life story had gone as
she dreamed of it for her book, but now
the plot had changed and instead of hap-
iness throughout the years, tragedy had
rought the tale to a. sudden close.
HEN Sheriff Carlson had finished,
the others. shook their heads
solemnly. ;
“Tt looks to me,” Carlson said, ‘as
though they had quarreled about some-
thing, perhaps money that Farnsworth
had attempted to take from the strong
box upstairs. Maybe she caught him try-
ing to open the box. Then a fight started
and he. followed her down to the cellar
‘and in his rage struck her with the ax,
Coming back upstairs he realized what
he had done and shot himself.”
Presently Coroner Smith arrived. After
examining Farnsworth’s body, he stated
the man had been shot through the heart
with one bullet, probably fired from the
weapon that was found 'nearby.
_ There were powder burns on the man’s
coat around the tiny hole made by the
bullet, indicating the shot had been fired
at close range, perhaps as near as within
‘ six inches, the coroner said.
_. Examination of the woman’s body ‘in
the basement, showed she had been struck
with the ax on the head several times.
Her torn clothing suggested a struggle
with her, assailant. Inspection of her
hands and fingernails, led the coroner to
suspect she had perhaps scratched her
assailant in a battle for her life. Carefully,
he scraped underneath her fingernails,
saving the particles of material for ex-
amination in the laboratory.
Coroner Smith then ordered the bodies
removed, refusing to call the double
tragedy murder and suicide until he
would have’an opportunity to examine
‘the result of laboratory tests and in-
vestigate further the following day. He
estimated both victims had been dead
about three days,
Sheriff Carlson placed a guard at the
house for the night.
The following day Miller returned to
the Farnsworth house and started a thor-
ough investigation. Fingerprints, found
in profusion, were compared with those
of the victims and were found to be theirs.
The ax handle was so badly smeared with
blood and dirt, no prints of value could
be found. The bullet had been removed
from Farnsworth’s body and upon ex-
amination. by ballistics experts in Buffalo,
was declared to have been fired from the
gun found near the dead man’s body. And
the gun was identified by relatives as
having been the property of Bernice.
The theory of murder and suicide was
growing stronger in the minds of Sheriff
Carlson and Miller and even the coroner
was coming around to it, in view of
Farnsworth’s record.
Then, late in the afternoon of the sec-
ond day after the discovery, Ira Bennett
and Whitmore were being questioned by
Miller again, when Bennett said:
“Say, I just happened to think. Farns-
worth had a new coupe, on the rear of
which he built a removable platform for
hauling cans of milk to the creamery. I
haven’t seen it around since we found the
bodies and I wonder where it is.”
An immediate search of the yard and
barns failed to turn up the car, or the
small platform which Bennett said could
be removed easily by unfastening some
clamps.
57
on
HE weather had been bitterly cold for days
_ that March and a heavy snowfall had blan-
keted the countryside of western New York
‘State. Now the storm had abated and in its wake had left
roads piled high with drifted snow and a temperature
below zero. fee
Ira Bennett glanced at his hired man, William Whit-
eas 4
as a =
nines,
~~
more, across the kitchen table of the Coldspring Township
farmhouse in the hills of Cattaraugus County. His eyes
twinkled good-naturedly as he saw the fellow half asleep
in the warmth of the big room, his stomach bulging after
the hearty noon-day meal.
“Bill,” he said, watching Whitmore straighten up and
rub his eyes, “there’s too much snow to work in the woodlot
today, but after that two-day vacation you just had in town,
you better do something or you'll go lazy on me, so why
don’t you hitch up the team and take that bobsled back to
Farnsworth before we get another storm and the road is
entirely blocked. He may need it in this heavy snow to
haul his milk to the creamery.”
Whitmore pushed his chair back with a rasping sound
on the floor and walked slowly to thé door as though re-
luctant to do the bidding of his employer. Then he donned
a heavy coat, fur-lined cap with ear mufflers, thick leather
mittens and started for the barn. A few moments later the
horses were harnessed and he was on his way to the neigh-
bor’s place with the bobsled in tow.
It was a scant two miles from the Bennett farm to Farns-
worth’s place, but the going was slow along the unbroken
highway. Now and then as the horses plodded through the
drifts, Whitmore dropped the reins and swung his arms
vigorously to restore circulation in his chilling fingers.
As he drove along he talked aloud to himself.
“She never should have married him. She was a swell
girl and he’s no good.”
Presently he reached the driveway leading to the barns
on the Farnsworth farm. He turned the horses in with a
tug on the reins. As they plodded through the knee deep
drifts, Whitmore noted with surprise there was no smoke
curling from the house chimney. Also, he saw no evidence
‘ of anyone having entered or left in the narrow driveway.
In front of the barn the farm hand pulled up his horses
with a loud ‘‘Whoa!”
For a moment he stood up in the sled and looked around.
Then cupping his hands to his mouth he called: ‘Hello
there!”
There was no answer except. the echo of his voice from
the wooded hills behind the buildings. From somewhere in
the distance there came the bawling of cows. Whitmore
waited, then said aloud: “Guess they've gone away.”
He unhooked the bobsled and was about to return to his
employer’s farm when the bawling of the cattle again
‘ wy figure, far left, approached
the imsuspecting housewife who bravely
but: unstccessfully struggled with the
intruder, The attack: occurred in the
=. <a basementof the lonely
drew his attention. He decided to investigate. Strange,
he thought, that farmers with cattle to feed and milk should
be away at this hour of the day.
Plodding through the snow, he went to the rear of the
barn where he knew the cattle were kept in a corral during
the winter when they were not at pasture. *
As he approached, the bawling increased. At the gate to
the barnyard he saw a dozen half-starved cows that ap-
peared not to have been fed for several days. Inside the
barn a pair of horses, tethered in their stalls, were frantic
from hunger and thirst.
“Something's wrong here,” the man said and started
toward the house. Several times he called, but there was
no answer and no sign of life. He noticed there were no
paths shoveled, no footprints in the snow as he came to the
back porch. Observing the back door ajar, he pushed it
open and called: ‘Hey, Farnsworth .. + Bernice!”
Alarmed when he received no answer, Whitmore closed
the door and hurried back to his team and the sled. He
pushed them as much as possible on the return trip to the
Bennett farm.
Ira was in the barn when Whitmore drove in. “Say,”
he began, “there’s noes funny over there,” pointing
toward the Farnsworth place. ‘There isn’t anybody home
and the livestock hasn’t been fed for two or three days.”
Bennett put down the fork with which he had been
spreading straw in the horses’ stalls. He listened to his
helper tell what he had found, then said: “Maybe they are
sick. We'd better go over and find out.”
A half hour later Bennett and Whitmore drove into the
Farnsworth yard. This time
Bennett hurried past the
The vengeful murderer, at
right, shortly after his cap-
ture. Below, Farmer Ira
Bennett, pointing, and his
helper, Bill Whitmore dis-
covered the two bodies.
barn and straight’to the back door of the house. Pushing
it open he called loudly: “Harold... Bernice!”
Bennett entered the kitchen followed by Whitmore. The
room was bitterly cold with no evidence there had been a
fire in the stove that day. He noticed an inch.or more of ice
on a bucket of water that stood in the sink. Pushing on into
the living room he started: to call out again, then recoiled
as he saw a body on the floor. It was Farnsworth and Ira
knew at once he was dead.
Bennett turned to the lagging Whitmore, “I’ll look up-
stairs for Bernice and you take a look down cellar,” The
men. separated but before Bennett reached the hall at the
top of the stairs he heard a cry from Whitmore.
“Ira... come quick . .. she’s in the cellar!”
Bennett hurrieddown the stairs and into the dimly
lighted basement. There lay the battered body of Mrs.
Farnsworth and beside her a bloodstained ax.
Without attempting to explore further the two men re-
turned to the Bennett homestead and telephoned Sheriff
Lester Carlson, at the county seat in Little Valley.
Carlson, when informed of the double tragedy, lost no
time in rounding up Elmer Miller, a former sheriff and
then chief investigator for District Attorney A. Edward
Krieger, and Lieut. William’ George of the Friendship
State Police Barracks, and starting for the Farnsworth
homestead. Arriving there at dusk, they found Bennett and
Whitmore waiting for them.’
“We came back here to feed the stock and see that noth-
ing was touched until you arrived,” Ira told the officers.
“Good,” Carlson responded. “Let’s take a look around,
then you and Whitmore tell us what you know.”
They first examined the dead man as well as they
could without moving him before the coroner ar-
rived. It was obvious he had been shot through the
chest with a single bullet. Near the body lay a small
revolver. After marking the spot where it lay on the
floor and making a note of its position, Carlsén
- picked it up and examined it. One shell had been
discharged.
There was no evidence of struggle in the living
room, with all the furniture apparently in its proper
place.
Next the officers went to the basement. A shocking
sight greeted them as they played the beams of their
flashlights on the body. of the dead woman. She had
been virtually decapitated. At the foot of the stairway
they found the ax which was obviously the murder
weapon. Leaving everything as they found it, they
returned to the kitchen to await the coroner.
A search in the upstairs bedrooms disclosed noth-
ing except that’a bureau drawer had been opened and
ransacked and nearby on the floor lay a small metal box
of the type used to hold papers and cash. An attempt had
been made to pry it open.
While they waited for Coroner Smith, Carlson, Miller,
and Lieutenant George discussed the case. They agreed it’
had every appearance of murder and suicide. As they
talked, the sheriff told the state trooper what he knew of -
the Farnsworths. It was a strange story.
Mrs, Farnsworth was well known throughout the county.
For many years in her younger days, she had been active
in Salamanca society and had ambitions to be an author.
' But like so many other hopeful writers, her stories never
seemed quite to make the grade with editors and eventually
she sought employment as a secretary, for which she had
been trained in school.
Her name then had been Bernice Kenyon, daughter of
an old and well known family in the little city of 18,000
citizens. Even then she talked with friends of the novel
she wanted to write. It was to be a story of regenera-
tion; of a young woman who met a criminal and, falling
in love with him, waited until he had served his prison
sentence, then married him. She. would reform him
and he would become an honest man and the two would
LC oniamned on page 57]
a”
“ ARK it in the record, Exhibit 4,”
Mr. Justice Hallett ordered, nod-
ding to the somberly-dressed clerk of.
the Old Bailey, London. The clerk rose
to gather up 13 closely-written sheets.
Reginald Sidney Buckfield, nick-
named “Smiler,” sat in the prisoner’s
dock, a fixed grin on his swarthy face.
Charged with the fatal stabbing of Mrs.
Ellen Symes on Brompton Road, Strood,
nothing had been proved against him up
to this point.
At 9:30 p. m., October 9, 1942, Mrs.
Symes ended the weekly visit with her
parents, and with a good-bye wave
pushed the cart containing her 4-year-
old son down the dark road.
Some ten minutes later a man walk- ~
ing in his garden stiffened as a shriek
pierced the night. Rushing out, he
found Mrs. Symes crumpled at the
side of the road. Blood gushed from a
wound in her’ neck.
About 9 a. m. the next morning a con-
stable halted Buckfield, strolling near
Brompton Road. Dressed in the uni-
form of the Royal Artillery but unable
to show a leave pass, he was hurried off
to the detective office at Rochester.
He readily admitted being AWOL.
Although police questioned him at
length, they did not refer to the murder
of Mrs. Symes. . /
“Where was I last night?” Buckfiel
said to the Chief Constable. “I was at
the Steam Engine till after 8. About.10
p. m. I went to sleep in a haystack out
Dallywood Lane.”
Restlessly pacing his cell the night of
October 10, Buckfield asked for paper
and pencil. For four days until arrival
of the military escort that was to take
him back to camp, he scribbled away.
When the escort finally marched in he
assembled his papers, and handed them
to a detective who stood by.
“Well,” he said, “this helped pass the
time. Write fiction stories, you know,
Here, «you might like this one.”
On November 7, the police requested
his release to them and arrested him for
the murder of Mrs. Ellen Symes.
Now on the second day of the trial,
January 21, 1943, the rustling of papers
sounded in the court room. The clerk
adjusted his glasses and read in a mono-
tone:
“Copy of document written by Regi-
nald Sidney Buckfield. ‘The Mystery of
Brompton Road, by Gunner Buck-
field.’ ” . :
’ Hello, Smiler.”
“What a night!”
“Not so bad,” Bert replied).
“How’s your wife, Bert?” —
, ‘
"amined later, and”
~~
“I think she’s up at her mother’s with
the baby. Her mother and father always
see her to the bottom of the hill, and the
rest of the way she comes home alone.”
The story then carries Smiler from a
pub to Dallywood Lane, at least half a
mile from Brompton Road at 9:30 p. m,
Meantime, a mysterious stranger fol-
lows the woman and her child down
Brompton Road, where she is knifed
shortly after léaving her mother and
father, Three suspects are located in
Brompton Road during the crucial hour.
Despite this, Smiler is accused, To clear
himself, he turns detective and proves
his alibi. Unfortunately he fails to catch
the murderer. ;
Ending in .the same expressionless
‘voice, the clerk resumed his seat. L. A.
Byrne rose for the prosecution. Still
grinning, Buckfield took the stand.
_ “You are the author of ‘The Mystery
of Brompton Road’ which has just been
read?” . \ : Re
Buckfield nodded proudly. “Just Aic-
tion, Like Edgar Wallace.”
“I suggest you had an advantage the
estimable Mr, Wallace never had in his
‘detective tales. I quote from your own
story. Smiler, the hero, speaks: ‘,.. four
men were,in the radius of the crime be-
tween 9 and 10 p.'m., yet not one of
them heard or knew there was murder
on the night,of October 9, 1942.’ Now,
Buckfield, you are known as Smiler,
aren’t you?” |
“Right, I like to. put myself in my
. stories,” ;
_ The prosecutor continued relentlessly.
“The police have testified that they did
not tell you a woman had been stabbed
to death on Brompton Road, October 9,
Nor during the four days of your first
detention, October 10.to October 13, did
they allow you a newspaper. Yet on
October 10, you began a story accurately
describing the victim and her murder,”
His smile gone Buckfield cried, “Co-
incidence, that’s what it was.”
“No, Buckfield.“As Smiler, the hero,
‘you gave yourself an alibi for the story
crime. But as Buckfield, the author, you
gaya ‘the, exact details of Mrs. Ellen
ymes’ murder at a time you supposedly
knew nothing about it. You are not only
the author of ‘The Mystery of Bromp-
ton Road.’ You are the author. of the
crime itself and you were tripped by.’
your own tale.” > .
The jury agreed. It convicted sy,
nald Sidney Buckfield on- January’
1943, He’ was’ sentenced to hang, .Ex-
' question
: id “adjudged insane, he ~
'-! was sent to the asylum at Broadmoor. |-
SO Cates Alan Henry! |e og
This put a new light on the case weak-. °
ening the murder-suicide theory and
raising the possibility of robbery as the
motive for the killing of Mrs. Farns-
worth and the shooting of Farnsworth.
Some even suggested that perhaps a man
who had’ known Farnsworth in prison
had discovered where he was living ‘and
had come to the ‘farm with the idea of
blackmailing him. The blackmail idea
seemed remote, however, because Farns-
worth had nothing to conceal either from
his wife or others. Everyone in the com-
munity knew about his past.
On the other hand, there wag the pos-
sibility that Farnsworth had left his car
at a garage for repairs. So Sheriff Carlson
assigned two deputies to check every
garage and repair shop in the vicinity.
On top of these discoveries, the labora-
tory report on the scrapings taken from
underneath Mrs. Farnsworth’s finger-
nails, showed minute particles of human
skin, A comparison with samples of skin
taken from Farnsworth, proved ‘they
were not from his body, In addition, there
were no marks or scratches on the face
or hands of the dead man. This seemed to
rule out definitely that Farnsworth had
ite with his wife and then shot him-
self.
Miller, meanwhile, said he would go to
the creamery, a few miles away and learn
when Farnsworth had last delivered milk
there, He also ordered a search of nearby
erere for the platform used on the
car, believing that if the car had been
stolen, the thief would have gotten rid of
the identifying platform as quickly as
possible. The snowstorm that had raged
for three days since the double slaying
had blotted out all tracks left by the mur-
derer, who had disappeared like a phan-
ton, ;
_ Thus the investigators were divided
into three groups, Miller going to the
creamery,. the State Police hunting for
the missing car and milk platform and
Sheriff Carlson and two of his deputies
starting another search of the Farns-
worth house and further questioning: of
Ira Bennett, Whitmore and relatives o
the murdered woman.
Nothing new was found in the home.
Personal papers and letters were ex-
amined again but brought out no clues.
Relatives and friends of Bernice Farns-
worth told the sheriff she had appeared
to be perfectly happy with Farnsworth
- and as far as they knew there had been
no trouble of any kind between them.
HEIR bank accounts in Salamanca
were examined and it was found the
checking and saving accounts were
jointly held between man and wife and
no withdrawals had been made except -
some checks to pay current bills. In fact,
neither of the Farnsworths had been seen
in Salamanca for almost a month.
Bennett and Whitmore told’ Carlson
that as far as they knew the Farnsworths
had not employed any help on the farm
since the previous fall. They did have a
hired man to assist in the harvest but he’
was there only about a month, leaving in
September. ;
At the creamery, Miller learned only
that Farnsworth came with his milk regu-
larly early each day. “In response to a
es Miller, who wondered if a
“under Lieutenant’
George,
along the
farm, we:
ing throi
shoulder,
platform
descriptic
on the b:
But the
found, It
in the ru:
Little V:
Back :
Valley, t
notes. E
the car,
there sti
case was
But S
not yet:
who sug
the pris
confined
with wh
or some:
grudge, |
and a ha
parole,
Soat
at Dann
.andaco
answer.
for mor:
worth, «
there kn
out som
proved |
Back
question
results
About tc
he had
the big \
their mi]
“You
shot hin
’ Miller
“Whe:
ber seei:
HE
plied
have bec
“Was
Again
me ther
¥ “Thin
be you
think m
worth vy
thing at
what he
in his a)
“Well
How ‘this hap-
: I was unable’ to
| then and fled, I
ht. It was ‘too
it stand the sight we
leg sticking out
i: door. Isn’t that
shen.
sector went on
called heat rigor.
’'t know that, so
nortis. You killed
:ment, strangling
ou succeeded in
r car and driving
went to the wild-
‘mpus region and
placed her body
or, soaked her in
gency container,
oman’s right leg,
ng. Heat rigor
ot affect this leg
t the side of the
Tose and said
ith the murder of
a decision,” the
lly. “I wanted to
but she always
ver commit her-
jealousy when I
kill her.”
d of first degree
939, he faced the
diers. There was
oar of guns, and
as his bullet-rid-
e ground of the
y Rugama. She
. however. She
to New York in
ly took over the
rnishings of the
1 street.
here last night?”
lied. “He came
was here until a
ught for a.mo-
funny, now. that
“Someone must
e. Around mid-
at the door anda
name. Rugama
o answer and I
lly at Quaine.
ry much as if we’
that Rugama is
Juaine said. “It
ntended victim.”
us any closer to
iith repliéd. He
oman. . “Do you
te and Alice?”
odded. “I know
it,” she replied.
Lucas. Alice is
his common-law
net him in some
she did not ane
She
a
how Pete Lucas earned a living but that
she suspected that Alice Lewis supplied
most of the money. The woman then told
the policemen that Pete spent much time
in the company of a man called “Big
Argentine.” This “Big Argentine” had a
girl friend named Mary Santos who used
to live on East 113th street.
Apparently there was little more to be
learned here and Smith and Quaine re-
turned to headquarters. There they found
a report from the White Plains police,
who had been requested to check on the
story of Rugama concerning the past lives
of himself and his slain partner. Here,
perhaps, might be the key to the mystery
murder.
However, the report was disappointing.
For to the last minute detail, the state-
ment given the detectives by Rugama
checked out true. He and Romagueras
had been staunch friends. They had been
hard workers, they had attended to their
own business and neither had ever been in
any sort of trouble.
Smith and Quaine talked to Rugama
again, seeking further information about
the strange and unidentified midnight
caller who attempted to talk to him at the
woman’s apartment.
The officers obtained an astounding
statement! Rugama flatly denied that
there had been any knock on the door or
any caller at the woman’s apartment
other than himself!
“T'm afraid the woman has got some-
thing mixed up,” he said. “Nothing like
that happened at all.”
Did Maria Louisa make an honest mis-
take, the officers wondered, or was she
deliberately trying to involve her boy
friend in trouble? Was Rugama merely
lying in an effort to withhold informa-
tion from the investigators?
Again the man denied any knowledge
of an enemy or of any possible motive
for the murder.
The investigation was at a complete
stalemate and the weary officers decided
to return to the scene of the killing -for
a more thorough examination and an ef-
fort to trace the missing roomers, Pete
and Alice, who had fled the night of the
shooting. On their way out of the station
Smith and Quaine stopped at the ser-
geant’s desk to see if there were any fur-
ther developments in the pursuit of the
bandit murderers of Patrolman Goodwin.
There were none. In that case, too, the
police had run up against a blank wall.
The autopsy produced the bullet from
the head of the slain policeman and it
was found to be .38 caliber.
“That’s about all I can tell about it,”
Sergt. Harry F. Butts, ballistic expert,
had said. “In this case, even if I had the
gun used in the killing I wouldn’t be able
to swear that this bullet was fired from it.
It was a head wound and the lead slug
was so misshapen by contact with the
tough bones of the skull that the ballistic
markings are irrevocably blurred.”
That announcement had been a severe
blow to the investigators. District At-
torney Thomas C. T. Crain had conferred
with Capt. Lagarenne and Detective
Horcy but the conference produced little
hope. Holdup murders were admittedly
the most difficult to solve. Now with the
fatal bullet ruined for identification pur-
poses there was slight chance that the
murder weapon could be traced or owner-
ship proved.
There had been another set-back for
no response had been received from the
taxicab companies to the police appeal.
No driver had been found who admitted
picking up three men near 169th street
and Amsterdam avenue the night of Feb.
15.
“One thing I did learn,” said Detective
Horey, reporting on this effort, “is that
the cab probably was an El-Fay. Most
of them are cream colored and they have
the flashy accessories which were de-
scribed. They have been sold mostly to
private owner-operators. Because of all
the glitter and chromium that’s on them
they have been particularly popular in
the foreign neighborhoods and in Har-
lem.”
It appeared likely that the bandits had
either stolen or rented the cab in‘another
section of town and had driven in it to
the scene of the robbery. Horey then
decided to check Manhattan’s several
foreign quarters in the hope that he might
obtain some clue to the identity of the
cab and driver used as the getaway car.
It was more than a long chance but it
seemed the only thing to be done.
Throughout the city all policemen were
keeping a sharp watch for known hood-
lums and suspicious persons. While the
duty of finding the cop killers actually
was in the hands of Capt. Lagarenne and
Horey, every officer maintained a particu-
lar interest in the case and hoped to be
of help in solving the mystery.
That was the situation when Detectives
Smith and Quaine headed for the Roma-
gueras apartment the afternoon following
the shooting. The officers began a minute
search of the place, looking particularly
for anything which might serve as a clue
to the real identity of the mysterious Pete
Lucas and his girl friend. The officers
were about to give up the hunt as useless
for apparently Lucas had cleaned out
thoroughly before he disappeared. Then
just as they were leaving, Smith noticed
that a board in the floor near and under
the radiator seemed loose.
Quickly the officers pried the board up
and found a cleverly arranged compart-
ment containing six .38 caliber pistol car-
tridges of a common manufacture!
The detectives exchanged glances with-
out speaking. Hortal Romagueras had
been shot to death with a .38 caliber gun!
This, then, seemed to link the missing
man definitely with the fatal shooting.
There was, of course, nothing definite for
Lucas might not have known about the
secret compartment and might have no
connection with the bullets. But the fact
of his strange disappearance combined
with the discovery made the detectives
more than anxious to talk to him.
Had there been a quarrel over a girl?
Did Pete Lucas’ pal “Big Argentine”
iron ELECERICITY
I2 WEEKS TRAINING 44{ >
ACTUAL WORK ON
ACTUAL
MACHINERY /,
Pay Tuition After
Graduation:
Tired of low-pay jobs? Want to
get into a job with afuture? Send
today for my bi free illustrated
book. Tells all about famous
Coyne “Learn-By-Doing”’ train-
ing.Wetrain you in 12short weeks
on real electrical machinery. No
previous experience or advanced
education required. Pay for train-
ing after graduation. Many “earn
while learning’’ in a part time job.
EXTRA: 4-weeks Radio Course now
included. Free book gives all details.
Mail the coupon today.
COYNE ELECTRICAL SCHOOL
500 S. Paulina St. Dept. CO-32, Chicago, LA
a co ee a ow
1 H. C. LEWIS, President
COYNE ELECTRICAL SCHOOL
8 S00 S. Paulina St., Dept. CO-31, Chicagoy i. NA
bi Book, **Earn je Learning’’ plan,
; yon ipa otter i trguation plan’’ and details aboot extra
4 weeks Radio Course.
i NAME *
© ApDRE
wiGend YoU
THIS FINE SUIT—
WillYouWear It and Show! tto Friends?
Ineeda reliable man in your town to weara fine maae-
to-measure, all-wool DEMONSTRATING SU]T-adver~
tise my famous Union clothing—and take orders. You
can make up to $12.00 in a day. My line contains over
150 quality iT all i values,¢ d
bead IN ON PARTIAL PAYMENT PLAN
need .
You posh AsesA Witns woe tosey for FREE details.
STONEFIELD, 1300 W. Harrison, Dept. 185, Chicago
NEW
STURN SIGNAL
FLASHES from REAR WINDOW—DASH Control
A whirlwind seller, Drivers buy on flash
AGENTS demonstration, Dealers buy 3 to 12. Your
profit mark-up as high as 264%. Biggest
sensation of year. Rush name quick for facts and Demon-
strator sample plan, All Free! Rush, WATCH-MY-TURN
SIGNAL CO., Dept. W-288, Walnut Bldg., Des Moines, la.
Learn Profitable Profession
in QO days at Home
Earningsof Men and Womeninthe fascinatin
fession of Swedish Massage run as high as $i0 to
70 per week but many prefer to opentheir own of-
ices, Large incomes from Doctors, hospitals, sani-
tariums and private patients come to those who
qualify through our training. Redocing
alone offers rich rewards for specialists.
rite for Anatomy Charts, and booklet
- ae a FREE.
ii HE College of Swedish Massage
) 30 Es Adame St., Devt. C30, Chicage
to Nati 1 College of M )
TRY" B
rHe STAR WAY 70 suave
WORLDS LARGEST SELLING
SINGLE EDGE BLADE
m., with two other
zument.
ered held as a ma-
etectives believed
‘olution than since
hat the arrest of
riddle.
and Quaine con-
he woman’s state-
em with astonish-
er mind,” Rugama
se at eight o’clock
ment of any sort.
the house I found
istence convinced
Pete Lucas could
the contradictory
After all, Maria
verified Rugama’s
her from 11 p. m,
as had been killed
d midnight. Had
both Romagueras
Rugama_ seeking
| to the police?
ve to provide the
ons it was evident
igner, probably of
o one seemed to
Smith and Quaine
2 dives and hood-
em.
dives shut up like
ves appeared. It
or them to realize
our language is
“We need help.”
municated with
ta few days after
Ramos had been
1 mystery. Capt.
the alien squad
10s before him.
ase in along with
‘e Goodwin mur-
said. “You have
the other foreign
well look through
cab and for this
vent immediately
iad offices for a
nith and Quaine.
ise. As he spoke,
on and Ramos
d the alien squad
when the details
tigation had been
inson exclaimed.
find that we are
1en. I'd be willing
1en are involved
-e shot the same
vart. The same
Three Spaniards
rtment and three
ed the Krasnow
dwin. The ban-
bly because they
ts would betray
There was still
for the Roma-
e for Rugama’s
-ucas would have
s. Johnson and
lice Lewis in the
2 might remem-
itify the missing
the questions to
tted having any
name except Lucas,” she said. “But once
in Newark I heard a man call him Tony.
Then in New York he got mad when a
Spanish cab driver called him Lopez.”
“Cab driver!” Johnson said. “What do
you know about the Spanish cab driver?”
“T hadn’t thought of him,” she said,
“until you asked me about Lucas’s name.
The cab driver works at night and hangs
out on Lenox avenue. It’s a cream-colored
car and has silver ornaments.” ..
The trail was getting hotter by the
minute. Detectives Ramos and John-
son rushed to Newark when New York
police files showed no record of any
Antonio Lopez. The Newark headquar-
ters knew nothing about a man of this
name either, but the chief thought for a
moment and reached for the files.
“Here is the card on an Albert Lopes,”
he said. “I wonder if it is the same man.
He has been arrested four times in
Newark for armed holdups and has served
three New Jersey penitentiary sentences.’
Johnson and Ramos obtained a photo-
graph of Lopes and hurried to the
Krasnow drugstore.
“That’s the man!” the druggist shouted
instantly. “That is the man who was in
the lead with the gun. He’s the man who
shot Patrolman Goodwin!”
The detectives thereupon checked fur-
ther and learned that Albert Lopes’s real
name actually was Antonio Lopez.
N THE early morning of March 31,
Johnson and Ramos went back to East
Harlem, Ramos dressed for the occasion,
flashily ‘and in the manner of a small-time
gangster. Joined by Detectives Quaine
and Smith, the officers proceeded to a bar
near 113th street and Lenox avenue and
there Johnson left them.
The lone detective walked about quiet-
ly, surveying all four corners of the
brightly lighted and busy night-life inter-
section. There were cabs galore, all colors
and makes and models, but more than an
hour passed before Johnson spotted the
vehicle he had in mind. It was at the
southeast corner, parked before a restau-
rant. It was an El-Fay, cream-colored,
and with disc wheels. Spares were
mounted on the running boards and they
had protective chromium covers.
Johnson walked by the taxi rapidly,
noting that the driver was definitely of
Latin extraction. Then he returned to
the bar where he had left his associates
and the group conferred briefly. After-
wards they walked back up the street,
Johnson in the lead and Ramos a few
paces behind, Quaine and Smith crossing
to the opposite corner.
When he passed the cream-colored cab
for the second time, Johnson lit a cigaret
and then continued walking around the
block and back to where Quaine and
Smith were waiting.
In five minutes Ramos joined them.
The detective was jubilant. “It work€d,”
he whispered. “It’s the right cab and
cab driver and he fell for me. His name
is Amerigo Puig. He owns his own cab.”
“Lopez?”
“Puig saw him yesterday. He said he
was living on West 116th street and he
told Puig not to tell anybody but right
guys. I told Puig I’d done time with
Lopez down in Jersey and I had a job I
wanted Tony.to team up with me on.”
Detectives Quaine and Smith rushed
over immediately, taking the cab driver
in custody and holding him as a material
witness.
Lopez’s address was a rooming house.
Ramos and Johnson found him in bed.
Handcuffs were quickly snapped on his
wrists and the Spanish gunman awoke to
find himself helpless and under arrest for
murder.
“For killing who?” Lopez grumbled,
rubbing at his eyes.”
“Patrolman James R. Goodwin,” De-
tective Johnson said “and probably Jose
Hortal Romagueras as well.”
Back at the East 104th street station
‘vith the taxi driver, Puig, talked volu-
y.
“Yes,” he admitted, “I made the trip up
to 169th street and Amsterdam but it
wasn’t until a moment ago I knew any-
body was killed. I didn’t see any broad-
cast issued by the police to cab fleets.
“I didn’t hear any shots that night.
I was parked a block away. I didn’t know
what the three were up to when they
started out. I didn’t share in any proceeds
All I got was my cab fare. But I took
the three of them up to the drugstore—
Lopez and Big Argentine Ageitos and
Miguel Rugama.”
Faced by the cab driver, the astounded
Rugama promptly wilted. “It wasn’t my
fault,” he wailed. “Hortal and I came
to New York. It was our first time in
the big city. We were stupid. We thought
we could make money in the rooming
house business. Lopez moved in.
“I saw the guns. Lopez knew I’d seen
them. He was afraid I’d tell the police
and so he wanted to implicate me. He
wanted me to go on a job and he threat-
ened me. I was weak. That was the
argument when Lopez and Ageitos
threatened and persuaded me. Hortal
knew I had gone and that knowledge cost
him his life.”
“Who fired the shot that killed Good-
win?” Johnson queried.
“Lopez,” Rugama went on, weeping.
“He was in the lead. Ageitos robbed the
cash register. Lopez told us not to say
a word because our Spanish accents would
give us away. After the holdup I got
out of the cab and walked to Maria
Luisa’s house. It was Lopez and Ageitos
who came there hunting for me to kill
me just as they’d already killed my friend,
Hortal.
“We knew too much. Why they didn’t
kill me in the taxi, I don’t know, unless it
was that the driver would be a witness.”
Lopez’s picture already identified, he
was now identified in person by the three
drugstore witnesses. So was Rugama
and also a picture of Ageitos which Mary
Santos was able to produce.
The Spanish authorities were cabled.
Ageitos was arrested in Corrubedo but
extradition was refused, the Spanish gov-
ernment replying that it preferred to
punish its own nationals.
Puig, Alice Lewis and Mary Santos
testified for the state. After six months’
imprisonment they were allowed their
freedom. In December, 1932, Lopez and
Rugama went on trial in the court of
*General Sessions, both charged with first
degree murder in the killing of Patrol-
man Goodwin. In the Tombs, awaiting
trial, Lopez confessed to Rugama that
he murdered Romagueras and it had been
his and Ageitos’ intention to also mur-
der him.
But it was unnecessary to try Lopez
on this second charge inasmuch as he was
convicted of the Goodwin killing and sen-
tenced to death. Rugama was likewise
convicted and received the same sentence.
The court of appeals affirmed both con-
victions and Lopez was electrocuted at
Sing Sing on May 25, 1933. Gov. Herbert
Lehman commuted Rugama’ s sentence to
life imprisonment.
Othe
WORLD'S LOWEST
TIRE PRICES &
Thousands of Amer-
ican customers can
vouch for the bec ae x
ard service given by
our $ Staner Brand 0
ice
bs and new meee x
p setecten ball, i enables ust ent to lowest price:
GUARANTEED
Fea crus CORD fist?
ize Tubes
$0. 95/33x4 6 $30 45 $1.45
33 im 384x434 3.45 1.45
14 }25h015 3.65 1.65
. 135]33x5 93.75 1.75
5:00. 2 1:45135x5 3.95 1.75
9025.00- 20 2. or reece ‘grea
wear ls 2 a ee ;
30x5.25-20 2: po at 353 ost ws
B1x5.25- é
5.50- . 28 6x8 11.45 4.95
28x5.50- 5 iy 0x8 13.25 4.95
29x5.50- fe
6.00- 4
80x6.00- 4
31x6.00- 4
32x6.00-' 4
B3x6.00- €
6.50-2(
6.00-
ithe ONLY $1. 00 Deroert on enn tire Sy sins
£58.00 on each Truck aie) We ship bale: nee C, O. D.
uct 5 per cent if cash {s sent in full with order. To
fill order prompt! we may substitute Na if neces-
sary. ALL T UB NEW —GUARANTEED—
PERRY-FIELD TIRE & RUBBER co.
2328-30 S. Michigan Av., De 6108, Chica 1.
Amazing! Thrilling! Romantic!
PH OTO RING) TO RING
eae seat onyx.
ike ring. Will
ast a lifetime!
one Onl % Rin
rt New Magnified etting!
e' nd eeactible! ‘Water-
f! SEND ONEY! Enclose strip of
aper for ring size. Pay postman plus a few
Ones hostage. If you send 48c we pay CExpertly Li
te tage. Canadians: Send Money Order! 10¢ extra)
hoto Movett Ring Co., Dept. V-4, 606 Vine St., Cincinnati, O.
qualify for one
FRANKLIN INSTITUTE, Dept. F220, Rochester, N. Ye
oxrea ney ve PATENT
read and profited by
crienacw et YOUR IDEA
ent Protection’®
and ‘‘Selling an Invention.’® Fully explain many
interesting points toinventors and illustrate important
mechanical principles. With books we also send free
‘‘Evidence of Invention’? form. Reasonable fees, de-
ferred payments, ie 4 years experience. Write to:
Victor J. Evans & Co., igs Hobs el Patent Attorneys.
543-3 Victor Building, ashington, D. C.
1 Baking Insti anew
home study course in commercial baking. Bak~-
ing now America’s fifth industry in wages.
Nearly a depression-proof business. Good field
for ambitious men. Common school education
sufficient. Send for free booklet ‘*‘Opportuni-
ties in Commercial Baking’ and requirements,
Baking
3601 Michigan Ave., Dept. 131C, Chicago, U.S.A.
With This New Low Priced
Pop Corn Machine!
This fully guaranteed Electric Corn Popper
does the work of a $300 Machine, yet re-
tails for only $39.50. You make up to $13
profit per sale. Sells fast to drug stores,
restaurants, taverns, schools, etc, Write
today for liberal sample offer and no-risk
starting plan. NO EXPERIENCE
NECESSARY. Write: EXCEL MANU-
® FACTURING CORP., Dept. F-840,
Muncie, Indiana,
three suspects gave us.
on your pad, I believe.” :
But Detective Andreades jdid not have
to look at his pad. “Philip
said slowly, “lives in the rear of the build-
ing adjoining this ohé.”
You have them
“Exactly,” Inspector Cofinas’ said easi- |
ly: “Now we have one more thing to con-
sider. In the victim’s handkerchief we
found a cyanide crystal.” e. raised his
eyebrows slightly.
nection, John?” .
Detective Andreades was not slow to
understand. “Cyanide crystals,” he said
with a’note of admiration for his chief,
“are used in developing photographs.
Philip Kamanis has a camera. ‘So... .”.
“So we'd better call on our friend
Kamanis and find out if he has a dark
room also,” Inspector Cofinas finished.
“Doxiades and Petrarcas bre quite in-
nocent, John, but it would have taken a
long time to establish that fact by ques-
tioning people. Microscopes and. ‘test
tubes are usually quicker; and always)
more truthful.” : 44
Within five minutes the detectives were
making their call at the suspect's apart-
ment in the adjoining building. . es
“Mr. Kamanis,” Inspector Cofinas said
upon being admitted into the lavishly .
‘furnished apartment, “Let me see your
dark room.”
There was relief in Kanianis’ voice as
he said, “Why gladly, Inspector. This
-way, please.” He’led the detective into a
small chamber recently equipped for the
needs of the amateur photographer. ‘
Switching on a suspended light bulb,
Cofinas’ keen gaze surveyed a shelf, A
small round tin can with the warning:
amanis,” he ..
“Do: you make a con=-
“poison” on its label attracted his atten-
tion.» He reached for it and opened it, - It
contained cyanide crystals.
‘What do you use this for?” he asked.
“To make) dense negatives. lighter,
Everybody uses it,” Kamanis explained’
easily... .“I became interested in -photog-
raphy only recently.” 7.)
“You did not have’ dinner at the
D’Angleterre last night,” Cofinas said,
‘taking-a chance, His gaze held that of
the suspect, pid
‘“Well—perhaps I didn’t,” Kamanis said
as if trying to;remember. Suddenly he
den the car caught fire. How: this hap-
pened I don’t know, but I was unable'to
help her. I lost my head then and fled. I
couldn't bear the sight. It was ‘too’
_ horrible,”
“You mean you couldn’t stand the sight ’’
of your victim’s right leg sticking out
ian y through the open door. Isn’t that
itp’:
Kamahis’ face went ashen.
“You: see,” the inspector went on
quietly, “there isa thing called heat rigor.
You, of course, -wouldn’t know that, so
you mistook it for rigor mortis. You killed
snapped , his fingers. “You're tight,e Your friend in her apartment, strangling
' Inspector! I’ve been a bit confused but
now it all comes back. I just took a look
inside: the cafe, (Yes, that’s it, I just
StODDEG DyiT Mn mip ae Binet ccs'yae
. “Kamanis,” the inspector said evenly,, :
‘if you would take the trouble to consult
a map-you would find i pce is not
far/from the spot where Miss Poulos was
found dead, Now can there be anything
else you forgot to tell us?”
There was a pause. Kamanis slowly
rubbed out. his. cigaret, hide '
“Inspector,” he said at last, “T may as
well admit that I was there when it. hap-,
pened. Miss Poulosand I had dinner to-
gether.at her’apartment,’ Regarding the |
business trip, I’ve told you the truth. I
had to go to Kozani and she offered to
take me there in her car. She always loved
impromptu trips, Near Servia we had en-
gine trouble. I opened the hood and tried
to flood the chamber, When I saw that
I couldn’t do anything I told Miss Poulos.
I would go back to the main highway and.
stop the next car to pass by. I had walked
only a short distance when all of a’ sud-
ut
ah VEL
-her with your hands. You succeeded in.
placing her corpse in her car and driving
off unnoticed. Then you went to the wild-
¢rness of the Mount Olympus region and
left the main road. You placed her body
‘face downward on the floor; soaked her in
/ gasoline from an emergency container,
and fired the car.. The woman’s right leg,
however, was protruding. Heat rigor
which bends limbs did not affect this leg
‘because it rested against the side of the
seat.” The inspector rose and said
gravely, “I charge you with the murder of
Anastasia Poulos,” ‘
- “T: wanted) to~force a decision,” ‘the
killer‘confessed wretchedly. “I wanted to
marry; her. I loved her but she always
teased me and would never commit her-
“self: I was insane with jealousy when I
did-it, I never meant to. kill her.”
Kamanis. was convicted of first degree
- murder and in August, 1939, he faced the
customary platoon of soldiers. There was
a sharp command, the roar of guns, and
Philip Kamanis swayed as his bullet-rid-
dled body sagged to the ground of the
alonika prison yard. ,
‘Bandit $1
3
RN Continued trom page 37)
ayers and the Sleeping Corpse:
f
cab had returned, explaining that he had |
cream colored, had’ dis¢’ wheels ‘and’.
chromium-encased spare tires on the:
Rugama talked one and without —
Vv
ed at the fact,
that he was alive and safe in the police
station. my re
He was a Spaniard, Rugama said, and) .
had been in the .United -States- for 12. . Rugama.
He came from Spain in 1920 and © “business”:
years. ¢
settled with his father in Massachusetts.:
~, landscape gardening firm...
a short ti
ae
immediately obtained another. job with a
Ve
Ont
maguer,
in: N
hey o
and becam:
was appar-
expected a.
ess. and that they
Ssignation house.” ~
Iventu:
‘I recall it,” she said.
‘turned’ back’ to’ the woman,
know a couple called Pete and Alice?”
“Pete ‘calls himself Pete Lucas.
Alice Lewis and she is his common-law
«wife, I-think Rugama met him in some
pool hall,”
Maria Luisa said that she did not know. .*,
tion of the story told by Rugama. She
had little more to add, however. She
_ said the two men came to New York in
pga ‘and subsequently took over the
ease and bought the furnishings of the
, apartment on East 113th street.
“You say Rugama was here last night ?”
Smith asked,
- “Yes,” the woman replied. “He came
about eleven o’clock and was here until a
few minutes after one.” é
She frowned and thought for a.mo-
Ment before continuing,
. “There was something funny, now.that ..
“Someone must
have known he was here. Around mid-
night'there was a knock at the door and a
man’s voice called “his name. Rugama
whispered to me not to answer and I
didn’t.” —.
Smith looked quizzically at Quaine.
“It begins to sound very much as if we-
uch money: to. be»? “were right in figuring that Rugama_’ is
afraid of something,” Quaine said. “It
looks as if he was the intended victim.” +
; Peat peu copsn't put’ us any closer to
learning who did it,” Smith repliéd. He.
. “Do you
The dark-haired girl nodded. “I know
them’ but only. by sight,” she replied,
Alice is
is
how Pete Luca
she suspected
most of the mo
the policemen |
in the compa:
Argentine.” 1
girl friend nam
to live on East
Apparently 1
learned here <
turned to head
a report from
who had been
story of Rugan
of himself an«
perhaps, might
murder.
However, th:
For to the las
ment given tl
checked out t)
had been staun
hard workers,
own business a
any sort of trc
Smith and (
again, seeking
the strange a
caller who atte
woman's apart
The officers
statement! k
there had bee:
any caller at
other than hin
“I'm afraid
thing mixed u
that happened
Did Maria I
take, the offic
deliberately ti
friend in troul
lying in an et
tion from the
Again the n
of an enemy
for the murde
The investi;
stalemate and
to return to t
a more thorot
fort to trace
and Alice, wh
shooting. On
Smith and Q
geant’s desk t
ther developn
bandit murde:
There were n
police had rm:
The autops
the head of
was found to
“That's abc
Sergt. Harry
had said. “In
gun used in t]
to swear that
It was a heac
was so missh
tough bones o
markings are
That annou:
blow to the i
torney Thoma
with Capt.
Horey but the
hope. Holduy
the most diffic
fatal bullet ru
poses there y
murder weapo
ship proved.
There had
no response |}
taxicab comp
No driver hac
figure in the affair in some way? The
aetectives recalled that they had been
given the name and last known address
f “Big Argentine’s” girl, Mary Santos.
There was a bare chance that they could
find the man, so they decided to lose no
time in seeking out Mary Santos.
The case was growing more mysterious
as time passed and more and more the
detectives felt that more than one person
was involved in the crime. They went
directly to the house where Mary Santos
had lived.
“She’s gone,” the janitor of the build-
ing told them. “She left here about seven
o'clock Monday night. I don’t know
where she went and she left no forward-
ing address.” .
The janitor then told them that he
knew this “Big Argentine” by that name
only and that he had disappeared about
the same time the girl left the house.
“What is this business?” Smith asked
Quaine as they headed back for the sta-
tion. “Everybody known to have been
associated with Romagueras in any way
has disappeared, with the exception of his
pal Rugama. What’s behind this affair?”
Quaine had no answer. The more the
officers probed the more mystery they
uncovered but there was not a single hint
as yet to the key of the strange murder
plot seemingly involving the lives of four
or five persons,
The officers agreed on one point. The
women would be easier to find than the
men and until they were located there
would be no break in the case. Finding
the women would be tough enough. The
postal authorities would help but princi-
pally it would be a matter of pavement
pounding, of thorough canvassing of
cheap rooming houses.
Smith and Quaine set to work, day after
day. Over in other parts of the city: De-
tective Horey was doing much the same
sort of work seeking trace of the taxicab
used by the bandit killers of Patrolman
Goodwin. Weeks passed with little signs
of success attending the efforts of the
three officers working on the two murder
mysteries.
Finally Detective Horey reported again
to Capt. Lagarenne.
“T'm not doing as well as another man
might,” the detective said. “I am too
American in appearance and the only
language I speak is English. Iam having
difficulty in getting some of the foreign-
born cab drivers to talk to me.’
As a result of this conference La-
garenne called headquarters and obtained
prompt cooperation. Detectives Arthur
C. Johnson and Aristides Ramos of the
radical and alien squad were -assigned
to the Goodwin case. Johnson had spent
the major part of his 22 years on the force
working among foreigners. Ramos was a
linguist of untsual ability. They took.up
the task of trying to find the driver of
the ElxFay cab used in the murder.
Only a few days before the assignment
of Johnson and Ramos to the Goodwin
case, Detectives Smith and Quaine got
their first major break in the Roma-
gueras mystery. They had picked up and
lost the trail of Mary Santos often. Then
they finally found her only a few doors
away from the place where she had lived
originally.
A voluptuous brunette, Mary Santos
expressed amazement at the search for
her and obviously was startled to hear
that Romagueras had been murdered.
When she realized the seriousness of the
detectives’ statement, she talked freely.
“T did not know Romagueras very
68
well,” she said. “I only saw him once.”
“What do you know about Alice
Lewis?”
“She was Pete Lucas’s friend,” the
woman replied. “I haven’t seen her or
Pete since the night I moved from the old
place. Pete and Argentine were partners
but I don’t know what their business was.
They never discussed business with me.”
“Ts Alice an American girl?”
“Ves,”
“Where did she come from? Where
do her people live?”
“In Newark, New Jersey.”
“What is Big Argentine’s real name and
where is he?’
“His name is Andres Garcia Ageitos”
He left here day before yesterday for his
old home in Spain.”
Smith could not suppress an exclama-
tion. The mysterious ‘ ‘Big Argentine”
Ree! That was a major disappointment.
f course if he were on a boat bound for
Spain they could have him arrested on
arrival but there was slight chance that
the Spanish authorities would return him
merely for questioning.
Mary Santos knew no more about the
affair and the officers left to check her
story with the consular authorities and
the shipping lines. Her statement proved
to be true. Garcia Ageitos had sailed for
Malaga on March 18.
“And to think we missed him by just
two days,” Smith said bitterly.
However, there was no time to waste in
mourning about this. The officers hur-
ried to Newark where they learned the
police knew Alice Lewis and had the ad-
dress of her family. They had never heard
of a Pete Lucas.
Accompanied by Newark detectives,
Smith and Quaine went to the Lewis
home and found the girl unaware that she
had been the object of an intense, month-
long search. She was only 20 years old,
blond and pretty. She agreed to the re-
quest of the New York officers and ac-
companied them to the East 104th street
station to tell what she knew of the men
involved in the baffling crime.
HE had not seen Pete Lucas since the
night of Feb. 15, she said. She did
know that he and“Big Argentine” were in
some sort of racket and that both of them
had pistols which they kept hidden in the
room on 113th street under the loose
floorboard. The woman readily recalled
the events of the night of Feb. 15.
“Until ten o'clock,” she said, “we were
all in the apartment. Big Argentine and
Pete were having some kind of an argu-
ment with Miguel Rugama. I don’t know
what it was about but it must have been
patched up because the three of them left
the house together and after that I went
out alone, leaving Hortal Romagueras
asleep on the couch,
“A few minutes before midnight I met
Pete on the street and he told me I had
better go to the room and get my stuff
and go home to Newark as a man had
been killed. He didn’t say what man and
I didn’t know until we went up to the
flat and there was Romagueras dead.
“After that we picked up our stuff and
hurried out. We met Big Argentine and
Pete sent me on to Newark alone. I have
been home since then and have not seen
or heard from any of them.”
This was an astounding development.
Miguel Rugama, still detained as a ma-
terial witness, had insisted that he had
left the house alone at 8 p. m., to go to
the wrestling matches. Now Alice Lewis
said he had left at 10 p. m., with two other
men after a violent argument.
Alice Lewis was ordered held as a ma-
terial witness. The detectives believed
they were closer to a solution than since
the case broke and-that the arrest of
Lucas would solve the riddle.
Immediately Smith and Quaine con-
fronted Rugama with the woman’s state-
ment. He looked at them with astonish-
ment.
“She must be out of her mind,” Rugama
insisted. “I left the house at eight o’clock
and there was no argument of any sort.
When I came back to the house I found
Hortal dead.”
This unshakable insistence convinced
the officers that only Pete Lucas could
clear the confusion and the contradictory
issues in the mystery. After all, Maria
Luisa Rodriguez had verified Rugama’s
story that he was with her from 11 p. m.,
untill a.m. Romagueras had been killed
between 11:30 p. m., and midnight. Had
there been a plot to kill both Romagueras
and Rugama? Was Rugama seeking
sanctuary when he fled to the police?
Pete Lucas would have to provide the
answer. From descriptions it was evident
that he, too, was a foreigner, probably of
Spanish extraction. No one seemed to
know his real name but Smith and Quaine
began the rounds of the dives and hood-
lum haunts in East Harlem.
The habitues of these dives shut up like
clams when the detectives appeared. It
took only a short time for them to realize
what was wrong.
“Our appearance and our language is
against us,” Smith said. “We need help.”
The detectives communicated with
headquarters. It was just a few days after
Detectives Johnson and Ramos had been
assigned to the Goodwin mystery. Capt.
Michael McDermott of the alien squad
called Johnson and Ramos before him.
“You can work this case in along with
your investigation of the Goodwin mur-
der,” Capt. McDermott said. “You have
already covered most of the other foreign
quarters, You might as well look through
Harlem for the El-Fay cab and for this
Pete Lucas.”
Johnson and Ramos went immediately
to the 104th street squad offices for a
long conference with Smith and Quaine.
Quaine reviewed the case. As he spoke,
the interest of Johnson and Ramos
heightened noticeably and the alien squad
men were visibly excited when the details
of the Romagueras investigation had been
fully outlined.
“This is strange,” Johnson exclaimed.
“T have a hunch we may find that we are
all looking for the same mien. I'd be willing
to bet that the same men are involved
in both murders.
“Look. Both men were shot the same
night, about an hour apart. The same
caliber gun was used. Three Spaniards
left the Romagueras apartment and three
‘dark looking’ men robbed the Krasnow
drugstore and shot Goodwin. The ban-
dits did not speak probably because they
were afraid their accents would betray
them.” .
The officers agreed. There was still
no explanation apparent for the Roma-
gueras murder and none for Rugama’s
place in the affair. Pete Lucas would have
to furnish those answers. Johnson and
Ramos went to talk to Alice Lewis in the
hope that something she might remem-
ber would help them identify the missing
man. The girl answered the questions to
the best of her ability. .
“To me he never admitted having any
name excep
in Newark
Then in Ne
Spanish ca!
“Cab driv
you know a
“T hadn’t
“until you :
The cab dr
out on Len:
car and ha
The trai
minute. 1
son rushed
police file:
Antonio L
ters knew
name eithe
moment al
“Here is
he said. “
He has t
Newark fo
three New
Johnson
graph of
Krasnow <
“That's t
instantly.
the lead w’
shot Patrc
The det«
ther and le
name actu
| THE
Johnsor
Harlem, R
flashily an
gangster.
and Smith
near 113tt
there Joh
The lon
ly, surve
brightly hi
section. T
and make
hour pass
vehicle h:
southeast
rant. It
and wit!
mounted
had prot:
Johnso
noting tl!
Latin ex
the bar \
and the
wards tl}
Johnson
paces be]
to the of
When
for the s
and then
block a:
Smith w
In five
The dete
he whis;
cab driv:
is Ameri
“Lope:
“Puig
was livi:
told Pui
guys. |
Lopez d
wanted
Detec
over im
in custo
witness.
Lopez
Ramos
v
| Lhe Polo Boy—
The Model—
and the Stickup Killing
A Gorgeous Girl, a Wealthy Man Dead
in the Car Beside Her—and Until .
July 11, 1941, Nobody Officially Could
-Explain the “Natural” Death by Gunshot
By Ray Doyle
Who Made a Special
Investigation of This Case
radio in mad Manhattan on one of those warm,
balmy Spring nights—May 4, 1941, to be precise
The call didn’t say anything about oiturder in
Te: emergency call came sputtering over policc
it, Nor did it mention the advertising exccutiye who
oe ti | ed rid lay slumped in the front seat of the car, or the
nbdgd ays sp be he gorgeous model who peered at him, frightened, her
reply ae > po gl Son pert face pale. He merely indieated, im code. that a
arevé mf igh hibhe mysterious death had occurred in a car parked in
gretietet Mankatiee front of No. 136 East 73rd Street.
Inspector Patrick Kenny, commander of all de-
tective forces on the East Side, and his aid, Lieu-
9
How could this man
have been killed by a
pistol shot that was
as silent as the
death it brought him?
idquarters, Inspector
an set his corps of
yrking on the modus
In this is tabulated
ording to manner of
h the city, officers
shly on the scant ma-
d at hand for experi-
that this was the type
either cracked quickly
to remain unsolved.
\onovan’s men found a
id all the earmarks of
case with the single
t it had not ended in a
n April 6th, Harold
liss Muriel Arnoff had
p and robbed by two
ants. One being short
xy tall. Their manner
coincided with that of
occasion, Detectives
‘onnell and Raymond
the West 68th Street
se had arrested a man
ent Morgano, but they
d him when the victims
jentify him. Because
a similarity in these
because Morgano had
en suspected, Captain
dered Morgano to be
for further questioning.
Detective William Jones of the 19th
Squad, who was on duty the night
of the murder, and who carried the
“squeal” which is the police termin-
ology for a new case, joined De-
tectives Murphy and Hennessy of
the Homicide Squad, and Detective
Joe Moran, of the 5th Squad..
It was like looking for a needle in
a haystack. There was absolutely
no trace of the man. The landlady
at his last address said that he had
moved away a week before without
leaving a forwarding address.
There was not a shred of evidence,
at this point, connecting Morgano
with the crime. There was no
photograph of him available at po-
lice headquarters so that Miss Cas-
sidy could not be called upon to
make any identification. Never-
theless the officers persisted in their
search.
HECKING with underworld
sources, they learned that Mor-
gano had lately been seen in the
company of an ex-convict named
Morris Mardavich. They secured his
address from the Parole Commis-
sion and by 7 o’clock in the morn-
ing were climbing the steps of the
tenement house at 626 East 6th
VINCENT MOR.-
GANO: After they
picked him up, the
police were very
anxious to locate his
pal, an ex-convict.
Street, on Manhattan's lower East
Side. Only old Nicholas Mardavich,
the suspect’s father, and two sisters_
were in the flat.
Without disclosing the purpose of
their visit, the detectives remained
in the apartment. A half hour later
Morris showed up. He was tall and
lean, his face heavily pit-marked
and scarred with acne pimples. The
tip of his nose was bulbous. He was
nattily attired in a tan suit and blue
shirt.
The police didn’t explain their in-
terest in him. Detective Murphy
merely said that he was wanted at
headquarters.
Mardavich shrugged his shoul-
ders. “I don’t know what it’s all
about,” he said. “All
I can say is that
you've got the wrong
guy whatever it is
because [ ain’t done
nothing.”
In the squad room
of the East 67th
Street Police Pre-
cinct, relays of detec-
tives took turns
questioning him.
Throughout the en- '
tire interrogation he
maintained his inno-
cence. Miss Cassidy
was brought in and
she looked him over.
She could not identify him.
In tracing his movements on the
murder night, he said that he had
escorted an employee of the Lenox
Hill Hospital back to her quarters
at 12:30 a. M. This put him in the
vicinity of the crime two and one-
half hours before it was committed.
That was the extent of the informa-
tion against him. There was no evi-
dence upon which he could be held,
and, were it not for the presence of
Captain Mullins, he would have been
turned out—a free man.,
Mullins took over the questioning
late Monday night. A past master
in the art of cross-examination, he
got to work on the prisoner. Let it
be said at this point that absolutely
no violence was
used. Yet, at the
end of half an
hour, Mardavich
made a full con-
fession!
I know the trick
used by the vet-
eran police official
to pry the truth
from the unwill-
ing lips of the
killer. But since
(Cont’d on 64)
MORRIS MARDA-
VICH: "All I can
say is that you've
got the wrong guy
+ . because I ain't
done nothing.”
eee eee oa
quickly—and the woman saw only the
one man run down the alley. The killer
could have left the others on some
pretext, slain Bouckaert, then rejoined
them before she began to scream.
They must have suspected one of their
group of murder, but they weren’t
sure. So the others kept still.”
“The three remaining boys are resi-
dents of the neighborhood,” agreed
Sanders, “but only one had studied
Bouckaert’s habits, and knew’ what
sort of cap George Kane wore.”
“Right. That person was Edward
McClain—the boy who tried for so
long to get a job with Bouckaert and
couldn’t. He admitted so himself the
night we talked to him. Bouckaert
had some good reason for not hiring
him, and when McClain kept insist-
ing, he probably told him to stop
bothering him. From then on, the
rage McClain felt must have built up
until it culminated in the murder.
Remember, Bouckaert had _ hired
nearly every boy in the neighborhood
at one time or another, but he would
not hire McClain.”
“Then our job is to get McClain,”
said Sanders.
Ba getting McClain was not as
simple as it would seem.
When the other young men had been
escorted to headquarters, McClain was
conspicuously absent.
“His parents said he’d been gone for
nearly a week, Sergeant,” announced
the squad car patrolman. “They
don’t know what’s become of him.”
“Order a city-wide search for him!”
demanded Sanders. ‘“‘Give his descrip-
tion to every officer on the force!”
While the search for McClain
started up, the detectives faced the
three remaining members of the four-
some: Mayfair, Patterson and
Schable. Briefly, they told the three
young men they suspected them of
having knowledge of the crime. Be-
fore the officers had talked five min-
utes, the young men were each try-
ing to out-talk each other in their
haste to tell the truth.
“We'd all been at a tavern on South
Ninth Street,” said Mayfair. ‘We
drank and danced with some girls
there, then McClain said we’d have
more fun with the girls if we had
EASIER FOREIGN TUMING/ (FactORV-T-YOU
wiZ SUPER BAD SPREAD CHassis SAVES ¥2 50%
A Q-BANDS {ou2%ducs
a "| $4502 TRADE-IN (c8:)
Ww Writs tor PRES Coteleg Showing L
red eicor
Redies,
Recorders... op to 16 Tobes
SPEAKER TUBES PUSH
BUTTON TUNING, MAGNA
y MIDWEST CHASSIS
4947 MODERWIZES YOUR RADIO | vewwa LOOP AERIAL
410 Wess RADIO CORPORATIO
CIMCIMMATI, OHIO ER-AGENTS WANTED
We make FALSE TEETH for you
by mail from your own impres-
sions. You have Satisfaction of MONEY-BACK GUARANTEE.
ustomers report satisfaction but you be your own judge.
WRITE TODAY for FREE
c
SEND NO MONE Booklet and Material,
CLEVELAND DENTAL SUPPLY COMPANY
Dept. 36-M1, East St. Louis, Ilinois
Suffer Varicose
LEG SORES?
{¥F you suffer pain and misery of Varicose Ulcers.
or Open Teg, Sores send away at once for FREE
Booklet “THE LIEPE METHODS FOR HOME USE.”
Tells all ree 40-year-old method, praised and en-
dorsed by thousands. Liepe Methods, Dept. H-46,
3284 N. Green Bay Ave., Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
_ 64
COMPLETE DETECTIVE CASES
more money to spend on them. We
asked him how we could get it, and
he said, ‘Never mind how. I know
somebody that’s had something com-
ing to him for a long time, and he’s
got plenty of dough. Come on.’
“It was almost closing time when
he told us to come on. Schable men-
tioned about losing his cap and we
tried to find it, but couldn’t. We
walked to Broadway and Lynch and
stood on the corner until we heard
people leaving the tavern down on
Broadway and Dorcas, then McClain
said, ‘I’ll be back in a minute. I want
to get a drink before the place closes.’
“We thought it was funny he didn’t
ask us along, and we started walkirg
along Broadway south toward Dorcas.
We were walking slowly and didn’t
see McClain after he crossed to the
east side of the street.”
Mayfair wiped at his forehead with
a handkerchief. “Some people came
out of the tavern on the corner as
we walked by, and just as we reached
Dorcas, a woman began screaming.
We ran across the street to the tavern
and looked around, then turned to-
ward the alley, to the north. Just at
that second I heard McClain’s voice.
He said, ‘Let’s go see what's go-
ing on.’
“We naturally thought he’d just
come out of the tavern, and we ran
to the alley. Well—you know what
happened after that.” Patterson and
Schable eagerly vouchsafed Mayfair’s
statement. ‘
it is contrary to the ends of justice to
reveal it, and since I have been re-
quested not to disclose. this phase of
the case, the exact nature of the
questioning will be kept secret.
It is suffice to say that Mardavich
admitted that he and a friend, whom
he knew only as Timmy, were “cow-
boying” in the neighborhood. They
drove up and down the streets look-
ing for a parked couple. They se-
lected the East Side because they felt
that rich people lived there. It was
Mardavich who shoved the gun up
against Maxwell and ordered him to
get out. He swore that his hand
closed down on the trigger involun-
tarily when the wealthy advertising
executive showed fight. ij
Pressed for the full name of Timmy,
he professed ignorance. His hang-
out, he said, was down on the lower
East Side. y
Later in the day, Assistant District
Attorney Rosenblum had him repeat
the confession in the hearing of his
arents. This was to forestall any
ater attempt on the part of the de-
fense to claim that it was secured un-
der duress.
A swarm of detectives were planted
on the East Side. Expert wire-men
tapped the telephones of friends of
the pair. At 7:45 a.m., two days later,
they heard a call that Timmy made to
a friend. He said he was broke and
had just come back from Pennsyl-
vania. Over the wire they heard him
say that after the Maxwell murder he
returned home, got eight dollars and
SILENT SHO
HE search for the fleeing killer
soon turned into a huge, nation-
wide manhunt. McClain was not
found in St. Louis. Clues and tips
trickled through that he had been
seen hitch-hiking west. The trail was
taken up by.Sergeant Sanders, who
eventually trapped the fugitive in
Lakeport, California, on June 7, 1940.
Edward McClain was brought back
to St. Louis, where, when faced with
the evidence and the testimony of his
former companions, he made a full
confession to murdering Emil Bouck-
aert, and took detectives to the spot on
a vacant lot near his home where he
had buried the death weapon—a
razor-sharp butcher knife. He de-
clared his motive for the brutal
slashing was revenge for Bouckaert’s
refusal to hire him in the store or
grant him small cash loans; also, he
declared, he intended to rob the
grocer but became frightened after
the murder and fled.
McClain was tried by a jury in Cir-
cuit Judge E. J. Sartorius’ court on
March 6, 1941, and found guilty of
first degree murder. His punishment
was fixed at life imprisonment in the
Missouri State Penitentiary. All the
other young men implicated in the
case were released without charges
against them.
(George Kane, Albert Schable, Carl
Mayfair and Joseph Patterson are
fictitious names to save innocent per-
sons from embarrassment.)
SINISTER ENIGMA OF THE
(Continued from
page 31)
hitch-hiked to Scranton where he
worked several days as a farmhand.
Unable to stand that life, he returned
to the city and now was asking his
friend for a hand-out. They made an
appointment to meet in the hallway of
a Walker Street tenement and when
they showed up the police placed him
under arrest.
Rushed to the office of Assistant
District Attorney Rosenblum, Timmy’s
prints were taken. He was Vincent
Morgano, the man the police had set
out to find in the first place!
Under the prosecutor’s questioning,
he broke down and confessed his part
in the crime, saying that he accom-
panied Mardavich to the foot of 93rd
Street and the East River where they
got rid of the murder weapon.
The comparative ease with which
a difficult murder case had been
broken did not surprise those who
have kept abreast of the activities of
one of the greatest Detective Divisions
in the nation—New York City’s Homi-
cide Squad.
The case now is in the hands of
Prosecutor Rosenblum who, in his
first year as one of District Attorney
Dewey’s chief assistants, sent seven-
teen men to the electric chair. In his
years as New York prosecutor, he has
yet to lose his first case. This is the
man the self-confessed killers will
face when they seek to avert the doom
that is now staring them in the face.
(Harrison is a fictitious name to
save an innocent person from em-
barrassment.)
2 SRE RM ee Hot
the man whose gi
ing—for, a natiy
Coroner’s jury,
through the wood
ness the ghost of
He said he calle
but that it movec
trance and vanisl
Investigators
office examined
spot where the a
posedly seen. The
there were no fo
The normal beli
not exist. It is
prove that they
average intelligen
scores of incident
credible events s
witnesses can onl
the presence of ¢
_ Such was this c
jury returned a v
J. Sailstad died a
received in the f
pressed no opinio
was accident, suic
The bones were
to Eau Claire wh
terred in the Sa
The insurance c
declined to pay th
on the young exe
said that they wer:
own minds that
FTER a prope:
ing, the wid:
to and married Ro
oil man residing i
years passed befc
against the insura
filed suit in the
Superior, Wiscons
$77,000 plus intere
The insurance cx
that a few huma
placed in the sumn
stad and the fire
effort to make peo
was dead.
This was dispro
made by the learn:
ing of the Univer
The latter had ma
amination of the
been exhumed folk
ing of the case. He
not bones alone th:
in the fire, but
doubt, it was the
man. As best as hi
the bone structure.
belonged to a male
that 21 years old
age of senility. X
teeth furnished by
with what could be
charred remains.
The single eler
doubt into the trial
of the man who swc
in the woods at 3
morning. The fire }
after 2 am. Obv
couldn’t be at this s
than the hour he
trapped in the burr
If it was Sailstad
the flames, as the C
he did, then this r
tenant Vincent Kiernan, were on dawn patrol that
early morning. They picked up the call and rushed
to the address given. There they found two other
prowl-cars and an ambulance.
Doctor Leon Goldstein from near-by Metropolitan
Hospital was perched on the running-board of a
low-shing, almost brand-new convertible coupe by
the curb. Collapsed on the seat of the car was a
heavy-set man. Over his shoulder, Inspector Kenny
could see the Doctor performing the routine pro-
fessional motions of fingering the man’s wrist, open-
ing the eyelids and placing his stethoscope on the
man’s chest.
Doctor Goldstein clambered out of the car and
said to the Inspector, “This man is dead, You'd bet-
ter notify the medical examiner.”
“What's the cause of death, Doctor?” Kenny
asked.
Doctor Goldstein shrugged his shoulders. “No ap-
parent cause,” he said. “It may be a heart attack.
No external signs of violence, at any rate.”
Inspector Kenny turned away. A heart attack—
this was nothing to interest him. He walked toward
a group of detectives standing on the sidewalk
questioning a man who wore the hat of a taxi-
driver. As he neared them he could hear the cabbie.
tt? TOLD her I couldn’t drive for her,” the man
was saying. “She’d have to drive herself. So we
pushed the guy’s body over on the other side of the
car and she drove and I followed. She said there
was a holdup and the fellow fainted and—”
“A holdup?” Inspector Kenny asked.
“Yeah,” said the cabbie. “That’s what she told
me,”
“All right,” said the Inspector. “Let’s have it
again.
Patiently the man went over his story. He was
John Fisichello of Ozone Park, Long Island, he said.
He’d been cruising around looking for a fare when
Horry Maxwell: A polo injury had strained
his heart and police at first thought the shock
of fighting with bandits had killed him
he noticed the girl standing beside the car. This
was at No. 151 East 81st Street.
The girl told him her escort had fainted and
asked the cabbie if he could drive the man home.
But that was against company rules, so Fisichello
compromised by placing the man’s body in the
opposite side of the car, and following as the girl
drove.
She told him, he said, that two men had at-
10 :
Mary Jane Cassidy,
shown leaving 4 police
station, helped authori-
ties with her testimony
* i?
ar” b As s)
VR INO IPSS OG,
Fivadbaside in’
Two blocks from theft
Brownell home, tucked in}
the lawn hedge of St.§
gj Augustine's Church, Ed: the superintendent of the |
yf ward Mey er Sane an: i Carlton Theater discov- |
kt SAT Ns Cm DAE By oe other package, also con- 1% ored one of the gruesome
oe CFe A et eG | toining parts of a humanity parcels propped against
Ye ° A i ‘ r=
4 The Brownell home at 28 Pros- mene 7 ci head wall near the doo
Tpect Place, Brooklyn, where “ai 3 ig
i parts of two women's bodies
“iwere found stuffed in a bar-
Zearel and also under water in
Biga flooded cellar.
TRAPPED!
The severed
hand of a
murdered
woman
clutched
several
dark halrs
—and they
came from
the head of
this bull-
necked Jani-
. tor.
By Former Inspector — ke Yen> Be: Anan a fs sie | |
John Coughlin—new York Police ot | fected Naren en || |
AS TOLD TO GERTRUDE KLEIN ~ as | The Lincoln Place home off
wf Miss Evelyn De Martino, [jj |
Pie eighteen, reported missing. an) I |
hen Right: Prospect Park Plaza, } %
DISMEMBERED TWO WOMEN! Sat fi pai woman's thigh was [i
ped ound. ey. :
wer
'
v
udner the improvised towel—then uttered a low cry of horror.
which The parcel contained a crudely hacked-off leg, ap-
oreeze parently a woman’s! The gruesome, discolored object had
ilging been severed below the knee and just above the ankle.
a pair As Hughes gazed with nausea on his find, Krudner ses
come | made haste to open the package he had picked up. This POR oh aa et. ee
th his also was swathed in several layers.of faded rags. With ; Snabihiagetaee ee , B.M.T. subway yard at
ousers trembling fingers the officer undid the inner wrappings pers é 36th Street, Brooklyn,
ape rma ar that he, too, was holding the severed egy ae! 4 hese where a bundle contain-
g, he This fragment was about five inches longer than the “I he Sc ‘eo ing a woman's head was |
bag, .; other. It bore the marks of two knife wounds, and had ‘a mee. tossed over a fence. m ;
le the been roughly chopped off at a point halfway through the ; yf ‘J i
knee cap, and above the ankle. Apparently the two hor-
rible pieces were the right and left leg of the same victim.
Aghast, Krudner and Hughes made a hasty search un-
remoeesteas
FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE
der the surrounding bushes, but finding nothing more,
they hurried to the station house .with their revolting
discovery,
many years as head of the homicide bureau had stamped:
him as one of New York’s premier detectives, arrived at
zales, Acting Chief Medical Examiner. Detective Captain
George H. Bishop, Lieutenant James S, Fitzpatrick, and
Detectives Edward Kaulbfleisch and Henry Senft were
already there to meet him.
One glance at the dismembered limbs was enough to
been very clumsily done—apparently with a not overly
sharp axe or hatchet. .
“ Here was murder as Savage and fantastic as had come
‘to light in years. But in what part of the metropolis had
the crime been committed? Who was the wdman, and
VISIT?
Sarah Brownell,
spinster rooming
house keeper, in-
tended to visit rel-
atives — but her
absence was ac-
counted for In a
far more ghastly
manner...
oe.
ary
4 a \
_ for some reason he had become frightened and had con-
-however, as these trousers were sold in great quantities |
4
DISAPPEARED
When Mrs, Selma Bennett (shown
with daughter) vanished, police
found that she met a horrible fate.
what sinister fiend lay behind the hideous fate she met?
It was impossiblé even to estimate the victim’s age from
the severed legs, and we realized at once the difficulties
we faced. Two’ hacked limbs found in Battery Park—
and ‘nothing else!
Attempting to reconstruct the killer’s steps, we rea- i
soned that he may have thrown the other Pieces of the !
victim’s body into the harbor near the park. Possibly he |
had been making a final trip there with the limbs when |
cealed his gruesome burden in the park. Police of the
marine division were immediately notified, and prepara- -
tions began at once for dragging the waters off the Bat-
tery seawall,
Meanwhile, Deputy Inspector Carey and his fellow in-
vestigators continued their. inspection of the curious as-
sortment of articles found with the limbs in the hope
that some hint as to the woman’s identity might be re-
3
throughout the country. There would be no way of check. ;
ing on them, ae
As Carey mulled over the assortment, he was suddenly i
reminded of the famous case of Anna Ammuller, a part /
of whose body had been found several years before in|
the Hudson River near 129th Street. That murder had |
been solved eventually by the tracing of a piece of Pillow |
ticking to the manufacturer, and then to its purchaser. :
But there was no chance of that here, the inspector de-
cided. The faded remnant of bathroom curtain and the
two worn laundry bags were too old to afford any such |
identification,
RETURNING to the khaki trousers, the officers reas:
soned from the size that the owner had been a man |
waist measurement. The waistband of the trousers was i
So small as to suggest an almost boyish build. Oil lib-
1
j
heen ables ee =
2
ee
Captain Bishop and Detective Shaw hurried to the
scene of the latest discovery, an alley at the rear of the
Carleton Theater at 135 Park Place, also in Brooklyn.
The sizeable package, done in the same manner as the
others, had been found under the iron stairway of a fire
exit opening into the theater alley by Amadio Campe-
tello, the manager. He had only partially unwrapped the.
parcel, and when he got a glimpse of its horrible contests,
he had hastened to notify an officer. ,
Bishop and Shaw opened the parcel now'as they stood
in the narrow alleyway through which a fine drizzle of
rain was sifting. Both men were veterans of the depart-
ment, but revulsion seized them as they undid the final
inner wrapping. There, among other things, were the left”
shoulder and arm of a woman. The ring finger of the -
hand had been cut off at the third joint. Gripped in the
remaining fingers were several strands of black hair. The
bundle had been wrapped in a faded red-and-white-
striped blanket, but the inner wrapping was of the same
heavy manila paper which had been used in the others.
Also in this package was a piece of white bedspread which
matched that found in Battery Park.
err Ane Medical Examiner Romeo W. Auerbach
examined the arm and shoulder, and said that un-
questionably the two sections found that morning had
come from the same body. He estimated that death had
taken place anywhere from twelve hours to three days
before. The strands of hair were carefully put away,
and the body parts immediately sent to the Bellevue
morgue, where Dr. Gonzales and members of his staff
continued their examination in the hope that something
might be revealed to establish the unfortunate victim’s
identity. de
But almost at the same time thatthe third macabre
Parcel was being found in the Carleton Theater alley, a
twenty-year-old youth had appeared at the Bergen Street
police station: He gave his name as Carl Bennett, and
THE DISCOVERY THAT STAGGERED NEW YORK
Patrolman George Hughes, shown with a plainclothesman,
stick to the spot in Battery Park where he and Officer Kru
the chopped portions. The discolored wrappings we
‘points with his night-
dner found the first of
rea vital clue.
. FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE = Uh erie
FURNISHED KEY TO RIDDLE
Christian Jensen, a grocery clerk, readily identified
the writing on the telltale wrapping paper—and
named the man who had used that paper.
reported the disappearance of his mother, Mrs. Alfred
ee cael
Bennett, from her home at 16 Lincoln Place, in Brook- .
lyn, where she lived with her husband, daughter and
another son.
The night before, Mrs. Bennett had left her home
around seven o’clock, saying she would be gone only an
hour or so. But she had not returned, and nothing had
been heard from her since. Early that morning, Carl ©
Bennett said, his sister had telephoned him that their
mother had not been home
all night. The young man
had dressed hurriedly and
gone home at once.’ There
the family had instituted
a search in the neighbor-
hood, but failing to find
any trace of Mrs. Bennett,
Carl had come to the Ber-
gen Street station to ask
Police assistance.
' The report of Mrs. Ben-
nett’s disappearance made
us prick up our. ears:
While it was true that
Mrs. Bennett had been
missing only since the
night before, and the Bat-
tery Park discovery was
two days old, we were not
passing up anything that
might hold the slightest
possibility of shedding
light on the problem con-
fronting us: Captain Bish-.
' op and some of his men
left at once to make an
investigation into the dis-
appearance.
Arriving at the Ben-
nett home, the officers
questioned the anxious
family and learned that
they had but recently
rycen npn mneenmeatinasie is
A Sapna ou saan Se oa iaby
FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE
\ NARRATOR fe ELIMAX OF HORROR
Police had difficulty in keeping the throng away as the
morgue wagon backed up at the Prospect Place house to
carry away the hacked portions of Mrs. Bennett’s body.
Former Police Inspector John
Coughlin tells here how a diabolical
human butcher was trapped.
e met? erally staining the front and legs of the pants indicated a bundle lying back of the well- clipped green hedge that
e from that the man might have been a waterfront worker, or fringed the church lawn. The presence of the rather large
culties possibly a mechanic. The latter suggestion was empha- bundle on the trim lawn puzzled him, for he had scamp-
?ark— sized when two fingers cut from suede gloves were found ered past that spot only a few minutes before and was
in the side pockets. almost certain it had not been there then.
e rea- The fingers were from different pairs of gloves, one Mrs. Marie Donovan, of 7 St. John’s Place, happened
the é gray and the other a light brown. They had evidently to be entering the church at that. moment, and the boy
lhe been cut off with a pair of scissors, and we knew that ran to tell her of the parcel. It was wrapped in a rose-
“enen mechanics frequently remove fingers from their gloves to and-white checkered blanket, and Mrs. Donovan thought
d con- secure a better grasp of objects. If the trousers belonged it might possibly be an abandoned baby put there to catch.’
of the to the slayer, we had a clue, though a faint one. the attention of those attending early mass. Reluctant to —
epara- A careful examination was now made of the heavy touch the package, she sent the boy to notify Patrolman -
e Bat- brown wrapping paper which had bound the package. It Frederick Byrnes, of the Bergen Street station, who was
oe was ordinary grocery store’ or laundry paper, and there standing on the corner nearby.
ow in- : were two sheets of it, one inside the other. Though the Byrnes came at once, opened the rose blanket, and
US aS= outside was badly smeared with oil like the trousers, it found under it a second wrapping of brown manila paper.
> hope was otherwise unmarked. But as Inspector Carey sep- He began untying the brown twine which held the paper,
be re- ‘gs arated the two pieces, his heart leaped. On the under: but when he caught.a glimpse of the contents, he sud-
2 were side of the paper was a column of figures scrawled‘in denly wheeled to shut off the view from the woman and -
: print pencil. They were the sort of figures a grocer or butcher the boy. The package contained part of the back and hip
ippar- might have written in summing up-a customer’s list of | of a woman!
ovised purchases. Here at last was something to work ou! The policeman hurried off with the sickening discov-
pread, The numbers were 10,49,15,39,10,10,13,25,33. No line ery to call his station, and Detective Fred Shaw was im-
2d the appeared after the final item but the total ended the mediately sent over. Within a few minutes, Shaw notified
column. In all probability, we reasoned, the nine articles us that the brown paper and cord around the gruesome,
bel or in the list had been purchased within the last week, and bloody portion were similar to those which had been
ousers possibly even on the very day of the murder, for it didn’t | used to bind the limbs found in Battery Park.
wufac- “" | seem likely. that the wrapping paper would have 2ain The half dozen detectives already engaged on the case
seless, around an ‘apartment for more than a day or so after sped to the scene. Assistant Medical Examiner Manuel E.
atities the purchases had been made. Martin began an examination of the new find, and con-.
heck- Acting on this theory, we immediately had the compu- __ tact with the Bellevue morgue was established at once
tation photographed and ordered it broadcast through as a preliminary to determining whether this was really
\denly all neighborhood stores in the hope that the writer might another part of the Battery Park victim. Deputy Inspector.
a part : recognize his hand and recall the customer. It was a vague Carey and Captain Bishop, after making a painstaking
ore in @ trail, but the only one we had so far. examination of the paper and piece of ragged blanket,
ry had Inquiries were then made at the Missing Persons Bu- were forced to admit that this package was as devoid of
dillow reau, but no disappearance had been reported there in tangible clues as the first, and that they were at a loss
haser. a * the last several days which seemed in any way connected to. know where to begin.
wr de- 4 with the macabre package i in Battery Park. The morning Doctors and detectives were still busy with the church
d the a papers carried black headlines about the shocking dis- lawn discovery when at ten o’clock, less than four hours
‘such % covery, but Saturday passed without any further prog- .Jater,’a third package was reported found! By this time
ress, and by midnight we were as Joven: in the dark as. ‘the whole police department was in an uproar. Who was
: ever, the butchering madman who was so brazenly going about
: rea~ But on Sunday we were e plunged. ints o wildest activity. the city disposing of his victim's hacked body? Were
n " At 6:35 that morning,‘Edward Meyer, a sixteen-year-old there other atrocities yet to come from his secret, blood- -
©: 4 boy, was playing on the lawn of St. Augustine’s Catholic stained slaughter chamber? Who had been his victim,
was sa Church at Sixth Avenue and Sterling Place in Brooklyn, and why had her disappearance not yet been noted? The
1 lib- a while waiting for seven o’clock mass to begin. He saw _ killer must be found at all costs—and quickly!
eR saraeenGen Rept ondnion ee
;
|
i
;
§
;
ght belong to the
mnell?”
But it would re-
his one portion of
righ—to establish
rpus delecti.”
lar further,” Cap-
ed the patrolmen.
thing.”
dan joined in the
ten supervised re-
ains to the Kings
through the dimly
1 led back to the
ed for the first time
side, near the far
as closed.
said to Bishop,
I didn’t see before
end of the hall. I
there?”
plied Bishop. He
several times with-
‘ied the knob. The
Placing, an ear to
d the sound of rau-
n within. “Some-
here!”
Bishop and Jordan
door in unison and
The door swung
startling a sleeping
ety iron bed on one
A short, heavy~-set
thirties stood up,
y, and scratched his
c. He was clad in
ousers and his. feet
ter?” he asked, rub-
eyes and smacking
s breath reeked of
and what are you
ped Bishop.
2e—Ludwig Halvor-
replied with a heavy
: “I am a carpen-
I get this room for
e furnace.”
re this morning?”
‘d.
‘o tell me you didn’t
the basement?”
iking all day in Bay
ght -I..came home
thing until you wake
do you want?”
his badge. . “Where
2” he asked. :
7,” shrugged Lee. “I
the country ‘for a
errupted Jordan, “I
it the other roomers
ut this man. Ill be
» with the carpenter,
ip to the second floor,
Mrs. Andrews back
Miss Kalik.
ear what you know
egian carpenter, Lee,
the basement,” de-
“How did he and
. along?”
”’ replied Mrs. An-
ion’t think Mrs. Ben-
nett liked him because of the hard
feelings between him and his former
boss, Miss Brownell.”
“What was the trouble there?”
“Well, when Miss Brownell owned
the house, Lee used to get drunk and
let the furnace go out. She’d com-
plain about it, and he’d get nasty.
Once he got so abusive that she went
down to the Bergen Street police sta-
tion with Mrs. Bennett and had him
charged with disorderly conduct. But
he got off with just a warning.”
“Thanks!” responded Jordan eager-
ly, as he turned and hastened back to -
the cellar.
Drawing Captain Bishop aside, Jor-
dan told_him in a low voice that he
had learned there had been bad feel-
ing between Miss Brownell and Lee.
Confronting the carpenter again,
Bishop demanded, “Did you see Mrs.
Bennett here yesterday?”
“Yah,” replied the stolid Lee, sco -
ing. “She come here about a leak.”
“What time was it?”
“Nine o’clock yesterday morning.
She told me water was running into
the basement next daor. I told her
a roomer. had put. paper down the
drain and stopped up the sewer, but
I cleaned it out.”
“Go on,” prompted Bishop. “What
did she do?”
“She asked me to show her what I
did. I took her down here. She saw
it and went away. She was mad—
awful mad.”
“And she didn’t come back again?”
“No. In a little while I went out to
Bay Ridge. I drank gin there until
late last night with my friends.”
“Did you hear any noise here last
night when you came home?”
“Yah,” replied Lee. ‘Maybe Mrs.
Bennett came back and met a burglar.”
“Look here,” put in Jordan, facing.
the carpenter. “The barrel in which
I found the remains was covered with
a tarpaulin and moved between the.
time I first entered the basement and
when I returned this afternoon. That
barrel didn’t move itself! Did you do
it, Lee?”
“I did not,” vowed the carpenter.
“Captain,” interrupted one of the
patrolmen, “we've just found some-
thing else.” Holding out a man’s
shirt, he explained, ‘We found this
stuffed up in the rafters.”
“Is this your shirt?” demanded
Bishop.
Lee shook his head negatively.
“Put it on!” the captain ordered.
The suspect complied with a black
look. The shirt was a perfect fit! .
“You're under arrest!” Captain
Bishop said. “Get your clothes and
come along with us.” ‘
The detectives followed Lee back
into his small room, and _ Bishop
spotted a tool chest on the floor.
“These yours?” he asked.
The carpenter nodded. ~~” .
Captain Bishop swung back the lid,
careful not to touch the contents.
Among the implements were an axe,
a hatchet and a long knife! The
blades of the axe and hatchet were
clean, but clinging to the knife blade
were tiny, dried drops of blood!
WENTY minutes later, in the de-
tectives’ room at headquarters,
Lee sat facing a trio of interrogators
—Captain Bishop, Brooklyn District
Attorney Charles J. Dodd and the
prosecutor’s ace aide, Assistant Dis-
trict Attorney Frederick L. Kopff.
“Dr. Marten is performing an au-
topsy on the remains,” Bishop told
aah 0c sa
the cold, unemotional Lee. “You'll
make it a lot simpler if you'll tell
us where the other pieces are.”
“J don’t know,” shrugged the sus-
pect. “I did not kill these women.
It was some other fella.”
At this point, Inspector John J.
Sullivan, seasoned interrogator of
tough criminals, joined in the grill-
ing. But after hours of intensive
questioning, he failed to obtain from
Lee anything but the most trivial
admissions.
Returning Lee to a detention cell,
FROM AUTHENTIC POLICE RECORDS
Brownell, was found under a large
rock at the Fifth Avenue entrance
to the Brooklyn-Manhattan Transit
Company’s trolley yards in the Bay
Ridge section.
Less than an hour later, patrolmen,
dredging the sewer outside the Pros-
pect Place house, retrieved a set of
false teeth which Miss Brownell’s
dentist definitely identified as hers.
Dr. Marten, swiftly reconstructing
the skull, fitted the teeth into it per-
fectly, thereby establishing the cor-
pus delicti of the one victim!
SCENE OF THE DOUBLE AXE MURDER: Detectives look on as workmen search a
sewer for remains of the victims outside of 28 Prospect Place, the murder house.
Inspector Sullivan held a conference
with District Attorney Dodd.
“Here’s the autopsy report,” Sulli-
van said, holding out a sheet. of type-
written paper. “Dr. Marten. finds
that Mrs. Bennett died from a sharp
blow of an axe or knife across the
neck. And the legs found in Battery
Park’ are not hers. We can only
assume that they belonged to Miss
Brownell.”
“But suppose we do prove the
identity of both bodies?” asked Dodd.
“That still leaves us without any~-
thing to link Lee to them—except
the circumstantial evidence of the:
bloodstained shirt and trousers, un-
doubtedly his, and the bloody knife
in the cellar. No one saw him move
that barrel and no one saw him dis-
osing of the legs in Battery Park.
‘ve got to have evidence that will
stand up in court.”
Early the next morning, on July
12, 1927, the big. break came. The
crushed skull of a woman, appar-
ently severed from the body of Miss
Meanwhile, Captain Bishop and
Detective Jordan were busily at
work forging the final links in the
damning chain of evidence surround-
ing, Lee. -
atiently canvassing the Bay Ridge
neighborhood, where the second head
had been found, the sleuths late that
afternoon located a housewife who
told them she had seen a man of Lee’s
description taking a package out of
a black bag at 39th Street and Fifth
Avenue on Friday afternoon. And they
turned up another witness, who lived
only seven doors from the murder
house on Prospect Place. She told
of seeing a man carrying a heavy
bundle taking a taxicab in front of
28 Prospect Place at 4 a. m. Sunday
morning, when Lee had sworn he was
lying drunk in his room!
Taken to Brooklyn’s antiquated
Raymond Street jail, where Lee was
being detained, both women unhesi-
tatingly picked Lee out of a line-up
of ten prisoners as the man they had
seen.
45
an
In a last-minute attempt to wring
a confession from Lee, Inspector Sul-
livan recited the evidence.
“You were seen* disposing of Miss
Brownell’s body last Friday. She
had not been seen since the 4th. We
believe you killed her—either in a
drunken quarrel or to rob her of the
$4000 in savings we’ve never found.
Perhaps she had hidden her money
too well, or you took it and hid it
yourself. That doesn’t matter. A
motive is not essential to your con-
viction.
“We believe you cut up the body
of Miss Brownell to dispose of it.
You took your time, taking pieces of
it to various points on different days,
never expecting to be discovered.
Then, last Saturday, Mrs. Bennett
surprised you and demanded to go
to the basement. © You couldn’t re-
fuse her without arousing her sus-
picions. What she saw there, we'll
probably never know, but it was
enough to convince her Miss Brow-
nell had been slain. Then you killed
Mrs. Bennett to keep her from ex-
posing you!”
Thus was pieced together the jig-
saw puzzle of Brooklyn’s butchered
bodies.
Indicted for first degree murder,
Lee was held without Bail to await
crash as he ploughed into a table,
upsetting it, and sprawled on the floor.
A waiter, who, unnoticed by the
gunman, had been reading an early
morning tabloid in a _ rear- booth,
glanced up in surprise at the crash.
For an instant he was transfixed
as he saw Trifon, crouched like an
animal at the end of the bar, and a
gunman lunging past Trifon toward
the archway. Then, like a huge spring
released, the waiter catapulted from
the booth and streaked for the tav-
ern’s front door, crying, “Police! Ban-
dits! Holdup!”
The gunman stopped in his tracks,
whirled. But he never got a chance
to fire. For at that moment Trifon
sprang and, with an exultant cry,
clamped his fingers like steel talons
around the gunman’s throat.
With an ugly snarl, the gunman
furiously wrenched himself around
and jammed .his gun against Trifon’s
chest. There were two muffled explo-
sions and Trifon crumpled to the floor.
Before ‘he could fire again, however,
Stotzing, disregarding the danger to
his own life, hurtled back into the
barroom and lashed out at him with
knotted fists.
Staggered by one blow, the gun-
man answered with a blazing gun.
One slug cut through Stotzing’s pants
leg, another bored into the bar. And
now .the gunman bolted for the door
and vanished into the night. Stotzing
knelt beside his wounded bartender.
It was thus that the waiter and
Patrolman George Creighton found
them on that night of August 7, 1940.
And for the law it marked the begin-
ning of a trail studded with bullets
assion, and craven friends, linked
y jealousy of a woman’s charms; a .
46
ee (RL CRITE PEM eonaill scien
AMAZING DETECTIVE CASES
trial.. Edward J. Reilly, noted crimi-
nal lawyer, entered the plea of not
guilty for him, and promptly began
a long fight to save the stolid car-
penter from the death penalty.
A blue ribbon jury was picked, in
view of the highly circumstantial
evidence in the case, and on Novem-
ber 3, 1927, after five hours of de-
liberation, returned a verdict finding
him guilty of murder in the first
degree.
en days later, Lee was led be-
fore County Judge Alonzo G. Mc- .
Laughlin for sentencing. Asked if
he had anything to say, he declared:
“I am innocent.” #
“I sentence you,’ Judge McLaugh-
lin .pronounced gravely, “to die in
the electric chair during the week
bre January 2, 1928. So help
you, God.”
Reilly’s appeal for a new trial au-
tomatically stayed Lee’s execution,
but five months later the conviction
was upheld by the Court of Appeals
at Albany. is execution now was
set for the week ending June 18. But
the colorful and brilliant Reilly won
additional reprieves by demanding
that a lunacy commission examine
Lee, winning the intervention of the
Norwegian Consul General in Lee’s
behalf and asking Governor Alfred
E. Smith for executive clemency. All
these moves, however, failed.
On the night of August 2, one hour
before midnight, Governor Smith re-
fused a last minute plea for an ex-
tension of the reprieve and Lee was
led into the Sing Sing death chamber,
accompanied by a Protestant chap-
lain. Scanning the faces of the wit-
nesses as he was re, ey into the
chair and blindfolded, Lee mur-
mured, “I don’t see why I have to
die when I never did anything to
anybody.”
The generators in the death house
hined as gaunt Robert Elliott closed
the switch. Lee’s body: convulsed,
then grew limp. A wisp of smoke
curled up from the chair and the
odor of burnt flesh pervaded the
room, The prison physician placed
a stethoscope at Lee’s chest and pro-
nounced him dead. The time was
11:09 p. m. Those responsible for
Lee’s conviction were convinced that
the brutal butchery of two innocent
women had at last been avenged. —
The names Pearl Andrews, June
Carlton and Bess Kalik, as used here,
are fictitious in order that innocent
persons may be spared embarrass-
ment. , .
GORGEOUS DECOY AND HER LETHAL
PLAYMATE
trail that did not end until May, 1942.
INUTES later, a squad car bear-
ing Detectives Charles Wrage
and George Kannengeiser whirled up
to the tavern, which was known as
Christy’s Sea Garden, at 90-31 Sut-
phin Boulevard, Jamaica, L, I.
“The gunman ran north toward the
subway!” exclaimed the waiter, after
the detectives had listened to a brief
account of what had occurréd. (The
subway was three blocks to the
north.) “I saw him running away
while I was standing on the corner
of Jamaica Avenue yelling for a cop,”
he added, referring to a thoroughfare
50 feet south of the tavern, along
which ran an elevated railway.
“He went down into the subway!”
ut in one of a dozen men who had
en attracted by the shots and yells.
“How do you know?” asked Detec-
tive Wrage, wondering why, with an
elevated train right at hand, the gun-
man would run three blocks north.
“I saw him,” said the witness. “I
was coming this way from the subway
when a stocky, hatless youth ran past
me. I turned and saw him dive down
the subway stairs.”
Wrage and his partner jumped into
the squad car and sped to the subway.
At three o’clock in the morning, they
knew, subway trains ran only. every
thirteen minutes.
“A dark complexioned young man
with tortoiseshell glasses?’ repeated
the station agent in answer to Wrage’s
query. “Yeah, One went through the
turnstile a.few minutes ago. He must
have caught the train that just left.”
“Stop the train!” directed had ng
“Hold it at the next station. Don’t let
anyone get out.”
(Continued from page 15)
As the agent reached for a phone,
the officers raced for the subway
stairs and their car. At the next sta-
tion the train was waiting. They went
through it, gripping guns in their
pockets, closely scanning faces. But
of the twenty odd passengers only two
were young and dark complexioned,
and of these only one was wearing
glasses.
Identifying himself as a dentist, the
latter willingly agreed to accompany
the officers back to the scene of the
crime. But the other. youth, indig-
nantly resented being questioned and
protested that he’d never worn a pair
of glasses in his life.
“You’re coming with us anyway,”
said Wrage. Glasses, he knew, were
a common disguise of many bandits.
Especially tortoise shell glasses. The
suspect easily could have thrown both
glasses and gun away. ‘
Back at the tavern, however, Stotz-
ing and the waiter stared at the two
suspects and slowly shook their heads.
“You’re damn right!” said the bel-
ligerent suspect lige emg ah “IT got
on the subway at 169th Street,” he
added, naming the end of the line,
ana stations beyond Sutphin Boule-
vard. :
The dentist admitted it was he
who'd been seen running for the sub-
way on Sutphin Boulevard but
claimed he’d been hurrying only so he
wouldn’t miss the next train. .
An ambulance surgeon, bendin
over the wounded bartender, looke
up and said, “This man is i bo A
blood transfusion is our only hope
of even reviving him. Both bullets
went clean through his body.”
The tavern door opened and De-
_tective Captain Henry Flattery fol-
lowed by Di
Harry Woo
of the Homi
dying bart
out.
And Capt
hearing thx
crime, if its
ried away,
behind Trif
odd that if 1
man’s only ;
up the $10:
prietor dro;
“What's t
tery sudder
aerial wire
“Oh, I fou
the door w
cop,” said t
“Was it tl
“Why, nc
couldn’t ha
seen it wh:
their bill ar
“Who we!
The wa
shrugged
never saw
before. T
looked
lovers. She
a gorge
blonde——"
“Okay,”
Flattery, ct
it short s:
could send
an alarm
spread a dr
through
neighborho
very s
and every
subway anc
vated sta
within a m
the tavern
combed di
the hour
followed, bi
dragnet yi
only a few }
men who
swered the
man. Anc
developed,
be stocky a
proved to b:
way home
or were o
night jobs.
“Your de
is too vagu
“It fits thor
thing distin
“Nothing
said Stotzi
that there
evil about
They _ glitt
wanted to
black hair-
“It was
cut in-the
“Was hy
Flattery.
*“He migh
“But I dic
his voice.”
Detective
handed Ca
jacketed .4!
“T dug ‘
bar and tw
said. “You
on the twi
fon’s body.
Directing
the ballisti
with Stotz
AMAZING.
pedly had been found which lacked
egs.
Back in the cellar of the Prospect
Place house,. Jordan and Bennett
walked through the dimly-lighted
hall to the furnace room. It was a
small place, six by eight feet. In the
center was the boiler, now without
a fire, and beside it stood two empty
ashcans. Against one wall, a water-
logged barrel stood beneath a gutter
pipe leading from outside. _Detec-
tive Jordan walked over and peered
into the barrel. It was fill with
dirty rainwater.
Jordan looked inside the furnace
and into the ashcans, then walked
back to the door.
“See any clues?” asked the anxious
Bennett. palais
“No,” he replied. “I would like you
to come down to headquarters with
me. There’s a lot more information
that we will need to continue this in-
vestigation.” 1
ALF an hour later, Detective
Jordan returned alone to the
Prospect Place house. He went up
to the second floor and knocked at
the door of Mrs. Andrews.
“I beg your pardon,” he said polite-
ly, “but I’d like to ask you a few more
questions.” ’
“Tl be glad to answer them,” said
the roomer. “Will you come in? Miss
Kalik is here with me, having some
coffee.”
Sitting down on the chair Mrs. An-
‘drew offered him, the detective asked,
“Did Mrs. Bennett, to your knowledge,
ever have any serious difficulties with
anyone?” ; :
“None at all that we know of,” re-
plied Mrs. Andrews.
“Did either of you ladies hear any
strange noises down in the cellar yes-
terday?”.
Mrs. Andrews thought a moment.
“Yes I did—last night, around mid-
night. I was still awake. It was a
heavy, pounding sound. But I didn’t
think anything of it at the time.”
“I heard it, too,” said Miss Kalik.
“But this is a noisy place. I didn’t
pay any attention, either.” .
“It may have been significant,” ob-
served Jordan as he rose to leave.
On the way downstairs, Detective
Jordarf pondered his next move. What
was the answer to this weird enigma?
An elderly woman had disappeared
from her room without a trace.
attractive matron had vanished while
on her way to visit the elderly, wo-
man, Surely there was a connection
between these two disappearances
Were the two women involved in
some trouble which caused them to
flee? Had they been kidnaped? Or
had they been slain by some fiend?
Mrs. Bennett had gone to investigate
a leak in that cellar. The two room-
ers had heard strange noises down
there. Yet the basement seemed de-
void of clues. Jordan decided to
make another. search there.
Going down again to the cellar, he
walked back into the furnace room,
The door of the empty furnace still
44
AMAZING DETECTIVE CASES
hung open. The ashcans were un-
disturbed. But the rain barrel no
longer stood under the drain pipe. It
had been moved into one corner and
covered with a tarpaulin!
Carefully Jordan lifted the edge of
the canvas. Now he sensed what he
had overlooked before—a nauseating
odor struck his nostrils. Reaching in-
to the murky water, he felt a soft,
spongy object. Withdrawing his arm
he held up what at first appeared to
-be a piece of blackening raw meat.
But to his astonishment, he saw, upon
close inspection, that the object: was
a severed human thigh!
Delving into the barrel again, he
elutched something tangled and
stringy. Pulling out‘his hand, he
found that he held, hanging by the
hair, the bloody, chopped-off head of
a woman!
Jordan dashed upstairs to the tele-
phone in the first floor hall and put
in a call to Detective Captain George
Bishop, his superior, at headquarters.
“Captain,” he. exclaimed, “this is
Jordan over at 28 Prospect Place.
I’ve just found a body—or what’s
left of it. You’d better come over
at once!”
INUTES later, a siren howled
outside and a squad car screeched
to a stop in front of the house. Cap-
tain Bishop and two patrolmen got
out, bringing with them the husband
of the missing Mrs. Bennett. They
entered the house and Mrs. Andrews
directed them to the basement.
“Where is it, Jordan?” asked
Bishop.
“What have you found!” whispered
Bennett in apprehensive anguish.
“Some human remains,” said Jor-
dan as kindly as possible. “In there,”
the detective ‘added, indicating the
_ furnace room.
“Good Lord!” exclaimed the cap-
tain, as he bent over the ghastly re-
mains, “this is sheer butchery!”
“God ighty!” shrieked Bennett
as Jordan held up the severed head.
“It’s Selma—my wife!” Then cover-
ing his eyes with his hands, he turned
away. reat sobs wracked his body.
“This makes sense,” snapped Cap-
tain Bishop as one of the patrolmen
led the hysterical Bennett away. “I
was in touch with Manhattan head-
quarters this morning, and they’re
‘still trying to identify the dismem-
bered legs found yesterday in Bat-
.tery Park. So far, all they’ve estab-
lished is that the legs are those of a
woman, Perhaps the legs belong with
these remains.”
Dr. Manuel E. Marten, ace assistant
medical examiner, had arrived at the
scene. He inspected the thigh and
‘head carefully. “These are parts of
two different bodies,” he declared.
“The thigh already is decaying, in-
.dicating death took place several
days ago. From the condition of the-
head, would say the victim died
. within the last 24 hours.”
“It’s possible, then,” asked Captain
‘Bishop, “that since the head has been
identified by Bennett as that of his
| JIGSAW PUZZLE OF BROOKLYN'S
DETECTIVE BUTCHERED BODIES com rom oem
wife, the thigh might belong to the
body of Miss Brownell?”
“Quite possible. ~But it would re-
quire more than this one portion of
the body—the thigh=to establish
Miss Brownell’s corpus delecti.”
“Search the cellar further,” Cap-
tain Bishop ordered the patrolmen.
“Don’t overlook a thing.”
Bishop and Jordan joined in the
search as Dr. Marten supervised re-
moval] of the remains to the Kings
County Morgue. :
Walking again through the dimly
lighted hall which led back to the
stairs, Jordan noticed for the first time
a doorway on one side, near the far
end. The door was closed.
“Captain,” he said to Bishop,
“there’s something I didn’t see before
—a room at the end of the hall. I
wonder what’s in there?”
“We'll see,” replied Bishop. He
knocked soundly several times with-
out result; then tried the knob. The
door was locked. Placing, an ear to
the wood, he heard the sound of rau-
cous snoring from within. “Some-
one’s sleeping in there!”
Drawing back, Bishop and Jordan
lunged against the. door in unison and
the lock snapped. The door swung
open with a bang, startling a sleeping
figure from a ri oy iron bed on one
side of the room. short, heavy~set
man in his late thirties stood up,
swaying unsteadily, and scratched his
tangled dark hair. He was clad -in
undershirt and trousers and. his. feet
were bare. ’
“What’s the matter?” he asked, rub-
bing his bloodshot sc and smacking
his a lips.. His breath reeked of
alcohol, ,
“Who are you and what are you
doing here?” snapped Bishop.
“My name is Lee—Ludwig Halvor-
sen Lee,” the man replied with a heavy
Norwegian accent. “I am a carpen-
ter. I live here. I get this room for
taking care -of the furnace.”
“Were you here this morning?”
asked Jordan. —_
The man nodded.
“Do you mean to tell me you didn’t
hear us searching the basement?”
“T was out drinking all day in Bay
Ridge. Last night I .came home
drunk. I hear nothing until you wake
me up. But what.do you want?”
Bishop showed his badge... “Where
is Miss Brownell?” he asked. .
“TI do not know,” shrugged Lee. “I
think she go to the country -for a
visit!” ‘
“Captain,” interrupted Jordan, “I
want to see what the other roomers
have to say about this man. Ill be
right back!” ;
eaving Bishop with the carpenter,
Jordan hurried up to the second floor,
where he found Mrs. Andrews back
in her room with Miss Kalik.
“I want to hear what you know
about this Norwegian carpenter, Lee,
who rooms in the basement,” de-
manded Jordan. “How did he and
Mrs. Bennett get along?” .
“Oh, all right,” replied Mrs. An-
drews, “But I don’t think Mrs. Ben-
in here?” Jordan inquired.
“June Carlton,” replied Bennett:
“She is a pretty brunette, only about
eighteen.”
Jordan knocked, then knocked
again, but got no answer.
“Oh, she’s probably at church,”
said Bennett. ‘Let’s try Bess Kalik
on the other side of the hall.”
Detective Jordan’s knock brought
Miss Kalik, tall, big-boned and
blonde, to the door in a wrapper.
“What do you want?” she asked
sleepily.
“Have you seen my wife?” asked
~Bennett.
“No, I haven’t—not since Thurs-
day.”
. “Have you seen Miss Brownell?”
put in Jordan. :
“Come to think of it,” replied Miss
Kalik, “I haven’t seen her either.
But she sticks pretty close to her
room. Isn’t she there?”
Jordan shook his head.
‘ “That’s certainly strange,” she
said. “Are you sure?”
“The door’s locked,” said Ben-
nett, “and if she’s in there sleeping,
we knocked loud enough to waken
her,”
“Maybe she’s sick!”
“We're going to see,” asserted De-
tective Jordan, starting downstairs
with Bennett. Miss Kalik, in her
wrapper, and Mrs. Andrews, their
curiosity aroused, crept after them.
With a quick, joint pressure of
their shoulders, Jordan and Ben-
nett forced open the door of Miss
Brownell’s room. Everything was
in order, but the elderly woman was
not there. The bed was carefully
made, and the opened door of the
closet showed her, clothes neatly-
-hung up inside.
“Maybe the old lady is away on a
trip,” suggested the detective.
“She never travels anymore,” re-
plied Bennett, “I can’t understand
it. But this isn’t finding my wife.” |
“Just a minute,” said Jordan.
“We have two strange disappear-
ances here—your wife’s and Miss
Brownell’s. We can’t overlook the
possibility that they’re connected.
I have a hunch that if we can find
Miss Brownell, we’ll find your wife
—and vice versa. Now, tell me,”
the detective continued, “didn’t you
say your wife was called over here
to investigate a leak in the cellar?”
Bennett nodded:
“Well,” said Jordan, “that’s the
next place we’re going to look.”
While the detective and Bennett
went down into the basement of the
rooming house, detectives at the Old
Slip Station in Manhattan still were
seeking to identify the severed legs
Patrolman Krudener had found the
previous morning in Battery Park.
But their efforts were fruitless. A
check of all precincts in the city re-
vealed no (Continued on page 44)
dies:
secovered the bo
whe ee Spusbond: CARTAN
»parel is carefully tabula
ae
and Bennett walked
f the Prospect Place
and entered through
ront door.
3s Brownell’s room
Bennett, pointing to
on the left.
nnett knocked loudly,
or an answer. There
d he knocked again.
s no response.
iny,” observed Ben-
Brownell doesn’t go
t even to church. But
where she is today.”
upstairs, they knocked
‘ Mrs. Pearl Andrews,
er. Mrs. Andrews, a
sd woman of middle
t help them.
said, “I haven’t seen
And I don’t know
3rownell is. I haven’t
> the Fourth.”
rs. Andrews, Detective
Mr. Bennett walked
ill to. the next room.
pen to know who lives
. oming
€ a Brooklyn rl ar.
in the cellar © e of the axe sloy
HOUSE: Here ! smson rampsg
Pus atone roman suns nen
° . 2 Shep use,
gj But the jury refused to believe him. | 3 he ; ws, “aa
Ae So) Sy a
a ey Te)
ody in the
tstretched,
right arm
lifted the
oodstained
one that
‘ight eye,”
irked. “It
ie, anyway
ight hand.
iver. That
hand,’ but
the sheriff
1ot the sort
about him
his wife.”
ps because
low to the
ig, silently
urder, that
‘ompanion.
It looks
to believe
ay—would
‘n he bent
{, she was -
. her right
the other
he almost
hed in by
the body.
ire length
ime.
nts on the
I’ve never
ne reason,
don’t hold
nly visible
e battered
and across
2 husband.
d upstairs
one of his
sed.
“There’s
. that
THE AXE——
that decapitated Mrs. Bernice Farnsworth held
no satisfactory prints on the handle, although
it was almost completely covered with blood.
not a sign of footprints or other tracks, except those
apparently made by Whitmore, his sleigh, the wagon
and horse, and those made by Whitmore and Bennett
when they came back. ‘Those tracks are very fresh—
not more than a couple hours old, I would say.”
Lieutenant George, of the State Police, flailing his
arms for warmth, spoke up:
“J think we can safely eliminate Bennett and Whit-
more, at least for the present. I would guess that
Farnsworth and his wife have been dead at least three,
perhaps five, days.”
The sheriff said, “That’s my hunch, but what do you
base it on, Bill?”
“Well, first, the dried blood. Second, the last snow
fell Wednesday afternoon, if you remember—more than
three days ago. If Farnsworth killed his wife a couple
of days ago, almost certainly there would be tracks
outside. He would have had to feed his stock. If
somebody else did the killings, which doesn’t seem
likely, there would still have to be tracks outside, if it
was done a couple of days ago. Then, third, Sheriff,
of course there is the stock in the barn. You don’t
need to be an agricultural expert to see that the cows
and those two horses haven't been fed or watered in
several days.”
“Yep,” Carlson concurred. “That’s about the way I
look at it. Any of you fellows find anything upstairs?”
“Yes, Sheriff,” another deputy volunteered. “In the
bedroom: there’s a bureau. The top drawer had been
gone through ina hurry—not the other drawers. There’s
a small tin box in the drawer that has several bank-
books. The accounts are joint savings—either Farns-
worth or his wife could withdraw the money. The room
is in disorder, and there could have been a struggle up
there. But there’s no sign of blood.”
“Okay. When the fingerprint man arrives, he’ll go
through the house. The coroner can give us a better
idea how long the Farnsworths have been dead. Now,
suppose you Hawkshaws listen to my reconstruction of
what happened, and pick any flaws you can find in it.”
“We're listening,” one of the men answered. “Shoot.”
“How’s this? Harold Farnsworth had a bad record—
very bad. I'll go into that later, but as you listen to
me, keep in mind that he’s been in and out of several
New York penitentiaries. And, a year ago, he marries
solved a bloody
~t'-
axe murder!
d she sets him up in this dairy
this fine woman, an
business.
“All right. Comes the time he wants some money—
we don’t know what for, but he demands some heavy
dough. Sam,” he continued, turning to the deputy who
had examined the bedroom, “how much money was
in those accounts?”
“About six or seven hundred dollars, Sheriff. Quite,
a tidy sum for farmers hereabouts.”
“yes, He demands that his wife give him the bank-
books. For one, or another reason, Mrs. Farnsworth
says no. She knows her husband’s prison record, and
she says no to whatever it is that Farnsworth wants
money for. They may have had some struggle in the
bedroom.
“So what happens now?” Sheriff Carlson continued:
“Mrs. Farnsworth takes fright at her husband’s action,
and she runs downstairs and then to the cellar. Farns-
worth follows. He picks up the axe, and lets her have
it. The sight of the blood, of the dead wife who was
so good to this ex-con, sets him crazy with remorse.
He looks down at himself, and sees he’s covered with
blood. That {finally unbalances him. His hands are
dripping blood and he stumbles up the cellar stairs. He
must have had the 38 in his pocket—possibly it was
kept in the drawer that Sam found upset. He walks
to the middle of the floor, leaving a trail of her blood,
and bumps himself off. (Continued on page 91)
“"
etectiy
'. ant takin ho
‘ate aq atlneng
a ie
+ ee
»
Hie shivering deputy sherits stanipiny: up and down
the parlor of the Farnsworth farmhouse were ve
lieved when, around midnight, they agreed amongst
themselves that the way in which the man and
: oy
wife had died was easily explained.
: Yes, it was open-and-shut, they thought. The man,
Harold Farnsworth, had pone to the cellar and = taken
the axe to his wife, Bernice. Then, hand dripping: blood,
he had ascended the stairs and, here in the parlor, he
had sent a .38 bullet crashing into his brain.
It was as plain as the nose on your face. Now all that
0 e remained was to remove the bodies, feed the bellowing,
half-starved cows and the frightened horses, make out
a slip for the county files and mark it “Murder and
: Suicide—Case closed.”
Everyone was relieved. The investigators had been
at the farm since 6 p.m., and the interior of the dwelling,
where the corpses had apparently lain for four or five
days, had the temperature of an ice-box. The deputies
.
and State Police officials began to shuffle out to the
barnyard, where their cars stood in deep snow.
The auto headlights threw the rude building into high
relief. Bizarre shadows flickered on the high drifts of
. snow. Impatiently, one of the deputies honked his horn
several times to remind two men, still lingering indoors,
g ; that it was even colder outside than in the house where
B RICHARD WARREN aman and his wife lay dead,
y : The two men, delaying the start of the police cavalcade
i A ; back to Little Valley, N. Y., were Sheriff Lester W.
‘ ; ‘ Carlson and Elmer Miller, topflight investigator for
District Attorney A. Edward
Krieger of Cattaraugus County.
Other cars began adding to the
din. What was the matter with
the sheriff and Miller? Weren’t
the killings as obvious as ABC?
Only a few minutes ago, Carlson
and Miller had agreed with the
others that murder and suicide was
the self-evident answer to the
deaths. The murder was once of
incredible brutality—Farnworth’s
wife had been almost beheaded
A HUNCH—
led them to horror.
William Whitmore, at
left, and Ira Bennett.
but that didn't
What was ho!
Then Miller,
his astuteness 1D
porch of the far:
by the cars. H
. “Come on bar
no suicide here
An_ hour bef
Bennett, a farm
from the Farns
man, William W
it
‘up and down
ouse were re-
zreed amongst
the man and
ht. The man,
lar and taken
‘ripping blood,
the parlor, he
Pain,
Now all that
‘he bellowing,
sos, make out
“Murder and
ors had been
the dwelling,
' four or five
The deputies
e out to.the
snow.
ing into high
igh drifts of
‘ked his horn
ring indoors,
house .where
‘ce Cavaleade
Y Lester W.
‘stigator for
A. Edward
s County.
iding to the
matter with
'? Weren’t
is as ABC?
‘go, Carlson
d with the
suicide was
ver to the
was one of
“arnworth’s
beheaded—
¥
£ but that didn’t make the case a complicated one.
What was holding up those guys?
Then Miller, well-known in up-state New York for
his astuteness in the solution of crime, came out on the
porch of the farmhouse. His big frame was spotlighted
by the cars. He beckoned with his right arm:
“Come on back, you lugs, and get to work!
no suicide here. It’s a double murder, men!”
An hour before, the alarm had been raised by Ira
Bennett, a farmer who lived half a mile down the road
from the Farnsworths’ place. He had sent his hired
man, William Whitmore, to his neighbor’s farm to return
There’s
a borrowed wagon. Whitmore had attached the wagon
to a sleigh and jogged over the frozen roads. When he
reached the Farnsworth yard, it immediately occurred
to him that something was wrong. No smoke was
coming from the chimney, and a few yards away in
the barn he could hear the pitiful bellowing of the
unmilked stock and the stamping and neighing of the
starved horses.
OS than his own, there were no signs of tracks
in the snow that lay heavily around the house. A
deathly stillness was everywhere. Whitmore shivered
—with something else beside the sub-zero weather. He
unhooked the wagon, left it in the yard, and returned
in haste to his employer. :
“Might be they’re sick,” Bennett commented when
the hired man finished his tale. “IH get a couple of
flashlights and we'll go back together.”
At the Farnsworths’ front door, Bennett knocked
repeatedly. There was so sound within. It was now
dark, and the men turned on their flashlights. Bennett
opened the unlocked door, and walked indoors, Whit-
more at his heels.
“My God!” he exclaimed. “Watch your step, Bill!”
The beams of the two flashlights had fallen on a
man’s body, outstretched on the parlor floor. The head
lay in a pool of: coagulated blood. The lower part of
the man’s body was covered with human gore. His
hands were smeared with blood.
The hired man stepped carefully over the body, which
was easily recognizable as that of Farnsworth. He
INJURED
he lay there helpless
until she discovered
him and called aid.
MRS. FARNSWORTH——
, “Her murder was worst
: I'd ever seen,” said a
' veteran expert on crime.
ne a
dashed up the stairs, fearful of finding Mrs. Farnsworth
also dead in one of the bedrooms. But the wife was
not upstairs.
He returned to the parlor, and then went down to
the cellar. In the center of the stone floor, surrounded
by blood and bits of human flesh, was the horribly
mutilated body of Bernice Farnsworth. All that held
the woman’s head to the torso were a few sinews. It
lolled crazily to one side, the eyes staring tragically
at the petrified Whitmore.
The beams of his flashlight picked up blood every-
where. There was blood as far as 20 feet from the
body. There were also bits of bone and patches of
hair. Red splotches stained the walls and ceilings.
The hired hand felt himself reeling, and put out a
hand to steady himself. Slowly he made his way back
upstairs. His employer was still staring at the dead
neighbor.
“Jra! Ira! The w-w-wife’s d-down cellar, all
b-butchered up like a h-hog!” he stammered.
“I can’t look at any more,” Bennett returned. “Let’s
get back to my place right away and phone the sheriff.”
A PARTY of ten investigators, headed by Sheriff
* Carlson, arrived at the Farnsworth place within
The time was March, 1935.
half an hour. Carlson
brought a number of his deputies, and also present were
Miller from the district attorney’s office, Lieutenant
William George, of the State Police barracks at Friend-
ship, N. Y., and several of the latter’s aides.
While the other men scattered around the grounds
looked for tracks and examined the upstairs rooms,
Carlson and Miller bent over Farnsworth’s body in the
parlor. The farmer lay on his back, legs outstretched,
his left arm resting over his chest. The right arm
rested on the floor. The sheriff carefully lifted the
right arm and beneath it, near the man’s bloodstained
hand, was a .38. One bullet had been fired.
“The one bullet would seem to be the one that
entered Farnsworth’s head, just above the right eye,”
the district attorney’s chief investigator remarked. “It
looks like he was standing when—let’s assume, anyway
—he shot himself, holding the gun in his right hand.
As he fell, his fingers relaxed around the revolver. That
would explain why it was not found in his hand, but
a few inches away.”
“I know a good deal about Farnsworth,” the sheriff
commented. ‘He was a bad character—but not the sort
who would commit suicide. I'll tell you about him
later. Let’s go take a look at what's left of his wife.”
The two men, carefully picking their steps because
of the trail of blood on the stairs, went below to the
cellar. For a minute, the two men said nothing, silently
examining the dreadful scene.
“This is about the worse, in the way of murder, that
I’ve ever seen, Sheriff,” Miller told his companion.
“You'd think a gorilla had been loose in here. It looks
like suicide upstairs, all right, but it’s hard to believe
that Farnsworth—despite his record, as you say—would
do this to his wife.”
Even the sheriff had to steel himself when he bent
over the woman’s body. Like her husband, she was °
outstretched on her back, feet slightly apart, her right
arm bent upwards to rest on her shoulder, the other
lying along the stone floor. Not only was she almost
decapitated, but her features had been bashed in by
the murder weapon that lay a few feet from the body.
The weapon was an axe. Almost the entire length
of its handle was covered with blood and slime.
_ Miller remarked, “There may be fingerprints on the
axe handle, since there’s blood on it. But I’ve never
had much luck with axe-handles. For some reason,
probably the hardness of the wood, they don’t hold
prints very well.”
Although the floor was dirty and dusty, plainly visible
was a light trail of blood leading from the battered
body to the cellar steps, thence up the stairs and across
the parlor floor to the prostrate figure of the husband.
Carlson called the men from outdoors and upstairs
to the parlor for a conference. He asked one of his
deputies what the search out-of-doors disclosed.
“Practically nothing,” the deputy answered. ‘“There’s
It was a bloodless gun that
ek
ws
THE AXE-—
that deca
no satisfc
it was a
not a sigh
apparentls
and horse
when the:
not more
Lieuten
arms for
_ ok thin
more, at
Farnswo!
perhaps !
The sh
base it o!
“Well.
fell Wed:
three da:
of days
outside.
somebod
likely, t
was do!
of cour:
need to
and thc
several
“Yep
look at
“Yes.
bedroo:
gone t!
a smal
books.
worth
is in d
there.
“Ok
throu:
idea bh
suppo
what
OW,
“He
very
me, §
New
lt
\
On the’ Sth of March, 1935, the bitter
wind that swept in from the northwest
brought a blanket of snow. - By mid-
morning drifts choked the highways. The '
gaunt .limbs of the bare trees that clung
to the’ sloping hills. were _mantled ‘with
.. Race plodded back and forth between,
the barns and the dairy shed. By 10:30
‘he had finished his milking and straining
~ of the cream from the milk and was ready
to start for the dairy to deliver the five
gallon cans. -
He called in the rear’ door that he, was
leaving in the truck. and Bernice,: who
was standing over the kitchen: stove pre-
paring the midday meal, waved a cheerful
farewell. She. heard the chug of the
motor as the machine ploughed through
the drifts and swung out on the highway.
..- Then it was still—still as death. Only
the mournful howl of the wind broke the
quiet: Bernice walked to the cellar door,
opened ‘it,,and descended into the dank
interior to: fetch some vegetables she in-
tended to prepare ‘for dinner.
She was bent over the vegetable bin,
with the small bulb overhead casting a
ghostly light in the. cavernous confines of
the large basement, when. she heard a
-soft step behind her. She whirled and
then screamed. ye
The man who stood on the bottom step;
his lips bared in an animal-like snarl,
chuckled softly.
“Go ahead and yell,” he goaded her.
“No one can hear you down here.” He
looked around’ the cellar - furtively.
“Where’s your husband?”
“Get out! Get out!” .
The man’s eyes blazed .with fury. He
lunged from the lower step, seized the
terrified woman in his arms, and show-
ered her with passionate kisses. With
the sudden strength of terror, Bernice
wrenched free of his grasp: and slapped
him cruelly across his face. :
_ “Damn you!” the man raged as he:
staggered back, a thin trickle: of- blood ©
running down his jaw. zi
Blindly he-seized an axe and walked,
toward the woman, who now, cold with
fear, watched his slow advance with the
transfixion that comes with the fore-:
boding that death. is close at hand..
Then the attack: One sickening blow
after another as the man swung the axe.
‘Bernice Race, bleeding, her head cleft
nearly in half, reeled like a drunken
thing, pitched headlong to the cellar floor,
moaned once, and died.
For a moment the killer stood over the
Prostrate form. In his hand he held the .
crimson axe. Then it slipped from his’
fingers and thumped to the floor. He’
turned and mounted the steps. Once in-
side the kitchen he ‘seemed to shake off
the murderous spell that glazed his eyes.”
’ He continued up to the second ‘floor
and rifled the. drawers of a large bureau.
He threw things about in his haste. His
heart raced, his blood pounded ‘with the
‘excitement. That throbbing noise. .... .
.. He sprinted to the window and looked
down into the yard. The noise was: the
chugging of Race’s truck. It had just .
pulled up to the:barn.,. He saw Race get
out, slam the door, and start for the back
entrance of the house. -
Quickly the killer looked around and
14
.
Ba aC Tn er Dy ied SRE Oa
white. The sky overhead was gray and
forbidding.
Spotted a small, pearl-handled revolver.
He snatched it up, stuck it in his pocket,
and hurried from the room. Downstairs,
he hid behind a door in the living room:
“Bee!” 4
It was Race calling to his: wife. The
ex-convict’ repeated his call, and. there
was a deep note of anxiety in his. voice.
Race started for the stairs that led to .
the upper floor. ee
“Where are you going?” a rasping
voice barked. :
“What ...I1... whoateyou? .. .”
That was as far as Harry Race ever
got. He couldn’t even turn around. A
sharp crack. A thin: wisp of smoke that
curled up from. the muzzle of the gun.
Race reeled. backward, fell down the
five stairs he had mounted, and was dead
when he hit the hallway floor. The bullet:
had pierced his heart. ;
With a bound the killer went down the
Stairs, leaped over the fallen form of ‘his
second victim, tossed the gun aside, and
ran out the back door... . '
[RA. BENNETT was like most people
who live in farming communities: He
minded.‘ his--own business and expected.
- everybody else to do the same. That
‘doesn’t mean that: he wasn’t friendly.
Most farmers are friendly, but they don’t
find much time for: back-fence gossip.
They work from dawn to dusk and when
they quit their day’s labors théy’re so
tired they can barely wade through su
per. Then they go to bed.
On this day Bennett scanned the sky.
Wasn’t much a man could do in such
weather, and there would be no further
need, now, for the wagon he’d. borrowed
from Race. He called to:his hired man
who sat in front of the pot-bellied stove
in the. living room of the. Bennett farm-
house, which was a mile distant from the
Race farm. :
4
We
Le
ALORLIDS,
Lf
Wj,
4.
“pr yey,
ete
“Listen, Bill,” he: said to William \
Whitman, his hired hand, “I hate to
chase you out into this storm with
‘that wagon of Race’s, but we'd
better get it back to him today.”
Whitman didn’t like the idea, but
after all who is a hired man to argue
with his boss? .He dressed warmly,
trudged out.to the barn, hitched up the
“horses to the wagon, and started out.
It was mid-afternoon when he finally
arrived at the Race farm. There wasn’t
a sign of life. Everything was white and
bleak ‘and desolate. He stood up in the
wagon, cupped his hands about his mouth
and shouted, ‘“Hal-00-00-00!”
Only the. mournful how! of the wind
answered back. ;
But in a moment:he heard a sound that
alarmed him. The cows in the barn were
bawling with hunger. There must be
something wrong — Harry Race took
better care of his livestock than he did
himself.
Whitman wasted’ no more time. He
turned the team around and headed for
the Bennett farm posthaste, whipping the
’ horses so that they reared and plunged
through the drifts.
He told Bennett he feared Race and
his wife were laid up sick, or that some-
.thing else was wrong. . Bennett hurried
with him back to the Race farm..
Entering the house, they came upon
' Race’s body. Bennett promptly called
the police. While he ‘was. on the tele-
phone, Whitman. went: into the cellar,
“My God, Ira!” he called up in stark
terror. “She’s down here! ‘Been beaten
to death with an axe!” a
Had Harry Race murdered his wife in
".a raging fury? Had he then turned the
pearl-handed revolver on himself?
Sheriff Lester Carlson arrived within a
half-hour accompanied by Elmer Miller,
ace investigator for the office of District
HEADLINE DETECTIVE
|
|
|
od
oe
ky Oh =<
Arrow indicates door where slayer
crept into the New York farm
dwelling to perpetrate his horrible
crime. When officers arrived at
‘the scene, they found no finger-
prints or other clues. .
The life: story of Bernice Kenyon
Race—a story highlighted by tie
strange love pe acriminal—ended
with her corpse spread out in the
cellar where she was so brutally
struck down.
Attorney Edward A. Krieger. A few min-
utes later they were joined by Lieutenant
William George of. the Friendship ‘Bar-
racks of the New York.state police.
The officers contented themselves with
a look around ‘and a discussion of the
probable causes of the deaths. They
didn’t touch the murder weapons or the
bodies, pending the arrival of the coroner.
- Carlson and the others were convinced’
that Race had hacked his wife to death
‘then.shot himself-in a frenzy of remorse.
That’s all there was ‘to it. ..But the:
coroner punctured that theory with one’
swift look at Race’s corpse.
“ “This man was shot in the back!”
- The officers looked at each other.
‘ “He was shot going up the stairs,” the
coroner continued. That’s also against the
suicide theory. The bullet struck him in
the middle of the back and: pierced his
heart.”
’ The pearl-handed vevolver and the ¢
bloody axe: were taken to headquarters.
and thoroughly examined for fingerprints.
There were’ none.. The officer: realized
they would have to start from scratch,
without a single. clew.
In the year Bernice and: Harry Race.
had been married they had lived the lives
of recluses.: They never went out, ‘did
little entertaining. - Race was the only
one who had any contact with the outside
. world, and that was only to ‘drive his
-milk ‘and cream over to the dairy _ for
delivery.
A careful search was made-of the house
for a hint to the slayer’s identity. But
the officers found: nothing.
NOVEMBER, 1940
Sheriff Carlson made a careful check
of the exterior of the house. But: any
footprints the killer might: have left had.
been covered with snow. .Then Carlson
discovered that Race’s car was missing.
The : killer had. fled the double murder
scene in the machine that had belonged
to his victims!
Quickly a description of the truck was
‘flashed over the éight-state. teletype.
One day passed, and then another, and
‘no report came in on the missing vehicle.
“Well, Les,” Miller stated, “it looks
like we’ve got to. manufacture our own
leads in this case.” He gazed out of the
window: of the sheriff’s office at Little
-Valley. Then he turned to face the: sheriff.
“You know,” he said, “I’ve got a hunch,
right or wrong, that one of Race’s ex-
convict: pals is mixed up. in this.”
“You mean,” Carlson guessed, “some
guy that he might have double- crossed
in the pen?”
Miller nodded. “Yes. It’s a hunch :
we should follow, anyway.. We haven’t
got any other kind of a lead to work on.
‘We cah take'a drive up to Auburn and
see who has been released within the last
few weeks,’ find out if he was: known to -°
Race, or had a cell’ near- him, and track
him down.”
Carlson’s brow puckered as he blew a
‘stream: of cigarette, smoke ceiling-ward.
“You ‘might have. something. there, -
Elmer,” he agreed. “You don’t think.
‘this is a straight sex murder? I mean
judging -by those marks the coroner
found on Mrs.:Race’s neck?”
“Any con who had been cooped up for -
eight or ten years would be apt to let his
emotions run away with him,” . Miller.
deduced.
Up.to Auburn the iis officers went and
their hopes were high. The more they
talked about it, the more convinced they
were that they had a corking good lead.
Two. hours’ conversation with the °
warden and a check of the files blew their
_.hopes higher than a kite; No one liad:
been released from Auburn within six -
months. Race had been a lone wolf while-,
doing his term. _He had refused to asso-
ciate with other prisoners for fear he
wouldn’t get his parole. “ If, he had made
any ‘enemies the warden was unaware
of them.
Downcast, Carlson set Miller drove
back to Little Valley. They. were up
‘against a blank. wall and didn’t know
which way to turn.
As the sheriff parked the car outside.
the county’ jail,. Miller let out .a. cry.”
“Wait a minute, Les,” he said. “We've
got to tackle this thing from the word.go.
The only outsidé contact Race had with
_ anyone around here-was with the manager :.
of the dairy where he delivered his milk.
He might. have told. the manager some-
thing. Maybe he feared. this man who.
killed him and_ his’ wife and. remarked
on it. -Let’s take a ride over there.” - .
At the dairy the sleuths went into: the
-manager’s office. .
“Any stranger éver ride over. here with
Race that you know of?” Miller asked.
‘The manager stared at the ceiling
thoughtfully. “Yes, I think Race came
over here with a man once some time
ago. ‘I didn’t pay much -attention. to
the fellow. Wouldn’t know him if I ever
saw him again.”
“Anybody else around here that would
know him?” Carlson asked anxiously.
- “Maybe the man on the loading plat-
form had a better look at him than I.
did,” the manager said. “Go out and
‘talk to him.”
The officers located the man on the
loading platform and asked him if he
remembered the stranger who had driven
up with Harry Race about three weeks
prior to the double murder.
The dairy employe shrugged. ‘I don’t
remember much about him. He didn’t
get out of the car.”
“Think, man! Think!” Miller urged.
“We're trying to solve two murders, One
recollection on your part’ might solve the
‘whole thing. Was there anything about
that man that you remember distinctly?”
“I tell you,” the dairyman smiled, “I
don’t remember the guy. He sat. in the
car and only spoke once.”
“What did he.say?” Miller urged.
“He asked Race for a cigarette.”
“What else did he do while he was
here?” Miller went on.
“He only asked Race for a cigarette.
-Race was standing here next. to the load-
ing platform near his car. He gave the
guy a cigarette.”
Suddenly the prs San s face blanched,
and ‘swallowing hard, he. looked from
Miller to Carlson.
“What’s the. matter?” Carlson asked.
quickly,
“I just happened to remember ‘some-
thing. . When Race offered him a cigar-
ette from his pack, the guy had to take’
off his glove to get’ the butt out and’.
“All right, -what about . it?” * Miller
prompted eagerly,
The dairyman gulped. « “TI. anucilieg
that he had a tattoo on the back of his
hand: It said. .
The employe ‘snapped his fingers as if
to refresh his memory. Miller and Carl-’
.son waited in tense. ‘silence, hot daring to
speak for fear of breaking: the man’s
‘train’ of. thought,
“I. got it!” the man cried, his eyes
alight. . “He .had. the words ‘True Love’
tattooed on the back-of his hand!”
“ ‘True Love’” eh?” Miller said, let-
ting his breath out with a sigh of relief.
“Thanks, brother.”
CARLSON and’: ‘Miller could delet
contain themselves as they drove at
"perilous speed back to the sheriff's ‘office.
Miller reached: the telephone first. He
called ‘Auburn prison and asked that they
go through: their files, back one year if
necessary to find a convict who had been
released: or . paroled ‘who had the’ words
“True Love” tattooed on the back of his
right hand.
Then they paced the floor and waited.
‘The hours dragged by, and the ashtrays
on Carlson’s desk were piled high with
cigar and cigarette butts when the phone
finally © rang. . Carlson lunged for. the
receiver like a drowning man teaching
for the proverbial straw.
“Yes?” he snapped. ‘Any luck?”
“Nothing here,” the deputy: warden at
Auburn said. “I’m sorry, Sheriff, but,
say; you might try Clinton prison, We
have.a lot of men‘ transferred over there.
Maybe’ they’ll have a guy on file who
answers that: description.”
Carlson put a (Continued on page 47)
15
_ TATTOOED
(Continued from page 15)
call through’ to Clinton prison. Again there
was a long wait. But at last the message’
came that instantly changes, the complection
of the investigation.
Miller wrote feverishly as the deputy at’
Clinton gave him the details from the card
index file on the man with. the tattoo on the
back of his right hand. Here’s what Miller
wrote: ,
“Alfred Lindsay, alias Arthur Flynn, born
in- Lowell, Massachusetts. Lives with sister
in New Rochelle. Has words ‘True Love’
tattooed on back of right hand. Released
Clinton prison August, 1934, sixth day.”
“That’s our man!” Miller cried.
The investigators immediately communi-
cated with police in New Rochelle, who in
turn informed them that Lindsay had rented
a room in New York and was living with his
brother who was an ex-convict out on parole.
Miller then contacted the New York City
police, who told him that they suspected
Lindsay’s brother of having been implicated
in a theater box office hold up on March 11,
1935, four days after the double murders.
The photos and fingerprints of Alfred
Lindsay were forwarded from. the prison to
the New York City police department, and
detectives were assigned to track him down.
Still another group of detectives hunted his
brother,
Those on the trail‘of the brother learned
that they just missed Alfred Lindsay himself °
by minutes when they crashed in the door
of a cheap West Side. rooming house where
both men had been hiding out.
Then, on the sixth day ‘of the hunt, the
inexorable forces of the law caught up with
Alfred Lindsay. He walked out of a Seventh
Avenue restaurant straight into the waiting
arms of three detectives who had picked up
his trail a half-hour before.
Lindsay stoutly denied his identity, but
had to admit it when he was fingerprinted
and photographed at police headquarters. On
March 13 he was taken’ up to Cattaraugus
' County for questioning in the double mur-
der. He held out for four long hours under
a hammering of questions from all sides.
Then he broke. He confessed to the crime.
His story was that he and Race had quar-
relled over a division of the spoils from a
robbery many years before. He had heard
through the prison grapevine that Race was
married to “a wealthy woman” and decided
to go and borrow money from his former
pal. :
“When I went down into the cellar, think-
ing Harry was down there,” he confessed,
“I saw this woman. She picked up an axe
and charged at me. I grabbed the axe and
we struggled all over the cellar. Finally she
struck me with the blunt end. I must have
gone nuts. I grabbed the axe away from her
and let her have it.”
Lindsay related that he then went upstairs
looking for money he believed would be hid-
den in a bureau drawer and that Race had
come back home, that they had struggled
on the stairs, that Race had pulled a gun, |,
that he had wrested it away from the ex-
convict, and shot him in his mad desire to
escape. '
The officers knew better. There wasn’t a
sign of a struggle in the cellar or in the hall-
way. There were no marks on the dirt-laden
cellar floor. Mrs. Race’s head’ had nearly, been
hacked from her body by repeated axe blows.
Race had been shot in the back. The State
was ready to prove that.
Prove it they did. Four months later, on
August 29, after an appeal for clemency to
Governor Lehman failed to alter the verdict
of the jury—who had found Lindsay guilty
of murder in the first degree—the ex-con
walked through the little green door at
Sing Sing.
The current whined . . . the lights dimmed
. .. a Small wisp of smoke curled up from
the black hood that crested the gleaming,
shaved skull of the condemned man... and
Lindsay was dead. }
The final chapter of Bernice Kenyon’s
. book was written—not by her pen, but by
the mighty surge of electricity that kills men
who transgress.
CONFESS HITCH-HIKE SLAYING
This dramatic scene was enacted near Berrien Springs, Michigan, when Mervin
Cagle and Richard Klowetter led police to the spot where they hid body of
Walter Ebbling, missing New York theater manager. The youths (second and
third from left) said the killing occurred during a holdup.
NOVEMBER, 1940
UFFERERS an: ;
RUM
on 0 8
D i bs qe
Prove it rself no matter
& q how long you have suffered
or wha’ Res have tried.
Beautiful book on Pso-
riasis and Dermoil with
4 amazing true photo-
graphic p. of re
Art’) sults also FREE.
Parcherutate, cones, EMI,
lor the stubborn, ugly,
embarrassing pdt op 7 PAK On
disease Tres Neo ¥50' ere °
sleet gs Dermoiil, -
Thousands do for scaly we
fot on body or scalp. .
rateful users, often af-
ter tb ae of sultering, ree em ry
port the scales haye
red patches gradually disa ae
thrill of
peared an they (¢ joyed tl
2 weeks or money is refunded without question, Generous
trial bottle sent FRE to those who send tnt Des is
e
oratories, Box 547,
Detroit, Mich.
FALSE
TEETH
As Low As $7.95
Per Plate. DENTAL
PLATES madeinour
own laboratory from YOUR Personal impression. WORK-
MANSHIP and MATERIAL GUARANTEED or PURCHASE
PRICE refunded. hh take this risk on our 60-day trial offer.
N
Do Not SEND ANY MONEY Mai!vost card for FREE
material and catalog of
our LOW PRICES, DON’T PUT IT OF F—Write us {
SUPERVISED BY A DENTIST
BRIGHTON-THOMAS Dental Laboratory (Inc.)
Dept. 341 6217 S. Halsted Street, Chicago, Ii.
Amaniag. Meu, Pozilar
PICTURE RING
ANY PHOTO OR RE
laced, pe on
pent a pean ee on Se
eg ea
an - +:
Gin Gest essere tee etre, _
it LIP. a how with strip. yee 3
Sees od so ends moet al finger eias: Bay post-
man only , plus few centa Doatage. ito returned
a fi deli: |. Ord
BictURE RING CO. DeptX-108 Cincinnatl, O
HI-STANDARD AUTOMATIC
-22 caliber Model ‘‘B’’ for jong.
rifle cartridges, ‘C’’ for .2
‘short cartridges.
Darrel. Choice csesseseseee!
H. & R, 922" .22 caliber 6” bar-
rel, 9 shot target revolver ....$9.45
etc.
_P, HUDSON SPORTING GOODS CO., 52 Warren St, WN. Y. 6.
é Your Tuition
Learn by Doing, in 12 weeks, in big
of Coyne—Not
pe aioe wile Ramage Pees |
respondence. Earn while learning. Free em-
loyment service after graduation, Write forde-
) talis of ny Pay after Graduation Plan and Free book.
COYNE ELECTRICAL SCHOOL, Dept. 80-24,
500 South Paulina Street = «a Chicago, Illinois
NVENTIONS WANTED
successfully sell inventions; patented’
phe Cpontented. Write us, if you have a
d practical, useful idea for sale. CHAR-
‘TERED INSTITUTE, Dept. 69, Washington, D. C.
Getting Up Nights
Makes Many Feel Old
Do you feel older than you are or suffer from Get-
ting Up Nights, Backache, Nervousness, Leg Pains, Diz-.
ziness, Swollen pp hr a ‘ains, ‘Burning,
nty or frequen ASSAKES 50,
your ‘Kidneys are vital to your health and that these
symptoms may be due to non-organic and non-systemic
Kidney and Bladder troubles—in such cases CYSTEX
a physician’s prescription) usually gives prompt and
joyous relief by helping the Kidneys flush out poisonous
excess acids and wastes. You have everything to gain
and nothing ‘to lose in trying Cystex, An iron-clad
guarantee wrapped around each package assures a
refund oF your ceed ne igs of empty me 2
uw satisfie ion” e chances on an:
—— ” Kidney medicine that is not
uaranteed. Don’t delay. Get
stex Cystex (Siss-tex) from your
druggist today, Only 35c, The
Welps Flush Kidneys guarantee protects you.
47
LINDSEY, Alfre J hi
9 * oh. 1 ed ey white 3 e] eC Ni ( Ving de de
lec. NY (Cattaraugus) August 29, 1935
BUSl cy 17)
4
HE
that
kete
State. No
roads pile
“
a
am f\ Dm TRY SOUTTICUr
YLANLLULNG ETECTIVE A i
Jk Ne VE 9 April 9 4 948 e
lived in that room there, just off the living room. I don’t know
where they are now. It looks as if all their stuff is gone and
they must have moved out while I was away tonight.”
Rugama could tell the officers little more. He did not know
of any enemies the slain man might have had and he could think
of no possible motive for the murder. A hasty check revealed
that no property had been disturbed and the victim had not been
robbed. It was possible, the officers thought, that the missing
roomer and his wife might have been the caererers: But this
did not seem likely on the surface.
There was little more to be done at the “rooming house” for
the time being. The detectives intended to return the following
day for a detailed search of the place but they had slight hopes of
finding anything helpful. Rugama seemed to be the only key
they had to the mystery and they believed they had exhausted
his knowledge of the crime. However, since he
was a foreigner and since the officers did not want
him to drift out of sight before they could wind up
the investigation, they decided to hold him as a
material witness. Rugama had no objection and
even appeared relieved as he accompanied the police
back to the station., Was it possible, the officers
wondered, that this murder was a case of mistaken
identity ? Had a killer been after Rugama and slain
his friend by mistake ? :
“Tt’s a minor case,” Smith said, “but it’s still
murder and it is up to us to crack it. We'll start
with a detailed statement from Rugama. But now
let’s go back to the precinct and see if there is any
word yet on those bandits who got Goodwin.’
,
HAT was the feeling of the officers in every precinct in Man-
. hattan that night. Other duties required their time and atten-
tion but their inner interests were with the Goodwin case. Every
uniformed and plain-clothes man in the city hoped that he would
get a chance at the murderous bandits who had shot down their
fellow officer. The gunmen were a menace to the community
now, a deadly menace. With one murder already charged against
them they would not hesitate to take other lives.
Patrolman Goodwin had been on his way to work when he
was slain just before 11 p. m. He had stopped at the Louis
Krasnow drugstore on 169th street where the proprietor was
an old friend. Goodwin was due at the Wadsworth avenue
station at midnight but he had stopped to visit and listen to
the radio in the small corner back of the prescription counter.
The officer, the druggist, a resident of the neighborhood and
the soda clerk were intent upon a broadcast of the wrestling
matches. The front door had creaked open and the druggist
36
Veteran of 22 years’ service on the’ police force, Detective
Johnson, right, was called into a double murder investigation’ when
other officers met a stalemate in their search for the mysterious bandit
trio who killed a patrolman in the drugstore above,
rthur
had turned reluctantly from the radio to wait on the customer.
There was not one customer, but three. One was standing
near the door, looking outside. Another stood by the counter
upon which rested the cash register. The third stared coldly
at the druggist.
“What can I do for you?” the druggist asked pleasantly.
Without answering, the third customer stalked forward slowly.
Suddenly the man’s hand dipped into an overcoat pocket and
emerged with a heavy, gleaming pistol.
Not a word was spoken. Involuntarily the druggist raised his
hands above his head and stepped backward. Beyond the man
with the gun, another member of the trio immediately stepped
to the cash register and removed the $100 reposing there.
The druggist retreated into the prescription compartment, his
TPO pe
LOPEZ, Antonio, His, elec. NY@ (New York) May 25, 1933
’ ea
| if Patrolman James R. Goodwin, above, right, was shot down (arrow) in the prescription compartment
| of a New York City drugstore by three silent bandits who left no clue to their identity in a daring |
| closing-hour raid that launched a long and thrilling manhunt. : |
aw Miguel Rug: |
|
|
|
police with <
a sleeping
Harlem roor
pe derous gang
a center, righ
a. prisoners e!
BANDIT SLAYERS | an
By CHARLES BOSWELL
fe
SL
: Fa
os
STARTLING ty
CTIVE, August,
1940
HE silence was heavy and uncom- ~ desk, The man was frantic and his face tained many rooms and these were rented ago,” the
fortable in New York’s East 104th was pale from obvious fear. _. to other people. mate that
street police station about 1 a. m., “My friend,” the visitor gasped ex- Five minutes before he entered the po- tween ele
the morning of Feb. 16, 1932. .Grim-faced’ citedly, “he’s dead! ! He’s murdered !”’ ‘ lice station, Rugama said, he had returned the expr:
| officers went about their routine duties ‘in The officers attempted to quiet the man home and found Romagueras dead in bed, would sa
the tense atmosphere present in all police and get his story. He obviously was a the obvious victim of a deliberate mur- and died
\ headquarters when a policeman has been _ foreigner and wild reports from the large _derer. in the st:
killed in action. -and excitable foreign element in that part Accompanied by Rugama the detectives a nerve ¢
t Only two and a half hours usr at of the Harlem area were not uncommon. hurried to the East 113th street address The b
! West 169th street and Amsterdam avenue Usually the reports were without founda- _—and were led to a dingy fifth floor apart- range a!
| in the Washington Heights section, Pa-. tion. The police were in no mood to — ment which had been separated into eight gueras’ |
trolman James R. Goodwin had been shot worry about petty quarrels that night but tiny rooms by flimsy partitions. In the Jaye Ul
to death by a trio of bandits who had es- something in’ this str anger’s manner middle compartment which seemed to be beneath.
caped into the night. Washington Heights ‘caused them to wonder. That fear of his used as a communal living room, the knife so
was miles from the 104th street precinct was genuine enough. | officers found the body of a man stretched tive Qui
house, but every policeman on duty Detectives Jeremiah F. Smithand Wil- | out‘on a couch. A wide crimson stain slug. T
throughout Manhattan had learned of the liam J. Quaine led hini aside and finally spread over the shirt front in an area Detec
murder. Every officer was working with | succeeded in obtaining a coherent story. . above the man’s-stomach. * sor the: |
increased alertness, conscious that three. ‘The. mari identified himself as Miguel An assistant medical examiner arrived the apa:
vicious killers were loose in the city. ‘ Rugama.:.He:and Jose Hortal Roma-. within a few minutes. After a brief ex- crowdi!
Suddenly the doors of the 104th street | gueras aperated a rooming house on East amination, the doctor turned to the of- by the
station were flung open and a small, 113th street, Rugama explained. They ‘ficers. suing e€
heavy-set man rushed to the sergeant’s had rented a large apartment which con- “This man died about an hour or two The :
34 : eee STARTLING DETECTIVE ADVE
ompartment
In a daring
's and these were rented
‘fore he entered the po-
na said, he had returned
omagueras dead in bed,
1 of a deliberate mur-
Rugama the detectives
it 113th street address
lingy fifth floor apart-
“n separated into eight
'Sy Partitions. In the
it which seemed to be
nal living room, the
ody of a man stretched
\ wide crimson stain
urt front in an area
mach,
ical examiner arrived
-s. After a brief ex-
Or turned to the of-
bout an hour or two
LING DETECTIVE
ra
and
Miguel Rugama, above, fled to the
police with an astounding story bt
a sleeping corpse in a &tranpe
Harlem rooming house. -THe mur-
derous gang leader and trig erman,
center, right, is shown with otHer
prisoners en route to Sing Sirg.
e
ago,” the examiner said. “I would esti-
mate that death occurred sometime be-
tween eleven-thirty and mitnigHt. From
the expression of repose on the face I
would say that he was shot in his sleep
and died instantly. Occasionally a slug
in the stomach will do thdt when it hits
a nerve center.”
The bullet had been fired from close
range and had passed t rough Roma-"
gueras’ body and the couch on which he
lay. The slug was burietl in the floor
beneath. Prying carefully with a pen
knife so as not to injure the ledd, Detec-
tive Quaine succeeded in éxtridating the
slug. The bullet was .38 calibet.
Detective Smith questioned the janitor
of the building and the other tenants of
the apartment, many of whom Were now
crowding the fifth floor hall, hwakened
by the arrival of the polite arid: the en-
suing excitement of the ihvestlgation.
The questioning was disappointing for
ADVENTURES
no one could be found who would admit
having heard a shot fired. No one had
noticed anything unusual during the eve-
ning. There was no witness here who
could or would be of any assistance in the
- investigation.
The officers entered a room adjoining
that where the corpse still lay. Rugama
was waiting for them and they hoped to
obtain additional details about events
leading up to the shooting and possibly
some clue to the identity.of the murderer.
Rugama was still excited but now the
man’s face definitely reflected acute fear.
“Where were you this evening ?” Smith
asked.
“I went to the wrestling matches,”
Rugama_ replied, “down at Madison
Square Garden. Then I stopped in to see
a girl, Maria Luisa Rodriguez, about
eleven o’clock. I stayed there until after
one o’clock and then came home, just be-
fore I went to the police station.”
The detectives asked about the girl and
Rugama explained that she formerly had
“owned” the “rooming house” which he
and Romagueras had been operating.
They bought the “business” from the
woman only two weeks before.
The officers exchanged glances. From
the design of the eight-room apartment,
it was obvious that it had been used as an
assignation house.
“What was this business you bought ?”
the detectives asked.
“T mean the rooming house,” Rugama
said. “We, Romagueras and I, did not
know much about it. We just took over
a week ago and had only two roomers but
we hoped to get more. We used to work
up in White Plains together.”
“Who were your two roomers and
where are they?”
“I don’t know,” the man answered.
“We knew them only as Alice and Pete.
They said they were married and they
35
° wait on the customer.
“ee. One was standing
°r stood by the counter
The third stared coldly
t asked pleasantly.
stalked forward slowly.
n overcoat pocket and
the druggist raised his
yard. Beyond the man
o immediately stepped
10 reposing there.
otion compartment, his
hands still raised. The gunman followed. Turning away from
the radio, Patrolman Goodwin took one quick glance and then
Sparkling cheatin, AL teached quickly beneath his coat. His motion was lightning
tings on the cab above
proved a vital clue in the
_ twin investigations. Police
sought the man known as
“Big Argentine,” left, for
an answer to the baffling
_ Tiddle. Detective Aristides
Ramos, below, helped
crack the case.
fy
fast, but not fast enough. The gunman fired three times and
missed. Then just as Goodwin leveled his gun and squeezed
the trigger, the bandit fired the fourth time,
Goodwin’s body jerked backward. A dark hole appeared in
his forehead. His knees crumpled under him and he pitched to
the floor. The bandits whirled and fled.
Stunned by the dramatic swiftness of the affair, the three
friends of the policeman were unable to move for a monient.
Then an instant later one gave chase, reaching the door only to
see the bandits entering a cab a block way. The man yelled
but to no avail. The cab started swiftly and disappeared.
The soda clerk quickly called a doctor and then the police.
The druggist dropped to his knees beside the officer but realized
almost immediately that nothing he or a doctor could do would be
of any help. Goodwin already was dead. The bandit’s bullet had
caught him squarely between the eyes.
WO blocks away Patrolman Morgan Crowe, the man Goodwin
was to have relieved an hour later, heard the shot and was running
to the drugstore. A few minutes later he was joined by Capt. of De-
tectives John L. Lagarenne and his assistant, Detective Arthur M.
Horey, both of the Wadsworth district.
Gathering a hurried description of the bandits, Horey telephoned
headquarters to order a broadcast issued for the killers. Capt.
Lagarenne put rapid questions to the witnesses.
“All three of the men were dark,” the druggist said. “They were
fairly small men.”
The astonishing thing td the police was the fact that not a word had
been spoken by anyone after the druggist first asked if he could serve
the trio. The witnesses themselves marveled at this now as they re-
called it. There had been no command, no hoarse shout warning that
this was robbery, nothing. Not one word had been said until after
the bandits had shot down the patrolman and fled into the street.
» Within an hour the metlical examiner appeared with the technical
experts of the police department. Photographers and fingerprint men
went to work industriously. The fingerprint report, however, was
discouraging. Apparently the thugs had left no print which would be
of any value.
A canvass of the entire neighborhood failed to produce a single
witness in addition to those who had been in the store. No resident
had seen the bandits arrive or leave the scene. This was-a residential
section and there were few: persons oh the street at that time of night.
Shortly after 1 a. m., at approxithately the same time as Miguel
Rugama was reporting the murder at the 104th street precinct house,
a scouting radio car discovered an abandoned taxicab on 192nd street
near Broadway. In the belief that this might have been the car used
by: the bandits in the getaway, the radio patrolmen notified Capt.
Lagarenne and he hurried to the spot. But meanwhile the driver of the
[Continued on page 66]
37
MARDAVI
» Morris, wh
Sy, wh, elec. N
Y (NY) March
The body of HARRY VANCE MAXWELL being re-
moved from the car in which he was slain.
ae
sidy, 4
was a mo
left short
wealthy—an °&* | Buick
IY wmillion dollar B. ae: St
his blon«
parked |
The
asleep. "
traffic a
lights 0)
night.
the top
to face
Sudd
open. |
two ro
—one
El Morocco at Ma
His com unit
94-year-old Mary Jan : jaune
escort
right
der,
the si
COMPLETE DETEC
TE DETECTIVE, September, 1 ,
otember, 1941 |
‘wo others on Easter morning.
in charge of the investigation
were Chief of the Homicide Bureau,
Jacob J. Rosenblum, matchless
prosecutor attached to the office of
District Attorney Thomas E. Dewey,
Captain Edward Mullins, head of
New York City’s famous Homicide
Squad; Deputy Inspector Patrick
Kenny, head of the Fourth Detec-
tive Squad, and Detective Lieuten-
ant Vincent Kiernan, head of the
detectives in the 19th Precinct.
While the men from the police
technical laboratories went over the
car for fingerprints, Captain Mullins
questioned the girl. Despite her
harrowing experience, she had her
emotions under firm control. She
explained that she had no oppor-
tunity to see the features of the
man who killed Maxwell. In fact she
could give absolutely no lead, be-
yond saying somewhat vaguely
that he was roughly dressed, and
that the man, who had opened the
door on her side of the car, was
rather short.
“Does the Buick belong to Mr.
Maxwell?” Captain Mullins asked.
‘No, sir,” the model replied.
“Is it yours?”
“Noise,”
“Whose is it?”
Miss Cassidy explained that it was
30
Two men whose names
strike terror in the hearts
of New York mobsters:
CAPTAIN EDWARD MUL-
LINS, of the Homicide
Squad (left), and District
Attorney Thomas €E.
3 “"s ace assistant
Pies
owned by a Mr. Harrison who was
a friend of hers. The latter, when
he went to Florida, gave her the use
of the automobile.
“Where is Mr. Harrison now?”
Lieutenant Kiernan asked.
“So far as I know he is still in
Florida.”
Under further questioning the girl
said that she hadn’t noticed whether
there were any cars trailing them
when they drove.away from the El
Morocco. She saw nothing sus-
picious. The first intimation she had
of anything being wrong was when
the doors were yanked violently
open.
In most murder cases the motive
for the crime is obvious from the
manner in which it has been com-
mitted. In this case, however, it
did not hold true. It might have been
robbery, although no attempt was
made to search the couple for valu-
ables. Then again, it might have
been a dozen other things.
Without a single clue to work on,
the police brought the pretty model
down to the Police Academy Build-
ing where the Rogues’ Gallery files
are kept and she began the long,
patient hunt through the files in an
effort to select the photograph of
the man who appeared on her side
of the car.
How could this man
have been killed by a
pistol shot that was
as silent as the
death it brought him?
Over in headquarters, Inspector
Joseph Donovan set his corps of
B.C.I. men working on the modus
operandi file. In this is tabulated
all crimes according to manner of
commission.
All through the city, officers
worked feverishly on the scant ma-
terial they had at hand for experi-
ence showed that this was the type
of case that is either cracked quickly
or is destined to remain unsolved.
Inspector Donovan’s men found a
crime that had all the earmarks of
the Maxwell case with the single
exception that it had not ended in a
homicide. On April 6th, Harold
Frazer and Miss Muriel Arnoff had
been held up and robbed by two
armed assailants. One being short
and the other tall. Their manner
of operation coincided with that of
the killers.
On that occasion, Detectives
James McDonnell and Raymond
McGrath of the West 68th Street
Station House had arrested a man
named Vincent Morgano, but they
later released him when the victims
failed to identify him. Because
there was a similarity in these
crimes, and because Morgano had
already been suspected, Captain
Mullins ordered Morgano to be
brought in for further questioning.
peste aiken Bote
Fe ok oie
g Fs :
Re
ae
a.
4
Detecti:
Squad,
of the ;
“squeal
ology f
tectives
the Hon
Joe Mo
It was
a hayst
no trace
at his la
moved a
leaving ;
There
at this
with th.
photogra
lice head
Sidy cou
make ary
theless tl}
search.
[; HECK
sour
gano hac
company
Morris M
_address f
sion and
ing were
tenement
VINCE
GANO:
picked |
police
anxious °
pal, an
IME after time, I have argued in
this space against the namby-
pamby handling of hardened crim-
inals who are dragged in by hard-working
police only to be turned loose again with
the blessings of some parole body,
Then just when I’m about ready to give
up in disgust, something happens that
again makes me’see red. The latest out-
rage along this line was the brutal murder
in New York City of Harry V. Maxwell,
41-year-old advertising executive. Max-
well was shot without warning as he sat:
in a car with Mary Jane Cassidy, blond
model, by one of two quick-trigger
bandits.
New York detectives went right to.
work on this case in their usual efficient
manner, In fact, they practically set a
record for solving this type of crime by
| yanking ‘in a 23-year-old pock-marked
killer within three hours of the shooting.
' This sullen rat, Morris Mardavich,
confessed the killing with the crack, “He
put up a fight so I let him have it.” It
remains to be seen how tough Mardavich
is when he faces the electric chair at Sing
Sing.
What I want to know is what was
Mardavich doing, cruising the streets of
New York in a fine automobile, armed to
the teeth and looking for robbery victims ?
The record showed that police had
brought him in five times since he was,
convicted of larceny at the age of 16. If*
he wasn’t being arrested for larceny, it
was burglary. Yet, each time, it was a
light sentence with quick parole for this
dirty killer.
Now this system of parole has had its
way. A prominent citizen lies dead. His
slayer hasn% even the grace of remorse.
“T figured I had as much right as any-
body else to swell things,” is his explana-
tion. He’s got more right than anybody
else I can think of right now to a cell in
the death house, where, at least, parole
isn’t the order of the day.
No Temporary Insanity—
Y THANKS to Dr. Charles A.
Rymer of Denver, Colo., for deal-
ing a telling blow to the “temporary
insanity” racket in murder trials. This
type of hocus-pocus has been going. on
entirely teo long but with enough help
from experts like Dr. Rymer our courts «
‘may yet see the light.
To put it simply, Dr. Rymer, address-
ing the American Psychiatric Associa-
tion meeting in Richmond, Va., declared
that temporary insanity, so commonly
82
pleaded as a defense for murder, “is a
non-existent condition arising from a
defect in the law.”
“The law,” Dr. Rymer explained, “
defective in permitting such a question-
able defense to be made, The plea is being
used in any murder case lacking a better
defense.
“Such devices are casting disrepute on
both the legal and medical - professions,
There is no medical basis which would
justify the belief that temporary insanity
could exist for a few brief moments dur-
ing the murder, yet be preceded by highly
co-ordinated actions leading to the crime,
“Why,” he asked, “should the tempo-
rarily insane person always shoot and
kill? Why shouldn’t he stand on his head,
instead ?”
Dr. Rymer went on to say that tempo-
rary rage, anger and. heat of passion
should not be confused with irresistible
impulse. Claims that “everything went
blank” should be taken, he added, with a
large grain of salt.
The. doctor is absolutely right. Too
many hot-tempered killers have been get-
ting off easy for too long with this kind |
of phony defense. It’s high time this
_ legal loophole was permanently plugged.
Prisoners In Defense—
a OpGH they’re very much “all
in,” prisoners of the Atlanta Fed-
eral penitentiary are going “all out” for
national defense. As their contribution to
the national preparedness program, the
more than 1,000 industrial workers in the
institution are going to spend more time
in the spinning mills in-order that two
eight-hour shifts daily may step up the
output for the Army and Navy.
Warden Joseph Sanford, we hear, was
loudly applauded by the prisoners when
he outlined the new plan and asked their
cooperation as “Americans.” He told the
inmates :
“The Army and Navy and other de-
fense forces need the vital materials we
manufacture here. ‘I know and feel that
you will work as hard and harder for
your country than more fortunate citizens
do. You men know and know only too
well what the loss of freedom means, It
isn’t just a mere, trite phrase to you men
- but a searing reality.
“Yet I know that in your hearts you
are fully aware that you—men tempo-
rarily in prison—have just as much at
stake as those beyond these walls and will
do your share tohelp preserve the nation
in the perilous days ahead,”
Naturally, increases in pay are being
granted. Working schedules are so ar-
ranged that no prisoner will have to sacri-
fice his school, library or recreational
periods,
To me this is a heartening demonstra-
tion of patriotism on the part of men who
are still willing to work for the land of
the free although they have forfeited
temporarily their own right to freedom,
Just Completely Wrong—
peeak is something fascinating about
a 100 per cent anything, be it a
"hero or a bum. Recently, some of the
boys and I were chewing the rag about
old times and we got on the subject of a
fellow we agreed was probably the most
complete phony of our acquaintance.
His name was Edward Brisbane and
he operated around Chicago back about
‘the time of the last war. He had a smooth
way about him that roused friendly sym-
pathy in the unwary but he just couldn’t
force himself to make an honest living.
He was always helping himself.to the
money of other pegple with the inevitable
result that he landed in prison.
Well, when this bird got out, he made
loud statements about how he was going
to turn over another new leaf and make
good. He was so convincing that every-
-one started to help him. He was given a
job in a big plant and encouraged. This
went on for three years and he apparently
was going over in a big way.
They even made him the hero of a
series of newspaper articles entitled,
“Beating Back,” the story of a parolee’s
struggle to win a decent place in society.
That series ended abruptly one night
when for no reason at all this rat went
out, stuck up William Mills, a theater
manager, and shot him to death.
They hadn’t much more than landed
him in jail when they discovered that he
had been embezzling the funds of the
plant where he worked.
They hanged him at the Cook county
jail. Just before the trap was sprung,
Brisbane took a cigar out of his mouth
. and said:
“T am opposed to this horrible form of
murder by the state.”
Top that one about a wrongo from the
word go—if you can.
Ve Ou.
LIE P Ludw ig 9
White, elec, WM (Kings), 8/2/1928... .cccccccccccccsccees
~Who Hacked These Women Into
Little Pieces?
By Julian Victor
Special Investigator for
ACTUAL DETECTIVE STORIES
of Women in Crime
the Old Slip Station was weaving
in_and out of the bushes in New
York City’s Battery Park, routing out
sleeping hoboes, when he stumbled
upon the strange brown paper package,
It was jammed between a clump of.
shrubbery and a subway ventilator,
Wondering what it contained, he
kicked it, and as he did so the wrap-
ping came apart, releasing a peculiar
musty odor.
He bent over and saw a pair of
khaki trousers with snap buttons,
There was nothing unusual about such
a find, for the park was frequented by
derelicts and sailors from the beach,
any one of whom might want to stow
away a package for safe-keeping. But
when Kudener. looked further, his
scalp tingled. ;
From the inside of the trousers pro-
truded mutilated human legs! ©
Kudener ‘tightened his grip on his
nightstick,’ rapped it sharply on the
pavement. . Carrying on a similar pa-
trol a hundred yards away, Patrolman
George Hughes heard ‘the raps ‘and
came running up to Kudener’on the
double-quick. 4 :
Kudener pointed to the package.
“Notify Headquarters,” he said.
Hughes ‘took one look, made’ a wry
face and raced for a telephone in the
barge office near by.
Five minutes later, from West Twen-
tieth Street Headquarters of the Homi-
cide Squad, a long black sedan sped
downtown... Inside’ were Inspector
Arthur Carey, veteran of three-score
murder investigations, and his assis-
Pie Oia ai William Kudener of
Miss Sarah E. Brownell: Her caretaker
couldn’t talk English or clean drains
The bundle examined by Doctor Romeo W. Auerbach they took a strip of red-and-white |
and a patrolman, above, contained gruesome clews simi- ‘checked blanket, which was wrapped
lar to those found in drain rubbish by the workmen below 4 around a twelve-inch length of a hu-
, man leg, cut at the ankle and knee.
tants, Detectives Stephen Donahue and From the left trouser leg came an old
Harry Sennft. It was then 2:30 a.m. laundry bag with a faded red design,
on July 9, 1927, and the streets of low- and a sixteen-inch length of leg.
er New York were deserted. The car For the moment the Inspector was
roared through the Bhostly, high- more interested in the appearance of
walled canyons of the financial district, the trousers. Stained with dirt and
down Broadway past Trinity Church oil, they looked as though they had
and the Customs House until at last it never been washed. He held them up
emerged into the flat, riverfront ex- and made a mental picture of the size
panse of Battery Park. é of the man who could wear them. He
Inspector Carey caught the blink of realized from the waist and cuff
flashlights at the lower end of the measurements that the man must be
Park. “Stop at the barge office,” he short and stocky. Aside from this the
told the driver, trousers told him little. They were
of common make with yellow snap
T= Inspector sprang from the car buttons bearing no identifying marks.
as it was rolling to a stop, and his Carey went through the pockets. In
men followed suit. As he approached the \back, his fingers encountered two
the officers, he saw Detective Edward strips of leather: When he took them
Kalbfleisch of the First Squad, which out he saw that they were two fingers
had arrived a few minutes before from cut from a suede glove. Who once
the station house five blocks away. had used them? Certainly they were
“What have we got?” asked Carey made to fit a woman’s tapering hand,
as the detective came to greet him. Carey shivered involuntarily.
. Kalbfleisch shrugged, nodded toward Were the glove parts an eerie hint
the brown paper parcel. “Maybe an that more portions of the mutilated
axe job,” he said. body were yet to be discovered?
Carey nodded. “Okay—we'll have a “This thing looks like a headache,”
look,” : he said. “This spot is so close to the
Under Carey’s. direction the officers ferry and subway that any one of two
sorted out the items that made up the thousand people could have dropped
package. ' the package here. Yet it couldn’t hive
From the right leg of the trousers been put here very long ago, for it was
ADS
1939.00 ccece
a — IOMEN TN CRIME pe He BER
} J U I DE 1a CTI V ‘ plOnsLs mo Us W UIE IN LIN CRIME r no TE ADIL yg
fa fa ded te es dod
-
This drain, near No. 28 Prospect Place, Brooklyn,
yielded clews that were of vital importance in the in-
vestigation into the weird Jig-saw puzzle murder case
A low whistle escaped the Inspector.
He thought of the glove fingers, but
said nothing at the moment. Quickly
the Medical Examiner showed how the
smooth skin and the musculature of
the calf indicated female origin.
“She was a well-preserved’ woman,
too, because there are no small veins
and the flesh is very firm.”
“How long ago did she die?”
The Doctor frowned. “Anywhere
from three to ten days ago,” he said,
looking closely at the fragments. Then
he turned to Carey. -“There’s ‘not
much here,” he said. “But I can tell
you this much: Whoever cut those
joints used terrific force, because the
bones were severed with one blow.”
Inspector’ Carey was grim-faced.
Deep lines had appeared between his
eyes. He merely nodded to the Doc-
tor, thanked him and left. It was not
the first time that he had started on
the trail of a murderer with fragmen-
tary clews, but he wondered where the
slender thread would lead him this
time —two severed legs, a pair of
soiled trousers, a piece of red-and-
white checked blanket, two glove fin-
gers, an old laundry bag and a column
of ten figures. Could these things lead
him to a killer? Would they help iden-
tify the victim?
Back at Headquarters he sent out
word requesting all police to be on the
lookout for packages similar to that
found at Battery Park, and a special
check-up was begun on all cases of
women reported missing during the
preceding ten days. By nightfall the
squad assigned to the city’s latest mys-
tery had interviewed a score of rela-
tives and friends of missing women,
but no one had been able to identify
the brown trousers, the faded laundry
bag, or the red-checked bedspread
fragment.
EARLY the next day, Sunday, July 10,
Mrs. Mary Donovan hurried along
Sterling Place, in Brooklyn, on her
way to early church.
As she came upon the. church
grounds she saw a bundle in the
shrubbery. It was three feet long,
wrapped in brown paper. Curiously
she peered at it, then her eyes widened.
She could see a portion of a red-and-
white checked blanket protruding from
one corner,
Had some distracted mother left a
baby by the church door?
Gently she reached out her hand to
part the blanket. Her fingers touched
something soft—and cold. Quickly she
drew back. Whatever was inside had
the chill of death upon it; there was
a musty smell...
14
Frightened, she ran to the corner of
Sixth Avenue, where she found Pa-
trolman Fred Byrnes. The officer lis-
tened to her distressed story; hurried
back to the shrubbery. Cautioning her
to look away, he opened the bundle.
Inside the blanket he found the
fleshy thigh of-a woman!
Carefully he restored the wrappings,
then sent a bystander to telephone the
Bergen Street Police Station. Detec-
tive Fred S. Shaw responded to the
call and took charge of the package.
A quick search of the church grounds
yielded no clews to the person who
had left the bundle there. It was ap-
parent, however, that it had been de-
posited only a short time before, since
worshipers going to the six o’clock’
services had not seen it.
Back at thé station house, which also
housed Brooklyn Police Headquarters,
Detective Shaw flashed word of the
discovery to Manhattan. Immediate-
ly Inspector Carey hastened out. When
he saw the package, he took a strip of
red-and-white checked blanket from
an envelope, compared it with that
wrapped around the thigh. It matched.
He looked at the brown paper. While
it had no figures of any kind on it, it
was of the same color and texture as
that found early the preceding day in
Battery Park. There appeared to be
no doubt that both death packages had
the same origin—that the severed hu-
man parts they contained had once
been part of the same living person.
As the Inspector looked out of the
Police Station window onto the streets
of the Borough of Churches, it was
hard to reconcile their peaceful ap-
pearance with the realization that
somewhere in the district was a mur-
derous fiend engaged in a ghastly game
of hare and hounds—a man potentially
dangerous as long as he was at large.
He had killed once already and might
at any time kill again.
Carey was talking about the case to
Captain George F. Bishop, who com-
manded the Eleventh Detective Dis-
trict, when the telephone rang. Bish-
op picked up the receiver, and his
eyes narrowed as he heard the mes-
sage.
“Okay, we'll be right out,” he said.
He turned to Carey. “You're in luck,
Inspector. Somebody’s just found an-
other package.”
With Detective Shaw, the officials
hurried to Flatbush Avenue and Park
Ludwig Lee: “I can’t
speak much English.
‘| don’t know what
you are saying”
Because the drainage system in the brownstone lodging
house in Brooklyn, shown here, became clogged up, a
second woman was murdered and her body dismembered
ADS
ace, In front of the Carlton Theater,
anager Amadeo Competiollo waited
t them.
“It’s in the back,” he said as he led
em through an alley to an tron atalr-
ay that served as a fire-escape.
Inspector Carey unwrapped the
ckage. He was stecled against what
would find, for the bundle was
ne up in the familiar brown paper
d red-and-white blanket. It con-
ned the left shoulder and arm of a
man. The ring finger was missing,
t clutched in the remaining four
gers were several strands of black
ir.
While the discovery yielded another
ction to the grisly jig-saw, there
l was nothing on the blanket or
oer to yield a clew.to the grim
tcher who was disposing of a body
xcemeal. It was as if the killer were
‘rely taunting the police. Who was
? Where did he live? Who was
s woman who had been his victim?
T KINGS County Morgue Doctor
‘ Manuel E. Marten, Deputy Chief
‘dical Examiner, and his assistant,
ctor Romeo W. Auerbach, took
arge of the new fragments. One
m of their report impressed Inspec-
Carey: The black hair strands
re believed to have come from a
in. But who was he?
Yet, even while the hairs were being
utinized under the microscope, new
velopments were taking place.
3ubway Motorman Charles M. Low-
ran his train up to the bumper at>
: Thirty-Seventh Street end of the
‘th Avenue storage yards of the
How could this column of fig-
ures, found on a piece of wrap-
ping-paper, help detectives solve
the hacked-bodies murder case?
B, M. T., set his brakes and disengaged
hin control handle, Opening bia cab
door, he stepped to the ground, and
was about to make his way to the dis-
patcher's oMice when he caught slight
of a package wrapped in newspapers.
From it came an odor of decay...
Lowry was responsible for reporting
anything found in the vicinity of his
train, so he decided to open the wrap-
pings. .As he did so he saw that they
covered a green cloth haversack. He
‘opened the buckle of this, and another
package dropped out. This had a
torn undershirt wrapped around it. By
this time the motorman’s hands were
trembling, for what he held had an
oval shape. He almost guessed, even
before he parted the torn shirt, what
the package contained. Even then he
was shocked to the point of nausea
when he really saw it—a mutilated
human head!
Again detectives were sent speed-
ing from Headquarters, and soon Doc-
tor Marten had another piece to add
to the fragmentary collection of what
once had been an attractive woman—
that is, if no mistakes had been made.
It was possible because of the condi-
tion of the various parts that more
than one woman might have fallen
victim to the same fiend. The assump-
tion, however, was that only one wo-
man had been slain so far.
“There are lye grains in the hair—
your killer was taking no chances that
his victim might be recognized. There
is a considerable congestion of blood
under the neck tissues and it looks as
though this woman was strangled be-
fore being hacked into bits,” said the
Doctor after a study of the head. He
looked at the jaw-bone, then turned to
the officers. “She wore a lower plate.
If you can discover it, you might be
able to get an identification through
the dentist. Outside of that I can’t
These soiled trous-
ers, which once
had been wrapped
around parts of hu-
man legs, could fit
only one suspect
Ludwig Lee: His
answer to questions
was, “I don’t know”
roy anything more here to help you
out.”
As it was apparent that only the
surface of the case had as yet revealed
itself, Inspector Carey was soon in con-
ference with Deputy Chief Inspector
John J. Sullivan, in command of all
police in Brooklyn. Since all evidence
pointed toward the case being in Sulli-
van’s jurisdiction, because most of the
body parts had been located there,
Carey turned over to him all of the in-
formation that he had gathered. It
was then decided to keep the entire
detective division on duty in order to
ferret out all possible clews and dis-
cover the hiding-places of the remain-
ing portions of the body.
Shortly after these orders went out,
the next break came. At Grand Army
Plaza, the entrance to Prospect Park,
Bernard Kops, a taxi-driver, discov-
ered a package hidden in the shrub-
bery. When detectives rushed to the
spot they found parts-of a woman’s
thigh, similar to that discovered by
Mrs. Donovan earlier in the day.
Captain Bishop, who was in charge
of the detail, then found what looked
to him like a hot clew. Inside of the
brown paper covering was an inner
wrapper of gray paper. On this was a
label from a local department store,
addressed:
Miss S. E. Brownell
152 Sterling Place
Brooklyn
It was like a ray of light in the
midst of a dark and bewildering laby-.
rinth. At last the police had a fact
they could bite into. Who was Miss
Brownell and what part had she
played in the tragic game? Could she
be the victim?
The Captain called Inspector Sulli-
van to apprise him of the find. “Check
the address and report back,” ordered
Sullivan. :
The Sterling Place address was a
short distance from Grand Army Plaza
and the officers were there within a
few minutes.
The street was lined on both sides
with old-fashioned brownstone houses.
To their surprise they found No, 152
dark and unoccupied. The windows
(Continued on Page 42)
15
Legs... Fingers... Torsoes... Had to Be Fitted Together in a Human Jig-Saw Game
Before Brooklyn's Murder Victims Could Be Identified ... But Who Killed? Why ?
lining until midnight and the cloths
‘e all dry.”
Detective Sennft picked up the
‘own paper wrapping that originally
d covered the package. “You're
sht, Inspector,” he agreed. “There’s
‘ta sign of dampness.”
As Sennft spoke he played his flash-
ht on the wrapping, and suddenly
3 eyes narrowed. ‘“Hello—” he said,
using. “Here’s something.”
(nspector Carey stepped to his side
d saw what had excited the detec-
e’s attention.
({t was a column of nine figures, made
pencil and added together.
blag do you make of it?” inquired
inft.
Looks more like a grocery bill than
‘thing else,” Carey answered. “It
y or may not mean anything. Any-
y there’s nothing we can do about
tight now. We still have to find
er portions of the body, and unless
get a report on a missing person,
may never be able to make an
itification. So for the time being,
3 concentrate on a search of the
nity and see what we can find.”
\lthough they had an amazing
umber of clews, in the parcels
n the barrel, detectives were at a
»8s to identify the murder victims
Sr
“a
Accordingly the officers, aided by
re-enforcements from the Old Slip
Station, combed the vicinity of the
waterfront in the hope of discovering
additional fragments, or rounding up
someone who actually had seen the
package being deposited between the
shrubbery and the ventilator.
The quest was doomed to failure.
Dawn was breaking in a gray sky, and
Inspector Carey reluctantly decided
that there was nothing further to be
learned at Battery Park. But once on
the trail of what he suspected to be a
brutal murder, the Inspector did not
give up easily.
Even the walls and ceilings of Miss Saran &. Brownell’s house
held telltale clews to its owner’s fate, as this patrolman found
Promptly at nine o’clock he was at
the Bellevue Hospital morgue, where
he sought out Assistant Chief Medical
Examiner Doctor Thomas A. Gonzales
and showed him the fragments that
had been found by Kudener.
Docror GONZALES, a spare, dark-
mustached man with alert black
eyes, looked at the legs, then at In-
spector Carey.
“You say that these were: found in
a pair of trousers?”
“Yes,” said the Inspector. “Why?”
“They're not a man’s legs, they’re a
woman’s!”
13
ace
“Not unless you say ‘Pretty Please with sugar on it’!”
The Strange Case of Ludwig Lee
through property titles proved that the
house had belonged to him in the first
place. He had every right to do what
he wished.
Auerbach returned once more to the
now familiar house at 28 Prospect
Place. For his own satisfaction, he
made a search of Lee's clothes, In the
dusty little room whose occupant was
lodged in jail, he found two white
shirts stuffed in the bottom of a
drawer. He returned with these to
Headquarters,
A comparison of these with the
bloodstained garment found in the
cellar’s lathing proved that unques-
tionably they were all the property of
Ludwig Lee, ‘The net was drawn a
little tighter. But Lee would admit
nothing,
“If only we had some unbreakable
link, tying Lee to either one of those
women,” Auerbach said in a conver-
sation with Attorney Dodd. “I'd feel
a lot surer of getting a conviction. We
believe he’s guilty—but will the jury?”
“You never did trace down those
numbers on the brown paper bag, did
your” Dodd asked. “The one that
part of the corpse was wrapped in?”
80
[Continued from preceding page|
“No,” Auerbach told him, “My men
asked everywhere. I think they must
have tried every store for miles around.
Say... waita minute, I just thought
of something that Mrs. Prescott told
-me. I'll be back.”
Auerbach hurried to where the
State's evidence was being held in safe
keeping for the coming trial. Borrow-
ing the piece of torn brown paper he
returned once more to Prospect Place.
Mrs. Prescott was leaving the house
as the detective bounded up her steps.
“Do you remember telling me that
you had a talk with Miss Brownell at
the market just before she had planned
to go away?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, “TI do.”
“Would you be good enough to
show me where your market is?” De-
tective Auerbach said, “It is just pos-
sible that you can help me to convict
a murderer.”
“T’ll be glad to take you there,” said
Mrs. Prescott. “I was going right past
it anyway.”
A short walk brought them to a large
meat and vegetable market.
“May I see the manager, please?’’
Aucrbach asked one of the clerks,
“He's home sick today,” the boy told
him, “Can I help you?”
“Do you recognize these figures?” the
detective asked him, pulling the piece
of brown paper out of his pocket.
“Nope. I don’t,” the boy said.
“Do you think this is one of your
bags?” asked Auerbach,
“Hard to say,” the boy told him.
“Who's been working here the long-
est?” Auerbach asked.
“That man over there,” said the boy.
He pointed to the grocery counter.
“Maybe he can help you. What’sa mat-
ter? Were you overcharged?”
Auerbach ignored him and crossed
the store. He had to wait a minute
or two until the man behind the
counter was free.
“Yes?” he said pleasantly.
“Can you tell me who might have
written these figures here on this bag?”
Auerbach asked,
“Why yes,” the man said, “I did,
That’s the way I make my fives,,and
sevens, See?” He wrote down some
figures beside the ones on the bag.
On October 27, 1927, Ludwig Lee
went on trial for his life in the King's
County Court,
His lawyer put forth a vigorous de-
fense, and Lee might have walked out
of Court a free man but for two things.
One, thanks to the perseverance of De-
tective Auerbach, a Brooklyn grocery
clerk was able to prove that the figures
on a torn piece of brown paper had
been written by him. That piece of.
paper had been used to wrap up parts
of a dismembered body, It was proven
that Miss Sarah Brownell, and Mrs.
Bennett before her, had done their
food shopping at the Sunset Mapket.
It was also proven that after Miss
Brownell’s departure, Ludwig Lee had
continued to buy groceries from the
same store for the household.
The final crushing blow to Lee’s
hopes of freedom was the arrival of
the long awaited report from the FBI
in Washington. The jury was pre-
sented with positive proof that strands
of hair, found in a severed hand, had
been torn from the head of Ludwig
Lee!
The jury found Lee guilty of murder
in the first degree. A little less than
a year later, at midnight, on August 2,
1928, Ludwig Lee was marched from
his cell and into the Death House.
Within seven minutes, he had paid for
his crimes with his life.
Death Comes to
[Continued fr
“Same caliber,” |
eyes full of mystifi
Jim had a gun? |
he owned a gun?”
at his Assistants a!
heads.
“Maybe he didi
said. “Maybe it v
to him.”
“Who'd loan or
like to know.” 7
tive on this poir
that poor dope \
He broke off unce
“Unless it was g
special purpose,”
Sheriff's interrup'
“What special
at Maness. “W!
mind, Maness?”
“Let's have a |:
Maness said evas
In the yard th
pile of debris, «
leg missing.
“My God!” S!
beyond speech i
“Same legs—t!
as the one you s!
the blood all ov:
“You're righ
slowly.
“Here’s a nev
to saw off the k
what?” Guy NS
iff.
“Now we g¢
Stratton. I'll
homa. He'll g
him back here.
Jim Stratton
town of Ant
Under the gr)
who was sorr
tarded factory
disturbed, obv
“ much damnit
discovered.
Monotonou
Stratton repe:
innocence. Fit
to Maness anc
“See if you
of him. J can
“Can't do
“I’m not in y:
“Right thi
Sheriff told
forthwith.”
“Want me
lars Turner |
Toe Be Kings),
: i ec. Sing Sing (K :
oe Tete. elec. ng ae
ii iene esti fit Roe ghis
pik 2 s : Gi °
A. i : ze
oe eae ane) z - E °
Say Nee = =] fy x x M
“G © (4 ~ 3 Ss o
ities Ode ts : 9 >
lo eee : ‘
ke aie =| A 4 oS 7,
es ee —] (o}
are” hal - po :
cet a
pig ceaags) be a
ai Ly og Om : Ss 5
ty “4 Ay ~ BR , 5 >
omsp 5 3 A %
: a z fo : fa
fe) p> 64
8) > E
fae m az isa] i A 3
& < a
. ce < :
t ty < ind (=)
A (eo) 5
> res) ms oO Q
a>
i
a eee
Maem 8
ndoy
3 ay ur Ara][ey) sa
o skep plo poo Ag s0yadsuy
‘meuonnay A330 OAL nf) [IY uo syooy (3591) sourhg
s3nuw,, ‘ :
‘ 943 JOF ..pa
is missing
as notice-
“an some-
Don't you
ed,
Detective
f and told
not doubt
‘scott were
had to say.
ould ,have
escott said
i, “you say
ctts pretty
ered.
re on good
.
r. and Mrs.
iy so,” she
link it was
‘red should
e to Miss
| been her
had worked
clike, even
erself when
get. Miss
—a retired
don't think
the house.”
like?” asked
About sixty,
she’d want
n't imagine,
ut,
ve seen her?”
away almost
rs. Auerbach
she said one
t the market
et out of the.
June as she
e didn’t have
sé any more,
ve very soon.
: her again.”
) off and leave
ective. “Who
3?”
Lee does that.
-escott. “He's
reliable. He -
rthe Bennetts ©
of think he’s =
ie
these past few. —
en there’s no 9¢
eye on those
¢
ut of the ordi-”
4
*
f
an
a
ef
IES
The Strange Case of Ludwig Lee
[Continued from preceding page]
nary,’ Mrs, Prescott said, addressing
her husband, “do you remember that
man poking at the sewer-cap as we
came home from the movies last
night?”
“Yes, that was a bit odd, come to
think of it,” said Mr. Prescott. “We
were walking down Prospect Place
about eleven o'clock last night. We
had just come from the movies, and
as we got near our house we saw a
man bent over’the sewer. He had evi-
dently pried the cover up, for he let
it down with a bang when he saw Us
coming, and skedaddled off into the
night.” ;
“Did you get a look at him? Could
you describe him?” asked Auerbach.
“Tm afraid not very well,” Prescott
replied, “The street light which or-
dinarily shines almost in our front win-
dows has been out for the last two
nights. Guess the City hasn't been
able to spare a repair truck yet to get
out here.”
“Did you see where the man went?”
Auerbach asked again.
_ “Just down the street is all I remem-
ber. We turned in here. We did think
it was sort of silly, My wife said some-
thing about what a time of night to
go fishing.” .
Detective Auerbach knew he was
striking in the dark, but he had lite
other choice. “The efforts of fifty de-
tectives operating from Headquarters
~ had failed to unearth one remote clue
to the identity of the woman whose
hands and feet and shoulder had been
found scattered in Manhattan and
Brooklyn.
Mrs. Bennett was nothing more than
a wild goose chase to Auerbach. In
all probability, he reasoned, she had
simply walked away from her husband
and son. There were a variety of rea-
sons why a woman might do that. De-
tective Auerbach, a veteran on the
force, knew all these reasons.
But this statement of the Prescotts,
that they had seen somebody fooling
with the sewer, interested him. It was
night now, but he called the City Sani-
tation Bureau to search all the sewers
‘in the section of Brooklyn around
Prospect Place. :
When dawn came, and the mystery
of the woman was still a baffling
enigma, the Department of
started searching the sewers.
They didn’t have to look far.
Sanitation
In
again.
the sewer near 28 P
a water-clogged p
from the cellar of Miss
the parts
in Manhattan an
remained of Sarah
Detective Auerb
Prospect Place.
sweeping t
house. .Seen i
appeared very calm as he
his work.
women.
“You know Miss Browne
Bennett were found
in your cellar?” Aue
“Sure I know it.
knows it. Terrible thing.”
“We're taking you to
He
We want to have a talk
Auerbach told him.
Lee shrugged his sh
ready told you all I know,’
At Headquarters,
stolid and stubborn
Lee
claimed that Miss Browne
him one day,
tives upstate.
It
oulders.
custonicr,
rospect Place, in
assageway leading
Brownell’s
house, they found the dismembered
bodies of two
Both were identi
and Mrs. Bennett!
* Doctor Gonzales
He had litt
of the human
fied—Miss Brownell
started to work
le difficulty fitting
body found
d Brooklyn to what
Brownell.
ach returned to 28
He found Ludwig Lee
he sidewalk in front of the
n the light of day, Lee
went about
ll and Mrs.
hacked to pieces
rbach said.
Half of Brooklyn
adquarters.
with you,”
“T al-
"he said.
proved a
He
li had told
she was to visit her rela-
had been his after-
noon olf. She must have left that eve-
ning for
there. Heh
her since.
he didn’t
He
anything else, he wasn’t tel
remained
Meanwhile, De
ing the house fro
afternoon of the
received word o
Hurrying to Pros
himself what thoroug
m attic to cellar.
third day, Auerbach
f a major discovery.
pect Place he saw for
h searching had
next morning she wasn't
adn’t seen or heard from
No,
was odd, He took his sal
from the rents that were
house, depositin
Brownell’s account.
of the money he receivec
he spent for expenses.
think that
ary each weck
paid to the
g the balance to Miss
kept a list
1 and of what
If Lee knew
ling it. He
calm and placid.
tectives were comb-
The
at last revealed. In the ceiling of the
cellar, stuffed up behind th
police had found a man’s white shirt.
It was covere
When confronted
dence, Lee still refused to
thing. He said he had never seen the
He contended that any
shirt before.
number of peop
house, that he t
Brownell only a
he had known Mrs.
That in t
while.
e lathes, the
d with bloodstains.
with
this evi-
admit any-
le had access to the
nad worked for Miss
short time, but that
Bennett for a long
he neighborhood.
people knew him and trusted him.
"This was substantially true.
District Attorney Charles Dodd had
taken charge of the questioning. He
felt. the ‘evidence was pretty slim
against Lee, In spite of the blood-
stained shirt, there were no finger:
prints which could damn him, and no
murder weapon had been found.
Auerbach returned to the Prospect
Park neighborhood. He talked to
many people who had known all three
principals in the case. Beginning with
the Prescotts, they were all mystified
as to why Lee should have committed
the murders.
Finally, Lee, who was lolling in jail,
held on. circumstantial evidence, de-
manded legal representation, He se-
cured the services of Edward J. Reilly,
who had become famous in the Haupt.
mann trial.
The retaining of Reilly set Auerbach
to wondering anew. The lawyer did
not work for nothing .-- his fees were
high. Where had Lee got the money
to hire him? :
Lee grew sullen and defiant. He was
a hard-working man, he said, He had
worked most of his life. He guessed
he could use his savings now, if he
wanted to,
Auerbach paid a visit to Miss
Brownell’s bank, The bank, working
with Auerbach's authority, produced
evidence that sums of money had been
drawn from Miss Brownell’s account -
after her alleged departure for Glovers:
ville. ‘The sums were small and since
she was an elderly lady and her hand-
writing already somewhat erratic, the
bank had not seen fit to question her
signature.
Efforts to locate Brownell relatives
in Gloversville failed. Auerbach still
had an ace in the hole which awaited
confirmation from Washington’s FBI.
Meanwhile, the time of Lee’s trial
was drawing near. Reilly, Lee’s law-
yer, had prepared a vigorous defense _
based mainly on the weakness of the
State’s evidence. :
Auerbach knew that although he
could prove Ludwig Lee had forged
checks on Sarah Brownell’s account,
that, in itself, was not sufficient to con-
vict Lee of her murder,
Auerbach reviewed his evidence for
the hundredth time. He remembered
what the Prescotts had told him about
Mrs. Bennett's dissatisfaction with her
husband's selling the house. But it
was Mrs, Bennett who had been mur-
dered. not her husband. A search
79
a es 8 A
et! 1S
Bex
The Strange. Case of Ludwig Lee
[Continued from page $5]
being combed for information about
the grocery figures and about any
elderly woman who had been reported.
missing within the past three weeks.
The newspaper publicity had sent
boys—and even men — scampering
through the parks in search of missing
parts of the body.
A short time later, Detective Auer-
bach was squinting at house numbers
on Prospect Place. Twenty-eight
proved to be one of several similar
houses that lined the block. Auerbach
-rang the bell. For a long time there
was no answer. Finally, he heard foot-
steps coming toward him. ,
A young girl, hat and coat on, evi-
dently on her way out, opened the
door. She glanced at the detective and
then started past him.
“Can you tell me where I can find
Miss Sarah Brownell?” Auerbach asked.
“Search me,” the girl answered, “T
never heard of her. I've just moved
in,”
' “I understand she owns this house,”
Auerbach persisted.
“Well, you'll have to ask Mr. Lee,”
she said, “He's the superintendent.”
“Where will I find him?”
“He lives in the basement,” the girl
replied, “I’ve got to go, I’m late.”
Auerbach went down the steps and
.entered the basement gaté. . No light
shone, and he had to strike a match
sto find the bell. He rang for several
. minutes but no-one answered. ;
“T’ll try upstairs again,” he thought.
Just then a bolt was shot back and the
‘door swung open.
“Yes, what did you want?” It was
a man’s voice. Foreign, probably Nor-
wegian.
“Are you Mr, Lee?”
"I’m Ludwig Lee.
want? A room?”
“I'd like to see Miss Sarah Brownell,”
Auerbach told him.
“She ain’t here,” said the man. “She
left. me in charge. I can show you a
room.” He rattled a string of keys.
“Come this way!”
“I don’t want a room,” said Auer-
bach. “Can you tcll me when Miss
Brownell will return?”
, “Are you a friend of hers?” Lee
asked.
“In a way,” Auerbach told him..
“How long has she been gone?”
“Few weeks. She went to visit rela-
tives upstate.”
78
What did you
“Do you expect her back soon?”
“She don’t tell me, I just take care
of house, That's all,”
“One more thing,” Auerbach added,
“Do you know Mrs. Bennett, the lady
who used to own this house before
Miss Brownell did?”
“I know her,” Lee said. “I worked
for her and her husband, when they
had the house.”
“Have you seen her lately?” the de-
tective asked.
“No. She ain’t been around here
that I know of,” Lee told him.
“If she comes, let the police know.”
Auerbach went out and clanged the
gate behind him.
Next door, in bright contrast, lights
blazed from most of the front windows.
Following a hunch, Auerbach mounted
the steps and rang the bell.
“Good evening. What can I do for
your” A quiet-voiced middle-aged
woman stood in the doorway.
“I'm from Police Headquarters,”
Auerbach said. ‘Could you spare a few
minutes to answer some questions?”
Startled, the woman hesitated and
then stepped back to allow the detec-
tive to pass her. “Come in,” she said.
“We're having a little family party to-
night,” she told him, * “I thought you
were a guest arriving. Come in here,
we can talk better. What is the
trouble?”
‘The woman lcd him into a small sit-
ting room off the front hall and closed
the door behind her,
Detective Auerbach came to: the
point at once.
“Do you know Miss Sarah Brownell
who lives next door,” he asked.
“Why, yes, I do,” the woman an-
swered, “She took over the house
when the Bennetts sold it. My hus-
band and I know. the Bennetts quite
well. In fact I was telling Mrs. Ben-
nett only yesterday how much better
they used to keep the house.”
“You talked to Mrs. Bennett yes-
terday?” said Auerbach quickly.
“Early last evening. She told me
that she had some business with Miss
Brownell and I told her that as far as
I knew Miss Brownell was still away
in Gloversville.”
“What time would you say that
was?”
“Why, about seven o'clock,” said the
woman. ‘My husband and I had an
eye on the clock because we were going
to the movies.”
“Did you know that Mrs. Bennett
never returned home last night and
that -her son reported her as missing
to the police this afternoon?”
“What?” The woman was notice-
ably startled, “Do you mean some:
thing has happened to her? Don't you
know where she is?’’ she asked.
The husband came in and Detective
Auerbach introduced himself and told
the man his story. He could not doubt
that both Mr. and Mrs. Prescott were
genuinely upset at what he had to say.
“I can’t imagine. what could have
happened to her,” Mrs. Prescott said
over and over again.
“Tell me,” said Auerbach, “you say
you both knew the Bennetts pretty
well?”
“Yes,” the husband answered.
“Would you say they were on good
‘terms with each other?”
A look passed between Mr. and Mrs.
Prescott. ‘Yes, I would say so,” she
answered, “But I don’t think it was
any secret that she felt Alfred should
not have sold the house -to Miss
Brownell, It had sort of been her
baby for a long time, She had worked
hard at making it homelike, even
doing a lot of the work herself when
help became so hard to get, Miss
Brownell is an old lady—a_ retired
teacher, I believe, and I don’t think
they got much in cash for the house.” '
“What is Miss Brownell like?” asked
Auerbach,
“Oh, the spinster type. About sixty,
I should say. Whatever she'd want
with a rooming house I can’t imagine,
anyhow,” said Mr, Prescott.
‘How long since you have seen her?”
the detective asked.
“Let's sec. She's been away almost
a month, I should say,” Mrs. Auerbach
said, “Yes, I remember she said one
morning when we met at the market
that she always tried to get out of the
city as near the first of June as she
could. And that now she didn't have
to wait for school to close any more,
she was planning to leave very soon.
I don’t remember seeing her again.”
“How could she just go off and leave
her house?” asked the detective. ‘Who
takes care of her boarders?”
“Oh, a fellow named Lee does that.
Ludwig Lee,” said Mr, Prescott. “He's
a Norwegian. Quite reliable. He
used to manage things for the Bennetts
too. Though I kind of think he’s
taken to drinking a bit these past few
weeks. It's difficult when there’s no
man around to keep an eye on those
fellows.”
“Speaking of things ‘out of the ordi-
The Strange ‘
[Continued
nary,’ "’ Mrs, P
her husband, °
man poking a
came home |
night?”
“Yes, that »
think of it,” s:
were walking
about eleven «
had just come
as we got nea
man bent over
dently pried t
it down with
coming, and +
night.”
“Did you ge
you describe
“I'm afraid
replied, “Th:
dinarily shines
dows has bec
nights, Gues
able to spare |
out here.”
“Did you sc
Auerbach ask
“Just down
ber. We turm
it was sort of s
thing about \
go fishing.”
Detective .
striking in th
other choice.
tectives opera
~had failed to
to the identi
hands and fe
found scatte
Brooklyn.
Mrs. Beni
a wild goose
all probabili
simply walke
and son. Tl
sons why a w
tective Aue:
force, knew :
But this st
that they ha
with the sew
night now, }
tation Burca
in the secti
Prospect Pla
When day
of the won
enigma, the
started searc
They did
|
and clear, olive complexion belied the
years to which she must admit.
It was then romance came to her.
Farnsworth, alias Harry C. Race, was
on trial for carrying concealed weap-
ons. She saw his record and it was bad.
He had been convicted in Montpelier,
Vermont, for breach of the peace. A
prison sentence in Waterbury, Connec-
ticut, followed a conviction on a white-
slave charge. In Nassau County, New
York, he had been convicted of bur-
glary and sentenced to Sing Sing Pris-
on. There were other terms in Au-
burn and Clinton Prisons.
But Bernice Kenyon looked at the
prisoner at the bar and thought she
saw the good in him, Clean-cut, des-
pite his damning record, she saw in
him the man of her dreams. It was
love at first sight.
“That night,” Carlson told the men,
“she visited Farnsworth in his cell-in
the County Jail at Little Valley. She
talked to him a long while and when,
she came out she seemed to be so gay
and happy. I couldn’t understand it
then, but later I did.”
Finally the trial ended and Farns-
worth was convicted. During the days
he was awaiting sentence, Bernice vis-
ited him often and, unknown to any-
one except themselves, an under-
standing was reached. She would wait
for him and when he had made his
peace with the law and Society and
was free again, they would be married
and he could start life anew with
Bernice. She had saved some money
and with it she would buy a little farm
away from the world that had been his
downfall and there, together, they
would remold their lives.
“She liked to quote Omar Khayyam,”
Carlson related, “and afer Farnsworth
was taken away to serve a seven-year
sentence in Auburn Prison, I found a
note in his cell that she had written
to him... just a bit of verse by the
Persian poet which said:
Ah, Love! could Thou and
I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry
Scheme of Things entire,
Would we not shatter it to
bits—and then
Re-mould it nearer to the
Heart’s Desire!
“T think that expressed her idea
about Farnsworth,” Carlson said. “She
thought she could make him over.”
Five years passed and the day came
when Farnsworth was paroled. His rec-
ord at Auburn was good and also at
Clinton, where he was transferred, so
early in August, 1934, he left the grim
walls behind him and came back to
Little Valley. On August 8, he and
Bernice were quietly married.
She resigned her position and they
went immediately to the little farm in
Coldspring Township, where the wo-
man, now past 50, had prepared for
his coming on a well-stocked farm.
That was only seven months before.
Now it was March, 1935, and grim,
stark tragedy and death had stepped
in to end this May-and-December ro-
mance.
Sheriff Carlson shrugged after re-
lating the story which was new to some
of the officers present.
“I never did think much of it,” he
said. “Bernice was too nice a woman
for that fellow, but she would do it.
She wouldn’t listen to her friends—
and now look at the result!”
His hand made a sweeping gesture
that, more eloquently than words, took
in the front room and cellar where
their broken bodies lay in death.
Miller, who had been quiet during
the recital of the story, said:
_ “It looks to me as though they had
a fight over something. Maybe he
wanted to go back to the old ways
and she fought to keep him straight.
Then he ups and kills her with the axe
and realizing what he has done when
his temper cooled, blows his own
brains out.”
An hour passed and now the purring
of an automobile motor outside ar-
rested the men’s attention.
It was Coroner Smith.
After the Coroner had heard Carl-
son’s and Miller’s accounts of the find-
ing of the dead couple, he began an
40
examination of the bodies and the
rooms.
“Certainly looks like murder and
suicide,” he finally said.
He pointed to the bloody garments
and hands of Farnsworth.
“This blood didn’t come from his
own wound,” he said. “See, both hands
are smeared and the blood on his
clothing is only waist high. If it had
been from the wound in his head it
would have run down over the upper
part of his shirt and coat.”
Upstairs in a bedroom, the officers
saw that one bureau drawer had been
ransacked, its contents scattered over
the floor. They found a small tin box
that had been pried open. It had con-
tained several bank books and some
oye that were strewn around near
y. But nothing else in the house had
been disturbed. There had been no
The Sheriff took it, gingerly turning
it over in his hands, “Nope,” he re-
plied, “but I know Bernice had a per-
mit for a gun. I remember when she
applied for it. She said she wanted it
because she and Farnsworth were go-
ing to live on the lonely farm and that
she would feel safer with it in the
house.”
“Well, it looks like an open-and-shut
case to me,” Miller said. “I suppose all
that’s left to do is examine the bloody
axe for finger-prints, if there are any
on it—which I doubt—just to make the
case sure, then tell the undertaker to
remove the bodies and write off an-
other murder and suicide.”
Several of the deputies shrugged,
started buttoning their overcoats and
moved toward the door, believing their
work done and glad of it, when Sheriff
Carlson spoke:
SMe Tae ee
Seite!
Detroit police searched Dumfries Street high and low before they
picked out this house and the man
who boarded there. He was wanted
for questioning in the killing of Emma Mahn. See story on Page 2
struggle, no general search through
the house for something the murderer
= ae woman had sought but could not
nd.
“Evidently,” Miller said, ‘“Farns-
worth was looking for money or per-
haps the savings-bank book which you
notice had both their names on it. Mrs.
Farnsworth probably caught him in
the act of going through the box,
which aroused her suspicions. He knew
exactly where to look, too, because he
went to the right place without both-
ering to search the other drawers.”
A closer examination of the box and
the contents of the drawer failed to
disclose any evidence of blood. Com-
menting on this, Carlson told the men:
“If this had been a case of robbery,
the intruder would have killed the wo-
man and “Farnsworth first, then.
searched the house. And bloody hands
would have left tracks.”
ILLER continued with his recon-
struction of the crime. “That’s right.
After she caught him with the bank
books they quarreled and went down-
stairs. When she went to the cellar he
followed her and killed her with the
axe, Then, coming back to the kitchen,
he saw the only way out was suicide.”
There was some speculation as to the
ownership of the revolver and where
Farnsworth had obtained it and when
the investigators returned to the first
floor, Miller picked it up from beside
the body of the dead man and exam-
ined it.
“Only one shot fired,” he remarked.
“Ever see it before?” he asked Carl-
son, handing him the weapon.
“Not so fast, boys ... not so fast!”
The men in the room turned and
looked at him quizzically, waiting for
him to continue.
“Why, what’s left to do?” someone
asked impatiently.
Carlson waited a moment before re-
plying, glancing first at the body of the
dead man, then at his deputies and the
others.
“Well,” he finally said, “all we have
to do now is find the murderer! That’s
The Sheriff’s blunt statement cut into
the consciousness of the men like a
knife thrust.
“The murderer?” they exclaimed al-
most in unison, ‘
“That’s right, boys,” Carlson said,
quietly, “Farnsworth and his wife
were murdered!”
“How do you make that out?” Miller
asked, looking sharply at the Sheriff.
“Take a look at that gun,” Sheriff
Carlson directed, handing it to the in-
vestigator.
Miller took it and looked it over
closely.
“Do you see any blood on it?”
Instantly the significance of the
question dawned on the others. But
Carlson was explaining.
“When I handled that revolver, with
which Farnsworth was supposed to
have shot himself after killing his
wife, I instinctively looked at my hands
when I laid it down. I expected to find
blood on them. But I didn’t. Something
was wrong, I knew, but I didn’t at the
moment know what. I picked the re-
volver up again and then it came to
. me, There was Farnsworth, his cloth-
ing and hands fresh with the blood of
his wife when he came up from the
cellar and killed himself, He couldn’t
have avoided getting blood on the
gun handle, could he?”
He pointed an accusing finger at the
body. “Look at his hands. Both of them
are covered with blood. Then look
again at the gun, Not a sign of any on
it anywhere!” ‘
He paused a moment for the others
to speak and when the silence con-
tinued he asked:
“Well, what do you make of it?”
T= Sheriff did not need to explain
further.
“By Heaven! You're right, Les!”
Miller exclaimed. “I see it all now.
Whoever killed the woman came up
from the cellar, waited for Farnsworth
to come in and shot him from ambush,
which explains why there was no
struggle. Then the murderer finished
his ghastly work by smearing the
woman’s blood on the clothing and
hands of the man, to make it appear
like a case of murder and suicide—”
“Exactly,” Carlson cut in. “Only our
murderer forgot the little detail of
putting some blood on the handle of
the gun too!”
The officers gasped in amazement at
the fearful ingenuity of the killer, who,
had it not been for the observing
Sheriff, might have gotten away with
his fiendish crime. The men whoa mo-
ment before Carlson’s dramatic state-
ment were ready to go home now were
eager to get busy on the manhunt.
But the Sheriff was in no immediate
hurry and held up a restraining hand.
“We better wait until daylight be-
fore we disturb anything here,” he
said. “These bodies have lain here for
days—maybe a week—and the mur-
derer has a long start on us already,
so a few e hours won’t make much
difference. Meanwhile, we’ll get ready
to be at work as soon as we can
see,”
Sheriff Carlson sent two deputies to
Little Valley, one to bring back a
finger-print man, the other to check
on the number and permit for the
revolver and its ownership and to
find out everything possible as to when
either of the Farnsworths was last
seen in the village.
Two other deputies and two State
Troopers were assigned to canvass
neighboring farmers to learn of the
activities and habits of the slain couple’
since they had moved to the farm.
Carlson and Miller went to a near-by
farmhouse to telephone police stations
and broadcast the story of the mur-
ders and all other information at once.
Coroner Smith prepared for the re-
moval of the bodies to the morgue.in
the morning, when, he said, he would
hold an autopsy to determine the
exact cause of death and whether the
woman had been criminally attacked.
And two other officers, chilled ~to
the bone by now in the sub-zero tem-
perature, their teeth chattering from
the cold and the eerie surroundings,
were left to guard the place of death
until the others returned.
With the first faint streaks of dawn
Carlson and Miller were back at the
Farnsworth home. In the bright morn-
ing light they began a minute inspec-
tion of the house, the barns and the
surrounding yard.
Definitely they established as the
day wore on that the man and woman
had been dead for at least five days.
This was supported by the fact that
there were no tracks in the snow, now
a week old, from the condition of the
half-starved cattle and from the Cor-
oner’s report. Doctor Smith also an-
nounced that Mrs. Farnsworth had not
been criminally attacked.
Soon they discovered that the auto-
mobile, which Farnsworth was known
to have driven daily to the creamery
with milk, was gone. And down the
road, one end protruding from a snow -
drift, they found a rack for the rear
of the car in which milk cans were
carried. It had been thrown there re-
cently and was identified at the cream-
ery as belonging to Farnsworth be-
cause of an unusual arrangement the
man had devised to attach it to the
back of the car.
(Continued on Page 54)
LINDSAY, Alfred, white, elec. Sing Sing
Trail of the “True Love”
Alfred Lindsay, who
had been in prison
with the slain man
(7Cattaraugus Co.) 8/29/1935...
By Robert
Killer
Rensselaer
Special Investigator for
ACTUAL DETECTIVE STORIES
of Women in Crime
ay J Siam Waitm bellowed Wil-
liam Whitmore as he leaped
from his sleigh and walked
through the knee-deep snow in the
direction of the Farnsworth farmhouse.
There was no answer—only an echo
that came back from the white-clad
hills to the west.
Whitmore hailed the house again.
Still no answer. .
The visitor began to wonder. He
veered off toward the barn, making
heavy going of it, for there were high
drifts of snow. A week before, a March
blizzard had howled through this bleak
Cattaraugus hill country.
Harold Farnsworth was not in the
barn. Neither was his wife, Bernice,
who helped him operate the small
dairy farm. In fact, it became obvious
to Whitmore that the Farnsworths had
not been around for some time. For
half-starved cows were bawling and
in the barn he found a team of wild-
eyed horses, suffering from hunger and
thirst. They snorted and pawed in stalls
long uncleaned: And the Farnsworths
were known as a neat couple.
Whitmore turned from the barn to
the house, then stopped and shrugged
nervously and decided to go back and
report to his employer, Ira Bennett, a
prosperous farmer on the main high-
way. But first he unfastened the wagon
that Bennett had borrowed from the
Farnworths a week before and was
having Whitmore return. Then he
leaped into the sleigh, to which the
wagon had been attached, and turning
his team around drove back quickly
the way he had come.
He had a strong intuition that there
was something very wrong at the
Farnsworth place.
He found Ira Bennett at the after-
noon chores and voiced his alarm.
“Not even any tracks in the snow
around there or any smoke coming
from the chimney,” he ended up.
Ira Bennett scattered the forkful of
straw in a horse’s stall and looked in-
quiringly at Whitmore. “Hm! Not like
Farnsworth to leave stock that way,”
he remarked. “Guess we better go over
a4 see what’s up, Bill. Maybe they’re
sick.”
Returning with Whitmore, Bennett
waded through the snow to the barn.
He saw no tracks except those made
an hour before by his hired man. The
bawling of the cattle was resumed as
they neared. It was as Whitmore had
said—cold, bleak, deserted. They
turned. to the house. At the back door
Bennett rapped loudly with a ponder-
ous fist. He waited, but there was no
response, ;
Dusk was settling as Ira Bennett
pushed open the unlocked door and
walked into the kitchen. It was as cold
and damp as the tomb. He called to
Farnsworth, but there was only an
ominous stillness through the dreary
dwelling.
Bennett strode toward the door into
the living-room. As he reached it he
recoiled, his bronzed face blanching in
horror.
Ira Bennett, pointing, shown with his hired man, William Whitmore.
These two neighbors of the Farnsworths discovered the pair of bodies
lt Was Love at First Sight Between
This Oddly Matched Couple in the
Cattaraugus Hill Country of West-
ern New York. But When Death—
There on the floor in a pool of frozen
od lay Farnsworth.
Recovering his nerves quickly, Ben-
tt stepped around the body and raced
, the stairs in search of Mrs. Farns-
yrth, fearful of what he knew he
ust find, But he discovered nothing
id had started for the lower floor
nen a terrified shout from Whitmore
ited him.
“Ira... Ira!... She’s down cellar!”
From the top of the stairs leading
om the kitchen to the basement the
yo men peered fearfully into the
ithering gloom. At the bottom they
ade out the still form of a woman
yrawled on the floor.
Bennett and Whitmore waited to see
) more. Leaving the house of death
iey raced back to the Bennett farm.
here, his voice shaking with emotion,
‘a telephoned the Sheriff's office at
ittle Valley, New York, the county
rat.
Darkness had fallen over the coun-
‘yside when Sheriff Lester W. Carl-
jn reached the Farnsworth homestead
: the Town of Coldspring. With the
heriff were several Cattaraugus
‘ounty deputies as well as Elmer
filler, ace investigator for District At-
yey A, Edward Krieger, and Lieu-
snant William George of the State
»olice, from Friendship Barracks. Only
_ Tragic end of the pla
apt
n to “grasp this
sorry Scheme of. Things.”. Mrs. Farns-.
worth’s body, right, was almost-headless
the reflected white glare of the snow
and eerie patches of light from the
men’s electric torches lit their way as
they waded through the drifts to the
house of death.
Inside, Sheriff Carlson and Lieuten-
ant Miller made a hurried inspection
of the farmhouse rooms and of Harold
Farnsworth’s body. Their faces were
sober and grim. But a still more grue-
some sight met their gaze when. the
men descended to the. cellar. As little
circles from their flashlights danced up
and down on the whitewashed walls
and over the black, earthen floor, they
finally converged and came to rest on
the horribly mutilated body of Mrs.
Farnsworth.
i ae woman had been practically de-
capitated. Her features were un-
Blood was_ spattered
everywhere. She lay as she had fallen
and near by was a bloody axe, appar-
ently the murder weapon. Scattered
over the floor was a small pan and the
vegetables it had contained that she
had been carrying upstairs when she
was struck down.
In the living-room, Miller was ex-
amining the body that had been
Farnsworth. Gingerly he lifted the
front of the coat that had spread over
the man’s right forearm and hand
recognizable.
The farmhouse in
to remold their
when he fell. ‘I'here. lay a small .38
caliber revolver, the single shot from
which had entered the victim’s head.
Closer inspection revealed that the
front of Farnsworth’s coat and trousers
were smeared with blood. His hands
were red with gore.
Retracing their steps from the cellar
door in the kitchen to the spot where
the man’s body lay, the officers saw
with the flashlights a_ thin trail of
blood that evidently had dripped from
his clothing as he came up from the
basement. At the body, the bloody
path stopped. {
“Well, it looks like murder and sui-
cide, all right,” Miller commented.
“But we better not touch anything
until the Coroner gets here.”
While they waited for Coroner Wil-
liam Smith of Olean the group of offi-
cers gathered in the kitchen, where
they shivered in the clammy chill of
the house and conversed in low tones.
Carlson recalled the match that had
made the dead man and woman man
and wife less than a year before. Mrs.
which Bernice and Harold Farnsworth hoped
lives—and where their bodies were found
Farnsworth had been Bernice Kenyon,
a brilliant girl in her school days, who
had dreamed of a career as a writer.
After her graduation from high school
she had tried free-lance writing for a
time, then attended a commercial
school in Salamanca, New York, where
she lived with her family. Finally she
had taken a position with a young
lawyer, Orla Black, who later became
Cattaraugus County Judge. She con-
tinued in his employ after his elevation
to the bench and for fifteen years had
been the official court stenographer at
the sessions of County Court at Little
Valley.
1 eeabled those years marriage had
seemed farthest from her thoughts.
True, she had many male admirers,
but beyond casual friendships, men did
not seem to interest Bernice Kenyon.
Then Harold Farnsworth had entered
her life, She was 47 years old at: the
time. But time had been kind to her.
Her hair was unstreaked with gray
and her now mature, womanly figure
39
_
Banish Fear i KNOW THE AMAZING TRUTH
Prevent Diverse
tnd Selt Denial ABOUT SEX AND LOVE!
Ta
AO OSS
Secrets Daningly Revealed
é Ug
WAY with false modesty!
At last a famous doctor has told all the secrets
of sex in frank, daring language. No prudish
beating. about the bush, no veiled hints, but
TRUTH, blazing through 576 pages ©
straightforward facts.
Love is the most magnificent ecstasy in the
world ... know how to hold your loved one
. » « don’t glean half-truths from unreliable
sources. Now you can know how to end
ignorance... fear... and self denial!
MORE THAN 100 VIVID PICTURES
The 106 illustrations leave little to the imagina-
tion. . . know how to overcome physical mismat-
ing... know what to do on your wedding night to
avoid the torturing result of ignorance,
Everything pertaining to sex is discussed in dar-
ing language. All the things you have wanted to
know about your sex life, information about which
other books only vaguely hint, is yours at last.
Some will be offended by the amazing frankness
of this book and its vivid illustrations, but the world
has no longer any use for prudery and false modesty.
You want to know... and you should know every-
sais about sex, Sex is no longer a sin...a@ mystery
... It is your greatest power for happiness, You owe
it to yourself... to the one he love, to tear aside
the curtain of ‘hypocrisy and learn the naked truth
Knowledge is the basis of the perfect, Lied (Us
love-life . . . end ignorance, fear and danger ayl
Money back if you are not completely satisfied!
What Every Man and
Woman Should Know
Secrets of the Hone
pe ent ‘Marriage
joy’ je lating
herd Se Allow’, iM Lover berth
Intima’ feminine
Prostitution —
State A
When Ordering
FORMERLE
jexual Slave
of
Essentials of happy Marriage
FRE PIONEER PUBLICATIONS, INO,
Dept. 326, 1270 Sixth Ave., New York, N.Y.
Please send mo, “Eugenics and Sex Har-
Key mony” in plain wrapper. I will ay. the
por] age $2.98 (plus postage) on delivery,
CONTROL ff I am not completely satisfied, I can re-
bacts t the book and the entire purchase price
will be refunded immediately. Also
Fino me FREE CH. . ir on
“New Birth Control Facts.
Gro Facts’ gives
trol Factal’ Elves Name. .oee eececcers
riods of the
Rhyt AdArEG8. occ vervessncccese AMO. o-
tay paste Foreign Orders 15 Shillings in Advance
The Next Issue of
ACTUAL
DETECTIVE
STORIES
of Women in Crime
Will Be on Sale
Wednesday, March 9
Trail of the "True Love" Killer
(Continued from Page 40)
By the middle of the afternoon,
finger-print experts from the Sheriff's
office and the State Police had gone
through the house, but had found no
prints except those of the slain couple.
The bloody axe-handle bore nothing
but blurred smears, apparently made
by gloves. And the revolver handle
likewise was free of any such help to
the investigators. The registration
number of the Farnsworth car was
quickly obtained at the office of the
County Clerk and the license number
broadcast throughout the East.
Carlson and Miller were at a loss
to ascribe a motive for the crime. It
did not appear to be a sex case, as
the woman had not been attacked. And
robbery seemed improbable. But after
a day of questioning neighboring farm-
ers and friends of the couple, they
discovered that little was known of
the activities of the Farnsworths since
they had occupied the farm. They
kept mostly to themselves, going into
Little Valley or Salamanca only when
they needed supplies. At their bank it
was learned their last milk check had
been deposited when they were in
pie at least a week before the mur-
ers,
Another check would not be due for
nearly three weeks. They had no other
source of income from the farm in
Winter. Carlson learned from the bank
that they made deposits of most of
their income regularly, so it appeared
that they were not in the habit of
keeping large sums of money in the
house. This eliminated the theory that
robbery was the motive.
“What, then,” the officers asked
themselves, “was the reason for such
a brutal crime?”
Carlson and Miller returned to the.
County Jail office in Little Valley after
a day of fruitless work investigating
leads and picking up the slenderest of
clews, which led them only up blind
alleys. Without a clear motive for the
crime and with the background of the
couple obscured as it had been since
their marriage, almost shrouded in
mystery, there seemed to be nothing
tangible on which they could put their
hands that might lead to the killer.
As they came into the warm outer
room of the offices, stamping the snow
from their feet and removing their
coats, Sheriff Carlson appeared grim
and determined. Both men showed the
effects of hours of work without sleep.
For a moment they stood over a
whistling radiator, warming their
numb hands. Finally Miller spoke:
“I’ve been wondering, Les, if this
Farnsworth could have had some en-
emy who came back out of his old
life, found where he was living; and
did this job for revenge or to pay
off some old score for a double-cross,
killing Mrs. Farnsworth in the bargain
when she interfered and maybe at-
tempted to save her husband’s life.”
“That’s an idea, at least,” Carlson
admitted. “I had thought of it, but his
of FOREIGN and AMERICAN BEAUTIES
The most revealing ALBUM ever offered,
contains more than 100 DIFFERENT AND
“unusual FIGURE PHOTOS of the
REALIFE PHOTOS, Dept, M.A.1, P, 0. Box 120, Times Squa:
Enclosed find 25¢ (coin). Send me your album containing over 106 R—ENCLOSED FIND $1--SEND
photos—O!
ME YOUR ALBUM AND FIVE ACTUAL 8x10 GLOSSY PHOTOS OF ART MODELS.
é ALBUM- OR SEND ONLY $1
D5 oF ART MODELS
worlds most beautiful girls
Send only for this beautiful
FOR ALBUM AND FIVE ALLUR-
ING 8x10 FIGURE PHOTOS
Roe aa mie aula
eeeee se eeeerccooceceeooreseres:
record is pretty long and covers sev~
eral states, so where would we begin
checking up?”
Miller was thoughtful. “Well, maybe
a check of his prison companions and
pals would give us a lead.”
After a moment Carlson readily
agreed with the idea.
“We'll begin at Clinton Prison,
where he was last confined,” he said,
picking up the telephone on his desk.
He gave the telephone operator a num-
ber and waited. Shortly a voice was
on the other end of the wire. Identify-
ing himself, the Sheriff briefly told the
listener at the up-state prison what he
wanted.
When the conversation was at an
end, he said: “O. K. Call me back
when F ge have something.” He hung
up and put in a similar call for both
Sing Sing and Auburn prisons.
While they were waiting a deputy
came in and‘told them he had found
a creamery worker who remembered
that, several weeks before, Farnsworth
had driven up with milk one morning
with a stranger in his car, The man
had helped him unload the cans but
had said nothing and returned to his
place in the front seat while Farns-
worth conversed a short time with the
manager.
But no one remembered the passen-
ger clearly, nor could they give even
a passing description of him.
The manager admitted he thought it
strange Farnsworth had not appeared
with milk for five days, but finally
decided the farmer was selling his
milk elsewhere and said nothing about
it. \
Ira Bennttt, the deputy said, also re~
membered that in the Fall Farnsworth
had employed a hired man to help him
harvest a small crop of hay for Winter
feeding. But the man had not remained
long, he thought, and he had seen him
around only a few times, and then
at a distance as he passed the Farns-
worth place.
FROM every source it appeared the
slain couple had been alone since
December at least—three months
prior to the murders. F
While the men were talking, the
telephone rang and Carlson eagerly
reached for the instrument. “Hello,”
he said, “this is Sheriff Carlson.” He
listened, asked a few questions, then
glumly hung up with a curt “Thanks”
and a finality that suggested com-
plete failure.
“No one has been released from
Clinton that Farnsworth was friendly
with since he got out,” he admitted.
“They said he always was aloof and
kept. pretty much to himself during
his five-year stay there. Had nothing
much to do with the other prisoners.”
Miller showed his disappointment at
the result of the call. Finally he got
up and walked across the room, re-
marking as he went toward the coat
rack that some of the other institutions
might be more productive. Then he
stopped and, turning, snapped his fin-
gers:
“Say, you remember that contrap-
tion they used on the back of the car
to carry milk cans in—the one we
found up the road in the snowdrift
‘that had been dumped there during the
storm?”
Carlson remembered.
“Well, come to think of it, that
thing was attached to the frame of
Farnsworth’s automobile with a couple
of trick bolts that would be hard for
a stranger to find or know how to
operate if they were not familiar with
it. Now, I figure that if the murderer
drove away in that car, as he must
have, he probably wanted to get rid of
that milk rack in a hurry, didn’t he?”
Carlson nodded approval, alive with
interest now to what Miller was saying.
“You noticed that the rack was not
broken, as a stranger probably would
have broken it ripping it off in his rush
to get away, but it had been removed
in the secular way, those two little nuts
Bay
fh NOG
World’s Greatest Collecti
Strange & Secret Photog!
Now you can travel round the wo
the most daring adventurers. You
with your own eyes, the weirdest pe:
earth. You witness the strangest cus
the red, white, brown, black and yello
You attend their startling rites, the
terious practices. They are all assem
ou in these five great volumes
ECRET MUSEUM OF MANKIND.
600 LARGE PAGES
Here is the World’s Greatest Coll
Strange and Secret Photographs. 1
Exotic Photos from Europe, Harem
from Africa, Torture Photos, Female
Marriage Photos from Asia, Ocea
America, and hundreds of others. 7
almost 600 LARGE PAGES of Str:
Secret Camera Shots, each page 6:
inches in size!
1,000 REVEALING PHOT
You see actual love and courtship
in every quarter of the wor id. Yous
and mystery in queer lands where th
a white man has rarely trod. You see
modes of love and female slavery }
Japan, India, etc. Through the intime
camera you witness the boldest custo:
and love, and the secret ceremonies
strained men and women. You are bew
ONE THOUSAND LARGE PHOTO
including 130 full-page close-ups, andt
the hundreds of short stories that desc:
Contents of 5-Volume ‘
Volumo 1—The Secret Album of Af
Volume 2—The Secret Album of Ev
Volume 3—The Secret Album of As
Volume 4—The Secret Album of An
Volume 5—The Secret Album of Oc
5 PICTURE-PACKED YOLI
The BECRET MUSEUM OF MANKIN
of five picture-packed volumes (solidly
gether fpr convenient reading). Dip into
these vdlumes, and as you turn its daring
find it difficult to tear yourself a
and uncensored photo, is the %
EST COLLECTION OF STRAY
PHOTOGRAPHS, containing e
male Beauty Round the World |
fous Culta and Love Customs, ‘:nese uu
hundreds of large pages will give you
nights of thrilling instruction.
Specimen Photos
SEND NO MONEY
Simply sign & mail the coupon. Remembe
S Volumes is 9¥@ inches high, and opened
wide! ‘Remember also that this 5-Volume
sold for $10. And it is bound in expensive
cloth, Don’t put this off, Fill out the co
in the next mail,
and receive this huge ¥
For THE Compuete ‘
VoLUME SET -
2 .) CARA
TTTrititiiti
| METRO PUBLICATIONS,
70 Sth Ave., Dept. 6503A, New York
Send me “The Secret Museum of
5 large volumes bound together). I wil
man $1.98, plus postage on arrival. If
I am not delighted, I will return the bo
i
5 will refund my $1.98. (No foreign orde
| this !
a
a
at low price!)
Name ...++ eevereesoeee:
AAAresS wocccvceee
a Clty ccrccccececcccceccvecees Sta:
Mi [7] cuEck HERE, if you are enclo:
| | thus saving the mailing costs.
case weak-
heory and
very as the
(rs. Farns-
‘arnsworth. .
haps a man
in prison
living ‘and
the idea of
‘kmail idea .
use Farns-
either from
n the com-
as the pos-
left his car
riff, Carlson.
ieck every
vicinity.
the labora-
taken from
h’s finger-
; of human
sles of skin
‘oved they
lition, there
on the face
3 seemed to
sworth had
1 shot him-
vould go to
y and learn
ivered milk
1 of nearby
sed on the
- had been
atten rid of
quickly as
had raged
ble slaying
»y the mur-
ke a phan-
re divided
ing to the
lunting for
itform and
is deputies
the Farns-
stioning: of
relatives of
the home.
were ex-
it no clues.
rice Farns-
d appeared
Sarnsworth
e had been
n them.
Salamanca
3 found the
unts were
d wife and
ade except ~
ills. In fact,
d been seen
mth.
id Carlson
‘arnsworths
mn the farm
did have a
‘vest but he
1, leaving in
:arned only
3 milk regu-
ponse to a
udered if a
‘ed in the
said he did
ccompanied
view of the
overly much
it in an ap-
Lieutenant
ht ey
asain Teas ined Pee Sc
RISES et
ao
. farm, were mor
eorge,. after»
long the highy
ing through deep snow along the roa
description of the one Fafnsworth used
- on the back ofvhis car for hauling milk.
n ¢. Farnsworth’
e fortunate. While. pw
'. shoulder, they finally came upon'a small
' platform that seerhed to,answer Bennett's
But the car itself was nowhere to be
found, It had-not been seen in =e garage
in the rural section or even in Salamanca,
Little Valley or Olean. v0 Nae
Back in the’ sheriff’s office in Little
Valley, the investigators met to compare
notes. Except for the disappearance of
the car, and the fingernail scrapings,
there still was a remote possibility the /
case was one of murder and suicide. ;
But Sheriff Carlson and Miller were
not yet ready to give up. It was Miller
who suggested the
the prison where Farnsworth was last
confined and learn if any other prisoner
with whom he might have been friendly,
or some man who might have borne him a
grudge, had been released during the year
and a half Farnsworth had been free on
, parole, Raat panes ;
So a telephone call to Clintori Prison,.
at Dannemora, N. Y., was put through
_ and a couple of hours later they had their
communicate with ,
answer. There had been no one released.
for more than’a year who knew Farns-
worth, as far as the warden or guards
there knew. Another lead, that. had held:
out/some hope’ to, the investigators, had»
proved fruitless. eas
‘Back at the: creamery Miller’ again
questioned the manager with no further
results than he had obtained | at. first.
About to leave; he noticed a young fellow
he had not seen before cleaning one of
the. big vats where the dairymen emptied
_ their milk from cans, He called him over.
“You work around here regularly?” he
asked,
The youth shook his head. “No,” he
said, “just when they need some extra
help. I live over there,’ pointing’ to.a
farm house a half mile away, “and when
they want me, they send over.”
“You remember Harold Farnsworth?”
Miller then asked. “The fellow the
found dead in his-house a few days ago?”
The lad nodded affirmatively. “Sure,
He’s the fellow who killed his wife the
shot himself, ain’t he?”
’ Miller ignored the question,
“When was the last.time you remem-
ber seeing him?” . Be.
i ne ‘ |
HE fellow ‘thought a minute, then res
plied :“Oh, a long time ago. It must -
have been early in the fall.”
“Was there anyone with him?”
Again the youth. hesitated. “Seems to.
me there was.”
(“Think carefully,” Miller urged: “May-
‘be you can help us solve this case. We ©
think maybe both Mr, and Mrs, Farns-
worth. were murdered. Remember any-
thing about him... anything persona
what he looked like... anything unusual
in his appearance?”
“Well,” the youth said, “now that you
mention it, I do recall he had tattoos on
his fingers. I saw it when he cupped his
hands to light a cigaret. The words -
‘True Love’ were’ tattooed across the
backs of his fingers; one letter on each
finger,” .
Miller was elated but he wondered: how
the creamery hand had come to remem
ber all this, so he asked him. :
» “Well, he seemed friendly and I asked
why he had, that tattooed on his hands.
He said it was to remember a girl friend
* of his.” ; A
The youth’s description of the Farns-
€
it he was\)
vetify the |’
he latter |
- With that’ Miller started’ back tothe
county seat at Little Valley witha feel-
ing that here was a lead that might well
‘turn out worth while.. Arriving at the
sheriff’s office, he told Carlson what he
had discovered,, «. ' ;
“Now that we have something definite
to go on, let’s call Dannemora again and
see if they ever have had a prisoner with
such a tattoo on his fingers,” he said.
( The call was, putving ¢ 6 8)
Late that afternoon the phone rang in
Sheriff: Carlson’s office, It was the war-
den at Clinton Prison. . ‘
“We found your’ man,” he said. “We
released an Alfred Lindsey the same day
Farnsworth was freed. According to his
identification records he had: the words
‘True’ Love’ tattooed across the backs
of his fingers. One of.the guards remem-
bers that he and Farnsworth were in the -
same cellblock and that they seemed to
be: ftiendly.”) 4). yatta
/ Thanking the warden, after getting a
-complete description of Lindsey, and re-
questing a picture,,Carlson hung up and
turned to Miller, ©) ..: Ms
“That may be our man and it may not
be, but at least we-have a lead now on
which ‘to go to work. It was quite a while
ago the creamery ‘Helper remembers see-
ing the fellow, but it could, be that he
came back after learning where Farns-
worth was living and tried to get. him
to join in some robbery, around :here,
Then;: when Farnsworth: refused, or if
Bernice learned about: it, and interfered,
he might have returned, tried to forcé
Farnsworth into, something crooked, ‘and
when he failed, got in a fight and killed
them bothi) (vat 7) hoy te
Immediately an alarm was put out for
Lindsey. His description and home ad-
dress was broadcast by State Police tele-
type. But a checkup showed the man had
not beeri seen around his home since his
release from prison and that he had not
reported to his parole officer for seven
months, ‘
Two relatives of the man who lived in
New York City told police that Alfred
Lindsey had visited them a week before,
asking for money, and telling them he
was going to Florida. They gave him a
small sum and he left. They had,not seen
him since,..,.0 0 Reena
On top/of this break, the missing car,
‘for which an. alarm?.had been sent out,
was picked up by New York City police
_abandoned in front,of a restaurant.
Circumstances. tow. pointed. strongly
to. Lindsey as the’ man,-wanted, but he
' had vanished. New. York detectives were
on the alert for himy and the tp state area
with which’ he was: familiar,, was being
watched closely by the state troopers. .
However, the Cattaraugus County of-
ficers did not have long to wait..A couple
of days later, on March 11, Lindsey. was
picked up ina New York City, restau-
rant. His tattooed fingers were the tip-
off.
At first he denied his identity: Then,
when confronted with his prison record,
firigerprints and other identifying marks,
he admitted who he’ was. But when ac-
cused: of the double murder, Lindsey in-
sisted he had not been :in up:state New
York nor seen Farnsworth, whom he
knew as Harry Race, since they left Clin-
ton Prison on the same day.
But taken back to Cattaraugus
County and the lonely: farmhouse of
‘death in Coldspring Township, whére he.
was questioned again, he finally” broke
44 aE >. 5 ee ee
.
Bn ote
wir
eiey 3% yy is
“down and confessed to the double mur-
der after an examination of his | skin
proved it to be the same as the particles
found under the dead woman’s finger-
nails.
He said he had learned a year before
where Farnsworth lived and had gone
to him and asked him for help. Farns-
worth needed a man to help him with
the harvest and had hired him for a
month. During that time he had attemp-
ted to become friendly with Bernice
Farnsworth, but she did not like him and
had urged her husband to discharge him.
She was fearful, Lindsey said, that he
would attempt to influence her husband
to return to a life of crime. -
HINALLY, when the harvest was over,
Farnsworth had told him he must go.
There was a dispute over the money due
him and a fight, in which Farnsworth had
knocked him down and told him to go
away and stay away or he would report
him to the police.
Lindsey left, going to Salamanca
where he worked in a’ restaurant for
awhile, Finally he decided to go back
to Farnsworth’s’ farm and try and ob-
tain the rest of the money he felt was
. due him, He said he had no intention of
harming anyone or robbing the Farns-
worths, but just wanted the remainder
of the money he had earned so he could
et to New York City where he had
riends.
On arriving at the Farnsworth place,
he said he found Mrs. Farnsworth alone
when he walked into the kitchen without
Knocking. She was on the way down the
. cellar steps, apparently.to get vegetables
for the noon-day meal.,
At first she thought it was her hus-
band, but when she discovered it was
Lindsey, she became furious and threat-
ened to call the state troopers if he did
not go away. :
This he pretended to do and then
sneaked up behind her in‘the cellar and
attempted to kiss her. She struggled and
started to scratch his face. He saw the
ax standing against the wall, grabbed
it and hit her. He ‘said he did not remem-
ber striking her more than the one time.
Then he went upstairs and started
looking for money. While he was in the
bedroom, trying to open the metal box
in which he knew they kept a small sum
for emergencies, he heard Farnsworth
enter the: house.
- Seeing a revolver in the bureau drawer,
he picked it up and tiptoed down the
stairs. As Farnsworth came into the liv-
ing room and saw him standing there,
~ he shot once, the bullet piercing Farns-
worth’s heart. He said Farnsworth never
knew his wife had been murdered.
Lindsey said it was snowing hard when
he drove away in Farnsworth’s car. Real-
’ izing that the milk can platform might
cause suspicion among farmers, he
stopped, unfastened-it and tossed it at
the side of the road. He then drove to
New York where he abandoned the car
after reading in the paper that the police
were looking for it.
A week later Lindsey was indicted for
murder. He was tried in Cattaraugus
County, convicted and sentenced to be
executed in Sing Sing Prison.
Four months later, Alfred Lindsey was
executed for the murders of Harold and
Bernice Farnsworth, in the electric chair
in Sing Sing. °
So ended the final chapter to the story
Bernice Kenyon Farnsworth wanted to
write, but which closed for her in a
double vengeance murder over a fancied
short payment for work.
59
si Nt es OP a SN SIE Oram ‘
nu
Shory of ¢
The crime for which > a
\hus circenetbotieliy ¢
Pr Prema 4 Golvin wes a nea anaes arin
ratte. Be SINAN Stthoos febetira © i
oat friewdh. Be livet cefare the war tre life
of « hormitio ps bat which be bat erecta! iy #
the town of Van Rares. | hr
My worked Bard, ber th«
caved agniut >)! age
eort attracted bia wit
pehare Crom Gio war 4 orn
ny Miekent, Vitel Qoiwon
1 abantuding bis Be the
The
latter rowed is traps and @temsile fo che
tor mer’ s he Sameng bis botedbokd frp.
| wheats wene ¢ dose Gu tea-aqewns tit of
pwbicn be b> Mre Pirkerd pnt ine of
whiek be al «carried oa hae pero fem
tiéein wer @ man of
ne wep such ® mab af we
He bef but 1a persane pe
pe Gee twee pall of soci
wore jcoonte. Theat be
ader tre w bow bard gap
the winter! bo borkpw
y
ared to difeg ft apbr»
oe oF et wt
deoe rgnt we.
wakdr,'¢T go and rene: aval Hywel on lew yer
in, Badd wines ie, coli ung ett (pivis aathiget it
thine |” 4
To whieh Linden: she eurs thi t woe. &
thakt they wesuid tere im Babtehice cle Gat
sas mAh odvur
Te e
be pons le
During ex comversatiim Heys 3 a+
wank homme --elber Ceol te Ghee thet niget
They separaeed apd cewh went rie ow
peter
THE BOY Cow ow rHe
Monthg rolied 6o Wigter het tontied mg
ing, Ghdeprieg ha! riggnet sn) sirmaouw
The maottigage mad the rage’ bed been thyme
of! te adepichon Was puget No ne partial
Coben, Tt wae geueraliy sop ‘Sithvet | That
be was at work in poe se abuse!
in domg $e eee
Lrnm deny fiat A Stme. O14 tere Wun,
tem, rembdetite af Babtacines fy fore
ja the Hemera river, slau giv iol ea bal |
weet of the village, Teey wore patent Ome
Of thems tle redred sucething im the eaten |
oh hopked ire noe asi phot way They
Grew meaer to iM. amet found that if erniteed «|
Aro MA They furieme! to tant ont bene
This thay (and §) be |
qepopsiide, avi they rete dei fy Gee village ami
tiled Bey ain deride Vo hge the wine mee |
nemght We the sbere. ww Poni Ube) tf ten
her Hd? rer Ube bead were tore tempe |
toand i piece by « bay sirapy. Sbn
® OCR 7. jhe ood ofBberign 0 hers mein
ted ev depity clipped the lige were ietnd to
ethew bylamritew wtray, te elect wee abterh
od a very vy ‘one it wee the whigae of
ste tee meyd@ the bo ly upright in the whe:
ter Whee wie bapa ous uepovared it wae dgapd
theta (ty
that the sufi had bean crughed't, Then hed
otdently been 2 perder o« Who wins
ye mary hained avai t 4
} ‘taawtirep, - |
The fomtares wege uarqragripgtié from cde.
prestiqn The porkate ip the mothing aloes
‘Leaks L would. at
agitated Hie whole dupe
ate & be intends,
ARABATED,
ee Oe b Payee Rigrtcp bet s neet
rer wes Originally piven to Prancs A
Poyue temaght it ot Digg >
one Veter wan sontle to account te
thm of Hh satinfacteeity oa the
¢ ee Vebw wax serecied apt
pared im the HKaliwin« ithe up
The key Wee Bureed oo: \orter at about
one o'decd | Withte fifteen minuws after
warris ()wegs Landany ems atcnrt tye ring after
big amt aeying: ‘Tam afraid taey hare not
qotthe rigtt gap: Deane Pak @ the maa |
At hin time, Vader and Lindsay hed not com
@igeated etth cack uther gince the former «
arret. Mattes ren slung. The chain of oti
device egninkt Vater was stenvgthies ng every
teceneet, Fhasit¢ Limdeny cunftemed that be
Velev edd tha they band grot. tne
said; *' Vode. hae gt into_» pace
veilh tell the tjntyy Jeans a0 ha, acid ‘when be tills
e you WIR Gad Ped ie the ren netyed bit
to do it, Aefegr vila Nader, fet-cageiaod
the trot, thik ny wer “ine bightyldes,’’ (tid
a coptention. Jum os Lipdery mild he
po be jepticeied Duses Pek, Pack oo
avreted. Fie conltoated Vader and made a
Rartous pier éa him. .; Vader comtuanet
Chant hee fem Wes falee,) He tad:
+f peamwpet TI woukt aot. {J dea't pegs:
i dont wamtb> Saul.
sf, if @ tg pight Chat | shocid, | must diy |
tint Uae mas rity Ulli tie decd wap wen Lit
“iri shel de Vedder, at) yap lag te om tb
spy MOET he
i gepuury der} i Tysons
nemmegen §
ay th 0
Hy font
wv ;
: Dndmdage county,
ibe alt whe sre in nme,
stp plead at have the
, | cont. which be brings, wail in which they sna, |
4D teahd portgngés and thier notes: Lindsay gives |
J the Bare: ibedieay
Mt tor Saab Veet ahid| slew the. ma Bor
Corin, With o alight
es cand then,
ae ma: yeni.
They find a.gocket back with about $7.10) in
ven Viator’ five ome hun:
4 preps Kinds gives
dollar bits wod-tmepsithe balance.” Lind:
‘ey pends Vader into Ybe douse ¢ Caren:
the mortgages and twp fdien to Vj
foo bearbniphe gach!
tor, baying + This te a,
thie; wushall | ]
Thien
with Unda
8 with) sera
-Metlor Meapa protreti
ts @ will wok toe Col.
fot @ job?” Teen bb pad
way: Neder ve
Suri to the: Roune,
hy it dewa to.
Sort: Gove. Sf Be bas gome {othe olny ty loot!
rt fotud. Landay menting ite tis foot am |
he is victim: to wife hidtens Mh i
q i ot
Shen they: searv® thie pedhiies se ikiel ald.
tim: They find two watches, Menb-thke ons.
senna hi Owe. sie 1
we eaten de |
; Phere ba bios si 4
pthahithey wif be tout |
ena fanteag cosy by. <8 When father}
nl “Sotelo do wn
¥ van, "rallies ‘he Pity to: oom | |
breakfast, pli each bhiich Livoednn y andor |!
os a el es: 9%
ona ie
LOZADO, Eulogio, Philippino, elec. NYSP (New York), July 24, 1924.
“...the victim was Miss Blossom Martin, nurse and admitted sweetheart of Benjamin
Mandel, married and a father. The murder of the nurse broke up a love nest maintained by
Mandel for the last two years. Jealousy was the cause of the crime, police say - the jealousy of
an undersized Filipino whose attentions the woman spurned. The man, Eulogia Lozado, house-
man at the residence of dr. G. W. McAuliffe, Miss Martin’s employer, was arrested by police
while they say he was trying to dispose of the woman’s body at Mariner’s Harbor, Staten Island.
The body showed that Miss Martin had been strangled to death. Lozado is said to have told
police that he killed the woman after an argument over marriage in which she is believed to have
spurned him, Mandel has admitted to authorities that he and the slain woman had occupied a love
nest and at times he had posed as ‘Mr. Martin.’ He is said to have warned the doctor that the
Filipino was a menace to Miss Martin’s safety because of his jealousy. Mandel is the son and
partner of Israel Mandel, wealthy shoe manufacturer.”
Arkansas Gazette, Little Rock, AR, 6/15/1923.
124 Northeastern 907 (Memorandum).
dui WO YUsS (Memo)
LOZADO, Elugio, Filipino, electrocuted Hing Sing (New York) on July 2h, 192,
"New York, June 9, 1923-Jealousy over the friendship of Blossom Martin, his sweetheart,
with a married man, led hém to strangle her in the home of the doctor where both were
employed, Elugio Lozada, a Filipino houseman, tohd the police today, ihe married man,
whose name was nov divulged, held the district attorney had had known the young girl for
more Uthaf’two years, during which time, he said, she had frequent quarrels with Loaado
because she would not give up his friendship, The dapper, undersized Filipino was
arrested in Staten Island early today as he bore the body, wrapped in a bundle much
heavier than himself, to a place of concealment in New Jersey. In his confession, he
Said his jealous rage had centered on the dead girl's contention that he was financially
unable to support a wife and nerved him to strangle her when she refused to listen to
his pleadings last night, With detectives looking on, Lozado reenacted his crime in
the doctor's home and showed how he had bundled the body, jack-knife fashion, in two
pertieres and heavy paper, ‘hen, always carrying his heavy burden in his arms, he tra-
veled by taxicab and ferry to the Elizabethport ferry on Staten Island, where the strain
began to tell and he was forced to ask a chauffeur to help him, His suspicions aroused,
the chauffeur called a policeman, who arrested Lozado just as he tried to toss his human
burden into the river, ‘the Filipino fought fiercely for five minutes before he was
subdued. Lozado was employed as a houseman by Dr. G. B, McAuliffe, where the Martin gir
also worked as an office attendant, She was formerly of lroy and was 22-years-old, Her
friends told the police that Lozado had threatened her life several times, once with a
revolver,"
AGE HERALD, Birmingham, Ala,, June 10, 1923,
"New York City, June 10, 1923 = Crying for execution as punishment for his deed, Elugio
Lozado, Philippine houseman, was taken to West Side Court today for arraignment on a
charge of strangling to death his sweetheart, Blossom Martin, Despite his plea for
quick action, his case was postponed until tomorrow morning, Lozado, arrested at
“lizahethport, Staten Island, when he attempted to cast the body, which he had bundled
into a pair of portieres, into the river, was haggard and worn when taken from his cell
this morning, He had paced his cell throughout the; day, unable to close his ears to the
jeers and curses heaped upon him by other prisoners in the same tier, Yesterday, Lozado
told police he had killed Miss Martin with his bare hands, He said to have confessed to
Uhem that he became angry because Miss Martin told him she did not think he was able to
Support a wife, and because he was jealous of her friendship with a married man,"
AGE HERALD, June 1l, 1923,
LOZADO, HKulogia,
Phi
1., elec. N¥ (NY County) 7-24-1924,
FILIPINO TAKEN, ABOUT TO
~ HACKED BODY
URL
OF GIRL Ih RIVER
Says He is Butler for Doctor and Woman Was Nursd | Bloo
s House and Murder Thought Done {There}!
Filipino Was Lover of Victim pereess tty
in Doctor’
‘
I Blood Found
NEWYORK, June 8.—Standing ‘on
a dark.and lonely Staten Island: pier,
Blizeo de Lozea, a Filipino, was seized
by a ‘police sergeant tonight as he
was about to hurl a package contain-
ing the. body ‘of: a young: white wom-
an into the Kill Van Kull, which
separates Staten Island. and ! New’
Jersey.
The body, knife: hacked wrapped in
newspapers, had “*been broughti from
Manhattan on a ferryboat to St. George
ferry, police said and taken from;there
in a taxi-cab to Mariners’ - harbor,
about eight miles away. The young
woman, a. blonde about 30 year, old,
had ,been strangled to death.
The prisoner, police sald, refused to],
answer| many questions,” but finally
told them he’ was a porter and ° that
both he and,the girl had been em-,
ployed in’a doctor's office in Man-
hattan. Police said he admitted he had
intended to dump the body ‘overboard:
o.. the trip from,’Manhattan, but was
prevented, from doing:so hy the large
number of passengers. , rg
Manhattan police went to the 87th
street addres& given by: de Lozea as
his hems. pi no one there knew him
It was said no. Filipinos lived there...
The prisoner finally said the’ wom-
an was a nurse and that her name
was Blossom Martin. © aan Fabs
Inside the newspapers her body was
wrapped in a -green portierre, police
said. oe
‘was found -in a bedroom on ‘the,
floor\ which | Dr. McAuliffe “said . the,
The chauffeur of the taxi-cab, af-
ter he had: been discharged by Lozade
reported: to police tha he had helped
the Filipino place, th ‘bundle in. the
cab. He said‘he become. suspicious
when he felt: what .se med to.be soft
flesh inside the: pack gee es!
Dr. G. B. McAuliffe: was being aques-
tioned by police early ‘today concerning
the death of Miss: Blgssom Martin, a
no one was permitted to ‘leaye.
vAt,sthe. conélusion’ of. the questioning,
in- Dr. McAuliffe’s -home, ‘police, said
they , believed ‘Miss; Martin had. “been
murdered in his house. A blood .spot
oe
Filipino butler occupied and two green
prtierres were ¥Vmissing , from a room
in another ‘part: of ‘the. house.’ The
nurse’s body;* when v;examined,: “was
wrapped ‘ina green -portle rés7 et <7
Eliusgo Lozade, the butl r, and.Miss
Martin had been, loyers, Dr.. MgAuliffe
told: the police. Lobade, whois $1
years old; had; been ‘in the. “doctor's
employ for about, two ‘years. Miss
Martin, who ‘did not,live/ in’ the house
had worked for the doctor about fou
years he said. la aie aes Ke eae, a
t¢
0!
et ate
tee
14), NE 907 (Memo)
LOZADO, Elugio, Filipino, electrocuted Ning Sing (New York) on July 2), 192).
"New York, June 9, 1923-Jealousy over the friendship of Blossom Martin, his sweetheart,
with a married man, led hém to strangle her in the home of the doctor where both were
employed, Elugio Lozada, a Filipino houseman, tobd the police today, ‘the married man,
whose name was not divulged, held the district attorney had had known the young girl for
more thaf’ two years, during which time, he said, she had frequent quarrels with Loaado
because she would not give up his friendship, The dapper, undersized Filipino was
arrested in Staten Island early today as he bore the body, wrapped in a bundle much
heavier than himself, to a place of concealment in New Jersey. In his confession, he
said his jealous rage had centered on the dead girl's contention that he was financially
unable to support a wife and nerved him to strangle her when she refused to listen to
his pleadings last night, With detectives looking on, Lozado reenacted his crime in
the doctor's home and showed how he had bundled the body, jack-knife fashion, in two
pertieres and heavy paper, ‘hen, always carrying his heavy burden in his arms, he tra-
veled by taxicab and ferry to the Elizabethport ferry on Staten Island, where the strain
began to tell and he was forced to ask a chauffeur to help him, His suspicions aroused,
the chauffeur called a policeman, who arrested Lozado just as he tried to toss his human
burden into the river, The Filipino fought fiercely for five minutes before he was
subdued, Lozado was employed as a houseman by Dr. Ge B, McAuliffe, where the Martin girl
also worked as an office attendant, She was formerly of Troy and was 22-years-old, Her
friends told the police that Lozado had threatened her life several times, once with a
revolver."
AGE HERALD, Birmingham, Ala., June 10, 1923,
"New York City, June 10, 1923 = Crying for execution as punishment for his deed, Elugio
Lozado, Philippine houseman, was taken to West Side Court today for arraignment on a
charge of strangling to death his sweetheart, Blossom Martin, Despite his plea for
quick action, his case was postponed until tomorrow morning, Lozado, arrested at
“)izahethport, Staten Island, when he attempted to cast the body, which he had bundled
into a pair of portieres, into the river, was haggard and worn when taken from his cell
this morning, He had paced his cell throughout the day, unable to close his ears to the
jeers and curses heaped upon him by other prisoners in the same tier, Yesterday, Lozado
told police he had killed Miss Martin with his bare hands, He said to have confessed to
them that he became angry because Miss Martin told him she did not think he was able to
support a wife, and because he was jealous of her friendship with a married man,"
AGE HERALD, June 11, 1923,
Lozavo, Culegic wekw, pty / 7/24// 744
inistry that it was a mat-
apers should be returned
wrong hands, a catas-
Pushing a button on my
my sttbordinates to the
ons to make inquiries.
uted anxiously for their
ing and one of my de-
d a man who stated he
he President’s car as it
tion and was told that
€ was about thirty years
age, very handsome
d expensively dressed—
rther, she carried a small
‘ffon. (dog) with her.
anging up the receiver,
closed my eyes and al-
ved to pass before my
nsciousness all the no-
‘ious women who might
swer to this description.
ddenly a sort of intui-
n came to me, and tak-
‘ up a house telephone
requested the Record
partment to send me
dossier of the sen-
ced spy, Johann Korp.
ten a clerk brought this
pened the green-cov-
der and there be-
ny eyes was an
rit picture of the
's beautiful wife. As
ized at her classic fea-
2s I realized that here
» the woman who had
i. the Président’s port-
{vy brain working swift-
[ viewed the situation.
y would she want the
ers of the President?
er for one of two
ns: to transmit what
contained to the ene-
or for the purpose of
‘ing Monsieur Poin-
's signature. The first
new to be extremely
<ely, as it had been
ed that Johann Korp’s
had had no knowl-
of her husband’s ser-
in the pay of the ene-
Therefore it became
for some purpose, the
o me—it was possible
irder of release at the
Monsieur Poincaré’s
got in touch with the
o him my suspicions,
is well that you rang
e office here Madame
nt with an order for
[. Poincaré himself !”
| the pair and I will
ted on page 66)
To get amore accurdie jee of what the fate of Blossom ‘Martin was,
a study of the picture. of Eulogia Lozade, whose photograph appears
on the next page, may be of help ‘Note the indications in this man’s
face.
what strange fate caused their paths to cross.
his. man—what chance had she ?
The Horrible Fate of Beautiful
Blossom M artin a
By
Inspector ERNEST
VAN WAGNER
Chief of Detectives,
Staten Island
As told to
ISABEL STEPHEN
ing. Send over a patrol wagon
to bring in a prisoner I arrested
while he was attempting to, dis-
pose of a murdered woman’s body.”
This message came over the tele-
phone at ten o’clock on the night of
June 8th, 1923, just as I was on the
point of leaving the West New
Brighton Station-house. It was my
first contact with one of the most bar-
barous crimes I ever handled.
Doctor George P. Mord, deputy
medical examiner of Richmond
County, was immediately notified. He arrived almost
simultaneously with Sergeant Miller, who entered dragging
behind him a disheveled, brown-skinned, black-haired
prisoner. The Sergeant was followed by an officer carry-
ing a large bundle, and a heavy-set man wearing the cap
and badge of a taxicab driver. Projecting from’ one end
of the bundle was the silk-clad foot of a woman!
“Place the bundle on that table,’ Doctor Mord directed
the patrolman.
While the prisoner looked on stolidly, the Doctor un-
wrapped the gruesome package, which measured some two
feet by three and a half. The outer covering was of heavy,
green cloth—apparently a curtain or portiére.
First to be disclosed was the dark bobbed hair and the
head of a young woman. Blood was oozing from the nose and
mouth, as the coarse, green cloth was lifted from the face.
"Ge Se John Miller speak-
Then study the picture of the girl opposite, and ask yourself
In the clutches of
Inspector Van Wagner (wearing hat) discussing details of a case
with one of his assistants
Further’ horrors were unveiled as the unwrapping pro-
ceeded.
The body was clothed in a white linen suit such as nurses
wear, a white satin skirt and pink underwear. The girl’s
hands were tied across her breast and her feet were tied at
the ankles; her legs were flexed'on her breast. A patent-
leather pump dangled from one. foot, On the left arm was
a small gray bag containing a few coins, a lip-stick and a
silver vanity case. A nurse’s’ black cape and hat were
rolled into a compact bundle.
Blotchy discolorations covered the face, and cuts and
scratches on the hands and wrists were silent witnesses to
the desperation with which the girl had fought for her life.
On her throat were purplish bruises which plainly indi-
cated the method used in causing/death.
‘Has the prisoner told you anything?’ I asked Miller.
27
Pee ee er em omens
. Teaction which had evidently set in, >
28 True Detective Mysteries
“He pretends he doesn’t know anything,” the Sergeant’ burst of sunshine through the clouds of
replied. “He gave me a fishy story about being asked by — face lighted up with childish pride in his accomplishment.
some doctor to dispose of this body.” } In fairly legible script he wrote his name on the blank
“Who is the girl in the bundle?” I demanded of the and handed it back with a bow.
squat, sullen-faced prisoner, whose coarse, tousled_ hair, “Now, Lozade, you understand English,” I said, standing
thick, snarling lips, yellowish fangs, beady black towering over him. “The story you tell about
eyes and long, ape-like arms, made him re- a doctor giving you that bundle is not
semble a denizen of the jungle. true. You are telling lies. You are
“I dunno dat gal,” he mumbled under arrest and anything you say
in fairly intelligible English, will be used against you—but
“Where did you get that?” you may just as well tell us
the Doctor asked, point- the name of the girl.
ing to the mound of We'll find it out, any-
horror on the table, way—and then we'll
“I dunno. Man know you're lying.
give it to me.” And _ = why © should
Unemotionally he you lie unless you
regarded the killed ‘the girl
dead girl, yourself ?”
Detective This scrap
Piscopo, .who of bait, he
was on ‘night snapped at,
duty, secured “Dat igal—
a blank and Blossom. She
attempted to- nurse and
obtain an- typer. Man
swers to the who: says he
routine ques- is doctor
tions. A stub- gives me body
born silence in- Manhattan.
was the pris- He gives me
oner’s only re- money and say,
sponse, . ‘Take dat. bundle
Finding we were and put it in sewer
out of luck in ob- in, New. Jersey,’ ”
taining a “pedigree” “That’s better,” I
from the prisoner, - I : encouraged him, feign-
ordered: Piscopo to’ search’ nd “ing to believe him. “Now,
him. bai! where did you. come from
This action ‘produced a small when you got on the boat at
sheaf of bills, a woman’s diamond South Ferry ?”
ring, a receipt’ from a jewelry in- > “Uptown,” he replied evasively.
stalment firm and a business ‘man’s, . “East)or West?” I asked quietly,
card, ea » easily, The question. was put so.as
I had just instructed the lieu~ not to disturb his line of thought.
tenant on desk duty to locate the ‘‘Twenty-six-West-Eighty-
home address of the jeweler and Seyenth-Street,”. he came back
get in touch with him ‘at once, automatically, giving the address
when the telephone bell rang. (vei ic3% ed in the form of a multi-syllabled
The effect on the prisoner was startling. His ey nwhile his eyes gazed fixedly. at me,
his hands clenched and unclenched ‘spasmodicall ne. Who lives there ?”
advantage of this unexpected intervention which had’,
ceeded in breaking the stolid indifference of. our pri
after all our efforts'had failed, and signed’ to the opel
to delay plugging-in; Fe noah me be bs
As peal after peal shrilled through the dead silence which
had fallen on the room, the ‘prisoner looked vat the body of
the dead girl with a strange, questioning expression, :and
then suddenly he broke into an. explosion of \harsh,: de-
moniacal laughter. . This was succeeded by guttural and ‘un.
intelligible mutterings. not Helse als ke denen as
I crossed over to the switchboard. and told the operator, to ‘
take the call. It was some ‘unimportan matter, but it served
an important purpose... , OSE hal :
a stormy day, his
4
Eulogia Lozade,
“member of th
for his: life ~b
charge of ‘str
iy
All right,” I said to the prisone you're unde
If you don’t want to: tell us what. we, want to know,
¢
“c
get the information over the telephone/’, he etapa rf
A glaze of fear filmed the gleaming, black eyes of the half
savage | creature... ‘T) tell,’ he ® offered sel HET p72
Eulogia Lozade, my mame.’ hej fi > i
“Spell it out,” I snapped quickly, in, order. ‘sustain th
: 4 ’ Fess en aR ete ay
“Give me pencil—I write,” Like a sudden,. freakish -
“ hittey ey tat rt
His
he; e
effort to e>
him.
The pris
a body ile,
As he was
occurred t
with hims¢
and relief.
self-comn#
positive w
from then
leads.
“See if
hold of \
gested to
tive Pi
“Have hit
us at the
Ferry w:
room a
‘o'clock. ]
a@ smatter
‘every lan;
if we c:
out wha
bird is
. himself
time, Ill |
gera fF
straight
the murde
'. Ventur:
e real 1
this det
who is on
1 ie ala
m¢ }
M
unuci
character:
the Bow
_ Chinato
up and d
waterfror
picked
amazing
ledge «
guage
dialects,
develop
trick of :
at will t
acterist
many d:
a would be
i ' While
be I questi
Sergeant
Lozade’s
“T was
: the St. (
me, carr
6 how mu
me port Fer
eg dollars a
“Tt we
coverecs
weighed
offices ji
going 0\
“Jeezg
waiting
30 True Detective Mysteries
back into the slip and to get hold of the Filipino,” I saw
the Filipino make a dash for the rail, and they were. just in
time to grab him before he got rid of his load—in fact, he
had it half over when they got at him,
‘The Sergeant and I, and the crowd that had gathered,
saw him fighting like a wild cat, but by the time the boat was
made fast again, the crew had him all trussed up with ropes.
“Then the Sergeant took him ashore and phoned for a
wagon.” id
At this point Sergeant Miller took up the story. “We -
couldn’t get anything out of the prisioner, but we had
plenty of confirmation of Mauger’s suspicions,. When the
bundle was hauled back off the rail of the ferry the wrap-
pings became unfastened a bit—and we saw a woman’s foot
sticking out!” AS
[ OZADE'S eyes bore a puzzled, worried expression when
he was brought back from the fingerprinting depart:
ment. He remained quite indifferent ‘to the ghastly burden
cn the table, but regarded his ink-stained fingers with an
awesome curiosity. He kept on muttering to himself,
A little after one-thirty,
Piscopo and I left the station-hoyse, with our prisoner,
Instructions had been left to have the body removed to the -
Richmond
County Morgue
for the autopsy,
which would be
performed by
Doctor Norris,
Chief Medical.
Examiner,
Arriving at the
ferry-house,
where Lozade
had hired the
taxi, we found
several reporters
and newspaper
photographers
awaiting us,
draped around
the “‘hot dog’?
stand,
“Would you
like some hot cof-
fee?” I asked the
Filipino.
“No. I don’t
care if I die.”
“Show us ex-
actly where you
placed the bun-
dle while you
were looking for
a taxi,” I request-
ed him,
Followed by
the newspaper
men, we ascended
to the second
level, where he
pointed to the en-
trance to our own
bureau. Hh sho
“That * sure ’
was one on you, Chief!” sthe Daily News reporter’ ex-
claimed, with a chuckle. ee siete
We caught the two o'clock’ boat. It was close’ and op-
pressive in the cabin, so we’ adjourned to the ‘open ‘deck,
Very, very still, it was in ‘that early morning,’ Liners
and tramp steamers lay at anchor, awaiting the arrival of
the Health and Immigration authorities,’ who would board
Sergeant Miller, Detective .
Blossom Martin’s sister’ and» mother seated in court by Assistant
District Attorney McDonald, ‘As Lozade passed close by, on his way
to the witness stand, the heart-broken mother cried out: “[ could kill
that man with my own hands!’
from Lozade,”
“ewnat’s he saying ?” I asked, under my breath.
" “’T'don't care if I die... .
them after dawn. Their lights studded the darkness like
monstrous red, green and yellow eyes. Across the water
came the mournful tolling of bell buoys.
' I watched Lozade surreptitiously. We were traversing
the same course over which he had borne his grisly burden
a few hours before. His bristling eyebrows, however, were
joined in a sulky scowl. Occasionally his hands twitched—
opened and closed in convulsive clutches. And almost unin-
termittently his strange jargon continued in a guttural
murmur, ao
” “Now, Lozade, I want you to understand this,” I said to
the prisoner, as the ferry-boat with its load of night hawks
drew near the South Ferry slip, “you are under arrest and
anything you say will be used against you. Are you will-
ing to make a statement—tell us just how the girl was mur-
dered and how you managed to bring the body over to Staten
Island on a boat full of people during the rush hour ?”
“I don’t care if I die~I can tell nothings,” he insisted,
jerking the words through his thick lips indifferently, “I
not know dat gal !’’ .
On reaching the Manhattan side, we found Detective
Ventura awaiting. us, Also there was a message from
Assistant. District Attorney Ryan of New York County,
requesting me to await his: arrival before proceeding to the
Peet house on West
87th Street,
where the mur-
dered woman had
been employed as
nurse, according
to Lozade.
“We might as
well have lunch
while we wait,”
I remarked to my
party.
After leaving
word with the of-
ficer in charge of
the ferry-house,
we went to an
all-night lunch
wagon, which, by
chance, was
empty of patrons.
““Won’t you
have something,
too, Lozade?” I
invited, as the
lunch-wagon
cook placed . four
club sandwiches
before us. The
fried bacon,
chicken and toast
filled the place
with an enticing
aroma,
The wide nos-
‘trils twitched, the
thick lips uncov-
ered sharp yellow
teeth as “he
nodded, ‘“‘Yah
I like sand-
wich... ... Black
devil dog...”
The last words were muttered to himself, and started off
another soliloquy in his native tongue,
_ I was seated next to Ventura, on a stool at the end farthest
She make lots of trouble for
me...
Ventura tr:
safe and his
Lozade was w
“*You he *
By the tim
I was convinc
the murder, |
longer oblige
without a sing
entering wed;
It ‘was aro
scene of the
which was a1
front’ private
Police Statior
“What bri
Officer McC!
“The detec
ringing th
bell. In ord
to effect e:
try,. they hi
to smash
basement wi
dow,” the p
trolman statt
with terse o
ficial. concis
ness. ‘‘T}
noise attrac
ed a man
the? house o
posite. Heg
his gun at
fired it ot
That
the
hoo
soon all t!
windows we
filled wi
people. Th
the mob c
lected.”
We enteré
ment door ;
Manhattan
photagraphe
tures of the
A large ci
colored wal
outline of a
made to w:
tossed to o1
kicked out «
tiére—a du
of the dead
dinjng room
Before qq
charge of ¢
the first floc
being inter
Station.
“My bro:
honeymoon
face was p
tragedy wh:
the Adiron<
I always fo
his work—
“Did thé
her with hi:
suds of a stormy day, his
le in his accomplishment,
te his name on the blank
English,” I said, standing
Che story you tell about
you that bundle is not
re telling lies. You are
est and anything you say
used against you—but
may just as well tell us
née name of the girl.
We'll find it out, any-
way—and then we'll
know you're lying.
And why — should
you lie unless you
killed the girl
yourself ?”
This scrap
of bait, he
snapped at.
“Dat gale
Blossom. She
nurse and
typer. Man
who says he
is doctor
gives me body
in Manhattan.
He gives me
money and _ say,
‘Take dat bundle
and put it in sewer
in.New Jersey.’ ”
“That's better,”
ncouraged him, feign-
to believe him. “Now,
did ygu come from
u- got on the boat at
ne replied evasively
Vest?” I asked quietly,
question was put so as
his line of thought.
six-West-Eighty-
.” he came back
giving the address
of a multi-syllabled
| fixedly at me.
som—his nurse.”
Aulitfe was a prom-
in “And what does
dunno! Dat all I
know girl only one
would be useless to
esumed its surly, life-
rance of the man, and
rough the mutilations
the dead girl seemed
possible intimate
‘“ueht with the body
would have been
not entirely com-
ough undoubtedly
‘o’clock,
Tropic Vengeance ao
he possessed the instincts of a jungle creature to make every
effort to extricate himself from the trap which had caugh
him. ;
The prisoner was charged with attempting to dispose of
a body illegally and was taken upstairs for fingerprinting.
As he was led from the room, a possible source of assistance
occurred to me. Lozade had been muttering and chatting
with himself in his own tongue with evident satisfaction
and relief. If we could obtain an interpretation of these
self-communings, I was
positive we could extract
from them some valuable
leads.
“See if you can get
hold of Ventura,” I sug-
gested to Detec-
tive Piscopo.
“Have him meet
us at the South
Ferry waiting-
room at two
He has
a smattering of
every language—
if we can find
out what this
bird is telling
himself all the
time, I’ll bet we’ll
get a pretty
straight tip © on
the murderer.”
Ventura is not
the real name of
this detective,
who is one of the
most valuable
men on the Force.
Mingling with
underworld
characters along
the Bowery, in
Chinatown and
up and down the
waterfront, he has
picked up an
amazing know-
ledge of lan-
Bureau itself! That guy is sure some police-dodger !”
(At that time the Staten Island Detective Bureau was
located in the ferry-house—a mighty convenient place for
prisoners brought from or sent to Manhattan.)
“That would have been a pretty valentine for us,” I
agreed. ‘Thank the gods he didn’t leave it there and clear
out.. We would have been in a pretty:mess—and he would
have had a darned good chance to make a getaway. Lady
Luck was good to us to-night! Well, go ahead Mr.
Mauger.”
“All right. I went to
the back of my cab to fix
my lamps,” the chauffeur
continued. “It was dusk
and time to light up. The
usual mob of
ferry passengers
was rushing out.
When I= started
back to my seat,
I saw the Fili-
pino seated in-
side, with his
bundle laid on the
two jump seats.
He says to me;
‘Go on—three
and a half to
Elizabethport
Ferry — and
hurry !’
“On the way
my passenger
tapped on the
window. and
asked me to stop
somewhere, so
that he could get
a drink of water.
I stopped outside
a gas station and
told him he could
get a drink there.
He left the taxi
and went inside.
In climbing back
into the car, he
dislodged his
guages and
dialects, and has.
developed the
trick of assuming
at will the char-
acteristics of
many different nationalities. His usefulness, however,
would be greatly impaired if his identity became known.
While Piscopo was on the track of Ventura via telephone,
I questioned Wilbur F. Mauger, the taxi driver who,
Sergeant Miller informed me, had been responsible for
Lozade’s arrest.
“T was on the lookout for a fare, at my stand just outdide
the St. George ferry-house, when this Filipino came up to
me, carrying a bundle,” the chauffeur related. ‘He asked
how much I would charge to drive him to the Elizabeth-
port Ferry at Howland Hook. I told him-it would be three
dollars and a half. He said that was too much.
“Tt was awful hot, as you know, and the fellow’s face was
covered with sweat. The bundle he was carrying, just about
weighed him down; so he placed it on the steps of the
offices just inside the entrance to the ferry-house, before
going over to George Weber, who drives the other taxi a
“Jeeze!’’ ejaculated Piscopo, who was listening while
waiting for a number. “Right on the steps of the Detective
Blossom Martin, 23, attractive brunette, of whose shocking fate
this story tells
bundle and it fell
to the floor of the
cab.
“When we ar-
rived at Howland
Hook my fare
paid me through the window and then got out. He started
tugging at his bundle—but it had got stuck when he knocked
it to the floor, and he couldn’t pull it out. I wanted to get
home to my supper, so [ went around and started to give him
a hand. Between us we dragged it out, and I helped him
hoist it on his shoulder.
“T was thinking of being late for my supper—an’ my fare
had gotten past the ticket office an’ was boarding the boat—
‘ when it kind of came to fme in a flash that there was some-
thing queer about that bundle! It had felt warm and soft-
like. Funny, how a kind of sickening feeling came over
me—it had had a horrible softness like a human corpse!
“T hopped off my seat, and running towards the ferry-
house, I dashed down the runway just as the boat cleared
off. I yelled for them to stop the boat and keep the man
with the bundle from throwing it overboard.
“Sergeant Miller came running up and asked what the
trouble was. For an instant I felt foolish—but I explained.
He started shouting to the deck hands to tell the captain to
By
68
Womanly Beauty—
Wherever you go, whatever you wear, to be
really attractive, you must have a skin free
from disfiguring hair.
Curious eyes are quick to detect the slight-
est flaw that modern bathing attire reveals.
So, too, with sleeveless frocks, evening gowns,
sheer hosiery and knee-
length skirts. Today wo-
men are more careful than
ever to remove the slight-
est suggestion of superflu- °
ous hair on arms, under
arms, back of neck orface. Under-arm daintiness
. ° ~ . .
Feminine Daintiness—
so much admired by everyone is preserved
most easily with Del-a-tone Cream. In 3 brief
minutes Del-a-tone Cream removes every
trace of offending hair. Leaves the skin soft,
white and velvety smooth.
Applied directly from its handy tube
Del-a-tone Cream has no equal for complete
removal of hair. Snow-white and pleasantly
fragrant, it is far superior to such growth
encouraging methods as shay-
ing or pulling the hair out by
the roots.
wet} Del-a-tone Cream or Powder has been
) the choice of fastidious women for
twenty years. Tryitand you, too, will
be convinced that the Del-a-tone way
is the modern way to remove hgir.
Hair-free legs
IDEL~A-TONE
Removes Hair in 3 Minutes
Sold by drug and department stores, or sent prepaid
in U.S. in plain wrapper, $1.00. Money back if not
satisfied. 10c paekn e FREE—use coupon below,
Address, Miss Mildred Hadley. care of The DelatoneCo.,
Dept. 138, 721 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill.
.
= Miss Mildred Hadley, The Delatone Co., | FRE Ey
= Dept. 138, 721 N. Michigan Ave., TRIAL ws
m Chicago, Ill. In U. S. only
= sey R .
u_ Please send me FREE, prepaid in plain wrapper, »
@ ten cent size I have checked herewith. ..
a ODel-a-tone Cream ODel-a-tone (powder) ’
.
“i
; Name .
s a
® Address. 5
True Detective Mysteries
to put tactful questions to the Crown
Prince. Anxiously we waited for his re-
ply. Days passed—for such matters al-
ways take time. Then one day Count
Storm, the Crown Prince’s closest friend
and equerry, called at the Prefecture, and
after making known his business, was in-
troduced to me.
HE Count at once declared that the
questions we had sent to our. Foreign
Office had been put to His Royal High-
ness, the Crown Prince, who begged to say
that he did not recognize the lady in the
photographs we had supplied, and that
most certainly he had not been dining with
her on. the evening in question. As a mat-
ter of fact, he had spent nearly all that
evening at the German Embassy.
Having delivered this message, the
Crown Prince’s equerry departed—leaving
me with a feeling that I was either being
deceived, or that I had made an infernal
fool of myself in crediting in any way the
story of the waiter at the Café de Paris.
Many weeks passed and the mystery re-
mained as baffling as ever. Then one day
we received a message from a man sen-
tenced to the penal settlements for life for
highway robbery with violence, who said
that he knew something about the Double-
Cross Murder, as it was called. I went to
see him at the Sante Prison and here I
found myself face to face with one of the
bandits I had encountered on ‘the Médi-
terranée Rapide when I was escorting the
gold coin shipment for the Bank of
France. Although I recognized him, he
did not remember me, and in friendly fash-
ion I asked what he knew about the Mont-
martre murder.
He then said that he had, on the night
of the crime, been in the district and that
he had seen a motor car suddenly draw up
and a body of a woman in evening dress
thrown brutally on the pavement. The
car had then driven off at a furious rate.
“Did you see the number of the car?” I
asked,
He replied that he had not been able to
do that, but had gone up to the body, and
seeing the jewels on the woman’s throat
and fingers, had robbed her of them. I
at oncé recalled that although she had
been dressed in the latest fashion, and her
clothes must have cost a good deal of
money, she had not worn any jewels which
would have been part and parcel of such
an elaborate toilette. So I thought that
part of the sentenced bandit’s story might
be true. As to the motor car—well, I
wondered.
To this day the Double-Cross Murder,
of Montmartre, remains a mystery as baf-
fling as the day on which it was commit-
ted. It is popularly thought that the
woman was the victim of a marauding
band of “Apaches,” and that the motive
was robbery—also that the story told by
the waiter at the Café de Paris was only
a bid on his part for notoriety. As a
matter of fact, some months later he was
sent to prison for twelve months for rob-
bing a visitor to the famous restaurant.
O the detective, murder cases are al-
ways the most absorbing because there
is a strange element of mystery surround-
ing capital crimes which constitutes a real
man-hunt and gives one a great incentive
to make a capture.
Perhaps one of the strangest unsolved
French murders was the “Mascot” Mur-
der, also in Montmartre. A young and
very pretty girl was found lying dead one
night with all her identity papers missing
and no clues whatever that would lead to
the discovery of her murderer. Pinned on
her breast, however, was a tiny wax baby
mascot, soiled by blood-stained fingers.
The finger-prints were too blurred for
identification, but for months afterwards
the best detective brains of France tried to
solve the puzzle of that little wax baby
pinned by the murderer to the body of his
victim.
What strange tragedy surrounded that
cr:me I have often wondered. What was
the motive?) Who was the murderer—and
is he still alive?
“Murder will out” is a true saying.
I believe firmly that some day the mystery
will be solved,
Next month Detective Deboissigne
will téll the inside story of that beauti-
ful and seductive woman spy, Mata.
Hari, called throughout Europe, the
“Princess of Pleasure”; also he will
make some startling revelations rela-
tive to the apprehension of the notori-
ous Bolo Pasha, traitor to France, and
will include an engrossingly interest-
ing account of personal experiences, in
connection with his detective work,
having to do with the late King Ed-
ward VII, Kaiser William, General
Petain, the Queen of Spain, and Kitch-
ener of Khartoum. Don’t miss this
feature in the September issue of
TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES, on
sale August 15th.
Tropic Vengeance
(Continued from page 31)
for a white girl who was a friend of his.
So far, the evidence fitted into a fairly
coherent whole. The knife, the splotches
on the wall and the blood stains on the
steps indicated that the murder had taken
place on the stairway leading from the
basement. The roughly laundered clothes
and the stains in the wash basin in the but-
ler’s room showed that bloody garments
had: been srinsed ‘theres 14 @saae ng triteal
é
PON the basis of the facts we ha
learned, we tried to construct an im-
aginary picture of the crime. The girl, we
told ourselves, had taken the knife to de-
fend herself. Alone in the house with the
presumably amorous Filipino, her predica-
ment was desperate. Lozade, after a ter-
rific struggle, had unarmed her and, his
primitive passions aroused, he had used
jungle tactics to subdue his victim—he had
strangled her to death as brutally and de-
liberately as a python might crush the
breath out of its prey in its deadly con-
. volutions.
“For some reason or other, the ringing
of a telephone has a tremendously disturb-
ing effect on Lozade,” I told the assembled
. prosecutors and detectives, after we had
completed our spectlations, sd I described
the scene at
had left State:
out and rang
operator ring:
we might suryp:
mission Of sor
away from he:
have the gh
what he know
Lozade at th
under the tec!
illegally to dis;
perfectly with
every effort t
man we were <«
It was, ther
terrogation shi
tor’s office on
was, of course.
One of the
men was sent
was ordered
Another officer
green portiére
length of cloth:
The scene w:
Lozade was
marily occupic:
Doctor's desk,
far end of the
tial position 1:
places behind |
torney Ryan oc
All lights w:
dow shades we:
seeped the firs’
dawn. By cm
spoke. In th:
silence, Lozade
waiting.
HE effec
telephon
through the
machine-gun !
the e ectric sw:
Lozade stiffe:
arched as if }
shock.
Again and
summons beto:
He listened in
full two minut:
its hook.
“Now, Lozad
statement? \
murder of Bk
you say may |!
him, solemnly
shoulder.
At that mo:
last resistance
amazing state
paper readers «
“T don't care
bled in his gut:
gal always ma!
let me answer
the Doctor I b
“You killed |
would not lov
“No, no, n
she make troul
buang when wi
“Then why «
I demanded, hi:
“I no give
“First time | }
help her to pa
say she pay
for. Sometim:
tudded the darkness like
eyes,
Across the water
uoys.
We were traversing
! borne his grisly burden
eyebrows, however, were
Ie } ;
illy his hands twitched—
itches.
And almost unin-
continued in a guttural
iderstand this,” I said to
i its load of night hawks
yOu are under arrest and
inst you,
Are you will-
st how the girl was mur-
g the body over to Staten
ing the rush hour ?”
\| nothings,” he insisted,
ck lips indifferently. “I
le;
we found Detective
was a message from
of New York County,
betore proceeding to the
a) |) Pa
ae A: |b aS J
house on West
87th Street,
where the mur-
dered woman had
been employed as
nurse, according
to Lozade.
“We might as
well have lunch
while we’ wait,”
I remarked to my
party.
After leaving
werd with the of-
ficer in charge of
the ferry-house,
we went to an
all-night lunch
wagon, which, by
chance, was
empty of patrons.
“Won’t you
have something,
too, Lozade?” I
invited, as the
lunch-wagon
cook placed four
club sandwiches
before us. The
fried bacon,
chicken and toast
filled the place
with an enticing
aroma.
The wide nos-
trils twitched, the
thick lips uncov-
ered sharp yellow
teeth as he
nodded. ‘‘Yah
I like sand-
wich.... Black
imself, and started off
1 at the end farthest
j
y breath.
ke lots of trouble for
ee a,
Tropic Vengeance
7.
me... Black dog... Dirty black’ dog... om
Ventura translated at odd intervals. Believing himself
safe and his little chats to himself unintelligible to” us,
Lozade was unveiling valuable secrets.
“You lie to boss... you bum...
By the time that the Assistant District Attorney arrived, .
I was convinced that if Lozade had not actually committed
the murder, he had had a hand in it. Also, we were no
longer obliged to enter the scene of the crime “cold’—
without a single inkling of where to start. We had a strong
entering wedge. ee
It'was around three-thirty when we finally reached the
scene of the murder. A morbid mob crowded the block,
which was an exclusive section of white-stone and brown-
front? private houses. Detectives from the 100th Street
Police Station formed a cordon, keeping the curious at bay.
“What brought out the rubber-neck rabble?” I asked
Officer McCloud. CN:
“The detectives couldn’t rouse anybody in the house by
ringing the
bell. In order
to effect en-
try, they had
to smash a
basement win-
dow,” the pa-,
trolman_ stated
with terse of-
ficial concise-
ness. ‘‘The
noise attract-
ed a man in
the house op-
posite. He got
his gun and
fired it off.
That woke. up
the neighbor-
hood, and
soon all the
windows were
filled with
>
people. Then
the mob col-
lected.”
We entered by the base-
ment door and found the
Manhattan Headquarters
photographer taking pic- .
tures of the inside stairway leatling to the first floor.
A large carving knife lay on the third step, On the dun-
colored walls were big splotches, with here and there the
outline of a blood-stain, showing that an attempt had been
made to wash off some evidence. Two small rugs were
tossed to one side and doubled over as if they had been
kicked out of the way during a struggle. One green por-
tiére—a duplicate of the one which had wrapped’the body
of the dead ‘girl—hung iri a doorway leading to a servant’s
dining room.
Before questioning the prisoner further, { left him in
charge of Sergeant Miller and ascended to the library on
the frst floor, where I found two frightened little old ladies
being interviewed by men from the 100th Street Police
Station.
“My brother, Doctor McAuliffe, left yesterday on his
honeymoon,” one of them was saying when I entered. Her
face was paper-white with horror, inspired by the ghastly
tragedy which had taken place in her home. “He is up in
the Adirondacks somewhere. My son has telephoned him.
| always found Eulogia very respectful and conscientious in
his work
“Did the murdered girl ever complain of his annoying
her with his attentions?” I asked her, recognizing her refer-
ence to the Filipino. It was the first time I had heard him
called by his first name.
“Yes, Miss Martin did complain,” she quavered, “but the
butler—that was Eulogia’s position here—denied it, and he
came with splendid references from sanitariums where he
had worked.” ‘
“Where-is his room?” I asked.
“Tt’s on the top’ floor in the rear,” she answered, her
hands fluttering nervously. ’
“And the girl’s?”
“Oh, Miss Martin wasn’t a servant,” she replied, a shiver
slurring: the mention of the girl’s name. “She didn’t live
here. She was a nurse, working for my brother.”
I climbed to the top floor and had no difficulty in picking
out the room which belonged to the Filipino butler. It was
as neat as a pin. Carefully pressed suits were stretched on
hangers; gaudily striped ties‘ were draped over a tie-rack
alongside the dresser, on which was an array of pomades
and. cosmetics.
This photograph shows another view of Lozade as he sat
in court listening to testimony which was aimed at send-
ing him to the electric chair
Not a thing was out of place there.
In one cor-
ner was a
washstand
with running
water. Adher-
ing to the
plug and spat-
tered on the
white enamel
were small
splashes of
blood.
A pair of
khaki overalls
and a gray
flannel shirt
lay in a crum-
pled heap in a
corner of the
closet. They
had obviously
been recently
washed and,
indeed, were
still damp in
spots. The
work had been hurriedly
done, and rings surround-
ed particularly hard-
rubbed portions.
Each unfolding phase of the case pointed towards the
Filipino as the murderer! But there were several links still
missing—and, after all, circumstantial evidence is a very
treacherous thing! You never can be sure until every fact
is in. ‘That the squat, ill-favored Oriental had had any inti-
mate friendship with the dead girl certainly seemed im-
possible.
What made the affair fraught with tremendous possibili-
ties was that the police were looking for a man closely
resembling our prisoner, in order to question him regarding
another homicide case in which a fifteen-year-old girl had
been murdered by a man who had visited her mother’s house
to inspect furnished rooms.
“Could this be the man?” This was a question, I knew,
which had occurred to all the other detectives working on
the case, though none of us had mentioned it.
When I descended, William Ryan of the New York
County District Attorney’s Office; District Attorney Molloy
of Richmond County, the New York detectives and myself
went into conference. At this time I also received a report
from one of my men that the jeweler who sold Lozade the
diamond ring we had found on him had been located at his
home and interviewed. He stated that the Filipino had told
him the purchase was intended (Continued on page 68)
r—well, I
ss Murder,
stery as baf-
was commit-
ht that the
i marauding
the motive
tory told by
iris was only
riety. As a
later he was
nths for rob-
estaurant.
cases are al-
because there
ry surround-
titutes a real
‘eat incentive
est unsolved
ascot” Mur-
young and
ing dead one
pers missing
vould lead to
Pinned on
ny wax baby
‘ned fingers.
blurred for
afterwards
‘ance tried to
le wax baby
body of his
ided that
‘hat was
.aucrer—and
saying.
1@ mystery
- . ,&
Deboissigne
that beauti-
spy, Mata.
Surope, the
iso he will
ations rela-
the notori-
France, and
ly interest-
eriences, in
ctive work,
King Ed-
m, General
and Kitch-
miss this
c issue of
ERIES, on
ise with the
her predica-
atter a ter-
« mer and, his
had used
tim—he had
illy and de-
-rush_ the
: ieadly con-
ringing
» disturb
ssembled
we had
lescribed
ia a
the scene at the Station-house before we
had left Staten Island. “If one of us. went
out and rang up this number, and kept the
operator ringing for some time, I believe
we might surprise the Filipino into an ad-
mission of some sort. Once he is taken
away from here and locked up, we won’t
have the ghost of a chance to find out
what he knows!”
Lozade at this time was still being held
under the technical charge of attempting
illegally to dispose of a body. We were
perfectly within our rights in making
every effort to get information from the
man we were detaining.
It was, therefore, arranged that the in-
terrogation should take place in the Doc-
tor’s office on the first floor, where there
was, of course, a telephone.
One of the 100th Street Station-house
men was sent out to call us up, and Miller
was ordered to bring Lozade to the office.
Another officer was instructed to fetch the
green portiére from the basement and a
length of clothes-line.
The scene was set.
Lozade was seated in the chair custo-
marily occupied by patients, alongside the
Doctor’s desk, which was located at the
far end of the room. It was a providen-
tial position for us, who were able to take
places behind him—Assistant District At-
torney Ryan occupying the Doctor’s chair.
All lights were turned out. The win-
dow shades were raised, and into the room
seeped the first cold flicker of the early
dawn. By common consent none of us
spoke. In that heavy, dead, oppressive
silence, Lozade sat motionless, inscrutable,
waiting.
HE effect of the sudden pealing of the
telephone bell was startling. It crashed
through the stillness like the rattle of a
machine-gun! At that instant, I pressed
the e ectric switch. Lights flashed on.
Lozade stiffened in his chair. His body
arched as if he had received an electric
shock.
Again and again the bell shrilled its
summons before Ryan lifted the receiver.
He listened in silence and then, after a
full two minutes, replaced the receiver on
its hook.
“Now, Lozade, do you want to make a
statement’ You are under arrest for the
murder of Blossom Martin, and anything
you say may be used against you,” I told
him, solemnly placing my hand on_ his
shoulder.
At that moment the jungle creature's
last resistance broke, and he began the
amazing statement that startled the news-
paper readers of this country.
“T don’t care. I die, anyway,” he mum-
bled in his guttural, broken English. “Dat
gal always make trouble for me! She not
let me answer the telephone, an’ then tell
the Doctor I bothers her!”
“You killed Blossom Martin because she
would not love you,” I suggested.
“No, no, no!” he denied. “All the time
she make trouble for me. She was buang-
buang when we alone. I no love her,”
“Then why did you give her presents?”
1 demanded, holding up the diamond ring.
“T no give her presents,” he snarled.
“First time I lend her fifty dollars; then I
help her to pay for her rooms, which she
say she pay twelve dollars and a_ half
for. Sometimes | give her ten dollars—
True Detective Mysteries
69
Waist and Hips
No obligation.
‘WMoles
HOW TO BANISH THEM
A simple, safe, home treat-
ment—16 years’ success in
my practice. Moles (also Big
Growths) dry up and drop
off. Write for free Booklet.
‘W. M. DAVIS, M. D., 124-C Grove Ave., Woodbridge, N. J
Quickly Reduced
without dieting, drugs or exercises
WY ek and hips 2 to 4inches smaller—in 10 days.
That’s what the new Perfolastic Reducing Girdle
has done for thousands of delighted women.
you to try it, too—at our risk.
Made of finest quality, fresh, live Plantation Rubber
by the famous Goodrich Rubber Co.,
duces by automatic massage.
draw, every step you take, its continuous gentle pres-
sure breaks up fat cells, moulds away flabby flesh as an
expert masseuse would. Cool, comfortable, light—
some models weigh as little as 914 ounces (garters in-
cluded)—full of tiny holes to let skin breathe.
FREE ILLUSTRATED BOOK gives full details about this
marvelous girdle and special 5-day Trial Offer with money-back
guarantee that protects you from all risk. Send for it today.
Simply fill out coupon and mail to Perfolastic,
Inc., Dept. 68, 79 Madison Ave., New York City.
_ We urge
Perfolastic re-
With every breath you
Perfolastic, Inc., Dept. 68,
79 Madison Ave., New York City.
i
!
Without obligation, please send me FREE BOOK gescribing and illustrating |
the new Perfolastic Girdle, also special 5-day Trial Offer. !
|
Are Created
By Using MASCARILLO
An absolutely harmless preparation for retouching and beautifying
eyebrows and "RO ree A DYE. Prepared in nine shades. Price $1.
EXORA ROUGE 4A natural color for every
complexion. W Bier prool. Cc
Six shades. $1 a jar. Samples of Mascarillo. EXO RA rouge,
cream and powder, CHARLES MEYER, SEast 12th St., N.Y.C.
BUST DEVELOPED
My Re batt vy lated Part areata if He
EE that gives
DRVELGeMEN without datas:
exercises, pumps or ote danger-
ous absurdities. I ou a
GUARANTEED TWO. 730 LAR
PAY wr FREE
TREATMENT
If;you send a DIME toward expenses.
g Large Aluminum Box of my Won-
er Cream included.) Plain wrapper.
IS IT WORTH 10¢ TO YOU? If
ots your dime back by first mail.
ress NOW, with ten cents only.
Madame G. C. Williams, Buffalo, N. Y.
YOU ARE WANTED
Girls—Women, 15 up
BECOME GOWN DESIGNERS
Learn easily at home in spare moments.
Designers—Creators earn
$35.00 to $75.00 a week
Franklin Institute
Design anl
create you
owngownsat Dept. E-634
big, money Rochester, N.Y.
oe Rush to me AT ONCE
32 page ‘‘'Gown Book,’
with free sample lessons.
darkening and
scalp.
“? NO BLONDE
can afford to forget
HAT her popularity is largely due to the loveliness
of her golden hair.
And to keep blonde hair from
fading—it must have special care.
That’s why over a million blondes now use Blondex—
the special new light hair shampoo for blondes only.
Keeps blonde hair from fading and streaking.
back true bright beauty and silken lustre to even dullest
hair. Not a dye.
At all drug and department stores.
Brings
No harsh chemicals. Benefits
SUMMER!
yet your PowDER Clings,
rouge stays on and you look
ALWAYS LOVELY
SuMMER ... with old ocean beck-
oning down the white sands...
limpid lakes mirroring forth joy
..- slim young bodies flashing in-
to caressing waters. . . Summer
. calling you to a thousand ac-
tivities... whispering of romance
in night silence... thrilling you
with the joy of living every gold-
en hour intensely.
Ah, yes! But there must be no
pale cheeks after the swim ... no overflushed appear-
ance of exertion ’neath the sun's ardors... no shiny
nose. You must remainserenely, cooly beautiful under
all conditions, to fully enjoy summer... and with
Princess Pat beauty aids you may.
“‘Summer-Proof"" Make-up
Princess Pat beauty aids, if used together, give a
summer-proof make-up. You can actually go in
swimming and come out with color perfect—or dance
through the evening secure in the knowledge that one
application of make-up is sufficient for lasting beauty.
For make-up that will last under trying conditions
you first apply Princess Pat Ice Astringent—just as
you would ordinary vanishing cream. Only, you see,
Ice Astringent gives the skin lasting coolness, con-
tracts the pores and makes the skin of fine, beautiful
texture. After Ice Astringent, apply Princess Pat
rouge for color which moisture will not affect. Then
use Princess Pat almond base powder—the softest,
most clinging powder ever made—and one which
gives beautiful, pearly lustre.
Try the Seven Princess Pat Beauty Aids
in Famous Week-End Set
This is really an “‘acquaintance”’ set—enough of each
preparation for thorough trial—enough for two weeks,
if used with reasonable economy. And the beauty
book sent with set contains information on skin care
of real value—besides artful secrets of make-up which
vastly enhance results from rouge, powder, lip stick
and lip rouge. The set contains generous tubes of Ice
Astringent, Skin Cleanser (the modern cold cream),
Skin Food Cream, Almond Base Powder, Rouge, Lip
Rouge and Perfume. The charge of 25c helps pay for
the packing of set in beautiful box, and postage. Our
only other recompense is the opportunity to have you
try Princess Pat beauty aids and learn their special
virtues. We desire to sell only one set toa customer.
And we respectfully urge your promptness.
The very popular Princess Pat Week-End Set is offered
for a limited time for rH1s coupon and 25¢ (coin). Only
one toa customer. Set contains easily a month's supply
of Almond BasePowder and pie other delightful Princess
Pat preparations, Packed in a beautifully decorated
boudoir box, Please act prompts
Get
This
Week
End
Set—
SPECIAL
PRINCESS PAT, Ltd.
2709 S. Wells St., Dept. No. A-28, Chicago.
Enclosed find 25¢ for which
weciore” Bac ich send me the Princess Pat
’
Name (print)....,
True Detective Mysteries
sometimes twelve. Alway she want some-
thing, when no people round. She want
me to marry.”
His statement was coming in an ava-
lanche of words; the very rapidity with
which they were gurgled out, carried con-
viction of the truth of the almost incredi-
ble tale.
“Then why didn’t you marry her?” I
asked, skeptically.
“I didn’t want to marry dat gal, because
my face isn’t fitted for her. She, white—
I, brown. I say once dat I marry if it
going to be my luck, but I do not love—
I do not want, Then, when people round,
she act pridely. She buang-buang!”
“What does he mean by buang-buang?”
I inquired of Ventura, speaking under my
breath in order not to stem the Filipino’s
flow of words.
“Sort of crazy—bug-house,”
plained.
he ex-
oy; OU said you never gave her presents,
but you bought this diamond ring for
her,” I persisted, when Lozade paused for
a moment.
“Yah—lI buy that. First, I buy one ring
—she say not big enough, so I buy bigger.
I want to give ring in front of Doctor,
but she say no—she want it po-no,”
“Po-no?” I inquired of Ventura.
“Tn confidence—secretly,” he explained.
“T said to dat gal, ‘You do not want me
to give ring with witnesses, when you
know dat I know you here inside, but out-
side I do not know you,’” he explained,
taking great pains to make his explanation
clear, “I tell her she make trouble for me
with Doctor, an’ if I D hs ring, it must be
before him.
“Den las’ night’ we here alone., I ote
to do, scraping floor. She come up to me
on stairs and says, ‘Give me ring!’
.“I say no, not with Doctor not here. I
say, ‘I’m tired of talking, talking. I want
to work, You no talk to me no more.’ I
tell her not to bother me—I say, ‘You're
working here—I working, too. . Doctor
pays you and pays me; I say you work
alone and I work alone.’
“She was all the time mad, “mad, mad!
Den she says, ‘Sit down on the stair with
me; I want talk once”. x
“So we sat on the stairs together, and
she says, ‘Give me the ring,’ and I says,
‘No, not with Doctor not here.’
“Den she says, ‘You dirty, black mon-
key! you ! She says, ‘I got other
man—better man dan you! I get dat man
to shoot you dead!’
“T say, ‘I thought you a good girl! You
no-account bum, don’t talk to me more!
I going to ‘tell Doctor all about you
and me,’”
“Was that the first time you knew she
was running»around with other men?” I
asked him. “Hadn’t you ever asked her
before?” peice
The Filipino. looked.
Reinincly ae
me uncompre-
' “You mean that you got mad when you
found out: that the girl was not virtuous?”
Assistant District Attorney Ryan ex-
plainedss. ty Acta eee
“Virtuous?” he repeated in pastes
doubt, evidently not understanding the
meaning of the word,
“You accused her—you. ‘told her that you
. didn’t know she was running around with
other men,” ‘Ryan went''on:
“T didn’t tell it to her—why I tell dat to
her?” Lozade inquired, with the same puz-
zled expression. “She say she has a man
worth more dan me—and dat he would
look for me and shoot me. If she was a
good gal, why will she have another man
shoot me? Sure, it silly; I no think I
only man she go with.
O I tell her, ‘I thought you were a
good gal, but I found you are a bum
to hang round with me to shoot me.’
“Den,” he went on patiently to explain,
“T tell her, as I tell you, that all we have
done together I go tell the Doctor.
“She. gets up and says, ‘You get out of
here, you black monkey! You nasty, black
beast!’ And she run to the kitchen. J
think she go home, but she come back with
a butcher knife and say, ‘I kill you now!”
Rising to his feet, the Filipino crouched
like a tiger about to spring—his eyes
gleamed, and his lips curled back in a snarl.
“She says to me, ‘I kill you now!’ And
I says, ‘All right, you pay your life.’ I
catch her arms, but she very strong. We
fight all over the stairs. She push me and
she fall on me—and drop the knife, Den
she keep beating me on the chest and she
grabs my arm.... Den I kills dat gal!”
“Show what you did to the girl, using
this man. We'll pretend that this man is
Blossom,” I suggested, taking Piscopo by
the arm and leading him over to the Fili-
pino,
With one crouching spring, he flew at
Piscopo’s throat, and grabbed his neck in
his two hands. He made a gloating, gut-
tural sound, and then said:
“T hold her so for long time—she can’t
holler at me no more, but at first she keep
beating me and kicking me—and then she
is still. I don’ know how long I hold her
dere—mebbe half hour. When I let go,
she fall back. I speak to her—and say,
‘Speak to me!’ She no speak. She no
move—den I know she was dead.”
“Hey, get him off me!” Piscopo man-.
aged to shout, for the prisoner’s re-enact-
ing of the scene had been a bit too realistic
for the officer’s comfort.
So excited and enthralled was Lozade in
his performance, however, that we had to
drag him off.
“Now here’s the portiére—what did you
do with that?” I asked him. ‘This young
man is about the same weight as Blossom;
show us how you tied her up.”
“So,” Lozade explained, as he went right
to work, throwing Piscopo on the ground
as easily as if he had been an infant. “I
pulled her by the leg from the stairs into
the hall; Den I pulled her legs up and
crossed her feet and hands.” He spoke as
unemotionally as if he were describing the
trussing of a chicken. “I went to the din-
ing-room closet and got one green curtain
like the one hanging in the doorway and
wrapped her body up in it. She had a black
hat and cape; I wrapped dem all in bundle.
I got the cord and tied her with it.”
So deftly had he worked that by the time
he had finished, Piscopo had been com-
pletely bundled up in the portiére.
“Much blood had come from her nose
and mouth, and it was on the stairs and
walls and on my clothes,” he continued.
“T wash dem all. Den I carries the bundle
to Central Park West and in mebbe five,
mebbe ten minutes I gets a taxi and asks
how much he charge to drive me to South
Ferry.
We go. li
plan to go to
friend, and put '
Dat's all. Now
She—Blossom-
when telephone
Doctor I no ans
Lozade wast
in the day.
Tombs physici
sions carefully :
E presented
appeared
the time of his
peared near his
were frightful-
claimed, had }h
other detective
statement. It
he had delibera
cigar while in
the doctor’s exa
received there,
no abuse had h
The jury
that a beautitu
any intimate 1
semi - civilized
story of the de:
tance with a
nished a love-
Street, and s«
Filipino, whic!
an amazing s)
Blossom Mart:
THe newsp:
high lights ot
of the pretty
aspired to dev
flutter be7*on
fires s
home
terrible uuc:
darkness of
were the elen
“star” copy ©
the imaginati:
the horrible di.
juice and han
several weeks
zine, however.
the method b
hideous crime
Lozade’s at’
defense, but
dropped the
had commenc
pino was tou
the electric «
P. M., July 2
Have
Lin
It’s th
trend tc
bed liner
color sc}
Read
issue of
the Bed .
On all
The man on the ferry was about to throw the mysterious bundle
over the rail when deck hands ran forward and stopped him
THE KILLER FOUND OUT THAT
Fa)
T WAS LATE at night and the girl and boy sitting
on the step inside the doctor’¢
Street in New York City weref
Blossom Martin, the doctor’s Arse. The boy was
Eulogia Lozade, his butler. The vere both angry.
“Give me the ring,” the girl 7d.
“No,” the boy replied. “You Iitd to the doctor about
me. If I give you the ring it will be in front of the doc-
tor. That’s the only way he’ll ever know the truth
about us.”
The girl jumped to her feet. ‘All right,” she stormed.
“Keep your old ring.” Then, tauntingly, “There’s some-
body else, anyway. A better man than you’ll ever be.
He’ll give me a ring.” ‘
The boy tried to remain calm. “Just don’t talk to
me,” he said. ‘““We’re through.”
The girl wasn’t through. She wanted the last word.
She repeated, ‘‘He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.”
Lozade looked at her. “I’m going to tell the doctor
what’s been going on between us,” he said.
Blossom Martin didn’t answer. She moved in closer
and stood spread-eagled in front of him. Anger caused
her to breathe more quickly and deeply.
mffice at West 87th
sone. The girl was
TO STRANGLE A GIRL IS MUCH EASIER
THAN TO DISPOSE OF THE BODY
Lozade saw her chest rise and fall with that breath-
ing. It brought out the taut outline of her fulsome
breasts. She was dressed in her white linen nurse’s uni-
form and her trim figure and the rising and falling of
her breasts reminded him of just how desirable she
was.
“No, I won’t,” he said warmly. “I won’t tell him any-
thing if you kiss me and say you were lying about that
other man.”’ He stood up and tried to put his arms
around her.
Blossom Martin took one step backward and then
came forward and slapped Lozade’s face as hard as she
could. ‘Get out of here!” she screamed. “Get out!”
She ran into the kitchen.
Lozade waited until she returned with her cape and
cap. He knew she was going home. He laughed at her
and tried to grab her and kiss her. She kicked him and
cursed him. Finally she broke away from him.
“You loved me once,” Lozade said to her, “and I’ll
make you love me again.”
The girl started backing up. If there had ever been
any doubt in Lozade’s mind about her love having
turned to hate it was dispelled by the look in her eyes.
49
HE KNEW =
| HE WAS DEAD | ©
a
Wg heck Lnbealr Ar
WA o- perrblrz—
. /GSS>
tell dat to
same puz-
has a man
he would
she was a
other man
think I
uu were a
are a bum
me.’
to explain,
ll we have
out of
black
: on. J
back with
u now!”
» crouched
—his eyes
ina snarl.
wl And
life.’ I
rong. We
ish me and
nite. Den
st and she
lat gal!”
girl, using
his man is
‘iscopo by
9 the Fili-
lew at
eck in
Z, gut-
-she can't
t she keep
{ then she
{ hold heg
I let go,
—~and say,
She no
id.”
opo mans
re-enact-
0 realistic
Lozade in
e had to
t did you
his young
; Blossom;
went right
he ground
infant. “I
stairs into
gs up and
» spoke as
ribing the
» the din-
‘en curtain
orway and
iad a black
' in bundle.
the time
been com-
her nose
tairs and
tinued
bundle
de five,
id asks
<« w South
Ferry. He says three dollars and a half.
We go. Too many peoples on the boat. I
plan to go to New Jersey where I have
friend, and put the body in the sewer there.
Dat's all. Now, you kill me. I no care.
She—Blossom—no more holler at me, and
when telephone rings, she no more tell
Doctor I no answer because I bother her.”
Lozade was taken to The Tombs later on
in-the day. He was examined by The
Tombs physician and all marks and abra-
sions carefully noted.
HE presented a pitiabie figure when he
appeared in the prisoner’s dock, at
the time of his trial. A horrible sore ap-
peared near his right eye and on his chest
were frightful-looking burns. These, he
claimed, had. been made by myself and
other detectives in an effort to force a
statement. It was proved, however, that
he had deliberately burned himself with a
cigar while incarcerated in The Tombs;
the doctor’s examination at the time he was
received there, bore out our testimony that
no abuse had been offered the prisoner.
The jury found it difficult to believe
that a beautiful white girl could have had
any intimate friendship with the uncouth,
semi - civilized defendant. However, his
story of the demure young nurse’s acquain-
tance with a married man who had fur-
nished a love-nest for her on West 57th
Street, and several notes written by the
Filipino, which were discovered there, cast
an amazing spotlight on the double life
Blossom Martin had been living.
The newspapers, as usual, caught the
high lights of the drama. The personality
ot the pretty little country girl, who had
aspired to develop butterfly wings—only to
flutter broken into the gutter; the hidden
fires smoldering in the quiet, conservative
home of a highly respected physician; the
terrible duel fought to the death, in the
darkness of his luxurious mansion—these
were the elements that made this case the
“star” copy of the day. The story fired
the imaginations of readers, who devoured
the horrible details along with their orange
juice and ham-and-eggs each morning for
several weeks. The account in this maga-
zine, however, is the first complete story of
the method by which the facts about the
hideous crime were uncovered.
Lozade’s attorney offered a plea of self-
defense, but as the ‘girl had concededly
dropped the knife before the defendant
had commenced to strangle her, the Fili-
pino was found guilty and was executed in
the electric chair at Sing Sing at 11:15
P. M., July 25th, 1924.
Have You Colored
Linen on Your
Bed?
It’s the latest thing in this
trend to color —matching, the
bed linen and blankets with the
color scheme in the room.
Read about it in the August
issue of YOUR HOME in “Even
the Bed Linens Are Colored Now.”
On all newsstands July 23rd
25 cents a copy
True Detective Mysteries 71
A Gift, My Dear
For Getting Slender —
Excess fat means a
serious blight to beauty, —
to health and vitality.
Many a husband, if
wives only knew, would
give much to see it
ended. Why not make a
bargain?
nutrition —in the best
way known to modern
science.
There are no secrets
about Marmola. The
complete formula ap-
pears in every package,
also all known reasons
for results. You will
know the reasons for
loss of fat, for the new
vitality and health. So
ficiency. Leading’ scien-. you will have no reason
tists, thirty years ago, to suspect harm from re-
discovered that cause for obesity. Their sults which seem so magical.
method of correction has now spread the
world over. Physicians everywhere employ it.
The way is not hard,
not unpleasant. Simply
correct the cause, which ©
often lies in a gland de-
If you over-weigh, you owe to yourself a
test of Marmola. Simply take four tablets
daily and watch how the fat disappears. Not
too rapidly, but in the right way, by cor-
recting a deficiency.
Marmola prescription tablets embody that
method. People have used them for twenty
years—millions of boxes of them,
You see the results in every circle. Per-
haps many of your friends can tell them.
Excess fat, as you can see, is far less com-.
mon than it was. .
Probably Marmola has proved itself worth
its weight in gold to friends of yours. Learn
now what it means to you. You cannot
afford excess fat.
Abnormal exercise or diet is neither re-
quired nor advised, but moderation helps.
The aim is to correct the cause—in faulty
MARMOL
STORIES WANTED Sag ae es eg
For Revising, Editing, Typing, Marketing : he Hair Root
By HOLLYWOOD REVISION STUDIO My method is the only way to prevent the hatr_ from growing again.
5426 Sierra Vista Blvd., Hollywood, California ye painless, harmless. No scars. Booklet free, Write today enclosing
red stamps. We teach beauty culture.
Send Stories For Free Criticism D. J. MAHLER, 708-A Mahler Park, PROVIDENCE, R. 1.
Marmola prescription tablets are sold by
all druggists at $1.00 per box. Any drug-
gist who is out will order from his jobber
Prescription Tablets
The Pleasant Way to Reduce
RAILWAY
$158 TO $225 MONTH
POSTAL CLERKS
Mail Coupon Before You Lose It
A TT A A ON A ON pe we
Franklin Institute, Dept. E-229
Rochester, N. Y
Sirs: Rush to me, without charge, copy of
32-page book, ‘‘How to Get U.S. Govern-
ment Jobs,’’ with sample coaching, list of
positions obtainable and full particulars telling
how to get them.
Steady Work—No Layoffs— Paid Vacations
Travel_See Your Country
Many U.S. Government Jobs Open to Women Name .........-.--------- ------------------- ~~
Common Education Usually Sufficient 4 Addie .n6 < ooss cs ccwndccccecsecceecsesecsas
Win a Nash Sedan
Or $1,400.00 in Cash
Someone who answers this ad will receive, absolutely free, a
fully equipped Landau Model Nash Sedan, or its full value
in oash ($1,085.00). We are also giving absolutely free, a
Chevrolet Coach, a Brunswick is of, Dols and many other
valuable prizes—besides Hundreds of Dollars in Cash. This
“ is open to anyone living in the U.S. .A,, outside of
cago.
“aa Solve this Puzzle
There are 7 cars in tho circle. By drawing 3 straight lines
you can put each one in a space by itself. It may mean
winning one of the prizeg if you send me your answer right
away,
$315.00 Extra for Promptness
In addition to the many valuable prizes and Hundreds of
Dollars in Cash, we are also giving a Special Prize of
$315.00 in Cash for Promptness, First prize winner will re-
ceive $1,400.00 in cash, or the Nash Sedan and $315.00 in
cash, In case of ties duplicate prizes will be awarded each
one tying. Solve the puzzle right away and send me your
answer together with your name and address oo written.
$3,000.00 in prizes—EVERYBODY REWARD
M1. L. Boeing, Mgr., Dept. C-286 323 S, Peoria 3, Chicago, Ill.
¥ =
bsg ~
S
50
Eulogia Lozade’s downfall came when he enlisted the aid of a
cab driver to help him hoist a bulky bundle to his shoulder
For the first time he realized that this was no lovers’
quarrel. Blossom Martin was no longer his girl.
His expression changed. “If I can’t have you nobody
can,” he said. Then he sprang forward and grabbed the
girl’s throat with his strong hands. She tried to scream,
but couldn’t. His fingers tightened and there was a
guttural sound. Her knees buckled and she went limp.
He held her that way for a long time, until he knew
she was dead.
When Lozade finally let go she fell back on the floor.
He took her by the feet and dragged her into the hall.
Then he pulled her legs up and crossed her feet and
hands. He went to the dining room closet and got a
green curtain and some cord. He tied the feet at the
ankles, the hands across the breast and flexed the legs
against the body. Then he wrapped the torso in the
curtain, threw in the cape and cap and tied the bundle
tight.
There was blood from the girl’s nose and mouth. It
was on the stairs and the walls and Lozade’s clothes.
He washed it all away. Then he carried the bundle to
the street, into Central Park and hailed a cab.
“How much will you charge to take me to South
Ferry?” he asked.
The cab driver looked at jhim and then at the bun-
dle. “It’ll run about three dollars,” he said.
“All right,” Lozade told him, opening the door and
putting the bundle on the floor of the back seat.
It was a hot night—June 8th, 1923. There was almost
no conversation between Lozade and the cab driver.
The man who had just murdered Blossom Martin and
was taking her corpse to the tip of Manhattan, South
Ferry, believed that he had thought of a way to dispose
of the body. The plan was to board the ferry bound for
Staten Island. There shouldn’t be many people on the
St. George ferry at that time of night. Lozade was go-
ing to throw the bundle into New York Bay under the
cover of darkness.
When they arrived at South Ferry he paid the cab
driver and lugged the heavy bundle onto a waiting
ferry. But there were more people going to Staten
Island than he had anticipated. It wasn’t just people
going home. The night was hot and the ferry ride was
one way to cool off. The boat was better lighted than
he had expected, too. He placed the bundle beside the
rail and looked around at the passengers as the boat
pulled out into the bay.
Perhaps it was Lozade’s imagination and perhaps it
was the fact that he knew the bundle was large and
conspicuous, but he thought everybody on the ferry
was looking at him. He decided against throwing the
corpse in the bay. It would be safer somewhere in New
Jersey. He would get off the ferry at St. George, take
a cab to Howland Hook and then another ferry over to
Elizabethport in New Jersey. There were fewer people
over there. It would be safer.
That’s what Eulogia Lozade planned to do. When the
boat docked at the St. George ferry house he picked the
bundle up and carried it ashore. There was a taxi driv-
er looking for a fare just outside the ferry house.
Lozade went up to him and asked how much it would
cost to ride to the Elizabethport ferry at Howland
Hook.
“About three dollars and a half,” the cab driver told
him.
“That’s too much,” Lozade said.
The cab driver could see that the man was just about
weighted down with the big bundle. He watched him
carry it over and rest it on the steps of the building
just outside the ferry house.
Lozade left it there a moment while he went over
and questioned a second,cab driver about the cost of
the trip to Howland Hook* The first cab driver went on
his business of trying to pick up a fare from the pas-
sengers coming off the ferry, but he didn’t get any.
When he returned to his cab he saw Lozade sitting in
the back seat. The bundle was propped up on the two
jump seats.
“Go on to the Elizabethport ferry,” Lozade told the
cab driver. ‘“I’ll pay the three-fifty.”
On the way there he asked if there was any place he
could get a drink of water. The cab driver stopped at
a gas station and waited for him.
When Lozade climbed back into the cab he dis-
lodged the bundle on the jump seats and it slipped to
the floor of the cab.
Nothing else happened until they got to Howland
Hook and the Elizabethport ferry. Then Lozade paid
his fare through the window. But when he started tug-
ging at the bundle he found it had become stuck be-
tween the seats when it fell to the floor. He couldn’t get
it out.
The cab driver was anxious to get back to his regular
a aes
Romano had
pair didn’t take
as weren’t dis-
edented action,
iblic hearing to
fred the fatal
iring succeeded
ce a few more
its maintained
three prisoners
the judge for
ll didn’t know
omed to die or
idow was called
judge said. “I
id these men to
> jury recom-
. do in a felony
erride the rec-
© your wishes?”
ed a moment.
lible voice, she
in capital pun-
desire to do
ttenced the trio
ITE
n and Byron
I've told you
said until the
tive Van Wag-
get a bite to
wagon.
rney William
» saying that
arty at South
thers as they
igon. By that
convinced that
ially committed
i a hand in it.
roceed to the
t 87th Street as
te to eat. When
{ police from
ilready there.
was taking
asement stair-
t floor. The
ed definite evi-
ished recently.
tossed to one
‘en kicked out
truggle. One
te of the one
sody of the
1 a dining room
r left the pris-
-’s charge and
n the first floor
ightened little
iewed by of-
treet station.
their brother,
previous day
ie is up in the
hem said. “We
1€@ was men-
entified him as
both said he
respectful and
is in his work.
in a rear
lived there
She was
AT
INO.
our brother’s nurse. She worked here
and lived outside.”
“Did she ever complain of Lozade’s
annoying her with his attentions?”
Van Wagner wanted to know.
“Not of his attention,” one of the
ladies said, “but she did complain that
he was not cooperative in answering
the telephone and other things. Eulo-
gia denied this, however.”
Assistant District Attorney Ryan
and Van Wagner went to Lozade’s
third floor room. It was as neat as a
pin. Carefully pressed suits were
stretched on hangers; gaudily striped
ties were draped on a tie-rack along-
side the dresser, on which was an
array of pomades and cosmetics.
“Tozade must have envisioned him-
self quite a ladies’ man,” Van Wagner
said to Ryan.
In one corner was a wash basin
with running water. What appeared
to be small spots of blood were on
the white enamel. A pair of gray
flannel trousers and a white sports
shirt were crumpled up in the corner
of a closet. They had obviously been
recently washed and were still damp
in spots.
“Somebody was in an awful hurry,”
Ryan said, examining the objects.
“These rings surrounding particularly
hard rubbed portions tell us the
story.”
When Van Wagner and Ryan went
downstairs again they were told that
the jeweler who had sold Lozade the
woman’s diamond ring had been lo-
cated and he had said that Lozade had
told him that the ring was intended
for his girl friend.
On the basis of the facts as _ the
detectives knew them they tried to
reconstruct an imaginary picture of
the crime. Everything pointed to Eulo-
gia Lozade as a rejected lover who,
alone in the the doctor’s house with
the girl, strangled her to death when
she resisted his advances.
“For some reason or other,” Van
Wagner told the other officers, “the
ringing of a telephone has a tremen-
dously disturbing effect on Lozade.”
Then he described the scene in the
Staten Island police station when the
butler refused to say anything until
the ringing of the telephone had such
an obvious effect on him and he did
what little talking he had done so far.
“If somebody went outside and
called this house,” the detective chief
suggested, “I feel sure Lozade would
make an admission of some kind.”
“All right,” Ryan said, “we’ll take
him into the doctor’s office for ques-
tioning. One of the men from the
100th Street station can go outside
and call in. We’ll let the telephone
ring and see what happens.”
The scene was set and the green
portiere from the closet was brought
in. Lozade was seated in a chair cus-
tomarily occupied by patients, along-
side the doctor’s desk. Assistant Dis-
trict Attorney Ryan sat in the doctor’s
chair. By arrangement none of the
officers spoke. Lozade sat motionless,
waiting.
The effect of the sudden ringing of
the telephone was startling. Its peal-
ing crashed through the stillness like
some weird alarm.
Lozade stiffened in his chair. His
body arched as if he had received an
electric shock. Again and again the
bell shrilled its summons until finally
Ryan lifted the receiver. He listened
in silence and then, after a full two
minutes, replaced the receiver on its
hook.
Turning to the tense prisoner he
said, “Now Lozade you know you are
under arrest for the murder of Blos-
som Martin. Are you ready to make
a statement?”
The prisoner looked first at Ryan
and then at Van Wagner. “Yes,” he
said, “I’ll make a statement. That girl
was always making trouble for me.
She led me on. I bought one ring for
her and she said it was too small.
She told the doctor I wouldn’t answer
the telephone. She lied about many
other things. I bought her another
ring. A bigger one. The one you found
in my pocket. Before I was ready to
ive it to her I found out she was dif-
erent to me in front of people than
she was when we were alone. I didn’t
like that. I was afraid she’d turn me
down after I gave her the ring. I told
her if I ever get it to her it would
be in front of the doctor. I wanted
him to know about us.”
“We think you killed Blossom Mar-
tin because you wanted her to love
you and she wouldn't,” Ryan said.
“No,” Lozade told him, “she always
made trouble for me. First I gave
her 50 dollars. Then I helped pay
for her rooms. Some weeks I gave
her 10 dollars and some weeks I gave
her 12. She always wanted something
—when no people were around. Then
last night she told me she had an-
other man.”
Lozade re-enacted the tragic events
of the previous evening. He admitted
that he strangled Blossom Martin, but
claimed she had come at him with a
knife and that he had acted in self-
defense.
The mystery of his violent reactions
to the ringing of the telephone was
explained when he said the nurse had
accused him of not ever answering
the telephone and telling the doctor
that he was not doing his job.
“Every time the telephone rang,” he
said, “I would run from whatever
part of the house I was working in
to answer it. My work has been satis-
factory whenever I was employed. I
wanted the doctor to know that girl
was lying about me.”
Lozade was taken to Tombs Prison
later that same day. The physician
there examined him for any marks or
abrasions that he might claim were
put on him by detectives in obtaining
a confession. Photographs were taken
to prove physical persuasion had not
been used.
Despite these F agetageirr ee: Eulogia
Lozade presented a pitiable figure
when he appeared in the prisoner’s
dock at his trial. There was a big sore
near his right eye and many bad
burns on his chest. These, he claimed,
had been put there by the officers
when they got him to confess the
crime.
Assistant District Attorney Ryan
proved to the court that Lozade had
deliberately burned himself with a
cigar while in prison in the Tombs.
The doctor’s examination and the
photographs taken at the time he was
sent to the downtown prison bore out
the state’s testimony that Lozade had
not been “worked over.”
Lozade’s attorney attempted to
prove that his client had acted in self-
defense, but the jury remained un-
convinced. They reasoned that the
doctor’s butler was a rejected lover
who killed nurse Blossom Martin
when she refused his advances.
They returned a verdict of guilty
of murder in the first degree.
Eulogia Lozade was executed in the
electric chair at Sing Sing at 11:15
Anatone gives healthful
Support while it slims!
Supports sagging stomach muscles.
Helps you get blessed relief from
nagging backache. Slims inches off
your waist. The scientifically-devel-
oped ANATONE BELT now helping
thousands of men in all walks of life.
Made of elasticized fabric with rein-
forced stitching, special stays to pre-
vent wrinkling and rolling, No crotch
piece. Forget diets, forget exercises
. results guaranteed or purchase
price back. Waist sizes 26” thru 52”
Introductory mail
order price—mail
coupon today.
$478
10 day free trial
«+.send no money
a LE NE eT LY YT SY ST SS
MAGIC-MOLD, nc., dept. A24t
467 Livonia Ave., B’klyn 7, N. Y.
Send me for 10 days’ FREE TRIAL an ANATONE
BELT. ! will pay postman $4.98 (plus postage).
If not completely satisfied, ! may return the
ANATONE for full refund ‘of purchase price.
My waist measure is...... dedtasoxvvans
DIME ...,scoreorosssanees
Address
City
(0 Save money. Enclose money now and we pay
postage. Same money-back guarantee. Add 50c
yt
on July 25th, 1924. THe END
extra on Canadian and Foreign orders. Prepaid only. H
See eee er am SE NY EE ae cereal
MONEY MAKING OPPORTUNITY
FOR YOU WITHOUT INVESTMENT!
No experience needed to act as our Local
Dealer for MASTER Work Uniform garments.
Every busi concern a prospect. Adver-
tising embroidered on garments isa big sales
feature. Stores can’tcompete. You can easily
earn up to many thousandsof dollars yearly.
We supply all Sales Equipment FREE, Write
GEO. MASTER GARMENT Div.
636 WATER STREET, LIGONIER, INDIANA
Shrinks Hemorrhoids
New Way Without Surgery
Science Finds Healing Substance That
Relieves Pain—Shrinks Hemorrhoids
For the first time science has found a
new healing substance with the astonishing
ability to shrink hemorrhoids and to relieve
pain — without surgery.
In case after case, while gently relieving
pain, actual reduction (shrinkage) took
place,
Most amazing of all — results were so
thorough that sufferers made astonishing
statements like “Piles have ceased to be a
problem!”
The secret is a new healing substance
(Bio-Dyne*)—discovery of a world-famous
research institute,
This substance is now available in sup-
pository or ointment form under the name
Preparation H.* Ask for it at all drug count-
ers—money back guarantee, *Reg. U.S. Pat. Off.
’ and
iimost
iriver.
1 and
South
lispose
nd for
on the
5 go-
er the
1e cab
/aiting
Staten
people
e was
i than
ie the
boat
ips it
e and
ferry
gz the
New
take
ver to
people
en the
ed the
driv-
vould
wiand
r told
about
i nim
lding
over
st of
ton
pas-
any.
ng in
e two
i the
ice he
ped at
» dis-
ed to
wland
> paid
i tug-
k be-
n’t get
gular
stand at the St. George ferry, so he climbed out and
helped Lozade. Between them they got the bundle out
and the cab driver helped Lozade hoist it to his shoul-
der.
The man with the corpse was already past the ticket
office and was boarding the boat when the thought hit
the cab driver.
There was something mighty queer about that bun-
dle!
It had felt warm and soft-like. A kind of sickening
feeling came over him as he thought of the possibility
that the bundle might contain a human corpse.
He jumped out of the cab, ran toward the ferry house
and dashed down the runway just as the boat cleared
off.
“Stop the boat!” he shouted. “Don’t let that man
with the bundle throw it overboard!”
Police Sergeant John Miller came running up to the
cab driver. ‘‘What’s the trouble?” he asked.
The cab driver hesitated only a moment. Then he
told Miller what he suspicioned. The sergeant shouted
to the deck hands to tell wre captain to back the boat
into the slip and grab the man with the bundle.
Lozade heard all this and made a dash for the rail.
He was about to throw the bundle over the rail when
deck hands ran forward and stopped him. He fought
like a wildcat, but by the time the boat was made fast
again the crew had him trussed up with ropes.
Sergeant Miller took the prisoner ashore; and when
the deck hands put the bundle the man had tried to
throw overboard down the wrappings became un-
fastened a bit—and a woman’s foot became visible.
That was all the officer needed to be sure the taxi
driver’s suspicions were correct. He called Chief of De-
tectives Ernest Van Wagner and told him to send over
a patrol wagon to bring in a prisoner. “I arrested him
while he was attempting to dispose of a body,’ Miller
said.
Taken back to the West New Brighton station house
and confronted by Chief Van Wagner, Detective John
Piscopo and Dr. George P. Mord, deputy medical ex-
aminer for Richmond County, Lozade refused to talk.
An officer who had accompanied Sergeant Miller and
the prisoner in the station wagon placed the bundle on
a table.
While the prisoner looked on stolidly the physician
unwrapped the package, which measured about two
feet by three and a half. The outer covering was of
heavy, green curtain cloth.
First to be disclosed was the dark bobbed hair and
the head of a young woman, her face bloodstained. The
body was clothed in a white linen suit such as nurses
wear. A. patent leather pump dangled from one foot.
On the left arm was a small gray bag containing a few
coins, a lipstick and a silver vanity case. A nurse’s cape
and cap were rolled into the compact bundle.
Bloody discolorations covered the face, and there
were cuts and scratches on the hands and wrists.
Purplish bruises were on her throat, which plainly
indicated that strangulation had been the cause of
death.
Blossom Martin was dressed in her white linen nurse’s
uniform when she came face to face with violent death
When the prisoner refused to talk, Van Wagner or-
dered Detective Piscopo to search him. A small sheaf
of bills, a woman’s diamond ring, a receipt from a
jewelry installment firm and a man’s business card
were found.
Van Wagner instructed the lieutenant on duty at
the desk to locate the home address of the jeweler and
get in touch with him at once.
Just then the telephone rang. Van Wagner noticed
that the effect of the telephone ringing was startling to
the prisoner. His eyes rolled. His hands clenched and
unclenched spasmodically. The detective chief signaled
to the operator to delay plugging in.
As peal after peal shrilled through the dead silence
that had fallen on the room, the prisoner looked at the
body of the dead girl with a strange, questioning ex-
pression and then broke into an explosion of weird
laughter. Van Wagner crossed over to the switchboard
and told the operator to take the call. It was unim-
portant, but it had served a purpose that was to come
out later.
“All right,” the detective chief said to the prisoner.
“If you won’t talk we can get the information we want
over the telephone.”
“Tl talk,” Lozade said. Then he told Van Wagner
his name. “A man who said he was a doctor gave me
that girl’s body in Manhattan,” the prisoner continued.
“He gave me money and told me to get rid of the body.”
When he paused the detective chief prompted him.
“We know you got on the boat at South Ferry,” he
said. “Where did you start out from?”
Lozade gave a number on West 87th. Street.
“Who lives there?” Van Wagner asked.
Lozade named a doctor who was prominent and
widely respected throughout (Continued on page 78)
78
went under Sergeant Butts’ micro-
scope. It had been fired by Patrolman
Fritz. The officer was already rein-
stated, and this time he was awarded
the Combat Cross.
On January 2nd, 1946, the search
for Romano ended.
The Brooklyn youth was seated in
an automobile parked not far from
his home or from the very seat of the
police investigation. Police Sergeant
Ulrich Otto, on his way to the station
to report for duty, spotted the license
plate and recalled it was a stolen one.
By sheer coincidence, Patrolman
Joseph Quinn, on foot duty, and
Patrolmen Edward Connell and Wil-
liam Byrne, in a radio car, saw the
license plate at about the same mo-
ment Otto did. The four officers closed
in as Romano bolted from the car. He
raced down an.alleyway, broke into a
rear yard, and reached the back of a
house on Rutland Road. Romano
smashed a window and was about to
climb in when the officers began
shooting.
“T give up,” he yelled.
He was bleeding heavily, and the
cops thought he’d been shot. But Ro-
mano had slashed his right wrist
breaking the window. He was quick
to confess, but he denied having fired
any shots during the holdup.
Russell Donohue was seized three
weeks later, on January 24th, in
Houston, Texas, where he worked as
a refrigeration mechanic under a
name he assumed after stealing a
draft card. A former shipmate spotted
Donohue, became _ suspicious and
called the FBI. Donohue was arrested
and subsequently flown back to New
York in Detective Murphy’s custody.
“We had no plan,” Russell Donohue
confessed. “My brother and I went in
first. A few seconds later, the other
two followed. One of our fellows got
the money from the till while we
covered the place. There was much
hollering. I don’t know who killed
Davis.”
With the three men in tow, Detec-
tive Wirtz again flew out to Kansas
City, this time to return with David
Donohue. The youth, paralyzed from
the waist down, was jailed in a prison
ward in Kings County Hospital. He
died May 5th, but not before repudi-
ating his confession and claiming his
brother and he weren’t in on the
stickup but were out that night cele-
brating the birth of Russell’s child.
Three weeks later, the three re-
maining defendants were tried before
Kings County Judge Samuel S. Lei-
bowitz, formerly a nationally known
criminal lawyer. A jury found the
trio guilty of first-degree murder, but
recommended mercy. Leibowitz, how-
ever, didn’t immediately go along
with the verdict. He polled the jury
and learned that mercy wouldn’t have
been recommended if the jurors had
known Giarraffa and Romano had
police records. As the pair didn’t take |
the stand, their records weren't dis-
cussed. In an unprecedented action,
Leibowitz held a public hearing to
determine just who fired the fatal
shots. But all the hearing succeeded
in doing was to make a few more
headlines. The bandits maintained
their silence.
On July 10th, the three prisoners
were brought before the judge for
sentencing. They still didn’t know
whether they were doomed to die or
serve a life term.
The slain boxer’s widow was called
to the witness stand.
“Mrs. Davis,” the judge said. “I
have the power to send these men to
the electric chair. The jury recom-
mended life, as it can do in a felony
murder, but I can override the rec-
ommendation. What are your wishes?”
The widow pondered a moment.
Then, in a hardly audible voice, she
said: “I don’t believe in capital pun-
ishment. Whatever you desire to do
is all right with me.”
Judge Leibowitz sentenced the trio
to life in prison.
Eprtror’s Nore:
The names Sally Dunn and Byron
Dake, are fictitious.
HE KNEW SHE WAS DEAD
(Continued from page 51)
Greater New York and its suburbs.
The Staten Island detective was
shocked, but he asked, “What’s this
girl’s name?”
“She’s Blossom Martin. She’s his
nurse.”
“Where did you get that diamond
ring?”
“T bought it.”
“Did you kill this woman?”
“No. The doctor gave me _ that
bundle. I had known the girl only
one day.”
Van Wagner questioned the pris-
oner at length after that, but Lozade
had said as much as he was going to
say. The detectives held him on a
charge of attempting to dispose of a
body illegally; and he was taken up-
stairs for fingerprinting.
It was difficult to believe there
could have been intimate relations
between the prisoner and the dead
girl because it was evident despite the
mutilations and discolorations that she
had been a beautiful girl. Lozade was
not the kind of person one would ex-
pect her to be seen with.
At the time this story took place
the Staten Island Detective Bureau
was located right next to the St.
George ferry house. That was the
same building where Lozade had
rested his grim cargo of death on the
steps while he tried to bargain with
taxi drivers about the trip to How-
land Hook and the Elizabethport
ferry!
The detectives agreed that Lady
Luck had been kind to them that
night. It could have been entirely
possible for Eulogia Lozade to. dump
the bundle containing Blossom Mar-
tin’s body right on the Detective
Bureau steps and clear out.
The peri eyes bore a puzzled,
worried expression when he_ was
brought back from the fingerprinting
department. He remained quite in-
different to the corpse on the table,
but regarded his ink stained fingers
with awed curiosity.
After instructions had been left to
have the dead : body removed to
the Richmond County morgue for the
autopsy, which would be performed
by Dr. Charles Norris, Chief Medical
Examiner, Detectives Van Wagner
and Piscopo and Sergeant Miller left
the station house with the prisoner.
When they arrived at the St. George
ferry house where Lozade had hired
the taxi they boarded a boat bound
for South Ferry in Manhattan. It was
four o’clock in the morning. Liners
and tramp steamers lay at anchor,
awaiting the arrival of Health and
Immigration authorities who would
board them after dawn. Their lights
pierced the darkness; and across the
water came the mournful tolling of
bell buoys.
Chief Van Wagner watched Lozade
surreptitiously. They were travelin
the same course over which he ha
borne his grisly burden only a few
hours earlier. Occasionally the pris-
oner’s hands twitched—opened and
closed in convulsive clutches.
Finally Van Wagner spoke. “I want
you to understand that you are under
arrest,” he said to the prisoner as the
boat drew near the South Ferry slip,
“and that anything you say can be
held against you. Are you willing to
make a full statement and tell us
just how that girl was murdered and
how you managed to bring the body
over to Staten Island on a boat loaded
with passengers?”
Eulogia Lozade said, “I’ve told you
all I know about her.”
Nothing more was said until the
boat docked and Detective Van Wag-
ner suggested that they get a bite to
eat in an all night lunch wagon.
Assistant District Attorney William
Ryan had sent a message saying that
he would meet the party at South
Ferry. He joined the others as they
entered the lunch wagon. By that
time Van Wagner was convinced that
if Lozade had not actually committed
the murder, he had had a hand in it.
The plan was to proceed to the
doctor’s house on West 87th Street as
soon as they’d had a bite to eat. When
they arrived they found police from
the 100th Street station already there.
An official photographer was taking
pictures of the inside basement stair-
way leading to the first floor. The
walls end floors showed definite evi-
dence of having been washed recently.
Two small rugs were tossed to one
side as if they had been kicked out
of the way during a struggle. One
green portiere—a duplicate of the one
that had wrapped the body of the
dead girl—was found in a dining room
closet. ;
Detective Van Wagner left the pris-
oner in Sergeant Miller’s charge and
went into the library on the first floor
where he found two frightened little
old ladies being interviewed by of-
ficers from the 100th Street station.
They told him that their brother,
the doctor, had left the previous day
on his honeymoon. “He is up in the
Adirondacks,” one of them said. “We
have already notified him.”
When Lozade’s name was men-
tioned these women identified him as
the doctor’s butler. They both said he
had always been most respectful and
that he was conscientious in his work.
They added that he lived in a rear
room on the third floor.
Asked if Miss Martin lived there
too, one of them said, ‘‘No. She was
our brother’s nurs¢
and lived outside.
“Did she ever co:
annoying her with.
Van Wagner wantec
“Not of his atte:
ladies said, “but she
he was not cooper:
the telephone and 0’
gia denied this, hov
Assistant Distric*
and Van Wagner
third floor room. It
pin. Carefully pr
stretched on hang‘
ties were draped 0:
side the dresser,
array of pomades <
“Lozade must ha
self quite a ladies
said to Ryan.
In one corner
with running wat:
to be small spots
the white ename
flannel trousers <
shirt were crump:'
of a closet. They
recently washed
in spots.
“Somebody was
Ryan said, exam
“These rings sur!
hard rubbed po
story.”
When Van Waz:
downstairs again '
the jeweler who !
woman's diamon
cated and he haa
told him that t!
for his girl frie:
On the basis
detectives knew
reconstrugt an ir
the crime. Every?!
gia Lozade as
alone in the the
the girl, strangle
she resisted his :
“For some rea
Wagner told th:
ringing of a tele:
dously disturbing
Then he describ:
Staten Island po!
butler refused t
the ringing of th:
an obvious effec’
what little talki
“If somebody
called this hous
suggested, “I te
make an admissi
“All right,” Rs
him into the do
tioning. One 0!
100th Street st:
and call in. We
ring and see wh
The scene wa
ortiere from th:
in. Lozade was s
tomarily occuplé
side the doctor's
trict Attorney R:
chair. By arran
officers spoke. |
waiting.
The effect of *
the telephone °
ing crashed thr
some weird ala
Lozade stiffer
body arched as
electric shock
bell shrilled its
Ryan lifted th«
in silence and '
minutes, replac:
hook.
Turning to
lst backed ap
/
@
Dont trast any New fork case that
"Yesterday JOHN LUPTON was executed pursuant to his
sentence for highway robbery."
Source: The New York Datly Advertiser of 5-23-1789
Note: The above citation nails down another
entry from the Tombs. And it will probably
be the final one. Three forgers named
Morehouse, Youngs and Waters were condemned
along with Lupton on the same day (per ibid.
issue of 5-11-1789), but no further mention
of them is found. It is highly probable
that they got off the hook despite their
also being noted by the ZYombs author.
You have said that you are inclined to
credit the above author because you think
that he had access to the prison records.
After assimilating the surviving court
records with EVERY SINGLE surviving news-
paper from the period 1784-1796, (New York
City newspapers), I am arrived at the con-
clusion that the Tombs author got his data
from the prison's admittance journals in
which were noted convicts received under
sentence of death. And the author just
took it for granted that they had been ex-
ecuted. Of course, some were indeed executed.
But many were not.
You will recall that this author chalked up
the 1784 case of Tunis Casey. Yet that per-
son's death sentence was later found to have
been commuted by the State Legislature. I am
convinced that most, if not all, of the others
which are unsupported by contemporary news
accounts are actually gubanatorial commutation
cases. But alas, the Governor's records from
this period have not survived and weg are thus
unable to lay the matter to rest in a defin-
itive manner.
b ‘f 4 Conlemporary Yéws account
his “one, two and Uiree beasus wise
More and more, as the officers pieced
the bits of information together, they
centered their interest on Harry Cor-
nish. They couldn’t learn of any in-
by Harry Cornish.
“Considering the fact that Cornish
was instrumental in Harpster getting
the job, you would: think he would
applied to me for a position as col-
lector. He did not refer to you but
‘mentioned having been in your em-
ploy. A line from you would be con-
.
rocked New York City’s society crowd
at the beginning of the Twentieth”
Century.
The Polo Boy—The Model—and the Stickup Killing (Continued from Page 11)
down the district near 81st Street and
pick up any suspicious characters they
might see. Other men were assigned to
watch over the car until finger-print
experts arrived and until the body was
taken to the morgue.
Then he and Lieutenant Kiernan
drove to the East 67th Street Station.
The girl was waiting to be questioned,
he learned. A matron had given her
several sedatives and had calmed her
somewhat. The matron already had
learned that the girl’s name was Mary
Jane Cassidy. She was 21 years of age,
employed as a model for Nicole De
Paris, Inc., and living at the Guilford
Hotel on 81st Street.
Inspector Kenny raised his eye-
brows. Nicole De Paris, Inc., he knew,
was an exclusive milliner. And more
than that—the Guilford Hotel was
directly opposite the spot where Max-
well had been stricken.
The girl was brought in and again
Kenny’s brows raised. She was at-
tractive, young, well-groomed, fresh-
looking although her face still showed
the. strain of the horrible events
through which she had passed.
For a brief moment Inspector Kenny
stared at her. Then he asked her to be
seated and said, “Now tell me every-
thing that’s happened.”
HE girl looked toward the floor and
bit her lip.
“We just got home,” she said. “We
just got home and—” She stopped.
“Go on,” Kenny urged.
“Harry and I had just parked in
front of my home when two men came
up,” she said. “They said they were go-
ing to take us for a ride.
“Harry and the man on_his side
fought for a few minutes. Then they
made a funny noise—it sounded like a
pop—and ran away. Harry fainted
then.”
A funny noise—Inspector Kenny sat
forward. Was this important? He
asked her, “Did you see a gun?”
“No, I didn’t. The two men were
trying to ge: into the car. There was a
struggle bevs-een Harry anc the man
on his side.”
“what did these men look like?”
“The one on my side was young, say
twenty-five. He was dark and he shad
a large nose. He tried to push me into
the small seat in the rear of the coupe.
The other man was about the same
age. His face was pockmarked, It was
really pitted. His eyes were sunken
so—they terrified me.”
“Tell me just when you met Mr.
Maxwell last night and every place
you visited,” the Inspector said.
“] met Harry at seven o’clock last
night: We didn’t have any special place
to go so we used the car and drove to
Newark, New Jersey. \
“At Newark we visited Mrs. Klein-
hams, a sister of Harry’s. We stayed
there a few minutes. We also stopped
at the home of James Eben, an old
school chum of Harry’s.
“Tt must have been eleven o’clock
when we got back in New York. Harry
said he would like to have a dance and
some drinks so we went to a night-
club. We remained there until closing
time. Oh, it must have been nearly
four o’clock when we left there. It
was a nice night and we decided to
take a drive through the park. We re-
turned up the east side on Fifth Av-
enue. It was nearly daylight when we
stopped outside my home.”
Tears were coursing down her face
and Mary Jane was showing the strain.
She begged to be excused for a few
minutes. ,
She was taken to an officer’s private
quarters and, under the watchful care
of a matron, made comfortable. The
Inspector explained that they would
like to have her remain on the prem-
ises so she could look at any of the
_suspects that were being brought in
for questioning.
Kenny called in his immediate assist-
ants and said, “This is a weird case.
Maxwell and this girl were held up.
He’s dead, we don’t know what from
except that it is probably a heart at-
tack. She says there was a pop before
these men ran away. I don’t like that.”
The telephone on the Inspector’s
desk rang. Doctor Vance was calling
from the morgue.
“Inspector,” said the Doctor, “you
$ ’
have a murder on your hands.”
“A murder? What do you mean?”
“I mean that Maxwell was killed.
He was shot and I have removed a .32
caliber slug from his chest.”
Kenny sputtered.
“There wasn’t a drop of blood in the
car—”
“I know what you are thinking. But
you’re wrong. It happened in the car,
all right. It was a most peculiar wound.
“The slug penetrated the left side
under the ribs and pierced both the
heart and the lungs. He had extensive
internal hemorrhages but not a drop
of blood seeped through the wound to
his clothing. He was killed instantly.”
“That means that Miss Cassidy—”
Inspector Kenny stopped suddenly,
realizing the full import of this.
The Inspector dropped the instru-
ment into the cradle.
Murder! Harry Maxwell had been
shot to death! But why? By whom?
Two thugs in an attempted holdup?
Or—
Kenny stopped this mad train of
thought. He had a job ahead of him
now. First duty was to notify District
Attorney Dewey’s and Commissioner
Valentine’s offices. Then the dragnet.
And after that—
Four men, hard in the foul ways of
the world, three of them ex-convicts,
had been caught in the dragnet, wan-
dering around the neighborhood of the
crime. They were asked to give a full
report of their activities during the
past 24 hours. But every one of them
was able to call upon relatives and
friends to establish his innocence be-
yond a shadow of a doubt.
As each suspect was questioned In-
spector Kenny realized the need for
cooperation of every man on the force.
If this were a holdup, he knew, previ-
ous crimes by these men might not
have been reported to the police if
furtive lovers were involved. And if
no holdup was intended, the police
work was doubly difficult.
Kenny, in discussing the case with
Dewey and Valentine, remembered
that a similar technique of robbing
parked cars had been used in two
other robberies reported during recent
weeks. The bandits—always two of
them—would enter the cars of their
victims, drive them to a deserted sec-
tion of the city, relieve them of their
jewels and money and then toss them
from the cars. E
The Inspector dug up the reports.
First came the robbery of Mrs. William
I. Spiegalberg and Frederick Berlinger,
who were victims of bandits in the
“before dawn” of March 22.
HE two were in Berlinger’s car when
they paused for a traffic light at
Park Avenue and 85th Street. Two
men stepped into the car and forced
the couple into the rear compartment.
They drove the victims to a deserted
section in Queens County and released
them after taking a large amount of
cash and jewels valued at $2,000.
Second of these robberies was the
holdup of Harold Frazer and his fian-
cee, Muriel Arnoff, on April 6, about
the same hour in the morning. They
were taken for a ride in similar fashion
and relieved of their valuables.
In both cases, the reports showed,
the men appeared to be swarthy com-
plexioned, in their early twenties, and
one of them had a rough face.
Miss Cassidy, Kenny remembered
suddenly, had described one of the men
as having a pockmarked face.
Was this the same gang?
Scores of detectives were now re-
porting to Inspector Kenny’s command
and Commissioner Valentine person-
ally ordered them to round up every
criminal—and at once. Among the
plain-clothes men reporting for the
special detail were Detectives Raymond
McGrath and James McDonnell, police
partners for several years.
Detective McGrath read carefully
the description of the “man with the
pockmarked face.” He read it again.
Then he walked up to Inspector Kenny
and said, “We had a few hoodlums in
for questioning recently. One of them
had a pockmarked face. We'll go pick
him up again.”
As they were leaving, Lieutenant
November INTIMATE DETECTIVE STORIES Goes on Sale Friday, October 3
40
ID—8
Killing maa occurieu,
“This looks like a good tip,” said
Inspector Kenny. “He doesn’t name
the feller living in that house but we'll
find out who it is. Send me a couple
of men. Ill direct. this phase of the
investigation.”
At the city mortuary, other detec-
tives were moving quickly through an-
other portion of their duties. Robert
Cc. Maxwell, father of the victim,
fianked by two other sons, had walked
down the cold hall that led to the slabs
jn the autopsy chamber, where they
positively identified the dead man.
The family. briefly outlined
career to the detectives. Harry Max-
well had been born in Trenton, New
Jersey, in 1898, was educated in Law-
renceville prep school and had studied
two years at Princeton. He left Prince-
ton during his second year and was
found months later driving a Red
Cross ambulance in France during the
first World War.
; LS his discharge from the Red
Cross service, where he had been
awarded several citations for bravery
under fire, Harry entered the company
founded by his father many years be-
fore. He devoted his spare time to the
polo fields of the country and was a
ranking player until he sustained a
severe injury in one of the cup
matches. He contracted a heart condi-
tion as a result of the injuries, and he
was forced to the sidelines. ;
In discussing his family life, it was
disclosed that he had _ been married
twice. Both excursions into matrimony
ended in the Nevada divorce marts.
His first wife was the former Gail
Harrison of Pittsburgh, who had been
recognized as a leading woman golfer.
They parted officially on June 1, 1933.
Shortly after the decree was final he
wed Mrs. Caroline Sellers, a Park
Avenue resident. They were divorced
in 1936. of
- But Harry Maxwell’s death had not
been a planned killing, the family in-
sisted. He had no enemies. No one
would want to slay him.
While this was being recorded, De-
tectives William Jones and John
Moran were parking their police car
at Sixth Street and Avenue A, three
blocks from their assignment. Hun-
dreds of men, women and children
cluttered the East Side ghetto district
as the detectives picked their way
unobserved to No. 626. They entered
the vestibule and Jones read the names
of the tenants from the mailboxes as
Moran scribbled them down on paper.
He came to the last name, Mordare-
wich. “That’s familiar,” he said. we |
think I heard it called in the lineup
recently. We better check with the
Bureau of Criminal Identification.”
As they strolled from the premises
to a near-by telephone a car pulled up
to the curb beside them.
“Hey, feller,” shouted a man from
the car. “Where are you headin’ for?”
Jones and Moran wheeled around
m &
of ‘the su:
OR fift:
hard-bi-
gripping
places a
vich to c
inserted
entered.
He fac
and quic
Lo
y
Vincent Kiernan handed the Inspector
a sheaf of mail. ““‘Why don’t you get a
few hours sleep, Inspector?” he asked.
“T’ll stay on duty and get you up if
anything happens.”
“No,” Kenny replied drearily, “I’ll
tead the mail and then take a shower.
That'll wake me up.”
Inspector Kenny had come up the
police ladder the hard way. Time nor
his health nor fear never were part of
his equipment. He had a job to do and
he was going to do it. So he stretched
himself in a swivel chair and opened
his mail.-He made notations on each
letter, then dropped it into the proper
mail . receptacle. j
Suddenly he jumped out of his chair.
An ink-stand went hurtling to. the
floor, a cuspidor was overturned.
“Listen to this!” he yelled at Lieu-
tenant Kiernan. “I’ve got a letter here
from-a feller who says I did him a
favor a couple of years ago on the East
Side. He wants to pay me back. He
says there’s a feller at 626 East Sixth
Street who’s been pulling those auto-
mobile stickups.”
Kiernan grabbed the letter and
looked at the post-mark. It was
stamped _May 3—the day before the
_ killing had occurred.
“This looks like a good tip,” said
Inspector Kenny. “He doesn’t name
the feller living in that house but we’ll
find out. who it is. Send me a couple
of men. I’ll direct this phase of the
investigation.”
At the city mortuary, other detec-
tives were moving quickly through an-
other portion of their duties. Robert
C. Maxwell, father of the victim
flanked by two other sons, had walked
down the cold hall that led to the slabs
in the autopsy chamber, where they
positively identified the dead man.
The family. briefly outlined his
career to the detectives. Harry Max-
well had been born in Trenton, New
Jersey, in 1898, was educated in Law-
renceville prep school and had studied
two years at Princeton. He left Prince-
ton during his second year and was
found months later driving a Red
Cross ambulance in France during the
first World War.
| Uror his discharge from the Red
Cross service, where he had been
awarded several citations for bravery
under fire, Harry entered the company
founded by his father many years be-
fore. He devoted his spare time to the
polo fields of the country and was a
ranking player until he sustained a
severe injury in one of the cup
matches. He contracted a heart condi-
tion as a result of the injuries, and he
was forced to the sidelines. :
In discussing his family life, it was
disclosed that he had been married
twice. Both excursions into matrimony
ended in the Nevada divorce marts.
His first wife was the former. Gail
Harrison of Pittsburgh, who had been
recognized as a leading woman golfer.
They parted officially on June 1, 1933.
Shortly after the decree was final he
wed Mrs. Caroline Sellers, a Park
Avenue resident. They were divorced
in 1936. fi
* But Harry Maxwell’s death had not
been a planned killing, the family in-
sisted. He had no enemies.
would want to slay him.
_ While this was being recorded, De-
tectives William Jones and John
Moran were parking their police car
at Sixth Street and Avenue A, three
blocks from their assignment. Hun-
dreds of men, women and children
cluttered the East Side ghetto district
as the detectives picked their way
unobserved to No. 626. They entered
the vestibule and Jones read the names
of the tenants from the mailboxes as
Moran scribbled them down on paper,
He came to the last name, Mordare-
wich. “That’s familiar,” he said. “I
think I heard it called in the lineup
recently. We better check with the
Bureau of Criminal Identification.”
As they strolled_from the premises
to a near-by telephone a car pulled up
to the curb beside them. -
“Hey, feller,” shouted a man from
the car, “Where are you headin’ for?”
-Jones’:and Moran wheeled around
No one -
quickly and saw Detectives McGrath
and McDonnell in the car.
- The four detectives held a confer-
ence on the sidewalk. McGrath and
McDonnell revealed that they were on
their way to No. 626 to take in a fellow
named Morris Mardavich, who was
pockmarked and had a record as a
bandit. ;
“That’s funny,” remarked’ Jones.
“We were just going to check on a
feller with a name like that.”
The four men went back to No. 626
East Sixth Street and directly to the
apartment listed to Mordarewich. They
knocked on the door.
Nicholas Mordarewich, father of the
suspect, answered the knock. He ad-
mitted reluctantly that his son, who
spelled his name with a slight varia-
tion, was an ex-convict. No, he didn’t
know where Morris was. The son kept
late hours. Yes, Morris was unem-
ployed: He didn’t know where the
boy got his spending money.
After interviewing Nicholas, the de-
tectives literally tore the shabby apart-
ment apart. They tapped the walls
and the furniture legs, ripped mat-
tresses open, explored metal bedsteads
and even the drainpipes of the plumb-
ing. All they found was some clothes
of the suspect.
FoR fifteen minutes the four grim,
hard-bitten detectives, tense fingers
gripping their guns, sat in appointed
places and waited for Morris Marda-
vich to come home. Finally a key was
inserted in the door-lock. A man
entered.
He faced the muzzles of four guns
and quickly raised his hands above his
head. He was frisked and advised that
the police of the East 67th Street Sta-
tion wanted to talk to him.
“T don’t like bulls,” he said.
“Never mind what you like, come
on,” said McGrath.
“Oh, it’s you again. I suppose that
T’ll be wanted for all the murders in
the book this time,” he said sar-
castically.
He was removed from the tenement
and taken to Inspector Kenny’s office.
The Inspector was reading the record
of Mardavich, which had been for-
warded by McGrath and McDonnell
before they went to the suspect’s
ome.
The telltale yellow sheets revealed
that as Morris Mardavich he had been
arrested on January 12, 1934, and sev-
eral times since. He had served a
sentence for burglary.
As he waited questioning in an ante-
room of the Inspector’s office Marda-
vich was perfectly composed—too
composed, the police thought.
Every detective in the Station no-
ticed the pockmarked and sunken eyes,
features that had been emphasized by
Mary Jane Cassidy.
Inspector Kenny presided at the
questioning of Mardavich:
“Mardavich,” thé Inspector said, “I
know that ‘you don’t like officers.
There has been a petty crime staged
in this precinct. We think that you
were one of the men engaged in the
crime or have some knowledge of it.
You help me—lI’ll help you.”
“I don’t hang out uptown,” growled
Mardavich.
The Inspector ignored his sullen-
ness.
“Two fellers held up a man and
woman in a parked car this morning.
The man was shot. Fortunately the
bullet deflected off a brace the man
was wearing and he just got a scratch.
He was scared. Did you do it?”
The suspect breathed a little easier.
He appeared glad: that the intended
holdup victim was only scratched. He
continued his defiance and answered
in the negative.
“Where were you last night?”
“Inspector,” he said, “I was with
some friends. We drank some beer and
then went home. I’m playing the game
straight now. Don’t you think I’ve
been taught a lesson?”
The door of the room creeped open.
Mary Jane Cassidy tip-toed across the
room but not without casting a look in
Mardavich’s direction. She paused to
converse with a detective and then left
the room.
The ex-convict watched the dainty
young lady. He noted the expression
on her face as she looked at him. He
was concerned now.
In the adjoining room Mary Jane
told detectives that she couldn’t posi-
tively identify him but that he defi-
nitely resembled the bandit who shot
Harry Maxwell.
i Sea information was relayed to the
Inspector and he continued his
friendly talk with Mardavich.
“I have some information from a girl
friend of yours—you know, the one
you were with last night—and she said
she saw you with a gun, a .32 caliber
gun. Where is the gun now?”
“T don’t own a gun. I never carried
a gun in my life.”
“You have it your way then,” said
the Inspector. “I’ll have to prefer
charges against you and this dame.”
Mardavich’s jaw clamped. Not a
word came through his pressed lips as
he looked around at the faces of the
detectives who formed a semi-circle
about him. They were faces in deadly
earnest and he realized it.
“The law will be pretty tough on
you this time,” the Inspector warned.
“An assault and attempted robbery
will be a tough rap.”
“T didn’t do it,” he snarled.
The Inspector continued his bluff.
“The clothes these detectives took from
your home have powder, and I mean
gunpowder, on them.”
Mardavich stared at the white-
haired veteran for a few moments. He
stiffened in his chair. His back arched
up and his shoulders began to quake.
“Okay, you win,” he said weakly.
“T shot the feller. I’m glad he wasn’t
killed.”
The bluff had worked. But Kenny
had to continue. There was another
man on this job and he had to be
captured.
“You’re lucky, all right. Who was
with you?”
The ex-convict was going to remain
true to the code of the underworld and
take his punishment alone. He refused
to answer.
Kenny then leaned forward and in-
formed Mardavich, in no uncertain
terms, that he would be charged with
all the robberies of this type that had
occurred in the district recently.
“If you want to be a hero for a pack
of heels, go ahead,” Kenny concluded.
“Tll_ tell you the truth, Inspector.
The feller that was with me is a clean
kid—that is, he hasn’t a record. I only
know his first name. It’s Timmy.”
The name Timmy aroused the in-
terest of Lieutenant Martin Owens,
who asked, “Has this Timmy a hump
on his nose and does he work in East
Side garages?”
The prisoner fidgeted around in his
chair. Kenny urged him to answer the
question. Finally he said that Timmy
was a garage worker before he turned
hoodlum and that he did have a pro-
nounced hump on his nose.
Cyr and Kenny went into a
huddle in an adjoining room and
Owens explained that the Timmy men-
tioned had come to the attention of
police months before. Owens, accom-
panied by members of his own squad,
left for the East Side and Timmy.
Lieutenant Owens and his men soon
located the home of Timmy and hang-
outs and friends of the wanted man.
Every one of these locations was
placed under a 24-hour guard in the
hope that Timmy would make an
appearance. a
Nine days later, on May 13, two de-
tectives were parked in an East Side
garage at 7:45 in the morning, when
the coin-box telephone rang. One of
them answered,
A harsh voice asked for one of the
employes of the garage.
“Jerry is delivering a car,” an-
swered the detective. “Do you want to
leave a message? He asked me to take
any that came in.”
“Who are you?” asked the caller.
“A pal of Jerry’s,” was the answer.
“This is Timmy,” the caller said.
“Okay, what’s the message? Wait a
minute, I think he’s coming in now.”
The detective told his partner to get
You Can \nfluence O
With Your Thi
TRY IT SOME TIME. Concent
tently upon another person seat«
room with you, without his noti
Observe him gradually become rest
finally turn and look in your d
Simple—yet it is a positive demor
that thought generates a mental
which can be projected from your
the consciousness of another. Do y
ize how much of your success and h.
in life depend upon your influencing
Is it not important to you to hav.
understand your point of view—t
ceptive to your proposals?
How many times have you wish
were some way you could impress
favorably—get across to him or |
ideas? That thoughts can be tran
received, and understood by others
scientifically demonstrable.
This FREE Book Points th:
The tales of miraculous accomplishments
by the ancients are now known to be fact—
The method whereby these things can be
TIONALLY, not accidentally, accomplished
a secret long cherished by the Rosicrucian
the schools of ancient wisdom existing thro:
world. Write for the free copy of the :
sealed book, “THE SECRET HERITAG!
explains how you may receive this uniqu
and benefit by its application. Address: Scril
The Rostcructan
CAMORC)
San Jose, California
(NOT A RELIGIOUS ORGANIZATI
sensation
x—The Chis
1
new
men's shoe
cl
com
styles of dress,
sports shoes, Prices as low
as $1.98 4 pair. Fi 10+
second demonstrator sells
super-comfort air-eushion
ar vente aunts sake Noe
experience needed. Write for eeoop tere sales kit
CONSOLIDATED SHOE SYSTEb
Dept. L72, Chippewa Fa!
Help Kidne
If you suffer from Backache, Get
Nights, Nervousness, Leg Pains,
Ankles and feel worn out, due to nor
and non-systemic Kidney and Bladder
you should try Cystex which is givin
elp to thousands. Printed guarantec
back unless completely satisfactory. /
druggist for Cystex today. Only 35c.
MAKE MO
NEW EASY WAY-WITH D,
SPORTSWEAR, AND UNIF,
Make big earnings with famou
advertised Hoover line mt
FREE \ f OW R
Book F&F PAIL
TELLS DPERATOR '
If you want better pay quick, and a job with
Tear Radio, ‘Pelewinion. Thandreds FP train 5
pay. acho bas grown fast, oo still growing |
it pays many $30, $10, $50 a week—why many +
$10 a week extra in spare time while learning.
an help you get better rating. extra pay in Ar
ree 64-page book tells about many good j
unities Radio offers. MAIL THE COUPO
MIG. J.B, SMITIL, Dept. thd
National Radio Institute, Washington, D.C.
Mail me your book FREE. (No salesman v
Write Plainly.)
NAMB... ccecceereeeereees co cceees A‘
oe STATE,
er. Se
tempted to hold them up when they parked and fled
when her escort showed signs of resistance. That
was when her escort fainted.
“That’s all I know,” Fisichello said, “except that
when we got here I looked at the feller and figured
maybe he was dead. I told her and she went into
the building there and called the hospital.”
“Where’s the girl?” Inspector Kenny asked.
NE of the detectives told him. The girl had been
distraught and upset, in no condition to answer
a lot of questions. So she had been sent to the East
67th Street Station.
Kenny strode over to the coupe and peered ir-
side it. The dead man lay in a perfectly natural
position, not stiff or strained. Nowhere, either on
te | ead or on the car itself, was there a sign of
ood,
Kenny shook his head. He’d been wrong again.
Maybe this was death from a heart attack.
But it would bear investigation. Apparently a
holdup was involved, at least.
The Medical Examiner, Doctor Benjamin Vance,
arrived then. He examined the body, too, and said
to Kenny, “Can’t tell a thing without an autopsy
but it looks like a natural death to me.”
Lieutenant Kiernan stepped out of the car. In his
hand he had a wallet, taken from the dead man’s
pocket. He held the wallet open, extended, for the
Inspector to see.
Inside the billfold was $106 in cash.
“Holdup, eh?” said Kiernan.
Kenny didn’t reply. Instead he thumbed through
the identification cards.
The dead man, according to these cards, was
Harry Vance Maxwell of Princeton, New Jersey,
an executive in the Robert C. Maxwell advertising
agency of No. 247 Park Avenue.
Lieutenant Kiernan raised his eyebrows. Harry
Maxwell! The Maxwell family was wealthy, so-
cially prominent, influential. If this should prove
to be something other than natural death, plenty
of heat would be on, the Lieutenant knew. Some-
thing would have to be done. .
Inspector Kenny dispatched half a dozen detec-
tives to cruise up and (Continued on Page 40)
a
While two squads of detectives were
looking for pockmarked Morris Marda-
vich, finger-print experts dusted thor-
oughly the swank death-car, below
Lieutenant Owens on the wire imme-
diately; Timmy was in town.
“That wasn’t him. What’s the mes-
sage?”
“Tell him I’m broke and need some
money right away.”
“Where shall he send it?”
“T’l] meet him at Walker and Center
Street in about a half-hour.”
“Okay, I’ll deliver the message.”
At the designated meeting-place, a
half-hour later, Timmy was observed
walking up and down impatiently. He
wore tan pants, a gray leather jacket
with red trimmings. His shoes were
pointed and featured by high Cuban
heels. The detectives watched him
from a parked car.
Lieutenant Owens and his men
walked straight to their quarry. As
they came within ten feet of him
Owens whipped out his gun and said,
“Don’t move, Timmy, or you'll be full
“of lead.”
The medium-sized bandit with the
hump on his nose, was going to make
a run for it. But two detectives came
up from the rear with guns trained on
him. He threw his hands into the air
and yelled,~“You’ve got me.”
Timmy was ‘searched and then
pushed into a waiting police car. This
took place within the shadows of the
office of District Attorney Dewey.
Some hundred men and women on
their way to business paused to watch
the police close in.
By the time Timmy was shoved into
a chair in the West Twentieth Street
Police Station and set for questioning
all the bravado and toughness had dis-
appeared.
“Pll tell you what happened,” he
said. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
“What’s your real name and where
do you live?” asked Lieutenant Owens.
“My name is Vincent Morgano and
I live at 531 East Thirteenth Street
with my grandmother. I used to work
in garages—until I met Mardavich.”
1= prisoner readily admitted his
part in the slaying of Maxwell.
“You see,” he said, “when Marda-
vich lost his head we had to run for
it. We went to the car and were driven
down to East Fourteenth Street.”
“What do you mean you were driven
down?”
“Yeah, Frank Alascia was waiting
with the car on Lexington Avenue.”
“Where does he live?”
“At 332 East Twelfth Street. He
used to be a mechanic in the garages.
“T’ll Never Marry You
turning to Christensen again, “you said
Henry went uptown last night?” :
“Yes. To the movies. He always
went to a show on Friday night. Right
_ after supper he went out of the house
and I heard him drive away. I knew
that he was going to the early show
and that he’d probably be home about
ten-thirty. It was so much a habit of
_his I didn’t pay any attention to it.”
“J’yve men checking on that,”: Brown
explained to Chief Bangs. “I figure
whoever did this was familiar with
Christensen’s habit of going to a show
on Friday’ night.” .
“Well, if he usually got home at ten-
thirty, where do you suppose he spent
the time from ten-thirty to one or one-
thirty when he was shot?” asked
Bangs. “He didn’t chase around with
women. He was a pretty conservative
sort of man—saved his money, didn’t
drink to excess. What would have
kept him out so late?” :
“Don’t know, but he’s so well known
we ought to be able to find out without
too much trouble.” bs
“There isn’t much more we can do
here,” said Chief Bangs. “Suppose we
go back to Headquarters.”
“Slip on some more clothes, Alex,”
Brown told Christensen. “I want you
to go along with us. Maybe you can
help.”
"| TELL you I didn’t have anything
to do with it,” protested Christen-
can) “There’s work to be done here—
,
“I want to look over the yard a little
more,” Brown said. “Alex, you can
help us a lot here.”
There were two garages back of the
house—one, an old barn, housed a
pick-up truck; the other was the two-
car garage in which Christensen’s body
had been found. The entrances faced
each other and were approximately 50
feet apart. A car could not be driven
into either garage without first going
past the two buildings, then backing
into the entrance to one so that the
front of the car would be headed
straight for the other. The tire-tracks
of an automobile would form a large
cross after such a maneuver.
The doors of the garage in which the
pick-up truck stood were partly open.
“Were they like that last night?”
Brown asked.
“Can’t close them,” Alex replied.
“The doors are not on the hinges but
lean against the front of the building.”
“It’s_a good place for someone to
hide,” suggested Chief Bangs. :
“Just what I was thinking.” Brown
grinned: “Let’s look it over.” ee
— this building and about two
feet from the narrow opening was a
small pile of plaster-board, and on top
of this, several grain sacks ‘had been
folded. Brown examined-these care-
fully, turned to Christensen. “Any-
body come in here yesterday or last
evening and sit on this pile of stuff?”
he asked.
9°
The questioning of Morgano stopped.
Owens sent every available man to
No. 332 East Twelfth Street to arrest
Alascia.
“Tell me where you’ve been hiding,”
said Owens in resuming his examina-
tion of Morgano.
“We drove downtown and Marda-
vich, who was the boss, said that we
should scram out of town for a while.
I took him at his word. I went home,
got eight dollars I had saved and went
to Holland Tunnel, where a fellow
gave me a lift to New Jersey. I got
lifts and hitch-hiked my way to Scran-
ton, Pennsylvania.
“At an agency, I was given a job as
a farm hand. I stayed there until I
read in a paper that Mardavich had
been arrested and confessed. I figured
that he might have blamed me for the
job so I quit and went to Wilkes-Barre,
in the same State, and got a position
as a dishwasher in a restaurant.
“The second night in this place, a
New York car pulled up in front of the
door. Three big fellows got out. They
looked like cops to me so I scrammed
out the back door and walked to
Berwick, a few miles from there.
“By this time I was worried and
broke. I decided to quit my job and
Again”? (Continued from Page 8)
“Henry dead!” exclaimed Seibert.
“Pi bet those were the three shots I
heard.
“What? You heard the shots?” Offi-
cers Merriman and Moore exclaimed
in unison. “Tell us about it.” ~
“T heard three shots at one-thirty.
That’s all. I just heard them.”
“How come you were up so late?”
“TI work late,” Seibert replied. “I get
home every night from the railroad -
yards between twelve-forty-five and
one o’clock. Last night I ate a lunch,
went out and checked the incubator
and came back in to read the evening
paper. I sat by the window over
there.” He pointed. “I can look right
down into Henry’s yard.
“You must have seen him come
home.”
Seibert nodded. “I saw the lights of
his car as he drove in: He has to back
around to get into his garage and by
the way he went about it I knew it
was Christensen. I saw the lights in
the garage go on, the car move for-
ward and a few seconds later I heard
three sharp reports. At the time I
thought they sounded like gun shots,
but figured I must be mistaken.”
on you didn’t do anything about
it?"
“What was there for me to do? I
looked at the place, couldn’t see any-
body, didn’t see any lights go on in the
house, so figured it probably was just
a car backfiring. I went to bed a few
minutes later.”
OTT Ace
lenaw if wae one-
hitch-hike my way back to New York
City and see what the score was.”
Alascia was arrested at his home and
brought to the station house where he
allegedly confessed his part in the
operations of the bandit mob. “I drove
the car for them, that’s all,” he said.
Mary Jane Cassidy was brought
down to the squad rooms and the
minute her pretty eyes struck the
hump-nosed Morgano, she said, ““That’s
the man who was on my side of the
car.”
She failed to identify Alascia.
ISS CASSIDY, of course, had re-
mained at the station only on the
day of the killing, to help police with
her testimony. -
On Friday, May 16, Mardavich,
Morgano and Alascia entered pleas of
not guilty to a murder charge. They
were brought to trial and on July 11,
1941, all three were found guilty of
murder, the jury recommending mercy
for Morgano and Alascia. They may
get life sentences but the electric chair
is mandatory for Mardavich, pending
the outcome of appeals.
Other pictures with this story are on
Page 36.
‘
noticed a small steel safe. It was ap-
proximately eighteen inches high, and
was fastened securely to heavy plank-
ing. Pa :
“Kept his papers here, I suppose,”
Brown said. “We'll have to get it
open.”
Some loose letters shoved under-
neath the safe attracted his attention.
He picked them up, read one or two
passages hurriedly, stuffed them into
his pocket. f
He made another inspection of the
interior of the house, stepped off the
distance from the garage door to the
side of the house directly beneath the
window in Alex Christensen’s room.
Not quite 60 feet. It didn’t seem rea-
sonable the man had not heard the
shooting. °
Back at Central Headquarters
Brown found Chief Bangs studying the
report of the autopsy surgeons. Three
broken-nosed bullets lay on the desk
before him. _ é
_ Chief Bangs pointed. “Thirty-eights.
Battered some but if we find the.gun
there’s enough left to run a ballistics
test. This report has it all - figured.
The first bullet struck him in the right
shoulder, ranged downward and
passed through the bottom of his
heart; the second bullet hit him square
in the chest and apparently was fired
from a point above him. The third
bullet hit him in the temple.”
Alex Christensen fidgeted nervously
in a chair near by while the two offi-
cers discussed the autopsy report.
“I know Henry let her get the <-
vorce end paid her eight hundred c-_-
lars in alimony when the final decr-=
was granted,” added Brown. “! dic= =
know ‘they’d talked about trying +
again.”
“Better talk to her. She migrh.: kn:+
scmeone who quarreled with the ©.i
Man,” Alex suggested. Both off
noted a certain tone in his vo-ce
indicated a coolness toward the <=
wife.
The officers who had been ordez:d
to trace Christensen’s whereabouts =e
previous night reported to the Dete:-
tive Chief.
“Christensen went to the Broadw:y
Theater. The ticket seller remembers
him coming in for the early show
about seven o’clock. He left the thea-
ter about ten and went to his car
parked near by. Something had gone
wrong with the ignition system and he
went to a garage and had the car fixed.
This took until about eleven-thirtty
and he went to Andy’s Soup House at
Eleventh and Broadway, met friends,
visited with them for quite a while. In
fact, it was nearly one o’clock when
they left. He took one of the men to
his home in the south part of town.
This man told us it was one-ten when
Henry started back to his place in the
north of town. It would take him
twenty minutes to make the drive.”
“So all this checks with Seibert’s
story of the time of the shooting,”
commented Brown. “Learn anything
about possible arguments or quarrels
he might have had?”
“There wasn’t any last night. We
made sure of that.” |
acne took the letters he had found
beneath the safe in the Christensen
garage from his pocket. “These_ are
letters from his second wife—the
Johnson woman,” he explained. “]
glanced at them out at the place. Lis-
ten to this—” Brown read aloud from
the letter— ‘You know we both made
mistakes. You were wrong about me
I accused you of things you didn’t do
Let’s start over, and try to make a g&
of it this time.” Brown stopped read-
ing and turned to Bangs. “Alex mus
be right when he said she was tryin;
io make up. She must have cared fo
Henry quite a bit.”
“How old did you say she was?
Bangs asked. es
“About forty-two,” Brown repliec
“Henry was fifty-eight. All of thes
letters run about alike,” he addec
“Alex, what did Henry say about liv
ing with her again?” :
“fie wouldn’t listen to her. Sh
hasn’t been at the house for a lon
time but he got several letters fror
her. I suppose she gave it up asa ba
b. ”
ob.
“Might as well send for her and g¢
her story,” Brown said.
A squad car was dispatched to N:
527 Nineteenth Avenue to bring Katt
erine Johnson to Headquarters. “Whe
she gets here let me talk to her alone
Rrown said. “I’ve known her es lor
5 ae
70
out that Lee would be compelled to
take his gruesome bundle to Manhat-
tan by the quickest route and shortest
walk, decided he had taken the parts
of the body found in Battery Park by
subway under the river. To that end
he questioned Theodore B. Cox, agent
of the Interborough at the Bergen
Street Station.
“GURE, | remember a man with a
package,” said Cox.. “About five-
forty last Friday or fast Saturday
morning, I can’t swear which day, a
man | have often seen in the Majestic
restaurant, which is on Flatbush Ave-
nue, between Bergen Street and Sixth
Avenue, where I eat, came in the station
with a bundle. At the time, I was
talking to a man named Smith, who
comes into the station about that time
every morning. This other man, the
fellow with the bundle, asked me if I
could tell him the way to South Ferry.
At that, Smith spoke up and told him
to change at Atlantic Avenue. I told
him to change at Nevins Street and
save a nickle. Smith figured the man
would take the B. M. T. to Whitehall
Street. I figured that he could take the
Lexington Avenue at Nevins Street and
get off at Bowling Green.”
This was as fine a piece of luck as
the police had chanced upon. The wit-
ness to this, John D. Smith, a chef and
baker, of 543 Bergen Street, Brook-
lyn, was found on the station platform
the following morning.
“Sure! It was last Friday,” said
Smith. “When I enter the station I
always talk to the agent while waiting
for a train. This morning, while we
were chatting this foreign-looking fel-
low comes up, and he has under his arm
a package about a foot and a half or
two feet long, and it smelt to high
heaven. I shall remember it as long
as I live. Why?”
Bishop identified himself to the baker.
and took him to the morgue of the
Forty-second Precinct.
“That’s it!” explained Smith, as he
entered the morgue. “The same odor!”
He picked Lee out of a line-up at
Raymond Street jail an hour later as
the man!
That was early Tuesday morning.
Lee had been arrested Sunday night at
11 o’clock. Noon of that day was to
bring another fragment of a gruesome
nature.
BERNARD KOPS, a taxi driver, of
533 East Second Street, Flatbush,
while at his stand at the Grand Plaza,
Brooklyn, was hailed by a citizen who
said to him:
“Say, buddy, there’s a funny lookin
package lying over there on the grass!
It looks suspicious to me and its odor
is terrible! \What do you say to us
looking it over?”
Officers went with the man to a point
about a hundred yards from the Sol-
diers and Sailors’ Arch, the memorial
erected by the people of Brooklyn, and
under which Admiral George Dewey
and his victorious sailors marched upon
his triumphant return from the Spanish- :
American War. i
They opened the package, saw it con-
tained a human thigh and telephoned
The Master Detective
the police. Detective John J. Keys of
the Forty-second squad arrived there in
a few minutes, followed by Captain
Bishop. Bishop ordered Keyes to take
the fragment to the morgue.
As far as the case was concerned, that
was the last bit of evidence of tangi-
ble nature found. Sections of the left
upper trunk and of the left thigh of
‘Miss Brownell were never discovered.
Mrs. Bennett's whole body was found
in the cellar. Both bodies were recon-
structed, identified and photographed.
Then they were interred.
As the case then stood, Captain Bis-
hop’s men had established motive and
had had Lee identified as the man seen
in the Bergen Street station.
That afternoon the innocence of Jen-
sen was thoroughly established by the
report mdde to the police by Alexander
O. Gettler, toxicologist of the medical
examiner’s office.
Microscopic examination and the pre-
cipitin reaction for human blood in
the test of the scrapings of the finger
nails of Jensen were absolutely nega-
tive.
But a small quantity of blood was
found in the scrapings taken from Lee’s
fingernails!’ There was only enough to
rove that it was blood. Dorie Gett-
et reported a very small amount, but
not enough to permit him to testify
that it was human blood.
The next day there came into the
case the last of those among the two
hundred witnesses whose testimony was
literally a death blow to Lee. The wit-
ness was Mrs. Corneilsen of 5013 Fourth
Avenue, Brooklyn.
Prior to her appearance, no one had ©
been found who actually saw the dis-
tribution of any of the human frag-
ments. This she claimed she saw Lee
do. She told a graphic story, a story
quite characteristic of an observing wo-
man.
Between 10 and I! o'clock, of a day
between July 4th and July 10th, she
just happened to be on Fifth Avenue
at Thirty-sixth Street, waiting for the
traffic signals to change. As she waited
she meee y saw a man standing beside
a hole in the wall of the freight yard
at that point who was very much in-
terested in a bag.
“What was he doing with it?” asked
Captain Bishop, as the woman unfolded
her story in the room in Brooklyn Po-
lice Headquarters where, only the Sat-
urday night before, he had thanked his
lucky stars that the jigg-saw murderer
was in Manhattan ae not in his dis-
trict. That thought came back to him
at that moment, for he felt that if this
swoman could identify Lee, the case
would be practically complete—and in
four days’ work! The rest would be up
to the District Attorney.
“He was holding it, sort of bending
over,” she said. “He seemed to me to
be about to throw it over the wall or
under it, through the hole. That he
was about to do one or the other I am
quite certain, Then, just as he was
about to do it, he found me staring
at him.
“TI walked across the street, as traffic
halted, and he still stood looking at me.’
I had never taken my eyes from him.
He seemed to transfix me. He was a
June, 1930
strange looking. man. His hair was hae eal
coal black. His features seemed good ‘
: . . for the ben.
enough. But .as I looked, Captain, What a li
something said to me, or a thought just There was
occurred to me, or maybe he looked at
me in such a manner; anyway his face
suddenly became murderous. I was
frightened, and | walked away!”
‘APTAIN BISHOP pressed a button.
A detective came.
“George,” he said, “get me that copy
of the photograph of the hole in the
fence where Miss Brownell’s head was
found.”
The detective brought it. The Cap-
tain showed it to the woman.
“That’s the hole he stood by!” she
exclaimed, instantly. “I'll swear to it!”
“Would you know him if you saw
him?”
“Tam sure.”
“You could pick him out from among
many?”
“T could.”
Captain Bishop rose, went to a cor-
ner of his office, took his hat off a rack
and said to Mrs. Corneilsen:
“Madam, you must come to the dis-
trict attorney with me. Your story is
most important. By the way, you are
a Norwegian, aren’t you?” Tie woman
nodded. “Do you realize that your
story may condemn a fellow country-
man to death in the electric chair?”
“My country is this country, Sir!”
said the woman. “Anyway, a man loses
his nationality, and anything that it
may mean, when he becomes a great
rogue!”
Captain Bishop smiled, grimly.
“It is too bad that only a few think
so,” he said.
_ They dropped down to the first floor
in the elevator. There they stopped.
The Captain got Detective Jordan, who
was in the detective bureau of the
Forty-second Precinct. Jordan drove
them to the district attorney’s office on
Court Street, where the woman _ re-
peated her story.
“This is vital,” said Prosecutor Dodd.
“We must take her to the jail right
away and have her identify Lee, if she
can!
THE four of them, the woman and
the three men, started for Raymond
Street jail. Captain Bishop was think-
ing, as the machine sped up Myrtle
Avenue, that it was strange that Jor-
dan should be with him for it had been
{orden who started first on the trail.
ould he be at its end and would
this be the end?
Through Brooklyn’s so-called “black
belt”, where murderers of the Lee type
never have been found; through the
territory of Navy Street, where the
Mafia has struck occasional terror, the
police machine sped! Presently, it
turned, iene into Raymond Street, and
stopped before the entrance of a for-
bidding-looking building.
They climbed the long, long steps.
A guard swung back the wicket in the
big iron gate, recognized the three men
ard opened to them! In a moment the
party was in Warden Honeck’s office.
istrict Attorney Dodd told the War-
den what they proposed doing. Mrs.
Corneilsen was left in the Warden's
second-story
one charge
among them
fat and thir
among them
ing. hair un
shirt and a]
over his shi
lined up a
lower tier.
moned.
Captain P
thumping ag
could pictur
room when
him and swe
about to sti
the hole in t
She stood
looked on t
it quite lik
young comp.
I crossed t
fidence and
large room \
seventy-five
thirty feet
evil-smelling
A short, s!
arily broad
head, whose
tesquely, s
ing the en
I move
and asked t:
cording to a
cio made mé
could easily
tion and ma
the whisky v
have tasted.
ordered a b
much time
without attr:
I was atta
I heard som
in a loud vc
That cau:
ears, so to
betray inter:
the mirror |
of a group a
back had be
swung aroun
face. I knev
man. The
shown me w
The man vy
him a note,
read. As hi
scowl spread
very much ¢
five minutes
hurried out.
him.
He crosse:
north and cx
to an apartr
he drew a ke
himself — in.
was a_ sign
s hair was
eemed good
d, Captain,
thought just
ve looked at
vay his face
us. | was
way!”
ed a button.
ie that copy
hole in the
‘'s head was
an.
od by!” she
swear to it!”
if you saw
from among
‘nt to a cor-
at off a rack
n:
e to the dis-
‘our story is
ay, you are
The woman
that your
iow country-
yair?”
ry, Sir!”
nan loses
hing that it
mes a great
grimly.
a few think
the first floor
hey stopped.
Jordan, who
ireau of the
Jordan drove
iey’s office on
woman re-
secutor Dodd.
the jail right
fy Lee, if she
» woman and
for Raymond
yp was think-
d up Myrtle
nge that Jor-
yr it had been
on the trail.
d and would
-called “black
the Lee type
through the
‘t, where the
jaal terror, the
Presently, it
nd Street, and
nee of a for-
gz, long steps.
wicket in the
the three men
oment the
ck’s office.
the War-
{ doing. Mrs.
the Warden's
June, 1930
office and the men went to fix a line-up
for the benefit of the important witness.
What a line-up that was!
There was a dip, a yegg, a badger, a
second-story man,_a sneak thie and
one charged wi criminal assault
among them. They were tall and short, ©
fat and thin—twelve in all. Lee stood
among them, unshorn, dark eyes gleam-
ing, hair unkempt, clad in a collarless
shirt and a pair of pants that fell down
over his shoe tops. The motley crew
lined up alongside the wall of the
lower tier. Mrs. Corneilsen was sum-
moned.
Captain Bishop could hear his heart.
thumping against his ribs. Already he
could picture the scene in the court-
room when Mrs. Corneilsen identified
him and swore it was he whom she saw
about to stuff that grisly bundle into
the hole in the wall!
She stood before the line-up. She
looked on those scowling faces. Only
The Master Detective
one of those men could possibly know
why she was there. The rest figured it
was just another to make a new charge.
Her keen blue eyes went up and down
the line once and then——
* She stepped forward and pointed at
ee.
“That’s the man!” she said.
“You are positive?” demanded Pros-
ecutor Dodd.
“I shall never forget him!”
WITH ribaldry upon their lips, be-
cause they believed the woman was “
identifying an assailant, but with light-
er hearts, the line was taken back to in-
dividual cells and locked up. Lee went
along with them. He still maintained
his calm. He never lost it, even to the
moment that he was being strapped into
the electric chair. Before they put the
cap over his head he glared about the
roomful of witnesses. In his eyes was
that strange resignation which might
have been the defiance of the guilty or
the bitter reproach of the innocent.
He was executed in February, 1928,
less than seven months after the mur-
der of the two women. His trial had
opened October 17th, about three
months after the killing of Mrs. Ben-
nett. He was found guilty November
2nd and sentenced November 1]4th to
die the second week in January. He got
a thirty-day reprieve during which a
special sanity commission determined
he was sane.
_ Yet—he was convicted wholly upon
circumstantial evidence! There wasn't
a bit of direct evidence in the entire
case.
His attorney, Edward J. Reilly.
fought his hardest to save him. His de-
fense was that someone else had com-
mitted the crimes and had blamed it
on Lee. Even today Mr. Reilly will tell
you that he believes the man who went
to the chair was innocent.
How I Smashed the Plot to Assassinate Wilson
it quite likely that he would choose
young companions. ;
| crossed the street with an air of con-
fidence and went in. There was. one
large room which | judged to be:about
seventy-five feet long and pa,
thirty feet wide. It was a ark and
evil-smelling place. ;
A short, stocky man with extraordin-
arily broad shoulders and a lion-like
head, whose eyebrows protruded gro-
tesquely, stood behind the bar, finger-
ing the ends of a huge black mustache.
i moved quietly up to the bar
and asked for a drink of whisky. Ac-
cording to ancient Italian custom, Ric-
cio made me pay for it in advance. I
could easily understand this precau-
tion and made no objection, but drank
the whisky which was the vilest I ever
have tasted. I drank it slowly and then
ordered a beer, determined to kill as
much time as possible in this place,
without attracting undue attention.
| was attacking my third beer when
1 heard someone call, “Tony Rosso!”
in a loud voice.
That caused me to prick up my
ears, so to speak, but I dared not
betray interest. Gazin serenely into
the mirror behind the bar, I saw one
of a group at a card table get up. His
back had been toward me, but as I]
swung around, I caught a view of his
face. I knew him at once to be my
man. The photograph Carrol had
shown me was a good likeness.
The man who had called him handed
him a note, which Tony opened and
read. As he perused the message, a
scowl spread over his face. He seemed
very much disturbed, and after about
five minutes, he excused himself and
oe out. I sauntered along behind
im.
He crossed the street and turned
north and continued on until he came
to an apartment house. At the door,
he drew a key from his pocket and let
himself, in. I noted that there
was a sign on the door, designat-
(Continued from page 19)
ing the place as 113. But I wanted to
make certain it was his home, so when
he had passed in | moved up to the
front door, tried it, and in a second
found myself in the vestibule. Over
one of the mail-boxes, I saw the name,
Anthony Rosso.
With that much accomplished, my
next step was to uncover a what
Rosso’s plot was, if one really existed.
I could, of course, have arrested him
then and there, and kept him safely
stowed away until the President had
reached Washington. But his disap-
pearance would only serve to warn his
fellow Reds, and some one else, imme-
diately, would take up his mission.
How was I to uncover whatever mad
scheme he might have already under
way?
| decided to place myself at some
distance from the house and watch it,
while pondering the situation, but I
had scarcely turned away when Rosso
came out again, and I had a good look
at him. He was of slender build, nearl
six feet tall and weighed about
pounds.
He walked rapidly, turned the corner
into Market Street, and proceeded to
Main Street. I followed a short, dis-
tance behind him and saw him disap-
pear into an office building.
TU was then getting well on toward
evening. I wanted to follow him,
but? suddenly became conscious of my
laborer’s disguise, and realized that |
would probably be questioned and
otherwise retarded. I remained in the
vestibule and waited for the elevator
to return to the age floor. | then
went over to the lad who was operat-
ing it and told him that I was expect-
ing to meet a friend. I described
Rosso and asked if he had seen him.
“Qh, that dude guy?” he asked. “Yeh,
he was here. He just went up to the
third floor.” .
“All right,” I said, thanking him.
“I'll just wait here till he comes down.”
“That guy comes in every day,” the
ba volunteered.
didn’t pause, but returned to the
other end. of the vestibule and studied
the directory. It told me that the en-
tire third floor was occupied by the
Motion Picture Photo agers School.
Within a minute, I left the building,
went across the street and took up a
position in front of a department store
where I had a good view of the office
building entrance. I set myself to wait
until Rosso reappeared.
Was Rosso attending school, or was
he conducting it? Did | have the right
Rosso? What possible connection could
a photographers’ school have with a
desperate plot to murder the president
of the United States? I began to think
less of our letter writer. After all, he
might be a crank. But then | remem-
bered the Boston bombings. 1 was
musing to myself when | was rudely
disturbed by a peremptory voice
saying:
“Move on, bud.” <A big policeman
had come along and | guess he did not
like my appearance.
I moved without protest. When the
oliceman had disappeared, I went
ack to me point of vantage. I waited
there two hours before Rosso came out.
I caught sight of him among a crowd
of hurrying employees quitting for the
day. He spotted me at the same in-
stant, and much to my amazement
made directly for me.
I stood perfectly still and he came
on until he was very close. Then,
very rudely, he peered into my eyes,
narrowed his lids, and muttered, “Oh,
excuse me, | thought I knew you.”
This is an old trick that men_ use
when they think they’re being shad-
owed. It sort of takes the wind out of
the shadower’s sails. But then, too, the
elevator boy may have told Rosso that
a friend was looking him up.
I had made up my mind to spend the
evening in Riccio’s in the hope of learn-
ing more about Rosso, and possibly
hn adbe shand 5
=
ye
1
iB
se
yar
\
4 Battery Park, Manhattan,
where the first bundle
‘) =< containing a woman's
) legs — was found.
PARC ARO et = “
te AD 1 NMOS TES
ov
aR
eee v er. Main arias a FB rosy
nj aprecipltating and cles
*
—
her aS
pat stati
William Krudner and George Hughes of the Old
Slip station in New York City to play alarm clock
to the hoboes sleeping in the shrubbery of Battery Park.
On warm summer nights never less than a dozen of these
human derelicts sought shelter there, lured by the
thought of forty winks under the cool harbor breezes
that wafted through the peaceful old park.
At about three o’clock on the Saturday morning of
July 9, 1927, Krudner and Hughes with flashlights in
hand were making their usual rounds, and had reached
the south end of the park. They stopped to talk‘for a mo-
ment as they watched the several vagrants they had
roused shamble off with grunts into the darkness.
Suddenly Krudner noticed a bundle lying in the midst
of some barberry bushes. It was a rather large bundle,
| ( ARLY every morning it was the duty of Policemen
yy kis A
SS & eee <
eer citeg
CRACK SLEUTHING SNARES A RED-HANDED MANIAC WE
oblong, and wrapped in brown wrapping paper. Kruc
went over to it and idly kicked it. The cord with w!
the bundle was tied slipped off, and a waterfront br
flapped’ open the wrapping paper. Inside the bul;
package the policeman could see what looked like a
of khaki-colored denim trousers. Hughes, who had c
up beside him, flipped the bundle open wider with
nightstick, and it was revealed that the denim trot
were wrapped around two parcels done in white clot
The patrolmen picked up the parcels curiously,
Hughes opened his. Removing the outer covering
found that this was a large, badly faded laundry
made of the cheapest kind of cotton print. But insid«
bag was still another covering. This also was a h«
made product—a towel made from the corner of a \
bedspread coarsely hemmed. Hughes quickly unw:
ed that
», When
fter he
y. She
$15 a
he had
ng, and
ice.”
as. her
yut the
Judge,”
n:
way of
rs lead-
2e slept,
und my
s Brow-
ved the
2es get-
ay and
in’ his
1 down
rt that
am sit-
a chair,
ll is the
ell com-
‘ned her
Vhat
So
pack up
‘Nol I
out and
two hun-
| he an-
ie house.’
He said,
gs!’
< up and
ng or I'd
sa vag-
ort. He
d his eyes
ht that |
om. He
‘n Febru-
way, and
untry on
January,
sa shell-
‘thing, so
in a rest
said he
‘ned him
he house
hen I re-
sut Miss
omplaint,
tor Dodd
Lee was
him. In
rdan and
thy, who
re to aid,
Jordan
‘ete were
‘ound
De-
A wedding
d already
June, 1930
had it identified by Mr. Bennett as be-
longing to his wife. He had, too, offi-
cially identified his wife's remains at
the morgue where they had been taken.
“I guess we've got the goods on him
now,” Captain Bishop said to Prosecu-
tor Dodd, as they halted in front of
Lee, who was sitting in a chair near the
window, calmly looking out.
“Yes,” said Dodd. “He'll be in the
death house in record time. I shall
speed this case up as fast as | can! It
is the most brutal murder I ever saw
and the man who did it is a fiend who
deserves no mercy.”
Lee never batted an eyelash! He
didn’t even pale! His burning eyes
continued to look out of the kitchen
window, as if he had not heard!
CAPTAIN BISHOP spoke to Doctor
Romeo W. Auerbach, an assistant
medical examiner, who was busy by the
kitchen sink, looking for evidence.
“Take the accumulation from under
the finger nails of this man,” he direct-
ed, pointing to Lee.
Lee must have known that what was
about to occur might prove to be of
vital importance to him.
he seemed not to hear! He maintained
a sullen silence until Doctor Auerbach
ordered him to stand. Then he arose,
extended his hands and permitted the
file to search out every particle of
matter under the nails of each of his
fingers.
Tensett who was under guard up-
stairs, was brought down. His nails
were treated similarly. The scrapings
from each were carefully placed in
envelopes, and the sealed envelopes
were immediately sent down to the
chief medical examiner's office to be
studied by Doctor Alexander O. Gettler,
the toxicologist in the medical examin-
er’s Office.
When the detective left with the en-
velopes, Prosecutor Dodd said to Lee:
“Stand up, Lee! As District Attor-
ney of this County I charge you with
the murders of Mrs. Selma_ Bennett
and Miss Sarah Elizabeth Brownell!
Have you anything to say to that
charge? Remember, anything you may
say can be used against you now!”
“Nothing,” said Lee.
“Take him in custody, Captain,” the
District Attorney said to Captain
3ishop.
Jensen and Neilson were each or-
dered arrested and detained as mater-
ial witnesses.
Thus ended Sunday, July 10th. As
far as the police were concerned, it had
been a day of excellent progress; but
there were many ends yet to be picked
up and points to be fastened down. In
the hands of a skilled attorney, the
case against Lee, despite its sangul-
nary aspects and environment, could
be literally shot to pieces, for he would
probably contend that someone else in
the house committed the murders and
that he, as caretaker, was only inter-
ested in cleaning out the pipes for the
benefit of the other lodgers. Also, the
corpus delicti of Miss Brownell could
not be proved because the head of the
body was still missing.
But developments were not lacking
on Monday. By 10 o'clock Cap-
Yet, again, .
The Master Detective
tain Bishop received a report from
Detective Jordan that the teeth found
in the sewer pipe had been identified
by Doctor J. Norbert Gelson, a dentist,
of 282 Park Place, as a set he made
for Miss Brownell. He said he recog-
nized it because of filings on the teeth,
which had been necessary, due to the
shrinkage of the gums after an extrac-
tion, because the cast of the teeth had
been taken before the gums had re-
ceded naturally.
But at noontime, an important dis-
covery was made by Charles M. Lowry,
a motorman, of 224 Fifteenth Street,
Brooklyn. He was in the Thirty-sixth
Street freight yard at Fifth Avenue,
near an entrance to Greenwood Ceme-
tery, when he noticed a package which
had been thrust, ation} through
a hole in the wall. He pulled it out.
As he did so, he half regretted it, for he
at first believed it contained a dead
cat or dog. But he carefully looked
into it. Inside was a knapsack con-
taining part of a woman’s head with
the face intact!
He left it where he had found it
and ran for a patrolman. He found
one two blocks away and told him of
‘the discovery.
“Tt must be connected with that mur-
der downtown,” said the officer. “Wait!
Tl telephone for instructions.”
As the result of his report, Captain
Bishop appeared at the scene in a few
minutes. He looked at the face in the
knapsack. One glance was enough!
It was the face of Miss Brownell!
The bundle was placed in a patrol
and taken to the morgue, where the
erg parts of the body were being
eld.
FEYEN more important to the case in
the establishment of the corpus de-
licti by the recovery of the head of
Miss Brownell was the evidence fur-
nished by the strange looking knapsack
in which it had been stuffed. It was the
exact style as one worn by Lee in a
photograph which was found on the
wall of his room, taken in his native
country, showing him in the outfit he
wore when he took long hikes or trav-
eled a distance to compete in skiing
contests in which he excelled. It made
the detectives morally sure of his guilt.
But it remained for Captain Bishop
to obtain evidence that completed the
chain of circumstances about Lee. One
of the elements lacking in the case was
an eye-witness who had seen Lee carry-
ing away the parts of the body. At the
same time, if such a witness were found,
one of the other suspects might be
identified and Lee exonerated. It was
of vital importance that such a witness
be discovered.
Right across the street from the door-
way to Brooklyn police headquarters
is the kiosk over the entrance to the
Bergen Street station of the Inter-
borough Subway. Captain Bishop
could flip a coin from his second-story
office window into the entrance with-
out any extra muscular effort. And it
was there, right downstairs, directly
under the foundations of Brooklyn
Police Headquarters, and Captain Bis-
hop’s own office, that the binding clue
was found. Captain Bishop, reasoning
The Bencts of
69°
ah cS
NOW REVEALED
by the Father of One of the
fo) in America
Married Happiness
A Healthy Family
A Real Home
Most Famous Families
For the first time the problems of marriage and
parenthood are frankly faced, explained in all
their practical and intimate details, and their
solutions pointed out through a revelation of the
family life of America’s foremost exponent of
health and vitality through right living. An
epoch-making book is now offered you which will
mipoly, our need for experienced guidance along
the difficult path to happiness and marriage.
THE FOREMOST
PHYSICAL CULTURIST
OF OUR DAY
Bernarr Macfadden, internationally tamous for
his principles of personal and family life, lays
before you the intimate record of his marriage
saan pareripoed as a demonstration of those
principles and gives you, from his own experience,
the secrets of health and happiness for parents
and children.
CHATS WITH THE
BERNARR MACFADDEN
FAMILY
This is the first book of its kind ever offered to
the public. The family life of Bernarr Mac-
fadden—courtship, marriage, fatherhood; the ex-
riences that came to husband and parent; the
lessons that were learned about the delicate
questions of family life through meeting them
with honesty, frankness, and courage—all of
this is offered for the benefit of others who must
meet many of the same experiences and probleins,
A Priceless Guide Book
for Parents
From this intimate family history you can learn
how to adjust the relationships of husband and
wife; how to guard the health of parents and
children; how to defeat sickness, manage diets,
evar strength and vitality. It is a handbook
of child training, for body, mind, and personality,
with methods of health-care, home education,
ei ioe control, discipline. It treats the dif-
ficult questions of sex education and preparation
for adolescence and maturity. It explains Mr.
Macfadden’s theory of sex determination and the
evidence which supports it. It_is profusely illus-
trated with photographs.
The Coupon
Brings Your Copy
Anyone who is a parent, a husband, or wife, or a
prospective marriage partner will find this book
an education in the delicate problems that
marriage brings and a guide to the secrets of
living happily ever after.’’ Don’t delay. Get
your copy of this extraordinary book at once.
MAIL THIS COUPON TODAY
eS ee se ey
LEWIS A. COPELAND CO., Dept. M.D.-6 !
119 West 57th St., New York I
|
send me _a copy of oeAts WITH THE
Please
| BERNARR MACFADDEN FAMILY.
I O I enclose $2.50. Send the book carriage prepaid.
0 Send C.O.D
I will pay the postman $2.50 plus
a few cents postage.
N@MCccccccccccncceccccccssccccecseses coe c-ceee i]
BY '
a Address. ....-.ceeccenn- seen e cane nnn e nnn n ee eee {
WCAG. Shh, wavanecanna dwoecSthtOscaaaaqiesuccnas !
_ ee we, ak oe ;
IIE, Ludwig H., wh, elec. NY@ (Kings) August 2, 1928.
|
7
sae
a a ¥
MOOS gee
PATROLMAN WIL-
LIAM KRUDENER
points to spot in
Battery Park
where he found
the grisly bundle.
ARLY morning mists over New York harbor were
being dispelled by the rising sun as Patrolman
William Krudener of the Old Slip Station made his
rounds in Battery Park, on the lower tip of Manhattan
Island, one sultry day in July.
grass and bushes of the park for vagrants. Pausing at
a bench on which a ragged old man lay outstretched,
the officer tapped his arm with the stick and admonished,
“Keep moving, Pop!”
Walking leisurely, past a clump of shrubbery, Patrolman
Krudener suddenly caught sight of something which
aroused his curiosity. He bent over and probed in: the
bushes with his stick. The object he saw was a large
brown paper package, darkly stained. Reaching down, he
picked up the bundle.
As he pulled the heavy paper back from the contents of
the package to which it stuck, he made a gruesome dis-
covery—two dismembered, gory and decaying human legs!
7 a ee le S * 5 3 oe ABT na on ee ‘
i ag SN A A pt = ee aa
“if SK. 7 Bs Where ry a ? Cae inka oat tx fy
oa > Se RT SR eyed Scout OO ARR gir,
NT Se Hie phot, Piste Sie ae Se
AMAZING DETECTIVE, November, 1942
a
Swinging his nightstick freely, Krudener scanned the |
PATROLMAN WIL-
LIAM KRUDENER
points to spot in
Battery Park
where he found
the grisly bundle.
‘ew York harbor were
ing sun as Patrolman
1 Slip Station made his
swer tip of Manhattan
Krudener scanned the -
- vagrants. Pausing at
man lay outstretched,
» stick and admonished,
of shrubbery, Patrolman
t of something which
yver and probed in the
.ct he saw was a large
ned. Reaching down, he
rack from the contents of
e made a gruesome dis-
ind decaying human legs!
CLINCHER:
Dredging a sewer,
police recovered a
full set of false
teeth which fit the
severed head of
one of the victims.
And crumpled underneath were a bloodstained pair of
men’s khaki trousers and a fragment of a woman’s flowered
bathrobe.
Quickly wrapping up the package again, Patrolman
Krudener carried it on the run to the nearest police tele-
phone at the Barge Office. ” .
Vir the officer was reporting his grisly find to de-
tectives at the Old Slip Station, another telephone was
ringing in the brownstone house of Alfred Bennett in the
Flatbush section of Brooklyn, across the East River. Mrs.
Selma Bennett, his wife, answered it.
“Is that so?” she asked the caller. “I’ll be right over.”
Turning. to her husband as she hung up the receiver, Mrs.
Bennett said, “One of the neighbors over in Prospect Place
is complaining that her cellar is being flooded by water
from our house. I do wish we hadn’t bought that place;
it has brought us nothing but a lot of hard luck!”
With this, Mrs. Bennett, a plumply attractive matron in
Do You Want A
e-X Baby?
HUNDREDS upon hundreds of
women from Coast to Coast, for-
i dren A
+, HAPPY MOTHERS from know-
* ledge and use of a simple home
_, method -- details of which I send
“4 FREE on request. Parents are ad-
mittedly far happier, healthier,
more contented, more prosperous
‘and actually live longer as a class
* “than childless couples! A baby
gives the real home spirit and ties a husband and wife in tru-
est enduring love and mutual interests, The ma jority of dis-
contented, unhappy marriages are those of childless couples
GET THIS KNOWLEDGE FREE!
During my 36 years of practice in functional conditions of
women I developed this home method, which is described in
my illustrated treatise sent FREE ON REQUEST. It dis-
cusses many subjects relating to the female organs and tells
how you too may combat your troubles as thousands of others
have who reported arrival of babies after being childless for
years, and report as well satisfactory relief from the various
female troubles amenable to correction by this home method.
DR. H. WILL ELDERS, 7th & Felix Sts., Suite 158-G ,
St. Joseph, Missouri, (Copr. 1936)
BEWITCH OTHERS
Make them love you. Wield powerful love control.
Secure clever woman's private methods (confiden-
tiaD. Get seeret charm. Revealing book, intro-
ducing you to new power, only 10c¢ (sealed).
GARDIN Co.
Dept. 6090, Box 423, M.S. &., New York City
WANTED!
Newspaper reporters, police
officials, free lance writers and
others who have access to official
records and sources of material on
outstanding solved crime cases are
asked to write the editor of this
magazine. Writers will find this
an excellent market for really good
material.
Ask for our letter of suggestions
and case outline forms. We al-
ways welcome queries on interest-
ing cases. Address:
THE EDITOR
DYNAMIC DETECTIVE
1501 Broadway, New York, N. Y.
In the luggage which he had packed,
apparently ready for flight, was Mrs.
Brownell's wedding ring.
Yet even this failed to shake Lee from
his phlegmatic calm.
He explained that he and Mrs.
Brownell were to be married. He had
merely borrowed the ring in order that
he might have another made of the same
size. A plausible story—but in the light
of Mrs. Brownell’s murder it would not
wash,
Human Blood In Nails
NID then came the most incriminat-
ing evidence of all. Detectives
noticed a black deposit under Lee's finger
nails. It was scraped and analyzed.
The residue proved to be composed
largely of human blood!
The hearing was set for October 17,
1927, in the Kings county court, Brook-
lyn, with Judge Alonzo McLaughlin on
the bench.
Three months after the fateful sum-
mer storm, Ludwig Halverson Lee went
on trial for his life, to answer to the
state for one of the most brutal and
shocking outrages in the history of
capital crime.
Assistant District Attorney Fred Kopff
headed the prosecution. Edward J.
O’Reilly was appointed by the court to
defend Lee.
The state’s initial attack was based
upon the whispered romance between the
76-year-old landlady and her sullen odd
job man. But it was not a pleasant pic-
ture that Kopff sketched for his en-
thralled listeners. Briefly, he recon-
structed the quarrel between the ill-
assorted pair—told how the brooding Lee
had hounded the old woman for money
~—how furious Lee had become when she
refused.
The desperate woman, according to
Kopff, had then threatened to call the
police. Frightened, Lee had used all his
wiles to persuade her not to treat with
officers of the law.
And he succeeded, Kopff continued.
But it was only a temporary victory.
Lee’s plans were in precarious shape.
He knew that his lowering domination of
the woman could not last. A break was
inevitable. There was only one alterna-
tive. He must kill her, take what money
he could find and go back to Norway.
Kopff established the fact that Lee had
planned to dispose of the woman’s body,
take all of her money and then escape,
leaving a note saying that he and Mrs.
Brownell had eloped.
But there was a flaw in his plans. Mrs.
Brownell had kept her money in the bank
—the little in her pocketbook was not
enough. Lee waited, devising other
schemes.
Don’t end: the happi. f
led ifs when del ved. No need
ni
gid ote oer
#
tried Women §
facts about inine hysi Sen:
in plain, sealed wrapper. Send your order
AMERICA’S MEDICINE, (Woman's Dept. 32,
64 Accept No Susstrrutes! Aways Instst on THE ApbvERTISED BRAND!
~ thie wonderfal compound
layed. No need for endurs without pain or inconven- TRIAL SIZE 25¢
ing grief, anxiety, pain and lonce. Quick (sometimes 2 to 6 days), safo, enny to take,
Berto vader tut Ae ¥ Gonveniens. R lly the most i}
e: ic ipouns dis
itrength). Glorious, satisfying relief from
+ over-
ue, » acanty periods,
There should be no doubt in the
mind of any married woman,
Noted, physician's wonderful
new formula brings relief to
thousands of women,
A i
given reaul ey do,’*
ay 0.E.,W,Va., (Double XX Strength) yourself. You'll find this
are marvelous, Nothing 1 ‘ever tried has compound sets you right! ; sy
ded unless you wish. Just
pops SEND NO MONEY orless you wish. Jost
so fiyecigate, Fffective, 4 } v er b-day livered oF you ean safely wend Peover Beving P.O. oxtra
out riskin: le 4 jay. charges, wi rst
“Secrets Marri aw Should "Know! tolla intimacs ref tina mon ye yFigx Double XX Strength $2.00, Lae og
at fi ~ Sent absolutely free without [ox Triple XXX 8 00;
obligation besides literature on many of the female troubles, If xkeptical send 25c for trial Sipe All orders shipped in
RETS TOLD
ults like th ‘Try,*there A.M. Pilla
amazing
x
© guarantee natisfaction full order or
trength for very obstinate cases
pinin wrapper same day receiv:
620 Orleans Street, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
-kept Mrs. Lohman awake with its ter-
And then came the downpour which
clogged the drain.
Into the picture came Mrs. Bennett,
anxious to protect the property on which
she held such a large mortgage.
In his stolid way Lee tried to dissuade
Mrs. Bennett from entering the cellar.
The water, he told her, was eighteen
inches deep. But what he did not tell her
was that Mrs. Brownell’s body was down by
there—nude and partly dismembered—
stretched out upon the floor.
But, continued the prosecutor, Mrs.
Bennett disregarded Lee’s warning. At
last he let her go inside, the thing he
had to do smoldering in his brain. Mrs.
Bennett had signed her own death war-
rant.
Doggedly he followed the hapless
woman. He found her, white-faced and
terrified, staring at the mutilated form of
the woman who had been her friend.
At the sound of Lee’s stealthy foot-
steps, Mrs. Bennett wheeled. A wave of | i
terror numbed her limbs. Frantically, | |
she tried to scream for help. With a
snarl, the beast was upon her.
The killer’s rush bore her to the floor.
His hands leaped out like striking snakes.
With a strangling sob the cry died in
her throat—and then unconsciousness i
claimed her. }
Late that night the dull thud of the | '
killer’s ax echoed hollowly in the death |
|
vault—the same methodical thud which
|
rible regularity. |
Assistant District Attorney Kopff had {
argued well. His reconstruction of the |
harrowing crime had proven as damning =
as the testimony of actual eye-witnesses.
The outlook was not encouraging for
Ludwig Lee. Against the evidence |
amassed by the state he had but one |
defense—that Max had killed Mrs. {
Bennett and Mrs. Brownell. And that
was not believed.
The jury arrived at a verdict in record |
time—guilty! The decision was inevit- '
able. | {
Without betraying a flicker of emotion, |
Lee rose to hear the sentence of the
court—death in the chair. |
A motion for appeal was denied, and
Lee was taken to Sing Sing. On August
2 he must pay the supreme penalty.
Immediately, Hans Fay, Norwegian
consul in New York, appealed to Gov-
ernor Alfred E. Smith for a reprieve.
Lee, he argued, was the first Norwegian
ever to be sentenced to die in this coun- ’
try. Conviction had been obtained purely
upon circumstantial evidence. He asked,
in the name of 500,000 Scandinavians he
represented, that the sentence be com-
muted to life imprisonment.
After long deliberation, Governor
Smith refused the plea. e could not,
he said, interfere with the course of , NY
justice in so brutal a murder after the :
MO>e5eD
°
=
proper authorities had adjudged the man ‘ anc
guilty. Lee must go to the chair. ON
“You may kill me,” he shouted, “but can
you'll have to fight to do it. Nobody is wor
going to put me in that chair without a you
battle. I'll fight to the finish!” simu
August 2 dawned, and Lee, knowing frien
what would come with the end of the i Fier
day, crouched silent in his cell. Suddenly ' Sen
his set jaw relaxed. toc
“T’ll come peaceably,” he said pres- Vine
ently. “I won’t fight.” if y«
Ten minutes later all that was mortal from
of Ludwig Halverson Lee was lifted our
from the death chair. smal!
(In order to protect an innocent man, the name | ai
Max in this story is fictitious—The Editor.) i -
with
} hy
——
in here?
“June
“She is <
eighteen
Jordar
again, bi
“Oh, ;
Said Ben
on the o1
' Detect
” Miss Ke
blonde,
“What d
- sleepily.
“Have
Bennett.
“No, I
day.”
. “Have
put in Jo
“Come
Kalik, “I
But she ;
room. Is)
Jordan
1. or
eS ONS PF
3
H d the bodies;
who discovere CAPTAIN
bulated.
: IVE JORDAN, }
MRS. SELMA BENNETT: "I'll be right NTIFYING CLOTHING:, DETECTHD OU ee nett, her husband:
back," she told her husband as she went
out. But he never saw her alive again.
her early forties, left her home for
the three-story brick rooming house
at 28 Prospect Place which the
Bennetts had bought recently from
Miss Sarah Elizabeth Brownell, 70-
year-old former seamstress. Miss
Brownell, although she no longer
was the owner, still had a room
there.
“Tll be right back!” Mrs. Ben-
nett assured her husband.
But she did not return—in an
hour, two hours, that afternoon or
that night.
Finally, at eight o’clock on the
morning of the following day, Sun-
day, July 10; Alfred Bennett tele-
Phoned police headquarters. “My
wife,” he reported solemnly, “has
been missing for almost 24 hours.”
Shortly, Detective William Jordan
arrived at Bennett’s home and be-
gan to question the distraught hus-
band.
“After she had been gone for
about six hours, I began to get really
worried,” Bennett told the sleuth.
“I went to the phone and called the
12
HOP, DETECTIVE ENGLIS
>
f “sr
woman who lives next door to our
rooming house. It was she who had
complained about the water in the
cellar. She said that about twenty
minutes after she had called she
saw my wife pass by on the way
into our house. She didn’t see Mrs.
Bennett come out, though, but the
water stopped leaking in and she
forgot about the incident.” “
“As far as you know, then,” asked
Jordan, “this neighbor woman over
on Prospect Place was the last per-
son to see your wife?”
“That’s right,” nodded the hus-
band. “She saw her going into the
house we bought from Miss Brown-
ell.”
“Have you called Miss Brownell?”
“Yes, but she wasn’t there. One
of the other roomers answered and
said she hadn’t seen my wife there
at all.”
“It seems to me,” declared De-
tective Jordan, “that the first thing
we ought to do is to have a look
around that house,”
Less than fifteen minutes later,
L BENNETT, victim's soni Each piece of apparel is carefully ta
the detectives and Bennett walked
up the steps of the Prospect Place
rooming house and entered through
the unlocked front door.
“That’s Miss Brownell’s room
there,” said Bennett, pointing to
the first door on the left.
Detective Bennett knocked loudly,
then waited for an answer. There
was none, and he knocked again.
Still there was no response.
'“That’s funny,” observed Ben-
nett. “Miss Brownell doesn’t go
out much—not even to church. But
maybe that’s where she is today.”
Proceeding upstairs, they knocked
at the door of Mrs. Pearl Andrews,
another roomer. Mrs. Andrews, a
dark, sad-eyed woman of middle
age, could not help them.
“No,” she said, “I haven’t seen
Mrs. Bennett. And I don’t know
where Miss Brownell is. I haven’t
seen her since the Fourth.”
Leaving Mrs. Andrews, Detective
Jordan and Mr. Bennett walked
down the hall to. the next room.
“Do you happen to know who lives
KILLER: "j'mj
women. It w
But the jury
titman stood up in the
* had come over here
‘tached, and shouted :
reverberated from the
e bawling of cattle.
zen half-starved cows
ached. In their stalls,
awed.
copped with a nervous
ous about this business
igation alone. It took
agon from behind the
er’s farm.
first of the afternoon
-orth’s,” te announced
and horses bawlin’ for
1 fed for a week.”
of straw in the horse’s
ore,
that-a-way. Guess we
. Maybe they’re sick.”
he prospect, but said
to Farnsworth’s. The
as they drove into the
barn through a blanket
hitmore’s single track.
knocked loudly on the
cr evening was settling
shed open the unlocked
iumore, walked in. He
_s no response, only an
imp house.
he door into the living-
red face turned pale in
lay the body of Farns-
recovering his nerve as
ve corpse and ran upstairs
ful of what he expected
g and had started down
- halted him in his tracks.
peered into the half-light
i the stairs, he made out
-m sprawled on the floor.
seen, Bennett and Whit-
ath and raced their horses
g, Bennett telephoned the
t the Cattaraugus County
sheriff Lester Carlson was
day outside. So when the
that night, as he and the
rtable warmth of the big
mn scowled,
he drawled as he put the
minute,” he interrupted,
make himself heard.
bout it,” he said, when it
ther end of the line was
“+
°
The jailor opened his mouth to speak, and Carlson held up
his hand for silence.
“Murder? ...
eh?”
He hung up with a bang and turned to the jailor.
“Get hold of Miller at his home, or at the district at-
torney’s office, and then call the troopers in Olean, I’m
going over to the Farnsworth farm... Town of Cold-
spring .. . you know where it is. “'wo dead there. From
what Ira Bennett said, it looks like murder and suicide.
Tell °em where it is, and to come right over.”
On the way out of the little village he picked up a deputy.
Shortly, the big car, with siren shrieking, was speeding over
the icy country highway toward the isolated Town of Cold-
spring. As Sheriff Carlson sped to the scene of the crime,
he was overtaken by Elmer Miller, ace investigator for Dis-
where? ... you don’t say, both of ’em,
QUESTIONED
Alfred Lindsay, ex-jail-bird, was
questioned concerning his friend-
ship with the murdered man
while they were jail cellmates.
trict Attorney A. Edward
Krieger. A half-hour later
they were joined by Licu-
tenant William George, of
Friendship Barracks, State
Police.
It was evident from the
first, even before the. coro-
ner arrived, that Farns-
worth and his wife had been
dead for some time. It also
was plain to see there had
been no struggle. Nothing
was out of place in the
house except, that a bureau
drawer in an upstairs bed-
room, appeared to have been
ransacked.
Gingerly Carlson reached
down and moved the man’s
corpse. . He pointed to a re-
volver. lying nearby. He
was the first to speak.
“Better leave it for the
coroner, boys, and don’t
touch anything.”
‘e THE CELLAR, it was a
gruesome sight indeed,
that greeted them. As the
little circles of light from
their flashlights danced up
and down on the white-
washed walls, they finally
came to rest on the hor-
ribly mutilated body of the
woman, practically decapi-
tated. The features were
unrecognizable.
She lay where she had
fallen and nearby, was a
small pan with potatoes and
vegetables scattered as she
had dropped them, over the
bloody floor.
“Looks like murder and
suicide, all right,” Carlson
finally said, as the men re-
turned to the kitchen to map
out an immediate plan of
action.
“They must have had a
" fight, he followed her to the
cellar and did for her, then
got jittery, went upstairs,
pawed around in the bureau
for the gun, then came down
and shot himself,” Carlson
offered, as his first reaction
to the bloody tragedy.
“Personally, I never did
think much of the match. Farnsworth was bad. He had a
bad record with women
in Connecticut on a White Slave charge.
.. you know he did a stretch up
But she thought
she could reform him, and this is what she got for her
trouble,” Miller said.
“Well, it looks like that’s about what thcre is to it.”
But when the coroner arrived and found Farnsworth had
been shot in the back, the case took on a new light.
Obviously, the man did not shoot himself, and if the
woman had shot him, she could not (Continued on page 76)
31
» following
torney and
sha County
| by Judge
ag woman.
zed the full
sed permis-
n’'s plea of
inted. Her
first, both
» with the
tant mother
nity to re-
on October
«da matron.
lay—there’s
replied the
jail attache
per, saying:
gain, Ruth.”
iper. Black
act that her
ce. Bursting
n Kenneth’s
who had
lwaukee Cir-
ran custody
e your baby
prisoner.
‘ried the di-
iave him see
Sadly, she
forward to
gerness once,
ieymoon, and
’s hair coat,
yellow striped
vhen her trial
to “not less
> than fifteen
-ate Women’s
-eformatory in
be born in a
1 if Leo were
it all for hith.”
thetic cases of
at ever made
ame the favor-
| women crim-
would be born
sted like those
3; they at once
s, leggings and
othing for the
From page 31
s. Farnsworth’s
police through-
first step in the
of the Farns-
s on.
ttle in the way
half-way to the
ers found three
ith a tricky at-
) the rear of the
{ been hurriedly
activities of the
‘left the farm,
uestioned. Few
people had seen them since they moved to
the place in the Fall. Ira Bennett and his
man, Whitmore, whose farm was the near-
est, only saw them occasionally when they
were working in nearby fields, or went
there to borrow some farm implement ina
neighborly way.
And Bennett, he said, knew nothing of
them. The last time anyone was known to
have been there prior to the day the crime
was discovered, was when Whitmore. had
gone to borrow the farm wagon nearly a
week before. But when Whitmore was
questioned by both Carlson and Miller, he
said he had not noticed anything wrong.
He had seen both the victims alive, and as
far as he could determine, they were in
good spirits.
After the bodies were removed, Investi-
gator Miller and state troopers scoured the
house from top to bottom for fingerprints,
but all they found were bloody smears on
the axe handle, which convinced them the
killer wore gloves. Neither did the gun
help them in this respect.
When the news of the double murder
spread through the farming community, in
Salamanca, and in Little Valley, where Mrs.
Farnsworth had been known so many years
as Bernice Kenyon, the countryside buzzed
with gossip.
Rumors sprang up where there had been
only a mild interest the day before, an in-
terest centered in the now aging sensation
of eight months earlier, when the judge’s
stenographer had married a convict.
Heads nodded knowingly and tongues
wagged as they repeated:
“Didn't we tell you no good would come
of that match?”
* *
Cosueen AND MILLER had returned to the
county jail office after a day of fruit-
less running down leads that took them only
up blind alleys. Simmering the thing down
to cold facts, they had to admit to them-
selves, they were up against a wall with no
clue yet uncovered to indicate which way
the trail might lead.
“We've got to get the dope on the back-
ground of this Farnsworth and the best
and quickest place I know of is Clinton
Prison, where he was transferred from Au-
burn,” Carlson grunted.
He and Miller had just stomped into the
office, where they shook the snow from their
coats, removed hats and gloves and galoshes
and stood over a whistling radiator, to
warm their numbed fingers and aching feet.
Miller thought a minute, then looked up,
an expression of inquiry on his chapped
face.
“You know, Les, I’m just wondering if
Farnsworth maybe had made some enemy
in prison; or perhaps there was a former
pal he had double-crossed sometime, and
who came back to get even.”
Both men were silent a moment. Then:
“It’s worth looking into,” Carlson ad-
mitted. And on second thought:
“The more I think of it, the more I
think maybe we are beginning to get some-
where,” he said.
The sheriff picked up a telephone at his
elbow and put in a call for Clinton Prison.
“[’m going to find out who Farnsworth
was pally with while he sas in the can, and
if any of his old friends have been turned
loose lately,” he told Miller.
While they waited for the call they dis-
cussed other possibilities.
“Of course,” Miller said, “it’s possible
some of Farnsworth’s old friends may have
learned where he was and attempted to get
him back and help pull a job somewhere
and then, finding opposition from the
Missus, they all got in a row which ended
in killing both of them.”
MRS
“That’s right,” Carlson agreed, “or some
pal may have visited them, got sweet on
Mrs. Farnsworth and, when Farnsworth
learned about it, they fought and it ended
the way it did.” :
But they soon discarded these theories
when they recalled there had been no fight ;
nothing to indicate there had been a strug-
gle of any kind, and they both agreed, men
don’t fight to the death in a house without
upsetting things.
They were interrupted in the middle of
this discourse by the jingling of the tele-
phone bell.
Carlson answered and asked questions
hurriedly. He jotted down some notes and
when he had finished and hung up, turned
to Miller again.
“N° oNE’S BEEN released lately that Farns-
worth would have had any dealings
with in prison. He had several pals while
he was there, but they’re still doing time.”
Miller thought it over, then rose and put
on his hat and coat.
“I’m going over to the creamery and talk
to that manager again. Whoever it was did
this job, they were acquainted with Farns-
worth’s habits. They knew when to catch
him away from home, I’m certain. And it
just occurred to me, they also knew just
how to get that milk rack off in a hurry.
Possibly, they had seen Farnsworth do it.”
As he reached the door he turned back.
“Don’t you remember, Les, that little
platform had two tricky bolts with hidden
thumb-nuts? It would have been difficult
for one not knowing the trick to get it off
in a hurry, and whoever drove away in that
car, stopped down the road just long
enough to take it off and toss it in the
snow. And you can be sure with what they
left behind, it wasn’t very damn long.”
Late in the afternoon Miller returned.
He found Carlson studying the records of
the Farnsworth case of five years earlier,
when another sheriff was in office.
“What luck?” Carlson inquired, looking
up.
“Not much. One of the employes at the
creamery, after a lot of prodding, did re-
member that several weeks ago, when
Farnsworth brought the milk, there was a
man in the car with him.”
Carlson looked only mildly interested.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I'd lose any sleep
worrying about that. Farnsworth undoubt-
edly knew a lot of people around the county,
and it probably was someone he was giving
a lift. That all?”
“T tried to get the fellow to give me a
description, but it was so long ago, he had
forgotten even what the passenger looked
like. The man didn’t get out of the car,
anyway,” Miller reported.
“Well, let’s go get something to eat,” the
sheriff suggested. “Maybe the troopers
will have something tonight, or in the
morning. There’s nothing more we can do
about it tonight.”
Byerore CAME AND STILL the case was
as much of a mystery as it had been
now for two days. The state police had
followed up several reports that the Farns-
worth car had been seen, but they could
not put their hands on the car; nor could
they find anyone who would be positive of
an identification.
A suspect was arrested in Buffalo when
he got out of a car answering the descrip-
tion of the missing automobile, all except
the license plates, but the fellow soon con-
vinced police he knew nothing of the mur-
ders. i
Miller, however, was not entirely satis-
fied that the creamery employe could not
give a better description of Farnsworth’s
passenger that morning, and with their case
ise
SEER
OB ine sti
CIGARS
VARIED selection of 25
cigars packed in ametal
humidor-container. No
cigar shorter than 5 inches
—and mostly longer. Full-
bodied natural aroma of rich
Havana and Connecticut
blended tobaccos.
- —— ji If in your own opinion you do not
ppeseneOeeuantnany eerten See, of pleasure
LORD coaet - pork Pic wikia relended
C4 EDWIN
in full and the smokes and gifts
will be on us.
ATLL Taw SS is MORE
tas . CONVENIENT TO SEND
we will includ 8 an da
; tion, for the extra 25c,one clear each
of the five famous ALMENDARES
Brands, the last word
in rich, luxurious cigar
goodness.
6c Straight
Guaranteed perfect vigars made
by expert clgarmakers from the
E finest tobaccos available.
ITEMS LISTED BELOW
With all "Get AcquainTep" cigar
orders for 75¢ or $1.00 we will
Z include Free or Cuarce the
following 3 handsome, valuable
E gift items if ordered within 30days.
CHROMED
METAL POCKET
CIGAR CASE
Keeps cigars in perfect
unbroken condition
This case alone ts worth
its weight in gold to
cigar smokers It will
save you thousands of cigars over &
ourse of years — areal necessity
ry
2 | FAMOUS POCKET
CIGAR LIGHTER
Works every time
Packed in gift box.
“FACTS EVERY SMOKER
$HOULD KNOW”
128 page Illustrated =I
book. Extremely inter-
esting. Sells for $2.50 In
ONLY ONE bookshops when bound
SPECIALOFFER|
WITH We reserve the right to refund
your money if our supply of
gifts is used up before your
order reaches us, So send in
your order today.
to any part of
DELIVERED FREE i. urs tice,
postage. Send oheck or money order for 766 ($1,00
if you want the 6 MLMEND
cluded) or pay the postman on arrival (C.0.D.
orders 16c extra). We have been making fine cigars
for over 60 years References: Oun-Bradstreet,
, or any bank In the us.
MONEY-BACK GUARANTEE PROTECTS YOU
3 FREE GIFTS
TO ANY ONE
CUSTOMER!
102-J East 16th St., New York
FRE ~RAZOR
BLADES
ost card brings them to you. Finest
quality, surgical steel. Send for them now!
Westminster Steel Co., 191-F 4th Ave., New York, N.Y,
717
tenant Kirsch asked:
“Where's the place where you shot
him?”
“TY don’t know! I don’t know! Oh, go
away!” cried the girl, burying her face in
a pillow. “I never want to see him again.
If he had let me be, he’d be alive. I’d be
happy.” : .
But after repeated urging Ruth got in
a squad car to attempt to guide police to
the scene of the shooting. Arriving at the
West city limits, she shook her head in
bafflement, saying:
“T’'d like to help, but I haven’t the fog-
giest notion where it is.”
Le AND DOWN tree-lined roads, the police
car cruised. Three hours passed with-
out Ruth’s being able to point out a famil-
iar landmark. The investigators had a
murder confession but no corpus delicti.
“This is the third time we’ve been here
in Forest Park,” said a policeman, men-
tioning the exclusive subdivision through
which they were passing.
“Forest Park?” said Ruth, a note of
interest in her voice. “Herb mentioned
Forest Park. Take it easy now.”
As the squad passed Forty-sixth Avenue
and Taft Road, she said in a low voice:
“Slow down.”
She scanned the woods on both sides for
a moment.
“Turn in here,” she ordered. “Now
stop!”
From the running board of the car she
excitedly pointed out a dark object in the
brush. Breaking into hysterical sobs, she
cried:
“There he is.”
Detectives smashed through the weeds
and bushes.
“Aw, only a log,” cried one, keen dis-
appointment in his tones.
“He’s ’round here some place,” insisted
the young woman. “Search; you'll find
him!”
IEUTENANT FRANK SCHNEEBERGER, chief
of detectives, finally stumbled over the
corpse, which lay just a short distance
from a lonely road well known to young
sweethearts as “Lovers’ Lane.” Death had
come almost instantly to Winters. His
shirt was marked by a large powder burn,
which indicated that Ruth had been very
close to him when she pulled the trigger.
Picked up in Milwaukee as he sought
Ruth at her father’s home, Leo Lindstrom
was taken to Kenosha Police Headquar-
ters. He bowed his head in grief when
he heard that his sweetheart was held for
murder.
“And she wrote those letters herself!”
he cried. “I believed her when she said
they were from her step-father. I didn’t
know she was married—didn’t know she
had a child. Gosh, we went riding in the
murdered man’s car the night he was slain.
And she was so sweet and nice that eve-
ning, too.”
Leo and Ruth confronted each other the
day after she confessed. She began to
sob. He approached to comfort her. As
he placed his hand on her trembling shoul-
der, she said:
i made a mess of it, Leo, haven't
“Now, everything is going to be all
right,” he assured her.
Ruth tottered and almost fell. She
moaned :
“T’m sick.”
Supported by Policewoman McNeil,
she was helped to the hospital ward of
the County Jail. Tossing in her prison
bed, Ruth steadily became worse. Satur-
day night, Doctor William Lippman was
summoned. He ordered her removed to
the Kenosha Hospital where she could be
given better care. He declared:
“She’s pregnant and emotionally upset.
She must be watched carefully; she may
harm herself.”
Rested somewhat, she was questioned
on Sunday afternoon by District Attorney
John P. McEvoy. Ghastly pale, she gave
a new version of the killing.
“T ONLY WANTED to scare him,” she said,
“and the gun went off by accident. I
thought I could hold him up and make
him give me the car, signing a statement
transferring the title, or else I would tell
on him. I wanted that auto for my honey-
moon. But the revolver exploded before
I knew it. I swear I didn’t mean to shoot
him.”
Meanwhile, friends had rallied to the
defense of the slain man’s memory, de-
claring that Mrs. Moran had lied when
she told of carrying on a love affair with
him. Mrs. Winters stated:
“My husband was a good and dependable
man of exemplary habits. I cannot be-
lieve the story she tells.”
Police, too, doubted her account-of an
illicit romance with the automobile dealer,
declaring that rumors of his being a Don
Juan grew out of the fact that he was
often seen with women, due to his busi-
ness.
Ruth was arraigned before Circuit Judge
E. B. Belden on October 13th. She came
into the courtroom with lagging steps and
her obvious weakness caused the jurist to
allow her to sit as the clerk read the mur-
der charge.
i you understand that?” asked the
ju
“Ves,” she sobbed.
ane you want a jury trial, or a lawyer?”
if 6.”
“Guilty or not guilty?”
“I’m guilty, but I didn’t mean to do it,”
cried the girl. “I want to get it over
with.”
Judge Belden then ordered that a hear-
TATTOOED LUST KILLER
have brought about her own death in such
a manner.
As the night wore on, other little details,
at first unnoticed, were brought to light by
the investigators. There were no powder
marks on Farnsworth’s clothing. Nothing
in the house had been disturbed, except the
two dresser drawers upstairs.
They searched the house, investigated
letters and papers, but found nothing of
consequence to aid them.
But what, Sheriff Carlson and Investi-
gator Miller, asked themselves, would have
been the motive for such a crime? It
hardly seemed probable that robbery was
behind it, for the Farnsworths were not
76
known to keep money in the house, and it
was not the time of the month they would
have had cash from their nile check from
the creamery.
HEN, AS DAYLIGHT came, the clue that
sealed the case as a double murder, was
discovered.
Mrs. Farnsworth’s car was missing!
The slender chance that the murderer
would continue to use the car after making
good his escape, was all Sheriff Carlson had
to work on for the moment, but he grabbed
at the straw like a drowning man and hur-
ried to a telephone.
In an hour, the registration number,
ing on the facts be held on the following
Friday.
Edward J. Ruetz, veteran attorney and
former president of the Kenosha County
Bar Association, was appointed by Judge
Belden to represent the young woman.
Claiming that she had not realized the full
import of her action, Ruetz asked permis- .
sion to withdraw Mrs. Moran’s plea of
guilty, a request which was granted. Her
trial was set for December first, both
judge and prosecutor agreeing with the
defense attorney that the expectant mother
should be granted an opportunity to re-
cuperate.
Ruth was singing in her cell on October
21, 1936.
“Why so happy, Ruth?” asked a matron.
“Today’s my baby’s birthday—there’s
four candles on the cake,” replied the
killer.
With a pitying glance, the jail attache
handed the prisoner a newspaper, saying :
“You’re on the front page again, Ruth.”
RS. MORAN OPENED the paper. Black
headlines announced the fact that her
husband had obtained a divorce. Bursting
into tears, the mother cried:
“And he had to do it on Kenneth’s
birthday !”
Judge August E. Braun, who had
granted the divorce in the Milwaukee Cir-
cuit Court, had awarded Moran custody
of the child.
“Do you ever want to see your baby
again, Ruth?” asked a fellow prisoner.
“No! No!. Not here,” cried the di-
vorcee. “I never want to have him see
his mother in jail.”
She reflected a moment. Sadly, she
spoke:
“And I had been looking forward to
the divorce with so much eagerness once,
so I could go on my honeymoon, and
”
now....
WATHED IN A dirty camel’s hair coat,
her throat bound with a yellow striped
muffler, Ruth pleaded guilty when her trial
opened. She was sentenced to “not less
than fourteen and not more than fifteen
years in the Wisconsin State Women’s
Prison.”
As she was taken to the reformatory in
which her second child will be born in a
few months, Ruth wept.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad if Leo were
here to say good-bye; I did it all for him.”
Ruth, one of the most pathetic cases of
psychopathic personality that ever made
criminal history, at once became the favor-
ite of the prison. Hardened women crim-
inals, learning that a baby would be born
behind the gray walls, reacted like those
of their sex outside the bars; they at once
began knitting tiny sweaters, leggings and
other articles of woolen clothing for the
child of misfortune.
From page 31
found on the license in Mrs. Farnsworth’s
purse, had been broadcast to police through-
out the East.
The law had taken the first step in the
search for the murderer of the Farns-
worths. The man-hunt was on.
The forenoon brought little in the way
of clues. Down the road, half-way to the
main highway, state troopers found three
milk-cans and the rack, with a tricky at-
tachment, for fastening it to the rear of the
car. ‘lt, with the cans, had been hurriedly
tossed into a snowdrift.
Little was known of the activities of the
Farnsworths. They rarely left the farm,
neighbors related when questioned. Few
people had seen the
the place in the Fa
man, Whitmore, w!
est, only saw them
were working in :
there to borrow sor
neighborly way.
And Bennett, he
them. The last tim
have been there pri
was discovered, wa
gone to borrow the
week before. But
questioned by both
said he had not n
He had seen both t
far as he could c&
good spirits.
After the bodies
gator Miller and stz
house from top to !
but all they found
the axe handle, wh:
killer wore gloves.
help them in this r¢
When the news
spread through the
Salamanca, and in L
Farnsworth had bee
as Bernice Kenyon,
with gossip.
Rumors sprang w
only a mild interest
terest centered in t!
of cight months ea:
stenographer had m
Heads nodded k
wagged as they rep
“Didn't we tell yc
of that match?”
*
C Anson AND MI)
county jail offic
less running down le:
up blind alleys. Sim
to cold facts, they
selves, they were up
clue yet uncovered
the trail might lead.
“We've got to get
ground of this Far
and quickest place
Prison, where he wa
burn,” Carlson grun:
He and Miller ha:
office, where they shc
coats, removed hats a
and stood over a
warm their, numbed |
Miller thought a n
an expression of in
face.
“You know, Les,
Farnsworth maybe |
in prison; or perha
pal he had double-c
who came back to g«
Both men were sil
“It’s worth lookir
mitted. And on seco
“The more I thi
think maybe we are |
where,” he said.
The sheriff picked
elbow and put in a c:
“I’m going to find
-was pally with while
if any of his old fric
loose lately,” he told
While they waited
cussed other possibil
“Of course,” Mill
some of Farnsworth’:
learned where he wa:
him back and help ;
and then, finding
Missus, they all got
in killing both of the
“
————
seemingly at a standstill, he took Carlson
with him and they returned to question the
man again. .
At first the fellow insisted he had paid
no particular attention to the passenger 1n
Farnsworth’s car on that particular morn-
ing.
Torhat’s nothin’ for these farmers to
bring someone along with them,” he as-
sured his inquisitors, “and it ain't my job,
anyway, to get a picture of everybody who
rides up here in a car.”
Carlson admitted it wasn’t.
“But can’t you remember something
about him?” the sheriff repeated for the
hundredth time. “Didn’t he do something
that attracted your attention?”
The fellow scratched his head.
“Can't say he did, except ask Farns-
worth for a cigarette.”
“Then what?” Miller interrupted.
“Why, Harold gave it to him, what'd
you think?”
“All right, answer questions without get-
ting fresh,’ Carlson snapped.
“Was that all?”
“Yep, that’s all I seen.” ;
The officers looked at each other in dis-
may. Their last hope appeared to be fad-
ing into thin air. No one else had even
seen the stranger.
In a last desperate effort, Miller turned
to the man again and asked:
“What did the fellow do with the cig-
arette after Farnsworth handed it to him?”
The creamery hand seemed on the, verge
of replying with another wisecrack, when
a flash of remembrance overspread his face.
“Sir ug SAID, “I remember now. When
he took the smokes Farnsworth
handed him, he had some trouble getting
one out of the package with his gloves on,
and when he took the mittens off I seen
a tattoo mark on the fingers of his left
hand that says, ‘True Love.’ Never thought
of it before now.”
The sheriff and Miller did not attempt
to conceal their elation at this sudden turn
in events and, leaving the dazed creamery
employe standing there gaping at them,
they hurried back to the jail.
They were silent now as they entered
the office. Shortly, Carlson spoke to a
deputy.
“Get Clinton Prison again and have them
give you a description of every prisoner
who has been released since Farnsworth
got out last August,” he directed.
Two hours later the investigators began
going through the mass of notes the deputy
had written down.
“Whew, what a hell of a job that was,”
the deputy complained, working the
cramped fingers of his right hand back
and forth.
Carlson looked at him and laughed, the
first laugh that had come from him in two
days.
“Lets hope all that labor amounts to
something,” he said.
‘At the very beginning of the list, as
Carlson scanned it, he motioned to Miller.
There was a broad smile on his face. He
pointed to one of the descriptions there
in front of them. It said:
“Alfred Lindsay, alias Arthur Flynn,
born in Lowell, Massachusetts. Lives with
sister in New Rochelle, New York. ‘The
description followed, and toward the end
was:
“Words ‘True Love’ tattooed on fingers
of left hand.”
ge, THE MAN we want to talk to,”
Miller almost shouted, before the sheriff
could speak.
Within an hour the alarm had gone out
on police teletype systems for the detention
of Lindsay.
On top of this, the following day, the
Farnsworth car was found on a New Yor
City street. New York police, advised of
the wanted man’s old haunts, watched for
him. A guard was placed at the home of
his sister, in New Rochelle. But Lindsay
was illusive for another day.
Then, on March 11, 1935, four days after
the murder was discovered, Lindsay was
arrested in New York City. Detectives,
working under a police inspector, who went
to the sister’s house in search of another
brother wanted for questioning in connec-
tion with a theater box-oflice holdup,
learned they had missed Alfred by a matter
of minutes. He had just left when they
arrived. They knew the trail was hot.
And the following morning, the man they
wanted was picked up as he was leaving a
restaurant on Seventh Avenue.
The prisoner stoutly denied his identity
at first. Then, when confronted with his
prison record and the tell-tale tattoo marks
on his left hand, he claimed to know noth-
ing of the double murder. But on March
13th, he was returned to Cattaraugus
County for questioning.
Finally, taken back to the lonely house
of death and put through a stiff grilling,
he broke and confessed the murders, but
insisted it was done in self-defense.
Hs story WAS that he and Farnsworth
had quarreled in the cellar over money.
He said he had learned of Farnsworth’s
whereabouts and had gone to him asking
help, as they had been friends in prison
and were discharged the same day. Farns-
worth had given him work. But working
was not to his liking and they soon dis-
agreed. The climax came, Lindsay said,
when Farnsworth discharged him. The
quarrel followed over the amount of wages
he had coming.
Then, he said, Mrs. Farnsworth heard
the loud talking in the cellar and. came
down the stairs, just as Farnsworth picked
up the axe and shouted : “Tl kill you.”
$10,000 REWARD FOR A GHOST
to Peccoraro. The young Italian kept on
with his mediumistic work, though he
no longer tried to seek the prize money.
Dunninger became a sitter at several of
Nino’s seances and checked on all the de-
tails that he had covered at the first, but
under conditions where Nino had more
leeway.
“Nino’s ‘voices’ were a device to kill
time,” summarizes Dunninger. “He used
them while he was extricating himself
from the ropes. I learned the full secret
of his rope work. His mittens, appar-
cently a handicap, were actually his chief
aid, together with the stiff cuffs beneath
his coat sleeves. Since the mittens were
78
sewn to the coat sleeves, he could gen-
erally slide his hands up through the cuffs
and down again.
“The reason he used Palladino as his
control was because broken English was
excusable when it reputedly came from an
Italian spirit.
“Nino created so much effect with the
Palladino voice that he began to use
others, under persuasion. That was where
he slipped.
“One night, the voice of ‘Houdini’ spoke
through Nino, saying:
“DMaunninge! Dis is Houdeen! How
are you, Dunninge?’
“When it came to written messages,
He said they fought for the axe and
during the struggle, Mrs. Farnsworth was
hit on the head and killed.
Farnsworth then ran upstairs, Lindsay
said, and obtained a revolver, and again
they fought for the weapon; and again, he,
Lindsay, came off victorious when the gun
was accidentally discharged and Farns-
worth fell dead.
But at the trial, which followed quickly
after a special grand jury had indicted him
for first degree murder, the prosecution
broke down the fantastic story, when it
was conclusively shown there had been no
struggle anywhere in the house, and that
there were no powder marks on Farns-
worth’s clothing, as there would have been,
had the fatal shot been fired at close range
as Lindsay said it was.
| Benard ALSO FAILED to explain at his
trial, how it came about that Mrs.
Farnsworth’s head was practically severed
from her body with innumerable strokes of
the axe, if she had been killed with a single
blow, as he related from the witness stand,
a fact District Attorney Krieger made
much of in his summation.
At the conclusion of the trial, that lasted
five days, it was well established that Lind-
say had returned to the Farnsworth farm
at a time he believed Farnsworth would be
at the creamery with the milk; that he was
infatuated with Mrs. Farnsworth, and that
when she repulsed his advances in the cellar
after he had entered through the kitchen
that blustery March morning, he had _ be-
come enraged and murdered her.
It also was believed that Mrs. Farns-
worth was fearful Lindsay might influence
her husband to return with him to the old
life of crime, and that She had taken more
than a small part in having her husband
discharge him, for which he also held a
grudge against her.
Then, when Farnsworth had returned
from the creamery before Lindsay had ex-
pected him, he had fled upstairs, secured
the gun from the drawer where he knew
it was kept, and shot Farnsworth when he
came in the house.
The jury found Lindsay guilty as
charged, and he was sentenced to be exe-
cuted at Sing Sing Prison. One month
after the murder, Sheriff Carlson started
for the death house with his prisoner.
For MONTHS LATER, on August 29th,
1935, after an appeal and a clemency
hearing before Governor Lehman had
failed to alter the jury’s verdict, Alfred
Lindsay was electrocuted in Sing Sing for
the murder of Harold and Bernice Farns-
worth.
The final chapter of Bernice Kenyon’s
story that never was finished as she had
dreamed, but which turned to tragedy in
real life, had been written and marked
“Finis.”
From page 23
which we also coaxed from Nino, he again
went wrong. When the ‘spirit’ of Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle wrote a message, the
signature ‘Cohen Doyle’ appeared after
it. .
It will be seen that all these seances
served as valuable sequels to the first one.
Dunninger began by showing that Nino’s
mediumship could not stand full test _con-
ditions. Through his own seance, Dun-
ninger proved that Nino’s claimed—but
undelivered—marvels, could be produced
through natural means. By continuing his
investigation, gaining more and more in-
sight into Nino’s methods, Dunninger was
working for the important finish.
That can
All the whi
racket had
Nino Pecc:
great test s
labelled as <
still too str
circles to t
doing, they
Sir Arthur
had declare
At the si
istic organ
They fear:
too strong
bomb-shell
exactly wh
was more :
explosion.
While s;
one bring?
Nino hims
knew that
who were
to Dunnir
contact wi
deliver ac
Nino re
ances. Ho
Arthur C
posed for
tail of hi
showed hi
e sent asf
lift) that
levitate it
HOTOGR
brand |
cent subst.
formation
ecloplasm
gen foam
from their
Nino ck
od of pr:
He did it
the cloth
front of 1
the camer
of light.
Nino’s ¢
topped th
quired af
holds the
coraro pr
fraudulen
ments of |
uine, it 1
not be tak
Peccori
diums wh
by Dunn:
Dunninge
of a She:
of deduc:
pect to fi
Year in
undertak«
tery, so
psychic n
miles to |
spookless
diums.
Ino mos
tions, Du
more sw!
That is |
are less c
young It:
vestigate:
alities; t
phies tha:
hunts.
(ye OF
expo
that had
medium,
1s Sfril -
i alive. he
I know
job.”
Helen's.
ig started
ob. Helen
half th
squen!,”
Bradk Ag
n them
vod eiwht
off the
neo Was an
eas tty
is Baker,
group
when the
inventive-
the missing
lso. victims
im did not
cnew Baker
id that his
vere follow-
uscover his
consult its
was such a
where with
lelen’s tes-
crv Was a
to arrest
pplied for
uch a step,
raud. We
suspicion
vt. She
i State
~perately
chance
it,” she
ive and
at noth-
ontinued,
ind tele-
ls friends
believed
On Feb-
hat a pal
r to some
On the
vee of our
ed at the
ter to be
graphed
hort the
murder.
vhen the
have the
hlerman
HSuranes
irrested
aspire v
nda
2th. the
and
Was an
eo Vveurs
hoto-~
that’s
With the identity of Baker finally. es-
tablished. South Dakota authorities
orought Billy Nesbeth to trial. He pleaded
not guilty. South Dakota has no capital
punishment and on May 18th, 1937, Billy
was sentenced to life imprisonment.
After Nesbeth’s trial, we concentrated
all our efforts on finding Bradley. The
FBI joined us on the ground that Brad-
ley was a fugitive from justice. His pic-
ture and fingerprint record had been sent
to officers all over the United States.
N July of 1988, a Yakima, Washington,
citizen was puzzled by the vaguely fa-
miliar face of a man he saw working in a
hayfield. He made inquiries and was told
that the man was “George Watson” who
had been working there for thirteen
months. The Yakima citizen was con-
vinced that he had seen a picture of Wat-
son in a detective magazine. He informed
Deputy Sheriff Walter Purdin, who ar-
rested Watson. A fingerprint test readily
revealed that the man was Lee Bradley.
Bradley was sentenced to life imprison-
ment, on January 18th, by Circuit Judge
dere T. Medin, at Sioux Falls, South Da-
<ota.
On January 5th, 1937, Reeves had
pleaded guilty to armed robbery and was
sentenced to forty years imprisonment in
the Fort Madison Penitentiary, where he
is now serving his sentence.
Helen Sieler is still alive. Last sum-
mer she toured the country with a carni-
yal show where she was known as the
Dynamite Girl. Each night she exhibited
herself to hundreds of curious people and
gave them an earnest picture on Crime
Does Not Pay. During her travels she
met a young man who was convinced that
she was sincere in her desire to lead a
better life. He married her and took her
out of the State.
Helen was never a vicious character. She
was a misguided, weak soul who thought
she could repudiate accepted moral stand-
ards and get away with it. She has paid
in physical suffering and mental agony
for every misdeed she ever committed. It’s
my hope she has learned that crime and
vice bring nothing but unhappiness. For
that reason, I cannot reveal her present
name nor her whereabouts. I want her to
leave the past behind her if she can!
(Note: Jhe name Martha Duffy, as used in
this story, is fictitious.—Ep.)
Clue of the Tattooed Pig
(Continued from page 41)
prisoner. The admission had come with
startling suddenness.
“What is your first name?”
“Alfred.”
“Are you the man who is named in a
teletype message we have from up-state
as being wanted for double murder?” the
Inspector inquired casually,
“Yes,” replied Lindsay.
over.”
By the time I returned from the South,
Sheriff Carlson, District Attorney Kreiger,
Special Investigator Miller and Lieuten-
ant George had returned from New York
City with Lindsay.
The suspect confessed to a prison record.
He had become well acquainted with
Farnsworth in Great Meadows Prison.
They had been discharged on the same day,
and had parted with the understanding
that Lindsay would visit the Farnsworths
after they had established themselves
on their farm. Lindsay had returned
to relatives in New York City, but
quarreled with them and left after a few
weeks, thereby violating his parole. Tle
arrived at the Farnsworth farm after dark
one Saturday night about the middle of
December. }'arnsworth was delighted to
see him, but Mrs. Farnsworth evidently
did not share this enthusiasm. He agreed
to work for ten dollars a month, and board
and room, until the following April when
he and the farmer planned to go into the
poultry business together.
Lindsay sensed from the first that Mrs.
Farnsworth did not want him around, He
noticed that she did not like her husband
to go away in the car with him. She
was evidently afraid that they might
get into some kind of trouble. But there
was never any outright quarrel until Mon-
day, March 4th, when she came out of
the house and heard Lindsay call some-
thing to her husband in the barn and
thought he was talking about her,
His story about this incident was simi-
lar to the account we had heard from Nora
Moynihan. Mrs. Farnsworth had said that
he was insolent and had better leave, and
he agreed with her. She and her husband
drove to Steamburg. Lindsay finished the
work in the barn, put his belongings into
the shopping bag and left the Farnsworth
house, stopping to talk with Miss Moyni-
“T’m glad it’s
AUGUST, 1939
han, where he ate his lunch. Later he
walked to Steamburg where he met the
Farnsworths at the garage and they asked
him to return to their place. He did not,
say whether he would or not, but later
that afternoon he returned to Miss
Moynihan’s house, did her chores and had
supper there.
‘She told me I might stay in her
brother’s vacant house a short distance
away,” said Lindsay. “She gave me some
blankets and an alarm clock, a lantern and
a jug of water and told me I might take
some kindling wood. She let’ me take a
cart to wheel the stuff over in and, as il
was raining slightly, she let me take an old
raincoat to throw over the things on the
cart. I went over and slept in the vacant
house that night. Nora had told me how
to throw on the switch so I might have
electricity, I did so. I read a couple of
books I found in the house, going to bed
about ten o’clock. I slept until about
7:30 the next morning, Tuesday. I got
up and went to the Farnsworth farm by
way of the road.
“ HEN T got there, they were getting
breakfast. ‘Phey had) the table set
for two. Mrs. Farnsworth set another
place for me. We all ate breakfast to-
gether and after the meal Mrs. Farnsworth
washed the dishes. We discussed the mat-
ter of the egg and poultry business. Harold
suggested that T go downstairs and start
the incubator so it would be ready for the
eggs in‘a day or two. I went downstairs,
He followed me down and we got into an
argument. He told me I was foolish for
wanting to leave. I told him I didn’t
feel that way, that I wasn’t making any
headway around there, and that IT had
been working two months for nothing.
“One word led to another, L punched
him in the stomach. I wrested the axe
from him. About that time Mrs. Farns-
worth heard the noise and came down. I
do not remember how she got there but
I do remember her being there.
“T had the axe and I raised it in both
my hands and swung for his head. I did
not intend to kill him, but I wanted to
hurt him. Then I saw her in front of me.
... I do not remember seeing her fall
or hitting her more than once... .
| shall Isay it?—one
I didn’t know he was a
Grand Duke—I just knew
he was looking wistfully at
that fresh package of Bee-
man’s in my hand. “Have
some?” I offered. “With
pleasure!” he answered —
and bowed as if I were
royalty!
“This refreshing Beeman’s
flavor,” he confided, “— it
has that delicious American .
pep! Never can I resist its
tempting tang! A thousand
thanks for this so luscious \.
treat! You are—how
srand friend!”
65
THE DRAMA OF A STRANGE LOVE THAT WAS ENDED BY DOUBLE MURDER
skeletons in the man’s past, yet Bernice-
was undismayed. Nothing the prosecutor
’ Bernice slapped her notebook shut and
hurried down a corridor, came into the
could say would make her change her ‘anteroom through a side door, and told
mind. Nothing that Race himself would
confess could still the murmur of passion
that beat in her heart.
There was something about the set of «
his jaw, the light in his eyes, the daunt-
less vigor and courage in his poise, that -
thrilled this woman who had never before
‘known real love. Over and over to herself
she repeated: 2 :
“T love him. I love him. No matter
what happens to him, I will wait until
he is free and we will be married. Ill
make him forget everything that has been
his past and we ‘two will walk toward
the future hand in hand, toward a greater
happiness.”’- ‘
Nothing mattered to Bernice. Hers had
been a lonely life, desolate of male com-
panionship. She was starved for the love
of a man who was strong and passionate,
and she felt instinctively that Harry Race,
ex-convict that he was, was the man of
her choice.
The district ‘attorney resumed his chair.
The defense rested. County Judge Orla
Black ruffled his black robes and looked
toward the defendant. He recited the
points of law and pointed out Race’s bad
record.
“On the face of the evidence presented
to me,” he said, “I must find you guilty
as charged. I sentence you to seven years
in Auburn prison.” ~
Bernice Kenyon’s pretty face was.
drained of color and she clutched her
pencil so tightly that it snapped. She
couldn’t tear her eyes away from the face
of the man she loved—a man who had
scarcely noticed her.
Race was led out of the courtroom and
into an antechamber to’ await the prison’
van that would take him away to Auburn.
the guard she wanted to talk to Race.
There is no complete record of the
words that passed from the lips of: the
woman into the ears of the startled
prisoner.
All that the guard remembered was
that they suddenly and fervently em-
braced. Then she cried, “I'll wait for
you, Harry. I'll wait.until they free you,
and then we’ll get married. I'll write you
every day... .” ; 3
At that point the prison van arrived
and Race was led away to do his stretch
in Auburn. :
Bernice Kenyon’s friends were shocked
at the news she freely circulated that she
was going to marry the ex-convict.
“No good will come of it, you wait and
see,” was'all the friends could say as they
shook their heads in bewilderment. :
Every day Bernice wrote to Harry
Race. They were ardent letters, filled
with scorching phrases that portrayed her
repressed love for the man. Every visi-
‘tors’ day found her seated opposite him
at Auburn prison where only the heavy
mesh wire separated them—and even its
chill failed to dim the passion of the
kisses they exchanged when the guard
came in and tapped Bernice on the shoul-
der to notify her her time was up.
- For five long years this went on and
then Harry Race was paroled. His con-
duct had been exemplary. He had been a
model ‘prisoner and the authorities, aware
that he was to marry Miss Kenyon, and
that he might be rehabilitated by her love,
signed his parole.
When the big prison gate swung open
to pass Race into the freedom of the
world, Bernice was there waiting for him,
She had purchased a small farm in Cold
Spring Township, and it, was there they.
were to head.
Race was released in August 1, 1934.
Six days later he and Bernice became
man and wife. Directly they took up
occupancy of the little farm among the
brooding hills of Cold Spring. Township.
‘All Bernice’s friends waited with: bated
breath for something to happen. “No good
will come of it, you wait and see,” they
continued to warn.
UT RACE FOOLED them all. He
worked like a Trojan on the small
farm. He ploughed the ground, spread .
his fertilizer, put in his seed, and the
neighbors reckoned that he had done
about the best job of planting in the
whole township. From dawn to dusk
there was work to do aplenty, and Race
never shirked.
Now, with time to spare, Bernice
started to work on the:novel she had long
wanted to write. It was the story of her
own life—fact that was sure to be
stranger than fiction. It related every
step that had led her from the little
Cattaraugus County town to this farm
and her marriage to a man who had been
‘an enemy of. society. :
The Summer and Fall slipped past. The
crops were great. Race sold his milk and
. cream from the ten cows they owned. He
sold his vegetables in the markets in and
about the township. -They had saved
money that year and now with the com-
ing of cold weather they made repairs on
the house and outbuildings.
“T’ll be able to finish my book before
Spring,” Bernice told her husband hap-
pily. “I can thank you for that, Harry.”
He took her in his arms and kissed her.
“You have done everything for me,
darling,” he whispered, “You have given
me a new life and something to work for.”
13
ae DS ene
“Warold ran upstairs, I did not hear
him run to the second floor but I remem-
ber hearing him coming down the second-
floor stairs. The idea flashed into. my
head that he had gone to get a gun. I
knew they had a gun in the house. It
was her gun, It was a 32 caliber re-
volver... .
“T ran upstairs. I wanted to wait in
the alcove between the dining-room and
the living-room. My purpose was to wait
for Harold there and, if he had the gun,
take it away from him so he couldn’t shoot
me. He was almost ins the living-room.
I grabbed him around the waist, pinning
his arms to his sides. I took the gun away
from him, I do not know how. Ire-
member aiming the gun at him and
firing. ...
LINDSAY insisted that he did not re-
member ransacking the bureau draw-
ers, opening the metal boxes, packing his
clothes in a suitcase, getting out the au-
tomobile, or tossing the milk cans out in
the woods on the way to the main road
where Ira Bennett: later found them. The
first he remembered, so he declared, after
his fit of fury, was stopping on the main
road about a mile away to collect his
had disclosed that the hair found in the
dead man’s fingers had come from the
victim’s head.
It was growing dark that night when
we finally gathered again in Lake View
Tavern to discuss developments and to
check new information received during the
day. Ada Young arrived there around
ten o’clock. She said she had remembered
that she had seen another hammer about
the premises in addition to the large tack
hammer we had already found, and had
walked down from her father’s home to
tell us. Parkin and Blance tried to lo-
cate this tool, but failed.
“You seem cut up about this man’s
death,” said the observant Sheriff. ;
“T am,” the girl returned frankly. “T
thought as much of him as I do of my
own father. Besides, this may mean I’m
out of a job.” She went on to explain
that she had sent word to Crowhurst that
she was planning to return to work. She
was awaiting his telephone call on Mon-
day when she received word from her
mother that he had been slain.
“Perhaps you could help us with an-
other matter,” Hodgkins continued. “As
you probably know there were four dol-
lars found in Crowhurst’s pockets, and
approximately the same amount in the
cash register. As near as we can learn,
he had about $100 besides. Did he carry
such amounts in his pockets or in a bill-
fold?”
“He had a black leather billfold,” the
girl answered. “Usually he had this with
him; other times he hid it in his room
in a cigar box which he kept in his trunk.”
“We heard about that,” the Sheriff re-
plied. ‘We found the cigar box in the
trunk, but it was empty.”
“There is still another place he used
occasionally. It was beneath the paper
lining of his upper bureau drawer.”
All of us hurried down the passageway
leading into the living quarters. The
Sheriff reached up and found the light
cord. He walked to the bureau and pulled
open the drawer. Pushing aside its or-
derly and apparently undisturbed con-
tents, he peered beneath the neatly folded
newspaper lining. Lying in a depression
that concealed its presence was a man’s
66
thoughts. Then he drove on swiftly, threw
the gun in a ditch after passing through
Olean, and continued toward New York
City.
Near Elmira he ran out of gas and
bought five gallons. He drove all day.
When dark came he, found that the lights
and horn would not work: The fuse was
gone so he made a temporary one with
tin foil from a- cigarette package. He
abandoned the car in front of 983 Colum-
bus Avenue about 10:30 o’clock that Tues-
day night, got on the clevated railroad
and rode around all night.
Bedeviled by his own conscience and
his fear of the law, Lindsay spent most of
his time during the next few days in riding
around on the elevated or subway. Once
he rented a room on Manhattan Avenue
and paid a week’s rent, but he was afraid
to go back and never saw the place again.
Tt. was during one of those rare and _in-
frequent times when he stopped riding
in order to snatch something to eat that
the two New York City detectives, Clancy
and Notheis, spotted him in the restau-
rant.
Even without his confession,.the prose-
cution had an excellent case against
Lindsay. The fingerprints on the two
Tavern Tragedy
(Continued from page 31)
long, black leather wallet.
He threw open the flap. “It’s stuffed
with bills!” he exclaimed. We counted
them and found there was $185, including
two checks that Crowhurst had evidently
cashed for Alton Young and Hollis My-
rick.
From outside came the sudden explosive
acceleration of an automobile engine.
Somebody fumbled with the latch of the
tavern door and threw it open noisily.
We ran back through the passage. Mrs.
Blance, wife of the deputy sheriff, stood in
the doorway. She was excited and out of
breath. ;
“Who was in that car that just drove
off?” Hodgkins asked.
“I don’t know,” the woman replied. We
rushed to look out, but could see nothing.
“It was standing parked close to the tav-
ern when I drove up to meet my hus-
band. The driver was leaning out of the
machine peeping in one of the windows.”
“Was it a man or woman?”
“I couldn’t tell. As soon as I stopped
my car and stepped out, whoever it was
slipped back behind the wheel and sped
down the road.”
Questioned further, she said the ma-
chine looked like a 1931 Chevrolet sport
coupé and she felt sure it had yellow
wheels. She was unable to see the regis-
tration numbers because the driver kept
the tail-light off until almost out of sight.
A few minutes later we left the tavern,
feeling. the case was more baffling than
ever. ae
We had, however, learned one very im-
portant fact. The motive for the mur-
der apparently had not been robbery.
Early the next morning, acting under
orders of the Sheriff, Blance, Parkin and
Milford Coombs, the tavern clerk, went
to Augusta for a conference in Lieutenant
Shepard’s office with State’s Attorney
Powers of Androscoggin County, his spe-
cial investigator, John Haines, and Cap-
tain David V. Berry, of the Auburn Po-
lice Department, to discuss the similarity
of the Crowhurst and Penney murders in
the hope that a comparison of the circum-
stances might reveal some actual connec-
tion between the two crimes. A_ brief
conference convinced the Auburn authori-
metal boxes beside Farnsworth’s body
re to be Lindsay’s. Miss Moynihan
eld steadfastly to her story that she did
not give him permission to sleep the
night of March 4th in her brother’s vacant
summer home, but that he stole the key
from her and the other belongings he said
he used there.
It is probably needless to say that no
one else was implicated in the double
murder.
Supreme Court Justice George A. Larkin
presided at Lindsay’s trial. Local feel-
ing ran high and his was not an casy job,
but he handled it in a masterly fashion.
District Attorney Kreiger had built up,
step by step, a strong case for the People
and ably presented it. G. Sydney Shane
of Salamanca and Cornelius J. McCarthy
of Olean, N. Y., were assigned to defend
Lindsay and amazed everyone by_ the
thoroughness of their preparation and the
fight they put 3 in his behalf. The Peo-
pat case was bitterly contested to the
end.
The jury, however, had no difficulty in
finding the defendant guilty of murder in
the first degree. He was electrocuted at
Sing Sing Prison on August 29th, 1935, at
11:03 P.M.
ties that the similarities were not so
marked as first thought, and this phase
of the case was dropped.
On Thursday, July 28th, Lieutenant
Lawrence C, Upton, of the Maine State
Police, was detailed by Captain Young
through Lieutenant Wardwell to assist the
Hancock County Sheriff’s department with
the investigation. Upton has figured in
many cases and is considered a shrewd and
outstanding detective.
In Bar Harbor, together with Blance,
Parkin and Deputy Sheriff Tribou, he
checked up the activities of Henry Morse.
This patina admitted he had hung around
the tavern a great deal. 3
“Do you know of anybody who had
any trouble with Crowhurst or made any
threats against him?” Upton asked.
“Not a soul that I remember,” the
young man replied.
“By the way,” Blance cut in. “Were
you up to the tavern on Sunday night?”
MORSE hesitated. “No, I wasn’t,” he
said finally. “I worked at the Parker
Boat Company until about nine o’clock.
Then I hung around town for a while and
met a couple of fellows. We talked until
about half-past ten. Then I went out to
my camp for the night.”
“Happen to remember who it was you
met?” Upton asked.
The youth gave the address of the two
young fellows he named. Deputy Tribou
and State Patrolman Lord left to look
them up. Upton remained to obtain ad-
ditional information concerning the loan
to the hairdresser, and also learn new
facts regarding the tavern management.
From there he went on to Sullivan to
check on the elusive Crosby, who had
vanished once before when about to be
questioned for murder.
Crosby was not in town, but Upton and
Blance talked with his brother, who told
him that Edward had been at his house
on July 14th with his wife and daughter.
They had stayed about a week, calling on
friends in Gouldsboro and Bar Harbor. On
July 2ist they returned to their home in
Nashua, New Hampshire.
“Are you sure he has not been back
since?” Upton questioned. “Folks living
MASTER DETECTIVE
P= Geet
near the tave?
around there 01.
‘Tt couldn't
brother re}
side pocki
which he
was dated Juls
CLIFTON CRO>
BAR HARBOR—
IN TROUBLE =
LARS AT ON‘
WILL RETURN
“I didn’t *
elder Crosby »
not come ba
A. telephon:
Department |
-man had re
This angle
Morse’s inne
parent when
the youth’s =
We had |!
for the sha
Rhode Islan:
of us still fel
of gallons «i
the night ©
Crowhurst h:
pump.
CARROL.
Gouldsbe
that he had =
day night to
line. As Cro
of gallons fo
correspondin:
This would
and seven-t‘
with the pric
The tavern
customer 4&5
“Usually |
when I sto,
didn’t de
pumped th:
into the ta’
Co1 :
able
after
up. Uae >
out. Again
On Aug:
Blance dro
talk with |
gone to Ww
and the }°
ployer's: di
every day
all other n:
place up «©
gas tank :
“Was tl
‘at the tin
“Ada Y¥
two week-
Stanley i:
to help -
Saturday
“What
was the?
bookker:
What
between
woman?
“They
to spend
“Do yt
“Becau
told her
ing wren
“Did +
uy ne
anything
everythin
boss, We
AUGUST. -
LINDSAY, Alfred, white, elec, Sing Sing
(Cattaraugus Co.) 8-29-1935...
4 — ‘ — SS ee
% -
HE COURTROOM was packed. Kenyon, and she had been born and
All eyes were focused on the de- brought up in Cattaraugus County. She
‘fendant, a tall, lean, good-looking had been the court stenographer in
man who rested his elbows on the Little Valley for more than ten years.
arms of the witness chair and leaned Bernice Kenyon had taken this job
forward aggressively as the district at- for one reason. She wanted to be on
torney bombarded him with questions. ‘the inside” of life. Bernice Kenyon
He answered the questions crisply. hoped to be a writer. She was the
He was no neophyte in court proce- type
dure. He had been through all this to turn out . that
many times before. Harry C. Race, novel.” She knew from experience and
alias Harold Farnsworth, was an ex- from words of advice handed down to
convict. He had served prison terms _ her from friendly editors who had
in Vermont and Connecticut for white accepted some of her work, and re-
slavery, done a stretch in Nassau jected a great deal of it, that you have
County, New York, for burglary, and to know what you are writing about.
-hhad served terms in Sing Sing and You have to know people: You have
Auburn. : to know what makes a woman love a
Now he was on trial in Cattaraugus man the rest of the world would shun.
County courthouse in Little Valley, Bernice Kenyon realized at that
New York, on a.charge of carrying very moment, as Harry Race leaned
concealed . weapons. forward in the witness chair, that she
Below him at a desk sat the court would know all about such a love!
stenographer—an _ attractive, dark- She was desperately in love with
haired woman with luminous brown Race—had been since the day,she first
eyes, whose appearance belied her age saw him in the courtroom. The dis-
of forty-seven. Her name was Bernice trict attorney had rattled all the grisly
rd
fe
|
!
}
4
BY HARRY
D. FARREN
{ 12
fais
of person who some day wants
“great American
Ure ADLIMWE hbitce ture
LVeVEMBER, (940
o4
out. Make believe you want to see that
woman again.
‘Meet me here tomorrow night,” added
Ramos as he slipped El Curo a bill.
For a few days this arrangement was
kept up. Each night El Curo reported.
He found that two of Rugama’s friends
were called Big Argentine and Little Ar-
gentine.’ The former's real name was An-
drew Garcia and he had lived in the vicin-
ity with a woman named Lucille Smith.
Immediately on learning the address
Ramos communicated with Headquarters
and a raid was staged. However, the
occupants had left and there the trail
ended.
On the evening following the raid,
Ramos trailed El Curo when he left the
restaurant rendezvous. It was a crisp,
cold. midwinter night without a moon,
The stars glittered like splinters of frosty
steel in the black sky. El Curo’s thin
figure was dimly outlined by the street
lights as he shuffled along.
Suddenly Ramos saw two shadows rush
out from a building and jerk El Curo
from view. Realizing that he could not
follow immediately without breaking the
secrecy surrounding his operations, the de-
tective watched from a distance.
In a few moments El Curo bolted into
the street, ran wildly in the direction from
which he had come. As he passed Ramos’
hiding place, the latter stepped out and
seized him.
EL CURO’S teeth were chattering and
he was shaking with a violence that .
was not caused by the cold alone. The
whites of his eyeballs shone in the dark.
“I’m through,” he insisted, “they'll kill
me. | can’t tell you any more.”
“Who was after you?”
“Some of Big Argentine’s friends. I’m
through with this thing now and | mean
Since El Curo was evidently being
watched, it was necessary to cut adrift
from him at once, and Ramos was faced
with the problem of making his own con-
tacts. Accordingly he turned in his shield
and revolver at Headquarters and assumed
the disguise of a vagrant seaman. Clad in
a pair of faded dungarees, blue work-shirt
open at the throat, and a tattered navy
pea-jacket, frayed and worn, he began to
frequent speakeasies and cheap hotels in
the Spanish section. By this, he hoped to
locate some trace of Rugama or Garcia.
“| just came off the Calamares,’ he
would tell the crowd of hangers-on around
the places that he visited, “and I’m look-
ing for some old friends of_mine—Mike
Rugama and Big Argentine Garcia.”
One night, out of the numerous shrugs
and head-shakings of denial which greeted
his queries, some one volunteered that
they heard about Big Argentine going to
Newark with his woman, Lucille Smith.
“Newark’s a big place,” said Ramos.
“Yes,” said his informant, “I’m not sure
that he’s over there, but | heard someone
mention it the other day.”
With this information, meager as it was,
Ramos decided to try his luck in the New
Jersey city. Accordingly he reported at
Headquarters that he was leaving in search
of Lucille Smith and Garcia. For the
mofment it was necessary to let the trail of
Mike Rugama grow cold.
Weeks passed in weary, fruitless wander-
ing. Finally on the fifth day of April,
Ramos, posing as an old sea friend of
Garcia’s, was introduced to Lucille Smith.
A. dark-skinned woman of thirty, she
flashed scowling eyes at Ramos.
“What do you want with Big Argen-
tine?” she asked, a note of mistrust evi-
dent in her voice.
“We were shipmates once,” said Ramos
easily, “and | wanted to say hello to him.
Master Detective
1 thought maybe he would like to sail
again.
The frown on Lucille Smith’s face re-
laxed. Her lips parted in a wide smile.
“Garcia has been keeping pretty much
to himself lately. | haven’t seen him in
quite a while, but his brother is coming
over to my house tonight and he might
be able to tell you something about him.”
“Where do you live?”
She gave him the address. “Come over
about nine o'clock,” she instructed.
That evening Ramos went to the ad-
dress mentioned. It was in the heart of
the district that he had been watching for
the past few weeks. The address was a
tenement house, built at the close of the
last century to accommodate the influx
of immigrant factory workers. Ramos
knocked on the thin wooden door of Lu-
cille Smith’s apartment.
“Come in,” boomed a man’s voice.
Ramos opened the door carefully and
peered inside. Seated around a table on
which the supper dishes stood in an untidy
heap, were two men and Lucille Smith
Andrew Ageitos Garcia, one of the
three accused. He fled to Spain
after the killing
playing a game of cards. The air was blue
with tobacco smoke which drifted in lazy
streaks beneath the light.
“It’s that sailor I was telling you about,
José,” said Lucille to the man on her
ent. .
he latter looked up at Ramos, smiled,
flashing gold teeth. .
“Sit down,” said José, “I am Garcia’s
brother.”
Ramos bowed acknowledgment and
drew up a chair.
“This is Camilio Diaz,” said Lucille, in-
djcating the man on the other side of her
with a careless wave of the hand. The
latter nodded glumly, eyes fixed on his
cards,
“! don’t want to disturb your game,”
said Ramos, “I came to see you, José
Garcia, because I thought you might be
able to tell me where Andrew was. |
have a ship job for him.”
“My brother isn’t here any more,” said
José. “He just booked passage for Spain.”
For a moment Ramos was taken aback.
“Spain?” he asked.
“Yes, he ought to land there some time
this week.”
“Then I guess he’s all right,” said
Ramos, forcing a smile. Was this to be
the result of all his patient work?
“You know,” he said, “I’d like to see
some of the others, Mike Rugama and the
rest, but no one seems to know where
they are.”
The man called Diaz, who up to this
time had been absorbed in his cards,
grunted,
“Why don’t you look up that woman,
Jane White, that they kept? She ought to
know where they are living,” he said.
“But where does she liver”
“Right here in town.” He supplied an
address.
“T’ll do that,” said Ramos as he got up
from his chair. He shook hands with José
Garcia and Diaz and thanked Lucille
Smith,
“I! hope I can find them. It will be nice
to meet old friends again,” he said as he
went out of the door.
Once in the street, Ramos rushed to the
first taxicab that he saw.
“Police Headquarters,” he called to the
astonished driver as he jumped inside.
The cab sped off and within a few min-
utes arrived at its destination.
“Who is in charge of detectives?”
Ramos asked the uniformed man at the
lobby desk.
“Captain Heller.”
“I want to see him.”
The policeman raised his eyebrows
questioningly, scanning Ramos’ ill-kempt
appearance.
“l’m a New York police officer,” said
Ramos, as he passed his hand over a
week’s growth of beard.
A. broad-shouldered figure in civilian
clothes came up to the desk.
“{ heard you mention my name,” he
said. “What do you want?”
“I’m from New York,” said Ramos, “I
came out here on a secret investigation
without my shield or revolver and | need
some help. | want to search an apart-
ment here in Newark.”
“You had better call New York and
check up on me,” he added. “I know what
I look like.”
“Put a call through to New York,” or-
dered the Captain. The uniformed man
picked the telephone off the desk and
shortly afterwards Heller was talking to
Assistant Chief Inspector John J. Sullivan
at Headquarters.
“I guess you’re O.K.,” he said when he
had replaced the receiver and turned to
Ramos. “My men will help you in every
way.
It was late in the evening when Ramos,
accompanied by two Newark detectives,
entered the tenement house at the address
given him and sought out the sleepy-eyed
janitor,
sa you know Jane White?” they asked
im.
_The janitor rubbed a grimy hand across
his face, pushed back the ends of his
drooping moustache.
_“She isn’t here,” he said. “Her people
live up on the third floor, but she isn’t
ere.
The Newark men turned to Ramos ex-
pectantly.
“Let’s go up, anyhow,” he said.
THEY ascended the creaking wooden
stairs and paused at the third floor
landing. Ramos, ear to the door, knocked
softly. Inside he heard shuffling footsteps,
then an uncertain hand on the latch. The
door opened slightly and the wrinkled
face of a thin, aged man peered through
the crack. The Newark men flashed their
shields.
“Police officers,” they announced, forc-
ing the door open.
“Do you know Jane White,” Ramos
asked the old man, who stood clad in
trousers and woolen undershirt.
“My granddaughter,” he said in a thin,
quavering voice.
“Where is she now?”
“She’s away for a week. Why, is there
any trouble?”
“Nothing to worry about,” Ramos as-
sured him. “We just wanted to talk to
her. Do you mind if we look around the
place for a while.”
_ The old man shook his head, wonder-
ingly.
October, 1935
The thre
examine th
searching every «
the kitchen, Ran
bathroom which «
There was a tal
supplied the lavi
the seat and reac!
top was covered
stood on his tip
across it. With
two revolvers fi
One was a black |
was a silver-plate:
ber, manufacture
Manuel Escodine
Back to New Y
find. Ballistics t
it was found tha
un that killed b.
ince Krasnow,
certain that the
carried a black :
one found, Assisi
livan ordered a
drug store prem)
this gun.
Ramos, with I
Miguel Rug
wore tt
of the Radical
Horey of the 2
Amsterdam Ave
nal crime and
might have ente
The police, 11
had overlooked
cate a bullet ho
Goodwin’s deat!
the store. The
aged by fire anc
new panels hac
obliterating any
Expert police
the scene and tI
down under the
After hours of :
32 caliber gun,
ballistics burea
fired from the
Although ba
fact that the
track, the part
mained as elus)
as a seaman ar
friend of Mik
again trequenl
the city. This
April 7th he le:
to | Cottage P
about twenty-'
York City.
Within an ]
Ramos were
dress.
“Yes, 1 knov
landlady tald
here th
hills w
‘he said.
: supplied an
as he got up
nds with José
nked Lucille
t will be nice
he said as he
rushed to the
called to the
mped_ inside.
na few min-
1.
detectives?”
{ man at the
his eyebrows
ios’ ill-kempt
officer,” said
hand over a
e in civilian
iy name,” he
id Ramos. “I
investigation
er and | need
rch an apart-
ew York and
I know what
ew Yark” or-
nif¢ man
the and
Vas. ish g to
hn J. Sullivan
said when he
and turned to
) you in every
~ when Ramos,
ark detectives,
at the address
he sleepy-eyed
e?” they asked
ny hand across
ends of his
“Her people
but she isn’t
to Ramos ex-
» said.
eaking wooden
the third floor
door, knocked
fling footsteps,
the latch. The
the wrinkled
peered through
en flashed their
nnounced, forc-
White,” Ramos
stood clad in
shirt
said in a thin,
Why, is there
ut, OS as-
nte alk to
loo. «scund the
s head, wonder-
¢
October, 1935
The three detectives then proceeded to
examine the various rooms 1n the flat,
searching every corner. After inspecting
the kitchen, Ramos went to the small
bathroom which opened off the hall.
There was a tank near the ceiling which
supplied the lavatory. Ramos stood on
the seat and reached up to the tank. The
top was covered with a dusty board. He
stood on his tiptoes and swept his arm
across it. With a sharp metallic clatter,
two revolvers fell to the stone floor.
One was a black barreled .32 and the other
was a silver-plated gun. It was a 38 cali-
ber, manufactured by the Spanish firm of
Manuel Escodine. te
Back to New York went Ramos with his
find. Ballistics tests were conducted and
it was found that the silver 38 was the
gun that killed both Goodwin and Hortal.
Since Krasnow, Blust and Somers were
certain that the leader of the gang had
carried a black gun resembling the other
one found, Assistant Chief Inspector. Sul-
livan ordered a thorough search of the
drug store premises for a bullet fired from
this gun.
Ramos, with Detective Arthur Johnson
Miguel Rugama, the man who
wore the checkered coat
of the Radical Squad and Arthur M.
Horey of the 34th Squad went to 2196
Amsterdam Avenue to reenact the origi-
nal crime and discover where the bullet
might have entered the wall. aa
The police, in a previous examination,
had overlooked marks which would indi-
cate a bullet hole, because on the night of
Goodwin's death a fire had broken out in
the store. The walls had been badly dam-
aged by fire and water and since that time
new panels had been put in, completely
obliterating any traces.
Expert police carpenters were called to
the scene and this new panelling was taken
down under the direction of the detectives.
After hours of search a lead pellet, from a
32 caliber gun, was found. Faken to the
ballistics bureau it was identified as one
fired from the black .32.
Although ballistic tests confirmed the
fact that the police were on the right
track, the participants in the crime. re-
mained as elusive as ever. Still Giese
as a seaman and advertising himself as a
friend of Mike Rugama’s, Ramos once
again. fre uented the Spanish quarter of
the city. This time he was in luck, for on
April 7th he learned that Mike had moved
to 1 Cottage Place, White Plains, a town
about twenty-five miles north of New
York City.
Within an hour Horey, Johnson and
Ramos were at the White Plains ad-
dress.
“Yes, | know the man you mean,” the
landlady told them, “but he hasn’t_ been
here this week. He’s working out in the
hills with a tree planting outfit—The
What’s the difference
between Eveready
Flashlight
Batteries and
an old,
worn-out joke?
Easy !
The joke’s ‘*dated’’
because it’s stale...
but WE’RE ‘‘DATED’’
BECAUSE WE’ RE FRESH
IT GUARANTEES THEYRE FRE S i
‘Batteries will “go dead” if left over-long on
- dealers’ shelves. All Eveready Batteries have
‘that guarantees FRESHNESS. Only.
aries give uniform, dependable
“the “Date-Line” when you buy
Co., Inc., New York, N. Y.
THE BERNARR MACFADDEN HEALTH RESORT invites you to find
again life’s most precious possession—spirited youth. ° This resort is at
Dansville, N. Y., patronized by boys and girls of all ages, from sixteen to
eighty. ° If you have forgotten how to play they will teach you. ° All
non-contagious diseases scared to death by physicultopathic measures.
® Write for information to Physical Culture, Inc.. Dansville, N. Y.
Keeps right on
satisfying ...
Eureka,
er 21st,
Ogden,
ig d
forg..,
ed Oc-
rt, who
Okla-
rrested
ik rob.
entura
le W.
» made
anuary
istable
‘d for
police.
'P by
ounty,
Mem.
paid.
scape.
olman
ether
orado
atrol-
vy and
Iden-
vilian
imble
ngers
tid to
October, 1935
Master Detective
53
3
SOFTENS YOUR WHISKERS
Ingram’s direct wilting action takes
all the fight out of whiskers. Softens
them right down to the skin line!
CONDITIONS YOUR SKIN
Ingram’s unique lubricating action
tones and smooths your skin, makes
the razor glide without a scuff or skip.
COOLS YOUR SKIN Ingram’s
famous cooling action gives you
comfortable shaves from start to finish.
'No need for lotion and no rawness!
INGRAM SHAVING CREAM
GOOD REASONS why Ingram’ will give
you better shaves Three special ingredients are put
into Ingram’s Shaving Cream to give
you these three special shaving helps—
\st, faster and more thorough softening of
whiskers. 2nd, proper preparation of your in
for the razor. 3rd, coolness and comfort, while
you are shaving and for several hours after.
One quick, cool once-over will sign you up
for life as a happy Ingram’s shaver! And
your shaves will cost less. Ingram’s Shavin
Cream is concentrated; three months of od
shaves in each tube or jar.
TRY THE WORLD'S COOLEST SHAVE
TUBE OR JAR
>
BRISTOL-MYERS CO., Dept. G-105 PAA
110 Washington St., New York, N. Y.
I want better shaves! Send the free 10-day tube of Ingram’s.
Name
Street,
City
State
The Man in the Checkered Coat
Sensing that Lopez was agitated about
something, Ramos complied: and entered
the store.
“What do you think,” said Lopez, an
agonized whine in his voice, “they kill that
guy Hortal.”
Ramos nodded. “Did you know him?”
he asked.
“Know him?” exclaimed Lopez. “He
had over a hundred dollars worth of my
furniture. Now who is going to pay
for it?”
“Oh,” said Ramos, “so he bought stuff
from you on installments.”
“QURE thing. Those guys come in here
and fight like cats. Now they leave
me without paying for what they took.”
“Who came in here?” questioned Ramos,
becoming interested.
“Hortal and a fellow by the name of
Mike Rugama. Hortal was complaining
that the others had tricked him into rent-
ing part of his apartment to them. They
had a woman up there and were running
some kind of joint.
“‘1’m an honest man,’ Hortal told Mike
once, ‘and I’m going to kick you all out.’
“Mike got mad when Hortal said this
and walked away without saying a word.”
“What does this Mike look like?” asked
Ramos.
Lopez rubbed a plump hand over his ©
chin.
“He’s short, dark, with a round face. He
goes around in a brown checkered over-
coat that hangs way below his knees.”
“A brown overcoat,” said Ramos, “that’s
very interesting. Well, we'll see what we can
do about your furniture. I guess you can
(Continued from page 17)
reclaim it,’ he said, as he left the store.
On his arrival at Police Headquarters,
Ramos went downstairs to the Radical
Squad. There, in a room crowded with
steel filing cases and office desks, he re-
ported to his superior, Captain Michael
McDermott, who at that time commanded
the squad. .
“| think I have something on last night’s
killings,” he said when he came to Mc-
Dermott’s desk.
“What?” asked McDermott, looking up
from a mass of forms and reports which
lay piled before him.
In a few words Ramos told him of what
he had learned.
The ballistics bureau was notified imme-
diately and the bullet taken from Hortal’s
body was subjected to microscopic exam-
ination. It was a .38 caliber and the
markings on it were clear. Compared with
the .38 taken from Goodwin some similar-
ity could be seen. However, the latter
bullet was badly damaged and Sergeant
Harry Butts reported that no definite con-
clusion could be reached.
CONFERENCE was then held among
the various detectives working on
the case, the upshot of it being that
Ramos was ordered to continue to fre-
quent the Spanish section of the city in
the hopes of picking up more information.
For two days he watched Hortal’s apart-
ment at 56 East 113th Street. TYhe furni-
ture had been removed ‘by Lopez and it
was bare and empty. No one appeared
or made any inquiry concerning the place.
On the second night Ramos was walking
down the dimly lit street when he spied
a tall, bushy-haired youth known as El
Curo, whom he had befriended on one or
two occasions. As he passed, Ramos
tapped him on the arm.
“Hello, boy,” he said, grinning at the
look of surprise on El Curo’s face. The
latter peered at Ramos, then his features
relaxed.
“For a minute you had me scared,” he
said.
“What are you doing now, anything?”
asked Ramos.
El Curo shrugged his thin shoulders.
“No,” he said, “I’m out of a job again.”
“MAYBE you can make a few dollars
working with me,” Ramos sug-
gested.
A look of anxiety came into El Curo’s
wide-opened eyes. He shuffled his feet
nervously.
“Come into the Coffee Pot and have a
bite to eat,” said Ramos, “and we'll talk it
over.”
Once inside the steamy cafeteria, seated
at a back table, El Curo brightened up.
Then Ramos told him what information
he desired.
“1 am looking for a fellow named Mike
Rugama who used to run a place at 56
East 113th Street. Hortal, the owner of
the place, was killed there a few years ago
and Mike has disappeared.”
“1 think | know who you mean,” said
El Curo between mouthfuls of hot soup,
“l was up to see that woman they had
there.”
“Then you know who I mean. I want
you to hang around and find out where
Mike or:some of his friends are hiding
a
56
Edgar Anderson Company I believe.” .
“Well look at his room,” said John-
son.
Ramos then decided to hit the trail for
his man before another slip-up took place,
so while Johnson and Horey searched the
room he took the squad car and went
looking for the landscape company. Ar-
riving at the office he found that Mike
Rugama was assigned to a crew working
on the side of a mountain between White
Plains and Valhalla.
“You'll see our trucks there,” the office
manager told him.
Ramos drove off and within a short
time came to the spot where the hauling
trucks were drawn up on the side of the
road. On questioning the drivers, he
learned that the main crew was located a
mile back in the woods.
The warm weather of the past few days
had begun to break the hard, icy grip of
winter on the earth and with the thaw
the ground had become spongy soft with
mud. Plugging along in the ooze on the
side of the hill, Ramos was caked with
dirt when he located the foreman of the
crew. The latter was talking to a check-
ing clerk when Ramos approached and
asked for Mike Rugama.
“What do vou want him for?” asked the
foreman.
“TAM a friend of his and I want to talk
to him.”
“He’s around somewhere,” said the fore-
man. “We have men spread out all over
this mountain today.”
As they were talking, a short, squat man
in khaki breeches. high boots and heavy
flannel shirt came down the mountain path
bearing on his shoulders a young sapling.
As he drew near he kept his eyes on the
ground, carefully picking his way through
the treacherous mud.
“Hey, Mike,” called the foreman, “some-
one here to see vou.”
The man with the tree raised his dark
face. When he saw Ramos he started, and
with a crash the tree dropped to the
ground.
“Hello, Mike.” said Ramos, advancing
toward Rugama who stood with hands on
his hips.
“What do vou want?” asked Rugama.
“You're a dick, aren’t your”
“Why, ves,” admitted Ramos, “I am.
You see we found some suspects in the
Hortal case and we would like to have
you look them over.”
aetna turned to the foreman inquir-
ingly.
“Go ahead. Mike,” the latter urged.
“You can get back this afternoon and |
won't dock you any time.”
Rugama took the cap from his head and
scratched his curly black hair. Reluc-
tantly he began to walk down to the road
with Ramos. On the way the latter in-
vented a story on how the police were
ready to solve the Hortal case and Ru-
gama seemed to be reassured. When they
reached the car, Rugama hesitated, eyed
his mud-caked boots and torn shirt.
“I'd like to clean up before | go with
you.” he said.
“Oh. no, you don’t,” said Ramos to him-
self. thinking of the ransacked room.
“Don't bother.” he said aloud. “It
won't be worth while. You'll be back at
work within a few hours.”
Both men scraped the thick caked mud
from their feet and climbed into the car.
Meanwhile, Horey and Johnson had en-
tered Rugama’s room. In the closet they
found the suspected overcoat—brown with
a large checkered design. Taking this with
them they left for New York City where
they met Ramos and Rugama at the East
Fifty-first Street Station. As soon as the
latter arrived word was sent out to locate
‘all witnesses in the Goodwin case. The
Master Detective
first one to arrive was Edward Somers.
“That’s one of them,” he cried, when he
saw Rugama sitting calmly on a bench
along the wall.
“Is this the overcoat he wore,” asked
Johnson, exhibiting the coat. Rugama
cursed under his breath.
“That’s the coat,” said Somers. “I never
saw two like that.”
Rugama was then questioned thor-
oughly, but refused to reveal anything
concerning himself or his companions, As
a result the police hunt for all who were
in any way connected with the case was
intensified. On April 9th the Newark po-
lice picked-up Jane White, a dark, slender
girl of twenty. When brought to New
York for questioning, she admitted that
she had been living with Hortal, Rugama
and a man named Antonio Lopez.
“On the night of February 15th,” she
said, “Mike and Lopez left the house
early. I went out for a walk a little after
eleven o'clock, and when I got back there
was Hortal on the floor, dead. | got
frightened and went to Newark.”
“Have you seen any of the men since
that night?” asked Ramos.
“Lopez came to see me once and he hid
the guns at my place.”
This was the first clue given the police
SEND YOUR BOY TO BERNARR
MACFADDEN’S MAN-BUILDING
SCHOOL at Lebanon, Tennessee.
@ Accepted by all educational in-
stitutions as a high class prepara-
tory school and junior college.
@ Ages accepted from nine years.
© Prepare your boy for the battle
of professional or business life by
making him a square-shouldered,
double-fisted fighting man. @ Write
for information.
as to the identity of the third member of
the bandit gang. The Newark authorities
had on file his finger-prints and photo-
graph. His previous record of four con-
victions had resulted in two terms in the
State’s Prison. A general alarm was broad-
cast for his arrest and all police were in-
structed to watch for him.
In the meantime, the search for the
others continued and on May 2nd, Lucille
Smith was taken into custody. She ex-
pressed surprise when Ramos came to
question her and she learned that he was
a police officer. He convinced her that it
would be to her best interests to tell all
that_she knew about the case.
“Garcia and Lopez came over to my
place late that mgt,” she said. “There
was no room to sleep on the floor so we
all slept in the same bed. Garcia couldn’t
sleep. He kept pulling his hair and saying
Fag saw the electric chair waiting for
im.
“Is this the Garcia that went to Spain?”
“Yes, that’s the fellow.”
Acting on this information a cablegram
was dispatched to the Spanish authorities
asking them to hold one Andrew Ageitos
Garcia on suspicion, pending the drawing
up of formal extradition papers. Since
all new arrivals were carefully supervised
by the Spanish police, it was a relatively
short time before word came back that
Garcia was in custody.
From this point on, events began to
move quickly toward a solution of the
crime. Lucille Smith and Jane White
were detained as material witnesses while
Rugama sulked in his cell in the Tombs.
On the eighteenth of June, Antonio Lopez
was trapped as he attempted to visit some
of his old haunts on East 113th Street.
A thin, pinch-faced man with a tangled
mass of black hair, he offered no resistance
when arrested and informed of the charges
against him. Despite his denials, two
events had taken place during the inter-
vening month which had bolstered the
case against the suspects.
One was the arrest on May 7th, of Louis
Palmore and Emanuel Ramirez at 116th
Street and Lenox Avenue. These men,
wanted for robbery of a tailor shop on
West 112th Street, admitted that they
were accompanied at the time by Garcia,
Rugama and Lopez. They named Amer-
igo Puig as the man who had driven the
taxicab which took the gang to 2196 Am-
sterdam Avenue on the night of February
15th. Both Palmore and Ramirez pleaded
guilty to robbery charges and were sen-
tenced to twelve and fifteen years in Sing
Sing respectively.
When Puig, the taxi-driver, was located
he was brought before Rugama. Upon
seeing him the latter was visibly shaken.
“TTL tell all,’ he said, in an effort to
clear himself of the shooting of Good-
win.
Puig admitted that he had driven Gar-
cia, Rugama and Lopez around the city
on the night in question.
“They told me to stop at the Amster-
dam Avenue store,” he said, “and | waited
there when they went inside. In a few
minutes they came Mogan 3 out and told
me to drive downtown. They got off on
the West Side near Seventy-second Street
and'I continued cruising for passengers. |
didn’t know there had been any shoot-
ing.”
Rugama likewise named Lopez and Gar-
cia as members of the band that had in-
vaded Krasnow’s drug store. About the
Hortal affair he would say nothing, and
neither would Lopez after he was appre-
hended.
The New York District Attorney’s office
proceeded with this information to pre-
are extradition papers for Garcia, and in
July the State Department requested the
panish authorities to turn him over to
the jurisdiction of the United States.
However, difficulties arose because of the
new constitution promulgated after the
downfall of King Alfonso and the mon-
archy. Under the new, law Spain refused
to grant extradition of its own citizens but
offered to try them in Spain on evidence
submitted by foreign complainants.
DETECTIVE JOHNSON was sent to
Spain to present the public prosecu-
tor with the evidence gathered by the
New York police, while in the United
States Lopez and Rugama were placed on
trial. On November 24th, the jury in the
Court of General Sessions returned a ver-
dict of guilty as to Lopez but disagreed
as to Rugama. On December 8th, Ru-
gama was granted a new trial and on the
‘20th he was found guilty. A day later he
joined Lopez in the death house at Sing
Sing.
While their case was being reviewed by
the Court of Appeals, Garcia was tried
abroad and was acquitted. However, the
New York authorities appealed the case
and at the present time he is being held in
custody awaiting a new trial. Lopez and
Rugama were denied retrials by the higher
court and on May 25th, Antonio Lopez
was electrocuted. At the last moment a
stay was granted to Rugama and on May
30th, his sentence was commuted by Gov-
ernor Herbert H. Lehman and he is now
serving a life term behind Sing Sing bars.
In consideration for the persons con-
cerned, two actual names have been with-
held in the foregoing story and fictitious
names substituted, namely: Jane White
and Lucille Smith.—Eb.
October, 1935
guardroom. Th
and asked to be
City. |
The man whe
with what [ tho
now that it mt
my_safety—a ge
“This pass is
you want to gi
can do to prev
the advice of <
out of there.’
“TIL take a «
looks too hot. !
The door ope
me, Instantly,
heart and soul,
of those admir
blood-curdling
mult | beheld!
The sheer de
tarily transfixec
and chattering
many with mut
about the whit
pregnable stone
to withstand st
ELL doors \
locks batte
was strewn oO’
overhead, in on
the sound of st
It gave the im
sledge wielder \
on duty, they w
they must hay
maintaining an
convicts were «
spree nol:
es $ ba
had ; ed :
late. Several bt
“You're a re:
the convicts sa
“Yes, [| am,”
“Come with |
1 felr myselt
the center of
maze of scowl!
about me. At !
taken a nickel
| was whiske
to an upper tie
dience to orde:
edge of a bunk
One of my e
behind him.
“Someone go
A mere dese:
to express ms
moment. In s¢
only civilian tr
These desperac
their mercy—'
knew not whic
But at the san
find myself res
unexpected cor
which comes t
life with their
Word of my
like wild-fire.
large delegatio
meantime. Jim
identity) ¢lbov
before me.
“What pppe:
he wanted ‘°
[ promptly
The intorma
ference. It was
ing the perio:
man, of about
from ° imp
furtk zk
some fan
ord of petty felonies and arrests;
he also had a bad complexion, and
this was of interest to the au-
thorities. Mary Jane Cassidy had
said that the main thing which
she remembered about the man
who did the shooting was that he
had a bad complexion.’ When once
on trial in General Sessions court
Mardavich’s complexion had been
described by the trial judge as
“the worst case of acne ever seen
in this court”. The prisoner was
taken before Mary Jane Cassidy.
Whether or not Miss Cassidy iden-
tified Mardavich is a secret which
at this writing the New York Police
Department is jealously guarding.
Suffice it to say, however, that af-
ter Mary Jane had viewed the
prisoner the police redoubled their
efforts in grilling him. For eight
hours straight relays of detectives
questioned the suspect and finally
Morris Mardavich came clean.
He cringed down in the seat,
the chair in which he had been
squirming for eight hours and ad-
. mitted that he was the fright-
ened holdup man whose hand had
squeezed the gun trigger which
snuffed out Harry Maxwell's life.
He also told Detectives McGrath
and McDonnell the names of the
men who had been with him on the
night of the fatal holdup.
On that fatal Sunday morning
Mardavich, with three pals; Vin-
cent (Little Timmy) Morgano, a
five foot one inch tall car jockey
who worked in a parking lot; to-
gether with a 22 year old hoodlum
named Frank Alasica and a 33
year old WPA worker, Anthony
Circcincione; .was just ending up
a night-long spree of drink and
women that had taken them to
yeast},
Yin’
most of the notorious Harlem “hot
spots”, Circcincione, who was mar-
ried, left the party early and went
home to bed. Alasica also wanted to
go home early, for he too is mar- .
ried. Morgano and Mardavich how-
ever prevailed on him to cruise
around with them. This the trio did
until they spotted Maxwell and his |
pretty blonde companion leave the
El Morocco. The infamous trio fol-
lowed the advertising man until his |
car came to a halt. They waited a
-while and then got out. The plan
was to force Maxwell over in the
seat and drive him and Miss Cas-
sidy to a secluded spot and then
rob them. .
However, due to the fact that
Maxwell. put up resistance the
frightened and cowardly Mardavich
shot him. The trio then filed.
Three days after the arrest of
Mardavich Vincent Morgano and
Frank Alasica were picked up.
With them Anthony Circcincione
was taken into custody. The police
however refused to reveal’ what |
Circcincione’s connection with the
crime was, if any. He was held j
as a material witness however.
Both Morgano and Alasica were
held on charges of first degree
murder.
Thus in less than forty-eight
hours after the murder of Harry }
Maxwell the New York Police De-
partment had his killers in cus-
tody. This incredibly fast arrest
drew the plaudits of District At-
torney Thomas E. Dewey. He com-
plimented the detectives who had
broken the case and also a plaig , ; :
. Re on d
Feral vsoaed a vate hig pons Morris Mardavich sits in the waiting room of the East 22nd Street Police
Dewey’s words, “a case without Station. He was questioned in the death of Harry Maxwell.
clues”, The Guilford apartment house, in front of which Harry Maxwell was shot
to death while parked in his car with Mary Jane Cassidy.
sae Wa
= Tere cok Nah
\ pete E:- \es
ae eh ta ete
a a age eo 5
i rt Lemna se
Le aA
: oy BANS SM ix eat aeSS i BI.
ad sie Be {
key aba
“e it
mi
a
MARDAVICH, Morris, wh, elec. NY (NY) March 5, 1942
st
$3.24
~
a:
lie :
ee.
Coolness of Mary Jane
Cassidy, blond model,
left, helped trap a ban-
dit killer who struck at
dawn in New York
- City. She described the
slayer of her escort.
MURDER al
HEN a bandit’s gun recently blasted the life from Harry Miss Cassi
* Vance Maxwell, 41-year-old advertising executive, New at the doors
York City police acted with speed to solve the killing. sharp click,
Maxwell was shot to death as he sat in a car with Mary slumped dow
Jane Cassidy, 24, beautiful blond model, in front of her escort had ha
East 81st street home. The two had spent the evening vis- before realizi
iting friends in New Jersey and later at a fashionable night club. Miss Cassi
STARTLING DETECTIVE ADVENTU
STARTLING DETECTIVE, August, 1941
ws
Beautiful blonde Mary Jane Cassidy leaves police headquarters. Mary Jane’s story helped the police of New
York City to quickly apprehend the slayers of Harry Maxwell.
trons in the metropolitan areas are
out with someone else besides their
wife or husband. Strange as it may
seem this is the fact. Out of town
conventioners seldom bring their
wives to New York or other con-
vention cities with them. These
people do not, dare expose them-
selves to the embarrassment of
telling the details with names, etc.,
of their holdups to the police. Thus
most actual stickups of this type
are never reported.
The “Love-Larceny” bandits have
been having a hey-day in New York
City for years. Efficient police work
has been constantly thwarted by
the silence of the victims. How-
ever, when the New York author-
ities viewed the record of recent
night club stick-ups, in an effort
to get a line on the bandits who
so wantonly murdered Harry Max-
well, they came upon two cases
which took place only six weeks
previously, in which the victims
had the courage to come forth and
report the outrages.
On March 22, 1941, a Mrs. Spie-
gelberg, wife of a well-known stock
broker, was spending the evening
in a drive along Park Avenue, with
a Mr. Berlinger. They were tailed
by a pair of thieves. Berlinger pull-
ed his car over to the curb at
65th Street and Park Avenue to
wait for a red light presumably.
Two men jumped out of the tailing
car and commanded, “Put up your
hands, this is a holdup.” Late in
the evening and with no help in
sight Berlinger handed over $1300
in cash. After robbing him, the
thieves ordered Berlinger to drive
across the river to Long Island
which he did at the point of a
gun. In Astoria, Long Island, Mrs.
Spiegelberg and Berlinger were
dumped from the car into the
street and told to walk home. In-
stead, the sensible couple walked
to the nearest police station’ and
reported their case, and, although
the police were unable to solve
the crime, they at least had in-
formation which was later to prove
useful,
The other case was that of Har-
old Frazer, a real-estate operator
and his fiancee, Muriel Arnoff, who
were accosted at 7ist Street and
West End Avenue, New York City.
This time, the thieves not only took
all of their valuables but also re-
lieved Miss Arnoff of her fur coat!
The above, then, was the type
of crime which the police had to
work on in order to solve the mys-
terious homicide of Harry Vance
Maxwell. It must be noted that
Maxwell was heir to one of the
largest advertising fortunes in
America, his father R. C. Maxwell
being the founder of the firm of
the same name which owns bill-
boards along the highways covering
the entire United States. The son,
Harry, was well-known as a polo
player in Pinehurst, North Caro-
lina and Spring Lake, New Jersey.
He had been married and divorced
twice. In other words, he was the
perfect victim for this type of
holdup; well-known, wealthy, ob-
viously fond of women, wine and
song and sports. Hanging around
the outskirts of the gay night clubs,
it was only natural that the crim-
inals should soon learn enough
about his social: position and his
habits to realize that he would be
a good subject in their operations.
Thus, by his own behavior Maxwell
established himself as a natural
victim for these marauders. See-
ing Maxwell reel out of the bright-
ly lighted El Morocco in the com-
pany of an attractive blonde wom-
an, the criminals spotted him and
followed the same procedure which
they always followed in surprising
and robbing their helpless victims.
The problem confronting the
New York City police was an old
one but also a tough one. How were
they to apprehend the murderers
of Harry Maxwell? The door han-
dle of the car which he was driv-
ing and also the window ledge
were carefully dusted for finger-
prints. A survey of the neighbor-
hood was made in an effort to
find eye witnesses to the crime.
All was to no avail, however. The
criminal’s fingerprints on the car
were non-existent. Due to the late-
ness of the hour the street had
been deserted; there were no eye-
witnesses to the shooting. To make
matters worse Mary Jane Cassidy
could give the police only a very
sketchy description of the holdup
men. 4 3
There was one factor in favor
of the authorities however, and
that was that they were sure that
it was the “Love-Larceny” gang
who had committed the murder of
Harry Maxwell. The pattern of
the crime was similar to that em-
ployed in the Spiegelberg-Berlinger
and the Frazer-Arnoff holdups.
For months Commissioner Valen-
tine’s men had been working on
this gang. What is more, through
underground channels they had a
pretty good line on the men, so
good a line in fact that on Mon-
day morning a few hours after
Harry Maxwell had died at the
wheel of his car, officers went to
the home of one Morris Mardavich
and took him to police headquar-
ters for questioning. 4
Mardavich was a tough charac-
ter, he had been picked up during
the investigation of the Frazer case
and later released. The officers who
arrested him, Lieutenant Kiernan
and Detectives McGrath and Mc-
Donnell, had for months been
working on the identity of the
“Love-Larceny” gang.' They were
sure that Mardavich was one of
_the mob. The man had a long rec-
ness of Mary Jane
sidy, blond model,
_ helped trap a ban-
killer who struck at
m in New York
y. She described the
ver of her escort.
sted the life from Harry
ising executive, New
to solve the killing.
in a car: with Mary
rodel, in front of her
spent the evening vis-
a fashionable night club.
~ LING DETECTIVE
The body of Harry Maxwell,
wealthy advertising man, who
was slain in the holdup, is
shown being removed from the
death car by New York police.
Miss Cassidy told police that two bandits suddenly appeared
at the doors of the machine. Maxwell resisted and.she heard a
sharp click, as if the gun had misfired. The executive
slumped down and the gunman fled. Miss Cassidy, thinking her
escort had had a heart attack, drove him eight blocks to his home
before realizing he was dead.
Miss Cassidy gave police a detailed description of the slim,
ADVENTURES
Nabbed three hours after the shoot-
ing, Morris Mardavich, ex-con, arrow
above, confessed the murder. Later,
police arrested Frank Alascia, left,
below, and Vincent Margano and
charged them with being accomplices.
pock-marked killer and rogues’ gallery pictures were checked.
Within three hours, Morris Mardavic, 23, an ex-convict, was
identified by Miss Cassidy as the killer. Arrested at his homie,
police said he confessed shooting Maxwell because he resisted.
Police said Maxwell’s clothing muffled the sound of the shot.
A week later, police arrested Vincent Margano, 24, and Frank
Alascia, 22, on charges of being accomplices in the slaying.
: 31
58 HEADQUARTERS DETECTIVE
_ LET'S CHUCKLE AT LOVE
ote
rd
personal bookshelf.
‘Guaranteed to delight
or money back. Onl
$1.98, Post- Sf.
ageFree.
The Wittiest, Raci-
king
1.
lection of tasty tales, merry fin-
gies, drawings and art put together in one
volume.
Hl Please send THE BEDROOM COMPANION |
[J tenctese $1.98 . [] Send C.0. D., I'll 4
1 pay $1.98 & postage. i
: Mame City 1
| Addr State 1
ARDEN BOOK CO. Deot.t-E45 Astor Pl., N.Y. |
WHY WEAR
DIAMONDS
When diamond-dazzling Zircons
from the mines of far-away
Mystic Siam are 80 ective
and Inexpensive? Stand acid
cut glass, true backs, full of
FIRE, thrillin beauty, ex-
quisite mountings. mine
before you buy or sell. Cata-
logue FREE.
THE ZIRCON CO.
Dept. 2 Wheeling, W. Va.
«@ N i Baking
home study course in Bak-*
ing now Americs’s fifth ind’ in wages. Nearly’
s r business, field -
bitious men. Common school education oufhicient.
iad Sine” and requirements.
National Baking Institute
1315 Michigan Ave., Dept. 1632, Chicago, U.S.A.
“Facts about EPILEPSY”
This most interesting and-helpful Booklet -will be mailed to
anyone while the supply lasts. I will send a ‘free ‘copy to
anyone who writes for it. ©. M, SIMPSON.
Address Dept. H, 1840 W. 44th St., Cleveland, Ohio.
BE WELL,
STRONG, @=
YOUTHFUL -
Enjoy the vigor that comes from relievin Sepia
15 us minutes on Pendiculator ret pep lie full rainedon
| odes ped morgen ig, spsentais ane Sete ee et
Port REO Sio chester TweifthBidg.,Cleveland,O.|
ANY PHOTO ENLARGED
Size 8 x 10 Inches ,
er smaller if desired
Same price for full length h
or bust form, . land-
aeapes. pet animale. ete., C
or enlargements of sny
part of groun picture. Sato
return of
SEND NO MONEY J2,ret pret
h
(any size) and within s week you ‘will receive
iful enlar dd inde-
AT HOME—IN
YOUR SPARE TIME
VW,
earning $30, $50, $75 a week.
We train you step by step in
pe
COMMERCIAL ART "staan
Art before enrolling with W. 5S. A. YOU ha the
same mi Socwning an Artist. Our dies
pI has thousands in Art ‘since
racti me! Gh r
1914. Write for fails in FREE BOOK—‘‘Art for
‘and Profit.” State age. No obligation.
statement, Jones and Moran ‘returned
to the garage they had been watchin,
for days. There, as Morgano had tol
them,-they found Alascia at work. The
detectives, watching for a chance re-
turn of Morgano, had seen Alascia
several times but had no inkling he
was connected with the crime.
Alascia broke down immediately
and confessed his own pert in ‘the
holdup. He pointed out the car they
had used, a car borrowed from the
garage. The first number and letter
checked with the number and. letter
given to the police by Mary Jane Cas-
sidy.- ¢
Alascia also told of a fifth man who
-had witnessed the holdup. Before
the questioning of Alascia was com-
leted a detective was dispatched to
‘ort Devens, Mass., to bring in Alas-
cia’s friend, Private George Zares, as
a material witness. He had ridden’
about with Alascia and had dozed in
the back of the car while the holdup
and murder took plate. -
. At the trial Morgano, Alascia and
Mardavich agreed that Alascia had
met ‘them after the date uptown had
flopped. Alascia was in search of ex-
citement for his friend Zares, who was
in town on leave.
DETECTIVE
‘founded, was not of much present
material aid. We had nothing to go
on, and the type of people with whom
we expected ,to deal were not liable
to “spill” to the police. There were
scores of them in the district, tight-
mouths who were instantly suspicious
of inquisitive strangers and not given
to . gossi ping, even among em-
selves. ere was a large doubt in
my mind that. we could get one of
them to admit that he had known
| Wilson, unless we knew it for a fact
beforehand.
We interviewed the proprietors of
the rooming house in Seminole where
Wilson had stayed, with small results.
He had been a gr man, and they
knew nothing of him save that he
travelled for a music company. In
his room were the usual sales para-
phernalia—order blanks, an expense
account, and the like—but none of
them gave the slightest clue to his
murder. . ,
Obtaining the motor and license
number of Wilson’s car, we broadcast
them with a pickup request on the
machine. We likewise broadcast the
description of the phonograph, a
huge machine of expensive make,
asking that county and State authori-
ties be on the lookout. Meanwhile,
we began a quiet checkup on
known questionable characters in the
vicinity.
The coroner’s report had stated that
Wilson had been dead for eight ys
when found, placing the date of the
murder at y 17,. 1930. In more
than one instance we failed to learn
the whereabouts of possible suspects
at the time, hag in the cases of others
we were able to establish the facts
with certainty and thus eliminate
them from our list. The group re-
STUDIO 382A, WASHINGTON SCHOOL OF ART
1115-15th St. N. W. WASHINGTON, D. C.
maining was not a prepossessing one,
~
*
Gee org tery er
“Let’s get a gun and ge a job,”
Mardavich suggested. - testified
Morgano and ascia. -At another
point both Alascia and Morgano told
of warning Mardayjch not to use the
gun except to slug a troublesome vic-
fi
im,
All three told of seeing Maxwell
and Mary Jane in the parked car.
They watched for a few minutes, felt
‘certain that the couple would linger
for a while and drove around the
block before deciding who ‘would
“take the woman” while Mardavich
took the man. ;
Jane identified Morgano as
the~man who had squeezed into the
car beside her. She did not identify
Mardavich and it was only when the
‘ model’s testimony was finished that
Mardavich realized she had never
identified him.
A blue ribbon jury found all three
defendants guilty but recommended
leniency for Alascia and Morgano.
Mardavich was sentenced to die in
the chair. The other two received life
sentences. y
‘Cirrincione and Private Zares,
neither having any connection with
the holdup and murder, were released
promptly.
HEADQUARTERS Bona TS
I and the DIRGE OF DEATH
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 4I
but nowhere could we find one who
would admit having known Wilson.
suggest that we start a farm-to-farm
campaign and see what we can find
out. e oe at least have dropped
some remark that will give us a
lead.”
For several days we concentrated
on this plan and not without succéss,
for we were able to fairly well follow
his movements from day to day. At
many of the more prosperous farms
he had given demonstrations, -
though in few instances, had he placed
one of the high priced machines.
Daily he was to be seen, driving along
the road with the phonograph in the
ickup box, on the back of the Ford.
e was always alone. At some homes,
where a- prospective customer ap-
peared interested, he would leave the
machine for a day’s “tryout” and re-
turn the following evening to pick it
up and get a os ee order, if a sale
had been made. These demon-
strations had been noted carefully on
his inventory sheets.
- CHECK of Wilson’s unfiled re-
ports to his company revealed that
48 hours before he disappeared he
had left the phonograph at the home
of an Indian farmer, for ttial. No
note of completion of the transaction
had been made. Grall and I visited
the farmer’s home, only to learn that
Wilson had returned within a few
hours to pick up the machine with the
“explanation that he knew where he
could get a sale if he could make
a demonstration that evening.
We were
was |
point
to shi
taken. it
portant tha
the demons'
and what |
of the mact
been carrie
customer h:
the day of '
possibly th
alive.
_ The very
ing the out
had been rm
portions. |!
pany report
obviously t!
made on th
stration or
last contact
might easil:
to make his
on a call f
return—anc
might also
om Ha)
scription
routine ch«
was institu
killer migh
to dispose «
either the
would have
former we
easily notic
On the m
boy called
his name, s
farm. =“T
began ang
M. Wilson
to attentio
of paper.
no good!”
boy asked,
collecting }
“How do
I queried.
“It was
it was dat
check on t
I noticed
the 15th.”
“Are yo
when he
demanded.
“Sure.
day and I
present ou
check was
{ was
“Mr. Wilsc
he? Abo
The boy
have seen
isn’t an <
chunky a
“This m
—had you
“Sure.
fields som
and I co
_I made
signatures
and the «
was not t
a r pains 43
66 HEADQUARTERS ‘DETECTIVE
PICTU RE
RING
Rush Your Favorite
Photo or Snapshot
SEND NO MONEY!
me ° picture or snapshot y
Seen! on ex site “Onyx
ture keeps clear as sharp ior Yours
sa
weathe! r—will not tarnish, : —
loved one
na baaeelton setting. MAKE MONEY:
x @
bhote with strip of * trimmed se ends meet
round finger for size. vith in 8c ean.
fem con cents Bap eer Photo returned Roe
oney-back yuarantee
mcTaRE RING CO. sae
and BRONCHITIS
Medicine, .Write to-
ae for free infor-
mation and special
money back offer.
W. K.. STERLINE, 880 Ohio Avenue, Sidney, Ohio
CASH FOR UNUSED STAMPS
U. 8. unused bys C075 at 90% face value for de-
meg ee to ‘Se. face value for denominations
Soc. *Small quantiies 85 face value, MAIL
staAmPs REGISTERED, MONEY SENT BY RETURN th.
GARBER SERVICE
72 Sth Avenue, Dept. 1902
New York City
(SIDELINE Salesmen and Agents)
goth our Illuatrated Comic Booklets, and oth:
or 100 a:
| ie 3 galy. No C.O0.D. ordera, %
Sears” Po y-' jer. ia a Sales Co., 1 West 1
WRITERS:
SONG POEM $e! ernst
tree pot Home, Love, Sacred,
atriotic. Comic or any sub-
ject, for our plan and FREE Pts mo Dictionary at once.
RICHARD BROS., 155 Weods Building, Chicago, Iilinols
SOCIAL
Correspondence Club
EXPERIENCE the thrill of «
romance thru this select club! Introductions-by-let-
ter. This club is conducted to help lonely, refined
men and women find compatible friends. Discreet,
confidential service... Nationwide membership.
Established 1922 ... Sealed particulars FREE.
EVAN MOORE, Box 988, Jacksonville, Florida
SEL SHOE
thy
Saat len Bie
substitutes Liberal supp’ only sr’ ( “CoD. $1. mtu
Shipped ir in‘plain wo ‘wrapper Full directions. Money back
VIGERAL (Mie onset 507 Fifth Avenue t.T,M.¥.C.
Pony! oe our modern labora-
ur mouth impres-
sion. Sa faction or money
SAVE MONEY—ORDER B
MAIL. Write TODAY for fall
particulars, FREE impression
material and illustrated “fold.
er ng our many styles o
dental plates. tin
MARVEL DENTAL Co.
Pee] as, cee SL. cmiecse
_ Eben and Maxwell had been friends
for some years, since both Maxwell's
former wives, Gail Morrison Maxwell
and Caroline Sellers Maxwell, were
well known as tournament golfers.
Eben ‘had written many stories. about
both Maxwell’s wives.
“I gathered he didn’t know the
Cassidy girl very well,” Eben told re-
porters. “They stayed at my place
for a few drinks and left after a
couple of hours.”
At the fashionable El “Morocco,
waiters remembered seeing the pair
there from about eleven Saturday ~
night until close to four in the morn-
in
&. Cc. py ma president of the huge
advertising firm, arrived at the sta-
tion: house as Mary Jane finished her
story: The dead man’s father had
never met Mary Jane.
“My son put in regular hours at the
office where he was a vice-president,”
Mr. Maxwell said. “He had no heart
trouble that I knew of.”
No one had witnessed. the holdup.
There were no signs of violence in
Maxwell’s death, no bruise indicating
that the holdup man had struck him.
No one had heard a shot. Mary Jane
herself heard, she’ said, only. a noise ,
like a “ca pistol, ”’and there was no
sign of b ood or a bullet wound on
the man’s face or clothing.
Tired out by the night o. horror and
the ordeal of questioning, Mary Jane
was put to bed at the station house
in the care of a policewoman.
While the Ladle slept, Medical Exam-
iner Benjamin M Vance arrived at
Bellevue Hospital where Maxwell’s
body. had: been taken.
Vance’s examination disclosed that
Maxwell had not died of a heart at-
tack. One minute bullet hole was
found in the man’s chest. Since there
was almost no external bleeding even
the dead man’s undershirt was hardly
stained with blood, and the tiny hole
the bullet had made in his jacket had
gone unnoticed in the cursory exam-
ination made by the ambulance sur-
geon. The ambulance surgeon’s job
ly merely to pronounce Maxwell
ea
The single bullet had entered the
left chest, penetrated the -left lung,
heart and right lung, lodging finally
in the right chest. /The bullet, the
cag owed, had been fired at
close range and Maxwell had
dic within a few minutes in the
arms of Mary Jane Cassidy.
In Maxwell’s ation $106 in cash
was found.
ETECTIVES Jones, Moran and
Watkins of the 19th Detective
Squad, and Murphy of the Man-
hattan Homicide uad conferred
immediately following the autopsy.
Now they were dealing with a murder
and not. an accidental death corollary
to a holdup.
They were dealing with another of
the notorious “tail light” gangs, whose
stickup jobs in robbing parked
couples netted them fat proceeds.
In the six weeks just before Max-
well’s murder several tail light jobs
had been pulled in the midtown sec-
tion, both east and west. On March
22nd, Mrs. William I. 5 ot
Frederick Berlinger were kidnaped
Park Avenue and 65th Street —
after bres left a night: club. They
were robbed of $1,300 in jewels and
cash and finally dumped in Astoria.
On April 6, Harold amen a real
estate operator, and his fiancee, Muriel
Arnoff, were kidnaped from “71st
ome his, tag REA ea ee
Street and West End Avenue-in Fra-
zer’s-car. The tail light bandits took
all-their cash, Miss Arnoff’s rings and
‘her fur coat. In both cases the cars
were later found abandoned.
‘There had been other’ Similar cases.
But there had been no identification
of the holdup men.
Mary Jane had hardly seen the
man from whose direction came the
small sound made by the murder. gun.
She had described the man on her side
of the-car but her description did.not
tally with any suspected tail light
gunmen detectives had ever brought
in- for questioning.
She was awakened from her brief
slumber and questioned again in more
‘detail about the stickup men.
“Can you remember anything about
the man who was next to Maxwell?
Did you see him at all?”
Somewhat refreshed now, Mary
Jane wrinkled her pretty brow.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “He was pock
marked—at least I think they were
pock marks. And he was pretty dark.’
I did see his clothes as he ran back
to their car. He wore a blue suit and
a white shirt.”
“Anything else?”
_ Mary Jane shook her head.
Outside, Jones and Moran “hurried
downstairs without a word. Each
knew what the other was thinking.
They got into a car and drove quickly
downtown to the lower East Side
where slums line the streets.
Jones and Moran climbed the steep
flights of stairs at 616 East 6th Street.
‘Morris home?” they asked an old
woman who answered their knock.
The woman shook her head. The
men showed their badges.
“Sure he was here,” she said. “He
went out, but he’ll be back.”
“You know where he went? He
‘take anything with him?”
“Oh, no, he’ll come back. Morris is
a good boy now. He’s much better.
. Sit, please. Just wait.”
It wasn’t a long wait. Morris Mar-
davich, a husky young man of 23
whose police record began when, he
was 14, burst into the kitchen of his
home. ‘The eyes of the two detectives
sought his face—which was deeply
pitted with acne scars. Mardavich
recognized them at once.
“Don’t you guys ever leave me
alone?” he said.
“Well, Morris you could try leaving .
the parked cars alone.”
Morris sneered. “What is it now?”
where were you last night, Mor-
ris?’
“Had a date with a coupla fellows.
It fizzled, so I come downtown again,
had a few beers, hung around the cor-
ner and went to bed.”
Jones made a quick note of Marda-
vich’s clothing: brown suit, blue shirt,
dark * tie, brown shoes. Mary Jane’s °
description was’ of a man wearing a
blue suit and white shirt. But the
‘“pock- marks” and Mardavich’s acne
scars were too similar to pass up. The
pesete could easily have been
ar since early in the morning.
eren’t around East 8lst Street
early today, were you?”
Mardavich grinned. *T don’t hafta
answer questions,” he said, “but I
don’t mind tellin’ you. I was in a bar
on Second Avenue near 72nd Street.
Is-that-a crime?”
“No, no, that’s no crime,” Jones
said slowly. “But 81st Street between
Lexington and Third Avenues early
ea pootning—that " is a crime—mur-
er
Mardavich’~
a sullen ‘whir
“What are
If you got s_
If you ain’t wh:
here for?”
Jones and M
wasn’t much of
knew Mardavi
suspected he \
series of tail li;
this was murde
“Come on ur
tectives ordere:
talk to you.
wear those clo
night?”
“Yeah, this }
“Just tell us
and we can ch:
Mardavich bec
“I. don’t haf
he repeated.
FTER Mary
davich she
her blonde
“T couldn’t sz
said. “I can’t b:
the one who sa’
that one anywl
Mardavich r
further questic
let him catch a
He had no wa
or not she had
Mardavich ha
must have seen
Jane.
Mardavich w
alone for a
whether or not
a positive iden
After a whil
anything to sa:
_ He shook hi:
dark scarred s!
pallor. Marda:
tectives were *
He had been
fore, but th
robbed and ....
tify him. But
“Think it o
“Just let us kn
talk.”
The next ti
dropped in to -
longer unwilli:
still sullen bu
mounting. His
“T got nothir
was weary,
“Maybe you
voice was smoc
you only wante
the gun went
". that it, Morris?
happened?”
“You don’t e.
Mardavich whi)
picked me up c
eouldn’t pin no
you got nothin;
The detectiv:
changed.
“We've got t
We know you
two of your p
_ exactly wh
ow. The gir
This last ha
Mardavich. It v
he feared mos
silent.
The detective
“Okay,” he
m an accide
say so there’s
todo. This is t)
ing you.”
54 ss HEADQUARTERS DETECTIVE
PAYS UP TO
$325.00
HOSPITAL AND
is SURGICAL FEES
ti Learn how Hospital and
need hospital-| Surgical care is provided
ization. Only! for every member of your
you act now, family in case of sickness or
accident. Plan permits you
to go to any hospital in .
the U. S.; select your
own surgeon. Write
Today!
NO MEDICAL EXAMINATION REQUIRED
INTERSTATE MUTUAL BENEFIT ASS'N.
Dept. 502, DOVER, DELAWARE
Please send me FREE full details concerning your
Hospitalization Policy.
City... " Btate......cecce-
DETECT!
TRAINING — SECRET INVESTIGATIONS — FINGER
PRINTS—Easy Method—Short Time. By Former Gov't
Detective—Rewards. Home—Travel—Secret . Code-Book-
po YOU
*™N WANT TO
Banish the craving for tobacco as
tho have. Make yourself free
and happy with Tobacco Redeemer.
Nota not habit formi
‘Write for free booklet telling of in-
jurious effect of tob
and of a treatment which | FREE
has relieved many men.
THE NEWELL company [00K
106 Clayton Sta., St. Louis, Mo,
LOVE REVEALED |
127 pages of vital, most intimate information |
that you must know to get the most out of
- love, life, marriage. Plainly told in our two
amazing booklets, . “Man’s Love
Life’ and “Womanhood.” With c
a ahaa list for adults only.
or
NATIONAL BOOKSELLERS |
owosso, MICH.
PRETTY GIRLS
Photographs—Books—Novelties
: Big Assortment—$1.00
Catalog 10c
R. D. BRAUN
353 West 47th St., Chicago, Ill.
WOMEN!
CHUMANIE'S PERIOD MEDICINE
a .."Triple XXX," $2.00
DEPT. ti
f
As 1 3 boxes $5—No C.O.D.'s
SoD Chumanie Medicine Co.
H. P. S., New Richmond, Ohio
pes Thru our PERSON-:
= AL SERVICE dedi-
cated to the pro-
motion of friend-
ships. Discriminat-
ing clientele, all
religious faiths. -
el Write or telephone
&, Ss Grace Bowes.
AMERICAN SERVICE
236-HP West 70th St., New York City, N.Y.:
Telephone ENdicott 2-4680
‘. It was almost dark before the John-
sons returned but the officers were
waiting for them. The Johnsons had
been visiting, they said. ‘They denied
owning a .22 rifle and though the offi-
cers searched they could not find one
in the house. Des
Nevertheless, the three Johnsons
—John, Bill and Bill Jr., were loaded
into the sheriff’s car andthe officers
headed back to Huntsville. In jail,
the Johnsons, beyond stating that yes
‘knew nothing, refused to talk.
none of them was wearing a shoe that
fit the mold.
Sheriff Berry said to his deputies,
‘“These fellows—or one of them—
killed Ep Hooper. The motive is a
little obscure, but I’m going to find
what it is.”
He removed Bill Johnson to the
Washington County, Ark., jail. Bill
Jr., was released. John was held in
Huntsville. In the far distant coun-
ties the: two suspects were questioned
day after day. They met the ques-
tions in sullen silence.
EANTIME, the movements of
Young Bill were watched and from
time to time the deputies made
other searches of the Johnson prem-
| jses. On the tenth day the gun was
found in a hay mow.
“Pye got you now, Bill,” Berry told
Johnson and ordered test shots made
and sent to Washington. A report
wasn't long in coming back. This was
the murder gun. :
Again the sheriff and his deputies
went to work on the Johnsons. They ©
got only scowls for their questions.
Finally Sheriff Berry pla ed his trump
card. He played on the oyalty of any
hill man for his family. He tried it
on John Johnson first.
“John,” he said, “I hate to send you
and Bill both: over the road; but I
can do it and I will. Then your wo-
men will have a hard time of it—
probably be on the county. Now only
one of you pulled the trigger of that
‘gun. Which one of you was it? You
Maxwell had been living the easy life
of a rich young man about town.
He was known in the exclusive night
spots of the fashionable East Side, and
had been seen at times with the lovely
young model at several of the clubs.
Jones and Moran scrapped the
record of the rich playboy and re-
turned to Mary Jane. -
“How long had you known Max-
well?” they asked.
“About seven’ months. :
“And before you parked in front of
your home, where had you and Max-
well been? -What did you do?”
Mary Jane’s composure grew as she
tqld invdetail of her day with Max-
well, of the round of partying and
cocktails that led to the tragic climax
in the parked car. ;
At about noon Saturday, the girl
said, another friend of hers, Fielding
td Seo
: Robinson, sales executive of the -Cros-
ley Distributing Corp., left for a
weekend in the country. Before go-
ing he gave her the keys to his car.
can tell me that or both of ‘you are
going to stand trial for murder this
week.”
John Johnson was silent a_long-
minute. Finally he said, “Mr. Berry,
I reckon Bill shot Ep, but I didn’t see
him do it. He left us ahd a little later
I saw him cutting across the corner
of the field with a gun. I knew he was
mad because Isom had married Martha
so I thought he was going to the
Hoopers. caught up with him and
tried to get him to come back but
he wouldn’t. I turned around: and°
<went back to cutting posts. That’s all
I know.” And that’s all he would say.
- In Fayetteville, Bill was confronted
with John’s story but refused to talk
until Berry convinced him fhat both
of them would be tried. He confessed
then. “I. didn’t intend to kill Ep, just
cripple him and let him know who.
done it,” he said. “I figured when
Isom knew I shot his pa he’d turn
agin ,Martha and throw her out.
She’d come home to us. I knew she
would stick to her family.”
Because the countryside was badly
aroused, a special term of court was
called. On January 3, 1938, Bill John-
son went before Judge John 8S. Combs
and pleaded guilty to manslaughter.
Murder had not been his intention, he
claimed, and the Court believed him.
He was given the minimum peniten-
tiary sentence. John Johnson was
released: Larkin was, of course, never
charged.
The purpose of Bill Johnson’s shot
failed, for Martha and Isom are still
married. The younger generation is
. growing away from wthe code of the
hills. But the older hill people, friends
and neighbors of Ep Hooper, wait im-
patiently for Johnson’s sentence to ex-
pire. The law had it’s chance and,
they say, didn’t do its job. If Bill
Johnson returns to his Ozark home,
he very likely will pay as men have
paid there since the first settler came.
Nore: The name Larkin is fictitious
to avoid embarrassing an innocent
person.
TAIL LIGHT TERROR —
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 31.
Mary Jane used the car to keep a
date with Maxwell, whom she ha
been seeing frequently, she said, since
their meeting seven months before.
In the borrowed car the two drove to
Newark, New Jersey, where they
spent the afternoon at the home of
Maxwell’s sister, Mrs. R. E. Klein-
hans, 582 Parker Street. Leaving there
at 8:30 the couple drove to pring-
field, New Jersey, and visited James.
Eben, sports weiter for the Newark
Evening News.
From Eben’s home they returned to
New York and went to El Morocco,
upper crust hot spot, where they ate
and drank for several hours.
“We left there some time after
four,” Mary Jane’s story finished, ‘and
drove straight to my home. We parked
there for about half an hour. Harty
had just kissed me good night and my
head was on his shoulder when the
men got in the car with us.”
Telephone calls and a few trips
quickly confirmed Mary Jane’s story.
*Actual pupii
Didn't D
“VT DIDN'T .
teacher. .
can imagine
could play r:
believe that ]
rson who
elp but lear
FOUND AC
“T’ve always ©
iano accordi
rom Canada.
never learn it.
your lessons.
to express m)
ay
ie-in Fra-
adits took
rings and
: the cars
ilar cases.
ntification
seen the
came the
urder. gun.
on her side
yn did not
tail light
r brought
her brief
in in more
mn,
hing about
Maxwell?
ow, Mary
row.
» was pock
they were
retty dark.
> ran back
ue suit and
ad.
an hurried
ord. Each
s thinking.
quickly
st Side
a uie steep
6th Street.
ked an old
r knock.
head. The
helt
went? He
. Morris is
iuch_ better.
Aorris Mar-
man of 23
in when. he
chen of his
o detectives
was deeply
Mardavich
leave me
try leaving
is it now?”
night, Mor-
ipla fellows.
itown again,
und the cor-
e of Marda-
t, blue shirt,
.
Mary Jane’s °
a wearing a
rt. But the
avich’s acne
pass up. The
have been
he morning.
81st Street
{ don’t hafta
said, “but I
3 in a bar
id Street.
une,” Jones
reet between
venues early
‘ crime—mur-
ne
Mardavich’s brashness changed to
a sullen ‘whine. ’
“What are. you guys talking about?
If you got something on me, say so.
If you ain’t what did you come around
here for?” =’
Jones and Moran took a chance. It -
wasn’t much of a chance because they
knew Mardavich’s record and they
suspected he was guilty of a whole
series of tail light robberies. Besides,
this was murder.
“Come on uptown, Morris,” the de-
tectives ordered. “Someone wants to
talk to you. By the, way, did you
wear those clothes on your date last
night?” eh
“Yeah, this is the suit I wore.”
“Just tell us the bar you were in
and we can check that easy enough.”
Mardavich became silent.
“I don’t hafta answer questions,”
he repeated.
davich she hesitated, then shook
her blonde head.
“TI couldn’t say that’s the man,” she
said. “I can’t be sure. I know he isn’t
the one who sat next to me. I'd know
that one anywhere.”
Mardavich refused to answer any
further questions. Jones and Moran
let him catch a ay om of Mary Jane.
He had no way of knowing whether
or not she had identified him, but if
Meavic Mary Jane had viewed Mar-
Mardavich had killed Maxwell he.
—— have seen and remembered Mary
ane. ‘
Mardavich was then left completely
alone for a few hours to ponder
whether or not Mary Jane had made
a positive identification.
After a while he was visited. “Got
anything to say, Morris?”
He shook his head, but under. the
dark scarred skin there was a sickly
pallor. Mardavich knew that the de-
tectives were familiar with his record.
He had been brought in six weeks be-
fore, but the couple who had been
robbed and kidnaped failed to iden-
tify him. But had Mary Jane?
“Think it over,” Jones told him.
“J ag let us know when you want to
ta. eal
The next time Jones and Moran
dropped in to visit Morris. he was no
longer unwilling to listen. He was
still sullen but his nervousness was
mounting. His shoulders sagged.
“IT got nothing to say.” His voice
was weary.
“Maybe you haven't,” a detective’s
voice was smooth in his ears. “Maybe
you only wanted, to frighten him and
the gun went off by accident. Was
that it; Morris? Was that the way it
happened?”
“You don’t even know I was there,”
Mardavich whined. “Just because you
picked me up once on a car job—you.s , “I’m Morgano, all right,” declared
couldn’t pin nothing on me then and
you got nothing on me now.”
The detective sat back. His voice
changed.
“We've got this much, Mardavich.
We know you were on this job with
two of your pals. You can tell us
just exactly wheat you want to but we
ow. The girl identified you.”
This last had a visible effect on
Mardavich. It-was obviously the thing
he feared most. But he still kept
silent. :
The detective stood up. ‘
“Okay,” he said. “It might have
been an accident, but if you wont
say so there’s only one thing for us
to do. This is the last time I'll be tell-
ing you.” a
eittes Meat imenr re rrercetemin SoM os
‘py toy Re oy iy cod ha rics PME
_ HEADQUARTERS DETE
i. + bes + pp > Mel (i OR? 8 een Lp * 26 hte ry
0, ia ti a ETE RT a nc ee
ich ~ el om OT a $4,
~
-
A
What he did not tell Mardavich was
that a killing in, the commission of
a felony ‘automatically cl, a
charge of first degree murder. ar-
davich: wilted.
“Wait,” he said. “It. was like you
said—it was an‘ accident. The gun
went off in my hand by accident.’
‘ In a fuller confession which he
signed. later that night Mardavich
named his companions in the murder.
Early Saturday night he had met An-
thony Cirrincione, a laborer, of 405
East Fifth Street, and: made a date
to meet two girls at a bar on Second
Avenue near 72nd. Stréet. «Vincent
- “Timmy”. Morgano, a garage worker
‘ of 531. East 13th Street, accompanied
Mardavich and Cirrincione on the
date, which proved ‘a fizzle. Later
Mardavich said, he and-Morgano met
a friend with a car who drove them
‘to the scene of the holdup. é
Detectives found Cirrincione at his
home Monday morning. Cirrincione
was held as a material witness and
- was willing to talk.
But Timmy Morgano was not to be
found. His grandmother told Detec-
tive Watkins that Timmy had rushed
in early Sunday morning, changed
his clothes and left taking some ex-
tra clothes with him. A watch was
set on Morgano’s home and on the
garage where he worked.
Meanwhile, Cirrincione was telling
his story to Attorney Jack Rosen-:
blum, assistant district attorney head--
ing the Homicide Bureau. Cirrincione
-had had no part in the _ holdup,
having left Mardavich and the miss--
ing Morgano when the two girls
turned thumbs down on Mardavich
because of his acne-scarred face.
When Cirriricione had made a com-
plete statement the news of his arrest
was published. No details of his story
were given out, and thé name of the
missing Morgano was not mentioned.
But the search for him continued.
Just 24 hours after news of Cirrin-
‘ cione’s arrest ‘was released, a nervous
young fellow appeared at: seven
o’clock in the morning at the district
attorney’s office in downtown Man-
hattan.
“Mr. Rosenblum in?” the nervous
chap asked the agg guard.
“Not this early.. He’ll be in around
nine.” | ~ :
“Guess I'll go. get some coffee and
hang around,” -the young man said.
Ten minutes later a detective at-
tached to the district attorney’s office
saw the.nervous youngster in a coffee
i around the corner, took one good
ae and snapped the handcuffs on
“You got a lot of crust, Morgano,”
said the.detective, “‘coming this close
to the D..A.’s office.”
the young man: “I came in to clear
myself in that: Maxwell murder.’
ETECTIVES who had been watch-
D ing Morgano’s home _ hurried
' downtown to hear his story. Mor-
gano told of hitchhiking to Pennsyl- .
vania where he picked up odd jobs
slept anywhere to keep going ‘and
keep out of New York. When he read
of Cirrincione’s arrest, he said, he
was certain that his: name would be
revealed.
Morgano told of another’ youth,
Frank Alascia, 22; of 332 East 12th
Street, who had driven the car used
by the gang to cruise about in search
of a likely couple to rob. .
While Morgano was completing his
CTIVE
How to Make
YOUR Body
Bring You
SPAME-—
ae ube
wo Instead of SHAME
Will You Let fae
Me Prove | Can Wy
Make You a
New
I KNOW what it means to
have a body that people
ity! I was once a skinny,
‘I-Ib, Ww — su a
poor spec imen that I was
tly 4
self.
embarrassed. . But later I.
discovered the secret that
turned me into the holder
of the title, ‘“‘The World’s
Most Periecry Developed
Man.”’ I'd like to prove
that the same system can
make a NEW MAN of
you!
ONLY 15 MINUTES
A DAY
No “ifs,” “‘ands’’ or
“maybes.’’ Just tell me
where you want hand-
some powerful muscles.
Are you fat and flabby?
Or skinny and gawky?
Are you short-winded,
peviesst Do you hold
Cheasles
lili
This actual snapshot
taken at the beach
shows how I look to-
day.
Mail Coupon
Now for
FREE Book
our spare
ime daily is enough to show amazing results—and it’s
actually fun. ‘‘Dynamic Tension’’ does the work.
FREE BOOK “Everlasting Health
and Strength"
It costs only a stamp—or a postcard
—to mail coupon below. I'll send my
new, free book, ‘‘Everlastin) Health
and Strength.”’ It tells about my
“Dynamic Tension’’ method; shows,
"§ from actual photos, how I have de-
t Cres about
a my 7-DAY IAL O !
9 ee eee ee
Stes , CHARLES ATLAS, Dept. 223P
115 East 23rd Street, New York, N. Y.
I want the proof that ‘Dynamic Tension’’ will help
make a new man of me—give me a healthy, husky body and:
big muscle development. Send me your free book, ‘‘Ever-
lasting Health and Strength.’’
' Name.
(Please print or write plainly)
City. State.
i's vemark had its desived effect, His
words evidently jogged Coffey’s mem-
ory, for soon after he directed diggera
to several different locations, In a
short time the workers began uncover-
ing various portions of the woman's
body, first the torso, then portions of
the limbs, finally the head. All had
been wrapped in newspapers.
That night, in a Platteville morgue,
an autopsy on the severed head of the
badly decomposed body revealed that
Hattie Hales had died as a result of a
terrific beating, several portions of her
skull having been driven into the
brain. In the light of this evidence
Coffey made a final confession, one
which is without doubt closest to the
truth.
“About October first we started in
my car for a tour around the State,”
he confessed. “We camped: in various
wooded spots and finally stopped at
Eagle Point Park, just outside of
Dubuque, Iowa, on October eighth. We
drove into Wisconsin over the Eagle
Point bridge. We then drove along
Route 11 and about four miles from
the river we drove up into a little
lane, ale some sandwiches we had with
us und sang a few hymns.
“Then we drove to Ritter’s Woods
southwest: of Platteville and pitched
our tent, Shortly after midnight I
woke up and crept on my hands and
knees over to the cot where Hattie
was sleeping. I Fes up an indoor
baseball bat and struck her on the
head. She didn’t even move. I pulled
the blanket up over her head and then
I lost control of myself. I picked up a
hammer we used to drive stakes and
struck her I don’t know how many
blows. I kept this up until I was tired
and I was sure she was dead. Then I
cut her up and buried the various
pieces.”
Asked why he had committed his
ghoulish crime Coffey replied: “I didn’t
want my wife in Madison to find out
about Hattie. Besides, I had everything
she owned.”
Coffey was lodged in the Grant
County jail at Lancaster. The con-
fessed slayer appeared unmoved as
he was locked in his cell immediately
following hie retien from the seone of
his terrible crime.
The dissected remaing of Hattie
Halen were claimed by her broken-
hearted sister, Mrs. Anna Holdridge.
The Friday following they were buried
at Elroy. Hundreds of the unfortunate
woman’s home folk, people who knew
her as a child and later as the wife of
George Hales, her popular engineer
husband, signed a lengthy statement
expressing belief that Mrs. Hales did
not know the man she married was a
married man with a wife and children.
On Saturday, February 5, William
Coffey faced Circuit Judge Sherman
E, Smalley in Grant County’s ornate
courthouse at Lancaster. The prisoner
appeared ill at ease in the crowded
chamber and it was evident he was
fearful of the distinctly belligerent
attitude of the onlookers. His anxiety
to hurry proceedings as much as pos-
sible before the crowd became too
aroused was reflected in his nervous
manner and his eagerness to enter a
plea of guilty, Speaking in a low
volvo, the prisoner could not be heard
a dozen paces from the Judge’s bench.
Coffey did not flinch as the Judge
pronounced the sentence, “1 sentence
you to life imprisonment at hard labor
at the State Prison at Waupun, the
sentence to start at twelve o'clock to-
day.” .
Coffey’s eyes were downcast as he
was led from the court chamber, after
his five-minute trial, between District
Attorney D. A. Orchard and Sheriff
Bert Morse. Pressed for a statement
he said: “I have nothing to say.”
William Coffey still remains behind
the walls of Wisconsin’s penitentiary
at Waupun. He has been a model pris-
oner, but this has not dimmed the
memories of his atrocious crime, a fact
demonstrated in January, 1938, when
his plea for parole met with a curt
refusal.
Further pictures with this story may
be found on Pages 43, 45, 49, 50 and 52.
Who Hacked These Women into Little Pieces? (Continued from Page 15)
were boarded and across the door was
plastered a sign, reading: “For Rent.”
Inquiry at the neighboring houses
yielded the information that no one
had lived there for two years! Who
then was the mysterious Miss Brown-
ell who would be addressed at that
number? -
“Wait a minute,” said the house-
holder who volunteered the informa-
tion regarding the occupancy of the
place. “Miss Brownell used to be a
roomer there. People by the name of
Bennett owned the house. They’ve
moved about a bit, but I think they
are over on Berkeley Place now. Per-
ae they can tell you more about
er.”
At the corner Captain Bishop con-
sulted a telephone book, saw a listing
for Alfred Bennett at No. 103 Berkeley
Place. This was only a few blocks
distant—on the other side of Grand
Army Plaza, and there the officers
hastened. In common with the other
houses of the district, No. 103 Berkeley
Place proved to be of the brownstone
type. The officers ascended the steps,
rang the bell. A moment later the
door was opened expectantly by a
gray-haired man, whose face fell when
he saw the police.
“Mr. Bennett?” inquired Captain
Bishop.
The man nodded. “Yes—what is the
trouble?”
“Nothing that we know of yet,” said
the Captain. “We're trying to get some
information about a Miss Brownell.
We understand that she used to live
with you.” -
“That’s right,” said Bennett. “She
lived with us at Sterling Place, and at
28 Prospect Place. We sold that house
to her and she turned it into a room-
ing-house.” Bennett looked at the offi-
cers curiously. “Funny,” he said,
‘that | you should come here at this
time.”
CAPTAIN BISHOP raised an inquir-
ing eyebrow.
“I was going to pay you a visit my-
self,” explained Bennett. “My wife is
missing!”
“What's that you're saying?”
snapped the Captain. A_ horrible
thought had crossed his mind.
Bennett nodded. “I thought that it
might be her when you rang. I can’t
imagine what would make her stay
away from home.”
“When did you last see her?” asked
the Captain.
“At five yesterday afternoon. She
went over to the house at Prospect
Place becayse they were having some
drainage trouble there and the place
was flooded.”
“Five o’clock,” mused the Captain,
relieved. He knew that would elimi-
nate Mrs. Bennett as the axe victim,
for the first.parts of the body had been
discovered fifteen hours before she had
left home.
But what if there were two victims
and the parts discovered later were
42
not the same as the first? It was pos-
sible. Captain Bishop felt an invol-
untary chill go through him.
“Get your hat,” he said to Bennett.
“We're going over to Prospect Place.”
While the man made himself ready,
Captain Bishop telephoned Headquar-
ters and informed Inspector Sullivan
of the’ new developments.
“You may be on the right track,”
said Sullivan. “Everything seems to
center around that neighborhood. Let
me hear from you as soon as you find
anything.”
The officers set out with Bennett and
soon drew up before a third brown-
stone structure. Like the others, this
had a high stoop and an iron railing in
front.’ It was three stories high and
the top was crowned by a shingled
gable, ‘
The party ascended the steps and
Captain Bishop rang the bell. They
could hear a tinkle in the distance,
then a long ‘silence. Captain Bishop
rang again, and finally someone ap-
proached the door.
When it opened, Bennett recognized
the caretaker, Ludwig Lee.
“Hello,” he said. “Have you seen
Mrs. Bennett?”
Lee scratched his head. “I seen her
last night. She look at the cellar and
then go away. I don’t see her since.”
Bennett clucked his lips. “That’s
strange. _I wonder where she could
have gone.”
Captain Bishop then flashed his
shield. . “We’re making ,a little inves-
tigation,” he said. “Perhaps you could
tell-us where Miss Brownell is.”
“Sure,” said the caretaker. “She
went away to the country for the
Fourth of July.”
As they stood talking on the steps,
Captain Bishop was undecided whether
to enter the house or not. But as he
came closer to the door, the lines about
his mouth tensed.
He noticed a peculiar odor—a musty
smell—that caused the small hairs on
the nape of his neck to rise. Those
strange brown bundles had had the
same odor!
The Captain stepped inside.
“Who else is here?” he asked Lee.
The caretaker looked at him won-
deringly. .
“Why, Chris Jensen is upstairs with
his friend Otto Nielsen.”
Captain Bishop turned to Detective
William Jordan.
“Get them down here and then
we’ll search the place.” .
Jordan went upstairs and the Cap-
tain went into the front rooms. The
odor in the air that he had encoun-
tered at the morgue earlier in the day
when the fragments were brought in
was stronger now. Was there any‘con-
nection, he wondered, or was the
faulty drainage responsible?
He looked around, saw that all of
the furniture was neatly arranged.
There was nothing to arouse his sus-
picions except the strange odor. Puz-
zled, he went to the hall, traced the
smell to the kitchen. Here, too, every-
thing seemed in order, but beneath the
sink lay a towel.
When he drew near he knew where
the taint originated. It was the
towel...
Just then Detective Jordan came
down with the two men, Jensen and
Nielsen. They looked at Bishop ques-
tioningly.
“There’s something wrong here,” the
Captain told them. “I want everybody
to remain until I have made a check-
up.”
| EAVING Detective Jordan with the
men, the Captain and Detective
Robert J. White entered the cellar. As
they went down the steps, they felt
themselves in the presence of death
—invisible, yet seemingly so close that
they could reach out and touch it. At
the bottom of the steps, Bishop hesi-
tated. The floor was covered with
three inches of water. The place was
damp with the dampness of a grave.
Against the far wall was a collection
of old furniture and boxes piled on top
of three galvanized-iron ash-cans.
Disregarding the water, Bishop and
White sloshed across the floor to the
opposite wall. Quickly they removed
the furniture from the ash-cans, and
then saw something which made them
redouble their efforts.
Spread across the top of one of the
cans was a torn red-and-white checked
blanket!
Aided by the gleams of werful
pocket torches, the officers delved into
the cans. In quick succession they ex-
tracted the right forearm, left hip and
thigh, and the right half of a woman’s
torso. From the second came more
remains, and in the third can a head
was found. That meant a second per-
son had been slain and butchered—a
second woman.
Hardened as the officers were, they
were shocked by their discovery. The
cellar was nothing more than a death
chamber. In the corner they came
upon a bloodstained axe, hatchet and
saw.
But who was the killer? Who was
the butcher who had hacked these wo-
men into little pieces? Was it one of
the three men upstairs? Certainly none
of them looked strong enough for the
task. Captain Bishop remembered the
Medical Examiner’s report that “who-
ever cut those joints used terrific
force,” and none of the three seemed
to fit into a strong-man category. They
all looked innocent enough—yet the
soiled trousers that first had been
found might fit the stocky caretaker.
Still what reason would any one of
them have for slaying either Miss
Brownell or Mrs. ‘Bennett? By now
Captain Bishop felt certain that the
fate of both women had been the same
—that Mrs. Bennett was the second
victim.
Captain Bishop hurried upstairs to
where the men were waiting. ’
“We're all going to Headquarters,”
he announced. “For the time being,
you are all held for investigation.”
The men looked at each other.
“What for?” one of them asked.
Captain Bishop compressed his lips
and told them,
“Because portions of two dead wo-
men have just been found in the cellar.
It’s only logical to assume that anyone
living here must know something
about it.”
Outside of the house they found
Bennett waiting for news. Captain
Bishop did not commit himself, but
advised the man to come along to
Headquarters with Nielsen, Jensen and
Lee. He didn’t want to alarm the hus-
band needlessly until after he was
more sure of his ground.
On the way the Captain learned
more about the men in the house.
Nielsen, it developed, was not a resi-
dent, but was just visiting his friend
Jensen for the day.
“What’s your occupation?” the Cap-
tain asked Jensen.
“I clerk at the A & P,” said the
young man.
The Captain made no comment, but
filed the fact for future reference.
When they arrived at Bergen Street
Headquarters, the Captain hurried to
Inspector Sullivan, whose well-known
beetle-brows twisted’ into a shaggy
knot as he heard the report.
“Tl talk to the grocery clerk first,”
he said.
Chris Jensen was taken from the
anteroom. The Inspector looked at
his anxious face, motioned him to a
chair.
“This is a serious matter,” said Sul-
livan, “Therefore, when you answer
me be sure that you tell the truth.”
Jensen nodded, waited.
Sullivan took from his desk the
brown paper wrapping that Inspector
Carey had brought over from New
York.
“Did you ever see this before?” he
asked.
Jensen’s eyes opened wide as he saw
the column of ten figures at the spot
where Sullivan’s index finger rested.
“Why, that’s my own handwriting,”
he exclaimed. “I remember taking
that paper from the store.”
Sullivan leaned forward, tense. In
a low, biting voice, he said: “The legs
of a dead woman were found inside
this wrapper!”
ere eyes were disks of terror,
He recoiled from the paper.
“Ask Lee about it, then,” he said.
“I gave that paper to him last Friday
night.”
Quickly Jensen went on to explain.
His voice shook with emotion as he
hastened to clear himself of the ac-
cusation because of the figures written
in his own hand.
“I came to the house and started to
walk upstairs to my room with a
package. Lee saw me and asked me
what I had. It was a lamp. I showed
it to him, then rather than carry the
ADS
se paper upstairs, I asked him if I
id leave it in the hall. He said
‘-—T want to use it”
Vas Jensen’s story true? For the
ie, being, Inspector Sullivan was
1-committal. He sent for Lee.
‘he man, who had a heavy-set body,
ibered awkwardly into the room.
contrast to Jensen’s frank manner,
: was uncommunicative. When the
pector began to talk, his eyes were
ber.
I can’t speak much English,” he
1, ‘I don’t know what you are
ing.
Did you ever see this paper be-
2?” asked the Inspector, shoving the
ipper before his face. ~
ee blinked.
lied.
How about this?” The Inspector
d out a strip of red-and-white
aket. “Or this?” he asked, bringing
the khaki trousers.
I don’t know,” said Lee,
Stand up,” ordered the Inspector.
: obeyed. Quickly the Inspector
‘ that the trousers would fit him.
s Lee the mysterious butcher? Cer-
uy he was the one man with the
atest opportunity.
Let me see your hands,” was the
t order,
E held out his hands. The fingers
wére blunt, strong-looking. But the
oector was not interested in that
ect as much as he was in the mass
clotted matter beneath the thick
‘ernails.
fe looked at the man’s hair. It was
k and wiry—like the hair clutched
he hand of one of the dead women.
‘arefully the Inspector scraped Lee’s
‘ernails, snipped off strands of his
c. Lee looked on, a flicker of
isement creeping into his otherwise
id face.
You don’t have to open your mouth
a year,” said the Inspector. “Be-
» the day is over we’ll know wheth-
you are the man we want or not.”
[ don’t know,” Lee said, shrugging.
o make sure that he was over-
sing no bets, the Inspector had hair
iples and nail scrapings taken from
sen and Nielsen and sent them by:
tial courier to the Medical Exam-
’s laboratory.
feanwhile, back at No. 28 Prospect
ce, Captain Bishop and his men
‘e continuing their search for clews.
er the contents of the three ash-
s had been sorted out by Doctor
‘ten, the detectives went through
cellar, taking the place apart. They
ved into every nook and cranny.
ed by a poker and a_ powerful
p, Captain Bishop searched the
ing rafters. Soon his light picked
the gleam of shiny leather. Reach-
inside the boards, he came upon
pairs of shoes. Then he withdrew
hats, stockings and gloves. One
had two fingers missing.
ut these were as nothing compared
his next discovery, for from the
k recess of the ceiling rafters came
ian’s shirt, and it was covered with
e daubs of dried blood.
‘uickly Captain Bishop sought an
itifying mark and found, in the
«band, an inked figure “B-118.”
Those shirt was it?
ealizing its importance, Captain
iop sent the shirt on to Headquar-
. There a check-up showed that it
the same size as the one being
n by Ludwig Lee and had the same
idry mark. The evidence was pil-
up against the caretaker.
ut the man insisted that the shirt
not his, and said that he did not
w how it had come to be in the
ar;
Your innocence is touching,” said
Inspector drily. “But it seems to
that it will take a better man than
to explain away two bodies found
he cellar of the house you are sup-
2d to be taking care of.”
ee stared at the Inspector, then
»ped his gaze and relapsed into his
itual, “I don’t know.”
Ithough Lee remained stolidly in-
2rent to what was happening, the
of evidence was running against
eports from the laboratory showed
“I don’t know,” he.
that his fingernail scrapings contained
blood, while the reactions for Nielsen
and Jensen were negative. In addl-
tion, Lee’s hair matched the samples
taken from the clenched fingers of one
of the women.
At the. Morgue Doctor Marten, Doc-
tor Gonzales and Doctor Auerbach
labored to piece together the 25 body
fragments in order to identify at least
one of the women. It was almost mid-
night before they announced them-
selves ready for the witnesses.
Elroy Brownell, a nephew of the
landlady of Prospect Place, was the
first to enter. He looked at the muti-
lated parts and corroded head—rec-
ognized nothing.
Then Alfred Bennett entered and
identified his wife’s head.
Judging from the condition of the
remains, Doctor Marten concluded that
Mrs. Bennett had been dead for only
a day, while the other victim had been
killed more than a week previously.
“I’m sure that the unidentified body
is Miss Brownell’s,” said Inspector Sul-
livan. “Everything points to her being
killed about July 4, for none of the
neighbors have seen her since. It ap-
pears that Mrs. Bennett was killed
only because she entered the cellar
while the killer was at work dismem-
bering his first victim.”
found in the B. M. T. yards had been
entirely caten away by the action of
the same chemical,
With the discovery of the horror in
the cellar at No. 28, the neighborhood
became aroused. From the mass of
rumors that went flying about, the po-
lice were able to establish several im-
portant facts.
Friends of Miss Brownell’s came
forward to reveal that the woman had
lived a life of terror for the past four
months. She had tried to discharge
Lee as caretaker, only to have him
turn against her _ threateningly.
Alarmed by a stealthy plodding of the
hallway at night, she twice had fled
to a friend’s home to beg shelter.
Fearing notoriety, she had refrained
from bringing the matter to the atten-
tion of the authorities.
But on June 27 Lee’s behavior had
grown so menacing that a neighbor
had sent for a policeman. A search
of the records showed that Patrolman
John H. Tonry had been sent to inves-
tigate. When questioned by Inspector
Sullivan, Tonry recalled the occasion.
“Lee was threatening the woman,
and she was frightened out of her
wits,” Tonry stated. “I told him to
pack up and get out of the house. He
refused, saying that she owed him
two hundred dollars for work he had
Crowds gathered around the hotel in Platteville, Wisconsin, when
the rumor was spread that Hattie Hales’ body had been dug up.
The story of this case may be found on Page 24 of this issue
Hampered by the presence of the
water-in the cellar, which had risen
hourly, the police enlisted the assis-
tance of the Bureau of Sewers. An
emergency squad was soon at work
dismantling the trap-box, and they
found that the pipes were completely
choked by parts of a human body.
fire hose was then brought into play
and when the stoppage was broken, a
broken plate of false teeth’ was re-
covered.
It was then apparent that the killer
had tried to dispose of his first victim
through the drain, but had _ soon
clogged up the system. Ironically
enough, it was the failure of the killer
. to succeed with this method that
had brought death to Mrs. Bennett,
for inasmuch as she held a mortgage
on the property, she was interested in
its upkeep and had gone to the house
for the express purpose of inspecting
the damage in the cellar.
With the discovery of the teeth, Miss
Brownell’s dentist, Doctor J. Norbert
Gelson, was called in and was able to
make an identification of the plate.
When the water subsided a further
search of the cellar was undertaken
and a tool-box came to light. It con-
tained Lee’s tools and a mutilated hu-
man finger around which was a gold
wedding ring. Alfred Bennett iden-
tified the ring as his wife’s.
Then in another portion of the base-
ment the investigators discovered two
dozen cans of lye. These were traced
to neighborhood stores and Lee was
identified as the. purchaser. He had
told the clerks that he was having
trouble with the drain at his house.
While this was true, it also was signifi-
cant that the features of the head
done around the place. I told him that
as far as the law was concerned he
was only a vagrant and that if he
wasn’t out by the next day, I would
throw him out.
“He seemed to quiet down after that
and there were no more complaints.”
But it was now apparent that Lee’s
resentment had only smoldered be-
neath the surface, to break out a week
later in a fury of murderous rage.
As the police delved into the back-
ground of the man, it developed that
he had enjoyed Miss Brownell’s liber-
ality for the preceding five years, and
at one time she had given him $800
to open a store of his own. However,
this venture failed, and he was soon
back preying on her for more money.
When a check signed by Miss Brown-
ell and forged to the sum of $1,000
was found in Lee’s trunk it became
clear that the motive behind the brutal
crime was purely that of cold, schem-
ing greed.
Despite the evidence against him,
Lee, steel-nerved and self-possessed,
denied his guilt. He insisted that the
last time he had seen Miss Brownell
was at supper on July 4.
“She gave me fifteen dollars and
told me that she was going away that
night. She did not tell me where she
was going. I went to bed and I did not
see her again.”
“And Mrs. Bennett—when did you
last see her?”
“She came over last Saturday. She
followed me into the cellar when I
went down to fix the leak. Then she
left me and went upstairs and said:
‘Remember me to Miss Brownell, Mr.
Lee’.”
To blast this fantastic story, the po-
lice heard from the lips of neighbors
how Miss Brownell was never seen to
Jeave the house on the Fourth of July,
and how Mrs, Bennett had gone up the
steps on the evening of July 10 never
to be seen again.
Mrs. Emma Lohmann, who lived
next door at No. 30, stated that she
heard noises coming from the cellar
during the night of July 10, and when
she questioned Lee about it, he told
her that he was only fixing the plumb-
ing. But the police, bearing in mind
the Medical Examiner’s testimony re-
garding the force used to hack the
mutilated parts, realized the gruesome
import of the sounds.
Lee’s record then was examined and
it showed that he had entered the
United States from Norway in 1922,
and formerly had been a sailor and
carpenter on various freight ships. A
stocky man with thick lips and crook-
ed, wide-spaced teeth, Lee discussed
the case as calmly as if he were talk-
ing about a flight of stairs.
Due to the fact that a complete and
positive identification of Miss Brownell
was impossible, he was held for the
murder of Mrs. Bennett and was rep-
resented by Edward J. Reilly, who
was later to achieve fame as chief de-
fense counsel for Bruno Hauptmann in
the Lindbergh kidnap trial.
Lee had a strange belief that under
American law a person could not be
convicted unless he confessed his
crime. Hence he faced his trial with
a sneer on his thick lips.
Because of his Norwegian citizen-
ship, the Consul of his country took an
interest in his case, and on July 20,
when Reilly charged that his client was
beaten by the police in an attempt to
force a confession, the Norwegian
Minister in Washington protested to
the Secretary of State. As a conse-
quence, Governor Alfred E. Smith of
New York was asked to investigate.
Lee was examined by numerous phy-
sicians, but the upshot was that the
charge could not be substantiated.
After this flurry in the realm of in-
ternational diplomacy, Lee came into
court before County Judge Alonzo G.
McLaughlin on October 19, and heard
the murder indictment read. He
seemed to stiffen momentarily as the
clerk droned: “. . . killed the de-
ceased with a sharp instrument...”
but aside from that he gave no indi-
cation that he was much concerned.
Then, under the direction of Chief
Assistant District Attorney Fred Kopff
and Assistant District Attorney Cuff,
the People’s case was set ‘before the
After two weeks of testimony, Judge
McLaughlin, on November 3, read his
charge. He stated that six possible
verdicts could be brought in—murder
in the first degree, premeditated mur-
der in the second degree, unpremedi-
tated murder in the second degree,
manslaughter in the first or second de-
gree, or acquittal.
While the rain beat a drab tattoo on
the windows of the crowded court-
room, Lee sat with a smile on his face.
Hours passed. Finally the jury re-
turned. The veniremen held their
hats in their hands and their coats
over their arms, a sign that they had
reached a verdict.
eid a of acquittal, Lee wait-
ed. A moment later he was
stunned to hear the foreman boom:
“Guilty of murder in the first degree.”
Taken to the death-house at Sing
Sing, he waited while his case was
prepared for review by the Court of
Appeals. Then on May 7 he heard
that his appeal was lost. June 18 was
set as the execution date. By appeals
to the Norwegian government, he suc-
ceeded in bringing pressure to bear in
diplomatic circles. Two 30-day re-
prieves were granted by Governor
Smith until the case could be inves-
tigated fully and completely for pos-
sibilities of new evidence. Then on
August 1, the last reprieve expired.
Desperately Lee tried to save his
skin, but his last-minute efforts failed.
On August 2, doomed by the over-
whelming tide of factual evidence, he
walked through the little green door -
from which there is no return,
43
”
“w
LiE, Lous
Packages containing
parts of the bodies of two
women furnished a grue-
some trail that led police
to the capture of a cold-
blooded fiend.
5 by
Morton Faber
UMBLED masses of lowering
clouds banked the Brooklyn hori-
zon. Lightning ripped and crackled,
filling the skies with an‘eerie glare. The
air was close and heavy, seemingly preg-
nant with impending evil—nature’s pre-
lude to a summer storm. ‘
Suddenly, with a crashing roar of
thunder, the heavens opened. Slanting
24
HALL
fy (CP
sheets of rain drove downward, rattling
like musketry against roof top and win-
dow pane. Jagged flashes of lightning
tore the sullen clouds and buildings
shook with the rumbling menace of the
rolling thunder.
It was a weird scene—fit setting for
deeds of bloody violence. And through
the swirling.rain moved the sinister
figure of a stalking killer. Quickly he
struck. And when the fury of the war-
ring elements had subsided, a scarlet
thread had been woven into the gray woof
of the summer storm.
Early on the following morning, July
9, 1927, Patrolmen Krudner and Hughes
~
“guards to prevent
fingerprint confusion, .*
amines the blood- :
tained clothes of the -
killer, in which a
leg was wrapped.
vee
of the Old Slip police station on :Man- :
hattan Island were returning to the sta-
tionhouse after an all night tour of duty. ;.
They were passing through Battery, ..
Park when Krudner saw a bundle half. .
hidden beneath a clump. of shrubbery.
“Looks like somebody has lost his . °
laundry,” he said jestingly to his com-* ’
panion. “We’d better see what it is.” °
Opening the package, which was-
wrapped in half a sheet, they found a pair .
of dirty, oil-stained trousers. These, in-
turn, had been clumsily wound .around' ’
an object covered with coarse wrapping .
paper. Hastily they tore open the final
covering—then recoiled in horror at the.
sight that met their eyes.
There in the torn wrappings lay the
left leg of a human being—a leg that had
been hacked from a woman’s body.
The patrolmen sped to the Old Slip
station with their gruesome find. There
AO
(437
they notific
Carey. A:
homicide s«
to the insp
But bar
under way
Brooklyn «
Edward
gone to e&
church, Si:
He arrived
until sever
ing up ane
Sudden!
package |)
to an appr:
Byrne, th:
looking p:
haps you'c
Byrne |
unprepare
- which was
He cut
feet, agha
onto the ;
a human
flesh, par:
.. tally hact
station on _Man-
ning to the sta-
cht tour of duty. .”
-hrough Battery. .
w a bundle half
of shrubbery.
ly has lost his
gly to his com-:: -
‘-e what it is.”
which was
hey found a pair .
isers. These, in
- wound .around
coarse wrapping
e open the final
in horror at the.
‘appings lay the
-—a leg that had
nan’s body.
to the Old Slip
ome find. There
they notified Deputy Inspector Arthur
Carey. A group of detectives from the
homicide squad came running in answer
to the inspector’s call.
But barely had the detectives gotten
under way when word was flashed from
Brooklyn of fresh developments.
Edyard Meyer, a 16-year-old boy, had
gone to early mass at St. Augustine’s
church, Sixth avenue and Sterling Place.
He arrived at 6:40 o’clock. Mass was not
until seven, so he waited outside, walk-
ing up and down in front of the church.
Suddenly he observed an oddly shaped
package lying behind a hedge. Calling
to an approaching policeman, Patrolman,
Byrne, the boy said: “There’s a funny
looking package behind that hedge. Per-
haps you'd like to look at it.”
Byrne recovered the bundle, wholly
unprepared for the grisly discovery
which was to confront him.
He cut the strings, then leaped to his
* feet; aghast, as. the bloody horror rolled
‘onto the grass. He had found part of
a human torso—a- mutilated mass of
flesh, part of the back and one hip, bru-
tally hacked from.a’ woman’s body !
Developments were rapid. Before the
detectives had recovered from the shock
of the second ghastly find, a third bundle
was discovered. This time one of the
sinister packages was found under an
iron stairway in the rear of the Carlton
Theatre at 135 Park Place. It contained
a woman’s left arm and shoulder, crudely
severed from the torso.
But there was a lead at last. Clutched
in a death grip in the rigid fingers were
several strands of coarse black hair. The
first clue to the torso murderer !
Brooklyn and Manhattan stood aghast
at the fiendish crime. Murder had been
done—but such a murder as transcended
all previous killings. The sheer horror
of the manner of execution struck deep
into the city’s heart.
The history of horrifying crime in
New York City reveals only two cases
Mrs. Sarah Brownell, a Brooklyn landlady
whose looks belied her 76 years, was the
first victim of the brutal slayer.
which parallel the Brooklyn outrage. Tn
1897, William Guldensuppe, victim of
a love triangle, was foully murdered and
his body hacked to pieces with a razor.
In November, 1930, history was repeated
when the nude, dismembered body of an
unidentified man was found, locked in a
trunk, floating in the Hudson River.
Police were in a quandary. Identifica-
tion of the dismembered parts was im-
possible, Clues were virtually non-exis-
tent, And then came a lead which started
the chase afresh. Into the police station
rushed Alfred Bennett, of 16 Lincoln
8
The dank. basement pictured
below was turned into a
‘slaughterhouse. The photo
.shows detectives unearthing
“glues. that ‘led to the . killer.
by
HORACE B. BROWN
ARCH MAD COME IN like a lion almost a week earlier and it
seemed to the woman, watching from her kitchen window
the black clouds being whipped and twisted into grotesque
figures by the wind, that it was a little more “lionish” than usual.
Already it was the fifth, and still the storm that enveloped the Catta-
raugus Hill country as the month roared in, continued. The white
expanse of snow stretched away in every direction from the lonely
farmhouse.
There was a wistful look in the woman's eyes'as she gazed off toward
the main highway, a mile away, accessible from the desolate farm only
through a narrow, drift-piled dirt road. Here and there a tree, its
gaunt limbs ridged with ermine, or the top of a fencepost, peeping
from a huge drift, accentuated the loncliness of the place.
With a sigh, she turned away and walked to the kitchen range.
Lifting a lid, she pushed more wood into the bed of glowing coals.
She shivered as she contemplated the bitter weather outside. For a
moment, she stood close to the friendly warmth that radiated from the
stove, She looked up at the clock on a shelf over the table, and it
told her it was 10:30 o’clock. Her thoughts turned to the mid-
day meal her husband liked to have ready promptly at
noon. He would be returning shortly from the
creamery where he had gone with milk. Hum-
ming
DEFENDED HONOR
Middle-aged housewife: fought
her attacker—and died at his
lustful hands, like this.
ee
eentnd
~
=
276 MEMOIRS OF A MURDER MAN
ing her, trying to get her to leave her husband. But she
was very fond of the home she had made, the doll’s*house.
The only menace to her happiness was the younger man
who insisted upon calling when her husband was out.
The night before the body was found she met her an-
noyer, and he walked with her to the apartment. Her
husband entered, flew into a rage, and attacked the man.
The latter seemed to be getting the best of the combat,
and the young woman ran into the kitchen, got the grape-
fruit knife, and handed it to her husband. A blow felled
his wife’s annoyer, and it was then that his throat was
cut, the blood spurting onto the portiére and rug. The
body was put in a bedroom. An effort was made to cut
it up, but the job was only partially done. The corpse
was put into an automobile, carted to the beach, and “i
hurled into the sea.
Flusband and wife were convicted of manslaughter.
The young woman had no deep affection for her husband.
The dead man had been a threat to her happiness in the
doll’s house, and so she arranged to have him removed
from the scene. The disposition of the body furnished
evidence of consciousness of guilt, otherwise the husband
might successfully have urged in his defense the so-called
unwritten law.
Bundle bunglers are not as a rule mentally deficient.
They are stolid types, capable of working out a plot to _ |
Ludwig Lee, a stocky Norwegian, had a natively alert,
tewd mind. He was perhaps the worst bundle bungler
that I encountered in my experience, and I have seen a
goodly number.
Around two o'clock on the morning of July 9, 1927, a
patrolman was going through Battery Park, the gouthern-
most tip of Manhattan Island. He had his nightstick
out, and now and then as he came upon a man asleep upon
a-certain point, but no farther.
|
BUNGLERS’* BUNDLES 237
a park bench he tapped him on the soles of his feet and
roused him. In the course of his travels he saw a fat bundle
at the corner of an air vent of the subway. He poked at
it with his nightstick. Brown cord around the bundle came
apart. He investigated a little further and found within
a wrapper of cheap brown paper two laundry bags, a
towel made from a white cotton bedspread, a pair of
_oil-stained, brown denim trousers, and the right and left
f a human being, each in a laundry bag.
ee an eceuinhics of the limbs I determined that
they were the legs of an aged woman, and that they had
been severed from the body by an axe. The denim trousers
were made to fit a thin man about five feet six inches.
There were no identifying marks on the laundry bags or
towel. :
But upon the brown wrapping paper I found a column
of penciled figures, written hurriedly:
IO
49
15
39
Io
Io
13
25
33
204
They were large Spencerian figures such as a clerk in
a grocery store might write in figuring up sales to a cus-
tomer. And the paper was of cheap quality, such as
chain grocery stores would use. Moreover, I reasoned
that the nine articles for which the figures stood were
commodities likely to have been purchased in a chain
Store. The sale they represented must have been made
BS sy Sts
o = ~ — . :
Pe mn ~ ae *
PA = EM OEE I OO a BNE AN OD TT
Benes ae Ps
rey
Breer.
—
Sa ary
rm
—_ J
+. Tr 7 er aca Fs
. ee
Sa SST a EO OS
bodies have been dismembered,
28
fe) MEMOIRS oF A MURDER MAN
by a short thickse :
: ’ tm i /
eight years old. His hair er black neck, about thirty-
ment and had left her sta di
atthe pipes. As to Miss Br
)
4th she had left for Glaveavnetee
tives over the holiday and had not ret
e detectives noted a strange ec
as they stood at the door talkin,
Investigators Separated, one going j
other calling on a Mrs. E
adjoined the Brownell Place. Mrs
Brownell yard and admi
while later the N eit mains
D .
etectives left on guard at the Brownell house heard
‘4
BUNGLERS’” BUNDLES 281
the doorbell ring and opened the door. A man walked
in. He gave his name as Christian Jensen and said he was
calling to see his friend Lee, with whom he had formerly
roomed in a house previously owned by Miss Brownell.
Jensen said he had been out to get a morning paper. He
had a copy of one in his hand, but had not yet seen it.
He told the detectives that he was a clerk in a Brooklyn
Atlantic & Pacific grocery store.
On the front page of the newspaper in his pocket was
the facsimile of the brown wrapping paper with the col-
umn of figures on it that I had caused to be printed. He
explained to the detectives that he was going up to Lee’s
room to look over the paper. He was sent to Brooklyn
police headquarters for further questioning.
A search was made of Lee’s room. In his trunk was
found a passbook on Miss Brownell’s savings bank ac-
count which contained four thousand dollars. Penciled on
the wall above the trunk was the name Otto Nielson and
an address in Brooklyn.
Two assistant medical examiners arrived at the house
and on the floor of the kitchen they pieced together the sec-
tions of the bodies found in the basement and elsewhere.
Several parts were still missing. They were found in an
alcove in the basement. One head was missing—that of
Miss Brownell. A police emergency squad drained the
basement and found human fingers, one of which wore a
ring identified as Miss Brownell’s.
Neighbors reported that on Sunday morning they had
seen Lee leave the house early with a bundle, return half
an hour later, and carry out two more bundles. Nielson,
upca being interviewed, stated that about 9 P. M. Satur-
day night, two hours after Mrs. Bennett had last been
seen alive, he had called at the Brownell house with Jen-
sen, but had some trouble in getting an answer to the
doorbell. After a while Lee appeared, nude, and said he
was taking a bath. Nielsen and Jensen went upstairs to
ES ee Ee
Lee stoutly de-
od ine
ss Brownell had gone to Gloversville aud fad co
women lay, ;
a killed them?” he was asked
€ Decame sullen and ferocious “J don’
tet ; tk !”
cried. “How should I know?” He added spitefully that
“the old woman had b
refused, then consented me to marry her and I first
Jensen came into th
€ room. He heard Lee’
mark. He spoke up and said t es last re.
July 7th, he brought home a pack
Py |
: ; 3
en : ati . igi sa ca Sa ai <i
a a SS ii 8 on Ea SS en, Yor 3
een. ag a ed SR gt ey Rae ne ego enn eR Re ty a De an 22 ts P
seietinttte ee a TT eT ee
iene 2. weiss 9 Kh
BUNGLERS” BUNDLES 283
for it. Moreover, it definitely put the bundle in Lee’s
hands. -
What had happened to Miss Brownell and Mrs. Ben-
nett was clear. Lee had first killed the older woman,
striking her on the head with the axe. This happened on
Thursday night, the night Jensen had handed Lee the
wrapping paper. He had her body on his hands, but his
plot had not taken into consideration the disposition of
the remains. Then on Saturday night, the night Neilson
and Jensen had called, Mrs. Bennett went into the base-
ment to find the leaking pipes. It was about that time that
Lee was cutting up the body of Miss Brownell. And to
prevent Mrs. Bennett from telling of the ghastly sight she
must have seen as she entered the basement he killed her.
Thus he had two bodies on his hands. His plot had not
encompassed the disposition of a second body. Confused,
he hacked them both to pieces, bundled them, and dropped
them about Brooklyn with disastrous consequences.
He was electrocuted in 1928.
I am inclined to believe that even had the other sections
of the body not been found, even had the detectives not
entered the basement or had been taken elsewhere in their
search, we would have been led to Lee. The piece of paper
with Jensen’s figures on it had already put us on the right
trail, for Jensen later said that when he did look at the
Sunday newspaper he instantly recognized the figures as
his and had the case not come to such a sudden climax
would have gotten into touch with us.
And so it runs with bundle bunglers. The Lee case was
a striking example of what can be done in modern murder
detection, with medical experts working, on one hand;
and, on the other hand, trained detectives selecting the
most direct clue, like the paper and the figures, which
lead to the murderer in the shortest possible time. And
the work of the Murder Clinic in calling in consulting
experts like the paper manufacturers whose advice nar-
ie NDT RE SNe Mae” OR sy AR MMM) Fei os Am
SOI a aie
em eee TT
“4 ty
him what it said. He held out his
hand and I seen the words ‘True Love.’
But honest, I never thought of it again
from that day to this!”
The man seemed a little alarmed
now, apparently fearful that Miller
might think he had been attempting to
conceal this information, but the in-
vestigator was thinking of something
else and had heard enough.
“Thanks,” he said dryly, and, getting
into his automobile, he stepped on the
starter, put the car in gear and drove
away. He drove as fast as he could,
too. A hot clew? Well, he and Sheriff
Carlson could run it down and see how .
hot it was. :
Back at Little Valley, Miller found:
Sheriff Carlson returned from Buffalo.
Several telephone calls had come in
from prisons in New England and New
York. But nothing new had developed.
Miller started talking almost before
he rushed through the doorway. “Got
something hot, Les!” he said.
Sheriff Carlson’s face showed his in-
terest. “What is it, Elmer?”’
|7 DID not take Miller long to explain
what he had learned from the
creamery hand. “This is a natural,’
Les!” he clipped out. “Our theory was
that the murders could have been com-
mitted by some old enemy of Farns-
worth’s, maybe some fellow who'd
been in prison with him. All right!
Such a tattoo mark would identify any
prisoner in the entire State!”
Sheriff Carlson was jubilant. “Abso-
lutely! And it won’t take long to get
the information, either. We'll fine-comb
those prison records. Narrows down
things, anyhow. If we flop on it, of
course—if it doesn’t click—well, then
we'll just have to try something else.” .
“We'll get Clinton Prison on the
wire,” Miller said. “We'll have: ’em
phone us right away a description of
every prisoner discharged or paroled
in the last year. Yes, sir! I’m betting
we hit a hot trail at last!”
Immediately Sheriff Carlson assigned
a deputy to call Clinton Prison and
told him to stay on the wire until the
information had been supplied by the
warden. A half-hour later Carlson and
Miller were scanning the notes as the
deputy wrote them down. In a few
minutes the deputy spoke:
“Wait a minute,” he said, stretching
his cramped hand. “Here’s one with a
tattoo-mark identification.”
“Let’s have it,” Carlson ordered.
As the deputy resumed writing, the
two men at his side watched eagerly
as every. word took form on the paper.
When it was completed, Carlson
picked up the paper and pointed to the
notes, a broad smile overspreading his
face for the first time in two days.
“Look!” he exclaimed. “Look at
this!”
Then he read:
Alfred Lindsay, alias Arthur
Flynn, born in Lowell, Mass. Lives
with sister in New Rochelle, N. Y.
A description of the man who, prison
authorities said, had been released a
few days before Farnsworth, the pre-
vious August, followed. Toward the
end was:
Words “True Love” tattooed on
finger of left hand.
Carlson and Miller looked at each
er,
“That’s the man we want to talk to,”
Carlson grinned.
- How
check-writing machine was used—
again, who had access to it?
You will be struck with the fact,
when you have worked on a few for-
geries, that the forger always knows a
great deal about the financial status
and habits of his victim.
Visit the bank and question tellers.
Often they will at first be unable to
recall the person who presented it,
particularly if it was during a busy
hour. Use your portrait parle system
to jog the teller’s memory. :
Talk the matter over with your po-
lice officials and old-time detectives;
show them the photostats. In many
aed you will receive a lead from
em,
56
“That’s the guy!” Miller agreed.
Fifteen minutes later the alarm was
on the police teletype and going into
every police station and trooper bar-
racks in the State. The Sheriff asked
for the detention of Alfred Lindsay for
questioning in connection with the
double murder of Harold and Bernice
Farnsworth.
The following day the Farnsworth
automobile was picked up by New
York City police where it had been
abandoned in Seventh Avenue.
The manhunt was on in earnest
now. Lindsay’s old haunts in the me-
tropolis were watched. Detectives were
sent to his sister’s home in New Ro-
chelle. But the tattooed murder sus-
pect still was elusive. A few hours be-
haps there was a “why”—and this par-
ticular breakfaster answered the gen-
eral description of the man wanted up-
state for murder.
Detective Notheis swallowed the rest
of his coffee in a gulp. He paid his
check and wandered outside —and
stuck around until the gloved man
emerged. Notheis tailed him for a
block or so. He noticed how nervous
the chap seemed to be. And the de-
tective decided to act. He quickened
his pace, came abreast of the gloved
man,
“Just a minute, Buddy!” he said.
“Where you going?”
The glove man stiffened. Then he
answered: “Oh, just taking a little
walk. Why?”
Even the murder charge hanging over her husband does not interfere
with the kiss Mrs. Clarence Norton bestows upon him when she visits
him in jail. The story is told
fore police called at his sister’s home,
he had been there and left, they
learned. But the trail was hot.
Detective John Notheis, who has
been attached to the Dewey Rackets
Squad for some time now, but who
then was a member of the Homicide
Squad, walked out of New York Po-
lice Headquarters on the morning of
March 11, 1935, to have his breakfast.
He strolled up Seventh Avenue, turned
into a convenient restaurant and or-
dered toast and coffee.
The restaurant was crowded at that
hour and Notheis ate in silence, now
and then scanning the faces at the
tables about him, as was his' custom.
A FEW tables away a man attracted
his attention. It was not so much
the man himself, though; it was the
unusual manner in which the fellow
was eating. He wore gloves.
.Notheis’ mind flashed back to the
description of a wanted man, a man
believed to be in or around New York
City—Alfred Lindsay, who had the
words “True Love” tattooed on a fin-
ger of his left hand.
Eating with gloves on? Why? Per-
in detail beginning on Page 2
Notheis caught the slight quaver in
his voice. “Take off your gloves,” he
ordered. ‘
“Yeah? Who the Hell are you to
order me around?” the other chal-
lenged.
The detective turned back the lapel
of his coat and flashed his badge. “Off
with ’em, Mug!” he clipped.
Slowly, with trembling hands, the
man withdrew the gloves. Notheis
saw the tattoo mark. “O. K.,’’ he said.
“We're going down to Headquarters,
Lindsay!’”’ He snapped a pair of hand-
cuffs on the wrists of the protesting
man.
At Headquarters Lindsay first denied
his identity or that he knew anything
about the slayings, but when police
confronted him with his prison record
and detectives pointed to the tell-tale
tattoo marks on the finger of his left
hand, he admitted he was the man
being sought.
Two days later he waived examina-
tion in New York City and was re-
turned to Cattaraugus County for
questioning.
And finally, taken back to the lonely
house of death in Coldspring Town-
ship, the scene of the crime, he o>
fessed to Sheriff Carlson and Distric
Attorney Krieger that he had killed
the man and the woman, but he in-
sisted he had struck in self-defense.
Lindsay said in his confession that
he had been released from Clinton
Prison a few days before Farnsworth.
He said he later learned his former
cellmate in Auburn Prison and _ his
partner in numerous crimes was mar-
ried and living on a farm in the west-
ern part of the State. He learned of
Farnsworth’s whereabouts and went to
see him.
Farnsworth, against the wishes of
his wife, had taken his former pal in.
But the life on the lonely farm was too
much for Lindsay and he told his
benefactors he was going away. He
said there was some money coming to
him. Farnsworth insisted that Lindsay
had agreed to work for his room and
board and refused to give him any
cash, A quarrel followed and Lindsay
left. The following morning he re-
turned when he knew Farnsworth
would be at the creamery with the
milk. He said he intended to attempt
to persuade Mrs. Farnsworth to give
him some money. But the woman
would have nothing to do with -him
and ordered him out of the house. * —
Lindsay said he became infuriated at
the injustice he believed was being
done him and while he and the woman
were arguing, Farnsworth returned.
The two men quarreled again and.
Farnsworth went down cellar. Lindsay
said he followed. The battle of words
became fiercer and finally Mrs, Farns-
worth came into the basement.
At THIS point Lindsay claimed that
Farnsworth started for him with
an axe, shouting: “I’ll kill you, you —!””
They fought for the axe, the prisoner
said, and during the struggle Mrs.
Farnsworth, who was attempting to
aid her husband, was struck on the
head and killed.
Farnsworth then ran upstairs, Lind-
say said, and grabbed the revolver and
again the men battled for the weapon.
And once more the tide of victory
flowed to Lindsay when Farnswort
was shot as the gun was accidental
discharged. This was Lindsay’s stoi
At the trial that followed quic
after a grand jury indicted Alfred
Lindsay for first-degree murder, Dis-
trict Attorney Krieger attacked the
fantastic story of the accused man. He
showed conclusively there had been no
struggle in the house and that the
woman could not have been slain in
the manner Lindsay declared she was.
The District Attorney made much of
the fact the accused man failed to ex-
plain how it had come about that Mrs.
Farnsworth was practically decapitated
and had been hit numerous times.
At the conclusion of the trial, which
lasted five days, the prosecution had
proved that Lindsay, infatuated with
Mrs. Farnsworth, had returned when
he knew Farnsworth would be away,
and when the woman had repulsed his
attentions and refused to give him
money, he had followed her down
cellar and slain her with the axe. He
then lay in wait for his former pal and
shot him down in cold blood when
he came home a short time later.
After three hours of deliberation the
jury found Alfred Lindsay guilty as
charged and he was put to death in
the electric chair at Sing Sing.
Women Can Be Detectives (Continued from Page 41)
Once you have identified the forger
Fae may be faced with a great man-
unt, for the forger may have skipped.
If case is a big one, it is wise to broad-
cast flyers or reward circulars. In any
event, routine methods of tracing ad-
vocated in this article and in those that
preceded this will eventually produce
results.
All paperhangers—from the lowly
bogus check passer to the higher type
raiser—are very plausible persons,
glib-tongued, with a high-pressure
“line.” In the general criminal social
scheme, forgers rank rather high. By
virtue of this the chase is likely to be
a long one; the battle of wits will pro-
vide the excitement that most detec-
.
‘N
tives like so well, and the migratory
habits of such criminals often provide
you with the chance for travel.
Of all the detective work that I have
done, the tracing of forgers is one of
my favorites. In addition, you can
achieve success rather quickly, too, for
in these cases you always have con-
crete leads—the handwriting, the check
itself, and all the little details you can
determine easily. Such concrete leads
do not always exist in safe-robberies,
burglaries, jewel thefts and murders,
which we will study in future articles.
Women detectives can find countless
opportunities for getting into this par-
ticular field of investigation; it is
steady work and the pay is attractive.
The work itself is active, and changes
of scene are frequent.
In every city there are several busi-
nessmen’s associations, always on the
lookout for an expert in this type of
investigation: Better Business Bu-
reaus, the various Chambers of Com-
merce, retail and wholesale trade asso-
ciations, professional men’s societies
and associations, banks, some types of
insurance companies, detective agen-
cies, credit departments of large busi-
ness establishments and stores, depart-
ment stores, community businessmen’s
groups, and so forth.
There are infinitely more paper-
hangers than there are experienced
operatives to cope with them.
AD?
ROM the moment the news came
in over the wires, the Farnsworth
case commanded the close per-
sonal attention of everyone in the
Cattaraugus County Courthouse at
Little Valley, N. Y., because, prior to
her marriage, Mrs. Farnsworth had been
for years court stenographer and was
well liked by everyone.
It was the afternoon of Friday, March
8th, 1935. Sheriff Lester W. Carlson was
appearing as witness in a case in Olean,
in the southeastern corner of the county,
and in his absence I was in charge.
Lieutenant William J. George, the
officer in command of the New York
State Troopers’ outpost at Friendship,
N. Y., had just entered the office. The
news of the tragedy came casually
enough. My wife called me from our
home in near-by Randolph and said that
Ira Bennett, a farmer, had telephoned
that there had been a shooting on the
Farnsworth place. It was then about
two o’clock. .
I notified Coroner George A. Middle-
ton and arranged to get word to Sheriff
Carlson in court at Olean. Then I
started for the Farnsworth farm in Lieu-
36
tenant George’s car. Coroner Middleton,
living in Little Valley, picked up Depu-
fies MaeDonald, Nix, Austin and Arrow-
smith and we all arrived at the farm at
about the same time.
The strange romance that had cul-
minated the August before in the mar-
riage of Harold C. Farnsworth and Miss
Bernice Kenyon, the highly respected
court clerk, had caused plenty of talk
throughout the county, for Miss Kenyon
was well known. It puzzled many peo-
ple that she would be willing to marry
« man who had a prison record.
As Lieutenant George drove over the
icy roads, I recalled the time Farns-
worth had been arrested and implicated
with another man in the organized
thievery of chickens from farmers. Miss
KXenyon, recording the court proceed-
ings, had seen Harold Farnsworth in
court several times. A few of us had
known that she had been attracted to
this man; he was a few years her junior,
and frankly, did not seem to be the
criminal type.
He might have got off easily in
the chicken case had it not been for the
fact that the prosecution dug up a pre-
By
Former Under-Sheriff
LEONE B. PICKUP
Cattaraugus County, New York
As told to LLOYD GRAHAM
(Lett) This tattoo mark on the hand of the murderer
spelled his doom. Though he sought to evade capture by
losing himself in New York City, detectives spotted him
vious conviction against him in another
state involving white slavery activities.
This made a stiff sentence mandatory
and Miss Kenyon told me at the time
of his sentence—she was at her accus-
tomed place in the courtroom—that she
thought the young man was the victim
of a miscarriage of justice.
Farnsworth was first sent to Auburn
and later transferred to Great Meadows
Prison. A few of us knew that our court
stenographer was corresponding with
him. At one time she carried a certain
type of beaded bag, the kind that was
then being made in New York state
prisons. It seemed likely that the bag
was a gift from Harold Farnsworth.
Taking advantage of all possible bene-
fits for good behavior, Harold Farns-
worth won his release from Great
Meadows in August, 1934. Miss Kenyon
resigned from her position, drove to the
prison and met him. The couple then
went to the home of his parents in
Massachusetts where they were quietly
married. After a brief honeymoon, they
returned to Miss Kenyon’s summer cot-
tage at Steamburg.
Miss Kenyon was about fifty years
MASTER DETECTIVE
old u
helpe
her !
she |
oug!
Benn
tage
mons
abou
went
seld
that
forge’
oppo
wort
Suvil
ofter
to fi
hush
place
Fc
cate:
of a
17,4
in tl
hilly
not |
It is
whic
tend
tual!
been
road
Wi
in t]
the 1
liam
wait)
were
arou
the v
had |
“show
ston
Ac
the
another
“tivities.
ndatory
he time
r aecus-
-that she
1e vietim
Auburn
\eadows
our court
ing with
a certain
that was
irk state
the bag
vorth,
ible bene-
il Farns-
n Great
s Kenyon
ve to the
iple then
arents in
re quietly
oon, they
imer cot-
‘ty years
PERTECTIVE
old at this time and had conscientiously
helped support dependent members of
her family for years. At the same time
she had saved some money and she
bought the old McGraw farm of Ira
Bennett, trading in her Steamburg cot-
tage as part payment. She spent some
money modernizing the old house, and
about September Ist she and Harold
went to live there. After that she was
seldom seen by her old friends. We felt
that she wanted to help her husband
forget about his past and give him an
opportunity for a clean start as a good,
worthwhile citizen. She gladly spent her
savings and retreated from the busy and
often interesting life at the courthouse
to live on an isolated farm and help her
husband win a useful and respectable
place in socicty.
For the farm certainly is isolated, lo-
cated on a dirt road fully three-quarters
of a mile from the main highway, No.
17, a short distance north of Steamburg
in the direction of Randolph. In this
hilly country the Farnsworth house can-
not be seen from the main thoroughfare.
It is the only home on the dirt road,
which on county maps is shown as ex-
tending beyond, but since this was vir-
tually impassable, the Farnsworths had
been living at the end of a dead-end
road.
We did not risk getting our cars stuck
in this treacherous lane, but: left them at
the main corner. Ira Bennett and Wil-
liam Whitmore, his hired man, were
waiting for us. I could see that they
were considerably shaken. They led us
around to the rear of the house where
the woodshed door was wide open. Snow
had blown in the full width of the door,
‘showing that it had been ajar since the
storm of the previous day.
‘Across the woodshed the door into
the kitchen stood open about eighteen
inches. From this doorway we could
see the kitchen table by the window set
for two. On the wood-burning kitchen
range and oil-burning stove were cook-
ing utensils. There was an air of life
suddenly suspended, cut off in the midst
of daily routine. One felt the inhabitants
of this home might return at any mo-
ment. '
But the house was frigid. The range
was silent and cold. No flame burned
-in the oil stove. Looking beyond, into
the living-room, we could see the body
of Harold Farnsworth stretched out on
his back, his feet extending into the hall.
Examination revealed that he had been
dead for hours.
“Where is Mrs. Farnsworth?” I asked.
The farmer, Bennett, led the way
down the stairs to the cellar. Near
the foot of the stairs, the body of
Mrs. Farnsworth was sprawled on the
cellar floor. An.axe lay close by. I
picked it up so that possible finger-
prints would not be disturbed. There
(Right) Mrs. Bernice Farns-
worth, former court stenogra~
pher at Little Valley, N. Y., was
one of the victims of a mys-
terious crime. Her body was
found in the cellar of her home
(Below) The lonely farm at
the end of the dead-end road
where two inquiring neighbors,
disturbed by the apparent ab-
sence of the owners, made a
startling and tragic discovery
was no sign of a struggle. The scene in
the dim light of the cellar told only too
plainly that Mrs. Farnsworth had met
her. end quickly. Frail though she was,
I knew that she did not lack courage
and she certainly. would have put up 4
fight had she been given the chance.
Leaving the Coroner there I returned
to the living-room. I examined Farns-
worth’s body and found there was a
bullet wound in the front of his head.
The possibility of suicide was immedi-
ately discarded when the side of the
head revealed a second bullet hole and
the back of the head a third.
If the cellar had revealed no signs of
violence or struggle, the same could not
be said of the main floor of the house.
There were two stove pokers on the
floor near by. A white stocking cap a
few feet away had a bullet hole through
it. About six feet from Farnsworth’s
body lay a knife. Near one of the
pokers were two metal boxes of the kind
often used for safekeeping of papers
iaving been unscrewed from. their
sItce where they were completely hid-
fen under the chassis, Remember how
ong we puzzled over how’ it was
‘astened on?
“T tell you, Les, whoever. took that
‘ack off and threw it in the snowbank
<new exactly how it was done and did
t in a hurry with the least amount.
of effort,
“The man who took that rack off
snew how it was done. He had done
t before! And it wasn’t Farnsworth,
»ecause he wouldn't have tossed it in
1 snowdrift!”
Miller waited a minute for what
.e had said to sink in, then added:
an SEX Take A Holiday ?
Read This Amazing Story of
‘EX LIFE in PRISONS
What do prisoners do about sex? What
happens when men and women are de-
prived of sex mates for long periods?
These questions, and many more on the
subject, are answered frankly and fear-
lessly in SEX LIFE in PRISONS—a dar-
ing book written-by J, F, Fishman, former
Federal Inspector of U. 8. Prisons for 18
years. This is the unexpurgated inside
story—taken from official records and ob-
servations never before made public—oft
how prison life leads to sexual degenera-
tion, It tells in candid detail how new
prisoners are “‘converted’’ to strange sex-
ual practices, how hardened “‘yeterans’*
plan brutal sex subterfuges, how prison re-
strictions lead to perversion, suicide, mur-
rt Innumerable shocking facts about a great social
sbiem! Acclaimed as “daring and courageous’ by
ding penologists, 256pages. Reduced to only $1.98.
Tens of thousands of copies of this famous
book have been bought by men and women
who want toknow the truth abont sexual de-
viations. For a full explanation of this vital
subject, in simple language, get a copy of
STRANGE LOVES
By La Forest Potter, M.D.
wit are these strange men who are not completely
4? These women who are not completely women?
ence says every male is partly female, every
ule purtly male! Read what happens when fem-
1¢ qualities assert themselves in a male, or when
e qualities assert themselves in a female. Thou-
ds of people of double sexuality bewilder their
nds and family with strange desires, strange
s. This book, STRANGE LOVES, reveals the
rtling facts science has discovered about this
er situation, It gives case histories of characters
» seek ‘‘sexunl by-paths’—it déscribes the
tinge workings of their minds—it portrays their
uliar lives as they live them day by day. 256
eens PROSTITUTION
EXPOSED!
Here at last is the inside
story of New York's chain-
store prostitution racket
—how it lured the ‘7
different types of pros-
pects” into its net—
how it traded girls
like cattle from
“creep joint’ to
“Oriental House’.
here is the whole
sordid and incredi-
ble (but true!) story
of “big shots” and
From the
Records of the
“madame s,’’
New York “bookers” and
District “monuthpleces.”
THE WHITE
TICKET, named
after the check-off
system uxed in New
York brothels, was
ten by an assistant New York District Attorney
1 official records and experiences never before
ised! A thrilling and startling volume! A shock-
warning! 256 pages, Only $1.98,
Attorney
ahd hhh hhh hhh hk
TIONAL LIBRARY PRESS, Dept. 128
West 42nd St., New York, N. Y.
me in plain wrapper a copy each of the hooks T have
ed. When the package arrives I will Pay postman
4 so ioe with X it
ok or bool are not entirely satisfactory I ma;
o them In 3 days hoa on wil refund my payment
i. (Sent postage free if payment accompanies order,
return privilege.)
SEX LIFE IN PRISONS oO THE WHITE TickET
STRANGE Loves oO ALL 3 for $3.49
Crwseermsscrsbodersvrcusecsseesos Age woceee
(Sold only to adults)
CBB ceccerrencesecevesecsssces Pee ee ereeseees
Corer eeesereees teeeseeceees State .......005
“That hired man, Les, came back
and murdered Farnsworth and his
wife!”’-
“Maybe,” Carlson agreed, “but who
in Hell was the hired man? No one
seems to know.”
“That’s for us to find out,” Miller
said,
He got up and walked to the rack
where his coat and hat hung.
“I’m going over and talk with that
creamery manager again in the morn-
ing,” he said as he methodically bun-
dled himself against the bitter weather
outside and prepared to go home.
“There’s not much more we can do
tonight, so you better catch some sleep.
I’m going to.”
After Miller had gone, Carlson left
instructions with the night turnkey to
call him if any phone messages came in.
Then he went to his quarters to rest
as much as he could before dawn,
knowing that many hours of strenuous
work were ahead of him.
.Morning came and still the case was
as much a mystery as ever. Phone
messages from Sing Sing and Auburn
provided no assistance to Carlson and
Miller, for in both instances the in-
formation was the same they had Te-
ceived from Clinton. During the 24
hours since discovery of the murder,
several suspects had been detained in
Buffalo and neighboring cities and
by State Police along the highways.
The most promising of these was in
Buffalo, 70 miles away, where a suspi-
cious floater was picked up in an all-
night restaurant after he had told of a
long drive through the snow and cold
of the desolate country to the south of
the city. The car he was driving plainly
was not his own and answered the de-
scription of the missing Farnsworth
machine, although it bore different li-
cense plates,
Questioned by police, the man who
said his name was Charles Crawford
failed to give a satisfactory account
of his movements during the week the
murders were committed. So he was
held. Sheriff Carlson made a trip to
Buffalo to question him.
ANOTHER man, a -hitch-hiker, was
picked up by Troopers near Ba-
tavia, New York, as he was attempting
to bum a ride to New York City. When
he said he had been working on a farm
near Little Valley, Carlson was at once
communicated with, and went on to
Batavia. Even closer scrutiny was put
on thé suspect when the farmer he
claimed to have worked for denied he
had employed help for several months.
But the man stoutly denied any knowl-
edge of the crime.
Back in Little Valley, Miller had
arisen early after a night of refreshing
sleep and gone back to the creamery in
Steamburg, New York, where Farns-
worth had delivered his milk each day.
He questioned each employe who
had worked there for the past four
months. One, who remembered that
Farnsworth had brought a_ stranger
with him once during the Fall, was
examined closer than the others.
“You knew this Farnsworth, didn’t
you?” Miller asked.
“Sure I did,’ the man_ replied.
“Tough thing that happened to him and
his wife, wasn’t it?” .
“Yeah,” Miller agreed, “but what we
are trying to find out is who the fellow
was who worked for him last Fall.”
The investigator hoped his shot in
the dark would have some effect on
the creamery hand and he watched his
face closely as the fellow scratched his
head and pondered,
“Well, I do remember seeing him
bring a chap along once or twice when
he came with milk, but it was so long
ago I couldn’t say what he looked like
now. To tell you the truth, I didn’t pay
much attention at all to him. These
farmers bring folks with them right
along, but it ain’t my business to ask
po personal questions about ’em, is
i ”
Miller ignored the thrust. “Isn’t
there something you can remember
about him?” he persisted. “Something
unusua’ that attracted your attention
at the time?”
“Waal, I can’t say there was much
to remember except... any I do re-
call he asked Farnsworth for a match
to light a cigarette with,” the fellow
drawled,
“Was that all?”
“Yep, that’s all I seen and my eye-
sight ain’t bad, either.”
Miller failed to disguise his disap-
pointment at the man’s utter lapse of
memory or lack of ordinary powers of
observation, but he said no more as he
prepared to enter his car and drive
away. Then, in a last desperate at-
tempt to revive some memory of the
atranger in the creamery hand's mind,
he turned and shot another question:
“Say, what did the fellow do with
the match Farnsworth gave him?”
The man seemed on the verge of re-
torting with another wise-crack when
a flash of remembrance overspread his
face.
“Say,” he said, “I remember now.
When the fellow reached out of the car
window and took that match he pulled
off his glove—on his left hand, I think
—and I seen a little tattoo mark on it.
I always wanted a tattoo and I asked
NO MATTER HOW
- LONG YOU'RE
MARRIED..
Married Couples...
YET IT IS TRUE!
A xreat many wives find Httle or no joy in the Intimate
marital embrace, They go through life merely “‘putting up
with” sexual union, but they never experience the true de-
light It can and should be, In many eases, the hushand is at
fault. He does not’ take the trouble to teach his wife, How
ean he, if he is ignorant himself? The result is the wife
rarely COMPLETES the sexual act; this makes her nervous
and Irritable, It hurts her health. The husband, too, 1s not
truly satisfied unless ROTH reach the climax, His wife
may “‘make believe’? she is responding, but nobody is fooled.
Many a husband thinks his wife Is “cold” when; in reality,
the fault tx his, because he does not know how to cause her
to respond to his advances, *
Many a home can be kept together and family life made
happier when the joys of marriage are shared by both,
Avoid Sex Errors—Read
"Sex Technique in Marriage"
Roth parties to the sex act must know exactly what to do,
how to proceed. and when, Don't make the sad mistake of
relying on blind instinet, or just letting nature take its course.
Get a copy today of “Sex Technique in Marriage,” by
Dr. I, E. Hutton, It gives you correct detatled sex informa-
tion, Using plain words, this doctor speaks frankly and fully
about the sex life of husbands and wives. No beating about
the bush, No “hints” but Plain outspoken advice, written so
you ean understand it. You are told how to avoid making sex
mixtakes. You are shown how to make your marriage a happy
one—how both partners can partake equally of all its benefits.
An Opinion You Can Trust!
The Journal of the American Medical Association
calls Dr. Hutton’s hook: “A practical work written in plain
understandable language with a modern point of view. The
author hax certainly been guided hy good judgment as to
What constitutes general medical opinion,”’
Read What Grateful People
Say—then Send for
“Sex Technique in Marriage"
on Money-Back Guarantee—
(Actual letters on file, open for inspection)
Worth Its Weight in Gold _
“T would not take the weight of this book in rold—no,
hot ten times its weight—could I not get another copy. Had
T rend thix hook fourteen years ago I am sure it would have
saved me and my former wife thi years of unhappi
Dr. Hutton tells husbands—
Tow to manage first intercourse.
How to overcome a wife's false modesty and sexual
“trigidity,”” i
Why sex-starvation is often harmful te @ married
man,
The importance of “love play” in arousing the
“sexually slow’ wife.
The dangerous age in men,
The ry Sex organs and reproductive system (illus-
rated
Dr. Hutton tells wives—
Tho right attitude toward sex.
Construction and hygiene of female sex organs (il-
lustrated)
What must be done to achieve sexual satisfaction in
marriage,
Sex intercourse during pregnancy; After Childbirth.
Menstruation and the “Change-of-Life.”
Curable Childlessness,
The Value of Birth Control,
Woman's Hygiene.
Dr. Hutton tells both husbands
and wives—
How to prepare for marriage,
The Bridal Night.
How to prevent honeymoon tragedies,
Who is to blame for “sexual frigidity,””
Importance of Mutual Consideration,
Secrets of “timing” and adjusting to partner.
Difference between sex instinct in men and women.
How often to have sexual intercourse.
Using the sex urge to insure married happiness.
Influence of Age, Sex, Instinct, Health,
In Plain Words
Dr, Hutton tells how to make Sex Union an ald to
happy marriage, real companionship, and better
health! Everybody knows that a happy sex life
helps you to succeed in business and social life. More
than that you are shown how sex can become a strong
inspiring power that lifts you far above the cares
of everyday life!
Why not enjoy the happiness this book has brought
to thousands of joyfully married couples. Read how
it has helped other men and women—then return
the coupon at once! Remember, you do not risk
penny, ‘‘Sex Technique in Marriage” will come to
you In sealed plain wrapper on our FREE trial
offer—See coupon!
Ilustrations of
Male and Female Sex Anatomy
also probably would have inade a great difference in the lives
of my two children and would have saved one of the rottenest
divorce actions the state of Wisconsin has ever had. I eon-
sider this hook one of the greatest aldx to the generation of
tuday and believe every married couple should read this book
as Lam sure it will: enlighten millions,"
B B——., Wisconsin.
Minister Praises Book
“Tam glad to promote the sale of your books, T count it a
privilege to aid in sex education. Dr, Hutton’s book ia fine.”
(Rev.) D—— M——, Illinois
High Endorsement
“Upon due and careful reading of your volume ‘The Sex
Technique in Marriage,’ I feel free.in giving this work my
unqualified endorsement as being a highly scientific treatise.”
Cone
IF YOU
KEEP IT
ND NO MONEY
————
98 RE
MAIL THIS COUPON NOW TO
HEALTHCRAFT, Inc., Dept. 434-A,
247 West 19th St., New York City.
Send me “Sex Technique in Marriage” in - plain
wrapper marked ‘‘Personal.’’ I will pay $1.98 and fe
cents postage on delivery, I MUST BE SATISFIED
or I will return hook within 6 days and you will refund
purehase price. (1 am over 21 years old.)
Would Have Saved Misery
“Could I have read Dr. Hutton’s book it would have
saved me many hours of misery,”
i—— E—, Wash.
Thoroughly Satisfied
“I was thoroughly satisfied with “The Sex Technique
in Marriage’ and would not part with it at any price if
I could not get another, My great regret is that the in-
formation contained therein was not available from any
source to which I had access, at the time of my marriage
thirty years ago, Had it been, much misery, both phys-
ical and mental, might have been spared us, as well as
considerable expense.” Feverely yours,
Doctor Tells His Patients
““E have liked Dr. Hutton’s book, “The Sex Technique
in Marriage,’ so well that I have been recommending
it to various of my patients.”
(Dr.) M K——, M.D., Ohio
AD FIRST
THEN DECIDE!
NAM coccccccccccccvccccccccevesccecesecceces |
CHECK HERE ‘if 'you want ‘to save postage charges, |
prepaid. (Same Money-Back Guarantee.)
oo oe ot oe
55
and his cheeks were
t young man, he had
> he had become a cop
before, he had shot 1
empted to hold up the
Now he was on the
ed in to while away 4
: st yours?” he said to
of the small chairs im
‘ing to get the Londos-
nd muttered under his
said.
witomatic buzzer on the
. Krasnow Jooked out to
ye aperture he saw three
“1 don’t like the looks of those three,” he said, frowning.
“Go out and see what they want, anyhow,” suggested
Goodwin.
Krasnow left the room and went into the main portion
of the store. The three men continued on their way, and,
ignoring his presence, walked behind the counter. Seeing’
that they were making for the cash register, Krasnow,
alarmed, attempted to head them off. A muscular arm
was pushed into his .chest.
“Get in the back room,” the first man in the line sharply
ordered. Underneath the turned-down cap he was wearing,
Krasnow saw dark eyes flashing in a menacing face. Sud-
denly a_ black-barrelled revolver was whipped out and
jammed into Krasnow’s ribs. Acting on this cue, the second
man uncovered a gleaming silver weapon and motioned to
Krasnow to retire to the back of the store.
Krasnow’s face was impassive, but beads of sweat around
his nostrils betrayed his emotion. His upraised hands
trembled.
Meanwhile, Blust had risen from his radio set to look
through the peep-hole. He blanched at what he saw.
“It’s a stick-up,” he whispered hoarsely.
Goodwin's face set in a hard line as he sprang from his
seat and went to the door. He took his revolver from its
holster and raised it to firing position. Krasnow, being
forced backward by the gunmen, was directly in the line
of fire. Goodwin’s finger paused on the trigger.
“Duck, Louis,” he commanded.
KRASNOW threw himself sideways to the floor. In the
split second that intervened, Goodwin opened fire. At
the same instant the two bandit guns roared in unison. Then,
all was still. A tremor ran through Goodwin's tall frame
and the gun in his hand wavered loosely, Blust ran to his
side and as he did so Goodwin lurched against him, un-
able to stand. The three invaders turned and bolted from
the store. Somers, the other clerk, ran after them. Through
the darkness he saw a gray and chromium taxi speed away.
15
—-
16
(Above)
Squad, w
Detective Arthur
ho played an impo’
of the man in the
Master
son of the Radical
art in the capture
checkered coat
Detective
The license plate was 4 jumble of yellow and black, the
figures indiscernible.
ots had passed over him,
Krasnow, after the volley of sh
stumbled to his feet and ran to Goodwin's side. The lat- (Belo
, . ‘. : w) T
ter’s features were frozen fixedly and his eyes were eX- ieee ae 21 |
ressionless. He had been killed instantly by the first bullet New York |
that struck him. win was k
bandits. (
d the Wadsworth which the
awa
KRASNOW seized a_ telephone, calle
Avenue Police Station:
“There's been a stick-up here,” he said, his voice choked
men has been killed.”
with sobs, “and one of your ;
> caid Detective Lieutenant james
“We'll be right over,” sai
34th Squad, who took the call. Within a
Donnelly of the
few minutes he and three others, speeding in a squa
car, were at the scene of the crime, starting their inves-
tigation.
On questioning
tectives learne
store were 0
Krasnow, Blust and Somers the de-
d that the three men who entered the
live-complexianed, iLatin types. One
man, the leader, was described as being about five
feet, two or three inches tall. He had worn a
dark coat and cap. The man who carried the
silver gun was also short and wore a Cap in
addition to a lon overcoat.
iar coat,” related Krasnow,
“A very pecu
“It was brown with large brown squares
like a checkerboard.” -
As for the third man, the witnesses agreed
that he appeared to be of the same nation-
ality as the others, but none could recall
any distingwisnie characteristics.
hile the police were questioning ; Depu-
ty Chief Medical Examiner Thomas A.
arrose Nitines
+
ga PIULUGI
The Man in the Checkered Coat 17
slack, the
im,
oe at- (Below) The exterior of the drug ih
xt store at 2196 Amsterdam Avenue,
_were New York City, where Officer Good-
first bullet win was killed by three phantom
bandits. (Right) The taxicab in
which the killers made their get-
W adsworth away after the killing
| oice choked
| da.”
nant james
i). Within a
in a squad
their inves-
ners the de-
) entered the
types. One
ng about five
had worn a
o carried the
ore a cap im
ited Krasnow,
yrown squares
itnesses agreed
ie same nation-
ne could recall
istics.
stioning; Depu-
er Thomas
Gonzales arrived to perform
the preliminary examination of
the deceased. Goodwin was lying
huddled on the floor of the prescrip-
tion room. His right hand clutched his
service revolver. Clad in a gray oxford
overcoat and blue serge suit, the body was still
warm.
There was blood on the floor which had trickled
from a wound in the left forehead, just above the
curve of the eyebrow. Gonzales found that the
bullet had passed through the brain and had crashed
? ae into the rear wall of the skull, fracturing it. Here a
es : ‘ 38 caliber bullet was found. The nose of the pellet
sing BIOLUGic————____ was flattened and it had broken along the sides.
i BY COP LOSES LIFE IN HEIGHTS HOLD-UP
Pe : TO AVOID SHOOTING OF STORE OWNER
read slim, dark, Detective, Aristides Ramos of the
Radical Squad as he picked up a Harlem paper
from the news stand the next morning. His eyes
F uARoWADE
rpyeaty skimmed down the page—‘Patrolman James R.
Goodwin . . . assailants reported to be of dark,
foreign type . . . one carried silver gun . . . wore
brown checkered overcoat .. . police baffled . . .”
RAMOS folded the paper under his arm.
“Might be in my line,” he mused as he walked
down the street to the subway.
Dark-complexioned, speaking Spanish fluently
from childhood, Ramos lived in the foreign quarter
of New York where he specialized in under-cover
work among criminal aliens. Only the night before
there had been a killing in his own district. At
eleven-thirty, a man known as Hortal or El Catalan,
had been found in a tenement flat at 56 East 113th
Street, shot through the heart. No witnesses had
‘ been located and the apartment was bare of clues.
Ramos continued on his way down the street,
passing a second-hand furniture store on the corner.
‘As he went by, swarthy Juan Lopez, the proprietor,
seized him by the arm, motioned for him to come
inside. (Continued on page 53)
a |
t
LOPEZ, Antenie (His), elec. NY (NY) May 25, 1933
7
> MAN In
(Left) Pat
ee after the
ie points
rolman James R. |
Goodwin. ‘Duck, Louis,” he
shouted, and pushed his #
friend aside. Two bandit &
guns roared and Goodwin 2
fell to the ground.
Interior of the drug store }
Arrow
to the officer’s dead
body. (Extreme right) De-
tective Aristides Ramos, with
one of the guns he discovered
hidden in a bathroom
(Right)
m Ye eyo ai a
x
T was half past ten on the night of February 15th, room. It was a sharp night outside and his cheeks were “T dor
1932. In the prescription department of the drug store red with the cold. A tall. clean-cut young man, he had “Go «
at 2196 Amsterdam Avenue, New York City, were two been a friend of Krasnow’s ever since he had become a cop Goodwir
clerks, Walter Blust and Edward Somers, and the on the beat. Only thirteen months before, he had shot it Krasn:
owner, Louis Krasnow. out with three bandits who had attempted to hold up the of the si
Blust, perched on a high stool, was tinkering with a small — store, and had killed one of them. Now he was on the ignoring
radio set on the counter in front of him. From the loud- twelve-to-eight tour and had dropped in to while away a that the
speaker there issued a series of squawks and squeals as he few hours before getting into uniform. alarmed,
twisted the dials. Krasnow, busy, compounding a cough “What's the matter with that set of yours?” he said to was pus!
mixture, was standing near by. Through the din he heard Blust as he seated himself on one of the small chairs in Get i
the slam of the front door. the room. “I thought you were going to get the Londos- ordered.
“See who it is, Eddie,” he called to Somers. McMillin match tonight.” Krasnow
Somers dropped the paper he was reading and went {to Blust shrugged his shoulders and muttered under his denly a
a peep-hole in the partition which separated the prescrip- breath. jammed
tion room from the rest of the store. He turned away with “T’ll get it sooner OF jater,” he said. man unc
a grin. While they were talking. the automatic buzzer on the Krasnow
“1s your friend, Officer Goodwin,” he said. front door sounded and this time Krasnow looked out to _Krasn
see who had entered. Through the aperture he saw three his nost
trembled
Krasnow smi
“Hello, fellows.” said Goodwin as
UA
‘led and went on with his mixing.
he strode into the men come into the
Fe. (CIS
store, single file
ase Oa Vo 0 9
BLO LL" y W td
®
Mary Jane Cassidy, the beautiful Nev
ARLING, you’ve been drinking
too much!” said pretty Mary
Jane Cassidy. Mary Jane was
uking to her escort, Harry Vance
faxwell, as he turned out the
eadlights of the new Buick cabri-
let. It was 5:10 A.M., on an early
unday morning (to be exact May
th, 1941). The car was Parked
cross the street from the exclu-
ve Guilford Apartments on East
‘st Street, near Madison Avenue,
le expensive residential section of
le “upper East side” in New York
ty. The streets were still dark, al-
‘ough it was only a few minutes
itil dawn, as the young couple
abraced cach other for the last
ne. Harry had known Mary Jane
r the better part of a year. As
| advertising man, he had known
any beautiful models such as
iry Jane but during the last few
onths he had become increas-
sly enamoured with this charm-
; girl with the delicate lips and
ge, heavy-lidded, blue eyes. Ev-
‘thing about her attracted him,
d, although the day had been
of celebration, his affection
v York City clothing model who was Harry Maxwell’s
notorious Manhattan “Love-Larceny” bandits.
By WILLIAM NEDDAM
for the beautiful blonde was ob-
vious. As a wealthy man, he was
used to getting whatever he wanted
and although Mary Jane realized
that too much drinking made him
act like a spoiled child, still, he
was amusing, and, he had always
been considerate of her. Once again
he embraced her as they bade each
other “goodnight” with a tender,
engaging and passionate kiss.
The doors of the car flew open.
Mary Jane gasped with surprise as
two dark figures crowded into the
Single-seated car, Dismayed and
bewildered, she attempted to sit
upright as she heard her escort
frowl angrily at the man crowding
into the other side of the car.
Harry Maxwell, in his surprised
anger, raised his arm and struck
out at the unknown assailant. It
was a fatal mistake.
There was a short, sharp crack
like the smack of a cap-pistol.
Then, without apparent reason, the
two dark figures disappeared leav-
ing the car doors open as they
fled. A moment later, Mary Jane
heard the roar of a motor as the
} oY ae
GY)
men who had attacked them dis-
appeared. Why had they run away
SO quickly? What had been the ob-
ject of the attack in the first place?
Mary Jane reached down and Pick-
ed up her purse from the floor of
the car. It was untouched, un-
opened. Could the object of the
attack then be robbery .. .? Harry
Maxwell was slumped over the
wheel of the car. She spoke to
him and shook him. He fell back
on the seat. Perhaps, thought Mary
Jane, the sudden surprise and the
fact that their visitors had caught
them unaware had been too much
for him. After all, he had been
drinking heavily and an emotional
upset such as they had experienced
might cause any man to faint. She
decided to drive him to his apart-
ment on East 73rd Street, . eight
blocks away. Once he was home
she could call a doctor. Maxwell
was a big man, over six feet tall,
and proportionately well-built, Us-
ing all of her desperate strength,
Mary Jane was unable to move his
body from beneath the wheel of the
car. It was beginning to get light
companion on the night that h
was foully murdered by one of the
with the first early morning sun
as she ran to the corner and hailed
a taxicab. As the cab came to a
halt, she called to the cabby and
asked him to help her get Mr.
Maxwell to his home on East 73rd
Street. The cabby, John Fisichello,
said that they had better hurry
and get the big man to a doctor.
The two moved the sportsman’s
inert form from beneath the steer-
ing wheel of the Buick and wrap-
ped him in a silken quilt. Then
the blonde model drove to Max-
well’s beautiful garden apartment
on East 73rd Street. Little did Mary
Jane Cassidy realize that the man
who sat beside her as she drove
was a corpse! Harry Vance Maxwell
was dead! .
John Fisichello followed the girl
as she drove the car to East 73rd
Street. One look at Maxwell had
convinced him that the man was
dead. He went out and returned
with Patrolman John G. Murray,
who took charge of the situation
until a City Hospital Ambulance
arrived.
Rigor mortis was evident as the
ambulance surgeon examined Max-
well. Since there was no sign of
blood or any visible wounds or
lacerations, and, realizing the ex-
cited condition of the victim at
the time of his death, the ambu-
lance surgeon attributed the demise
to heart-failure. An inspection of
the dead man’s pockets disclosed
that he had $1.06 in cash on him,
having spent his money at the vari-
ous bars and night-clubs the pleas-
ure seeking young couple had
visited that night. This, then, was
the end of their hours of gayety!
The beautiful blonde model, shock-
ed and startled by the unforeseen
turn of events was taken into.
custody and remanded to the East
67th Street Police Station where
Deputy-Inspector Patrick Kenny
and Detective Lieutenant Vincent
Kiernan questioned her about the
events leading to the human tra-
gedy. With careful questions and
clever grilling, the two officers
gradually uncovered the facts of
Mary Jane Cassidy’s relationship
with the wealthy playboy and thus
brought to light the bits of ev-
idence which established this ho-
micide as the culminating episode
in a series of “Love-Larceny”
crimes that have continued to
shock polite society in New York
for the past five years. Although
Mary Jane Cassidy did not realize
it, she and Harry Vance Maxwell
were merely two more victims of
an organized gang of hold-up men
who have been preying on unsus-
pecting cafe society in Metropolitan
New York ever since the days of
prohibition.
The story which Mary Jane told
the police about her movements
on the night of the crime with
Maxwell is as follows:
ON SATURDAY afternoon, after
a few drinks, Mary Jane and
the advertising executive decided
to drive to New Jersey..The popu-
larity and honesty of the beautiful
girl are attested by the fact that
the car in which they drove was
loaned to her by another gentle-
man friend, Fielding Robinson, who
let her use his car while he was
out of the city on a trip. At any
rate, Mary Jane and Harry had
driven to New Jersey that after-
noon where they visited with
Harry’s sister, Mrs. Kleinhaus of
Park Street, Newark. After a few
cocktails and dinner at the Klein-
haus residence, the happy young
people drove out to Springfield,
New Jersey where they visited with
James Eben, well-known sports-
writer for the Newark Evening
News. At some time during the eve-
ning the young socialites dropped
into the Moresque, one of New
Jersey’s most popular night-spots.
Then, their visiting done and feel-
ing gay as a result of their after-
noon and evening of merry-mak-
ing, they drove back across the
Hudson River to New York, arriv-
ing at about midnight at the El
Morocco, one of fashionable Man-
hattan’s most exclusive and most
expensive rendezvous. By this time,
Harry Maxwell was quite tipsy and
as they continued to drink, Mary
Jane cautioned him about the fact
- that it would be dangerous to drive
unless he did something to sober
himself. Realizing his condition,
she carefully refrained from drink-
ing too much herself. Pointing out
that it was after 4:00. A.M. she
teased Maxwell into paying the
checque so that they could leave.
Staggering out of El Morocco, Harry
Maxwell laughed boisterously as
the doorman. had the car brought
beneath the awning. Then, as Mary
Jane urged him, he fell into the
car, put himself behind the wheel,
and, promising to take his pretty
blonde companion home, drove up
Park Avenue towards. 81st Street,
where he turned the corner and
parked for a few minutes before
they said “goodnight”. Little did
Harry Maxwell realize that as he
drove the shiny, big Buick away
from the night club, a smaller car
was following him. When he parked
the Buick on 81st Street, this auto-
mobile drew silently up to the curb.
With light extinguished, the un-
known occupants waited patiently
as they saw the advertising man
put his arm around Mary Jane.
Then, as the sportsman turned out
the light of the Buick, two ominous
figures silently alighted from the
smaller car and crept towards their
unsuspecting victims. This was the
drama which Deputy Inspector
Patrick Kenny and Detective Lieu-
tenant Vincent Kiernan pieced to-
gether as they bombarded pretty
Mary Jane Cassidy with questions.
When Mary Jane told of hearing
the sharp report which preceded
the hasty disappearance of her un-
known assailants, Lieutenant Kier-
nan decided that it was time to
call the attention of Deputy Chie:
Medical Examiner Benjamin M
Vance to the case. When he hearc
Lieutenant Kiernan’s report, Dr
Vance conducted an immediate au-
topsy.
It revealed that Harry V. Max-
well had been shot to death! There
were no signs of blood in the cai
or on his body, yet a .38 slug, fired
at close range, had pierced his
heart and both lungs! Passing
through his body from left to right
the slug had finally lodged ttselt
just beneath the flesh under the
right breast. As Inspector Kenny
pointed out, the bullet must have
been fired by a man standing out-
side of the car, to the left of the
steering wheel, from a_ revolver
equipped with a silencer! The sharp
crack mentioned by Mary Jane
Cassidy described perfectly the
noise made by firing a small gun,
deadened by a Maxim Silencer
Now the problem was to find the
killer who would perpetrate this
most inhuman and vicious brand
of homicide.
Police in the larger cities of the
United States are familiar with a
peculiar type of “hold-up” which
exists wherever you have expensive
night clubs catering to an exclu-
sive, socially prominent clientele
The methods employed by the or-
ganized hoodlums who deal in this
brand of highway robbery usually
follow a set pattern. On the other
hand, the police find it difficult to
check this vicious type of crime
because the victims seldom report
them to police. This is because the
large majority of night club pa-
Harry Maxwell, noted sportsman and advertising executive, lies slumped over in death, the victim of New York's “Love-Larceny” bandits.
Be bat,
‘ ce
|
;
{\
ate
Sig
ne
MARDAVICH, Morris, wh, elec. NY P (NY) March 5, 1942
samt
— |
mai
z
\ %
SHE RUBBED ELBOWS WITH DEATH
Pretty Mary Jane Cassidy, chic blonde model, enjoyed an eve-
ning in the night clubs with advertising executive Harry V.
Maxwell. As they sat in a parked automobile on Manhattan’s
swank East Side a gunman shot and killed Maxwell. Morris
Mardavich was arrested, confessed the crime.
14
FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE, July, 1942
*
JuLy, 194
MARDAVICH, Morris, white, elec. NY (NY) March
HIS F
UTS)
hou
able
~ pac
twe
seco
The taxi
vertible a
blanket o
- The yo
at the h
then stare
- his breatl
“IT don
muttered
right thin
Maybe I ¢
kind of tr
trying to
Just th:
stone ope
and breat
thick gol
ghoulders
came hur
“How is
with hyst
“Ain’t 1
gloomily.
tor?”
“Yes, o)
“His room
and I mad
too. I’m
think he’s
The cab
then shru;
- “I dun
ambulance
I hope we
ing him h
straight to
wait right
coupla mi
The gi
climbed in
around the
He had
he sighted
“Hey, o
“there’s so
Street. H
After id
Fisichello,
eer eta”, eu wae eas, , "3 Se Np > had been
: en sab ad. taht MRL eee Le r 6 . } ne i by a girl am
. isan <> fainted af
and asked
the uncons
NOT A PERSON Cat
was on the dark streets at that hou: of ee y P ’. so that the
the morning. Then, when a taxi appeared f, = Patrolm:
the model leaped from the car, hailed it. mB 3 ‘We'll kno
“ ‘ * the man as
rives. All
, 7 i Patrolmz
SCARS ON HIS FACE . — Sa ; —— 7
led detectives to the arrest of hoodlum om, Bi y OE hastily tuc
Morris Mardavich, top right. His chum, a a with her.
Vincent “Timmy” Morgano, center, gave Ee
up at D. A.’s office, naming Frank Alascia,
circle, as the third man of murder group.
BEADQUARTERS DETECTIVE,
February, 1942,
“at the house, 136
HIS FACE WAS A DEATH’S HEAD—AND AN AD FOR THE COPS
UTSIDE .a swank brownstone |
house on New York’s fashion-
able East Sidé a cab- driver
~paced uneasily up and down be-
tween a parked taxi and a
second car, a bright ‘convertible.
The taxi was empty. In _the con-
vertible a man lay wrapped in a heavy
blanket on the front seat.
The young cabbie peered anxiously
ast 73rd Street,
then stared at the man who lay so still
-his breathing could not be discerned.
the cab driver -
“I don’t ow,”
‘muttered to himself, “if I done the
right thing. That guy is awful quiet:
Maybe I got myself mixed up in some
kind of trouble ... It’s what I get for
trying to help out that blonde.”
Just then the door of the brown-
‘stone opened and the blonde, tearful
_and breathless, but beautiful with her
thick golden hair swinging to her
shoulders above a smart tweed suit,
came hurrying out to the street. .
“How is he?” Her voice was shrill
with hysteria. -
'-“Ain’t moved,” replied the cabbie
gloomily. “Did you send for a doc-
tor?” . .
“Yes, oh, yes,”. the girl answered.
“His roommate phoned for his doctor
and I made him call for an ambulance,
* too. I’m so frightened. You don’t
think he’s—?” : :
The cabbie regarded her curiously,
then shrugged.
“but that
‘I dunno,” he said,
‘ambulance call will bring the cops.
I hope we done the right thing bring-
ing him here instead of driving him
straight toa doctor. Listen, lady, you
wait right here. I’ll be back in a
coupla minutes.”
The girl nodded. The driver
_ climbed into his cab and drove swiftly
around the corner.
He had gone only two blocks when
he sighted a blue uniform.
“Hey, officer,” the driver - hailed,
“there’s something funny up on 73rd
Street. Hop in.” .
After identifying himself as John
Fisichello, the hackie related how he
had been hailed on East 81st Street
by a girl who told him her escort had
,
fainted after an attempted stickup,
and asked him to drive the car with:
the unconscious man in it to his house
on East 73d Street. , This he refused
to do, but he did move the man over
so that the girl could get at the wheel.
Patrolman John Murray nodded.
“We'll know what’s the matter with
the man as soon as the ambulance ar-
rives. All right, pull up.” ‘
Patrolman Murray approached the
blonde who stood beside the conver-
tible. A man dressed. in pajamas
hastily tucked into his trousers was
with her.
tell me—”
by an ambulance siren. The ambu-
lance screeched aromnd the corner
and slid to a stop before the waiting
group. A white coated young intern
was quickly at work over the quiet
man lying in the car. :
finished. The physician meee his
case shut,
. from his ears, stepped out of the car.
-the girl and the pajama clad man.
mate,” said the man in pajamas. “Is
he—”
‘
Kate:
TERROR
The blonde collajised in Kaiser’s
arms.
“That his wife?” asked the doctor.
“A. friend,” answered: Kaiser who,
was holding the dazed girl. “The man
is Harry Maxwell. I’d better take her
inside, I guess.”
‘Pll just come along with you,”
Patrolman Murray said. “Doc, a radio
car should be along any minute. You
can report to them. You, Fisichello,
wait around. We’ll be wanting to see
you.” é o
Before Kaiser and Patrolman Mur-
ray had got the sobbing blonde inside
a radio car pulled up. A police
photographer and newsmen arrived a
few minutes later. Photographs of the
body sprawled on the seat next to the
“Now, miss,» Murray began, “just
Murray’s first question was drowned
He was_no sooner begun than
yanked his stethoscope
“Relatives?” he motioned toward
Tm Howard ‘Kaiser, his room-:
>
“This man’s dead,” said the intern.
\ -~
°
SHE HELD HiM———
- for a while, waiting for Maxwell
to regain consciousness, but the
. Tich ad man didn’t open his eyes.
TT TRI; TNR hae
——
pg gh SE AG NN Al PS
driver’s were made, and the ambu-
lance crew awaited orders to remove
the body for an autopsy.
It was now 5:30:a. m., Sunday, May
4, 1941.
“Who is he? How’d it happen? Who’s
the girl?” Reporters shot their ques-:
tions at Detectives Bill Jones and John
Moran, who ‘had arrived a moment
after the patrol car.
“His name’s Maxwell,” a detective
said, “Harry V. Maxwell. Couple of .
guys tried to stick ’em up and Max-
well seems to have had,a heart attack.
We don’t know a thing about the girl.”
The name caused a stir among the
newshawks. ;
“If it’s Harry Vance Maxwell,” one
of them commented, “he’s the heir to
the advertising fortune. Is the girl his
wife? The Harry Maxwell of the ads
isn’t married.” y
Jones and Moran _ instructed the:
‘ambulance crew to remove the body
to Bellevue Hospital where an-autopsy
would be. performed. Then they en-
tered the house, where Maxwell had
lived with his friend, Kaiser. In afew
minutes they came out accompanied
by the blonde girl, and with reporters
following, drove to the East 67th
Street police station.
told Jones and Moran that she was
Mary Jane. Cassidy, 22, a millinery
model at the chic Nicole de Paris shop-
Mary Jane lived at 151 East 8lst
Street. -
‘He just seemed to faint,” Mary
Jane said. “He didn’t seem sick. You
see, when he slumped I didn’t know
what was wrong, so—”
“Now, Miss Cassidy,” Jones soothed
the nervous girl, “could you'just begin
at the beginning, please?”
“Of course., I'll try to tell you just
how. it happened. We were’ parked
across the street from the building
where I live, and we’d been there for
[sia 3 the station house, the girl.
a while saying good night. Suddenly,
the doors on both sides of the car were
jerked open. Two men squeezed in,
one beside me and one next to Harry.
Harry muttered something. I didn’t
see what was Reppening because I
was staring at the man who had
squeezed in next to me. Harry was
at the wheel.”
“Can you describe the men?”
“IT can ‘describe the one who was
on my side of the car. He was dark,
about average height, a sort of bump
in his nose. I can’t remember the
other one.” .
“What did you do then?” Jones
asked.
““T didn’t do a thing. I heard Harry
curse, then there was a little poppin
sound like the noise a cap pisto
makes. I felt Harry slump beside me.”
What happened in the next minute,
Mary Jane said, ‘puzzled her --more
than the intrusion of the two stickup
men. Her purse, lying beside her on,
DEATH STOOD NEAR———
while beautiful Mary Jane Cassidy, 22,
at left, said good night to her escort,
Harry V. Maxwell, in an auto parked on
E. Sist Street. Above, Maxwell’s body
slumps on car seat after the shooting.
‘THE CAR
were sudd
twe men ci
to the pre
‘squeezed ji:
car passe
Then, }
‘her comp
“IT bega
ened an
eaned 0.
unconscic
he was v
but I thoi
“What
_, “You s
ing. I he
for him -
didn’t see
he’d had
like that,
was to ge
I tried tc
drive the
z good night. Suddenly,
oth sides of the car were -|
Two men squeézed in,.
and one next to Harry.
ed something. I didn’t ©
3 happening because I
at the man who had
ext to me. Harry was
escribe the men?”
‘tribe the one who was
the car. . He was dark,
» height, a sort of bump
I can’t remember the
you do then?” Jones
a thing. I heard Harry
ere was a little poppin
he noise a cap pisto
Jarry slump beside me.”
sned in the next minute,
said, ‘puzzled her ~-more
asion of the two stickup
irse, lying beside her on,
OD NEAR——
ul Mary Jane Cassidy, 22,
good night to her escort,
xwell, in an auto parked on
#. Above, Maxwell’s body
r seat after the shooting.
THE CAR DOORS——
were suddenly yanked open;
two men crowded in, one next
to the pretty girl, the other
squeezed in at Maxwell’s side.
the seat, was untouched. No attempt
was made, she said, to search Max-
well’s pockets.
“Just as suddenly. as they appeared,” ~
the girl continued, “the two men
simply disappeared. The man on
Harry’s side slammed the door as he
got out.. I looked back and saw them
climb into a car behind us down the
block. I couldn’t get the number but
I got one figure and the letter as the
car passed me.” :
Then, Mary Jane said, she turhed to
her companion.
“I began to ask him what had hap-
ened and when he didn’t answer I
eaned over him. I saw that he was
unconscious, his eyes were closed and
he was very pale. He moaned a lot
but I thought he had only fainted.”
“What did you do then.”
_. “You see, I had no idea he was dy-
ing. I held him for a while, waiting
for him‘ to become conscious but he
didn’t seem to open his eyes. I thought
he’d had a heart attack or something
like that, so I decided the best thing
was to get him home and get a doctor.
I tried to move him over so I could
drive the car to his place.”
But Mary Jane, though she is ex-
| quisitely built and strong for her size,
could not move the heavy, inert man.
Maxwell, who was 42, was well over
six feet tall and weighed close to 200:
pounds.
“I got more and more frightened,”
Mary Jane continued. “It was late
and there wasn’t a soul in the streets.
When I saw a: taxi I jumped: out and
hailed it. I told the-cabbie my friend
had fainted and I wanted to get him
to his home. I asked him to take the
ear to Harry’s home but he refused.
“He said he would follow me in his
cab if I would drive the car. He
helped mé move Harry so I could get
at the wheel.-After we moved him I
found a blanket in’the back of the car -
and wrapped it around him. That
was all I could think of—to try to
keep him warm and to get him to a
doctor.”
When the two cars arrived at 136
East 73rd Street, Maxwell’s home, the
cab. driver decided against trying to
help the girl get the unconscious man
inside. .
“The driver said we’d better not try
to move him. He was awfully white
and he didn’t move at all. The driver
waited outside and I went in and woke
Howard Kaiser, Harry’s roommate.”
Mary Jane then explained the situ-
ation to Kaiser, who phoned Maxwell’s
personal physician. Then, at Mary
Jane’s pleas for speed, also called for
an ambulance.
Jones and Moran next questioned
Fisichello, the cab driver. Fisichello’s
story confirmed the girl’s insofar as it
concerned him.
| sultation. While they had been
questioning Mary Jane and Fisi-
chello, the Maxwell family had been
reached by Detective Watkins. R. C.
Maxwell, father of the dead man, was
expected at the station house and
information about Harry Maxwell was
already available.
Harry Vance Maxwell, wealthy heir
to a vast fortune made in outdoor
advertising — billboards carry his
father’s name across the highways of
the nation—had been twice married
to prominent sportswomen, and each
marriage had ended in divorce. Until
his death (Continued on page 54)
aj sutta and Moran held a brief con-
In Copyright - Educational Use Permitted