New York, L, 1874-1991, Undated

“Light gray, I believe. Naturally I didn’t see him well.” He poised his pencil in the air and looked at the girl.

“And hat?” “Anything else you noticed about him.”
“No hat—his hair was curly.” “He had black and white sport shoes.”
“About how old did he look ?” Drake scribbled another line and snapped his notebook shut.
“Young, not more than 24.” “Now tell me something about your father’s affairs. What
“And how big was he?” business was he in?”
The girl shrugged. “He was smaller than you and thinner.” “He owns a garage at 75 First avenue in Manhattan.”
Drake stood up. “Show me,” he said. The girl stood in front “Any trouble with the men?”
of him, frowned, then put her hand on a level with Drake’s “No, most of them have been there for years. We never had
eyebrows. She said: “This tall.” Then she placed her two a strike and everyone seemed satisfied.”
hands near the points of the detective’s shoulders. ‘And about “Well,” said Drake, “9 o’clock in the morning is an odd time
this broad.” for murder. It suggests careful planning. It seems as though
Drake’s pencil went to his book. “That would make him five someone with a grudge against your father ambushed him.”
feet, six inches tall and weigh about 140 pounds.” [Continued on page 71]

On the corner pictured at left, police captured the

slayer. H askowitz, above, son of the victim,

aided police by turning over an extortion letter that
brought the killer to justice.

13

eg aguas

and loan savings
she was his wife.
was turned down

ice took a picture
r, issued a theft
nplaint of Mrs.
| these, together
the case, to the
it they wanted to
s. Hahn actually
whether the aged
in the Ohio city,
suspect could be
- charge pending
h that might turn

: fugitive warrant
tention of Lieut.
ce the homicide
ig entirely under
on of the “Angel
ore had no pre-
vhen he attended
up” in Cincinnati
lays after Mrs.
icinnati had been

d there would be
ary about that
usual drunken

eteers, and shuf- ~°

onde woman,
1erous curves
yut under the

the clerk pro-
Also known as
Marie Fisher.
rings for grand

to his feet and
yes, acting ‘chief

suspect of being
old his superior.
up on her for
as picked up on
as she got back
‘estion her about
iaybe we finally
e something on

her up with an-

in Colorado,”
ng out a letter
zh D. Harper of
‘put a few ques-

len-haired Anna
nan office with

Schattle, ve-
anocence of any

‘utcome of
Vas it pos-
Hahn was
monstrous
she stood
d? Could
ath behind
y? Don’t
-evelations
ax of this
in the
Daring
*, on sale
ry 9.
5

nents anette

Death Threat Betrayal

[Continued from page 13]

The girl shook her head sorrowfully.
“My father was kind to everybody. He
had no enemies.”

“All right,” said the detective. “We'll
see what we can find out.”

He went to the cellar and found As-
sistant Medical Examiner George W.
Ruger kneeling beside the body.

The doctor looked up inquiringly. See-
ing Drake’s familiar figure, he motioned
for him to approach.

“Look at this,” he said.

Drake bent over. The doctor lifted
Saskowitz’s right arm. As it rose off
the floor the detective saw the silvery
gleam of a watch which had been con-
cealed beneath the arm.

Drake took out a pocket handkerchief,
shielded his fingers and picked up the
watch. It was a wrist model with a metal
strap.

HE detective was a methodical worker,

so when Doctor Ruger brought down
Saskowitz’s. arm, he placed the metal
Strap across the dead man’s wrist. He
tried to close the catch but didn’t succeed.
It was much too short to have been worn
by Saskowitz.

“Our curly-headed friend forgot some-
thing,” said Drake as he examined the
watch. On its face was stamped a trade-
mark. While it shone brightly, Drake
saw that it was of cheap manufacture and
hence would be difficult to trace,

There were no initials on it—nothing
that gave a clue to its ownership. Drake
took out a penknife and on the back of
the case scratched— W. A. D. 8/12/33—
his initials and the date.

When Estelle Saskowitz failed to
identify the watch as her father’s, Drake

was certain he had uncovered a valuable .

clue,

Shortly after 9:30 a. m., Detective
Harry Lichtblau, a man of many years
experience in murder investigations, ar-
rived. With pencil and paper he began
to make a sketch of the house and sur-
rounding grounds, noting every detail
including the location of garbage cans
and ash barrels.

He was sketching the front of the house
when Detective Drake joined him. Both
officers then began a general search of
the sidewalks, looking for anything the
fleeing man might have dropped. In the
center of the street was a parkway from
which the thoroughfare derived its name.
Benches and shade trees made it an in-
viting spot and the officers made a careful
survey of the sector in front of the
Saskowitz home.

When they came to one of the benches
Opposite they saw lying on the gravel
walk a sheet of newspaper. It was part

of a morning metropolitan edition and motive. BY SHOPWORK-NOTBY BOOKS

while there seemed nothing exceptional . Emergency squad 12. was called and Wil Finance Your Training!

about it, Detective Drake picked it up. searched every ash barrel and sewer open- pice reDerG der Jobs, i Broadcasting, Talking

As he did so he saw something which ing in the neighborhood in an effort to Peed ety AOR et

made him nudge Lichtblau. ; find the murder gun. Nothing developed. learns if coupon for BIG EE RADIO. and TELE:
“Look here,” he said pointing to center Then the case settled down to routine | VISION BOOK,andmy!"Pay-Tul ep poral

of the sheet. Lichtblau saw a narrow slit police work. Estelle Saskowitz spent 1 H.C, LEWIS, President, Radio Division,

cut through the paper. hours at the rogues gallery searching for ‘ 5008. Pauline Ste Dove 28-9C, Chicago, mt.
Drake turned toward the house and the likeness of the curly-haired man. 2 Dept Mr, Lewisr Send me your big Free Radio Book

saw that the bench was in a direct line Dozens of albums were examined but ¥ about your “Pay Altes Graduation? prom

with the alleyway. He sat down on the _ She could not pick out his face from the H

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and looked through the slit. The front criminals. T Address. ..ssecscccessessssssscececcecssaeeness

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were in a direct line of vision. away at his job of tracing the wristwatch:  Hiseis Kad LCOS LE RA Meee Pe tccwor tne

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“Just what I thought,” said Drake.
“Somebody was lying in wait for the old
man. He probably sat here screened by
the paper until he saw him come out of
the house and go down cellar.”

“Maybe somebody saw the fellow sit-.

ting here,” suggested Lichtblau.

Accordingly the detectives began to
question neighbors, Had they. seen a
man with a newspaper on the bench
earlier in the morning?

Not until they came to a housemaid for
a family living next door to the Sasko-
witz’s did they get results. The maid
paused in her housework long enough to
tell them she had noticed a man across
the way shortly before 9 o’clock. After
that he disappeared.

“Fe had no hat and his hair was curly.
He had ona gray suit and black and white
shoes.”

“That’s our man,” said Detective
Drake. “Saskowitz’s daughter spotted
him running down the alley after the
shooting.”

But who was the curly-haired man and
what had brought him to the crime?

“We've got to get down to motive,”
said Detective Drake. “And that’s going
to be a job.”

Back to the cellar went the officers.
They found the assistant medical ex-
aminer preparing to leave.

“I’ve sorted out his effects for you,”
said Doctor Ruger, pointing to a pile of
objects stacked neatly against the wall.

- HANKS, Doc,” said Drake. He

went to the wall and made a note of
what was there. From the man’s body
had been taken a diamond ring, a platinum
cased watch, a silver chain with a pearl
set at the end, two silver cufflinks, five
keys, four dollar bills, 25 cents in change
and a collar button.

Drake looked at the jewelry, then
turned to Lichtblau:

“That seems to put robbery out of the
picture but what does it give us?”

In an: effort to find the answer, the
detectives turned to a search of Sasko-
witz’s private correspondence. In a desk
drawer was a mass of letters collected for
a year. The officers went through them
but found mostly bills for gas and elec-
tricity and tax notices,

When they asked Estelle Saskowitz
for information she suggested that they
talk to her brother, Harry, who knew
ae about her father’s affairs than she

id,

Harry Saskowitz was manager of the
family garage. He came over to Brook-
lyn when word reached him of the shoot-
ing and was deeply shocked by his father’s
death, He, too, was at a loss to describe a

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found beneath Saskowitz’s body. Through
the case number he found it had been one
of a consignment shipped by a watch
company to a concern in Greenpoint. At
Greenpoint he was told the manufacturer
had sold the watches to a clothing com-
pany on Smith street.

“We do only a cash business and we
have no record of the sale of these
watches,” said the manager of the store.

And there the trail seemed to end.

While murder investigations never are
closed, they often lie dormant. Police
practice is to work intensively for the first
72 hours after a crime breaks, tracking
down every lead and clue while it still is
“hot.” At the end of that time, the de-
tectives know whether or not they are
in a position to solve the mystery. If
clues begin to fail, the reports become a
headache to commanding officers who
study them and attempt to figure out
ways and means of continuing the investi-
gations successfully.

Two years were to pass before the
name Saskowitz was again a topic of
conversation in police circles.

On June 10, 1935, a phone call came
in to the 70th squad where Detective
Drake was stationed.

“This is Harry Saskowitz,” said a
man’s voice. “Do you remember me?”

“I sure do,” said Detective Drake.
“What’s on your mind?”

“You'd better come over to my place
right away. I need some advice.”

“Tll be right over,” said Drake.

The detective found Harry Saskowitz
in the office of his garage on First avenue.

The man was pacing the floor nervously -

and greeted Drake with a look of relief.

He went to his desk and picked up a
letter.

“Look at this,” he said. “I got it this
morning in the first mail.”

Drake scrutinized the letter. It was
printed in crude scrawling characters.

“Mr. Saskowitz,” it read. ‘This is
your first warning. If you are smart you
will do as you are told. Don’t make the
same mistake your father did.” Drake
shot Saskowitz a look and resumed read-
ing. “We want $10,000 or you will get
killed just like your father—only you
won’t get shot through the chest with
a .38 or down in the cellar.”

RAKE looked up in surprise.

“Say, this bird seems to know some-
thing. Only about four police officials are
aware that your father was killed with a
.38 caliber bullet.”

Harry Saskowitz wiped perspiration
from his brow.

Drake went on reading. “We want the
money in 5—10-—20 dollar bills. If you
have the money marked you can kiss the
world goodbye.

“Here is how to get in touch with us.
Put an ad in the Mirror personal column,
like this:

“Mary come home Put in the
blank space whatever day you will have
the money ready.

“I am going to describe the man who
shot your father, so you know we mean
business. He is five feet, six inches tall,
wore a gray suit and had black and white
shoes. You see one of my men done the
job. So you better pay if you want to
live. I’ll be watching the Mirror.”

Harry Saskowitz waited until Drake
had finished the letter. His face was
lined with worry. “What should I do?”

“Put an ad in the Mirror,’ said Drake.
“T’ll write it for you.”

He took a pencil and scribbled the fol-
lowing:

“Mary: Half will be ready Friday,
other half next week. Advise. Sasko-
witz.”

“That should do the trick,” said the
detective. ‘We want to stall for time.
Let me know when you get an answer
and we'll be ready.”

As a precautionary measure, Drake ar-
ranged to have a detective guard Sasko-
witz.

When Drake got back to his office, he
called up the main office division at
Brooklyn headquarters and asked for De-
tective Charles Ryder.

“Charlie,” he said when the latter came
to the phone. “You better start growing
a beard. I may have a little job for you
at the end of the week.”

Detective Ryder, one .of whose spe-
cialties was the impersonation of East
Side vagrants laughed. “Okay,” he said.
“The wife won't like it but I’ll stop shav-
ing.”

if Bev next morning, the lith of June,
Saskowitz’s advertisement appeared
in the personal column of the Daily Mirror.
The detectives waited for a reply.

The 12th came and went. Still no word
came from the mysterious extortionist,
and Drake wondered whether he had
been scared off.

On the 13th their fears were put to rest.

When the postman brought the mail
that morning, Saskowitz saw a plain
white envelope on which his name was
printed in pencil. Anxiously he tore it
open to read what it contained.

“Mr. S Put the money in a box and
wrap it up in paper. Someone will come
and ask you if you have a bundle for
Mary. Let us warn you again, if you tell
the police we will kill you. If this is a
double-cross and we don’t receive the
money Friday, just say your prayers.

“Let me compliment you. At least you
have shown good sense so far. Stay in
your garage Iriday until 9 o’clock. Next
week I want the rest of the money the
same way.”

Saskowitz felt an icy shudder go
through him. Only a few hours before
this very letter had been in the hands of
a man who was determined to deal him
the same fate his father had met. Between
the writer and his prospective victim was
a gap which would take all the ingenuity
of the police to close.

A phone call brought Detective Drake
over to the garage. A red spot of ex-
citement burned in his cheeks when he
saw the letter. Lines around his jaw
tightened.

“All right,” he said, “tomorrow's the
day then. We’ll meet you here at 7:30
o’clock in the morning. There’s no telling
when things may break.”

Drake went back to his office and laid
plans for the next day’s work. He ar-
ranged for Detective James Sweeney
and Richard Names to be on hand at the
garage and telephoned to Detective Ryder
that he would call for him at 6 o'clock the
next morning. Then Drake went home.

There was a gray light in the eastern
sky when Drake called at Ryder’s house.
He pressed the bell lightly with his finger-
tips and a moment later the door opened.

He saw before him a man with a brown-
ish beard as thick as a carpet. Pores,
grimy with dirt, spotted his face. He
wore a pair of trousers with patches at
the knees and frayed cuffs. His shirt
was a brownish green with grease marks

72 Accept No Susstrrutes! ALways Insist on tHE ADVERTISED BRAND!

along the collar. Bu:
was the appearance
heels were sloping
knobby bulges and
loosely.

The brown beard
teeth flashed in a gri:
a cup of coffee, mist

Drake smiled back.
authentic,” he said.

By 7:30 the detect
witz’s garage. Dral
stained mechanic’s jt
post where he coulc
office.

Ryder blended per
ground of the East
huddled on a tenem:
way, one of the man
that drifted out of :
houses for a bit of n

Detective Sweene
scene. He was dres
feur’s uniform and lc
of a big sedan.

When Detective
was given a pair of
inside the garage.

With everyone at
moye was up to tl
writer, Saskowitz
sat in his office. Fr
cast apprehensive g
Drake who sat on
limousine paring his
back at him reassuri

The hours passed
pened. The detecti
posts, were patient.
enced men and they
waiting game.

Saskowitz had his
him and stayed at h
tives stayed hungry.
in the afternoon a b
paused at the thres
ramp. He had a lett

te LOOKING i
. he said to Dr:
jerked a thumb to t!
said the boy and wei
Saskowitz the letter.
hands trembled as h

“Give this boy the
If he is followed it \
Do what we say anc
worry, but if you d
get your whole fami!
lieve me, just follow t

Casually Drake sa
fice. Saskowitz shov

“Give the boy th:
Drake.

Saskowitz went to
knob and swung ope:
took outa five-inch lc
in brown paper and }
The youngster took

Drake stood by thx
pointed to the boy.
the stoop and shuffl

Drake then got in

Sweeney and Nan
and fell in behind D

The street was crc
ans. School childre
and swarms of jost
and girls pushed ea:
with his broken dow:
white-shirted youth

At the corner of |
turned. He went as
made another turn,
Delancey street, f
Broome street he t

Detective William A,
Drake, above, helped solve
the Saskowitz murder,
From the garage at right
officers began a chase end-
ing in the killer’s capture,

AURANT |)"
&GRILL

|

@.,

aieher

arrived he saw an ambulance backed against the
curb. The driver, seated at the wheel reading a
newspaper, jerked a thumb toward the side door
of the house.

“They’re in the cellar,” he said.

When the patrolman reached the cellar, one
look told him the story. The place was hushed
except for the sobbing of the girl. The white-
jacketed ambulance surgeon, blue cap pushed back
on his head, was writing in a black notebook. At
his feet lay a gray-haired man.

“D EAD on arrival at 9:08—gunshot wound in
the chest,” said the ambulance surgeon when
he saw the patrolman. He tore a page from his
notebook and proffered it. Matter looked at it,
saw that it was an official report of death. He
put it in his hat.

“Is there a phone in the house?” he asked.

The girl lifted her red eyes toward him. “Up-
stairs in the hall,” she sobbed.

Matter nodded and left the cellar. He called his

12

Ae

Sn a 2

precinct and told the sergeant to send the detective
squad over.

Among those who arrived in response to the call
was Detective William A. Drake, a husky officer
with a reputation for sticking to a clue. The first
thing he did was to seek out Estelle Saskowitz and
question her. He took her away from the cellar
into the living room upstairs.

“Tell me what you know about this,” he sug-
gested kindly as they sat down.

The girl twisted a wet handkerchief, in her
fingers. “At ten minutes of nine my father went
down to the cellar to fix the hot water heater. I
was dozing upstairs when I heard a loud noise like
a backfire. I ran to the window and I saw a man
running away from the house.”

Drake had his notebook out.

“Did you recognize him?”

The girl shook her head in denial. “I didn’t see
his face clearly. I didn’t pay much attention be-
cause I thought he was running to see if there was
an accident.”

“What kind of suit did he wear?”

“Light gray,
“And hat?”
“No hat—his
“About how «
“Young, not n
“And how big
The girl shrug
Drake stood u;
of him, frowned
eyebrows. She
hands near the p
this broad.”
Drake’s pencil
feet, six inches t


duli OO WW

REAL

DETECTIVE
JUNE 1956

, fst r wk
See ie

Pe es. 15% CLI Oot
Believe me—I've learned right from wrong.
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rey,


1 was acquitted of murder. Yet I'm denied
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By HARRY GREENBERG, as he lived it

WENTY-NINE YEARS AGO I was in Murderer’s Row in the Raymond Street Jail,
Brooklyn, N. Y. In the cell to my left was a Norwegian’ carpenter who chopped

up two women and left their bodies in Prospect Park. To my right was a cop-
killer. I was 16 years old—and they said I'd helped kill my best friend, Benjamin
Goldstein. : They said I'd helped to kill him for money—to get insurance that was carried

on his life.
My name is Harry Greenberg. I was born in the slums of New York’s lower East

Side. I grew up there. That’s where I still live. I never knew my Dad. He died when
I was six months old. My mother had a hard time trying to make ends meet. Mama
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When I got older and went to school—Public School 160, that was, on Rivington
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about running from school. They called Mama and told her they'd have to take steps
if I didn’t stop. For a couple of weeks I tried, but all I could think of was how much
we needed the money from jobs I could pick up, and how heavy the work was for her
to do alone. So I went on the hook again, and they sent me to the Truant and Proba-
tionary School on Broome Street.

That was a good school. I remember the principal—Miss Olive Jones—a wonderful
lady about 60 years old with snow white hair. She was strict and stern, but she un-
derstood us boys. When I ran off from her school she called me in and talked to me.
She asked me why I ran off. I told her. She gave me a pink pass so I could leave the
school at noon and go to work, I worked my head ‘off making good grades in that school
so she would know that I was grateful.

When I was about 15, I got a regular job with the corner confectionery store, run-
ning errands, delivering cokes, and cigarettes, doing whatever I was asked. I got $2 a
week, and I don’t mind saying it seemed like a lot of money. I was boxing, too, at
Seward Park Gym on Hester Street, and I was a pretty good amateur fighter.

It was about this time I met Joseph Lefkowitz. He was (Continued on next page)

13


“An accident,” Irv muttered. "Don't forget. We tried to

a big man in the neighborhood—an older man, about 55,
of stocky build, with handsome features and a smooth way
about him. He was a businessman and promoter, always
with plenty of cash to spend. People looked up to him
down on the East Side.

His partner was Benjamin Goldstein, a frail boy about 19,
with a gentle way about him. Goldie used to be at the gym
where I worked out, and we got friendly. He’d keep time
for me, bandage my hands, watch how I fought, give me
advice. He never treated me like a punk kid. I guess he
was the best friend I ever had.

Lefkowitz came to the gym sometimes, too, to watch me
fight. He encouraged me, talked about handling me some
day. He seemed to take a liking to me, and I was flattered.

I didn’t know it at first, but I came to find out that Mr.
Lefkowitz and Goldie were in a fraudulent business. They
would open a clothing store someplace, insure the goods, and
then burn down the place to get the money. I guess it didn’t
really seem a crime to me at the time. Maybe I didn’t think
much about it at all. You were too busy hustling to make a
buck most of the time to think about anything. The idea on
the East Side was just to get yours and keep your mouth shut.

Lefkowitz told me: “Keep the mouth shut. You'll be taken care of.”

I met Irving Rubinzahl through Goldie and Mr. Lefkowitz.
He was a good looking boy, about 19 at the time I think.
The four of us used to spend ‘a good deal of time together.
It made me feel pretty important, going around with them.
I used to try to act like Mr. Lefkowitz. He was the richest
man I'd ever met.

It was the summer of 1927, and I’d been taking my
boxing pretty serious, thinking it might lead to something. I
won my share of fights and got into the preliminaries of the
Golden Gloves. Then I lost a fight, and I took a real beating.
A bad one. I never knew what it was to be hurt until that
fight, and I'll never forget it. It made me sick. Mr. Lef-
kowitz came around to see me the day after, and he said
to me:

“Harry, you don’t have to take this kind of thing to try
and pick up a dollar. You're too smart to end up a stumble-
bum.”

I said I'd like to get into something else. But there didn’t
seem to be many opportunities for a young fellow. Mr.
Lefkowitz sort of nodded as though he were thinking it over,
and then he said:

“T'll tell you, Harry, why don’t you come in with me? [’ll

| was a kid—poor and very eager,

save h

take care of yx

I felt real p
than I’d ever
and asked wh: —
the shoulder a:
it over.

About three
out. Goldie w
Lefkowitz cam
then we all pile
for awhile. Fir
taking it easy,
to make a dolla:
Then Goldie ;
Finally Goldie

“Joe, why di
in that insuran

Mr. Lefkowi
up. I saw the s
a little trying t
them.

“What's the

Rubinzahl tol


130

WHO WAS THE
WHITE-FACED
MENACE?

For weeks, Lynn Vickers and
his G-men had been trailing
a ruthless gang of bank rob-
bers that were terrorizing the
middle-west; a new gang that
had apparently sprung to life
overnight.

Witnesses had told of a lead-

er whose outstanding. char-
acteristic was the deadly pal-

‘lor of his face. It was like the
countenance of a dead man,

exptessionless, ghastly and
immobile!

And The Ghost had struck a

néw and terrifying note in
criminal ingenuity... . Day-
light hold-ups, blowing up

- vaults,‘all previous technique

had been rendered obsolete
by this fiendish mob — for
they had evolved a method

of blasting their way through |

steel doors with bullets!

It's a race against Time as
Lynn Vickers and his G-men
seek to end the terror and lo-
cate the source of the new in-
vention that threatens to
make one man the ruthless
emperor of the Underworldl

Read the latest adventure of
Lynn Vickers in “DEATH DEALER”

A G-77 Short Novel
by Bryan James Kelley

Complete In the OCTOBER

FEDERAL AGENT

ON SALE EVERYWHERE—10¢

ey gare ae

FRONT PAGE DETECTIV

said it was not Banke He insisted that
the others, the Goldstein. family: in-
cluded, were trying to add to his: trou-
bles by identifying anothet corpse.

He was so insistent that District At-
torney Dodd ‘halted the funeral cere-
monies and called a score of witnesses
to identify the dead boy, piling up a
heap of. affidavits against which Lef-
kowitz’s word could not stand.

The last of Lefkowitz’s elaborate
plans crashed. to the ground when
twenty-five men who said Benny Gold-
stein owed them money obtained writs,
stopping the insurance companies from -
paying Lefkowitz until their claims
were Satisfied.:The perfect crime was
a ghastly disaster now, with every de-
tail known to the world, and the $140,-
000 tied up in legal snarls.

Less than three weeks after Benny’s
death, Lefkowitz was indicted for first
degree murder, Rubinzahl and Green-
berg were getting revenge by turning
state’s evidence against him. The trial
began before Supreme Court Justice
Harry Lewis on November 27, :

[_2FKowrrz came to the trial with .
a new attitude, one of smiling,
jovial volubility, apparently eager to
aid the ends of justice. With a great
show of making a clean breast of all
his sins he ‘admitted that he had in-
tended to defraud the insurance com-
panies, He was not above a little mat-

ter. of embezzlement. That he would ©

admit, but. not the murder charge. A

fake drowning had been the plan.
“Did you intend to double-cross

Goldstein?” he was asked, |
“Never!” he shouted in shocked

| tones. The actual drowning he tried to

dispose of as’ “one of those things.”

“T still believe that it was an acci-
dent,” he said suavely. That gave Ru- -
binzahl and Greenberg an “out” if they’.
wanted. to retract their confessions.
But they stuck. grimly to their stories,
Then Lefkowitz, as if the controversy
were a tempest in a teapot, said:

“Blackmail! They started all this to
try to get the money away from me,”

He pointed to the seventy-five dol-»
lars that he had paid Rubinzahl.before
the drowning. Would the court believe
that he could have a murder committed
in broad daylight and in full view of
the shore for such a price? The money .
he gave. Rubinzahl afterward, for
which he had to pawn his wife's ring,
was not :paynient for value received.
That was hush. money, blackmail

squeezed out of him by: Rubinzahl ”

when that worthy took advantage of .
the “accident” by threaténing to make
it appear a capital crime. - .

This pretense of injured half-inrio-
cence was like a paper wall through
which other testimony blew great gap~
ing holes. Nigger Rubinzahl, his beach ...
tan bleached by two months in prison
to a yellow that would have justified *
“Chink” as a new nickname, fairly)
shouted out his story.

He stated flatly that he had drowned
Benny Goldstein in Gravesend Bay'on

August 27. for a bribe of $250) He)...
told how, with the prospective victim’ "|

standing only a few feet. away, _Let-

- them off in the morning and how, after;

‘clothes line. Benny got.it. Shorty let

something to Benny, and I don’t want. 4 Onkea
“you to talk or I’ll do the same thing to “© leaders:
you. I’m going to push him overboard, werfi
and if you try to help him ru bump . WAVE
you off.” ‘« startlin
Each of the three men was ‘trying to fy rs
salvage at least his life out of the tane ©. onl os
gle in which this “perfect” crime had % advancc
involved them—Lefkowitz by his alibi. « ment, ;
in the dentist’s-chair.and by his pre a built, r:
tense that he did hot intend that Benny ~ will thri!
should die; Rubinzahl by turning, - perform.
state’s evidence; Greenberg by pre- Por nang
' tending that he had been bullied into Program
.the affair but. had tried to rescue the — vite Ll re
victim. And each, while trying to save ~ and mu

.. liberate.’

« stein as the beneficiary and each within:
“ a month transferred by assignment to
_ Lefkowitz, -tightened the net around

“unable even to buzz his wings,

‘ story of the “perfect crime” were read

kowitz had murmured the bribe.
and explained the murder. plan. ‘i¢i¢
He told how; Lefkowitz had seen

they had passed .Captain. Hinman’s’
boat,. Shorty Greenberg had winked a)
him over Benny Goldstein's head.’
“I didn’t do it then,” shouted Rubin
zahl, “He winked at me again and still.
I didn’t do it. So Shorty jumped in and.
swam around the boat. Then he got.in
and winked at-me again: I said
Benny, ‘Let’s change places.’ He pulled.
in the oars and got up. I pushed: him
over and he fell into the water
“What happened next?” °°:
“He was ‘hollering ‘for help," P
stammered, “I was standing in th
boat. Greenberg threw him a piece of

go.... Benny stayed up about three.
minutes. Then. I didn’t see him, any. “4
more,” ye ae
Greenberg gave’ an Ve pressions vo
complete stupidity.on the stand, He
had none of the voluble suavity of Lef-
kowitz, none of the shouting ferocity of
the sharp-featured Rubinzahl. Word *
by word Gallagher drew from him cor-
roboration of all the important details

consist<

S/

of Rubinzahl’s story. He tried to mini-. - <2. { DIRE‘
mize his own part in the-crime. By if N°
- “I threw him a rope, It was too short, i, dj d
I let go. Then I stood up and hollered © .. Mido:
for help. I waved my arms and wanted ‘ buy th
to jump in, but Nigger wouldn’t stop thousa
the boat.” He also testified that before’ before
they got in the boat Nigger had said: ~ , Midwe
“Listen, Shorty. I’m going ‘to do_ satisfac

his own hide, was trying to pull down,
the others. ~

Testimony of Rabbi Pollack “nt Mrs:
Alnela, neither of whom had any per-.
sonal axe to grind, satisfied the jury
that the drowning had been very de~

The tedious but impressive dxhibits
of insurance policies, five of. them with
ore company, two with another, each
made out originally with Mother Gold-

that. suspect. until he was like a_ fly
in a spider’s web, tightly trussed

The jury soon brought ina verd
of guilty for Lefkowitz and Rubinzahl, -
and of acquittal for Greenberg. And dn
‘December. 27 the sentences closing the

“Twenty years to life for Rubinzahll”.


154 THE NEW YORK TOMBS.

1795.—Peter Connor
s Martin McNeil
John Murray
“ . Joshua L. Remsen
1796.—Noah Gardner
VY1797.—John Young
1799.—John Partland Murder.
U 1806.—Francisco Low.......ce cece cece cere e eee eeeees s
ie John Banks
~1810.—John Sinclair
LS James Johnson
vy 1811.—George Hart
1815.—Thomas Burk
1816.—Diana Silleck
. Ishmael Freeman
1820.—Rose Butler
i John Johnson
1825.—James Reynolds
1829.—Richard Johnson
i Catharine Coshear
1882.—Daniel Ransom
1835.—Richard G. Jackson
1837.—Samuel Ackley... ...... eee cece eee ee ee eens
1838.—Edward Coleman
1841.—Patrick Russell
1845.—Thomas Eager
1846.—Charles Thomas
20, 1849.—Matthew Ward
25, 1851.— Benson
te fe Douglass
19, “ —Aaron Stokey
27, 1852.—Otto Grunzig
19, “ —Patrick Fitzgerald
28, 1853.—Nicholas Howlett
«  « _ William Saul
11, “ —Joseph Clark
27, 1854.—James L. Hoar
17, 1857.—John Dorsay........-.00- rr nee

ESCAPES FROM THE GALLOWS. 155

Noy. 12, 1858.—James Rogers Murder.
z-Feb. 3, 1860.—John Stephens
z-March 80, ‘“ —John Crimmons
eduly. 18, .“. —Albert Hicks... 22.2... ccc eee senses Piracy.
. Feb. 21, 1862.—Nathaniel Gordon Slaver. (U.S. case.)
June 27, “ —Wm. Ienry Ilawkins....Murder on Iligh Seas.

-/ Aug. 17, 1866.—Bernard Friery

vOct. 19, “ —F. Ferris “
y/March 1, 1867.—George Wagner...........++---0 sees
vAug. 9, “ —Jerry O’Brien,

\ April 8, 1870.—John Reynolds

Vgrdh 6, Oe os a .. 5 av bal seb ia cece oe
t’March 10, 1871.—John Thomas.......... 6... eee eee eee

t» March 21, 1873.—William Foster

‘ May 16, “ —Michael Nixon

LIST OF PRISONERS SENTENCED TO DEATH, BUT NOT EXECUTED.

George Vanderpoel.... Arson 1816. Commuted.
William Miller........ Murder... ...1827. Leptiocnest, ig

life.
Ezra White ) New -trial; convicted
mais of manslaughter.

John Swack .: ; Commuted.
Thomas Tappan....... i

John ©. Colt “ Nov. 18, 194g, { Committed suicide in
the Tombs.

William Harper........ 1847. Commuted.
Calvin Reesi.. 3i.%.. z
Thomas Hayes

Alexander Jones.......Arson

Joseph Wall Murder

Michael Mulvay.

James Sullivan.

Antonio Lopez 1852. Pardoned.
James Doyle 1853. Commuted.
William Johnson. ; * «
Thomas Nearey

William Scharffenburg

=

oping me eg

nr ee

Peres oy


de”
2 repeated the
» himself that

homas J. Fos-
‘oute to a fire
» Hunt's Point
ston Railroad

the shot. A
2 station stair-
ito a big black

t's go, Tom!”
upper Bronx
the squad car;
ward. He un-
ge car seventy
ad emptied his
ed his usually
‘ide.
Nzzy, careening
shake them off.
nan Foster's
lriving cut the
he other car by
ifteen feet. But
zed that the
was hopeless.
itives’ machine
speedy to be
n by the light
ar unless the
‘were pursuing
accident.
an’t hang on to

{unt’s Point Sta-
‘rom spot
cross that
icers took

exciting chase
slayers’ car.

iim that I love

were the dying

of the murderer’s
wife, as she lay
hospital on Wel-
land, New York
(below)

Solving New York City’s

their tails much longer, Sergeant,” he shouted to the officer
on the running board. “Can you get their number?”

But here, too, Fate conspired against them. The New
York license plates for that year had a misty gray back-
ground. Sergeant Stroh, though he leaned forward reck-
lessly, was unable to read the number. And the gap between
the cars was increasing. Within six more blocks the two
policemen found themselves hopelessly outdistanced. The
big limousine veered around a corner. When the police cut
into the side street after it, it was no longer in sight. Ser-
geant Stroh climbed back inside the car and shook his head.

“Turn around, Tom,” he instructed. “Let’s get back to
the railroad station; find out what’s happened, and get our
hands on witnesses before they get away.”

At the Hunt’s Point Station, the two police officers began
the preliminary investigation of the shooting.

After Night Agent Reilly had discovered the desperately
wounded victim, he had endeavored to lead the “Baron” to
a bench, while he telephoned for police and an ambulance.
But the “Baron” insisted he did not wish to go to a hospital,
that he wished to go home. He insisted, further, upon using
the station telephone booth first himself, to call his wife,
Marie.

Almost collapsing from loss of
blood, the sixty-five-year-old “Bar-
on” patiently stood in the tele-
phone booth and held a conversa-
tion with his. wife. Reilly,
meanwhile, had sought out another
telephone and summoned police
and an ambulance.

The wounded man, now too weak
to stand, was still at the railroad
station when Sergeant Stroh and
Patrolman Foster returned. Ser-
geant Stroh questioned him rap-
idly.

The “Baron,” they learned, was

(Right) John E. McGeehan, Bronx
District Attorney at the time this
story took place. He is now a Su-
preme Court Justice. (Below) The
“Baron” walked into a death trap
when he permitted himself to be led
to this stairway in the Hunt’s Point
Station by a mysterious stranger

Amazing Dolge Enigma cw

Edward H. Dolge, prominent business man in the Bronx
Borough of New York City.

He told the two police officers that he had never seen his
assailants before. He could suggest no motive for the weird
attack—except robbery. Yet, his gold watch was in his
pocket, as was his money, and the valuable diamond ring
was still on his left hand.

The office of District Attorney John E. McGeehan, of thc
Bronx—McGeehan as this is written is a Supreme Couri
Justice—had automatically been informed of the shooting
Assistant District Attorney William Kerr and Detective
Sergeant William Stetter of the Homicide Squad had im-
mediately been assigned to the case.

Dolge was being removed by ambulance to Lincoln Hos-
pital when they arrived at the station. Assisted by the tw
uniformed patrolmen, Kerr and Detective Stetter immedi-
acy began their investigation.

ight Agent Reilly had seen the man who had quarrelled
on the station platform with Dolge. Milton Janis, of New
Rochelle, the waiting passenger, likewise had seen and heard
the man. But neither was able to furnish a description, for
the fellow had at all times during the altercation kept his
back to them.

The taxicab driver, Herkowitz.
still at the scene, could add little
more. He told of driving the “Bar-
on” to the station and of being
well paid. He said that immedi-
ately after the “Baron” left his
cab, two men got out of a black
limousine that had parked behind
his taxi. One of them, short and
dapper, pulled up the collar of his.
coat and started after Dolge. The
other walked to his cab, looked in
at him sharply for a second, then
hurried on after his companion
The other fellow, Herkowitz said,
was of medium height. Both were

young—in their twenties. He
thought that the car was a Pack-
ard.

“That’s right,” Sergeant Stroh
agreed. He told Detective Stetter
of the chase. ‘There were two of
them. We heard a shot. They ran
across the street, hopped in this
Packard. We chased them, lost

(Photo by Underwood them. I emptied my gun at them,

and Underwood) but | wouldn’t swear that we'd find
any bullet holes, even in the back
of the Packard. It was certainly rough going.”

Assistant District Attorney Kerr and Detective Sergeant
Stetter hurried to Lincoln Hospital. There they found that
Dolge, despite the critical wound which was rapidly sapping
his energy, was in a lively, even angry, frame of mind.
Nurse Eva Patrick had assisted in undressing him. Now
he was accusing the innocent nurse of filching his diamond
stick-pin, which was missing. It was evident he had a
grudge against all hospitals.

He denied, once more, that he had ever seen his assailants
before. He could give only vague descriptions of them.

“The shorter fellow, the little one with the gun, had a
mean, twisted smile on his face all the time. He was the
one who pushed the other fellow aside and shoved the gun
against me. When he had it against my stomach, he de-
liberately shot me. I don’t know why. He did it calmly.
coolly, with that crooked smile on his face all the while.”

Detective Sergeant Stetter pressed Dolge for an account
of his activities prior to the shooting.

Almost reluctantly, it seemed to his interrogators, Dolge
told of sitting in Mormon’s speakeasy with his beautiful
blond companion, Mrs. Minnie Pretchey. He seemed even
more reluctant—and annoyed—when the admission was
dragged from him that he had been with the pretty blond
from three in the afternoon until eleven that night, with
the exception of an hour when she had left him at six o'clock
to prepare dinner at home for her husband.

He insisted that she and her husband were friends—of
Mrs. Dolge and himself. He was quite annoyed at the ques-
tion as to whether jealousy on (Continued on page 72)


iding into the city.
that only a couple
descended, Captain
small party consist-
Nix and August St.

iat they were con-
ion. Not only was
‘ay heavily wooded,
h a thick growth of
laces almost impos-
1 until darkness fell

things was necessary
Force of men suffi-
yrush and drive the
im to his lair. The
‘ers drove to Seattle

“which they had to

‘tain Strickland tele- °

the services of my
sequently, when the
ht, | had the dogs

‘st deputies, William
A. “Mickey” Davis,
1en it came to track-
Washington jungles,
1§ was often worth a

to Des Moines and
nds. Alighting from
the place where the
gave them the scent

to disappoint-
___| find no trail.
id the dogs worked
no avail.
they started, and as
rs passed, the inky
s seemed only to
ore intense. —
s, stumbling throug
« underbrush with no
cept pocket flashes to
1em, they kept dog-
their task. Finally,
1, worn out and dis-
j, they gave up the
hunt.
waiting in my Office
‘avis came in to re-
id as soon as I saw
:, I knew that the
ad been fruitless.
uck,” he announced;
n, though worn out,
ristically rushed into
of the hounds.
vasn’t the fault of
ror Joe,” he said. “No
1 find a trail if it isn’t
pick up.” I knew
is} nettled tone that
“the posse had criti-
elhounds. He added,
we didn’t get the
‘ace—or whoever it
ose fellows saw—it
Berning!”
went out to take care
dogs, I mentally
with him, for I had
aown Rambler or Joe
‘ck up a track if
s there and rea-
1.
the collapse of the
ued on page 62)

LEONARD, John Thomas, wh, elec. NY (Brenx) 1/22/1925

Death followed the ‘‘Baron”
(in circle) into the Hunt’s
Point Station, pictured
above. Mortally wounded
he staggered to spot marked
by cross—the victim of
mysterious killers whose
motive baffled officials

DOLGE ENIGMA

By JOHN FLANAGAN

HE “Baron” was slightly drunk. He sat at his

favorite corner table in Mormon’s speakeasy, Union

and Westchester Avenues, the Bronx, New York City,

and regarded his surroundings with satisfied eyes. He

approved of everything about him—of the whisky
and soda which he sipped; of the pleasant warmth, this
cold day; of the speakeasy and, finally, of the comely blond,
bobbed-haired woman who shared the table with him. She
was Mrs. Minnie Pretchey, a jauntily dressed woman young
enough to have been his daughter.

The “Baron,” a distinguished-looking fellow of sixty-five,
toyed with the graying Van Dyke beard that gave him his
nickname in the night spots of the Bronx. A large diamond
worth $1,500 winked from the ring finger of his left hand.
Another, set in the stick-pin of his tie, winked back.

At six o’clock the blond had smiled at» him-and arisen
from her chair. “I must go home now. My husband will
want his dinner.”

“But you'll be back?” pleaded the “Baron.”

“T’ll be back,” she promised, “this evening.”

The “Baron” arose politely, if a little. unsteadily, from
his chair. He waved at her as she crossed. the room‘ to! the
street door.

At seven o'clock that evening she had returned. There

‘had been more drinks, more conversation. At eleven he had
escorted her to her home in the neighborhood and then re- °

MASTER DETECTIVE, March, 1937

and FRED ALLHOFF

turned to Mormon’s speakeasy for a final “nightcap.”

He paid scant attention to two men who had entered the
place shortly after him. A few cther patrons were standing
at the bar. Four men at a near-by table were playing
pinochle. The two newcomers went to the bar, and ordered
beers. They had the pasty, furtive faces of men who live
in the “rat-holes” of cities. Their dark, shifty eyes roamed
the speakeasy with affected indifference. A close observer
would have recognized the scrutiny as that of men searching
for someone.

The eyes of the shorter of the two suddenly fell upon the

“Baron,” who was occupied with his final glass of whisky

and soda. He nudged his companion. They drained their
beer glasses and walked out.

Five minutes later, the “Baron” finished his drink, bade
the bartender a hearty good evening, crossed the room and
went out.

‘On the sidewalk, he looked up and down the chill, dark

street. A large black limousine stood at the curb. In it
were the two strangers who had been in the speakeasy. If
the “‘Baron” knew this he seemed to attach no significance to

‘it: He walked to the corner where he hailed a passing taxi.

The cab driver, Morris Herkowitz, of 770 Prospect
Avenue, swung open the rear door, and closed it after the
“Baron” had dropped comfortably on to the rear seat.

“Where to, mister?” inquired Herkowitz.


50 Master

“The Hunt’s Point Station.”

As the cab pulled away, the black limousine swung out
from the curb and followed. Arrived at his destination
the “Baron” got out of the cab, paid the fare and walked
toward the station.

As he went down the station steps, he pulled out his gold
watch. It was not yet midnight. He was in plenty of time
to catch the 12:13 which would carry him to his estate in
Mount Vernon.

The “Baron” pushed through the swinging doors, ap-
proached the ticket cage of William Reilly, night agent on
duty, who knew him as a regular passenger.

The “Baron” handed Reilly his commutation ticket. Reilly
punched it. That simple formality later was to take on
significance—a significance worth $8,000 in cash.

The “Baron” walked over and stood against the wall of
the station. He had scarcely taken up his position there
when the swinging doors connecting with the platform
opened. and an angry voice demanded:

“Hey, you! What do you mean by short-changing the
cab driver?”

The “Baron’s” dignified face crinkled in astonishment as
he saw that the question was addressed to him. He looked
at the ugly face of the
strange young man,
then became indignant.

“What are you talk-
ing about?” he de-
manded. “I paid the
cab driver in full.”

“You gypped him,
you mean,” contradic-
ted the young man.
Blood surged into the
“Baron’s’” distinguished
face as the other rough-
ly seized him by the
arm.

“Let go of me,” he
snapped.

“Tl let go of you,”
the other sneered,
“when you come out-
side and settle the cab
bill like a man.”

The “Baron,”  an-
noyed and humiliated
by the other’s loudly
spoken words, glanced
about. Reilly was star-
ing curiously from his
ticket booth. Another waiting passenger on the platform
was likewise looking at them. Better, the “Baron” decided,
to go out and settle the whole silly argument with the cab
driver himself.

With the other still holding his arm, the “Baron” let
himself be led back through the door toward the flight of
steps connecting with the street. At the same moment,
Reilly came from his booth to listen to the argument.

The “Baron” had no sooner stepped through the doors
and started up the station steps than he saw a second man,
a dapper, hard-faced fellow with a thin-lipped leering
mouth. He was coming down the steps toward them, and
in his right hand was a revolver.

With a spasm of panic, the “Baron” realized that he had
walked right into a trap.

He tried to pull away. The man holding him tightened
his grip; then suddenly tugged at his left hand. The older
man struggled desperately to free himself as the other ex-
tended a hand toward his throat.

Suddenly the dapper little chap with the gun was upon
them. Snarling an oath, his twisted lips curved in a vicious
half-smile, the armed youth shoved his companion to one
side. Jamming the gun against the “Baron’s” stomach, he
pulled the trigger.

Clutching his stomach, the “Baron” staggered drunkenly
toward the station doors. He heard his two assailants
running up the steps to the street.

The wounded man stumbled through the door into the
arms of Night Agent Reilly and the passenger who had
been there awaiting the 12:13.

Detective

“My God!” said Reilly. “What’s happened?”

“I’ve been shot,” groaned the “Baron.” He repeated the
words over and over as though to convince himself that
this incredible thing had really happened.

* * a

Sergeant Albert J. Stroh and Patrolman Thomas J. Fos-
ter of the Simpson Street Station were en route to a fire
in their squad car and were approaching the Hunt’s Point
Station of the New York, Westchester and Boston Railroad
when the shooting took place. Both heard the shot. A
second later, they saw two men race from the station stair-
way, cross the street on the run, and climb into a big black
limousine which immediately pulled away.

“Stick-up,” guessed Sergeant Stroh. “Let’s go, Tom!”

The mad pursuit over the streets of the upper Bronx
began. Sergeant Stroh opened the door of the squad car,
took up a perilous position on the running board. He un-
holstered his gun, drew a bead upon the large car seventy
feet ahead and pulled the trigger until he had emptied his
weapon. But the swift, jolting pace destroyed his usually
accurate marksmanship. The bullets went wide.

They took corners on two wheels in this dizzy, careening
chase as the black limousine endeavored to shake them off.
Patrolman Foster's
skilful driving cut the
lead of the other car by
another fifteen feet. But
he realized that the

ursuit was hopeless.

he fugitives’ machine
was too speedy to be
overtaken by the light
police car unless the
men they were pursuing
had an accident.

“We can’t hang on to

(Left) Hunt’s Point Sta-
tion. It was from spot
indicated by cross that
two police officers took
up the exciting chase
of the slayers’ car.
“Tell him that I love
him,” were the dying
words of the murderer’s
young wife, as she lay
in the hospital on Wel-
fare Island, New York
(below)

York |
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7

“-

yvoman in the
shirt but I

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alian woman,

jing?”
is standing in
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face wore a
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ig!” he ex-

‘re racing ir-
The look on
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of grief, yes,
grief, nothing
r amazement

» delicatessen -

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t that hour—
ig though she
murder room.
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how it was
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ierged in
ousness and
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» district at-
reckoned to
together they
Again they
- street and
floor of the
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. of a woman
reviously.
aid, “you told
idn’t stir from
u remained in
‘our husband

mystified.

out, “how is it
re seen offer-
Natale in the

red as a sun-
ag nervously,
and catching
er hands. “I
t,” she finally
st down. “My
me being a
case. Not that
’ the son-in-
r and me of-
didn’t take.”
n to be in the

‘k. I thought
ids of the

en or twenty

DETECTIVE CASES

“Ves.”

“But at three o’clock you didn’t
hear a scream—so you said?”

“Yes, No. Well, maybe I heard
something, I don’t know.”

‘The woman was becoming more
flustered by the minute.

Under Detective Murray’s shrewd
and skillful questioning, she event-
ually broke down. “Yes, yes,” she
moaned. “I was there. I was in the
hallway from one until four. I tell
you all I heard, all I saw... .”

The detectives listened with’ in-
creasing interest as the woman poured
out the fruits of her keyhole espion-/
age. When she had finally finished
her story they took her to the Clinton
Street headquarters. There she was
first placed in a room with Mrs.
Leonti, and they were both ques-
tioned. Later Mrs. Lori was separated
from the mother, and placed in an-
other cubicle with Joe Leonti, where
District Attorney O’Brien made fur-
ther queries.

“Whenever ‘he's in
the line-up he al-
ways softens the
Sarge up with ‘When
Irish Eyes are
Smiling.’"

first time for everything.

“Didn't you take the money out of
this wallet?” the inspector asked
pointedly.

Davis opened his mouth, but was
forced to swallow convulsively before
he could answer: “Yes, but here’s how
it was. I seen a bloke running along
the street. I watched him, wondering
what was up. He ducks into an alley,
so I stick around till he beats it.
Then I jump in, take a quick gander,
and there I sees a wastepaper bin

SPECIAL DETECTIVE CASES

An hour later, Detective Murray
approached Giuseppe Leonti. “I
charge you with the cold-blooded
and premeditated murder of your
daughter Anna!”

The Italian went white. His eyes
blazed. Flying into a rage; he rushed
at his wife, but officers restrained
him.

“You can’t frighten me now—or
Joe either!” she cried. You stabbed
Anna... with the kitchen knife. We
wanted to stop you, but Joe and I
were scared of you. You made us
swear we would say Jack Natale
committed the murder. You went out
later and threw the knife down a
chimney on Mott street. Afterwards
you came home. You sent Joe out
with his bootblack box. Then you
dragged me downstairs for coffee, but
I was so sick I couldn’t eat.

“Afterwards you called the police.
They asked questions. I lied. But I
will lie no more! No longer am I
afraid of your threats. They’ve got

(Continued from page 31)

that he’d thrown something into!”

“So you went over and fished out
this wallet,” the inspector finished
unbelievingly.

The captive swallowed again.
“That’s right,” he said plaintively. “I
know it sounds like blarney, but it’s
the truth, so help me!”

“Where’s the gold watch?” de-
manded Hall. “Why didn’t you take
that, too?”

“What watch?” asked Davis. “I
didn’t see any.”

you. You can’t hurt us now!”
Leonti cursed in Italian, straining
against the officers, shaking his fist
at his wife. “I am not guilty!” he
shrieked.
“The girl was not half bad.” the
mother went on hysterically. “She

left the house because you were a

slave-master. You did not want her
married. You wanted her to work for
you and bring you her earnings. I
got her the husband, and paid for the
restaurant out of my savings that you
knew nothing about!

“Her marriage made you furious.
You drove Natale from the house and
she followed him. But she came back
to see me while you were hunting
for her. You caught her there and
locked her in the bedroom. When
Jack came for her you. wouldn’t let
him in. You insisted that she leave
him. She refused. She loved him.
You were a madman, a devil, a fiend!
For once you couldn’t get your way,
and it made you a murderer!

* * *

IUSEPPE Leonti was tried for first

degree murder in the Court of
General Sessions.

His own wife testified bitterly
against him, as did his son and son-
in-law. Mrs. Rosa Lori told the court
that she had heard the father’s
threats, the daughter's plea for her
life, and finally, the dreadful death
scream. A bank statement proved
that the money which had purchased
Natale’s restaurant was withdrawn
from the account of Leonti’s wife.

The jury found the callous killer
guilty and sentenced him to death.

Unmourned, Giuseppe Leonti
shuffled to Sing Sing’s electric chair
on January 24th, 1935. The web of
lies he had spun had caught the
spider instead of the fly.

The name Rosa Lori is fictitious to
conceal the identity of a woman who
otherwise might be subjected to
embarrassment.

MAD MA N’S MI ST RESS|

“Sure,” the assistant said sarcasti-
cally. “It’s probably still in that waste
bin,”

Hall frowned. “If he robbed
Thompson—” he began doubtfully.

“I didn’t rob nobody, Guv’ner!” the
little man protested. His face lit up
eagerly. “I’ll even show you where I
got this wallet from!”

The plainclothesman guffawed.
“Picking out a wastepaper container
isn’t much of a job. Any one’ll do.”

But Hall refrained from jumping at

47


Hatred burned in the eyes of Giuseppi Leonti
as he made his bitter accusations of murder

ELANCEY and Ludlow Streets in
the heart of New York City’s
lower East Side were teeming

with throngs of diverse nationalities on
the morning of April 3rd, 1932. It was
six-thirty and the crowded, rickety
tenement houses were disgorging work-
ers beginning a-‘new, day’s. battle for
existence. Pushcarts creaked over the
pavements as the sidewalk merchants
rushed to their favorite spots.

As Patrolman Harry F. Agard of the
Seventh Police Precinct elbowed his
way through all this hurrying humanity
toward a call box to make his morning
report, he noticed a crowd gathering

in front of a house at 248
Broome Street and diverted
his steps in that direction.
He found a dark, middle-
aged Italian sitting on the
bottom step, waving his
hands excitedly.

“What’s wrong here?”
Agard inquired.

“My daughter, she’s a-
murdered,” the man sobbed.
“WMurdered—my poor little
Anna!”

“Where?” Agard asked.

The man took him by the
sleeve and led him into a
dingy hallway, then up
three flights of warped
stairs to the rear apartment
of what is known as a “rail-
road flat,” because. there
were four rooms all strung
out in a row and it was
necessary for the tenant occupying the
rear room to walk through all the
others. ‘

On a bed lay a slender girl, no more
than twenty years old. Only one glance
was necessary to tell Agard that she
was dead. A dark stain had spread over
her silk pajamas. Pushing back the
clothing, the officer saw that some sharp
instrument had been driven into her
right breast. There were also wounds
in the neck and in her side.

“What’s your name?” Agard asked
the distraught father.

“Giuseppi Leonti,” the man replied.

“And she’s your daughter?”

Giuseppi and his wife slept in the bedroom (above). In the room be-
yond, their daughter, Anna, a bride of eleven days, was cruelly stabbed

42

By LINDSAY DAVIS

“Yes—my poor little Anna!” Leonti
fell on the bed sobbing. “I will keel
the one who did it,” he moaned. “I
will keel him like he keel my Anna.”

Other officers, attracted by the mill-
ing crowd in front of the place, soon
joined Agard. They telephoned for an
ambulance, notified Police Head-
quarters and the Medical Examiner.

District Attorney William Copeland
Dodge, upon being informed of the
killing, sent one of his best men, As-
sistant District Attorney P. Frantis
Marro to the scene.

Marro and Deputy Medical Examiner
Thomas A. Gonzales reached the flat
at about the same time. .

With considerable effort, Marro final-
ly calmed Leonti sufficiently to question
him. 2

The Italian* said he had awakened
that morning at five-thirty and called
out to his daughter and son-in-law to
get up, that it was time to go to work.
But he heard no answer, even though
he pounded loudly on the wall.

Later, when he, his wife and son, Joe,
started out for a cup of coffee, he-no-
ticed a chair against the door of his
daughter’s room. Curious as to why
it had been placed there, he knocked,
and upon hearing no answer flung open
the door. .

“And there she was on the bed—mur-
dered,” Leonti finished. “I then go
down for the police.”

“Just a minute,” Marro said. “When
you spoke of your son-in-law you
meant that your daughter, Anna, was
married, and that when you opened
the door and saw her lying on the bed,
your son-in-law was gone?”

“Yes,” Leonti said. “That is it.”

“How long has your daughter. been
married?”

“Eleven days today.”

“What is her husband’s name?”

“John Natale. We call him Jack.”

Leonti said that Natale had been there
the night before, that the young couple
had gone to bed around eleven o’clock
and that was the last he had seen of
Anna until he found her body in the
morning.

“Did Natale kill your daughter?”
Marro asked.

“T think he did,’ Leonti said. “I am
positive. I would swear my life on it.”

“Why?”

Leonti shrugged his shoulders. “I
dunno,” he said. “Maybe they quarrel.”

Marro next questioned Mrs. Leonti, a
spare, gaunt woman whose face dis-
closed the unmistakable signs of a des-
perate battle for existence.

The woman disclaimed any knowl-
edge of the affair.

“Did you hear any noise?”’ Marro
asked. :

MASTER DETECTIVE

A curious
noises dt

“No, no, no, ]
asleep all night.’
Joe Leonti, th
‘operated a bootb
He told Marro tl
ing during the 1
no idea who hac
Marro directe:
“Wallace to take
Leonti family to
be held for que:
By now Dr. G
his examination.

“What have
asked.

The Doctor sz
stabbed three ti
thin blade had p:
inches into the u;
a hemorrhage. S)
sometime arounc

It looked like
homicide. The f:
had named his
‘days as the slay:
was missing.

“Well,” Marro
we'll have muct
Natale. If he di:
be blood on his c
this room from
haven’t found an:

JUNE, 1942


” Leonti
will keel
vaned, “I
y Anna.”
the mill-
ace, soon
ed for an
Head-
uminer.
Copeland
1 of the
nen, As-

Frantis _

txaminer
the flat

rro final-
question

.wakened
ad called
in-law -to
to work.
n though
all.

son, Joe,
e, he-no-
or of his
3 to why
knocked,
ung open *

ed—mur-
then go

\. “When
law you
nna, was
1 opened
1 the bed,

; it.”
iter. been

ne?”
Jack.”
yeen there
ng couple
2n o’clock
d seen of
dy in the

aughter?”’

id. “I am
life on it.”
Iders. “I
7 quarrel.”
. Leonti, a
face dis-
3 of a des-
iy knowl-

2?”* Marro

CER DETECTIVE

_—

at deal

A curious crowd, mostly men and boys, watched police carry away the body. Neighbors had heard strange
noises during the night, but none could have guessed then what ‘a violent scene was taking place

“No, no, no, I hear nothing. I was
asleep all night.”

Joe Leonti, the fifteen-year-old son,
operated a bootblack stand in the block.
He told Marro that he had heard noth-
ing during the night and that he had
no idea who had killed his sister.

Marro directed Detective Charles F.
Wallace to take all members of the
Leonti family to the precinct station, to
be held for questioning later.

By now Dr. Gonzales had completed
his examination.

“What have you found?”
asked.

The Doctor said the girl had been
stabbed three times. One thrust of a
thin blade had penetrated nearly three
inches into the upper left chest, causing
a hemorrhage. She had been dead since
sometime around 3 A.M.

It looked like an ordinary case of
homicide. The father of the dead girl
had named his son-in-law of eleven
‘days as the slayer. The accused man
was missing.

“Well,” Marro said, “I don’t suppose
we'll have much trouble picking up
Natale. If he did it, there’s bound to
be: blood on his clothing. I’ve searched
this room from top to bottom and I
haven’t found any male garments with

JUNE, 1942

Marro

bloodstains on them. But there are
several suits and women’s dresses in the
closet over there, all freshly pressed.”

Just then Detective Francis A. Mur-
ray of the Homicide Squad called
Marro’s attention to a portable dresser,
a clumsy old-fashioned affair almost six
feet high, resting agdinst the east wall.
It partially concealed a second door
leading into the corridor. ‘““That makes
two doors to this apartment,” the de-
tective said. “It wouldn’t matter which
one the killer used, he’d have-to pass
through the other rooms, and I don’t
see how he could have done that with-
out disturbing some other members of
the family.” .

Marro leaned out of the window,
which overlooked the courtyard below.
The dust that lay thick on the win-
dowsill was undisturbed. “The killer
certainly had to use one of those doors
to get out,” he said. “I guess there isn’t
much else to be done but pick up the
son-in-law. Yet, for the life of me, I
can’t see a motive for the crime. Here
is a man married to a girl only eleven
days, and all of a sudden he kills her.
Why? He had nothing to gain by it that
I can see.”

“The girl had several cuts on the
palms of her hands, I noticed,” Murray

said. ‘“‘Doesn’t that give us a lead?”

“Well, it indicates she saw the
weapon in time to fight off the attack.
No doubt she would have screamed.
Someone must have heard her. Let’s
circulate among the neighbors and see
if we can find anyone who heard a dis-
turbance around three o’clock this
morning.”

Murray went to the apartment to the
rear of the building while Marro
knocked on the door across the hall.
Mrs. Jennie Respizzo, an elderly Italian
housewife, answered his summons.

“Yes,” she said, when asked if she
had heard any unusual noises early that
morning, “there were several persons
out in the hall down on the next floor
and they were making considerable
noise. I opened the door and looked
down the banister. I heard someone
yell, ‘Oh, don’t believe him. He is look-
ing for trouble.’ Then some men started
fighting. I saw Mr. Leonti’s son-in-law
right.in the middle of it.”

She said that she could see that Natale
was getting a beating. His shirt was
torn to shreds. She rushed across the
hall to the Leonti apartment and
knocked. When Leonti came to the
door, she told him, “Hurry down
there, your (Continued on page 61)

43

PE Se


Then I went upstairs to get a clean one.
My father-in-law ordered me out of the
house. He said he didn’t care if I never
came back. I guess he was mad because
I started a row in the apartment. So I
left and went down to my place on East
First Street to try and get some sleep.”

“Did you go back later?”

“I certainly did not. The way the old
man treated me I didn’t care if I ever
went back.”

“Do you mean you didn’t care to see
your wife again?” -

“Not if she was going to let her father
tell her what she could do and what she
couldn’t do. She didn’t try to stop him
from ordering me out of the house. I
intended to go back for my clothes, but
that ‘was all.”

“All the Leontis claim you killed Anna.”

“That’s a lie!” the suspect cried bitterly.
“I wasn’t there when she was killed and
they know it.” ;

“Then who did kill her?” Marro shot at
him.

“I don’t know. I just told you I wasn’t
there.”

@ “HAVE YOU any way of proving you
weren’t at the apartment when Anna
was killed?”

“T don’t know. I took a cab over to my
place after the fight. The taxi driver will
tell you that. I went in and went to sleep
on the piano. I didn’t wake up until the
detectives came.”

Natale said there was no one else at the
speakeasy when he arrived and that no
one had come in all morning, so far as he
knew, for he had been sound asleep.

The Leonti family was taken back to
the apartment in an effort to reconstruct
the crime. Natale accompanied the officers
in another car. Leonti and his wife were
conducted into their bedroom and seated
on the bed. Their son, Joe, stood beside
them. Natale was then brought in. The
door to his and Anna’s room was ajar, so
that all could see the disarranged bed.

“Where were you, Natale?”

“T wasn’t here when this happened,” he
replied sullenly.

“Yes, you were!” shouted Giuseppi
Leonti. “You killed my poor little Anna!”
He continued to rail at his son-in-law
until the officers stopped him, but even
then bitter hatred burned in his eyes.

Turning to the son, Marro asked,
“Where were you sleeping, Joe, when your
sister was killed?”

“In here with my father and mother?”

“On this bed—all three of you?”

“Yes.” ..

‘How about that, Mr. Leonti?”

Leonti nodded. “That’s right. He
sleep here with us.”.

“But you told me he slept in the
kitchen,” Marro said.

“Oh, sometimes he does,” Leonti re-
plied. “Last night he sleep in here.”

“That right, Mrs. Leonti?”

“Yes,” the woman replied.

“Was the door open between this
room and your daughter’s?”

All three nodded.

“And you saw Jack here stab her?”

Again the three nodded in unison.

“They’re lying!’’ Natale shouted.
“They’re all lying. I wasn’t even here
and they know it. I left here right after
the fight and didn’t come back until you
brought, me here.” ;

Seeing that they would get nowhere
questioning the four together, the de-
tectives quickly separated them and
Marro began talking with Mrs. Leonti.

The woman soon started sobbing and
refused to say anything. She only shook
her head when Marro insisted that she
reply to his questions. He ordered her
placed under guard, and then went to
work on. Leonti.

62

“Giuseppi, why did you hate your son-
in-law?”

“Because he is no good.”

“He was a pretty bad son-in-law to you,
was he?”

Leonti nodded his head gloomily. “No
good. I told Anna over and over again
many times to give him up.”

“Did you ask her to give him up last
night?” Marro inquired quietly.

“No, not last night. But many times
before that.”

Returning to Mrs. Leonti, Marro de-
manded to know if Leonti had asked Anna
the night before to give up Natale.

“Yes—oh, many times he asked her, but
all she said was ‘Father, I won’t do it. I
don’t care what happens. I love Jack.’”

At this point Marro was informed that
no bread knife could be found in the
Leonti kitchen, although such a knife ap-
parently had been used the night before
to slice bread from a roll found in the
pantry.

Turning to Mrs. Leonti he asked, “What

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will be found in TRUE DE-

TECTIVE, a Macfadden Pub-

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5th of each month.

became of the bread knife you used last
night?”

She became flustered and finally stam-
mered out that the killer undoubtedly had
taken it with him.

Marro was now convinced that Natale
was innocent, and that the murder of Anna
could be laid at the door of one or both of
her parents.

Taken back to Headquarters, the Leontis
were again separated and questioned in-
dividually.

Then Marro ordered Leonti to take off
his clothes, Reluctantly he divested him-
self of his suit and stood attired in long
woolen underwear. On the right thigh
appeared a long smear of blood.

“How did that get there?” Marro de-
manded.

Leonti said he had run a nail in his leg,
but there was no sign of a wound. Then
he gave another and entirely different
version, which also was quickly disproved.
Marro subjected him to a vigorous grill-
ing in an effort to break him down, but
without result.

A search of the files in the Bureau of
Identification at Police Headquarters dis-
closed that Leonti had a criminal record.
In May, 1913, he had been sentenced to
Sing Sing for three and a half years for
carrying concealed weapons, and in
August, 1920, he had been sent back to
Sing Sing for five years for shooting a
man during a quarrel.

But the prisoner steadfastly maintained
that he had not killed his daughter. “I
love my Anna very much,” he said. “Why
should I want to keel her?”

In another room, Mrs. Leonti and her
son, Joe, were undergoing a grilling. It
was Mrs, Leonti who cracked first “I will
tell you the truth,” she said at last. “It
was Giuseppi who killed Anna. He killed
her with the bread knife when she refused
for the last time to give up Jack.”

Repeatedly, Mrs Leonti said, her daugh-

ter had told them she would not leave her
husband because she loved him. She
said she would rather walk the streets and
starve than to give him up. At 3 A.M.
Leonti lost his patience. He threatened to
kill her unless she refused to see Natale
again.

“Finally,” Mrs. Leonti said, “Giuseppi
told Anna, ‘It is for the last time that I
ask you to say you will not see him again.’
Once more Anna refused.

“Giuseppi ran into the kitchen and
grabbed the bread knife. He held it over
Anna and said, ‘I give you one more
chance.’. Anna cried out, ‘No, not even if
you kill me!’ A moment later she
screamed and I knew it had happened. I
tried to go to Anna, to help her, but
Giuseppi held me back with the point of
the knife. He said he would kill me too if
I tried to help her.”

Leonti then went into the kitchen, the
woman said, washed the knife and placed
it in a shopping bag, after which he got
a revolver out of the dresser and forced
his wife and son to accompany him.

“Jack Natale did this, do you under-
stand?” Mrs. Leonti quoted her husband
as having said as they reached the street.
“He is the murderer. We must all stick
together and tell the police that he killed
Anna. If either of you tell on me I will
murder you as I did Anna.” ‘

Joe’s statement told of the nocturnal
stroll the three had taken early that
morning.

“My mother and I went with him to
Mott Street. Then he went up on a roof
and made me go with him. He put the
bag containing the knife in the top of a
chimney where he said it would never be
found.”

Giuseppi Leonti listened unmoved as
these statements were read to him. “They
are lying,” he said at last. “They are
trying to save Jack by blaming this on
me.”

Grilling did no good. He refused to
admit anything.

@ WITH THE aid of Joe Leonti, the detec-

tives began a search for the lethal
weapon. But the boy’s memory was a bit
hazy. It had been dark and he had been
frightened out of his wits, so he could not
be sure of the house his father entered to
dispose of the knife.

After a week of searching, the officers
gave up. The weapon was never found,

The case came to trial the latter part
of January, 1933. A parade of State wit-
nesses, including Mrs. Leonti and Joe,
clinched the case against Leonti, yet the
man had the effrontery to claim from the
witness stand that his wife and Natale
had been intimate and that she had tried
to protect his son-in-law by accusing him
of the crime. He maintained that he was
asleep throughout the night.

On February ist the jury brought in
a quick verdict—guilty as charged in the
indictment. Judge Lavine sentenced
Leonti to die in the electric chair during
the week of March 13th. That night the
prisoner attempted to hang himself in his
cell in the Tombs, but was cut down by
a jail guard.

The case was appealed and the New
York Court of Appeals granted Leonti a
new trial on grounds of technical error.
It was not until March, 1934, that he again
faced a jury. Once more the verdict was
guilty of murder in the first degree.

Another appeal was taken, but this time
the higher court upheld the verdict and on
March 24th, 1935, Giuseppi Leonti walked
his “last mile,” still maintaining that he
was innocent and that his wife and son
had falsely accused him. ae

Mrs. Leonti and her son were cledred
of any complicity in the crime, and Jack
Natale was proved completely innocent,
as well.

MASTER DETECTIVE

Vv

(Continued f
was in bed,”
Wencel cha

“I suppose y:
the beer garc
“Well,” was
them. I sat a
Goga and Cc
“Who are t
“Annie use:
lives over on }
dress. Celia
lives near tl
dropped in fo
Paul Chork:
had told ear!

quarters. “I

“and I often ;

. “Right throu

inquired.

The man flu:
fessed.

Chorkaway
lieved his wif.
night with her
in Hamtramck

there in the m
her home. “N
way to the bu
tacked,” he saic

A search of
vealed the you
purse behind.
dollars.

“She didn’t 1:
at night,” her |
probably took j

Neither man \
suspect in the
was friendly w
band said with
used to warn he
-off and he star
leaving his sent

“I never kne
anyone,” the roc

Upon returnir

received a repc

Genshaw. “We c

the latter detec:

tender admits he
with two women
time he left, thc

Wencel drumm

ment, and then he
_ pulled out an er

contents on his 6

strap from the tc

tie, knife blade

Picked up the n

curiously. “This

marked, “and so,
strap.”

“We might tr:
Kimball suggeste:

“That’s a tougl
_ have to do it,” V
meantime I wan
friends of Chorks
and, yes, young
any of them can }
strap.”

In the days the
worked -tirelessly,
results. Dozens o
ances of the dyi:
tioned and shown
avail.

Attractive Anni
office employee a
lodger, was unabl:
clue.

“Paul and Pauli)
she recalled. “My
accosted by a rob

The young womai
assertion that he
beer parlor, adding
thirty he was stil]

JUNE, 1942

the house to kill

‘ curtly
now.
from ‘Tolliner at
ettled there. He
Instead, he was
wardens, charged
ig regulations
had definitely de-
been done, Ser-

is returned to the
a more intensive
Attorney Stakel
Mrs. Anheier
permission.
ant John
sned the
rouse on Lockport
{1 task. Then at 5
1e telephone rang.

.@ there?”
ieier is under the
ome to the phone

ise, then the voice
| her not to worry.
ve all right for the

cryptic message. It
ious one. Long said
Yho’s talking?” But
the soft click of a
at the other end.

ang the telephone
his name and rank

:st call, please. And

eants Woods and

:e room. They had
. the Anheier prop-

which might throw
ton killing.
of the mysterious
‘da the curious mes-
r Mrs. Anheier.
omng picked it up
ast call to your
m Rochester. From
lrugstore located in
Street, East.”
ils message to his
ame into the room.
etter now,” he an-
ce her over to the
if he wants to see

Long and Woods
to Stakel's office
ip Corporal FE. F
m station and head
of the man who
telephone call.
two officers found
v0 block of Main
iestioned the pro

h, I re
He bought some
sind of nervous
or not he made a
side call, myselt

now

his Lewis lives
block

Number

were
Lewis
noted

i@) troopers
Stephen
Anderson
as Lewis opened
wb owas barely
there was a 12-
n the corner,
unbidden guests.
id. “Anything the
Did you make a
{

suhejier home at

“Did you shoot Anheier this morning?”

Lewis shook his head, a picture of in-
nocence.

“All right.” said the serg
Know Anheier or his wife?”

“Casually.” said Lewis. “I've seen them
around. | don’t know them very well.”

Lewis and_ his shotgun were escorted
back to the county seat at Batavia. During

vant. “Do you

the drive the little man stoutly main-
tained that he was completely innocent.
However, there was a surprise in store for
him when he reached the office of the

prosecutor,

There, Irene Anheier confronted him.
Her eyes were wet with tears, but there
was grim resolve in her manner and her
voice was steady as she said, “You killed
him, Steve! I know you did. I’ve already
told Mr. Stakel I know you did it.”

Lewis was stunned. He had confidently,
expected that since the obstacle to his love
had been removed, Irene Anheier would
cleave to him. Now she was accusing him
of murder!

Stakel said, “I see the officers have
brought your gun, Lewis. Ballistics can
probably tell us if that deer slug was fired
from it. Mrs. Anheier has told us all about
you.”

This was the end of Stephen Lewis’ wild

infatuation, It was also quite likely the
end of Stephen Lewis. He said in a dead,
hopeless tone, “I killed Arthur Anheier. [
was jealous of him, T thought Irene would
marry me, after he was dead.”

On Saturday morning, November 24th,
Stephen Lewis was arraigned before Judge
Phillip J. Weiss on a charge of first-degree
murder, A mandatory plea of innocent was
entered for Lewis and he asked examina-
tion. Meanwhile he was committed to the
Genesee County Jail without bail.

The following Wednesday, it was de-
cided to hold Irene Anheier as a material
witness.

“We believe Mrs. Anheier has testimony
essential to the case,” Inspector DeHol-
lander said. “Therefore, it is necessary to
assure her being available to testify.”

Perhaps Stephen Lewis wishes now that
he hac never sold that extra vacuum
cleaner. :

Epiror’s Nove:
The name Clayton Tolliner, as used in
the foregoing story, is not the real name
of the person concerned. This person has |
been given a fictitious name in order to |
protect his identity.

Girl in the
Trunk

(Continued from page 15)

John Kelley. In his absence, the homicide
men searched the little cottage. They
found nothing definitely incriminating—
but they took some sample strands from
a mop that stood in the kitchen, for com-
parison with mop fibers found in the trunk.
Detectives watched while Kelley, a ner-
vous, harassed-looking man, went about
his work at the,factory, and while he at-
tended a Hallowe’en party at the home of
Mrs. Louise Dorrance, a co-worker with
whom he had been riding to the factory.
The next morning, as Chief Bowers was
on the verge of contacting the Boston police
to check on Kelley's story, Mrs. Kelley's
fingerprint classification arrived from
Washington. She had been printed when
she applied for a job during the war.
Meanwhile, Sergeant. Lacy and Ser-
scant W. W. Thomas had been able to
restore purts of prints froin the other
fingers. With the FBI elassification for
comparison, there was no doubt that Jane
Doe Number 24 was Margaret Kelley.

Thu iy morning, November Ist, just
four days after the finding of the body, De-
teclive Sergeants Hopkinson and Don Jones
picked up John Kelley at his work.

At first he insisted that his wife was in
Boston-~that she had left Los Angeles on

October 19th and had telephoned him a
few days later. But when informed that
his two boys had been questioned by other
oflicers and had told them she left on the
l4th, he gave up the attempt at deception.

“All right, PH tell you what happened.”

He said that he and Margaret had quar-
reled constantly about money—that he
never could make enough to satisfy her,
even when he worked double shifts. Also,
he told the deputies, she accused him of
chasing other women, and they often fought
over his triendship with M Dorrance.
Margaret was bigger and huskier than her
slight husband, and often in their argu-
ments was able to slap him around.

“It was on Saturday afternoon, the 13th,”
“The kids had pone to a movie
sitting around drinking wine
She owas ongesdaes me abort
went

he said,
und we were
wind beat

money. fo vot up and tito the bed-

room to get away from her nagging. She
followed me and screamed that I wasn’t
making enough money.

“Then she slapped me, scratched my
face real deep. That made me mad. IT
stepped around behind her and looped
my arm around her neck and squeezed
until she went limp. She slumped to the
floor. I tried to revive her, but it was
no use. She was dead. I hadn’t meant
to kill her. I just lost control of myself.”

Then, he related, he determined to get
rid of the body. He got the trunk from
the garage—an old trunk they had bor-
rowed from a friend in Boston whose name
also started with a “K.”

“She was wearing only a housecoat,” he
said, “I took it off, crammed her in the
trunk, threw the housecoat and some other
clothes in, and closed the lid.”

He took the trunk into the boys’ bedroom.
When they returned he told them their
mother had left by plane for Boston and
that he bad brought in the trunk to get
some of her clothes from it.

When, by the folowing Wednesday
night, the boys complained of a “funny
smell” in their room, Kelley said he bor-
rowed Mrs. Dorrance’s car and took the
trunk with its grisly contents to the lot.

Kelley insisted he had not meant to kill
Margaret.

The homicide men who questioned Louise
Dorrance and her husband were fully con-
vinced that they had known nothing of
the killing. Kelley’s friendship with Mrs.
Dorrance was perfectly innocent and the
dead woman’s jealousy unfounded in fact.

At Kelley’s preliminary hearing before
Municipal Judge Clarke BE. Stephens, No-
vember 8th, 1951, Dr. Cefalu testified that
he was unable to determine the exact cause
of death, but that his findings were con-
sistent with strangling, as Kelley confessed.

Judge Stephens held Kelley without bail
for trict in Superior Court on a charge of
murder. Arraignment was November 29th,

Kelley's attorney, Sam Houston Allen,
wud he owottld base his defense on the
ground that murder could not be proved.

. Eprror’s Nove:
| The name, Mrs. Louise Dorrance, as
|
|

real name of the person concerned. This
person has been given a fictitious name

fo protect her identity.

used in the foregoing story, is not the
|
|
eae |
Ho Orbe |

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87


which produced no impressive cash crops, Stephen
Lewis decided he had had cnough of agriculture. He
imparted this information with some emphasis to
his wife. :

“There’s no sense in a men of my ability sweating
his life away on the soil. Farming is for suckers. I
can do better. All I need is a chance.”

His wife, a quiet, slim woman, inquired what her
husbarnd’s plans were.

“Ym getting into the selling racket. Salesmen
draw big commissions. I can talk. I know I can sell.
A guy’s got to like his job before he can be suc-
cessful in it. And I hate farming.”

There was truth in this speech, but it was rather
generalized. Mrs. Lewis asked her husband to be
specific. :

“Well,” said Lewis, “I’m going to the city-—Roch-
ester—and get a selling job. You and the boys will
remain here unti{l I’m in a position to send for you.
I'll send you some money cach week. After a while
Vl get a big house in town and we’ll all live in
luxury-—a darned sight better than we do on the
farm.”

“All right,” said his wife in a tone which stopped
just this side of resignation. “But what do you ex-
pect to sell in Rochester?”

This was a subject to which Lewis hadn’t given
much thought. “Oh,” he said airily, ‘automobiles.
Stocks and bonds. I might try for some big job with
the Eastman people.”

Three days later Stephen JLewis packed three
suiteases, climbed aboard the Rochester bus and
started along what he thought was the trail to fame
and fortune. Unfortunately, the trail led in an
entirely different direction.

It became immediately apparent that Rochester
was in no desperate need of automobile salesmen or
purveyors of stocks and bonds. The huge Eastman
Corporation, too, seemed rather blind to Lewis’
talents.

After a week of job seeking, Lewis lowered his
sights slightly. He settled for a position selling
vacuum cleaners in the field. If you’ve never done
it, that means door-to-door.

For a while things went evenly enough. Lewis
wasn’t the top drummer on the company’s list, nor
was he the bottom. He made enough money to sup-
port himself and send a few dollars back to his
family in Byron.

Then Stephen Lewis met Irene Anheier.

Irene was a striking, mature brunette of inde-
terminate age. Lewis first saw her in the early
morning at the office of the vacuum cleaner com-
pany for which he worked. He helped her carry her
sample case out into the street.

“This is my first day on the job,” she told him.
“Ym rather nervous.”

Lewis reassured her as they walked to the corner
together. ‘You know,” added Lewis, “I’ve just got
to sell one extra cleaner (Continued on page 85)

Suspect in Anheier case led to New York State Police car by Technical Sergeant Long of Troop A

rt nso

RARER


arged

s pal. Griilo.
din the course
me established

the series ol

hich had re
pecial oicer
and William
ring in Ralph
Newar
er l4th, when
i in tracking
t in nearby
im they
fatal hold-
t.
ster} the

each Friday
9 and Officer

to the
ad and

Na-
Bank

Mcers that he
Ms procedure,
order for a
Grillo
gunmen
il holdup.
on’s effort to
ng the stickup
ccess,
clives George
took up the
Vita. Accord-
illegedly con-
‘nN responsible

and

who

to firing the
he Clay Street
-r weapon had
River.
‘ed, told them
c¢ found in the
> shooting had
his flight.
to be tied up
‘ro an official
nt career of
Disclosures
Stioning re-
iambermaid in
1 into custody
gang. It is
ty as a hotel
ut likely pros-
rs. Four other
n into custody
organization.
seman on the
Law belonged,
with il-
e gun which

neter Beretta
of the Passaic
er 17th. On the
iducted at the
Trenton, the

it was the

youthful sus-
t least twenty-
ark area have

Joseph Grillo,
Rosanio were
yed with first-
recinet Court.
were ordered
me time, Grillo

iarges of armed

ir charges. Al-
murder, eight
dq COM pain
3s charges of

Rosanio, De
d by an Essex
ier in the first

es Law. ‘Thus,
tlessly to vin-
pecehal officer

Open Season
om Musband«

(Coniiiued from page 35)
today. 1 iiust do it before noon, too.”

"Why?"

“To earn the extra commission which
will permit me to take you to lunch in the
best place in town,’

lrene laughed delightedly. She said, “It
you really do sell an extra cleaner, ll take

up on uv invitation.”

Lewis made the extra sale. | met his
new friend at 12:30 and they sate lunch

together. That was their first oficial date.
It was by no means their last.

Irene Anhecier marriea woman.
Her husband, Arthur, was a gypsum miner
who lived: on Lockport Road in the town
of Elba, some few miles from Batavia, the

Was a

seat of Genesee County in New York.
In February of 1950, Arthur «nd Irene
Anheiler hac indulged in one of those

matrimonial quarrels which assays far
more heat than light per syUable. Arthur
had threatened to leave the house forever.
But while he still mouthed his threats,
Irene packed her bag and Jeft. She jour-
neyed to Rochester and, since it was now
necessary for her to support herself, she
looked tor a job and found it with the same
concern which employed Stephen Lewis.

By the end of the year Lewis was in
love. He saw Irene Anheier at each pos-
sible opportunity. At Christmas time he
asked her to marry him.

The woman looked at him in surprise.
“Steve,” she suid, “this is all very tiattering.
But you forget that I'm married. You for-
get that you are, too.”

“We can get divorces,” said Lewis.

“This is New York State.” Irene Anheier
reminded him, “where there is but one
ground for divoree--acdultery. I’m sure
youll never catch my husband that way. I
doubt if your wite will giveyyou grounds,
either.”

This was a realistic viewpoint and
Stephen Lewis knew it. But he was in
jove and he was impatient. He suggested

that since this was true love it should not
be conventionally trammeled. They would
live together. magnificently defying con-
vention. This thing, he asserted. not quite
originally, was too big for both of them.
But it wasn't too big for Irene Anheier.

She just wasn't having any. She liked
Lewis. That much she admitted. She didn't
admit a great deal more.

Lewis, the frustrated lover, brooded.

Irene was still willing to see him. to go out
with him occasionally, even to work with
him at selling vacuum cleaners, but fur-
ther than that she was not prepared to go.
Invariably, she replied to Lewis’ impor-
tunities in the same way. THe wits married,
She was married. And no matter what their
personal desires were, any future together
was obviously impossible.

But Lewis refused to believe that the
rroblem was insoluble. He spent most of
his free time pondering it. Then one day
n the summev of 1951, he thought he had
ihe answer.

He reasoned, though hardly with Ein-
steinian logic, that Irene spurned him be-
cause he was not officially separated from
his wife. True, he wasn’t living with her.
She was still on the farm in Byron. Never-
theless, he hacdot formally parted from ber
as trene bad parted from her husband,

After some twisted thinking he arrived
at the conclusion that if he left his wife,
Prene Anheicr would look with more favor
upon his suit.

He comiiinicated with his family back
nm Byron and announced that he was irrev-
ocubly throush with them. THe told his

wife that he was quite willing that she
should sue him for divorce. He washed his
hands of all family life, then hurried back
to Rochester to inform his loved one of his
action.

When he entered Irene’s apartment she
was busily packing a suitcase. Lewis said
dramatically, “irene, I have left my wife
and family. Forever.”

Irene Anheier received this news with no
enthusiasm. “Well,” she said, “I suppose
you know what you're doing.”

“Of course, I do. Now there are no ob-
stacles in our way. Now we can live with
each other.”

Irene looked at him in utter amazement.
“Are you crazy?” she asked. “Nothing at
all has changed. You may have left your
wife, but I’m returning to my husband.”

Lewis stared at her, speechless with
shock,
“He’s been writing to me,” explained

Irene, “asking me to come back to him at
Iklba. He also phoned a little while ago. We
talked things over and I'm going back.”

Stephen Lewis looked like a man who
had just staked his last dollar on a crooked
roulette wheel. “What?” he demanded pas-
sionately. “On the very day I leave my
wife, you decide to return to your hus-
band?”

Irene Anheier folded a slip and put it
into the suitcase. “I guess that’s the way it
is,” she said unemotionally.

Irene Anheier returned to her husband,
at his home on Lockport Road in Elba. But
Stephen Lewis didn’t give up romance as
easily as he'd given up farming. He bom-
barded her with high-temperature letters.
He telephoned her twice a day. When these
devices got him nowhere at all, he called
in person,

Considering the circumstances, Arthur
Anheier was an exceedingly patient man.
Anbcier, the same age as Lewis, was a tall,
balding individual with a roundish, ami-
able face. Moreover, he was tolerant.

During Lewis’ first visit, Anheier said,
“I realize that you're in love with my
wife. But so am I. And she obviously pre-
fers me. So there's really nothing to be
gained by your coming here and arguing
with her.”

Lewis struck a dramatic pose and
thumped his chest with his fist. “I love her,”
he declaimed. “I cannot give up the woman
I love.”

“It's been done before.” said Anheier
drily. “Seriously, Lewis, I can’t permit you
to upset my wife like this. I'm sorry for
you, but nothing can be done about it.
Just keep away from this house and Irene.
Someday you'll forget all about it.”

But Lewis didn't keep away. He paid
three more personal calls, supplemented
with a score of letters and telephone calls.

At last, at her husbands suggestion, Irene
wrote Lewis a letter of utter finality. She

told him flatly that she never wanted to see.

him again, Towas as cmiphatic as the [Eng-
lish languave could make it.

Lewis read the letter a dozen times. Like
many men in love, he could not bring him-
self to believe that the loved one didn’t
return his passion. Atter some considera-
tion, he decided that Arthur Anheier was
unduly influencing his wife against him.

For Irene’s sake, he had rid himself of
his wife. But Irene still retained her hus-
band. It didn’t seem fair, and the more
Lewis pondered it, the less fair it seemed.

If Jrene’s husband could be gotten rid of
—if he didn’t exist--then, Lewis was sure,
there would be no problem oat all He
turned this over in his mind and eventually
came to his decision.

On Thanksgiving Day, Lewis borrowed
a car and drove to the home = of his
brother. There he requested the loan of a
12-vaure shotyun,

Hlis brother asked
the shotrun

him why he wanted

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86

“Hunting. I’ve got a few days off. Might
as well go out and get'myself a deer.”

That seemed reasonable enough. His
brother loaned Lewis the weapon and he
took the run back to Rochester.

The deer-hunting season opened ofli-
cially in Genesee County at 7 o'clock on
the morning of November 23rd. Stephen
Lewis jumped the gun by half an hour. It
is certain he bagged the tirst trophy of the
year. Unfortunately for everyone con-
cerned, it wasn’t a deer.

The Anheiers had risen early. By 6:30
they had already breakfasted. Arthur An-
heier picked up the lunch pail which his
wife had filled. He kissed her and walked
into the yard toward his parked car.

It was exactly 6:33 when Irene Anheier
heard what she thought was a backfire. She
walked to the kitchen window and pcered
out into the cold, dark morning. Dimly,
she saw the outline of their car. Oddly
enough, she didn't see Arthur.

She threw a coat about her shoulders
and went out into the yard. As she ap-
proached the car she saw her husband. He
was lying on his back and his glazed eyes
stared into the gray dawn. Trene knelt
at his side, shook his arm and said, “Ar-
thur! Arthur! What’s the matter?”

Then she saw the ugly stain on _ his
mackinaw, directly over his heart. She
uttered a sharp cry and raced back into the
house. F

Her telephone call was routed through
to Inspector Harry M. DeHollander, head
of the Bureau of Criminal Investigation of
Troop A, New York State Police. DeHol-
lander immediately dispatched Sergeants
George S. Woods and C. A. Stephens to the
Anheier home. A few moments later they
were joined by District Attorney Wallace
W. Stakel.

It needed no medical expert to see that
Arthur Anheier was dead. He had been
shot cleanly through the heart with a deer
slug.

Stakel entered the house to talk to Irene.
Stephens and Woods searched the imme-
diate terrain for any clue which might
have been left by the man who had fired
the lethal shot. .

When a man is shot in Genesee County
during the deer season, there is one ob-
vious solution to the mystery. Careless
hunters are the bane of the countryside.
Each year the casualties mount. Accidental
deaths caused by trigger-happ¥ Nimrods
pile up and swell the mortality tables.

That was the first thought which oc-
curred to Sergeant Stephens.

“Looks as if some damned fool hunter
beat the gun,” he said to Woods. “Came
out looking for deer before it was light
enough to see, and got Anheier instead. He
was awful close to him, though.”

Woods nodded. “Those guys get worse
and worse every year. They should be
more careful who they give hunting li-
censes to.”

Having found no clue to the identity of
the slayer, they went back to the house.
There, the district attorney was vainly
trying to calm the hysterical Irene An-
heier. She certainly was in no condition to
answer questions. The family doctor was
sent for.

In the meantime, the coroner arrived and
ordered the body of Arthur Anheier re-
moved to the mortuary at Batavia for de-
tailed examination.

There was another man who had beaten
the opening of the deer season that morn-
ing. His name was Clayton Tolliner. Tol-
liner was a farmer who had sallied forth
in the early dawn looking for a deer. He
spotted one—or at least thought he had—
at ten minutes before seven. Breaking the
game laws by ten minutes, he had blasted
away.

Unfortunately for Tolliner, his premature
action had been observed by a pair of

hunters waiting for the legal deadline.
Therefore, when it became known that
the staté police were seeking a hunter who
had started to shoot before 7 a.m., the two
Witnesses reported that Chayton ‘Tolliner
had begun to shoot ten minutes before he
should have. At that time he was within a
few hundred yards of the Anheier place.

Sergeant Stephens sent a detachment
into the woods to pick up Tolliner. Brought
back to the barracks, the farmer said em-
barrassedly, “All right, so I started too
early. But it was only ten minutes. You
can’t hang a guy for that, can you?”

Stephens eyed him coldly, “Not for that,”
he said. “But you can be electrocuted for
murder in this state.”

Tolliner’s jaw dropped. His eyes opened
wide. He repeated in a hoarse, strangled
voice, “Murder?”

“Perhaps not murder, technically,” said
the trooper. “But it’s just as bad, as far as
Mrs. Anheier’s concerned. Her husband is
dead. Killed, apparently, by a hunter who
beat the gun by half an hour this morn-
ing.”

Tolliner recovered some of his calm. THe
admitted that he had shot at a deer before
the legal time. That, he was guilty of. But
of killing Arthur Anheier? Vehemently, no!

JUSTICE TRIUMPHS

Two pickpockets boarded a trolley
bus in Cleveland, Ohio, recently and
filched a wallet from a passenger. They
were not sufficiently adroit in this act
and were seen, but they did manage
to get off the bus before they could
be apprehended.

After fleeing for several blocks
through an alley, they came to the
main street where they saw a_ bus
coming in their direction. To hasten
their getaway the pair climbed aboard.

Bedlam reigned. I+ was the same
bus—and the victim was still aboard!

—J. G. Reed

Inspector DeHollander came into the
room. He had just received the coroner’s
preliminary report over the telephone. He
held in his hand a slip of paper with some
notes.

He listened to the farmer’s worried
denials for a moment, then said abruptly,
“How tall are you, Tolliner?”

The hunter registered surprise, but an-
swered, “Just under 6 feet. About 5 feet
11, I guess.”

DeHollander nodded curtly. He said to
— “That fact will probably clear

im.”

Stephens looked inquiringly at his su-
perior. The inspector continued, “Anheier
was shot at close range. It appears the
slug entered his chest at a slight angle,
moving upwards. The angle isn’t acute
enough to be explained by a man firing
from a kneeling or prone position, so the
natural inference is that he was _ short,
considerably shorter than Anheier.”

Stephens nodded. “That makes sense. I
suppose the medicos got the slug?”

“Yes, Ballistics has it now. You were
right on that. It was a deer slug that killed
him. Moreover, I’m seriously beginning to
doubt that it was an accident.”

“Why? Has Mrs. Anheier talked to Stakel
yet?”

“No. She’s still under her own doctor’s
care. But it was quite dark at 6:30 this
morning. There wasn’t any light until about
15 minutes later. The man who shot An-
heier was right in his own backyard. What
was he doing there, if he was deer hunt-
ing?”

“You mean,” said Stephens, “that some-

one was waiting outside the house to kill
him deliberately?”

Inspector DeHollander — said curtly,
“That's what it looks like now.”

Suspielon was removed from Poller al
most as swiltly as if had settled there. He

wasn't freed, however. Instead, he was
handed over to the game wardens, charged
with violating the hunting regulations.

Now that the officials had definitely de-
cided that murder had been done, Ser-
geants Stephens and Woods returned to the
Anheier house to conduet a more intensive
search for clues. District Attorney Stakel
stood by, ready to question Mrs, Anheier
as soon as the doctor gave his permission.

During the day, Technical Sergeant John
M. Long of Troop A had been assigned the
job of standing by at the house on Lockport
Robd. He found it a dull task. Then at 5
o'clock in the evening the telephone rang.
Long answered it.

A voice said, “Is Irene there?”

Long said, “Mrs. Anheier is under the
doctor’s care. She can't come to the phone
Is there any message?”

There was a tons pause, then the voice
said slowly, “Yes. ‘Tell her not to worry.
Everything’s going to be all right for the
future.”

That was not only a cryptic message. It
was a downright suspicious one. Long said
swiftly, “Who is this? Who's talking?” But
the only answer was the soft click of a
receiver being hung up at the other end.

Long immediately rang the telephone
operator. He gave her his name and rank
and said, “Trace that last call, please. And
hurry.”

As he waited, Sergeants Woods and
Stephens came into the room, They had
examined every inch of the Anheier prop-
erty and found nothing which might throw
any light upon the wanton killing,

Long apprised them of the mysterious
telephone call. He related the curious mes-
sage the caller had left for Mrs. Anheciecr

The phone rang again. Long picked it up.
The operator said, ‘That last call to your
number was made from Rochester. From
a telephone booth in a drugstore located in
the 1400 block of Main Street, East.”

As Long reported this message to his
confreres, the doctor came into the room.
“Mrs. Anheier’s much better now,” he an-
nounced. “You may take her over to the
district attorney’s office, if he wants to see
her.”

It was arranged that Long and Woods
would escort the widow to Stakel’s office.
Stephens would pick up Corporal E. F.
Anderson of the Clarkson station and head
for Rochester in search of the man who
had made the curious telephone call.

It was night when the two officers found
the drugstore on the 1400 block of Main
Street, East. Stephens questioned the pro-
prietor.

“Around 5 o’clock?” the druggist re-
peated thoughtfully. “Yeah, I recall now.
Steve Lewis was in then. He bought some
razor blades. He seemed kind of nervous.
But I’m not sure whether or not he made a
phone call. I got an outside call, myself.
around that time.”

“Do you know where this Lewis lives?”

“Sure. Right down the block. Number
1421 Main Street.”

Five minutes later the troopers were
pounding at the door of Stephen Lewis’
apartment. Stephens and Anderson noted
two things simultaneously as Lewis opened
the door. One, that the man was barely 5
feet tall; the other, that there was a 12-
gauge shotgun standing in the corner.

Lewis blinked at his unbidden guests.
“What's wrong?” he said. “Anything the
matter?”

“Yes,” said Stephens. “Did you make a
telephone cail to the Anheier home at 5
o'clock this afternoon?”

“Me?” said Lewis. “No. Not me.”

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CASE FILE

Some recent cases brought you by TRUE
DeErTecTIvE had not finally been disposed
of when the issue went to press. To keep
our readers informed, we will bring you
in each issue of TD a Case File report.

i MARRIED MURDER

(May, 1952)

One of the most absorbing stories ever
published in this magazine was Barbara
Pennington’s own account of her tragic
experience, Discovering, cight days af-
ter her marriage, that her husband was
a murderer, Barbara knew that she had
to report it to the police. Her first re-
action was to stand by the man she had
married. But later, able to look at the
unfortunate situation more objectively,
she advises us that she has decided to
ask the courts to grant her an annulment
of her marriage. She plans to return to
her family in England. Robert Penning-
ton was tried in Los Angeles on a charge
of second-degree murder for the slaying
of his first wife, Mrs. Helen Beitz, be-
fore he had met Barbara, He was sen-
tenced on December 7th, 1951, to serve
5 years to life.

VENGEANCE IN THE SKY
(April, 1952)

Probably the first man to be kidnaped
by airplane was Gregorio Simonovich,
who long had found it) profitable to
smuggle aliens inte the country. A
erafty, unscrupulous and conscienceless
man, he also found it profitable to
doublecross them and collect a reward
for turning them in. Government agents
had been on his trail for many years,
but it remained for some of his victims
to engineer the successful abduction and
notify U.S. agents when and where the
plane would land with the wanted man.
Found guilty of conspiracy to smuggle
aliens into the United States, Simono-
vich was sentenced on February 21st,
1952, to serve 21 months in federal
prison,

KIDNAPED BLONDE AND THE
CORPSE IN THE HAYSTACK

(April, 1952)

If Robert Thwing had not kidnaped and
criminally assaulted a young school-
teacher, the slaying of his uncle, Harvey
Burr, near Kimball, South Dakota, on
November 13th, 1951, might not have
been traced to him. The young woman
was able to supply police with evidence
which led to his conviction for first-de-
agree murder = on April) 20th, 1952.
Thwing was given a life sentence.

OPEN SEASON ON HUSBANDS

(March, 1952)

Stephen Lewis made two mistakes. The
first was to fall in love with a married
woman. The sccond, and more serious
one, was to remove her husband by
shooting him. The bereaved wife, who
had not returned his affection, directed
the attention of the police to Lewis. He
was tried and convicted of first-degree
murder and sentenced on May 5th,

1952, to die in the electric chair for the
slaying of Arthur Anheier on Novembee
23rd, 1951, in Batavia, New York.

THE SUTTON STORY

(June, 195%)

Willie Sutton once more wears the aum-
ber he abandoned when he escaped from
Sing Sing in 1932. Ue still has 29 years
to serve of the sentieonce he wis under
at that time. When recaptured this
spring through his identification by un-
fortunate young Arnold Schuster, Willioc
and his pal, Thomas Kling, faced trial
in Queens County Court for robbery of
the Manufacturers Trust Company of
$63,942 on April Ist, 1950. Both were
sentenced to from 30 years to life, as
fourth offenders. Kling also was sen-
tenced to 15 years to life on his plea of
guilty to a weapons charge.

FLAMING GREED

(December, 1951)

Two men were recently brought to trial
on a first-degree murder charge for the
death of Detective James L. Daggett
during a loft fire in New York City on
September LOth, 1951. Abraham Kesh-
ner, owner of the loft, was convicted and
faces the death sentence. Acquitted on
the murder charge was Keshnee’s part-
nev in business, Jacob Mayron.

HARRY BURTON

(June, U2)

‘Lried in a Los Angeles court for the
‘murder of Robert Crane, a fight man.
ager, in October, 1947, Harry Burton,
who had been on the FBI's list of “10
most wanted men,” was acquitted and
released on May 12th, 1952.) Witnesses
failed to identify Burton, and Judge
Kdwin LL. Jefferson, holding that the case
against him had not been proved, or-
dered his acquittal.

WOMEN TERRORIZED

(June, 1952

A woman’s hysterical scream ripped
through the Chicago courtroom. ‘Why
dowt you electrocute him and get it
over with?” the woman shrieked. She
was Mrs. Hildegard Schwartz, mother of
17-year-old Thomas F. Schwartz, whom
Superior Court Judge Rudolph DeSort
had just sentenced to 75 years for rape,
10 years to life for burglary, 10 to 20
years for robbery and 10 to 14 years for
assault) with intent to kill, the sen-
tences to run concurrently, Young
Schwartz, whom the prosecution had
called “ao one-man crime wave,” had
pleaded guilty to all the charges except
the rape, beating and robbery of a 42-
year-old) mother on the night of Jan-
wary 14th, 1952, whose subsequent
identification of him led to his arrest.

“You realize, of course, sir, that | can't commit
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STARTLING DETECTIVE

BY DAVID R. GEORGE

ving » At 9’clock that morning, Arthur F. Anheier arose and

y of, dressed injhis modest farm home on Lockport Road near j
22 was’ Elba, seven miles north of Batavia. Tall, slim and partly
«bald, the 42-year-old Anheier had breakfast with his pretty,
‘darkthaired wife, Irene, 33, and their two young children.
i he left the one-story house by the rear door to start
his ‘five-mile drive to work at the United States

mpany plant in Oakfield.

“Minutes passed before the back door opened and Mrs.
nhei ¢ame out into the yard. She had gone but a few
when. she saw the body of her husband lying


CASE FILE

Some recent cases brought you by
TRUE DETECTIVE had not finally
been disposed of when the issue
went to press. To keep our readers
informed, we will bring you in each
issue of TD a Case File report.

GHOST TOWN SLAYER

(January, 1953)

On the 16th of November, 1951, in
the little village of Panama, Illinois,
John Cerkvenick, 70, and his wife,
Joanna, 59, were found slain. An-
ton Nowak, former mayor of Pana-
ma, was charged with the crime. His
first trial resulted in a hung jury.
On the second trial Judge Ward P.
Holt heard the case without a jury
and Nowak was acquitted.

Judge Holt said, “It is better that
a hundred guilty men go free than
that one innocent man should be
punished. I am not saying that this
man did not commit the crime as
charged in the indictment, but the
evidence does not show that he did.
It is the finding of this court that
the defendant, Anton Nowak, is not
guilty. He shall be released im-
mediately.”

BROTHER RATS

(March, 1951)

On January 3rd,: 1953, Turman
Wilson, aged 26, and his brother,
Utah, 22, were hanged at the Wash-
ington State Penitentiary in Walla
Walla for the vicious kidnap-rape-
murder of 18-year-old JoAnn Dewey
at Vancouver, Washington, in
March of 1950. The brothers main-
tained their claims of innocence to
the end. They had been reprieved
from execution on three previous
occasions through legal moves by
their attorneys and once by Gover-
nor Arthur B. Langlie, who ordered
a special investigation. Later, he an-
nounced there was no reason to set
aside the decision of the court.

The victim, JoAnn Dewey, was
returning home from work when
she was seized by the two men,
beaten unmercifully and forced into
their automobile. Her ravaged, mu-
tilated body was found a week later
by fishermen in a river 50 miles
east of Vancouver. The Wilson
brothers were each convicted on
separate charges of murder and kid-
naping in the first degree.

OPEN SEASON ON
HUSBANDS

(March, 1952)

Stephen D. Lewis, who had been
tried and convicted of first-degree
murder in the early morning shot-
gun slaying of Arthur Anheier in
Batavia, New York, was _ electro-
cuted on January 22nd, 1953. He
entered the death chamber at Sing
Sing Prison at 11:02 P.M. and was
pronounced dead five minutes later.
Lewis, who had hoped for a second
reprieve similar to the one he had
received two weeks previously
smiled slightly but made no state-
ment as he walked to his doom.

Who was...

THE MAN WITH
1,000,000 ENEMIES?

Violence was his way of life
and led to his inevitable doom

Don’t Miss This Excitin: Mystery

in May

MASTER
DETECTIVE

Magazine

at newsstands now

From all over the nation come stories of headline-
making crimes—complete with photographs—as

told from official police files.
You'll Thrill to

* MISTRESS OF MURDER
* LOVE FOR A SLAYER
* MY SEARCH FOR A CORPSE

Get
MAY

MASTER DETECTIVE

| Magazine
}

j
/
/

at newsstands now

59


on his back under a tree some twenty feet from the
house.

Running to his side, she found blood oozing from a
shotgun wound in his chest. There was no sign of life. Mrs.
Anheier clapped one hand over her mouth to stifle a scream
for fear of frightening. the children. Then she hurried back
inside and called the state police.

Anheier was dead when officers of Troop A reached the
scene with a.local physician, who said the wound had been
fatal within a few minutes. To Inspector Harry M.
DeHollander and Sgt. George S. Wood of the Bureau of
Criminal Investigation, Anheier’s death appeared another
hunting accident.

Coroner Erwin A. Cole agreed this was likely, and
ordered the body removed to a Batavia mortuary for an
autopsy. While state troopers at Inspector DeHollander’s
direction began a canvass of the surrounding countryside
for the hunter whose gun had killed Anheier, the inspector
entered the victim’s house with Sergeant Wood and the
coroner to question his widow.

They found Mrs.:Anheier weeping in the small, neat
living room, seated on the sofa with her arms around the
whimpering children huddled close to their mother.

At the sight of the officers, Mrs. Anheier dried her eyes
and sent the children into the bedroom with words of re-
assurance. Then she turned toward the officers to answer
questions.

“Tell us just what happened,” DeHollander requested.

“I only wish I knew,” the slim young widow replied in
a low voice. “Arthur always was so careful about staying
away from the woods during the hunting season. You'd
never think hunters would get that close to the house.
And yet—”

“We're only assuming this was a hunting accident,”
Coroner Cole reminded her. “We can’t be really sure until
we know the results of the autopsy, and perhaps not‘even
then.”

“We want to know,” pressed the inspector, “what took
place here before your husband was shot. Now, start at the
beginning.”

Mrs. Anheier then told how her husband arose early
that morning, ate his breakfast and started out for the car
to drive to work. A few moments after he left the house,
she heard his car backfire, at least that was what she
thought at the fime. But when she failed to hear her hus-
band’s car start up, she went outside to investigate. It was

then that she saw his body under a tree near the family.

sedan. Drawing closer, she noticed the shotgun wound
in his chest and ran inside to call police.

In answer to questions, she said that she had seen no
one in the vicinity, nor had she heard the sound of an
automobile motor, other than the report she took for a
backfire. The house was set well back from the road, and
the officers realized that normal traffic sounds hardly would
be audible behind closed doors.

Mrs. Anheier clearly was suffering from the shock of
her husband’s sudden death, and Inspector DeHollander
decided there was nothing more to be gained by question-
ing her further at this time. Willing neighbors had arrived
to take over the care of the children so that the widow
could rest, and Mrs. Anheier’s mother was understood to
be on her way there from Rochester.

As DeHollander, Coroner Cole and Sergeant Wood
emerged from the house, a state police car drove into the
yard. Corporal E. F. Anderson and Trooper C. T. Scharett
piled out of the car with a tall, husky young man in

‘ hunter’s garb. Anderson had a firm grasp on the hunter’s

arm, and Scharett held a shiny new 12-gauge shotgun, its
blue-black barrel gleaming in the morning sunlight.

“You'll want to talk to this fellow,” Anderson told the
inspector. “We found him a couple of miles up Lockport
Road. When he saw us coming, he ducked into the under-
brush. But he won’t say why. His gun has been recently
fired, and only one shell is missing from his cartridge vest.”

The corporal pointed to the natty hunter’s waistcoat, its
cartridge loops stuffed with shells, except for one on the
right side.

“T’ve got my hunting license and the season’s open,”
the young man declared indignantly. “What’s this all
about ?”

“A man has been shot to death here,” DeHollander
said evenly. “Probably by accident, but we’re trying to find
out how it happened.”

The hunter snorted. “I haven’t been within a mile of
this place,” he said. “Couldn’t have been my shot that did
it.”

“You seem pretty sure of that,” the inspector observed.
“You'd better come back to the barracks with us and tell
us all about your movements.”

Anderson and Scharett drove the young hunter to the
Troop A barracks in Batavia, while DeHollander and
Wood followed in their car. Coroner Cole returned to his
office in the Genesee County Courthouse, promising to let

[Continued on page 42]

After making his statement at the barracks, the
accused was put under guard of Sgt. Long.

Y

Laroi Anheier gazes sadly at spot
where his brother (inset) was shot.

rgnt wm wot Of the mouse, fle acaued,

At an indication from Wood, Anderson
started down to have a look at the ma-
chine. Then the sergeant turned again to
Lewis. “Have vou done any hunting re-
cently?”

“Why, yes I have,” the suspect replied
with a faint smile. “Didn’t get any deer,
but don’t think I broke any game laws,
either. Is that why you're here?”

sNOL CAACLIS, lic Slale O1liCel Welil
on, “Just where did you go hunting?”
Lewis ran a hand over his thinning hair
as he paused to think. “A couple of places
down in Genesee County,” he said at last.
“In the general area north of Batavia.”

“Orchard Swamp?” Wood inquired.

“Twas there, too. But I didn’t see any

deer, and so I finally gave up.”
“When was this?”

T WAS two o'clock Saturday morn-

ing, July 21, 1951, when the car
rolled to a quiet stop near the North-
ridge Milling Company at 8729 Reseda
Boulevard in Van Nuys, Cal. Four
figures sat silently in the auto parked
about fifty yards from the building.

Finally. one man emerged barefooted
and walked noiselessly up to the corner.
A few minutes later three others got
out carrying ropes and walked around
to the rear. They quickly scaled a fence,
ran across a gravel driveway and entered
the back door of the building by forcing
the lock.

Unerringly, they picked their way
through the darkened interior to another
door, opened it and entered a small
room. One of the trio produced a black-
out flashlight and played it on a huge,
black safe in the corner.

“Geez, Johnny, it looks heavy,’
one of the men.

“What did ya expect—a piggy bank?’

the one called Johnny answered sar-
castically. “Get the ropes around it so
we can lug it outta here.”
e The men worked diligently for a few
minutes and finally had their prize
wrapped up and ready to haul away.
After strenuous pulling, pushing and
lifting they managed to get the heavy
gafe as far as the back door they had
entered. Johnny instructed them to rest
there while he went out to open the
gate in the fence they had to climb over
on the way in.

After a bit he came back and said, “I
snapped the lock on the gate, Frank,
but we’re going to need help to carry
this thing to the car. Go tell Dusty to
forget the lookout and come back here
and help us.”

After Frank took off to get Dusty,
the man remaining with Johnny

said

46

whispered, “Do you think this safe is
as heavy with cash as you figured,
Johnny ?”

“Look, I told ya fifty times.” answered
Johnny, “when I heard that truck driver
in the bar talking about this joint he
said they paid off a big force in cash
on Saturday mornings. That’s why I
cased the place so carefully. The way
I figure it there should be at least twelve
grand in here.”

Just then Frank came back with
Dusty. Johnny gave orders for one man
to get on each corner of the safe and
to carry it to the car. They strained
every muscle in their bodies to get the
safe to the open gate where they unani-
mously put it down again. “Come on,”
Johnny panted exhaustedly, “don’t stop
now, let’s get this thing outta here.”

Again they lifted their heavy burden
and this time didn’t put it down until
they were at the rear of the car. The
trunk compartment was quickly opened
and they struggled long and strenuously
to lift it the two feet off the ground to
put it into the back of the car.

Then, breathing in gasps and sweat
streaming from every pore, they climbed
in the car. When Johnny slid behind
the wheel his hands and arms shook

_from the heavy exertion so that he could

hardly drive away.

At 9 o’clock that morning, Ralph Lan-
gon, a company executive, stood with
two employes looking at the vacant
spot where the safe had been. He
turned to the employes. “Well, it’s a
good thing you fellows get paid every
two weeks,” he said with a trace of
humor in his voice, “if this had hap-
pened last Saturday or next week you
would have been held up a few days for
your pay. As it is the safe was com-
pletely empty!” —By Jack Henebry

daiul sUayms AAAMLN DMI Addy AYA). 4404 LY
work vesterday, and today I was too
tired.”

The sergeant looked up as Anderson
appeared in the doorway, holding a 12-
gauge shotgun.

“Iound this out in your car,” he told
Lewis. “Is it yours?”

“As a matter of fact, it belongs to my
brother down in Steuben County,” the
salesman replied. “I borrowed it last week
to do some hunting when the season
opened.”

“The gun's been fired recently,” An-
derson told Wood, breaking it and hold-
ing the breech to his nostrils. “Smells
strongly of fresh powder.”

The sergeant turned quickly to the sus-
pect. “You said you didn’t see any deer.
Then what were you shooting at?”

“Oh, I did fire a couple of times into the
brush when I saw something moving,”
Lewis admitted with a shrug. “But noth-
ing happened, and I knew fia been mis-
taken.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive,” the salesman declared, but
his hand trembled as he raised it to light
a cigaret, and he averted his eyes.

“Get your coat,” Wood ordered. “We're
taking you to Batavia. The inspector
wants to have.a talk with you.”

Lewis did as he was told and silently
accompanied the officers down to their
car. Anderson took along the salesman’s
shotgun and a quantity of unfired shells
found in his car for examination by lab-
oratory technicians. ,

Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at
the Batavia Barracks and the suave sales-
man was led into DeHollander’s office.
He gave his full name as Stephen D. Lewis
and his age as 42—oddly, the same as that
of the dead man.

“When did you last see Irene Anheier?”
the inspector demanded.

EWIS frowned. “You mean that

woman who used to work with me?

Why, not for almost a year. Not since
she quit the agency and moved away.”

“How did you know she had moved?”

“She told me that’s what she planned
to do. We were friendly, and she said she
was going back to live with her husband.
She asked me to look them up some time,
but I never got around to it.”

“Then you also knew where she was?”
DeHollander pressed.

“Yes, she said their home was’in Oak-
dale.”

“Did you know she later moved away
from Oakdale?”

“No,” Lewis replied. “That's news to
me.”

“Are you sure about that?” pressed the
inspector. Then leaning forward in his
desk chair, Hollander said rapidly: “You
were madly in love with her, but her hus-

- band was in the way, and I think you

knew they had moved to Elba. So you
went hunting—not for deer, but for him.
Isn’t that the truth?”

Lewis appeared outwardly calm, but his
knuckles*were white as he gripped the
chair. “You’re wrong, Inspector,’ he
replied in a low voice. ‘I didn’t do it.”

DeHollander bit off the end of a fresh
cigar, got up from his chair and started
pacing the floor behind his desk, eyeing
the Rochester man sharply.

“You haven’t got anything on me,”
Lewis taunted. “Sure, I was fond of Irene
Anheier. I missed her when she left
Rochester. And I was hunting over this
way a couple of days ago. But that doesn’t
make me a murderer.”

The salesman’s effrontery exasperated
the inspector. “Let me tell you this,” he


SWAMI’S MISCUE

new a good thing when he
and when he saw the bottle
med in the back room of a
hall on Chicago’s South Side,
to cash in on the idea.

was simple enough. All he
was write something on a
per with an ink of copper
This smade the writing in-
en @:: was placed in an
tle “ich once contained
mmonia, however, the am-
s would bring out the secret

ch planning, Alex wrapped
round his head and called
rofessor Enos, ‘the Great
it done, he rented a tiny
Clark Street and went into
telling racket.

e trick was a terrific hit and
r did a land office business.
the dozen, mostly elderly
ked to his mystic parlor for
| ‘messages from the dead.”

lex wasn’t satisfied. Even
iis standard of living had im-
iderably, it wasn’t bringing
of dough he wanted.

peanuts!” he snorted, when
0k congratulated him one
of these days I'm going to
Dot with that trick!”

ly mystic made good his
ing after bigger game, and
ng before a rich widow,
ret Poholsky, fell into his
> had her hooked, he started
the business, via the bottle

ng ry and contact your
d,” ntoned in the sepul-
he reserved for his clients.
to place this piece of paper,
can see is devoid of any
put it into this bottle and
hen I have come out of
Iam sure we will have a

message from your late husband.”
Alex placed the paper in the bottle,
dimmed the lights and began to sway to
the tunes of a sing-song chant calculated
to impress the widow. After some ten
minutes of this hokus-pokus he snapped
on the lights and unscrewed the bottle.
. To Mrs. Poholsky’s amazement, there
was a message on the paper, and it was
addressed to her! It read:

“Dear Margaret: This message I
send to you from the other world.
Please go to the bank and draw
out $10,000 and give it to Professor
Enos, the Great Seer. He is your
friend. He will make you rich be-
yond your fondest dreams. F[are-
well, I am always with you in spirit.
If you love me, do as I ask.”

The widow was speechless. She read -

the note a second time and gave it to
the professor. The mystic read it and
smiled. :

“This happens frequently,” he nodded.
“T have helped many people this way.
What are you going to do?”

Mrs. Poholsky rose. “I am going to
the bank and draw out the money, of
course,” she declared.

After the widow had gone, Alex
rubbed his hands in glee. This, he
thought, was more like it. No more petty
contributions for him. He was big time!

The buzzer sounded and Alex hurried
to the door. Mrs. Poholsky, a grim
smile on her face, stalked in. She was
followed by two husky detectives who
quickly snapped handcuffs on the swami.

“What is the meaning of this out-
rage!" spluttered the indignant pro-
fessor.

“That bottle trick’s a very good gag,
swami,” grinned one of the officers.
“Most of the time it works. It would’ve
worked this time too, but you made one
mistake. You see, the late Mr. Poholsky
couldn't read or write!”

—By Charles L. Burgess

Wood and Corporal Anderson wondered
if this really put an end to the matter,

Rochester detectives informed them that

the amorous city widower, whose name
was Henry Flynn, had later been arrested
on an assault charge in the stabbing of
a serviceman during an argument over
a girl. Flynn was found guilty, but sen-
tence was suspended and he was released
on probation.

Checking with probation authorities,
they learned that Henry Flynn had moved
away from his furnished room in Ro-
chester two weeks ago without leaving
a forwarding address. He had failed to
appear for his monthly report, and thus
was subject to arrest.

It was late Friday evening when state
police officers and Rochester detectives,
working together, learned Flynn’s present
whereabouts. Through a restaurant man-
ager to whom he owed a sizable sum of
money, they obtained the suspect's new
address in Buffalo.

There, in a rooming house, Wood and
Anderson finally caught up with Flynn
shortly before midnight. The graving
widower had been drinking heavily and
was preparing to retire when the officers
appeared at his room. He readily ad-
mitted his identity and quickly explained
he had forgotten to report to the parole
authorities and was anxious to atone for
the oversight, :

“It may not be that easy, Flynn,” the
sergeant told him. “However, that’s a
matter for the Rochester officers to de-
cide. We want to know when you last
saw Irene Anheier.”

At the mention of the young matron’s
name, Flynn blinked and paled. “Why—
why, not for almost a year, since she
moved away from. Rochester,” he re-
plied. “Has anything happened to her?”

“NES, indirectly,” Wood nodded, with- -

out explaining further. “Now, tell
us—where were you between midnight
and 8 o’clock this morning?”

The color returned to Flynn's flabby
cheeks, “I—I don't like to say, but I sup-
pose I must,” he ventured.

“If you know what's good for you,”
retorted Anderson. |

The widower went on to explain that
he had spent the previous night in the
home of a married woman in Buffalo
while her husband was out of town.

“There was nothing wrong, you under-
stand,” he added quickly. “I just drank
too much and passed out on the living
room couch. She couldn’t awaken me and
let me stay there until morning.”

“Can you prove that ?”” Wood demanded.

“I think the woman will back me.up if
you feel it necessary to ask her,” Flynn
said. “Just what's involved?”

“Murder,” the sergeant replied. “Arthur
Anheier was shot to death this morning.”

At these words, the suspect swaved
and clutched the bedpost for support.
Then he fumbled into his clothes and
accompanied the officers out to their car.

Brought face to face with the woman
he said had been his involuntary hostess
the previous night, Flynn was clearly
terrified lest she deny his story. But the
buxom matron, an attractive redhead, did
not value her propriety to that extent.

“Sure, Henry was here all night,” she
said with the trace of a grin. “I thought
he’d stay out of trouble if I left him on
the couch. But what has he got into
now?”

“Nothing apparently,” Wood replied,
“except for a little parole matter in
Rochester.” :

Then Wood and Anderson returned to

Batavia and madea f
tor DeHollander.

“T still think the n
heier is someone whe
she was staying in Ro
tor declared. “The or
do is go back there
and start digging ag

Early Saturday, af
sleep, the sergeant an
back to the city wl
had lived during her
her husband. This ti
offices of the applianc
employed Mrs. Anhe
cleaners.

“There's not much
Mrs. Anheier,” a re
firm said, “because t]
with is the only one
Except for checking
day, she spent most of

“Who is he?” Wo

“Steve Lewis,” the
“He’s with us on a p:

“Where can we fir

The agency repres«
card index and then.
a slip of paper. “Tt
lives,” he said, handin
“He has a regular jol
but this is Saturday
him at home unless
for us.”

“One more questio
“Was there anything 1
relationship between
Anheier?”’

“T really couldn’t sz
replied. “But they did
close. I got the ide:
pretty hard for her,
she felt that way ali

OOD and And

Rochester Po:
where the sergeant
lander and advised hi
learned.

“This Lewis could
looking for,” Wood pc
a lot of time with |
they were working tc
was supposed to be p

“It's the best lead s
came back over the >
of Rochester officers
pick him up. Dependi
to say, we may que
further.”

Rochester Detectiv,
George DeVos acco:
Anderson to the addr
vacuum cleaner agen:
on Main Street, East

There the landlady,
of police, led them u
second floor. Enterir
locked door, they fot
a small table, making
comparative merits 0
uum cleaners.

A tall, slim man in |
quickly and turned 1
His face was sharp
dark, receding hair, d
cil-thin mustache. EF
fitting sweater over h

“Gentlemen, what ¢

“That's what we've
Wood replied, motion

Lewis complied ea
plete poise. “This ‘is
he continued in a low
I drive past a red li

“So you have a ¢
sergeant. “Is that it c

The salesman nodd

* cali

Anderson wondered

ar iment over |
und

ry Flynn had moved
ished room in Ro-

s. He had failed to
ly report, and thus
:,

evening when state

rned Fivnn’s present
h a restaurant man-
ed a sizable sum of

the suspect's new

re Liclese, Wood and
wht up with Flynn
ight. The graving
ritking heavily and
re when the officers
m. He readily ad-
id quickly explained
report to the parole
inx ious to atone for

it easy, Flynn,” the
"However, that’s a
ester officers to de-
10w when you last

the young matron’s
and paled. “Why--
a year, since she
Rochester,” he re-
hap*---1 to her?”

Wood nodded, with-
further. “Now, tell
between midnight
rning?”

| to Flynn's flabby
e to say, but I sup-
tured,

t's good for you,”

on to explain that
vious night in the
woman in Buffalo
is out of town.
wrong, you under-
ckly. “I just drank
out on the living
n't awaken me and
il morning.”
>” \Weood demanded.
will back me.up if
to ask her,” Flynn
olved?”
int replied. “Arthur
eath this morning.”
je suspect swaved
dpost for support.
o his clothes and
rs out to their car.
e with the woman
avoluntary hostess
lynn was clearly
his storv. But the
active redhead, did
, to that extent.

ere ‘ght,’ she
agi [ thought
le if _‘t him on
has he got into

Wood replied,
parole matter in

\

erson returned to

end to the matter,
informed them that'¢
idower, whose name}
d later been arrested &
e in the stabbing of 3

y, but sen- &
anc ..c .vas released «|

go without leaving “

ochester detectives, °

obation authorities, /'

AAAS, Se e+

ee Re been -
ee TO et Dok preteen Geeta eens

=

¥
¢
s
i

fiatavia and made a tull report to Lnspec-
ror DeHollander.

“T still think the man who killed An-
heier is someone who met his wife while
she was staying in Rochester,” the inspec-
tor declared. “The only thing for you to
do is go back there tomorrow morning
and start digging again.”

Early Saturday, after a few hours of
sleep, the sergeant and the corporal went
back to the city where Irene Anheier
had lived during her estrangement from
her hushand. This time they visited the
offices of the appliance agency which had
employed Mrs. Anheier to sell vacuum
cleaners.

“There’s not much I can tell you about
Mrs. Anheier,” a representative of the
firm said, “because the man she worked
with is the only one who knew her well.
Except for checking in here briefly each
day, she spent most of her time with him.”

“Who is he?” Wood demanded.

“Steve Lewis,” the agency man replied.
“He’s with us on a part-time basis now.”

“Where can we find him?”

The agency representative consulted a
card index and then wrote an address on
a slip of paper. “This is where Lewis
lives,” he said, handing it to the sergeant.
“He has a regular job in a local foundry,
but this is Saturday and you may find
him at home unless he’s out canvassing
for us.”

“One more question,” Wood ventured.
“Was there anything more than a business
relationship between Lewis and Irene
Anheier?”

“T really couldn’t say,” the agency man
replied. “But they did appear to be rather
close. I got the idea Lewis had fallen
pretty hard for her, but I don’t believe
she felt that way about him.”

OOD and Anderson went next to

Rochester Police Headquarters,
where the sergeant telephoned DeHol-
lander and advised him of what they had
learned. :

“This Lewis could be the man we're
looking for,” Wood pointed out. “He spent
a lot of time with Mrs. Anheier while
they were working together here, and he
was supposed to be pretty sweet on her.”

“It's the best lead so far,” DeHollander
came back over the wire. “Ask a couple
of Rochester officers to go with you and
pick him up. Depending upon what he has
to say, we may question Mrs. Anheier
further.”

Rochester Detectives Milton Wahl and
George DeVos accompanied Wood and
Anderson to the address furnished by the
vacuum cleaner agency, a rooming house
on Main Street, East.

There the landlady, startled at the sight
of police, led them up to a room on the
second floor. Entering through the un-
locked door, they found Lewis seated at
a small table, making out a report on the
comparative merits of two makes of vac-
uum cleaners.

A tall, slim man in his early 40s, he rose
quickly and turned toward the officers.
His face was sharply handsome, with
dark, receding hair, dark eyes and a pen-
cil-thin mustache. He wore a loosely-
fitting sweater over his shirt and loud tie.

“Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

“That's what we've come to find out,”
Wood replied, motioning him to sit down.

Lewis complied easily, showing com-
plete poise. “This ‘is all very puzzling,”
he continued in a low, smooth voice, “Did
I drive past a red light or something?”

“So you have a car,” countered the
sergeant. “Is that it outside?”

The salesman nodded. “The black sedan

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got the trunk, brought it into the house
and stuffed her body into it together
with some odd pieces of clothing and
placed it in the boys’ bedroom.

Jones didn’t wish to interrupt, but hor-
rified at Kelley’s last sentence he echoed,
“The boys’ bedroom!” .

Kelley shook his head sadly. “Yes, it
was a terrible thing to do to my boys.
They complained about the odor four days
later. I went to a friend, Mrs. Susan
Green, who works near the place I do.
I know her husband well. I borrowed her
car to put the trunk in. My wife was
jealous of Mrs. Green, but there was ab-
solutely nothing between us; I simply
rode with her to work, that's all.”

He said the boys kept asking about
their mother, and he told them she’d re-

ceived a telegram saying their grand-
father was dying of heart trouble in Bos-
ton. He further made them believe he
had sent his wife to the airport in a cab.

The initials KTK stenciled on the trunk
stood for Katherine Theresa Kelley, a
neighbor in Boston, from whom they had
borrowed it some time before.

Jones and Hopkinson took Kelley into

.custody, with apparently only one ques-

tion not definitely answered. That is:
How did the slightly built John Kelley
muster the power to wedge his rather
husky wife’s body into the narrow con-
fines of the trunk. One theory advanced
is that his desperation in an effort to
hide the body gave him momentarily al-
most unbelievable strength.

During a preliminary hearing before

Los Angeles Judge Clark E. Stephen No

vember 8, Detective Don Jones testifie
for three hours. At the conclusion, Kelley

was ordered held without bail for ar-.

raignment in Superior Court.

From her trunk coffin, the finger of Ps

Margaret Kelley had pointed accusingly

at her husband who, on December 18, .

pleaded guilty to manslaughter. The
charge was reduced in view of the failure
of the autopsy to determine the exact
cause of death. On January 10, Kelley
was given a State prison sentence of from
one to ten years on the manslaughter
count.

(The names Mary Meredith, Susan Green and
Jerry Lopes are fictitious to protect the identity
of persons innocently involved in the investiga-
tion.—-The Editor.)

Lover’s Ambush

[Continued from page 19}

the inspector know the results of the
autopsy on Anheier as soon as it was
completed.

The young man with the new 12-gauge
shotgun, seated in DeHollander’s office.
identified himself as Calvin Ford, 21, of
Elba. He had purchased the weapon, the
shells and the hunting outfit he wore only
the day before Thanksgiving, he said,
planning to bag a deer for his girl friend.

He had no opportunity to try out the
gun on Thanksgiving Day, he continued.
For that reason, he had arisen early Fri-
day and, shortly after sunrise, had fired
one shell at a fleeing buck.

Sergeant Wood looked up at Inspector
DeHollander. “If Ford didn’t fire his gun
until after sunrise,” he pointed out, “then
he couldn’t have killed Anheier. We got
the call from Mrs. Anheier around 6:45,
and the sun didn’t come up until after
7:15, according to the official data of the
weather bureau.”

“You know it isn't legal to shoot deer,
even in season, between 5 p.m. and 7 a.m.,”
Ford volunteered.

DeHollander nodded. “Assuming you
fired that shot after sunrise, where were
you standing at the time?”

“Down at the edge of Orchard Swamp,”
Ford replied. “It’s the only fair deer cover
in this section. The sun was just up when
I saw a buck flash through the brush, so
I let go. I’d say that was about 7:20 or so,
although I didn’t look at my watch.”

Orchard Swamp, the officers knew, was
more than a mile from the Anheier farm,
and the “pumpkin” deer slug from his gun
would not carry much more than 150 yards
at most.

While DeHollander and Wood were
questioning Calvin Ford, Anderson and
Scharett were making inquiries in Elba
concerning the young man’s personal af-
fairs. He had freely said he knew Arthur
Anheier and his pretty wife, and the in-
spector had asked the troopers to find
out how close the relationship was.

After all, Ford had just purchased the
gun.and then, after letting it lie idle for
a day, suddenly had gone out to use it
around the hour when Anheier was fatally
shot. If Ford had been on bad terms with
the Anheiers, there might be a hidden
reason for the early morning hunt.

When Anderson and Scharett reported
back to the barracks later that morning,
the inspector thought he had the answer.
Less than two weeks ago, the troopers
told him, Calvin Ford had engaged in an

42

altercation with Arthur Anheier at a
roadside tavern just north of Elba.

“According to the bartender,” Ander-.

son said, “Anheier accused Ford of steal-
ing a $20 bill of his from the bar while he
was in the men’s room. Ford denied it,
and their heated words had led to blows.
Finally, the barkeep separated them and
tossed out Ford. He remembers Ford
vee meal Anheier, ‘I’ll get you for
this !’”

Questioned further, Ford admitted that
the row with Anheier was the reason he
had tried to evade the troopers when
they.stopped to talk with him. He said he
was afraid Anheier had sworn out an
assault warrant for him. But he vigor-
ously denied any connection with the fatal
shooting.

Sergeant Wood told Inspector DeHol-
lander privately that he felt Ford was
telling the truth. The hunter was more
than two miles from the death scene
when picked up, Wood pointed out, and
it was unlikely he could have gone that
far from the Anheier farm by that time
unless he had a car. Investigation had
shown Ford did not own one. On the
other hand, he might have thumbed a ride
along Lockport Road.

Fe RD’S story looked even better when
Dr. Joseph Tannerburg of the Genesee
County Laboratory disclosed the results
of his autopsy shortly before noon. An-
heier had been killed by a deer slug which
entered his chest and severed a blood
vessel, the medical examiner reported.

‘Part of the slug wadding was imbedded

in the wound and powder had penetrated
the flesh, indicating that the shot was
fired at close range.

Advised of this, DeHollander ruled out
all possibility of a hunting accident. He
felt sure that the killer had come to the
scene and fled in a car, since Mrs. Anheier
had seen no one in the vicinity when she
some out of the house so soon after the
shot. .

With what evidence there was support-
ing Ford’s story, the inspector allowed
him to leave. But in view of his quarrel
with the victim, Inspector DeHollander
warned Ford to keep himself available.

Now that the autopsy findings proved
that Arthur Anheier was murdered, De-
Hollander and Wood strove to establish
the motive, which they realized must be
stronger than a mere tavern row. The
officers were well aware that the victim's
wife was unusually attractive and almost
ten years vounger than her husband. They
had no reason to believe that a love tri-
angle of any kind existed, but in such
circumstances there was always the possi-
bility of a jealous former suitor or a frus-

trated admirer who wanted the husband
out of the way.

“Even if it were a lover’s ambush,” the
inspector reflected, “Mrs. Anheier easily
could be entirely innocent of any knowl-
edge of it. On the other hand, it’s probable
she would know the identity of such a
man—even if she had given him no en-
couragement whatsoever.”

He paused and then went on, “But she
might be afraid of retribution if she names
him, For that reason, I think our initial
inquiries along this line should be made
quietly without going to her and without
her knowledge.”

Wood agreed entirely with this ap-
proach, and left the barracks with
Corporal Anderson at once to seek in-
formation about Irene Anheier’s back-
ground, associations and activities.

Through discreet interviews with
townspeople who knew Mrs, Anheier,
Wood and Anderson learned that she had
been estranged from her husband for a
period of several months beginning in
February, 1950. At that time, Mrs. An-
heier had returned to live with her mother
in Rochester, some thirty miles away.

The officers reported this information
back to DeHollander. “Now we're getting
somewhere,” he said. “You men go to
Rochester and continue your investiga-
tion there with the help of city detectives.
Find out who Mrs. Anheier’s friends were
and what she did while staying there.”

In the large up-state manufacturing
city, Wood and Anderson soon found the
neighborhood in which the victim’s widow
had lived. Accompanied by Rochester
officers, they interviewed former friends
and acquaintances of Mrs. Anheier during
the period she had been separated from
her husband.

All agreed that the pretty young bru-
nette was a woman of good character and
reputation. She had worked most of that
time for a vacuum cleaner sales agency
as a door-to-door canvasser. As for her
social life, she had complained of loneli-
ness but as a married woman was re-
luctant to have dates with other men.
When she did go out evenings, it was
in the company of women friends.

But there had been one man, the officers
learned, who became infatuated with Mrs.
Anheier despite her efforts to discourage
his attentions. This man, a widower in
his early 50s, had demanded that she di-
vorce her husband and marry him. She
refused to take the widower seriously,
but this only served to intensify his ob-
session. He telephoned her at all hours
and tried constantly to see her.

This difficult situation was solved when
Irene Anheier left Rochester and returned
to live with her husband. But Sergeant

[Continued on page 44]

.

eg 7 git taee SR

SAE | es arn sa an A

law Boas Layee dea eigen te agec o>

Hoke


ae ee aes

declared, shaking his cigar tor emphasis.
“The lab technicians are comparing your
shells and test shots from your gun with
the slug and wadding taken out of the
body.”

“That’s beside the point, because I didn’t
kill the man,” Lewis insisted. “But don’t
try to scare me. I know something about
ballistics. Shotgun slugs are hard to
match, and the wadding is the same in
most shells. That slug could have come
from any gun.”

“You keep on,” DeHollander snapped,
“and you'll outsmart yourself!”

The inspector and his men were aware,
however, that there was a good deal of
truth in what Lewis said. They had not
yet sufficient evidence to prove a motive,
and pending a report from the ballistics
experts, nothing with which to break
down Lewis’ firm denials.

Soon after Lewis was brought to the
barracks, DeHollander had sent Wood
out to question Mrs. Anheier. If Lewis
had kept his friendship with her alive, the
inspector would have a lever to use
against the salesman.

Later that afternoon, Sergeant Wood
arrived at the Genesee County Court-
house with the pretty widow, who had
accompanied him from her farm home.
He escorted her to the office of District
Attorney Wallace G. Stackel. -

“I’ve been talking with Mrs. Anheier
for several hours,” Wood told the district
attorney, “and I think she has some im-
portant information for you.”

“Fine,” Stackel declared, motioning the
pale young woman to a chair beside his
desk. “I want to hear everything you can
tell me. That’s the only way we can bring
your husband’s killer to justice.”

U NDER the prosecutor’s gentle inter-
rogation, Irene Anheier unburdened

Oc: She had first met Steve Lewis in

February, 1950, when she became es-
tranged from her husband and went to live
with her mother in Rochester. She had
worked with him selling vacuum cleaners,
and he had become attentive to her, even
though she tried to discourage him.

After she went back to live with her
husband, Mrs. Anheier said, Lewis con-
tinued ot call on her at their home, then
in Oakdale, and also after they moved to
Elba in July, 1951. These visits were bit-
terly resented by Arthur Anheier, who
knew of the salesman's previous atten-
tions to his wife.

Mrs. Anheier said she did everything
she could to discourage Lewis from visit-
ing her, and only a month ago she wrote

‘him a letter telling him to stay away.

On Monday or Tuesday before Thanks-

HW’ giving—she did not recall which—Lewis

phoned her and said he was coming to
Elba on Thursday and would stop at the
house to see her. She begged him not
to do so, but he ignored her pleas.

On Thursday, Lewis failed to show up
at the Anheier home. Mrs. Anheier
breathed easier, feeling that perhaps he
had decided not to bother her any more.

Then on Friday morning, Arthur An-
heier had walked out of the house into
the ambush.

“What did Lewis say when he tele-
phoned you earlier this week?” District
Attorney Stackel asked the widow. “Did
he threaten you or your husband?”

Mrs. Anheier looked down at the hand-

@ «cri she was twisting in her lap.

“Yes, he did,” she said suddenly. “He
had threatened us before. but I never
thought anything like this would happen.
When he called the last time, he said he
was coming out to kill Art—and might
kill me, too. He said he didn’t want to

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47


Rade bade Cassia, VUE Likal at UMney got in
the way, it would be just too bad.”

The widow paused to wipe a tear from
her eye. “Art never had a chance when
he walked out of the house Friday morn-
ing,” she continued. “He was just shot
down and I don’t think he even had an
idea anyone was around. If I had walked
out there first instead of him, I'd prob-
ably have gotten it.”

Stackel turned to Sergeant Wood. “I
think we have enough now to make Lewis
change his story,” he said. “Let’s get over
to the barracks.”

When the district attorney arrived with
Mrs. Anheier at DeHollander’s office, the
inspector had been firing questions at
Steve Lewis for six hours without suc-
cess. Smug in the belief there was no
evidence against him, the-salesman con-
tinued to deny any knowledge of the
crime.

Stackel conferred with DeHollander in
another room and told him of Mrs. An-
heier’s statement in detail. Then the dis-
trict attorney and the inspector led the
pretty widow into the office where Lewis
sat smoking a cigaret.

At the sight of her, Lewis went white.
“Irene!” he gasped. “Why are you here?”

“>ne's told us everything,” DeHollander
snapped. “How you forced your atten-
tions on her, refused to stop seeing her
and finally phoned to say you were com-
ing out to kill her husband! Now what
have you to say?”

Lewis swayed in his chair, his eyes
glittering, his forehead bathed in sudden
perspiration.

“Yes, I did it,” he said in a low voice.
“I thought if her husband was out of the
way, she might go back with me.”

While a police stenographer took down
his statement, which he later signed,
Lewis made a full confession,

He had become quite fond of Mrs. An-
heier in Rochester and after she was re-
united with her husband, he continued
to visit her in Oakfield, then in Elba.

Anheier knew of these visits and tried
to prevent him from seeing her, Lewis
went on, and he decided to put an end
to this interference.

On the morning of the crime, Lewis
drove to Elba and parked his car some
distance from the Anheier home. Then
he crept into the back yard, carrying his
loaded gun, and waited in the pre-dawn
darkness for Anheier to walk into the
lover’s ambush.

By the time state police arrived {
response to the urgent summons of Mrg
Anheier, Lewis was in his car well on th
way back to Rochester. re

His statement completed, the salesmag
was taken to the courthouse by Sgt:
John Long of the state police and ara’
raigned before County Judge Philip J;
Weiss on a charge of first degree murder
He entered a formal plea of innocence and ®
was remainded to the county jail to await |
further hearing. . “a

On the afternoon of Monday, Novem.”
ber 27, funeral services were held for)
Arthur Anheier at his home and his casket
was lowered into a grave in Mount Rest:
Cemetery at-nearby Bergen. 4

Soon after attending the services, Mrs
Anheier was taken into custody as a ma
terial witness. State police had told re
porters earlier they were convinced she
had no prior knowledge of the crime. As
this account of the investigation that led 4»
to the arrest of Stephen Lewis is prepared °
for publication, he awaits the processes of “=
justice which will establish his guilt or
innocence. :

(The names Calvin Ford and Henry Flynn are 22%

fictitious to spare embarrassment to persons inno- Be
cently involved in the investigation.—The Editor.) °@

My Most
Puzzling |
Murder

[Continued from page 31]

and two a day. I want you to get this
chap and get him fast.”

When I finally calmed him down I
learned he was Lou Johnson, a rancher
near Meade, Kans., several hundred miles
to the west of Wichita.

“Some weeks ago,” he explained, “I
came here to hire a cowhand and engaged:
a middle aged man named Emery Large
who was recommended by an employment
agency. For a couple of weeks he worked
fine. Then one day when I was going into
town, he asked me to buy him some to-
bacco and razor blades. I did, but when
I got back to the ranch, he was gone. I
didn’t think much about it at first, as
cowhands come and go, and he had been
paid the day before.”

“What did you know about this Emery
Large?” I asked.

“No more than I know about most men
I hire,” Johnson answered. “Well, the
next day I found that this Large didn’t
leave my place empty handed. Some of
my more valuable Indian blankets, and I
have a fine collection of them, were gone.
Also about twenty head of cattle. Then
forged checks began coming into the
bank. I know this chap Large is behind
all this and I want him found. He must
be operating out of Wichita.”

“Have you any proof he is forging the
checks?” I asked.

Johnson's voice boomed. “Who else
would do it? Didn't he disappear at the
same time as my Indian blankets and my
cattle? I want you to find him and when
you do I'll take care of him!”

My phone rang and when I answered it,
I recognized the voice of Bob Drinen,
sheriff in Meade. “Hello, Bob.” I said. “I
got one of your citizens here with me
now. It’s Lou Johnson and he wants me

48

to find a man named Large on a check
forging charge.”

“You don’t have to look any further,”
Drinen answered. “We just found Large’s
body in an abandoned well. He was mur-
dered and has been dead about three
weeks,”

“T'll be damned!” I exclaimed. “Why
Johnson here thinks...”

But before I could finish the sentence,
Drinen broke in, “I want you to come out
here and help me. There’s a lot more to
this Emery Large case than what John-
son can have told you. Large never forged
any checks. He never left the ranch.”

For a good many years I had been ac-
customed to being called by county offi-
cers wanting assistance on difficult cases,
and I had always tried to help them. But
with the Pritchard disappearance getting
hotter every minute, the last place I
wanted to be was in Meade, two hundred
miles from Wichita.

I explained this to Drinen, but he was
persistent. “Just come down for one day,”
he pleaded. “Maybe you can make some
sense out of this puzzle. I can’t.”

In the end I agreed to go for one day.
I hung up and said to Johnson, “They
have found Large for you. His body was
hauled out of an old well and somebody
murdered him!”

J GHNSON'S heavy-jowled cheeks
dropped and a look of amazement
came over his face. “Murdered?” he
grunted. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” I answered, “but I
promised Bob Drinen I would go out
there and give him help for a day. You
had better come back with me.”

Sheriff Bob Drinen was at the Johnson
ranch when we got there late that after-
noon. I had worked with him on a number
of cases and had a wholesome respect for
the ability of this quiet-appearing man,
who seldom got excited.

Ranchers and cowboys from surround-
ing spreads filled the ranch yard. Sheriff
Drinen had rounded up all Johnson’s help
in the bunk house. The body of Large had
been taken to the funeral parlor in Meade
where doctors were performing the au-
topsy.

Taking me aside, Sheriff Drinen said,
“Some of Johnson’s cowhands found

Large’s body when they started to clean |
and rebuild the old well. I can’t say yet. ‘
how long he has been dead, but judging
from the condition of his body, I’d say he —~
was murdered about October 5, the day =
he was supposed to have disappeared -
from the ranch. There is a .30-30 bullet —
in his head.” oe

“Do you have any reason to suspect &
anyone?” s

Drinen shook his head. “Large was
middle-aged and rather unassuming, © |
From all I can gather from those who --
were acquainted with him, he spent most
of his life wandering from one job to
another. He never married and so had no ~
family responsibilities. The boys here all
liked him and are completely baffled why ef
anybody would kill him.”

Johnson joined us. His heavy jowled
face was pale and his voice had lost its ~~
booming quality. “I can’t understand it, a
Bob,” he said to the sheriff. “I guess I
made a fool of myself going to ~
Wichita.” - oS

“Let’s have the story of what happened
the day Large disappeared,” Drinen said. ~*
“He wasn’t mixed up in any cattle steal- _
ing, was he?”
~ “I doubt it very much now,” Johnson
answered. “Though I certainly did jump
to a lot of conclusions when I first missed
those steers. Of course, he was a com-
paratively new man here, but he struck
me as good natured and a hard worker.”

I said, “You reported to me that twenty ~"
of your steers were missing that day. ©
Maybe Large learned something about a 2
cattle rustling ring and that was why he &
was killed.” ss

“That's possible,” Johnson agreed, “but ‘eg
I’m certain none of my men could have ee

{is

been mixed up with cattle rustlers.”
“Who was at the ranch that day with ’¥
Large?” I asked.
“Nobody,” Johnson replied. “It was the |
day after pay day and all the boys went ‘=
into town. Jack Wisdom, my foreman,»
was with me. He took a train for Kansas
City that afternoon as he had decided to
give up his job. Be
“IT got back to the ranch and found 9
Large missing. When he didn't show up
the next morning, I figured he had left
for some other job. But I was puzzled
how he got away from the ranch andi
why he left some clothes behind. Now Be

ibd

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KILLER ;

Continued from.page 23

fired him on the spot. They had words,
but surely that couldn’t add up to murder.
Why, it was six months ago—March, at
least.” : ; ,

The son couldn’t. even remember the
mechanic’s name.

RAKE and Lichtblau left the Sasko-
witz residence and began trudging
through the neighborhood, questioning resi-
dents in the hope that someone had_ seen
the fleeing slayer closely enough to recog-
nize him.

‘No fingerprints’ were found: on thy
watch but, inside the case were the initials
“w, A. D.” and a date—8/12/33—only a
couple of weeks before the attack.

The watch’ itself, however, was a cheap
time piece and it was only a chanceein a
tillion that it could be traced through its

ale.

The fatal bullet. was a .38-calibre slug
and had been fired from an S. & W. re-
volver, but no photo of a matching bullet
was on file at headquarters.

The two detectives from the Seventieth
Squad returned to the Saskowitz home.
The victim’s son knew no one with the
initials found on the watch. By leg work
and phone calls, the detectives finally
found where the watch had been sold, but
it had been a casual over-the-counter sale
to a stranger, and served as no clue at all.

A study of Morris Saskowitz’s mail and
papers was futile.

| home passed. Then months rolled
on. A year, two years, almost, and
the murder of Morris Saskowitz was
merely a story hidden in a file at police
headquarters in Brooklyn,

Then, on June 10th, 1935, Detective
Drake received a phone call at the Seven-
tieth Precinct stationhouse. “This is Harry
Saskowitz,” the man on the telephone said,
“I remember you worked so long on my
father’s—on when he was shot, back in
1933.” :

Bill Drake thought a moment. There
had been so many cases since then, but in
a flash he remembered the unsolved mur-
der of the garage owner over on Ocean
Parkway. “What can I do for you now?”
he asked. ,

“T want to see you,” the son said. “I’ve
got to see you. About the . . . the killing.”

“I'll be right over.”

“No.” There was: a tremor in Harry
Saskowitz’s voice, a quaver of fear. “Don’t
come here. I'll explain why later.”

“Okay,” the officer said. “Where do you
usually lunch?”

The son told him.

“Tl meet you there,” Drake said.

At the table, Harry Saskowitz drew an
envelope from his pocket and slid it
across to the detective. “Read it. Then
you'll know why I didn’t want a police-
man, anybody strange, coming to the
garage.”

The letter, mailed at a Manhattan post
office the night before, was addressed Nin
crude block letters. A glance told Drake
‘the writer was trying to disguise his hand-
writing, and before he read the missive he
guessed its content. y

“This is your first warning,” the letter
began, and the message, like the address
on the envelope, was in awkward block
\printing. c

“If you are smart you will do as you

make the same’ mistake your father did.
We want $10,000° or you will get a .38

slug through the chest just like him.
y , *

:

are told,” the note ‘continued. “Don’t .

a

“We. Want the money in five, ten and
twenty-dollar bills. Put an ad in the per-
sonal column of the Mirror and say Mary
come home and put a date for whatever
day the money will be ready. Don’t call
the cops. Don’t tell anybody about this.
It will be too bad if you do.”

Drake pocketed the extortion demand
and sat frowning thoughtfully. Saskowitz
watched him anxiously, then blurted:
“What shall I do?’*

The detective brushed the plea aside.
“We'll get to that later. Tell me, do you
suppose your father received a note like
this two years ago?’ Think back, now.
Did he seem upset or worried just before
his death?” '

“Not that I noticed. Knowing my dad,
I believe if he’d got a threat like this, he’d
have notified the police at once. I’m sure
he’d have confided in’ me.”

“You can’t tell,” Drake said. “People
do funny things on occasions like these.
There’s two things worthy. of note here,
though. One is, this bird’s an amateur.
No professional extortionist would write
such a long letter. And why did the mug
wait two years, after failing to extort
money from your father, before tackling
you?”

Saskowitz shook his head. “I don’t
know. Well, what am I going to do?”

“Follow the instructions, of course.
Today’s Monday. We'll want a little time.
Put the ad in the paper right away. But
we won't be too willing to fork over; he
- suspect something’s afoot, and scare
fe) Ned

N TUESDAY morning a small adver-
tisement appeared in the personals
section of the tabloid newspaper. It read:

“Mary come home Friday. Half the
job will*be done then, the other half next
week. S.”

Ayvare that they were dealing with a
dangerous character, Drake arranged con-
stant police protection for Harry Sas-
kowitz. A detective went to work that
afternoon as a mechanic in the First Ave-
nue garage; plainclothesmen followed the
son home. at night; cops watched his resi-
dence, and other officers picked him up
and convoyed him to the garage in the
morning.

Meanwhile, Drake sought out Detective
Charles Ryder of the headquarters detail
in Brooklyn. “I think I’ve got something
for you,” he said. “Your old specialty, a

' Bowery bum. It'll probably be Friday, so

get ready.”

The extortion note was turned over to
a special squad that handled such cases,
but a study of the missive served only to
assure the investigators that this’ man’s
modus operandi—including his lettering
and phraseology—had never turned up at
headquarters before.

On Thursday morning Harry Saskowitz
phoned Drake. “I. just got an answer to
the ad,” he said excitedly. He read it
over the phone.

“Put the money in a box and wrap it in
plain paper,” the . instructions advised.
“Someone will come Friday and ask if
you have a bundle for Mary. Give this per-
son the box. Let us warn you again if you
tell the cops we will kill you.”

“Where do you bank?” the officer asked
and. when Saskowitz told him, he con-
tinued. “Go to your bank today and with-
draw some money, but make sure nobody
except the teller sees how much you get.
I want you to do this just in case our man
is watching you. The trip to the bank
should convince him you're acting in good
faith. Don’t worry about the box for
‘Mary’ for we'll fix that up for you, And
we'll be on hand at, the garage by seven
in the morning.”

“ab aaa capt

EXT morr
o'clock, a
lict wove an
Bowery to Fi:
a seeming Ss!
No. 75, the
garage. He \

At seven,
ard Names w
in the greasy
quarter of an
rolled into th
feur at the w
tective Jame
Homicide S
shortly after.
took a box, '
handed it ov:

The tense
passed slow!
changed his
beside a stoc
odically at \
“smoke”—a
water that \
the Bowery
intoxication.

At a quar
walked into
Saskowitz, t
velope. Insi
Saskowitz tc
to this lad.

“If he is *
ened, “it wi
you and yo!

With sha!
gave up the
ing north «

Across th
to his feet
the boy. A
out of the
wheel. Dir
limousine, °
a mechani
ing to chec

At Third
turned righ
where he tt
thick with
sidewalk sh
kid, but pt
he saw hit
Delancey S

Ryder ir
tives in the
going, but

The bo.
tinued a t
Ryder not
a smallish
halted the

Ryder |
darted to t
through ve
of Manhat
drew his ;
fugitive; tt
bullet wou

At Nort
turned rig
fired once.
the man \
and Sweer
explosion,
horns bla:
way.

In Grar
volver on
past his e
of a park:
stopped.

“Stand
up. “Or t

His col
the little /
was unarn
. sedan and

taken to |
His nar

,


ve, ten and
in the per-
d say Mary
or whatever
Don't call
about this.

on demand
Saskowitz
:n blurted:

plea aside.
me, do you
a note like
back, now.
just before

ng my dad,
ke this, he’d
ce. Tm sure

id. “People
s like these.
f note here,
an amateur.
would write
did the mug
g to extort
‘ore tackling

i. “EL don’t
g to do?”
of course.
a little time.
t away. But
ork over; he
yt, and scare

small adver-
ie personals
ser. It read:

Half the
rer half next

uling with a
rranged con-
Harry Sas-
o work that
he First Ave-
followed the
ched his resi-
cked him up
arage in the

out Detective
uarters detail
ot something
d specialty, a
be Friday, so

irned over to
d such cases,
erved only to
it. this’ man’s
his lettering
turned up at

rry Saskowitz
an answer to
He read it

ind wrap it in
ions advised.
y and ask if
Give this per-
u again if you
yu.”
e officer asked
him, he con-
ynday and with-
e sure nobody
nuch you get.
case our man
to the bank
acting in good
the box for
for you. And

wage by seven

|

\
i
i

j
4
]
;
4
}
{
4

NEXS morring at a little. before seven
o'clock, an ill-dressed, unshaven dere-
lict wove an uncertain path from the
Bowery to First Avenue, where he sank in
a seeming stupor on a_ stoop opposite
No. 75, the address of the Saskowitz
garage. He was Detective Ryder.

At seven, Detectives Drake and Rich-
ard Names walked into the garage, garbed
in the greasy overalls of mechanics, and a
quarter of an hour later a shiny limousine

rolled into the place with a liveried chauf--

feur at the wheel. The chauffeur was De-

tective James Sweeney of the Brooklyn’

Homicide Squad. Saskowitz came in
shortly after. From the limousine Drake
took a box, wrapped in brown paper, and
handed it over.

The tense vigil began. The hours
passed slowly. Across the street, Ryder
changed his position to a secluded spot
beside a stoop, where he sat sucking peri-
odically at what looked like a bottle of
“smoke”—a cheap mixture of alcohol and
water that was the standard “hooch” of

the Bowery bums—and feigning a sleepy .

intoxication.

At a quarter past two a boy about 14
walked into the garage. He asked for Mr.
Saskowitz, to whom he handed an en-
velope. Inside was a message. directing
Saskowitz to deliver the “box for Mary”
to this lad.

“If he is followed,” the message threat-
ened, “it will be just too bad. We'll get
you and your whole family.”

With shaking hands, the garage owner
gave up the parcel and the boy left, walk-
ing north on First Avenue.

Across the street Ryder hoisted himself
to his feet and moved off slowly, trailing
the boy. A moment later’a sedan rolled
out of the garage, with Drake at the
wheel. Directly behind it followed the
limousine, with the chauffeur driving and
a mechanic—Detective Names—pretend-
ing to check the sound of the motor.

At Third Street the boy with the box
turned right and crossed to Avenue A,
where he turned right again down a street
thick with pushcarts and crowded with
sidewalk shoppers. Ryder almost lost the
kid, but pushed through the throng until
he saw him again, just turning left into
Delancey Street.

Ryder increased his pace. Tfie detec-
tives in the.cars behind were having heavy
going, but still were following the trail.

The boy crossed Delancey and con-
tinued a block beyond to Broome, with
Ryder not far behind. At Broome Street
a smallish man slipped from a doorway,
halted the kid and took the box.

Ryder broke into a run. The man
darted to the left in Broome Street, racing
through venders and shoppers in the heart
of Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Ryder
drew his gun, but dared not fire at the
fugitive; the odds were too great that his
bullet would kill an innocent person.

At Norfolk, a block away, the quarry
turned right toward Grand: Here Ryder
fired once, with his muzzle in the air, but
the man with the box raced on. Drake
and Sweeney and Names heard the gun’s
explosion, and pressed on faster, their
horns blaring without letup to clear the
way.

volver on the fugitive. The bullet snarled
past his ear and smashed the windshield
of a parked car. The man pulled up and
stopped. ?

“Stand there!” Ryder panted, walking
up. “Or the next one won't miss!”

His colleagues came up and searched
the little fellow with Saskowitz’s box. He
was unarmed. He was pushed into Drake’s

. sedan and, with Ryder covering him, was

taken to the Fifth Street stationhouse.
His name, he said, was Louis Lazar.

pee rl at > pitino ss beach bind

In Grand Street, Ryder leveled his re- |

ae ery fist pStiihic*h palit aed ?

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i

“Well, you_got me!” he said grimly, “It

“‘wouldn’t be my luck to get away with
_five grand.”

“There’s no five grand in the box,
Louis,” Drake told him. “D’you think
we're dopes? But tell me, how’d you come
to pick on Saskowitz for an extortion
ti y od { ‘
ey heard about his old man gettin’
bumped,” the prisoner answered, “I fig-
ured the son would scare easy if I said the
same thing would happen to him. For
awhile it looked like he did scare easy.
But—well, you guys got me. Let’s go
downtown, huh?” ‘

They took him to Brooklyn instead, and
there Drake and the homicide detectives
began to question the 28-year-old extor-
tionist about the murder of Morris Sas-

. kowitz.

“I already told you,” he said, “I just
heard about it. I read the newspapers
when it happened, and I remembered. I
got a good memory.”

“It’s a good thing you have such a won-
derful memory,” Drake -said. “In. your
letter to Harry Saskowitz, you remem-

bered that it was a thirty-eight slug that.

killed his father. Now, you didn’t read
that in any newspaper, Louis, because it

was never in any newspaper. The only
erson outside the police artment who
cnew what kind of bullet killed the old

man was the guy who fired it. You.”

He was jailed on a charge of extortion
and on a second charge of suspicion of
homicide,

Estelle Saskowitz saw Lazar in a lineup
and said he generally resembled the man
she saw running from the basement of
her home after her father was shot, but
she could not identify him positively.

However, detectives now set out to
gather enough evidence to break the sus-

ect, or to convict him without a con-
ession,

They learned from relatives that about
the time of the murder two years before,
Lazar, then a housepainter, had owned a
pair of black-and-white sports shoes of
which he had been very proud. And sud-
denly he had taken them out to be dyed
all black.

They found a friend who had loaned
him a wristwatch only a couple of days
before the killing. The watch had never
been returned. ‘The friend identified the
timepiece found beneath Morris Sasko-
witz’s body as the one he let Lazar bor-
row.

The prisoner was questioned again. ©

Faced with the pal who admitted owner-
ship of the watch, he. threw in the towel.

“Sure, I killed the old man,” he ad-
mitted. “He owed me money, for some
painting I did for him. He wouldn’t pay
up.. Said the job wasn’t worth it. I de-
cided to try to get my monéy by scaring
it out of him with a gun.

“He started a fight. I.shot him. He
went down with a kind of funny look on
his puss, and I beat it. That’s the story.”

As time passed and it seemed certain -

nobody would ever suspect him -of the
Saskowitz slaying, Lazar said, he thought
again about the money he felt was due
him. He decided to try to frighten the
younger Saskowitz into handing over a
large sum, confident that even if he were
caught there were no clues to link him to
the slaying. .

How wrong he was about that was
proved when, in October of 1935, he was
convicted of first-degree murder and sen-
tenced to die in the electric chair. This
conviction was reversed ‘by a higher court
because of a technical error, and he was
retried the following year. The result was
the same. .

And at 11 o’clock on the Thursday

night of January 14, 1937,. Louis Lazar:

was executed. ~
@

_ MIDWAY

Continued from page 21

until bloodstains were noticed and La
Montagne related what he had seen and
heard. At this point an ambulance was
summoned and a terse phone call placed
with the office of Sheriff Jimmy Sullivan
in Miami.

oo S. HIGH, chief criminal dep-

uty and head of the Dade County
criminal investigation department, imme-
diately dispatched his assistant, Deputy E.
E. Sistrunk, to the Hialeah carnival
grounds. High himself hurried to Jackson

«Memorial Hospital, when the stricken
man had been removed. But he got there
too late. For Irving Newman was a
“D.O.A.” case.

“Dead on arrival,” a doctor said sym-
pathetically. “We're checking to make
sure, but I believe he bled to death from
a severed femoral artery.”

“Severed by what?” High demanded.

“Obviously a bullet. The man was shot
in the groin. If you want the pellet, Pll
have it extracted.’

High said: “Tl stick around.”

A few minutes later he was examining
a battered bit of lead from which the
bloodstains had been carefully removed.
“It looks like a twenty-two,” the doctor
remarked.

High nodded. “It is a twenty-two.” He
dropped the death-dealing piece of metal
in an envelope and stuck it in his pocket.
“Tll want a complete autopsy, Doc. This
might be an accident, but I can’t afford to
take chances.”

Leaving the hospital, High drove to the
carnival grounds, It was the closing night
of a week-long celebration staged in honor
of Hialeah’s Silver Anniversary—the
town’s 25th year of incorporation.

EPUTY SISTRUNK. brightened when

he learned the caliber of the death
gun. “There’s a shooting gallery near
here,” he said. “I wonder if a ricochet
could have come through the back of the
tent.”

“Maybe.” - High sounded doubtful.
“Let’s take a look.”

Complete darkness had fallen by now.
But High didn’t need a light to know that
the empty field was flat and level, typical
of Florida terrain. “Nothing out here for
a bullet to glance from,” he decided. “But
take a gander‘ at the back of that tent.
With the lights on, Newman was sil-
houetted against the canvas.”

Sistrunk recalled La Montagne’s state-
ment regarding the killer’s swift departure.
“I figure it now as deliberate,” he said
grimly. “Our man tried a stomach shot
to make sure it would be fatal. Then he
ducked under one of these tents. That’s
how he got away so fast.”

Since no attempt had been made to re-
lieve Newman of his funds, personal ani-
mosity loomed as the only. logical motive
for the crime. Going one deductive step
further, the two officers theorized that a
disgruntled fellow carny-hand was the
most likely person to have borne a grudge
against the concessionaire. tg

“You'll need some more men,” High
decided. “Better call in McLeroy and
Holloway. I want names and background
information on all employees. Every
twenty-two rifle on the premises 1s to be
submitted for a ballistics test, including
guns from the shooting gallery. _ Above
all, find out if any-worker quit his .job and
left town without notice.” ~ ;

Leaving this phase of the investigation
in Sistrunk’s competent hands, High now
turned to the carnival boss—a very wor-

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LAZAR
Jane


LEIGHTON, Augustus D., black, hanged New York, May 19, 1882,

rehash Oe “= qugustus DU De LEIGHTON. na

Hanged at the ‘Tombs, May 19th, for the Lela
Pare be a of His Mistress.

— ;
“ [With Portralt.]< 6)
eh agistus D. Leightén, the young mulatto eho killed.
his mistress, Mary L. Dean, onthe 13th of June, 1880,
was banged at the Tombs, New York,on Friday morn.’
ing, May 19. The crime he explated upon the: gallows.
was caused by | jealousy. . His victim was. 4 bright mu-
flatts girl with whom he wag infatuated and with whom:
his relations for some time ® were very ‘intimate, ‘but
constancy was not one of her std tre and. she. threw
him: off for other lovers-. :
This infuriated Leighton and qarinir a ‘quarrel with
Mary on the stoop of ber residence: in. Twenty-sixth
street the maddened man cut ber throat. with a razor,
severing her head almost from her body. : ve
‘Leighton, was & fine jooking. fellow::. ‘with pleasant:
‘manners, more than: ordinary “syntelligence and : had”
borne a good character..; When senteneed be made a:
speech to the court worthy of a trained lawyer. He
closed with an eloquent peroration. ins which: whe fol:
lowing passages occurred ¢ 29). %
““f-can meet death calmly and: Delain “ ‘but will
not be resigned to it.. Education has done too much for:
me, nature too “little.” * Then “followed 8 dramatic:
acene, Reising bis right hand he cried out: “1 swear |
by this blood-stained band I hev er pntended to. mur: 1
der Mary Dean.”


1 NY CRIM 105
LEIGHTON, Augustas D,, black, hanged New York, NY, May 19, 1882,

SCHOOL OF LAW LIBRARY
UNIV. OF ALABAMA, BOX 6205
UNIVERSITY, AL 35486
(205) 348-5925

"HANGING IN NEW YORK: New York, May 19, - Augustus D. Leighton (colored)
was hanged at 8:)0 this morning for the murder of his mistress, Mary
Hean, When the trap was sprung the noose failed to Slip under the

ear and caught under the chin. Then commenced the sickening struggles
which shewed that Leighton was strangling to death, The heavy breathing
was awful to hear. In seven minutes he was pronounced dead by the
efficial physician, As the body was partially lewered, convulsive
heavings of the chest were plainly discernable. Another physician
declared him dead at eight minutes after the first announcement,"
ARIZON@ GAZETTE, Phoenix, Arizona, May 20, 1882,


THE TRIAL OF JACOB LEISLER FOR HIGH
TREASON. NEW YORK CITY, 1691.

THE NARRATIVE AND TRIAL.

James II of England was very unpopular in the Col-
onies of New York and New England, and a rebellion had

broken out against the Governor, that he had sent there, .

when news came that the invasion of England by the Prince
of Orange had been successful and of the accession of Wil-
liam to the throne. The rebels found a chief in Jacob Leisler,
a New York merchant of standing, and a zealous friend of
the protestant cause, who had formerly suffered imprison-
ment by the order of Andros,? for opposing one of his illegal
acts while governor of New York.

The immediate oceasion of the revolt was a report in May,
1689, that the papists intended to attack and massacre the
people while at church in the Fort, and declare for James II.
The people seized the Fort and appointed a committee of
safety for the immediate government of the province, who
signed an agreement to adhere to the prince of Orange, and,
with their lives, to support the protestant religion, and they

1Bibliography. “Chandler’s American Criminal Trials. (See 1,
Am. St. Tr. 116.) Mr. Chandler says that though the insurrection
of Leisler and his adherents, which distracted the province of New
York, long after the principal ‘actors in the scene had passed from
the stage, form a prominent topic of remark in the histories of the
period, no detailed report of the trial was ever printed, and of the
actual proceedings on that occasion but little ean now be ascertained.

2 ANDROS, Str EpMunpD. (1637-1714.) Born on Island of Guern-
sey; Administrator of Colony of New York, 1674; Governor of
all New England, 1686; imprisoned and impeached in 1689, and
sent to England for trial; Governor of Virginia, 1692-1698;
founded William and Mary College; Governor Island of Guernsey,
1704; died in London.

512

JACOB LEISLER. 513

published a declaration that ‘‘as soon as the bearer of orders
from the prince of Orange shall let us see his power, then
without delay we do intend to obey, not the orders only, but
also the bearer thereof.’’

Massachusetts and Connecticut gave countenance to his
measures, and his authority was soon generally acknowledged
by the middle and lower classes. Nicholson,’? the lieutenant
governor, fled to England, and Courtlandt, the mayor of New
York, Colonel Bayard, and others of his council, ‘‘ gentlemen
of figure,’’ unable to brook the ascendency of a man, ‘‘mean
in his abilities, and inferior in his degree,’’ retired to Albany
and seized the fort there, declaring that they held it for Wil-
liam and Mary, but would maintain no connection with Leis-
ler. Each party now professed allegiance to the same sovy-
ereign, and denounced the other as rebels. Leisler sent Mil-
borne, his son-in-law, to Albany to demand the surrender
of the fort, which was refused. Afterwards letters were re-
ceived from England, addressed to Nicholson, or, in his ab-
sence, to “‘such as, for the time being, take care for preserv-
ing the peace and administering the law’’ in New York.
After some hesitation on the part of the messenger, occa-
sioned by the attempts of the party at Albany to obtain pos-
session of the despatches, they were delivered to Leisler.
They contained a commission to Nicholson, ‘‘to do every
thing appertaining to the office of lieutenant governor, ac-
cording to the laws and customs of New York until further
orders.’? Nicholson having left the province, Leisler consid-

S NicHoLson, Francis. (1660-1728.) Born in England; in
early manhood was a British soldier; came to America, 1684, as
lieutenant in British army; appointed lieutenant, or deputy Gover-
nor of New York under Sir Edmund Andros, 1688; after Andros’
arrest, sole head of government, 1689-1690; driven out by Jacob
Leisler and his rebels; Governor of Virginia, 1691-1692 ; Lieuten-
ant Governor of Maryland, 1694; Governor of Virginia again,
1699-1705 ; served in the army, 1705-1710; was Governor of Nova
Scotia, 1712-1717; of South Carolina, 1721-1725; left America for
the last time in 1725; died in London; as a colonial governor he
established schools, improved condition of the clergy and urged a

vigorous policy against Canada. (See Dictionary of National
Biography; New International Eneyelopedia. )

*169T“92"S SAN *Hc0X MeN peZuey fseqtyM ‘qooer “aNINOMTIWN PUe Sqooer ‘yISTHT


514 X. AMERICAN STATE TRIALS.

ered the commission as directed to himself, and esteemed his
authority to have received the royal sanction. By advice of
the committee of safety, he now assumed the title of lieuten-
ant governor. To add strength to his party, a convention
was summoned of deputies from all the towns to which his in-
fluence extended, and various regulations were adopted for
the temporary government of the province.

Nicholas Bayard, a member of the Albany convention, be-
ing found in New York, was arrested and imprisoned for
high misdemeanors, and for certain libellous writings, con-
taining ‘‘execrable lies and pernicious falsehoods.’’ The con-
vention at Albany was dissolved, the members took refuge in
the neighboring colonies, and there was soon no open and
organized opposition to Leisler’s authority. King William
had received Leisler’s messenger in a flattering manner; but
Nicholson, who had arrived in England, contrived to poison
the royal ear against the man who first raised the standard
of the revolution in New York, and Leisler vainly waited for
any express confirmation of his power, or thanks for his ef-
forts in the cause of his sovereign.

Sloughter* was appointed governor in 1689; arriving in
New York in March, 1691, he sent Ingolsby to demand the
surrender of the fort. Leisler’s fears for his safety, or his
love of power, overcame his prudence, and he refused to
obey, thus giving his enemies a pretense for his destruction,
which otherwise they would have vainly sought in all his
acts. A second demand was made, but Leisler knew that his
enemies had obtained the ear of the governor, and, in the
effort of folly and despair to secure his own safety, he still
hesitated, but sent messengers to the governor, who were im-
mediately seized as rebels. Leisler now abandoned the fort,

*SLoucHTerR, Henry. Appointed Governor of New York by
William of Orange, to succeed Jacob Leisler; commission was dated
September, 1689, but because of delay in England and mishaps to
his vessel at Bermuda, Sloughter did not reach New York until
1691; had Jacob Leisler and Jacob Milborne hanged, May, 1691;

Sloughter died suddenly, in New York, July 23, 1691 .
erts, New York, Vol. I.) bite hewn. . (See Rob

JACOB LEISLER. 516

and was seized and thrown into prison, together with his son-
in-law and several of his adherents.

The prisoners were immediately brought to trial before a
special court of oyer and terminer. Six of the inferior in-
surgents were convicted of high treason, and were subse-
quently reprieved. Leisler and Milborne denied to the gov-
ernor the power to institute a tribunal for judging his
predecessor, and vainly appealed to the king. The trials pro-
ceeded before a tribunal, erected for the purpose of giving
the sanctions of the law to the determinations of power.
Joseph Dudley,® the chief justice, had been expelled from
3oston by the same general revolution to which Leisler owed
his elevation. How could the latter expect a favorable appre-
ciation of his conduct from a tribunal, erected by his enemies,
and occupied by an exasperated antagonist? Refusing to
plead to the charge against him, he was convicted by the
jury, and was condemned to death, with Milborne, as a rebel
and a traitor.

The governor hesitated to destroy the men, who first raised
the standard of William of Orange and protestantism. ‘‘Cer-
tainly never greater villains lived,’’ he wrote; but he ‘‘re-
solved to wait for the royal pleasure, if by any other means
than hanging he could keep the country quiet.’’ But the
enemies of Leisler were bent on his death. They invited

‘Sloughter to a feast, and, when his reason was drowned in

his cups, he was prevailed on to sign the death warrant; be-
fore he recovered his senses, the prisoners were executed.

5 DupLEY JosePH. (1650-1720.) Born in Massachusetts; judge
at the time of the revolution in 1689, when he was imprisoned, and
was sent to England with Andros; appointed Chief Justice of New
York, 1690; subsequently Lieutenant Governor of the Isle of
Wight, and a member of Parliament; returned to Boston in 1702,
as Governor of Massachusetts; no citizen of New England enjoyed
so many public honors and offices; he was a learned man, and, in
private life was amiable, dignified, and elegant in his manners; his
conduet at the trial of Leisler is a blot on his character, and was
the ground of severe charges against him in England; died in Rox-
bury, Mass.

516 X. AMERICAN STATE TRIALS.

THE EXECUTION.

On May 16th, 1691, Leisler, with his son-in-law, Milborne,
was led to the gallows. Parting with his wife Alice, and his
numerous family, he met his death with fortitude, and as be-
came a christian. After praise to God, he expressed his sense
of his dying state and submitted himself before a just God
with humility and hope. He avowed that, at the request of
a committee, chosen by the major part of the inhabitants of
the province, he had taken upon him, ‘‘to the great grief of
relations to be left behind,’’ weighty matters of state, ‘‘re-
quiring a more wise, cunning, and powerful pilot to gov-
ern;’’ an undertaking for which his motives were the protest-
ant interest, and the establishment of the government of
William and Mary. It was true, he said, that in this en-
deavor for the public good, several enormities had been com-
mitted against his will. He had longed to see a governor
sent, to put a period to the disorders existing; some of which.
on his part, were committed through ignorance, some through
jealous fear, some through misinformation and misconstruc-
tion, and some through rashness or passion. For all his of-
fenses, he asked pardon of God, and of all persons offended.
His enemies he forgave, and: prayed that all malice might be
buried in the grave.

He enjoined upon his friends to forget any injury done to
him. He prayed for the good of the province, and, as his
last words, declared, that, as to the matter for which he was
condemned, his purpose was for the good of his fellow crea-
tures, according to the understanding and ability which he
possessed, by preventing popery and upholding the govern-
ment of William and Mary. He concluded a prayer for all
in authority, by one for comfort to his own afflicted family;
and he asked for them the charity of all, and their prayers
for himself.

Being asked by the sheriff ‘‘if he was ready?’’ he said
‘“veg’? and requested that his body might be delivered to his
wife; and, as his family had been educated as christians, he

JACOB LEISLER. 517

hoped they would act as such. Turning to Milborne, he ex-
claimed, ‘‘ why must you die? you have been but as a servant,
doing my will; and, as I am a dying man, I declare before
God and the world, that what I have done was for King Wil-
liam and Queen Mary, the defense of the protestant religion,
and the good of the country.’? Having again professed his
reliance on God, he signified his readiness to depart, and his
sufferings were soon ended.

The populace, overawed by the soldiers, were dreadfully
agitated by this painful spectacle. The shrieks of fainting
women were terrible to hear; and the torrents of rain added
to the gloom and horror of the scene. When the prisoner was
dead, his garments were cut in pieces by the crowd, and his
hair was divided as the precious relics of a martyr. At the
same hour, and in the same town, the members of the council
and the judges were revelling in beastly triumph, and with
them the governor, insensible at his cups, was delayed until
the execution was over!

After his death his son appealed to the king; the attainder
was reversed and his estate restored to his family.


ty

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66

MANNA-HATIN’” Ei

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THE STORY t E

of : 1-7) e 20

: NEW YORK |

eTé9T-92-S **K °N Sao MON poSuey San

Published by

THE MANHATTAN COMPANY
i NEW YORK

Distributed by

| | BANK OF MANHATTAN TRUST COMPANY
\ Sm ae Sp i INTERNATIONAL ACCEPTANCE BANK, INC.
Ss aS Sn f INTERNATIONAL MANHATTAN COMPANY
ly ehh INCORPORATED
i Commerce, looking ever to the future, turns the pages
J of New York’s history.


CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Xeisler ‘Kebellion

UDDENLY, all the growth and Prosperity

of the colony was threatened. On Febry-

ary 6, 1686, King Charles, sitting in the
midst of his frivolous court, turned pale, sickened
and died, leaving the Duke of York and Albany
to carry on as James II, The way the new king
chose to “carry on” had much to do with the
unhappy conditions which followed in New
York. He tore up the undelivered Charter of
Liberties and Privileges, declared all other
charters null and void, recalled Dongan and ap-
pointed Sir Edmund Andros to rule as royal
g0vernor over New York, New Jersey and New
England, with Francis Nicholson as his lieu-
tenant on Manhattan. Proud and aristocratic
New York now found itself only a part of the
general colonial system. With its seal broken
and its assembly dissolved, with Huguenot tales
of over-seas persecution filling the atmosphere

with dread, New York felt itself on the eve of
some dire calamity.

And calamity came. It took the form of
“Leisler’s Rebellion” —the result of rumor, con-
fusion and fear. The imprudent James II had
lasted on the throne of England only three years,
when in 1688 he was overthrown and William

[ 62 ]

ee

ome

The Letsler Rebellion

and Mary of Orange were made ao bois
f 1
brought vague news o
stead. Travelers bro ae paedl
t it was not con
American colonies, bu G
eg nearly a year, and in the meanwhile, wre
were so many rumors of plots and a a ots
that the populace became almost frenzie : :
Governor-General Andros was depose te
thrown into prison in Boston, the Pata se
i This arouse e
ombined colonies.
spirits in New York to restlessness. os Oumaat
only a leader, and presently he appeared. ne
Jacob Leisler, a merchant of the ee
senior captain of the militia under ne pe
ort. He refused to pay
ard, the collector of the p | y
duties on a cargo of wine, on the ne
“napist.” This act at on
collector was a “‘papist.
1 i turbulent element. Bay
him popular with the pai
rith the Schuylers, Van Cor nd
ard, together with t co
iV1 — all members of fa
and Livingstons — a
which had received royal grants—was pees
suspected of taking part se ape to sa ere
ish throne. E: -
detested James to the Engli a
isler led a mutiny o
ment blazed when Leis ptm
iliti t. Lieutenant-Gov
militia and seized the for
nor Nicholson was arrested and foolishly pe
mitted to sail for England, wn his own s
al ears.
of the story prepared for roy
It was now easy for Leisler to take en a
the city, and he called an assembly that aut 8
~ ized him to act as dictator until a new gover

[ 63 ]

an
?
¥

‘

+ pea ‘ap eRy By

i i nat Sl MR il

eth “
Na bss
‘| yy

ae By
ie

tee,

a

tig awe ag hle

us
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whee

PAN as fanaeesiie’
raped A

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+.

tecting New York
Rumors that the Count de Frontenac Was ad-
vancing from Canada to Slaughter all the
Huguenots and subjugate the town, helped stil]
further to establish the temporary leadership of
these religious zealots. When the French and
Indians actually reached Schenectady, leavin
that unhappy village in ruins, Leisler called the
first Provincial Congress from seven colonies to
meet in New York and devise means for a com-
mon defense. The Plans were hopelessly bun-
gled; an expedition which Was sent against the
French failed because of mismanagement,

The aristocratic families of New York bit-
terly resented the rule of this son of the people.
As for Leisler, an unfortunate lack of balance,
and a vanity born of his new power, led him into
all sorts of indiscretions. He embarked on a
ruthless policy of throwing all who opposed him
into prison, pursued Van Cortlandt, Livingston
and Bayard with especial hatred, so that by the
time news of all this had reached William and
Mary, he had gone so far that death at the hands
of his enemies would have followed had he re-
laxed the vigor of his persecution.

The new sovereign had sent instructions ad-
dressed to Nicholson, or “such other person as

[ 64 ]

it

' on, with

T he Letsler Rebellion

j 7 hoed through the
ecution of Jacob Leisler ec
a history of New York for years.

ee
for the time being may be in authority, _and
r ted this to mean him-
Leisler naturally interpre
elt In 1691 Colonel Henry viene a
pointed governor of the province. fn ee
tenant, Ingoldsby, unfortunately arrive ay
York ahead of the new governor, ae the te
ievi but with no o
tion of relieving Leisler, bu bg
is right. Leisler, therefore,
apers to prove his righ r, there
fosed to surrender the fort. Skirmishing pie
some bloodshed, until Sloug ia
; : 5
landed, at which time Leisler, pion ye
have awaited only the proof of the new g
nor’s authority, surrendered.

[65 ]


IEISLER & MILBOURNE, hanged New York, Ne Yes 5=26-1691-

THE BATTER

The story of the adventurers, artists, statesmen, BR?

grafters, songsters, mariners, pirates, guzzlers,
; ; Qn
Indians, thieves, stuffed-shirts, turn-coats, BS
millionaires, inventors, poets, heroes, O65
iA
—/

soldiers, harlots, bootlicks, nobles,
nonentities, burghers, martyrs,
and murderers who played
their parts during full
four centuries on
Manhattan
| Island’s

tip

4
= settle

BY RODMAN GILDER

YING AT ANCHOR

eal
6. of numerous

‘According to Russell
\. R. fec.,’ is in collec.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY - BOSTON

Che Riversive Press Cambridge

MCMXXXVI


“<«Manna-hatin,? The Story of New York

His apologies and explanations came too late,
however, to suit the temper of those he had pei-
secuted, and after a trial, conviction and sentence
that were pitifully swift as well as unjust, he
and Milbourne were led out and hanged near
the present site of the World Building,

The sobs and groans of the crowd that col-

lected to watch this execution echoed through
the history of New York for years in the bitter-
ness of two parties thus formed—the Leislerians
and the Anti-Leislerians. Even the sudden death
of Governor Sloughter, which followed shortly
after the hangings, was believed by many to have
been due to a poison plot. This over-zealous cap-
tain of militia, who had been martyred for what
he believed to be only patriotic service to his
adopted country and to the new king, was vin-
dicated later by Parliament, which restored his
Property and his good name to his heirs. Al.-
though this was done “as an act of their Ma-
jesties’ mercy,” it was in view of the fact that
Leisler had not been guilty of treason.

The accession of William and Mary gave en-
franchisement to the citizens of New York, al-
though certain Property qualifications kept the
very poor from voting. Having gained so much,
the keen merchants of New York entered
straightway upon a long campaign for political
supremacy, so that meetings of the assembly be-
came a battle-ground for the control of funds.

[ 66 ]

et.

AM BY

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Pieces of Eight
S MUCH feeling had been aroused by the

Leisler hanging that New York was —
or less turbulent for years. It was a restless
little city, full of the spirit of pee
times of violence. Many races jostled eac a
in the streets, and, as these same races he g 4
ing in Europe, it was natural that they shou :
quarrel here. Everything was new, the es
uncertain, and the frequent changes of flag a
nsettling.
“ae Hicctise who had sib ae
Sloughter, was an Episcopalian, and eth
encouragement Trinity Church was esta a
where it now stands, on a corner of the old Wes
India Company’s bouwerie. During the con-
struction, many prominent citizens made dona-
tions of their money or service. Among atin
one Captain William Kidd, a highly esteeme
merchant whose packet plied between New
York and London, and whose comfortable
home in Hanover Square boasted the first Turk-
ish rug ever imported, lent his “runner and
tackle” for the worthy cause.
Neither the political struggles between Gov-
~ernor Fletcher and the assembly over appropri-
ations, nor the repeal by Parliament of the

[ 67 ]

26 _ The Battery

12 barrels of musket balls, several hundred cannon balls, 173
grenade shells, and 56 barrels of powder. Ps

WITH Lieutenant Governor Nicholson installed, there began
a two-year period of tumult, poisoned by religious hatred, that
reached its climax in judieial murder. The struggle centred
around Fort James, with its waterside battery, whose posses-
sion meant control of the city and colony.

In December, 1688, James II, the proprietor of New York,
abdicated. It was not until the following February that his son-
in-law, William of Orange, Stadholder of the Netherlands, and
his daughter Mary were crowned joint sovereigns of Great
Britain. But in Ireland the struggle went on for more than two
years between the armies of Catholic James and Protestant
William. How could the politicians of New York, meagrely
supplied with tardy news, tell which way the cat would jump?

Nicholson and his Protestant, land-holding adherents, who
had done very well under a Catholic Sovereign, were opposed
by the popular ‘anti-papist’ party, infected with fear and rage,
led by the prosperous merchant, captain of one of the six militia
companies, Jacob Leisler. This fanatical hater of Catholics —
born forty-nine years before, the son of a persecuted German
clergyman — was swept into power. He and his men seized the
fort and awaited the orders of their Majesties William and
Mary. The stage was set for a struggle between the people of
New York and their immediate rulers.

After an interval, during which the fortress was called ‘the
Fort in New York,’ Leisler named it Fort William. Under his
energetic leadership the work of fortifying the city was actively
pushed. Even the children were called upon, and gathered
quantities of small stones to be used in the fortifications. The
fort walls and the buildings inside were repaired; and the well
in the fort — which Nicolls had been so proud of, and which
had been filled up by Dongan — was restored.

In a letter to the King and Queen, Leisler reported: ‘I am
now mending the breast works and palisading the fort round...
And for the better defence I have caused one battery to be made
at the river side at the west of the fort, where I have planted
seven great guns.’ This semi-circular redoubt, a hundred feet
over all, was built on a flat rock, where Greenwich and Stone
Streets would intersect today if they extended into Battery

Park.
similat
afterw
dwelli:
The
New }
ant G:
time b
the lav
arrivec
The
the de
were |
attack
hand,
fort.
Wo:
comm
comm
Two n
in con
the in
prope
tents.
Leis
let his
were |
force 1

In all
prope:
Tw
began
invest
killed
fort w

LE!
Milb«
largel:
be ‘ha
their |

+
4

there began
iatred, that
gle centred
10S posses-

New York,
hat his son-
‘lands, and
s of Great
-e than two
Protestant
, meagrely
suld jump?
‘rents, who
re opposed
r and rage,
> six militia
atholics —
2d German
' seized the
illiam and
> people of

‘the
| 'r his
as actively
| gathered
tions. The
d the well
and which

ced: ‘I am
tround...
to be made
ve planted
ndred feet
and Stone
‘o Battery

Keward for Loyalty a7

Park. For many years this was called Leisler’s Half Moon.- A
similar fortification, Whitehall Battery, with fifteen guns, was
afterwards built at the waterside south of Stuyvesant’s former
dwelling.

The long-awaited instructions from King William reached
New York in December, 16809, cautiously addressed to Lieuten-
ant Governor Nicholson, or ‘in his absence to such as for the
time being take care for preserving the peace and administering
the laws.’ Nicholson had departed, and, full of tales to tell, had
arrived in England. ;

The antagonists of Leisler — taking heart at the news that
the dethroned King of England and the troops of Louis XIV
were holding their own in Ireland — encouraged a mob to
attack Leisler in the streets of New York. Leisler, sword in
hand, and aided by the people, slashed his way back to the
fort.

Word came at last that Colonel Henry Sloughter had been
commissioned to govern New York. He sailed from England in
command of several vessels, which soon became separated.
Two months later one of his subordinates, Richard Ingoldsby,
in command of a hundred soldiers, arrived and, coming under
the influence of Leisler’s adversaries, straightway, without
proper authority, demanded possession of the fort and its con-
tents.

Leisler refusing, Ingoldsby enlisted militia: companies and
let his men bedevil the garrison under Leisler’s command. Guns
were planted in positions commanding the fort. The besieging
force increased until it outnumbered the garrison two to one.
In all the turmoil, Leisler had injured no one, had destroyed no
property, had shed no blood.

Two days before Sloughter made his tardy appearance, firing
began between the fort and the troops, supplied with cannon,
investing it. This was on March 17, 1691. Leisler’s cannon
killed four and wounded several men. On the nineteenth, the
fort was surrendered.

LEISLER and his son-in-law and chief lieutenant, Jacob
Milborne, convicted of high treason and murder by a court
largely composed of their bitterest enemies, were sentenced to
be ‘hanged by the neck, and, being alive,’ cut down and drawn,
their heads to ‘be severed from their bodies and their bodies cut

einige CRONE Pe ORS

|
|
|
j
|
|

96 New York City, 1664-1710

tablished by their fathers. They could not compete with the En-
glish and French, who often enjoyed striking advantages in
commerce, and without access to wealth they could not build
their homes in the most desirable areas of the city. But the
Dutch did have numerical strength and memories, and these
were important when the consequences of the English conquest
began to affect the city’s politics.

wen eee

5 S Lislers Rebellion

New Amsterdam’s burghers reacted with remarkable equa-
nimity when the English fleet which had been dispatched to sub-
due them sailed into their harbor in 1664. To the chagrin of
Peter Stuyvesant, the Dutch West India Company governor, the
city’s leaders decided to surrender the town without firing a
shot. They were aware of the unready state of the municipal
defenses, but more important, they found strong attraction in the
peace terms otfered by Colonel Richard Nicolls, the commander
of the expedition.'

England had no reason to destroy New Amsterdam's prosper-
ity, but only wished to transfer some of its profits to English
coffers. Accordingly, Nicolls’s terms were generous and were
designed to conciliate the Dutch residents and to win their al-
legiance. The Articles of Capitulation guaranteed to the
burghers the uninterrupted possession of their houses, lands.
goods, and ships, and allowed them to follow the customs of the
Netherlands in the inheritance of estates. The Anglican con-
querors prudently chose not to force conformity to the Church
of England, but rather assured the Dutch of their right to wor-
ship at the Calvinist Reformed Church. Economically, the

1 “Answer of Ex-Director Stuyvesant . . . 1666," “‘Extract of a Letter
from the Director-General . . . to the Directors of the West India Company,

~ Chamber at Amsterdam, dated the 4th of August, 1664;"’ “Director Stuyve-
“sant to the Dutch Towns on Long Island,’’ Aug. 28, 1664, **Answer [of the

Dutch Towns!,’’ n.d.. DRNY, I, 431, 433, 444-45, 505, 376.


98 New York City, 1664-/710

Dutch retained many old privileges. and in addition gained the
right of trading with England and her colonies. Finally. the En-
glish offered the inhabitants political liberties. including the
selection of deputies, and promised them that they would not
have to bear arms against any foreign nation.”

Prospects of peace and prosperity enticed the burghers. who
tor forty years had conducted their affairs under the erratic leader-
ship of the Dutch West India Company. The conquest bloodless-
ly terminated the colonists’ long-term border disputes with
neighboring English provinces and promised to permanently
remove the fear of war for the isolated Dutchmen. It also se-
cured them a degree of protection against hostile Indians which
the Company had never afforded its settlers.* Indeed. the peace
seemed to offer the Dutch the opportunity to develop the com-
munity for their own benefit rather than for that of the stock-
holders.

English jurisdiction at first lay lightly on the shoulders of the
Dutch, but before long it began to transform the life of the city.
Colonel Nicolls, who became the first English governor,
changed the names of both New Amsterdam and New Nether-
land to New York, and on June 12, 1665, he organized all the
settlements on Manhattan Island into a city with a corporate
frame of government. Nicolls replaced the Dutch system of
schout, burgomasters, and schepens with the English one of
sheriff. mayor. and aldermen, and retained the authority to ap-
point these officials annually.+

Recapture of New York in 1673 by Dutch forces gave the

Leisler's Rebellion 49

city’s Dutch community an opportunity to express their opinion
of English rule. The leaders of the port. which was renamed
New Orange. proclaimed “‘the great joy of the good inhabi-
tants’’ and promised their undying affection to the States Gen-
eral and the Prince of Orange for liberation from the English.
They quickly called attention to the benefits which the city
could offer the Netherlands as a refuge for those displaced by
war, a granary for the homeland and its colonies, and as a
source of beaver, tobacco, and military intelligence. These pro-
testations doubtless were in part pro forma communications of
submission expected by the home government, but they were
more than simply examples of imperial etiquette. The towns-
men, no longer wards of the West India Company or ot a
foreign monarchy, had become direct subjects of the Nether-
lands. The joy which they expressed at being united with ‘their
lawfull and native Sovereigns’? and with the “‘Fatherland’’
seemed genuine, and perhaps reflected their uneasiness with the
changes wrought under England’s jurisdiction.”

Dutch forms and practices soon reappeared in the city. On
August 17, 1673, the commanders and council of war. after
meeting with six deputies elected by the citizenry. reintroduced
the old form of municipal government. They appointed a
schout, and chose three burgomasters and five schepens trom a
list of nominees drawn up by vote of the commoners. Men with
Dutch names filled every position: Anthony De Milt became
schout, Johannes Van Brugh, Johannes De Peyster, and Egidius
Luyck, burgomasters; and William Beeckman, Jeronimus Eb-
bingh, Jacob Kip, Laurens Vanderspeigle, and Guleyn Ver-

Ht * ** Articles of Capitulation on the Reduction of New Netherland.” Aug. 27,
ili 1664, ibid., pp. 251-52.

{| * **Remonstrance of the Burgomasters and Schepens of New Amsterdam.
Hi and the Delegates from the Adjoining Towns, to the Honble the Directors of
aa | the West India Company, Chamber at Amsterdam. dated 2d November
i 1663," ibid., pp. 477-79.
|

|

|

.

planck, schepens.®

5 ‘Nathan Gould’s Account of the Capture of New York,’’ Aug. 1673;
‘The Corporation of New Orange to the States-General.’’ Sept. 8, 1673,
DRNY, Ul, 201; 0, 526-27.

8 **Minutes of Council of New Netherland, 1673, 1674,’° Aug. 16, and 17,
1673, ibid., 1, 574-75. It is unclear just who was allowed to vote in this elec-
tion; voters were only identified as members of the commonality.

i) ‘Colonel Nicolls to the Duke of York.’ n.d., ibid.. III, 105: “Nicolls
i Charter. 1665,"’ June 12. 1665, DHNY, I, 602-4


28 The Battery

into four parts which shall be disposed of as their Majesties’
shall assign.’

In spite of the efforts of a Huguenot dominie, Pierre Daillé,
formerly opposed to Leisler, and in spite of a petition signed by
eighteen hundred citizens, Sloughter put his name to the death-
warrant of Leisler and Milborne. It was said that Sloughter
was drunk at the time, and, being a poor man, was swayed bya
bribe. According to a Dutch account, one of their enemies,
Dominie Henricus Selyns, came to the two men — in the fort
which in good faith they had held two years for their King and
Queen — ‘whilst they were sitting to take supper together,’ and
said, ‘“‘You both shall die on Saturday next, being the 16th of
May, and you have to prepare yourselves thereto.”

On the day appointed, the atrocious sentence was carried out
in a driving northeaster. At the end, Leisler forgave his enemies
and said, ‘What I have done was for King William and Queen
Mary and for the defence of the Protestant religion and the
good of the country.’ He accused his chief opponents of being
papists and friends of the enemy, France. They called him ty-
rant and usurper. Both charges were false.

A later governor, Lord Bellomont, characterized the execu-
tion of Milborne and Leisler as murder. And the British Parlia-
ment reversed the decision of the New York court and restored
the victims’ property to their familiesx— four years too late.

Sloughter died suddenly after four months in office.

LEISLER, in good faith defending their Majesties’ fort, met
a cruel death. He had been dead less than eighteen months
when another governor, commissioned by the same King and
Queen, was installed in the fort, and straightway became the
leading broker of fraudulent grants of land, the chief violator
of the Crown trading edicts, and the friend and beneficiary of
pirates.

New York was the principal headquarters at this period for
the fitting-out of privateers and of pirate vessels and for the
sale of prizes and loot. France and Spain were at war. Great
Britain had joined the Spanish, and had commissioned many
privateers to prey on French trade. But it was as easy for a
privateer to turn pirate as it is now for a private detective to
become a crook.

Governor Benjamin Fletcher, florid and energetic soldier of

fortune,
found it
holders ;
the pira
Iletcher
Governo
the Cou:
declared
him eigh
Fletch
swarthy,
seventy-t
of sixty
vateersm
riding th
horse coz
and his fz
in the fo
brought :
worth te:
‘This *
activity,
and rem«¢
met. He
some tim
divertise:
One of
himself a
sion of b
working )
equal par
other wer
the loot.
‘I wish
man, and
swearing.
in whose
of those

TO HI

Fletcher

ew Tork (ity, 1664-1710

CT” CONQUEST AND CHANGE

Thomas J eArchdeacon

Cornell Universit y Press

ITHACA AND LONDON

7716

I Ee ee at ie


100 New York City, 1664-1710

Whatever were the wishes of its inhabitants, Manhattan was
not destined to remain a Dutch possession. By the Treaty of
Westminster signed on February 9, 1674, Holland returned the
city and colony to England. On November 10. English forces
took over the surrendered port. and James Stuart was once again
in possession of his proprietary, which was for a second time
named New York.’

The Duke ot York dispatched Edmund Andros to be gov-
ernor-general of his province. James instructed Andros to en-
courage men of all nations to settle in New York, but the propri-
etor was especially anxious that Englishmen be added to the
population. Unsure of the allegiance of his subjects, the Duke
advised his surrogate to act impartially toward all the inhabi-
tants, but to watch carefully the Dutch who cooperated with the
leaders of the capture of the port in 1673. As has been noted,
the regime also took action to reduce Dutch influence and to
bring the province fully into England’s economic orbit by for-
bidding vessels from the Netherlands to bring goods to New
York.”

Andros set out immediately to re-establish English authority.
He required the Dutch to take an oath of allegiance to the
Crown, which, the burgomasters complained, was more harsh
than the one imposed on Englishmen during the 1673-1674
Dutch occupation. The Dutch also argued that the new pledge,
unlike the one administered by Nicolls in 1664, did not clearly
absolve them from the obligation to bear arms against the Neth-
erlands in time of war.”

i “The States-General to Charles II,’’ Dec. 19, 1673; ‘Report of the Coun-
cil of Trade . . . respecting the Recapture of New York,’’ Nov. 15. 1673,
ibid, I, 531; 1, 211212.

: “Commission ot Major Edmund Andros to be Governor of New York.”’
July 1, 1674; ‘Instructions for Governor Andros,”’ July 1, 1674, ibid., Ul
215, 20% : a

* **Petition of the Dutch Burghers of New York,’’ Mar. 16, 1675, ibid., U
740-43. oe

101

Leisler's Rebellion

Governor Andros put into effect in the province the Duke’s
Laws. a combination of New England codes and common law
procedures, and ordered the courts to conduct their business in
the English language. In New York City. Andros re-introduced
the offices of sheriff. mayor. and alderman. The names of -En-
glishmen naturally began to appear frequently among the office-
holders appointed by the governor to direct the affairs of the
port. In October 1675 Governor Andros appointed William Der-
vall mayor of the city, Thomas Gibbs and Thomas Lewis alder-
men, and John Sharpe secretary.'°

Despite the willingness of leading Dutch citizens to cooperate
with the authorities, the transition to English forms of govern-
ment created certain problems. The municipal officers sitting
on the Court of Mayor and Aldermen, or Court of Sessions,
had special difficulties. English control was stricter, and the
judges, unlike their predecessors in the years from 1664 until
1673, kept their records in the language of the victors. But
Dutch influence remained and the court continued to follow
many procedures from Roman Dutch law. It also attempted to
retain, in a manner reminiscent of the Court of Burgomasters,
Schepens. and Schout, jurisdiction over criminal and equity
matters as well as civil cases. "!

The greatest problem was the introduction of the English jury
system, which caused a crisis in the municipal courts. The
judges employed the device in some cases where it was inappro-
priate and declined to use it in others where it was mandatory.
As a result, in 1681 a grand jury composed exclusively of En-
glishmen indicted several local officials for treason on the

1© “Order to Put Duke’s Laws into Force in New York,”’ Aug. 6, 1674,
ibid.. Wl, 226-27: Min. Com. Coun, Oct. 17, 1675212 |

‘1 Herbert A. Johnson, ‘The Advent of Common Law in Colonial New
York,’’ in George A. Billias, ed.. Selected Essays: Law and Authority tn Co-
lonial America (Barre, Mass.. 1965), pp. 80-82; Richard B. Morris. ed..,
Select Cases of the Mayor's Court of New York City, 1674-1874 (Washington,
D.C., 1935), pp. 46-47.


102 New York City, 1664-1710

grounds that two years earlier they had refused to allow the
Englishman John Tuder a trial by jury. These officials included
the mayor, Francois Rombouts, a Huguenot who had emigrated
trom the Netherlands and had been a successful merchant since
the days of New Amsterdam, and the Dutch aldermen William
Beeckman, Johannes Van Brugh, Guleyn Verplanck and Peter
Jacobs. The General Court of Assizes acquitted the accused, but
the city officials were much chastened by the experience. !”
Common citizens were no more immune than their social su-
periors from the complications which arose from the meeting of
English and Dutch in New York. Even the men of the con-
stable’s watch fell prey to hostile ethnic thoughts, with detri-
mental effects to the peace which they were supposed to pre-
serve. Indeed, in 1676 and again in 1682 the authorities thought
it necessary to threaten with punishment those who ‘‘shall pre-
sume to make any quarrel upon the watch upon the account of
being of different nations . . . .”’ 13
The advent of Thomas Dongan as governor gave hope for a

relaxation of these tensions. Soon after the new governor ar-

rived in New York in August 1683 the mayor and aldermen of
the city asked that he confirm the liberties previously exercised

by the municipality. They requested, moreover, a number of ad-

ditional privileges such as popular selection of local officials.

Dongan studied the proposals and conditionally granted most of
them while he and the town fathers awaited final approval from

the proprietor. who became king of England in 1685 upon the

death of his brother Charles II. The new monarch, in accord

with his earlier predilection to extend to New York City **im-
munities and priviledges beyond wt other parts of my territoryes

'? “Proceedings of the General Court of Assizes Held in the City of New
York, October 6. 1680 to October 6, !682,"° Court Records, 1680—1682.
1693-1701, in the Coll. NYHS, XLV (1912), 9, 13, 22.

'S Min. Com. Coun., Jan. 11, 1676, Oct. 6, 1682, 1, 8, 93.

03
Leisler's Rebellion |

doe enjoy,”’ agreed to issue a municipal charter which went into
fect in 1686.'*
ee its generally liberal character, the Dongan Charter
placed significant restraints on the city’s autonomy. The towns-
men had suggested that the governor and his council select the
mayor annually from the group of newly elected aldermen, but
the charter did not impose this limit upon the exegue, Boner
and his successors retained the sole power to appoint New
York’s chief magistrate and to fill the important posts of re-
corder and treasurer.'°
Inhabitants of each of the six wards established by the charter
had the right to elect one alderman and one assistant to particl-
pate with the mayor in the administration of public affairs. Resi-
dents of each district also chose two assessors to evaluate prop-
erty for purposes of taxation, a collector to receive the moneys
levied, and a constable to maintain law and order. These oa
tions took place annually on September 29; the feast of Saint
Michael the Archangel, and the successful candidates took of-
fice on October 14.'®
Meeting together every Tuesday, the mayor. recorder, alder-
men, and assistants composed the Common Council, which by
the charter had full authority to ‘“‘make Laws, Orders, Ordi-
nances & Constitutions’’ for the city. In its legislative capacity
the Council was active in all aspects of municipal life and
growth, including the laying out and the paving of streets. the
sale of public land, the erection of buildings, the collection of
refuse, and the regulation of certain businesses. Some of the
officers also had judicial powers. The mayor, recorder, and -al-
dermen formed a Court of Common Pleas or Mayor’s Court,

14 **Petition of the Mayor and Common Council of New York for a a
Charter,’’ Nov. 9, 1683: ‘Instructions tor Governor Dongan, Jan. 27, 1683,

DRNY., Ul, 337-39, 334. —_
15 Min. Com. Coun., Jan. 5, 1693, 1, 290-305. 16 Thid.


106 New York City, 1664-1710

divided. The most important residents had been influential in the
Andros regime and their continued loyalty to it after his fall
spurred men of less renown. who had experienced only frustra-
tion under the Dominion. to challenge their right to rule. The
ensuing struggle fed upon the ethnic and social divisions within
the community as each group sought popular affirmation for its
claim, and the outcome spawned a generation of conflict and
recrimination.

Lieutenant Governor Francis Nicholson and New York City’s
Dominion councilors Nicholas Bayard, Anthony Brockholst.
Frederick Philipse. and Stephen Van Cortlandt learned on
March |, 1689 that the Prince of Orange had landed in England
to seize the throne. Their position was precarious. If they pro-
claimed William as the new king and he failed to gain his objec-
tive, they would be liable to charges of treason. [f they reaf-
firmed their allegiance to James and he proved unable to hold
the crown, they could lose their offices. property, and lives.
Speaking out could only imperil them, so they chose to suppress
the news and to await developments silently. ?!

Word of Andros’s arrest by the Massachusetts magistrates
reached New York on April 26 and rumors of war with France
came the following day. No longer able to maintain their silence
the lieutenant governor and the councilors, including Van Cort-
landt who was also mayor, revealed the truth to the aldermen
and assistants. Together they made a fateful decision on April
29 to strengthen the city’s defenses by having each of the militia
companies, on a rotating schedule, provide suppiemental guards
for Fort James, located at the southern tip of Manhattan.22

Events stabilized until the end of May when a crisis of ill-will
and misunderstanding suddenly developed. On his own initia-

*t “*Stephen Van Cortlandt to Governor Andros.”’ July 9. 1689, DRNY, IL,
591.
*2 Ibid.

Leisler’s Rebellion |

tive militia lieutenant Henry Cuyler attempted to station a sentry
at the sally port of the fort. Irked by this intrusion on his tactical
control of the fort. Lieutenant Governor Nicholson reasserted
his authority and railed at Cuyler that he “rather would see the
Towne on fire than to be commanded by you.’’ Many among
the citizenry interpreted Nicholson's deprecatory response as a
threat to burn the town or to betray it to the enemy, and the
more rash decided to take action. On the afternoon of May as’
large number of people gathered in front of the house of militia
leader Jacob Leisler and marched to the fort, where Cuyler ad-
mitted them.** |
While his men stood guard at Fort James on June 3, Captain
Leisler, who claimed to have received word of a cluster of un-
identified ships off Sandy Hook, Long Island, sounded the
alarm to summon the other militia units. When the soldiers ar-
rived, they were invited into the fort. There they agreed to and
signed ‘‘A Declaration of the Inhabitants Soldiers Belonging
under the Severall Companies of the Train Band of New York,
pledging themselves to hold the fortress in trust for William and
Mary.** . |
Nicholson's response was to slip away from the city and sail
home to England on June 10. In the next two months Leisler
consolidated his hold on the rebellion. On June 22, he read in
front of the fort an official announcement of the accession of
William and Mary. and he then demanded that Mayor Van

23 [bid., p.. 577.

24 ** Modest and [mpartial Narrative of Social Grievances and Great Op-
pressions That Peaceable and Most Considerable Inhabitants of Their Majes-
ties Province of New York in America Lye Under, By the Extravagant ani Ar-
bitrary Proceedings of Jacob Leisler and His Accomplices,” Jan. 21, 1690.
ibid., p. 670; ‘tA Declaration of the Inhabitants Soldiers,’’ May 31, 1689.
DHNY. {I, 10. Charles McLean Andrews attributed ‘*A Modest and Impartiai
Narrative’? to Nicholas Bayard (Narratives of the Insurrections, 1675-1690
[New York, 1915], p. 319).


104 New York City, 1664-1710

which had civil jurisdiction, and the mayor, recorder, and be-
tween three and five aldermen were commissioned as justices of
the peace with minor criminal jurisdiction. **

Full implementation of the Dongan Charter might have pre-
vented the turmoil which in a few years was to disturb New
York’s politics. The charter took effect at a critical time when
the Dutch were losing economic control of the city but sull re-
tained great numerical strength. It authorized the election of
many municipal officeholders and allowed political participation
not only by the Dutch grandees but also by the ambitious. less
well-connected Dutch whose situations more closely resembled

those of the ordinary burghers. Success in local politics might

have appeased the lower echelon Dutch leaders who became so
prominent in the later troubles, and a voice in the affairs of the
city might have made the effects of the English conquest less
galling to the average Dutch resident.

However, James II’s decision in 1688 to add the colony of
New York to the newly created Dominion of New England
greatly minimized the positive consequences of the Dongan
Charter. Boston became the regional seat of government, and
New York City became an outpost of a union including Mas-
sachusetts Bay, Plymouth, New Hampshire, the Narragansett
Country, Connecticut, Rhode Island. New York. and East and
West Jersey.

Edmund Andros, a former governor of New York, became
the royal executive of the Dominion, and some of his former
allies from the Hudson River province exerted great power in
the new amalgam. According to disgruntled Massachusetts
leaders, a coterie of eight New Yorkers dominated the 42-man
Council which advised Andros. Even Edward Randolph, a
Crown agent who had little sympathy for Massachusetts politi-

'7 Thid. All sales of public land were made in the name of the mayor. alder-
men, and commonality.

Leisier’s Rebellion 105
cians, complained that “the governor is safe in his New Yorke
contidents, all others being strangers to his councill.”* '®

The New Yorkers who held power in the Dominion repre-
sented the cream of the Dutch and English elite in the city and
the colony. Local leaders in Manhattan suffered a relative loss
of status, and the Dutch residents of the port became a minority
in the population of the union. Charles Lodowyck, a merchant
and militia captain, expressed the dissatisfaction of the lower-
ranking leaders at this situation. A Dutchman, Lodowyck bit-
terly reported that Andros’s deputy, Captain Francis Nicholson,
who took over the administration of New York province, de-
clared that ‘‘we here meaning the Inhabitants of this Govern-
ment, could but account ourselves as a conquered peo-
ple... .? '° .
England’s Glorious Revolution of 1688 soon brought an end
to the Dominion of New England. In Massachusetts the govern-
ment had been an imposed agency controlled by outsiders who
irked the Bay Colony’s property owners and merchants by
closely examining land titles and by reserving the choicest pa-
tronage for themselves. Andros aggravated the situation by put-
ting pressure on the Puritans to erect and support an Anglican
chapel. The Boston leadership was united in opposition to the
Dominion, and as soon as news of the deposition of James I
reached the city, they arrested Andros and overthrew the gov-

ernment.”°

New York’s leadership, on the other hand, was seriously

'8 Bernard Bailyn, The New England Merchants in the Seventeenth Century
(Cambridge, Mass., 1955). Pp. 176; Michael G. Hall, Edward Randolph and

the American Colonies (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1960), p. 158.

18 “Charles Lodowyck’s Deposition concerning Governor Nicholson,”’ July
25. 1689, Documents Relating to the Administration of Leisler, in the C all.

NYHS, I (1868), 295.

20 Herbert Levi Osgood. The American Colonies in the Eighteenth Century

(New York, 1924), Wi, 415-23.


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this sooner, but | didn’t read the news-
paper stories and only this morning some
guy was discussing the case and said
there’d been an auto chase after the
shooting. Then I began putting two and
two. .”

“Know any of these four fellows?” Stet-
ter demanded.

“One of them,” the bartender admitted.
“He’s around a lot. Young lad named
Frank Fitzpatrick.”

Stetter continued digging. One thing
about the story sounded discouraging.
The bartender mentioned four men. None
of the witnesses, including the policemen
in the chase, had seen more than two men
at any time. But there might have been
more in that big Packard.

And Stetter found a surprise waiting
for him when he uncovered more com-
pletely the identity of Frank Fitzpatrick.

Fitzpatrick, a twenty-one-year-old high
school graduate, was a member of one of
the most prominent families in Harlem.
His brother was a well-know lawyer. His
family background was above reproach.

Detective Stetter decided to take things
slowly. He returned to Headquarters and
began: a check of police records to learn
if young Fitzpatrick had ever been con-
victed of any crime. He had not. But
Stetter found on file a record that he felt
would be useful to him.

FRANK FITZPATRICK had been ar-
- rested on a speeding charge and was
wanted at the present time in Traffic
Court for failing to appear in answer to
the charge.

Detective Stetter, using this circum-
stance as a wedge, immediately had a war-
rant sworn out for the youth’s arrest on
the speeding charge. He went to his home.
Young Fitzpatrick’s father, told that the
warrant was for a traffic offense, informed
the detective that his son had gone to
Springfield, Massachusetts, to the home
of a brother. Sergeant Stetter took the
midnight train for Springfield.

On the morning of January 18th, Detec-
tive Stetter, and Detective Lieutenant
John Fleming of the Springfield Police,
went to the youth’s brother’s home at 10
Summer Street. Young Fitzpatrick him-
self answered the door.

“We're officers,” explained Stetter.
“You're wanted in New York.”

The young man showed not the faintest
trace of concern.

“That sor”

“| have a warrant for your arrest, charg-
ing you with failure to show up in Traffic
Court.”

Young Fitzpatrick grinned.

“I was expecting something like that
would happen.”

“Any objections to returning to New
York Stater”

“No. Why worry about a traffic viola-
tion. Those things happen every day.”

“Okay,” said Stetter. “Get your hat.”

On the train, Stetter chatted casually
with his young prisoner. Not once did he
mention anything about a murder charge.

Back in New York, when the news was
broken to him by Stetter and Bruckman
in the latter's private office, he went white.
He made denial after denial. After half
an hour of that, Bruckman rose.

“All right, son. I’m giving you your
last chance, now, to come clean and save
yourself. There won’t be another chance.”

The youth hesitated for a minute. Then
he leaned dejectedly forward in his chair.

“All right,” he said. “I want to get this
thing off my chest. I’ll talk.”

Three men, besides himself, were in-
volved in the murder of Edward H. Dolge,
he said. They were: John Dalton, the
six-foot blond youth, bouncer in a dance

hall; Walter B. Boltwood, another street:
corner hoodlum and John T. Leonard, the
dapper little chap with the crooked smile,
accused by Fitzpatrick of being the
“brains” of the crime.

On the day of the murder they had
driven to Springfield, Massachusetts,
where Leonard sold his automobile to
Fitzpatrick’s brother for $250.

That same afternoon they had _ stolen
the Packard automobile belonging to
Louis Katz on Main Street, from in front
of a theater where the owner had parked
it. They had driven back to New York,
stopping long enough en route to put New
York license tags on the car. They had
reached the Bronx, New York City, at
9p, M., obtained a bottle of liquor, and
gone to the house of a woman Leonard
knew, to drink it.

“We were cruising around the Bronx
after eleven o’clock, pretty well lit, and
Leonard said: ‘Say, boys, do you know
what we are going to do?’ Dalton asked
him: ‘What?’ Leonard said: ‘We're going
to look out for some sucker to rob.’ Dal-
ton said he didn’t know where we'd find
anyone on a cold night like that and
Leonard said: ‘We'll look over the speak-
easies down .around Prospect and West-
chester Avenue.’ ”

Dalton and Boltwood, Fitzpatrick con-
fessed, finally came across Dolge in Mor-
mon’s speakeasy and were impressed by
the diamonds he wore in ring and stick-

in.

“We trailed his taxi to Hunt’s Point
Station. Leonard and Boltwood went
after him and he got shot while struggling
with Boltwood. Leonard did the shooting.
Then the cops chased us, but we got away.
We had a blow-out near 167th Street and
Jerome Avenue, right in front of a police
booth. We drove into a garage there
and Leonard helped fix the tire. We left
the car and went to a Turkish bath for
the night.

_“The next morning we split. up. I de-
cided to go .to Springfield until this blew
over.

“Where did the others go?” Bruckman
demanded.

“I don’t know. We agreed that if any
of us got arrested he was to try to get
out on bail and the others would meet
him at Leonard’s mother’s apartment and
help him get out of the state.”

“TH EN Boltwood was the one who
snatched Dolge’s stick-pin?”

“Yes, but there was a scuffle and he
couldn’t get the ring.”

“Where's that stick-pin now?”

“I hid it,’ Fitzpatrick admitted, “in
the room at my brother’s home, in Spring-
field. Boltwood gave it to me. He figured
it was a phoney and couldn’t be sold.
Leonard told me to ditch it; it was evi-
dence against us.”

“What became of the gun used in the
shooting?”

“1 don’t know. Dalton took it.”

“Where was Dalton employed?”

“At the Imperial Lyceum dance hall in
the Bronx.”

Fitzpatrick was locked in a cell follow-
ing his confession and Captain Bruckman,
Detective Sergeant Stetter and Assistant
District Attorney Kerr went into confer-
ence.

They had one of the four men _ in-
volved in the Dolge shooting, but the
whereabouts of the remaining three were
unknown.

“| have a ruse that | think we can
work,” Stetter said slowly. “Fitzpatrick
seems to be telling the truth when he says
that he doesn’t know where his accom-
plices are. But | think we can get them.

“We'll set bail for Fitzpatrick. A nice

high bail that he won’t be able to make—

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Master Detective

say fifty thousand. We'll slap him back
in a cell. But we'll announce to the news-
papers that Fitzpatrick, who is a suspect
in the murder, has been released on bail,

“His pals will read that. They'll think
he’s free and they’ll be itching to contact
him and learn whether or not he squawked
to us. They'll go to the home of Leon-
ard’s mother, as arranged, to see if he’s
visited there. When they do, we'll knock
them off.”

This plan was decided on. The after-
noon oe anuary 24th, with Stetter and
Bruckman keeping the home of Leonard’s
mother at 2461 Third Avenue under sur-
veillance, two men answering the descrip-
tions of John Leonard and Walter Bolt-
wood visited there. They remained for
two hours. When they emerged, Bruck-
man and Stetter were waiting.

The alert and dapper John Leonard
spotted them as they approached.

“Duck, Walt,” he shouted in warning.
“The cops!”

Simultaneously, Stetter and Bruckman
leaped forward, swung their fists. The
two young criminals went down under
heavy blows to their jaws. When they
arose, cursing, they found handcuffs about
their wrists.

Confronted with Fitzpatrick’s confes-
sion, both men acknowledged their guilt.
Leonard, bragging, admitted that he had
been the brains of the hold-up. He said
he had shot to save Botiwoot:

Detective William Colby of the Simp-
son Street police station had been sent
to the dance hall where John Dalton had
been bouncer. Hidden on a shelf in the
women’s dressing room, he located a 38
caliber revolver. Five of its cartridges
had not been fired; the sixth had. Captain
William Jones, ballistics expert of the
New York Police Department, established
that the bullet taken from Dolge’s body
had been shot from this gun. The miss-
ing diamond stick-pin was found in the
Massachusetts home of Fitzpatrick’s
brother, where it had been hidden.

THE stolen Packard, used in the shoot-

ing, was recovered from a garage at
1414 Jerome Avenue and Mary E. Tait,
bookkeeper in the garage, identified Leon.
ard as one of the men who had come there
to have the car repaired on the night of
the murder. “I’m sorry,” she told him,
when making the identification, “that |
must do this to a young fellow like you,
but I have to tell the truth.” “Don’t
worry about it,” said Leonard. “It’s the
truth. Tell it.”

On trial for his life, however, Leonard,
the ringleader, quickly repudiated his con-
fession, asserting that police had used
force to obtain it, and that when the
shooting occurred he was too drunk, in
the car’s back seat, to know what had hap-
pened.

But Assistant District Attorney Kerr
was ready for such a move. Kerr estab-
lished, through the woman at whose house
the four men had been drinking liquor,
prior to the slaying, that while they were
slightly intoxicated, they seemed to know
what they were doing. And the manager
of the garage testified that Leonard not
only had been in full possession of his
faculties immediately after the shooting,
but that he had assisted the manager of
the garage to repair the blown out tire—
a job calling for steady hands.

Walter Boltwood pleaded guilty to sec-
ond-degree murder and was sentenced to
from twenty years to life, Fitzpatrick
was released for turning State’s evidence.
But the dapper leader of the hold-up
crew, John Thomas Leonard, was sen-
tenced to die in the electric ‘chair at Sing

Sing.

75
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Master Detective

Solving New York City’s Amazing Dolge
Enigma

(Continued from page 51)

the part of any other man over his atten-
tions to Mrs. Pretchey could have pre-
cipitated the shooting.

“Nonsense!” he shouted. “Utter non-
sense! She was just a friend.”

Asked what conversation he had held
with the woman during the eight-hour
“abe that they sat and drank together,
e said that he had been discussing a pos-
sible business venture with her.

And then the close questioning of De-
tective Stetter revealed still another angle.

A man known to both himself and his
blond companion had come into the speak-
easy at five o'clock that afternoon and
quarrelled with him. .

The man, he said, was Charles A. Neil-
son, a retired patrolman, employed as an
attendant at U. S. Veterans’ Hospital, No.
81, in the Bronx and an acquaintance of
Mrs. Pretchey. He denied that the quar-
rel had been over the blond Mrs. Pretchey.

Mrs. Dolge, a refined woman, reached
the hospital as Detective Stetter was ques-
tioning her husband. She confirmed his
presen that Mrs. Pretchey was a family
riend.

FROM the hospital, Stetter went at once

to the home of Mrs, Pretchey. Here
again, he received assurances that Dolge
and the vivacious young Mrs. Pretchey
were merely friends. No light could be
shed by either the blond young woman
or her husband on the shooting of Dolge.

Neilson, when interviewed, said that the
quarrel in the speakeasy had been a sim-
ple disagreement arising out of a discus-
sion of the weather.

Stetter requested both to appear at Dis-
trict Attorney McGeehan’s office later that
morning to make formal statements. Then
the Homicide Squad detective began a
canvass of the speakeasies and night spots
in the vicinity of Mormon’s, And here,
various bartenders and night-club waiters
who knew Dolge well, began to draw an-
other picture of the distinguished looking,
gray-haired realtor whom they referred
to as the “Baron.”

Dolge, Stetter learned, was fond of
visiting night clubs in the company of
beautiful women. He had a habit of car-
rying a big roll of money which he dis-
played in public. He was known as a
generous spender. One of his favorite
haunts had been Fay’s Restaurant on
125th Street, in what has since become a
part of Harlem’s Black Belt.

Up to this point, the crime had seemed
an open-and-shut case of shooting during
attempted hold-up. Now, the Detective
Sergeant was not so sure. Had Dolge been
shot by a rival or, possibly, the husband
of one of his women friends? Or by hired
killers employed for the purpose? The
cool, deliberate manner in which he had
been shot down seemed to point in that
direction.

One witness, discovered by Detective
Stetter, insisted that the quarrel with Neil-
son the afternoon of the shooting had
been over Mrs. Pretchey’s failure to keep
an_appointment with Neilson.

hrough an accumulation of conflicting
statements, Stetter plunged. At  seven-
thirty that morning he returned to the
hospital. He wanted the names of more
of Dolge’s women companions. He found
the wounded man, weak and rapidly sink-
ing. He leaned over his bed; put a ques-
tion to him.

“Are you sure, Mr. Dolge,” he persisted,

“that you do not know the name of the
man who shot you?”

Dolge half raised himself from the bed,
shook his head.

“You must try to help me,” Stetter ex-
plained gently, “or we'll never apprehend
them.”

“It doesn’t matter,” gasped Dolge.
“You'll never get them anyway.”

He dropped back on the bed. Edward
H. Dolge—the “Baron”—was dead.

Detective Stetter examined the belong-
ings of the dead man at the hospital. His
clothes, well tailored, were of expensive
material. In his pockets Stetter tound a
miscellany of ordinary articles; the money
he had on his person at the time, his
gold watch, diamond ring and an envel-
ope containing two_ steamship tickets.

here was no trace of the stick-pin.

Stetter felt that the steamship tickets
might be a clue. He went to the steam-
ship company where he was told that the
tickets had been issued to Dolge, who had
obtained them for two women who soon
were to sail for Europe.

Confident, now, that he was on the
trail of still another “woman angle,” Stet-
ter began to trace the two women whose
names he had obtained. But that trail
ended in a blank. The two women were
relatives of a business associate of Dolge
who had simply obtained passage for them
as a favor.

Dolge’s office offered no clue to the mur-
der. His pad showed a meeting with a
man on the day of the murder, shortly
before he went to the speakeasy. But
this proved a simple business appoint-
ment.

The bullet removed from the dead man
was of .38 caliber. No trace of the miss-
ing Packard limousine or of its occupants
could be found. The mysterious killing
in the railroad station promised to be-
come an unsolved mystery.

* * *

A DAPPER young man with thin lips

and cynical smile, walked up the stone
steps of a Bronx brownstone house at al-
most the same moment that Edward
Dolge dropped back dead in his bed at
Lincoln Hospital.

He took a key from his pocket and let
himself in. He walked up a flight of stairs
to a dismal back flat of three rooms. He
stood in the living-room, his hat pushed
back on his sleek head of plastered-down
hair, and read newspaper headlines that
told of the fatal shooting of Edward
Dolge. A door connecting with the bed-
room opened and a woman came in.

She was a neighbor, living in the same
house. And she didn’t like this young,
hard-faced youth with the crooked smile.

“It’s about time you got home,” she
rasped. “Where have you been; out all
night?”

“What's it to you?” he snapped. He
put down the paper, folding it so that
the story of the shooting was concealed.

“Nothing!” she snapped back. “Noth-
ing at all, thank God. But you might
think of your wife once in a while. Helen
needed you. She.. .”

The young chap looked with startled
and suddenly comprehending eyes at the
basin and towel the woman held in her
hands. :

“You don’t mean .. .?” he began in-
credulously. “She hasn’t had, . .P”

The woman nodded.

March, 1927

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of the
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“Yes,” she answered. “She’s had her
baby. You’re a father, now. | hope you'll
make a good one.” She couldn’t resist
a parting thought. “But I doubt it.”

he twisted smile seemed to vanish.
Diffidence came into the youth’s snarling
tone.

“She’s all right? Can I see her now?”

“Yes. It’s a pity you wouldn’t stay
home at a time like this.”

He went into the room, his furtive eyes
apologetic as he approached the nineteen-
year-old girl’s bed.
gl she said.

“I’m sorry, honey. I intended to be
here. But I had business .. .”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m all right.
Look... .”

She drew back the covers until he saw
the strange and tiny bit of life.

“When ... when was he born, Helen?”

“Around midnight,” she answered.
“Only,” she corrected, smiling wanly, “it’s
not ‘he.’ It’s ‘she.’ We have a daughter,
John.”

She talked on, warmly, softly.

“IT hope you'll be able to get a steady
job. ou’re a father, you know. You
have two of us to take care of, now.”
She looked white and ill to him as she
spoke. “And, John,” she continued. “I
don’t want to nag. But honey, | don’t
like some of the fellows you go around
with. They'll only get you into trouble,
I’m afraid. We have to work, now, and
stay out of trouble, for our baby’s sake.”

He was frowning. She saw his frown
and alarm flitted into her wan young face.

“YOU'RE disappointed,” she accused.
“You're disappointed. You wanted a
son. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

He shook his head. That wasn’t what
he was thinking. He was thinking what a
mess life could be. He was thinking of
the stories in the newspaper that told of
the eyerty of Edward Dolge. The
papers said Dolge was going to die. Last
night he’d held a gun against Dolge’s
stomach and fired the shot into him that
would kill him. And, even as he was
killing a man, a new life was being born.

“No, kid,” he said huskily. “No, I’m
not disappointed. | wanted a girl, a
daughter, honest. Boys get into too
damned much trouble.”

* *k

Captain Henry Bruckman, of the
Bronx, summoned Detective Sergeant Wil-
liam Stetter to his office one day about
the middle of January. Ten days had
gone by, with the slaying of the wealthy
realtor, Edward Dolge as much a mystery
as on that fourth of January night a gun
had been held and fired against his
stomach.

“I’ve got a tip on this Dolge murder,”
he told Stetter. “It may or may not
amount to anything. But I’d check it.”
He handed Stetter a card. “Go to this
address. See the bartender, Mike Cline.”

Stetter hurried to the place, a speakeasy
at 125th Street and Lexington Avenue.
Cline, the bartender, told his story.

“Four young punks came in here the
night of this Dolge killing,” he explained.
“They seemed to be excited. I listened in
and kept polishing the bar. They talked
like they had just been chased by police.
One of them said: ‘If they'd have kept it
up, they'd surely got it.’ Another, a big
blond six-footer, said: ‘Right. Only that
heavy traffic saved our bacon.’

“Third fellow, little dapper chap with
a crooked grin, chimed in. . .”

“Yes, yes, go on.”

“It’s been a tough day,’ he said. ‘Drink
your drinks and shut up. I’m sick of
talking about it.’ There was a fourth
guy, a little fellow, too, but he looked too

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On Aug. 3] 1944

be

ENIGMA
STRANGLED,
NUDE

All identifying labels were missing
from the girl's clothing. However,
the authorities were soon able to
trace the girl by her fingerprints.

&
ke

T should have been a calm and quiet
Sunday afternoon on that winter day
at the hotel which occupies the corner

of Fourth Avenue and Fifteenth Street
in New York City.

But it wasn’t and the reason wasn’t
pleasant to look at. It lay sprawled on
the floor of room 213 between the twin
beds, a man’s striped tie knotted about
the throat. It was the body of a woman
in her early twenties. She was almost
nude, being clad only in stockings and
a flimsy slip.

Patrolman Howard Westcott turned
phlegmatically toward Mr. Frank C.
Petts, the manager, who was standing
timidly near the door, and said, ‘This
is -a case for Homicide. Call Spring
1000: .. .”

Within half an hour, Detectives Wil-
liam G. Gilmartin and John Sweeney ar-
rived with Medical Examiner Dr. Milton
Halpern. While Halpern went to work
on the body the detectives made a pre-
liminary study of the room. The drip of
water attracted the attention of Gilmar-
tin who walked over to the sink and
noted the position of the hot water
handle. He also noted the woman’s dark
fur coat slung carelessly on the bed.

Then he turned to the manager. “Who
is she?”

The manager shrugged. “A Chinese fel-
low name of Kelly Lew—leastwise that is
what the registry shows—checked in last
night. Another Chinese was with him.
About an hour after they checked in they
‘went out. Said they were going for coffee.
The clerk didn’t see them again. That’s
all we know. Never saw ‘the girl.” /

_ Gilmartin nodded and turned to the
doctor whose preliminary examination was
concluded. “Okay, Doc, what’s the dope?”

“Attempt at strangulation but she did-
n’t die of it. There’s blood on the tie. In-

was put on her.”
“What was the cause of death?”
“Concussion, probably, in combifation
with suffocation. She was pretty badly
beaten up.” He pointed to a web of gash-
es on the woman’s head.
“Was she criminally attacked?”
“Could be—but hard to say at this
time. Probably unmarried. No wedding
ring on her and no mark of one.”
Sweeney went to the bed and examined,
\ the fur coat.
| “No. label,” he said. “Cheap coat, too.”
' He sniffed ahd wrinkled his nose. “She
used a lot of perfume,” he added.
i “No label in the coat,” reflected Gil-

\ martin. “None in any of her other clothes.

{ And no pocketbook. Looks like a de-
| irate effort to prevent identification.
’And the clothes look as if they were
{ ripped from_ her.”

Sweeney closed his eyes and thought
‘hard for a few seconds.

“Dm trying to figure motive,” he said

ne

35

dicates she was beaten up after the tie -

a

Lisi YOnus APNG Set yee pteB Lt. Chinese, electrocu ted sing sing
S- 31-1944
STATE OF NEW YORK
DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONAL SERVICES
SING SING CORRECTIONAL FACILITY

OSSINING, NEW YORK 10562-5442

THOMAS A. COUGHLIN, III 914-941-0108 JOHN P. KEANE

COMMISSIONER SUPERINTENDENT

October 30, 1991

Mrz. Daniel AbLen Hearn
11 Fresh Meadow Road
Montoe, Connecticut 06468

Dear Mr. Hearn:

RE: HING, Lew Youk - #102808
YOUR: BING, Lew York

In response to your recent Letter, please be advised that, while we
do not have a hard copy record covering Mr. Hing's incarceration,
we have Located a "Record of Death" form which indicates a Date of
Binth of March 29, 1925 in Canton, China.

Also, a "List of Men Recetved into Sing Sing in the Age Group 16 to

20 years for Homicide (Murder 19, Murder poyn Andicates that Mr. Hing
was sentenced in New York County on 12-21-43 (exact Crime of Conviction
and Length of Sentence not noted) and that he was received into Sing
Sing the same day (12-21-43). This Listing also indicates that Mr.
Hing was discharged to "Execution" on 8-31-44,

We ane hopeful that this information wihl assist you in your research.
Vetp,truly yours,

|) on

JPK: gj Séfpn P. Keane
pertntendent

ee: Supt. 13911
IRC Office

YUN TIKH LI and LEW YORK HING = (isti(‘i‘s~™*S “i
Both Chinese, 2); and 18 respectively, electrocuted at.
Sing Sing (New

York) on August 31, 19h. Affirmed (Me
56 NE -2= 71,


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The Groom and the Borrowed Suit

(Continued from page 43) son-in-law is
in a big fight,” but the man closed the
door without a word and no one appeared
to help Natale. “I guess they were afraid,”
Mrs. Respizzo said.

“A few minutes later, when the fight
was over, I heard someone come up the
stairs and knock on Leonti’s door, I heard
Natale’s voice, asking for a clean shirt.
Leonti yelled at him to gO away, that he
didn’t want to see him any more.

“I then opened my door and told Jack
he could have one of my husband’s shirts
to wear, but he said he didn’t want it. He
then went downstairs.”

“Have you any idea what the fight was
all about?” Marro asked.

“Well,” the woman said, “it seems that
when Natale and Anna got married, Natale
borrowed a suit from the janitor across
the street and didn’t return it. The man
kept asking him to give it back and last
night he came over here with some other
men and tried to take it off Natale.”

“At about what time was that?” Marro
inquired.

“The fight started around one-thirty.
But that wasn’t all. About an hour anda
half later I heard a woman scream. She
said, ‘Don’t, no, no, don’t!’ The sound
came from Anna’s room.”

M MARRO THANKED the woman for
her information and then went to the

floor below where he talked with Max

Schriber, a restaurant keeper.

“Sure, I heard the racket,” Schriber said.
“A deaf man could have heard it. There
was a fight up in the hall.”

“Did you hear anything after that?”

“Yes, an hour or so later I heard a
woman scream. She cried out, ‘No, no,
don’t!’ Then all was ‘quiet again.”

Rose Berman, a young girl who lived on
the same ffoor, told Marro that Joe Leonti
had confided to her that morning that Jack
Natale had killed Anna.

Determined to question the Leonti fam-
ily further, Marro returned to the pre-
cinct station, where he learned that De-
tectives John Stedman and Jack Spilane
of the Homicide Bureau, and H. B. Rosen-
feld of the Seventh Detective Squad had
heard that Natale was ina speakeasy that
he owned at 116 East First Street. The
place was in the basement of a tenement
house,

The speakeasy appeared to be empty
when the officers entered it. Then they
Saw a man stretched out on top of an up-
right piano. He was sound asleep.

Awakened, the lone occupant of the
Place identified himself as Jack Natale.
“What do you guys want?” he demanded
belligerently. “Go ahead and search the
joint. There isn’t a drop of liquor in it.”

“We didn’t come here to search the
place,” he was informed. “Get your coat
on and come along. They want you down
at Headquarters.”

“What for?” Natale demanded. “
haven’t done anything.” He drew on his
coat and accompanied the Officers to the
precinct station, where he was shunted
aside into one of the witness rooms while

Assistant District Attorney Marro finished
questioning Mrs. Sadie Leonti.

“You told me earlier today that you
were asleep when your daughter was
murdered,” Marro said. “You. lied to me,
Mrs. Leonti. Now I want you to tell me
the truth. You were awake when Anna
was murdered, -weren’t you?”

The woman’s face flushed. “But I was
telling the truth,” she insisted. “Do you
think I would be lying to you when my
only daughter lies dead at the hands of an
assassin?” She burst out crying.

“If you love your daughter as much as

JUNE, 1942

you pretend to,” Marro said, “you will
tell me all you know—now.”

The woman’s tear-filled eyes roved
about the room. Finally she spoke. “Yes,
I will tell you who did it. It was our son-
in-law, Jack Natale.”

Marro heaved a sigh of relief. “Did you
see him do it?” he demanded.

“Yes. I heard her cry out and went to
her door. I saw the knife in Jack’s hand.
There was blood on it.”

“You should have told me that in the
beginning,” Marro said, “and saved all
this trouble.”

He then went into the next room to
question Joe Leonti.

“Sure, I know who did it,” the youth
said. “It was Natale. I saw him go into
the kitchen and pick up a big bread knife
and stab her with it.”

Suddenly Marro paused in his ques-
tioning. Joe had told him earlier, and it
had been partially confirmed by others,
that he slept in the kitchen. He could have
seen Natale enter the kitchen and get the
knife, but how could he have seen him
stab Anna unless he followed him into the
newlyweds’ room? .

“But you were sleeping in the kitchen,”
Marro said. “Tell me how you happened
to see him stab her.”

“Who said I was sleeping in the
kitchen?” the youth flared up. “I slept
with my mother and father last night.
And the door to Anna’s bedroom was open
all the time.”

. Marro again questioned Leonti. “No,
Joe slept in the kitchen,” the father said.
“He always sleeps there.”

Marro decided that there was something
wrong somewhere. The case he had
thought to be cracked wide open by Mrs.
Leonti’s statement now seemed somewhat
muddled. He decided to question Natale.

“Did you kill your wife?” he asked the
husband point blank.

@ “NO, I didn’t,” Natale replied. “I didn’t

know she was dead until you brought
me up here and some detectives told me.
I don’t know yet what it’s all about. Every-
body seems to be trying to pin it on me.”

“Nobody’s trying to do anything of the
sort,” Marro said. “If you are innocent,
all you have to do is tell the truth. We’ll
get the right man eventually, no matter
who he is.”

“All right,” Natale said, “what do you
want to know?”

After several preliminary questions as
to his birth, parentage and occupation,
Marro asked him:

“How did you get along- with Anna?
Tell me how you came to meet her, and
about your courtship. Tell me anything
else you can remember.”

“Well, there isn’t much to tell about the
courtship,” Natale said. “I met her
several months ago, then I didn’t see her
for a while. When I moved to Houston
Street I ran into her again and we became
quite friendly. After that we saw quite a
bit of each other. Later on I moved to
Broome Street and we got married.”

“What was the fight in the hall about?”

Natale said some fellows from across
the street came over and demanded that
he take off a suit he had borrowed.

“But why did you borrow a suit?”
Marro asked. “You have several suits
hanging in your room.”

“They’re old ones, and I wanted a nice
one to get married in. I just kept putting
off taking it back, thinking I would have
it cleaned first, and then all of a sudden
these men flocked around me and de-
manded that I take it off. That made me
mad and the fight started. Before it was

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over they had ripped my shirt to pieces.

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INSTITUTE OF APPLIED SCIENCE
4920 Sunnyside Ave.. Dept. A-143 Chicago, Illinois

‘ 61

se,

wisting and dodg-
getting to stay in
> rest.”

Kuhlman, Poh-
considered as a
police. However,
ned his men that
1 would shoot. to

carried a gun
He was a petty
often for a living
ct of squalid con-
e had been work-
day of his arrest.
arper, Kuhlman
ype that abhors

talk in Ohio,
said: “Wait until
nown as a square

< to Matt Leach.
lice. commander
quickly, taking

finger missing.
d I would know

ial difference in
by Poholsky and
ky placed Hicks
it actually at the
Captain Miller.
'.000 to take part
d the offer
ot, because
derers, was

al told as coldly
mberment as of
th he had ‘been

1.and Hicks had
ome on the pre-
roducing Kuhl-
hisky salesmen.
the auto while
he house. Soon
ticks called for

onscious on the
lind while he,
ook the uncon-
ito. Hicks later

to Cincinnati.

1ots

Warsaw, Ken-
ited for a ferry,
ining. Poholsky

leaned back,
lown with one
es with a gun
aptain Miller’s
drove to Madi-
back into Ken-

he lonely bap--
iad decided to
digging. After
1 rock and had
&
tremor how he
inds. “I expect
('m ready. But
iger on Hicks
*
ed on Decem-
we C. O'Byrne
cutor Kenneth
. Lowe and J.
mney gen-

going on
iot on the trail
His progress

was marked by holdups and led through
Nebraska. Once they thought they had
him in Lincoln, but he escaped to the
West Coast.

Early the morning of December 10
two bandits held up a downtown Port-
land, Oregon theater, tied up the theater
official employes and officials, and walked
out with a bag containing almost $1.000.
Unfortunately for the bandits, two police-
men aproached the theater just then to
act as guards for the transfer of the very
money the bandits carried.

Suspicious of the two strangers, the
officers followed them to an auto parked
nearby, then accosted them. One bandit
reached for his gun. A police fist swung
and connected hard with the bandit’s eye.
The bandit crumbled.

He was William Kuhlman. His finger-
prints quickly showed what he was
wanted for and before many hours In-
diana State Patrolmen Barton and Sheriff
Pulskamp were on a plane headed for
Portland.

Kuhlman' confessed to Portland Police
Chief H. M. Niles. He waived extradi-
tion, confessing again to Captain Matt
Leach after a fast return by plane to
Indiana. He told the Hicks’ jury essen-
tially the same gruesome story Poholsky
already had so unfeelingly told ther.

He told Leach of a girl Williams had
picked up in Chicago and fallen in love
with, refusing to leave her. State detec-
tives immediately obtained information
about the girl. In Chicago they found her
parents. And on that day, Captain Matt
Leach in Brookville at the Hicks trial
offered to bet that Williams would be
under arrest in five days.

From the parents the detectives had
learned that the girl wrote letters to them,
and obtained the address of her apart-
ment in San Francisco.

Steps Into Police Trap

ATE December 16 a young man who

only a few days before had obtained
employment in a San Francisco dry
goods store as a salesman walked into the
apartment of the girl with whom he had
fallen in love.

It was into the arms of the police h
walked instead of into the arms of
girl. He told her he hoped to escapéXthe
electric chair and come back to her sor
time. She told him she would be waitin

But opposed to the story of Frank Gore
Williams that he only thought Captain
Miller was to be kidnapped and that he
was not in the auto when the captain was
shot were the adverse stories of the
others. The same fate threatened him
that the jury had given to Heber L. Hicks
on December 21.

“Guilty of first degree murder as
charged in the indictment.”

That same night Judge O'Byrne sen-
tenced Hicks to die April 10 in the eleceric
chair.

Williams, Poholsky and Kuhlman were
whisked away to the state reformatory
after the trial because of fear that a jail
delivery would be attempted. Their pleas
were taken in February.

The piece of flesh and piece of home-
made shirt found about a mile and a half
from the baptismal pool was called only
a coincidence by the prosecution in the
Hicks trial. The jury said in its verdict

OHN FIORENZA, depraved sex
/ murderer of Mrs. Nancy Titterton in
New York, was executed in the Sing
Sing death chair after appeals and peti-
tions to the governor had failed. A
sirigle strand of rope was the clue that
doomed Fiorenza to death.

ad

Theodore DiDonne, 31, and Joseph
Bolognia, 24, two of six thugs who killed
a subway collector for a bagful of nickels,
paid for their brutal crime in the electric
chair.

5d

Louis R. Shaver, 58, was hanged at San
Quentin prison for the murder of his wife,
Lillian. Jealousy was the motive for the
murder.’

Ad

Jesse Roberts, 24, a grocery clerk,
turned bandit and.killed a tavern keeper
in Chicago during a gun battle in which
he was wounded.: The wound proved
fatal. Roberts’ first crime, was his last.

ad

Tommie Howard was hanged in Caddo
parish jail, Louisiana, for the ambush
shooting of Daniel’L. Perkins, who sur-
vived his wounds, but was, crippled for
life.

Louis Lazar, 29, was electrocuted for
the murder of Morris Saskowitz, 55.

Lazar killed Saskowitz during an gat

ment over a $25 paint bill.
>

Chester White, 33, who slew his sweet-
heart; Charles Ham, 20, and Fred Fowler,
who killed a man during a holdup, were
executed on the same night at Sing Sing
prison.

bd

Edward Williams, 62, a confidence man
in the county jail at Chicago, complained
of rheumatic pains and was given a cup:
of linament. He drank it and died a
suicide.

Ad

One of Sing Sing’s- oldest inmates,
Jack Parker, 76, died.there recently of
pneumonia. All his life Parker had been
in and out of prison. At the time. of his
death he was serving a life sentence as

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that the jurisdiction was in Indiana. Even a fourth offender, He was known as NAME! 030. ce nec eee ween eeee ec ee ai AGE.
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SORT SOON Me Nira a ee ESI) LMS Biv cae


or

LAZAR, Leuis, wh, elec. NY (Kings) January 14, 1937

Police are shown above removing the
body of Morris Saskowitz, murder vic-
tim, from cellar of his Brooklyn home.

10

DARING DETECTIVE,
Februaryk 1938

ORRIS s
his house
4 his eves
that flooded the
fireplace, he pause
sun’s warmth. Uh:
a cement walk at
merged into the
cellar and went ins
Upstairs ina
Estelle. turned ot
TO postpone wert
shadow patterns
trees outside.
Everything was
sharp report cut t
Startled into wa
ing nothing but su
and leaned over tl
Along the ceme:
a glimpse of curly
sport shoes. At
She saw a sunbur:
he disappeared do
The girl craned
the street was qu)
she heard somethin:
It was a hoarse
and fear of death.
It came from t!
Feverishly the
wrap around her
into the cellar.

By RI


ORRIS SASKOWITZ stood in the doorway of

his house on Ocean parkway, Brooklyn, blinking

his eyes in the bright, early morning sunlight
that flooded the street. Like a cat yawning before the
fireplace, he paused, stretched his arms and basked in the
sun’s warmth. Then he crossed the lawn and turned into
a cement walk at the side of the house. His stout figure
merged into the shadows as he opened the door to the
cellar and went inside.

Upstairs in a rear bedroom, Saskowitz’s daughter,
Estelle, turned off her ringing alarm clock and decided
to postpone getting up. She watched the flickering
shadow patterns on the ceiling as the breeze rustled the
trees outside.

Everything was dreamy and pleasant when suddenly a
sharp report cut through her consciousness.

Startled into wakefulness she sat up and listened. Hear-
ing nothing but still puzzled, she arose, went to the window
and leaned over the sill.

Along the cement walk a man was running. She caught
a glimpse of curly hair, the streak of a gray suit and white
sport shoes. At the end of the walk the man wheeled.
She saw a sunburned face that vanished a second later as
he disappeared down the street.

The girl craned her neck to see what had happened but
the street was quiet. She had started back to bed when
she heard something which froze the blood in her veins.

Tt was a hoarse cry that held in it all of man’s terror
and fear of death.

It came from the cellar.

Ireverishly the girl stepped into slippers and pulled a
wrap around her shoulders. She hurried downstairs and
into the cellar.

By RICHARD HIRSCH

For a second or so she stared into the dim light unable to dis-
tinguish anything except vague outlines. Then she saw her
father. He was lying on the floor near the furnace. A look of
horror contorted his features. A hole in his chest pumped bright
spurts of red.

The girl knelt by his side, sick with fear. She saw that his
upturned eyes were expressionless. She fled the cellar and ran
across the street to the office of Dr. D. R. Grotenstein. When she
brought the doctor back to the house, Saskowitz was barely
breathing.

Shortly afterward Patrolman Walter F. Matter of the 70th
precinct paused at the green box of a police telephone to check in
to his station house. He opened the door and lifted the receiver.

“Matter—forty to forty-four,” he drawled.

“Wait,” said the sergeant. ‘“Here’s one for you. Investigate an
ambulance call requested on Ocean parkway.” He gave the
address.

“Okay,” said the patrolman and slammed the call box door shut.

With long strides Matter headed for the house. When he

After the ruthless murder, detectives, left,
searched the cellar of the Saskowitz home for
clues. The killer is shown above as he appeared
when officers accompanied him to Sing Sing.


ve

oe apegemcerye - ——--

verre Rema Ere

$12

Creen came into prominence when he cut
the throat of Leo Frank, central figure in
one of Georgia’s most sensational mur-
der cases, the killing of Mary Fagan.
Frank was found guilty and sentenced to
hang. His sentence was commuted by the
then Governor John Slaton. Frank’s life
was miraculously saved after Creen’s at-
tack; but six weeks later he was taken
from prison by a mob and lynched. Creen
spent seven years in solitary confinement
for his attack.

AUGUST 1
OKLAHOMA CITY, Oxta—Charles

_ Urschel, the kidnapped oil millionaire, has

been released by his captors after being
held for nine days. It is reported that a
ransom of $100,000 was paid.

COFFEYVILLE, Kansas—Bandits with
machine guns carried off the safe of the
State Bank of Weir, from the town of
that name near here. They imprisoned
fifteen citizens including the night mar-
shal, and the night telephone operator,
before seizing their loot.

NEW ROCHELLE, N. Y.—Charles
Harper and Leo Frazier, both of West
Virginia, are being held here for question-
ing, in regard to the shooting in Charles-
ton, W. Va., of Deputy-Sheriff Roy Sham-
blin and Ralph Harper.

AUGUST 3
CHICAGO, I:tu—Chief of Police
Charles. A. Wheeler of Bridgeport, Con-
necticut, was elected president of the In-
ternational Association of Police Chiefs
today at the final session of the organiza-
tion.

LOS, ANGELES, Cauir—With the ar-
rest of four men, the sheriff’s office here
announced that it believed several daring
mail robberies in Southern California
would be explained. Two of the arrested

men were James F. Burke a former aid to.

the late “Legs” Diamond, and John T.
Casey, an alleged paroled Illinois convict.

AUGUST 5

NEW YORK, N. Y—Henry F. San-
born, General Eastern Agent of the St.

Louis and San Fraancisco Railroad, was .

found today shot to death and buried
in a shallow grave on Long Island. His
murder is a mystery.

GASTONIA, N. C.—The puzzling ques-
tion of a man’t guilt or innocence remains
unanswered here as discussion of the ex-
ecution yesterday of Clay Fogelman for
murder continues. He died protesting his
innocence, and there are strong reasons
for believiig he was speaking the truth.

MARSHFIELD, Wis.—Special Polj
Officer Fred Beell, former world’s, mj
weight wrestling champion, was s
killed early today when he interrgpted a
robbery at the plant of the Marshfield
Brewery Company. The bandits scaped
in Beell’s car. :

AUGUST 6

ATLANTA, Ga—Chief. T. O. Sturdi-
vant announced that William R. Delenski,
a suspect in the Ottley kidnapping case,
had been extradited from San Antonio,
Texas.

CHICAGO, Itt.—Paul Maxim, escaped
25-year-old Ohio convict, was picked up
here after -five years of freedom. He
had worked himself up to the position
of advertising director of a large paint
company. He blames a girl for tipping
off the police.

True Detective Mysteries

AUGUST 7
LOUISVILLE, Ky.—Fourteen’ slayings,
most* of them attributed to week-end
quarrels over the recent primary elections,
occurred in the mountain counties during
Saturday and Sunday.

AUGUST 8

The accused were being taken to Birming-
ham for safekeeping.

AUGUST 14
BOSTON, Mass.—Sixteen convicts are

weaid to be at large after a jail-break fol-

owing a riot at the Suffolk County House
of Correction on Deer Island in Boston

GREENWOOD, Miss—A_ death-bed # Harbor,

statement by Dr. Preston Kennedy ac-
cusing an associate woman physician of
poisoning him, was discovered today b
District Attorney Jordan. Dr. Se

e

hi
died Sunday, presumably from poisohed

whisky.

CHICAGO, Iti—Federal authorities
here have arrested Louis Stacy, charging
him with knowledge of the participants
in the Kansas City Union Station massa-
cre. They state they have learned the
identity of the gunmen who killed four
officers and convict Nash.

ALBANY, N. Y—A warrant for the
arrest of Manny Strewl, a beer agent, on
a charge of kidnapping John J. O’Con-
nell, Jr., was issued this afternoon.

CINCINNATI, Oxn1o—In spite of the
fact the relatives and friends of the slain
27-year-old society youth, Oliver Bailey,
believe he was killed by kidnappers,
police here are searching for a woman in
connection with the murder.

CARLISLE, Pa—M. M. McCreight, 40
years old, was sentenced to from ten to
twenty years in the penitentiary for kid-

napping Robert Brown, an automobile
salesman. McCreight and another man

are said to have abducted Brown in order

_to get possession of his car.

AUGUST 10

OKLAHOMA CITY, Oxia—A total of
$199,620 was the amount of the ransom
paid for the release of Charles Urschel, it
was disclosed today. This is believed to
be the largest sum ever paid to kidnappers
to obtain the release of their victim.

. TOPEKA, Kans.—The forgeries of Kan-
sas Municipal Bonds have now been esti-
mated at approximately $800,000, one of
the biggest swindles in history. The men
are in jail, and three banks have been
forced to close, as a result of the whole-
sale fraud.

AUGUST 11
JONESBORO, Itu.—Five young miners
have been found guilty of the murder of
Laverne Miller, 14-year-old schoolgirl.
Four were sentenced for life and one for
forty years. The killing was the result
of a mine feud.

, AUGUST 12
NEW YORK, N. Y—Morris Saskowitz,
proprietor of a garage, was ambushed at
his home in Brooklyn, and shot to death.
No motive for the slaying has been un-
covered.

SAS CITY, Mo.—Three night-club
operators were slain in a mid-town apart-
ment here today. Two of them were
killed by Sheriff Thomas B. Bash who
happened to pass by when they were put-
ting the third man on the spot.

AUGUST 13

TUSCALOOSA, Ata—Masked men,
bent on avenging the assault and murder
of a white girl, took three colored youths
from armed deputies on a lonely road
twenty-four miles from Birmingham early
this morning. Later the bodies of two
of the Negroes were found riddled with
bullets. The fate of the third is unknown.

WASHINGTON, D. C.—Agents of the

partment of Justice believe that in
afresting the escaped Kansas convict Har-
vey Bailey, they have caught one of the
ring-leaders of the Urschel kidnapping.
Captured with him were R. G. Shannon and
his wife; their son Arman Shannon and
his wife Oleta; and Earl Brown, father
of Oleta.

BIRMINGHAM, Ata—The body of
Elmore Clark, the last of the three young
Negroes accused of killing an 18-year-old
white girl, has been found tied to a tree
and riddled with bullets. A Grand Jury
has been summoned to investigate the
lynching.

SAN FRANCISCO, Catir.—Police here
accuse the father of a one-month-old child
of killing it by slashing its throat, be-
cause of deformities in the child’s body.
The arrest of the man is causing much dis-
cussion as to the justification of the mo-
tive,

FLINT, Micu.—Balfe MacDonald was
today sentenced to from ten to fifteen
years in prison for the murder of his
widowed mother.

ST. LOUIS, Mo.—Police here believe
that in the arrest of a Negro ex-convict,
they have discovered the identity of The
Phantom Marauder who has been terror-
izing this city. Chief of Detectives Kaiser
stated that the suspect has admitted as-
ke pg nine women within the last few
weeks.

AUGUST 15

SALEM, Mass.—Mrs. Jessie Costello
was found innocent of the murder of her
husband, William J. Costello, by a jury
here today, and set free. This climaxed
one of the most fascinating mystery death
cases in New England in a decade.

MOUNT ARLINGTON, N. J.—The
body of Miss Anna Ulm, secretary to a
New York doctor, was found lashed to a
tree trunk near here. She had been beaten
to death. The slaying is baffling the police
of two states.

HAMPTON FALLS, N. H—A murder,
in which the victim was probably dis-
membered while she was. still alive,
wrapped in paper and tossed from an auto-
mobile, was uncovered here yesterday.
The identity of the victim is unknown
and, the killing having occurred weeks
ago, is proving baffling to the police. A
handbag, found near by, contained a wed-
ding ring inscribed “L. D. to L, P. D.”

ROCKFORD, Itu.—Matches, a wash
basin and a quart of gasoline, were re-
sponsible for the bringing in of Mrs. Earl
Hanson for questioning in regard to the
killing of her husband. Earl Hanson was
burned to death in his automobile after
it has been fired by a person or persons

- unknown.

CHICAGO, Itt—Members of the Fac-
tor kidnap ring though surrounded by 300
Federal, State and City officers, eluded the
posse, and made off with $50,000 contained
in' a decoy package, by means of which
the officers had hoped to trap them.

ltteer

a oo

drmarore


Ba ae

_ bility as owner of the building. Ten min-

utes after he had left, she had heard a shot
from below and hurried down to the
cellar, where she found her father lying
on the floor.

“Did you have any visitors here earlier
today,” Leach pressed, “or did you see
any strangers in the building?”

“No,” Stella replied. .

Her father owned and operated a garage
at 57 First Avenue, Manhattan, she told
the officers, but he only went there oc-
casionally because it was quite a trip from
his home.

“What about his employes?” ‘Honan

asked. “Has he had any labor trouble?”
~ “Never, so far as I know. Most of his
men have worked for him ten years or
more.”

Learning that the girl was unmarried,
Leach inquired about her suitors. She was
not engaged, Stella said, but went out with
several young men, all of whom her father
had met and approved.

Leach and Honan left the young woman
in the care of Doctor Grutenstein and
returned to the basement to join the other
detectives.

“We’ve found no weapon of any kind,
but we've turned up two good clues,”
Gegan reported, holding out his hands.

“> In one he held a man’s gold wrist watch,

uspended by a piece of wire to avoid
smudging possible fingerprints. In the

Other was a flattened big-calibre bullet.

“This watch was under the stairs, about
three yards from where the body lay,” the
captain explained. “The leather strap had
been ripped away from the buckle and it
looks as though the watch might have been

torn off the killer’s wrist in a struggle with

the victim. We pried the bullet out of the
wall directly opposite the stairs. It’s a large-
sized slug and, fired at close range, it
probably made that jagged wound resem-
bling a stiletto hole. It must have pierced
the victim’s chest and lodged in the wall.”

The slayer apparently had taken the
weapon with him, Gegan continued, and
made his escape through the outside cellar
door, which was ajar. Technicians who

- dusted the doorknob had obtained three
‘good fingerprints.

Leach ordered the knob, watch and flat-
tened slug rushed to the Poplar Street
laboratory at once for further examination.
Then, leaving the detectives to canvass the
neighborhood for witnesses who might have
seen the killer, the deputy commissioner
returned to headquarters and notified Man-
hattan police to proceed to the Saskowitz
garage in search of leads.

So before noon, Leach received
the report of the autopsy which had

* been performed at the county morgue. It

established that the victim had been killed
by a large-calibre bullet which had pierced
the heart, confirming the theory. of the
detectives as to the manner of death.
Honan, Gegan, and their men, mean-
while, had gone patiently from door to
door, questioning all residents of the vicin-
ity. But none had seen the murderer flee-
ing nor had noted anything unusual occur-

' Ying near the Saskowitz residence before

the crime. All agreed that the slain man

-.was well-liked by his tenants, his employes
-and his customers. Although comfortably
ee ued, Be _was Oy no means pealthy and 5

“No one at all? mn

tification bureau.  ~
GAS gous surmised, & Leach told the : off

HOUSE OF TRAGEDY—
Two-family home on Ocean Parkway,
Brooklyn, where Mr. Saskowitz’s
body was found in the basement.

therefore was an unlikely target for black-
mail or extortion.

The detectives returned to headquarters
and reluctantly conceded to Leach that
they had made little progress, beyond the
clues which they had retrieved at the scene.

“Outside of the wrist watch, the- door-
knob and the lethal slug,” Honan told the
deputy commissioner, “we haven’t been
able to dig up a single substantial lead.”

“What you’ve found may be enough to
put us on the killer’s trail,” Leach retorted,
as he picked up a typewritten sheet. “I
have here the laboratory report. Identical
fingerprints have been found on the door-
knob and watch. They’ve been forwarded

to the identification bureau for checking

with the Prints of known criminals on
file there.”

“How about the bullet?” Honan. be)

“According to the ballistics experts, it
was fired from a thirty-eight revolver. The
markings on it are distinctive and they’re
being checked with those on record. Even
if the gun isn’t listed, that will be helpful
when and if we find the murder weapon.”

The fact remained, the officers knew, ~

that they still were without a‘ suspect. Just
then the phone rang on Leach’s desk and
he answered. The call was from ine BeLe

witz had said—that her father never had
+ experienced any wide-scale labor diffi ul-
‘ties, eines men ‘(Continued on page

LED THE PROBE—
ae Com. J.-A. eee

cers, hanging up, “the slayer has no crim-
inal record—at least none in this city. The
prints don’t match any we have on file
here. But copies have been forwarded to
the State Police at Albany and the Federal
Bureau of Investigation at Washington for
further checking with their files. While
we’re waiting for reports, you have one
remaining lead to follow—the wrist watch. —
Try and trace it to the owner.”

The commissioner handed the officers
a detailed description of the watch, includ-
ing its makes, type and serial number.
The timepiece was a 17-jewel Elgin, rec- .
tangular in shape and set in a 14-karat |
gold case. The strap was of pigskin’ with
a gold-plated buckle.

“The factory of the Elgin Ratows
Watch Company is at. Elgin, Illinois,”
Honan said after studying the description.
momentarily. “Our best bet is to wire th
plant and have them check the serial num
ber with their files, so we can find where.
it was shipped.”

The other officers agreed with this, and
Honan dictated the necessary telegram
over the phone to Western Union. No
sooner had he replaced the receiver than |
another call came for Leach, this time
from the East 51st Street station in Man
hattan, where detectives of that district
had returned after completing inquiries at,
the nearby Saskowitz garage. _

Careful questioning of the garage em:
ployes had confirmed what Stella Sask


fa SS MURDER SCENE

Police searching for clues in
crime for which man pictured
on opposite page was executed.

Goss,

dS Rigen RE Fact eg a torbian OE

Rec ee SPRL SSC Se dh ok SUS Has He RA Macon BS, BARD

more long chance with the Law—and paid with his life!

RIMINOLOGISTS for years have

argued that there is no such thing as

a “perfect” crime—at least in the

murder department. A crime may

seem to be perfect, for a certain
period. But even after a considerable lapse
of time, killers have been caught through
determined detective work, or through
their own carelessness or stupidity or ego-
tism. Sometimes their whims give them
away, as when vanity tempts them to brag
of what they “got away with” or when
curiosity impels them to return to the
scene of their crime.

One so-called perfect crime might well
have gone unpunished if it hadn’t been
for the overpowering greed of the slayer.
Not content with revenge, he gambled for
gold and lost—lost everything, including
his life.

This case had its’ beginnings in Brook-
lyn, N. Y., where a blistering heat wave
had held the sweltering residents in its
grip for more than two weeks. No rain
was in sight as the sun climbed in the sky
that torrid August morning.

In the kitchen of the second-floor apart-

ment in a two-family stucco house at 430
Ocean Parkway, attractive Stella Sasko-
witz was preparing ~ breakfast for her
widowed father, Morris, owner of the
building, who had gone down into the base-

“Papa!

ment to start the fire under the hot water
heater.

Picking up a pot of coffee, the young
woman glanced at the electric clock over
the sink and saw that it was 8:55. At
the sudden, muffled sound of a shot from
below, she almost dropped the coffee pot.
Setting it down sharply, she descended hur-
riedly to the cellar. “Papa!” she cried.
What’s happened?”

Reaching the foot of the stairs, she
stopped abruptly, recoiling in horror at
what she saw. The body of her father lay
sprawled on the concrete floor, his lifeless
eyes staring vacantly and an ugly crimson
stain spreading over his shirtfront.

The girl dropped to her knees and threw.
her arms around her father’s shoulders.”

“Speak to me, Papa!” she pleaded, sobbing
’ hysterically.
But no sound issued from between the.

“Oh, speak to me!”

man’s pale lips. Other footsteps clattered
on the stairs as a young woman in a crisp
white nurse’s uniform hurried down to the
cellar with Dr. D. R. Grutenstein, a next-
door neighbor, both attracted by the sound
of the shot. They saw the body of Sasko-
witZ, a prosperous garage proprietor, and
his daughter kneeling beside it.

“Let me look at him,” Doctor Gruten-

‘stein said, pressing the daughter aside.
The physician placed an ear to the victim’s

es

chest and listened in vain for the beating —

of his heart. He felt for the garageman’s
pulse, but could not find it. Then he pushed
up an eyelid and saw the fixed pupil.

“Sorry, Stella,” he said gently, turning to
the weeping girl. “Your father is beyond
all aid) He must have died almost in-
stantly.”

While the doctor was examining the
body, the nurse had gone upstairs to the
first-floor offices of her employers, where

‘She telephoned the Lawrence Avenue sta-
tion of the New York City Police meee

ment.

N A MATTER of oniiaied an ‘exbulance
from Kings County Hospital howled to

a stop in front of the house. An intern
hurried inside with the driver’ as two

_ police cars pulled up, one from Brooklyn

headquarters bringing Deputy Police Com-

‘missioner John A. Leach and Captain Ray-
mond Honan of the Homicide Squad, and.

the other a detail of detectives from the
local district, headed by Captain James J.

Gegan.

The officers entered the building and
found the intern bending over the corpse
of Morris Saskowitz on the cellar floor.
Quickly the intern confirmed the findings
of Doctor Grutenstein. It was now 9:25,
and he estimated that the victim had died
almost half an hour earlier of a deep
wound in his chest.

“All of us here,” Doctor Geutrasteln .

said, indicating the victim’s daughter and
the nurse, “are certain we heard a shot.
And yet the wound in the victim’s chest
doesn’t look as if it were made by a bullet.”

“I quite agree,” the intern responded.

“It goes clear through to the back and has°
‘the jagged appearance of a stab wound,

made by some sharp instrument like a
stiletto which was withdrawn, a
the edges.”

While Gegan and his men "started a
search of the basement for the weapon
and other possible clues, Honan went
through the victim’s pockets. On the left
hip, the captain found a wallet containing
some $50 in bills, and in the side pocket
of his trousers a quantity of small change.
From the watch pocket, he took an expen-
sive timepiece, and from the victim’s right
hand a valuable diamond ring.

“It certainly doesn’t look like a robbery,”
Commissioner Leach observed.

“Right,” Honan agreed, “unless the killer
became too frightened after the slaying to
remove the loot.”

As the intern and the driver unfurled
a stretcher on which to carry the body out

to the ambulance, Leach escorted Miss = ~~

Saskowitz upstairs to the apartment she
occupied with her father.

Gegan and his men remained downstairs
to continue the search for any clues.
Doctor Grutenstein followed the girl and

. the officers up to the living room of the

Saskowitz suite, where he administered a
sedative to the shaken young woman. Soon
she was able. to answer questions.
had absolutely no idea who might have
killed her father. He wasn’t the type of
man to make enemies. She went on to
explain that Morris Saskowitz had left

-the apartment to go down into the base-—

ment at 8:45 that morning. Starting the _

- fire under the hot-water boiler was a regu- —
; onl ae coe which was his responsi- :

She -

ule. °33

c

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‘a shifty character,

This singular taciturnity was given a
dramatic explanation when Nathan Kron-
‘man was sent for. He walked into the
interrogation room, took one look at the
dark, sallow youth, and exclaimed: “He’s
my wife’s cousin! He’s William Neufeld,
Berthe Neufeld’s son! He saw all of
Annie’s jewelry when he came to the party
we gave for him last April!”

Before the night was over, a visit to
Neufeld’s Georck Street apartment and a
talk with his mother had added strong
brush strokes to the portrait of William
Neufeld as a robber and killer. In the
apartment was found the major part of
Annie Kronman’s jewels, and the few
pieces not there were represented by pawn
tickets. Then Mrs. Neufeld tearfully ad-
mitted that her son had been in trouble
in Chicago. “He stole things,” she said,
“and went to jail. When he got out, I

der in the first degree.
him guilty, and Justice Edgar L. Fursman =
in the =

decided to bring him to New York with
I didn’t tell any
of the family about William. I wanted him *

me for a fresh start.

to have a chance.”

The nature of the “chance” Neufeld had
seized was effectively presented by the
State of New York when he was brought

to trial in December, charged with mur- =

sentenced the defendant to die
electric chair. On January 14th, 1901, the
sentence was carried out at Sing Sing
prion.

The archives of the Kronman case yield
no evidence that, at the time of the execu-
tion, Sergeant Carey felt impelled to point
out to certain officials he knew, that the
right person, at last was paying the penalty

for the crime.

TICKET TO THE HOT SEAT

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 34

who worked for him had served him, in
general, for many years and admired him.
They were deeply. grieved by his sudden
death. :

However, there was one amar eunplowve
whom Saskowitz had discharged personally
two weeks earlier on one of his infrequent
Visits to the garage. This man had worked
at the garage less than a month as a night
attendant before he was suspected of rob-
bing the cash register. He had threatened

o “get even” with Saskowitz when he was
fired. :

This man shaped up as the No. 1 sus-
pect in the case. He was quite obviously
frequently changing
from one rooming-house address to an-
other, and the detectives put in practically
a whole day of legwork before they finally
located him, only to discover that he had
an unimpeachable alibi; on the night be-
fore Mr. Saskowitz’s death he had rented a
room in Hoboken, had spent the night
there, and had reported at his new job in
Hoboken early the next morning and
worked all day until six o’clock. Further-
more, his fingerprints did not match those
on the wrist watch and the doorknob.
So Leach ordered his release. There was
little else the officers could accomplish that
night, so they went off duty. The date was
August 12th, 1933.

Early next morning, Honan and Gegan
met again with Leach, who had received
two new reports. The first, from the bal-
listics bureau, disclosed that the markings
on the lethal slug did not match those of
any gun on file. The second was a reply
from the watch company to Honan’s tele-
graphed inquiry.

The serial number of the wrist watch, the
wire stated, was that of a timepiece sold
in a large lot some years earlier to a mid-
town Manhattan department store.

Honan and Gegan lost no time in get-
ting to the store. In the watch department
there they explained their mission to the
manager, who Teadily agreed to search his
records.

This secures the better Part of an tee?

‘

af mey not find fhe man they Feuer

At last the manager reported to the detec-
tives that he had found the sales slip. “We
sold that watch two years ago,” he said,
“to a customer named Hubert Fisher. Ac-

cording to this slip, his address at that time ~

was a hotel in East 96th Street.”

The officers thanked the manager for
his assistance, hurried out to their car and
sped uptown. At the hotel he named, they
learned from the desk clerk that Fisher
still lived there in a two-room suite on the
eighth floor.

Taking no chances, the detectives drew
their guns as they. emerged from the eleva-
tor on the eighth floor. They walked softly
up to the door of Fisher’s suite and Honan
pressed the buzzer.

In a moment the door swung back, re-
vealing a little bald-headed man wearing
thick-lensed glasses. Seeing their drawn
revolvers, he stepped back quickly as the
officers entered.

“Yes, ’'m Hubert Fisher,” he said with
a thick accent. “What is it you want?”

“Two years ago you bought a wrist watch
from a midtown department store,” Honan
declared. “Where is it now?”

“I do not know,” Fisher edunitted.: “T
was hard pressed for funds about six
months after I bought the watch, and I had
to pawn it. I never bothered to try and

redeem it until after the pledge had ex- -

pired. Then the pawnbroker told me he
had sold the watch at auction. Very stupid
of me.”

Fisher gave the detectives the address

of the pawnshop. While Gegan remained
at the hotel to guard the little man until -

his story was checked, Honan set out for 4

the shop, some ten blocks to the north. —

There the proprietor confirmed Fisher’s ;

story that he had let the pledge expire and

The jury found |

pee ki 3
ee be

ms ’ a
Pee Fe

Wage

+g

the watch had been sold. He consulted 23

his records and came up with the name_
and address of the man who had bought it. :

The purchaser had given an address in
Greenwich Village. This meant more plug-"*

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there was no such address in Greenwich
Village as the one he had given. They
investigated persons of the same name in
other parts of the city, and found that none

‘of them had a criminal record; in fact,

each of them had an unassailable reputa-
tion and was able to account satisfactorily
for his movements on the day of the crime.

NEXT morning the detectives reported
to Commissioner Leach that their in-
vestigation was at a dead end. Sitting in
Leach’s office were Stella Saskowitz and her
brother, Harry, who had taken charge of
his father’s business. The deputy com-
missioner had questioned them further in
an effort to develop some new angle on
which to continue the investigation, but
his attempts had been unavailing.
“Your father was the victim of a cold-
blooded killer,” Leach told the son and
daughter, “and it’s a pity we can’t bring
him to justice immediately. But I’m con-
fident that eventually we'll capture him.
The murderer, whoever he is, may ‘gloat

temporarily over the assumption that he~

had committed a ‘perfect’ crime. But one
day, by his very overconfidence, he will
betray himself. Mark my words!”

On the following day, Leach received
reports from the identification divisions of
the State Police and the FBI. The finger-
prints on the wrist watch and doorknob
checked with none in the files of either
agency, dashing his last hope for a lead.

DURING the months that followed, other

more pressing cases occupied the time
of the investigators. But never for a mo-
ment did they lose interest in the Saskowitz
murder nor fail to examine every clue,
however slight, which might put them on
the killer’s trail.

The fall and winter passed, and spring
gave way to. summer. Stella and Harry
Saskowitz had begun to despair of ever
seeing their father’s murder avenged. Not
so, however, the determined deputy com-
missioner and his detectives.

Throughout the next year, 1934, Honan
and Gegan strove doggedly to crack the
case, working with their best men—De-
tectives William Drake, Charles Ryder,
Richard Manes and James Sweeney. They
returned to the scene of the crime, where
they searched every inch of the area time
and again, questioning over and over the
residents of the neighborhood. They went
back to seeking the man who bought the
wrist. watch. But their efforts were unsuc-
cessful and the killer of the garage owner
remained at large.

Almost two years had passed since the
murder when, on the morning of June
10th, 1935, Harry Saskowitz received an
anonymous letter in the mail which made
his heart skip a beat. With trembling hands
he held up the typewritten sheet and read
the text:

“Dear Sir—If you know what is good
for you, you will get $10,000 together in
small bills and leave it at your garage
for me to pick up at 3 P.M. next
Wednesday. Remember what happened
to your father.—The Eye.”

At first Harry Saskowitz thought of
notifying police, but deciding the letter was

only the work of a crank, he ignored it.

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MY SISTER AND I had to wait
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the great drama had passed away. ~

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| APPEAL

i AS 5 TO YOU

Ne! Contd from page 15
¥ 6

motor boat there, so it was a natural.
Irv, Goldie and I were to go out

vacation. We were just to fool around
the first day. The next night, Mr. Lef-
kowitz was to come out secretly and
stay out of sight in the motor boat.
Then we'd fake the drowning, and
Mr. Lefkowitz would get Goldie away
and keep him out of sight a month. It
looked like a good deal, and it sounded
simple.

n August 25, 1927, after my work-
out at the gym, Goldie, Irv and I set
out in Goldie’s Maxwell. It was a hot,
muggy day—really steaming in those
closed-in slum streets—and it seemed
= to be getting away to the country
or any reason.

Understand I’m not sparing myself
on this. I knew I was going out to be a
witness in a fraudulent insurance case,
and I knew that was wrong. But I was
16. I hadn’t stopped to think then too
much about right or wrong. And in-
surance companies seemed at long way.
out of my life—not real, if you know
what I mean, as though getting money
out of them wasn’t taking it from peo-
ple. But I can’t say I didn’t know what
I was doing, because I did. I went,
anyway.

We got to Coney Island at about
7 o'clock, and we horsed around
awhile, having hot dogs and soda at the
stands, taking in some of the rides. We
all felt pretty high—part from excite-
ment, part from just the fun we got
_ from Coney Island. At about 11 or so,
we drove out to the Bay where the boat
was anchored and bedded down for the
night.

Gravesend Bay was a pretty place—
not as built up then as it is now.
few summer homes were along the
shores, and the boathouses were clus-
tered near the pier. The Bay was dotted
with boats, and when we got up in
the morning a lot of them were already
out. Kids were hollering and splashing
along the shore, and some older people
had already come down for a swim.
We got into our swimming suits and
sweaters, and we decided to take the
rowboat out a little while.

Boatride

Irv took the oars. Goldie sat behind
him, and I faced the two of them. We
rode out, kidding around, looking for
retty girls, and the thought of the
aud was a long way from my mind.
I didn’t often get out of the city, and
this was a treat for me. We rowed out
about 400 feet—away from the other
boats—and Irv said:
“Come on Goldie, you row from
here on. Change places with me.”
Goldie said sure, and he started
edging into place to take the oars. He

there, as if we were taking a little |

got beside Irv, and suddenly, without
any warning, Irv gave him a shove.
Goldie hit
thrashing. And I thought it was a joke.
I thought Irv just shoved him over-
board, the way kids might, horsing
around. I saw Goldie come up and he
yelled “Help!” I doubled over laughing,
thinking that he was fooling, too. Then
Irv began to row. And all of a sudden
it wasn’t funny. I knew all at once
that Goldie couldn’t swim. It was like
hot lead landed in my stomach, and I
could feel my hands go wet with sweat.
I was half standing up now, clawing
at the bottom of the boat to get the rope
I knew was there.

“Hold it, Irv!” I yelled. “Goldie
can’t swim!”

I tossed out the rope, and I saw
Goldie floundering there, trying to reach
it. It had fallen short, and I was half
crying when I pulled it in to throw
again. I started to shout, standing up
in the boat, shouting for help, not hear-
ing anything Irv said, only seeing Goldie
there trying to keep afloat. I screamed
as loud as I could:

“Help! Man overboard! Help!”

I started to throw the rope again.
But Irv’s voice cut through to me:

“Harry!”

I looked, and I was staring straight
at the business end of a revolver Irv
was pointing at me. His face was hard
and mean. I could feel my throat go

‘dry, and it felt as thou th somebody’d

put a piece of ice at the top of my
spine. I couldn’t move.
“Sit down!” Irv said, and his voice

was ugly. “Sit down and shut up!”
Didn’t get it

I didn’t get it. Maybe it was shock.
Maybe it was something crazy, but even
looking at that gun, I didn’t get it. I
yelled again. I saw a man oaring u
fast, saw him make a swipe for Goldie's
hair—and miss by inches. I saw Goldie
go down. I heard Irv say:

“This is no joke, Harry! Sit down
and listen. This is the way it is!”

And I knew he meant it. I felt
stunned. I sagged down to: the seat,
and Harry was rowing toward shore
fast, the gun tucked in his swimming
trunks with his sweater covering it.
There was a look on his face I'd never
seen on anybody's face before.

“Try!” I said. “What is it, Irv?”

“An accident,” he said shortly.
“That’s what you saw, an accident.
Don’t forget that. We tried to save him
—damn hard, we tried. We couldn't
make it. That’s all.”

I huddled down in the boat, trying
to get my mind straight, trying to realize
that my best friend was dead. That
there hadn’t been any fake drowning—
only a real one. And I just couldn’t
believe it.

I just couldn’t believe that Joe Lef-
kowitz had planned it this way. I
couldn’t even really believe Irv had
pushed Goldie, meaning to. These
were guys I knew, friends of mine, and
I couldn’t believe.

Irv ordered me off at the motor boat,
and told me that if anybody came
around all I should say was it had

e water hard, and began.

- You see what

been an accident. He rowed on to
shore to make his report, and I stum-
bled into the cabin to change my
clothes. I was scared. I was scared of
what had happened. And I was worse
scared of what I’d seen in Irving's face.

Irv came back to the boat in about
an hour. “It’s all right,” he said,
shortly. “I told them he fell. I said
we dived trying to save him. I said
we couldn’t. It was an accident.”

I didn’t say anything. I just sat there,
feeling numb. Irv went into the cabin
and dressed. When he came out he
said:

“Get your stuff. We're leaving.”

I obeyed. Nobody had come to ques-
tion me. None of the policemen on
shore asked for my story. Nobody tried
to stop us. We went up and got a taxi
and headed home. Irv just sat staring
straight ahead, and there was a tight
line to his jaw and a hard cold look in
his eyes. Once he said, flat and mean:

Just keep quiet

“Keep the mouth shut. You'll be
taken care of.” ‘

He let me out at my house, and I
could feel his eyes watching me as I
went up the steps. I felt sick at my
stomach. Mama was home, and all of
a sudden I was blurting the whole story
out to her. She couldn't believe it.
She thought I was excited—upset by
the accident—making a mistake. Then
she started to cry.

“You shouldn’t have gone,” she said.
“I never wanted you to go with boys
that stay aerey from home all night.

appens?”

I went to my room and shut the door.
I just sat there. Mama called me to
dinner, but I couldn’t eat. At about
8 p.m., Lefkowitz and Rubinzah] drove
up to the house and sent a street kid
in for me. I didn’t want to go. But I
was scared not to.

Rubinzahl was standing by the car
when I came out, one Pek in his
pocket. I felt a sinking feeling in my
stomach, and it was hard to go past
him and climb into the front seat beside
Mr. Lefkowitz. Irv got in the back, and
I wanted to turn around so I could see
him. But I didn’t. I tried not to show
that I was scared.

Mr. Lefkowitz began to talk. His
voice sounded calm and easy, and he
talked on about the accident, about what
a shame it was something had gone
wrong, and how we were all sorry about
Goldie.

There were a lot of words, smooth
and quiet, like they might be if every-
thing he said were the whole seweh:
Somehow I began to feel better. I be-
gan to-think maybe it had been an
accident. Maybe 1 thought that because
I wanted to—because I didn’t want to
know the truth. Then, after awhile,
Lefkowitz said:

“Now then, Harry, tomorrow we're
going to see my lawyer. There’s no
way we can bring Goldie back now, and
we don’t want a lot of needless trouble,
do we? All you have to do is say it was
an accident. You'll do that, won't
you?”

I should have said no. I should have

PLUG IN
ANY
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OUTLET

TRY IT FI
GET NEW
BUY FROW

NO FEELING
faction you {
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get. Complete
ANTEE in »
weight vibrat:
Laboratory .
colors. SAV
FROM FACT'

FREE

BOOKLE

ied to

if. Lefkowitz.
time I think.
ime together.
d with them.
as the richest

n taking my
something. I
inaries of the
a real beating.
‘urt until that
ick. Mr. Lef-
, and he said

f thing to try
up a stumble-
ut there didn’t
: fellow. Mr.
iinking it over,

with me? I'll

d very eager.

save him. We tried damn hard to save him!"

take care of you. You know I always take care of my boys.”

I felt real proud. Being in with Mr. Lefkowitz was more
than I'd ever dreamed of. I told him I sure would like that,
and asked what I could do for him. He just patted me on
the shoulder and said I should leave that to him. He'd think
it over. . r

About three days later, I went back to the gym to work
out. Goldie was already there, and Irv Rubinzahl and Mr.
Lefkowitz came in. They waited until I was finished, and
then we all piled into Mr. Lefkowitz’s Essex and drove around
for awhile. Finally we parked on Avenue A. We sat there,
taking it easy, talking about boxing and how tough it was
to make a dollar because clubs weren't sponsoring many bouts.
Then Goldie and Mr. Lefkowitz began talking business.
Finally Goldie said, casually:

“Joe, why don’t we use Harry and Irv here as witnesses
in that insurance fraud?”

Mr. Lefkowitz sort of looked at us, like he was sizing us
up. I saw the spark of interest in Irv’s eyes, and I swaggered
a little trying to show that I was big enough to be in with

them.
“What’s the deal?” I said, trying not to seem anxious.

Rubinzah!. told: all, auhet himself from the chair.

Mr. Lefkowitz grinned. Then he got serious. He kept. his
eyes right on me as he talked, as though it was me he counted
on and didn’t care too much one way or the other about Irv.

“It’s like this, Harry,” he said. “Things are a little tight
right now, and Goldie and I have an idea. He’s got a little
life insurance policy on him—about $1000—and we plan
to stage a phony drowning. There’ll be a report that Goldie
was lost in an accident. He'll slip out of sight then. We col-
lect the insurance—the policy’s in my favor. And everybody’s
taken care of. When it’s all over, Goldie comes back.”

Lefkowitz said the plan was okay, because you didn’t have
to have a corpus delecti to collect insurance. If the body
wasn’t found in a month, you got your money.

Goldie seemed all for it, and there was no question about
Irv. He was in trouble. He was going with a very beautiful
girl at the time, and he’d got her pregnant. He was desperate
for money to take care of her. Maybe I had a few doubts
about it all, but I didn’t want them to think I was chicken.
I said sure, I'd go along.

We met and talked things over several times, getting the
plan set. It was to be at Gravesend Bay near Coney Island.
Goldie and Mr. Lefkowitz had a (Continued on page 62)

Samuel Leibowitz: The Master’s ‘first murder. case.

Ne


said no right then and there. and taken
my chances. But I could feel Rubin-
zahl watching me from_the back seat,
and when I hesitated he leaned for-
ward slowly. I remembered Goldie. I
remembered the gun. I nodded my
head. Lefkowitz clapped me on the
back. “That’s fine, Harry,” he said
heartily. “I knew I could count on you.
Don’t worry, you'll be taken care of.”

A new suit

I nodded again. “Now come on,” he

said. “I want you to look neat. tomor-
row. We're going over and pick you,

out a good suit to wear. This is on me,”
He reached down to turn on the igni-
tion, and then he paused and looked
at me.

“Remember, Harry. It was an ac-

cident. Goldie went for a swim. He.

got a cramp. You couldn't save him.”

I got the suit—$27.50, that’s what
it cost. And the next day I went with
them to the lawyers and made the
statement. Then I went home and I
stayed there, wishing I never had to go
out again.

Three days later at 4 o'clock in the
morning, two detectives came to the
house to get me. I can remember how
awkward [ was getting dressed. I can
remember Mama crying. I remember
the detectives waiting silently. They
put me in the patrol car—and Rubin-
zahl was there. When I saw his face
I was cold—cold on a hot night in
August, more scared of him than what
might lie ahead.

At the detective bureau they ques-
tioned us separately, in a plain, bare
office one flight up. Two detectives,
asked the same questions over and over,
trying to trip me. I answered over and
over, sticking to my story, feeling the
harsh light beating in my eyes, know-
ing the back of my shirt was wet with
sweat. It went on five hours.

“Why would I kill him?” I shouted.
“Why would I kill my friend?”

“For $70,000 insurance, double in-
demnity,” one detective said, flatly.

I felt as though I'd been hit between
the eyes. Not $1000 like I’d been told
—but $140,000! And I guess that’s
the first time I really accepted that
murder had been done.

At 9 o'clock in the morning, they

‘took me to the Brooklyn District At-

torney’s office. Lefkowitz was there,
and his face looked gray. They brought
Rubinzahl in. He stood across the
room from us, stood there sort of cool,
watching Mr. Lefkowitz.

“t killed Benjamin Goldstein,” he
said, and the words were almost lazy.
“T killed him on instructions from Jos-
eph Lefkowitz.”

Cops lesser plea

Rubinzahl, who'd been going to
share $140,000, had copped a lesser
plea and turned state’s witness. .

They booked us then, down at the
Brooklyn police station, photographed
us, fingerprinted us. Mr. Lefkowitz
asked if we could have some food sent
in. There was a big detective there,
about 200 pounds, five-feet-eleven. He

turned around and spoke just to me.

“You want some, kid?”

“Yes,” I said.

He hit me in the face. “You're sup-
posed to be a fighter. Let’s see. how

ood you are.” He kicked me, and I
fell to the floor doubled over in pain.
He kicked me again and again, until
I passed out. I came to the next day
in King’s County Hospital. There was
a nurse there holding orange juice. A
cop was by the bed. I loo ed at him.

“You've been charged with first-de-
gree murder,” he said.

It was the end of the world.

Two days later, when I was able to
leave the hospital, I was taken to Ray-
mond Street jail. I was scared and sick
and miserable, arid I cried in my cell.
I kept thinking that somehow they were

oing to let me go home, but it wasn't
ike that.

I was in the place four-and-a-half
months. The court appointed a lawyer
for me, and he wanted me to turn state’s
evidence and cop a lesser plea, like
Irving had. I wouldn’t. I hadn't killed
Goldie, and I wasn’t going to say I had,

-even if I went to the chair for it.

asked the County Judge to let me pick
another lawyer, one who believed in
me. And he did. They gave me three
lawyers to pick from, and I chose now-
famous Samuel Leibowitz. It was his
first murder case.

The trial began December 2, 1927,
and it lasted two-and-a-half weeks. I
told my story. Rubinzahl and Lefko-
witz admitted that I hadn't known
about the high insurance or about their
murder plot. There were witnesses who
testified that I had shouted for help and
had tried to get someone to rescue
Goldie. That helped. But I sat there
in the courtroom, seeing my mother
crying in the back of the room, not
knowing what was ahead for me. It
seemed the longest hours of my life
when the jury was out. And when they
came in, time stood still. I listened to
the verdicts:

Rubinzahl was given 20 years to life »

for turning state’s evidence.

Joseph Lefkowitz—sentenced to die
January 9. .

Harry Greenberg—not guilty.

A free man

I walked out of the court that day
feeling like I’d been born again. I was
just 17, and I was free and clear.

here was a new life ahead of me, and
I felt like all the trouble I could ever
have was over. But I found out some-
thing.

I found out that even though I'd
been judged innocent by a jury, I
wasn’t free. I found out there were a
lot of jobs I couldn’t get because I'd
been charged with murder. I found out
a lot of people would always look at
me suspiciously. They remembered the
charge. They didn't remember the
verdict.

I wanted one thing—to go straight.
I wanted to show that I’d learned right
from wrong—even in little things. I
kept straight all the way. There were
times when I was hungry, and times
when I was broke. I had to watch my

mother go to a charity hospital, because
I couldn't pay for private care. When
she died I couldn’t buy a stone for her
grave, and I was her only son. I waited
years to marry, because I wanted my
wife to know that my record was.going
to siay clean, be one she could be
proud of.

I am married now. I am a family
man, and my wife is a wonderful
woman. All I want is to provide her
cand our child with a good home, with
the security of steady work.

And it’s because I do want steady,
decent work that I applic@ to the Hack
Bureau for a license to drive a cab. |
was turned down. I was ruled an un-
fit person to drive a hack. Twenty-nine
toa ago a jury found me innocent—

ut an official of the Police Department,
basing his conclusions on a report, said
that I was actually guilty. That I must
have known about,the insurance. That
I didn’t shout for help until too late,
and-then only to make it look like an
accident. That’s what they put in the
report turned in on me—ajter 4 jury
had found me innocent. :

I appealed the decision. My case
was heard in the Supreme Court of
New York City. There Justice Cox
granted me a license, saying ‘that the
official’s decision had been capricious
and arbitrary. But the case was taken
to the Appelate Court, and it was ruled
that although the court had sympathy
with me, the granting of a hack license
was a discretionary matter, and_the
final decision should lie with the police.
I got no license.

For 29 years I have been a good
citizen. For 29 years I have tried to
wipe out any mistakes I made as a boy.
For 29 years I have lived an honest,
decent life. But still I am called “un-
fit.””

Some people even call me “unsatis-
fied.” Why all the fuss about a hack
license, they ask. You've managed to
get work during all these years, they
say—you've worked as a bartender and
with the Post Office and as a messenger
and shipping room clerk and as a chauf-
feur. Why do you have to be a hackie
now?

The fact is, simply, that I want to
be a hackie—that I feel I can do this
work best and that I feel it’s my priv-
ilege as an honest, decent American
citizen to be able to do the job I feel
most capable and most contented to be
doing.

Now I am appealing my case. A fine
lawyer, Seymour Detsky of New York,
heard my story, and offered his services.
He feels I didn’t get a fair shake. The
money from this story will help pay
some of the expenses incurred in this
last chance to win my license. And I
want that, because I feel driving a cab
is the best way I can make a living for
my family. But I want something else,
too. When I was 16 a jury of my peers
found me innocent of a crime I did not
commit. I have tried since then to live
a good life. And now, at 45, I'd like
you, my fellow citizens to know and
judge me as a man. I have faith in
their judgment. I offer the record—
and I ask nothing more than that you
judge by it. 1.

THE MAC



nthe New
te travelers
ght. From
- out at the
ill of early
commuters.
snappy blue
s he started
n who com-

nd two men

irled.

wo men and
ch the empty
urned a cor-
| from view.
» suddenness
Jap, a shot

DARING

Y
t

The late home-goers ran to the foot of the stairs and found
the two men had disappeared. The victim, ghastly pale, held
one hand to his back. With the other he was grasping the rail-
ing and painfully dragging himself downstairs. But his pain
had not dulled his anger.

They helped him into the station. For the men who were
helping him, jt wasn’t a time to ask questions and he was so
furious that he was almost incoherent.

They found a chair for him. Anxious to learn the extent
of his wound, they pulled off his overcoat, suit coat and shirt.
There was an ugly bullet wound in his back. The bullet had
gone almost completely through his body. They could see it
lodged under the skin of his abdomen.

One of the travelers called the police and in a few moments
a squad car raced to the station. On the way to Lincoln hospital
the officers tried to question the wounded man.

“[}1 take care of your questions later.” he groaned.

“What's your name? :

“And that’s none of your business hig

A bullet that tears through the abdomen doesn’t leave a man
much chance for life. The police realized that agonizing pain
was clutching at his vitals, bringing great beads of perspiration
to his brow and making his hands clutch spasmodically, but they
needed information from him.

DETECTIVE

» to write down the list of his belongings. The internes tried

ing room he was equally recalcitrant.

But in the hospital receiv
to put on his hospital garb and began

They took off his clothes

to remove a big diamond ring he wore on his left hand.

“No!” he screamed. ,

The diamond was a three and a half carat stone. The nurses
tried to argue with him, telling him it would be safer in the vault
in the hospital office, but he wouldn’t part with the ring.

Physicians ordered an immediate operation. So, as he cursed
about the ring, they started to roll him into the operating room.
Suddenly he tried to raise himself from the stretcher.

“My pearl tie pin!” he gasped. “Where’s my pearl tie pin?”

Haltingly he gave them a description of the pin. It was a big
pearl set in a golden claw, 4 design he had planned himself.

Eva Patrick, nurse in charge of the admitting ward, checked
his belongings.

“There’s no pin here,” she said finally,” and I know you did
not have it when you came in.’

But the old man insisted that he had.

“You're a lot of thieves,” he groaned. “T had that pin when

I came in. I remember seeing it. I want my pin.”

They could not let the suffering man remain longer without

attention. Disregarding his rage, they wheeled him into the

operating room,
47

© res


76

in City Hospital, on Welfare Island,
New York, a wan young girl lay dying of
lobar pneumonia. In her last moments,
she called a nurse to her side.

“Tl want you to give a message to my
husband,” she said. “Tell him,” she con-
tinued weakly, “that | love him. Tell him
that my last prayer was that they would
not take his life; that he would be spared
execution.”

When, in a spell of coughing, she had
died, hospital attaches puzzled over her
words. She was listed on their records
as Mrs. Helen Supple. No man named
Supple was condemned to die in New
York State.

it was when her father came to claim
her body, that they learned the truth. She
had entered the hospital under her father’s
name, She had dreaded the publicity that
her right name—Mrs. Helen Leonard—
would bring both to her and her baby.

In the death house, at Sing Sing, John
Leonard received his dead wife’s farewell
message; heard of her prayers that he,
facing execution within a week, be spared.
Petitions were being prepared. A move
was under way to save him.

A family conference was held, and dur-
ing that conference Louise reminded her
father he had given her and Mary iden-
tical diamonds, at one time. Louise added
that she and Mary had made a pact,
whereby the survivor of the two was to
be given the other's diamond.

“Where is the diamond?” asked Old
David.

“1 don't know,” answered Louise. “I
looked for it on her left hand. She al-
ways wore it on the third finger of that
hand. But it was not there. I didn’t care
to mention it at the time.”

“V’l] ask Fred about it,” said Mr. Dye.
He did so, advising him of the pact made
by the two sisters. Asked if he knew
anything about the ring, Mr. Price said:

“OH: that ring! Here it is, but the dia-
mond is missing. The stone must
have been torn loose from its setting when
she fell off the cliff.”

Then he exhibited an empty ring to
Mr. Dye, with one of the prongs badly
bent.

“I don’t see how this prong could have
been bent so out of shape, by a fall down
the cliff,’ said Dye.

“Nevertheless, that is what happened.
It was knocked out of the setting when
she fell. Suppose we go back there and
hunt? Maybe we can find the stone,”
replied Price.

Mr. Dye agreed. Together they _ re-
turned to the scene of the accident. To-
gether they searched. After about twen-
ty minutes’ hunting, Mr. Dye found the
missing diamond under a large stone,
about two feet from where Mary’s body
was found.

“Here it is!” Mr. Dye exclaimed, offer-
ing it to Mr. Price.

“Oh, no!” answered Price, “as long as
it was May’s wish that it go to Louise, you
keep it and give it to her.” ;

So Mr. Dye gave the empty ring and
the diamond to his wife, Louise, and that
would have been an end of the matter,
were it not for the incident of the gloves;
the gloves which Mary Fridley Price had
worn on the day she was killed.

When Mary Price had been brought to
the hospital; dead, the authorities re-
moved her clothes and put them away un-
til called for by relatives. They included
a pair of gloves. When Louise heard her

Master Detective

It was futile. On the evening of. Fri-
day, January 23rd, 1925, John Thomas
Leonard was strapped in Sing Sing’s chair
and electrocuted.

Mrs. Dolge, widow of the murdered
man, sued the Commercial and Casualty
Insurance Company when it refused to
pay a policy held by her husband on the
grounds that he was murdered on a pub-
lic highway and not when a passenger on
a public conveyance.

rs. Dolge’s legal representatives set
forth in an affidavit the facts that her
husband had started for his home, bad bad

his railroad ticket punched and was pre-°

pared to board a train.

The Courts decided that Dolge was
travelling at the time of his death, and
ordered the company to pay $8,000 to the
widow,

The case was closed, now, except for the
escaped John Dalton, blond bouncer, Six-
foot driver of the stolen Packard on the
night of the murder. Circulars were is-
sued, but he seemed to have dropped com-
pletely out of sight. A country-wide search
brought no results.

Then, one day, John Dalton, last of the

The Crime on the Cliff

(Continued from page 53)

brother-in-law’s explanation of how the
diamond came to be missing from the
ring, she recalled that November 28th
was a cold day and her sister must have
had her gloves on when she fell off the
cliff. She examined them carefully.

“Look, father!” she said, holding out
the gloves to Old: David.

Her father took the gloves and ex-
amined them. .

“Mary always wore that ring on her
left hand, on the third finger,” said Louise.
“It is the third finger of the right-hand
glove which has been torn. How could
the stone have fallen out of its setting
when she was wearing that glove on her
left hand?”

“That is peculiar,” said Old David. Then
he recalled that the clothing Mary had
worn the day of the accident, had not
been torn in any way. That also was
strange. It seemed inconceivable that
she could have tumbled down that jagged,
stony cliff without having torn her cloth-
ing to shreds.

“William!” said Old David, to his son-
in-law. “Suppose you ask Fred Price
about these gloves. Ask him how it hap-
pened the right-hand glove was torn, and
the left-hand glove, which covered the
finger where Mary wore her diamond, was
not? See what he says.”

“V1 do it,” said William.

When William Dye put the question to
his brother-in-law, the latter seemed at
a loss for an answer. Dye persisted and
Price became indignant.

“If you people are going to try to make
trouble for me over a pair of gloves...
I'll burn them up.” With that he tried
to snatch the gloves away from Dye.

“No, you don’t!” said Dye. “VIL save
these for future reference.” He put the
gloves back in his pocket and reported all
this to Old David.

When Old David heard this news, he
decided to find out all he could about his
deceased daughter’s husband. He had
never liked the man very much. He knew
Price called him “Stingy Old Dave.”
Stingy, was he? Hadn't he given his daugh-
ter property? Some $10, in bonds a
few days before her death? Still, most
sons-in-law were like that. ;

The upshot of it was that Old David
employed private detective John P. Hoy,
of Minneapolis, to find out all he could

murdering quartette, was brought back to
the Bronx. He was brought back dead,
his huge frame encased in a pine box.

He had fled to Kansas City, where he

‘ became a member of the Police Depart-

ment. Later, he joined the county forces
in Kansas, working as a deputy sheriff.

Again he moved on, this time to San
Francisco. He became, successively, rum
runner and hijacker. His own willingness
to doublecross his associates put him in
bad favor with the gangsters of “rum
row” on the West Coast and he gravitated
naturally to his original employment. He
became a bouncer in a Pacific Coast house
of ill repute.

ONE night a visitor came, who, though
not drunk, started a disturbance. John
Dalton hurriedly appeared. That seemed
to be what the stranger desired, for he
immediately discontinued his disturbance,
whipped a gun from his pocket and emp-
tied it into the six-foot bouncer. Then
casually he took his leave. The under-
world of San Francisco had written the
closing chapter in the Dolge murder mys-
tery for the New York Police Department.

about Frederick T. Price.

“Get me everything you can about
Price,” he ordered Hoy. .The detective
made an investigation. After several
weeks he offered the following report to
his employer: :

Subject, Frederick T. Price, is

thirty-seven years old. Has been en-
gaged in various lines of employment.
Was a travelling salesman in several
different lines, recently in scales and
weighing devices. One time ran a col-
lection agency. At present engaged
in _ stock, and promoting a fuel-
saving device which does not appear
successful. At an early age was con-
victed of assault in Wisconsin, his
victim being a young married woman.
Has been twice married. His first mar-
riage was to one Rosa Smith whom he
apparently met while he was playing
a trombone in a Salvation Army band.
She was a member of the same band.
He was divorced from this Salvation
Army lass, and thereafter married
one Grace Swartz, who was the daugh-
ter of a minister. They were divorced.
A few days after the death of Mary
Fridley Price, subject endeavored to
draw some money from one of Her ac-
counts, but the teller refused to give
it to him without his exhibiting au-
thority of Probate Court. Subject
applied for letters of administration
and was duly appointed administrator
of Mary Fridley Price’s estate. She
left no will and he is sole heir. The
night following death of his wife, sub-
ject went to the room of his business
associate, Charles D. Etchison, in the
Vendome Hotel, in Minneapolis, and
remained there all night. Subject
and Etchison appear to be close friends.
For some time subject has been car-
rying on a clandestine affair with a
young and attractive girl who former-
ly worked for William H. Dye. This
affair was going on during the life of
Mary Fridley Price. They were very
intimate. Three weeks after the death
of his wife, subject was living with
this girl, as man and wife, at the Har-
vard Chambers in Minneapolis. Later
at the Camfield Hotel in that city. He
is with her frequently now, and has
introduced her to his friends as his
future - wife.

|
|

ee '
i

March, 1937

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Cd 9

York, Boston and Westchester railroad half a dozen late travelers
watched the hands of the station clock creep past midnight. From
time to time one of them would rise impatiently and gaze out at the
station platform. Even within the waiting room the chill of early
January, 1924, stung the faces and hands of the drowsy commuters.
Down the stairs puffed a ruddy-faced, genial man with snappy blue
eyes and gray hair. Everyone watched him curiously as he started
to look for his commutation ticket. He was the kind of man who com-
mands instant attention.
There was the sound of running feet on the stairway and two men
burst into the waiting room.
“What’s the idea of gypping the taxi driver?” they snarled.
The older man had a temper.
“What do you mean ?” he said, clenching his fists.
“The driver wants his fare!”
“Let me see him.”
Red with rage, he strode across the station with the two men and
started to mount the stairs, His angry voice rang through the empty
corridor as he turned a cor-
Conducting an intensive investigation "er and passed from view.
of the brutal murder, Police Inspector Then, with the suddenness
Henry .Bruckman, left, succeeded in of a thunderclap, a_ shot
trapping the murderous quartet. rang out.

I N THE icy waiting room at the Hunt’s Point station on the New

DARING

The late
the two m:
one hand t:
ing and pa
had not du
They hx
helping hi:
furious th:
They fo
of his wou
There w
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were many. He’d been known to donate whole cases of champagne
for parties in the neighborhood.

Ordinarily he was jovial, but his quick temper had sometimes
placed him in minor difficulties. Few persons, however, had a word
of censure for him.

Someone remembered that he had been at a party a short time
before the shooting. He had donated the champagne for that one,
too, and he had become interested in a young woman, Her bo
friend had become angry and Dolge had left the party with a blac

eye.

D ETECTIVES began a search for the young woman. Asa first
step they began a check on names of all the women in the
little black book and they summoned his wife, Mrs. Marie C. Dolge.

She was a stunning looking woman, gray-haired, quiet and
beautifully dressed. The officers did not tell her immediately that
he could not live. She flung her arms over him and begged him
to reveal the names of the men who had shot him,

“IT can take care of myself!” was his only answer.

Down in the offices of the hospital the police questioned her.
The pin, she said, was his favorite piece of jewelry. He had bought
it in Maiden Lane and ordered the claw part made according to
his own fancy. At the conclusion of the questioning she returned
to her husband's bedside.

Shortly after noon that day, January 5, 1924, Dolge died, He had
given the police no information about his assailants. The last words
he said to his wife were to exact a promise that she woultl keep up
the search for the tie pin.

As this was happening other of-
ficers and detectives had been busy
at the Hunt’s Point station interro-
gating the station master and the half
dozen men who had been present at
the time of the shooting.

The descriptions these rsons

[Continued on page s7). Mad
Mar:
smo'

_ As he went under the ether he was still ca
tie pin.
The operation was uzsuccessful, His intestiné®
torn that there was no hope for him. The surgeon
| life was a matter of only a few hours. ,
| While the doctors worked desperately, reporters, Captain Henry
Bruckman in charge of the homicide squad and Detectives Bill
Stetter and William Voss arrived at the hospital. When all pos-
sible medical aid had been given a reporter looked at the dying man,
“Say, 1 know who he is! That’s Edward H. Dolge. He has a lot
of dough. He lives in a big house on Hill Crest road in Mount
Vernon.”

Still fighting mad, Dolge came out of the ether. The detectives
| pressed him, as much as they could under the circumstances, for
k a description of his assailants.

“I don’t want anything to do with the police!” he protested. “T’ll
take care of those fellows when I get out of here.”

Al
lur
Oa

Then, again, he demanded his tie pin, threatened the hospital ciliation |
i with a suit if he didn’t get the pin and raged as long as a bit of Then,
HW . strength remained in him. be delive
Detectives went over the belongings checked at the hospital. the come
The initials in his hat were E. H. D, as were those on his wallet. half nud:
He hadn’t much money in it and carried no letters or papers Fourt« |
disclosing his name, but in a vest pocket police discovered a little house. |} |
black book filled with the names of women. the mout
The little black book wasn’t “in character” detectives discovered “T kill |
when they questioned his neighbors. Everyone in his section of only rea
| Mt. Vernon knew him and the majority of them liked him. He I knew
{| was a “home man” though he was one of the most sociable. The my reas:
| pretentious home on Hill Crest Road was a place of lavish enter- He a
tainment where champagne flowed like water and dinner parties she “\ife
own life

48


minute with a paper and shows it to
he rest of them. Then they all beat it.”
ie threw up his hands. “That’s all I
now.”

“What time did they leave?” Sweeney
napped,

“About an hour ago.”

“We'll get to work on this. Meg chick,”
xilmartin said determinedly. “There must
: some way to get a lead on a‘gal like
hat.”

It was wearisom work, combing the
iles of the New York City Police records,
voking for a girl of vague description,
nown only as Meg. But the work had
“s reward, :

It was Sweeney who finally found her
ard. “Here it is,” he grinned. He slapped
is fellow detective on the shoulder.
Meg Canoni. Eighteen, Lives ‘on Twelfth
street. Booked on a vagrancy charge in
941. Sometimes hangs out in a bar on
‘curteenth Street.”

“Send out and have her picked up,”
rilmartin said. “Now we're getting some-
‘here.”

Meg proved less. helpful than the de-
sctives anticipated.

“Sure I know Kelly Lew,” she admit-
-d. “Know him for a long time:”

“Do you know his buddy, too?” Gil
iartin asked. . ‘
The girl shrugged her shoulders in her
zht dress. f
“He hangs around with a guy named
ock. That’s all I know. Fook. He hangs
ound with him sometimes.” She smiled.
Vhen he ain’t with me.”

“And where is Kelly Lew now?” Gil-
irtin asked softly.

The girl’s face assumed a blank look.
‘ow? Gee, I don’t know, I ain’t seen
n for a coupla weeks. We—we had a
tle fight. Sorta.”

Sweeney winked at Gilmartin over the
‘l’s head.

“Well, Bill, if the young lady says
e hasn’t seen him, then I guess she
sn’t seen Kim.”

Gilmartin nodded. “Okay. You can go,
eg. I’m sorry we bothered you. And if
u hear anything about either of the
ys, youll let us know, won’t you?”
The girl stood up. She straightened her
ess and patted her hair. She smiled at
martin.

“Sure.” :

She walked to the door and opened it.
« looked back over her shoulder. ‘‘Sure.

i let you know.”

The door closed behind her. Gilmartin
bbed his phone and spoke into it soft-

‘Put a tail on that girl,” he ordered.
he one just leaving my office.”
Sweeney sighed and sat down. “She'll
d us to her boy friend. It may take
ve, but I'll bet she will.”

‘EVERAL months went by before an-
} F
other break came in the Jasey case.

Meg went back to her usual haunts. She
was watched constantly, but she was nev-
er known to contact either of the missing
murder suspects.

On the afternoon of June 6th, Gilmar-
tin was thumbing through the case rec-
ords.

“TI sure wish we’d get a lead on these
boys,” he told Sweeney. “I don’t like
to leave them running around thinking
they got away with it.”

Sweeney sighed. He picked up a lab
report. “We've got a beautiful set of
prints on one of them. It’s off a glass
from the hotel room. Classification can’t
find a duplicate. Neither of those two
had a record. If only they would get
fingerprinted someplace. Looking for.a
job or something.”

“Say!” Gilmartin sat up suddenly. “We
may be missing out on something there.
Suppose on of those kids joined the army.
It would be a perfect place to hide out.”

Sweeney frowned. “I thought of that.
But there aren’t many Chinese boys in
the armed forces. At least not compared
to other groups. I don’t know whether
they would figure it as a safe hiding
place or not.”

Gilmartin’s eyes were thoughtful. “Lis-
ten, it’s worth a try. I’m going to send
those prints in. We can’t afford to over-
look anything.”

Within two days, the detectives re-
ceived a teletype from Washington iden-
tifying the prints as belonging to one
Howard Chin, Private in the U. S. Army,
who had volunteered for service in Nor-
folk, Virginia.

Sweeney took a train to South Caro-
lina, where the boy was undergoing basic
training. He returned with a signed state-
ment, and with the young army private
himself,

“He’s Kelly Lew, all right,” Sweeney
told his anxious partner. “And he admits
he was there-in the hotel that night.
But he says he didn’t see any woman.
Insists he and his friend never came back
after they went out for coffee.”

“Then why was he hiding out?” Gil-
martin demanded.

“Scared. He read about it in the. pa-
pers and figured he’d be blamed.”

Gilmartin sighed. “Well, we haven’t got
any other evidence yet, and that Oriental
stoicism is tough to break down. I guess
we'll just hold him for a while on sus-
picion. The army will have to loan him
to us for longer than they figured.”

Within four days after picking up Kelly
Lew, the detectives received a phone call
from the plainclothes man who was
shadowing the girl Meg. .

“Ym up at 110th and 3rd Avenue,” he
told them. “In the drug store on the
corner. Better get up here fast.”

The detectives ran to their car and
drove quickly to. the address mentioned.
They left the car a block away and walk-
ed into the store. The other detective

Event important discovery relating
to mind power, sound thinking and
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Much has been written about the wise
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their secrets of personal power and suc-
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Knowledge of nature’s laws, accumulat-
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times the great truths possessed:by the
sages were hidden from unscrupulous
men in high places, but never destroyed.

Why Were Their Secrets
Closely Guarded?

Only recently, as time is measured; not
more than twenty generations ago, less
than 1/100th of 1% of the earth’s
people were thought capable of receiv-
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Fundamental Laws of Nature

Yourhabits, accomplishments and weak-
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What Strange Power:
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indicated a house on the ‘north side of
110th Street.

“She got a phone call in the bar to-
night,” he explained. “She got all excited
and ran out. She took a cab. I followed
her up here. She and some Chinese fel-
low went upstairs. She met him in front
of the house.” ’

The three men waited patiently. Nearly
an hour later, they saw the couple come
out of the house. The detectives closed
in and grabbed the pair of them.

Meg had led them. to Fook.

Half an hour later, the youth was sit-
ting in a chair in headquarters, The two
detectives shot questions at him in rapid
Succession. Suddenly Gilmartin stopped.

“We got your buddy several weeks ago.
He's told us all we need to know.”

The youth leaped to his feet. “T don’t
care what he told you!” he shouted. “I
told Ah Yook not to hit her! I told him
he’d kill her! I didn't want anything
to do with it!”

“You're sure?” persisted the Inspector.
“You're also sure that you’ve never
written her any letters?”

Ali Jhan did not answer the question.
He said instead, “You are a policeman?”

Wilkins nodded. “I am a policeman,
yes.”

Ali Jhan nodded. “I have read in the
papers of the death of this Aziz, the
Mystic. If you have come to me for
information, you have come to the right
place.”

“I am certain I have,” said Wilkins
evenly. “There was a man named Forde
who stole some letters from the hotel
room of Aziz, the Mystic.”

Ali Jhan smiled faintly. “I can tell
you anything you want to know,” he
said. “Will you perhaps step into my
humble parlor? We can talk more pri-
vately there.” .

He moved from behind the counter
and held the dirty curtains apart with
one hand, gestured the Inspector to en-
ter with the other,

Wilkins moved past the Moslem into
a dimly lighted room. An odd smell,
blended of onions and incense, reached
his nostrils. Ali Jhan came into the room
behind him. There was a faint smile on
his dark face. His’ hand reached into
the pocket of his coat. It emerged again
with a thin cord held in it.

He lifted the cord above the Inspec-
tor’s head and dropped it like 2 noose
about his neck, His movements were
quick, but the Inspector was quicker.

Wilkins’ elbow slammed back hard

Gilmartin smiled grimly. “Bring in
Kelly Lew.”

Brought face to face, the youths broke
down. They admitted they had planned
the crime in advance. They were intent
on robbery. Kelly Lew, in his many
visits to the hotel, had conceived the idea
of stealing money from the women who
came into the establishment. Fook. had
agreed to help him.

On December 7, 1943, before Judge
Jonah J. Goldstein, a jury found Lew
York Hing, alias Kelly Lew, and Yun
Tieh Li, alias Lee For, alias F ook, guilty
of murder in the first degree.

They were sentenced to die in the
electric chair at States Prison, in Ossining,
New York, and not long after paid the
extreme penalty.

Note: The names Frank O. Potts, Harris V.
Crane and Meé Canoni are fictitious in order
to conceal the true identities of persons inno-
cently involved in the investigation.

Blood Sacrifice

(Continued from page 9)

into Ali Jhan’s belly. He twisted around
and swung his right fist into the: In-
dian’s jaw. Jhan’s hands’ released the
Strangling cord and he staggered back
against the wall,

Wilkins closed in on him. Ali Jhan
rebounded from the wall and dove at
the policeman in a flying tackle. They
hit the floor together with the Moslem
on top.

Ali Jhan snatched up the cord from
the floor where it had fallen and es-

sayed to drape it once again around |

Wilkins’ neck. Wilkins’ two fists came
into action. drumming against the face
of Ali. Ali .Jhan cursed and spat three
teeth from his mouth,

Wilkins seized Jhan’s neck and twist-,
ed violently. They spun around on the
floor. Now, the Indian was on the bot-
tom. Wilkins pressed his forearm
against Ali Jhan’s windpipe. He put all
his weight on that one arm.

Ali Jhan’s eyes popped in his head.
A strangulated whimper emanated from
his throat. Ali Jhan could not speak.
But his eyes pleaded eloquently for
mercy.

“I want the answers to some ques-
tions,” said Wilkins. “Are you ready
to talk?”

Ali Jhan’s head nodded painfully..

Wilkins helped him up, propped him
on a chair. The Moslem coughed hack-
ingly.

“First,” said Wilkins, ‘“‘you wrote sev-
eral love letters to Marie Levesque.
Bradley Forde took them from her bag,

They
bear y
ing the
“y \
“T will
ist.” H
“T am

WC
call
formed
band |}
at him
hear 1}
“Are
“Wel
“Bec:
come t
murder.
The «
have I
“You
Jhan w

’ planned

over hi
“Tha:

“You c
“T he

kins.

“T do
“Let
“by tell
spired \
You kn
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, cleaned

friend, 7]
same hor
shet poo
left Ted
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Whitehea
night.”
“You s
tinctly,”
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The h.
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with the sun high, it would dissolve, wreath by wreath.

Suddenly Mrs. Anheier’s abstraction ended. There was
something amiss in the picture framed for her by the window.
She moved closer and peered to the left. Her husband’s car
still stood in the back yard beneath the bare, rattling limbs
of the big maple tree.

She wondered how that could be. Arthur had got up,
gone about his usual morning’ routine. By this time he
should be at the plant. Yet his auto was here at the
farmhouse. :

Irene rushed to the door and wrenched it open, the mem-
ory of the explosion she had heard chilling her with fear.
She rounded a coalshed protruding from the back of the
frame, box-shaped dwelling and instantly saw the body out-

ing was sticky with
His lunch pail lay a yard from an outflung hand.

7 New York’s deer hunters were out
in force — and one of

them was gunning for a human target!

wIDOW— ,

Mrs. Irene Anheier discovered her husband's riddled body.

stretched upon the frosty ground, midway between the trunk
of the maple and the car.

It was Arthur Anheier, and he was dead. His work cloth-
blood over the left side of his chest.

Irene rose shakily to her feet and stumbled back to the

house where she phoned the state police in Batavia, seven
miles to the south.

ERGEANTS GEORGE WOOD of the Bureau of Criminal
Identification and John Long of Troop. A from the

Batavia barracks examined the corpse perfunctorily before
the coroner arrived.

“Gunshot wound,” said Wood. (Continued on page 46)

13

m


Jubii LO, OGEVETL wey WOLLS, ae
RENE ANHEIER barely heard the sound, being half
asleep in the warmth of her bed. Then, coming slowly
awake, she wondered whether it had been real or the
jar of a troubled, unremembered dream. Beyond the
drawn shade she saw the dim, gray light of early morning
and knew it was time to get up, even though she wouldn’t
have to get her son ready for school this day after
Thanksgiving.
- She listened for a moment for the noise of movement in

the kitchen and, sensing none, guessed at the cause of the

blast that had rocked her from her. slumber. It must have
been a backfire from Arthur’s car, she figured. The motor

- did that sometimes, particularly on these cold mornings after
the machine had been out all night.

TEC IVE

Mrs. Anheier slid out of bed, dressed and went to the
kitchen. The clock said it was 6:25. The warmth of the
house and the dishes neatly stacked in the sink told her that
her husband had arisen, built up the fire, breakfasted and
gone to his work as a miner at the big gypsum plant near
Oakfield, six miles away.

It was full daylight now on this Friday of November 23,
1951. Through the kitchen window, Irene saw the day would
be bright and clear, a pleasant relief from the dull, rainy
days that had plagued northwestern New York state of late.

She stood a moment, looking out across the gently sloping
valley, dotted with brush and woods, that drifted northward
to the huge Orchard Swamp a mile across the fields and
timber. A thick mist marked the swamp; in an_ hour,

. G —
ith as/7Y , Mg een a

.

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derer, was hansed here boca. thousands of people assmmm

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bled to tke see the execution ly put onl y a fewwere admitted

oo ee mn
to the jail where it took places

AY ta oN
VESTON DATLY NES

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He, too, was plannin

ne

OUR loungers were sprawled on
» ‘d+ the hot sands’ of. ‘Coney ; Island,
.. indistinguishable- from the thousands
, , Swarming around them. One of the:
was a maniof middle age; the others
were boys still in
“mindful of those

~) ., and became the hero’ of the
Fi sig prorld, The year, too, in which’
‘ é Ruth Snyder’and Judd Gray,”
- also made the ‘headlines
_ &cream—-though.they did
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murder, iy fall ove
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THE BRAINS

Steadily Jo-
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Insurance one oe
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. tect the. busl-
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suranc “money three ways, Rnstead

there, hic d “boat,
f four, see?” And he gave them a 7
‘ ee) i a ope oP AR ghey ‘

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ou go back ashore and report about they frequented; it was the thing to be
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ranged. Then I’ll collect the thousand
*y7,and his share of the loot as well. That °
pollaray insurance money.‘ and we'll “it meant not only fraud but murder

‘split four ways, two nundied and fifty di ath deain ts teolible them i)

dollars each, Okay?! 28
a Sharp-faced ‘Irving. «And ‘Lefkowitz, planning to ‘dou-'

inzahl~’and ©? dull = looking) acy
Shorty”. Greenberg. nodded © assent,
‘Benny, Goldstein, who was to do the
“drowning,” moved a few feet. away
‘to hide a smile. He smiled. because he

uS< “mind had
y were" plot
raud,'as three=%
der, too; as hei:

not the fat
only the mis-=
them to their,

4

Es

ay, ‘they wer
contemptu-.

Se
Se

é gand dollars but $140,000, He and Lef-
owitz were to split that sum, paying ,
off Greenberg ‘and. AS ne with a

me |e
eae re a Shorty. those two saps, Bik
nough to save “Benny's a dumb cluck,” he saidin Snyder and ‘
> sort of cruis- ° low tones. “He ain’t coming out of this, Gray! For e
at, and I’ll be you understand. He can’t’ swim more’ hardly. “al
iny goes over, than a few yards—and I ain’t going more at
ving to rescue to pick him up!” than mT ‘! i"
hanging over The two boys stared at him uncom- P \
‘m pretending ceri Lefkowitz hastened on . ay AE
; 0 explain. fi
vier en sane “You put him in the water, and he : Is | |
the rope and_ stays in the water,’’ he said. ae ;
floats “Then we only have eA i
- to split the te 4


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The appointed Wednesday came’ and Lazar, 28, of 247 Rivington Street, Man

passed. and then he received a second let-
ter. Typewritten like the first, this one
warned: : Poe ans

“I am not fooling. Leave the $10,000
in small bills at the garage for my mes-
senger at 3 P.M. tomorrow or you will
get the same medicine as your father.
If the money is there, insert the words
‘Mary, come home’ in the personal col-
umns of tomorrow morning’s Herald-
Tribune.—The Eye.”

Thoroughly alarmed now, Saskowitz
went directly to Brooklyn police head-
quarters. There the two letters were ex-
amined carefully by Commissioner Leach
and Captains Honan and Gegan.

“These don’t look like the work of a
crank to me,” Leach told the victim’s son.
“From long experience, I'd say it was a
real attempt at extortion. The writer is
far too literate and to the point to be a

psychopath. Better do as he says and see ~

what happens.”

Complying with this advice, Harry Sas-
kowitz inserted the requested advertisement
in the Herald Tribune of the following
morning. At Leach’s suggestion, a dummy
package filled with blank paper cut to the
size of the bills was left in the manager’s
office at the garage. Then Honan, Gegan

.and their detectives concealed themselves

nearby in a variety of hiding places.

Shortly after three o’clock that after-
noon, a pimply-faced youth appeared at
the office and asked for a package left
by Mr. Saskowitz. The manager handed
him the bundle without question, and while
the detectives tensely gripped their guns,
the youth took it and darted off down the
Street.

The detectives slipped out of hiding and
followed him. The silent pursuit led on
for many blocks until the youth and his
shadowers reached the tenement district
of the lower East Side.

There, at the corner of Norfolk and
Grand Streets, the detectives saw the youth
meet an older man, thin and swarthy, to
whom he handed the package. The re-
ceiver slipped the youth a bill and, whirling,
ran west on Grand Street. Guns drawn,
the officers instantly sprang after him.

Twisting through the narrow, crowded
streets, their fleet-footed quarry began to
outdistance them and the detectives opened
fire. Their guns barked again and again as
they vainly tried to bring him down. Draw-
ing his own gun, the fugitive returned the
fire, and terrified pedestrians ducked into
hallways to escape the hail of lead.

For three blocks the chase continued
in a blaze of crossfire until. Detective
Drake, in the lead, caught up with the
fleeing gunman and cornered him against
the brick wall of a tall office building.
Deathly pale, a wild look in his eyes, the
fugitive was too frightened to talk as he
dropped his gun and held out his wrists
for Drake to handcuff. With the prisoner
Shackled, Drake bent down and _ picked
up the gun. It was a .38-calibre revolver—
the same size as the gun used to kill
Morris Saskowitz.

_ The detectives called for a squad car and
drove the prisoner directly to Brooklyn
headquarters, where he was fingerprinted

and booked. He gave his name as Louis

a

and IJ let him have it.

Mario Baron and the latter was br igh

hattan, an unemployed mechanic, A quic
check with the identification bureau dis
closed that Lazar had a police record o
several arrests and one conviction for
grand larceny, for which he had served
six months.
While Leach and his men awaited a
check of Lazar’s fingerprints with thos
found at the scene, Assistant District At
torney Anthony Digiovanna arrived at -
headquarters to question the prisoner.

GEATED under the bright lights of the
squad room,. Lazar had regained his
composure and proved a sullen and surly”
subject. He firmly denied that he had
killed Morris Saskowitz or that he even
knew the victim. He insisted he had not
written the extortion notes, and accused
the officers of trying to frame him.
As for the package the detectives had
seen him receive, Lazar declared that—
“some guy asked me to pick it. up for
him.” While Digiovanna strove to make
Lazar identify this man, a patrolman en-
tered the room and handed Leach a re-
port, which he passed on to the prosecutor.
.“You’d better come clean, Lazar,”
Digiovanna said. “The experts report that
your fingerprints match those on the watch
found at the murder scene, as well as those
on the knob of the cellar door there. A
test bullet fired from your revolver matches
the slug that killed Morris Saskowitz. Now
what do you say?” '
The prisoner sucked desperately on the
stub of a cigarette held in his trembling
fingers, and beads of sweat stood out Ol
his pale forehead. Then he broke.
“Okay, I did it!” he cried, springing
to his feet. “I killed him. But stop needling
me!” ;
When a stenographer was summoned to
take down his ‘story, Lazar claimed that
another man, Mario Baron, had hired him
to. kill Mr. Saskowitz. This man, he said,
had done a painting job for Saskowitz but
the. latter had refused to pay the bill. The
painter had argued with him, but didn’t
get anywhere, he continued, “so he told
me to get rid of the old guy and he’d col-
lect from the estate. He paid me $200
and was going to give me $300 more, but
he still owes me that.”
On the day of the crinie, Lazar went
on to say, he visited Morris Saskowitz at
the house before Stella was’awake and de-
manded payment of Mario’s bill. When
Saskowitz refused, he followed the old
man into the cellar and hit him over the
head with the butt of his gun as he bent
down to start the fire under the heater. ~
“He fought back with the coal shovel
Just one shot,”
Lazar concluded.
“That’s a fish story if I ever heard one,” -
Digiovanna declared. “Why did you try.
to shake down the victim’s son?” © =#=
“Mario had collected the bill from the’
Saskowitz estate, just as he expected, but.
he wasn’t satisfied,” Lazar replied. “He
thought up the extortion idea so we could -=
get more out of the family.” ae
“You're not telling the whole truth,
the prosecutor said. “We’ll get Mario down
here and see what he has to say about,
this.” 733% Bape So si
Leach sent two detectives to pick

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_ | to headquarters and led in to confront |.

Lazar. Baron denied vigorously that he
had hired the prisoner to kill: Saskowitz.

“I only sent Louie out to collect the
bill,” he insisted. “He lost his head and
shot the old man. And the extortion plot
must have been his own idea. This is the
first I’ve heard of it.” ge

“You knew that Lazar had killed Sas-
kowitz,” Digiovanna pointed out. “Why
didn’t you notify police?”

“I should have,” Baron admitted, “but
I was afraid of becoming involved.”

“By your failure to do so,” the prosecu-
tor snapped, “you are guilty of being an
accessory after the fact!” -

The threat of prosecution on this charge
terrified Baron, who readily agreed to
turn State’s witness and testify against
Lazar. Digiovanna presented the case to
the grand jury and won a swift indictment
charging Louis Lazar with first-degree
murder.

Late in October, Lazar went on trial
before Judge Franklin Taylor in Kings
County Court. The jury found him guilty,
and Judge Taylor sentenced him to die
in the electric chair the week of Decem-
ber 9th.

‘Lazar’s lawyer appealed the conviction,
and the Court of Appeals at Albany
granted him a new trial.

The following July the second trial be-
gan before Judge John J. Fitzgerald. Again

Lazar was found guilty and sentenced to

death for the second time.

On the cold night of January 15th,
1937, Lazar was led into the Sing Sing
death chamber, still protesting his inno-
cence. Turning to the 15 assembled wit-
nesses, he said in a clear voice:

“Gentlemen, I will be a star witness in
the other world and prove my innocence.
I thank you all.”

After this brief speech, he calmly seated
himself in the chair as the guards adjusted
the straps and the executioner tightened
the electrodes. Four minutes later, at
11:07, the prison physician pronounced
him dead.

Epiror’s Note: The names Hubert
Fisher and Mario Baron used in the fore-
going story are fictitious.

THE END

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CHAPTER XII.
EXECUTIONS IN THE CITY AND COUNTY OF NEW YORK.

“A great multitude had already assembled ; the windows were filled with people
smoking and playing cards to beguilo the time; the crowd wero pushing, quarrelling
and joking; everything told of life and animation but one dark cluster of objects in the
very centre of all—the black stage, the cross beam, the rope, and all the hideous ap-
paratus of death.”—D1oKEns, in Oliver Twist.

Passe are no official data of executions in the city and county
archives made during the period of the Dutch Government.
Here and there are found notes of executions, with the crimes
stated, but no reliable list is available.

The most notable in the early history of our city was the execu-
tion of Jacob Leisler and his son-in-law, Milbourne. The news of
the abdication of James II and the accession of William, Prince
of Orange, was received in Boston, April, 1689, when the people
seized Governor Andros and imprisoned him. The news reached

New York May 8lst, and Capt. Jacob Leisler put himself at the:

head of a party, seized the fort, and a Committee of Safety, which
convened in this city June 26, 1689, gave Leisler the superin-
tendence of affairs. In December the same year, a letter addressed
by the English Ministry, authorizing Col. Francis Nicholson to act
as Lieutenant-Governor, was received by Leisler during the former’s
absence, and Leisler assumed the powers of that office. In 1691
Governor Henry Slaughter arrived, but Lcisler persisted in holding
his power, and was, with his son-in-law, in consequence, tricd for
treason before a special commission, found guilty and executed,
May, 1691.

From the time the government of the city became vested in the
citizens of the United States executions for capital offences (mur-
der, manslaughter, highway robbery, forgery and arson) were legal
punishments, and were performed in public, until the enactment in
1834 of the law now in force, requiring all executions to be per-
formed in private, in the presence of certain officials and a coroner's
jury of citizens. A correct list of all who have paid the death

EXECUTIONS IN NEW YORK. 149

penalty would be difficult to obtain, even by a search through the
archives of the State Department in Albany. The list given, the
author regrets, does not comprise those punished by the Federal
Government, but simply catalogues those who were tried and pun-
ished under the State laws.

The negro plots of 1718, 1740-'41 were circumstances of great
terror, and citizens watched night and day until the alarm subsided.

FIRST EXECUTION IN NEW YORK.

The negroes charged with .participation therein were chained to a
stake and burned to death in a valley between Windmill Hill (site
of the old Chatham Theatre) and Pot Bakers’ Hill, midway between
Pearl and Barclay streets, where public executions were performed
for some years after. John Hustan (white) who was one of the
principals in the last outrages (1740-41), was bound in chains on a
gibbet at the southeast point of Rutger’s farm—not ten yards from
the present southeast corner of Cherry and Catharine streets.
Carson, a negro, was also hanged in chains on a gibbet at the south-


150 THE NEW YORK TOMBS.

cast corner of the old powder house in Magazine street. At this
time a general alarm prevailed, and the scenes of arrest, trial and
execution at the Collect Pond, where the Tombs now stands, kept
up a continual feverish excitement.

During the great fire of 1776, which commenced late at night,
September 21st, in a small wooden shed on the wharf, near White-
hall, then used as a bagnio, and which burned both sides of Broad-
way to Harrison’s brick house on the east, and St. Paul’s Church on
the west, down to the North river, a little beyond Bear market, Bar-
clay street. Trinity Church was fired, but St. Paul’s saved, and 493
houses were consumed. During that terrible time a respectable
man named White, whilst inebriated, was hanged on a sign-post at
the corner of Cherry and Roosevelt streets.

In 1700 the Assembly passed an act to hang every Popish priest,
which remained in force for over fifty years; but there is but one
recorded execution under the same.

There is found recorded the execution of John Higgins and John
Anderson at “Fresh Water” (site of the present City Prison
(Tombs), for passing counterfeit money. This pond was set aside
in 1761 to be used as a means for extinguishing fires.

Andrews, the pirate, was hanged in chains just above the present
site of Washington Market, in 1769, and his body transported and
hanged on Gibbet Island. Since then there have been a number
of executions on Government reservations—Gibbs, Wansley and
others—for piracy and desertion from the army.

In 1816 Ishmael Frazer, a colored man, for arson; and Diana
Silleck for murder, were hanged on a gallows at the intersection of
Bleecker and Mercer streets, which location was then beyond the
city limits.

In 1820 Rose Butler (negress) was executed for arson, in Pot-
ter's Field, near Washington Square. She was the last person hanged
in this county for that crime. But few convictions for that crime
have since been had. Alexander Jones, the last, was sent to State
Prison for life.

On the 16th March, 1824, John Johnson was convicted of the
murder of James Murray, and was executed, April 2d following,
at the intersection of Second avenue and Thirteenth street. Murray
was a stranger, and had taken board at Johnson’s house on Front

SUBJECTS FOR THE HANGMAN. 151

street. Johnson was arrested by “old Hayes,” as he was coming
out of Trinity Church.

A curious case of legal technicality arose as follows: In 1827
William Miller was sentenced to be executed, on a day fixed, for
the murder of David Ackerman, but execution was stayed by Judge
Ogden Edwards. Governor De Witt Clinton, having doubts as to
the power to appoint another day for the execution, commuted the
prisoner’s sentence to imprisonment for life. After serving twenty
years the prisoner was pardoned. His case was a peculiar one. As
the captain of a North River sloop he punished a refractory sailor
by towing him along in the wake of the vessel by means of a rope
attached, diversifying the punishment by drawing him in and let-
ting him go “ with a run,” which treatment resulted in the victim's
death.

On the 7th May, 1829, Richard Johnson and Catharine Coshear,
a black woman, were hanged on the northern end of Blackwell’s
Island, being taken from the Bridewell, in City Hall Park, and
conveyed to the island on one of the Brooklyn Ferry boats. The
former was hanged for the murder of Ursula Newman, the latter
for that of Susan Saltus. Johnson became fascinated with Ursula
Newman, who was obdurate. After a few words with her in the
parlor, in the frenzy and excitement of the moment he shot her
with a pistol. In his speech to the Court, before sentence was
passed, Johnson said: “In life, the deceased was the object of my
tenderest affection—an affection that her own unjust conduct seemed
but to inflame. Baffled in my honorable purposes, reason was ex-
pelled from its throne, and, in its absence, I was led to the commis-
sion of the offence for which I am now to satisfy the offended com-
munity by my own life. Were I conscious of any moral guilt, at
this result I should: not repine. Accustomed throughout life to re-
spect the law, I have not now to learn that the blood of the mur-
derer is alike a propitiatory sacrifice to the laws of God and man.
Convicted of the legal .crime, I know my fate. For the moral
offence, I have to answer to my conscience and to my God—and
that innate monitor tells me that I stand before this Court and this
community a legal, but not a moral murderer.”

On the 7th of January, 1832, Daniel Ransom was executed for
wife murder at the City Prison at Bellevue.


152 THE NEW YORK TOMBS.

In 1835 the first execution under the present law took place at
the same prison. Richard C. Jackson alias Manuel Fernandez, a
Portuguese seaman, was hanged. He took the matter with great
coolness and deliberation, smoked a cigar complacently, and asked
if he had not time to smoke another—his last words.

Nov. 18th, 1842, John C. Colt escaped the gallows through
suicide.

As to the pirates, the name of Capt. William Kidd stands out
prominently in the city’s history. He was recommended to Lord
Bellamont (Richard Cook), Governor of New York, by Robert
Livingston, who solicited the English Government for a vessel to
Suppress piracy; but all the fleet being required for the war with
France, the Duke of Shrewsbury, Lord Chancellor Somers, the
Earls of Romney and Oxford, and others, became sharers in the
enterprise with Livingston and Bellamont, who engaged Kidd. The
“ Adventure,” galley of 30 guns and 60 men, started from Ply-
mouth in April, 1696, and arrived in New York the following July.
Here Kidd was at home, having lived on a garden not remote from
the present “Tombs.” He shipped a crew to go to Madagascar in
pursuit of pirates, and on the voyage attacked the Mocha fleet but
was repulsed. He plundered the coast. Taking one of the vessels
of the Mocha fleet he returned to New York in 1698, and was re-
ported to have buried his treasure'on Gardner's Island, off Long

‘Island. Kidd was seized in Boston by Bellamont, and the British
man-of-war “ Rochester” was sent out to carry him to England,
but being driven back by stress of weather, it was reported that the
Government did not dare to take him. Kidd and nine of his men
were found guilty of murder and piracy in May, 1701, and were
accordingly hanged.

Dunlap’s History of New York chronicles the hanging of one
John Wry, on the charge of being a Roman Catholic, in 1683.

LIST OF EXECUTIONS IN THE CITY AND COUNTY OF NEW YORK.

1784.—Francis Higgins Highway Robbery.
“ Daniel Moore.. ba .
“William Buckley “
*  dbeiay TaN. gos as og os ds cdaccnc.. Housebreaking.
Tunis Casey Murder.

NOTED CRIMINAL CALENDAR. 153

1784.—Barbara Stillwell........ 00.0. cc cece ceeeecees Murder.
a William Flanegan Burglary.
1785.—Jacob Pickings #
Dennis Kearney
John Benson
Benjamin Lewis
John Heinbrow
7 Stephen Grimes,
1786.—James Carr
a“
. William Wright Highway Robbery.
1787.—Isaac (mulatto) Theft from Prison.
“James Wilson Highway Robbery.

Henry Heyleman
Richard Roach
1789.—John Thomas
ce John Lucas
in Forgery.
“ “
Forgery.
Henry Hombeck. ... Forgery of Bond.
John Lupton Highway Robbery.
William Kenny “ a
William Perin

Joseph Butler
Charles Barry............ ons goede cle snes eats Forgery.
1790.—Thomas Knight Highway Robbery.
“William Glover ”
1793.—Joel S. White
“ George Blossing
. John George Hobbold....
1794.—Jessie Hart
“ Leonine Romanie............0cecceceeees :
“ Thomas Creman.......eeseecccecessceccacces


THE NEW YORK TOMBS;

ITS

SECRETS AND ITS MYSTERIES.

BEING A

History or Nore Crnmyus, wit Narranives oF THEIR Gries,

AS GATHERED BY

OHARLES SUTTON,

WARDEN OF THE PRISON.

EDITED BY

JAMES B. MIX AND SAMUEL A. MACKEEVER.

“Those Dreadful walls of Newgate.”’—DIcKENs.

SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS.

SOLD ONLY BY SUBSCRIPTION.

Wew Yioek :
UNITED STATES PUBLISHING COMPANY,

11 & 13 UNIVERSITY PLACE...

1S'7A.

[facsimile of the original title page]


LEONII, Giusseppe, wh, elec. NY (NY) January 24, 1925

ee ca ee yl aie

ATROLMAN Harry Agard
had only an hour and forty
minutes more to go. It was
now 6:20 in the morning. His

shift would be over at 8 o’clock.
Swinging his nightstick jauntily,
the officer halted his beat at the
corner of Delancey and Ludlow
streets, sighting up and down the
tenement-walled canyons, looking
back and across.

It was April 3, 1932—a Sunday.
Ordinarily, on a week day, even at
this early hour, the narrow streets
of the neighborhood would be
jammed with moving hordes of
many-tongued peoples, the gutters
crowded with pushcarts and ped-
dlers, the sidewalks littered with
debris spilled from a hundred tene-
ments. For this was New York,
the heart and bowels of the world’s
most densely populated sector—the
lower East Side.

But this was Sunday. A weary
world slept late. The streets were
deserted... .

“My daughter! My daughter!”

From a distance, the policeman
suddenly heard a heavy Italian-ac-
cented wail. He peered sharply into
the gray canyons, but he saw no
sign of life.

“My daughter! My daughter!”

The lone cry grew in volume and
in anguish. Suddenly Agard
glimpsed a frantic man, violently
distraught, tearing at his hair,
barely capable of speech.

“My daughter!” he panted out.
“She’s dead—killed !”

The Italian turned on his heel
and started back the way he had
come, beckoning the policeman to
follow. Agard ran and caught up
with the man, restraining him with
difficulty at a corner call-box, while
he telephoned the 7th precinct sta-
tion house on Clinton Street.

“Name and address?” the officer
demanded.

“Leonti, 248 Broome Street. My
daughter, Anna, she is—when I
open her door she was... .”

The officer quickly repeated that

s
Why did death alone ease information to’ the Clinton Street
desk sergeant and asked for assist-
s 7 ance. Then, motioning Leonti on, at a tal
the aching heart of the fiery he soon arrived at.the Italian’s resi- arms. §
dence, an old-law tenement house, “My
beauty who was snatched five airless floors of flats over a mured.
dingy delicatessen store. —~ into a }
1 Leonti and the. patrolman as- at his
from her lover's arms?  cenied two flights of dark, narrow Sssdh the
stairs, pushing through a door off flat”: o
the third-floor hall, They entered a # other. S
kitchen where a woman was seated : ficer sti
SPECIAL DETECTIVE CASES SPECIAL D

fia Las ta 0 + eens Cai tia aatl ces Ok nia Abt a Oise A Se ee Me te

SPECTAL DETECTIVE MAGAZINE, May, 1942


roof that she still loved
was vitally interested in
‘Ss racket smashed.
blue-eyed, baby-faced
-ene Duffy, made no ef-
er adulterous relations
hen she testified in her
‘ehemently denied that
e tobacco farmer into
s the father of her
' that she had extorted
he had given her,
king into a bewitching
ad earned her the nick-
counted her first meet-
in Durham in detail.
the various meetings
followed and itemized

ney he had so gener-
on her,

‘ with him,” she boldly
e in her testimony. “T

o and I think he still

burst brought not the
- of anger or uneasi-
husband.
endant, Dr. Wishart,
cent although some of
sed him to “do so. His
mony was proof that
the unfortunate, had
ids of unscrupulous
ed he had not profited
Saction and was not
e had chosen vio-
ive state. He had
ough trying to help
lest Manner.
mation of the case
ed the attorneys two
dant, making a total
ution two and a half
hose to use much of
“4
ssly flay Littlejohn
ging such a sordid
istice. The two offi-
‘eterred to as “sewer
assive manner the
ave the defense at-
‘ring epithets” and
livering. what many
d was “the greatest
and ranked it with
evastatitlg of Meck-
1940. the jury
ouilty against Mr.
ne of acquittal for
“ was accepted with
packed courtroom
ntaneous applause,
1g no eftort to re-

five-to-seven year
two-to-four. The
itence and is now
it her husband has
dressing the con-
Johnston branded
unlawful and im-
the husband said
ves than one who
by the sale of his
al purposes.” The
lace his stamp of
llent i investigation
ictions possible,
> baby has never

Dao speesren the
rss Story is not real

Aa Spel

Detectives in White

[Continued from page 17]

But the medical examiner’s office does
not concern itself with murder alone. Of-
fenses in other branches of crime, equally
as bizarre, sometimes come to light across
the autopsy table. One of the most sen-
sational bits of medico-detective work be-
gan when a charity patient died in Belle-
vue hospital in December, 1933. This was
not an unusual occurrence on the face of
it, but inasmuch as the man’s death came
about so suddenly and mysteriously and
because the staff physicians hesitated to
diagnose his malady, his body was or-
dered to the morgue for a once-over by
the medical examiner.

He was fingerprinted, as are all medical
examiner cases. Dr. Milton Helpern, the
assistant assigned to the autopsy, noted
from the appending Bellevue history that
his occupation had been that of a sailor.
But not until Dr. Helpern was well on
with his work did this vocation indicate
any pertinent bearing on the matter.

Dr. Helpern noted an enlarged liver
and spleen. Hemorrhage points in the
brain suggested tropical malaria. Inci-
dentally, the corpse’s arms were pitted
with telltale hypodermic marks, pointing
to the fact that he had been a narcotic
addict.

But tropical malaria! Dr. Helpern was
surprised. The disease, causing fulminant
and violent death, had not been heard of
in New York City for years. Remember-
ing, however, that the man had been a
sailor, and realizing that it was entirely
likely he had picked up the germ in some
equatorial port, Dr. Helpern reported the
matter to the department of health and,
for the time being, let it go at that.

But tropical malaria was not to dismiss
itself so readily from Dr. Helpern’s con-
sciousness. During the next few weeks
he had three bodies to autopsy from dif-
ferent Bowery flophouses. All three, he
was amazed to discover, died from the
same dread disease. Likewise all three
gave evidence of having been devotees of
the needle.

At this point Dr. Helpern got the idea
of checking with police headquarters the
fingerprint records of his four victims.
When the reports came back all showed
criminal records, but what was more t
the point all had recentiy been confined
on Blackwell’s Island, then the New York
county penitentiary.

Dr. Helpern conferred with his su-
perior, Dr. Nor ris. The chief medical ex-
aminer went to Austin H. MacCormick,
commissioner of correction. On Jan. 24,
1934, the commissioner, flanked by sev-
eral of his deputies, and accompanied by
a score of headquarters’ detectives, raided
the prison, finding discipline a thing
scoffed at by the convicts, and laxity and
mismanagement rampant in its penal ad-
ministration. “

Of the 1,600 inmates on the island all
were ruled, not by the warden and his
keepers, but by Joey Rao, a Harlem
gangster, and Ed Cleary, a former Dutch
Schultz henchman. Rao and Cleary, to-
gether with 60 of their cohorts, were in-
stalled in the most comfortable quarters,
the two prison hospitals. Rao had a milk

goat. Cleary kept a police dog called
“Screw Hater.” Between them, the two
gangsters were raising more than 200
homing pigeons.

Rao “had monogrammed stationery and
a closet full of fancy clothes. Cleary op-

erated a complete home brew plant. In
the south cell block of the prison the
raid netted a great quantity of mascara,
rouge, lipstick and women’s silk under-
wear. A woman’s wig was turned up.
Several of the more effeminate prisoners
were being allowed to wear long hair.

Beneath the mattress of an unoccupied
cot, a deck of heroin, eyedropper with
hypo needle attached, and a blackened
beer bottle cap were found.

The authorities now knew the answer
to the malaria epidemic.

Narcotics were being sold in the prison,
so much a shot. Inadequately sterilized,
the same hypodermic was in use by all.
Originally infected by the sailor fresh
from the tropics, the infection of fatal
tropical malaria was passed on. The
great wonder was that more had not died.

The warden and medical director of
the prison were removed. The acting head
keeper was suspended and later dismissed.

The cracking of the Blackwell’s Island
affair pleased Dr. Charles Norris a great
deal. Afterwards he frequently pointed
to it as a splendid example of political
corruption unmasked. Always a bitter foe
of malfeasance, misfeasance and incom-
petence in office, Dr. Norris used to term
proponents of such as “floor-spitting,
pinochle-playing politicians.”

N SEPTEMBER, 1935, Dr. Norris

died. He was fortunately succeeded by
Dr. Thomas A. Gonzales, a career man
like himself, for more than 17 years Dr.
Norris’ principal assistant.

Dr. Gonzales likes to play with his
grandchildren. He is a candid camera
fan. But these domestic diversions do not
lessen his professional zeal or skill. He
lectures on crime before the New York
Police Academy. He is professor of legal
medicine at New York University. He is
recognized as one of the chief and indis-
pensable crime-fighting forces in the vast
metropolis. He came to the top post ex-
perienced and tried. Dr. Gonzales won
hearty respect of the police long ago. His
work on the Natale case in 1932 was in-

~dicative of his ability.

The call in this strange mystery came

at 6 o’clock on the morning of Sunday,
April 3, an urgent summons from De-
tective Francis Murray, veteran investi-
gator of the homicide squad, carrying the
doctor to a tenement on Broome street,
scene of a brutal murder.
» The body was that of an 18-year-old
girl, Anna Leonti Natale. She lay on a
bed in the back room of a “railroad”’ flat,
the room entered only through another
bedroom, with the single window in the
tiny chamber opening onto an airshaft.
The girl’s legs were crossed, her arms
outflung. Blood covered the entire front
of her nightgown. Her dark, tousled head
was jammed against the wall. Ugly
wounds: showed about her throat and
shoulders.

Pushing back the eyelids, feeling the
temperature of the body and moving the
limbs to determine the extent of rigor
mortis, Gonzales approximated the
time of death at some four hours before
or about 2 o’clock in the morning.

“Well,” commented Detective Murray,
“that checks with her father’s story. He
says her husband came home around one
o’clock.”

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79

i

Guiseppe Leonti, the father, nodded.
An Italian fish peddler, roughly dressed,
he stood silently by, his eyes half-closed,
his outstretched hand resting on his wife’s
shoulder, the dead girl’s mother seated
and bowed over, weeping with her grief,

Then, for the benefit of the doctor, the
Italian repeated his version of the entire
affair.

Months ago, he said, his daughter,
Anna, had fallen from the path of recti-
tude. Loving fine clothes and lavish
amusement better than she did virtue,
and being illy contented with the meager
living provided by her father, she had
gone into the streets selling her body,
eventually ending up in a house of as-
signation.

From here her father rescued her. A
short time later he arranged her marriage,
giving the bridegroom as dowry enough
money to open a small restaurant. The
young couple then took up residence in
the rear room of the father’s flat.

But Anna was wanton. Marriage did
not satisfy her. Three days before she
had left her home, mother, father and
husband, and gone into the streets again.
The night before, Saturday, her father
found her and brought her back once
more. She was exhausted. She went to
bed and to sleep before her husband re-
turned from his newly-established busi-
ness.

At 1 o'clock in the morning the hus-
band came to the apartment. Guiseppe
Leonti let him in, informing him that
Anna was back. The bridegroom swore
forgiveness, entering his wife’s room ap-
parently to retire. Leonti returned to his
own wite and bed in the room adjoining,
immediately falling into deep slumber.

At 5:30 the father arose and went to
his daughter’s room to awaken her hus-
band, his restaurant business demanding
both early and late hours. But he was
gone, the bed bloody, and Anna dead.

“During the course of the night you
heard no sounds of struggle—no
screams?” Detective Murray questioned.

“No,” the father answered, shaking his
head worriedly. “I was very tired. I
slept like a log.”

The same query put to her, Mrs. Leonti,
momentarily raising her haggard, tear-
filled eyes, replied similarly.

Detective Murray drew Dr. Gonzales
aside. “The partition between the two
rooms is quite thin,” he pointed out. “If
an outcry was made, the girl’s parents
must have heard. Tell me, Doctor, could
the girl have died without screaming?”

Dr. Gonzales examined the body again,
probing the surface orifices of the three
wounds, One was at the right breast and
the others to either side of the neck. All
were narrow slits in the skin, obviously
made by a stiletto-like knife.

“It the girl was asleep when attacked,”
the doctor answered, “and if the first stab
was the fatal one, then it is possible that
she emitted no sound. But, before an
autopsy, it is difficult for me to be any
more definite than that.”

Questioning nearby residents and other
occupants of the tenement, Detective
Murray learned from one source that the

girl’s husband had been noticed entering
the building at an early hour in the morn.
ing, and from another that he had been
seen emerging. It was enough: within a
few minutes he was picked up at his
restaurant. Protesting his innocence, he
was immediately taken to the Clinton
street police station.

Meanwhile Dr. Gonzales ordered the
removal of Anna Leonti Natale’s body to

80

e

the morgue.
forthwith.

The stab in the right breast, he had
found, had passed inward between the
third and fourth ribs. The cut in the right
side of the neck went inward and back-
ward, but did not sever any important
structure. But the wound in the left side
of the neck varied Strangely in its direc-
tion. On the surface appearing just like
the other two, it nevertheless passed in-
ward and downward and entered the
chest at the apex of the lung.

With his rubber gloves still on his
hands, he hastened to the telephone and
was immediately connected with De-
tective Murray at the Clinton street pre-
cinct.

“We're still at it,” the officer announced
wearily.

“Listen, Murray, there’s something
wrong with Leonti’s story. The girl
wasn’t asleep when she was stabbed. I
know that now. The autopsy shows it.
She was awake and she was either sit-
ting or standing, because the passage of
the fatal wound is downward and not
backward into the body. Sleeping with
her head against the wall, it would have
been impossible for anyone to have
stabbed the girl in such a direction, Leonti
must be lying!”

Here he began an autopsy

APPRISED of Dr. Gonzales’ discovery
and questioned separately, the vic-
tim’s mother broke. She, too, had been ly-
ing, yet not from any culpable motive, but
out of frenzied fear of her husband. She
accused Leonti of driving Anna to the
streets to work for him and bring him her
earnings. Anna wanted to keep her hus-
band but her father would not let her.
The preceding night he told her that her
husband would have to go. Anna refused
to part with him. The husband came
home from work but Guiseppe would
not let him in the flat so he went away.
Afterwards Anna and Guiseppe argued
more, then fought. He got a kitchen knife
and stabbed her again and again,

She fell to the floor and he picked her
up and threw her on the bed. Later he
got rid of the knife. He warned his wife
that if she told the truth he would kill
her too,

The victim’s husband was completely
exonerated. In January, 1933, Guiseppe
Leonti was convicted of murder in the
first degree in the Court of General Ses-
sions and sentenced to death. He was
electrocuted at Sing Sing prison -two
years later, Jan. 24, 1935.

Every year in New York City 75,000
people die. Of this number, 15,500 are
referred to the medical examiner’s office
as being homicidal, suicidal, accidental,
violent, sudden, without being attended
by a physician, or from causes unknown.
Twenty per cent of the 15,000 are au-
topsied, eight a day. Strange maladies
come to light, even stranger causes of
death by accident.

One of these weird mysteries came on
Nov. 24, 1936, when the motorship Em-
pire State out of Buffalo tied up ata
Dupont street dock in Brooklyn. The
hatches were removed and four steve-
dores descended into the hold to bring up
the cargo, a shipment of frozen cherries,
The stevedores did not emerge. A police
emergency squad was summoned and offi-
cers, equipped with gas masks, descended,
bringing up four bodies. The police in-
vestigated the hold but found nothing
which could have caused death, Medical
examiners autopsied the bodies, produc-

ing four identical reports. All four men,
according to the medical examiners, were
smothered.

A further investigation by District At-
torney Geoghan bore out the medical ex-
aminers’ contention. The cherries were
packed, for preservation, in dry ice. Dry
ice is solidified carbon dioxide, When the
ice “melted,” returning to its original
gaseous form, carbon dioxide was given
off, expelling the air. The hold contained
no oxygen when the stevedores climbed
down to death.

The study of breathing, less than six
months later enabled the medical exam-
iner’s office to score again, this time to
become directly responsible for the swift
capture of a vicious killer,

# On the morning of Mar. 20, 1937, a
milkman, going his rounds, chanced
across a burlap bag under the stoop of

a house on Linden street, Brooklyn.
Curious, he opened it and was horrified
to discover the body of a little girl,

Detectives Frank Wolter and James
Sloan of the Wilson avenue station iden-
tified her easily. She was Einer Sporrer,
9 years old, who lived with her parents
on Irving avenue.

Dr. George W. Ruger, assistant med-
ical examiner, looked at the body at
the scene and accompanied it to the
morgue. There he immediately began an
autopsy, confirming that the child had
been the victim of a sex fiend, who had,
later, beaten her to death, raining blow
after blow on her beautiful head.

Opening the body, Dr. Ruger exam-
ined the pleural cavity, the lungs, throat,
thorax and esophagus. What he found
astounded him. Straightway he made
for a telephone and soon had Detective
Wolter on the wire.

Thirty minutes later Wolter entered
a small barber shop on Irving avenue
only a few doors from the girl’s home.
The barber, Salvatore Ossido, in the
act of cutting a customer’s hair, startled,
dropped his scissors and tried to flee.

Wolter’s partner, Sloan, grabbed
Ossido and held him. Wolter searched
the shop, finding a bloodstained hammer
in the back room.

Ossido quickly confessed the crime.
He had two previous convictions for sex
offenses and at the moment was out on
bail pending trial for a third. Offering
candy, he had enticed the girl into his
shop and there attacked her, throwing
her to the floor, and beating her to death
when she cried out in terror.

The bloodstains on the hammer were
ound by the medical examiner to be of
the same type as Einer Sporrer’s blood.
Tried in April, 1937, just a month after
the murder, Ossido was convicted of mur-
der in the first degree. On Jan. 7, 1938, he
was electrocuted at Sing Sing.

The solution of the entire case was a
brilliant stroke on the part of Dr. Ruger.
In the mouth, throat and pleural cavity
of the dead girl he found hairs. They were
short hairs and long hair, red hairs,
brown hairs and black hairs.

Where, the medical examiner asked
himself, would there be such a combina-
tion of lengths and color of hair?

The next moment the answer came to
him—on the floor of a barber shop, of
course! While struggling with her as-
Sailant the girl had breathed them in.

The detectives, responding to the phone
call, at once started to canvass the neigh-
borhood barber shops. Ossido’s was one
of the first they entered.

The medical examiner had scored once
more,

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Harry Agard
hour and forty
‘e to go. It was
-he morning. His
‘er at 8 o’clock.
htstick jauntily,
his beat at the
ey and Ludlow
p and down the
rxanyons, looking

1932—a Sunday.
‘eek day, even at
.e narrow streets
hood would be
ving hordes of
»ples, the gutters
shearts and ped-
lks littered with
1a hundred tene-
was New York,
‘els of the world’s
ilated sector—the

junday. A weary
The streets were

My daughter!”
ce, the policeman

heavy Italian-ac-
eered sharply into
s, but he saw no

My daughter!”
-ew in volume and
uddenly Agard
tie man, violently
ing at his hair,
f speech.

!” he panted out.
led!”
irned on his heel
< the way he had
: the policeman to
an and caught up
‘straining him with
ner call-box, while
1e 7th precinct sta-
linton Street.
idress?” the officer

3roome Street. My
i, she is—when I
ae was....”

iickly repeated that
the Clinton Street
nd asked for assist-
stioning Leonti on,
at.the Italian’s resi-
iw tenement house,
ors of flats over a
sen store.

the. patrolman as-
hts of dark, narrow
through a door off
aall. They entered a
a woman was seated

SPECIAL DETECTIVE GASES

Sprawled on the bed
was a jet-haired
young girl. Her exotic
face was pale, her
lips blue. Wide
splotches of blood
dyed the bedclothes
crimson. “She's mur-
dered!" her father

gasped.
(Specially Posed)

at a table, her head buried in her
arms. She was sobbing.

“My wife,” the Italian mur-
mured. Without stopping he darted
into a bedroom at the left, Agard
at his heels. The policeman saw
that the apartment was a “railroad
flat”: one room opened into an-
other. Still following Leonti, the of-
ficer stepped into a second bed-

SPECIAL DETECTIVE CASES

room. Then he halted abruptly.
Lying on an iron double-bed was
a girl—her slim legs crossed, her
head turned slightly towards the
left. Short and slight, with jet-black
hair and smooth, tawny skin, she
was sprawled on the bed so natur-
ally that she looked alive. But
Agard knew that couldn’t be, for
the whole front of the’ girl’s cling-

ing blue silk
crimson. Ther
wound in the'le
throat, ano
right collar

hoarsely. Pulling
he made several: quick
bed was the. OT farn


2 our horribie. tie stood in tront of the murror
sman j With a gun in his hand. He cried and

AL one point in the proceedings he
paused and turned to the reporters w

FUR Hee
tteaders ut Pe
~Tith | raged. I did all I could-to baby him. The were covering the scene. “How’s my who ren
You'll | next day we took the bus to his mother’s file, pals?” he asked. ,

largest on wk}

‘farm in Boonville.”

ed) so much me

ough possilite
“You're a dead ringer for a killer,” saiq I ewery bs gi
Pressed by the officers, she stated that one of the reporters. Then, as an after. tally treated S
when she had been questioned by the thought: “And I mean dead.” carry out ie
Spree . bad vl
— and abolish 1
wrong Sex HO
SEASON FOR SLAUGHTER

Muminating Wi

ish the net

pac =

yite. q
Continued from page 13 =
improvement

ete., that sho
This treasure
fer only $1.

“A big hole far to the left, apparently

she believed to be the backfire of her
ranging down and to the right. A deer

husband’s car, had seen it sfill standing

sun),
slug would be my guess.” in the back yard and had gone out and Partial ©
A “A ‘punkin ball’ load from a shotgun, found Arthur dead; “Ideal |
@ | most likely,” Sergeant Long agreed. Dr. Cole sent the body to a mortuary in ‘
H “Pretty careless shooting, to plug a man Elba and summoned Dr. Joseph Tannen- 7 nyevene.
| in his own farmyard.” berg, director of the Genessee Laboratory @ Latest sey
4 “More than _careless,” Wood said an- and the county pathologist, to perform an improving
7a grily. “Downright criminal. It’s illegal autopsy. The state policemen returned ° Role of
#"— | to hunt deer before seven in the morning, to their station in Batavia. pe pa
and we got the call on this at six-thirty.” They had not finished writing their re- * Noman.
) “The season’s only a day old,” Long port when Dr. Cole telephoned. eos &
Js said grimly, “and here in Genessee County “The autopsy shows,” he said, “that ee
alone we’ve had two deaths from hunting.” Anheier was not accidentally shot. It o Rrordin
As they awaited the arrival of Dr. I. A. seems a pretty plain case of murder.” ae ©
Cole, the coroner, at the Anheier farm, Ten minutes later Sergeant. Wood and o “Reluve
, Sergeants Wood and Long puzzled over Inspector Harry M. DeHollander were | rex pol
“a the manner in which Arthur Anheier had facing Drs. Cole and Tannenberg in the % whet
dy | become the victim of a hunting accident. Elba mortuary. | * Serire,
oe Even a gunner so foolhardy as to ven- “The lethal bullet was a solid shot load : © Sex at
mas | ture a shot at game almost beside a from a shotgun, all right,” Dr. Tannen- oe : | er
“ne | dwelling couldn’t have erred in believing berg conceded. “However, we found part ‘cnn of ° Mn sat
vst he had spotted a deer when Anheier came oof the shell’s wadding imbedded in the res lar listed by F.B.1. as one © Natura
se out of his house, for the man was walking wound, and also slight powder burns. The r d Edward Young, © burg his capture in Denver. | ° ve
| ie ring, open ground when the big range — scarcely have been more than - DENVER, igre crete fugitives, is shown after f ‘@ Attain
CK. a few feet.” jon’s ten mo @ Ideal
. Sergeant Wood's eyes fastened upon a Wood was quick to agree, knowing that  oieaeale rs there might be two ge tela pe
ad | | clump of thicket fringing a creek that. the wadding between the shot load and murdered, the —. follow in looking for our Ki 4 On
my «= CaNdered down the slope to the swamp. the powder charge in a shotgun shell gypsum miner had al ought to snot for Amnheier’s murcer, | gine
| There’s only one explanation I can rarely travels more than ten yards upon neighbor didn’t bat an ao it out to be an OF the |. oe oe Fare
_ See,” he said. “A deer in that cover and leaving the muzzle of the gun. And this “{ just couldn't make ei said. “There anyhow. | on your mind?” Inspector Ve ent
a hunter shooting at it. He fired in that wad had struck Anheier with sufficient accident from the start, enough to the or sked hi a
direction and missed. Those big loads force to penetrate his clothing and bury - gin’t no deer come close Back in the et ae shot by somebody W . REA
will travel, especially out of a lomg-bar- itself in his flesh. The range, the sergeant house for a shot to Carry. ea the = “Was ne = on purpose to do just tha ~
telled shotgun. The slug could have been thought, must have been. very close wamp, maybe, but agg re But who’d came out Her who knew exactly when Der
~ 0 ring to drop when Anheier walked indeed. , rola except rer ms ony don’t know Oy ies. WO ld come out of = sea _
i into its path.” . 4 kill Art: 7 onl n i: , maybe, VA
A search of the thicket, however, re- §NSPECTOR DeHOLLANDER and Ser. . on yes well, on account = frien Oak- start to elgg peregeol Anheier walked | |
vealed no deer tracks. A hunt along. the geant Wood found only a-neighborin oved here a few sont Pe em, seemed himself bac let him have it? Or the | ar
stream revealed no prints of a hunter’s " farmer at the Anheier place. . field, but the Anbeiers, up, and ‘cookenel “was he killed a: :
boots, turned up no empty casing of a “Mrs.- Anheier,” this man explained like nice folks.” ‘ng down toward sergeant he happened to catch in a | ne
shotgun shell. “went all to pieces. We took her and the Sergeant Wood, sere two hillocks someone “4 P | ci
Wood and Long obtained a brief state- kids to my place up the road a piece and - the Orchard Swamp aid jts near verge, pose just what?” DeHollander
ment from Mrs. Anheier, who was so called the doc. We put her to bed and to that stood sentinel on } contemplation eee | [=
shocked by the tragedy she was barely sleep. I came here to see what ought to emed lost for a time gee rling above it. queried. thinking of the time of the
LS able to talk. The officers learned only be done.” ’ . 8 wr the last swirls of = Said ally, “it ——
= |.that she had been awakened by what When they told him the 42-year-old ° “Right offhand, meme


BATAVIA, N. Y., NOVEMBER 24, 1951

FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE MAGAZINE, March, 1952.

he sles alidow lonight. |

ee:

I y e

she didn’
e didn’t know about that half-veiled promise in her smoky eyes. All

urdered.

what it was; *t know

by .Paul McClung

icchdatot
en at AR

Arthur: He walked out of his house at 6:30 a.m.
At 6:31, he was dead; killed by a single bullet.

The suspect, accompanied b
leaves for arraignment less than 28 hours after Anheier died.

poi FT gh A MPR

Technical Sergeant John Long,

She bit her lip and shook her head

ay
a:
@ IRENE ANH : a
an who cinihd, detee estat ceaes rs ig aa 2s He did this every morning. It was as tree and the lunch bucket was several of neighbor women and Wood asked
and nobody ever knew fonper d _ er, #? much a part of his schedule as going feet away. ; . Irene if there was a reason her hus-
was about her. She didn’t k yw at it 3s to church every Sunday at St. Paul’s “Tt sounded like the backfire from a band’s death might not have been an
now, either. |! Lutheran. They lived in a white frame car,” Irene sobbed. accident.

She didn’t even know she had that
half-veiled promise in her smoky gray
eyes, a promise hidden behind her wide.
eyed Seriousness, or the laughter of her
as. pouting mouth.
er husband was older tha
He was 42 and she was 33; ne repeie
steady as an alarm clock. It was still
Gark 5:45 the morning of November
3, 1951, when he swung his stubby
igi of their double bed and stuck
eet into a pair
~~ on the ee ee
e top of his head was bal
egg, and he massaged it with his ‘thick
hands. He was built like a heavy wooden
block. He kindled a fire in the kitchen
stove and put the coffee on. Then he
padded into the bedroom and crawled
back into bed. Her bare flesh was
warmer when he came back and he felt
glad it belonged to him. It was the day
after Thanksgiving and he was thank-
ful they had two children, Roiert, 8
and Diane, 4. He lay there squeezing

her and listenin
s g to the coff.
10 more minutes. mumee ‘perk: foe

Irene: "If I'd gone out the back
instead, he would have killed oor

é
-§
d
oR
a

yaa

farmhouse near Elba in northwestern
New York half way between Buffalo
and Rochester.

Irene was a wisp of a woman, but
her body was plump and sturdy. Art
was a stickler for schedule, but he al-
ways hated to get up after that last
10 minutes in bed, and Irene knew it.
She loved it. She buried her face in his
chest and hugged him tight.

At 6:30 that morning she kissed him
goodbye and he marched out the back
door of their house with his black lunch
pail tucked under his arm. He would get
in his car and drive to work as a
miner at the U. S. Gypsum Co. plant at
Oakfield, two miles west. :

He tramped through dried leaves in
his backyard, going towards the family
car. It was still dark. The second day
of open deer season in Genesee County
hadn’t yet begun. Good deer weather.
He breathed deep and the cold air
rushed down into his lungs. A gun
roared and pain exploded in his chest.
He fell on his back, dead.

“Irene Anheier was on her knees, weep-
ing by her dead husband’s side when
the doctor and Sergeant George S.
Wood of the state police bureau of
criminal investigation got there. The
sun was coming up. The body lay by a

“Fool deer hunters,’ Sergeant Wood
muttered. Another man, Donald S.
Heywood of East Bethany had been
killed the day before while deer hunt-

ing.

Dr. I. A. Cole, coroner at Batavia,
the county seat, examined the body.
Arthur F. Anheier had died of a gun-
shot wound inflicted by a deer slug.

The officers scoured the woods but
found no deer hunters until after day-
light. Sergeants Wood and C. A.
Stephens, another state policeman,
wondered why a deer hunter would be
shooting in the dark, at 6:30. Hunting
wasn’t supposed to start until 7.

“Jn that much darkness, a man would
have to shoot at close range to hit
anything at all,” Wood said.

The autopsy proved him right. Dr.
Joseph Tannenberg, county pathologist
and director of the Genesee Laboratory
reported:

“The 12-gauge shotgun slug took an
upward course into his body. He was
shot at close range, 30 to 35 feet. The
bullet and wadding both were in the
wound.”

Wood went back to the Anheier
home. The sun was up over the trees
now and deer guns were cracking in
the woods. The Anheier house was full

as hard as she could.

“He treated me better than any man
in my life,” she whispered and fresh
tears flushed down her face.

Wood tried the neighbors. Maybe
they'd know if the husky miner had
enemies. But he could find no one who
knew of any trouble that Anheier had
had.

He stopped for gasoline at an Elba
filling ‘station and warmed himself by
the stove inside, It was a pot, bellied
red hot coal stove. Men stood around
it talking about the two county kill-
ings in two days. There oughtn’t to be
a deer season anyhow, someone said.

An Argument

When Wood went back to the car
a big farmer wearing a mackinaw and,
cap with earflaps followed him. The
farmer shifted his wad of tobacco and
spat.

“Y'know, George, last week old Art
had a big argument with Bill Johnson
right in the barber shop. Art Anheier
never was a man for loud talk, but
that Johnson is a young whippersnapper
if I ever saw one.”

At noon (Continued on page 63)

‘zz Axenuep uo (£4un0p 90s

Saqtum **q ueydeys *STMaT

°€S6T

~9u0)) yao MeN peynoo.zzoeTe

Or your

intee

ur Bust-
an only
mpletely
ay post-

011, HI.

BT,

EL CENTRO, CAL—William E. (Bad Man) Cook, flanked by guards, is led to

jail cell after being sentenced to death in San Quentin gas chamber. Jury
found him sane and legally responsible for year-old murder of Robert Dewey.

The man, she said, was Stephen D.
Lewis, a 42-year-old factory employee
who sold vacuum cleaners, clothing and
shoes as sidelines. She had worked with
him for a time, early in 1950, when she
had lived alone in Rochester.

“He became fond of me,” the widow
related. “When Art. and I began living
together again, I told Steve not to bother
me any longer, but he wouldn’t give up.”

Lewis visited the family in Oakfield. He
continued his visits after they moved to
the farm near Elba. Finally, at Arthur's
dictation, Irene write to Lewis, instructing
him to stay away. =.

He didn’t obey. Indeed, on Monday
and Tuesday: of this very week he: had
called. He had said he would return on
Thursday to go deer hunting but. had

failed to show up. He’d telephoned. the

night before the murder to apologize for
not coming down from the city.

“A couple of times,” Mrs. Anheier
said, “he sort of made threats toward Art.
I didn’t take him seriously.”

Late Friday night Corporal E. F, An-
derson of the Clarkson barracks went to
an address supplied by Mrs. Anheier and
there found Steve Lewis.

He admitted knowing the Anheiers. He
confessed that he did admire Irene. But
he indignantly denied that he had driven
to Elba and slain her husband.

Police found a 12-guage shotgun in his
auto.

“Sure,” he said, “there’s a gun in my

@. I borrowed ‘it from my uncle, in-

tending to go hunting. Look it over. It
hasn’t even been fired.”

The barrel. was clean, but that meant
nothing, of course. A few swabs with a
rag on the end of a ramrod would _have
put a shine to the polished steel.

“Where are your shells?”

“I didn’t even buy any,” Lewis said.
“When I found yesterday that I couldn't
get away, there was no. sense in buying
shells, was there?”

Lewis was taken to Batavia where, in
the office of District Attorney Wallace J.

Stakel, he was questioned by the D. A...

and by DeHollander and Wood. For sev-
eral hours he doggedly denied any guilty
knowledge of the murder. He insisted he
had spent all Thursday night in his room,
and his landlady in Rochester, who des-
cribed him as a quiet, well-behaved lodger,
said that as far as she knew, he had been
there. However, she merely supposed this,
she admitted, not having seen him after
early Thursday evening.

Lewis said he had gone to work at his
factory on time on Friday morning, but
this would have been possible, the police
knew, even if he had been at the Anheier
farm at 6 or 6:15 A. M. He could have
easily returned to Rochester in an
hour. :

Sergeant Wood at length grew weary
of the man’s denials. “Look, Lewis,” he
said, “you’ve been caught in one lie. You
told Corporal Anderson you bought no
shotgun shells. Had you really planned
to go hunting on Thanksgiving Day, you’d
certainly have gotten your shells the day
before.

“First we'll fire a solid shot load from
your uncle’s gun and compare it with the
slug we took from Anheier’s body. Then
we'll run a paraffin test on your hands,
to see if you’ve fired a gun within the
last. twenty-four hours.”

A slug from the shotgun in Lewis’s
possession would reveal no _ ballistics
secrets, but Wood hoped that Lewis,
plainly unaccustomed to handling wea-
pons, would not know that.

“And, finally,” the sergeant continued,

“there’s someone outside J want you |
see.”

Irene Anheier walked in. Her eyes we:
bitter as she faced Stephen Lewis.

“You're the man,” she grimly accuse:
“who made a widow out of me. You
the last man on earth [’d ever want t
see again.”

A few minutes later, pale and shake
from the meeting with Mrs. Anheic:
Lewis allegedly said he was ready |
confess.

“I was jealous,” he said, “crazy jealous
I thought that maybe, with her husban.
out of the way, she’d marry me.”

Early in the morning, police’ quote hir
as saying, he drove to the farm, where h
hid behind Anheier’s car until the mine
came out. Then he leaped out and fire.
at point-blank range. Anheier fell. Lewi
sprinted to his own machine, parked o
the highway nearby, and returned ¢.
Rochester.

“I hoped you'd figure it was just ar
other hunting accident,” he said. “I gues
because I didn’t know too much abou
guns, I got too close to him. But I didn’
want to miss.”

The following day Lewis was arraigne.
in a justice’s court on a murder complain:
A plea of innocent was entered for him
and he was ordered held without bail.

Mrs. Anheier was placed under bond «
a material witness in the case, but Inspec
tor DeHollander made it plain that sh
was in no way implicated in her hu:
band’s death. The tragic courtship by
bullet had been the idea of Steve Lewis
and Lewis alone.

Epiror’s Note: The name Ed Norri
is fictitious,

REEFER BOYS
Continued from page 25

We're getting nowhere fast,” he said
“Let’s try a new tack. Let’s work on th:
possibility that the killer may actuall
have been one of the very men John wa:
after. That reefer butt could make it so.”

They drove out to the house of mourn
ing at 346 Kinnear Place. There th
widow. allowed the detectives to gc
through her husband’s private papers
which were locked in a desk. They found
items relating to past cases on which Don.
lan had worked, as well as memorandum:
on the sergeant’s household expenses am
business dealings.

“Mrs. Donlan could account for it al!
except one notation, on the back of a:
envelope. There were sets of initials: D
R., F. F. and E. G.

“Those could be the initials of bov:
John was investigating,” Yoris said. “Joh
had said he didn’t want to name the boy-
until he was sure they were guilty.”

The detectives poured over court rec
ords of youths in the Seattle area who ha:
been in trouble. Some had been sent ti
the state reformatory at Monroe. Other:
had served time in the state training schoo’
on Mercer Island. Still others had beer
let off with warnings. ;

They found no listings under the initial:
D. R. or E. G. The F. F. could be Fran!
Favor. Records, in Judge William Long’:
juvenile court showed that Frank Favor
19 at the time of the murder, had bee:
sent to the parental school two year
earlier. He had been arrested for sellin:
a spotlight stolen from a brewery sales
man’s car,

Favor had been freed a year earlier. H
was supposed to be living at the home c

R CAR

S. Pat.
153853
153854
et goes
ors fire

shooting,” Wood explained. “Between six
and six-thirty, quite a spell before it was
legal to kill a deer. Suppose some
poacher wounded a buck down there in
the swamp and it ran up the creek right
close to the house before it dropped.
Then suppose the hunter was.bending over
the buck when Anheier came out and
spotted him.”

“You mean,” the inspector concluded
for him, “that Anheier was shot down by
a poacher who feared the farmer would
report him to the game wardens. Wouldn't
it be sort of like jumping out of the fry-
ing pan into the fire to commit murder
just to escape a fine or a short jail term
for poaching?” :

Sergeant Wood shrugged. “You never
can tell what a man will do when he’s
caught redhanded violating a law,” he
said. He turned to the neighboring farmer
who had given Mrs. Anheier and her
children refuge in his home. “Anyone
around here got a reputation for jacking
deer?”

“There’s been talk,” the man replied.
“Ed Norris—he’s got a shack in the
swamp over a couple of: miles east. Works
on the farms part time, traps in the winter.
I’ve heard some say he ain’t above using
a jacklight at a watering hole to get
some venison.”

“It might be a good bet, at that,”
DeHollander conceded. “You play it,
George. I'll tackle the other one—that
there was someone with a reason to come
out here early this morning and set an
ambush.”

Wood made his way carefully’ toward
the swamp, searching thoroughly for the
tracks of a deer or a hunter, for blood
or any other sign of a kill in the vicinity

' within the past few hours.

DeHollander, meanwhile, radioed for a

| car, and when it arrived he set out to

investigate the possibility of a deep-lying
personal motive. for Arthur Anheier’s
death. Mrs. Anheier, he learned, was still
under a sedative, and so the inspector
continued on the. village of Oakfield,

‘where the victim had worked and where

he and his family had once lived.

N the swamp, brush-choked, harboring

frequent patches of scrub forest and

drained by ditches and two large creeks,
Sergeant Wood prowled for some time
without coming upon anything more in-
teresting than a ‘few deer tracks several
days old.

Then, as he worked his way eastward
toward the highway which crossed the
area over a series of islands, a tiny flicker
of red caught his eye. It was an empty
12-gauge shotgun shell. The “punkin ball”
slug cut from Arthur Anheier’s body had
been fired from a 12-gauge gun.

Wood studied it curiously after a sniff
told him that the shell had been fired re-
cently. He noted, with the eye of a
man expert in the handling of firearms,
that. the indentation of the firing pin in
the brass percussion cap was a little off
true center. He pocketed the shell and
plodded on.

The sergeant came, at last, to a rude
shanty set in a clearing, the home, he
figured, of Ed Norris. A curl of blue
smoke twisted out of a length of chimney
pipe jutting from the shack and trailed off
into nothingness among the trees. It ap-
peared that Norris was at home.

And so he was, a spare man in his late
fifties, grizzled, weather-worn, with the
gnarled look of tough old oak about him.
He peered questioningly at the sergeant’s
uniform as he let Wood into his one-room
dwelling, a room in which: steel traps
gleamed against the wall and hung from
the antlers of three deer heads affixed to
hand-carved plaques.

“Somethin’ special?” he queried.

“Got your deer yet, Ed?” the sergeant
asked.

“Nope. Never go out the first few
days of the season. Too many damfools
about with guns that carry a mile. Ain't
a one of ’em kin tell a buck from a field
mouse. Shoot anything that moves. I
wait. Next week’ll do.”
“You weren’t out this
maybe last night?”

“Nope. What you driven’ at?”

Wood eyed a deer rifle on the wall.
“You got a shotgun, too?”

“Yep.”

“A twelve-guage?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s see it.”

Its barrel was dazzlingly clean, as Wood
had expected it would be, in the possession
of a man who obviously trapped and
hunted much. ee

morning—or

“You got a deer load for this?” Wood.

asked.

“Nope. When I go for deer, that’s my
gun.” Norris nodded at the carbine on
the wall.

“You’ve got some kind of shell for this

shotgun, haven’t you?” the sergeant said.
“Dig one out.” : .
Norris went to a shelf, reached down
a box of shells and handed over a shell.
Wood noted that it held a charge of No.
6 chilled shot. He stepped outside, found
a thick woodpile 40 yards away, loaded
the gun a@fd fired into the wood. Then he
ejected the empty shell and compared it
with the one he took from his pocket.
The firing pin of Norris’s gun hit off
center. The shell Wood had picked up in

- the swamp back near the Anheier farm

had been fired from this weapon.

Norris instantly admitted as much. On
Wednesday afternoon, he said, he'd potted
a rabbit there. “For my Thanksgiving. din-
ner,” heesaid. ,

When Wood explained the purpose of
his visit, the old recluse swore he had been
nowhere near the Anheier place that
morning, stoutly declared he never used
“punkin ball” loads in his shotgun and
invited the sergeant to search the premises
for any evidence of a deer carcass or of
the kind of ammunition used in the
slaying.

The state officer found nothing to in-
criminate the old fellow, but when he left
the shack in the swamp he wasn’t unaware
that Norris was sufficiently shrewd to have
safely removed any dangerous evidence
hours ago, if he were guilty of Anheier’s
death.

ACK at the Batavia barracks, how-

ever, Wood pushed his lingering sus-

picion of the trapper far back in his
mind as he heard Inspector DeHollander’s
report on his investigation.

At the U. S. Gypsum Company’s plant
the inspector had learned two things. One
was that Art Anheier got along well with
everyone. The other was that fellow
miners knew something in his domestic
life had been troubling him for quite
awhile. Just what it was, nobody could—
or would—say.

“In Oakfield,” DeHollander said, “I did
find out that he and his wife were sep-
arated for a time a couple of years ago.
She stayed in Rochester until they made
up their differences and she came back to
him. It’s more than just possible, George,
that something stemming out of her time
in Rochester may have led up to her hus-
band’s murder.”

“So our next move,” the sergeant
guessed, “is to go out and talk with Mrs.
Anheier.”

“We could do that,” the inspector said,
“if she’s out of her shock enough to be
coherent. Maybe it’d be wiser, though, to

make a thorough check in Rochester firs *

A phone call to the Clarkson state ;
lice barracks sent BCI men into the c: ;
to work with Rochester detectives on
inquiry into the occupations and assoc:
tions of: Irene Anheier while she ls
there during her separation from he,
band in 1949 and 1950.

DeHollander and Wood then dro:
north to Elba to probe among the tow:
some 600 inhabitants for any informati
or gossip that might prove useful.

In Elba, Sergeant Wood passed a ge:
eral store with a window filled with gur
and ammunition and, on a hunch, we:
inside.

“You know Ed Norris?”
the proprietor.

“For forty years,” the storekeeper sai:
“I guess he buys ‘most everything h
spends money for right in here.”

“Including his shotgun shells?”

“Including them. Crab an hour abou
the price, but I always tell him the wa.
he shoots, he’s getting pretty cheap mex
at a nickel a shell.”

“Yeah,” Wood agreed. “A nickel for ;
deer is cheap, all right.” ‘

“Oh,” the storekeeper said, “Ed neve:
hunts deer with a shotgun. Never sok
him a twelve-guage deer load in my life
But he sure keeps his pot full o’ then
snowshoe rabbits, Ed does.” And, speak
of the Devil—” The store owner nodde
at the door.

Norris was just coming in. “Saw yot
on the street,” he said. “Follered you in
I got to thinkin’, after you left my place.
there’s been something queer about the
Anheiers. Took awhile for me to recollec:
just what; then when I saw your uniform.
I remembered. There's a city feller been
comin’ to see them about every week.
sometimes two, three times a 7 6®

he aske

don’t know as it means anything, bi
figured you ought to know.”

“Thanks, Ed,” Wood said. “Just for
your peace of mind, you're in the clear.
Forget I bothered you, will you?”

“I will,” the old trapper answered, “fo:
one good shotgun shell, to replace the one
you wasted on me this morning.”

The sergeant laughed and tossed a bill
on the counter. “Give him a box,” he said
to the storekeeper. “He’s earned it. A box
of anything he wants—but no ‘punkin
balls.’ ”

Wood reported the story of a “city
feller” who had visited the Anheiers regu-
larly to Inspector DeHollander.

“And I discovered,” the inspector said.
“that there was a call from Rochester to
the Anheier residence last night. A man
wanted to talk to ‘Irene’. I think we're
getting warm.”

N Friday night, a dozen hours after

they had first begun to work on the

case, DeHollander and Wood knew
from a report phoned down from their
colleagues at Clarkson that Mrs. Anheier
had had an admirer in Rochester.

The investigators in Rochester had been
able to identify this man only as “Steve”
and by the fact that he and Mrs. Anheier
had worked together selling vacuum
cleaners.

“Okay, now let’s see what she’s got to
say,” the inspector decided.

Mrs. Anheier was still dazed from the
tragedy, but she was able to answer their

questions. At first she could think of

one with any motive to wish her husbani
death.

“How about Steve, up in Rochester?”

-DeHollander said.

“Steve?” For a moment she seemed
puzzled at the name. Then her eyes
glinted with recognition. “Why, yes.

Steve,” she’ said. “It could have been
him.”

4

) AM. when he
ck in the bed-
hat Estelle was
ibered that the

Shrugging out
ien he got over
telle was quite
er tap and got

lyn home and
2 side entrance
ter’s relay box
‘ellar entrance,

> small bulb on
intruder came

at are you do-

zard the mum-
* she thought.
naybe, at last,

to the window,
st, and looked

‘ather smallish
ront walk and
a neighboring
sperate, moan-

\ his back with
is white shirt.
d not answer.
his eyes were

ffice, shrieking
or. He raced
e cellar, made
the telephone

the Saskowitz
d “D.O.A.”—
single bullet
he heart that

itieth Precinct
e and Harry

officers what

Nag

ae ln

THE LAW AT WORK—

AEM

Brooklyn policemen searching for clues in basement of the home of Morris Saskowitz, the murder victim.

she could. ‘Through grief-glazed eyes, she looked at Drake, a
broad-shouldered, muscular cop who stood nearly five feet 11
inches tall, and then said the man she saw running from the base-
ment was much smaller—no more than five six or eight, weighing
«maybe 130 or 140 pounds. ; aed

“He had dark, curly hair and wore a light-gray suit,” she re-
membered through the numbness of her tragedy. “Oh, yes! As he
ran, I noticed his shoes. Those black-and-white sports shoes you
see around, I didn’t get too good a look at him. I might recog-
nize his face if I saw it again, but I'm... I’m not sure, now.”

Drake was deeply perplexed. “A murder in a man’s own cellar
at nine in the morning!” he said. “Who knew he was in the base-
ment? Could the killer have been hiding there?”

Lichtblau looked inferentially at Estelle. “It’s possible,” he
agreed, “that someone was lurking there, waiting until Miss Sas-
kowitz would be left alone. But somehow I doubt that’s what
actually happened. That kind of prowler’s usually_a rat who'll
run to keep from getting caught. He'll fight only if he’s cor-
nered, and the murderer in this case wasn’t cornered, From the
position of the body, he must have been standing between Sas-
kowitz and the door, which indicates that he followed ‘his victim
into the cellar.” ald }

Lichtblau questioned Estelle again. Haltingly she told the de-
tectives she had been bothered by no meps had noticed no one
following her or eyeing her in a distasteful manner,

“Then try to tell us,” Lichtblau urged, “if your father had any
personal enemy, or someone in business, perhaps, who had reason
to hate him.” ei Oia .

“Please!” the young woman: pleaded.. “I can’t go on like this.
Get my brother Harry. He’s at the garage, over on First. Avenue
in Manhattan.” | ‘ :

Drake phoned the Fifth Street stationhouse in Manhattan to
ask that officers be sent to the Saskowitz garage to break: the news
of his father’s murder to the son, and to bring young Harry Sas-
kowitz to Brooklyn. Meanwhile, the two detectives returned to
the basement, where the medical examiner was completing. his
on-the-scene work. ;

“Nothing for us but the bullet, I suppose?” Drake asked.

“Yes, there is,” Dr. George Ruger said. “May be important,
too. I didn’t touch it.”
Beneath the victim’s arm the medical examiner indicated a

/ ‘wristwatch with a metal band.

Drake looked puzzled. “Important, Doc? Isn’t it Saskowitz’s?”

Doctor Ruger shook his head. “No marks on his wrist to show
he ever wore a strapwatch. And we found this in the dead man’s
trouser watch. pocket.”

The medical examiner held up a platinum timepiece strung on
a handsome silver chain. “Found these, too,” Doctor Ruger went
on, displaying a diamond ring, a set of silver cufflinks, four dol-
lars in bills, a little change and a set of keys.

The detectives inspected the watch, ring and cufflinks. A rob-
ber, they were certain, would not have left these items behind.

Then Drake knelt and picked up the wristwatch by sliding a
handkerchief beneath it. It looked new.

Harry, Saskowitz could imagine no reason for his father’s mur-
der. Morris Saskowitz was a widower, a prosperous businessman,
lived comfortably in a fashionable, quiet neighborhood, had few
close personal acquaintances and surely no enemies.

“He didn’t go around-much,” the son said. “I managed his
garage for him. He came there every day—mostly, I think, to
sort of feel he was still being useful, which he was, actually. This
is so senseless that I don’t know where to begin to try to think
how. or why it could. happen.”

_“No.trouble around the. garage?”

Drake was thinking that all through Prohibition, then just -

drawing to its end in 1933, a lot of mobsters lived down on Man-
hattan’s Lower East Side, and stored their machines in conveni-
ently nearby places. He mentioned this to the son.

“We haven’t got any of that business,” Harry said emphatically.
“Those guys go for places they control. We’ve never had any
dealings with them.”

“Any labor trouble?”

“Almost never. Nothing important, anyhow. A couple of men
fired in the past year or so. Pop caught a mechanic drunk on the
job one. day—the guy smashed a fender on a new Cadillac, try-
ing- to move it around a pillar—and (Continued on page 34)

scribbled the fol-

ye ready Friday,
Advise. Sasko-

trick,” said the
o stall for time.
u get an answer

easure, Drake ar-
ive guard Sasko-

k to his office, he
fice division at
ind asked for De-

‘n the latter came
ter start growing
little job for you
”

2 of whose spe-
sonation of East
“Okay,” he said.
yut I'll stop shav-

the 11th of June,
sement appeared
the Daily Mirror.
for a reply.

ent. Still no word
ious extortionist,
whether he had

3 were put to rest.
brought the mail
itz saw a plain
ch his name was
jously he tore it
itained.

oney in a box and
ymeone will come
ive a bundle for
L again, if you tell
you. If this is a
jon’t receive the
‘our prayers.

you. At least you
» so far. Stay in
19 o'clock. Next
of the money the

icy shudder go
few hours before
n in the hands of
rined to deal him
had met. Between
yective victim was
- all the ingenuity

Detective Drake
\ red spot of ex-
cheeks when he
around his jaw

“tomorrow’s the
you here at 7:30
There’ s no telling

his office and laid
“s work. He ar-

James Sweeney
be on hand at the
to Detective Ryder
im at 6 o’clock the
Drake went home.
ght in the eastern
at Ryder’s house.
tly with his finger-

r the door opened.
man with a brown-
a carpet. Pores,
ted his face. He
-s with patches at
cuffs. His shirt
with grease marks

witrteMMMM RT esi 0 8 ue isd wai oti ¥ saree.

along the collar. But the crowning touch
was the appearance of the shoes. Their
heels were sloping crescents, the toes
knobby bulges and one sole flapped
loosely.

The brown beard parted and white
teeth flashed in a grin. “Got a nickel for
a cup of coffee, mister?”

Drake smiled back. “You almost smell
authentic,” he said.

By 7:30 the detectives were at Sasko-
witz’s garage. Drake put on a grease-
stained mechanic’s jumper and took up a
post where he could watch Saskowitz’s
office.

Ryder blended perfectly into the back-
ground of the East Side street. He sat
huddled on a tenement stoop across the
way, one of the many shabby characters
that drifted out of the Bowery lodging
houses for a bit of morning sunshine,

Detective Sweeney appeared on the
scene, He was dressed in a natty chauf-
feur’s uniform and lolled against the side
of a big sedan.

When Detective Names arrived, he
was given a pair of overalls and placed
inside the garage.

With everyone at their posts, the next
move was up to the mysterious letter
writer. Saskowitz was nervous as he
sat in his office. From time to time he
cast apprehensive glances at Detective
Drake who sat on the bumper of a
limousine paring his nails, Drake smiled
back at him reassuringly.

The hours passed and nothing hap-
pened. The detectives, glued to their
posts, were patient. They were experi-
enced men and they knew how to play a
waiting game.

Saskowitz had his lunch brought in to
him and stayed at his desk. The detec-
tives stayed hungry. Finally at 2 o’clock
in the afternoon a boy in knee breeches
paused at the threshold of the garage
ramp. He had a letter in his hand.

pe LOOKING for Mr. Saskowitz,”
he said to Drake. The detective
jerked a thumb to the office. “Thanks,”
said the boy and went inside. He handed
Saskowitz the letter. The garage owner’s
hands trembled as he opened it.

“Give this boy the package for Mary.
If he is followed it will be just too bad.
Do what we say and you won’t have to
worry, but if you double-cross us we'll
get your whole family. If you don’t be-
lieve me, just follow the kid.”

Casually Drake sauntered into the of-
fice. Saskowitz showed him the letter.

“Give the boy the package,” advised
Drake.

Saskowitz went to the safe, twirled the
knob and swung open the heavy door. He
took out a five-inch long package wrapped
in brown paper and handed it to the boy.
The youngster took it and left.

Drake stood by the street entrance and
pointed to the boy. Ryder got up from
the stoop and shuffled after him.

Drake then got in his car and followed.

Sweeney and Names started the sedan
and fell in behind Drake.

The street was crowded with pedestri-
ans. School children were coming out
and swarms of jostling, shouting boys
and girls pushed eagerly along. Ryder,
with his broken down shoes, followed the
white-shirted youth with the package.

At the corner of Third street the boy
turned. He went as far as Avenue’A and
made another turn. Along Avenue A to
Delancey .street, from Delancey to
Broome street he trudged. Drake and

the others in cars dropped behind as they
were blocked by traffic snarls. Ryder
was far ahead. At the corner of Broome
street, the boy stopped and looked around.
A second later a figure darted from a
tenement doorway, caught up with the
boy and snatched the bundle from his
hands. Without a pause in his stride, the
figure ran down Broome street.

“Ryder sprinted after him. He saw the
man was hatless and had a tangle of
curly hair. The detective reached for his
revolver, pointed it at the sky and pulled
the trigger. At the not unfamiliar sound
of gunfire, the East Side street was
thrown into an uproar. Ryder looked
like a crazed hobo as he waved his re-
volver in the air. Pedestrians ducked for
shelter. The street began to clear.

ROM Broome to Norfolk street ran

the curly-haired man. Pushcart ped-
diers stared at him in amazement, then
ducked as they saw Ryder coming. At
the corner Ryder risked another shot.
The sound of gunfire seemed to upset the
fugitive. He hesitated and Ryder gained.

The curly-haired man, his face now livid
with fear, started off toward Grand street.

People were leaning from windows
shouting hysterically. Ryder levelled his
gun at the fugitive. The bullet went wild
and crashed through the windshield of
a parked car.

The shattering glass unnerved the run-
ning man. He slowed down and Ryder
shouted:

“You get the next one!”

With that Ryder aimed at the small of

the man’s back. The fugitive must have

felt the bead being drawn on him, for a
second later he came to a dead stop and
held up his hands,

Ryder was on him in a second. He
jammed his pistol into his ribs, and seized
the tell-tale brown package.

An angry, excited crowd gathered on
the corner. Somebody yelled “holdup,”
and a milk bottle crashed in the street.

Luckily Detectives Drake, Sweeney

-and Names were not far behind. . They

had jumped from their cars and; had
taken up the chase on foot. They pushed
through the crowd and explained that

- Ryder was a detective, not a thug.

The officers then made their way back
to their cars and with the curly-haired
man in handcuffs sped to the East Fifth
street police station. In the confusion
the 14-year-old boy had disappeared.

Once at the precinct, wt went to a
quiet office in the rear. hey sat the
fugitive down and began to question him.

“What’s your name?”

“Louis Lazar,” he said.

“What's in the package?”

The man looked up, licked his dry lips.
“Five thousand dollars,” he said weakly.

Drake ripped the package open. A
handful of newspaper clippings fell on
the desk. Lazar’s eyes widened, his
cheeks flushed in anger.

Before he could speak, Drake pressed
the advantage.

“What made you try to shake down
Saskowitz?”

“T needed the money and I thought I
could scare him into paying.”

“But why him in particular?”

Lazar fidgeted. “Well. I knew his
father was knocked off a couple of years
ago and I thought he would be frightened
and come across with the money.”

“And the kid—was he with you in
this?”

“No—I didn’t know him at all. I just

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picked him up coming out of school and
asked him to do an errand for me.”

Drake was sizing up his man, playing
with him until he could catch him off his
guard.

“In your letter you said that one of
your men killed his father.”

Lazar made a gesture of denial. “No,
no. I don’t know anything about that.
I only wanted to get money from this
one.”

But Drake was insistent. “You know
a lot about the way his father was killed,
don’t you?”

“Only what I read in the papers.”

Drake lowered his voice to a confi-
dential tone. “Then you know we found
your watch, Lazar.”

Instinctively the man’s eyes dropped to
his wrist.

To Drake it was a give-away. No one
had mentioned the watch was not of the
pocket variety, nor was it known outside
of police circles.

With this slip on the part of Lazar, the
detectives went to work with renewed
intensity. The man was taken to Brook-
lyn police headquarters and the wrist-
watch that had caused so much specula-
tion in the case two years before was
taken from the property clerk’s files and
brought to Captain John F. McGowan’s
office at the homicide bureau where Lazar
was being held.

Tyke put the watch on the pris-
oner’s wrist. Beads of perspiration
broke out on the man’s forehead as the
band snapped shut. It fitted per-
fectly.

Then police began to dig up a list of
Lazar’s friends, relatives and acquain-
tances.

It was learned that on the day after the
murder of Morris Saskowitz, Lazar had
sent his white shoes out to be dyed black.
Then a friend of his was located who said
he had loaned Lazar a watch he never had
returned.

Lazar’s friend later identified the watch
as his.

Lazar was subjected toa more gruelling

/

apa XIX

at i

M JANUARY 8
if

questioning. In one of the brief respites,
Drake spoke kindly to the prisoner.

“Why don’t you tell the truth?” he said.
“All we want is the name of the man
who killed Morris Saskowitz.”

Lazar, pale and shaken by his ordeal
nodded. “All right, I’ll tell you.” He
paused and bowed his head. “I did.”

“What did you do with the gun?” de-
manded Drake.

“TI threw it in the East River.”

As if a mental dam had given way be-
fore the torrent of pent-up emotions that
raged within him, Lazar blurted out the
story of how he had murdered Morris
Saskowitz.

“Saskowitz owed me money on a
painting bill and I was sore at him for
not paying. I went over there in the
morning and waited across the street
until I saw him go into the cellar. I
sneaked downstairs where the old man
was fixing the furnace. I hit him with
the butt of my gun but he did not fall. I
hit him again and again and still he stood
up. We fought and I was scared the
noise would bring the neighbors, so I
fired one shot at him and he fell. He must
have torn the: watch from my wrist dur-
ing the fight.

“He slumped down in a heap with a
funny look on his face and I ran out.”

Questioned as to why he had attempted
to harass the family a second time, Lazar
said:

“IT got sore and decided I wanted some
money for settlement of the bill. So I
thought I could get it from the old man’s
son. Everything looked all right until
the kid gave me the bundle.”

With this confession the case against
Lazar was clinched. He was indicted for
murder and in October, 1935, he went to
trial. He was convicted and sent to the
death house. His case was reviewed by
the court of appeals. Finding a technical
error in the Judge’s charge, the higher
court ordered a new trial. In July 1936

Lazar again was convicted for the second
time and entered the’ death house.

On the night of January 15, 1937, the
curly-haired killer was executed in the
electric chair at Sing Sing prison.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong number!”

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know you've kil
Missus Hastings

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But the handy
ran into the hote

In the lobby }

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Hastings is mur:

Major Kent s
from the man’s tr
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Ten minutes |]
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Major Kent, esp:
the season, create:
among the few gi
action of Stewart,
set tongues to wa
who often went c
off season, when :
exactly where she
to be an easy-goij
given to spells o
the whole she wa
ticularly gifted i:
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about to lose the
to be heavily mor
paying expenses,
summers, so the s
But where did
picture?) Known
in years gone by:
ous affairs of the
of active service
seemed too much
wife to be though
affair with the thc
unromantic Mrs.
No, they agree
nocent this time.
Hastings to Washi
Falling into one
the woman sudde


LAZAR, Louis, white, elec. NY (Kings) January 14, 1937.

Rey ey
Bee Bike 3

22

CONFIDENT |

KILLER By BOB WICKS

A killer’s ego prompted him to try to
extort money from his victim’s son.

And that proved to be his downfall!

LOUIS LAZARE— ‘
He forgot that the Law never sleeps. And that lapse
resulted in his own “big sleep” in the electric chair

-

CRIME DETECTIVE,
February, 1951.

ORRIS SASKOWITZ knew that: it was 9 a.m. when he
heard the muted jangle of an alarm clock in the bed-
room of his daughter Estelle. It meant that Estelle was
getting up, and suddenly Morris remembered that the
hot-water heater was out of order again. . Shrugging out

of his jacket, he vowed to remember, this time, when he got over
to Manhattan, to call the man to fix it, for Estelle was quite
naturally disturbed when she turned on the shower tap and got
only an icy spray.

Morris went out the front door of his Brooklyn home and
turned back along the narrow walk that led to the side entrance
of his basement. He was stooping over. the heater’s relay box
when a shadow blotted out the light from the cellar entrance,
open behind him..

Saskowitz stood up. In the dim light from the one small bulb on
the basement ceiling, he saw a man, but until the intruder came
close, Morris could not make out his features. :

Suddenly he stiffened. “You!” he growled. “What are you do-
ing here?” !

“You know what I want,” came the gruff reply.

Upstairs in her room, pretty, brunette Estelle heard the mum-
ble of voices in the cellar. “That heater. again!” she thought.
“Dad’s probably tussing like a stevedore. Now, maybe, at last,
he’ll have it—” ;

A sharp report startled her. She slipped quickly to the window,

- knotting a dressing gown around her shapely waist, and looked

down.
A man came running out the cellar door, a rather smallish

- man, hatless, dressed in gray. He darted to the front. walk and
_ sped up Ocean Parkway, lost to sight beyond a neighboring

dwelling. From the basement Estelle heard a desperate, moan-
ing cry. ‘

Therg in the gloom she found her father, lying on his back with
a large bloodstain spreading over the front of his white shirt.
Estelle shook him, screaming his name, but he did not answer.
He did not seem to know she was there, ‘although his eyes were

‘open and he was still breathing.

Estelle streaked across the street to a doctor’s office, shrieking
for help.as she hammered at the physician’s door. He raced
back with her to where Morris Saskowitz lay in the cellar, made
a brief examination, then sent the girl dashing to the telephone
to call an ambulance,

HEN Patrolman Walter F. Matter reached the Saskowitz
residence, the ambulance intern’s report read “D.O.A.”—
dead on arrival. The neighborhood doctor said a single bullet

. had ‘crashed through Saskowitz’s chest so near the heart that

death came.only a matter of minutes later.

Matter called his lieutenant at Brooklyn’s Seventieth Precinct
Sstationhouse and asked: for detectives. Bill Drake and Harry
Lichtblau took the assignment. .

Estelle was stunned, but-despite her shock told the officers what

Brook

she co
broad-s
inches
ment wv
«maybe
“He
membe
ran, I}
see aro
nize hi
Drak
at nine
ment?
: Lich:
= agreed,
kowitz
actuall\
Tun to
nered,
positior
kowitz
into th:
9 Lich:
4 tectives
followi
“The
person:
to hate
“Plez
Get my
pe in Mar
fe Drak
* ask tha
of his {
3 kowitz
B' the ba:
4 on-the-
a “Not

|
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i
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|
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i
{
H
v

108 New York City, 1664-1710

Cortlandt proclaim the new monarchs at City Hall. Van Cort-
landt declined. lamely arguing that the captain had already made
public the decree. The mayor's hesitation made the old leader-
ship vulnerable to Leisler’s immediate charges of treason and
popery, and ended ail possibility of halting the revolt. At the
end of June. Leisler md himself of the bothersome municipal
government by cautioning the aldermen against holding a
Mayor's Court session scheduled for July 2; the frightened
judges heeded the warning and did not meet again for almost
two years.*°

A Committee of Safety composed of the insurgent leadership
named Leisler captain of the fort on June 8 and on August 16
declared him to be commander in chief of the province. In
December. Leisler took possession of instructions which arrived
from King William addressed *‘To our Trusty and welbeloved
Francis Nicholson Esquire and Lieut. Governor and Commander
in Chief our Province of New York in America and in his ab-

_ sence to such as for the time being take care for Preserving the

Peace and administring the Lawes in our said Province of New
York in America.’* The letter authorized the recipient **to take
upon you the Government of the said Province,’’ and Leisler
thereafter styled himself Lieutenant Governor.*®

Jacob Leisler was a predictable type of leader for this in-
surgency. The circumstances naturally thrust forward a man
who had once been near the center of power in the province but
in later days had found himself more often at its edges. Leisler
had long feuded with the ruling clique, and he had a self-serving
mental outlook which enabled him to equate his personal foes
with the enemies of God.

*° **Van Cortlandt to Andrus,’ 595-96.

“6 **Commission from the Committee of Safety Appointing Jacob Leisler to
be Captain of the Fort,’” June 8, 1689; **Commission to Captain Leisler to be

Commander in Chief.” Aug. 16, 1689, DHNY, Il, 11, 23; ‘*William HI to
Lieutenant Governor Nicholson.’ July 30, 1689, DRNY. III, 606.

Leisler’s Rebellion 109

As a marginal leader. locally prominent but without real
power, Leisler resembled the spokesmen of other late seven-
teenth century uprisings against colonial administrations. The
similarities between prominent Leislerians, kcy figures of Na-
thaniel Bacon’s rebellion in Virginia, the coterie around John
Coode in Maryland, and those Massachusetts merchants who
supported the revocation of the Bay Colony’s charter are
noteworthy. But generalizations which classify these phenomena
as clashes between competing elites are not sufficient. Any anal-
ysis which focuses on the leadership of the forces involved in a
political conflict will inevitably produce a description of a di-
vided elite, and usually members of one of the contending
groups will emerge as “*peripheral’” or **marginal.”” .

The differences between Leisler and the other rebels of the
late seventeenth century are more important than their similari-
ties. Nathaniel Bacon was a young man who found his hopes of
making a fortune thwarted by the vested interest ot Virginia's
already sated leadership. John Coode was an ambitious Protes-
tant latecomer to Maryland, who in pursuing his dream of suc-
cess ran afoul of an entrenched Catholic elite. Massachusetts ’s
merchants had already gained economic dominance in the prov-
ince, but found their path to political control blocked by the old
Puritan leadership.*‘

Jacob Leisler was not a man on the way up who found an
older group of leaders impeding his progress. He was a repre-
sentative of an earlier elite which latecomers had bypassed.

aid Wilcomb E. Washburn, The Governor and the Rebel: A History of Ba-
con's Rebellion in Virginia (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1957), pp. 17, 18; Bernard
Bailyn, **Politics and Social Structure in Virginia,’ in James M. Smith. ed.
Seventeenth-Century America (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1959), p. 103; Michael G.
Kammen, *‘The Causes of the Maryland Revolution of 1689.” Maryland His-
torical Magazine, LV (Dec. 1960), 293-324; Lots Green Carr and David
William Jordan, Maryland's Revolution of Government, 1689 1692 (Ithaca,
N.Y., 1974), ch. 1; Bailyn, New England Merchants, ch. 7.


110 New York City, 1664-1710

Leisler’s status had fallen because his affiliations with the Dutch
were no longer of use in a colony owned by the English.

Born in Frankfurt am Main in 1640, Leisler migrated to New
Amsterdam as a twenty-year-old soldier with the Dutch West
India Company. He was the son of a minister, Jacob Victorius
Leyssler. the Calvinist pastor of Bockenheim, and_ probably
grew up in a more substantial situation than his modest status
upon arrival in America implied. The Leysslers sent Jacob's
brother to the University of Geneva, which indicates that the
family enjoyed at least a modicum of economic success as well
as the social prestige associated with the ministry.*

On April 11, 1663. Leisler established himself as one of the
city’s most notable residents by marrying Elsje Tymens, the
widow of the wealthy merchant, Pieter Cornelisen Van der
Veen. The marriage provided him with capital to trade in furs.
tobacco, and wines, and he soon gained a place among the com-
munity’s most affluent members. During the Dutch reoccupation
in 1673-1674 Leisler’s estate was assessed at 15,000 florins,
making him the sixth richest man in town.*®

Through his marriage Leisler became an in-law of the: fore-
most families in the province, including the Loockermans,
Bayards, and Van Cortlandts. An ambitious latecomer with ten-
uous connections to the elite, Leisler managed to reach the pe-

*8 Stanley M. Pargellis. “Jacob Leisler.”’ Dictionary of American Biogra-
phy (New York, 1933). VI. 156-57; Edwin Ruthven Purple, Genealogical
Notes Relating to Lieut.-Gov. Jacob Leisler and His Family Connections in
New York (New York. 1877). p. 7; Charies W. Baird, *‘The Birthplace and
Parentage of Jacob Leisier.’” Magazine of American History, I] (Aug. 1878),
94,

*® Purple. Genealogical Notes . . . Leisler, p. 7; Pargellis, ‘*Jacob Leis-
ler.’* pp. 156-57; James Grant Wilson, The Memorial History of the City of
New York (New York, 1893). 1, 129. Only Frederick Philipse (80.000), Cor-
nelius Steenwyck (50.000), Nicholas De Meyer (50,000), Oloff Stevensen
Van Cortlandt (45,000), and Jeronimus Ebbingh (30,000) had more florins
than Leisler.

a a ae
ee

Leisler's Rebellion ill

riphery but not the center of the colonial power structure.
Doubtless his contentious personality alienated his in-laws and
slowed his progress. When Govert Loockermans, his wife's
stepfather, died without a will in 1671, the newcomer engaged
the Bayards and the Van Cortlandts in extended litigation for
possession of the estate. By 1689 the outcome still remained in
doubt, but Leisler had gained control of the Loockerman lands
on Manhattan.°°

Calvinist by birth and belief. Leisler felt little charity for less
rigorous Protestants and none for Catholics. He often perceived
tendencies toward heterodoxy in his personal adversaries.
Leisler displayed this ability. to combine motives as early as
1675 when he accused of heresy an Albany minister. Nicholas
Van Rensselaer, with whose family he was feuding. Van Rens-
selaer, though serving a Dutch Reformed congregation. had
been ordained in England by the Anglican Bishop of Salis-
bury.*!

Despite these conflicts, Leisler played a continuing role in
public affairs. He served as a mediator in the legal system of
New Amsterdam and as a deacon of the Reformed Church. Dur-
ing the Dutch reoccupation of 1673-1674, Leisler was ap-
parently close to Governor Anthony Colve, who placed him on
a five-man commission to assess the estates of Manhattan's
most affluent citizens for tax purposes.°* His relationship with

3° Purple, Genealogical Notes . . . Leisler, pp. 7, 32: Purple, ** Varleth
Family,’ Contributions to the History of Ancient Families of New Amsterdam
and New York (New York, 1881), pp. 11-12; L. Effingham De Forest. The
Van Cortlandt Family (New York, !930), p. 4; Mariana Griswold (Mrs.
Schuyler) Van Rensselaer, History of the City of New York in the Seventeenth
Century (New York, 1909), II, 370, 470.

31 Van Rensselaer, History of New York, Il, 182-85.

32 Lawrence H. Leder, ‘‘Jacob Leisler and the New York Rebellion of
1689-1691’" (Master's thesis, New York University, 1950), p. 3; Edwin T.

Corwin and Hugh Hastings, eds., Ecclesiastical Records of the State of New
York (Albany, 1901), Il, 800; Wilson, Memorial History, 1, 129.


112 New York City, 1664-1710

the English authorities was not strong, but he remained locally
prominent as the captain in command of one of the island's SIX
companies of militia.

Leisler, like other local leaders who were not close associates
of Governor Andros. suffered a loss of influence under the
Dominion of New England. He resented the new government
and during his rebellion wrote disparagingly to England of its
narrow distribution of political power. Characteristically he
came to see the New Yorkers who supported the Dominion as
hypocrites “‘who under the appearance of the functions of the
Protestant Religion, remain still affected to the Papist.”” *° Leisler
was convinced that his opponents were engaged in a plot against
God and King, and he equated his own success with the salva-
tion of true Christianity in New York.

Various considerations. including allegiance to relatives, mo-
tivated Leisler’s aides. Jacob Milborne, who stood at Leisler’s
side in the heresy controversy over Van Rensselaer, returned
from a voyage to Europe in August 1689 and joined the rebel-
lion. A widower, he married the captain’s daughter Mary the
following year. Milborne, whose Baptist beliefs differed from
those of New York’s Anglican establishment, had occasionally
clashed with the provincial government, and had once success-
fully sued Andros in England for false arrest. Samuel Edsall.
Milborne’s former father-in-law, served as Queens County's
representative to Leisler’s council, and his connection with the
rebel commander may have gained his three sons-in-law, Ben-
jamin Blagge, Pieter De La Noy, and William Lawrence, their
seats in that body.*?

33 “T ieutenant Governor Leisler and Council to the Bishop of Salisbury,”
Jan. 7, 1690; *‘Captain Leisler to King William and Queen Mary,’” Aug. 20,
1689, DRNY, Ill, 654-55, 615.

34 Purple. Genealogical Notes . . . Leisler, p. 12; Osgood, American Col-
onies, Il, 459: Van Rensselaer. History of New York, 1, 241; Hamilton Fish,
Anthon Genealogy (New York. 1930), pp. 55-56.

Leisler’s Rebellion 113

Despite the participation of a few Englishmen, the leadership
of the rebellion was unmistakably Dutch. Judging by those who
stood trial with Captain Leisler when the rebellion collapsed in
1691. his closest associates were all Dutch. Usually survivors or
descendants of New Amsterdam, these men found it difficult or

impossible to adjust to the new social order which developed in

the aftermath of the English conquest of the city.

Pieter De La Noy. New York’s only elected mayor prior to
the nineteenth century and a member of Leisler’s council, eml-
grated from Haarlem in the Netherlands and in 1680 married
Elizabeth De Potter, the widow of Isaac Bedlow, a member of
an old New Amsterdam family. After being widowed he later
married the daughter of Samuel Edsall. Abraham Gouverneur.
born in 1671 and the town clerk during the revolt, was the son
of Nicholas Gouverneur. a prominent Netherlands merchant
who had traded with New Amsterdam. The young man’s
mother, Machteldt De Riemer, was the daughter of an es-
tablished Manhattan family and remained a resident of the 1S-
land after the English conquest. The physician Samuel Staats.
who also served on Leisler’s council, was the classic example of
a New Netherlander drawn to the rebellion. The son of Major
Abraham Staats, Samuel left the colony when the English ar-
rived in 1664 and returned only after the Prince of Orange
landed in England.*°

But the existence of this *‘peripherai elite’? does not explain
the broad-based support for its challenge to authority. Ordinary
citizens will respond to such a call only to the extent that they
have grievances which are congruent with those of the dissident
principals. Leisler’s Rebellion succeeded because it strongly ap-
pealed to the mass of the Dutch population of New York City.

35 Fish, Anthon Genealogy. pp. 55-56, W. E. De Riemer, The De Riemer
Family (New York, 1905), pp. 7~8; Jonathan Pearson, **Staats Genealogy,”
NYGB Rec., I (July (871), 140-41.

114 New York City, 1664-1710

Nicholas Bayard. who fared weil under the English regime and
became the chief antagonist of Leisler and his followers during
and after the uprising. persistently claimed that the insurgents
were merely “‘a parcel of ignorant and innocent people, almost
none but of the Dutch nation.’ Leisler won their support, ac-
cording to Bayard. with assurances that William would end En-
glish administrative control of New York and would directly
control the colony as his own Dutch fief. Bayard’s hatred of the
rebel leader probably distorted his outlook, but he did have an
insight into the nature of the conflict. Indeed, Leisler had even
chosen Fort Amsterdam as the new name of the stronghold at
the southern tip of the island. Leisler was sensitive to these
charges and tried to deny them, but all indications, including
even the sharp decline in participation at the Reformed Church
following the pastor's denunciation of the captain, show deep
Dutch involvement in the revolt.*°

The accession of the Prince of Orange had inspired Dutch
New Yorkers and led them to reassert themselves. This took the
form of a dual uprising, in defense of certain unassailable insti-
tutions, but against some of the persons most closely associated
with their support.?7 In Leisler’s Rebellion, Dutch New York-
ers. members of a Reformed church, overthrew their English
Anglican government in the name of the English crown and its
Episcopal religion, a seeming paradox made rational by their at-
fectionate identification with the new monarch. In regard to the

36 **Cylonel Bayard’s Narrative of Occurrences in New York. From April
to December. 1689,’° Dec. 13. 1689, DRNY, III, 639; **Leisler’s Proclama-
tion Confirming the Election by the Citizens of the Mayor, Sheriff, Clerke,
and Common Council of New York,’’ Oct. 14, 1689; **A Memoriall of What
Has Occurred in Their Maties Province of New York Since the News of Their
Majties Happy Arrivall in England,”’ n.d., DHNY, I, 35, 58.

37 George F. Rudé. The Crowd in History: A Study of Popular Disturbances
in France and England. 1730-1848 (New York, 1964), ch. 9, discusses simi-
lar phenomena.

Leisler's Rebellion 115

basic issues, the opponents were in fact indistinguishable. In-
deed, the inability of the contending factions. the Leislerians
and the Anti-Leislerians, to identify themselves except by refer-
ence to the protagonist suggests that they found difficulty in
defining their differences. Despite mutual accusation of hypoc-
risy, both groups shared an allegiance to the Glorious Revolu-
tion and Protestantism.

The existence of serious divisions among the city’s leaders
gave colonial New Yorkers a rare opportunity to choose their
spokesmen rather than to deter to the wishes of a unified, recog-
nized elite, and thus the rebellion began. [t was the product not
of a conspiracy to restore Dutch rule, but rather of the resent-
ment of the many Dutch citizens who had not been able to
succeed within the new English order. Leisler and his followers
appealed to those longing for older, better days.

Leisler tried to bring ail opponents of the Dominion of New
England under his aegis. Although he reserved commissions as
justices of the peace. sheriffs, and militia officers almost exclu-
sively for Dutchmen in New York City and the communities of
the Hudson Valley north to Albany, Leisler frequently offered
Englishmen similar positions on Long Island. But despite his
claims to a provincial domain, Leisler’s power did not extend
far beyond the community. The residents of Albany and King-
ston scornfully rejected early overtures to join the movement,
and the former submitted to Leisler’s authority only after the In-
dian massacre at.nearby Schenectady early in 1690. Relatively
unaffected by the English conquest, Albany and Kingston had
little reason to be attracted to Leisler. Few English immigrants
had gone to those river towns, and the old elites were able to re-
tain their positions and the loyalty of the homogeneous popula-
tions.*8

38 “List of the Commissions {ssued by Lt. Govr. Leisler,”’ Dec. 12, 1689
to Jan. 20, 1691, DHNY. Ul, 347-54; David S. Lovejoy, The Glorious Revolu-


amably lied
to get him
ngers wait-

ie ascended
a fist out at
¢ car, got a
nd returned
twood were

went back
ased by the

ove to the
ich had flat-
to the curb-
ter avenues.
irst refused,

ise his nose °

garage, the
lem to Man-
i a new tire,

they stole one, Then they parked the car
at the 124th street and Pleasant avenue
garage.
Dalton left them and Boltwood, Fitz-
comin and Leonard took a taxi to a
urkish bath where they luxuriated. They
received kneadings and rub downs, went
to sleep and didn’t waken until after noon
on January 5.

_ They dressed, called a taxi and rode
around for a while, buying a newspaper
to find out if their shooting of Dolge had
been reported. The newspaper carried the
story of Dolge’s death and the three
thought it highly amusing that the news-
paper quoted the exact words that Bolt-
wood had used to Dolge.

They told the driver to take them to
the Pleasant avenue garage. There they
found the car was gone. The owner said
the police had taken it but the trio didn’t
believe that story. Thinking Dalton had
tricked them and taken it out, they
ordered the driver to go to one of their
hangouts.

But Dalton was there and they then be-
lieved his denial that he had taken the car.

At this point, according to the story,
Dalton puta hand into one of his pockets
the others knew that anything had been
taken from Dolge. At least, so they
claimed,

“T took that from him,” said Dalton.

“Get rid of it!” the others advised. “It’s
hot stuff.”

Crimson

struck in Portland, the police were not
certain that a crime had even been com-
mitted.

It was near 6 in the evening of Oct. 19,
1927, that a 15-year-old boy, his face
streaked with tears, ran into the Portland
police station. Detectives quieted him and
got him to tell his story. They learned
that he had come home late from school.

“T thought mother must have been out
because she didn’t answer when I called
her,” the boy told them between sobs.
“At first 1 just stayed around the house
and waited for her. After a bit I went
up to the attic to get some of my things.
I opened a trunk and found mother inside
of it. She was dead.”

Detectives hurried to the boy’s home,
only a short way from headquarters, and
found the woman. She was Beata
Withers, a divorcee living on a small
alimony. To increase her income she had
put a sign in the window of her home to
rent one of the rooms. The detectives
did not connect this fact, at first, with her
strange death. There were no bruises or
marks to point to a violent death and they
were inclined to believe at first it might
be suicide.

HILE detectives were pondering
over the case, they were called to
the same neighborhood the following
afternoon, Just two blocks from where
Mrs. Withers’ body had been found in the
trunk, the corpse of Mrs. Virginia Grant
was discovered behind the furnace in-the
basement of her home.
Here again was the same strange clue.
Mrs, Grant had advertised her house for
rent, The detectives found that a coat

Dalton gave the golden-clawed tie pin
to Fitzpatrick. They decided to scatter
but agreed to meet that night at a dance
hall. Dalton was a “special officer” there,
his duties being primarily those of a
bouncer.

That night the three waited for Dalton
to put in his appearance, meanwhile dis-
cussing means of getting rid of the mur-
der gun. When he didn’t show up, they
hit upon the the idea of hiding it on the
top shelf of a closet in the women’s dress-
ing room. ‘

themselves in earnest. They remained
at the hall until early the morning of
January 6. Before leaving the place, how-
ever, they had decided it would be wise to

Tis the trio set about enjoying

keep apart. But they had very little
money.

“How’'ll you get along?” they asked.
“And you?”

“It’s all right with me,” said Leonard.
“I've got along for 21 years, IT guess I
can keep on getting along.”

Fitzpatrick ducked to Springfield and
a few days later Boltwood and Leonard
followed.

“And where's the pin?” the police asked
the three,

Fitzpatrick insisted he had thrown
it away. He'd never been able to find
the spot, he said.

Bitter contradictions and ugly names
were hurled at each other by the three

Trail of the Sex-Mad

{Continued from page 43]

and some jewelry. were missing but to
offset this they also learned that Mrs.
Grant had a weak heart. The lack of any
apparent ph sical violence made it seem
likely that Mrs, Grant had suffered an at-
tack and had died before help reached her.

The Portland police had not yet con-
nected the two deaths with those com-
mitted by the dark atrangler in the
southern cities.

On the third day, however, the case
burst wide open. The body of a third
woman was found in the attic of her
home. A sign in the window advertised
rooms for rent. This time there was no
doubt of murder. She had been choked
with a silk scarf knotted around her
throat.

ETECTIVE LEONARD aggrasped

the similarity between the three
deaths and at the same time it dawned on
him that the dark strangler was in Port-
land. The for rent signs and the strangling
were a trade mark of the killer. A check
revealed that Mrs. Withers had also been
robbed. Her coat and a few pieces of
jewelry were missing. At the insistence
of Detective Leonard the coroner’s office
stirred to life. Autopsies , were made on
the bodies. All three women had been
strangled. And all three had been brutally
raped as they died!

When news of the three sex crimes
reached the public. Portland became a
terrified city. Women refused to answer
their door bells. Guns hung above every
bed. The whole city was on edge waiting
for the next attack of the beastlike killer.

There was a lull following the three
crimes of the fiend, And it was with some

as they related tthe story in the police
station, The biggest battle occurred over
who actually fired the shot that killed
Dolge. They pinned the blame for that
on Leonard.

The four were indicted on January 29,
for murder in the first degree with Dalton
still at large. Nor had he been arrested
by April 7, when the trial of Leonard
started before Bronx County Judge Louis
D. Gibbs.

McGeehan himself prosecuted the case.
Fitzpatrick had turned state’s evidence.
Taking the stand, he testified against
Leonard.

On April 15, the jury began their delib-
erations. Within an hour they returned
a verdict of guilty of murder in the first
degree.

Leonard was sentenced to die in the

electric chair.

Later Boltwood was convicted and
both, after unsuccessful appeals, were
executed on June 22, 1924.

Fitzpatrick was paroled in his own
recognizance, Despite an intensive search,
police never found Dalton—alive. A short
time after Leonard and Boltwood had
paid the death penalty in the electric
chair, Dalton was found dead in Chicago.
He had been shot in a gang war,

The fateful claw-pearl tie pin has yet
to be found. Perhaps it is better that way.
Perhaps the ugly trinket with the beauti-
ful pearl had borrowed some of the
treachery of the famous, ill-omened Hope
diamond.

Strangler

relief that Detective Leonard came te
Seattle to aid in the Monks investigation.
There was no doubt that it was the stran-
gler’s work.

Six days after the Monks slaying in
Seattle came a_ frantic long distance
call from John T. Moore, chief of the
Portland police. He wanted Detective
Leonard.

“Leonard, the strangler is back here
again,” the chief cried over the wire.
“Rush back as fast as you can. He killed
another woman last night and the town
in going crazy!”

The victim was Mrs. Blanche Myers,
48. Answering a sign she had hung in
her window, the strangler had choked her
to death with the strings of a tea apron
she had been wearing.

An autopsy revealed she had been at-
tacked, and a few small pieces of jewelry
were taken. Her mutilated body was
found under a bed in the room she had
wanted to rent. ’

Following the example of Capt. Kent,
Leonard had the entire room sprayed with
the fingerprint powder. The print of a
man’s hand was found on the bedstead. It
was compared to the print found on the
black purse in the Monks’ home. They
were the same.

Detective Leonard and Capt. Kent kept
up their dogged pursuit. The pawnshop
details were doubled by detectives who
kept up a constant search for the jewelry
stolen by the strangler.

On Dec. 1, two days after the Myers
murder, two elderly women came to the
Portland police station. They announced
that they ran a boarding house on Third
street. “We think maybe we know some-
thing about this strangler man,” they said.

59


Giusseppe, wh, elec. NYS (NY) January 24,-1

9355

ING DETECTIVE, January, 1944

Rw

WELL

York City and headed
‘eet it began’ spitting
1 said to the woman:

ill over to the curb.”
ning of April 7, 1922.

od. As he did, a dark
ctory.
ggested to his woman

d from the car. She

the building and ran
his hand and this he
Becker’s companion
s Mrs. Becker’s head.
umped to the ground.
nd carried her across
d in the lot but it had
one corner was a pit

e moaned.

uckled. ‘Once we

el.”

h dirt and rubbish
vic yards, After their
ve and swore a mutual

what they had done.
r paid the other man
‘gers and coffee.
e for the medical ex-
sdical examiner, since
e speedy apprehension
ime.
‘ in conjunction with
‘oroner’s system. Nor
tter. Sometimes they
clerks. Not even a


v beautiful
lose watch
lay a letter
\lattie. It

held from
ind ‘Tulsa,,
ore out of
3 showing
He was
uey when
he learned
ier trail.
{ the fact
Oring was
i = Mattie
» to make
» persuade

st? Who
ian to fall
uty? Or
inals who

funds to.

? If she
ynds and
valuables.
0,000.
rcilates on
‘nt waited
1 the case.
On June
Trinidad,
Vanders
as Frank
‘e. The
admitted
t for the
no. She
Trinidad
hat name
ver from
rk. And
Howard
y.
Mitchell,
er of the
went te
v learned
veillance
in Trini-
cel under
uparison
ity hotel,
had con-
he same ,

‘d her to
ie hotel.
ry detec-
,N.M.
Having
und the
olice en-
nder ar-
lame as
Taylor.
2r under
in bed.

Mattie
gistered
ino was
1e never
te. But
rino she
Kansas
fied her

cr were
‘Taylor.
ttie had
Taylor
red the
d Joe’s
as said
‘nt was

Mattie was the first of the accused
pair to stand trial. Edward J. Curtin,
assistant prosecutor, termed her “the
girl with the agate eyes, whose heart
is as hard as the stone over poor Joe
Morino’s grave.”

She was found guilty of murder in the
second degree and her punishment fixed
at 12 years in the penitentiary. She
appealed the verdict and was released
under $10,000 bond.

The supreme court affirmed her sen-
tence in May, 1921. But she had disap-
peared. Her bondsmen offered $500 re-
ward for her arrest. They sent out circu-
lars describing her as “the most danger-
ous woman in the United States ... who
will be found in the company of bank and
postoffice robbers, leading them in their
crimes ... and is the type who does not
hesitate at murder.”

The bondsmen revealed that Mattie

Howard had duped them. She had shown
them a safe deposit box containing ire
and bonds valued at far more than $10,000,
they said, and had given them the key to
the box. After her disappearance they
opened it and found it contained chunks
of coal, washers and sticks of wood.

While Mattie was at liberty under bond
Taylor was brought to trial. He was
convicted and sentenced to life imprison-
ment. He was in the penitentiary when
Mattie was taken into custody as a sus-
picious character in Memphis, Tenn., in
November, 1921. Her identity established,
she was returned to Kansas City and then
taken to Jefferson City, where she was
“dressed in” at the state penitentiary on
November 18, 1921.

For several years she scorned all prisor.
rules and was constantly getting into
trouble. Then suddenly she took a liking
to a new matron and became a model

prisoner. She was released from prison
a2 17, 1928.

our years later, in October, 1932,
Mattie Howard listened to a radio sermon
by Dan McNally, formerly a convict in
the Missouri penitentiary. At the time
she was employed in the home of a
Denver woman who knew her history and
had agreed to give her a chance to make
good.

The beautiful blonde who had lured
Joe Morino to his death attended subse-
quent services at the religious revival
McNally was conducting and was con-
verted, Now she is an evangelist.

Sam Taylor did not serve a life sen-
tence. When he was paroled, he returned
to Kansas City, was converted, and for
a time was employed as superintendent of
the Helping Hand Institute, a haven for
down-and-outers near Kansas City’s po-
lice headquarters.

Clue Of The Golden Claw “

gave of the men who had assailed Dolge
as he was about to present his commuta-
tion ticket were sketchy and conflicting.

The most conflicting information was
that Dolge had taken a taxicab to the
station.

Through the little black book they dis-
covered that he had passed the evening
with a woman who lived on Union street
in the Bronx.

A bit of detective work had been going
on outside the station, however, even
before the police had been called. It had
happened that Sergeant Albert J. Stroh
and Patrolman Thomas J. Foster were
driving an ancient police flivver by the
Hunt’s Point station on their way to a
a or as the shot that killed Dolge was

red.

A Packard touring car, motor purring,
was parked outside the station. It was
pointed in the opposite direction from the
one in which the officers were headed.

Stroh and Foster noted that there were
two men in the front seat. As two other
men ran toward the car Foster swung
the police flivver around, At that moment,
the Packard pulled away.

The officers yelled at the driver to ‘stop
but his answer was to step on the gas.
Stroh fired three shots and the touring
car put on more speed.

The chase was on. The touring car
increased its speed, whipping up to
75 miles an hour, while the old flivver rat-
tled along behind. With each moment the
Packard gained distance.

Then, all of a sudden, the front wheels
of the police flivver buckled under and
rolled off. The Packard roared away into
the night.

With a mixture of chagrin, disappoint-

[Continued from page 48]

ment, anger and laughter the officers re-
ported their experience. Of course, an
alarm went out immediately for the
Packard car and its four occupants.

The little black book was revealing a
lot of interesting information. As its con-
tents had suggested, the handsome, well-
dressed Dolge was something more than
what his neighbors knew him to be. The
“family man” of Mt. Vernon had for years
lived two lives, one that centered around
his home and the other a gay existence of
bright lights and emotional excitement.

The incident at the party, which had
ended with a black eye for Dolge, was
investigated thoroughly. The girl told a
straightforward story. She hadn't re-
sented Dolge’s attentions that evening
and she hadn’t heard her companion
swear vengeance.

Police talked to the boy friend. He had
been perfectly satisfied with the black eye
he had handed Dolge as a memento of the

arty. The police believed him but they
investigated his story, found out where
he had been on the night of the murder
and then dropped all thought of him in
connection with the slaying.

A thousand tips to the police were in-
vestigated but all led up blind alleys.

The police learned that on the night of
the murder a touring car, trying to make
a sharp turn up the hill at Claremont
parkway and Webster avenue, had hit
the curb and flattened two tires.

One of the occupants of the car, which
contained four men, had suffered a bloody
nose due to the jolt. The car had been
driven to a, garage on Jerome avenue near
170th street, and there the occupants had

fixed the tires. Then they had driven

on.

The police interrogated Dolge’s red-
headed paramour who lived on Union
street and with whom he had passed the
last evening of his life. Finally they had
to give up that angle.

On January 5, police of the auto squad
took a Packard car out of a garage at
Pleasant avenue and 124th street. It had
been stolen in Springfield, Mass., and bore
a Massachusetts license. Questioning
around the garage brought no enlighten-
ing statements—at first. It wasn’t until
January 14 that police learned that one
of the garage hands knew an occupant of
the car. The information the police dug
up was that the garage employe had told
a story of a race between the Packard and
a flivver.

When confronted by detectives, the em-
plexes, laughed.

“Why, yes, the fellow told me that he
raced a flivver the night he brought the
car in and that the wheels of the flivver
buckled and fell off.”

When Bruckman heard the story he
nearly hit the ceiling of his office.

“You got the name of the man who
drove the car in?”

“Sure, Frank J. Fitzpatrick. He lives
on West 124th street,” said the employe.

They visited Fitzpatrick’s home but
were told that he was in Springfield,
Mass., visiting his brother. A few ques-
tions revealed the address in Springfield.

His father wasn’t at all surprised to
see the detectives. In fact he’d been ex-
pecting them.

“I suppose you’ve come about that
traffic violation,” he said. “I know he
didn’t answer it and there’s a warrant out
for his arrest.”

“Yes,” said the officers, ‘that’s why we
want to see him.”

So they wired the Springfield authori-
ties to find Fitzpatrick and hold him on
the traffic charge.

On January 17, Detective Stetter went
to Springfield and saw Fitzpatrick.

“You don’t want to fight extradition,”
said Stetter, “not on an ordinary traffic
charge.”

Fitzpatrick agreed and on January 18,
Stetter and Fitzpatrick rode to New York
on a train.

Fitzpatrick was only 21, not a bad look-
ing boy, and he and Stetter got along ex-
cellently, Stetter took his charge to the

57


Alexander avenue police station in. the
Bronx where. District Attorney William
McGeehan and Captain Bruckman
awaited the pair. It was there that Fitz-
patrick first learned the police were in-
terested in learning what he had been
doing on the night of the Dolge murder.

The result of their questioning was that
orders for the arrest of John T. Leonard,
Walter B. Boltwood and John Dalton
were issued.

The newspapers learned of Fitzpat-
rick’s arrest as a suspect. A few days
later, they, also carried the story that
Boltwood had been taken into custody,
but shortly thereafter, there was a story
in a Bronx newspaper that Fitzpatrick
had been released because police had been
unable to connect him with the Dolge
case.

It was a trick of the police who wanted
to get Leonard and Dalton. They knew
the quickest way to land Leonard was to
convince him that the “coast was clear.”
Then he would) return to His home.

The ruse worked. On January 24,
Leonard came home. Police were watch-
ing the house when he entered and gave
him an opportunity to see his mother.

But, hidden 300 feet from the front door, ,

they waited for him to leave,

They did not have to wait long. As he
came out the detectives potinced upon
him, pushed him into a car and drove
rapidly away.

At the Bathgate avenue police station
he was Brau face to face with Fitz-
patrick and Boltwood. Police Inspector
Henry Bruckman seated Leonard in a
chair and told him:

“Leonard, you were at the Hunt’s Point
station, January 5. You'd better think
fast and remember what you did that
night and the evening before.”

¢ WAS only a few minutes before the
three youths poured forth the whole
amazing story. A Springfield man had
been in the market for a second-hand
Packard car and Leonard has stolen one.
Fitzpatrick told Leonard to take the car
to Springfield. So Leonard, with Fitz-
patrick, Dalton and Boltwood, drove the
stolen car to Springfield, offered it to
Fitzpatrick’s prospect for $200, got $125
in cash-and played around for a few days
in Springfield.

They didn’t like the idea of going back
to New York on the train.

; “Okay,” said Leonard. “You came up
in a car and you'll ride back in one.”

Leonard picked up a car in Springfield,
a fairly new Packard, and on they sped
to the big city. As they drove, the four
were confronted with the discouraging
fact that there was little money among
them. Long before they were able to see
the glow of lights over Manhattan, they
had decided they must replenish their
funds, They had agreed to a holdup when
the opportunity presented itself.

They stopped their car in front of a
saloon at Union and Westchester ave-
nues and Dalton and Boltwood went into
the saloon. At the bar was Dolyge, drink-
ing beer.

Dalton and Boltwood stood around and
had a.few drinks. When they returned to
the car both were excited.

“There’s a guy in there with a diamond
ring as big as an electric light bulb. You
ought to see it. Nearly blinded me.”

“Let’s get him!” :

Who said those words was a matter of
violent arguinent among the three telling

58 ‘

the story to the police, Fitzpatrick and
Boltwood pinned them on Leonard.

At any rate, they all agreed to “get
him” and they sat in the parked Packard,
motor running, until Dolge emerged from
the saloon. Their prospective victim
walked to Prospect and Westchester
avenues where ‘he took a taxicab. They
followed and the cab drove up in front of
the Hunt’s Point station.

Dolge paid and tipped the driver. As
he got out and even before the taxicab
pulled away, the Packard had likewise
stopped at the station. .

Boltwood and Leonard followed Dolge
through the little-alleyway on which the
stairs leading to the station open. It was
Boltwood who approached Dolge and
accused him of failing to pay the taxi
driver.

They had wanted Dolge to become so
{rate that he would go up and argue

with the driver who had presumably lied
about the fare. They wanted to get him
out of sight of the other passengers wait-
ies, in the train.

hey upbraided Dolge as he ascended
the stairs and he finally shot a fist out at
Boltwood. Leonard ran to the car, got a
revolver from a side pocket and returned
to the stairs. Dolge and Boltwood were
still struggling.

Leonard fired and the pair went back
to the car, They were then chased by the
police flivver.

From the station they drove to the
garage and fixed the tires which had flat-
tened when the car skidded into the curb-
stone at Claremont and Webster avenues.
At the garage Leonard at first refused

to get out of the car because his nose ©

was bleeding. Leaving the garage, the
four drove down through Harlem to Man-
hattan. Deciding they needed a new tire,

MICHIGAN'S FIRST LAST MILE

Under a new law the first death penalty ever given in Michigan became manda-

tory for Anthon Chebatoris, shown above shielding his face from cameras just

after his conviction for a bank holdup murder. Back in his cell Chebatoris tried
to cheat the law by slashing his throat and wrists.

wo sae

they stole one
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Dalton left t
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. They dresse
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At this po
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over

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Mrs. Wit!
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so sue oo

at last. “It stumps me. Of course, it could be the obvious. They
lured some babe up here and tried to rape her. They killed her
in the process. Or else, they tried to roll this woman for what-
ever she was carrying on her at the time. Plain and simple rob-
bery. It could even have been some combination of them both.”

Gilmartin walked him to the door, where Patrolman Westcott:
was standing guard. : ,

“Tl go down in the elevator with you,” he said. “I want to
talk with the manager.” He turned to Sweeney. “The. photogra-
pher will be here in a few minutes, Jack. The fingerprint man
can lift her prints off for us.”

HEN they reached the lobby, Gilmartin walked to the
desk. The few people scattered around the lobby eyed
him curiously,

The manager was behind the desk,

“Where’s the night clerk?” Gilmartin asked. “I want to talk
to him.”

“He’s in the office there,” Potts indicated. “Go right in.”
Gilmartin strode around the desk and entered the office.
He sat down behind the manager’s desk and eyed Harris V.
Crane, the night clerk. Crane was sitting uneasily on the edge
of a straight chair, twisting his hands nervously.

“Crane,” , the detective began. ‘You say you've seen this
Kelly Lew bird before. Tell me about it.”

Crane cleared his throat. “Well, he’s been coming: here’ off
and on for a couple of years now. Once or twice a week. Seems
like a nice young kid, about nineteen.”

Gilmartin nodded. He fixed his eyes on the twisting hands of
the nervous night clerk.

“Does he always come here alone?” * Recnnae

Crane nodded. “Always has. Last night was the first time I.
ever saw him with anyone.”

“And you didn’t know the other. guy? Could you describe
him?”

Crane considered. “I hardly paid any attention to him... I
guess all Chinese look alike to’ me, He: was older. than Kelly
Lew, and a little bigger. I should say twenty-four or’ so, and
about five feet six.”

“Could I see the hotel registry?” Gilmartin asked.

Crane pushed a pile of sheets towards him. “Here they ‘are.
This is for the past three months.”

Gilmartin thumbed through several sheets. “All the other-
signatures seem to check with the one for last night. Well, we'll


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“Does he hang around with any particu
lar buddy? Do you know any of his
friends?”

The four boys whispered together again.
Then Soon turned to the detective. “He
has no friends we know of. But he- likes
Western women. There’s one named Meg
he’s with sometimes.”

Gilmartin leaned forward
“Where can we find this girl?”

Soon frowned. “You can try the ham-
burger joint on the corner of Doyer
Street. She is usually there some of the
time.”

Gilmartin turned hack to Quong Cho.
“Well, I guess that’s all we can find out
now. Thank you very much, sir.”

Quong Cho inclined his head towards
the rear door and the four boys slipped
quietly out of the room.

“You are welcome, Detective,” he said

eagerly.

when the door was closed. “I am sorry we

could help you no more. Be sure we shall
make every effort to locate this boy and
his confederate and turn them over to
you.”

The detectives stood up. Gilmartin
smiled and nodded.

“Thank you very much.”

Robert Chin stepped out of the shad-
ows and showed them out of the office.

HEY reached the street and hurried

. toward the hamburger place the boys
had mentioned.

“Whew,” Sweeney breathed. “I’m glad
we're out of there.”

Gilmartin laughed. ‘“‘What’s the matter,
Jack? Don’t you like Oriental diploma-
cy?”

“Tt isn’t that.” Sweeney shook his head.
“But I got to thinking of the old days,
with the tong wars and the hatchet
men.” ‘

Gilmartin smiled. ‘“Everything’s nice
‘and peaceful now.” He edged Sweeney
across the street. ‘““There’s the hamburger
joint.”

The counterman was a glib young
Chinese-American.

“Sure, I know Kelly Lew.”

“Have you seen him recently?”

The counterman nodded. ‘Sure. He was
in tonight.”

Both men leaned forward.
Where’d he go?”

“Easy, fellas. Say, what is this?” The
Chinese eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“This is a murder case, fellow,” Gil-
martin told him brusquely. He flashed his
badge. “When did he come in, and who
was he with?”

“Well.” The counterman shuffled his
feet uneasily. “He came in with that
buddy of his. I don’t know his name.
They call him Fook. The two of them
came in about seven. They were sitting
here having coffee and, when this girl
they call Meg comes in. She’s all ex-
cited about something. Then she sits down
and Kelly gces out. He comes back in

‘When?

a minute with a paper and shows it to
the rest of them. Then they all beat it.”
He threw up. his hands. “That’s all I
know.”

“What time did they leave?” Sweeney
snapped.

“About an hour ago.”

“We'll get to work on this. Meg chick,”
Gilmartin said determinedly. “There must
be some way to get a lead on a’gal like
that.”

It was wearisom work, combing the
files of the New York City Police records,
looking for a girl of vague description,
known only as Meg. But the work had
its reward.

It was Sweeney who finally found her
card. “Here it is,” he grinned. He slapped
his fellow detective on the shoulder.
“Meg Canoni. Eighteen, Lives ‘on Twelfth
Street. Booked on a vagrancy charge in
1941. Sometimes hangs out in a bar on
Fourteenth Street.”

“Send out and have her picked up,”
Gilmartin said. “Now we're getting some-
where.”

Meg proved less helpful than the de-
tectives anticipated.

“Sure I know Kelly Lew,” she admit-
ted. “Know him for a long time.”

“Do you know his buddy, too?” Gil
martin asked. ;

The girl shrugged her shoulders in her
tight dress.

“He hangs around with a guy named
Fock. That’s all I know. Fook. He hangs
around with him sometimes.” She smiled.
“When he ain’t with me.”

“And where is Kelly Lew now?” Gil-

martin asked softly. :
- The girl’s face assumed a blank look.
“Now? Gee, I don’t know. I ain’t seen
him for a coupla weeks. We—we had a
little fight. Sorta.”

Sweeney winked at Gilmartin over the
girl’s head.

“Well, Bill, if the young lady says
she hasn’t seen him, then I guess she
hasn’t seen him.”

Gilmartin nodded. “Okay. You can go,
Meg. I’m sorry we bothered you. And if
you hear anything about either of the
boys, you'll let us know, won’t you?”

The girl stood up. She straightened her
dress and patted her hair. She smiled at
Gilmartin.

“Sure.”

She walked to the door and opened it.
She looked back over her shoulder. ‘Sure.
T'll let you know.”

The door closed behind her. Gilmartin
grabbed his phone and spoke into it soft-
ly. ,
’ “Put a tail on that girl,” he ordered.
“The one just leaving my office.”

Sweeney sighed and sat down. “She’ll
lead us to her boy friend. It may take
time, but I’ll bet she will.”

EVERAL months went by before an-
other break came in the Jasey case.

Meg went back to her usual haunts. She
was watched constantly, but she was nev-
er known to contact either of the missing
murder suspects.

On the afternoon’of June 6th, Gilmar-
tin was thumbing through the case rec-
ords.

“I sure wish we’d get a lead on thes
boys,” he told Sweeney. “I don’t lik:
to leave them running around thinkin;
they got away with it.”

Sweeney sighed. He picked up a la!
report. “We've got. a beautiful set o
prints on one of them. It’s off a glas
from the hotel room. Classification can
find a duplicate. Neither of those tw:
had a record. If only they would ge
fingerprinted someplace. Looking for
job or something.”

“Say!” Gilmartin sat up suddenly. “W
may be missing out on something ther:
Suppose on of those kids joined the arm
It would be a perfect place to hide out

Sweeney frowned. “I thought of tha
But there aren’t many Chinese boys
the armed forces. At least not compare
to other groups. I don’t know wheth:
they would figure it as a safe hidii
place or not.”

Gilmartin’s eyes were thoughtful. “L
ten, it’s worth a try. I’m going to se!
those prints in. We can’t afford to ove
look anything.”

Within two days, the detectives 1
ceived a teletype from Washington ide
tifying the prints as belonging to o
Howard Chin, Private in the U. S. Arm
who had volunteered for service in Nc
folk, Virginia.

Sweeney took a train to South Car
lina, where the boy was undergoing ba:
training. He returned with a signed stat
ment, and with the young army priva
himself.

“He’s Kelly Lew, all right,” Sween:
told his anxious partner. “And he adm:
he was there-in the hotel that nig!
But he says he didn’t see any woma
Insists he and his friend never came ba:
after they went out for coffee.”

“Then why was he hiding out?” G
martin demanded.

“Scared, He read about it in the |
pers and figured he’d be blamed.”

Gilmartin sighed. “Well, we haven’t ;
any other evidence yet, and that Orient
stoicism is tough to break down. I gu:
we'll just hold him for a while on si
picion. The army will have to loan hi
to us for longer than they figured.”

Within four days after picking up Ke!
Lew, the detectives received a phone c:
from the plainclothes man who w
shadowing the girl Meg.

“I’m up at 110th and 3rd Avenue,” !
told them. “In the drug store on t!
corner. Better get up here fast.”

The detectives ran to their car ar
drove quickly to the address mentione
They left the car a block away and wall
ed into the store, The other detecti\

ning here off
week. Seems

ting hands of

2 first time I
you describe

‘tohim...I1
‘r than Kelly
ir Or so, and

ed,
fere they are.

\ll the other
ht. Well, we'll

have that checked more closely later on. Here,” he pulled out
a small slip of paper from his inside coat pocket. He wrote on
it for a. moment. “Here’s a receipt for these things. If you'll
wrap them up and leave them on the desk, we'll take them
with us when we go.”

Gilmartin walked back to the elevator and was carried up to
the second floor. He went back into room 213. He watched the
photographers and print men moving busily around. .

Gilmartin picked up the bloody necktie from the foot of the
bed.

“The lab boys can’t do much with this,” he remarked. “Here,
Jack, stick it in a hotel envelope. We'll see if we can trace
it through some of the stores down in Chinatown.”

Sweeney folded the tie into an envelope, which he put into

Shadowing of the girl named
Meg paid off. She at last led
the cop to one of the killers.

_ Gilmartin leaned close to Sweeney.

his overcoat pocket. Then the detectives left for headquarters.

When they reached Central Headquarters, Gilmartin went
into the Chief of Detective’s Office to pore over the hotel registry
sheets. Sweeney went down to the lab to help with the finger-
print classification. In less than an hour, he came up to where
Gilmartin was working.

“Marjorie Jasey is the girl’s name, Bill,” he said. “She’s been
bocked several times here in the city. Twenty-four years old.
No next of kin known. So now we know.” He slumped into a
chair. “You find anything?”

Gilmartin nodded. “I called Robert Chin. He’s an interpreter
in Court of General Sessions. He’s also a member of the Hip

‘Sing Tong. That outfit knows everything that goes on in

Chinatown. I've arranged to see the big shot.”

“Great. When do we go?”

“Right now.” Gilmartin stood up and
put on his coat. “Be sure and: bring that
tie with you.”

The two detectives drove their squad
car to Chatham Square and parked on
the corner of Mott Street. :

“We'll walk from here,” Gilmartin said,
“These little twisted streets are a bother
in a car,”

‘HEY stepped out of the automobile

under the shadow of the El, into the
gloomy night air with its infinite par-
ticles of black grimy soot. The sidewalks
along Chatham Square were well popu-
lated with human derelicts, dirty and rag-
ged and unshaven, lurching from one
cheap bar to another. Others like them
snoozed peacefully, stretched full length
on the cold concrete, lulled by the rattle
of the overhead railway.

Sweeney looked around curiously as
they steppéd into the entrance of the
narrow, gently winding Mott Street, into
the heart of the Chinese city, leaving the
dregs of Western civilization behind them
under the El. He peered into the tiny,
crowded store windows and tried to cata-
Icgue in his mind the myriad exotic wares.
Jade statuettes and carved images of the
strange Chinese gods, gayly twisting
Chinese lanterns and delicately painted
pastelle pictures, beautifully wrought
silver. urns, They passed a food shop with its display of candied
grasshoppers, browned pieces of pork and twisted green vege-
tables, All these things he recognized. He also noted the large
black bear's paw, the scrawny white monkey’s hand, the curled
little sea-horses, the small brown ‘beetles, and wondered if they
were to eat or to wear.

Gilmartin brought him back to reality. He pointed across the
street to a modern building with a bench in front of it.

“Here it is,” he said. “Headquarters of the Hip Sing Tong.”

They started across the street. As they approached the build-
ing, the crowd of men around the bench thinned rapidly.

They entered a hallway and stepped into a small reception
rccm. A young Chinese jumped up and greeted them.

“Hello, Bob,” smiled Gilmartin. “We sure appreciate your
doing this tonight. This is Detective John Sweeney, He’s work-
ing with me on the case.”

Robert Chin nodded. “I am glad to be of service to you. If
you will just wait here a minute, I will see if the honorable
Quong: Cho is ready.”

He bowed slightly and stepped through an ornate drapery.

“We have to be very polite to (Continued on page 69)
37


.! operations, Take him in.”
thaffey grabbed one arm and _ the
dick grabbed the other. They drag-
me out of the room and dumped
nto a police car outside. Mahaffey
n the back with me, The. other cop-
ot in behind the wheel.
ow, punk,” said Mahaffey, “yester-
‘ou told the doctor that you had to
the dough up. Who’s in this with
I want their names.”
isten,” I said. “You got to pinch
doctor. I_ tell you. he’s an illegal
tion quack. I can give you the name
e of the dames he operated on.”
sah, yeah,” said Mahaffey, “I know.
Id me all about it when he called
after your visit yesterday.”
e told you? Then why the hell don’t
inch him?”
haffey sighed. “Look, dummy. It’s
the doc performed an abortion the
day. But it was a legal abortion.”
legal abortion? -There’s no such

»w dumb can you get?” asked Ma-
of no one in particular. “For your
vation, punk, if a couple of repu-
doctors decide in conference that
ortion is necessary to save the’ pa-
» life, it’s quite legal to perform
ell, that's the kind of abortions '
vorth does.”
it staggered me. A gnawing and
spicion crawled into my mind.
\ lawyer would know about
wouldn’t he?”
high school kid would know about
aid Mahaffey. ‘Now, what’s the
of the guys who are in this with

pt my mouth shut. A guy doesn’t
a copper. Besides I_was sick in-
t had been a frame after all. Lonny
aited six months but at last he got
vith me. Dimly I was aware of Ma-
asking me again about my con-
tes. I shook my head dumbly. I
4d, “Do you think I’m a rat?”
: lieutenant. said, “I’m not waiting.
intil you tell me what I want to.

It my arm suddenly snap. The pain
‘cruciating. I cried out. .Then I said
‘ingly, ‘“Creary. A guy called Crea-
id another guy called Harper. They
out in Noonan’s.”

veight suddenly lifted itself as the
ant got to his feet. He yelled out
1e other guys came back into the
He said, “Better get the doc. I
jis arm is hurt.”

? The pain ran up and down my
; right into my guts and brain.
‘es were suddenly wet and I put
pd hand over my eyes,

‘e was a stiff jail term in front of
j ratted on my pals. But my most
humiliation at that moment was
ct that four lousy coppers were
ig me cry.

these people,” he whispered. “We could
come barging in here with a summons
and pull the whole bunch of them in for
questioning. But we wouldn’t find out a
thing.”

“Who’s Quong Cho?” Sweeney asked
softly.

Gilmartin cocked an eyebrow. ‘‘He’s the
top man. The real number one.”

Chin stepped silently back into ‘the

* room and beckoned to them. They step-
‘ped through the arched doorway and en- *

tered a large, softly-lit office. The furnish-
ings were of magnificent heavy oak. The
walls. were hung tastefully with the deli-
cate Chinese prints. And placed around
the room on various tables and stands
were jade carvings and red lacquer boxes.

Seated behind the polished desk, the
detectives saw an old, old Chinese gentle-
man. He was dressed in rich dark Western
clothes. His white hair was clipped close
to his small head.

Chin bowed. “Here are the two detec-
tives, honorable one. Detective Gilmartin
and Sweeney.”

Except for a slight nod, the old gentle-
man gave all appearance of not having
heard. Gilmartin waited a moment. Then
he cleared his throat.

“Thank, you, sir,” he began, “for letting
us see you so quickly.”

A soft strong voice swelled out from
the old man’s body. The words were
English words, well modulated and with-
out any accent.

“Tt is a pleasure to be of assistance
to members of the New York City Police.
I am only sorry that we are concerned
with such a deplorable incident.”

-Quong Cho motioned them to sit down,
and the detectives sank into soft bro-
caded chairs. Sweeney looked at the gold
dragon stretched on a piece of tapestry
above the Tong leader’s head.

“T have heard of the accident,” the old
man went on. “But perhaps you would
give me the details.”

ILMARTIN gave him a resume of
¥ the known facts. “We would like
to locate those two boys,” he added.
Quong Cho nodded. “I cannot give you
any information myself, but I have sum-
moned several of our young men. They
may be able to help you.” He motioned
to a door behind his desk. Bob Chin
opened it and went out. “It is unfortunate
that so many of our young people have
adapted ways alien to those of their par-
ents, but that is the way things have hap-
pened. I hope these boys will be able to
give you the information you seek.”
Chin returned and ushered in four

The Strangled Nude

(Continued from page 37)

_ Chinese youths. They were dressed in
flashy modern clothes. They bowed re-
spectfully and then stood silently against
the wall.

Quong Cho looked at them blandly.
“We have brought you here to ask your
help in clearing up an unfortunate occur-
rence involving some of our young men.”
He paused. “Do any of you know a boy
called Kelly Lew?”

The youths looked at each other and
whispered softly. Then one of them step-
ped forward. He spoke quickly in fluent
Chinese. Quong Cho held up a slender
hand.

“You will please confine yourselves to
speaking in English.”

The humility evinced by the youth
showed the detectives the extent of the
old man’s power. They realized that power
did not spring alone from the reverence
due to age.

“Well, Philip Soon?” Quong Cho ask-
ed. :

“Honorable one,” the youth began
hesitantly. “We do know of a Chinese boy
called Kelly Lew. We first met him sev-
eral months ago. We have seen him sev-
eral times since then.”

Quong Cho’s face showed no emotion.
“Where did you meet him?” The youth
shifted uneasily. “Come. These gentle-
men and I know well the places in which
you waste your time. Where did” you
meet him?”

“In Foong’s Pool Room, on Mott
Street.” ;

“Do you know anything else about
him? Where he lives or works? Does he
speak Chinese?”

Philip Soon nodded. ‘Yes, honorable
one. He speaks fluent Chinese. With a
Cantonese accent. But we know nothing
further about him. We do not even know
his Chinese name.”

One of the other boys stepped forward
eagerly. “He was sometimes called Ah
Yook, honorable one.”

“Thank you,” Quong Cho nodded. “De-
tective, do you wish to ask any ques-
tions?”

Gilmartin nodded. He held out his hand
to Sweeney and took the envelope from.
him. He took the tie from the envelope
and held it up.

“Ever see him wear this tie?” he ask-
ed.

Two of the youths nodded. “Yes,” Phil-
ip Soon answered. “I’ve seen it on him.”

“Do you know where he got it?”

Scon shrugged. “Probably Sam Kee’s
cr Chang’s. They’re both on Mott Street.”

Sweeney noted down the names.

“One thing more,” Gilmartin asked.

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| ABOU EG Rea rcisiscitinincivisnasessbesscsdeencciriiiisierienieitecns

City. ZONE... State
0k es ee ee es ss


ee

' ; Breoution of the Marderor Latvimoaille,

[With Portrait}. 2.

f Ataany, N. ¥., Aug. 20.—Hilaire Latrimoutilo wan.
hanged in the jail here to-day for the murder Of Misa:

Catharine Dunsbach, near Cohoes, last ‘April.

Latrimouilie’s mother remained with hith-up to «.

short time before he waaled from his cell. The usual
.parting between him and ‘his mother and with those

who had ministered to his comfort of. late, was very .

affecting. ie Die an apna
' At ‘twenty minutes past ‘eleven. o'clock Latri-
mouille’s mother took a final farewell of her son, and

was assisted, weeping, from the cell by "the Blstars or:

Charity. At half past ‘eleven o'clock Latrimouilfe's
manacles were atricken off, and the final preparations
for the execution: were begun, "The priests constant-
ly repeated prayers, in’ which the ‘sondemacd man’
joined. ‘At twenty minutes to twelve the persons al.
lowed to witness the execution ware admitted to the
corridor. At seventeen minutes past twelve o'clock
orders wefe given to cletr: the way, arid a few mo-
ments Jater the small but ‘solemn proceasion entered

the jail corridor.’ At the head was Deputy Sheriff

Nodine and Jailer ‘Crounse, . The prisoner followed,
supported by Fathers Brouillet and Dougas, and hold.
ing @ gold and ebony crucifiz, which he pressed ear.
nestly to hie ps. His head leaned on Father Brouii-
let's mhowlder, 035) 0 8 i, Sy Cae eas ea,
After the reading of the doath-warrant Latrimouille
was asked whether ho had anything to say, °
With bent head and low voice he answered: >
“TE have only to say what I have already said, 1
forgive every one and hope to be forgiven,” a
Latrimouillo’s wrists were then pinioned behind hia
back, and thongs were bound ‘about bis ankles and
abdve the knees. His prayern were then renowed,
and after a brief interval the reverend father dis

ocean avin bie & Og Poth De OL

! then adjusted by Deputy Sheriff
Blacknian, the bleck cap drawn down, and the group’
drew back, leaving the doomed man standing alone.
It waa only s moment of suspensé, however, ‘ At half
past twelve the ‘Deputy Sheriff waved his handker:

chief, the hidden rope. was cut, the weights dropped ff

.with ® rattle and Latrimouille’s body swung in the
air and fell with a thud, which made the stout rope
| vibrate. It was done 80 suddenly ‘that the "priests
| were struck by Latrimouille’s legs, and ‘they fell
proatrate on the ground, his hody meanwhile swaying
terribly, Tho muscléew and ‘limbs: were much con-
vuleed, n“twithstanding, the attending physiciaus
stated: that Latrimouille’s neck was broken at first,
He died in about: twelve minutes... The body wan.
taken: to the Church of the Assumption, on Hamilton
street, and afterward to his parents’ residence at:

Oaboed ee ee he

Among those present in the jail before the execu-.

| tion weré Martin Dunsbach, father of the murdered.

woman. He was asked wether he would be satisfied
if the sentence had been commuted to imprisonment.
for life, “ No,”* said the old man. with deliberation;
“That would not satisfy me. “It was 8 cruel murier,.
he deserves to be hanged, and nothing ‘else ‘would’
satisfy me but to nee the sentence carried out," By”
the advice of nome friends, however, just before Lat-'
rimouille was taken from hia cell, Dunabach retired 3

and did not witness the execution...

Hilaire Latrimouille was bornfin Canada, and wan:
twenty-four years of age. “His parents. are French —
Canadians. - He could neither read nor write. He lisa.
three brothers and s married sister. ‘The family have.
lived iri Cohoes for years. The father iss blackamith. :
‘His boys bear a bad reputation. Hilaire was married -
afid hada child, but-he had never supported | hin fam:
ily aud had not seen them for years, His personal .
appearance was sinister and decidedly unprepoancas-

ing, but hia confintment and ‘the mental anxicty he

must have undergone had toned the aspect of. bir

Ka

features considerably of late. His head waa large,
| diaproportionally so; bis neck thick, and bis face
} sallow. - Hin flippant demeanor during’ hia trial did
| not desert him even when. the sebtence was pro-
| nounced, although the past: few weeks. had- elimi.
| nated all tracea of it in his beartog. ‘Toelgarer waa
| committed on the 5th of April last. -LatMmouille,
early on that. day, applied for work at the renidence
of Dunabach, .He war told to call later, Duusbach .
being about to atart for Cohoes. The theory ie, that
after Dunebach left, there being ho one at home but
hia daughter Catharine, an unmarried woman, fifty
years of age. Latrimouille returued to rob the house:
Catharine refusing to tell hime where the old man's
mouey was, or that there was none, Latrimouitle be:
came enraged and cut her Chroad.> Me eearched tle
house, but found only fowe dollars,


Native of Canada, was the Son of a black.
smith who emigrated to Cohoes, N, Y., with his family, Illiterate,
Latrimouille followed the trade of a blacksmith anq Was married and

3
1879, he appeared at the farm of an elderly man named Dunsbach about
three miles from Cohoes and inquired about work, Mr. Dunsbach told

_ him that he Was going to Cohoes and asked that he return later, After

ee eee j " There was no

RU XHXAK hot in the court room, >
Seas ae as fhaneaa ce Albany on August 20, 1879, sel einen
sca rk . sper an fie ae of
ra cae fall, went to his death calmly and wi eevee ce
pia riibor id a woods were: "I have only to say what a :
emotion, i

: "
Said. I forgive everyone and hope to be forgiven, aa E
. POLICE GAZEITE, May 31, 1879(10-1) july cpt - 1)5
NATIONAL 1879(7-h); May 10, 1879 (10-2); Ju y ie :
Pen 1879 (2-1; wooduct likeness on page.
" , oi myn

= Y stopgap
: ee to. the public to-day...
ee the document, A

of Lecce ee who is stated to be the ea-
all knowledge of it, It in asserted thet. ©

; is eubstantially 2s follows. Latrix

p guilt, and said bie motive wee. -

intention of murder atthe out:


HOW THEY DIED

No. 8: You never can tell
how they'll take it...

|X THE DEATH HOUSE and execu-
tion chamber one must always expect
the unexpected. Condemned people
never behave according to any pattern.
Despite their long experience, attendants
are constantly surprised | at the way dif-
ferent prisoners ‘take it.” Appearance
means nothing. The softest looking,
those who are not real criminals at all
in the ordinary sense, but who have
simply let their passions sweep them
away, often exhibit a hardness and even
bitterness which comes with even great-
er surprise because it is not anticipated.

One of this type was Louis Lazar,
who was executed at Sing Sing on
January 15, 1937, for the murder of
Morris Saskowitz in Brooklyn. Lazar
was not a criminal in the sense that he
lived by means of gave Sar
He was a workingman, and
employed practically all his life. The
very thing which sent him to the chair
was a quarrel over. wages which he
claimed he had earned, and which he
contended Saskowitz had not paid him.
The wages amounted to only fifty dol-
lars, another of the innumerable illus-
trations of the trivial causes which impel
men to commit murder.

Lazar was a:‘small man of just a
little over five feet. He had a big
paunch and his weight was out of all
proportion to his size. He looked like
exactly the kind of person he was—a
man who took no exercise at all, and
who overate the most fattening starches
and sweets. He was short of breath,
had high blood pressure, and wheezed
and puffed when he walked.

Lazar did not confess. He insisted
that he was innocent, and that those
who knew he was would not testify in
his behalf. But not once during his in-
‘carceration did this fat, flabby little
man show the slightest sign of fear. He
walked under his own power into the
execution chamber, shaking off the
hands of two guards who wanted to
assist him.

“Don’t bother,” he snapped. “I don’t
need any help.”

He glanced at the electric chair and
then at the witnesses, Then he walked

But he did not have the number of the
gun; a blot of ink had destroyed it.
Lambert flatly denied he had ever owned
such a gun, claiming its purchaser must
have been a man of the same name. The
gunsmith, brought to Los Angeles, failed
to pick Lambert out as the man to whom
he. had sold the gun. But Murphy and
Gillan left the furniture salesman in jail,
and began a checkup of all second-hand
car lots in San Pedro and Los Angeles.
No dealer was found who had been offered
the Durant coach and the detectives con-
cluded Petterson must have driven north.
A few days later, their conclusion was
substantiated by fact for the San Francisco
police picked up Petterson’s car, parked
on a street in the residential section. They
had also located the engineer’s sister, who
had an apartment on that same street.
Murphy and Gillan hurried to the Bay
City and talked to the sister. She declared
she had not seen her brother in months.

54

over and seated himself in the instru-
ment of dea

“I'd like to say a few words, warden,”
he said calmly.

The aie. ‘nodded. And then Lazar
proceeded to lash out verbally at those
who had prosecuted him. Unlike many
of the condemned, who mumble some-
thing about forgiving those instrumental
po ior ng them to their fate, Lazar

eartily all those who had testi-
ra against him.

“There was a witness at the Sasko-
witz’s,” he said, “who told about seeing
the murderer, and that he was. five feet,
five, and dark-complected. I am five -
feet, two, and I am not dark-complected.
Another witness said the same thing,
but would not testify for me. I hope
there is another world, and I hope I
will be the star witness when they get
up on trial. That’s all. Now, go to it,”

In_striking contrast. was
of Frank ite, hanged at Auburn:
Prison for the murder of a farmer.
White looked “tough.” He was quar
relsome and violent during all the viene
he was in the death house, and on sev-
eral occasions he tried to assault. his
guards,

When he entered the execution cham-
bers—but let the late Robert Elliott,
state executioner, tell it:

“At the appointed hour the door lead-
ing from the death cells into the execu-
tion chamber opened, and I saw a quak-
ing, blubbering figure supported on each
side by a guard. As his eyes fell upon
the electric chair he screamed in terror,
and tried frantically to free himself
from those gripping him. ‘Don’t me
me! Don’t do it! Don’t do it!’ he
cried,

“The guards dragged the frightened
man across the floor and forced him
into the chair. He continued
and resisted attempts ,to adjust the
straps, so that I had to appeal to the
“guards to keep his leg still. He
struggled against his bonds and mum-
bled incoherently until the switch was
thrown.”

No, as the death house attendants say,
“You never can tell how they’ll take it.”

San Francisco police put a watch on the
sister’s home and the Los Angeles de-
tectives returned to the south, where they
placed Petterson’s known acquaintances
under surveillance. ;

Lambert was still in jail. But one after-
noon, a speakeasy bartender visited Murphy
and Gillan at headquarters.

“T’ve been away on a vacation,” he told
them, “and just found out you're holding
Ray Lambert for murder. I saw him that
night. He had a couple of drinks in the
joint where I work, and he didn’t act like
a man plotting murder.”

For lack of physical evidence, the de-
tectives were forced to release Lambert,
but ordered him not to leave the city.

Early in December, Seattle police estab-
lished that the murder gun had been pur-
chased in their city by Nels LE. Petterson!
The trail grew hot again.

A few days later, a man who identified
himself as James Mitchell called to see

Detectives Murphy and Gillan. He pre-
sented the detectives with a Christmas card,
saying :

“That card is from Nels Petterson.
You're looking for him, aren't you?”

Mitchell went on to explain that the
card had been received by a family friendly
to Petterson. Its writer asked that these
people call on Mitchell and ask him to go
to San Pedro, to a specified address, for
the writer’s tools; they were also to see
that Mitchell shipped the tools to a certain
San Francisco garage. The card was signed
“Captain London.” As the officers read
the signature, they eyed Mitchell.

“What makes you so sure Petterson
wrote this?” asked Gillan. “It isn’t signed
by him.”

“T know his handwriting, and that guy
London is a man Pete once worked for,”
replied Mitchell.

Over long distance phone, Gillan in-
formed San Francisco police of this latest
development, and Chief Quinn promised to
keep a watch on the garage mentioned on
the card. Handwriting experts were given
the card to compare with the envelope scrap
from Selma Olson’s wastebasket. Then,
Murphy and Gillan traveled to San Pedro
where they collected the designated tools
and shipped them to San Francisco.

Days went by. The package remained
unclaimed at the northern city garage. And
Petterson remained in hiding, apparently
warned, in some inexplicable manner, that
he had. been betrayed. The handwriting
on the card was proven identical with the
address on the envelope scrap, definitely
establishing that “Captain London” was
Nels Petterson.

Early on the evening of December 21,
the San Francisco garage received a tele-
gram from San Diego, signed “Captain
London,” asking that the package held
there for him be forwarded immediately to
an address on Cummingswell Street in the
border city. The garage man handed the
wire to the officers on watch and, half an
hour later, San Diego police closed in on
the Cummingswell Street house.

With drawn guns, they covered the three
exits of the house. Other officers started
through the building, questioning tenants.
One resident told them a man answering.
Petterson’s description lived in the attic.
Three of the detectives climbed the stairs.
A few subdued noises reached their ears as
they paused outside the attic apartment,
signifying that someone was inside the
darkened room.

“Be ready to throw yourselves on the
floor as we break in,’ whispered one of the
officers. “This guy will fight it out...
Ready !”

Crash! The none-too-substantial door
broke into kindling wood. Before the noise
had died away, one of the men was sweep-
ing the darkness with his flashlight.

“He beat us to it!” he ejaculated.

The lights, switched on an instant later,
disclosed Nels Petterson lying in a pool of
his life’s blood. He had severed his jugular
vein with a sharp-edged razor. He glared
at the officers, whispered Selma Olson’s
name and lost consciousness. Twenty
minutes later he was dead.

Subsequent investigation by Murphy and
Gillan disclosed that Petterson had engaged
steamer passage for South America, where
he would have been beyond extradition.

On December 24, George Whiting was
taken to San Diego by the detectives.
There, in the morgue, he looked upon the
face oi Nels Petterson and declared un-
hesitatingly that there was the murderer of
lovely Selma Olson.

To shield the identity of innocent persons,
the names “Ray Lambert,” “Mrs. Ruth
Winstead” and “Mrs. Amelia Morris,’ as
used in this article, are not actual but
fictitious,—Ept or.

INSIDE DETECTIVE

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FEBRU:»


hare S|

58 FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE

six hundred dollars he would be rid of Nigger and Shorty.

And Benny would be drowned and out of the picture.

That left almost the whole of the $140,000 insurance for

him, Lefkowitz, the master mind. Not bad!

For the rest of the afternoon the quartet lazed on the
beach, taking a dip now and then, and between dips dis-
cussing the practical details of their plan. They agreed
on the time they would start the next morning, where
they would rent the boat from which Benny was to take
the plunge, and decided how far they must be from
other boats beYore Benny was to “fall” overboard. Final-
ly Lefkowitz, for Benny’s benefit, and with a sly wink
at the others, described in great detail just how he would
come up in his motorboat with the rope hanging over the
Side.

They remained there until the sun dropped down back
of Staten Island and lights by the thousand glowed in
Coney Island’s towers and spun on the roller-coasters.
Barkers began their evening chorus and bands blared
greetings to the multitudes pouring out of the trains from
the stifling city. It was not until it grew really dark and
chill on the sand and the night life of the Island was
mounting to its maximum giddy merriment that the
quartet broke up.

Lefkowitz, excited at the approaching climax of a plan
he had had in mind for four years, went home to 13 Clin-
ton Street, Brooklyn.

The three boys decided to avoid a trip home and back
again by sleeping on the beach somewhere, and they
prowled until they found a boat big enough to hold them
if they huddled close together.

None of them slept well. The bottom of the boat was
hard, and a chilling breeze curled in over the side. Biting
insects disturbed them: And besides, they all had_.things
to think about. : ae

Benny, feeling the warmth of Rubinzahl and’ Green-
berg beside him, thought of what blockheads ‘they were
to imagine that he and Lefkowitz would risk so much
for a mere thousand dollars split four ways. He dreamed
of what he would do with his half of the $140,000 about

which his companions knew nothing. He hoped there
would be no hitch, as there had been the time Lefkowitz
opened a stocking and silk store for him at Port Chester

MURDER BOATS

Rowboat in fore-
ground Is the one in
which three boys
rowed out Into
Gravesend Bay—two
of them plotting to
murder thethird. The
third planned to dou-:
ble-cross the-others, .
never suspecting
himself the victim of
a cold-blooded insur-
ance plot. Motorboat
in upper left ‘is the
One that was to have
“saved” the victim.

- to a day to bring it to completion. ies j

and they had been unable to collect the insurance when the

it. burned. Many of Lefkowitz’s schemes for “making In

millions” had come to nothing. But this one looked like dolls
a sure thing. He wondered if the water would be cold in thou.

the early morning when the time came for him to FOpo
“drown,” big I
That he was a very poor swimmer bothered him not at ze
all. He was certain that Lefkowitz would be on the spot | of yo
with the motorboat, and that very little swimming would | : going
be necessary. Benn
. Nigger Rubinzahl was thinking that he might give part " Th:

of his share of the thousand dollars to his girl, pretty sev- take:
enteen-year-old Helen Brandwein. And he wondered if surar
Shorty Greenberg would squeal. Shorty was only eigh- | his al
teen, a year younger than Nigger, and he was dumb, In | that i
the morning he would scare Shorty so he’d never dare the d
to talk, Rubinzahl decided, and went to sleep. ee ‘
e
EFKOWITZ, in his comfortable bed at home, was Bac
chuckling to himself at the manner in which he was —Le!
outwitting them all. No matter what happened he.would berg-

be safe. Rubinzahl and Greenberg would be in the row-
boat from which Benny would plunge into the bay, but
he, Lefkowitz, would be on dry land. Even if the other
two were caught red-handed, nothing could be proved
against him. They might make trouble for him. They
might accuse him of complicity. But he would have an
alibi. ‘

Oh, yes, he told himself, it had taken brains to work 4&
out this plan of his. And it had taken. four ye almo, ‘4

_ The initial step had been taken in August,/1923, whe
Benny had first beeome his. “partner.” At that time h
had had Benny take out a life insurance policy. for. «
thousand dollars, naming his mother as beneficia

-in the same manner for four thousand dollars more, then ™
. in December for another five thousand dollars, Each time }
_ Benny named his mother as t :
“money in case he died. And ea

¥%

the bo)
hurried
», Benn
waters,
those ir
the onl:
Full of
to pick
stern a)


emned killer
untry.

snts of Albe-
to whom the
‘Cue is stilla. 4
headsmean- , -*:
ids that the ef

imly from the ~

id I shall not

ice of a grave
j0sing marble
e Virginians,

es, assert that

+ t |
es beneath the A
narle, having :
rime. - et 2
- ®

PGi
Pe

; (one
———— 5

e from the bot-
arew the end of
‘as too short. Inv %
itreach he tried,
-a pole, The sec="
he let go, and it ©
ake on the water: :
went under. And,
of his head came
) even that was
da not come up
nd Shorty Green= -
inzahl had earned
ree hundred. dole...
i,

> oars and started _
anding. Neither of
yinzahl was to re=..
nd he was think-
i say. By the time
iore he. had it all-:
ere was a woman
ating at them and |
cightened Nigger’s
ht out of his mem=

ephine Alnela and ==
a the spot of push= >”
rd and making no»
A patrolman.came -
m they ought to be
iy shouted at once
‘n took out his noter
creamed that he had ¢
save Goldstein. He ,
. water and tried to
the boat. He pulled
na showed his wet
ath it to prove his

had not seen the
was used to these
He had to make a
‘sted that everybody
‘ve him the names.

sence of anything
sg looked as if he
water recently. The
ao

54 eries-—-October

in typ Tagggee alt
eer

patrolman took down the report of
Goldstein’s death as an ordinary
drowning, of which there are many
every summer. And he reported it as
such at the police station. .

The papers carried a small item the
next morning headed: Drowning in
Gravesend Bay. .

Wee, in a dentist’s office at which
.YY¥ he had made an appointment to
give himself an alibi, Lefkowitz re-

~ ceived Rubinzahl’s telephone call that

everything had gone according to
schedule, he congratulated himself. He
was satisfied that he-had committed a
perfect crime. It was a murder of
which he could not be accused, since

- he was miles away having a tooth

filled at the time; a murder with plenty
of witnesses to testify to the death,
but with no troublesome corpse around
for detectives to snoop over with mi-

-- eroscopes, fingerprint apparatus and

chemicals. A murder which, if anyone
did guess it was not an accident, would
be laid to Rubinzahl and Greenberg.
All he had to worry about now was
collecting the $140,000 from the two’
insurance companies and paying off
the two accomplices with the petty
sums he had promised them. Lefko-
witz rubbed his hands together, cer-
tain that his plot was airtight, and pre-

pared to collect the money.

But within a few hours he was to
discover that instead of being a master

. criminal, he was a complete bungler,
-.) and that instead of being airtight, his
- plot was as leaky as a rotten sponge!

The very day of.the drowning an
anonymous voice over the telephone
told the district attorney’s office that
the drowning should be investigated—
that it was not accident, but murder.

‘A second voice, which identified it-

- self as that of Rabbi Moses Pollack, re-

peated the charge in more detail.
“I was walking along the shore at
éight in the morning,” the rabbi said.

-“I saw one boy in the boat get up. Then
~ another got up and pushed the first one
‘ jn the water, I heard the man in the

water yelling for help, and the other
two did nothing to help him.”

Parkinson to make an investigation.
They called at the Goldstein home and

‘ brought Sam and David Goldstein,

Benny’s brothers, back to the office
with them. ;

Benny had talked at home. He had
told all about the plan to defraud the
insurance companies. He had boasted
about it. “It is arranged that I am to
seem to drown,” he had said. And he
had told of ‘the plan to sail at once,
after the simulated drowning, for Hon-
olulu.

The Goldsteins hated Lefkowitz.
They told the district attorney that for
four years Lefkowitz had exerted a
curious control over their Benny, that
it was as if he had hypnotized the
youth. Benny would do anything Lef-
kowitz told him to do, no matter how
silly or how evil, and he would take
no advice from his family.

“tT know my business,” he had said

- District Attorney Dodd assigned De- -
tectives William A. Begley and Vance

és

FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE

when the family remonstrated with
him about the insurance plot.

County Detectives Frederick Kopf

and Louis Joseph were sent to find Mrs.
Alnela. She lived on the shore front
and liked to watch the fishermen. She
how seen Lefkowitz start the boys off
in the rowboat. She had seen two of
them stand up in the boat when it was
several hundred feet off shore. She had
seen one of them push the other in, had
heard the screams for. help and had
seen that no effort was made to save
Benny. ‘ :
_ This was not at all what Lefkowitz
had’ planned for, but he still thought
he could bluff his way through. When
Benny’s brother directly accused him
of having killed the boy, he growled:

“You keep quiet! We can square this
by giving your father half the insur-
ance money and telling him to keep
his mouth shut. You can’t fight me. I
got plenty of dough.”

How much money he really had was
demonstrated a few hours later when
Rubinzahl hunted him up and threat-
ened to talk unless he got his pay in
full at once. Lefkowitz, having already
given him seventy-five dollars, paid
him’ -twenty-five dollars more and
promised the remainder for the next
day. To get it he had to pawn his wife’s
diamond ring.

Then the district attorney learned of
the quantity of insurance on the dead
Goldstein’s life, and of the fact that
Lefkowitz was the sole beneficiary.
The fat was in the fire.

Enraged to learn that while pretend-
ing to split the profits of murder equal-
ly with them, Lefkowitz was planning
to pocket $140,000, leaving them with
the smallest of small change, Nigger
Rubinzahl and Shorty Greenberg ‘fell

_ over themselves confessing the whole

plot.

Cornered by their confessions, Lef-
kowitz saw that he could no longer
plead complete innocence. He con-
fessed the scheme to defraud the insur-
ance companies. But murder? Never!

“T never thought of double-crossing
Benny,” he said. “Those dirty so-and-
sos drowned him!”

Now the lying became very com-
plicated indeed as each of the three
tried to tell. his story in a way to save
his own skin. Greenberg said that he
had tried to save Benny. He had tossed
him a rope and he had wanted to jump
in after him, but Rubinzahl would not

‘ stop the boat. Rubinzahl retorted that

it was Greenberg who had been the
most impatient to get Benny overboard,
repeatedly giving the signal before the
deed was actually done. And now Lef-
kowitz invented a new version.

“Rubinzahl started the murder story
to blackmail me out of the insurance
money,” he said in his confiding way.
“He sided with the Goldstein family to
get the money away from me, and
that’s what started this whole busi-
ness.”

Then, four days after the « owning,
the body of Benny Goldste floated
up to the surface and was ide tified by
Benny’s father. leflkowitz, 's usual
joviality gone, looked at the dy and

129

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; for “making
ne looked like
yuld be cold‘in
.e for him to”

‘red him not at
be on the spot
‘imming would

night give part

e’d never dare
ep. Gene

ened he.would ~
be in the row-
to the bay, but

yuld be proved
for him. ‘They
would have an=

brains to work
ir years almost

ust, 1923, when
\t that time he
: policy for. one =~
ba ope Aly
to Lefkowitz,
ling happens to
*s mother. »
) insure himse]
llars more, the

. to receive the
e later assigned -

Me

the insurance policy to his friend and

Aa

Benny for thirty thousand dollars more.

y

*: Lefkowitz smiled in the dark and went to sleep. —

Se ge eas
Ah }

orning, eager to get their well planned plot under way.
* Lefkowitz watched over them as they rented a row-

“boat, and he found an opportunity to thrust seventy-five

# dollars and a card into Rubinzahl’s hand.

“Call me at the number on that card when it’s done,”
“he said. Then, though he knew that in a few minutes the
boy would be dead, he joked with Benny, in loud tones

‘wishing him good fishing and in low tones assuring him

~~ that he would be on hand with the motorboat. He saw
“the boys off and then, instead of seeking a motorboat,

those in the boat he was the brains, the number one man,
the only one really in the know about the big cash prize.
Full of self-importance, he took the oars, for he wanted
to pick the spot for his act. Nigger Rubinzahl sat in the
stern and Shorty Greenberg took his place in the bow.

It was choppy in the bay that morning. Gales had swept
the ocean offshore during the night and the water was
still rough.

“Sg much the better,” thought Benny. The bay would
not be crowded with boats, and the choppiness would
make it difficult for those in other boats to see that the

ERONT PAGE DETECTIVE

partner, Lefkowitz. he ee
‘In April, 1924, they had added a policy for fifteen thousand satay
dollars, and in September another like’ it. This made forty
= thousand dollars’ worth of policies in one company, the Met- .
@ |. ropolitan Life. When Benny had gone to them for another
Whig policy, they had shied off.» *- Bee

“Forty thousand is plenty,” they said, “for a young fellow
of your age.” But Lefkowitz had overcome that difficulty by
going to another company, the New York Life, and insuring

Though Benny had always known that the policies were. §
taken only for the purpose of ultimately defrauding the in-_ .
surance companies, Lefkowitz had not, until recently, drawn
his attention to a certain clause in all of them which stated
that in case the insured man died as the result.of an accident,
the death benefit would be doubled. Seventy thousand dol-

* Jars made $140,000—a prize worth while! ff
Badly though they all may have slept, they were all four ,
Lefkowitz; Benny, Nigger Rubinzahl and Shorty Green-
erg—at the boat.landing in Gravesend Bay by 7 30 the next

“Those boys drowned Benny 80 they could

blackmall me!” pleaded Joseph Lefko-

witz when his “perfect crime” fizzled. Lef-

kowltz appears above (center) being con-

ducted to Sing Sing’s death house. by
' officers.

““NIGGER DID IT"

\ Far left: “I threw Goldstein a rope and
tried to save him after Rubinzahl pushed
him In the water,’’. claimed dull-looking
“Shorty” Greenberg. “Then I hollered for

help.”

\

“SHORTY URGED ME"

Left: “Shorty winked at me, urging me to

push Benny Into the water,” sald “Nigger” ;

Rubinzahl. “Finally | did. Shorty threw

out a rope, and Benny grabbed it. Then
Shorty let go... .”

drowning was faked. Benny. rowed straight toward the
middle of the bay, passing close to one other boat, that of
“Captain” Sidney Hinman, to whom the bay was a
veritable home. At a good distance beyond Hinman,
Benny rested his oars. :
Greenberg winked over Benny’s head to ‘Rubinzahl,
signalling that now was the time to get Benny overboard.
Rubinzahl was facing Benny, who was looking right at

him. It was impossible to acknowledge Greenberg’s

signal.

Greenberg winked again. Still Rubinzahl sat, pretend-
ing to be busy with tackle. Greenberg felt the need of
action. He had to do something. For a moment he thought
of cloutin;; Benny on the head from behind, but realized
that it mipht be seen from other boats. To relieve his ner-
vousness hic shed his sweater and trousers, and in the
bathing suit he was wearing under them leaped over the
side for a swim. He swam all the way around the boat.
The water was icy cold, and Shorty trembled when he
thought of his companion’s fate. Nevertheless, to encour-
age Benn’, he shouted that the water was fine. When he
climbed | ick to his place in the bow he was shivering,
and he continued to shiver even after he had donned his
clothes. (Continued on page 128)


128

ways of the rotunda that stands in
homage of Thomas Jefferson.

The day selected for the death of
Sam McCue.dawned cold and clear. A
perennial mountain frost. covered the
prison yard with a sheen of crystal and
made the scaffold glisten in the rising
sun. At 7:35 McCue, wearing a serene
smile and disclaiming.aid, walked the
fateful steps to his doom.

Twenty-five minutes later three
ministers of Charlottesville churches, |
representing the Presbyterian, Baptist,
and Episcopalian faiths, stated to
swarming reporters who had been
barred from the hanging that McCue
had confessed his guilt, and that the
brutal murder of his wife “had been

FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE

impelled by an evil power beyond his
control.”

That should have ended the tragedy
—but it didn’t. Within twenty-four
hours the state was swept with wild
rumors, which later were given tre-
mendous publicity in ‘newspapers .
throughout the country. McCue’s hang-

- ing had been attended only by two

physicians, two prison officials, three:
ministers, and one reporter, besides the
scaffold attendants. Only his closest
friends were later allowed to see his
body. He had tremendous political
power and influence. The result was
that thousands refused to believe Sam
McCue had died upon the gallows, be-
ing convinced that another had died

in his place while the condemned killer
was spirited out of the country.

Even today many residents of Albe-
marle and Charlottesville, to whom the
shocking death of Mrs. McCue is still a
vivid memory, shake their heads mean

ingly and repeat the words that the
convicted man uttered calmly from the

darkness of his cell: a vee
“I. won’t be hanged and I shall
commit suicide.” ave,

_ But there is the: evidence of a grave»

in Albemarle, and an imposing marb
headstone.’*-Many more. Virginia

. scoffing at the weird tales, assert that
in reality Sam McCue lies beneath the
green grass of Albemarle, * having

atoned for his ghastly crime. ©

sgt” eh

Sa ¢

patrolma
Goldsteir
drownin;
every sul
such at tl.
The pa}
next mor

q Gravesenc

HEN,
os" he ha
~ give him:
* ceived Ru

~he was r
* filled at th
~ of »witnes
. but with r

MURDER AT CONEY ISLAND

. (Continued from page 59) - fe

~ for detect
' croscopes,
» chemicals.

He nodded over Benny’s head again
at Rubinzahl. silently shaping the
word “now... now” with his mouth. —

Rubinzahl looked out over the water
to see how near they were to other
fishermen. Captain Hinman’s boat was
the nearest, and it was moving farther
away. Nigger Rubinzahl’ turned. to
Benny, licking his suddenly dry lips.:

“Change seats with me, Benny,” he
said in a strained voice. “Gimme the
oars. Let me row awhile.” . ;

“T ain’t tired yet,” answered Benny.
He too looked out over the water. He
saw no motorboat, but decided that it
would be easier to fall overboard from
the stern when the time came.

He stood up and stepped toward Ru-.

binzahl, who also stood up. As they
were passing each other, ‘standing
close to keep the boat-on an even keel,
Rubinzahl: leaned his: weight against
Benny, pushed hard with both arms,
and, to save himself from following
Benny overboard, fell back on the
gunwale. ou

Benny, his eyes wide with aston-
ishment and terror, plunged over the
side waving-his arms, In the second
before he hit the water he caught the
expression in the eyes of Nigger. and

’ Shorty, and then he knew that this
was no surprise to:them, knew that he
was being double-crossed—knew that
Lefkowitz, too, since the motorboat
was not in sight, had tricked him. Then
he went down, seeing nothing but cold,
green water, tasting nothing but bit-
ter, choking sea. - .

He rose quickly to the surface and
shouted with gurgling horror: ‘Help!
Help!” :

The two boys in: the boat stared
transfixed as they saw the despairingly
outstretched hand sink again into the
water. Then a sécond time Benny
fought his way up, this time more
weakly.

“Help!” But there was no help. Ben-

ny could see Nigger and Shorty sit-
ting there, bobbing ‘up and -down in
the boat and looking at him. He could
see that they were frightened, but they
made no effort to save him. And now .
he was growing spent, finding it hard
‘to yell and to fight off salty, strangling
death, ‘ Aine
_ From the boat Greenberg watched,
hardly breathing. Benny was making .
a terrible racket. Suppose’ he’ didn’t
drown? It would look better if he pre-

tended to try to save him. He grabbed

SING SING BOUND”

' Guarded by a burly detective, Joseph

Lefkowitz (center) and Irving Rubin-
zahl (right) embark for Sing Sing, one
doomed to the wired chair, the other to

a prison term. a oa

torn of the boat and threw the end. 0:
-it toward Benny, It was too short. In
. a stupid effort to make it reach he tried 79

. "She was Mrs, Josephine Alne

-vassertion,. (°“

5 tee ve

a length of

clothes-line from ihe ‘bot

to push it as if it were a pole, The sec

ond time he pushed it he let go,.and it”

‘floated like a white’snake on the water.
» Once more Benny‘went. under,’An
this time‘only the top of his head came.
to the surface. Then even that:.was @
gohe. and Benny did not come up)

again, He was dead, and Shorty:Gréen:

berg and Nigger Rubinzahl had earned |
a little more than

het

n three hundred do
lars apiece... 4

the boys talked. Rubinzahl was to re

prepared 's
ory.

Pa eas a

‘she accused them on the spot of push
ing Benny’ overboard and making no.
effort to save him. A patrolman came
#. -up, and she told him they. ought to be
. arrested. Everybody: shouted: at once

| © when the patrolman took out his noter}:
i book. Greenberg screamed that he had #
. certainly tried to save Goldstein. He
“had jumped in the water and tried to
drag him back to the boat. He pulled
“up his sweater and showed his wet ©

bathing suit. beneath

nig 2

it to prov

’

The . patrolman had not see

had been in the water recently, Th

; a ade %
» Rubinzahl took the oars and started_
rowing toward the landing. Neither o

he
‘drowning, but he was used to these
shouting disputes. He had to make a
report, and he insisted that everybody.
quiet down and give him’ the names.
’ He had seen.no evidence of anything
- improper. Greenberg looked as if he™

collecting
insurance
‘the two :

+
i
Seles

and that i:
‘plot was ax
* ~The ‘ver:
anonymou:
/told the di
é “the drowni
hat it was
LOA seconc
‘self as that

another go‘
fin the wat

rought « S;
Benny's br
ith them.

about it. “J

Read INSIDE DETECTIVE, companion

magazine to "FRONT PAGE.” T
issue now on sale—Only 10c¢ +


118 New York City, 1664-1710

liam Merritt, John Merritt. and William Nicolls. The insurgents
rarely left the confines of New York City, but they did break
into the house of Daniel Whitehead. a Queens County justice of
the peace. **

Frenchmen and renegade Dutch burghers who associated
closely with the English or held positions of trust within the
government also received harsh treatment. Leisler’s men al-
legedly commandeered seven full and six half-barrels of gun-
powder belonging to Gabriel Minvielle., a native of Bordeaux
who was mayor of New York for the 1684-1685 term. The lieu-
tenant governor arrested Jacob De Kay and Brandt Schuyler.
both representatives of wealthy Dutch families, and Dirck Van-
derburgh, a Dutch mason who later became a member of Trinity
Church. Leisler treated the vitriolic Nicholas Bayard with recip-
rocal hostility and kept him in prison for several months.*°

Jacob Leisler held power in New York for almost two years,
but he could not maintain his quasi-executive status indefinitely.
On January 4. 1690, William and Mary commissioned a new
governor, Colonel Henry Sloughter, a professional soldier. Per-
haps acting under the influence of Francis Nicholson, who re-
ceived the post of lieutenant governor of Virginia as a reward
for his services in the Dominion of New England, the monarchs
filled the New York Council with men unfriendly to the rebel-
lion, including Nicholas Bayard, Gabriel Minvielle, William
Nicolls. Frederick Philipse, and Stephen Van Cortlandt.*®

44 **4 Modest and Impartial Narrative.’ pp. 681-82.

45 **At a Council Held at Fort William Henry,’” Apr. 13, 1691. DHNY, Il,
371; Purple, **Varleth Family,’ p. 89; “A Modest and Impartial Narrative.”
‘Governor Sloughter to Lord Nottingham,’ May 6, 1691, DRNY, Ill, O73;
760; Con. Lib., May 13. 1686, XIII, 225-26; Min. Ves., p. 46.

46 “Draft of a Commission for Henry Sloughter, Esquire, to be Governor of
New York. and Order in Council Thereupon,’ Jan. 4, 1690; ‘Instructions for

Leisler’s Rebellion 119

Governor Sloughter and Major Richard Ingoldsby (also
spelled Ingoldesby), the commander of two royal infantry com-
panies dispatched to New York by the king, set sail from En-
gland on December |, 1689. Winter storms butfeted the ships
near the Bermudas. and the governor's vessel, the Archangel
suffered damage on the rocks. The crippled man-of-war sought
refuge in the islands, but the three remaining craft sailed on and
reached New York late in January. Taking it upon himself to
reduce the colony in Sloughter’s absence, Ingoldsby immedi-
ately demanded possession of the city’s fort, but Leisler refused
to surrender to a major who was unable to produce official or-
ders.**

Tension increased as both parties awaited the new governor,
and Leisler accused Ingoldsby of having *‘fomented and in-
vented distinctions among his Majesty’s Subjects of the English
and Dutch Nations, whereby woeful divisions have arisen to a
degree of hate that threatens the destruction of each other.’ The
rebel leader complained of the ‘‘Implacable malice and Vio-
lence’? of his detractors, who ‘‘encouraged and _ protected
avowed Papists in arms,’’ and declared the ‘‘Major his evil
councillors and all their confederates to be enemies to God,
their present Majesties and the peace and welfare of this people
and Province.’’ **

Pushed beyond his endurance, Leisler on March 17 ordered
his men in the fort to fire on the approximately five hundred sol-
diers and militiamen from nearby communities whom Ingoldsby

Colonel Henry Sloughter. Governor of New York,”’ Jan. 31, 1689, DRNY,
UI, 623, 685.

47 **Governor Sloughter to Lord Nottingham,” pp. 340-45; ‘*Leisler’s Pro-
test against Major ingoldesby,’’ Jan. 31, 1691, DHNY, II, 320-21.

48 “Declaration of Leisler and His Party against Major Ingoldesby and His
Council.’”’ Mar. 16, 1691, DANY, I, 340-45.


16 New York City, 1664-1710

Leisler’s control over Long Island and the Hudson Valley
was in fact more titular than effective. He did not maintain sus-
tained communications with the predominantly English anu-
Dominion insurgents on Long Island, who looked more to Bos-
ton than to Manhattan for direction. As lieutenant governor
Leisler did not even appoint a councilor from the eastern end of
Long Island, and at the western end in Queens County he faced
an uprising led by the Englishman, Major Thomas Willett. in
June 1690. Leisler did name William Lawrence and Thomas
Williams to his council from Orange and Westchester Counties
respectively, but neither of these less developed areas seems to
have contributed substantially to the uprising.*”

Leisler’s Rebellion lacked that aspect of the other uprisings of
the late seventeenth century which made them in part efforts to
guarantee the rights of Englishmen to American colonists.
Leisler corresponded with Coode, but their letters show little ex-
cept a common fear ot Catholics. Leisler’s attempts to organize
an intercolonial military program appear to be only practical
steps taken to protect his own endangered province.*®

Captain Leisler’s failure to enunciate clearly his advocacy of
the rights of Englishmen was not the result of the unfortunate
absence of an able propagandist. Rather his silence reflected the
foreignness of the concept to his thinking. Leisler did revive the
colonial assembly, whose short life James UH had abruptly
ended, but he acted reluctantly and only when he desperately
needed support for raising revenues. When the delegates
broached the subject of English liberties, Leisler prorogued the

tion in America. 1660-1692 (New York, 1972), pp. 312-14; Alice P. Kenney,
“Dutch Patricians in Colonial Albany,” New York History, XLIX (July
1968), 249-83.

39 Lovejoy, Glorious Revolution, pp. 322-23, ‘Appointment of Leisler’s
Council,” Dec. 11, 1689, DHNY, Il, 45.

49 Lovejoy, Glorious Revolution, p. 284.

Leisler’'s Rebellion 117

frst session. and he rejected a bill which the second session
passed to secure such rights. *!

In fact. almost all the New Yorkers who had led the 1680s
quest to guarantee the mghts of Englishmen to the colony's in-
habitants opposed the insurgency. Most of them were English-
men. as indeed were as many as twelve of the eighteen
members of the original colonial assembly of 1683. Only one
survivor of that ill-fated gathering, which endorsed the Charter
of Liberties and set up English land and court systems in the
province. supported Leisler.*?

**Papist’” was Leisler’s favorite epithet. but few of these re-
sided in New York at the time. Despite rumors that 200 Catho-
lic soldiers intent on massacring Protestants had taken up posi-
tions on nearby Staten Island, the only Romanist troops in the
city at this time were two regulars stationed at Fort Amsterdam.
In 1696. Governor Benjamin Fletcher reported that only i0
Catholics lived within the bounds of the municipality. **

Lacking Catholics, the Leislerians directed their wrath at their
English Protestant neighbors, who were logically their allies.
The rich merchants and affluent tradesmen of that group “ ho
were hostile to the uprising earned speciai scorn. Bands of
rebels beat John Crooke and Edward Taylor, and Lieutenant
Governor Leisler from time to time had arrested or seized the
goods of Robert Allison, Thomas Clarke, Philip French. Wil-

41 Tbid., p. 33. Lovejoy argues that Leisler was part of this quest to secure
the rights of Englishmen. See also John Murrin, ‘‘English Rights as Ethnic
Aggression: The English Conquest, the Charter of Liberties of 1683. and
Leisler’s Rebellion in New York’’ (Paper presented at American Histoncal
Association Convention. San Francisco, 1973), p. 13.

‘2 Murrin, ‘‘English Rights.”” p. 13.

'3 ++ Affadavit against Col. Bayard and Certain Parties on Staten Island.”
Sept. 25. 1689, DHNY, Il, 28-30: “Colonel Bayard’s Narrative:* ** Names of
the Roman Catholics in the City of New York.”’ June 13, 1696. DRNY. itl,
640; IV. 166.


120 New York City, 1664-1710

had drawn together in the town. A civilian laborer. Josiah
Browne, fell dead, and seven of his tellow New Yorkers and
one of the king’s soldiers were wounded.*?

Henry Sloughter finally reached New York on March 19 and
swore in his councilors, except tor Nicholas Bayard and Wil-
liam Nicolls whom the rebels held in their jail. He sent Major
Ingoldsby to demand again the surrender of the fort. but Leisler
delayed. He dispatched Ensign Joost Stoo! to make sure that
Sloughter had arrived; this young militiaman knew the new gov-
ernor from the court of William and Mary where he, despite his
poor knowledge of English, had served as the insurgents’
envoy. After Stool confirmed Sloughter’s presence, Leisler sent
Jacob Milborne and Pieter De La Noy to discuss the terms of
the capitulation. The new governor, however, refused to engage
in negotiations which would constitute quasi recognition of
Leisler’s authority, and instead arrested the emissaries.”°

On the following day, Ingoldsby, supported by the presence
of Sloughter’s man-of-war in the harbor, again approached the
fort and requested its surrender. When he offered amnesty to all
the rebels except the ringleaders, the nearly four hundred’men
inside laid down their weapons and deserted. The major then
entered the fort and took Leisler and his councilors into cus-
tody.”!

Soon after, a grand jury indicted Jacob Leisler, Jacob Mil-
borne, Pieter De La Noy, Abraham Gouverneur, and Geradus
Beeckman for murder and treason; Samuel Edsall, Abraham
Brazier, Mindert Coerten, Johannes Vermilje, and Thomas Wil-

*9 “Governor Sloughter to Lord Nottingham,” p. 760; Lawrence H. Leder,
ed., ‘‘Records of the Trials of Jacob Leisler and His Associates,”’ New-York
Historical Society Quarterly, XX VI (Oct. 1952), 449-50.

°° **Governor Sloughter to Lord Nottingham;’’ “‘Governor Sloughter to the
Committee,"’ May 7, 1691, DRNY, III, 759-60, 762-63.

°l **Governor Sloughter to the Committee.’ May 7, 1691, ibid.. pp.
766-67.

Leisler's Rebellion 121

liams for treason; and several others for riot. On March 26,
Governor Sloughter commissioned a court of oyer and terminer
composed entirely of Englishmen to conduct the trials. The
judges demanded that the defendants speak in English and
abused at least one of the men accused of riot for answering in
Dutch. When the defendant complained that the requirement
was unfair and asked for an interpreter. the Dutch grandee Ste-
phen Van Cortlandt allegedly translated his statement to the
court ‘‘in a very mischievous. false and perverted manner.” *°

Captain Leisler denied the jurisdiction of the justices and
refused to plead until the king passed judgment on the legality
of his seizure of control of the colony. His son-in-law Milborne
also chose to remain silent. but all the other defendants denied
their guilt. Edsall and his son-in-law De La Noy convinced the
jurors of their innocence. but the court sentenced Gouverneur to
death by hanging for murdering Josiah Browne by shooting him
in the chest. The jurors also declared Leisler. Milborne, and |
Beeckman guilty of murder and treason; Brazier, Coerten. Ver-
milje, and Williams guilty of treason; and condemned all seven
to the usual punishment reserved for traitors. The prisoners were
ordered ‘thanged by the Neck and being Alive their bodys be
Cutt Downe to the Earth, that their Bowells be taken out and
they being Alive burnt before their faces that their heads shall
be struck off and their Bodyes Cutt in four parts and which shall
be Deposed of as their Majties Shall Assigne.’’ Governor
Sloughter granted most of the prisoners reprieves and admitted
them to bail, but he ordered Leisler and Milborne to be executed
by hanging and decapitation on May 17, 1691.°°

52 Leder. ed., **Records of the Trials."’ p. 436; **Anonymous Deposition of

a Defendant,’’ n.d., Documents Relating to the Administration of Leisler, 1
the Coll. NYHS, 1 (1868). 313.

53 Leder, ed.. ‘Records of the Trials,” pp. 440-42. 445-48. 452: “{n-
tended Letter of Governor Sloughter to Secretary Blathwayt,”’ July 1691,
DRNY, Ill, 789.


122 New York City, 1664-1710

Leisier’s Rebellion almost undid the social fabric of New
York City, and the vengeance sought by his enemies was a
measure of their fright. The rebellion had its roots in the indi-
vidual and group frustrations which developed from the changes
wrought in the municipality during English rule. Unfortunately,
Leisler’s successes did not retrieve the happy past which history
had stolen, and his ultimate failure bequeathed only intensified
antagonisms to the future.

cal

=

=
ag
Se

6 SS Gimic Politics

Jacob Leisler’s execution momentarily. restored stability to
New York City’s politics. but his death could not alter the
divisions which separated its residents. Leisler’s enemies held
frm control of the colony during most ot the 1690s, but the ar-
rival of the Earl of Bellomont as governor in 1698 revitalized
the rebels. During Bellomont’s short tenure. the Anti-
Leislerians and the Leislerians again struggled for power. The
contest culminated. after the governor's death. in the disputed
New York City elections of 1701. which demonstrated the crit-
ically important relationship between national background and
political allegiance in Manhattan.

The early 1690s marked the completion of the English con-
quest of New York. The failure of Leisler discredited the Dutch
who opposed the new order, and in the aftermath of the rebel-
lion the English were able to translate their growing numerical
and economic strength into firm control of the city. While Leis-
ler’s disciples remained under restraint, the English leaders took
from the government major economic benefits for themselves
and their allies and made the Anglican Church the legal re-
ligious establishment. Tensions between ordinary English and
Dutch citizens relaxed, and the English influence pervaded the
city’s institutions.

Colonel Sloughter died suddenly on July 23, 1691, and after
several months during which Ingoldsby ruled. Benjamin
Fletcher became governor in August 1692. Like his predeces-


RS. Rose German lived in the

apartment alongside the
Leontis, on the same floor, but in
the front. She told the detective
that she knew nothing about Anna
Leonti’s death. A sound sleeper,
she was even ignorant of the fight

“T was up until four in the morn-
ing,” the woman told Murray ner-
vously. “‘“My husband had to do a
double shift, but I didn’t know
about it until he got home. I was
worried why he didn’t come at
oth as hears and I couldn’ t Gets a

>

“How abort in the
The janitress says there was a fight
down there. Did you hear that?”
The woman thought a while be-
fore answering. “Yes,” she finally
admitted. “It sounded like men
fighting. and cursing. That must
have been somewhere between
1:30 and 2 o'clock.”
“Did you go out to investigate?”
“No, I didn’t.”

* * *

AX Schrieber ran the delica-

.tessen in the building. He lived
one flight up, on the same floor
with the janitress.

“This morning I opened for bus-
iness at six,” he told Detective
Murray. “A few minutes later,
Leonti and his wife came down-
stairs, He had coffee and a piece
of cake. His wife looked as though
she didn’t feel well. She didn't eat
anything.

“When Leonti gat chaaaal with
his coffee he said, ‘Well, I guess
I'll go up now and wake Jack. Time
for him to open his restaurant.’
Jack is Jack Natale, Anna’s
husband.

“A few minutes later Leonti
came running downstairs like he
was mad. He was screaming ‘My
daughter!’ and yelling something
else in Italian. He went looking for
a cop. That's the first I knew
about ‘it.”

“What time did you close up last
night?” the detective asked.

“Not until three a.m,—last night
was Saturday,” Schrieber ex-
plained. “Around eleven, I saw
Anna Leonti on her way hame. She
passed the door of my store. At
one o'clock her father’ walked by,
and I suppose he went upstairs. At
two or thereabouts I noticed... .”

Murray interrupted. “There was
a fight in the hall between 1:30 and
1:45. Didn’t you step out and see
it?”

“No,” said the delicatessen pro-
prietor. “During that time I was
down in my cellar stockroom, I
heard a lot of noise but I didn’t
know what it was... . However,

toaee a a


first fell to the floor and was later
moved to the bed. You’ve probably
noticed that there’s blood near the
bed. That didn’t leak through.”

“There was noise then?”

“At least one scream, I'd -say.”

Wallace ruminated over this in-
formation, remembering what Murray
had told him about Schrieber’s having
heard a cry at three o’clock. That was
an hour after Jack Natale was seen
entering the house!

“What we've got to do now,” the
detective said, “is find the murder
knife.”

But an exhaustive search of the
entire apartment failed to disclose the
weapon, “Funny,” Wallace observed.
“Maybe the murderer was fool
enough to take it with him.”

* * *

T THIS moment Detective Murray

was hurrying to Natale’s restaur-
ant on East First Street. For where
else could the girl’s husband be, the
officer figured. To change his daily
routine, to flee—that would be cer-
tain admission of guilt. No, Natale’s
story would probably be that he left
home earlier than usual, that his
wife was killed after his departure.

The restaurant door proved to be
locked. Murray knocked—no answer.
Then, peering through the glass front,
the detective saw what appeared to
be a man’s body stretched out on a
long counter. The detective rapped
sharply, pressing his weight against
the door.

Slowly, the figure reared itself and
slid to a standing position. The door
opened and Murray was confronted
by a short, stocky, black-haired man
who answered perfectly Leonti’s des-
cription of Anna’s husband. He was
dressed in disheveled trousers and a
sweater, under which there was no
shirt.

“Come with me,” the detective
commanded, showing his shield.

* * *

ACK Natale was led to the apart-
ment-on Broome street and brought
abruptly into the presence of his
wife’s dead body. The expressions on
his face, closely watched, were typical
of bewilderment, then incredulity, and
finally heart-rending grief. Natale fell

to his knees. “She’s dead!” he wailed. °

His verbal lamentations ceased as he
broke into paroxysms of child-like
sobbing.

Later, apparently making a’ great
effort to control himself, he beseeched
the detectives with wide-open eyes.
“What fiend did this to her?”

The faces of the officers were hard,
their lips tight, their eyes steely.
“Quit acting, Natale!” one of them
told him. “Don’t be asking questions
—you tell us!”

“TJ—I don’t understand... .” Natale
began.

“Where were you at two o'clock

46

last night?” a sleuth snapped.

“I came here. I knocked on the
door. I—”

“What time did you leave?”

“Immediately. I couldn’t get in the
apartment. I went back downstairs
and out into the street... .”

“And then where did you go?”

“To my restaurant. I had nowhere
else to sleep.”

Suddenly a. plainclothesman who

had just arrived at the scene, snap-
ped: “What became of your shirt?
Why are you going around wearing
a sweater?”

“Somebody tore it off my back.
; a
“You didn’t by any chance burn it
up because it had blood on it, did
you? Come on, Natale, out with the
story. Why’d you stab your wife?
Because she was running around with
other guys?”

Natale’s face went white. He started
to speak, stammered, stopped. Finally,
in a voice that was low and distant,
he asked: “You think I killed her?
My God, I loved her!” And then his
voice rose, getting louder and louder.
“J didn’t kill her! I don’t know
anything about it. I wasn’t here. I
wasn't. .;.”

Another detective broke in. “All
right, cut it. Let’s go over to the
station house. Maybe you’ll talk
there. Maybe when you face her
parents, ...”

* * *

T POLICE headquarters, Giuseppe

Leonti was violent in his denuncia- |

tions of his son-in-law. “He is to
blame,” he cried. “He killed my
daughter!”

When Assistant District Attorney
Miles O’Brien came to the station
house, he queried Natale at great
length as to his movements the night
before. “What happened to your
shirt?” O’Brien insisted on knowing.

“T got in a fight,” Natale answered.
“It was torn off my back. That was
around 1:30, maybe 1:45.”

“Where was the fight?”

“On the ground floor of my father-
in-law’s house—248 Broome street.
Three guys jumped me in the hall. I
don’t know what they wanted. Maybe
they intended to rob me. I got away
from them, but they tore the shirt
off my back!”

“248 Broome street,” Detective
Murray repeated. He and Wallace
looked interested.

“Yes,” Natale went on. “They

‘ chased me from the building. But

fifteen minutes later, after they were
gone, I returned and knocked on my
father-in-law’s door. He didn’t open
it. He told me to go away. I said I'd
go if he’d give me a shirt, but he
wouldn’t. even do that... .”

“Can you prove what you say?
Anybody see you?”

Natale reflected. “No... . Yes—wait

a minute. There was a woman in the
hall. She offered me & shirt but I
wouldn't take it.”

“Who was the woman?”

“J don’t know. An Italian woman,

that’s all.”

“Where was she stariding?”

“It looked as if she was standing in
the door of the rear apartment, the
one next to Leonti’s.”

Detective Murray’s face wore a
puzzled look, then it brightened sud-
denly. “Hold everything!” he ex-
claimed.

Through his mind were racing ir-
reconcilable thoughts: The look on
the face of the boy, Joe, when told

of his sister’s murder—of grief, yes, ..
but of long-contained grief, nothing
of surprise or shock or amazement:
. . . Of the scream tHe delicatessen -

proprietor, Schrieber, had heard at
three o'clock . . . Of Rosa Lori, who
admitted being awake at that hour—
yet she had heard nothing though she
lay a dozen feet from the murder room.
.. . Of the physical lay-out of the
Leonti apartment, and how it was
necessary for the killer to. escape
through the bedroom in which Leonti
and his wife were sleeping . . . Of the
look on the Italian mother’s face
when first questioned... .

All these thoughts now merged in
the detective’s consciousness and
formed a pattern—a new one.

* * *

HISPERING to the district at-

torney, Murray beckoned to
Detective Wallace, and together they
left the station house. Again they
went to 248 Broome street and
climbed to the third floor of the
tenement. A moment later they were
admitted to the kitchen of a woman
they had questioned previously.

“Mrs. Lori,” Murray said, “you told
us that last night you didn’t ‘stir from
your apartment, that you remained in
your bedroom until your husband
came home at four.”:

The woman nodded, mystified.

“Then,” Murray shot out, “how is it
that at two a.m. you Were seen offer-
ing a shirt to Jack Natale in the
hall?”

Mrs. Lori’s face grew red as a sun-
set. She began shaking nervously,

gasping at the mouth and catching:

at her throat with her hands. “I
didn’t want to admit it,” she finally

* muttered, her eyes cast down. “My

husband wouldn’t like me being a

_ witness in a murder case. Not that

I know anything—only the son-in-
law knocking next ddor and me of-
fering him a shirt he didn’t take.”

“How did you happen to be in the
hall?”

“I heard him knock. I thought
someone was at my door.”

“And you heard the sounds of the
fight in the hall. fifteen or twenty
minutes before?”

SPECIAL DETECTIVE CASES

“Yes,”

“But at thr:
hear a scream-

“Yes. No. \
something, I d:

The vec"
flustered

Under c
and skillful qi
ually broke d
moaned. “I wi
hallway from
you all I hear

The detecti:
creasing intere
out the fruits
age. When sh
her story they *
Street headqu
first placed i
Leonti, and t,
tioned. Later I¥
from the mot)
other cubicle °
District Attor:
ther queries.

“Whenever
the line-up
ways soft
Sarge up wi
Irish Ey
Smiling.’"’

first time for
“Didn’t you
this wallet?”
pointedly.
Davis open
forced to swa!
he could answ
it was. I seen
the street. Iw
what was up.
so I stick a
Then I jump
and there I’

SPECIAL DETECT!


eee eee

ere wees

a

turned back to the officers, “J was

Ppar

daughter, his body weaving back-
wards and forwards. “Eighteen
years old,” he moaned. “Eighteen,
that’s all, my poor beautiful Anna

—and not two weeks married. . ge

* * *

T HE Italian led Agard back to the

kitchen, and slumped into a chair
near his wife. The woman raised
her head, her tear-filled eyes mir-
roring sorrow and fright.

“Who did it?” the Officer de-
manded.

“O figlia mia! Oh my daughter!”
the woman moaned.

At this point Detective Charles
Wallace of the 7th detective squad
arrived with two uniformed patrol-
men. Taking over the questioning,
Wallace extracted from Giuseppe
Leonti a bizarre tale.

“My daughter was fallen wo-
man,” the father began, sitting sto-
lidly, staring at the floor. “I try to
raise her right, but no good. She
love money. She know only one
way to make it, the easy way....

“Until March lst my wife,
daughter, and boy Joe live at 78
Rivington Street. I sell the fish. I
make a little money but not enough
for my Anna. She want_the dress
pretty, the underwear silk. She
want to paint and powder her face
and curl her hair and smell sweet.

“The middle of February Anna
leave home. I don’t know where she
go. I don’t see her. Somebody tell
me she getta room on 17th Street.
She walk the block. She pick up
men. She sell herself.

“I go to the 17th Street and hunt
for her, but I don’t find her. I go to
police station, but they don’t find
her either. More people tell me they
see her going to houses—bad
houses. My daughter is a—”

Before he could utter the dread
word, the woman at the table
gasped. Her lips opened, and she
looked as though she were about to
speak,

Leonti silenced his wife and

vReled "aCe Beate

Leonti pointed at his dead

directly beneath the Leontis, Awak-
ened from a heavy sleep, she re-
plied to Detective Murray’s
questions groggily.

“Little Anna!” she exclaimed,
surprised. “Murdered! How terri-
ble! No, I know nothing about it.
I was up late last night, but I didn’t
hear anything from the Leonti’s
apartment—or see anything.”

“You were up late,” Murray
quoted. “What were you doing?”

“Standing on the stoop until one
o'clock, talking and thinking,” the
woman replied. “You can prove it
by Mr. Leonti, He came home about
that time and I went upstairs just
ahead of him, ... Wait a minute,
now I remember something. But it
doesn’t have to do with the Leonti’s
flat. It was downstairs. Just after
I dropped off to sleep, I was awak-
ened by an awful racket, I stepped
out of my door and looked over the
banister, and there were some men
fighting in the street-level hall. I
don’t know who they were. That
must have been around 1:30 or
1:45, They were cursing.”

7 i]
occupied the first-floor apartment

RS. Rose

apartme
Leontis, on tl}
the front. Sh
that she knew
Leonti’s deat!
she was even

dn:

Hf

RY
Aes

IE STO

my husband,”
to be outdone inso-
ons were concerned,
t. “You’re a liar! I
nan I married.” -
ness after witness”
me contended that +4
ag; others said’
bservers main- %
. .ightful case of — |
the rest felt that %
leading a dual life.
»0th women. 4
red an explanation.» ;
believe,” she said,” =
‘ has been ‘fooling,
Hoag he lived part 1
me. The rest of the 4
ame of Parker an
her woman.”

ve you?” asked th

tht a moment; then
jay night he hit his
or just before going =

He held up his fee’
rs of the jury. |.
, vs. Parker trium
't even a scratch.” 7
ainst Parker were —
an unusual case,”* 3
d. “No doubt Mrs. ul
‘ars a striking res
ker. But this de«:
t.” . .
sed joyously out of °”
hen they reached —
sand turned to his z
thing you rubbed 4
ruise on my leg— > 4
“lack and blue. |
king me in my
u'll lose me to ;
like Mrs. Hoag.”

SIAL DETECTIVE CASES 1

“

“No, but even if he had I wouldn't

“hhave.seen him. I went back in the

store and stayed inside until I closed.
But at three o'clock, just after I got
inside the door of my apartment, I
heard a woman scream. It sounded
as if it was from somewhere up above
me.”
* * %
EANWHILE, back in the Leonti’s
kitchen, Detective Wallace was

still questioning the father, Giuseppe..

“On March 15th something hap-
pen,” the man told him. “I know a
peddler named Paul. He tell me he
see my daughter go into 247 Brootne
street. I go there. They tell me the
apartment she’s in is a call house,

“I find my daughter. She cries. I
tell her I forgive her and she come
home. First I take her to a doctor
and he examine her.

“A few days later a young fellow
come to my flat and say he want to
marry my daughter. His name is
Jack Natale and he look nice. I am
glad. No longer my daughter a bad
girl. Now she be a respectable mar-
ried woman.

“I tell Natale he marry my
daughter, I set him up in’ business.
I buy him a restaurant. And he and
Anna. come live with us here in this
house.

‘I buy a little cafe on First Street
for five hundred dollar—all I save
in my life. They get married; the
Bervice civile on March 20th and the
Bervice religione on March 23rd. For
a few days Giuseppe Leonti happy!

The girl's brutal murderer (third from right) as he appeared ‘

(Continued from page 35)

“But the happiness, she don’t last
long. Last week people tell the my
Anna carries on with other men,
even in her husband’s restaurant.
Three nights ago she no come home,
nor the night after. Last night I go
look for het, I go to all the bordellos,
but I don’t find her—not until f come
horne.. She is in bed. I say nothing
to her but I go to sleep. I am very
tired.

“At two o'clock there is knock on
the door. f open and it is Antna’s
husband, Jack. For two days he is
like wild man, but now I tell him
Anha is back and he acts quiet. He

‘goes through mine and my wife’s

room and into Anna’s room. My boy
Joe sleeps on cot in kitchen. I go
back to bed and to sleep,

“This morning, my wife and f get
up and go downstairs for some coffee
and cake at Schreiber’s. I come back
to wake my boy Joe, and he goes off
to Canal street to shine shoes on
Sunday. After, I go to Anna’s room
to wake Jack. He not there. She is
alone in the bed and she look funny.
I touch her, she is cold. I pull back
the covers, there is blood. I—”

“Natale!” Detective Wallace inter-
rupted, arnazed. “Your son-in-law!
Where is he? Where is his restaurant?”

‘- Leonti pulled at his hair. His face

flushed. “Sack killed her!” he cried.
The detective turned to the mother.
“What have you to add?”
The woman’s eyes turned to her
husband. They were tear-filled and
red from weeping. Then, seeming to

during the trial for his life.

SPECIAL DETECTIVE CASES

Say UN TREE TS

shrink against the wall, she answered:
“It was Jack. He killed my daughter!”
* * *

OE Leonti came into the apartinent,

his bootblack box slung over his
shoulder. He was closely followed by
Detective Murray and Dr. Thomas A.
Gonzales, Deputy Chief Medical

ner,

Giuseppe Leonti rushed to his son,
quickly informing him of the tragedy.
The detectives watched the boy’s face
closely. Under the circumstances his
expression was strangely impassive,
difficult to reconcile with the situation.

Following a brief conference, the
two officers assigned to the case again
separated. Detective Murray left the
apartment, and after summoning a
patrolman escort, sent Giuseppe
Leonti, his wife, and son to the
Clinton Street station house. There
he knew a representative of the dis-
trict attorney’s office would soon in-
terrogate the family.

While Dr. Gonzales examined the
body, Wallace, assisted by Officer
Agard, began a search of the apart-
ment. Looking through the window
of the murder room, the detective
remarked: “No chance of getting in
or out here, There’s no ledge and no
fire escape.”

“I examined the fire escape in the
front of the house,” Agard said. “It
doesn’t reach the roof, and the ladder
from the bottom platform is drawn
up. Besides, the rusty catches on the
ladder show that it hasn’t been used
in years.”

Detective Wallace scratched his
head. “Which means,” he concluded,
“that whoever did the killing entered
the apartment through the front door,
passed through the Leonti’s bedroom,
then into the rear bedroom, and left
by the same route. Well, that answers

what we've learned of the move- -

ments of Jack Natale.”

Dr. Gonzales called. the officers
over. “She’s been dead,” he an-
nounced, “between five and six hours.
Rigor mortis has begun to set in, but
as yet isn’t very far advanced. It is
now 8:30, This means that she died
sometitne between 2:30 and 3:30.”

“Did she die immediately?” De-
tective Wallace asked. “Would there
have been any time for an outcry?”

“I think she could and probably
would have screamed, unless set upon
while asleep. .. .”

“That's consistent with our. theory.”

“ . . but I don’t think she was
asleep. The direction of the stab
wounds would indicate that she was
standing. Furthermore, I believe she

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.clothing, and held: a job in a Rochester
foundry.

Irene, sitting in the adjoining room; now
twisted a handkerchief and muttered over and
over, “Steve did it, I didn’t think he would.
But Steve did it.’ She hadn’t wanted to in-
volve him before, because she couldn’t believe
he would do it. ae
- The state police decided to bring the pair
together. She was sitting in a swivel chair
when they led Lewis into the room. She was

wearing the dress he liked, one with a big.

flower design, a little tight at the hips and
high at the knees. His. eyes glittered and he
stroked his thin moustache with the long
middle finger of his right hand, smoothing
down the waxy-looking hairs. .

Irene jumped out of the chair and pointed
her trembling fingers at the little man.

“You made a widow out of me!” she
shrieked. “You might have killed me and the
children, too.” '

It was quiet for a moment in the smoke-
filled state police room. The salesman shrugged
and puffed out his lips in disgust. Irene turned
her back on him and clasped her hands tight
against her breast. This is the story she told.

She’d met Stephan Lewis two years before,
in 1950, when she was separated from her
husband. She’d liked the salesman. She’d
liked him a lot and she’d sold vacuum cleaners
with him. ,

But when she’d gone back to her husband
Stephan Lewis still wanted her to sell. vacuum
cleaners. He kept insisting that she go back
45 seving with him..

| Her husband didn’t like the persistent sales:

man. One day he’d dictated a letter-to Lewis
and made Irene sign her name to it.

"Stay Away"

“Stay away from my house. I never want
to see you again. Good-bye,” the letter said.

In the papers taken from Lewis’ desk. the
police found his unmailed answer to Irene’s
good-bye note. ~

“I’m really surprised at the harsh tone of
your note, Irene. After all, my dear, I’ve
grown quite fond of you and want us to be
the best of. friends.”

He’d threatened her husband and_ the
children, too, but Irene said she just couldn’t

‘believe her old friend would carry out his .

threats.
She shuddered, just thinking about it. “If

“Td gone out that back door yesterday morning

instead of Art, he would have killed me.”

She talked on, her voice droning sadly
while Lewis sat smirking, watching her
through the cigaret smoke. When she’d fin-
ished her story she sank into a chair and
hung her head so that her chin rested on
her chest.

The district attorney brought out the 12-
gauge shotgun that had been found in her
lover’s room. Ballistics tests showed that it

-had been the weapon that fired the fatal

shot.

“All right,” Lewis drawled. “I killed him.”
He looked at the widow and his eyes glittered
in contempt. .

“It is true. I did grow fond of Irene as
I think she became fond of me,” he said.
“TI felt that if her husband was out of the

_the hood of his car and leveled it at the

_ the upward path of the shot through th

way she would come back and work
me again.” ee

He’d borrowed the shotgun from his brothe
and thought it over the day before. the shoot
ing. He’d driven his sedan to the Anheie
house and parked across the road. He got out@=
and stood in the darkness for a few minutes
waiting for the miner to come out of _ his
house. He propped the gun barrel against™

back door. haps
He was a short man. That would explai

larger man’s body. It was 3 a.m. Saturday,
November 24, a few hours less than 24 after
the murder when they took Lewis’ state
ment confessing the crime. oe
At 10 that morning he was arraigned before
County Judge’ Philip J. Weiss on a first
degree murder charge on information sworn
to by Sergeant C. A. Stephens. He pleaded
innocent as required by New York law. He
was held in the Genesee County jail in
Batavia, pending action by a grand jury. =

Complete Statement

The following Monday, November 26,
Arthur Anheier’s funeral was held in the”
white farm home. After the miner was buried,
officials asked Mrs. Anheier for a more com-
plete statement which she gave to Inspector
Harry M. DeHollander of the state police.

She told about her last meeting with Lewis
before the murder. It was on a Monday or
Tuesday. He drove up to the house while
her husband was gone and begged her to
go away with him.-He was pale and jumpy.
and mad as a little fighting cock. His thin
moustache quivered and he kept licking his
pink lips and talking in a shrill voice.

She refused to let him in the house so he
stood on the porch and his whole body shook
as he shouted:

“Ym going to have you and have you
soon!”

She drew back afraid. He had never been
so violent and she was not sure he knew
what he was saying.

“If you don’t come with me,” he screamed,
“Til burn the house down!” age

Then she remembered a story the neigh-
bors had .told her. Something about a fire on
his farm, when he’d lived at Byron, not far
from Elbe. He’d burned his own barn, they
said. Irene was really frightened then as she
stared at the little man on the other side of
her screen door.

“111 kill your husband!” he’d screamed.
“And I'll kill the kids, too, if they get in
the way of my having you.”

Then he turned slowly and walked back
to his car. When he got there, he’d calmed.
down, and he just stood there staring at her
and simmering like a little pot of soup.

“Tl be back around Thanksgiving,” he
promised, “I’m going hunting.”

At this writing Stephan Lewis is being held
in jail awaiting action by the Grand Jury.
Mrs. Anheier will appear as a material wit-
ness.

.

Eprror’s Note: To spare embarrassment to
an innocent person, the name Bill Johnson,
used in this story, -is fictitious. ©

U. S. SAVINGS BONDS ARE DEFENSE
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Cluthe Sons, Dept. 17, Bloomfield, New Jersey


way down at the other end
that “Mr. Corkscrew” came
fe. I saw Corky the Shark
over again while fishing out
», Tamps., Mex., with Gomez,
sing Mexican boatman.
as a shark that weighed in
it 135
id every
e fished,
circle
| around,
a chance
our catch
- rubbish
over side.
see his dorsal fin burbling
e Water, but it was like no
ever seen in the movies—
‘1 some submarine battle of
s skark had been wounded.
fin had been broken and
‘il it looked like the tail of
wn Boston bull pup.
aing as we got aboard, Gomez
vith a weird looking bunch
> had a skinned rabbit, a big
ube 4 coil of sash cord and
oat Le like an anchor. He
lar bell!
we nave beeg-es-sport,” he
1 we saw Corky he attached
1 to the inner tube, he tied
tube to the sash cord and
tube over a stanchion. Then,
| making like a cow-
boy, he swung the
baited “anchor”
around his head and
let fly. As Corky lei-
surely circled the
boat, we ignored
him and~< concen-
trated on fishing

rel.
a sudden there was a wild
-£ the cow-bell, the red inner
'ched out to twice its length
0k was “set,” literally, with
e jumped for the sash cord!
ittle!*#The cowbell kept up a
, Corky zigged and. zagged,
- corkscrewing up out of the
ight into the air. You could
ep blue of his back, the yel-
te of his belly. After a great
headed straight for the bot-
ircles that came closer and
the boat. Corky was just
for us. The cord suddenly
< in our hands, and the bell

7 ar ---asional sad note as
on de of the boat. We
y aj ind again, tried for

chickens, and once even tried
ig. But I suppose he is still
1e buoys, making trips to the
bluffs from which a local
house throws its refuse.

The cleanup
spot

THEY CAME AND GO? HIM—John

Kerringer was convicted by a Bronx County.

jury (Come and get me Baby, May FRONT
PAGE, 1952) of second-degree murder in the
death of his girlfriend, Mrs. Jean Mitchell,
and of first degree manslaughter in the
slaying of Mrs. Frances Castello.

AFTER THE JUNK—A jury of 12
women found 16-year-old Robert Hearn
and his three companions guilty of first
degree murder in the holdup-slaying of

Hearn's parents hear jury's verdict.

Alfred Jones, a gas station employe of
Detroit, Mich. (Junk Has Muscles, July
FRONT PAGE, 1952).

JOHNNY STILL GETS DEATH—
A military board of review has upheld the
court martial death sentence of Private
John Vigneault, 19, of Goffs Falls, N. H.
(Johnny Got His Gun, September FRONT
PAGE, 1952).

FINAL SLEEP FOR LEWIS—Stephen
D. Lewis, 43, died in the electric chair
at New York’s Sing Sing prison on the

night of January 8, 1953 for the shooting ~

of Arthur Anheir (She Sleeps a Widow
Tonight, March FRONT PAGE, 1952).

FRONT PAGE SLIP

™@ In The Killer Won’t Wear Of
(February FRONT PAGE), a man,
pictured with a detective who worked
on the case, was wrongly identified as
Ben Campbell. Mr. Campbell (pic-
tured above) spotted the slip and
wrote to say, “That’s not me—I’m not

that old!” Apologies.—ED.

FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE MAGAZINE, May, 1953.

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Mrs. Irene Anheier, widow of
murder victim, told police of
being pursued by married man

LaRoi Anheier examines site
where his brother, Arthur,
was ambushed just before day-
break. Victim was walking to
his car (r.) on way to’ work

TEPHEN DEFOE LEWIS was 42 years old and
S an indifferent farmer. That first fact had noth- t
ing whatever to do with his tragic destiny. The £

; second did. '
’ : In 1948, Lewis lived with his wife-and her three
sons by a previous marriage on the Dayton Wood
Farm, situated on Warboys Road, near the town of
ites B

yron, New York. The farm itself was fertile and
productive. Lewis, however, was not enthusiastic
about agricultural labor, It was hard work and
completely unsuited to his talents.

Stephen Lewis was a dapper man, possessed of a

long, lean face and a small, elegantly trimmed mus-
tache. His build was slight and he wasn’t much
taller than five feet. Withal, he was glib, charming
and his voice carried great conviction. A vocationa]

expert would have pronounced Lewis a potentially
better salesman than farmer. Lewis would have
agreed with him.

In 1950, after two years of desultory farming

The impatient hunter bagged the first trophy @ BY D. L. CHAMPION

‘k his head. “Th
find the gun first.”
{ Undersheriff Wells and
- quick huddle. Ji

d as if there were lent

istant County Attorney fie
ion to the accused, preparing
2 before the grand jury, dis-
€ victim of the knifing had
ta to take a job and did not

0, testify. ;

night, November 18,
gain.

the gun,” he announced. “Jus- =
he new owner taok it home

ening.”

\dergheriff Wells and Burks
arty and in three simultane-
‘d Justus and Joe Siler at

eized the rifle,

§ em Monday, Justus and
aents saying that Oliver had
murdering Stovall. A shell
showed the same firing pin
unis had picked up nearly
at the scene of the crime.
under questioning by Burks
inty Attorney Oliver, Billy
d the crime, and

ya
a ecorder.

d one final shocking foot-
He had murdered Stov-
eclared, through mistaken
meant to kill a different

r

Id the officers that, as a
t often hunted rabbits in
back of Colbertson’s Feed
the night watchman had
ne evening, five years be-
tad carried a grudge and

1g even.

’ on bennies,” he told the
see Stovall Sitting with
r, like he was asleep. He
ow who had kicked my

2 it.”

3, he had gone in and
mn the desk in order to
weve that a burglar had

he said.

kK at the body,” young
Then, when I read the
I found out that I had
n. I was sorry about

likely to be sorrier still,
to sign a written con-
ce of his parents and
mediately charged with

he is heing held in the.
wi bond, to face
arly tbruary, 1952.

revent possible embar-
‘rsons, the names Frank
er, Harlan Justus and
story, are fictitious.

x Riv x
ey’re tough

1951,

©

.

She Sleeps a Widow
Tonight :

Continued from page 37

Wood talked to Johnson. The 25-year-old
had shoulders~like a two-year-old bull and
he was scooping cattle feed into troughs on
his uncle’s farm. Feed dust caked his face
and clothes. -

“J hear you had trouble with Art An-
heier,”” Wood said.

“You said it,’ Johnson said and kept
spreading the feed down a trough with his
scoop shovel. A steer rooted up close to the
big boy and he* banged the shovel against
the animal’s head. The ‘steer shook its head
and stumbled away. :

Johnson laughed. “Yeah, I asked old An-
heier who owned the big car parked in front
of his house all the time he was gone to the
mines and he got sore. His car and that big
black one were staying there in relays.”

The implicatibn was too strong for Wood
to ignore. He returned to the Anheier home
and confronted Mrs. Anheier with the rumor
of-the black car.

“Your husband had some trouble with
Bill Johnson,” he began.

Her face showed some surprise.

“Johnson says it was because a big car
parked here when Art was away at the
mines,” Woods continued.

Her long-lashed eyes turned into gray storm

clouds. She said there’d been a salesman

there on several occasions.
black sedan.

Sergeant Wood told her she could help
most by coming to the district attorney’s
office and telling them all she could remember
about her life with Arthur.

At headquarters, District Attorney Wallace’
J. Stakel and Sergeant Wood talked to her.
No, the Anheiers didn’t own a shotgun. The
two of them had been reasonably happy.

It was true that she’d separated from her
husband for several months. He wanted to
live in the country and she wanted to live
in town. But she cquidn’t stand being away
from the kids and she learned to like the
country.

She’d gone back to Art and five months
earlier they?d moved to the farm home on
Lockport Road three miles northeast of Elba.
She wrung her tiny hands and told them
how lost she was without Art. She didn’t
know what to do. So far as Bill Johnson was
concerned, Art had never mentioned having
trouble with him.

For a moment the officers thought perhaps
Anheier’s death had been an accident, the
result of a tragic mistake by a trigger happy
deer hunter. The dead miner had been a
solid citizen, -a church member. He hadn’t

He drove a long

owed money. He hadn’t gambled. But they’

still felt that the one who fired the shell
that blew Anheier’s heart to bits had been
hunting bigger game -than deer.

They went over Irene’s past again, hoping
to find some clue. ;

“This salesman who came to your house, -

what did. he sell?” the DA asked her.
“Vacuum cleaners,” she told then.
“He came more than once?” .
She shrugged. Salesmen were all alike. They
kept pestering -you.
But she hadn’t bought a vacuum cleaner.
It was getting late in the afternoon now.

handkerchief and he didn’t find out the name

- words short.

- in one room, and Lewis in the other.
Lewis said he knew nothing about the |

*

The sun was almost down and it was after 5.
“You said you had done some work as a
saleslady when you were separated from your
husband,” Wood said. “What did you sell?”
“Vacuum cleaners,” she told them.
Stakel arched his bushy brows. But Irene
was crying and her face was covered with a

of the salesman who’d visited when her hus-
band was at the mines.

At 6:30 a long distance phone call rang out
at the Anheier place. A state trooper answered
and a smooth over-polite voice asked for
Irene. The police traced the call to the 1400
block on Main Street East, Rochester.

Stakel took Irene a cup of -coffee and sat
on the edge of a desk watching her sip.

“There were three people in this case,”
he said slowly. “Art was one and he is dead.
The other man just telephoned for you—
from 1400 block on Main Street East in
Rochester.”

She put her coffee down and her underlip
was trembling. That’s when she told them.
Her eyes were big liquid pools of tears as
she told his name. Stephan DeFoe Lewis.
She’d worked selling vacuum cleaners for
him. After she quit, he started bothering her,
coming to the house, but there was nothing
between them. She’d never been unfaithful.

“Tf he had anything to do with this he
wouldn’t have phoned a nest full of police.” -
Stakel was inclined to agree.

Corporal E. F. Anderson and Trooper C. T.
Schareit of the State Police Went to Rochester
end joined City Detectives Coarge DeVos and
Milton Wahl in a search for the vacuum
cleaner salesman, They found his name in the
entrance hall of an apartment at 1421 Main
Street East. a

A landlady whose face was round and red
as a beet led them to the salesman’s room.

“He’s wanted for questioning about a mur-
der,” they told a Jandlady there.

She. gasped and clucked her tongue.

"Stevie's A Nice Boy"

“And .Stevie’s been such a nice boy, too,”
she said. ee

They knocked on the door. A frail little
man about five feet tall answered. His eyes
glittered like black beads. His mustache was
a pencil line above his pink lips.

“How do you do,” he said, clipping the

The four cops pushed through the door-
way.. The little man gestured with a limp
wrist toward a pile of papers on the desk.

“I’m comparing the relative merits of two
brands of vacuum cleaners,” he said.

The police. searched his apartment. They
found a 12-gauge shotgun in the closet and
scooped up the papers on his desk. Magazines
featuring romance stories were strewn about
the room. - ‘

“Yes, I know Irene Anheier,”
“She’s one of my clients.”.

He bristled like a Boston bulldog when they
told him to- get ready to go to headquarters.
But he adjusted his handpainted tie calmly

he said.

and put on a zipper sweater and a topcoat. .

They ushered him‘to the patrol car and took
him to Troop A State Police barracks. .
At headquarters later, ‘they questioned Irene

slaying. He was 42 years old, the same age

as Irene’s dead husband. In addition to his |

vacuum cleaner business, he sold shoes and

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