New York, G-H, 1876-1989, Undated

ace
ower E

well-to-

untim

in

ast
do
ely

thought
-uthlessly

zrueso

me

second

no

“Best thing I’ve heard you say for days,” retorted Mrs.
Daniels, laughingly. “I think I need one, too.”

“Me, three,” chimed in Mrs. Fried.

Being unanimously agreed, they went to a near-by restau-
rant, one of the most popular on Main Street, where they
had several drinks and sandwiches. At 8:45 p. o., they Icft
for the show.

Two hours later the foursome, having enjoyed the delight-
ful movie operetta, walked around to where Daniels had
parked his car, and drove to the imposing mansion of Mrs.

This closet (below) hid
the entrance to a secret
room in the cellar be-
neath Manhattan's
Ukrainian Hall, charnel
house of the kidnapers.
At right (top to bot-
tom) Norman Miller,
Arthur Fried, William
Jacknis, and Benjamin
Farber. All except Jack-
nis are kidnap victims,
Jacknis was the snatch-
er's “finger man.’

“r

—> .

tion of the

rder by J.
us G-Men,
+ the idea
m one bet-

shown in

Manhattan's

ging in the
as not cre-
ed by the

living room, they threw off their wraps and started to dance
to the music of Rudy Vallee’s celebrated “Connecticut
Yankee” Orchestra.

An hour passed. And still they heard no word from Fried.
Yet, they were unworried. Fried often stopped off at a
local tavern to have a little chat with the boys.

But when a second hour had gone by, and Fried had not
telephoned his wife began to worry.

“Something must have happened to him,” Mrs. Fried said.
“Tt isn’t like Arthur to stay out so late without calling me,
at least.”

Daniels and her sister tried to console her. But Mrs. Fried
insisted that she had a “premonition” that all was not well
with her husband. And, eventually, Daniels called White
Plains Police Headquarters and reported Fried’s disappear-
ance to Chief of Detectives Edward Hughes.

On December fifth, less than twenty-four hours after
Fried’s strange disappearance, Hugo Fried, a black-sheep
brother of the missing man (he had served a term in Sing
Sing Prison in connection with the theft of an automobile),
received a telephone call from an unidentified man who told
him to go to a bar and grill in lower Manhattan and pick up
a message which was hidden on the top of the towel rack
in the washroom.

H° Friep did so, but could find no note. As he was
about to leave the place, however, there came a tele-
phone call for him, This voice, which he could not identify,
told him that instead of being on the towel rack, the note
was on a high shelf in another section of the washroom.

Furthermore, the voice told him, in substance:

“If you want to see your brother alive again, pay strict
heed to this note. After you read it, memorize its conditions,
then go directly out into the middle of the street and burn it
up. We'll be watching you—so don’t double cross us. If
you do your brother will be killed!”

“What is this?” asked Hugo, excitedly. “Are you holding
my brother for ransom ?”

“Never mind that,” admonished the voice. “You just do
what the note says and everything will be all right!”

And, with that, the telephone was disconnected.

Hugo went back into the washroom and found the note.

In the dim light, he studied it carefully. It said that
Arthur Fried was being held by kidnapers; that unless $200,-
060 was paid in cash, and delivered according to instructions
to be given later by telephone, the victim would be killed.

Eaiat
ineitidit

iBiy tate

Furthermore, in heavy, printed letters, was the confirma-
tion of the earlier telephonic conversation.

“GO STRAIGHT OUT INTO THE STREET AND
BURN THIS! WE'LL BE WATCHING YOU. And if
you double cross us, and fail to keep our confidence, you'll
never see Arthur again!”

Hugo was greatly shaken and, at first thought, was going
to carry out the orders in the note. Then, it occurred to him
that he might be able to preserve the note by a ruse.

TEPPING OUT ACROSS the sidewalk and directly in the mid-

dle of the street, Hugo pulled a sheet of paper resembling
that of the snatch note, from his pocket, lighted it, and
slowly twisted it to catch the breeze, so that it was burned to
ashes and finally crumpled in his hand.

Then, flicking his fingers in a gesture of—“well—I've car-
ried out your wishes. What now?" he slowly walked up the
street to the nearest subway station. However, no one ap-
proached him, nor could he sce any suspicious-appearing
persons loitering in the street.

Meanwhile, in White Plains, detectives under Chief
Hughes, were carrying on an intensive investigation.

When Arthur Fried was last seen by members of his fam-
ily, he wore a tan corduroy shirt, a tan suit, a gray felt hat,
a black overcoat and brown suede shoes. A description of
these, together with that of himself and his automobile, was
broadcast over New York's famous eight-State teletype.

A few hours later, his car was found parked in a vacant
lot in the rear of Rosedale Gardens, a roadhouse on Mamar-
oneck Road, about a mile-and-a-half from his mother’s home,
There was nothing within it to give the slightest indication
of what fate its owner had met.

By this time gossip had it that there was something de-
cidedly “funny” about Fried’s disappearance; some said that
he had been having marital trouble; others that he had be-
come involved in a losing business proposition and had
dropped out of sight until his financial troubles blew over.

And, three days after Fried so mysteriously disappeared,
came an incident which probably signed his death warrant.

OLICE CHIEF WILLIAM MILter, of White Plains, irked

by the presence of newspaper reporters and photogra-
phers who, like most of the authorities believed that Fried
had dropped out of sight for reasons of his own, issued this
statement :

“Three Federal men who came up here from New York
City have returned because I
told them this was not a kid-
naping, but just another miss-
ing persons case, of which we
have seven or cight every
year.”

Hardly had Chief Miller
released this, when another
Westchester County official
told reporters that Hugo
Fried had contacted the kid-
napers; that he had followed
instructions and found the
ransom note, but had burned
only the envelope. The actual
note was in the hands of the
authorities, he declared.

Naturally, coming from

According to confessions of four
men allegedly involved in the
snatch of Arthur Fried, a furnished
room in this house was used as a
hideaway. Owners of the house
declare it would have been im-
possible for this to happen, but
G-Men are satisfied that it did.

55


a

OO nS

such a high official, the reporters lost little time in flashing
this sensational revelation to their respective offices. And
as it later developed, the printing of this news caused the
kidnapers to grow so angry that they shot the victim down
in cold blood and cremated him! However, detectives and
G-Men were not to learn this for almost a year.

In the meantime, the kidnapers kept in almost constant
communications with Hugo Fried. Starting out with a
demand for $200,000, they gradually lowered the sum until
it reached $50,000, at which figure Fried agreed to “pay off.”

Earlier, he had informed them that there was no possi-
bility of raising the original amount demanded in the ransom
note.

So the “bargaining” for a man’s life was settled.

56

Here (left) are shown two official in-
vestigators unwrapping a machineaun
which was found hidden away in the
cellar of Ukrainian Hall, the alleged
"Crematory of four as bloody-
handed killers as ever were captured.
Below appears the iron cot on which
Fried was supposed to have been kept
for four days while his snatchers
negotiated.

pyre THE ENSUING DAYS,
Hugo Fried was contacted
on the telephone, either at his
office, or his home, more than
thirty times. All these conver-
Sations were listened to by the
persistent G-Men, but they took
no open action, their policy al-
ways having been to make the
safety of the snatch victim para-
mount.

Eventually, the negotiations
reached the stage where Hugo
Fried agreed to pay the $50,000,
providing proof was furnished
that his brother was still alive.
An emissary was arranged, the
$50,000 in ransom bills were ob-
tained from the bank, and were
wrapped up in a package as di-
rected by the kidnapers.

Then the “contact” man sat
back to await actual delivery in-
structions.

Soon came a telephone call. A
muffled voice instructed the en-
voy to drive to midtown New
York City, park his automobile,
and to proceed on foot to Loew's
Commodore Theatre, at Second
Avenue and Sixth Street, with
the money. He was told to go
to the balcony and open a metal
door, step out onto the fire es-
cape and drop the parcel con-
taining the money into the street.

“Five hours after this is
done,” the voice said. ‘You
will hear from us again. Then
we'll tell you where to go to pick
up Arthur Fried.”

Naturally, the ever-listening
G-Men were aware of these ar-
rangements. They threw a cor-
don of trained investigators
around Loew's Commodore The-
atre, but all were under instructions to make no effort to
incerfere in the actual delivery of the ransom. However, if
they saw someone seize the package, they were to try and
follow him, unless it became too obvious the messenger was
aware he was being trailed.

The G-Men had already obtained a complete list of the
numbers on the ransom bills and trusted to trace the kid-
napers through this course, as they have done so consistently
in most of this country’s major kidnapingss, including that
of Baby Charles A. Lindbergh, for which the German car-
penter, Bruno Hauptmann was electrocuted in New Jersey
State Prison.

The Fried family, however, balked. First, they did so
because they had received no authentic proof that Arthur

ceeds ean eS


_

java FRIED was”
CREMATED /n FURNACE
'Of UKRANIAN HALL
100 FT. from THEATRE.

(SIDE ENTRAN
OF THEATRE

A diagram of Sixth Street, Manhattan, \ rey Following the solution of the
which was the scene of the kidnap hide- . ‘ aa a‘ Fried kidnaping murder by J.
out and the ‘'Crematory'' of Arthur Edgar Hoover's famous G-Men, | H'
Fried, hapless White Plains, New York, New York police got the idea
contractor, whose family tried to ran- they could ''go them one bet
som him from the heartless snatchers, ter.’ Here they are, shown in a
but failed. Here, too, is the theatre, the cellar of Manhattan's ole
where the ransom money was to be Ukrainian Hall, digging in the Was
delivered. belief that Fried was not cre- Pit
mated, as confessed by the
kidnapers.

Emma Fried, at 101 Sound View
Avenue, near the home of the late
United States Supreme Court Jus-
tice Benjamin N. Cardozo.

They chatted with the elderly
wid mother — for a
time and then Daniels. his wife
and her sister got into the Daniels
car and started for home. Fried,
who had visited his mother earlier
in the day, had parked his own
coupe there. He said he would
follow them.

It was a beautiful, starlit night,
a night for rural lovers; a night
when no inkling of tragedy could
be suspected by any of the friendly
two couples. All were well-fed,
happy at having seen the movie,
and all, they thought, were at
peace with the world.

what
At
Hus
I;
Arthur
QUO)

to |e

Tes MINUTES LATER, Daniels
drove up in front of the
Arthur Fried home in the preten-
tious Briarview Manor Apartment
House on Old Mamaroneck Road.
They waited several minutes for
Fried’s coupe to appear, but when
he failed to show up, Daniels and
the two women went inside.

“Guess Arthur must have stopped
off for some gas,” remarked Daniels.

“He'll be here any minute.”

“More likely, he stopped off for another drink,”
his wife jibed, gaily. “That man’s getting to be a
regular fish.”

All three laughed, and as soon as they entered the Fried

34


the Third Avenue
3 on the corner of
.xth Street, and he
1e one thing that
nall, or the meeting
| up Sixth.

block he stopped,
surge of satisfac-
» place what he felt
ce of the vast, be-
le. Just beyond the
nodore Theatre he
social club called
he stood there, a
‘ed to turn into the

uy get a game of
ked the man.
ure, mister. But it’s

‘o in without excit-
he should run into
» the detective got
ioned Vetterli, tell-
ry. Vetterli said he
man down to look
then he guessed the
crowded.
ked down the five
, whose main floor
level of the side-
cking of pool balls,
There were 12 steps,
ed, to the bottom.
ere the four pool
a meeting hall with
there were stacks
against the walls.
‘ported to Vetterli.
is information to
that ten men keep
nt surveillance, but
ade yet.
owever, another of
a Packard coupe
gent found that its
7 owned a Buick
7N-900. The owner
iamed Dennis Gula,
; Place, in Brooklyn.
Gula immediately,
the agent followed
the Ukranian Hall!
3I learned, was the
an Hall. He did not
either of the men
xd as his kidnapers.
ila rented or loaned
vers of the Hall.
a chance to check
lowing Gula found
n used by his son,
day drove off to a
t tailed him there,
nnd and when the
ed the pair to what
friend’s home on
iyn. A swift check
be Johnny Kompa,
zarried the alias of

anny by his friend
man of 30, about
{1 mustache and a
ompa was swarthy,
taller, they fitted
. Strang had given

tterli still bided his
s of his agents, he
men were up to
repeatedly going to
al lawyer on some

d out what that
> men were trying
spring a friend of
tor named Sacoda,
nto Sing Sing, from
»ight-day period in
ere under constant
ioparent that they

had no visible means of support. It all
added up to the surmise that they were
living off the proceeds of the Strang kid-
naping.

But the FBI doesn’t work on surmises.
They want proof. Strang was brought in
and, watching from the car of an agent
tailing the men, he identified them as his
kidnapers.

J. Edgar Hoover was informed of this,
but his orders were no arrests yet. Vet-
terli saw the sense to it; for if the men
were arrested for the Strang kidnaping,
the Fried case would undoubtedly go un-
solved.

At this point a third suspect entered the
picture, a man _ named Arthur: Kruta.
Strang had said there were three kidnap-
ers, but he had not seen the third. Kruta
was a small-time punk with a police
record; and on that record was a-repu-
tation for willingness to talk. During the
next week the trio was constantly together.
Kruta joined the others in their visits to
the criminal lawyer.

At last Hoover decided to move. He
told Vetterli that the chances were if the
men were handled separately, with par-
ticular attention given to Kruta, some-
one would be willing to talk.

On October 25th, 1938, Vetterli picked up
the men and brought them to the Federal
Building, where they were questioned sep-
arately. Kruta and Kompa both broke,
admitting their participation in the Strang
case. Kruta denied any part in the Fried
case, but indicated that he had heard
about it. When faced with these confes-
sions on the part of his henchmen, Gula
finally confessed, but said that Steve
Sacoda, who was now behind bars in
Sing Sing, had master-minded the Fried
kidnaping.

“Around midnight of December 3rd,”
Gula told Vetterli, “Steve Sacoda and I
snatched a guy I had never seen out of a
car in White Plains. Steve said he had
plenty of dough. I drove the car and we
followed his Packard, finally forcing him
to the curb. We put guns on him and got
him into our car, and I drove his car off
and abandoned it in front of a tavern.
Then we drove to an apartment on East
19th Street in New York that Sacoda kept
for his women.

“We held Fried for a couple of days
and demanded 200 grand ransom. That
was no dice, so we settled for $25,000.
Then we saw the story in the paper say-
ing the FBI was in on the case—and that
was all for us. Steve decided to kill Fried.
He knew too much about us by then.

“So Steve turned the radio up good and
loud. He told Fried we were going to a
new hideout and blindfolded him. Then

he let Fried have it in the back of the
head with his .38.”

Vetterli raised no questions; Gula was
covering eve ing. ‘

“Then I went around to the Ukranian
Hall—Sacoda had a smart idea. There was
no one around. I called up my old man—
he’s the manager—to make sure he was
home and wouldn’t surprise us. He was.
We took Fried in our car to the hall.
Sacoda knew the place well, particularly
the part we were interested in now, be-
cause he used to be the janitor and he
still had a set of keys for everything. We
took Fried down to the furnace room
and Sacoda got the furnace roaring. Then
we shoved Fried into the furnace head
first—all the way in—and closed the door.
We hung around three or four hours. It
was very uncomfortable with Steve keep-
ing the drafts open. Then we shook down
the fire, Steve put a lot more coal on
and we left.”

Sacoda was brought down from Sing
Sing, sprung.in a way he had never antici-
mag But Sacoda was smart enough to

now that by now there was no evidence
against him. There wasn’t anything left
of the corpus delicti, the ultimate proof
that someone had been killed. There was
just Danny Gula’s confession.

Sacoda denied everything. He hadn’t
harmed Strang, he insisted, as he willingly
admitted to his part in that plot. “But
you’ve got nothing on me as far as the
Fried case is concerned.”

Vetterli shrugged his shoulders. “It
doesn’t matter, Sacoda. I think the New
York cops will see that you burn for the
Strang job. You know the new law—the
death penalty for kidnapers.”

It was then, as he saw himself hope-
lessly trapped, that Sacoda confessed to
the killing of Arthur Fried. He tried to
shift the blame for the actual shooting
of Fried onto Gula, but, as Vetterli had
said, all that didn’t make any difference.

On January 27th, 1939, Sacoda and
Gula went to trial. As they faced a first-
degree murder rap they were painfully
aware of one thing; that although the
FBI might take a long time, being pains-
takingly thorough, they didn’t miss. And
neither did the executioner when he
knifed the switch to the electric chair on
January 12th, 1940.

Kompa and Kruta were sentenced to
terms of from 20 years to life.

Eprror’s Note:

The names Ward Brenner, Forrest
Strang, Arthur Kruta and Johnny

Kompa are fictitious.

cond

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Hear the details about this $1,000.00 reward
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89

area around Old Stock-
er police cars were near-
alert for the howling,

and came low and indis-
nce from the chief’s car.
ig cry of a human or an
Then it rose quickly into
shriek that chilled the
icers.

» step on the gas when
back. “Listen!” the chief

od up and he whined in
his neck hairs bristling,
cries rose to hysterical
: howls stopped abruptly.
2d Sullivan, motioning
came from over there.”
rward and careened into
toad, its headlamps cut-
foggy darkness. Other
ypeared as police cars
spot.
tood at the roadside, and
; crawling on her hands
> the car, a second girl
it seat. She was sobbing
dress and underclothing
front, and her neck and
with bleeding wounds.
ne before the girls had
gh to tell what had hap-
nut of their teens, they
es as two stenographers
ly that evening they had
Hansen Roadhouse for
had recommended it to
lace to dine, but they

t they had started home
d by one girl’s parents.
1ey were riding through
1en a man suddenly ap-
ack seat, held a gun on
‘eel and ordered her to
d. They couldn’t see his
now they were on Old
vhen the man told them

he struck the girl driv-
h the gun butt and she
inconscious. Then he
the car. The other girl,
was still inside. The
ack her, and as he did
ng howls came from
the darkness.

shts appeared and the
1e car, plunged through
raced into the woods.
ished their story, five
our cars at the scene
iderbrush on the trail

to Hale. “Take charge
1e sedan,” he ordered.
man about a dog.”

\d comment, the chief
Wheaton. He went to
talked to some of the
d visited the nearby

‘ked up Sheriff Hatten-
n a few minutes, they
’s car racing toward

ight of dawn appeared
. and Hattendorf stood
e beside a white frame
ial section of the city.
ly there for almost an

tirred in the mist be-
livan darted from un-
‘an for the man. He
vard an alley, but not
iief dived for his legs
‘ent down in a strug-

on top, pinning down

his prisoner. The man groaned and lay
still. Then the chief got up and yanked
him to his feet.

“John Preston!” exclaimed Hattendorf.

“The killer who howled like a dog,”
snapped Sullivan. ;

An hour later, Preston sat slumped in a
chair at the county courthouse in Wheaton.
Facing him were State’s Attorney Russell
Keaney, Hattendorf and Sullivan.

The suspect’s face was ashen, his lower
lip quivered and his tongue licked it
nervously. His cheeks were scratched and
his hands were covered with dried blood.

“T had you tagged the moment we talked
to you about Agnes Johnson,” Sullivan
said sternly. “But I couldn’t figure out
about that howling. That is, until I heard
it myself. Then I knew it wasn’t an
animal, but a man.

“You were a logical suspect. And Ruth
Clark was sure she saw no car in
the road, as you claimed. Then I began
to check your story. It stood up pretty
well. But Steve Packer at the roadhouse
made one remark that got me thinking.
He said he loaned you ten dollars earlier
that night when you came for dinner with
the girls. Yet you claimed forty dollars
had been stolen from you by the holdup
man. You told Hale it was only thirty.
It just didn’t figure.”

The chief continued, “When I heard
those cries tonight, I knew you were the
man. I had a hunch you wouldn’t go
straight home. So I went to Wheaton and
talked with the conductor of the two
o’clock train from West Chicago. He told
me of seeing a man with a bloodstained
face sneak off the train at Wheaton. I
found a restaurant man who said a fel-
low with scratches on his face came in
for coffee about two-thirty. The man he
described was you. So the sheriff and I
went to your home to wait.”

“Tl talk,” Preston whimpered. “I'll tell
you everything. But if I do, can I make
a deal?”

“We can promise you nothing,” snapped
Keaney.

Preston sat tight-lipped until his wife
was brought to Wheaton, where she begged
him to confess. Then he told a shocking
and incredibly brutal story.

“T killed Agnes Johnson,” he admitted,

“but I can’t tell you why. When I take a
few drinks, something happens to me.
Night after night I went out to West
Chicago and drank at the roadhouse
there. Always I had an overpowering
desire to bite a woman and taste her
blood. Then I would scream like an
animal. I’m helpless to control myself.”

Preston confessed the vampire-like at-
tacks on June Bailey and the other two
girls. The officers suspected there might
have been more, who out of shame and
fear had kept silent.

His strange confession made sensational
newspaper copy, and his case became a
prime topic for discussion by psychiatrists
throughout the nation. He was compared
to the fictional Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde, a
split personality whom liquor changed
into a ravaging, bloodthirsty monster.

At his. trial which began on December
2nd, his defense was insanity. Prominent
alienists testified that he was psychotic
and suffered from schizophrenia. The jury
believed them and brought in a verdict
finding him insane. He was ordered com-
mitted to a state mental hospital.

State’s Attorney Keaney, however, was
convinced that John Preston was conscious
of the nature of his acts, even at the time
of the murder, and knew the difference
between right and wrong. Keaney used the
right in Illinois to appeal the verdict, and
in one of the few such rulings on record,
the Illinois Supreme Court reversed the
decision and Preston was remanded for a
new trial.

This time the second jury refused to
be swayed by the plea of insanity. Pres-
ton was found guilty of first-degree mur-
der with no recommendation of mercy,
and was sentenced to die.

On October 31st, 1931, after a long and
bitter battle to escape execution, the howl-
ing killer was strapped into the electric
chair at Joliet Prison. Three minutes
later he was pronounced dead, a swifter,
more merciful fate than he had meted
out to Agnes Johnson.

Eprror’s Note:
The names June Bailey, Ruth Clark
and Steve Packer are fictitious.

MANHATTAN MANHUNT

(Continued from page 10)

Fearful of reprisals, the Strangs had dealt
secretly with the kidnapers and had not
gone to the police.

Vetterli got some of the details of the
snatch and found that it had striking
similarities to the Fried case. He decided
to call on the Strangs.

Young Strang was willing to talk. He
said that on Saturday night, July 23rd,
he left the Kingsway Theatre on Coney
Island Avenue, got in ‘his car and drove
off. He stopped for a red light. Suddenly
two men leaped on the running board
of his 1937 convertible, one pressing a
gun to his head. Another man ran up and
they all got in.

“As the light turned green they told
me to drive straight ahead,” Strang said.
“In the mirror I saw a gray car following
us. At 22nd St. and Avenue O they told
me to stop, so I pulled up to the curb.
Somebody in the back seat slapped ad-
hesive tape over my eyes and then
glasses. I was hauled out of my car, put
in another car and we drove off slowly.
At last we stopped. They led me out into
the basement of a building. I had to walk
down five steps from the sidewalk, then

RTT TTT TS AEE ELIE LOTT

down a flight of stairs. Twelve steps.

“I was walked across the floor. I could
hear pool balls clicking in the room. Then
across a wooden floor. A corner of my
blindfold got loose and I could see stacks
of chairs—like in a high-school gym or
meeting hall—and then they got me in
a small room. I got a look at the kid-
napers then.”

One of them, the apparent leader, was
about 5 feet 8, with a long nose, pale face
and small mustache. He dressed in gray,
very sharp. He was about 30 years old.
A second man was perhaps five years
younger, heavy-set and about 5 feet 10
with a sw y complexion.

Vetterli questioned Strang for hours,
going over and over the details. Under
the FBI agent’s skillful quizzing, o—
remembered details he thought he ha
forgotten. He said that they drove from
Avenue O at about 25 miles per hour, and
that the radio was on when they started.
Vetterli was trying to establish an accu-
rate time, so he asked Strang if he re-
membered what station was on and what
songs were being played. He remembered
that someone turned the radio off while

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“A tisket, a tasket” was being played,
and that they drove almost half an hour,
after that, over what felt to be main
thoroughfares. When the car stopped at
last he heard the rumble of the Elevated
train not far away. One of the kidnapers
remarked that it was 1:00 am. The
following morning, which was Sunday,
time hung heavy for Strang and he re-
membered counting the strokes of a near-
by church bell. It rang 36 times.

That day one of the kidnapers men-
tioned going down the street “to take in
a movie.”

Vetterli jotted down these exhaustive
details, then asked Strang what kind of
a car he had driven in. He couldn’t be
sure of haga except that it had a
“new” smell,

Strang was then taken on a tour of
auto agencies and seated in the front seat,
where he had ridden in the kidnap car,
of a dozen cars of different makes. After
sitting in a Packard, Strang was certain,
from the springing and incline of the
seat as well as the feel of the velour, that
it was identical to the one the kidnapers
had used. It was a 1938 coupe.

Strang also told Vetterli that on the
day of the kidnaping his father had won
$5000 at'a race track. The FBI man was
convinced the two facts tied up, so he
issued orders to his agents to check all
tracks in the New York vicinity for ’38
Packard coupes. He wanted to know, since
he was convinced the Strang and Fried
cases were related, if any of the owners
had possessed Buicks or Oldsmobiles the
previous year with license plates begin-
ning with 7N. Things were narrowing
down.

Then Vetterli set to work on another
tangent of investigation based on Strang’s
experience. He got in touch with all
New York radio stations to find out at
what exact moment, after midnight of
July 23rd, the song “A tisket, a tasket”
had been played. One popular station
reported the song had been played at
12:35 am. That was when Strang left
Avenue O. A _kidnaper had remarked
when they finally stopped that it was 1
o’clock. That meant he had traveled
for 25 minutes at what Strang estimated
was 25 miles per hour.

Agents in cars were sent to Avenue O
and 22nd Street; from which point they
drove, covering all directions, 25 miles an
hour for 25 minutes. Then they stopped,
reporting position to Vetterli. On a huge
map of New York in his office, Vetterli
made a note of all points reported, then
took a protractor and with Avenue O
as the center, drew an inclusive circle
with a radius to the farthest point.

After that agents were sent out to find
points within that circle where there was
a coincidence of a pool hall or meeting
hall, a church, an Elevated structure, a
movie house. There was found to be 31
locations in Brooklyn and lower Man-
hattan within Vetterli’s encompassing
circle, where churches, movies, pool rooms
and meeting halls were fairly adjacent,
and within earshot of an El.

Given more men by J. Edgar Hoover,
Vetterli assigned a man to each of the
areas, of which there were 19 in Brooklyn
and 12 in lower. Manhattan.

It was dull, plodding work, but the
FBI had plenty of time. It was a job that
had to be done, to be carried through to
remove the most poisonous of crim-
inal menace: the kidnaper, who was the
potential, premeditating killer.

Three months later an agent assigned
to lower Manhattan worked through the
night. In the early morning he heard a
church bell begin its toll—and he counted
the strokes until he reached 36. He looked
up the street and saw Loew’s Commo-
dore Theatre, and a few minutes later

he heard the roar of the Third Avenue
Elevated train. He was on the corner of
Second Avenue and Sixth Street, and he
looked around for the one thing that
was missing. The pool hall, or the meeting
hall. Slowly he walked up Sixth.

In the middle of the block he stopped,
feeling a tremendous surge of satisfac-
tion as he saw fall into place what he felt
sure was the final piece of the vast, be-
wildering jig-saw puzzle. Just beyond the
side exit of the Commodore Theatre he
saw the entrance to a social club called
the Ukranian Hall. As he stood there, a
man went by and started to turn into the
walk to the entrance.

“Say Mac—can a guy get a game of
pool in there?” he asked the man.

The man nodded. “Sure, mister. But it’s
just for members.”

It was too early to go in without excit-
ing suspicion in case he should run into
the pies 2 parties. So the detective got
to a pay booth and phoned Vetterli, tell-
ing him of his discovery. Vetterli said he
would send another man down to look
around after church, when he guessed the
place would be more crowded.

The next agent walked down the five
steps into the building, whose main floor
was slightly below the level of the side-
walk. He heard the clicking of pool balls,
and found a staircase. There were 12 steps,
as Strang had reported, to the bottom.
Beyond the area where the four pool
tables were set up was a meeting hall with
a wooden floor, and there were stacks
of folding chairs piled against the walls.
The agent left and reported to Vetterli.

Vetterli relayed this information to
Hoover, who ordered that ten men keep
the place under constant surveillance, but
no arrests were to be made yet.

A few days later, however, another of
Vetterli’s men located a Packard coupe
at a race track. The agent found that its
owner had previously owned a Buick
coupe with the license 7N-900. The owner
of the car was a man named Dennis Gula,
who lived on St. Marks Place, in Brooklyn.

A tail was put on Gula immediately,
and three days later the agent followed
the suspect straight to the Ukranian Hall!

Dennis Gula, the FBI learned, was the
manager of the Ukranian Hall. He did not
fit the description of either of the men
young Strang had noted as his kidnapers.
Vetterli wondered if Gula rented or loaned
his car to other members of the Hall.

But before he had a chance to check
on that, the agent following Gula found
that the car was often used by his son,
Demetrius, who next day drove off to a
race track. The agent tailed him there,
saw him meet a friend and when the
races were over followed the pair to what
was apparently the friend’s home on
Rutledge Road, Brooklyn. A swift check
showed this man to be Johnny Kompa,
a hoodlum who also carried the alias of
Johnny O’Brien.

Demetrius, called Danny by his friend
Kompa, was a dapper man of 30, about
5 feet 9, with a small mustache and a
fancy for gray suits. Kompa was swarthy,
heavier and slightly taller, they fitted
exactly the description Strang had given
of his kidnapers.

After this report, Vetterli still bided his
time. From the reports of his agents, he
sensed that the two men were up to
something. They were repeatedly going to
the offices of a criminal lawyer on some
business or other.

Vetterli soon found out what that
business was. The two men were trying
to get the lawyer to spring a friend of
theirs, a parole violator named Sacoda,
recently pushed back into Sing Sing, from
jail. All through the eight-day period in
which the two men were under constant
surveillance, it was apparent that they

had no visible mean
added up to the sur
living off the proceec

naping.

But the FBI doesn
They want proof. St
and, watching from -
tailing the men, he i
kidnapers.

J. Edgar Hoover v
but his orders were
terli saw the sense
were arrested for t}
the Fried case would
solved. ;

At this point a thir
picture, a man ne
Strang had said ther
ers, but he had not
was a small-time
record; and on that
tation for willingnes
next week the trio wi
Kruta joined the ot!
the criminal lawyer

At last Hoover d
told Vetterli that th«
men were han %
ticular attention gi\
one would be willin

On October 25th, 1!
the men and brough
Building, where they
arately. Kruta and
admitting their parti
case. Kruta denied
case, but indicated
about it. When fac

sions on the part o
finally confessed,
Sacoda, who was
Sing Sing, had ma:
kidnaping.

“Around midnigl
Gula told Vetterli,
snatched a guy I h:
car in White Plai
plenty of dough. I
followed his Packa
to the curb. We pu
him into our car, ‘
and abandoned it
Then we drove to
19th Street in New
for his women.

“We held Fried
and demanded 20
was no dice, so ~
Then we saw the :
ing the FBI was i
was all for us. Ste:
He knew too much

“So Steve turnec
loud. He told Fric
new hideout and

Be sure to
exciting hea:


ACODS trocuted Sing Sing
GLA Fico, whites phpctrocuted Sing ag

A FRONT PAGE STORY |
ABOUT NEW YORK

Terese, MARE RUMAH ACER HAA anede UNA HOE

BS) trond tie, Aoatbu

Bees :
 cdeoidsalbp Reeniahileminlaste yaaa ooh &

ame eames ————— ween tormese
ee _——

y WALTER W. CHALMERS
~~ Special Investigator For peo
FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE —

SUL IME

LOCKS TOLLED the hour of midnight and the dark,
Brooklyn side street was desertéd when Norman ~
Miller, twenty, and-his young friend, Sidney Lehrer,

turned the corner and started for the automobile which they

had parked half-way up the block. ~ Wi gt pee Teta ola
_ It was a warm and pleasant July night of 1938, and the
-youngsters laughed with the exuberance of youth as they.

discussed the movie they had just seen. Miller, in particular, |
Seemed to have ample reason to be light-hearted. He had
“recently returned to his home at 1506 East Twenty-ninth
Street, Brooklyn, after closing a successful semester at

Franklin and Marshall College in Lancaster, Pa., where he.

wasafreshman. _. a ae ge ra Sere

_A carefree summer vacation stretched invitingly before

him. His father, Charles Miller, a well-to-do businessman,’

kept him liberally supplied with pocket money. Ostensibly,
he had not a worry in the world. ee ee ee

And yet if the dark-haired, laughing student could have
glimpsed at that moment what life held in store for him
during the next twenty-four hours, he would have shud-
dered in easily understood horror. For Fate already had
marked him to play a weird role in a spine-chilling “snatch,”

—~a crime which would call for exercise of all the alertness

and intelligence at his co

a

4

\ fail in the grim task suddenly thrust
upon him, but instead used his wits like a veteran detect
was to bring about the i

p.i
rer was saying, “Now that
Claudette Colbert is nice. She——”_ = ae, See

“Here’s the car,” young Miller interrupted. “Get in. PU:
£0 around,” 0) 76 cope ea ert ee to s
Lehrer opened the door and slid into the front seat wh

Hay


iew Avenue,
lis OWN car,
e. (Above)
ap combine

eight-year-old son,
inpretentious man-
> were dozens of
his exclusive com-
thern outskirts of
would be more apt
ition of a kidnap
tchers could be cer-
) raise a large ran-

gave Hugo pause.
in his mind about
ween snatched. But
-v that the under-
‘m not for ransom,
ce Hugo himself in
It would explain
nee to the license
elephone conversa-
and Hugo drove
he victim’s license
lis brother’s BM12.
took Arthur, they
abbing Hugo.

| affection for his
ind was determined
considerations to
his were a bona-fide
tion on his part
murder of Arthur.
the four detectives
ze what had taken

to hold off until I
the mob,” he said
brother back alive.”
on he made to his
have his brother,
), the family chauf-
m. Hugo climbed
his coupé, backed
d sped south. Then
Avenue. When he
thoroughfare which
‘er, he reduced his
»s an hour, in keep-
rs instructions.’
drly deserted at this
When he turned
eet, he peered hard

DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

(Above) The kidnaper known as Pasty-Face. (Right)
The car with the BM26 license plate, which the victim
was driving just before he mysteriously disappeared.

rad Li 4

Later, when abandoned, it was found by police

in the mirror but could see no one fol-
lewing.

The detectives, who had taken a cir-
cuitous route, arrived ten minutes ahead
of him and unobtrusively had taken up
their station a block away from Kelly’s
Bar and Grill.

Hugo pulled to the curb a few doors
below the bar, climbed out, and walked
slowly toward it. There were several

parked cars, although Hugo could see '

no occupants in any of them. The ele-
vated structure looming overhead gave
a dreary cast to the street. Three men
stood at the lower end of the bar, con-
versing in low tones. As Hugo entered,
they looked up briefly and resumed
their talk. He saw that a few of the
tubles were occupied, but nothing occur-
red to arouse his suspicions as he stepped
up to the bar, A white-aproned bar-
tender glanced his way, a questioning
look on his face.

“TLL have a beer,” Hugo said. The bar-
tender set it up. “Has there been a
telephone call for Roberts?” he asked.

“Not as far as I know.”

At that moment the telephone rang.

“Maybe that’s your call now,” the
bertender commented.

Hugo hurried into the booth, closed
the door behind him.

“Hello,” he said.

“Roberts?”

“Yes.”

“You listen to me. The kid is all
nzht. When vou come out of the
tooth, turn to the right, then to the
nght again. Go into the men’s room.
There is a towel rack. On top of this
rowel rack is a letter. Take the letter,
walk back to the bar, open it and read
i. Then walk outside. Tear it up.
Burn it and bend down. Then go back
to the garage and wait. Have you got

“Yes,” Hugo said eagerly. The caller
hung up. Hugo recognized the precise,
chipped voice as that of the man to
whom he had spoken a half hour earlier.

DECEMBER, 1050

Obeying instructions, he turned right
as he left the booth and then right again.
In the washroom, he reached up for the
shelf and his fingers encountered an en-
velope.

At the bar he slit it open and unfolded
the two sheets of smooth, blue-lined
tablet paper. Written in soft lead, he
recognized his brother’s handwriting.

Dear Sisters and Brothers: I am
being held for a: ransom of $200,000
Dollars which is to be in no larger
denominations than 100.00 bills. I am
feeling fine and being taken care of
very well only hoping to get home
real soon.

Hoping you will do your utmost to
help me out of this embarrassing po-
sition, as you know I will do the same
for each & everyone of you.

Thanking you all from the bottom
of my heart with love to you all &
dearest mother & last but not least
love & kisses to my dear wife & boy
Sincerely yours, Arthur Fried.

On a second page he read:

P. S. I was told to write the following
my life depends on what you do in
regards to the letter for myself let me
say this please do as they instruct
you to do because from what little Ive
seen they are confident that they will
accomplice what they say. Don’t try
to pull any fast one’s. -

P. S. Depending on your answer to
them when they call you as arranged
they will probably have me with them.

In Hugo’s anxiety to finish the ran-
som note, he overlooked the obvious
mis-spelling of many of the words. The
instructions for destroying the letter
were explicit. The manner in which he
was to do it, left the strong inference
that he was being watched. Yet the
very fact that the snatchers went to
these lengths showed clearly that in
some manner, not readily discernible,
the note was a doeument which they
were afraid to have preserved. For this
reason, Hugo was determined to save it.

It might give the first real lead as to

their identities. Yet failure to follow
instructions might mean Arthur’s death.

He raised his eyes swiftly, saw the
entire restaurant reflected in the mirror
behind the bar. None of the patrons
seemed to show undue interest in his
actions. The kidnapers must be planted
some distance away. They wanted the
letter destroyed by fire, since, in the
darkness of the early morning hours,
the flame could be scen at a distance.

Pp ARING no chances, he watched the
patrons standing at the bar and at a
moment that he was certain none
watched, he slipped the letter into his
coat. Then with the envelope plainly
visible in his hand, he walked out into
the street.

He struck a match, but his trembling
fingers and a stiff North wind put it
out. Four times the match was extin-
guished. On the fifth, the envelope took
fire. He held it aloft until it almost
burned down to his fingers, then dropped
it in the gutter. With his foot he scat-
tered the charred fragments. He bent
dewn, remained in this position a few
seconds, then climbed into his car and
sped back to his garage. In the event
any member of the kidnap gang had
watched him, he felt sure that his ac-
tions in burning the envelope would have
given them sufficient proof of his good
faith.

The letter was turned over to one of
the White Plains detectives, and the lat- )
ter delivered it to Miller. This being
the first definite sign that Arthur Fried’s
disappearance was an abduction, the
Chief of Police dispatched a telegram €
to Reed Vetterli, then Agent-in-Charge
of the New York FBI field office.

Hugo was now certain that this was
a ransom snatch. He knew that in such
cases the finger-man is almost always a
friend of the victim’s family. Yet al-
though he racked his brains, he couldn’t
suspect any person he knew.

At 3:05 a. M., the telephone rang.

19


“Hello, Fried?” It was the kidnaper’s
voice again. :

“Yes, listen to me,” Hugo said tensely.
“You might know me. I am one of the
boys.”

“Keep quiet,” the voice sneered. “We
want dough and we want it fast.”

“We haven’t got that kind of dough,”
came the protest.

“The kid thinks different. You fel-:

lows get together now, all of you, and

ger as much dough as you can. Follow

out the orders in that letter. Get it to-
gether now and pile it up. You will
get a call in the afternoon, in the garage,
between two. and five.”

Hugo began pleading for some sign
that his brother was all right, but the
wire went dead.

A® soon as the local FBI office received
word of ‘the kidnaping, it was re-
layed to Director J. Edgar Hoover at
his office in the Department of Justice
Building, in Washington, D. C.

Actually, the FBI had no jurisdiction
in the case, since no proof existed show-
ing that the victim had been trans-
ported across a. state line. However,
Chief of Police Miller, in common with
the police heads of thousands of Ameri-
can cities and towns, recognized this
branch of the Federal Service as the
United States’ outstanding police body.
Jts brilliant solutions in kidnaping cases
have written one of the most shining
chapters in the history of twentieth cen-
tury crime detection.

What follows is the first authentic and
complete story of the amazing case,
which the FBI admits was one of the
toughest it ever faced. ;

Director Hoover, whose genius for or-
ganization played no small part in his
success, established a special kidnap
squad whose equipment is always packed
and ready for instant use.

Followmg the regular routine, the
members of this squad were on the scene

early on the morning of December 6th,
and with quiet efficiency had set up
their headquarters and begun their task.
From, the local officials, the Agent-in-
Charge received complete information
as to’ what had happened. ‘There were
no clues leading to the identities of the
perpetrators. The family history and
the vietiin’s character were two interest-
ing starting points for investigators.
The victim’s late father had been in
the sand and gravel business. He started
as 4 poor man, but soon amassed-a com-
fortable fortune ‘before selling dut to

' Generasso Pope, owner of the Colonial

Sand & Gravel Company. On his death,
his widow had inherited the entire es-
tate. Although she was still: in com-
fortable circumstances, and residing in
the fine mansion, the depression had
cut deeply into her holdings. Arthur
was a salaried employee of the Colonial
Cempany, receiving $200 weekly. He
spent as much as fourteen hours on the
job each day. So engrossed was he with
the business, that, with the exception
of his family, he had no outside interests.
His only amusement was an occasional
movie.

Studying the ransom note, the Agent-
in-Charge saw in the upper left hand
side of the page, a fragmentary water-
mark consisting of the letter “B” set in
a scroll. A check on this revealed that
this water-mark is registered for the

J.C. Blair Paper Company of Hunting-

don, Pennsylvania. This paper is used
in the manufacture of a tablet called
The Square Deal. Two Special Agents
of the FBI were dispatched to the fac-
tory to run this clue down to its final
source,

In canvassing the neighborhood in
which the kidnaping had taken place, a
Special Agent, working with Lieutenant
Hughes, located Warren Young, a clean-
cut intelligent high school student. Ques-
tioned by the Agent-in-Charge, Young
stated that on the night of the kidnaping

he had witnessed a strange incident.
“We had just turned left into Prescott
Road, when we noticed a Packard coupé,

- closely followed by a dark sedan, pass

by us. We remember it because the
sedan had only one light on in the front,
and no lights in the rear.”

“Whom do you mean by we?” the
Agent-in-Charge asked.

“There were five of us in the car,”
the youth replied. “There were Edward
Kearns, Branwood Wilding, Roberta
Fowler, and Alice Nelson.”

The Agent-in-Charge jotted down the
names.

“Suddenly I saw the sedan shoot for-
ward and cut off the coupé, forcing it
to the curb. I saw a man hop out of
the sedan and run over to the coupé.
Then we passed the corner und they
were out of sight. I made a ‘U’ turn
and came back. The cars were. still
there, but the only people TI could see
Was one man who stood on the corner.”

“Did you see what he looked like?”

“No, it was too dark. But I figured
i! there was. something wrong there, he
was the lookout. I went up another two
blocks and then made another “U” turn,
coming back again. By this time the
two cars were in motion again and they
passed me going the opposite way.”

Tf there was any doubt in the ques-
noner’s mind that the youth had— wit-
nessed the actual snatch, the answer to
his next question cleared it up.

“Did you see the license plates?” he
asked. ;

“The Packard had a low license num-
ber—BM and two numbers after it that
T couldn’t see clearly.”

“How about the sedan?” The Agent-
in-Charge held his breath. The kidnap
car had not been abandoned. This
showed clearly that it was still in the
possession of the mob. The license num-
ber would crack the cise wide open.

The youth shook his head sadly. “I
tried my best to get it,” he said, “but

(Below, left) In this house on East 19th Street, New York City, the victim was held captive for four
harrowing days. (Right) Investigators examine the massive furnace to which their suspicions had been directed

ACU ATT

Henly aie

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

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ther “U” turn,
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gain and they
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in the ques-
yuth had wit-
the answer to
it up.
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nse num-
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”” The Agent-
The kidnap
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he said, “but

four
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3 MYSTERIES

ali ] could see of the number was 7N.”

“What make was the sedan?”

“Ir was either a Dodge, Buick or
Qasmobile.”

“And what time did you see all of
the take place?”

“Tm pretty certain that it was 11:45.
I. not more than five minutes out of
the way because we have to have the
ris home by midnight, and we got
them home by twelve.”

When the quartette mentioned by
Warren Young were questioned, they up-
bud bis story in-all major points. The
eny variations were that one or two
cr them believed more than one person
yamped out of the sedan, while the
ethers sd they saw weapons in the
bards of the persons rushing toward
Fred's coupe.

The man with the precise clipped
veice, Who Was handling the negotiations
{vr the kidnapers, had promised to tele-

phone between two and five o’clock that’

afternoon. By two o'clock the G-men
were ready for him.

Recorder units were installed on the
telephones in the homes of all the
Fneds and on that in the Fried Garage.
The wire in the garage office was kept
clear und Hugo was seated beside it.
A: 3:10 p. M. it rang, and he scooped
up the receiver. A Special Agent, sta-
tioned in the garage in the guise of a
mechanic, was listening on an extension.

“Hello, Fried?”

“Yes.” Hugo said.

“MPV HIS is one of the boys.” The speak-
er had a deep, rough voice. It was
not the man Hugo had dealt with before.
“The ransom you ask for is out. of
the question,” Hugo said. “T put the
pressure on the family but the money
they can raise doesn’t come anywhere
pear vour figure.”
“Well, how much can you get?”
“We can’t do anv better than $2500.”
“How much?” the gruff voice asked

in surprise. “Tlow much did vou say?”

“About $2500,” Hugo repeated.

The kidnaper hesitated. “Could you
mutke it $5,000?”

“T don’t see how we can. We haven’t
got any money,” Hugo pleaded.

“Well, voull just have to do it,” the
gruff voice spoke harshly.

“Look. T’m one of the boys. If you
let my brother go, take my word for
it, Vl meet you at any time in any place,
und turn over the money.”

“That’s fine,” the voice sneered. “Tl
see what we can do about the matter.
Vit call you back at eight tonight.”

The aluminum dise on the recording
unit, attached to the wire, made a per-
manent. record of the conversation. The
call was traced aungl found to have origi-
nated from a eandy store on Manhat-
tums lower Teast. Side. No effort was
made to follow this wp, however, since
it was held that if the kidnapers knew
of the presence of ‘the G-men the vic-
tin’s life might. be endangered.

Five minutes after the appointed time,
that night, the same gruff-voiced kid-
naper telephoned again. “Have you got
that dough ready, Hugo?” he asked.

Hugo, who had been wrought up over
what had occurred at the previous con-
versation, had his reply all ready. There
were tears in his eyes as he pleaded with
the kidnaper.’ “Now, listen,” he begged.
“You’ve got us sized up wrong. We
haven’t got-any dough. We can’t raise
the money. We might have a big estate
in White Plains, but the whole thing
is mortgaged up. We've got no ready
cash. We might be able to raise a cou-
ple of hundred dollars, but we can’t
raise any real dough.” Then his voice
hardened, “Before we pay any money
T want. to see that the kid 1s okay. He’s
got to be turned out on the street.”

The kidnaper laughed. “Well, you'll
just have to get that dough together.
The kid is okay. Don’t worry. How
much do you think you ean raise?”

“We might be able to raise eighteen
hundred to two thousand, if I see the
rest of my brothers.”

“We might tuke twenty-five hundred,”
the kidnaper bargained shrewdly.

Hugo pretended he did not hear that
figure. “I might be able to raise eigh-
teen hundred to two thousand.”

“T’'ll have to see the gang,” the gruff
voice announced,

Hugo continued to explain that the
wealth of his family was misrepresented.
The caller cut in.

“Now, vou listen to me,” he said
harshly. “I will do the talking and tell
you what to do, see? I’ve got a plan
worked out for contact.”

“Before we pay the dough, we want
the kid turned out on the street,” Hugo
insisted. “Now you listen to me. I’ll have
to see him first. He’s a nice kid. He
ain’t used to rough stuff.”

“Tm not. dumb enough to stick on
this phone. Stav around and I'll call
you later.” The kidnaper hung up.

He had been on the wire five minutes.
The call was traced and found to have
come from a cigar store a half mile
from the location of the earlier call.

A few minutes later, the gruff-voiced
kidnaper, using another telephone, told
Hugo that what he had offered was
chicken feed and that if he ever wanted
to see his brother again, alive, he had
better kick in with a more substantial
amount.

The frequency of the kidnaper’s tele-
plione calls, was proof that they didn’t
suspect the presence of the FBI. Also
aside from a few paragraphs in the news-
papers stating that Arthur Fried had
been reported missing, the case had re-
ceived little notice.

The dickering over the amount of the
ransom was almost concluded, and a ten-
tative plan for the actual payment was
being worked out, when a newspaper
reporter, suspecting that there might be
a big story (Continued on page 101)

This rather forbidding exterior of Ukrainian Hall (below, left) was unseen by the victim when, his eyes taped,
he was led inside and down to the basement (right), expecting to meet his brother and be set free

me Tee, Tene

21


*
»

“STERIES

Kidnap Combine and the Flaming Tomb

(Continued from page 21)

behind the disappearance, telephoned the
home of the victim’s mother. When the

distraught woman answered, he asked .

bluntly, “What would you give to have
your son back home?”

Believing that she was talking to one
of the abductors, Mrs. Fried began plead-
ing with the reporter. The latter care-
fully directed the conversation until, when
he hung up, he had secured the complete
story. While he rushed this scoop to
press, the heart-broken| mother pondered
over the strange call that) was to prove
so tragic.

The next morning, the fourth day that
the victim had been in the hands of the
kidnapers, Hugo Fried, haggard and drawn
from sleepless nights, received a phone

call at the garage.

“Listen, we got a plan for_ contact
worked out.’ he was told. “Have the
dough ready. I'll call you back.” The
receiver clicked back on the hook.

SLIM, snappily dressed man, whose

pasty face was set off with a long nose
and pale slash of a mouth, slid out of the
telephone booth. He pulled the snap
brim on his gray felt hat low over his eyes
and strode out of the cigar store. His dark
sharp eyes darted about him. This street
on the East Side was bathed in a bright,
cold sunshine. Women wheeling baby car-
riages, street peddlers, pedestrians, an
heavy traffic, helped create a constant din.
eked tenement houses, their fire-escapes
littered with debris, loomed out over the
street. .

There was nothing suspicious in this
familiar scene and the pasty-faced man
rounded the first corner, then increased
his pace as he slipped round the second
corner. Flattening himself against the
wall, he peered back. Certain that no one
had followed, he doubled back on his
tracks and passed the cigar store which he
had just left. No detectives hovered about.
A smile of satisfaction broke around the
corners of his mouth. He stopped at a
candy store and purchased a newspaper.
As he walked he flipped open the pages,
briefly scanning the headlines. Suddenly
he stopped, his eyes fixed on a streamer
headline, announcing the kidnaping of
Arthur Fried. He leaned against the side
of a building and read through the entire
account. It told how the snatch was ef-
fected, the means employed by the kid-
papers in passing the ransom note and
the ruse used by Hugo to save the note
itself, while burning the envelope.

When he had finished he folded the
paper, put it under his arm and walked
swiftly northward until he came to a
remodeled brownstone house on East 19th
Street. The high stoop had been cut
away and the entrance was three steps
down from the street level. Inside he
mounted the stairs and gave two sharp
raps on an apartment door. It opened
cautiously. The pasty-faced man slipped
in quickly and shut the door behind him.

“Did any one follow you?”

“No.”

As he entered the drably furnished liv-
jng-room he took off his hat and coat and
flung them disgustedly into a chair. The
mun who had admitted him was a slightly
shorter, thinner man of about thirty. His
black hair plastered slickly, thick lips,
heavy nose and protruding ears blended
together in a eruel image.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

The pasty-faced kidnaper ignored the
question.

“Where’s the monkey?” he countered.

DECEMBER, 1939

“In there,” he inclined his head toward
the bedroom. “Did anything happen?”
h» persisted.

Pasty-Face tossed him the newspaper.
“Read it,”, he muttered, walking into the
bedroom.

Fried was seated on a white kitchen
chair in the corner, his hands were bound
at his sides, his feet tied to the chair legs
and heavy clothes line roped about his
middle. His eyes were taped and _ his
mouth gagged. Four days had wrought a
change in him. Usually dapper and well-
groomed, his clothes were baggy from con-
stant wearing, and grease-stained from the
food he had dropped on them while eat-
ing blindfolded. The haggardness of his
fuce was intensified by a four-day growth
of beard. ,

The watchman who lay on the bed, a
cigarette dangling from the corner of his
mouth, merely raised his eyes as Pasty-
Face entered.

“Is he behaving himself?”

“Sure.” The ashes dropped from the
cigarette to his shirt, but he made no
move to brush them off.

“Tf he acts up, plug ’im.”

“Uh huh.”

Fried contorted his features. It was
the only way he could tell them that he
wished to speak to them.

“Shut up!” Pasty-Face said irritably,
and Fried’s movements ceased.

The door opened and the cruel-visaged
kidnaper beckoned. excitedly. ;

Pasty-Face, who was evidently the
leader of the trio, joined him in the
living-room.

“How did this ever happen?” asked this
member of the gang, whom we will call
the Rat, as he pointed to the newspaper.

“Search me,” Pasty-Face rasped.

“Tt’s ‘terrible,’ mourned the Rat.

This meant that the entire city would
be on the lookout for Fried. The fact that
the victim’s picture was printed on the
front page made detection that much
easier. Worst of all it meant that the
CG-men were now on the case.

“This isn’t going to do us any good,”
Pasty-Face growled.

HE Rat was nervous. “We got to do

something about it.”

“Sure, sure.” Pasty-Face rubbed his
hands slowly along the side of his gaunt
visage and his gimlet eyes narrowed as
he stood deep in thought.

“We got to let him go.”

“You're crazy,” Pasty-Face spat. “He
had his tape off yesterday and he knows
me as well as you do.”

“But we can’t keep him here.”

“I said we’d do something about it——”
snapped the other, irritably.

In the bedroom Fried heard the sound
ot their voices. He now knew something
had gone wrong. Fearful for his safety he
wiiggled frantically. The rope bit deep
into his arms and legs.

“Cut it out,” warned the swarthy guard.

Fried continued to struggle.

The bed creaked as the guard raised
himself lazily on his elbow. “Hey!” he
called out. ‘

Pasty-Face’s head appeared in the door-
way “What’s up?” he asked.

“The monkey wants to talk to you.”

The Rat was at his confederate’s heels
as the latter walked over to the prisoner.
“You got something on your mind?”

ried nodded his head vigorously.

“Is it anything important?”

Again Fried nodded.

Pasty-Face made a movement with his

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small beady eyes darted furtively around
the room. The shock seemed to rob him
of the power of speech.

“We'd like to know about the Levine
kidnaping,” the Inspector continued easily.
“What do you know about it?”

Gula’s expression changed instantly to
one of confidence at the mention of the
name Levine. “You've got a lot of nerve
picking me up and accusing me of that
crime!”

“I’m not accusing you.” :

“Well, I don’t know anything about it.”

“How about the Fried kidnaping?”

“I don’t even know what you're talk-
ing about.”

n adjoining rooms, Virga and Jacknis
were undergoing similar examination,
They likewise were vehement in their de-
nial of guilt.

J. Edgar Hoover, who had arrived in
New York, was taking an active part in
the investigation. He studied the three
prisoners carefully.

ULA was hard, cruel and conceited. His
entire nature was twisted. and the
criminal streak was so deeply entrenched
that he was, in fact, a veritable human rat.
Jacknis was weak and easily led. His
love for display, fine clothing and gam-
bling made him putty in the hands of any
one who could show him how he could get
the money to indulge in these fancies.

Virga was the ordinary strong-arm thug
who was long on brawn and. short on
brain.

Gula treated the questioning con-
temptuously, but as time passed and the
Inspector who was grilling him, disclosed
more and more damning bits of infor-
mation, his attitude changed to snarling
anger.

Virga knew that he was trapped, that
it was useless to fight back and he set-
tled_ down listlessly, his face clouded and
his lips clamped tight. He refused to an-
swer the questions directed at him and at
times it seemed as though his concern over
his position was so deep that he didn’t hear
when any one spoke to him. Jacknis on
the other hand dreaded the disgrace his
crimes would bring to his wife and to
his parents. There was an added dread
that went even deeper than that, al-
though at the time the Special Agents
questioned him they did not know it.
Time and again it seemed as though he
were on the verge of talking, only to
change his mind and remain silent.

Hoover decided to concentrate on him.
He addressed him quietly in these words:
“T know that the things you’ve done are
torturing you now. Whether you speak
or not, you will pay for your crimes.”

“T don’t dare talk,” Jacknis said broken-
ly. His face was lined and haggard. This
was the closest he had come to an admis-
sion.

The Director spoke soothingly for a
while and Jacknis, fearful of a possible
fate in the electric chair for the Fried kid-
naping, and anxious to get it all off his
chest, broke down, A _ stenographer was
sent for and the story literally poured out
of him.

“T knew Danny Gula from us both hav-
ing lived down on the Kast Side. I used
to meet him over at the Ukrainian Hall.
That’s how I got to meet Steve Sacoda.
Danny introduced him to me and later on
he introduced me to Johnny Murphy;
that’s Virga. Last January, Danny, Steve
and I were walking down 6th Street and
Steve pointed out the Loew’s Commodore.
‘That’s where the money was supposed to
be thrown,’ he said. ‘Danny and I were
in on that. We chopped up the body
and burned it in the furnace.’

“T was sort, of surprised when I heard
this, but I made no comment and the
subject was dropped. Later on Danny

122

and Steve came over to me and began
telling me how much easy money there
was in making these snatches and how
foolproof it was. Danny said to me. ‘You
know these fellows in the coal business.
Put the finger on one of them?

“He showed me that it was an easy
touch and that I didn’t have to take any
part in the job. I went in with them.
We got hold of a Red Telephone Direc-
tory and under Coal Dealers we went
through all the names. I used to be in
the business once so I knew who had
money and who didn’t. When we got
down to the F’s, Danny read out Farber’s
name and I said, ‘He’s good for a couple
of grand.’ ”

He went on to explain how Steve, who
because of his sallow complexion was
called Pasty-Face and Danny Gula, known
as the Rat, effected this snatch. Danny
Gula and a stocky and somewhat dim-
witted individual named Jerry Russo who

Dr. Leonard Gottlieb, whose testi-
mony refuted charges that confes-
sions had been obtained under coercion

used to rack pool balls in the Ukrainian
Hall and knew how to take orders and
keep his mouth shut, picked up the ran-
som under the Williamsburg Bridge. It
was Jerry, hired to guard the victim, who
wore the white hat.

What worried Jacknis was that all the
victims were friends of his. While Ferber
was held captive, Jacknis was present in
the room although he did not speak lest
the victim recognize his voice. Farber,
when asked to give a list of ten interme-
diaries, named Jacknis! Later in the
week he confided in the very man re-
sponsible for his predicament. Jacknis
saw himself now in his true light—as a
Judas.

The ransom in the Farber case was split
four ways, with Jerry Russo getting only
two hundred dollars for his part.

Jacknis told how he fingered the Vijax
Coal Company stickup and the two rob-
beries of the Mishkin Coal Company.

“How did you happen to pick on Nor-
man Miller?” the Inspector asked.

Aside from the Fried case, one in which
Jacknis swore he had no part, this was
the only victim not in the coal business,

“T didn’t finger him.” Jacknis said
quickly, “although I was in on it. Danny
Gula did that himself. He has a pin ball
machine in a restaurant down in Washing-
ington Market. He was down there one
day emptying his machine and he found
a lot of silver in it. He called over to the
owner, ‘Hey, who put these in?’ And the
owner said, ‘Miller.’ ‘Who’s he?’ Danny
asked. ‘Some rich guy,’ the owner told
him.

“He came back and told Steve and me
that he’d be a good man for us to take.
When he told me that the man was
Charlie Miller, it turned out that I knew

him, too.”

Of the $13,000 ransom paid for young
Miller’s release, one thousand was given
to Denis Gula for the use of Ukrainian
Hall while the remaining $12,000 was split
four ways. Danny suggested that each
man loan the elder Gula $250. All but
Virga agreed, so that his father received
$1,750 in all. Jerry Russo received $100
from each of the four kidnapers for his
part as guard.

his confession cleaned up three kid:
napings, three robberies and a murder.
However, the information concerning the
Fried killing was vague. All he could, or
would, admit was that he had overheard
a remark made by Steve Sacoda. He
wouldn’t enlarge on this, saying that he
never returned to that subject. This
didn’t seem logical for a man who was in
such close contact with the mob.

“Are you sure you weren’t in on the
Fried kidnaping?” Director Hoover asked
sternly.

Jacknis trembled in fright. “I swear

“Who was?”

“Steve, Danny and Jerry.”

“Anybody else?”

“No. They were the only ones nas far
as I know.”

“How about Danny’s father? Did he
have anything to do with these crimes?”

“No sir, he didn’t.”

“Seventeen-hundred-and-fifty-dollars is
a steep price to pay for the use of
Ukrainian Hall, isn’t it?” Hoover asked.
“Didn’t he know for what purpose you
were going to use it?”

“No. Danny just said we'd like to use
the Hall and he said all right, and Danny
said if we should make some money he'd
give him some, That was all there was
to it.”

With this confession added to the self-
incriminating statements made in the
wired room. Special Agents confronted
Gula with all of the facts thus far devel-
oped in the case. Whenever a particularly
trenchant question was asked, he was apt
to mouth a foul oath.

Ys in the end, he too cracked and’
realizing the futility of denial of the
mass of evidence accumulated against him
gave his version of the kidnaping, at all
times being careful to blame Sacoda for
the actual murder of Arthur Fried.

At midnight on November 1st, 1938,
Gula dictated the following: “About De-
cember 4th, 1937, at about 11:45 p. at. or
twelve midnight, Steve Sucoda and I kid-
naped a person who he later told me was
Arthur Fried, Fried was driving a Pack-
ard coupe in White Plains. New York,
and Steve Sacoda and I seen him start
and we followed him for a block or two
where we forced him to the curb. Steve
Sacoda and I were riding in a Buick sedan,
license number 7N 900, owned by me and
registered in the name of my father. Denis
Gula. I jumped off the car Steve Sacoda
and I were in’ and ran over to Fried’s
Packard and told him it was a stickup. I
also drew a gun. I told Fried to move
over and I drove his car, following Steve
Sacoda to a tavern near White Plains.

“We abandoned the Packard and I
told Fried to get into the other car, which
he did. When he got in our car, we put
glasses which had tape on them on Fried
so he would not know where he was going.
Steve Sacoda was driving, Fried was in
the middle and I was on the right side of
the car. We proceeded straight to New
York to the apartment in which Steve
Sacoda was living at 240 Kast 19th Street,
Manhattan.

“Steve Sacoda and I held Arthur Fried
captive for about four days. The reason
we were holding him was for the purpose
of collecting the ransom from members

it

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

of his far
Steve Sac
one of |
about $20
he was gi
said ‘O. |
for a few
negotiatic
family.
“Two o:
came in
When I s
paper co:
Steve say-
now just
his glasses
asked him
do?’ And
knock him
he was goi:
someplace «
fold on Fri:
of the two
was playing

“QTEVE
in the
volver. A:

standing to:
was betwe:
he fell we

the blood

ning. This
night.”

The read
the confess
transpired
locale of 1!
as the trigg

“Before \
around the
Ukrainian }
swer I knew
happened a
then came bi:
Steve Sacod:
Steve Sacod:,
inian Hall as
made for t}
leading to t}
up, carried |
in the ear.
Hall and we
carried Arthi
in. This occ
to the furna:

put Fried’s |
first. We sty
hours, during
furnace down
of him, and 1
“During thy
teve Sacoda’-
main and gua:
went out to «
Arthur Fried’s
of Fried’s box:
collecting the ;
of anything ¢
some weeks |x:
ommodore 7}
and East 6th =
“Steve Sacod
pearance of H,
to the theatre
and smoking »
for him to en:
to call Steve
away in a dru
from me. T)
Hugo Fried to
the phone in th;
N€ Was to go ti
money down,
“T saw Huge
and tried to re:
Phone at the qd;
answer. I did y
the next day w!
was thick with .
pay-off did not
no other efforts

MARCH, 1940

ms

have, and that she was working a racket
on innocent people. On the basis of this
information, a formal complaint was issued
by the police, charging Mrs. Caprarra with
Obtaining money under false pretenses.

Riccardi began an investigation of the
charges. He soon learned that Mrs. Ca-
prarra, known in the neighborhood as “The
Witch of Venango Street,” was indeed us-
ing devious ways and means to extract
money from the superstitious, and that
there was some inundation for the charges
made by Mrs. Favato.

The case against Mrs. Caprarra was
prosecuted in due course. Mrs: Favato, who
appeared as a witness against her, soberly
told the court that she had awakened one
night to find seven horned devils dancing
around her bed and that the defendant
was responsible for the misfortune which
had come upon her household. Valenti, a
huge fellow with gnarled hands and the
red face of a peasant, also appeared as
a witness. As a result of this and. cor-
roborating testimony, Mrs. Caprarra. was
found guilly of the crime of obtaining
money under false pretenses.

HIS incident, quite unimportant in it-

self, opened up a wide avenue of
thought in Riccardi’s mind. In his investi-
gation he picked up bits of information
which had little bearing on the case, but,
which directed his suspicions to other and
more sinister channels. That tiny embryo
which precedes action—a detective’s hunch
—began to grow in his mind,

The seed of his suspicions went back a
few years, prior to the time of Mrs. De
Luca’s death. He had learned that during
the last few years of her life, five persons
in her home had died—her husband, son,
and three boarders.

Riccardi decided to do a little bit of
quiet checking and when he delved into
the records at the office of the Bureau of
Vital Statistics, his hunch began to wither
away, for everything in connection with
the deaths was in order. The deceased had
died, according to the records, of “natural
causes.” The detective smiled ruefully to
himself as he decided he was a victim of
too fertile an imagination.

But the two witnesses in the Caprarra
case—Mrs. I’avato and the man-mountain
Valenti—continued to intrigue him. A
check on Valenti quickly brought the in-

formution that the man was a killer. Way
back in November of 1918, the record
showed, Valenti had come to the home
of his estranged wife in Media, » suburb
of Philadelphia, wounded his wife and son,
and then shot down and killed a boarder,
Bartelo Agostino. After this murder, Va-
lenti fled but he was apprehended several
months later in Connecticut. He was
brought back to Philadelphia where he
pleaded guilty to a charge of second de-
gree murder and was sentenced to the
Eastern State Penitentiary for a term of
thirteen years. Since his release in 1932,
after serving his full sentence, the big
man’s activities and means of livelihood
were shrouded in mystery.

What Riccardi learned of Mrs. Favato’s
background did not help any to allay his
fears. The woman, apparently taking a
leaf out’ of Mrs. Caprarra’s book, was go-

-ing in quite heavily for some of the witch-

craft business herself, taking over all and
sundry who were ignorant and supersti-
tious enough to believe in her vaunted
powers of “the evil eye.”

The detective found out that Charles
Favato, the last person to die in the Bou-
vier Street home, had been the woman's
common-law husband. This man _ had
passed away on August 14th, less than two
months before the germ of suspicion had
begun to grow in Riceardi’s mind, and his
investigations had heretofore concerned
themselves solely with the deaths of the
persons in the house during the lifetime
of Mrs. De Luca, the mother of Mrs.
Favato. His jaw set grimly as he doggedly
made up his mind to probe the passing
away of Charles Favato. .

Mrs. Favato, the detective soon found
out, had been married before to a man
named Pontorelli and this legal husband
had deserted her some ten years before.
Four years later she was to testify to the
accuracy of the detective’s information in

the courtroom where she was fighting for .

her ‘life. She had a twenty-year-old son
from this union, a youth named Joseph
Pontorelli who now lived alone with his
mother in the mysterious house which had
throbbed with so much life a short time
before.

The more Riccardi speculated on the
lavish manner in which the Favato woman
was living, the more he was puzzled. What
was the source of her income? Quietly he

began delving into her financial affairs. At
a North Philadelphia bank he ascertained
that she had deposited close to $6000 in
a lump sum and had provided at about
the same time a $2400 life annuity for her
son, Joseph,

These transactions had taken place dur-
ing the latter part of August—shortly after
the death of Charles Favato.

The detective’s eyes widened, and _ his
heart began to beat faster as the signifi-
cance of this date flashed through his mind.

Insurance—that was the answer! The
collection of death benefits had been a

compelling motive, he well knew, in the’

black hearts of ruthless murderers.

During the next few days, as the plod-
ding detective went from the office of one
insurance company to another, the fertile
embryo of suspicion continued to germi-
nate and grow. By the end of the week
his little black notebook contained a va-
riety of dates, figures and other statistics,
all of which added up to the fact that
policies aggregating the sum of $10,600 had
been written on the life of Charles Favato,
And all of them had been issued during
the year preceding his death!

Riceardi’s hunch—for, from the point of
view of evidence it was still not more than
that—kept pegging away at his mind dur-
ing the week-end. It simply would not
down,

On Monday morning; the detective rose
earlier than usual. Breakfast was tasteless,
insipid, as he made his plans for that day,
When he reached the City Hall, his face
was grim and his cold gray eyes gave no
a of the excitement that surged within
him,

He shot up in the elevator to the fifth
floor and went straight to the district at-
torney’s office, He barged open a door,
and faced one of the assistant prosecuting
officials,

“There’s something rotten in this Fa-
vato case,” he said. “It smells like murder
to me!”

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Kidnap Combine and the F laming Tomb

could see no poolroom in the vicinity. Cir-
cling the block in the hope of finding a
poolroom whose back faced the end of
the Hall, he also drew a blank.

The following day he returned, carry-
ing a suitense filled with ties. In the
guise of a silesman he entered the Hall,
turned into the main meeting room and
noted the wooden folding chairs leaning
against the wall. Suddenly he stopped,
for he heard the unmistakable click of
pool balls coming from the basement.
When nobody came forward to greet him,
he walked down the steps, through a wide
corridor into a room which was a combi-
nation bar-and-grill and pool hall con-
taining four tables.

Masking his elation, he trudged back up
the steps and returned to the Field Office
where he reported what he had found.

While these events were taking place,
Special Agenis covering the various race
tracks in the Hast, continued their check
on Packard Club coupés. They did not
limit themselves lo gray ones, which was
the color of the car young Miller thought
the kidnapers used, because it would have
been easy for him to err as to color in

120

(Continued from page 32)

that dark street on a rainy night.

During the course of this investigation
there was observed at the Belmont. race
track a black Packard Club coupé bear-
ing 1938 New York license plates num-
ber 6C-65-00. In the routine check it was
ascertained that these plates were regis-
tered in the name of Denis Gula of 53
St. Marks Place, New York City. Trac-
ing the man’s car ownership back to 1937,
they discovered that he at that time owned
a Buick sedan which bore license plate
number 7N 900. The fact that his last
year license plates bore the figure 7N
made him a subject for further investi-
gation.

Stationed outside the St. Marks Place
address, a pair of Special Agents waited
until Gula left his home, then shadowed
him. Gula was a slim, sharp-featured
man whose age was somewhere between
fifty and sixty years old. His age came
as a disappointment. In neither the Fried
nor Miller investigations was there a single
bit of evidence to show that any of the
participants in the crimes, was past thirty-
five years of age. 2

The subject made no attempt to hide

his movements and the FRI agents
watched in amazement as he turned into
East 6th Street and entered Ukrainian
Hall!

That two separate leads should end in
this building seemed more than a coin-
cidence. The Federal Agents were positive
that this was the place where Miller had
been held captive. The fact that Loew’s
Commodore was located on the same
street was a good indication that Fried
also had been held captive here.

FTER Gula had entered the Hall the

Special Agents scouted about and
learned that he leased the restaurant con-
cession in this building and so had ready
access to the premises.

In the days that followed, Hoover or-
dered a close. watch kept on the car, on
Gula and Ukrainian Hall. Although the
Packard was listed in the name of Denis
Gula, they noticed that a tall, slim man
with black, slick hair, long nose and rat-
like face, usually had it in his posses-
sion. Checking further they learned that
this was Demetrius (Danny) Gula, the
28-year-old son of the concessionnire, His

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

looks talli
tion Norm
Number T
was the th
of the vict
halt.

For a w
sight. FBI
moment he
to the mon
They learn
previously |
the law, o1
a prison te:
support we:
he owned :;
rants. His
track where
all proporti
possibly ear

F the m
he wa:
chummy th:
who were
learned that
dered, hard-:
the height o1
him to the r:
was William
wife in a m:
Side. His i
could learn
job as a WP
hardly woul.
taste in ho:
amount of n
shadowed—o
one time he
the Jackson
gambled that
The other :
dressed indiv
Murphy by |!
small furnis!
ledge Street
the bellplate
was John Vir:
but gave no -
Both men
being out on
men were se
together with
trips to the .
who had a |.
purpose of th:
from Sing Sing
named Steve.
until a month
revoked. A t:
full name was
was the undo
The Agents
under surveil],
famous snatch
clue led unerri
exhaustive inv:
inated all oth:
The descrip:
Gula, while \
furnished by y
ther Jacknis, :
pated in these
mystery, altho:
with Gula and
But here the |
lem. If they a:
ga and Jacknis,
broken. Convic:
whom Norman :
naping, howeve:
an unsolved cri:
ing similarity i:
was committed
Same mob was ;
_A criminal +
tion against h}:
never, On the
tim had been

faced by an ov

dence, was boun
fess. But in the

MARCH, 1940


and
Jenis
‘oda
ied’s
». I
10ve
steve
id I
. hich

put
ried
oing.
is In
le of
New
steve
treet,
Fried
souson
irpose
inbers

rERIES

4

of his family. After holding him for a day,
Steve Sacoda made Fried write a letter to
one of the members of his family for
about $200,600 ransom. Steve Sacoda said
he was going out to deliver the letter. I
said ‘O. K.’ I did not see Steve Sacoda
for a few hours because he was making
negotiations with some member of Fried’s
family.

“Two or three days later Steve Sacoda
came in and showed me a_ newspaper.
When I seen it I said, ‘Let him go.’ The
paper contained the Fried kidnaping.
Steve says, ‘You're crazy. He knows me
now just like you do because he had
his glasses off when he was with me.’ I
asked him, ‘Well, what are you going to
do?’ And he says, ‘What do you think,
knock him off.’ He told Arthur Fried that
he was going to blindfold him to take him
someplace else and he then put the blind-
fold on Fried. We were then in the parlor
of the two room apartment and the radio
was playing.

“A TEVE drew a revolver and shot Fried

in the head. He used a .32 caliber re-
volver. At this time Arthur Fried was
standing toward the foot of the bed which
was between the two windows and after
he fell we wrapped his head in rags so
the blood would be stopped from: run-
ning. This happened about twelve mid-
night.”

The reader will note at this point that
the confession differed from what actually
transpired in that Danny changed the
locale of the shooting and named Steve
as the trigger man. ‘

“Before we put Fried. in the car I-went
around the corner and made.a call to the
Ukrainian Hall. Upon receiving no‘ an-
swer I knew the place was closed. This
happened a little after twelve o’clock. I
then came back to the apartment and told
Steve Sacoda that the place was closed.
Steve Sacoda, while working at the Ukra-
inian Hall as a porter, had duplicate keys
made for the Ross door and the door
leading to the furnace. We picked Fried
up, carried him between us and put him
in the car. We drove to the Ukrainian
Hall and we opened the front door, We
carried Arthur out of the car and took him
in. This occurred about 1 a. mM. We went
to the furnace in the Ukrainian Hall and
put Fried’s body in, putting the head in
first. We stayed there for three or four
hours, during which time we shook the
furnace down and put more coal on top
of him, and then left.

“During the time that we had Fried at
Steve Sacoda’s apartment. I would re-
main and guard him when Steve Sacoda
went out to carry out negotiations with
Arthur Fried’s family. After we disposed
of Fried’s body, Steve Sacoda discussed
collecting the ransom, but I do not know
of anything done along that line until
some weeks later when I covered Loew’s
Commodore Theatre at Second Avenue
and East 6th Street.

“Steve Sacoda described to me the ap-
pearance of Hugo Tried who was to come
to the theatre with a package in his arm,
and smoking a cigar and I was to watch
for him to enter the theatre when I was
to call Steve Sacoda who was a block
away in a drug store waiting for a call
from me. The arrangements were for
Hugo Fried to receive a telephone eall at
the phone in the lobby of the theatre and
he was to go to some exit and throw the
money down.

“T saw Hugo Fried enter the theatre
and tried to reach Steve Sacoda by tele-
phone at the drug store. but he did not
answer. I did not see Steve Sacoda until
the next day when he said that the place
was thick with cops that evening and the
pay-off did not take place. 1 know of
no other efforts made after this time to

MARCH, 1940

collect the ransom money.”

When Virga was confronted with both
confessions, he likewise admitted his part
in the crime, although his admissions were
more guarded,

Special Ayents who were dispatched to
Sing Sing to talk to the leader of the kid-
nap gang, ran into a stone wall. The con-
vict, his pasty face set in cold, hard lines,
refused to answer any questions. The fact
that his three confederates had all im-
plicated him apparently left him un-
moved. :

The hunt for Jerry Russo proved futile
when a search of all his known haunts
failed to reveal him.

News of the breaking of the infam-
ous kidnap gang was a sensation with the
press of the nation writing it as just
another instance which proved the match-
less ability of the FBI.

Since none of the crimes committed by
the mob violated a Federal law, the case
was turned over to the State authorities.
Assistant District Attorney Jacob J. Ros-
enblum, brilliant chief of New York
County’s Homicide Bureau whose splen-
did record in the two years he has held
this job surpasses that of any previous
holder of the office, and Captain Edward
Mullins, head of the New York Homicide
Squad of the Police Department and
ranked as the nation’s outstanding de-
tective, took charge of the case’ from this
point.

Although the crimes were solved and
the participants all safely lodged in jail,
many difficulties confronted these offi-
cials. The law is specific on one point:
where the corpus delicti is absent and
where evidence cannot establish it, the
charge of murder is not tenable.

Cunning Steve Sacoda who learned his
criminal law behind prison bars knew this
well when he cremated Arthur Fried.

But he reckoned without one thing:
Prosecutor Rosenblum, chief aide in the
office of District Attorney Thomas E.
Dewey, is a man with a high sense of
justice. He believes that a criminal should
be given a fair deal. He believes also in
giving the public a square deal.

Tn this case, he felt, justice demanded
the extreme penalty, for it would serve
notice to the underworld that a perfect
murder does not. exist.

KX OWING that Sacoda was practically
immune to a homicide indictment,
Assistant. District Attorney Rosenblum
dug into the statute books, came up with
a little known law that had been hastily
passed by the New York Legislature at
the time of the Lindbergh kidnaping. It
held that where the victim of an abduc-
tion was not returned by the time the
accused went to trial, the prosecutor,
should he bring the accused to trial within
thirty days of the filing of the indictment,
might ask for the death penalty.

The G-men had, in the course of track-
ing down the mob, unearthed a wealth of
evidence tying its members to the Miller
and Farber kidnapings.

As to the Fried case, however, there
was nothing but the confession of Gula.
That confession implicated Sacoda and
Gula but could legally be introduced only
against Gula. Gula had taken the position
that it was Sacoda who shot. Fried in his
Kast 19th Street apartment before ried
was shoved into the furnace of Ukrain-
ian Hall. There was no legal evidence as
to Sacoda. Rosenblum could have worked
out arrangements whereby he might have
used Gula as a witness against Sacoda, but
in that event only one of the two mur-
derers would have been brought to jus-
tice. The heinousness of the crime and
good common sense justice clearly indi-
cated to him that he could not permit
this. Rosenblum was then forced to get

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24

nts
into
van

in
in-
tive
had
2w’s
ime
ried

the
and
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sady

or-
. on
the
enis
man
rat-
sses-
that
the
His

ERIES

looks tallied perfectly with the descrip-
tion Norman Miller had furnished of the
Number Two man in the snatch. This
was the thug who had clung to the side
of the victim’s car, finally forcing it to a
halt.

For a week, Danny was constantly in
sight. FBI men shadowed him from the
moment he left his house in the morning
to the moment he went to bed at night.
They learned that he was married and
previously had had two brief brushes with
the law, one of them having resulted in
a prison term. His only visible means’ of
support were a few slot machines which
he owned and rented to various restau-
rants. His favorite hangout was the race
track where the size of his bets was out of
all proportion to the income one could
possibly earn from those machines.

F the many people in whose company
he was seen, two appeared more
chummy than the rest. The Special Agents
who were assigned to trail them soon
learned that the first, a tall, broad-shoul-
dered, hard-faced man who was dressed in
the height of fashion, usually accompanied
him to the race track. This person’s name
was William Jacknis, and he lived with his
wife in a modest flat on the lower East
Side. His income so far as the agents
could learn was derived solely from_his
job as a WPA playground instructor. This
ardly would account for his expensive
taste in horses—he lost a considerable
amount of moncy during the time he was
shadowed—or his expensive wardrobe. At
one time he had prospered as president of
the Jackson Coal Company, but he had
“gambled that business away. ;

The other man, a squat. swarthy, poorly
dressed individual who was called Johnny
Murphy by his friends, was trailed to a
small furnished apartment at 265 Rut-
ledge Street in Brooklyn. His name on
the bellplate in the vestibule of the house
was John Virga. He was a tailor by trade
but gave no sign that he still practised it.

Both men had criminal records, Virga
being out on parole at the moment. These
men were seen in conference often, and
together with Danny Gula made frequent
trips to the office of a certain attorney
who had a large criminal practise. ‘The
purpose -of this was to secure the release
from Sing Sing on parole of a pal of theirs
named Steve. The latter had been out
until 2 month before, when his parole was
revoked. A tall, pasty-faced thug whose
full name was Joseph Stephen Sacoda, he
was the undoubted leader of these men.

The Agents were certain that they had
under surveillance at least part of the in-
famous snatch mob. Not only had each
clue led unerringly to these men, but the
exhaustive investigation had already elim-
inated all other possibilities.

The description given by Miller fitted
Gula, while Virga tallied with the one
furnished by young Sidney Lehrer. Whe-
ther Jacknis, the fashion plate, partici-
pated in ‘these crimes was somewhat of a
mystery, although his close association
with Gula and Virga was suspicious.

But here the FBI faced a difficult prob-
lem. If they arrested Gula, Sacoda, Vir-
ga and Jacknis, the Miller case would be
broken. Conviction would follow for those
whom Norman identified. The Fried kid-
naping, however, would still be listed as
an unsolved crime even though the strik-
ing similarity in the manner in which it
was committed showed plainly that the
same mob was responsible.

A criminal rarely volunteers informa-
tion against himself; a shrewd criminal
never. On the snatch in which the vic-
tim had been returned alive the mob,
faced by an overwhelming mass of evi-
dence, was bound to break down and con-
fess. But in the Fried case, far more vital

mancH, 1940

since a murder had apparently been com-
mitted, what lever could be used to pry out
a confession for a crime in which not an
iota of evidence admissible in a court of
law existed against them?

Hoover did not underestimate the cun-
ning of these men. The body of Arthur
Fried had been secreted with such fiend-
ish cleverness that it still defied detection.
Sizing up the mob from the steady stream
of reports that flowed across his desk,
the FBI Director laid plans carefully. The
three men were to be arrested separately,
rushed to Federal Building and grilled on
the Peter Levine kidnaping—the tragic
case of the boy whose bound and muti-
lated body was washed up from the waters
of Long Island Sound—and on the Fried
case.

The questions shot at these men were
to be of so general a nature that they
would not suspect the evidence that was
piled against them. The Miller_snatch
wasn’t to be mentioned at all. If they
cracked under this simple questioning, a
fact that was doubtful in the extreme, that
would end the matter. But if they
reacted as the Director of the FBI rea-
soned they would, there would be protes-
tations of innocence and badly frightened,
they would be placed in a separate room
to think it over.

The success of the plan depended on
what was to follow. The kidnapers were
bound to take stock of their actions. How
did the G-men tie them in? Had some-
one squealed? If so, who outside the
mob knew about the crime? Was some-
thing lying around, like a fingerprint, or
a description, that pointed the finger of
guilt at them? To these criminals’ way
of thinking, the fact that the G-men asked
so many questions about the Levine case,
one in which they had had no part, would
show that they were shooting in the
dark, and the fact that they apparently
were on the verge of being released, proved
it.

HIS assurance, however, was counter-

balanced by the disquieting thought
that out of a city of seven million people
they were the ones chosen to be ques-
tioned also about the Fried kidnaping.

No men in their position would be
able to withstand the temptation to at-
tempt to resolve those doubts. It would
smoke them into the open.

It was a mild, sunshiny day when Danny
Gula, his topcoat draped neatly over his
arm, stepped out of the hallway of his
home into the street. In a few strides
he was across the sidewalk and had opened
the door of the Packard coupé. ‘two men
who had been lolling against the wall of
the building quickly stepped forward and
took him by the elbows. So sudden was
the action that Gula jerked about in ter-
ror.

“Take it easy,” one of the men said,
showing his shield. “We’re from the De-
partment of Justice.”

“So what!” Gula sneered, somewhat re-
gaining his composure.

“We want you downtown.”

He was led to the car which the Spe-
cial Agents had parked around the corner,
and driven to the Federal Building.

On the way he asked, “What’s this all
about?” :

One of the Agents told him, “You'll find
out soon enough.”

Standing in front of the desk of the
Inspector in charge, he repeated the ques-
tion.

“We would just like to have a little
chat with you,” the Inspector said pleas-
antly.

“About what?” Gula asked belligerently.

“About a kidnaping.”

Gula’s dark face went pale, his hands
gripped the edge of the desk, while his

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thirty years old and was dressed very
sharply, in gray. One of the others was
about five years younger, heavy-set,
about five-ten with a swarthy com-
plexion.”

Reece did not get a good look at the
third of his abductors. Vetterli ques-
tioned the young man for hours and
went over the details again and again.

“About how fast did they drive when
you were taken away from Avenue O?”
the agent asked.

“I would say about twenty-five miles
per hour.”

“Can you think of anything else, no
matter how trivial it might seem, about
that car ride?”

“Well, the radio was playing when we
first started out.”

“Do you remember what station they
had on or what was being played?”

“Someone turned the radio off soon
after we started while the song, ‘A
Tisket, A Tasket’ was being played.”

“How long did you drive after that
before you finally stopped?” Vetterli
asked, trying to establish the exact time
of the kidnaping.

“I would estimate about a half hour.”

“What kind of streets did it feel like
you were driving over?”

42

UU Sitti thy

LL eae

Negotiations for payment of ransom money were made from this apartment where the kidnaped man was being held.

“Main thoroughfares, by and large,”
Reece replied.

“Now think,” Vetterli said. “Did you
hear any noises or notice anything
else when they took you out of the
car?”

“One of the men remarked that it
was one A.M. as I was hauled out of
the car,” Reece stated. “And I re-
member that I heard the rumble of an
elevated subway nearby.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, the next morning was Sun-
day and I remember listening to a
church bell tolling. I counted thirty-six
chimes.” Also, that day one of the men
remarked that he was going to walk
down the block and take in a movie.

The FBI agent had been taking notes
exhaustively, “Do you have any idea
what kind of car you were abducted
in?” he asked.

“No,” Reece answered. “But I do
remember that the car smelled new.”

TT next morning Harold Reece was
taken to a dozen different automo-
bile showrooms and seated in the front
seat of the different makes of new cars.
After sitting in a Packard, Reece was
certain, from the springing, the incline

setae = Sash i een 24s eh

of the seat, and the feel of the up-
holstery, that that had been the make
of car he was abducted in. It was a
1938 Packard coupe.

Reece mentioned one more fact
which the federal agent found interest-
ing. He said that on the day he was
kidnaped his father had won $5,000
at a race track. Vetterli was convinced
that this had some connection with the
abduction. He notified the police at each
of the city’s race tracks to alert their
parking lot attendants to be on the look-
out for a 1938 Packard coupe and
report the license plate. If the suspect
car turned up then Vetterli would check
and see if its owner had had a Buick
or Oldsmobile. with a 7N license plate
the previous year.

Then Vetterli got in touch with all the
local radio stations. He asked the net-
work authorities to check and find out
if and at what exact moment, that
song had been played, on the night of
July 23rd. One popular station reported
that the song had been played at exactly
12:35 a.M. That meant Harold Reece
had been driven from Avenue O at
about 12:30 and had arrived at the
place of captivity at one a.m. Reece
had been driven for 30 minutes at about

DETECTIVE CASES

Handcuffed suspect (c.) is pictured here between Detective Ed Shields (I.) and Detective George Swander.

25 miles per hour it was estimated.
Agents in cars were sent to 22nd
Street and Avenue O, from which point
they were instructed to drive for 30
minutes at 25 miles an hour. They were
then to radio their locations to Vetterli.
The federal agent plotted the locations
as they came in ona huge map of New
York City. Taking a large compass, he
drew a circle, with 22nd Street and
Avenue O as the center, and the furthest
point reported as the circumference.
“Somewhere in this circle is the place
we are looking for,” the agent said.

He then sent squads of men out to
look for places within the circle where
there was a coincidence of a pool hall,
an elevated subway, a movie theatre,
a church and a meeting hall or gym.
Thirty-one such locations were found
within the circle. J. Edgar Hoover as-
signed more men to the case and Vet-
terli sent one man to cover each area.
Nineteen of the locations were in
Brooklyn and 12 in lower Manhattan.

Three months later an agent as-
signed to one of the areas in lower
Manhattan worked through the night.
On Sunday morning he heard a nearby
church bell tolling. He counted 36
DETECTIVE CASES

strokes. He looked up the street and
saw a movie theatre at the end of the
block. A few moments later the agent
heard the roar of the Third Avenue
elevated line. He was on the corner of
Sixth Street and Second Avenue and
he began to look for the one thing
that was missing—a pool hall. The agent
walked up Sixth Street, but could find
no pool parlor. He came to a place in
the middle of the block called the
Ukranian Hall. It seemed to be a social
hall. The agent stnod outside for some
time. Finally someo..e came out.

“Say Mac,” he said, “can a guy get
a game of pool in there?”

“Sure, if he’s a member,” the stranger
Teplied.

The agent phoned Vetterli and noti-
fied him of his discovery. It was agreed
that it would be unwise to search the
Ukranian Hall at that hour. Vetterli
suggested that they wait until after
church let out, when more people
could be in the hall. Vetterli assigned
another agent in the area.

A few hours later the two federal
investigators walked down five steps into
the building. They heard the sound of
clicking pool balis and walked toward
it. Presently, they came to a staircase

and walked down twelve steps to the
floor below, just as Reece had reported.
On this floor there were four pool
tables. Beyond the pool hall area there
was a large meeting room with a wooden
floor and stacks of folding chairs against
the walls. There was no doubt that they
had found the place to which Harold
Reece had been taken after his abduc-
tion. The federal agents reported their
findings to Vetterli.

Agent Vetterli, in turn, notified J.
Edgar Hoover, who ordered that ten
men keep the Ukranian Hall under con-
Stant surveillance. No arrests were to
be made yet.

A FEW days ‘later a Packard coupe
was spotted at a race track. The
parking attendant copied its license
plate number and handed it to a track
policeman. The number was then for-
warded to Vetterli, Checking with the
motor vehicle bureau, it was learned
that the Packard’s owner had had a
black Buick coupe, license number
7N-900, registered to him the previous
year. The owner was a Mr. Gula of
Brooklyn, New York.
A check was run on Gula and it was
(Continued on page 64)
43


TRACK DOWN THE SNATCH-KILLERS

{*4
BA

They were willing to pay, but the kidnappers got : : Victim was forced into car by petty hoodiums, held in 19th Street apartment. Fantastic work by F.B.1. solved two ne %

by VICTOR L. PRESTON

*% ARTHUR FRIED. phoned his The White Plains police got. busy on

wife at 11:40 on the night of Decem- . the oan, and, within the next peut lo-

; : 5 cated the missing man’s Packard coupe
4th ‘and told her that he’ was. just abandoned in front of a tavern on Mam-
leaving his mother’s house in White — aroneck Avenue. It was towed to’ the

Plains, -New York, and would be police lab. and thoroughly examined. .

: : The technicians found that all finger-
home shortly. He had only a short prints, including those of the owner,

distance to drive. Arthur's wife was “had been wiped clean. The vehicle
surprised when midnight came and yielded no clues whatever,

; ‘ Later that day, when the tavern opened
ats he was, not home. At-one A.M. for business, its Owner was questioned.
she became uneasy and an hour later That man said that he had noticed the
shé was extremely frightened over Packard earlier that morning when. he -
her husband’s lateness. Mrs. Fried ns Bora ge Neat an Bate

had nO Gy. of knowing at that time tavern owner. reported seeing nothing

that she would never see her husband unusual the previous night and early
bgt ie DistrictsAttorney Walt Gave and ste og ae beat
; istric orney Walter Ferris an honey # 4 an me aa . | Ae aie ate 3

p At two wos Mis: Peed, phoned: Bet Chiet of; Police: Willian: Millers Were, 5 4k ieee , ye . ct ie FRR

confirmed that her son had left chee notified of “Arthur “Fried’s. disappear ugaam 4 nig Gt Ree Uidiihi a

honest s ruicecafterethe oh ance and they immediately went to; = a ; . ¥ a #8 ete Page :
call Peet ti403 > che e phone “the Fried home to obtain’ the known’ s 3 ea "3 Vinay tH

fi ? th "a : ied cana Nii facts. Until ‘the “kidnapers ' phoned. age ~* ‘ : Rios “att g

and : voit rs hie Pack 3 wate ed im” again, they. decided, there was little that :

otor A TS 2h AC ha, COUPE could be: done except to run a routine

afi a3 Ht teow oe tse ‘mothet- check on the missing man’s background.

in-law told the worried wife. “I'll call ~}¢ was learned that Arthur Fried had

’ Arthur's brothers and ask them to Come heen en oat :
ee gaged in a prosperous business,
over too. They'll know what, to do.* Whose accounts weré in perfect order.
| Four ’a.M. found: the entire Wealthy “Mr, Fried’s physician reported that the
Fried, family gathered in the ornate liv. missing man had» been’ in excellent
ing room of the dowager’s White Plains’ health, both physical: and mental. A
home still waiting anxiously for word © canvass of hotels and hospitals was
from Arthur. The tenseness in the room made without locating Fried.” The. in-,
was. suddenly broken’ by the shrill yestigators could turn up no reason why
jangling of the phone. All eyes focused “the husband might have: run away on
on Arthur's wife-as she lifted the Te- “his own account. There was no reason
PeIVeh : ae : to doubt that he had’ indeed’ been kid-
“Arthur... . Arthur, is that you? naped. e os pes: 1a : .
er ABR ; sab eee ee St reat
“The family watched the wife’s face 4, 7 tidnieht the kidnapers :
anxiously for signs of what the tidings Ly Ree rea aaa are j
were. They saw her face sag and tears. Gricers assigned to the case watched

well up in the corners of her eyes as ‘ :
‘ ; 3 as Mrs. Fried answered. it. They asked
she listened to Someone talk and-an- to speak to Hugo Fried. 5

swered in mumbled monosyllables. They tiphe
watched her as she hung up and turned ‘bey brother ee pe ae h
to face them, her. face ashen. : ApS rd call the. police? 5,8: FOUg
i cans has been kidnaped,” she said, eR her gs oe : se
“and ‘then fainted: 2% 3) FO 9B kG eo heck Peete aes Peary : : ek eo ‘ a
“Mrs. Fried -Was given spitits-of am- O.K," the “kidnaper said. ‘Go to. ; a : ; : ee Bos s : py
monia Sbaewhen bbe caine’ to she told het garage in the Bronx. I'll call, you ee, oa > ' ee eons: fis
the family that the phone call had been reas ; be Te ; : : : 3 cae waiting to meet Hugo Fried at his Go in and wait for me to phone you.’ had been’ given’ to the: police ollicer
~ from the Liddapperks They told her ° Hugo Fried did not have a chance to : see ee ae sarape: They were there when the kid- Tell’ the bartender that your name is® and asked that he be allowed to follo
that Arthur’ was, alive and well and S7Y anything else as the caller had _ 2 <P pg ee napers phoned with further, instructions. Mr. Hudson in case he answers. I'll. them without interference or help fr
would temain ‘so if. their. instructions. already hung up. SAP LaA ara: ee Bet "Get in your car,” the voice com- ask for Mr. Hudson.” de the poliddiiesee cea meet ed
were followed to the letter: The ‘kid- Chief Miller did not have jurisdiction _ ; Sore es yee manded, “and drive to York Avenue.” “Let me speak to. my brother,” Hugo » <.MIf they find out that thé police ar
- napers would contact them‘on the fol- . 7. the Bronx so he phoned New. York sie sey ee ‘ Turn right on Seventy-ninth Street in “said, : Beas in. on ‘this, theyll kill Arthur. Please
slowing day: ©) ry cod City “police, authorities and apprised es Manhatten. On Amsterdam, Avenue A Click told the brother that the kid--~ you must let: me go aldne oy) Senet
Hugo Eried took control of the situ-. them of the situation. The New York ©. L Fried (r) (| turn left and proceed to Sixth Street. naper had hung up. Fe ~The» detectives agreed,” since they
ation and immediately called the police. police promised to have two: detectives disappeared in White “Plains... = Stop in front of Kelly's Bar and Grill... Hugo repeated the instructions he knew) that the.kidnapers were just. Set:

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went to bed. She was pretty drunk, but
before she passed out I tried to make a
date with her for the weekend. She said
she couldn't because she was already
dated up with somebody else. That
made me sore. So after she went to
sleep I kept thinking about it and finally
thought of a way to get even and fix it
so maybe she couldn’t keep any week-
end date. I tossed a burning cigarette in
the closet where all her clothes were
and waited until I was sure they’d catch
on fire.

“But like I say, I was drunk myself
and the first thing I knew there was too

much of a fire. So I got frightened and
grabbed my topcoat and hat and beat
it. I guess I figured the smoke would
wake Helen up, but it didn’t.”

Later that night he signed his con-
fession. On November 22nd he was
arraigned in Brooklyn Felony Court on
a homicide charge. Magistrate Abner
Surpless ordered him held without bail.

Because of the full docket in Brook-
lyn Criminal Court, Elliott was not
brought to trial until the following
spring. On May 25, 1953, his trial, for
first degree murder, began. The follow-

ing day, on counsel’s advice, he inter- '

cupted the trial proceedings to plead
guilty to first degree manslaughter,
throwing himself on the court’s mercy.
Presiding Judge Carmen J. Marasco
accepted his plea and sentenced him to
a term of seven to 15 years in the state
penitentiary,

Chester Elliott was paroled from
Green Haven Prison on December 3rd,
1957; and he died on August 8th, 1958,
at the Veterans Hospital, Brooklyn,
New York.

Editor’s Note: The name Olaf Swenson
is fictitious.

KIDNAPERS’ HOLIDAY

(Continued from page 43)

learned that he was the manager of
the Ukranian Hall. Without tipping their
hand, the agents were able to take
several photographs of the hall manager:
These were shown to Harold Reece,
who stated positively that the manager
was not one of the men who had kid-
naped him. The obvious conclusion was
that Gula either rented or loaned his
car to someone else. This assumption
was soon confirmed when the agent
assigned to tail the manager learned
that the car was often used by Gula’s
son, Demetrius. The very next day an
agent followed Demetrius, called Danny
by his friends, to a race track. At the
track, Danny Gula met a friend. After
the races the agent tailed Danny and
the friend to what was apparently the
friend’s home in Brooklyn.

A quick check disclosed that the
friend’s name was Pete Rizzo, a hood-
lum well known to the New York po-
lice, who often used the name Jake
Lascala as an alias. Danny Gula was
a dapper man, about 30 years old, 5
feet nine inches tall, with a small must-
ache and a taste for sharp gray. suits.
Rizzo was heavier, slightly taller and of
swarthy complexion. They fit the de-
scriptions suppled by Reece to a T.

Gula and Rizzo were kept under
constant surveillance. It was noticed
that the two men were constantly going
to visit a criminal lawyer. The purpose
of these visits was soon learned. It
seems Rizzo and Gula had a friend
in prison named Steve Sacoda. The two
men were trying to spring Sacoda from
Sing Sing where he had recently been
sent after violating his parole. Neither
Rizzo nor Gula had any visable means
of support and the FBI assumed that
they were living off Reece’s ransom
money.

Harold Reece was taken in a car to
a spot where he could observe, unseen,
the comings and goings at the Ukranian
Hall. He. unhesitatingly pointed out
Danny Gula and Pete Rizzo as two of
the men who had kidnaped him. The
positive identification was reported to
64

J. Edgar Hoover. The FBI head felt,
however, that no arrests should be made
yet. If the Reece kidnapers were
rounded up and convicted the kidnap-
ing of Arthur Fried might go unsolved.
If the bureau bided its time and kept
the abduction ring under surveillance,
they might yet obtain the evidence in
the Fried murder.

At this point a third suspect entered
the picture. Another man was observed
going to the attorney’s office with Rizzo
and Gula. This man was soon identified
as James Russo, a small-time punk with
a police record. Harold Regce had said
that he was kidnaped by three men.
Russo might very well have been the
third man, Vetterli thought.

During the next week the trio was
seen constantly together. The police
records disclosed one interesting fact
about James Russo. He had a reputa-
tion for a willingness to talk under
pressure. Finally, Hoover decided to
move. He believed that if each member
of the trio were questioned indepen-
dently, with specal attention to Russo,
someone would be willing to talk.

On October 25th, 1948, Vetterli had
the three suspects picked up and
brought to the Federal Building, where
they were questioned separately at great
length. James Russo, true to form,
broke quickly. Pete Rizzo soon followed
suit. Both admitted their part in the
Reece kidnaping. Russo denied having
had anything to do with the abduction
or murder of Arthur Fried, but told
the police that he had heard of it.

When Danny Gula was confronted
with the confessions of the other two,
he made a complete statement. Gula
admitted that he had been involved in
both kidnapings, but swore that the ab-
ductions of both Harold Reece and
Arthur Fried had been masterminded
by Steve Sacoda, who was behind bars.

“Sacoda and I kidnaped Fried,” Gula
stated. “On the fourth of December,
around midnight, we snatched a guy I
had never seen before out of a car in
White Plains. Sacoda knew who he was.
He said that this Fried had plenty of
money. We borrowed my father’s car
and we followed Fried’s Packard. We
forced him off the road and covered
him with guns. We got him into our
car and tied him up. Sacoda drove my

father’s car and I drove Fried’s Packard
up Mamaroneck Road and abandoned
it in front of a tavern. Then we took
Fried to Sacoda’s apartment.

“We held Fried there for a couple
of days and tried to get two-hundred
grand out of his brother. It didn’t work
out, so we settled for twenty-five G’s.
Then we saw the paper and found out
that the FBI was in on the case. We got
scared. We knew that we would have to
kill Fried. He knew too much about
us by then.

“The night that the story hit the
streets we killed him. Steve turned the
radio up good and loud. He blindfolded
Fried telling him that we were moyvy-
ing to a new hideout. Then he let
him have it in the back of the head
with a .38.

“Sacoda had a smart idea. He used
to be a janitor at the Ukranian Hall
and my old man is the manager. I
called up and found out that no one
was around. Steve still had a set of keys
and he knew all about how the furnace
works. I called up my old man and
found out that he had gone away. It
seemed safe. My father wasn’t likely to
come around and surprise us. We took
Fried’s body there and put it in the
furnace. Sacoda got the fire lit and kept
the drafts open. We hung around for
about three hours. It got uncomfortably
hot there. Finally Steve shook down the
fire and put a lot more coals on. Then
we left.”

Steve Sacoda was brought to the
Federal Building from Sing Sing. He
was smart enough, however, to realize
that without Arthur Fried’s body the
FBI would have a tough time proving
that a murder had been committed. All
the federal investigators had to go on
was the uncorroborated confession of
a petty hoodlum, Danny Gula.

Sacoda readily admitted his part in
the Reece kidnaping but vehemently
denied knowing anything about the
Fried murder. He had never even heard
of Arthur Fried, he told Vetterli.
“You’ve got nothing on me in that
case,” he insisted.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Vetterli
said.

“What do you mean?” Sacoda de-
manded.

“We've got you on the Reece kid-

DETECTIVE CASES

naping, and you'll burn for that one.
We don’t have to convict you of Arthur
Fried’s murder.”

Sacoda knew he was trapped and in
a desperate bid for leniency, offered
to turn state’s evidence. He confessed
to his part in the kidnaping and murder
of Arthur Fried, although the FBI
made no guarantees of leniency. Sacoda
tried to shift the blame for - Fried’s
murder to Danny Gula. He said that
his former pal had done the actual
shooting. But as Vetterli had said be-
fore, it didn’t matter.

Demetrius Danny Gula and Steve
Sacoda came to trial for the first-degree
murder of Arthur Fried on January
27th, 1939. The jury found them both
guilty as charged and sentenced them

to death in the electric chair. In a
Separate trial Pete Rizzo and James
Russo were found guilty of kidnaping
Harold Reece and each was sentenced
to serve from 20 years to life in prison.

On January 12th, 1940, Danny Gula
and Steve Sacoda were electrocuted in
New York's Sing Sing Prison, thus Pay-
ing the price for committing the two
most vile crimes against society—kid-
naping and murder. Were it not for the
perseverence and thoroughness of the
Federal Bureau of Investigation the
two heinous crimes might have gone
unsolved.

Editor's. Note: The names Harold
Reece, Pete Rizzo and James Russo are
fictitious. .

ROMEO IN THE “GUEST” ROOM

(Continued from page 47)

affidavit avowing fear of bodily ‘harm
or death at the hands of his client, Mrs.
Walburga Oesterreich The affidavit
was startling and revealed for. the first
time, the existence of the “Bat-man,”
which cast the case into the realm of
the unbelievable.

thoes singular, astonishingly bizarre
character played an important role
in the affairs of Walburga Oesterreich
from an early date. He came into the
picture in 1903, when Fred and Wal-
burga were still in Milwaukee.

There Fred Oesterreich at the age
of 40. had built a successful apron
manufacturing business. He ran a fac-
tory of several hundred workers, each
and every one of whom loathed the
sight of the fat arrogant boss. Walburga
acted as a sort of super-forelady and
ego-patcher.

One day, one of the numerous sew-
ing machines in the plant ceased to
function and a repair man from the
Singer Sewing Machine company was
sent for. Into the lives of Fred and
Walburga walked an improbable little
man named Otto Sanhuber. He looked
at a world that was much too formid-
able for him through watery blue eyes
and thick glasses. He stood just under
five feet tall and his receding chin and
wizened appearance stamped him as a
middle-aged man though he was only
17. From the first moment they laid
eyes on each other, there was a mag-
netism between Otto and Walburga
that was to withstand the test of more
than twenty years. Walburga was in-
santly smitten. In short order she had
the little repair man in a back room
mending her sick sex drive instead of
the sewing machine. For Otto’s part,
the older woman was probably the first
female who ever regarded him with
anything but contempt.

Walburga, of course wasn’t satis-
DETECTIVE CASES

fied with just that one afternoon of
fun and before long the sewing ma-
chines at the factory began to break
down with startling regularity. There
came a time when that stalwart ma-
chine in the Oesterreichs’ own home
ceased to operate, or so Walburga told
Fred.

“Get that litle guy over here who
fixes our machines at the factory,” Fred
naively suggested.

And so Otto Sanhuber found his
way into the Oesterreich home. In
the course of the next few months Wal-
burga’s sewing machine showed a re-
markable affinity for malfunction. Mr.
Oesterreich might have thought that
the shriveled little Otto was a pretty
poor repair man, but he never suspected
that his wife and he were carrying on
an affair. In time things reached the
point where Walburga found that she
could not be away from her little Otto.
He was a constant visitor at the house
and was always tagging along, to Fred’s
utter consternation, wherever the
husband and wife went.

The illicit lovers met in parks and
went for long walks in the country.
They were seen together everywhere,
and soon Fred could not help but no-
tice that people stopped talking and
stared at him whenever he approached.
Now Fred Oesterreich was the sort
who thought so much of himself that to
him, it was inconceivable that his wife
could find anyone as charming. But
soon the evidence was such that even
dense Fred had to admit that little
Otto had stolen Walburga’s affections.

Raging like a wounded buffalo, Fred
confronted his wife one night and de-
manded that the repair man be ban-
ished from the house and Walburga
never lay eyes on him again. In re-
prisal, the wife took her lover off to
Chicago for a spree. The astute Wal-
burga soon noticed that wherever she
and Otto went in the Windy City there
seemed to be someone following. Off
the pair went to Detroit. But still the
nagging feeling of being followed per-
sisted. Walburga correctly guessed that
her husband had hired ‘a private de-

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Official F.B.1. photos reveal furnace where young Fried was cremated.

ting up the method of paying the ran-
som and there would be another chance
to nab them when it came time to
collect. Hugo Fried set off in his car
over the prearranged route.

At the bar he waited impatiently for
the call. When the phone in the public
booth rang the brother jumped to his
feet and answered it. He was told to
go into the men’s room where he would
find an envelope on top of the paper
towel dispenser. He was to take it out
to the bar, read the contents and then
go out to the sidewalk and burn the
letter and envelope.

Hugo went into the lavatory and

26

found the envelope. At the bar he tore
it open ,and found two notes inside.
They had obviously been written by his
brother. One of them read: “My dear

wife and family—I am being held for

$200,000 ransom. Please pay them
what they ask. The money is to be in
denominations no larger than $100.
I am praying that you will do your
utmost to help me out of this situation.
You all know I would do the same for
each and every one of you. I thank
you all from the bottom of my heart.
Give my love to my wife and boy.”
The note bore Arthur Fried’s signa-
ture. A second letter from the missing

man, begging his brother to obey in-
structions, was enclosed. Hugo looked
around and then slipped the two notes
into his pocket. The brother then went
out to the sidewalk and burned the
envelope. Anybody watching would not
have suspected that Hugo was not
carrying out orders. :

Both letters were written on cheap
ordinary paper. They were copied and
then handed over to Chief Miller. The
chief in turn contacted the FBI agent
in charge of the New York field office,
Reed Vetterli, and handed the letters
over to him for analysis in the federal
agency’s Washington laboratory.

Agent Vetterli wired J. Edgar

Hoover. The “Lindbergh Law,” which

made kidnaping a crime punishable by .

death, was in effect. However, since it
had not been established that Arthur
Fried had been carried across state
lines, the FBI’s jurisdiction in the case
was doubtful. Nevertheless, Hoover put
his agents to. work.

The paper was analyzed in Washing-
ton and traced as having been manu-
factured by a plant in Huntingdon,

Pennsylvania. Several agents were put |

to work tracing the paper company’s
outlets in New York City.

Agent Vetterli went to White Plains
and met with Hugo Fried. The FBI man
learned that the kidnapers had been
in touch with the brother again. Hugo
had protested to the abductors over the
phone that he was not able to get his
hands on $200,000. Hugo was told
that his brother was still in good health.

“They told me that they would call
again at three this afternoon and let
me know if they would lower their
demands,” the brother told Vetterli.

HE FBI soon came up with a lead.

In running a routine canvass of
neighbors and potential witnesses in
the vicinity of the tavern they had
come up with a youth who thought he
had seen the crime take place. The
young man, a high schooj student, said
that he had been driving along the
road that Arthur Fried had taken on
his way home, at about midnight on
the night Fried disappeared.

The student had seen a Packard
coupe being followed so closely by an-
other car that he thought it was being
pushed. All of a sudden the other car
had zoomed ahead and cut the Packard
off, forcing it to the side of the road.

“Two guys jumped out and ran
around the Packard,” the young man
related. “I thought they were mechanics.
But as I drove away the thing seemed
odd, so I circled around the block and
came back. When I came back around
I saw both cars driving off again. They
seemed to be in an awful hurry.”

“Did you get the license number of
either car?” an agent asked.

“Well, it was dark,” the student said, ~

init act dB ys

vets i

py Doc iis io ONO

vent ani

Fried, driving from house, was followed by a mysterious car. Forced off the road, he was soon in hands of killers.

“and I can’t be sure, but I think that
the Packard’s was BM followed by a
pretty. short series of numbers. The
second car’s plates began with 7N. It
was either a Buick or an Olds; one of
the two.”
“What time did you say this took
place?”

“About midnight.”

“Can you be more accurate?”

“It was close to eleven-forty-five.”

Agent Vetterli had Hugo’s phone
tapped and waited with the anxious
brother for the kidnaper’s next call. It’
came on time, at three that afternoon.
Hugo again told the voice on.the phone
that he could not raise $200,000. The
contact man got tough and made
threats. But by cajoling and pleading,
Hugo convinced the caller that $25,-
000 was the absolute limit. Finally the
caller said that he would talk it over
with the others involved and let the
brother know their decision the follow-
ing day.

In the next two days their were six

more calls from the contact man. All
of these were traced to downtown pub-
lic phone booths and by the time in-
vestigators got to them, the kidnaper
had long since vanished. Finally, the
$25,000 ransom was agreed upon and
the contact man was to call once more
to make the final arrangements. It didn’t
work out quite the way Hugo Fried
was planning it.

Somehow, despite all attempts to
maintain secrecy, word of the kidnap-
ing reached the newspapers. The news
leaked out that the FBI had been called
in. The kidnapers got scared and never
again contacted Arthur Fried’s family.
The missing man was never heard from
again.

Weeks went by while Vetterli and
his men continued to hunt for Arthur
Fried. Finally the FBI was forced to
conclude that the missing man had been
murdered. From the moment that the
newspapers had hit the streets, there
hadn’t been another call from the kid-
napers. Vetterli knew from long ex-

perience that Arthur Fried alive was
too dangerous for the abductors, since
he had seen them and could almost
certainly identify them.

The few clues that had been turned
up were rapidly run down. The note
paper lead petered out when it was
learned that the paper had been dis- ,
tributed to thousands of five-and-dime \
stores in the New York area. The °
license plate lead supplied by the high ‘
schoo] student looked: more promising. *

From the motor vehicle bureau it #
was learned that 12,000 New York }
plates began with 7N. Of these, 4,000 =
were. assigned to Buicks and Oldsmo- °
biles. The FBI began the arduous task
of checking on the owners of each and
every one of those 4,000 plates.

In July, seven months after Arthur |
Fried disappeared, the federal agents
were still working along this line. Then
Agent Vetterli received the tip which
changed the course of the investigation.
The kidnaping of a young Brooklyn

(Continued on page 52) a7:


elen, left, and Margaret went
‘om home to meet their daddy
id then dropped from sight

Officials combed this creek and surrounding
area in a vain search for clews after they
had taken a crushed little body from the water

Why Should Events Near Stamford,
Conn., Before These Little Sisters
Vanished Make Bedford, N. Y., Police
Believe the Girls Were Dead?

ly just wandered oft and got

they’ve never done this be-
Lynch said desperately. “I’m
that they’ve been kidnaped,

2tt’s eyes softened with sym-
He patted Lynch on the shoul-
Don't worry, Man,” he. said
. “We'll find your little girls for

‘tt immediately sounded the
and in a few moments the
for Helen and Margaret Lynch
der way. Police and villagers
> wooded fastness of the town,
ishlights and lanterns bobbing
1 the darkness.

‘e hours crawled by with no
Mallett became convinced that
dren had not wandered off of
m free will.

‘olice Chief’s muscles tensed as
na call to the State police of
, Hawthorne, New York.

lort time, he was closeted with
lice Inspector Harold Nugent,
2s James Hodgett and Jerry
mer, and Bedford Police Com-
r Major R. T. Moniz,

elating the story to the police
Mallett said, “We’ve made a

thorough search. I’m convinced that
they aren’t just lost.”

Moniz’ voice was husky as he said,
Pde hd got to find them before it’s too
ate!”

Nugent agreed. “We'll flash a warn-
ing and description of the children to
police in other states, They may have
been taken over the line.”

The alarm was clicked out and
radioed to State police barracks within
a radius of 100 miles,

On the off chance that they had
eluded those searching for them, State
and village police, aided by a swarm
of villagers, continued the hunt. Night
faded, and still the search went on
without any decrease in tempo. A new
day dawned. Still no trace—

Meanwhile, at State police barracks
in Westport, Connecticut, Lieutenant
John Hanusovsky contemplated the
report on the disappearance of the two
little Lynch girls.

The personal guard to Governor
Raymond Baldwin of Connecticut,
Hanusovsky is gifted with a keen
police brain. A cop’s cop, he is admit-
tedly expert at piecing together the
multiple pieces of a jumbled-up pat-
tern. That’s what he was doing now,
the morning of September 15.

Lieutenant Hanusovsky: He shrewd-
ly saw a connection between a series
of crimes in Connecticut and the
baffling New York disappearances

Reading how Margaret and Helen
Lynch had dropped from sight, Hanu-
sovsky, like Mallett, inStantly knew
that something sinister had happened.
Someone had enticed them away from
their home, Hanusovsky was sure of it.

But who?

So far police had no clew of any
kind. But as Hanusovsky turned the
matter over in his mind he recalled a
series of incidents that had occurred
in Connecticut. The first report came
from Cornell Harra, a New York busi-
nessman who reported that his station-
wagon had been stolen from his home
on Schofield Avenue, Stamford, very
early in the morning of September 14,

Trooper Robert Waltz: A coun-
terman’s conversation made him
lose interest in the sandwich he
had been eating with gusto

The station-wagon, a 1938 Ford with
brown fenders and the Connecticut
markers ODTH; was taken from the
driveway to his home.

While police searched for the sta-
tion-wagon, a woman reported that she
had been trailed by a young man in
the stolen station-wagon. He forced her
to stop but fled when the woman
threatened to send her dog after him,

ANOTHER complaint had come in,

one similar in tone to that of the
first. This report emanated from Stam-
ford Village and was made by a six-
teen-year-old girl.

According to her story, a man in a
station-wagon—markers ODTH again
—had accosted her, trying to pick her
up.

The girl promptly discouraged him;
and after several more futile attempts,
in which he drove back and forth in


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CRIME DETECTIVE

CHILDREN’S KILLER SENTENCED

White Plains, N. Y.—Edward Haight, the 17-year-old murderer
from Stamford, Conn., will pay with his life for slaughter
rampage in which he first kidnaped, then slew, two children,
Margaret Lynch, 7, and her 8-year-old sister, Mary. In the
above photograph he is shown after being sentenced to chair.

I wasn’t looking for that kind of
trouble. Civilian clothes would
serve me just as well. Holding de-
fense firms up for advertising space
at highway-robber rates was like
taking candy from a child. I let it
be understood that unappreciative
contractors: might have trouble land-
ing new orders, or at very least, that
they ought to be grateful enough for
their boom to help the boys in the
service.

The woods were full of such pub-
lications. However, I knew enough
to drop out of the picture when, in
anticipation of ant Day on October
27, 1942, the Navy Department issued
the following warning: ;

“The Navy League is desirous of
abolishing all such solicitations (spe-
cial editions and programs planned
in commemoration of the holiday)

and the Navy Department is in thor-
ough accord. Navy Day is primarily
a Navy League sponsorship to which
the Na gladly responds in recog-
nition of the intelligent purposes of
the patriotic society in: recent years.

“However, various volunteer en-
terprises in support of Navy Day have
been started, most of which involve
publications or other projects depend-
ing upon public subscription. Neither
the Navy nor the Navy League sup-
ports or authorizes these enterprises
this Navy Day—BUY WAR BONDS.”

But my nemesis proved neither the
Navy, the National Better Business
Bureau nor yet the police. It was
Miriam Cahill. She turned me in and
became State’s witness.

“T had to do it, Tommy!” she sobbed
in the district attorney’s office. “You
were no longer a human being. You

were
do it

Tw
wher
that
doub

Bu
Miriz
she \
my a
worl
A 4-
the /
The
wher

If
confe
agalr
will


front of her, he pave up. Stepping on
the gas, he had driven off toward
Stamford

Hanticovdey drummed his blunt
fingers on the desk. On the heels of
these complaints eame the report of the
Cina ppearanee of the Lyneh sisters, AL
these things seemed to add up to some-
thing tangible,

True, this wasn't much to xo on. Bul,
Hanusovsky reasoned, this marauder
misht have stolen the slation-wapon,
tried unsuccessfully to pick up some
girls, and then had chanced on the
helpless Lynch sisters at play,

only in the darkness and may have
slipped up on a number of details.
SO HE wart nomething:

Hanusovsky decided
works.

CTs dlinnge ath debe Hreneprenes dnetes center
ence, Hianusovsky told them what they
were up against. They included Robert
Walty, Chin hangin, devon
Smith, Richard Carroll, Frank Bennett,
Fred Verelli, Tom Abbot and Georpe
Mitchell,

“Men,” Hanusovsky — said grimly,
“we've fota job to do. T think this fel-
low who has been roaming around. in

lo shoot the

looked hot, but they did not abandon
the search They could tet They had
foo be prepared for every continpeney

Patrick Lynch almost was prostrated
with oprief, and tis Vitthe lovipeliten,
Adie, notiglit watiby ter center t Taisen

In Connecticut, State police were
picking up even the most remote sus-
peels Taleen to Westport barrie Kea, all
these men who vaguely answered the
description of the mysterious maraueder
were grilled as to their whereabouts
on the previous night.

All furnished) iron elad abibis, and
reluctantly were released,

story of what had happened.

“Seemed faniy foie became? he
never owned a cear, the eounternmnuan
went on, “An? that station-wagton cost
clot, Gb ctiedl | Monsey Dilee dre Pheer
tract

“Yes?” said Waltz tensely. “Then
what?”

“Well said the counterman, “he
started to brag like erazy about giving
the Bedford cops a terrifie chase last
night. Said he gave them the slip after
a wild ride.”

Redford Villapetl ast naphtt
and Allyn exchanged glances.

Waltz

ALVA was asking the counterman
ra description of Haight when
Trooper Charles Flanagan entered.

He said hello glumly and ordered
coffee.

Waltz said excitedly, “C'’mere, Char-
ley.”

The red-headed Flanagan, veteran of
many a murder case although young

The bloodstains on the car door, indicated by Chief Frank Mallett. proved to be a valuable clew

They, young and innocent, might
have fallen easy prey to his blandish-
ments.

As Hanusovsky pondered this possi-
bility, his eyes grew bleak, his rugged
features tightened. If his theory was
correct—and he was almost certain
that it was—the police were up against
a merciless type of criminal.

Hanusovsky had a description of the
marauder, pieced together from infor-
mation obtained from the women ac-
costed.

According to reports, he was a tall,
handsome, well-built fellow, about six
feet tall, about 25 years of age, dark
complexioned, with dark hair, and
wearing a chauffeur’s cap, a blue shirt
without a tie or coat and dark trousers.

Hanusovsky was aware that this de-
scription might not be accurate. For
the prospective victims had seen him

12

that hot station-wagon may be the bird
who made off with the Lynch kids in
Bedford.”

He paused, then, “If he’s the one,
you know what we’re up against.”

The, tense faces of his men told
Hanusovsky that they did know—only
too well. 7

“You have his description,” Hanu-
sovsky said. “Go get him!”

FTER the determined troopers

dashed out to their prowl cars and
commenced their search of the Con-
necticut countryside, Hanusovsky drove
over to Bedford Village. The search
there still was going on, intensified in
numbers and diligence.

Hanusovsky told police there of his
theory that the stolen station-wagon
might be the clew they were looking
for: New York police agreed that it

,

Trooper Robert Waltz, a rookie cop,
but alert and intelligent, had been
beating the vicinity around Stamford
in company with Radio Dispatcher
Byron Allyn.

Tired and disgusted, the two cops
pulled into the Lakeside Diner at the
entrance of Long Ridge Road, off the
Merritt Parkway in Stamford,

This was about 3 in the afternoon of
September 15—almost 24 hours from
the time the Lynch sisters had first
been reported missing.

Waltz and Allyn were eating a sand-
wich when the counterman said cas-
ually, “You know that young Haight
kid came into our place for a bite last
night. Drove up in a snappy station-
wagon, he did.”

Waltz stopped chewing and stared at
the counterman for a moment, then
encouraged him to continue with his

Trooper Charles Flanagan:
fet a variance in descriptions keep him
from the hot trail of a prime suspect

He didn’t

in years, joined Waltz and Allyn.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Waltz said, “A guy by the name of
Haight was in here last night with a
station-wagon. Said he had given the
Bedford cops the slip in it.”

“What!” Flanagan shouted.

The counterman nodded. “That’s a
fact,” he said. “An’ I know he never
owned one. Never had money enough
for even a jalopy.”

At the troopers’ urging, he gave
them a description of Haight.

No, he didn’t know his first name,
but he was about seventeen, he said.
He was short, sturdy, with dark, wavy
hair. He wore wire-rimmed glasses.

The troopers looked at each other in
near-despair. This description certainly
did not tally with the one given the
marauder by the women accosted. That
man had been tall and well-built. Be-
sides, he was older, and had not worn
glasses,

Still, the troopers weren't going to
pass up this lead, as indefinite as jt
was. This Haight was in a station-
wagon, and he had said he had been
over in Bedford the night the Lynch
girls disappeared. Vanity might have
prompted him to remove his glasses
while trying to make a few pick-ups.

AD—7

a

*

Paine nse

Officer Charence
rq oon

which. a witness described for officers

Patrick Lynch waited hopefully for word that his two missing daugh-

ters, sisters of Anne, who is shown here with her

4» POT unti! an hour after he re-
N turned from work did Patrick
: Lynch suspect that some terrible
‘ishap had befallen his two
aughters, Helen and Margaret.
The clock was striking 6 that eve-
ing—Monday, September 14, 1942—
hen Lynch, an honest, hard-work-
ig brush salesman, entered his mod-
st home in Bedford Village, New
ork.

That rural community is dead quiet
hen compared, as it often is, to
isting New York, 40 miles to the
uth, and to Stamford, Connecticut,
me fifteen miles southeast.

Tired from his long day, the stocky,
-year-old salesman keenly appreci-

little

ra
‘}

father, were safe

ated the quiet and relative coolness of
the village high in the hills.

Once Lynch's family had numbered
four, but Mrs. Lynch was critically ill
in a hospital, where she had been a
patient for six long years. Lynch for
those years had been father, mother
and housekeeper to his three daugh-
ters, Anne, nine, Margaret, seven, and
Helen, eight.

On this evening, Lynch's heart
swelled with pride as his thoughts
dwelt on his daughters. They were his
life, and he was anticipating the warm
greeting he would receive when he
came in.

But he was disappointed. Only Anne.
the eldest, was home to welcome him.

Hurrell ports. te the on

the door of this stolen vehicle

By Joseph DeBona
Special Investigator for
ACTUAL DETECTIVE STORI ES

“Where are Helen and
Lynch inquired anxiously,

“They went up the read, Dyadic
Anne explained in her childish treble.
“They said they was going to meet you
on the way back.”

His anxiety allayed to a degree by
this explanation, Lynch kissed his Tit
tle daughter, then set to work on his
household chores,

Margaret?”

Bur he was uneasy, By 7 o'clock his
worry caused him to stop

Margaret and Helen had been
brought up carefully: they never had
remained out this late before,

Besides, Lynch had heard stories of
the horrible fate that had befatlen line
tle girls who wandered about alone—
stories that congealed the blood in the
father’s veins as he thought of them
now.

Then his fears gained control and he
ventured forth to look for them.

Up and down the hilly reads
tramped Patrick Lynch. searching for
his missing daughters. As the twilight
shadows deepened into dusk, the dis-
traught father roamed the countryside,
Dark blended with the night, and the
wind begin to rise.

Pani ricken, Lynch
rounds of neighboring

made
homes an

the
the

slim chance that the two little girls
had dropped in for a visit.
Everywhere, Lyneh drew a blank.
The neighbors were kindly and sympa-
thetic, but they couldn't help. No one
had seen Helen and Margaret Lynch,
Desperate now, Lynch sought official
nid. Going down to Bedford Village
Police Headauvarters, he found Chief

iirls

Hive! My daughters—Helen

ond Margaret- they're gone!”

Chief Mallett Jooked keenly at
Lynch. He perceived that the father
was upset, almost incoherent with
worry and stark, wing fear,

“There, there.’ Mallett. said kindly,

“it can't be as bad as all that. Sit down
and tell me about it.”

Soothed somewhat by Mallett's quiet
manner, Lynch slumped into a chair.
The words stuttered from his lips as
he told his tragic tale.

Mallett listened intently, and as the
grieving father went on with the story
his own fears mounted, And Mallett’s
fears were based on cold and hard
facts of police experience,

However, when he spoke to Lynch,
his words were re: ssuring. “I don’t

think there's anything to worry
about, Pat.” he said. “The children
AD—1

Moron Dementve Stories oF lWouea MW Chime

Mad, 1FF2

on a ten-
employed
list of un-

earances—

activities
tep of the
ire center-

‘ld in cus-
with mur-
with kid-
the others
is pending
e of these,
the Greek
Szywarek,

. jail as a

the father

yers, he
, on East
. City, the
vhose large
1 over the
ed by the
ison (and,

o murder)’

itertaining.
aces, even
ay on the

FRIENDS TELEPHONED——
congratulations ‘to- Ben Farber, top.
who escaped. The man with the
hat is the late Arthur Fried.

horses. But it wasn’t long before
these same friends or their relations
were coming to him and pleading he
act as go-between in recovering
loved ones from the gang’s fateful
clutches.

Joseph Stephens Sacoda, 27, and
Demetrius Gula, 30, slayers of
Arthur Fried, who was kidnapped
a year ago, had gotten into trouble
and realized the need of a clever
criminal mind to direct their activi-
ties.

They wanted more help in han-
dling what they planned to be, an
interstate murder-kidnap ring. They
lined up with Jacknis and his homi-
cide hall friends, John Virga, a

(Continued on page 107)

THESE FOUR——
men were arrested. Top left: —
Joe Sacoda; top right: William
Jacknis: lower left: Dan Gula;
lower right: John Virga.

:

TRUS

The story in words and pictures of an
organized murder and body snatching

ring. It reads like fiction—but it is true!

BY MORGAN COLT

=

TO dash

“@"OU'LL be back with your
family in about an hour.”
Arthur Fried, the White
Plains contractor to whom this
had been addressed, allowed a smile
to spread over his pain and worry
racked face for the first time in
days. Days spent in the chill sub-
terranean. chamber where he was
now facing his captors.

“Yeah, your brother has kicked
through with two hundred grand,”
Fricd’s kidnapper continued. “Just
tur:. around while we untie your
hands-and you'll be on your way out
of ere before you know it.”

Fried turned, still wearily smiling.
A high calibre revolver crashed—
anc the wealthy young kidnap vic-
tim was on his way—a leaden slug
through the back of his head.

A’. few moments later his body
was shoved into a roaring furnace.

Ween Edgar Allan Poe’s vividly
morbid imagination conceived
the gruesome series of crimes that
were to remain a horror classic for
fulure generations, he could hardly
have known that almost a century

66

later his “Murders in the Rue
Morgue” were to be virtually par-
alleled in the activities of a group
of ex-convicts banded together to
form what police and FBI agents
believed to be one of the most
active kidnap and murder trusts to
be uncovered in this country.

It is doubtful if William Jacknis,
the youthful appearing criminal
genius accused of planning the
destinies of the trust, ever heard
of Poe. This Eastern race track
tout, who authorities are holding
for two kidnappings and for investi-
gation into the mysterious disap-
pearances of a dozen heavily in-
sured persons, over a long period,
could, however, have undoubtedly
given the great author many a help-
ful hint. He could certainly have
given points on the fine art of using
the double-cross to lure victims to

. the gang’s New York City homicide

house.

A $200,000 kidnap plot that -dis-
mally failed and ended with the con-
fessed murder and cremation of the
victim—two minor snatches that
netted $13,000—the taking out of a

und 3A0ODA, wha., elec, sing sing (N¥) January 11, 1940

$45,000 insurance policy on a ten-
dollar-a-week dishwasher employed
at execution hall—a long list of un-
solved insurance disappearances—
these are some of the activities
already laid at the doorstep of the
house where authorities are center-
ing their investigations.

Eight men are being held in cus-
tody. Two are charged with mur-
der and kidnapping, two with kid-
napping and extortion; the others
are under heavy bail bonds pending
further investigation. One of these,
a self-styled priest of the Greek
Catholic church, Elias Szywarek,
49, is being detained in jail as a
material witness. With the father
of one of the confessed slayers, he
lived in Ukrainian Hall, on East
6th Street in New York City, the
forbidding old structure whose large
high-domed rooms spread over the
underground chambers used by the
trust’s members to imprison (and,

when deemed necessary, to murder)’

their victims.

Jacknis spent money entertaining.
He took friends to the races, even
loaned them cash to lay on the

Chime DeTectrwe


nea

eet eaiiacialll

wae

mia PRR

LF ES ne OT eT ES

2A ck S4cova

. i these ath isi eta siti 6 ns cae "

Shown here is the furnace in
Ukrainian Hall, on Manhattan's lower East
Side, where the body of Arthur Fried, well-to-do
White Plains, New York, contractor, met an untimely
end. His kidnapers, frightened by what they thought
was a too-close approach by the authorities, ruthlessly
shot him and disposed of his body in this gruesome
stoke-hole.

the “Crossroads of the World”—Broadway and Forty-second
Street.

Arthur Fried, thirty-two, wealthy sand and gravel con-
HE HUGE ELECTRIC SIGN swung out over Main Street tractor, his charming wife, her sister and brother-in-law,
emblazoning the thrilling news that that incomparable Harold Daniels, drove up near the theatre, could find no
couple, Allan Jones and Jeanette MacDonald—they of place to park at the crowded curbs, and cruised around until

the golden voices—were starring in the theatre’s feature— they found a vacant spot in the rear of the near-by Court

“The Firefly.” And, from the long line in-front of the box House.

office window, it was obvious that Hollywood’s famous pair “T think we’d better wait a while before we go in,” sug-

were “packing them in.” gested Fried. “I don’t like the idea of trying to buck that
It was Saturday night, December 4, 1937, in fashionable crowd. Suppose we wait and go to the second show.”

White Plains, Westchester County, New York, a thriving “That’s a good idea,” answered Daniels. “Anyhow, I

little metropolis in its own right, only seventeen miles from could stand a drink or two. What say, girls?”

52


—.

enabled us to trace where he has eaten
just before being murdered.

But in these respects autopsy fails
us now.

So it looks as if we were up against
a stone wall. Scientific evidence has
failed us, not because we’re unwilling
to use it, but because we’ve found
nothing for it to work on with fruitful
results. This often happens and we’re
thrown back on the oldest kind of de-
tective work in the world: straight
legwork, checking, questioning.

After conference with superior offi-
cers we put a force of several hundred
detectives on the case. The trail has
grown a little cold. But we visit
every place of business or recreation
the girl may have frequented, every
person she may have known. Places
where she’d had charge accounts, her
bank, literary agency and publisher’s
house where she may have received

-mail, tradesmen, taxi-drivers, restau-

rants, theatres, and so on endlessly.
Finally the search narrows down.
We find that this solitary soul has had
four intimate men friends. We go into
every detail of their life history,
schooling, character, financial stand-
ing, and all the rest of it. We ques-
tion them, if need be, again and again
about their movements within the
murder period. Should it seem neces-
Sary, we put a “tail” on them day and

we a

ith the co-operation of the au-
thorities we watch their mail, looking
for some significant break. We have
their telephone numbers and keep
tabs on their calls. Their houses are
in some instances kept under observa-
tion. In short we test every theory,
investigate every source of confiden-
tial information (even crank letters

Crime Detective for February, 1939

and telephone calls) leave nothing to
chance.

ND then the break comes. One of

these young men, under repeated
questioning, admits that the writer
had dinner with him in his apartment
on the fatal night. But he denies that
he went home with her to her apart-
ment. Little by little, however, con-
fronting him with “more about me
than I know about myself” (as one
suspect said in a famous case), we
drive in that little wedge after little
wedge of contradiction that breaks
him down and secures the final ad-
mission of guilt.

This questioning may be repeated.
But it is not brutal. It is as informal
and friendly as possible. Facts may
come out in such a casual, sympathetic
hearing which will be denied or not
revealed in a formal tyrannical ques-
tioning. Many ny a absolutely re-
fuse to talk to any but a certain detec-
tive with whom they strike up a
friendship. And the wise commanding
officer shifts his questioners with this
in mind.

To sum up, it’s hard work of every
kind which counts, as I said at the
very first. Search and questioning.
Uncovering the complete backgrounds
of deceased and perpetrator, with all
their friends and associates. Plants and
tailing assignments ‘to keep tabs on
the movements, mail, telephone calls
of the killer’s friends and friends of
deceased. Tracing clothing, headgear,
notes, letters, diaries, address books,
financial and other records—anything
that may provide a lead toward the
murderer. The use finally of what-
ever evidence scientific laboratory
testing will yield.

CRACKING THE

KIDNAP TRUST ©

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 67

former penitentiary pal, pooled his
resources, and things got started.

A few months later twenty Depart-
ment -of Justice agents were sent out
by J. Edgar Hoover.

Norman Miller, son of a well-to-do
Brooklyn business man, had been re-
turned to his parents after a harrow-
ing incarceration in an underground

rison. Thirteen thousand dollars had
been paid. Jacknis was a “friend” of
the Millers!

Benjamin Farber, young New York
business man, dropped from sight. A
few days later he was taken from a
damp grotto; with his eyes taped he
was driven around for an hour and
set at liberty. His brother, an ac-
quaintance of Jacknis, had compro-
mised a $25,000 ransom demand for
$2,000 in cash!

The ‘first arrest came early in No-
vember. Federal operatives, working
in close conjunction with New York
police experts, rounded: up Jacknis,
Gula and Virga. Sacoda in the mean-
time had been returned to Sing Sing
as a parole violator. He was brought
back.

Jacknis, the Jekyll-Hyde friend of
the trust’s potential victims, had
talked. Wasil Kugiw, employed by
Dennis Gula, father of Demetrius
Gula, told Deputy Chief Inspector
John J. O’Connell, New York crime
laboratory expert, he had been in-

sured by the old man for $45,000
shortly after being hired at the
Ukrainian Hall as.a dishwasher. The
elder Gula was immediately appre-
hended and placed under a $50,000
bond.

Today, with indictments already
returned against the four younger
men in two states, the federal and
local experts are continuing their
search. Already the ransom-note
typewriter has been unearthed from
its place of clever concealment in an
alcove off the chill death chamber
beneath homicide house. A French
Spandau machine-gun, piles of cloth-
ing bearing labels from _ cities
throughout the East, were taken from
the basement. G-men are checking
up to determine if this clothing had
ever been worn by any of a score
of missing persons who may have
been the gang’s victims.

While Gula and Sacoda continue
to maintain they first shot Fried, the
White Plains experimental : victim,
then cremated his body in the cellar
furnace, investigators are working on
the theory that the gang had a nearby
chamber where this cadaver, along
with those of other non-paying guests,
was disposed of.

Again United States Department of
Justice agents have run to earth the
perpetrators of a vicious and utterly
ruthless kidnap-killing.

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he White Plains
»e abandoned in
e. A police tow-
‘ory technicians.

all prints, even

of the tavern

him about the

left early that
as, nor had he

re.

nd Police Chief
pearance, they
he report of a | Tremendous legwork and brilliant deduction, based on vague recollections of a blindfolded en led
arded by police Police to building (arrow) where corpse of Arthur Fried (lower 1.) was burned in furnace (bottom )
ght be open to

anxious loved

imstances: the
mily. and their
their accumu-

er, Ferris and
ind, trying to
sappearance in

Oax

His accounts
e Bronx office
iad drawn no
ntly. so it was |
is of his own

vas in sound

canvass of

othing to do
amily circle
k

rasped.
tely asked if

and he was
€ owned in

ig up.
York police, D
5, and they

vi


RES pet

ct roe:

promised to have two detectives waiting when Hugo ar-
rived. Miller and two of his men accompanied Fried.
The phone call came on schedule. The voice instructed

nue he was to turn left and proceed to 6th Street and stop
in front of Kelly’s Bar and Grill.

“Go in and wait for me to phone you,” he was told.
“Tell the bartender your name’s Hudson in case he an-
swers. Ill ask for Mr. Hudson,”

“Let me speak to my brother,” Hugo said.

The line ‘went dead.

White-faced, Hugo repeated the instructions and
pleaded with the police to let him make the trip solo. “We
can’t let anything happen to Arthur,” he said brokenly,
“And if they suspect you're in on it, they may kill him.”

Miller looked at the New York detectives, who nodded
their heads in agreement. “There’s no harm in that,” one
of them said. “Right now they’re just setting things up
for a meeting to arrange about the ransom. When that’s
set up, then we can move.”

At the bar Hugo waited impatiently. Ten minutes
seemed an eternity, and when the phone rang in the booth
he darted in and answered. It was for “Mr. Hudson.”

Hugo listened carefully to his new instructions, and
when he hung up he went, as directed, to the men’s room

a ——— - " is ©

where he found an envelope on top of the paper towel
dispenser. He was to take it out to the bar. open and
read the contents, then 80 out on the sidewalk and burn
the letter.

At the bar he opened it and pulled out the letter. It had
obviously been written by his brother: “Dear sisters and
brothers—I am being held for a ransom of $200,000 which
is to be in no larger denominations than $100 bills. I am

It was signed Arthur, and with it was a second note
which urged him to follow the kidnapers’ instructions to
the letter because “my life depends on what you do.”

Hugo looked around him, then surreptitiously slid the
notes into his pocket. He had to chance keeping them, to
risk disobeying instructions. The letters, written on cheap
foolscap, might provide a clue for the police. Then he
went outside and, as instructed, set fire to the envelope
and let it burn out in his hand. If anyone watched from
the street they would think he had obeyed orders,

Hugo copied the letters and turned the originals over
to Chief Miller. Miller in turn contacted Reed Vetterli.
the agent in charge of the FBI field office in New York

Brains of kidnap gang (I.) had everything worked out in detail, down to
misleading location of pay telephone used in $200,000 ransom demand

oe i - RG SSM SS SEIS EEA TARR
‘ eee eee


and turned the letters over to him for lab testing.

Vetterli got in touch with J. Edgar Hoover, in Washing-
ton, immediately. The “Lindbergh Law” of death to kid-
napers was in full effect, but there was no proof that Fried
had been carried across state lines. Hoover put his agents
to work, notwithstanding. The letters were sent to the lab
in Washington where the paper was traced to the Blair
Paper Co. of Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, and agents were
sent to New York to check on the outlets the company had
in that city.

Vetterli, meanwhile, went to White Plains with a couple
of his men. He met with Hugo and found that another
phone call had been received in which Hugo protested to
the contact man that he couldn’t meet the ransom de-
mand. “They told me Arthur was still alive,’ he told
Vetterli, “and that he’d call me back at three this after-
noon and tell me if they would lower the ransom.”

The FBI agents got off to a quick start. In ‘questioning
neighbors of the Frieds and potential witnesses in the
vicinity of the tavern where the car was found, they
encountered a high-school youth named Ward Brenner
who had been driving along Prospect Road around mid-
night of December 4th, the night of Arthur’s disappear-
ance.

“I saw a Packard—a coupe—being followed so close
by a dark sedan I thought it was being pushed,” Brenner
said. “Then all of a sudden the sedan zoomed ahead,
forcing the Packard over. Two guys jumped out of the
car and started running around the stalled Packard.”
Brenner thought the men were mechanics, but then the
whole thing seemed odd, so he made a circuit of the block
and when he got back on Prospect he saw both cars

Sing Sing inmate (center) denied all despite the
confession of one accomplice (r.) but both found
Lindbergh Law had them slated for electric chair
driving off again. They seemed in a hurry. \
. “The license number?” he said in answer to

the agents’ next question. “I wouldn’t swear to
it, but the Packard was BM something. A short
number. And the other one began with 7N. I
think the sedan was a Buick, maybe an Olds.
But one of those two.”

On requestioning, Brenner set the time of the
incident more accurately at 11:45.

Vetterli stayed with Hugo that day while he
waited for the call, adroitly probing for back-
ground data on Arthur. His random questions
seemed to have no meaning, but he was seeking
a link, however unwitting on Arthur’s part,
with desperate characters. One of his men,
meanwhile, tapped the Fried telephone in an-
ticipation of the kidnapers’ next call. This time
the FBI would be listening in. Hugo was not ap-
prised of this fact, because Vetterli wanted him
to act as naturally as possible.

This time the contact man got tough. When Gladys Rowland ieele
Hugo repeated that the Frieds couldn’t raise about ——— i
the $200,000, he was reminded that his brother’s with a ‘ p yg tony
life was at stake. But, pleading and cajoling, sg el when she
Hugo finally managed to convince the man that home and found the °)
the most he could raise was $25,000. The con- met violent death in

tact said he would talk it over with the boys. In
the next two days a half-dozen calls came in,
all traced to different downtown New York
booths, negotiating price. At last the contact
said they would accept $25,000. He would let
Hugo know later about the scheme to be devised
for making the pay-off.

Then came the pay-off—but it was a different
kind of reckoning, from an unexpected quarter.
A scoop-happy newspaper reporter, anxious to
make a. reputation at anyone’s cost, got wind
of the story. Thus far the family and police had
stated only that Arthur was missing, keeping the FBI’s
participation a secret. But the reporter, posing as an
official of some sort, reviewed every angle of the case
with the anxiety-torn mother, slyly ferreting out the
details of the FBI’s investigation and Hugo’s negotiations
with the kidnapers.

Then his newspaper splashed the story all over its
front pages. The reporter got his big byline, and Arthur
Fried his deadline. From the moment the newspapers hit
the streets, there wasn’t another call from the kidnapers.
They wanted out, now that the FBI was in. The kidnapers
would find, as Vetterli knew from long experience, that
Arthur Fried was too hot to handle and had to be dis-
posed of so that he would never talk, never be able to
give any details about his captors.

Weeks went by, as Vetterli and his men hunted, with no
word from the kidnapers. The FBI was forced to conclude
that Arthur was dead.

But the slimmest clues were being run to the ground.
Agents had exhausted the lead of the notepaper, but were
making headway with the clue of the license plate given
by Ward Brenner, the high-school youth. They found that
12,000 New York plates carried the number 7N, of which
4000 were assigned to Buicks and Oldsmobiles. With typi-
cal FBI thoroughness, agents began the long, hard task of
checking the owners of every single one of those plates!

In July, seven months after the kidnaping, they were
still working on this clue when Reed Vetterli got a tip that
a young man named Forrest Strang, the son of a wealthy
Brooklynite, had been kidnaped and returned unharmed,
after the payment of ransom. (Continued on page 87)


promised to hav:
rived. Miller an:
The phone cal
Hugo to get in !
right on 79th Sti
nue he was to tu
in front of Kelly
“Go in and wu
“Tell the barten
swers. I'll ask fc
“Let me speak
The line went
White-faced,
pleaded with the
can’t let anythir
“And if they sus
Miller looked
their heads in ag
of them said. “'!
for a meeting to
set up, then we «
At the bar |}
seemed an etern
he darted in anc
Hugo listened
when he hung u

There were many secrets in the building but the police search

proved the kidnaping was murder, sent two men to electric chair


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64

ing. He concluded it was a large room
with a lot of people in it.

Lehrer, in the meantime, was kept in
the car. After Miller was taken out, the
driver started the car up again. For a
long time the car rolled, making turn
after turn, stopping for lights, and start-
ing up again. Lehrer lost all sense of
direction.

Early in the morning the car was
stopped and Lehrer was told to get out.

“Don’t take that tape off for five
minutes,” he was ordered. “Then tell
Miller’s father to wait for a phone call.”

The car drove off. Lehrer waited for
a short time, then removed the tape. He
hurried to the Millers and informed his
pal’s father of what had happened.

The elder Miller wasn’t kept waiting
long. The phone rang. He answered it
quickly,

“Hello, Miller, this is one of the boys.
We've got your son, It’s going to cost
you $100,000.”

Miller protested he couldn’t raise that
large a sum. The caller was willing to
bargain if the police and G-men weren't
notified. Miller promised.

The bargaining continued at intervals
all day. By night the kidnapers had re-
duced their demands to $13,000. Miller
agreed to pay. He was told to deposit
the sum neatly tied in a garbage can at
23rd street and First avenue.

Miller followed his instructions to the
letter. He put the bundle with the cash
in the can and walked away. He hadn’t
gotten more than 50 feet when, out of
the corner of his eye, he saw a figure
dart out of the shadows, pick up the
package and disappear. He made no
effort to follow or give an alarm. He
was keeping his word.

The kidnapers kept their word too.
Half an hour later, at 10:30 p. m., young
Miller was told to get out of the car and
to wait five minutes before taking the
tape from his eyes. When he finally did
remove the blindfold, he found himself
at Eighth street and the East river.

The G-men then got Farber to tell his
story,

It was shortly after 9 o’clock the morn-
ing of April 18, 1938. Farber, a coal
merchant, went to the National City Bank
branch at Brighton Beach avenue and
Sixth street, Brooklyn, to make a deposit.
He cashed a check for $100 and started
back to his office. :

Leaving the bank, Farber got back
into his car. He was about to step on
the self-starter when someone said:

“Hey, Benny!”

Farber looked around. Huddled in
the corner of the back seat was a strange -
youth. Between his knees he held a re-
volver.

“Go ahead—drive!” ordered the youth.

Farber obeyed. He drove to Bright-
water court and Coney Island avenue
where another man got into the car. He
saw another car with two men it it near-
by. The newcomer taped Farber’s eyes
and put dark glasses over the tape.

Thinking it a stick-up, Farber said:

“T’ve got $100 in my pocket. You can
have it.”

“This is no stick-up,’ he was told.
“You'll soon find out what it’s all about.”

They drove for some time. He was
led into a building and taken into a cold,
damp room.

“This is a kidnap,” one of the hoodlums
told him. “You're being held for ransom.
You've got friends. Give us the name of
ten of them. We're going to pick two of
them as intermediaries.”

Farber thought for a moment. One of
his best friends was William Jacknis, a
young playground instructor. He named
him and nine others. At the instructions
of the gangsters, he wrote a ransom note.

The kidnapers immediately telephoned
Farber’s brother, Irving. They told him
to go to a Brooklyn bar where he'd find
the ransom note. He found it but when
they phoned him again, he protested he
couldn’t raise $25,000. The negotiations
continued all day until they agreed upon
$1,900.

“Go to the cigar store at Roebling
street and Broadway, in Brooklyn,”
Irving was told. “Turn to page 500 in
the Brooklyn phone directory. You'll
find directions there.”

The note he found directed Irving to
wrap the money in newspaper and to get
in his car and start from the Manhattan
side of the Williamsburgh bridge. He
was to drop the money on the Brooklyn
side, and then go directly home.

At 10 p. m,, the same day as the kid-
naping, Irving followed instructions. He
never had a chance to see what happened
to the bundle he tossed into the street be-
low the bridge. He went home and
waited. An hour later, a phone call came.

“Hello, Farber. This is one of the boys.
We've been playing ball with you. Are
you playing ball with us?”

iY, Ss ”

“What we want to know is, are those
bills marked?”

“They are not,” Irvin
caller.

“Okay. Ben’ll be hom

Before midnight, Farbet was released
unharmed, He found h#fself on the East
river drive, near Eighth street, in Man-
hattan.

With the stories of the two victims to
work on, G-men got busy. Head G-man
J. Edgar Hoover was notified in Wash-
ington and he personally directed much
of the investigation.

Both Farber and young Miller were
asked how long they were driven before
the kidnap car halted. They estimated
roughly the time which had elapsed.

Map Kidnap Routes

assured the

in an hour.”

Toe G-men then went to the place
where the second man got in Farber’s
car and then out at Coney Island where
Miller was snatched. With a fleet of cars
at their disposal, the G-men drove at
ordinary speed for the period of time the
kidnaped men had estimated. The cars
were sent in every direction, out the main
arterial highways in Brooklyn and over
to Manhattan,

The G-men worked with a big map of
New York. As every man driving a car
reported the street intersection he found
himself at when he had driven the elapsed

‘time, a little circle was drawn. Check-

ing radio stations they learned that the
popular song young Miller had heard had
been broadcast shortly after midnight.
That helped in timing the drive.

The importance of the three sounds
which Miller had heard at his hideout
was realized by the G-men. Also the fact
he had been taken over a bridge.

They had to find a large hall with a
poolroom near a church with chimes.
Some place in New York City there was
a building which would answer the de-
scription.

The search went on. District after dis-
trict was eliminated because one of the
three essentials was missing. Finally
they hit upon the Ukrainian Hall in East

Sixth street.
room on the
small rooms
church,
in a car outs!
He nodded
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New York’s Snatch Mob and the Furnace of Doom

[Continued fro

m page 21]

The body undressed, they opened the
door of the furnace and shoved it into the
roaring fire. They searched the clothes
and took Fried’s valuables. Then they
threw the clothes in the furnace. .

The opening of the door sent a gust of
nauseating smell through the cellar room.
Joe looked sick.

Thus did young Arthur Fried come to
a tragic and hideous end.

Meanwhile a group of haggard, worried
men and women had sat around the living
room of the Fried home in White Plains.
They were waiting for the phone call
which had not come. It was Dec. $5,
nine days since the kidnapers of Arthur
Fried had last called.

Suddenly the phone rang. Before the
bell could sound again Hugo had picked
up the receiver. He bellowed a “hello”
into the mouthpiece.

“Hello, Fried. This is one of the boys.”

“What happened to you?” Fried de-
manded. “Why didn’t you let me talk
to Arthur? Is he all right?”

“Oh, sure,” came the answer. “Arthur’s
all right. We couldn’t get him to the

phone. How about the dough?”

Goes To Theatre

UGO tried to keep the caller talking

so the G-men could trace the call.
But the kidnaper was too smart. Telling
Fried to let them know by putting an ad
in one of the papers whenever he had the
money, the man hung up. The call had
come from a public phone booth on the
East Side. The trail ended there.

The phone calls continued. Hugo
bargained with the kidnapers, insisting
that they let him talk to his brother. Al-
ways he met wit vasions. They wanted
to see the monty.

Finally Hugp agreed. How would he
pay it to therp? They said they’d call
him later. Tlf next day the phone call
came with the usual introduction: “Hello,
Fried, this one of the boys.”

He was told to go to a theatre, in
Second avenue at Sixth street, and await
further instructions at a phone booth

there.

Fried complied with the directions.
With him went a squadron of G-men.
Every exit to the theatre was covered.
There wasn’t a loophole left for the kid-
napers to escape if they tried to pick up
any money.

Fried waited by the phone booths. It
wasn’t long before the call came.

“You got the money?” Fried was asked.

“Yes.”

“You got it in a package, sealed tight?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Walk out on exit 25, that is
on the balcony, and then throw the money
into the street.”

“You must think I’m crazy,” retorted
Fried, “that I’m going to throw this
money into the street. Give me credit
for more common sense than that.”

The phone clicked in his ear.

It was the last message received from
the kidnapers. G-men, however, con-
tinued the investigation they had begun
at the time of the disappearance. They
had little to go on. One witness had
seen a man with a gun get into a coupe.
He had noticed a big car behind with the

license number beginning 7-N but he
hadn’t noticed the rest of the license. It
might have been a Buick. There were
10,000 cars with license numbers be-
ginning with “7-N” in New York.

Nine months later a man communi-
cated with the office of the FBI in down-
town New York. He refused to give his
name, That wasn’t important, he said.

“There was a kidnaping in Brooklyn
not long ago. I thought you ought to
know about it,” he explained.

Kidnaping? There was no report of
a kidnaping there, he was told.

The visitor nodded. It hadn’t been re-
ported to police. The victim’s family
wanted to keep it quiet. They were
apparently afraid of what might happen
to them. But other people knew about
it. There was talk. He gave G-men the
name of the victim.

G-men immediately went to Brooklyn.
They interviewed 19-year-old Norman
Miller.

“While you're about it,” young Miller
remarked casually, “you ought to check
up on another kidnaping.”

“What!” ejaculated the G-men. “An-
other kidnaping?”

“Sure. Benjamin Farber was snatched
last April. I wouldn’t be surprised if it
was the same gang that took me.”

The G-men were aghast.

That made three unsolved kidnapings!

Did New York have a “Kidnap Trust?”

It was up to them to find out. They
set about it at once. First they got young
Miller’s story.

It was the night of July 23, 1938. Miller
and a friend, Sidney Lehrer, had gone to
a late movie. They went in Miller’s car,
parking it at Quentin road and Coney
Island avenue, Brooklyn.

When they returned to the car after
the show they got a surprise. Two men
were sitting in the car,

“What’s the big idea?” Miller de-
manded.

“Shut up,” came a snarl from behind
them.

They turned around, A third, man
stood a few feet away, a revolver in his
hand.

“One of you get in back and the other
in front,” he ordered brusquely.

The two men in the car displayed re-
volvers and made the two youths step
lively. Inside the car their eyes were
taped so nothing was visible to them.
They learned, however, from remarks by
the men, that a fourth man was follow-
ing them in another car.

They drove for some time before Miller,
who had nerves of steel, made up his
mind from the sounds around them that
the car was going over a bridge. Far
off he heard a low, deep whistle. Then
to his keen ears came the sound of a radio
playing a familiar song.. The car went
ci more traffic before it came to a
ialt.

Miller was led from the car and into
a building. Remembering stories he’d
read of other kidnapings, he kept his ears
wide open for any sounds, There were
three that he noticed especially during
the time he was in the building. First
was the chiming of church bells. Second,
was a persistent clicking, such as pool
balls make. Third was the sound of feet
scraping when he was led into the build-

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telephoned
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Roebling
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Page 500 in
You'll

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sounds

Sixth street. It had everythigg, a. pool-
room on the first floor, a i hall with’
small rooms upstairs. Next Wor was a
church. Miller was taken there. Seated
in a car outside, he listened to the chimes.
He nodded. They were the ones he re-
membered.

“Say, there’s a couple of other things,”
he told the G-men. ‘Those boys did a
lot of talking while they had me. It was
mostly about horses. Lots of talk about
being out at the track. And another
thing. When they took me away from
here, their car had a funny kind of up-
holstery, a sort of overlap on the front
seat, so I could put my hand down under
it.”

Marveling at young Miller’s steel
nerves which had permitted him to keep
looking for little clues while his life was
in jeopardy, the G-men got busy to check
up on them. Two G-men were sent to
Saratoga, the only track in the New York
area which was then in operation.

The G-men went directly to the park-
ing lot. There they made a systematic
check-up of the cars. They found three
that were definitely suspicious. Two of
them were quickly cleared by checking on
their owners, who were reputable New
Yorkers.

The third was registered in the name
of Gula, on Sixth street, New York.

That was the address of Ukrainian
Hall!

The G-men waited until the races were
over and the owner came to the car. Then
they closedinon him. He was Demetrius

Gula, 30-year-old hoodlum. He had a
criminal record. ,
Arrest First Gangster

HE G-men took Gula to New York

where they questioned him. Investiga-
tion revealed that his car had borne the
license number ‘7-N-900” the year be-
fore. They were convinced that they had
a snatcher of Arthur Fried as well as one
of the heads of “New York’s Kidnap
Trust.”

To prove it, they played the recordings
they had made of the phone conversations
between the kidnapers and Hugo Fried.
Norman Miller and Benjamin Farber
listened. Both identified the voices as
those of the men who had snatched them.

Agents confronted Demetrius, or
Danny Gula with this evidence. He re-
fused to talk for days. Finally he broke
under the questioning. He admitted
taking part in the three kidnapings, but
said the leader was Joe Sacoda. Joe was
then in Sing Sing for violation of parole.

“What had happened to Arthur Fried?”
the questioners demanded.

Gula then told of the shooting of Fried

in the basement of the hall. He described
the grim scene and the nauseating ex-
perience of burning the body, a job which
had not been completed for hours.

Agents were sent to Sing Sing to get
Sacoda, 27-year-old spawn of the lower
East Side. Sacoda tried to deny the kid-
napings, professing complete ignorance
of them all.

Assistant District Attorney Jacob J.
Rosenblum, in charge of the homicide
bureau, Manhattan, aided in the question-
ing. Confronted with Gula’s admissions,
Sacoda broke down.

He and Gula had pulled off the Fried
snatch with the aid of Jerry Russo. That
was the first mention of Russo. G-men
got his address and went after him.

But Russo had vanished. Learning
about Gula’s arrest, he had fled to Italy.

His name was not given out to the news-
papers at the time and even today, few
know that one of the murderers of Arthur
Fried is still at large.

Sacoda and Gula had had the impres-
sion that Hugo Fried had money, Sacoda
told the agents, and they had decided to
snatch him. They were in the pinball
machine business, but they, wanted more
dough. They watched Fried off and on
for months, planning to snatch him. The
opportunity didn’t present itself until that
Dec. 4. Then they got the wrong man.
They kidnaped Arthur Fried by mistake,
thinking he was his brother in the dark-
ness.

bef te hadn’t had any intention of kill-

g him, but they had been careless and
let the blindfold slip off his eyes so he got
a good look at them. That hadn't
mattered until the story had broken in the
papers. Jerry Russo had come in with
the paper that fatal Monday night. They
became panicky, and decided to kill Fried
so there wouldn’t be any evidence against
them.

That failure hadn’t deterred them, how-
ever, from going ahead with the other
snatches. These had gone off all right,
and the victims had kept their mouths
shut, until their neighbors and friends
talked.

The G-men and Assistant District
Attorney Rosenblum continued their
questioning. Who were the others in the
syndicate? Who had helped them on the
Miller and Farber jobs?

Sacoda and Gula named two others.
One was John Virga, 34, and the other
was William Jacknis, Farber’s best
friend!

The investigators ransacked Ukrainian
Hall for evidence in the Fried case. But
the cremation had been complete. There
wasn’t a vestige of a bone or anything
which might serve as a corpus delicti.
That meant it would be hard to convict
them of murder. It was decided to charge
them with kidnaping.

Other crimes were blamed upon the
Kidnap Trust, but only a few stickups
could be definitely tied to them. They
were suspected of having been involved
in several “coffee pot” deaths where the
dead men were insured. G-men wondered
if the Kidnap Trust had engaged in in-
suring poor men and then killing them
with gas, leaving a coffee pot standing
over the open burner on the gas range so
that police would believe the coffee had
boiled over, putting out the flame. But
nothing definite could be proved.

Gula and Sacoda were indicted for kid-
naping for which, under a new New York
statute, the death penalty could be im-
posed. After a long trial before General
Sessions Judge John J. Freschi, con-
ducted by Assistant District Attorney
Rosenblum, the two men were found
guilty.

Judge Freschi condemned them to
death in the electric chair, but execution
was delayed as the result of an appeal.
Assistant District Attorney Rosenblum
was not certain that the new law would
stand up on the appeal. He wanted to
play safe, so he also placed them on trial
with Jacknis and Virga for the kidnaping
of Miller and Farber.

Sacoda, Gula and Jacknis promptly
pleaded guilty. Virga alone stood trial.
He was found guilty and sentenced to 50
years imprisonment for each of the two
kidnapings, the terms to run concurrently.
Jacknis is to be sentenced this fall.

Thus New York’s Kidnap Trust was
broken up.

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1 |

N D
| Fried
snatched |
from a m
ing demai
tablished
Hugo Fri
while the
police anc
of the m
The Rat,
ransom )}
to be set
the Ukrai
room the:

Expect
and listen:
still blind
the cente1
Rat, revo
him...

(Opposite
furnace in
of their v:
where Hug
photograph
it to the s
who was b’
and his b:

_

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

TROE DETECTIVE


Utterly callous to the
sufferings of others,
Joseph Sacoda (right)
was full of self-pity
when he was brought
back from Sing Sing
to face murder charges

learned that the song in question had
been sent out over the ether by Station
WALBGC, the local outlet for the Columbia

Broadcasting System. The music was
played by the band of Tommy Dorsey
while the vocalist was Miss Edith
Wright. The singer had begun the

rendition of the nursery rhyme set to °

swingtime at precisely forty-six minutes
and twenty-five seconds past midnight.

It was. now a simple bit of arithmetic
to compute the total time it had taken
to reach the hideout. Ten minutes plus
fifteen minutes made twenty-five min-
utes.

The following day six Agents drove to
East, 22nd Street and from that point
set out in all directions. Norman Mill-

30

(Right) Norman Mil-
ler, victim of the kid-
nap mob, supplied
several of the clues
that put FBI Agents
on the right trail

er had stated that the kidnapers drove
at a moderate rate of speed, so the
G-men did likewise. At the end of
twenty-five minutes each stopped his
car and noted the street he was on. Then
he reported back to the Field Office,
where his results were marked off on the
map by using a compass with 22nd
Street as the center of the circle.

This further cut down the total area
of the city under suspicion because even
if the mobsters, doubled on their tracks
in order to confuse Miller during that
twenty-five minutes, it didn’t affect the
fact that they couldn’t drive beyond the
confines of the circle in that period of
time. Included in this area was the
entire Borough of Brooklyn as well as

the - lower portion of Manhattan.
_ When Miller was released, he was left

sitting on an ash barrel on Avenue D-

between 11th and 12th Streets. He had
estimated that it had taken twenty
minutes to get there from the hideout.
Again the same test was made. ‘Agents,
starting at this point, drove in each di-
rection for twenty minutes. Using the
point of release as the center and the
points reached by the Agents in their
twenty-minute drive as a radius, a sec-,
ond circle was drawn.

Only that small area in which the
two circles overlapped could possibly
have contained the hideout.

This area, which was now reduced to
the northern tip of Brooklyn and the
lower tip of Manhattan was sub-divided

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES:

eb i aR

into seve
Agents, e:,
map of h:
to the task
On suce:
Stood at s:
toll of chy
the chure!
nated bec::
had clearl
far as
sound, he «
n withir

EEK
covere:
out result.
_onte did th
' six times. F
“room and
gether that
find on furt
church in th
and meeting
warrant fur:
room would
stances the
only to learn
up that it w
By the en
Brooklyn ha:
without res)
owever, sin
away must |
land marked
When No:
_ out of the hic:
to act in a n.
ance of thi-
stepped into +
ers said, “Th,
saw,” contini
until they re:
this remark \
of the mome
~ soned that it
picture house
Spot and had
_ Colored pin.
| Cations of all »

4
Ld

i
i
|
|

Tt was a <

March, 1940


(Above) Farber shows
his employees story
of mob’s capture
e
(Right)Examining evi-
dence in the hideout.
(Below) End of trail
for three of gang, with
men who nabbed them:
(Lett to right) Captain
Mullins, Detective
Swander, Dan Gula, De-
tective Haraden, Assis-
tant District Attorney
Rosenblum, Detective
Dunphy, Jacknis, Detec-
tive Shields and Virga

“Do you know how many times the.
bells rang on the morning of July 24th?”
This was the Sunday morning that Nor-’
man Miller had been held captive.

“No,” the sexton replied. “We keep
no record of that.”

“Could it have been thirty-six?” the
Agent inquired.

“Tt’s. very likely,” the sexton replied,
“though we have no way of knowing.”

HE G-man sensed that he was-reach-

ing the end of the trail and his pulse.
quickened. True, there was nothing
conclusive in what he had learned from
the sexton, but it was a promising lead
none the less. ib:

Outside he consulted his map once
more. The closest meeting hall was on
the north side of 6th Street between
Second and Third Avenues. He re-) |
turned. to Second Avenue and looked.
down 6th Street. It was an unprepos-:
sessing thoroughfare that had gone to.
seed, There were rows of tenement.
houses, factories, abandoned buildings.
and the white-washed front of the meet-
ing hall he sought. It was on the same,
side of the street, one hundred and fifty...
feet away from-the Loew’s Commodore:
The small sign over the entrance .door-
said “Ukrainian Hall, meetings our spe--
cialty, bar .and grill.”_ A sign to the,
right of the entrance advertised_a dance.
in the Ukrainian language. . i ce sana
. Norman Miller had told the FBI that .
he’ heard a. trolley car go by: and- that,
it was to his left as he entered the hide-, -
away. Third. Avenue was to the left,
and.on it were both a trolley car line’
and ‘elevated structure. *¢
The’ motion picture theatre on. the.
corner likewise fitted in. In faet, ‘the’
Ukrainian Hall, but for one exception,.
seemed bound to be the place. That ex-,
ception arose from the fact that the,
Special Agent (Continued on page 120)

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES


fiant work. The major reason can
be summed up in the single sentence:
he is one of the keenest executives in

the nation today. M:
He knows how to handle men and he
has the ability to get the utmost out of
‘f ~ whatever material there is at hand and
y = from this basis map out the lines of ac-
fF, tion his men are to pursue. And the
same inner qualities which enabled him
to build up one of the most successful

2 sa bodies in the world would make
| shis achievement outstanding in any ex-

- ecutive position. Y
‘> Now he set to work on the map. Spe-
|’ cial Agents were already. covering the
» race tracks, checking on the ownership
of Packard club coupés. If they were
successful, this would lead to the iden-
tity of the gang. On the other hand,
the map was to be used in locating the
hideout. ae
Acting under Hoover’s orders, Special
Agents obtained from the Federation of
Churches the name and location of every

‘hus Far:

_937, Arthur Fried,
‘ssman, is snatched
hile ransom terms

“he mob, afraid of =) church in New York City. These were
r victim and_ cre- 4 indicated on the map by flat.white pins
he furnace of the ©§% which were stuck in their exact location.
Manhattan’s lower & Miller had heard the continuous click-
| 18th, 1939, they ' ing of pool balls and this signified that
arber, a Brooklyn | a pool hall was in the same ‘building in

rowly escaping the
“ried, he gains his
of $2,000, and his

which he was held captive or in one
immediately next to it. Since pool halls

J must be licensed, the location of each
ng to police. Three - one is on file in the Department of
iapers snatch young Licenses. Director Hoover,secured the
hold proteome BBF addresses of all of them and they were
eventua se , i ins,
OO Nowe of tha marked on the map with black pins

to the Federal Bu- 3}

n and Agents ques- {

% eye)

0 reach the room in which he was

held captive, Norman Miller had no-

le gives them four 7%* ticed that he had been led down an aisle
blindfolded he had 9%) which had about twenty-five rows of
inapers car WaS & @—S collapsible wooden chairs on either side

ts radio had played

drove, and frotd of it. Since this indicated some form
ey ;

© of a mecting hall, the locations of all

ie had been hegre ‘HP® such places were ascertained and were
bells and rs 6 sli @®™ sown on the map by black headed pins
ugh these four clues | > with a white dot. +2

FBI agents start 00 @@ " Starting with an entire city under sus-
oh this method immediately elimi-

~ nated a large area which did not contain

Coneludes: a meeting hall, church and poolroom in
|. dose proximity. It, however, still left
Four th a space to be investigated larger than

x the city of Boston,

~~ _ Amethod had to be devised whereby
the remaining territory might be reduced
to such an extent that it could be cov-
act by the limited personnel of the

_ EDGAR HOOVER
at his desk in his 4
Department of Jus-
-in Washington, D. C.
large street map of 3
York. Somewhere »
rea Arthur Fried had @
and killed, his body
osed of. Somewhere
abilities were that it]
e, Norman Miller had
until a $13,000 ran-"
| for his release. 3
xperienced sleuth the
ie nursery rhyme song;
balls clicking and the,
irch bell might seem
ey were the best tha’
had and as such would’

Here is where the nursery rhyme song
® played a vital part. Norman had been

| transferred into the kidnapers’ Packard
on East 22nd Street. He did not know
> the time of this occurrence. Ten min-
» utes later he heard the nursery rhyme
song on the radio in the kidnapers’ car.
5 When they arrived at the hideout, one

of the mob mentioned the fact that it
“was one o'clock. ae
"Assigning a pair of Special Agents to
the task of running down'the radio sta-
thon from which this program emanated,

‘ent that made for himy
‘tion he enjoyed. No-
reer is there a “lucky
pulted him to fame. 4
ult of long, solid, bri

‘RUE DETECTIVE MYSTE

Sophie LaMonte. (above) was an important witness in the trial of the
two defendants charged with Arthur Fried’s brutal kidnaping and slaying

ee ee sai ore


\fanhattan.
he was left
Avenue D
is. He had
-en twenty
he hideout.
ile. Agents,
in each di-
Using the
‘er and the
nts in their
dius, a sec-.

which the
dd possibly

y reduced to
jyn and the
= sub-divided

into seventeen districts. Seventeen
Agents, each supplied with an enlarged
map of his own district, were assigned
to the task of running down the hideout.

On successive Sunday mornings they
stood at strategic points listening to the’
toll of church bells. Districts in which
the churches used chimes were elimi-
nated because Miller had stated that he
had clearly heard the sound of a bell.
So far as distance can be judged by
sound, he estimated that the church had
been within two blocks of the hideaway.

WEEK after week Special Agents
covered the various districts with-
out result. It was disheartening. Not
onte’ did they hear a bell strike thirty-

') “six times. Frequently they found a pool-
'} room and a meeting hall so close to-
ong that it aroused suspicions, only to

on further check that there was no
church in the vicinity. Or when a church
and meeting hall were close enough. to
warrant further investigation, the pool-

"room would be missing. In. many in-

stances they foimd all three together
only to learn after an exhaustive check-

vp that it was the wrong group. :
} By the end of September the area in

Brooklyn had been completely canvassed
without result. Mven this was useful,
however, since it meant that the hide-
away must be in that small portion of
land marked out in Manhattan.

When. Norman Miller was being led
out of the hideaway, he had been warned
to act in a natural manner. In further-
ane of this plan the moment they
stepped into the street one of the kidnap-

© ers said, “That was a good picture we
' saw,” continuing this conversation only
} until they reached the waiting car, Since

this remark was made on the inspiration
of the moment, Director Hoover rea-

0 aoned that it was likely that a motion
peture house was within view of this

spot and had suggested the topic.
Colored pins were used to list the lo-
ations of all motion picture theatres.
* * *

It-was a Sunday morning in mid-

October. And a Special Agent stood on
the corner of Second Avenue and 6th
Street. Known as the “Broadway of
the Ghetto,” Second Avenue was in a
holiday mood. Pedestrians in_ their
Sunday best were already crowding the
sidewalks us they promenaded., The
hundreds of restaurants, foreign night
clubs, and_ business establishments of
every shade and variety were open for
the holiday trade. A church bell pealed
out over the street noisily.

The Special Agent pushed back the
sleeve of his jacket, glanced at his wrist-
watch. It was exactly ten o’clock. He
counted as the bell tolled. It passed
twenty and his heart beat faster in an-
ticipation. At twenty-six it stopped. He
wondered what possible meaning that
number had.

Across the street was the Loew’s
Commodore Theatre. From the exit at
the extreme left side of that building
Hugo Fried had been ordered to toss
out the package containing the ransom

(Left below) In this room in
the Ukrainian Hall basement
young Miller was held for ran-
som. (Right) Marie LaMonte
who, with her sister Sophie, was
spirited away from the East
19th Street apartment before
the mob used it as a hideout

ce CELLO TOCA EET,

for the release of his brother, unaware
that Arthur had been treacherously slain
and cremated in the huge furnace at
Ukrainian Hall.

Consulting the enlarged map of the
district which he carried with him, the
Agent obtained the location of — the
church. A goodly number of parishioners
were already walking up the steps and
entering for morning service. The Spe-
cial Agent waited until they were all im-
side, then, making discreet inquiries he
was directed to the sexton. After iden-
tifying himeelf he asked whether the
church bell rang any set number of
times. The sexton told him that it
didn’t. The investigator then asked
whether there was any special signifi-
cance to the twenty-six peals of the bell
that had just sounded. The Sexton said
“No.” In fact, he hadn't known until
the Agent told him that the number of
peals had been twenty-six. The purpose
of the bells was merely to summon the
parishioners to worship.

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playing. Steve told Fried he wax going
to take him to a new hideout and then,
blindfolded him. Then he took out “his
gun--it was a thirty-cight--and with the
radio playing shot him in the head.

“Then I called the Ukranian Hall but
there was no answer and so I knew
nobody was there. We put Fried in the
car and took him to the hall. Steve, who
used to work at the Hall as a janitor,
had duplicate keys and so we got in.
We took Fricd down to the furnace room.
It was cold and a big fire was going. We
shoved him in the furnace head first and
closed the door. We stayed there three
or four hours, then shook down the

furnace and put on more coal and left.”

S FAR as Hoover was concerned this
about washed up the case, except for
the prosecution. And that was some-

thing else again. Sacoda had been cun-

ning. He had completely disposed of .

Fried’s body and had covered his tracks

well. There was no tangible evidence

against him in the Fried case except

Gula’s confession, but in a court of law

Gula’s confession could not be used
against him. The only thing to do was

to obtain a ¢onfession from Sacoda, him-

self.

The sullen mastermind of the kidnap
mob was brought down from Sing Sing
and put on the griddle. He held out
stubbornly for hours. But when he was
finally convinced that conviction was
bound to follow for the Miller snatch,
he made a desperate attempt to save him-
‘self from the chair by talking.

He confessed to. having masterminded
the Fried kidnapping. His story exactly
paralleled the Gula confession save for
two important details. Sacoda claimed
that it had been Gula--not  he,---who
had fired the death shot and that the
shot had been fired in the furnace room
of the Ukranian Hall.

At the trial that followed on January
27th, 4939, this contradiction had little
weight with the jury. Both Sacoda and
Gula were found guilty as charged and
Judge John Freschi sentenced both men
to die in the electric chair. The sentence
was duly carried out.

Jacknis, who pleaded guilty to his part
in the Miller kidnapping, was later sen-
tenced to a term of 20 years to life.

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(CONTINUED FROM PAGE 35)

The superintendent paused to light his
cigar stump. “Now that you mention it,”
he said, “I do remember a guy like that.
Saw,him plenty of times when I was sittin’
our’ on the front stoop nights. Seems
to me he used to come calling on some
girl in this building.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Must have been a year and a _ half
or two years ago.”

Sliney groaned. “Do you know the
name of the girl?”

“Nope. But I saw her with him once
or twice. She was short and dark-haired.

He was a little guy himself.”

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suggested, “is to
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Rare sesh seeps er FS .

“anes nm Ge oR REN CY

This man knew how a furnace works.

*& BY 1 A. M. Mrs. Arthur Fried
was worried. Her husband had called
at 11:40 on the night of December
4th to tell her that he was just leav-
ing his mother’s house in White
Plains, New York, and would be
home shortly. He had only a short
distance to drive. Arthur’s wife was
surprised when midnight came and
still he was not home: She was more
than uneasy an hour later; and at 2
o'clock she was just plain frightened
over her husband’s absence. There
was no way for her to know that she

would never see Arthur alive again.

At two A.M. Mrs. Fried phoned her
mother-in-law. The elder Mrs. Fried
confirmed that her son had left her
home a few minutes after the phone
call at about 11:40 p.M. She had seen
him to the door and had watched him
drive off in his Packard coupe.

“Come on over here,” the mother-
in-law told the worried wife. “I'll call
Arthur’s brothers and ask them to come
over too. They'll know what to do.”

Four a.M. found the entire wealthy
Fried family gathered in the ornate liv-
ing room of the dowager’s White Plains
home still waiting anxiously for word
from Arthur. The tenseness in the room
was suddenly broken by the shrill
jangling of the phone. All eyes focused
on Arthur’s wife as she lifted the re-
ceiver.

“Arthur . .
she asked.

The family watched the wife’s face
anxiously for signs of what the tidings
were. They saw her face sag and tears
well up in the corners of her eyes as
she listened to someone talk and an-
swered in mumbled monosyllables. They
watched her as she hung up and turned
38

. Arthur, is that you?”

to face them, her face ashen.

“Arthur has been kidnaped,” she said,
and then fainted.

Mrs. Fried was given spirits of am-
monia and when she came to she told
the family that the phone call had been
from the kidnappers. They told her
that Arthur was alive and well and
would remain so if their instructions
were followed to the letter. The kid-
napers would contact them on the fol-
lowing day.

RIDNAPERS’
HOLIDAY

Arthur Fried's family was worried.

Thoughts of Sing Sing made him “sing”.

Hugo Fried took control of the situ-
ation and immediately called the police.
The White Plains police got busy on
the case and within the next hour lo-
cated the missing man’s Packard coupe
abandoned in front of a tavern on Mam-
aroneck Avenue. It was towed to the
police lab and thoroughly examined.
The technicians found that all finger-
prints, including those of the owner,
had been wiped clean. The vehicle
yielded no clues whatever.

Later that day, when the tavern opened
for business, its owner was questioned.
That man said that he had noticed the
Packard earlier that morning when he
had closed, but did not know whose it
was or how it came to be there. The
tavern owner reported seeing nothing
unusual the previous night and early
morning.

District Attorney Walter Ferris and
Chief of Police William Miller were
notified of Arthur Fried’s disappear-
ance and they immediately went to
the Fried home to obtain the known
facts. Until the kidnapers phoned
again, they decided, there was little that
could be done except to run a routine
check on the missing man’s background.
It was learned that Arthur Fried had
been engaged in a prosperous business,
whose accounts were in perfect order.
Mr. Fried’s physician reported that the
missing man had been in excellent
health, both physical and mental. A
canvass of hotels and hospitals was
made without locating Fried. The in-
vestigators could turn up no reason why
the husband might have run away on
his own account. There was no reason
to doubt that he had indeed been kid-
naped.

T midnight the kidnapers phoned
again. The family and the police
officers assigned to the case watched
as Mrs. Fried answered it. They asked
DETECTIVE CASES

The police — and the ‘“‘snatchers’” — knew that
without the victim's body the FBI would have a

tough time proving that a murder was committed

to speak to Hugo Fried.

The brother took the phone.

“Did you call the police?” a rough
voice rasped.

“No.”

“O.K.,” the kidnaper said. “Go to
your garage in the Bronx. I'll call you
there.”

Hugo Fried did not have a chance to
say anything else as the caller had
already hung up.

_ Chief Miller did not have jurisdiction
in the Bronx so he phoned New York
City police authorities and apprised
them of the situation. The New York
police promised to have two detectives

Ashes from this furnace were sifted for evidence in New York’s shocking kidnap-murder case.

J

DETECTIVE CASES

APRIL, 196 3 ae

BBD ni — ML 0K.T

waiting to meet Hugo Fried at his
garage. They were there when the kid-
napers phoned with further instructions.

“Get in your car,” the voice com-
manded, “and drive to York Avenue.
Turn right on Seventy-ninth Street in
Manhattan. On Amsterdam Avenue
turn left and proceed to Sixth Street.
Stop in front of Kelly’s Bar and Grill.
Go in and wait for me to phone you.
Tell the bartender that your name is
Mr. Hudson in case he answers. Vl
ask for Mr. Hudson.”

an me speak to my brother,” Hugo
said. ~
A click told the brother that the kid-

by Robert Crandell

naper had hung up.

Hugo repeated the instructions he
had been given to the police officers
and asked that he be allowed to follow
them without interference or help from
the police.
_ “If they find out that the police are
in on this, they'll kill Arthur. Please,
you must let me go alone.”

The detectives agreed, since they
knew that the kidnapers were just set-
ting up the method of paying the ran-
som and there would be another chance
to nab them when it came time to
collect. Hugo Fried set off in his car
over the prearranged route.

At the bar he waited impatiently for
the call. When the phone in the public
booth rang the brother jumped to his
feet and answered it. He was told to
go into the men’s room where he would
find an envelope on top of the paper
towel dispenser. He was to take it out
to the bar, read the contents and then
go out to the sidewalk and burn the
letter and envelope.

°OU6T“TI-T (4tOX MON) YrteT MeN poqnooaqoeste *seqtum *yaOOVS pue VINO

7 ‘
x, man in his snatch and on Murphy as
2s the number 2 man. It was presumed from
on * this that Jacknis had driven the getaway
re car and thus had not been seen by Miller. , /
po” For the next two weeks Hoover's men of the Gear 3
#: worked on the investigation a let-
up. They built up an iron-clad case
A against the Sacoda mob as the snatchers : ~ MIRACLE
E of Miller. But Hoover realized that if SKIN
a he convicted them of this crime, the “ ”»
de Fried case would still be unsolved. Hard-
& UNTIL you've SEEN ened criminals as they were they would Baby Blue ©
, not implicate themselves needlessly in
aut MARRIAGE the Fried affair, and since Fried’s body
had never been found, there was no legal
evidence that murder had been committed
FAISCHIEF . | at all. Cunningly they had covered their
, | tracks exceedingly well and unless they
betrayed each other it would be impossible
to pin the Fried case on them.
Hoover realized that he had to break
the mob down—play one man against the
other—in the hope that one of them
would break under the pressure and sing.
This strategy worked. On the 25th of
on October, 1938, the three men were picked
up and rushed to the Federal Building.
There, in separate rooms, each was put
through the wringer. Jacknis broke first.
‘al Though denying any part in the Fried
. snatch, he admitted that he had guarded
IC Miller’ when the latter was held captaive
in Ukranian Hall.
Armed with this confession Hoover
redoubled the pressure on Gula. And in”
the end he cracked, too. Jacknis’ con-
fession on top of the pile of evidence
the FBI men had amassed against him
‘. was too much to combat. Late on the
night of November Ist, he dictated the
following confession:
Marriage is an event in anyone's life. Whether “Around midnight on the night of De-
you're looking forward to the py or looking back cember 3rd Steve Sacoda and I snatched
"ils celtout prem pul en chy act | man off the streets oF tn
sinht for those who can still profit by it; also Later Sacoda told me he was Arthur ‘
unaaghe ond hindsight: So set your sights for a most Fried. We followed him a couple of SHE SLEEPS!
FULL-PAGE CARTOONS blocks in our car. 1 was driving. It was SIIE CRIES & COOS!
2 MARRIAGE, MISCHIEF. iy brand-new, devilishly | 4 Buick sedan, license number 7N-900. SHE SLTS UP!
indiscreet, with original full-page, cartoons. Gay We both had guns. He was driving a . 7 oa
and tricky as wedding champagne, IC will keep you Packard coupe. - SHE’S ACTUALLY
gaxeing through a season of marriages. And aalking d68 : :
bi aes. here's a whopper! Give MA seme Tey I forced him to the curb and Steve LIFE CUA!
also on your dime ot iatended. etsy eae and I put the pm ee him. I told him be
r a a stick-up and to move over. “Baby Blue Eyes’? is? feet tall.
ves this FEATURES Thnk, i eed io a tavern Where Her rates harony checks, cute
vok be- po What Every Bride 1 Honeymoons—Conven- Aandi io ried to a tavern where Cupid's bow mouth and real eyelash-
She'll Should Know tional and Otherwise we abandoned the coupe and put Fried es that close in sleep over big, beau:
at they 1 Counsel for the i Hazards of the in our Car. y or ae ag geen ghee _
aC 9 ast raeguaiony iba Oa roe a Dinner “Then we taped his eyes and gave him 5 aeret sesame masty Noo. ‘she'll
appeal ireunsadun 4 {= The Wedding Daze a pair of sun glasses to wear. Sacoda veleest ery for you—or she'll coo. :
‘e right L& From Smoker to Bedroom was driving now with Fried between us. = sagan ee ae en =
ee And many more provoking topics f kept my gun on him. We went straight gon page arms or legs. Bend
reveals ORDER ON APPROVAL to an apartment at 240 East 19th Street 3 . sof agpationy tanya A
c black. Order MARRIAGE MISCHIEF in New York which Steve rented for a Eyes go lashes, too. RASS Ant roe) Ee
ie exaen ge bid mae: ONLY couple of his girls. — SIX-PIECE WARDROBE Lace trimmed
oughly satisfied, return for im- We held Fried for four days. The “in * alan ier “penninn ee, wie
-_—_— outer oes ot comanenn mr" ‘] 9 reason we held. him was to collect a , and booties! ;
| . : e 8 ransom. We asked for $200,000. Steve 7 romano pen geo halos and
ve aden wes eee 0 MS | So Qt Garene
for full .
Jas MAIL COUPON TODAY a lot of dickering with Fried’s brother ye
Ce | ; PLAZA BOOK CO, DEPT. A-7111 over the telephone to collect the moncy.
| \ ep tisee St.. New York 4, N.Y. § | His brother owned a garage in the Bronx. | | Niresk, Dept, D-700 1
| Send MARRIAGE MISCHIEF in plain wrap: 4 “Finally we settled for $25,000 but just 1474 W. Hubbard St., ‘Chicago 22, Ill.
ey | | ee A saristied, Lemay return it ia 10 days i before the payoff the story broke in the i Please rush complete 5-Voiced Baby Blue Eyes doll on money- |
heieyt | 8 Of emlose $1.98. You pay postage. i paper saying the FBI was working on the | back guarantee, 1
| : CO Send €.0.D. TH pay $1.98 plus postage. | case. Steve figured Fried was too hot to| | i a ani ee I
| y None be handle after that and decided to kill him | [> Addeess..,...0--cccccesrrr ee
| J Abit ss Rian 1 though PE wanted to fet him go. oy jaan.
ues | fcr oo Guat orAme I “It happened in the bedroom of the | | Send COV plus postage, {| Send heart-shaped gold finton 4
| L. dna & Foreign No LOD Send $2800, x apartment on 19th Street. The radio was 1 (1H anton $3.5 suas achat nechoce—shib repaid


Hugo went into the lavatory and
found the envelope. At the bar he tore
it open and found two notes inside.
They had obviously been written by his
brother. One of them read: “My dear
wife and family—I am being held for
$200,000 ransom. Please pay them
what they ask. The money is to be in
denominations no larger than $100.
I am praying that you will do your
utmost to help me out of this situation.
You all know I would do the same for
each and every one of you. I thank
you all from the bottom of my heart.
Give my love to my wife and boy.”

40

Aided by lab technicians, police dug for clues in Manhattan basement.

The note bore Arthur Fried’s signa-
ture. A second letter from the missing
man, begging his brother to obey in-
structions, was enclosed. Hugo looked
around and then slipped the two notes
into his pocket. The brother then went
out to the sidewalk and burned the
envelope. Anybody watching would not
have suspected that Hugo was not
carrying out orders.

Both letters were written on cheap
ordinary paper. They were copied and
then handed over to Chief Miller. The
chief in turn contacted the FBI agent
in charge of the New York field office,

Reed Vetterli, and handed the letters
over to him for analysis in the federal
agency’s Washington laboratory.
Agent Vetterli wired J. Edgar
Hoover. The “Lindbergh Law,” which
made kidnaping a crime punishable by
death, was in effect. However, since it
had not been established that Arthur
Fried had been carried across state
lines, the FBI's jurisdiction in the case

was doubtful. Nevertheless, Hoover put

his agents to work.

The paper was analyzed in Washing-
ton and traced as having been manu-
factured by a plant in Huntingdon,
Pennsylvania. Several agents were put
to work tracing the paper company’s
outlets in New York City.

Agent Vetterli went to White Plains
and met with Hugo Fried. The FBI man
learned that the kidnapers had been
in touch with the brother again. Hugo
had protested to the abductors over the
phone that he was not able to get his
hands on $200,000. Hugo was told
that his brother was still in good health.

“They told me that they would call
again at three this afternoon and let
me know if they would lower their
demands,” the brother told Vetterli.

HE FBI soon came up with a lead.

In running a routine canvass of
neighbors and potential witnesses in
the vicinity of the tavern they had
come up with a youth who thought he
had seen the crime take place. The
young man, a high school student, said
that he had been driving along the
road that Arthur Fried had taken on
his way home, at about midnight on
the night Fried disappeared,

The student had seen a Packard
coupe being followed so closely by an-
other car that he thought it was being
pushed. All of a sudden the other car
had zoomed ahead and cut the Packard
off, forcing it to the side of the road.

“Two guys jumped out and ran
around the Packard,” the young man
related. “I thought they were mechanics.
But as I drove away the thing seemed
odd, so I circled around the block and
came back. When I came back around
I saw both cars driving off again. They
seemed to be in an awful hurry.”

“Did you get the license number of
either car?” an agent asked.

“Well, it was dark,” the student said,
“and I can’t be sure, but I think that
the Packard’s was BM followed by a
pretty short series of numbers. The
second car’s plates began with 7N. It
was either a Buick or an Olds; one of
the two.”

“What time did you say this took
place?”

“About midnight.”

“Can you be more accurate?”

“It was close to eleven-forty-five.”

Agent Vetterli had Hugo’s phone
tapped and waited with the anxious
brother for the kidnaper’s next call. It
came on time, at three that afternoon.
Hugo again told the voice on the phone
that he could not raise $200,000. The
contact man got tough and made
threats. But by cajoling and pleading,

DETECTIVE CASES

Hugo convinced the caller that $25,-
000 was the absolute limit. Finally the
caller said that he would talk it over
with the others involved and let the
brother know their decision the follow-
ing day.

In the next two days there were six
more calls from the contact man. All
of these were traced to downtown pub-
lic phone booths and by the time in-
vestigators got to them, the kidnaper
had long since vanished. Finally, the
$25,000 ransom was agreed upon and
the contact man was to call once more
to make the final arrangements, It didn’t
work out quite the way Hugo Fried
was planning it.

Somehow, despite all attempts to
maintain secrecy, word of the kidnap-
ing reached the newspapers. The news
leaked out that the FBI had been called
in. The kidnapers got scared and never
again contacted Arthur Fried’s family.
The missing man was never heard from
again.

Weeks went by while Vetterli and
his men continued to hunt for Arthur
Fried. Finally the FBI was forced to
conclude that the missing man had been
murdered. From the moment that the
newspapers had hit the streets, there
hadn’t been another call from the kid-
napers. Vetterli knew from long ex-
perience that Arthur Fried alive was
too dangerous for the abductors, since
he had seen them and could almost
certainly -identify them.

The few clues that had been turned
up were rapidly run down. The note
paper lead petered out when it was
learned that the Paper had been dis-
tributed to thousands of five-and-dime
Stores in the New York area. The
license plate lead supplied by the high
school student holed sare promising.

From the motor vehicle bureau it
was learned that 12,000 New York
plates began with 7N. Of these, 4,000
were assigned to Buicks and Oldsmo-
biles. The FBI began the arduous task
of checking on the owners of each and
every one of those 4,000 plates.

In July, seven months after Arthur
Fried disappeared, the federal agents
were still working along this line. Then
Agent Vetterli received the tip which
changed the course of the investigation.
The kidnaping of a young Brooklyn
man, named Harold Reece, came to the
FBI man’s attention. Vetterli was struck
by the similarity of the Reece kidnap-
ing to that of Arthur Fried. Reece,
the son of wealthy parents, had been
kidnaped and returned unharmed when
the ransom had been paid. The Reeces
had dealt secretly with the kidnapers
without notifying the police.

Vetterli went to Brooklyn and found
that young Reece was quite willing to
talk about his adventure. Reece said
that on the Saturday night of July 23rd
he left a local movie theatre, got into
his car and drove off. He stopped for
a red light and two men leaped on the
running board of his convertible. One
pressed a gun against his head. Another
mian ran up and they all got into the
DETECTIVE CASES :

Detective carries typewriter and gun vital to solution of mystery.

car. When the light turned green the
Strangers told Reece to drive straight
ahead. Through the mirror, the young
man noticed a gray car following.

“At 22nd Street and Avenue O they
told me to stop,” Reece continued. “]
pulled up to the curb. Someone in the
back seat slapped adhesive tape over
my eyes. I was pulled out of my car
into another and we drove off slowly.
After some time we stopped. They led
me into what seemed like the basement
of a building. I remember I had to walk
down five steps from the Street, then
down a flight of twelve steps.

“They led me across the floor. I could
hear pool balls clicking in the room. I
was led across another floor, this one
made of wood. My blindfold slipped a
little and I noticed chairs piled against
the wall, like at a meeting hall or gym.
Then they took me into a small room.
They took off my blindfold and I got a
look at my kidnapers.”

“Can you describe them?” Vetterli
asked, taking out a pencil and pad.

“One of them—he seemed to be the
leader—was about five-feet eight with a
long nose, pale face and small must-
ache,” Reece began. “He was about

41


UH

>»
202 HISTORY OF TILE CITY OF TROY.

to the Astor House, where they were received by General Wool
Irom the Astor House they escorted the General through the
thronged streets, amid the cheers of the assembled citizens, to the
steamboat Hendrick Hudson. On the arrival of the lfendrick
Hudson at Troy, the General and the escort were joined by the
Troy City Artillery, Captain Brintnall. A procession was formed
which escorted General Wool to his residence, No. 75 First sirect:
The following particulars of the public honors bestowed abe
‘I roy’s returned hero, General John E, Wool, are given in the ‘l'ro
Daily Whig of August 24th ; ‘

“On Wednesday, August 23, the streets of Troy began to be
thronged with people, and the morning cars brought the following
military companies : Albany Republican Artillery Capt Fiedon-
dall; Albany Washington Rifles, Capt. Triegler ; New York City
Guard, Capt. McArdle; Syracuse Citizens’ Corps, Capt. Minard«
Utica Citizens’ Corps, Capt. Hart; Saratoga Artillery, Capt Plunk-
ett; Schenectady Artillery, Capt. Springer, ‘These ‘organivatiogs
were received by the Troy Citizens’ Corps, Capt. Pierce and the
T ey City Artillery, Capt. Brintnall.

sineng the Bands were: Kellogg’s Brass Band, of Sracuse ;
Cook’s Brass Band, of Albany; Aricott’s Brass Band of Uitua:
Schenectady Brass Band; U. S. Arsenal Band, West Pray: Uz S.
Band, Governor's Island ; Forrester’s Brass Band, of LonsiAabaveh.

Among the military of rank and distinction were the staf of
General Wool, Adjutant Winship, and Aids Mclean and Totten:
the Governor’s staff, Adjutant Stevens, Col. Van Vechten and Col.
Carman, of Albany; Gen, Storms, of New York, and staff: Major
Bogart, Major Mumford and Morgan; Major Baker and staff ea
the Arsenal; Major Cooper and staff, from Albany; Hon. Millard
Fillmore, and Hon. C. Morgan, of the State Department.

me 11 o'clock, the military and citizens appeared at the residence
of General Wool, where he was addressed by Major General J.J
Vicle, welcoming him home, to which General Wool replied, The
military then passed in review, after which the General took his ap-
pointed place in the line, and the procession passed through the
city streets, as had been previously published. Arriving at th
Court House, the General was received by ° .
dred citizens and the Common Council, with tremendous cheers

fro
‘ = at least 40,000 people. The General was then conducted to
ie stand erected in front of the Court Vance where

a committee of one hun-

he wae oad

&

oH, gregh

ie

ORE ge

z
z
=
Be
$
4
?
=

IIISTORY OF TIIE CITY OF ‘TROY.

dressed by George Gould, Esq., in behalf of the citizens of Troy.
The Honorable Mayor, Francis N. Mann, then in behalf of the’
Common Council of the city of ‘Troy, presented him with a splen-
did and costly sword. ‘The General in turn replied in a speech of
acceptance. The procession was re-formed, and the military organ-
izations escorted the General back to his residence, where they were

” dismissed.

* “The sword presented to General
tured by Ball, ‘Tompkins & Black, New York.
sword, classical in style, and elegant in workmanship. The mount-
ings, hilt and scabbard were of gold, the blade two-edged, broad
and straight, two feet four inches long. The hilt was surmounted
with a Roman helmet, on which were the figures of Hercules and
Mars. On the guard was the following inscription: ‘ Presented by
the Common Council and citizens of ‘Troy, N. Y., to their townsman
Brigadier General John E. Wool, as a token of their personal es-
teem and of their high appreciation of his gallantry and military
ability, as displayed on the bloody ficld of Buena Vista, the 22d
and 23d days of February, 1847.’ The scabbard was richly en-
graved with battle scenes, arms, banners and other suitable devices,
and bore the following impressive inscriptions: ‘ Queenstown, Oct.
12, 1812; Plattsburgh, Sept. 11, 1814; Buena Vista, February 22d
and 23d, 1847.’”

The presentation of a sword by the State Legislature to General
Wool, took place on Saturday, December 3oth, 1848. The Gen-
eral and his staff, on the morning of that day, left Troy, escorted
by the Troy Citizens’ Corps and the Troy City Artillery. Ar-
riving at Albany, they were met by General Cooper and his staff, the
military aids of the Governor, the Albany Republican Artillery, and
the Albany Washington Riles. The procession then proceeded to
the Capitol, where his excellency, Governor Young, in an appropri-
ate address presented the gift of the State. The sword was manu-
factured by Ball, Tompkins & Black, of New York, and cost $1,700
in gold.

On Thursday, March 15th, 1849, two murderers were executed in
the county: jail,—Andress Hall, for the murder of Mrs.
Amy Smith, and Barney O'Donnell, for the murder of An-
tonio Ratto. Hall made a confession, in which he stated that he
had killed Noah Smith, the husband of Amy Smith, and also Frank-

n roevy 2.29

John IE. Wool was manufac-
It was a Roman

1849.


Re SCPE ESSEC GOREN

200 Our Rejected Children

er's trial I covered — the case of the “baby-sitting murder”
where fourteen-year-old Jackie faced a first-degree murder
charge for the confessed slaying of a three-year-old girl for
whose parents he was serving as a baby-sitter. Jackie, like
Heirens, belonged to the “too perfect” type of emotionally
distorted children. Fortunately, he was defended by an able
criminal lawyer — James D. C. Murray, who had taken an
unusual interest in helping children in trouble and who
manifested a remarkable understanding of the dynamics of
child behavior. The case was tried before an enlightened jury
and a socially conscious community. The boy was acquitted

on grounds of emotional instability and sent to the Cedar:

Knolls School for emotionally disturbed children at Haw-
thorne, New York. There, under sound treatment, Jackie at
last reports was making fine progress.

Far different was the story of Edward who, at sixteen, was
the central figure in a sensational “sex murder” case in West-
chester County, New York, where two little girls — sisters —
met horrible death at his hands. Edward came of a family
that had declined from a very respected place in the com-
munity to the level of hillbilly existence. His father spent
several long terms in prison. His mother was bumed to death
in a fire that destroyed the family home when Edward was
thirteen. The three children, including Edward, were
boarded out by local relief officials to a succession of foster
homes, some of them distinctly unfavorable. Edward found
neither stability, security nor parental love in any of these
substitute homes. At fourteen, he had developed such pro-
nounced emotional abnormalities that he was sent to a psy-
chiatric clinic for observation. The psychiatrist who exam-
ined him advised close supervision of the boy by social

Children Who Kill 201

workers over a period of years, but nothing was done to
follow up on this advice. Less than two years later, Edward
perpetrated his gruesome and senseless crime, for which
he died in the electric chair.

Similar case histories might be strung out indefinitely.
They invariably reveal that teen-age murders arise from
twisted minds and emotions that might be straightened out
by prompt and effective application of expert knowledge and
skills. Sometimes the twisted minds and emotions of adults
in the child’s environment (parents, for instance ) need treat-
ment. Sometimes the general environment itself must be
corrected for the salvation of the personality it warps. Some-
times the scars of emotional crippling are permanent and
irremediable. Then it may be best to place the child in an
appropriate institution for his own safety and that of
society. It is not always possible in the state of our present
limited knowledge of personality and society to recognize
and erase the mark of Cain which an evil destiny brands on
some of our children. But it behooves an allegedly advanced
civilization to heed and respond to that anguished cry:

For heaven's sake catch me before I kill.


an axe and Amy by cutting her thypat with a knife. He stole over
$1200 in money and a string of gold beads which Mrs, Snith wore about
her neck, These he sold in New York City HKAXXMHX where they were
Subsequently found and this led to his arrest and his being charged
with the murders, RRLHEXESXKZEXHXARK After he had been convicted
and sentenced to die, he wrote and published a confession in which
he admitted not only the killing of the Smiths, but also that he had
murdered Franklin Brown, a young man, near Hoosick. He provided the
authorities with a diagram Showing where he had buried Brown's re~
mains and his body was atx recoveréd. He also admitted a mumber of
Nahe thefts and robberies, He was hanged at Troy on March 155

427, 428, 429 McDADE 126-127

THE CITY OF TROY AND ITS VICINITY by Arthur James Weise, Published

1886, by Edward Green, Troy. Pagexl2;,
THE TROY TIMES, Troy, New York, March 22, 1867 and August 13, 1887


t a va Bg ne rh ‘ ; ae. % est,
fail, andreas, hanged Troy, NY, on 3-15-1849,

=

HALL, Andreas’. LARGE CARD

"eeeOn Thursday, March 15, 1849, Andreas Hall, for the
murder of Mrs, Amy Smith of Petersburgh yes. ewere hung

2 | in the jail (at Troy, NY )eooet
' Tia CITY OF TROY AND ITS VICINITY by Arthur James Weise
: £68 Page 12) ‘

Published 1886, Edward Green, Troy, NY
"eeeD@fore his death Hall publi
he acknowledged the killing of Mrs, Smith and her husband
Noah at the same time, They were an aged couple living

in a small farm house on the road leading over the Will-
Lamson Mountain east of Petersburgh Village. Mrs. Smiths

throat was cut from ear to ear while her husband's skull
was knocked in with an axe, Hall had formerly

~

worked for the old people, and knew they had a considerab
le sum of money, He was detected by means of a string of
gold beads which he took from Mrs. Smith's neck and sold
in New York, “A dark stain made by Mrs. Smith's blood

is yet to be seen on the floor of the house in which she
was murdered. Hall also confessed that he killed Frank-
lin Brown, a young man, at Hoosick, While in jail he
made adiagram of the spot and indicated where Brown's
bones could be found. A source demonstrated the accurac
of the sketch." TROY TIMES, Aug. 13, 1885, pea?
"native of Petersburgh...2lso confessed burglaries a
robberies innumerable.e.s." TROY TIMES, March 22, 1867

)E ENTRANCE
> THEABRE

taped,

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» demanded

iise such a

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TRANSOM MONEY was]
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ge

HUGO FRIED J
ENTERED THIS (ip
THEATRE w/thif
"amit cemieee, RANSOM ff
}GULA WATCHED | 1
ENTRANCE for 1

6 tree

me ARRIVAL OF
INTERMEDIARY

Ig}

Mrs. Arthur
Fried, wife of the
snatch victim, as
she appeared in
General Sessions
Court, after Sa-
coda and Gula,

Ukrainian Hall and
diagram of the ran-
som negotiation scene.
At right a detective is

shown examining bullet holes

found in the cellar of Ukrainian the kidnap-killers :
Hall, where Arthur Fried's nude body were placed on ‘ )
was cremated by his heartless slayers. trial. re


rte

able to raise was $13,000. Much to his surprise, the “voice”
replied:

“All right. We'll take that. You'll get instructions what
to do with it later, And—don’t call in the police. We'll
kill your son if you do.”

Half an hour later a messenger appeared at the Miller
home, 1506 East Twenty-ninth Street, Brooklyn, with a
note. In this, Miller was directed to place the $13,000, “in
unmarked bills of small denomination”, in a garbage can
on the corner of Twenty-third Street and First Avenue, in
Manhattan.

“When this is done, your son will be released within an
hour,” the kidnapers reassured the anguished father.

Miller followed directions. The money was placed in
the garbage pail, and within half an hour young Miller
called his home and told his parents he was safe.

The family was undecided’ whether to inform the police
of the occurrence, inasmuch as the kidnapers, when releas-
ing young Miller, had cautioned him against taking such
steps.

“If you set them after us, we'll get you again. We'll
kill all your family, too,” they warned him.

Nevertheless, word got around of the kidnaping, and
somebody tipped off Department of Justice agents, as they
had in the earlier ransoming of the well-to-do coal dealer,
Farber.

And Special Agent V. E. Criss, of the Federal Bureau
of Investigation, was assigned to obtain a statement from
young Miller.

It was when the victim informed Criss of the short lapse
of time between the placing of the ransom money in the
garbage pail, and his release, that the G-Men tentatively
located the kidnapers’ hideaway in the area of Ukrainian

Hall.

SS ifaryl goes MILLER Saip that in spite of his being blind-
folded, he sensed that he was being carried across one of
the big bridges which span the East River between Brook-
lyn and Manhattan. He also said he had studied the voices
of his captors and had listened to various noises which
seemed to be out of the ordinary.

When he was led into the kidnapers’ lair, young Miller
said, he distinctly heard a radio playing the jazzy air of
“A-Tisket, A-Tasket.”

“Tt seemed to come from an open window somewhere
nearby,” he said. “After they took me inside and closed
the door, I couldn’t hear it any longer.

“The next day I heard church bells in the neighborhood
—they couldn’t have been far away, and later on in the
day I could hear a continual clicking noise—like as though
somebody was playing billiards.”

Criss carefully jotted down every word of the youthful
victim’s story. And then, satisfied that he had received as
much aid as possible from Miller, he returned to his office

56

SR ROTER INA RI 9 se SRNR

J. Edgar Hoover's famous G-Men rounded up these tough-looking

ex-convicts and accused them of the kidnap-murder of Arthur Fried.

They are (Left to Right) William Jacknis, Demetrius Gula, Joseph

Sacoda and John Virga. Two, Sacoda and Gula, confessed they had

cremated their victim's body, but each stoutly denied that he had
fired the bullet which ended the young contractor's life.

in New York’s new Federal Building, and reported to In-
spector M. E. Gurnea and Reed Vetterli, the latter in charge
of the New York branch of the Bureau.

Vetterli, a veteran agent in the FBI, and one of the
survivors of the notorious “Kansas City Union Station
Massacre,” immediately assigned every available agent in
the district, to check up on the case.

The G-Men had already tentatively established the fact,
deduced from a time standpoint, that young Miller had been
held somewhere in lower Manhattan, probably somewhere
in the East Side tenement district.

“The first thing you do,” said Vetterli, to Criss, “is go to
all the radio stations and check from which one ‘A-Tisket,
A-Tasket’ was played about 12:30, or one o’clock A. M. on
the morning of the kidnaping.”

This was readily established as station WMCA, and veri-
fied that portion of Miller’s story. Of course, the agents
had had no reason to doubt his veracity, but it is the custom
of the FBI to leave no bit of information unchecked.

Give AGENTS, AT VETTERLI’S DIRECTION, began to check
on all churches on the East Side, spreading out in
their search from a central point at Twenty-third Street
and First Avenue.

Young Miller accompanied the group, and residents of
the neighborhood were perhaps surprised to hear the tolling
of various church bells at odd times of the day or night,
as Miller attempted to identify their tonal qualities.

Several times young Miller was almost sure—but not
quite—that he recognized the tones of various bells. So the
Federal Agents continued their search.

Others checked on more than 700 billiard parlors and
pool rooms, scrutinized their patrons, and tried to find one
near a church, where both the church bell and the clicking
of the balls might have been audible to a convenient hiding
place for a kidnap victim.

Then, Miller suddenly remembered that while he was a
captive, he had also heard queer, shuffling noises, as though
large crowds were assembling in an adjacent part of the
same building.

From this, the investigators surmised that possibly Miller
may have been held in a room next to a saloon, or possibly
in the basement of a dance hall.

And, days late, both Miller and the Federal Agents felt
certain that they had located the place—Ukrainian Hall, at
217 Sixth Street, in the very heart of the teeming Ghetto.

Nearby was a church. Miller said he believed, from the
sound of its bell, that it was the one near where he was

ee

Above is Ar:
who was abc
in an autom
four days be
General Sos


Above is Arthur Fried, well-to-do White Plains, New York, contractor,

who was abducted after he had attended a movie with his wife, taken

in an automobile to an East Side, Manhattan, room and held prisoner

four days before he was crueily murdered and cremated. At right is

General Sessions Judge John J. Freschi, who presided at the trials
of Joseph Sacoda and Demetrius Gula.

held. In the basement of the hall was a billiard room,
the manager of whom was Dennis Gula, a naturalized Greek.

ILLER WAS TAKEN to all parts of the building, which
M in addition to being used as an assembly hall, also con-
tained a bar, the pool room, and several smaller, private
rooms.

Eventually, young Miller, after carefully going over one
of these smaller rooms, identified it as the place he had been
held from the scars and certain marks on the wooden door
which he had felt while groping his way around blindfolded

as a prisoner.

Much to their surprise, the Federal Agents then learned
that William Jacknis, whom they had been trailing because
of his friendship for “Benny” Farber, the earlier kidnap
victim, was a frequenter of the place and a pal of Demetrius
Gula, twenty-eight, a son of the Ukrainian Hall pool-room
proprietor. ,

This finding made them suspicious of young Gula, and
he, too, was trailed.

Then the G-Men, after carefully checking the records of
both men, learned that Jacknis, who had a criminal record,
was a close friend of Joseph Sacoda, twenty-seven, a con-
vict then in Sing Sing after having violated his parole, and
a former cell-mate of Hugo Fried, a brother of Arthur
Fried, the long-missing White Plains contractor for whose
ransom the kidnapers had demanded $200,000.

After a conference with Head G-Man J. Edgar Hoover,
it was decided to arrest Gula and Jacknis for questioning.
Jacknis was picked up, and when the Federal Agents located
Gula, they found him in the company of John Virga, thirty-
four, another ex-convict.

After hours of questioning, Gula finally broke down and
confessed that he had taken part in the snatch of Fried,
Farber and Miller. He also said that he had been present
when Joseph Sacoda had slain Fried.

NFORMED OF THIS, Jacknis admitted that he had acted as

“finger man” for the kidnapers in the snatching of Farber,
at whose home he had remained, an overnight guest, the
night before he was snatched.

Gula also pointed out a small suite in a tenement at 240
East Nineteenth Street, where Sacoda formerly lived with
his common-law wife, Marie. It was in one of these rooms.
he declared, that Fried had been held prisoner for four day
while Sacoda and himself negotiated with relatives of Fried
for ransom.

His confession—introduced in evidence at the trial of
Gula and Sacoda (Continued on page 81)

or
~


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Justice McNaught pronounced sentence.

“R. J. Simpson and Mary Fields Simp-
son, you have had a fair trial, you have
been ably defended and the jury has found
you guilty of murder in the first-degree.

“There is nothing further for me to do
except to impose the penalty that the State
provided under the law—death in the elec-
tric chair at Sing Sing prison!”

It was the first time in the history of
New York that a husband and wife had
been sentenced to die together for a crime.
Because of their obvious low mentality,
however, kind-hearted Governor Herbert
H. Lehman commuted their sentence to life
imprisonment, so they escaped paying the
supreme penalty for their crime.

CREMATING KIDNAPERS

for the kidnaping of Fried, only after a
four-week battle by Assistant District At-
torney Jacob J. Rosenblum, because Gula’s
counsel objected, claiming the confession
had been obtained by third-degree methods
—read:

“I, Demetrius Gula, do hereby make the
following statement to Inspector M. E,
Gurnea and Special Agent V. E. Criss of
the Federal Bureau of Investigation, United
States Department of Justice. I make this
statement freely and voluntarily and with-
out threat, duress or promise of reward or
immunity.

“About December 4, 1937, at about 11:45
P.M. or twelve o'clock midnight, Joseph Sa-
coda and I kidnaped a person whom [ later
was told was Arthur Fried. Joseph Sacoda
told: me this person was Arthur Fried. |

“Fried was driving a Packard coupe in
White Plains, New York, and Joseph Sa-
coda and I seen him start, and we followed
him for a block or two where we forced
him to the curb. Joseph Sacoda and I were
riding in a Buick sedan, License No. 7-N-
900, owned by me and registered in the
name of my father, Dennis Gula.

7 JUMPED OFF the car Joseph Sacoda and
I were in, and ran over to Fried’s Pack-
ard and told him it was a stick-up. I also
drew a gun. I told Fried to move over,
and I drove his car following Joseph Sa-
coda to a tavern near White Plains. We
abandoned the car and I told Fried to get
into the other car, which he did.

“When he got in our car we put glasses
with tape on them on Fried, so he wouldn’t
know where he was going. Joseph Sacoda
was driving. Fried was in the middle and
I was on the right side of the car. We pro-
ceeded straight to New York, to the apart-
ment in which Joseph Sacoda was living at
240 East Nineteenth Street, Manhattan.

“Joseph Sacoda and I held Arthur Fried
captive for about four days. The reason we
were holding him was for the purpose of
collecting ransom from members of his fam-

ily.

NCA fter being held for a day Joseph Sa-
coda made Fried write a letter to one of
the members of his family for about $200,-
000 ransom. Joseph Sacoda said he was
going out to deliver the letter. I said ‘O.K.’
I did not see Joseph Sacoda for a few
hours, because he was making negotiations
with some member of Fried’s family.

“"T“wo OR THREE days later Joseph Sacoda
‘came in and showed me a newspaper.
When I seen it I said, ‘Let him go.’ The
paper contained the Fried kidnaping. Jo-
seph says, ‘You're crazy. He knows me
now just like you do, because he had his
glasses off when he was with me.’ .
“Tasked him, ‘Well, what are you going
to do?’ And he says, ‘What do you think?
Knock him off!’ .
“He told Arthur Fried that he was going
to blindfold him, to take him some place

A peculiar angle of the case was that

impson’s parents were employed on the
farm of Mrs. H. T. Coon, a distant rela-
tive of District Attorney Coon, and R. J.
and Mary Simpson lived on a small farm
nearby. Here, almost at the feet of the
district attorney were the couple that had
committed the crime which took such hard
work to track down.

Hoffman and myself won praise from the
district attorney and the court for our work
in leading up to the discovery of the vic-
tim’s murderers. To me my efforts were
rewarded in “making my case.”

24 issues of REAL DETECTIVE cost you
$5.00 unless you use coupon on page 91,
Save $2.00 by ordering today.

From page 57

else, and he then put the blindfold on Fried,
We were then in the parlor of the bedroom
apartment and the radio was playing.

“Joseph Sacoda drew a revolver and shot
Fried in the head. He used a .32-calibre
revolver.

“At this time Arthur Fried was standing
toward the foot of the bed which was be-
tween the two windows, and. after he fell,
we wrapped his head in rags so the blood
would be stopped from running. This hap-
pened about twelve midnight.

“Before we put Fried in the car I went
around the corner and made a call to the
Ukrainian Hall. Upon receiving no an-
swer, I knew the place was closed. This
happened a little after twelve o'clock.

“I then came back to the apartment and
= poem Sacoda that the place was
closed.

i bg Sacopa, while working at the
Ukrainian Hall as a porter, had dupli-
cate keys made for the front door and the
door leading to the furnace.

“We picked Fried up, carried him be-
tween us and put him in the car. We drove
to the Ukrainian Hall and we opened the
front door. We carried Arthur out of the
car and took him in. This occurred about
one A.M.

“We went to the furnace in the Ukrain-
ian Hall and put Fried’s body in, putting
the head in first. We stayed there for three
or four hours, during which time we shook
the furnace down and put more coal on top
of him and then left.

“During the time that we had Fried at
Joseph Sacoda’s apartment I would remain
on guard with him. When Joseph Sacoda
went out to carry out negotiations with Ar-
thur Fried’s family, after we disposed of
Fried’s body, Joseph Sacoda discussed col-
lecting the ransom, but I do not know of
anything done along that line until some
weeks later, when I covered Loew’s Com-
modore Theatre at Second Avenue and East
Sixth Street.

Chess Sacopa described to me the ap-
‘pearance of Hugo Fried, who was to
come to the theatre with a package in his
arm and smoking a cigar, and I was to
watch for him to enter the theatre, when I
was to call Joseph Sacoda, who was a block
away ina drugstore, waiting for a call from

me.

“The arrangements were for Hugo Fried
to receive a telephone call at the phone in
the lobby of the theatre, and he was to go

to some exit and throw the money down.’

I saw Hugo Fried enter the theatre and
tried to reach Joseph Sacoda by telephone
at the drugstore, but. he did not answer.

“T did, not see Joseph Sacoda until. the
next day, when he said that the place. was
thick with cops that evening and the payoff
did not take place. :

“I know of'no other effort made after
this time to collect the ransom money.

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Smashing - New York’s 3
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(Continued from page 35)

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Hugo and got Arthur by mistake. . . . 50
they. don’t make mistakes any more, eh?
Maybe not—maybe they won't have the
opportunity.”

The clues Norman Miller gave were not
complete enough in themselves to Jead to |
the kidnapers’ den, but upon them the
federal sleuths hoped to build a chain
leading from the Coney Island movie
house straight to the vicious abductors.

A check at the theater showed that the
last bill on the night of July 24 ended
promptly at 12:10 am. A search of broad-
cast transcriptions told the FBI that A
Tisket A .Tasket was sung only over a |
Columbia Broadcasting System station be-
tween 12:10 and 1 A.M. The time the tune
had gone on the air was 12:46 a.m. Giving
the kidnapers another ten minutes to
reach their hideout, that meant that the
trip consumed approximately 40 minutes
—allowing the boys five minutes to walk
from the theater to Norman’s parked
machine.

On a map of Brooklyn and Manhattan,
the G-men ran an arc which represented
a normal 40-minute drive from its center
the scene of the snatch. This took in
quite a bit of territory.

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In order to narrow it down, the federal
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area in whtich the hideout was located, but
still left many blocks to. be searched. ©

Then Norman Miller said he believed
it took about ten minutes to’ go from the
‘hideout to the spot where he was let out,
and a third arc was drawn. Within the
area common to all three arcs, the. gov-
ernment agents: believed, they would find
the building in which the boy was held
captive.

History of the Mob

This structure, they felt sure, housed
some sort of meeting hall, for the noise
of men gathering and the rap of a gavel
were construed as indicative of a formal
session of some kind. It would also turn
out to have a billiards room, and would
be quite near a church. - :

On the. map the G-men marked off all

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closed in the three arcs’ on the map in
the FBI office is one of the most densely
populated in the world, and its inhabitants
are of a great number of national and cul-
tural backgrounds. Virtually every ene
of these has its.own peculiar social, re-
ligious. or political organizations, many Ce)
them supporting clubrooms of one kind or
another.

And it seemed virtually impossible to
find one of these meeting halls without
a basement, at least one billiards table
on an upstairs floor, and within sound 0
a church. t

Tirelessly .the federal agents plodded
through the crowded streets of the Lower
East Side, with Norman accompanying

them, trying to identify each place visited pa ad, Ae A
as that in which he had been held. Scores iit Sich cg et aia aor 7
of halls were ruled out of the picture after ¢ yas:

careful investigation. Many days were
consumed in the search.
At last the sleuths reached the Ukra-

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the churches and known meeting halls. || dreds, _prgapects, neat, you, Bar egmereant. naernDes:
They took young Miller on a tour of the sete, warehouses, stock rooms, pet mot any pat

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45

be around
ibly signal-
olic church.
ection from
ut couldn’t

other men
were low
r. He could
ie was able
sre at least
veside him-

n, then the
of the men
ait another
He heard
ming from
y for some
sounds. At
The clicks
{ balls. His
room.

More hours passed. In what he
judged was late afternoon, Norman
noted the pounding of many feet over
his head, and then heard for several
minutes the scraping of chairs on the
floor. The sharp rap of a gavel came
to his ears,. followed by a silence which
was broken from time to time by the
rumble of voices. The boy shrewdly
guessed that some kind of meeting was
going on upstairs.

It broke up at last. Not long after
that, all four of his abductors were in
the room again. He listened to excited
whispers, still’ unable to” understand
anything that was being said, and then
felt a rough hand on his arm, jerking
him to his feet.

“Okay, kid,” a gruff voice said. “It’s
time to go.”

Despite his courage, Miller felt his

John Virga, an ex-
convict, was flush
with money, yet he
had no visible means
of support. He came
under suspicion in :
the fast, brilliant :
kidnap investigation.

knees almost give way. Time to go
where? To the dark, churning waters
of the river? Had his father been un-
able to satisfy the demand for ransom?

Had he gone to the police with the’

story of the kidnaping, and were the
snatch terrorists going to do away
with him to prevent their capture?

He was led upstairs, outdoors and

- down the steps to a car at the curb.
The ride this time was not long. Nor-
man could tell by the cool breeze that
it was night, and that they were near
the water. Finally the machine slid
to a stop. . fis :

“Get out,’ the gruff tones com-
manded. “Stand still for five minutes
and then you can tear off the tape.
Don’t reach for it: before the five min-
utes are up, or you'll get hurt. We'll
be watching.” Nei ;

He heard the auto purr away and
stood swaying slightly. He wanted des-
perately to rip the blindfold from his
eyes, but feared the gang. would make
good its threat to shoot him. After a
couple-of minutes had passed, he could
resist the temptation no longer. He
tore the adhesive from his eyes and
mouth, gulped in mouthfuls of air and
blinked rapidly to accustom his pupils
to vision again.

He was alone in a dark, deserted

street. He was sure he was still in’

Manhattan, for the car had crossed no
bridge after he was taken from the
basement room. Norman turned and
legged it to the nearest corner, where
he peered up at the .street sign. He
was on East Eighth Street,

Five minutes later he was in a little
stationery store, fumbling with -the dial
on a booth telephone. He heard the
line buzz twice, then the strained voice
of his father responded.

“Dad!” The boy’s cry was half a sob
of joy. “It’s Norman and I’m all right.”

“Thank God!” came the fervent re-
ply. “Where are you?”

The youth gave the address and re-
mained there until his parent arrived
less than half an hour later:

Clues Prove Valuable
The next morning the father and son

» were in the offices of the Federal Bu-

reau of Investigation in Foley Square
in lower New York. The elder, Miller
told the agent in charge of being in-
formed by Sidney Lehrer of his son’s
fate, of the demand for $25,000 ransom,
and of telephonic negotiations with the
gang all day Monday.

“T finally managed to raise $13,000,”
he said. “It was all I could get. They
agreed to take it. At about 9 o’clock
last night I dropped the money into
the ashcan, as they directed me. An
hour later they released my son.”

“Can you tell me anything about the
men who put the snatch on you?”
the G-man asked the youth.

“Not a great deal about what they
looked like,” the boy replied. “But
I think I can give you a pretty good

‘idea of where they took me.”

“How?”

“J listened to everything. They tried
to confuse me by turning this way and
that just after they got me in their car,
but I could tell we were driving to-
ward Manhattan.” ane

“Manhattan’s a pretty big place. Can
you be more specific?”

Norman could. The -ear, he judged,
was driven at a moderate rate of speed,
doubtless to avoid the attention of
traffic police. Just as it approached
the bridge the driver had switched on
the radio and Norman heard a woman
singing A Tisket, A Tasket.

The bridge they crossed, he believed,
was ,the Williamsburg Bridge, because
he had heard an elevated train just
before approaching it ahd while they
were crossing. While the Manhattan
Bridge had trains crossing it, they were
subway trains which came out of the
tunnel at the approach, and Miller
had heard an overhead train before
reaching the bridge ramp.

The youth added that they drove no
more than ten minutes after leaving
the bridge before they stopped at the
address where he was held. He told
of hearing the click of billiard balls,
the sounds of the meeting overhead,
and the church bells.

“There were 36 strokes of those
bells,” he declared. “And there were
seven steps to climb from the side-
walk up the stoop at the place where
they kept me. Just inside the door we
turned to the right and went down 14
steps, then turned to the left and fol-
lowed a narrow corridor 33 steps to
the room where they let me lie on the
cot.”

The FBI agent was amazed at the
youth’s presence of mind in alerting
himself to the only possible means by
which the kidnapers could be traced.

Young Miller tried to. repeat word
for word all conversation he had heard.
When he recited the brief dialogue with
his. guard immediately after their ar-
rival at the basement prison, the fed-
eral agent showed new interest.

“You're sure he said they didn’t
make any more mistakes in their vic-
tims since—since when?”

“That’s when the driver came in and
made him shut up. Why—is that im-
portant?”

The G-man called for a file, and
when it was brought to him he studied
it for some minutes. “You may be
luckier than you know,” he told the
Millers at last. “Very probably this
was the same kidnap gang that
snatched Arthur Fried up in the Bronx.
Fried never came back—just disap-
peared while his brother Hugo was in
contact with the kidnapers. They final-
ly quit calling Hugo and his brother
never has been heard from.

The FBI man paused briefly. “The
strange part of that crime was that the
gang snatched the wrong fellow. They
were after (Continued on page 45)


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“At all drug stores and barber shops studied the details of previous crimes they

nian Hall at 217 East Sixth Street in Man-
hattan; The address was only a few blocks
from the point where Norman had been
freed by the kidnapers. as
The youth walked up the stoop, count-
ing the steps. There were seven, the right
number. Inside,’ the way to the basement
led to the right. There were 14 steps in
the stairs, and a narrow hall led back
to a door. It took 33 paces /to pass through
the corridor. -
| The boy closed his eyes and felt his
way to this entrance, pushed it open and
made his way almost without faltering to
a cot on the far side of the room.
“lm sure this is it,” he said huskily.
The G-men also were certain they had
found ‘the lair of the snatch artists; the
way in which Norman walked to the cot
with his eyes shut convinced them of that.
One of the FBI operatives went upstairs.
He found the meeting hall empty. He
scuffed chairs over the floor, then mounted
the rostrum and banged a gavel on the
speaker’s desk. Next he entered a back
room and rolled: several balls around the
billiard table. is
Upon his return to the cellar he saw
that ‘Norman was highly excited. “Every-
thing checks perfectly,” the youth said.
“The direction of the meeting room an|
the billiard table seem to be just. right.”
There was a church almost in the rear |

of the building. At the request of the in-
vestigators a sexton tolled the bell a few
times. In the basement ‘hangout, Norman |
listened. ; '
“Yes,” he nodded, “that’s the same bell. |
I remember its tone very well.” |
The sexton confirmed thé fact that the |

bell had been rung early on Monday
| morning, but he could not say whether
exactly 36 strokes had been sounded.
The search for the kidnapers’ hideout
had taken several weeks, and now the

only begun. The G-men moved slowly and

gang from among the many persons who
frequented the hall, the federal agents

were certain the mob had committed.

Li ip ina oe ae as Thirty-four-year-old Arthur Fried had

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Gir rea ii has evtless tongue odes FHF e8 and federal men searched for him in vain.
OMTNE Boh aeteebipier us STATE ORS eae Meanwhile, on April 18, 1938, at 8 o'clock
| C If you wish we will send it-C.0.D, Same return in the morning, Benjamin Farber, 33, re-
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been grabbed the night of December 4,
1937, a few minutes after he drove away
from his mother’s mansion in White Plains,
N. Y., just north of the Bronx. His car was
found abandoned a short time later, and
within a few hours the kidnapers got in
touch with the victim’s brother Hugo
at his garage in the Bronx. They directed
him to go to a bar on the upper West Side
of Manhattan, where they said instructions
would be found in the washroom. :

There he picked up an envelope in
which was.a note in Arthur Fried’s hand-
\ writing asking that his family raise $200,-
000 to buy his freedom.

In . telephone conversations with the
gang Hugo convinced: them. he could not
! raise such a sum. The abductors finally
agreed to accept $5,000 and gave the
brother detailed instructions about throw~
ing the money from a mezzanine window
in. a movie house on the East Side of
Manhattan. :

However, this plan misfired, and after a
few further phone. calls, contact with the
kidnapers was_ broken off. In all, Hugo
Fried had received 34 calls from the men
| who snatched his brother, and in none of
| | them had there been a glue to the mob.

After several weeks of silence the Frieds
| | resigned themselves to the belief that
| Arthur would never be ‘returned. Police

hunt for the terrorists themselves was DETECTIVES

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in Brooklyn.

he started for
a. bank near

kidnaped. by 2
who slid into

That same_

was much like

the work
was suspected

Assuming

the certain

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chose friends,
kidnapers -had

made an impo
C

the \Ukranian
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“Speaking,” he-replied. Then there was
stand it, but forgot the peculiar call as

Coney Island and ‘withdrew -
$100. As he got

a revolver into his side.

phoned Farber’s brother at
coal yard. They

Irving Farber
couldn’t get that much money and

Farber was seized
from ‘the street where the two men
grabbed Norman
quick to guess
of the same gang, whic

the winter of 1938. ‘ ‘

that the same mob was re-
sponsible for the three snatches—and for
murder of Arthur Fried—the
feds studied ‘all available information on
the previous abductions in their effort to

had been asked to write down the names
from whom an intermediary
could be selected. Naturally the

In looking over

names on it was
of the men who was seen

tained that the rank and file of the men
who assembled in
law-abiding citizens.
ured that someone
the place must have participated in the
snatch of young
this man? It seemed hardly likely that he
alone could have obtained use of the place
as a hideout without being discovered by
a caretaker or some

i The Last Mile

“Is ‘this Ben Farber?” a voice

e couldn’t under-

his office. He went first to
back into his car he was
tall, slim, long-nosed: man
his. machine: and pressed

the kidnapers
the family’s
,000.

abductors he
they
releasing Ben.

morning

wanted $25
told’ the

that i
in a district not tar

Miller. The G-men were
that all three jobs were

i also
of several bold robberies in

kidnaped, Farber

victim
and from among them the
chosen his
this list the
rtant discovery. One of the
Walter Janovich. And one
( frequently in
Hall was Walter Janovich.
sleuths already had ascer-

the hall were honest,
However, they fig-
with easy access to
Janovich

Miller. Was

regular visitor.

SUIT YOURS Janovich was watched. One of hijs

Earn CASH Showing to Friends! cronies around the hall in East Sixth

Write at once it you want this fine made-to-meas, Street was Demetrius Gula, 30, a son of

ou a orde!

Bi nan ar ut gee Mose A a dient leased the Place in

F rimestoxmetenr oa auhes Wulored il 8 95 charge of tis hall, young Gula doubtless
Radmemmatcriiatete | would have. free hong

OO NEER TAILORING COMPANY Babes ave free run of the premises,

congress nna Throop Sts., Dept. a-1130, Chicage 7, Il! Moreover, Gula had a criminal record!

At the time he and J anovich came under

the scrutiny of the G-men, both were

e e >
a | a I r R u f n e r wae had done a stretch
Lack of Care Prevents Mat
LONGER H AIR mustache. Virga was
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former racetr

placed under
association wi

Gula was tall and slender and wore a

good-looking

For

ja

spending considerable sums of
its source was

a WPA instructor at a modest wage,

-Gula had no visible means of support.
The pair had

short time when

was mysteriously flush
was John Virga, a sometime fruit peddler

money, and
not apparent. Janovich, a
ack tout, was employed as
while

been shadowed only a
a third man was also
surveillance because of his
th them and because he, too,
with money. He

in Sing Sing for
a chunky, hard-

Janovich a rather
young man who was ad-

A dicted to flashy clothes.

little Vit ‘ol - Ointment rubbed into the hai +43 .

‘ tenes a Week as helped many overcome suc conditions Waiting until they could nab the three

toda yrpniy SI halt Peave, tax re Wnesctens. yhotadll together, the FBI operatives arrested them.

today. der.” Satisfaction ‘uaranteed or money refunded. All protested their innocence, but in the
\ hall the G-men found a machine gun, and

box of counterfeit federal revenue

chologist,
Step

(Photo shows Konradi Leitner
with medium in stage of hyp-
notic sleep.)

Konradi Leitner.
world famous Ppsy-
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47

yLVE MYSTERIES

The Story Thus Far:

N December 4th, 1937, Arthur

Fried, New York business man, is
snatched -by kidnapers on his way home
from a movie, a ransom of $200,000 be-
ing demanded. Telephone contact is es-
tablished between the kidnapers and
Hugo Fried, the victim’s brother, and
while they are dickering as“to terms,
police and G-men keep out of sight. Two
of the mob, designated Pasty-Face and
The Rat, telling their captive that a
ransom has been paid and that he is
to be set free, take him downtown to
the Ukrainian Hall, and into a basement
room there. :

Expecting to see his brother soon,
and listening for his voice, Arthur Fried,
still blindfolded, stands uncertainly in
the center of the floor. Meanwhile The
oe revolver in hand, steps up behind

The Story Continues:
Part Two

XCEPT for the dull roar of the
furnace and the noises in the
dance hall upstairs, the basement

" of the Ukrainian Hall was quiet.
The guard stuck his head through the
door. “Okay,” he called softly. Then

he shut it again and hurried back to his”

lookout post.

Arthur Fried, his eyes bandaged se-
curely, swayed a bit. His head turned
questioningly in the direction of a sound
that one of the kidnapers made.

The muzzle of the revolver held in the
Rat’s hand was now only an inch away
from Fried’s temple. There was a sharp
report. The orange darts of flame leapt
the short distance between the muzzle
and the kidnap victim’s head.

Arthur Fried suddenly spun about. and
pitched forward. :

(Opposite page) Through the open door of this huge
furnace in Ukrainian Hall, the kidnapers thrust the body
of their victim. (Below) The motion picture theatre
where Hugo Fried took the ransom money and, at left of

photograph, the exit from which he was supposed to throw
it to the street below. (Right) Ben Farber (seated),
who was boldly snatched outside his bank on a pretext,
and his brother, Irving, later approached for ransom

for TRUE DETECTIVE

Pasty-Face expertly turned the vic-
tim on his side, raised the coat and
bound it about the dead man’s head so
as to stanch the flow of blood.

“Give me a hand,” he said to his ac-
complice, grabbing one of the victim’s
arms.

- The Rat stuck the smoking revolver
into his coat pocket. “Do you think any
one heard' the shot?” he asked nervously.

As though in answer to his question
the door opened again and the guard
once more put his head through. “Okay
out here,” he said. “I hardly heard a
sound.” .
‘The Rat grabbed Fried’s other arm
and together the kidnapers dragged their
victim’s body through the doorway into
the furnace room. Pasty-Face yanked
‘open the furnace door... .

* * %*

At the end of three hours the furnace

-was sifted down and more coal thrown

By MICHAEL
STERN

Special Investigator


on the fire. Then Fried’s clothing was
burned. There was not a single trace of
the human being who had entered with
the kidnapers.

As the three brutal slayers walked
out of the Ukrainian Hall, , Pasty-Face
said, “I told you the plan was fool-
proof.” :

“Sure,” the swarthy-faced, phlegmatic
look-out man agreed tonelessly. “Only
it’s a shame to kick all that dough into
the ash-can after doing so much work.”

“Who said anything about giving up
that money.” "

“Fried’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Sq what?” Pasty-Face . countered
acidly. “I’m going, right out to collect
that cash. There’s no corpus delicti.”

The two kidnapers’ gazed’ admiringly
at their leader.

“Listen, suckers,” he snapped. “We're
in the clear and you don’t even know
it!”

Having traced down the telephone
calls made by the impostors and learned
that they were false, the FBI, not hav-
ing received any authentic word from
the kidnapers, feared that Fried had
already been murdered.

The snatchers had left no trace of
their own handwriting, the ransom note
having been written entirely by the vic-
tim himself at their dictation. Nor had
they employed anv sign ot symbol by
which the victim’s family could identify
the gang who actually held Arthur Fried.

a

Hence the authenticity of the kidnap
mob had to be judged entirely by the
voice of the man who had made the
original ransom demand over the tele-
phone, prior to the time the news of
the kidnaping had become public.

And then the victim’s brother received
another call. He recognized the precise,
clipped voice. For days the kidnapers
dickered with him concerning the
amount of the ransom. Appointments
for contact were made and broken. Fi-
nally, on January 3rd, 1938, arrange-
ments were made for Hugo to pay for
the release of his brother.

H® was directed to go to the Loew’s
Commodore Theatre on Second

Avenue and Sixth Street, at 10:15 p.m.

He was to go alone. When he arrived he
was to put a cigar in his mouth, light it
and walk up and. down under the mar-
quee for three minutes. Then he was to
buy his ticket and enter the theatre.
Once inside he was instructed to walk up
the left hand stairway to the first mez-
zanine and go immediately to Exit 25.
He was to open this door and fling the
package containing the money into the
street below. He was immediately to
close the exit door and under no cir-
cumstances was he to look to see
whether any one picked up the package.

Hugo arrived at the theatre at the
appointed hour. Under his arm was the
oblong package containing the $3,500

(Below) East Sixth Street, show-

ransom. -He got out of his car, lit a
cigar and paced anxiously up and down
the pavement.

Second Avenue, known as the Broad-
way of the East Side, was ablaze with
lights. On both sides of the street the
night clubs and restaurants of all na-
tions are erowded.

Hugo felt sure that whoever had put
the finger on his brother as a possible
kidnap victim was a person known to
him. Thus, while trying to appear un-
suspicious he glanced from side to side
as he walkéd, hoping to recognize some
one whom he might identify as the kid-
naper. But this was an impossible task,
because ofthe throng of pedestrians who
pushed by.

At the end of three minutes he pur-
chased a ticket at the booth outside
the theatre and entered. He walked up
to the mezzanine floor, turned to the
left and saw the dull red glow of a sign
which read. Exit 25. He opened the
door and stepped out onto the iron fire-
escape which jutted out over the Sixth
Street side of the theatre.

The street was in deep shadow. There
were a few passers-by, but none of them
paid him any attention. Across the
street stood a deserted factory building.
The lights.were on in a few windows in
the tenement houses. The only real sign
of life appeared a few doors down where
the Ukrainian Hall was bathed in light.
_ did not know it, the

x

‘

$
ing spot beneath fire-escape of thea- >t
tre where the gang expected to pick spot was |.
7 up $3,500 of ransom cash. (Left) . » They had t

John Virga, one of the snatch mob

ected a

>

+ A
** his overcoat

* trusively an

* no arrests.

ransom pac
‘back to his
to catch the

» Arthur Frie:

Hugo had
from under
as though t:
sailed by fre
the kidnap«

- his brother

ransom not:
and a half :
new contic'
elever inter!
had mistake
naper.

ETERMI
Hugo
tucked the

He returne:!
pacing up 2:

Hugo's m
loved his br:
* anxious to
sure his safe
_ for some pr

had been co
*ultimatum. |

©-a showdown.
_ Were going 1
_ Still lived or

vanvary, 1940

28 TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES


own death in the electric chair.

One day, late in 1933, a young man
walked into my office in the courthouse in
Scranton. I recognized him at once. It
was the Myers’ elder son, William.

“T wanted to talk to you before,” he said,
“But I did not dare. My whole family
was terrorized from the very moment: of
the fire. We got many letters and mes-
sages threatening to kill us if we spoke to
you. But since Bruno went to prison we
feel safer.

“T saw men in the cellar that night, over
on Rocco’s side and one of them—the only
one I recognized—was Frank Bruno!”

After he had gone I sent for Frank

‘Delar who had never been sentenced for
the Bonielli job.

N using Delar I make no apologies for

the Commonwealth. ‘Criminals do not
associate with fine, law-abiding.citizens. I
could not hope to find Riccardo’s friends
among the gentlefolk of the community.
And so, if I used a convicted criminal to
aid me, I say it was necessary.

And if Delar tried to help himself that
can be understood, too. But he denied he
had taken part in the Mill Street con-
spiracy. He declared Bruno had promised
to take him on the job. Rocco had prom-
ised that he and Bruno should, have the
job, but that Bruno double-crossed him
and did not take him along.

I sent out and arrested Rocco. Riccardo ;

and went before the Grand Jury and in-
dicted Rocco and Bruno for murder!
And then began preparation’ of a case
that has attracted nation-wide interest.
Although I endeavor to be conscientious in
all the matters I prosecute for the ‘State,
I have never given a case so much time.or
care as I did to getting this one ready for
court. Every witness wis carefully ques-
tioned. I had.a chain of circumstances
which I believed strong enough to send
Rocco and Bruno to the electric chair.
: In December, 1933, Sergeant: Broski,
“Trooper Pope and John W. Murphy, my
first assistant, went to the penitentiary in
Philadelphia and formally charged Bruno
with’ murder.

‘ We went to trial in Scranton on Janu-
‘ary 29th, 1934, before Judge Will Leach.
Bruno; tried first on the joint indictment,
pleaded not guilty. Only one.of my wit-
nesses “fell down.” Mrs. Swingle, on whom
I ‘had relied to describe to the jury the
burned face and singed hair of Frank Bru-
no the morning after the fire, suddenly

Kidnap Comb

doomed his brother to death.

As months passed without the finding of
the body, doubt was raised in certain
_ quarters as to whether this was,a genuine
kidnaping case. If there were an unhappy
domestic situation in Fred’s life or if he
had secretly fallen in love with another
woman—his business affairs could be ruled
out since they were in. perfect order—this
would have been his easiest way to, re-
move himself from the scene, Had he
made any large withdrawals of money he
would have given himself away, .In this
manner he could have had himself con-
veniently kidnaped, negotiate for a large
ransom and then disappear for good. leav-
ing the inference that he was dead, _

"ho the FBI Kidnap Squad, expert in
the investigation of the crimé’ of abduc-
tion to a degree never before realized
in police history, there was no doubt at
all. They knew that Arthur’ Fried had
been kidnaped and the fact that he had
not been returned after this length of

116

said it was “sometime in June” she had

seen him. This was a blow to us and I.

felt some one had talked to her. I was
right, for she admitted later in the day to
Broski that during recess, one of Roc-
co’s family approached her in the corri-
dor of the courthouse and threatened that
if she testified against Rocco she would
suffer for it.

Before the Commonwealth rested, she
was recalled and then she told the truth
as she had first related it to us.

Bruno’s defense was an alibi. He pro-
duced records to show that he had not
used his own car the night of the fire but

rented an automobile to go to Way-
mart, ten miles from Scranton, to deliver
some bootleg whisky. The speedometer,
however, showed he had gone only two
miles and he pepeieet this by saying he
always “fixed” the meter when he rented
a car so he would not have to pay full
rice. The garage officials verified that he

d rented a machine that night but they
could not swear Bruno had left his own
black Hudson sedan with them. Nor could

Bruno produce the customer to whom he.

said he had sold liquor.
He admitted attending a conference in
Nay Aug Park when his defense was dis-

cussed but insisted it was for burning the

Bonielli Eyer He denied he ever told
them, “If I burn, you will burn,” although
Frank Delar swore he did.

All the other Riccardos pleaded they
were victims of a blackmailing arsonist
and ‘quite innocent.

‘We argued to the jury that it is com-
mon knowledge that the punishment for
arson is a prison sentence and that the
only possible crime Bruno could have re-
fe to in making. his threat was the

case where the little girl was murdered.

““And we submit,” I told the twelve
jurors, “that it was a proper inference. to
make in stating that he referred to burn-
ing in the electric chair.”

urder, as defined by the common law,
consists of the unlawful killing of a human
being with malice aforethought, either ex-
pressed or implied. Malice is a legal term
which comprehends not only a particular

ill will but every case where there is
wickedness of disposition, hardness of
heart, cruelty, recklessness of consequences

or a mind regardless of social duties,

In this case we contend that the death
of Marian Wells was caused by the wilful

burning of a building.

On February 2nd, 1934, Frank Bruno

(Continued from page 29)

time meant to them only one thing—he
had been murdered.

The clue of the ransom note-paper had
been run down, but it led to nothing. All
but one lead had been followed up and
proven false. This was the clue to the
— number of the license plates on the

idnapers’ car, as furnished by the high
school students who had seen the abduc-
tion. All they had seen on that dark night
in December, were the ciphers 7N.

“On file at the State Motor Vehicle Bu-
reau were eight thousand registrations in
that series. The fact that the car was
known to be a sedan would help cut this
total—though not to any great extent. Al-
so, the youths thought that the car was
either a 1937 Dodge, Oldsmobile or Buick.
While this also tended to eliminate some

from the list, the very vagueness of their .

description necessitated checking other
models to avoid the possibility of error.

That the car itself was still in the pos-
session of the mob seemed certain because

was convicted of murder in the first degree
and the jury fixed the omar at death,

A crowded courtroom heard the verdict,
and the corridors were jammed.

Thomas Taylor, assistant chief parole
officer of the Eastern State Penitentiary,
was in charge of the prisoner, having
brought him to Scranton to stand trial.
We had heard rumors of plans to kill Bru-
no on his way back to Philadelphia. He
had many enemies.

So persistent were these rumors that
Taylor decided’ to take a different route
on his return to Philadelphia where Bruno
was to remain until the date for his ex-
ecution. It was fortunate he did so. We
learned later that three gunmen, hired by
men who hated and feared Bruno, la:
waiting in a small building at a crossroa
near Moscow, a suburb of Scranton, just
off the main highway.

Rocco Riccardo also was tried for the
murder of Marian Wells and was found
guilty of first degree murder with the
poste set at life imprisonment. We be-
ieve the jury was swayed by the fact he
was an old man and really had been se-
riously ill at times. When Bruno appealed
from the death.sentence a week later he
too was given & commutation and both
men are now serving life terms in the
penitentiary at. Philadelphia.

Their conviction is the only one in the
history of Pennsylvania where &n_ indivi-
dual received a first degree murder sen-
tence growing out of arson. Indeed, ac-
cording to the National Board of Fire
Underwriters, of 85 John Street, New York,
there have been few such convictions in
the entire country and the underwriters
have a record of only three.

uae was. @ tragic sequence to the
Mill Street fire. Sergeant Broski, with-
out whose help we could never have prose-
cuted Bruno Riccardo so well, was
shot to death by gunmen, during the hold-
up of a roadhouse outside Wilkes-Barre
on August 14th, 1937.

Delar finally was sent to the peniten-
tiary for robbery and there from the day
he entered Bruno made life miserable for
him. Captain Herbert Smith, warden, and
Deputy Warden-Thomas Meikrantz did
their best to keep the men separated. De-
spite that, the human rat Bruno managed
to so harass and torment him that Delar
went stark insane and is now confined in
the State Hospital for the Criminal Insane
at Farview, Pennsylvania.

ine and the Flaming Tomb

neither the car nor the license plates had
been reportedsstolen prior to the crime
nor had either,,been abandoned after it.

Assigned six additional agents to the
New York field office, the FBI began the
arduous task of’ tracing down the history
of each of the/thousands of auto owners
whose plates began with 7N.

The tremendous handicap under which

‘the G-men began this monumental task

can be understood when it is realized that
there was not a single shred of outside
evidence to point the finger of suspicion
—let alone guilt—at the kidnapers, even
Mog their names were reached on the
ist. i

Every person‘h ad to be checked accord-
ing to past criminal record, if any, means
of creme a eeood. and. associates,
Those without™visible means of support
or with a crimimal:record, were to be sub-
jected to a searching inquiry.<: .

An executive genius, Director J. Edgar
Hoover had shed a system by which

% DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

his men we
ted the mi
ing the lis’
State Com:
famous Sp:
Unaware
cremated, |
intensive -
One thing
kidnapers |
som mone)
short of fu
Their acutr
such crime
very near |
It was a
16th, 1938,
of 137 Vari:
the glass w
Coal Com
seated at a
kin, manag
held a tele;
he made
phone.

HUS ab
when t!
place, two
seat, while |
light hat a:
machine ab:
the office.
telephone «
eyes. Both
dressed, TT!
had high «
a receding
of rat-like «
expressionle
glow of tl
whipped ou
the manage:
“Keep rig
Startled,
to the mou!
other end.
now, I'll ca
hung up an
“Never m
“Get over t
“T haven’!
“Never n
dough!”
Mishkin k
test and su
back from |
the safe. G
whirled the
the right, th
the tumble
open the d
With th
grabbed hi
jerked him
the corner
$400 in ca
tucked it :
the gun at
dered him }
“Stayt!
warned, “'
before ther
full of hole
The rat-f
at the doo
turned abo
They hurle:
car and it
Although
had grabbe
a frantic ap
the robber:
through th«
about the s
telegraph b
could offer
of the ban
recinct,
ogues Ga
active in t}
though cer

JANUARY, 19

(Below) Exterior view of | Whoever was.at, this. spot waiting to re-

lit a the Ukrainian Hall, scene ceive the ransom money had undoubt-
down of an incredible crime edly watched ‘his actions. If they wanted
to learn the reason why the money was
vroud- not thrown, they could no doubt see
with him striding up and down the lobby and
t the they would make some effort to get in
| na- touch with him: again.
Five’ minutes had ‘gone by when an
d put -usher walked up to him. “Are you Mr.
ssible Roberts?” he asked.
vn to “Yes,” Hugo answered eagerly.
i oun- “There’s a telephone call for you.” He
o side pointed’ to:a public phone booth.
- some Hugo, hurried, to. it,. placed the re-
ie kid- ‘ceiver to his ear, “Hello.”
- task, ‘Ts this Hugo Fried?” It was the
is who voice of ‘the kidnaper.
“That’s: right.”
© pur- “Better toss that dough out of the
outside exit like you’re supposed to if you want
sed up to see your brother alive.”
io the “What proof have I got 'that I’m deal- .
pat sq ing with the right people?”
ed the “You recognize my voice, don’t you?”
yn fire- “But my brother—I want definite
» Sixth proof that he is still alive. Not once
since you’ve called have you given me
. There any.” :
f them “T’m giving you my word for it.”
ss the “No. I want proof.”
uilding. “Okay. You asked for it,” the kid-
lows in naper snarled as he banged the receiver
eal sign back on the hook.
1 where Hugo Fried returned home disconso-
in light. late, and as time passed and all indica-
it, the tions showed that contact with the

snatch mob was lost, forever, he had fresh
misgivings. He shuddered at the possi-
bility that his own over-active suspicions
might have (Continued on page 116)

spot was being covered by the Gemen.
They had taken up their stations unob-
: trusively and had been ordered to.make
* no arrests. The man who picked up the
ransom package was to be shadowed
‘back to his hide-out. Here they hoped
to catch the rest of the mob and liberate
Arthur Fried if he still lived. ;

Hugo had already taken the package
from under his arm, and raised his hand
as though to throw it. But he was as-
sailed by fresh doubts. The only proof
the kidnapers had furnished him. that

~ his brother still lived was the original

ransom note received more than’ three
and a half weeks before. What-if this
new contact had been arranged. by a
‘ dever interloper whose voice he, Hugo,
‘had mistaken for that of the real! kid-
naper. coat

- T)ETERMINED not to be deceived
‘47 Hugo abruptly lowered his~ arm,
tucked the ransom package back into
"his overcoat and re-entered the theatre.
He returned to the lobby and began
pacing up and down. ‘
Hugo’s mind raced furiously, He
loved his brother and was desperately
anxious to do anything that would in-
sure his safe return. All his pleadi

g
“5
a

for some proof that Arthur sti ed
had been countered by threats*or an
ultimatum. Now he was going to have

a showdown. Once and for
were fone to prove to him tha
_ still lived or no money would

Zaxvarr, 1940

they (Above) View of the
Hall’s basement, looking
into pool room and bar = ~~

6b MYST


i tac le Sak i a cin te

eas

: T WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT.
| ' The group seated in the living °
; room of the house.in White’
_ *Plains, New York, was silent: One
| of them, Mrs. Emma Fried,- wept
| softly.. Mrs. Fried, an elderly
+ ,woman, sat between two of her:
sons, Roth and Hugo. On the other -
side of the room were her daugh-
ter, Elsie, and Elsie’s husband. = ,
Seated by the telephone was Mrs.
Arthur Fried, the wife of a'third |
son, and two law officials.:These
| were White Plains Chief of Police
| William Miller and District At-. .
‘ torney Walter Ferris. The tele- —
phone was the focal point of the —
room. From time to time every-..
one present lifted his head and
stared at it. It was obvious that an
important call was expected. —
It was five minutes past. midnight
on the morning of December 7th, 1937,
when the telephone bell finally shrilled
_  imperatively. -Hugo Fried sprang from
, - his chair and snatched up the receiver.
| He said, “Hello,” then listened far. some
; minutes. Finally he hung up and
' turned to face his family and the two
officers. és
“How is he?” asked Mrs. Fried. “Is
| he all right? Is Arthur all right?”
Hugo nodded. “He’s okay. They’ve

‘ °
c

¢

_ FAMOUS KIDNAP CASES

4
&
Fil in series : : i

fa

“d Arthur Fried suffered a gruesome fate

49


up an entire case and he had to work fast.
He sat down with Captain Mullins and
worked out a precise and complete plan
which he felt would enable him to bring
both Sacoda and Gula to justice.

Captain Mullins assigned Detectives
George Swander and Edward Shields to
bring Sacoda down from Sing Sing. Sacoda
was strangely silent when, shackled to the
detectives, he was ushered onto the New
York Central train. Here was the twisted
mind which had conceived a gruesome
death for inoffensive Arthur Fried. So cold
was his nature that the most intense suf-
fering—in others—left him unmoved. Yet
this moral and physical coward who had
planned the burning of Fried’s body burst
into tears of self-pity.

“I know why you're taking me back,” he
sobbed. “It’s so that you can send me to
the death house. I don’t want to die.”

. "[ HESE were thoughts which never oc-

curred to him when he had condemned
to death an innocent man.

The detectives and Sacoda arrived at
Rosenblum’s office shortly after midnight.
For the next seven hours Rosenblum ques-
tioned Sacoda, with the assistance of
Shields and Swander, and bit by bit they
drew from him the entire story of the kid-
naping. ‘Sacoda admitted in detail his part
in the crime. He also outlined the réle
that Gula played. Sacoda was irked by
the statement of Danny Gula that, he,
Sacoda, had fired the shot into Fried’s
head in the East 19th Street apartment be-
fore Fried was shoved into the furnace
in Ukrainian Hall.

“Danny lied when he said that I shot
Fried,” he said bitterly. “And he lied
when he said he was shot in my flat. It
was Danny himself who put the bullet
through his brain and he did it down in
the basement of Ukrainian Hall.”

Captain Mullins assigned two additional
detectives, George Dunphy and James
Hayden, crack members of his Homicide
Squad, to help work up the case before
the month’s time elapsed. :

A microscopic search of the wooden
floor in the small bin off the furnace room
where Fried had been shot brought to

light nine spots of blood that time had
not, obliterated. Tested in the laboratory
by Dr, Alexander O. Gettler, the city’s
Chief Toxicologist, this was found to be
human blood.

Detectives Swander and Shiclds traced
the lead of the hide-away flat on East
19th Street and learned that it was usu-
ally occupied by Sacoda’s girl friend,
Marie La Monte and her sister Sophie.

Three hours after Fried was snatched
Sacoda had driven the girls to New Jersey.
He did not permit them to return to the
flat for a week. The kidnap car was left
in New Jersey. These and other bits of
new evidence corroborated the confession.

Gula and Sacoda went to trial first. For
six weeks Prosecutor Rosenblum mar-
shaled the evidence, presented it in a
masterful manner to the jury. Finally on
January 27th, 1939, he stood before the
jury box and summed up for the People.
There were two things he wished to avoid
in this, the first trial of its kind in the
state. Sacoda and Gula had often made
the remark “No corpse, no court.” These
kidnapers and murderers thought that by
burning up the body they were safe. It
was of utmost importance that they be
not allowed to escape justice by any
criminal method which they might devise.

AID Prosecutor Rosenblum: “I say to
you, gentlemen, you would be doing
the most tragic thing if you brought back
aw verdict which is not merited by the facts,
regardless of what that verdict may be.
The law provides for a recommendation
of merey if the circumstances merit. it.
These men are entitled to a fair trial and
justice. If they are not guilty, turn them
free. If they are guilty there is nothing
in this case which entitles them to a rec-
ommendation of mercy.”
The defense contended that the con-
fessions were secured through coercion,
but the testimony of Dr. Leonard Gott-
lieb, a prominent New York physician
who was in attendance during the ques-
tioning of the kidnapers, refuted this.
For five and one-half hours the jury de-
liberated before returning to the court-
room. The defendants sat white-faced.

The Clerk of the Court rose.
“Gentlemen, how do you find the de-
fendants?”
The foreman stood pi and in a quiet
ha

voice said, “Guilty as charged in the in-
dictment!”

There was no recommendation. When
the verdict was returned, Rosenblum stated
to Judge Freschi and the jury that “This
verdict will serve notice to the underworld
and all other kidnapers that in this coun-
try the crime of kidnaping will be dealt
with promptly, and that in every case
the death penalty will be demanded where
the facts warrant it.”

Two days later Judge John J. Freschi
sentenced Sacoda and Gula to die in the
electric chair at Sing Sing.

Virga was thereafter put on trial by
Rosenblum for the Miller and Farber kid-
naping. He was found guilty and was
sentenced to from fifty years to life im-
prisonment for each kidnaping. Added
to this was an additional ten years for
parole violation. Sentence on Jacknis,
who pleaded guilty to the kidnapings and
who testified against Virga, had not been
pronounced at time of going to press.

This left only Jerry Russo, the most in-
significant member of the mob, still at
liberty. This condition didn’t exist for
long. Late in the spring of 1939, Detec-
tive Shields got on his trail. learned that
he had stowed away on the S. S. Rez, and
that he was using the alias of Ciro Lig-
nore. Notified by cable, the Italian au-
thorities arrested him as he stepped down
the gangplank. Since the arrest was ef-
fective in Italy, Russo, an Italian citizen,
became bound by Italian law, and the
charges and evidence have been forwarded
to Rome where he will stand trial.

N the annals of crime there has never

been a worse gang of kidnapers, nor one
led by so fiendish a leader, yet when the
combined law enforcement agencies got
to work, the wages of their miserable
deeds were two sentences of death in the
electric chair, 110 years to life imprison-
ment for Virga and a long term for Russo.
Punishment for Jacknis is still to be meted
out.

Personalities in Law Enforcement

his senior. The first part of the story of
his life related by Manton sounded
strangely familiar to Cahill—for Manton,
too, had = worked his way — through
Columbia.

Then Cahill began firing the questions
which exposed Manton’s betrayal of his
high office. The Judge had long been in
a position where lawyers and defendants
had to cringe before his steely eyes and
acid tongue. He tried to bully the young
prosecutor—until Judge Calvin Chestnut
coldly reminded him that he was a de-
fendant now, and not in charge of the
courtroom.

Time and again, Manton would shout,
“Of course!” and “I’ve already told you
that!” To which Cahill would blandly
reply, “Pardon me, Judge.”

And when the jury came in, it was with
a verdict of guilty for the Judge, lately of
exalted position, branded by Cahill as a
“merchant of justice.’ Manton later ap-
pealed his case.

That case was only part. of the whirl-
wind activity by the new prosecutor. He
cleaned up the fantastically mixed affairs
left by the financial masquerader and
fraud, F. Donald Coster, who dealt in
tens of millions but who was really the
ex-convict, Philip Musica. It was a case

124

(Continued from page 49)

which caused Cahill to remark:

“Fingerprinting ought to be far more
widespread—well-nigh universal, in fact. I
certainly approve of it for all jurors. If
it, were universal, affecting the high as
well as the lowly, the masquerade of
Musica as F. Donald Coster could not
have continued. His fingerprints attached
to the financial statements of McKesson
«& Robbins would have prevented the
amazing swindle.”

His) prosecutions brought convictions
against such persons as the long-immune
gangster John Torrio and Mrs. Edgar
‘Lauer, smuggler wife of a judge.

“T propose the impersonal approach to
justice,” Cahill explains. “All are to be
treated alike as long as I hold this office.
The guilty are to be punished, the inno-
cent vindicated.”

Perhaps the most significant of all of
Mr. Cahill’s undertakings, however, was
the “Who’s Who of Crime” special Grand
Jury which he empanelled last summer, It
wax also called the “Lepke”? Grand Jury
because much of its work consisted of
unmasking the notorious New York racket-
eer, Louis (Lepke) Buchalter, and _ his
satellites. The inquiry was broader than
any one case or criminal, however, and set
a precedent which Mr. Cahill hopes to

sce continued. Using information compiled
by sleuths of the FBI, part of the Grand
Jury’s work was aimed at those who
harbor criminals,

The — strategy worked — sensationally.
Shortly after the jury indicted five per-
sons on charges of keeping Lepke supplied
with hideaway funds, the gang chief ab-
jectly surrendered to FBI Director J.
Edgar Hoover. Without funds, he had
been forced to crawl out of his hole.

Cahill’s argument was logic itself: that
a person who provides a fugitive with
funds “harbors” him just as effectively as
if he were hiding the fugitive in his cellar.

The prosecutor showed little patience
with persons who balked at testifying be-
fore the jury. When Ben Marden, a New
Jersey mght club proprietor, shut up like
a clam when asked about certain things
going on at his rendezvous, he was
promptly sentenced to six months in
prison for contempt of court. To get out
of that, he wasted no time answering the
questions, When the ex-gang leader,
Benjamin (Bug) Siegel, told the jury he
couldn’t remember what he had said one
day to Lepke. Judge John C. Knox sent
him to jail to refresh his memory. He then
was able to recall the facts.

Acting on Attorney General Murphy’s

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

instructions, C
New York C
crime. This w:
New York gan
simply moved 0
an inter-city, j
and went right
bosses.

Leaning back
plained his idk
pointed out. ha:
tance for all i:
to airplanes fo:
combating. In
forcement, he w
to make full u-
ment’s ability t

As an exam)
Frank Costello,
New York’s “sh:
police drive ms
1934. He pron
racket in Louisi:
Long’s_ corrupt
things easy for

Costello had :
ever, last fall \
in Louisiana ind
evasion. He m:
New York woul:
men promptly a:
Siana charge, anc
bail pending his
Orleans,

He’s just one :
crime-fighter sits
building at Fole-
not afraid of th:
come up willing
of Policeman C

go down after

$75,000,¢

(Continue:

million—asg a resi
collapse.

The Gestapo ¢
abouts of Louis.
he had disappear:
Kurt von Schus
prisoner in the ~
wanted the Roths.
don to think the:
concentration cam
beaten and starve.
payment of the rz:

Up in his cage.
more nervous un
solitude and the «>

humacher came.
take away his raz

“Do you think
suicide?” Louis as!
said nothing. He
later with the razor

“We must have
said, and Louis un:
been deprived of h;
wanted a prison 1
bearded. Prisoners
more guilty if they

The mug shot wa:
a weekly paper wi!
over the photo, “Fin
article underneath
schild should be har
of being responsib!,
1931 of the Cred;

financial institution +

had governed for m:
failed to mention
had brought the co:
ruin and the crash
the job, or that I
Rothschilds had lost
investors.

This, the failure

however, was what
MARCH, 1940

t

erie ow


i

GULA & SACODA, Whites, elec, Sing Sing (NY Go.) on 1.11.1940...

Cee cee amie

BY JACK D’ARCY

| THREE WERE KIDNAPED
|) — TWO CAME BACK > |

Church bells, a movie theatre, billiard balls:
a strange combination of clues that led FBI agents

to the scene of a nearly perfect murder

-

T
T
Plai:
of th
softl

wom:

sons,
side |
ter,
Seat:
Arth
son,
were
Willi
torn:
phon
room
one
stare:
impo
It v
on the
when t
impera
his che
He saic
minute
turned
officers
“Hoy
he all
Hugi


50

promised to give me a note written by :
==Arthur. to prove it.= I’m to go to the

Bronx garage now. They’ll phone me
there with more instructions.” Then

while the prosecutor and Chief Miller ee
conferred in an undertone and Mrs, -

Fried - wept again, Hugo paced. the
floor nervously, silently praying that
his brother, Arthur, was unharmed,
Arthur Fried had been missing for
24 hours. On the evening of Decem-
ber 5th he left his mother’s White

~~ Plains home, climbed into his car and

headed for his own house in Briarcliff
Manor. Ordinarily, Fried should have
arrived there within 20 minutes. On

-this occasion, he never arrived there

at all,

Two hours after Arthur Fried had
left his mother’s house, Mrs. Fried’s
telephone rang.” A Strange, gruff voice
informed her that her’ son had been
kidnaped, . “He’s all right,” said the

‘voice. » “I’ll call you tomorrow’ night. -
. about the ransom. Have your other

son, Hugo, there. I’ll talk to him.”

As a result of the second telephone
call from the kidnaper, Hugo Fried
now set out for the garage he operated
in the North Bronx. Miller and Ferris
decided not to .accompany: him, for
fear of jeopardizing the life of the kid-
naped man. 5! 5 a8

Hugo Fried had been at the garage

.for some 20 minutes when he réceived

further instructions. A ‘voice’ on the

‘phone told him to go to a tavern on

69th Street and York. Avenue. In the
men’s room there he would find a let-
ter, stuffed in back of the towel rack.

“Get it,” said the voice: “Read it
and then burn it. Be sure you do that.

“you do,”

ey
NAG
2v,

Lok
; yes
ae.
ae os ap
<n

_~
ee

a>
%,
‘3

Someone will be watching to see that

Hugo returned. to his car and drove
into Manhattan. He found the letter,
ripped open the envelope and read it.
The handwriting was that of Arthur
Fried. The letter announced that
Arthur was well and that he was be-
ing held for $200,000 ransom. . In the
final paragraph ‘Arthur Fried pleaded

with his brother to do exactly as the °

kidnapers asked. Arthur would forfeit
his life otherwise, I :
Hugo Fried walked from the tavern

to the sidewalk. He deftly stuck the

letter in his pocket, then made a show
of burning the envelope.

the letter over to Chief Miller and
Prosecutor Ferris,

The Fried family. was comfortably
well off and Arthur Fried had a good
job as manager of the Bronx branch
of a sand and gravel company. How-
ever, $200,000 is a big sum and quite
frankly the Fried family did not have
it. :
Now that Chief Miller had positive
proof that Arthur Fried was being

“held by kidnapers, he got in touch

with the FBI agent in charge of the
New York office. This was “Reed Vet-
terli, who immediately rushed to White
Plains. .

At Vetterli’s suggestion, the Fried
telephone was tapped so that the offi-

» cers could listen in when the kidnapers

next called. In the meantime, Chief
Miller’s men canvassed the neighbor-
hood, seeking any witnesses who might
have seen the kidnaping. They found
one. He was a high school student

He drove .
. back to White Plains, where he handed

who: had been driving along Prescott
Road n the night of the kidnaping.

“TI saw a Packard coupe, followed by
a sedan. The sedan shot ahead and
cut off the Packard, forcing it to the
curb. A man got out of the sedan and
climbed into the Packard,” he reported,

Since Arthur Fried’s car was_a
Packard and already had been found
abandoned on Prescott Road, it seemed
logical that the
witnessed the kidnaping.

“Did .you recognize the make of
tue sedan?” he was asked. . “Did you
notice the license number?”

The student thought that the car had
been. either a Buick or an Oldsmobile.
He had noticed only one number and
one letter of the license plate—7N,

In the meantime, Hugo Fried was
dickering with the kidnapers. During
the next week more than half a dozen
calls were made, a fact which strongly
indicated that the criminals did ~not
suspect either that the Fried telephone
was tapped or that the FBI had en-
tered the case. .

On New Year’s Eve the story hit the
newspapers, something which no one

. had planned. The press had been told

only that Arthur Fried was missing.
The FBI had advised withholding the
true facts, the publication of which
would let the kidnapers know that the
Police had been called in.

However, on December 31st, a re-

porter, sensing a story, telepponed

Mrs. Emma Fried. Mrs. Fried, believ-

ing that her caller was one of the kid- ©
. hapers, spoke freely about their diffi-

culty in raising the ransom money.
The next day the story of the kidnap-

youth actually had’

ing \
of the

Hu;
great)
the pi
to kil
3rd, <
the |
would
Arthu
a mov
nue a
in the
at 10:

The
he mu
still li
money
receiv:
Hugo
York .

Just
uary 2
telephc
Hugo ;
said, “(
exit dc
money

“All
first Ir
eys aliv

“You

66 1
“I wan

“You
where
brother

The >
hook.
moment
that Art
had bee
of the
Pages.
back ho:
terli.

By doi
not save
though t
Fried’s
Arthur F
‘body re)
not only
had disp
well.

FBI Ci
pointed h
to work
track doy
ly the ag
mobiles :
number '
less task
such carc
clue to ti:
kidnapins
On Ap

- Benjamin

into the «
They rep:
Farber, :;
merchant,
his office,
in a car.
a note to

rf

fy own responsibility.

ad CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUN

——

é ks
30 uniform allowance
ommissioned? ”

Ten who have held a
‘ank, but who have
reserve since 1922, or
‘eceived any uniform
-hat date, are entitled
$150 uniform allow-
recommissioned.

we the ‘war service’
uft exempt? ”

When questioned
most of the depart-
congress the draft
rring such men on

“I have a herfia
h. If I get the fee
| by my draft boa¥d
tny branch of se
pt me, or must I
d irito the armyP ”
2u receive such fre.
e under no oblika.

ANXIOUS TO GET

AT ARMS PLANT
IN NEW HAVEN

New Haven, Conn., Sept. 16 ().—At
least 20 persons were injured just be-
fore midnight tonight in a mighty ex-
Plosion at the plant of the Winchester
Repeating Arms company which shook

the entire city. Coroner James J. Cor.
Tigan sald that “one girl was Injured
so badly she probably will die.” First
reports were that no one was killed.
The blast was heard as far away as
Branford, 12 miles from New Haven's

E: THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER) 17, 1942."
TIN BLAST pum ee 5
20 HURT IN BLAST

THE MEN'S STORE, MONROE AND WABASH

center, and some city. residents said
the percussion threw them from bed
as they were sleeping.

A_crowd of at least 3,000 person
gathered beyond police AN 2 pre
within a few minutes of the blast.

CASE OVER, SAYS
KILLER OF GIRLS

tm of service t

U have all of
ind any ofte
1-B classificatio
~w? T have po

he army, but you Bedford Center,

N. Y., Sept. 16 (®.
at}/—“I want to get it over with,”

round shouldered Edward Haight, 17
€; years old, mumbled\when he was ar-
of | raigned today on kidnaping and mur.
»|der charges following his confession
Fihe abducted, raped, and. killed two |

» it, bad teeth, bdd sisters, aged 7 and 8,

tendency, we

‘eral nervous dr Prison overalls,

the new list
Will be 1-A.

The youth, clad Jn soiled eee)

was held without bai! |

for the grand jury. District Attorney |

bf; Elbert Gallagher said the case would |
be presented early next week.

ae

CARSON PIRIE SCOTT & co

features

STYLES FOR YOUNG MEN
AND MEN WHO NEVER GROW OLD


Affirmed, memorandum decision, 5= NE -2nd= 237,
HAIGHT, Edward, white, electrocuted Sing Sing (Westchester County) on July 8, 193,

"Bedford Hills, Ne Ye = (UP) = Impelled by a 'sudden urge,! 17-year-old Edward Haight went
‘woman hunting! and after several failures kidnaped, tortured mntiilated and murdered two
little sisters, one seven, the other eight. Unrepentant, light-hearted even, he told state
police and District Attorney Elbert T. Gallagher early today, the details of a crime of
horrible bestiality, Satisfied of his legal sanity, Gallagher promised that his progress
to the electric chair would be swift. Gallagher's promise was partly for the benefit of
several thousand men who were in the streets of this village and who helped police search
for the body of one of the victims through most of the night. State police maintained a
heavy guard over Haight, who was charged with murder and kidnaping. The body of Helen
Lynch, 8, was found at 1 aem. in the Kenalco reservoir, which is part of the New York City
water system, The head had been crushed by an automovile wheel and her arms and legs

were bound, Haight had sat in a parked police automovile while volunteers dragged the
reservoir, making wisecracks to the guards,"

DAILY NEWS, Jackson, Mississippi, Spptember 16, 192 (1%3.)

several attempts York ahd to dismoynt and cut the rope with a hatchet. The jerk given to
he condemned man was not sufficient and he was slowly strangling, Someone in the watching
cro#d shouted: 'Why doesn' .t somebody do something?! A young doctor from Lisbon, whose name
is not known, gave the rope a yank, to hasten Gerteau. .s death, It-is recorded that public
feeling against the young doctor was so strong following the incident that he had to move

away from Lishonee.e"™

co &

}

GURTEAU, Louis (alias Conrad), hanged at Ogdensburg, N. Ye, on July 12, 1816,

The following is from a newspaper clipping, source not revealed, evidently published in
February, 192, and provided by Mrs, Mary H, Smallman, St. lawrence County Historian,
se a ee History Center, 33 East Main St., Canton, N. Y., 13617. Received on [ec.
198%
9 P

"Ogdenbburg, Feb. 23, = (By George J. Daly) = Only once has a man been hanged in the city
for murder but that crime was so horrible that, though it happened exactly 126 years ago
today, it still brings shudders to students of the city's early history, Justice was
prompt in those days as it was only four months later that the murderer paid with his life
on the gallows for his heinous crime.

"Louis Conard, also known as Jean Baptist Gerteau, was the murderer, Mrs, Michael Scare
borough, her infant child, and a French boy named Macue, Gonard s brother-inelaw, were the
vizetins,. .

"The triple murder was committed in the town of Louisville, about a mile from Massena on a
snowy, cold morning = Feb, 23, 1816, to be exact. Conard later blamed whiskey for inflamir
his emotionse

"The plot of the murder was laid a few days prior to the event when Scarborough displayed

a large sum of money in Conard's presence in a Louisville store, The murderer was living in
the vicinity at the time, He spent the night before the crime in the Scarborough barne
"Early on the morning of Feb, 23, he crept upon his unsuspecting victims, an axe in his
hand, He sneaked by “acue's bed into the room in which Mrs. Scarborough and her child

were sleeping, The husband had left home earlier in the morning on a business trip.

"The murderer found the large sum of money - $22 = and might have made his escape undetected
but, fearing he might have been observed, he decided to slay the sleepers, silencing any
alarmerSeeeces

The next paragraph is torn, but evidently he lacked the courage, according to his confess=
ion to complete the deed without taking a big drink of whiskey after which he killed the
mother, child and boyeeece

"A few hours after Conard made his escape from the house, neighbors, passihg by were sure
prised to notice the door locked and fresh steps in the snowe A glance into the window re=
vealed the triple tragedy.

"A posse started on the murderer's tracks, Drops of blood in the snow assured them that
they were on the right trail, He was overtaken about two miles from St. Regis Falls with
the money still in his picket. Returned to the scene of the crime, he broke down and
confessede

"He was brought to the Ogdensburg jail and tried on July 3, 1816, Some of the county's
earliest and most prominent citizens sat at the trial,

"Nathan Ford was the first judge, Russell Atwater and Robert Atwaber and Robert Livingston
were the associate judges, and Caleb Hough and Jason Fenton were the justices, William
Van Ness, Justice of the supreme court, presided, The verdict of guilty on three counts of
murder was brought in on short order, The execution was set for July 12, 1816, on a lot on
the southeast corner of what is now Washington and Elizabeth Streets,

"By an ironic twist, not only did the murderer take the lives of three people, but at the
gallows itself he ruined the life of another mane Joseph York, Sheriff, operated the trap
at the galows and as the murderer fell through the rope caught and instead of falling with
the force that would have broken his neck he went down graduallye

"He dangled at the end of the rope gaspinge Sheriff York called out: 'For God's sake,
can't someone put this man out of his misery. :

"A young doctor from Lisbon, standing nearby, stepped forward and gave the dangling man s
legs a terrific jerk that broke his neck and ended his life. This act so incensed resi«
dents agains the physician that he was fored to abandon his practive and leave the county

a broken man,"

The following is from another undated clipping farnished at the same time: "...lhe first
hanging took place in Ogdensburg, at the corner of Elizabeth and WashingtohhStreets where
the Jameson residence is now located. Louis Gerteau, alias Conrad, was convicted July 3,
1816, and hanged July 12 for the killing of Mrs Marcia Scarborough, her infant daughter,
Adeline, and a hired man, Jean Baptiste Manue, in the town of Louisville. Yudge William

W SS ‘ded at the trial. When the scaffold had been erected and the rope
itaced Neen ceais RS necky the sheriff, a man named York, rode upon a horse to cut the

P , Around Gerteay U
ope with a sword. tork was nervous, however, and the horse skittish, so that after

8

“T have read this statement, consisting of
two pages, and I have initialed each page
of the statement.”

OM THAT POINT ON, the G-Men’s task
became easy. Sacoda was questioned in
his Sing Sing cell, but refused to admit any
knowledge ot either of the three snatches.
Then, resting on their laurels, the G-Men
satisfied that the case was outside their jur-
isdiction, as no State lines had been crossed
in either of the three abductions, turned
their prisoners and their evidence, over to
the New York County authorities.

Sacoda and Gula, it was decided, could
not be tried on first-degree murder charges
because of the absence of a corpus delecti
—remember, Fried’s body had been com-
pletely incinerated. : ‘

But the State held an ace in the hole. It
was found that New York’s so-called Lind-
bergh Law, covered just such an emer-
gency.

Consequently, the pair were placed on
trial before General Sessions Judge John
J. Freschi and a jury, on December 12, 1938,
The death penalty was demanded for both.

In the meantime, when Sacoda learned
that his pal, Gula, had confessed, placing
the blame for the actual murder on his
(Sacoda’s) shoulders, he hastened to make
denial. ‘

On the train New York-bound from Sing

Sing in the custody of Detective Edward J.
Shields, of the Homicide Squad, Sacoda
opened up. Loe

After telling how they snatched Fried in
White Plains, took him to his home at 240
East 19th Street, and of the futile nego-
tiations for ransom with Fried’s relatives,
he continued thus: :

“That’s where these other mugs claim
we put Fried on the spot. Well, they’re
wrong. We bumped him off in the base-
ment of Ukrainian Hall and here’s exactly
how it happened:

“We're holding him for four days, see.
All the time we’re trying to get his relatives
to kick in with some dough. Finally, we
decide it’s no use and we decide to put him
on the spot.

“WW TELL Friep that we’re going down-
town to meet his brother who is com-
ing down with the ransom money, Right
away he gets so happy he starts jigging
around and kidding with us.

“We take him down and put him in the
car. He’s laughing and joking all the time.
Then we drive him over to Ukrainian Hall
and walk him through a corridor in the
basement.

“He’s still happy and we don’t give him
an idea of what we’re going to do until we
get inside the boiler room and slam the

oor.

TEXAS’ SILK STOCKING MURDER MYSTERY

Daylight found the police literally blank-
eting North Dallas. Every Negro was
stopped and questioned. Thirty suspicious
characters were rounded up and lodged
in jail.

Squad patrolmen found tracks in the
muddy creek bed of a golf course. At one
end, where a sewer was under construc-
tion, they found a pair of shoes, A milk-
man told of having chased a Negro toward
the golf course after hearing Officer Bates’
fusillade. 5

Policeman Lanford died at noon. All
available men were summoned to continu-
ous duty until his slayer was found.

HAT AFTERNOON A COLORED WOMAN told

the police a man had come to her door
shortly after daybreak and wanted his hand
bandaged. She was able to furnish a fair
description of him, although she said she
hadn’t given him aid. f

The next day searchers picked up a trail
of blood on a board fence a few dozen
yards from the woman’s house. They
went back and questioned her again, but
she was able to add little to her story of
the day before.

Into the second night the police contin-
ued their tireless search. Detectives Bob
Jones and Clarence Archer decided to play
a hunch when Jones recalled that the de-
scription of Lanford’s assailant matched
that of a Negro from whom he had ob-
tained a confession in a jewelry robbery
case in 1929. The Negro had been arrested
two weeks before on suspicion, but had
been released from jail when he convinced
the police he was “going straight” after
his penitentiary term at Huntsville. He
told them that he was jobless, but had
been given work as investigator of appli-
cants for relief on the R. F. C. made-work
projects. A graduate of the Booker T.
Washington Negro High School at Dallas,
the diminutive suspect, R. T. Bennett by

‘name, was apparently respectable.

Detectives Jones and Archer, however,

thought he might be the man they wanted.

82

They went to Bennett’s house at 1124 East
Ninth Street, Oak Cliff, several miles from
the scenes of both the Buchanan and Lan-
ford murders. They wakened him at three
o’clock Saturday morning. One of the first
things they noticed was a wound between
the second and third fingers on his right
hand.

“Got cut on a beer bottle,” the Negro
volunteered.

“Come clean,” Jones warned. “That’s no
beer bottle cut. You shot Policeman Lan-
ford. And if I take you to jail and the
policemen see that wound they might kill
you. You'd better tell me the truth.”

Recess HE THOUGHT Jones had tried to
help him four years before in the jewel
robbery case, Bennett confessed. Then
Jones and Archer, remembering that Ben-
nett was a burglar, questioned’ him about
stolen goods which he might have hidden
in the house. Bennett hesitated only a few
minutes, then directed them to a cache in
a near-by outhouse. There they found a
quantity of stolen goods, including two
diamond rings.

“Look at that,” Jones cried to Archer.
He held a ring fitting the description of
one that was missing seven months before
when Smiley Buchanan’s corpse was found.

Thirty minutes later, Bennett was in a
room at Police Headquarters under a glar-
ing drop light, with detectives bulking over
him. He had broken down and confessed
not only to the murders of Mrs. Buchanan
and Officer Lanford, but also to the mur-
derous assault on George Coffey, prosper-
our millinery manufacturer.

Bennett had been afraid to try to dis-
pose of the rings in Dallas, knowing that
all the pawnshops were under scrutiny. He
was awaiting an opportunity to take them
to some distant city, he explained.

His confession on the Buchanan murder
was complete and tallied in every detail:

“T was going east on San Jacinto Street
between five and six: o’clock in the morning
looking for an apartment to prowl,” he be-

“Then Gula pulls a roll of adhesive tape
from his pocket and plasters it over his
eyes. He puts some more tape over his
mouth.

“Then, while Fried’s back is turned, Gula
pulls out his gun and lets him have a slug
through the head. He dropped dead right
there in front of us...”

Sacoda then told of having helped strip
the dead man of his clothing and of having
placed his nude body in the fire box. ;

“It’s a hot fire and we have to keep throw-
ing on coal,” he went on. “It took us four
hours to burn the body. Then we burned
the clothes.”

Although Sacoda’s confession did not jibe
with that of Gula, the authorities were con-
vinced that they furnished a complete solu-
tion of the mysterious case and placed them
on trial.

The trial is still going on as this is writ-
ten, but in view A the pair’s confessions,
there seems to be little chance that they will
escape conviction, They seem destined for
a nice little walk over that “last mile”
through the “little green door” to Sing
Sing’s electric chair.

Jacknis and Virga will be tried as soon
as the trial of Sacoda and Gula is finished.
But it is expected they will get away with
comparatively easy sentences—perhaps life!

In any event these four must be convinced
that CRIME DOESN’T PAY!

From page 13

gan his gruesome confession.

“I stopped at the brick apartment in
front of the nurses’ home near Hall Street.
I shined my flashlight into a window of the
apartment and saw a lady lying on the bed.
She was in the room by herself. I opened
the screen with an ice pick and entered
through the window.

‘““T“HE WOMAN WAS LYING on the bed in her

pajamas. I looked around the room. I
found five dollars in a purse in the vanity
drawer. She had two rings on her fingers.
I saw the rings on her fingers as I walked
over to the bed after taking the five dol-
lars out of the purse.

“T picked up a pair of stockings which
were lying on the floor, tied them together
at the ends, wrapped them around her neck
and pulled the ends for about ten minutes.
I held her down on the bed to keep her
from kicking loose from me.

“When she became unconscious I put her
on the floor and assaulted her. I took her
pajamas off first. After I assaulted her I
put a pillow under her head and covered
her with a piece of the bed clothes. I took
the two rings off her fingers.

“While I was in the apartment I saw a
pint whisky bottle about two thirds full of
whisky on the floor by the bed and two
whisky glasses,

‘| POURED OUT a glass of whisky and
drank it and went out of the building
through the hallway, leaving the door open.
Before I left the room I wrote a note on
the back of a yellow or orange laundry
slip and put it on the vanity.

“T wrote, ‘So you don’t love me, eh?’ or
something to that effect.

“I weighted this note down with one
dice about one or one and a half inches
square.”

Then he obligingly unravelled the Lan-
ford mystery also. His confession to that
murder was even more detailed:

“T left home in the early part of the
night of June twenty-eighth and went to

North Dal
to prowl a .
so I walked
cided to pro\
“T picked
of this hous:
anything out
tering a roo:
up and went
around and
house screan
“When she
started back
I first decide
my way bac
about in the
I saw the oi
through a yz
“When |
the driveway
When the o
fired at him
think I hit t!
When he fel
on Capitol S:
I saw the ra
branch, stay
“Just as
scene of the
me (this wa
down to the
of him. I \
until I got t
ington.

“THE TWO

ington «
and I ran ti
alley. One «
A. Bates w
was going ti
igo the yar
I turned to
hand.

“T ran ar
a yard and
wanted to *
turned ar
into Coch
land and
hid the gun
at the back
car and wei

“T got ho:
street car <
wrapped a
where I ha
in my pock

“T pulled
the creek 1
tives accon
and the sh
that I wor
The pistol
out of a bt
or three mo
nue.

“After b
officers, sh
it after shc

USTICE M
killer—t
trusted by
the day tin
by night.
ject of wid:
Charged
was indictec
jurors the 1
murder of
Friday, jus
Officer La:
marksmans
Police 0:
Had Bates
bullets “g«
died with |
his heart .
others whi


GULA, Demetrius and SACODA, Jéseph Se, whites, electrocuted Sing Sing (N.¥.) on 1/11/19),0

Months after Arthur Fried

fe Seger

x
e
’

* Ukrainian Hall, New York City.

(below), wealthy White Plains,
New York, man disappeared,
Federal agents and police un-
masked a band of kidnapers in

(Right) Officers dig for clues
in hall basement

Be p ge i a Lage a ee b if 4 , aN,

Breaking the

“KIDNAP TRU

WW?’

MASTER DETECTIVE, March, 1939.

. EDGAR HOOVER, Director of the Federal Bureau
of Investigation, was seated behind the desk in_the
austerely furnished office in the New York City Fed-
eral Building. The members of the press who were
ushered into the room did not know why they were summoned.

Hoover came directly to the point. 7

“Gentlemen, we have solved three New York kidnapings.
One of them is murder,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

For a moment there was silence as the astounding nature
of the statement sank in. Then Hoover continued, describ-
ing in detail the spine-chilling deeds perpetrated by the New
York “kidnap trust.”

It began on the night of December 5th, 1937, when Arthur
Fried, thirty-two, manager of the Bronx plant of the Colonial
Sand and Gravel Company and a member of a wealthy White
Plains, New York, family, went to the movies with his wife,
sister, and brother-in-law. After the show, he was driven to
his mother’s twenty-room home where he was to pick up his
own car and follow.

Fried, a slight, dapper man with an olive complexion,
climbed into his own machine. The one containing his wife
pulled away. Four hours later, his car was found abandoned
near a tavern on Mamaroneck Avenue. The family, frantic
with worry over his non-appearance, notified the police. At
four A. M. the telephone rang.

“Don’t worry about Arthur,” a gruff voice said. “He’s had
too much to drink, but he'll be all right. You'll hear from
him in a day or two.”

Before any questions could be asked, the caller hung up.

The following day the first of a series of ransom notes was
received. It demanded $200,000 on pain of death. Later
negotiations whittled this figure down to $50,000. The vic-
tim’s brother, Hugo, who served as intermediary, went to a
midtown Manhattan bar, found the kidnapers’ directions on
a shelf in the washroom, and proceeded to the Loew’s Com-
modore in downtown Manhattan where he was to contact
the men who held his brother prisoner.

When they failed to furnish satisfactory proof that Fried
was alive and in their possession, Hugo left without making
the payment. Although he did not know it at the time, his
brother was already dead.

Months later, a minute after midnight on March 23rd,
1938, Norman Miller, nineteen, was seized by two armed men
as he Jeft a Brooklyn motion pieture show He was held in

a eae 27 ee ee

Manhattan. The kidnapers asked $100,000 ransom, but later
reduced it to $13,000. This »mount was placed in a garbage
container at 23rd Street and First Avenue the following morn-
ing, and the youth was released.

A month later, Benjamin Farber, a coal merchant, was
snatched in broad daylight as he sat in his car in front of
the Brighton Beach branch of the National City Bank. He
was released the same night when an intermediary tossed
$1,900 over the side of the Williamsburg Bridge at the signal
of a member of the moh who stood below.

It was Norman Miller’s keen ears which furnished the
first lead. He had heard church bells, a swing program, and
the clicking of pool balls. Trained G-men ran down the clues
of these assorted sounds, traced them to Ukrainian Hall, a
dingy dance-hall on Manhattan’s lower East Side. Three
frequenters of the place, Demetrius Gula, thirty, the father of
a son, and whose own father owns a concession in the hall;
William Jacknis, twenty-seven, a WPA children’s instructor;
and John Virga, thirty-four, the father of two children, were
suspected. These men were trailed for months before they
were arrested. All three were indicted for the kidnaping of
Miller and Farber, while Gula and Joseph Sacoda, a fourth
member of the gang, who had in the meantime been cent
back to Sing Sing for violation of parole, were indicted for the
Fried kidnaping.

It was Sacoda’s confession which told what had happened
to the missing victim. He said Fried was blindfolded and
Gula put a bullet through his head. The body was stripped
and placed in the huge blazing furnace at the Ukrainian
Hall. It took two days to complete the cremation. Gula’s
confession bore this out in all but one detail—he said that
it was Sacoda who fired the shot.

Despite the absence of the corpus delicti making a mur-
der charge against them untenable, the fact that New York
State passed a “Lindbergh Act” making kidnaping a eapital
offense where the victim is not produced before the trial,
places Gula and Sacoda in the shadow of the electric chair,

On December 15th, 1938, the trial of the two ringleaders
opened in General Sessions Court in New York City, before
Judge John J. Freschi. J. Edgar Hoover took the stand. As
this issue goes to press a verdict has not been reached.

However, startling new disclosures that these men were
part of an insurance-murder syndicate, as well as principals
in the kidnap trust, have come to light.

ae

A

Mystery of the Missing Chef

[Continued from page 25]

Sobs shook her shoulders and I felt as
awkward as a horse.

After waiting for her to regain control
of herself I gently began asking ques-
tions.

“You said that your husband was driv-
ing his car on the day he left home,” I
began. “Now will you please give me a
description of the car, and if you have
them with you, the license and motor
numbers?”

The woman said she would have to
return home for the numbers I wanted.
She did describe the car closely, though.

I told her that I would get the desired
numbers from the highway department in
Springfield.

When I had the numbers I wanted from
Springfield, I sent out a general pickup
order to all surrounding counties, and to
the state police.

On the morning of Dec. 29, I got results.

A phone call came from State Highway
Patrolman Horace M. Hudspeth, at
Petersburg, Ill. He said that he had found
the car I had been seeking.

I drove to Petersburg as fast as pos-
sible.

But when Hudspeth pointed out the
car, I was disappointed. Somehow, this
car didn’t exactly answer the description
I had. The wheels were black, not orange
colored and there was no spare.’ Also,
the hub caps were all in place.

Hudspeth pointed to the wheels. “Right
there is what aroused my suspicion,” he
said.

And then I saw what had been done.
The car had been painted but Hudspeth

had detected flecks of orange paint on
the wheels where stones had knocked
part of the new black coating from the
wire spokes.

We called the manager of the garage
and he told us that a man named George
Grimes had left the car there. It was
only a matter of minutes to locate Grimes.
And this‘man said that he had traded for
the Ford sometime before.

He produced a bill of sale and as this
was before the title law in Illinois, it was
perfectly legal as far as he was concerned.

The name of Ray Gillmore appeared on
the bill of sale as the seller and his address
was given as Kilbourne, III.

At last it looked as if I was getting a
break in this case. I removed the car to

Havana and sent for Mrs. Durkin again. |

She identified the Ford at once despite
the effort that had been made to disguise

it.

Now I had to tell her that I thought
something serious had happened to her
husband. She took the news with admir-
able restraint, saying that she had had
time to think things over and was pre-
pared for the worst.

I examined the seats of the car and
found some brownish stains. Scraping
some of the substance into an envelope, I
sent it to Springfield to learn whether it
was human blood. My belief was soon
confirmed.

When I went to Kilbourne I learned
that Ray Harrison Gillmore lived out in
the country. I determined to arrest him
at once. I believed I was drawing near
the end of my first big case.

TWO LAST MILES—1,000 MILES APART

On March 1 the Oklahoma chair claimed Roy Mannon, left, killer in Nov.,

1938, of Jake Skelly, aged Wagoner astrologer (DYNAMIC DETECTIVE

Nov., 1939). Shortly before, Demetrius Gula, right, one of the kidnap-

slayers in Dec., 1937, of Arthur Fried, New York contractor (DYNAMIC DE-
TECTIVE Sept., 1938), died at Sing Sing.

46

1 knew, of course, that Gillmore might
show a bill of sale from Durkin and ex-
plode my whole case in my face. But
nevertheless, I took State's Attorney
Barnes and that night we drove to the
Gillmore home,

Barnes told me that I was taking a
chance on making myself look foolish but
I argued that had Durkin merely sold his
car he certainly would not have thrown
away all his clothes.

And why hadn't he written to his wife,
especially when they had a young baby at
home?

It didn't make sense to me that a man
who was past 45 years of age would just
suddenly run away for no reason at all.

So I felt sure that Gillmore was guilty
of some crime and one more serious than
car theft. But I was going to go about
it easily. I'd alt to trick him into an
admission, if he was guilty. For I had
nothing but the thinnest sort of circum-
stantial evidence and not one bit of proof
of a crime.

We found the young man in bed and
he made no protest when he learned the
sheriff wanted to talk to him.

I told him that I merely wanted to
question him about the car deal he had
made, saying that Grimes was dissatis-
fied. This. seemed to sound all right to
the Gillmore family and we started for
Havana with our prisoner. I was driving
and Gillmore sat in the rear seat with the
state’s attorney,

As we drove slowly on the rough coun-
try road, no mention was made of the real
object of our visit. But when I reached
the concrete highway I could take my at-
tention from my driving a little and I
began to talk about the trade Gillmore
had made with Grimes.

“I don’t see what he has to holler
about,” growled the youth. “I think I’m
the ore who got hooked.”

“By the way,” I said, “how much did
you give Durkin for the flivver?”

For a moment there was silence from
the back seat.

“Oh, I traded a lot of stuff and gave
him some money to boot,” Gillmore an-
swered, but I thought I detected a tremor
in his voice. ‘“Why, Sheriff? You don’t
think I stole Jim's car do you?”

“Oh, no, of course not. But the fact
of the matter is, Durkin’s wife is not
satisfied with the ‘deal. And you know,
Ray, that you haven’t shown us any bill of
sale for the car yet.”

“Oh, I got one all right though,” came
the answer from the young farmer. “I

“reckon Pa can bring it in tomorrow.”

I wondered if this was a bluff, or if
Gillmore really could produce a signed
bill of sale. If he did, I failed to see how
I was going to hold him. A proper bill
of sale would wreck my entire theory.
But something told me that it was a
bluff and I determined to call his hand.

We drove on for another mile, then I
opened up again.

“Ray, just why did you paint the car
when you knew you were going to sell it?
And why did you take the spotlight off?”

Once more there was a painful silence
for sometime. Then the suspect answered.
“Oh, I didn't like the color and I traded
the spotlight for some gas- one night.”

I let him stew for a while after that. I

knew he was worried and he kept getting |

more nervous
we knew sor
that the silen
he would ima
than we did.
After all,
thing unless
know whethe
Gillmore mic
he might ha:
clothes away
that Jim Du:
Gillmore eit!
thing about
more to wor
“Was Jim
changed the
throw them
“Throw t
“Why they
where.”
“Why did
dollars’ wo
quickly.
There wa
him then.
I just let hi:
had answer:
caps I kne.
still couldn’
river bank
when he m
been remo\
I drove
complete s:
did it for I
the entire
he had ke
have never
“Ray,” I
stand your
selling it b
I heard
breath wit
“T had tc
me.”
Quickly
said, turni
pected th:
tough guy
get him s
hadn't as 3
use.
“You're
ster, “we
was drivii

———_


Ee eR ea eT eT Eee a Te Ly het eT eT Cn ek ee a eS Sto ee ME CNT Cre Mr ree Se RM pm me

GULA, Demetrius & SACODA, Joseph S., whs, elec. NY (NY) Jeauary 11, 1940

en

A MAN VANISHES AND THE CLUES ARE
MEANINGLESS— UNTIL J. EDGAR HOOVER
BEGINS TO MASTERMIND THE FBIS...

BY ERIC GREYWOOD

B*. 4 O'CLOCK in the morning everyone had stopped
talking, stopped wondering out loud what could have
happened to Arthur. They just sat waiting, in an appre-
hensive cluster, in the vast, old-fashioned living room.
Arthur’s wife sat tense and his mother cried softly. The
men, solemn-faced, had wondered for a while if this hasty
gathering of the clan wasn’t so much nonsense, but as the
hours dragged by they too began to have their fears.

At 4:30 a., the telephone rang. Mrs. Fried leaped for
it and picked up the receiver. “Oh, darling,” she said in-
stantly, “we’ve been waiting and wondering—”

Her bright look of relief fled as a voice stopped her
rush of words. She listened anxiously, answered in mono-
syllables. There was a sudden sharp click at the other end
and the receiver dropped from her hand.

“Arthur has been kidnaped,” she said tonelessly. Her
brother-in-law caught her as she fainted.

Arthur Fried had had only a short trip to make. At
11:40 that night he had left his mother’s mansion in White
Plains to drive the few miles to his own home in the
Briarcliff Manor Apartments, phoning his wife just before
he left. When he didn’t arrive by midnight she was
surprised; at 12:15 she became uneasy; and an hour and
a half later she was frightened.

She called elderly Mrs. Fried’s home and found that he
had left as scheduled. She had seen him climb into his
Packard coupe and turn off the driveway into Sound View
Avenue, headed homeward. Arthur was punctual as
clockwork, so both women had a right to their anxiety.
“Come right over here, dear,” his mother said. “Ill get
Hugo and the others. They’ll know what to do.”

So Mrs. Arthur Fried drove to her mother-in-law’s
and soon all the brothers and sisters and in-laws were
assembled. The mother had an intuition that something
was desperately wrong, and to her children her word, or
her whim, was law.

Now, at 4:30 a.m., they knew the worst.

When Mrs. Fried was revived she told them that the
rasp-voiced man on the phone had said Arthur was alive,
and that if they wanted him to stay alive they must not
inform the police. The man had said to await instructions,
that he would contact them the next day.

Hugo had his own ideas about that. He got on the phone
and called the police, aware of the fact that time was
essential in a case like this.

MASTER DETECTIVE,
SEP TEMBER, 1954

Within half an hour a squad car of the White Plains
police discovered Arthur’s Packard coupe abandoned in
front of a tavern on Mamaroneck Avenue. A police tow-
car brought it in for inspection by laboratory technicians,
who found that it had been wiped clean of all prints, even
the owner’s. Later, when the proprietor of the tavern
opened up for the day, police questioned him about the
car. He said he had noticed it when he left early that
morning, but did not know whose it was, nor had he
noticed anything suspicious the night before.

When District Attorney Walter Ferris and Police Chief
William Miller were notified of the disappearance, they
hurried to the Fried home. Ordinarily the report of a
person missing for such a short time is regarded by police
as routine, and even the kidnap report might be open to
suspicion as a prank or the imaginings of anxious loved
ones. But these were not ordinary circumstances: the
Frieds were wealthy, each branch of the family, and their
devotion to each other was well known. Their accumu-
lated collateral could provide a lush ransom.

Pending the second call from the kidnaper, Ferris and
Miller checked into the family background, trying to
ferret out possible reasons for Arthur’s disappearance in
case the kidnaping threat should prove a hoax.

He was, they found, a devoted husband. His accounts
at the Colonial Sand and Gravel Co., whose Bronx office
he managed, were in perfect shape. He had drawn no
unusually large amounts from his bank recently, so it was
assumed that he had not taken off for reasons of his own.
A check with his doctor revealed that he was in sound
physical and mental health, and the usual canvass of
hospitals and hotels failed to locate him.

There was, Ferris and Miller decided, nothing to do
but wait.

At midnight the telephone rang, and as the family circle
and police officers watched, Mrs. Fried picked up the
instrument.

“Pyt Hugo Fried on the phone,” the voice rasped.

Hugo took the phone and he was immediately asked if
he had called the police. He said he hadn’t, and he was
instructed to proceed to the garage which he owned in
the North Bronx.

“T’ll call you there,” the man said, and hung up.

Chief Miller immediately notified New York police,
since the Bronx was outside his jurisdiction, and they

i. 2

MANHATTAN


iet way.
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Daniels,
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{YSTERIES

By MICHAEL

STERN

Special Investigator

for TRUE DETECTIVE

It was after an evening spent
at a movie with his wife (oppo-
site page) that Arthur Fried
(circle below) mysteriously dis-
appeared. Strange telepnone
messages kept his family in
constant fear for days. (Right)
The huge furnace in the Uk-
rainian Hall at 219 East Sixth
Street, New York City, where a
barbarous crime was committed

ererwRen, 130

re


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| stamps, and’ these were peed to Gula.

After long questioning, Gula broke. Not,
only had the mob snatched Norman Miller
and Benjamin Farber, but it had kid-
naped and murdered Arthur Fried.

“But I didn’t blast Risa Gula -whined.

“Who did?”

“Joe Sacoda.”

Sacoda, 27, had a robbery conviction
on his record. He was picked up, and three
days later J. Edgar Hoover himself an-
nounced that the East’s most vicious
snatch gang had been smashed and that
all four suspects had confessed.

Sacoda and Gula ‘said they had killed

Fried in the basement of the Ukranian

Hall and cremated his body in the fur-
nace. Federal agents and city police sifted
the ashes in the firebox and ashbin, but
found nothing they could prove was part
of the body.

How could the prosecution proceed with
a murder charge minus a corpus delicti?
A recently enacted New York criminal
statute: made it possible for the state to
ask for the death penalty in the case. The
law provided that in the case of a kidnap-
ing, where the victim had not been found,

it could be presumed he had been slain.’

The four abductors were arraigned in
felony court before Magistrate Thomas A.
Aurelio, who from the bench commended
Norman Miller for his courage ‘and cool
thinking in using his sense of hearing
to garner the clues that revealed the kid-
napers’ hangout. ?

Gula and Sacoda were brought to trial
first, charged with the kidnap-slaying of
Fried. The defense counsel attacked the
state’s case with the assertion that a body

could not be thrust inte the furnace in |.

the hall because the door was too small.
However, the district attorney was able
to introduce in evidence a photograph
showing two of his aides in the firebox
and peering out of the door.

The two defendants were found guilty
and sentenced to die in Sing Sing’s elec-
tric chair. One of the principal witnesses
against them had been Walter Janovich,
who turned state’s evidence.

Gula and Sacoda were tried also, to-
gether with Virga and Janovich, for the
abductions of Miller and Farber. All ex-
cept Virga pleaded guilty. On the witness
stand Benjamin Farber identified Virga
.as a kidnaper who got into his car a short
time after the first gunman entered it.

The courtroom was packed as the case
went to the jury in Judge John J. Fres-
chi’s General Sessions court. Many police-
men were there, their hands: near their
guns. It had been rumored that Virga’s
S rogaabag cronies would try to spring

im

Virga was found guilty and Judge: Fres-
chi sentenced him to from 50. years to life
in Sing Sing. Because he was on parole
at the time, he could not be eligible for
another parole for 45 years.

Janovich was rewarded for helping in
the prosecution of the others. He got off
with a five to ten-year term.

In November of 1940 Gula, and Sacoda
walked the last mile from the “dance hall”
in Sing Sing into the death chamber,
paying with their lives for the cremation
of the first kidnap victim, Arthur Fried.
’ If Norman Miller hadn’t used his wits
—and his ears—the mobsters doubtless
would have added other victims to their
toll. The plucky young man proved that
alert citizens cooperating with law en-
forcement authorities, can help write off
crime as a decidedly unprofitable
business.

Eprror’s Note: To spare embarrassment
to a man who has paid his*debt to society
for his crime, the name Walter Janovich,
used in this story, is fictitious.

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and the Flaming To

HE sedan pulled to the curb and
came to a halt in front of the
gabled mansion on Soundview
Avenue in White Plains, New
York. A short, dapper man got out of
the back seat. His dark hair and olive
complexion served to obscure his fea-
tures in the blackness of the night.
A chill wind which blew in from
Long Island Sound made him bury his

chin in the upturned lapels of his over- -

coat as he started up the graveled drive-
way.

The man was Arthur Fried. At thirty-
four this scion of «a wealthy family was
already manager of the Colonial Sand
& Gravel Company’s Bronx branch, and
well-to-do in his own right.

The smartly clad woman in the rear of
the car he had just vacated was his
wife In front sat his sister, Elsie, and
her husband, Harold Daniels, a success-
ful building financier. The two couples
had been to a local movie show and
now, at eleven-forty Pp. m., had stopped
before the twenty-room home of Fried’s
mother so that Arthur could pick up the
Packard coupé he had parked there be-
fore the show. :

Daniels heard his brother-in-law climb
into his car, slam the door and kick the
starter. Then he himself slipped the
gear into first speed and headed for his
home a few blocks distant. Arthur was
to follow and join the others there.

An hour passed but Arthur Fried did
not put in an appearance. In order to
allay his wife’s fears Daniels left his
home at Ogden Avenue and drove to
the Soundview Avenue mansion. He
could find no trace of either Fried or
his car, nor had his mother, Mrs. Emma
Fried, seen him. A check at the Briar-
cliff Manor apartment revealed that he
had not shown up there.

At two o’clock on that morning of
December 5th, 1937, Chief of Police Wil-
liam Miller was notified, and he ordered
the squad cars to scour, the vicinity in
a search for the missing man.

The suddenness of the mysterious dis-
appearance had left the family almost
speechless. There seemed to be no logi-
cal explanation for it. Had there been
an accident, they would have received
word from a hospital. Kidnaping seemed
a remote idea, for Arthur was an inoffen-

sive person who lived in a quiet way.
Amnesia, that strange psychosis that
causes a person to unaccountably for-
get his identity, might conceivably have

been the cause, although nothing in the |

missing man’s behavior gave any in-
dication of this.

By four a.m. worry had turned to
active fear. Most members of the Fried
family were now seated in the large
living-room in the home of the missing
man’s mother, anxiously awaiting re-
ports from the police.

~The phone rang and Elsie Daniels,
whe was sented close to it, jerked up the
receiver before the first ring had died.

“Hello,” she said eagerly.

“Mrs. Fried?” It was a clear, concise
voice. As closely as age can be judged
from a voice, the speaker was a man in
his late twenties or early thirties.

“This is Mrs. Fried,” Mrs. Daniels
answered quickly.

“Your husband is down here in the
Bronx, very drunk.”

The missing man’s sister was shocked.
“Let me speak to him.”

“First you must answer this ques-
tion. There is something puzzling me
concerning a license plate.”

“What is it?” she asked anxiously.
“Can I talk to Arthur? Is he all right?”

“TISTEN,” the voice spoke quickly, ig-

noring her questions. “If I don’t call
back in forty-five minutes, go to sleep.
T’li call you in the morning.”

Then there was a dull click. “Hello,
hello,” Mrs. Daniels called, jiggling the
hook, but she was on a dead wire.

The telephone call only served to in-
crease their fears. It was obvious that
the caller had lied, for Arthur, fastidious
in his personal habits to the point of
eccentricity, never touched liquor. What
then was the purpose of the phone call?
What was the strange reference to a
license plate? The Fried family could
find no reasonable explanation and they
refused to credit the horrible thought
that now had dawned.

A squad car located the abandoned
Packard coupé, parked in front of the
Rosedale Gardens on Mamaroneck Ave-
nue. The tavern proprietor was ques-
tioned but he had seen nothing sus-
picious the night hefore, nor had he seen

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

By MI¢
STE

Special |
for TRUE

It was after

at a movie wit
site page) tl
(circle below )
appeared. ¢
messages ker
constant fear

The huge fu:
rainian Hall <
Street, New Y
barbarous crir

DECK VRER, Tang


Pas

any one park Fried’s car near his place.
On one point he was emphatic; the miss-
ing man had had no drinks in his tavern,
nor had he been there at all, for that.
matter.

In the morning, District Attorney
Walter Ferris arrived and took charge
of the questioning.

“Was there any reason why Mr. Fried
might have wished to absent himself?”
he asked.

“None at all,” Mrs. Fried replied.

“How much, money did he have on his
person ?”

“About twenty-five dollars.”

“Did he make any large withdrawals
from the bank recently?”

“No sir.”

“What do you think has happened to
him?”

“J don’t know,” Mrs. Fried sobbed,
tears welling in her eyes.

“Didn’t anything that happened last
night arouse your suspicions?”

She shook her head.

A day of agonizing doubt dragged
slowly by. The missing man’s wife, on
the verge of collapse, was stretched on
a divan in the living-room of the Sound-
view Avenue mansion, when, at a minute
past midnight, the telephone rang, An-
nette Roth, another of Arthur Fried’s
sisters, answered. it.

“NET this straight,” a voice said swift-

ly. “I’ll telephone the Fried Brothers
Garage in an hour and a half.” The
caller hung up abruptly.

“Who was it?” Hugo Fried, a brother,
asked.

Annette was still bewildered. “I don’t
know. He said he was going to call
your garage in an hour and a half.”

“What else did he say?”

“Nothing. He hung right up.”
"Hugo, dark, | shrewd-eyed, pondered
the significance of this call. The entire
family looked to him for aid in this
emergency. Hugo, once the black sheep
of the family, was wise in the wiys of
the world. On two occasions, he had

18

Outside the home of his mother at Soundview Avenue,
White Plains (left) Fried stepped into his own car,
drove away—and vanished without a trace. (Above)
The Rat, member of the sinister kidnap combine

served time in Sing Sing Prison. In
July of 1929, he had been convicted of
criminally receiving a stolen automo-
bile and in 1935, he was again convicted,
this time, for receiving 138 cases of ciga-
rettes.

He rose to his feet, walked to the
chair in which his mother sat. “Don’t
worry,” he said, putting his arm on her
shoulder. “I'll bring Arthur back.”

“Tf I only knew what had happened
to him,” she wept.

“Tt’s probably some kind of a joke,”
he said, though he did not believe his
own words. He guessed that his mother
did not believe them, either, but she
ser grateful for his effort to encourage
ner.

Since Hugo’s garage is located in the
Bronx, northernmost borough in New
York City, Chief of Police Miller noti-
fied the authorities there, and two Bronx
detectives joined a couple of his men,
while they awaited the call.

The appointed time passed, and Hugo,
seated in the swivel chair in the ga-
rage office, fidgeted nervously. At 1:45
A. M. the phone-rang. He took a deep
breath and lifted the receiver to his

ear.

“Hello, Fried?”

“Yes,” Hugo responded.

“Listen to me. Go up to York Avenue,
turn right to 79th Street . . v

“Who am I talk—” Hugo tried to
break in.

“You do as I tell you if you want to
make contact,” the voice cut him short
angrily. “Don’t go over twenty miles
an hour. After you come on to 79th
Street then turn left at Amsterdam Ave-
nue and go to 69th Street, where you
will see Kelly’s Bar and Grill. Come
alone. Go in there and wait for a call.
Your name is Roberts.”

“All right,” Hugo said, replacing the
receiver. So it was a kidnaping. Al-
though the thought had been lodged
back in his mind, he had refused to give
it eredence.’ He couldn’t understand why
any one would pick on his brother.

The father of an eight-year-old son,
Arthur lived in an unpretentious man-
ner. Certainly there were dozens of
richer residents in this exclusive com-
munity on the northern outskirts of
New York City, who would be more apt
to attract the attention of a_ kidnap
gang—people the snatchers could be cer-
tain would be able to raise a large ran-
som.

This last thought gave Hugo pause.
There was no doubt in his mind about
his brother having been snatched. But
he saw the possibility that the under-
world was holding him not for ransom,
but as a decoy to place Hugo himself in
a vulnerable position. It would explain
the mysterious reference to the license
plates in the first telephone conversa-
tion, Both Arthur and Hugo drove
Packard coupés. The victim’s license
number was BM]26, his brother’s BM12.
Perhaps .when they took Arthur, they
thought they were grabbing Hugo.

UGO had a real affection for his
younger brother and was determined
not to permit these considerations to
stand in the way. If this were a bona-fide
kidnaping, over-caution on his part
might result in the murder of Arthur.

Hugo explained to the four detectives
present in the garage what had taken
place.

“J want you men to hold off until |
finish dealing with the mob,” he said
grimly. “I want my brother back alive.”

The only coucession he made to his
own safety, was to have his brother,
Dick, and Pete Sasso, the family chauf-
feur, accompany him. Hugo climbed
behind the wheel of his coupé, backed
out of the garage and sped south. Then
he swerved to York Avenue. When he
reached the broad thoroughfare which
skirts the East River, he reduced his
speed to twenty miles an hour, in keep-
ing with the kidnaper’s instructions.

The streets were fairly deserted at this
early morning hour, When he turned
right, onto 79th Street, he peered hard

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

(Abo
The «
was <
Later

in the mirrc
lowing.

The detec
cuitous route
et him and
their station
Bar and Gr

Hugo pull
below the b
slowly tows
parked) cars
no occupant
vated struct
a dreary car
stood at. the
versing in |
they lookec
their talk.
tubles were
red to arous:
up to the |
tender glan:
look on his

“TLL have
tender -
telephone c:
“Not as 1
At that
“Maybe
bertender ¢
Hugo hut
the door be!
“Hello,” |
“Roberts”
“Yes”
“You list
nght. Wh
beeth, turn
night again
There is a
tewel rack
walk back 1
v.06 Then
Burn it an:
to the gata:
it?”
“Yes,” H
hung up. |
clipped) voi
whom he h:

DECEMBER, 1!


ox

—_~-

ee
——

ulled up in front of the offices of the
ijax Coal Company. Mishkin was hus-
tled_out. ;

“Open the door!” the leader’ com-
manded, pointing. y

Mishkin reached into his trousers pocket
for his key ring, but the leader quickly
grabbed his arm.

“No, you don’t,” he warned. Expertly
he patted the victim’s pocket to make
sure he had no weapon, then permitted
him to dig in for the door key.

When the door had been opened, the
two gangsters hurried him inside. One
—— on a dim desk-light.

“You know what we're after,” the lead-
er grinned.

Mishkin knew without being told. He
walked over to the corner, got down,
twirled the tumblers on the safe door
until they fell in line, then twisted the
handle and swung thé door open.

The leader calmly cleaned out the cash
box and dumped the contents on the desk
under the light. He seated’ himself and
slowly counted the amount. There was

$1,300.
“WT’s a lucky thing for you that you’ve

got this money here,” he said. “If you .

didn’t you’d lose more.”

“What do you mean?”
_ “We'd take you along with us and then
it might cost you a lot more, if you get
what I mean.” :

A cold chill ran up “Mishkin’s spine.
Somchow he felt that the white-faced
thug who sat under the lamp, grotesque
shadows making him look even more sin-
ister, was telling the truth. «| ‘

The leader rose slowly to his feet, stuffed
the cash into his overcoat’ pocket. “You
better be a good boy,” he’ said ra
“or we'll be coming back for you.” With
that the two thugs hastily jumped into
the waiting car and sped away.

Mishkin notified the police immediately,
but the thugs made good their —
+» Questioned by the detectives from the lo-
cal precinct, the coal patag Pea manager
could ascribe no reason ior his beimg
visited a second time. It had been too
dark for him to see. the : license pate
number. Since there were no new eads
and since he had already been —
the Rogues Gallery file without result,
there appeared to be little hope that the
new investigation would be any more suc-
cessful than the first. The local detectives
requestioned Mishkin, but could gather
no additional information which would
be of aid. Thereafter a close watch’ was
kept on his office. \ gute ae

Unfortunately the FBI could not know
that these crimes had been committed by
the cold-blooded murderers of , Arthur

Fried. With modern day kidnaping, run- -

ning along the same lines as big business,
there has to be a substantial cash invest-
ment by the criminal before an abduc-
tion is committed. If the Federal agents
had had any way of knowing that these
were the crimes the same killers commit.
ted to make a new stake, the end would
have been swifter. |
* * *

It was shortly before eight A. M. on
April 18th, that the telephone rang in the
Brooklyn home of Benjamin Farber, a
curly-haired, pleasant faced, prosperous
coal merchant of thirty-three. He raised
the receiver to his ear.

“Mr, Reilly, please,” a voice said.

“Who is that you want?” Farber asked.

“Mr. Reilly.” er

“J’m sorry, but you have the wrong
number,” and with that he hung up.

A wrong number is a,common occur-
rence and so the incident had already
been forgotten when ‘he left his home at
eight-thirty. It was a mild spring day

118

B icscnspihcaeptedt

and Farber carried his topcoat draped
over his arm. Climbing into his Chevrolet
sedan he drove to the local branch of
the National City Bank located on the
south side of Brighton Beach Avenue
between Sixth and Seventh Streets. He
had been at the Jamaica race track the
previous day and his bookie had paid off
a, ‘winning selection with a $100 bill. Far-
ber intended ergy it at the bank.
But since the latter did not open until
nine o’clock, he walked across the street
to a barber shop, seated himself in the
upholstered chair and ordered a shave.
By the time the barber had finished with
him, the bank had opened and Farber
recrossed the street and changed the bill.

He climbed into his car and just as he
stepped on the starter, a voice called out,
“Hey, Benny!”

Farber turned his head, watched in
amazement as a tall, slim, long-nosed man
opened the door and climbed in beside
him. The suddenness of the intruder’s
appearance and his unusual action in

climbing into a stranger’s car came as less

of a shock to Farber than did his one
glimpse at the intruder’s face. In his own
words, “It was so pale he looked like a
ghost.” +

“What are you doing here?” the coal
merchant asked with some warmth.

“We're going for a ride.”

“That’s what you think,” Farber re-
torted.

“Sure,” the intruder replied calmly
“that’s what I think.” A gun slid out o
the pocket of his light camel’s hair top-
coat. It was a 38 caliber weapon with
a long, blue steel barrel. The gunman
holding it low out of view of any pos-
sible passer-by, jammed it into Farber’s

thigh,
“Start riding,” he ordered.

PrARBER ag tr his wits about him. Even
though his life was in danger, his mind
worked swiftly. The fact that he had
just come out of the bank might mean
that this was a stickup. If that were
the case, then why didn’t this gunman
relieve him of his wallet. Besides, the
gunman’s actions did not bespeak a stick-
up man, Whatever his purpose might be,
the fact that he was ordering Farber to
drive to another spot meant that he
could not accomplish it very well where
they were. Dozens of people stood about
in the sunlit street. Traffic eddied by the
arked car. Perhaps the gun was a bluff.

he thug wouldn’t dare pull anything
in this crowded section, If it was a
bluff, two could play the same game,
Farber decided. He disregarded the order
to move.

Evidently the pasty-faced gunman
sensed the thought that coursed through
Farber’s mind. “I’d hate to have to kill
you over so small a matter,” he said
glibly.

“What do you mean?” Farber countered.

“You’ve had a little trouble with your
union at the coal yard,” was the reply.
“You better come along with me and
straighten it out.”

It is a well-known fact that in the past
some unscrupulous labor leaders have used
violence to enforce their demands. In
view of this, the explanation struck Farber
as being plausible.

He pushed the gear lever into first speed
and pulled into the stream of traffic. At
the corner he was directed to make a
right turn, then a left until he reached
Bright Water Court where he turned east
to Eighth Street. On this corner stood
a second man, short, stocky, well-dressed.
His face was effectively masked with a
handkerchief which he appeared to be
using to mop his brow.

At the gunman’s direction Farber

pulled to the curb and halted in front

of the stocky individual. The latter
opened the’ rear door of the car and
slipped in, while the man with the gun
changed places with Farber.

Then the stocky man produced a pair
of ordinary, horn-rimmed, dark sun
glasses, and leaning forward slipped them
over Farber’s eyes with the warning to
keep his head bowed and his eyes shut.
The car proceeded southwest on Eighth
Street for a time and then turned. There-
after the coal merchant lost his sense of
direction.

They had been driving only a short
while when the man who was driving the
car stopped and said, “Tom, you better
get up in,‘the front seat.”

Farber knew by the uncertainty of his
tone when he mentioned the name that
the “Tom” was a false lead meant to de-
ceive him. ‘The number two man took
the place behind the wheel vacated by the
pasty-faced thug, while the latter climbed
in on the other side of Farber.

They continued to drive and it ap-
peared to the victim that they were on
a main thoroughfare and judging from
the number of stops they made, were ap-
parently stopping for red lights at fre-
quent intervals. Farber began to worry.

" HEN will we get to the union?” he
asked.

“What union?” sneered the pasty-faced
bandit.

“T thought—” :

The bandit cut him short. “TI’ll do the
thinking from now on—with this to help
me.” he gun was thrust sharply into the
victim’s ribs.

Farber’s heart sank. He knew now what
was happening. He was being kidnaped
and the union story had merely been a
ruse, and..an effective one, to weaken his
resistance at the only point where it
might have helped him.

With that interchange all three lapsed
into silence. The driver increased his
speed and aftcr about forty-five minutes
had passed he brought the car to a halt,
parking it with the steering wheel next
to the curb.

“This is the last stop,” Pasty-Face said,

r bbing Farber by the arm and helping

im out of the car.

As _ the’ victim stepped down from the
running board, he opened his eyes a crack
and managed a look, He saw that he was
in a poor neighborhood with tenement
houses directly in front of him.

With a kidnaper on either side of him
he was hustled into one of the tenement
buildings. | He took one step up and was
in the building. At the end of the hall-
way he was turned to the right and taken
into a deserted room.

_ “I suppose you’ know what we’re hold-
ing you for,” Pasty-Face remarked.
‘arber nodded his head.

“Okay, then, sit down and write a note
to yup brother. We want real dough.”

“How much?”

“Twenty-five grand.”

Farber gasped. ‘“He’ll never be able
to raise that much.”

“He better if he ever wants to see
you alive,” he said meaningly. “T don’t
care if. he has to put the business in
hock. . We want that dough.”

Farber seated himself in a round-bot-
tom chair with a wire back, took the
pencil and paper given him by the leader
and wrote:

Dear Irving, : mi
I am being held. It means life and
death; Get twenty-five thousand dol-
lars.{)Don’t notify the police..{ se,
pleasg@, save me. iy i
om Benny. Farber
One of the kidnapers walked“ up behind

TRUE-DETECTIVE MYSTERIES


the
vith-
Ose-
was
iold-
sarre

iten-

day
: for
-and
. did
. De-
raged
Delar
ced in
{nsane

es had

crime
iter it.
to the
van the
history
owners

» which
al task
ced that
outside
uspicion
rs, even
on the

| accord-
y, means
ssociates.

support
. be sub-

J. Edgar
by which

(YSTERIES

&

his men were to work—one which permit-
ted the minimum of human error. Secur-
ing the list of car proprietors from the
State Commissioner of Motor Vehicles, his
famous Special Agents set out to work.

~ Unaware that Arthur Fried had been
cremated, the Federal Agents instituted an
intensive search for the victim’s body.

kidnapers to get their hands on the ran-
som money meant that they would be left
short of funds. This spelled fresh crime.
Their acute need for cash suggested that
such crimes might be committed in the
very near future. .

Tt was a cold, misty night on February
16th, 1938, when a car ulled up in front
of 137 Varick Street in Brooklyn. Through
the glass window of the office of the Vijax
Coal Company, @_man could .be_ seen
seated at a desk. He was George Mish-
kin, manager of the coal concern, and he
held a telephone receiver to his ear while
he made notes on & pad beside the
phone. : *

+ HUS absorbed he failed to observe that
when the car par ed in front of his
place, two men climbed out of the rear
seat, while the driver, smartly dressed in a
light hat and camel’s-hair. coat, faced the
machine about. The two strangers entered
the office, and Mishkin, continuing the
telephone conversation, merely raised his

had high cheek-bones, 8 large nose an
a receding mouth and chin set in a face
of rat-like cruelty. is companion’s pale
expressionless face looked yellow in the
glow of the electric light. The latter
whipped out a revolver and leveled it at
the manager.

“Keep right on talking,” he said calmly.

Startled, Mishkin paused, then spoke in-
to the mouthpiece to the customer at the
other end. ‘ i
now, I'll call you back later.” Then he
hung up and his arms reached ceilingward.

“Never mind that,” the gunman rasped.
“Get over to the safe and open, it!”

“T haven’t got—” “

“Never mind any excuses." Get that
dough!” -

Mishkin knew that it was useless to pro-
test and suicide to resist. He stepp
back from the desk and walked over to

the tumblers had fallen in line, pulled
open the door.

With that the pasty-faced gunman
grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and
jerked him back. From a mn box in
the corner of the safe the, thug removed
$400 in cash, placed it in @ bag and
tucked it under his coat, then pointing
the gun at the manager's heart, he or-
dered him into a corner.

“Stay there for five minutes,” he
warned. “If you let a peep out of you
before then I'll come back and drill you
full of holes.” poe

The rat-faced thug who had stood guard
at the door gave & low whistle and both
turned about and raced int® the street.
They hurled themselves into the getaway
car and it sped off.

Although the instant they left, Mishkin
had grabbed u the receiver and phoned
a frantic appeal to the Police Department,
the robbers somehow managed to slip
through the cordon of radiogears thrown
about the scene.of the criméby the police
telegraph bureau. The onlyaah i
could offer the’ olice Waseee description
of the bandits. .themselvessaeat the local

recinct, |. detectives édi- him _ the
ogues Gallery, photos criminals
serve in that. district. But Mishkin, al-
though certain). that he id recognize

ganvary, 1940s"

the bandits if he ever saw them again
could identify none of the pictures.
Twelve days later the same trio drove
into the yard of the Kingston Fuel Com-
pene at 76-13 Jamaica Avenue in Wood-
aven, Queens. Their haul here was only

George Mishkin meanwhile had been
spending many weary hours at the Bureau

ters. Since the local file had prove in-

adequate he was studying the pictures In
the master file. It would have been an
impossible task for him to go through the
millions of pictures there. So he was
shown only those men the police believed
to be engaged in criminal enterprises ©
a like nature. But again his search was
without result.

On the night of March 14th, he returned
home from work rather late. It annoye
him to think that the bandits had made
a clean escape. It wasn’t the loss of the
money so much as the fact that as long
as they were free some other business man
would be victimized and perhaps shot. He
knew that in his own case if he had
shown any resistance at all it would have
meant the difference between a robbery

As he walked up_to the entrance of his
home at 1451 52nd Street, Brooklyn, a man
leapt out of the shadows. Before he could
say a word @ hard object was rammed
into his ribs. He looked down and saw
the blueblack barrel of a revolver.

“Put your hands down and walk to that
car.’ The gun poked Mishkin toward 2
sedan parked ‘at the curb.

“Tf it’s my money you want—” Mishkin

hegem
_ The gunman cut him short. “Get mov-
ing or it’ll be too late.”

Pr the rush of conflicting emotions which
swept over Mishkin the sinister voice
of the stickup man penetrated his con-

real horror swept over him.
a person confronted with sudden danger,
like that of a person who is drowning, ex~
periences a multitude of impressions In an
instant’s time.

In the moment it took for the gunman
to hurry Mishkin across the few feet of
pavement and into the waiting car, his

like thug whom he also recognized as hav-
ing been present at the first_ robbery.
‘Why pick on me again?” Mishkin
asked.
“Oh, so you recognize us.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked
in sudden alarm.
“You'll soon find out,” the leader mut-

”
.

tered. h

Mishkin lapsed into silence,

The car had already turned the corner
and was riding to the northward at a mod-
erate rate of speed. From the actions of
the thugs this might very. well be the be-
ginning of a one-way, gangland ride. If
this were so, Mishkin failed to find any
understandable motive for it. A law-abid-

moderate means, Mishkin had absolutely
no contact or dealings with the under-
world, nor had he enemies, so far as he
knew, who might have been responsible
for his predicament.

A half hour later the bandits’ car

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ERIES

him, slipped off the dark glasses and
wrapped a length of adhesive about his
head. Thus blindfolded, Farber’s other
senses were considerably heightened. His
ears caught sounds and his mind evalu-
ated them with greater skill than he
thought he possessed. He heard boys
playing ball in the street. Several times
they came rushing into the hallway. One
of the kidnapers, driving them away,
banged on the door and it gave out a
metallic sound.

In a short time two confederates showed
up. They were handed the note and
they left.

At 11:15 a. M., the victim’s brother,
Irving, seated behind his desk in the
office of the coal company, wondered
though was not concerned over the non-
appearance of his brother. When the
telephone rang he raised the receiver
leisurely to his ear. is

“Let me speak to Irving Farber, please,”
a voice asked politely. bes

“This is Irving Farber speaking.”

ial:

Bg meg get this straight. We're holding
your brother for ransom, If: you say
one word to the police, you'll mever see
him again alive. Stay where you are until
you hear from us again.” There was a
click and the connection was broken.
The caller’s voice, which sounded reedy
and cracked, was obviously being dis-
guised. a ;

Not knowing whether a practical joke
was being played upon him, Irving tele-
honed his brother’s home, learned that
e had left early that morning. Addi-
tional telephone calls brought the infor-
mation that no one had seen him after
the time he called at the bank.

An hour after the first call from the
kidnapers Irving received a second. “Go
to the cigar store at Graham . Avenue
and Grand Street,” the same disguised
voice told him. “Look in the Brooklyn
Classified Directory on page ou
will find a letter there. Wait in this
store for a telephone call. I'll ask for
Mr. Smith.”

Irving climbed into his car. and sped
to the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn
where this store was located, He hur-

ried inside and on a table next to the.

public booth, hurriedly thumbed through
the red-covered telephone book.,.On page
500, as his instructions sta he found
the letter which had been written by his
brother. One swift glance at it and his
worst fears were realized. There was no
more doubt in his mind that this was a
kidnaping, for he recognized his brother’s
handwriting.

So excited was he at that moment,
in fact, that he thought $25,000 mentioned
in the note was $2,500 and his mind was
already figuring out the details as to how
he was to raise the latter amount quickly.
‘As he stood there the phone in one of
the booths rang and a clerk answered it.
He came out a moment later and asked
Irving Farber, “Are you Mr,; Smith?”

“That's right,” Irving said eagerly.

“There’s a call for you in that boot! ”
He motioned with his thumb.

Farber entered and carefully: closed the
door behind him.

“Hello, is that Mr. Smith?”

“That’s right.”

“Get all that money, together as soon
as you can, then get back to your office
and wait for further contact.”

“Flow is my brother?” he asked quickly.

“Ffe’s okay as long as you;édme through
with the dough.” ~- Then-the receiver
clicked. ;

Irving went directly to » with-
drew $2,000 and returned ly to his
office.

At 2:45 that afternoon hone rang

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119

es,


mel

once more and the kidnaper asked him
whether he had sccured the money.

Figuring that he was just five hundred
dollars short, Irving replied, “I could: only
raise $2,000 of it.”

“What?” the kidnaper asked incred-
ulously.. “Do you expect to get you
brother back for that?” ube

“But it’s the most I could raise.”

“T don’t’ know if it’ll do you any good.

T'll have to take it up with the boss.”

As the time passed, Ben Farber, became

more and more concerned over his own

safety. The quict efficiency with which
each man attended to his task. bespoke

* the work: of experts in this line.

A SUDDEN spring shower descended
and evidently the boys playing in, the
street dispersed, for their voices ceased
abruptly. It was late in the afternoon now
and os was beginning to feel hungry. He
mentioned this fact and the pasty-faced

leader said to some one in the room. “Hop °

out and get a container of coffee.”
Farber knew that there were five men
in this kidnap mob. There was the pasty-
faced leader and the short, squat’ gun-
man who had abducted him. There were
two others whose voices he heard. One
had been sent out with the kidnaper

called Tom to negotiate for the payment -

of ransom. The other was the guard.
There was a fifth man present, too. His
keen ears detected the latter’s srovements
in the room, But never once did he
hear that-individual utter a sound. When
questions were directed’ toward him the
answers were presumably made in the sign
language, for Farber could hear no re-

onse,

On the outside he could hear the occa-
sional noise of an elevated train going
yo From its sound he judged it to be
about two blocks distant. In the imme-
diate’ vicinity he heard the constant

states have parole systems worthy of the
name. Nine take no cognizance of the
roblem, having no parole whatever. In
Coaen these two extremes there. is a
conglomerate mass of varying procedures
which masquerade under the name of
parole. Individual parole: systems, so-
called, are maintained by some counties in
certain of the states. In other states, each
penitentiary is left to work out. its own
salvation in the matter of parole. One.

such institution, priding itself on the low ~

expense of its “parole system,” reported
that during one year its cost was only
twenty-five dollars, This munificent sum
for the control of its liberated prisoners
was spent on postage! a
In the pages of True Detective an in-
sistent campaign has been waged, reflect-
ing the public dissatisfaction with the
manner in which prisoners are turned
loose on society, und calling for the elimi-
nation of the abuses of parole. These
abuses have been nation-wide, a series of
recurrent shocks to our sensibilities. Rec-
ognition of this problem has been‘ given
impetus. by President Roosevelt. himself
who ordered Attorney General Murphy

: to call a national conference at Washing-
“ ton on April 17th and 18th. The Attor-

ney General, in his keynote address open-
ing this conference, stated that the ad-
ministration of parole always has been “a
source of scandal” and is in need of ‘a
“thorough job of house-cleaning.”

As a means of providing sufficient per-
sonnel to. furnish uniform standards for
parole administration, Mr. Murphy sug-

120

clanging of metal as though a black-
smith were on duty.

Farber was just swallowing the last gulp
¥ coffee when a knock sounded on the
oor.

Pasty-Face, gun drawn, cautiously
opened it a crack, then swung it open to

» admit, the Rat—it was he who handled

the telephone assignment—and the man
called Tom. He immediately drew them
into a corner,

“How’d you make out?”

“Not so good,” the Rat replied dis-
gustedly. “They only want to pay $2,000.”
. “They’ll have to do better than that,”
Pasty-Face said in an ugly tone.

The ‘Rat shrugged his shoulders. “I
told .him I’d take it up with you.”

“Nothing doing. -We want more than
that. Remember we’ve got to split it five

a
asty-Face regarded the prisoner bale-

fully, “Is the furnace still going over at

the Ukrainian Hall?” he whispered.

The-Rat nodded in the affirmative.

He seemed to be considering this when
the shrill sound of an approaching siren
burst ‘in the room,: Farber could feel
the tenseness. His heart leapt with hope,
but the sound of the siren reached its
crest’ and then faded rapidly, signifying
that the police car had passed without
stopping.

Pasty-Face breathed easily once more.
“That settles it,” he said. “We get rid
of that monkey.” |

“It’s too much trouble,” the Rat pro-

‘ tested.

“It’s too dangerous to keep him here,”
the leader countered.

“Let’s give them another chance. If
they come through with enough dough
then we can leave him go; if they don’t—”
the Rat shrugged his shoulders meaning-
fully. -With that the latter took his
leave, prepared to carry out the kidnap

Enemies Within
(Continued from page 74)

gested that Federal aid to the states in
handling this problem might be war-

ranted. The abuses. of parole, in his opin-

ion, can be eliminated only with a——

_. «+» Modern parole system under uni-
fied control, free from venal politics,
administered by a trained, competent
staff and equipped with every tech-
nique and device that modern science
can provide.

And President Roosevelt, in analyzing
the reasons for much of the criticism of
parole, told the delegates at the confer-
ence that—

. it is due to the fact that while
forty-six of our states have parole
laws, less than a dozen have provided
the money and the personnel which
are necessary to operate a real parole
system.

Some of the criticism is due, too, to
the fact that the parole power has
been to grant political or personal
favors.

The combination of neglect and
abuse in the administration of the
parole power is a matter of serious
national concern.

CASH FOR YOUR LETTERS
SEE PAGE 95

leader’s instructions.«:

Although Farber ¢ould not hear the
conversation carriediron between Pasty-
Face and the Rat, he guessed that things
had gone wrong. The utter lack of ex-
citement and the -calm efficiency with

which these kidna worked indicated
that they were old;:hands at the game.
A feeling of terror gripped him. What-
ever the errand of the mobster who had
just left might be, Ben Farber felt posi-
tive that his own fate would be decided
by the information the man brought back.

At four-thirty, two sharp, quick raps
sounded on the door. Pasty-Face opened
it a crack, then swung it wide to admit
his confederates. .,,

“How did you make out?”

“They still don’t wanna go higher than
$2,000.” the Rat announced.

“What did you say?”

“I told them I’d have to take it up
with the boss again.”

“We'll teach them a lesson once and
for all,” Pasty-Face said in cold fury.

He whipped his revolver out of his
pocket.

_The Rat shook his head in the nega-
tive. “Too much noise,” he whispered,
placing his hand on the leader’s arm.

Pasty-Face took Farber’s topcoat off a
hook, draped it over his gun to muffle
the sound of the shot, then tiptoed be-
hind the victim.

One after another the victims of the
ruthless kidnap combine are snatched,
while their anxious friends and relatives
are given the ultimatum: “Your money
or his life!” Read next month’s instalment
of this thrilling serial which gives all the
inside details of what went on behind
the scénes before the ruthless gang was
smashed. In the February issue on all
news stands January 5th.

Leaders in our national life have em-
phasized the baleful effect of the inter-
weaving of venal politics with parole. We
have come to realize that the public
enemy has been built up into the sinister
menace that he is by the aiders and abet-
tors in the background, the political]
stooges, the grafters and the fixers, the
entire horde of parasites who throttle the
agencies of law-enforcement. Before pa-
role can gain the full confidence of the
public, we must wipe away the “guardian
angels” of the criminals.

hgh effective process of dealing with
our public enemies must take into
account the social organism which permits
them to thrive. We cannot lift parole to a
higher plane, nor cam we cure the cancer
of crime in our national life, without
building up our police and our moral
values—and somehow we must get rid of
the vicious horde of politicians who are
aiding the professional criminal because
they are paid by the criminals for that
aid. These disgraceful conditions I have
recounted—have no place in our ‘Ameri-
can way of life | they must. be up-
rooted and entirély ‘eradicated if we are
to retain our self-respect as a free
people. ae :

The battle is wellworth waging. Our
age has its ownis@rama, with its own
characters ‘and plofcwith its own*distinc-

ri

other they went
find a trunk Ii!
.piece. Nor had

idea where such «

sold.

But at six oc
struck gold. He
with a short, dar!
was Sidney Le R
and he had mad:
terminal.

He stated tha‘

man with the -

Street and Ninth
and his trunk to
ward dropped hin
corner of 42nd an

LeRoy’s eviden
gave the detectiv
ing point of th

somewhere in thi

and Ninth Aven
tectives Steadm:

dealers in that di-

LLINS stay
now, waitin:
was possibly the
case, And the bre
at seven-thirty f!
“We've found |
ported, “the onl)
this kind of tru
and Ninth Aven:
It didn’t take
to make the dri:
They soon arr
of the Moelle Bi
bert. Edward wa
and he told the
morning he had
swered the descr:
smoked glasses, :
“Did you deliv
“T carried it m
“Fine, how far
“Just two block
“Will you show
“Sure.”
Leaving Stead:
Mullins, Hodge
walked down N
came to 51st Str
of the Avenue,
doorway where
the trunk. Mul
dismissed him.
After the lugg
stepped up to th
most immediat«
in the apartmen
trance, An eldet
out. Colored st:
flections onto he

“Who are you
Mullins — flash
officers.”

Another paus:
“Wait there a m

The door open:
there in the entr
Mullins explain:
the trunk.

“We understan:
morning,” he ad

“That,” she ré
sible.”

“Nevertheless
around.”

“Look to your

swered.
Following the
ascended and «
large; well furnis!
were a private «:
Mullins and H:
of the apartment

JANUARY, ‘1940

hae

®
:
’
;
od
%
4


ee nS sae - ~
Eve ee Pree aes Reta ade fash es eg try FSeeD s e 3 :

RT

girl began to sing “A Tisket, A Tas-
ket.”
Miller was certainly alarmed, but he

was also alert. He resolved to imprint °

every detail of what was happening on

his mind. ‘Sooner or later he would be.
questioned by the police. He wanted .
to be able to furnish them with as_

many answers as possible. He_ esti-
mated that they drove for some: 25
minutes. before the car came to a stop.

‘He also figured that they had been

traveling at about 25 miles an hour. ~
He was taken from the car. A. pair

-» of sunglasses were put on him, pre-
“sumably to. cover the adhesive tape
over his eyes. Then he was escorted.

into a building in which he clearly

“heard the clicking balls ona pool ta-

ble. Patan ate

-". By. wriggling his eyebrows he had:
managed to loosen the blindfold a lit-

tle over his right eye. ‘As the tape

~ slipped, Miller saw that he was pass-

“ing through a large room in~ which

collapsible chairs were stacked. Then

*he was taken into’a.dark corridor. >

--. "The sun glasses were removed, the

“slipped tape was noticed and Miller

-. .was blindfolded again, more securely.

He was asked if he wanted. anything,
‘to eat. Bae

> “You can have anything you want,”

old man is going to pay for it.” '

‘On the following morning, which

was Sunday, Norman Miller heard a

-church bell chime. He counted the

a gruff voice told him. “After all, your ' :

‘When lawyers claimed furnace was too jimall for a body, two husky police got in. “But search of

-. chimes.. The bell tolled exactly. 26
' times.

He stowed this fact away in

_ his memory. Later in the day he over-

heard one of the gang tell another that
there was a swell movie at the theatre
down the block. This fact also was
mentally filed by Norman Miller.

In the meantime Charles Miller,
Norman’s father, had been telephoned
by one of. the gang. A demand was
made for $100,000 for the return of his

son. Miller, who was the head of a.

stevedoring company, protested that

che didn’t have that kind of money. |
“J’)] do anything within reason to get
~my-son back,” he said.

“But I can’t
raise that much.” ;

After some argument the caller

agreed to telephone again on the fol-
lowing day. Then he cut his demands

"in half. ‘However, Miller still insisted _
the price was too high. Because of the-

caller’s threats to kill Norman if he
did so, Charles Miller did not call: in
the police or the FBI. '
Three days later, the kidnapers
agreed to accept $13,000 in cash. .This
amount, -in respect to Charles Miller’s

- resources, was within reason, He
agreed to pay the $13,000. He was in-

structed to go to a gasoline station at

23rd Street and First Avenue in Man~-'

hattan. At the rear of the station stood
a large trash can. The cash, properly
wrapped in an envelope, was to be

dropped in the can at .precisely 11-

o’clock that night. Miller was then to
return home. Another phone call

they put you in?”

the basement proved fruitless

-would apprise him of the: whereabouts

of his\son. ,

Miller nervously obeyed the instruc-
tions. After depositing the money in
the trash can he went back to his
Brooklyn home. There he and his dis-
traught wife waited ‘apprehensively.
When the telephone rang, Charles Mil-

ler was told that his son could be |

found sitting on a garbage can at the

- rear of a house situated on Avenue D,

between 11th and 12th Streets..
Miller raced to his car and drove
back to Manhattan. He found Norman,

‘sitting quietly on the can, obeying the

gang’s warning not to remove the tape

"from his eyes until his father arrived.

Norman was speedily taken home. On
the following morning Charles Miller
called the New -York police. :Within an

hour Norman Miller was being inter-’

viewed by FBI Agent Vetterli.. -

. He was able to tell the agent a great
deal. | “I’m not sure of the exact time,”
he said, “but the car radio was playing
‘A Tisket, A Tasket,’ and it was Tom-
my Dorsey’s orchestra.” ,

“Do you know what kind of a car

“T think it was a Packard; I got a

‘look at it in the rear view mirror be-

fore they blindfolded me.”
Miller went on to say that the build-
ing where he had- been held prisoner

-was below the street level. He recalled
-walking down 12 steps as they entered.

“I heard the clicking of billiard balls,”
he said. “But when the tape. slipped

and I
pool t
room
Vet
‘Did
Mill:
in the
ring 0)
actly :
movie
where
ferred
Vett
ler or
certai:
were
Arthu
Mille:
genui
Vet
rectly
G-m:

‘as he

obtai
York


Prescott
iping.

owed by
ead and
it to the
edan and
reported.

was a
»n found
t seemed

ally had

make of
‘Did you

2 car had
ismobile.
aber eand
—TN,

ried was
; During
‘a dozen
strongly
did -not
-elephone
had en-

-y hit the
1 no.one
been told

missing.
lding the
of which
' that the

st, a re-
‘lepponed
i, believ-

the kid- ©

.ejr diffi-
money.
kidnap-

seed oe Oe ee arte en}

aE alle Sela Se

tee.

i ttt aie a ES

waiz-etacgusiisiaes te

ens Dla lt de i a

Shedin

ssbiebd cb SaE NEE dst

ing was blazoned on the front pages
of the press.

Hugo Fried and Agent Vetterli. were
greatly disturbed. They feared that
the publicity might drive the criminals

- to kill Arthur. However, on January.

3rd, another call came in. This time
the kidnapers announced’ that they
would accept $3500 for the release of
Arthur. Hugo was instructed to go to
a movie theatre on lower Second Ave-
nue and wait outside a phone booth
in the lobby. There he would be a
at 10:15 p.m.

The FBI agents warned ‘Hugo that
he must make sure that Arthur Fried

‘still lived before he paid the ransom

money. No direct word had been
received from the missing man since

‘Hugo had picked up the letter in the

York Avenue tavern. .

Just before 10:30 on the night of Jan-
uary 3rd, the telephone rang in the
telephone booth in the theatre lobby.
Hugo picked up the receiver. A voice
said, “Go up to the balcony. Open the
éxit door on the left and throw the
money down into the alley below.”

“All right,” said Hugo Fried, “but

first I must have proof that my broth-.

er’s alive.”
“You have my word.”

“That’s hardly enough,” said Hugo.. °

“T want something more than that.”

“You can’t have it. Drop that dough
where I. told you. You'll see. your
brother in & few hours.”

The réceiver clicked back on the
hook. Hugo stood there for a long
moment. He had a depressing hunch
that Arthur was dead, that he probably
had been killed when the news story
of the kidnaping had hit the front
pages. He decided to take the cash
back home, to confer with Agent Vet-
terli.

By doing so, he saved $3500. He did

not save his brother’s life. For, al-

though they did not yet know it, Hugo
Fried’s hunch was tragically right.
Arthur Fried was dead. Not even his
‘body remained. The kidnapers had
not only disposed of Arthur Fried; they
had disposed of the’ corpus delicti as
well.

- FBI Chief J. Edgar Hoover now ap-
‘pointed half a dozen of his crack agents

to work with Vetterli in an effort to
track down the kidnapers. Desperate-
ly the agents began..tracing. all auto-
mobiles whose license plates had the
number 7N. It was an almost hope-

-less. task... There were thousands) of
_ such cards and there was not a single
clue to tie any of the owners with the

kidnaping of Arthur Fried.

On April 24th, 1938, two brothers,
Benjamin and Irving Farber, walked
into the office of FBI Agent Vetterli.
They reported a kidnaping. ‘Benjamin
Farber, a prosperous Brooklyn: coal

merchant, had* been snatched from’

his office, blindfolded and carried off
in a car. He had been forced to write
a note to his brother asking $25,000.

hat.

After that, the pattern’ of events
closely followed that of the Fried kid-
naping case. There had been days of

. dickering over the telephone. Eventu-

ally the kidnapers had agreed to ert:
$2000.

Acting upon the telephoned iniittuck
tions, Irving Farber had tossed a

package containing the cash from the,

Williamsburg .Bridge, at a specified
time, to a man wearing a white felt

Both Irving and Benjamin had been

‘warned that they would be killed if

they reported the kidnaping. Irving,
concerned about his brother’s safety,
had not done so while Benjamin was
in the hands of the criminals. But

- now that his brother‘was free, he had

decided to notify the federal author-
ities.
Vetterli questioned Benjamin Farber

_at great length. Farber believed that

there were five men in. the kidnap ring.
He was certain that he would recog-
nize the two who had abducted him.
He had been blindfolded. most of the

time during his captivity, but he was ©

sure that he had heard the voices of
three other. men. ..

Vetterli was of the opinion that the .
gang which had kidnaped Benjamin -

Farber was the same one which had‘ -

kidnaped Arthur Fried. There weren’t

too many cases of kidnaping and the -
: routine of demanding a tremendously -..-

high ransom then offering to settle for

a small fraction of it was too similar.
to be coincidental. .

Vetterli and his men redoubled their
efforts to track down the ring. How-
ever, by July they had achieved abso-
lutely nothing. Perhaps, they never

_ would have reached a_ solution to the
‘ case were it not that Norman Miller

was kidnaped on July 23rd, 1938, in
Brooklyn. .

Norman Miller was a studious youth, |

19. years old. On this particular day
Miller’s parents had driven to Long
Island to visit relatives... The youth,

left alone, went to a movie that eve- —
ning... As he left the theatre and got.

into his car to drive home, two men

approached. One of them opened the .

car door and brandished a’ revolver.
They pushed their way into pie seat
next to Miller.

- Nervously, Miller started the car. In ?

the rear view mirror he saw that his

‘car was being followed by a gray se-.

dan. After a while Miller was ordered

to. halt the car at the quiet, residential ©

intersection at 22nd Street and Avenue
M in Brooklyn.
Adhesive tape was plastered over his

__eyes.. He was dragged from his own.
“ear and led to the sedan which had
been following him. As they drove off -
: ‘again, someone turned on ‘the car ra-
-dio. Miller heard a band‘ which he
recognized, that of Tommy Dorsey. A

’ An alert G-man spotted the social hall (r.) after noticing church tower (1. rear)

%


g
—)

ry

and I could see a little, I didn’t see any

pool tables. I was going through a big.

room with a lot of folding chairs in it.”
Vetterli scribbled in his notebook.
“Did you notice. anything else?” —

Miller nodded. “There was a church
in the neighborhood. I heard its bell”

ring on Sunday morning. It rang ex-
actly 26 times. And there must be a
movie house somewhere near the place

where I was held. One of the men re-.

ferred to it as being down the block.”
Vetterli congratulated Norman Mil-
ler on being so observant. He was
certain that the kidnapers of Miller
were the same gang that had kidnaped
Arthur Fried and Benjamin: Farber.
Miller had given the G-man the first
genuine clues-he had yet obtained.
Vetterli reported his findings di-

rectly to J. Edgar Hoover. The head ©

G-man offered Vetterli as many agents

‘as he thought he needed. Vetterli also

obtained: the cooperation of the New
York police department and the office

of Thomas Dewey, who was then the
district attorney. :

| Vetterli sent half a dozen of his men
into action. Two of them checked the
broadcasting companies’ and learned
that the. number played by Tommy
Dorsey ,jhad been on the air at exactly
12:35 a.m. on the night of the kidnap-
ing. ‘Two others checked the license
bureau. Vetterli wanted to find out if
any owner of a 1938 Packard had
owned a Buick or Oldsmobile the pre-

vious year, with the plate number 7N.°

A half-dozen agents drove cars to
Avenue ‘O and 22nd Street, the point
where Miller had been transferred
from his own car to the Packard. They
drove off in various directions, pro-
ceeding at 25 miles an hour and driv-
ing for some 25 minutes, duplicating,
as far as possible, the ride Norman
Miller had taken. :

' When all these reports were in, Vet-
terli, using a compass with Avenue Oo

‘and 22nd (Continued on page 84)

Under heavy guard, Gula (3rd fr. l.), Jacknis (3rd fr. r.) and Virga (far r.)

: One ring member turned up in Sing Sing

enter court to hear kidnap-murder charges

es

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‘Three Were

Kidnaped, _
Two Came Back

(Continued from page 53)

Street in Brooklyn as a focal point, drew
a wide circle. Then agents were dispatched
to find a spot in this area which contained
a pool hall, a church, and'a movie house
in close proximity.

It was a long and arduous job. It was
not until three months later that an agent,
working in lower Manhattan, presently
came to the corner of Second Avenue and
6th Street. From where he stood he could
see a movie theatre on Second Avenue.
He knew that there was a church less than
two blocks away. He started to look for a
poolroom, .

He failed to find one. The nearest such
establishment was some’ distance away.
The agent loitered on 6th Street and pon-
dered the problem. Thus far there had
been nothing but disappointment in this
case. Then, just as he was about to leave
the area, he noticed a building whose sign
proclaimed a private social club.. The
agent moved nearer and saw that 12 steps
led down from the sidewalk just inside the
door. It occurred to him that a social club
might contain a few pool tables. He went
into the building.

Just beyond the entrance hall was a
large room containing four pool and two
billiard tables. The agent kept on walk-
ing. At the rear of the poolroom was an-
other, larger room. There was a dais at
one end and 100 or more folding chairs
stacked against the walls. Obviously, this
room was used as an assembly hall. Elated,
he left the building. He took a taxi to the
FBI’s downtown office and eagerly re-
ported his find to Vetterli.

Three days later another agent tracked
down a gray Packard sedan at the Jamaica
race track. Its owner had previously
driven a Buick, the license number of
which had been 7N-900.. The man’s name
was Dennis Gula.

All this was reported to J. Edgar Hoover
in Washington. The FBI chief was taking
a personal interest in the case. Hoover
ordered an around-the-clock tail put on
Gula, who lived on St. Marks Place in
Brooklyn. The tailers soon learned that
Dennis Gula used his car very seldom. It
was usually driven by his 28-year-old
son, Demetrius. Moreover, it developed
that the elder Gula held the restaurant
concession at the social club in lower
Manhattan.

Young 'Gula had a prison record and no
legitimate means of livelihood. He owned
a few slot machines and spent most of his
time at the race track. During the period
of surveillance his constant companions
were two friends, William Jacknis and
John Virga. A check of the files showed
that this pair also possessed criminal rec-
ords.

Vetterli learned that these three men
had been conferring with a notorious
criminal lawyer about obtaining the re-
lease from Sing Sing of a well-known
thug, Joseph Sacoda. Sacoda had been
free on parole until a month before, when
the parole had been revoked and he had
been returned to the penitentiary.

On October 25th Vetterli decided the
time had come to move. He ordered young
Gula, Virga and Jacknis brought in for

questioning. If they refused to talk, he

would bring in Benjamin Farber and Nor-
man Miller to identify them.

The three men were held in separate
rooms and questioned independently.

* murder.

Jacknis was the first member of the ring
to crack. A frightened young man, he
swore that he had not been implicated in
the Fried kidnaping. However, he had
heard about it. Gula and Sacoda had told
of throwing Fried’s body into the basement
furnace of the social club. They panicked
when the papers had printed news of the
kidnaping. They shot Fried and inciner-
ated his body, Jacknis stated.

Jacknis, ,however, admitted his implica-
tion in the cases of Benjamin Farber and
Norman Miller. He had known Farber
personally. .In that case, the gang was
aided by another minor hoodlum. He was
the man in the white hat to whom Irving
Farber tossed the bundle of money.

Norman Miller had been selected as a
victim, due to a chance remark. Gula,
collecting from one of his slot machines,

noticed that the gross was much bigger .

than usual. He asked ‘the operator of the
bar where the machine was installed about
it. The owner told him that Charles Mil-
ler had put the coins in. He added that
Miller was a rich man. Gula decided to
cut himself a share of the Miller money.

Gula, confronted with Jacknis’ confes-
sion, finally broke down. He conceded that
Jacknis had told the truth about the Far-
ber and Miller kidnapings. Questioned
sharply about Arthur Fried, he finally ad-
mitted that the crime had been engineered
by himself and Steve Sacoda.

Gula said that the publicity in the Fried
case and the fact that the FBI had entered
the case were the reasons for the Fried
murder. However, Gula insisted that Sa-
coda actually had fired the shot which
killed Fried.

“We held Fried in Sacoda’s apartment,”
he said. “Steve killed him there. Then
we took him to the club and burned the
body in the furnace.”

Sacoda was promptly brought down
from Sing Sing. At first, he called Gula a
liar and refused to say anything himself.
But when Benjamin Farber and Norman
Miller were brought to the FBI offices they
identified Gula and Sacoda as the two men
who had kidnaped them. Miller also tes-
tified that he was almost certain he recog-
nized the voices of Jacknis and Virga.

Vetterli realized that, without a corpus
delicti, he would have trouble in getting a
murder conviction against Gula and Sa-
coda. He consulted with Assistant District
Attorney Jacob J. Rosenblum. Rosenblum
dug up an obscure New York state statute
which held that if a kidnaper was brought
to trial before his victim had been found,
the prosecutor might ask for a death sen-
tence.

Vetterli and Rosenblum now confronted
Sacoda. The prosecutor said, “You’re not
talking because you think we can’t prove
But we don’t have to.” He told
him of the statute which would permit him
to ask the death penalty.

“If you’re asking the death penalty,” said
Sacoda, “ask it for Gula. He’s lying. He
killed Fried in the basement of the club.
I didn’t do it and it wasn’t done in my
apartment, either.”

Captain Edward Mullins of New York’s
homicide squad was now called in. Sacoda
was questioned at great length. Finally,
he admitted his participation in all three
kidnapings and his presence at the murder
of Arthur Fried. Throughout the entire
interrogation, he insisted that Gula had
actually pulled the trigger. -

Captain Mullins assigned two of his best
officers to investigate the murder. These
men, Detectives George Dunphy and
James Hayden, carefully examined every
inch of the furnace room. With the aid of
laboratory experts they discovered nine
small spots of blood on the floor. These
spots were examined by New York’s Chief
Toxicologist, Dr. Alexander .O. Gettler. Dr.
Gettler found the stains to have been

made by human

The FBI surr:
the state of New
Gula and Sacod:
Jacknis turned
them. Virga we
separately,

Gula and Sacocd
no recommendati:
sentenced to die i:
ga was brought to
victed of complic
Miller kidnapings.
50 years on each «
secutively. Jackn
evidence, receive
sentence.

The following s)
cepted the Farber
Italy, a country of
The Italian auth:
forwarded from N:

Terror Tr
(Co

“And get some milk

At 8:45 p.m. th:
turned into the dri,
nervously. Miller
that?”

“It’s probably m
me home,” said th:
Peggy.

“That’s right,” sz
er. “It’s my son,
his daughter.”

Kline nodded to
“Open the door,”
nothing’s wrong.
come in.”

Russell Fenstem:
kitchen. He glance:
utter amazement.

“The cops are aft:
ler. “We're here t
folks as hostages, if

Russell Fenstema):
had to get home. }
about him and Peg;
to think if I don’t c

“Who cares wha
Rhodes, his ear gluec
tened eagerly to eve:
cerned itself with th
Lillie.

“I care what she th
this guy doesn’t shov
call the cops and th
We got to think of s

Kline thought of ji
her,” he said. “He ca
man is sick, that he
overnight with his fa

Miller concurred \
in the back convinced
that it was a sound id
ler, Russell went to t!
put through a call t
cepted her husband's
Picion. Russell retu:
and glumly joined
coffee.

A few minutes laté
up to the house.
nervously, “That mu:
the green beans. He
for canning.”

Again Connie was
door and take the
handed them over wit
then left, totally una:
presence.

At 11 p.m. the radio
ris Lillie’s condition v
bullet had severely da


e police work. And if I ignore

~ «10 matter how trivial, the killer ing
“

get away.
an abandoned bike, surely .
yer can tell,” Lillard said cryP-

~\p words you think you know who
I think I know who didn’t

” added Lieut. Flippen, “is much
ortant at this point.”

(GHT AFTER the Johnson murders
ff Lillard and Lieut. Flippen called
Frank

monwealth Attorney \
to report on the progress of their d

tion.

rer they recited for Moffett the
‘acts in the case. ow William

away from the

of the finding of the bullets.
trace of the car yet? Of course, h

REAL

' man is coming down fro
been imag- morrow to open it for us.

have had

Again
surprise. .
p “No, I don’t think that
ust the opposite. ’m of the opinion
we're going to find the safe wasn't touched
at all. We didn’t get any fingerprints 0
it, at least.”

Then after a pause:

“T hope you don’t think we suspect Wil-
oore had any part in this.

liam M
Jear as you are, OF even me.

he’s as ¢
didn’t, have a thing to do with the mur-

m Richmond

it’s possible that the men in

ers.

Moffett smiled.
“ T concluded that, Sheriff, by the fact that
ou hadn’t brought him in with you.
T know you well enough to know that you
do have a suspect in mind. May I know
who it is?” .
Sheriff Lillard’s brow was furrow

DETECTIVE

to-

As for the mail

the

auto, the men Miss Dastham reported see-

, scared him away from that.

You think, then, that the killer may
the combination to the safe?”

Sheriff Lillard’s reply came as 4

_ In fact, I think

that

’

e

Also,

ed as

di:
“Ryerything in this case points to a boy,

{ be hard to find with only the first 45 pp i i
if I’m any judge of criminal psychology.

nerals of the license to go by,” Mof-
narked.

don't think the car is important.
w’t think the killer escaped in a

he case ©?
yelieve Miss
“4-4 the Johnsons. But as for the

e car, lL think it, is logical to
at two men, driving through
found themselves out of cigar-

That does sound logical, Sheriff,” agreed
fett. “But coming af ne to the time

‘liam Moore found the bodies,
”

ught—
‘no the Johnsons were

dead at least a half hour before the men
» the sheriff interrupt

say.

‘How do you figure that?” .
“Well, when Mrs. Moore tried to phone
r parents at about 9:30, as Moore told
didn’t answer. Therefore it

safe to assume the three people in. the

“Maybe it was the ringing of the phone
the burglar’s discovery and to

Lillard’s next remark startled

or.

“The burglar never was surprised, Mr.
Moffett. Because the murders preceded the
surglary, such as it was.”

“Now, how do you figure that one?”

“By the positions of the bodies,” said the
sheriff, matter-of-factly. “Unless the po-
iti { the bodies were altered consid-
erably before we arrive’
which I doubt, then the person we want
first killed the Johnsons, then burglarized

”

the store.
“Ts is possible, then, that murder was the
primary objective "

“pardly, Mr. Moffett. Money_ was the
primary objective in this case. Of that I
am certain.”

“Then why didn’t the killer do a thor-

ough job by opening the mail cage door,

anq the safe
‘Well, we don’t know for sure, yet,

iether or not the safe was opened.

ecially when Mie Das- ‘lig

Then he

something ?”

I believe I did. | Something that

almost got away—on a Dike.
turned to Lieut. Flippen.

“Say, did: Sergeant Blue get out to fin-
gerprint that bike those boys repor

the ditch this afternoon!
“J don’t know. But Pil check with him

right away. T’ll phone him.

We're looking for a boy who tried to get
out of a jam, only to get himself. into a
m—?

much, much greater one.
Sheriff Lillard checked himself, his face

hting up.
“What is it, Sheriff ?” Moffett

“Hit on

asked.

77

As Flippen put through the call to his
assistant, Sheriff Lillard waited impa-
tiently.

“T didn’t give this much thought at the
time,” he remarked to Prosecutor Mo ett,
“but it may turn out to be the break we

“How are you so sure it was 4 boy,
Sheriff, not a man 4s

“Because I thought from the first that
this was done with boyish slip-shodded-
-— and not the work of a practicing bur-
glar.” .

He lowered his voice so as not to inter-
fere with Flippen’s conversation.

“The killer was very careless about fin-
gerprints, yet ultra care ul about burying
the revolver cartridges under the bush near
the Johnson's garage door. The discarding
of the crowbar near the mail cage door,
indicating i
crowbar had had little experience in using
one, because it would have been
tively simple to have opened the door wit
a single try with just a
No man would have failed in one try.
boy might.

uNext, barring that we learn the safe
the killer got at most about

$20 to $25 from the store ‘il. This, ac-

Flippen had hung up the receiver and
Sheriff Lillard now turned to him ex-

ctantly.
ook the prints off the bike.

“Blue never t
The boy who owned it claimed it before he

ever got out to it,’ Flippen explained.
“Do you remember the name those boys

gave us ym

Young Edward Haight (le

MURDERED TWO GIRLS

his capture at Westport,

little Marga

ret and Helen

ft) is shown with a d

Lynch and

Conn., the day

etective after
after he putchered
left bodies in the woods.

a ae al - . }
a cincgioee sd


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seen there, with your wife, getting into
your pick-up. ‘That was three or four
hours after Greene had taken her into
town. What about it, Marcus? Isn’t that
more truth than you’ve been telling?”

Marcus Cox hung his head. For a long
moment he said nothing. Then, “That’s
right, Sheriff,” he said. “She was going
to California: and [ went into town to
ask her to reconsider it. T met her and
we had a soda and a sandwich. Then we
drove around..She wouldn’t listen to me,
insisted she was going. Finally I told her
to go ahead and I took her to the bus
depot and bought her a ticket. We had
another soda there and I told her good-
bye and came on home. I took it for
granted she'd gone until you came out
here and asked me why I hadn’t reported
her as missing.”

“You took it for granted she had gone,
yet you don’t know if she had any lug-
gage? You were willing to let us think
HTank Greene was the last man to have
seen her and you said she was going to
her mother. You even went through the
farce of calling her mother long distance.

“And, Marcus,” the sheriff added, “you
have to lie to the end. There was no
ticket sold to California from the bus
depot in Shelley—not on Wednesday
there wasn’t. There wasn’t one sold Tues-
day or Thursday. Where are you poing:
fo tell ine you pot the ticket from, Mar-
Cus 2

Se IR the young man could think up
anoanswer to that one, Jones and
Furchner entered the house. Jones nodded.
“Right as rain,’ he said. “Tires mateh
and there's blood stains ino the piek-up.
Somebody tried to clean them up but the
floor is rough and it couldn’t be done,”
The three officers stood in the Marcus
Cox living room, watching the man who
sat with bowed head. Young Cox broke
with a sob. He said, “All right. I did it. T
killed my wife but it was an accident.”
Then Marcus Cox told another story.
He and his wife had gone fishing, he said.
Ile had taken a shotgun along. As he
started to lift the gun from his pick-up

it went off, the charge striking: his wife
in the back of the head. Tle had become
frightened and had thrownther body inte
the river, then he had returned to his
home, meaning to bluff the entire thing
out.

“You'll have to try again, Marcus,”
Clough told him. “You wouldn’t ask me
to believe your wife changed a prospective
trip to California into a three o'clock in
the morning fishing trip, would you? You
wouldn’t ask me to believe she exchanged
her ticket—a ticket that was never bought
—and came out here to stay up all night
on a river bank?”

“It’s the truth, Sheriff,” Cox persisted.

“Ifow did she get those welts all over
her and how did she get that broken
jaw?”

“T don’t know, Sheriff. I didn’t know
she had them.”

“Save it,” Clough said. “You beat her,
you shot her and you threw her into the
river, You wanted to make sure she was
dead, didi’t you? Best thing for you to do
is to take us to the spot where all this
happened, then tell us the truth.”

The actual murder spot was about 12
miles south of Shelley, up a lonely and
little used lane bordering the river. Mar-
cus Cox took the officers there.

At the mouth of the lane, young Cox
broke again, Tle said he did not want to
view the actual spot again.

The officers allowed him to remain be-
hind, under guard. Ina few moments, the
sheriff, Furehner, Jones and Sandberg
were staring at a great splotch of blood,
dried and blackened‘on the ground. Plain
to be seen was the outline of the dead
girl’s body.

There were also tire tracks, identical
in make to the tires on Marcus Cox’
pick-up.

Marcus Cox was taken to Blackfoot
and lodged in the Bingham county jail.
Immediately charged with murder by
Prosecutor Furchner, he is at this Writing
awaiting trial.

(Fo protect the identity of av innocent: person,
the uname tauk Greene as used in’ this story ts
not real but petitions, gd.)

SLAYS TWO GIRLS

Charged with the abduction and murder of Margaret, 7, and Helen Lynch, 8, sisters,
in Westchester county, N. Y., Edward Haight, center, Stamford, Conn., is shown
with State Troopey Charles Flannigan, left, and Police Chief Frank Mallette.


HAIGHT, Edward, white, elec. NYSP (Westchester) July 8, 19)3
m : 7 ah .

es

According to Reading, Pa., police, Marie Wike drove a Handcuffed to an officer, Edward Haight, 17 (right).

truck 20 miles to a hospital with a bullet in her stomach. reaches White Plains, N. Y., where he was convicted of
She said Lhilip Bomgardner, with whom she was the kidnap-murders of Margaret and Helen Lynch, 7 and
riding, gave her a choice of being shot or poisoned. 8 respectively. The death penalty became mandatory.


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CRIME CONFESSIONS

position as my secretary, I have one
more bit of field work for you-~a sort
of test. If you pass it, you will be
working only in this office. If you do
not—” he shrugged his shoulders—
“Well, I would rather not talk of

Quickly he outlined my next task.
I was to do my verbal monkey-
wrench throwing in the neighborhood
of an army camp! It was to be done
without show, by occasional state-
ments properly placed. And then, to
top it, I was to pick up an officer—
one of high rank—and make a scene
which would prove his undoing.

“Talk of things like this will quick-
ly undermine the faith of the people
in the army,” he explained craftily.
“We must do all we can to create dis-
sension and distrust! If you su
—and I think you will prefer to suc-
ceed—we will send other girls out on
similar missions.”

| mind revolting at the thought
of this latest bit of fiendishness, I
nevertheless packed and was soon in
a town near a large army camp. It
was easy to get myself into company
of the soldiers. They were such nice
fellows—so trim, so ready for fun and
so eager to do their bit for their
country—that I found it hard to make
my statements stick.
_ Then at last I saw an officer I de-
cided would be my victim. He’ was
young Major Henry Durkitt, hand-
one and a man with a career-before

im.

I introduced myself by tripping
and falling in front of him on the

| steps of a hotel where there was a

bar. He assisted me to my feet, and
I engaged him in conversation. Soon
we were at a table together.

I was staying at a nearby tourist

- | camp, I told him, having driven down
| from New York to look for a job here. -

Soon we were talking like old
friends. I thought to myself, maybe
I can. get out of this, but as I did, I
looked * to see a familiar figure at
the bar. It was the well-dressed man
who had talked to me after the drug-
store incident. Again, Zimmerman
had me trapped.

The major offered to take me home,
and I invited him into my cabin. But
here I was in for a surprise. For as
we entered, he spoke to me by name.

“Let’s stop the foolishness, Miss
Griset. We've been trailing you for

FACES MURDER CHARGE

Edward Haight, 17-year-old laborer who confessed the kidnaping
and slaying of two children, Margaret and Helen Lynch, aged 7
and 8 years, shown in custody of State Trooper Charles Flana-
gan at Bedford Hills, N. Y. Killer was arrested in Stamford, Conn.

three months. And we want to know
who’s giving you orders.”

I was stunned—but then I under-
stood. He was an Intelligence officer,
and he knew everything about me—
except the identity of Zimmerman.
He had arranged our meeting, would
have met me even if I hadn’t staged
falling down.

I broke down, and told him every-
thing.

7 Hans is, I do not know. But
by a bitter twist of fate, I received
a letter here at the prison just yester-

day—telling me my parents were at
Lisbon, and hoped to come here soon!

What will happen to me, I also do
not know. But I hope that the aid I
have given the government in taking
Zimmerman and exposing his ring
will stand in good stead when I come
before the court. And some day, per-
haps my parents and I will be re-
united—here, in free, victorious
America! :

Hans, wherever you are—let me
hear from you. You can now throw
off the shackles of Zimmerman’s
tyranny!

Side until they heard that a $10,000
“reward had been offered for their cap-
ture. “Then we got afraid that some
of our pals would rat on us for the
dough, and we got out of town.”

They walked boldly into downtown
Pittsburgh, took a bus and spent sev-
eral weeks traveling to Cleveland, by
way of Youngstown and Warren, Ohio,
stopping over for several nights at
some of the places.

They finally were captured after
almost two months of freedom when
they attempted to hold up a Western
Union office in the Lakewood district
of Cleveland. Early in the evening
they stole a taxicab from Norman
Piccus, Cleveland driver, bound and
‘gagged him and tossed him into a field
near Lakewood. Piccus finally worked
loose from his bonds, telephoned
Lakewood police and gave them the
license number of the stolen cab.

A short time later Edward Graske
and Delmar Potts, Lakewood detec-
tives, saw the car in front of the tele-
graph office. Guns in hand, they

slipped up behind it.

aug and Turpack got out of the
car, the former with a gun in his
hand. Stepping up, the. detectives.
trained their guns on the men and
one of them shouted: “Stick em up

PENITENTIARY BREAK

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 27

or we'll let you have it!”

Maug promptly dropped his gun
onto ‘the sidewalk and Turpack, who
had left his gun in the car, surren-

* dered without resistance.

Later Maug told Detective Graske:
“It’s a good thing you had us covered
or we sure would have shot it out
with you. We didn’t have a chance
the way it happened.”

It was 12 hours after the pair had
been arrested before their identity
was established through fingerprints.
Confronted with this evidence, Maug
said: “I didn’t think you’d be smart
enough to check up on that.”

It’s just those kind of ideas in the
minds of young punks that lead to

many. crimes, when if they would -

think but a minute they would know
that they didn’t have a chance in the
world. e smarter guys are the de-
tectives and not the crooks.

Those were the kind of men whose.

escape I probably had prevented by
recalling a face which I had seen but
briefly. 10 years before in a routine
police stand-up!

| HAVE always been grateful for
my memory for faces—my “camera
eye;” for, without exaggeration, it has
saved merchants and innocent citi-

zens literally thousand of dollars. I
say this in all modesty, for this is my
work. Just as other detectives have
their specialized lines of duty, I have
made remembering faces my. life
work, and it has paid big dividends.

For instance, I remember the time
when I walked into a downtown
restaurant in Pittsburgh for a bite of
lunch. At a nearby table sat two at-
tractive women, dressed in tasteful
fashion, with perfectly waved hair,
looking for all the world like a couple
of well-to-do matrons,

I had never seen them before, yet
the moment I cast my eyes upon them
something clicked in the back of my
head. It was the memory of a Balti-
more police circular, picturing two
women who were wanted for the
shoplifting of expensive articles’ in
the best stores. j

‘Don’t look now,” I said to my
companion, “but there are a couple of
shoplifters.”

Disbelief showed quickly on my
page ges face as he turned slowly
to the table. “Are you crazy?” he
asked. “They look pretty high class.
Do you know them?”

“T know they are shoplifters, and
high-class ones,” I said. “You slip out
and ‘start checking the hotels—the


a aw ba 8 a et ix ee / av
turned his back on it and walked back to the corner. A-street From the manager they determined that the two’friends =~
sign told him that he was on Eighth Street. " . must have left about 12:15 a.m. Like actors in an exciting

His first thought was to get in touch with his parents. A drama, they again placed themselves At Ee Spot. awhere Pane es

store’s lights beckoned and he made his way to them. Change* Miller was taken from the car. ©)»

in his pockets had not. been taken and he telephoned his

‘home where his mother and father were & abarcusly awaiting

word.
“It’s me, Dad, Norman!” St
“Are you all right? Did they hurt yout cP
“No, Im all right. I’m in a store at ae Street and the
river.’ Be
‘Stay riehe there
Thus was Norman eee returned to Te family and then,

with the help of this boy who had the mind of an astute.
detective, began one: of the most intensive searches au-—
thorities ever conducted in the city of New York. As soon -
as he was fed and rested, Norman paced experts rom the
_Federal Bureau of Investigation. ;

The next step was to check every site Seiion | in "ihe ee

“to determine the scheduled time the girl sang the song
which Miller had noted. With the exact moment jotted down,

plus the youngster’s excellent judgment as to the passage, © —~

of time, it was determined that his belief was correct and.
he could have been taken nowhere — but lower pane
hattan.

“Church bells TEES. ‘baile Be a fecting hall’ , a ae & eee

tective mused. “It might have been a church with a recrea-
tion center attached. Sounds fantastic . .: epolding a Bidpaped.;
lad in a church hall but it’s just possible.. ~~

“Well, Miller, we’re going looking for churches and bi
-liard halls—and there are plenty of both in New York City!” -

Miller laughed. “There can’t be too many for me,” he,

replied. “You can bet I’m even more anxious to catch those

») With utmost care, he recounted every detail of his ex-

i periences from the moment the men stepped up to his car in fellows than you are. I know they’re there someplace. And ~

i Brooklyn until he removed the tape from his eyes at the again" or not—l’ Ul know e seat spot if we ever come to it.

{ river’s edge. ; again!” week Pra cnce! oe

i He heard how his friend, Sidney, had driven at Bren neck

speed to his father’s “home and récounted ¢ircurstances of HE SEARCH ysis not destined to be. * , simple matter:

& the kidnaping. His father, they told him, had received several Day after day, the dogged hunt went on. The youth,

| telephone calls from the kidnapers. ‘When ‘he convinced accompanied by the Federal agents and plainclothesmen,
them that he could not possibly raise $25,000, they agreed toured the city in a car which bore no mark to reveal its*
to take all he could get hold of—$13,000. The money was purpose or the ‘nature of its passengers. Miller’s mind
placed in the ash-can, according to directions, and then the whirled with an interminable march of churches, bells
family had waited in fear and anxiety for some further word _ tolling, billiard halls, meeting places with shuffling of feet.
of their son. .. A thousand times he ‘lived again the night of the kidnaping.

Over and over, he assured them that he had not been And yet he knew that they had not again approached the
beaten or injured in any way. Soft-spoken government place where he had been held. There was not the-familiar
agents listened carefully as he.told of his strange experi- feel to one place. At the next, it was tao long a walk from
ence. Their eyes lit with keen interest when the alert the curb to the entrance. Here, the steps were too short or
youngster began to unfold his own deductions during the too long. In this place, one turned to the left a she top of
kidnaping. ‘the stairs instead of the right. :

“It had to be in Manhattan,” Miller said flatly, “y iow On and on went the merciless searth wile the valentiess
we went over a bridge and aes yes—that was just a few Pen crossed out address after address of place of worship and
minutes after hearing ‘A Tisket, A. Tasket’ being sung over P0ol room. It was weeks after the start when the  WEary.
the radio.” trailers took inventory.

The Federal man in charge snapped his fingers. “There’s “Whew,” the detective who ae the bet mopped his brow,
only one way to handle this case,” he said. “I congratulate “we've checked up 200 churches ang tbe billiard halls. That’s
you for making it possible even to work that way. We've lmost the works, I guess. i i Aes oa
got to do the whole thing backwards. It'll take time anda ~+A Federal agent turned to Miller. How d you ‘feel, son?”
lot of investigating but with the leads you’re furnished us, Let’s go,” the stubborn Be See we ve gone this
I’m sure it can be done. We'll start with the movie.” far, there’s no use giving up now! ;

Miller, now twice as eager on the chase as he had been Again they were traveling in the rolling car. Miller half.
while marking the trail, led the investigators to the theater Closed his eyes. He felt he could do more effective work by
that he and Lehrer had attended on the aCe of July 24th, trusting once more to his sense of hearing. They were

. >threading their way through cramped, narrow streets. He
Demetrius Gula was a one Willfam Jacknis was a race Heord Boys: shouting newspapers and the rattle of the elez;
time restaurant owner with a track tout. He was once con- Liens it was distinctly familiar. The car swan zt oe
- , police record of several jail victed of arson. Federal agents curb. te
Re, sentences against him. He proved that he was also bape “This’ll be No. 701,” the dciecuue. uttered “Ukrainia
f & was one of the kidnapers. cated in the “snatch.” Hall, 217 East Sixth street, Manhattan. Better check it off.”

‘ ag ae eer “Wait a minute,” Miller held Up. a eng, “Tr wouldn’ { be
too quick this time.”

With utmost care, while the nice watelicd hint’ clo ly,
the youngster walked haltingly from the car to a doorway...
He felt goose-fiesh on his arms. It was the right distance
The investigators were beside him now. SHUG ated -the~
way up the inside stairway.

“One, two, three, four,” he counted, “five, six, seven Steps
Turn to the right and here’ sa door!” , Ee,

They entered. With closed eyes, the youngster” ‘walked
. toward a corner. He felt about him and his hand struck a.
chair. He tried it, opened his eyes and a grin spread: cro
his face as he looked at his companions oe

“Feels right,” he said. °= . = 4, Bae

A detective said, “Wait” and went ‘out! ‘A moment. later
they heard the shuffling of feet, the scraping of a chair. Th
detective came. back. “Meeting room down the hall,” he sai
cryptically. While they digested this-information, “a@-clear
sound vibrated in the air. It was the peal of a church, bell fe
Stronger, with pulsing rhythm, it beat upon: their ears.

“That’s it,” Miller whispered hoarsely. “Pll never forget it.
That's the bell I heard. Everything fits,” his voice rose in his
excitement, “the steps, the Senet and now the bell—but ——

“J know, ” said the detective x Continued ‘on page 3

Peat beh


Norman Miller told authorities about every sound .
he heard while in the hands of the kidnapers.
These clues led Federal agents to the hideout. ©

Miller walked in back of the car to the other side and climbed
behind the wheel. He turned the key in the ignition and
stepped on the starter. Just as the motor caught hold, a form

_ took shape out of the darkness. A foot banged on the run-

ning board. eae

“Don’t move that car,” a thick voice erowled.

Miller felt the hair prickle along his scalp. The inoughe
“Holdup,” flashed through his mind. From the corner of his
eye, he could see a revolver gleaming dully in the hand_of
the man outside. Lehrer reached quickly for the door on his

side. Another shape appeared there instantly. When Miller

found his voice, he said:

“What is this? What do you want?”

. “Shut up and get out of that machine, ” the stranger
snapped. “Stay where you are,” he ordered Lehrer. nt

Miller stepped gingerly to the street while the man kept
his gun trained on his stomach. For a moment, the stranger
addressed himself to Lehrer, fang ape a voice
he was obviously trying to disguise.

' “Tf you ever want to see this friend of yours again, ” hé told
the goggle- eyed youth, “remember what I’m saying. I’m
only going to say it once. This is a kidnap, see? We’re taking
him with us and we don’t want any monkey-business.

“You beat it to his father as fast as you can. Tell Miller
that we want $25,000 in small, unmarked bills. He’s to put
the money in a package and throw it in the ash-can at
Twenty-third Street and First Avenue in Manhattan.

“We'll be watching. If there’s any funny work, cops or
anything...” he gestured threateningly with the revolver.
“Well, you'll find this pal of yours in the East River. Now
get going... and no slips!”

Miller watched as his white-faced friend moved over into

*

the driver’s seat and threw the car into gear. Doors slammed

and the machine shot down the street. He was grabbed
roughly by the arm and the strangers fell in on either side
of him. Their footsteps echoed ominously along the still

. street as they walked rapidly to where another car stood at

the curb with lights out. Again the guttural voice—‘‘Get in.”

“Listen,” Miller remonstrated, ‘you know what happens

when you try to pull stuff like this. ]-——

The gun dug viciously into his side. Wincing, he clamped
shut his mouth and climbed to the middle of the front seat.
As he sat down, one of the men took out a roll of adhesive

: had been perfect, apparently done by experts who knew |

tape and tore off several long strips. oh heavy hand ‘caught

mouth. He barely had time to close his eyes before other
strips pressed down on them, | s

car moved away. But there was one thing he could do which

~ he slumped low in the seat so that he could not easily be seen ®:
- by passing cars or by pedestrians. Obviously there was no

destined to make in the action-packed near future.

-Tadio .!

“ Police officers are shown working near the furnace
in Ukranian Hall where the kidnap gang took their
victims -while they negotiated for the ransom.

¥.

him under the chin and knocked his head back against the _
seat. Wide pieces of sticky tape were slapped across. his

-“That’s just so’s you won’t see and talk too pens ” the
stranger said with an mene laugh. “And remember,
this thing you feel is loaded.”

HOUGHTS TUMBLED ene Mhrough : Miller's”
mind. He couldn’t see a thing. The quick work of gagging

what they were about. He couldn’t shout out for help as the

the kidnapers had not thought pe akees see to stop. I
was to prove their undoing. . :
He could hear! ~ 7
—~Miter pulted-his shattered ania Tooether At a command,

hope at the moment that he could escape. With rare courage
and foresight, he determined to Strain his ears for every
sound that might help tell him where he was band what was
going on. “i 4

“The machine had ground into gear Beg was Diotcetive at.
a moderate speed down the street on which it had been
parked. The gagged and blinded student noted the fact—.
but so did his kidnapers! Within a few moments, they began °
a series of maneuvers, turning corners and driving: through -
alleys, designed to make him lose his sense of direction. <=...

The sensation of moving in the dark was eerie. He heard a
slight click on the dash-board as one of the men turned on
the radio. In a moment, the swing blare of “A Tisket, A
Tasket,” filled the car. A girl with a husky voice was wailing,
“I lost my yellow basket. If she doesn’ t bring it back I think :
that I shall die....”. . 7

It all seemed like a dream: Sneredibie: Miller ‘wondered |
what she would think if she knew the circumstances of one
of her listeners. Ponderous shoulders pressed against him on.
both sides. He made a mental note—one of many he. was

“Two minutes after iap ing .. + tisket a tasket on n the

2.


28 FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE

ae The machine slid onward. There was the bump of cobble-
. stones, the soft purr of tires dropping into street-car tracks.
The listening kidnap victim noted each variation. The man

. on his right jabbed an elbow into his ribs. a

“Just do as you’re told, kid,” he advised, “and you won’t

‘be hurt. But your old man better come ‘across with that
@ wwenvr-fve grand.” :

Still as death, the youth slumped in his seat. He heard
street sounds vaguely familiar as from another world. The
car turned again and seemed to be climbing slightly.. And
then came the second reward for his keen ears. The whine

a few minutes, city sounds faded and there were the dull
noises of a great span. From far below, the moan of a labor-
ing tug floated up tohim. “- . . 06.6 8 ge
~ He knew then, that he was being taken to lower Manhat-
tan. Miller was as sure of it through his super-sensitive
hearing as though his eyes had been untaped and he himself

was driving the car. That, surely, would be an important’

~ note. :

' Confident that their victim was helpless, the kidnapers
drove on, exchanging cryptic remarks occasionally, sure of
themselves in their ignorance. The car jounced down’ the
bridge approach and Miller, straining for clues, caught the

‘typical cries of urchins on the lower East Side hawking
morning newspapers, the clatter of an “El” train. Then there
was silence and a moment later the car swung to the curb. -
. Thé men got out and grabbed him by the arms. They
hustled him forward toward a door through which he stum-
bled. There was a command... “Steps.” —

Like a robot, he mounted them, a hand holding his arm
in a vise-like grip. He was thinking even more clearly now,
despite his seemingly hopeless position. “One, two, three,”
he counted to himself, “four, five, six, seven steps. Turn to
the right. Another door I suppose. Yep. Key in the lock.”

Falteringly, he moved into the room and was guided toa

. chair. His kidnapers made no move to take off the adhesive
from his eyes or mouth. The guttural voice was in his ear.
“One of us is staying right here. Try to take off that tape
jnd you’ll get a gun.butt right over the head, understand?
f your father comes through, you’ll be out of ‘here in no
_ time. If he don’t—well, you won’t worry long.”, =. ‘
Then began one of the strangest waits which a “snatch”
victim ever has lived to tell about. In utter darkness, the
Bagged student sat with assumed dejection showing ‘in his

very posture. The door slammed and there was the metallic .

clink of the key. Footsteps returned inside the room and a
chair squeaked as the unknown companion prepared him-
self for guard duty.

Sleep for Miller was out of the question. His mind was .

painfully awake and filled with naturally troublesome mis-

_ want. Better drink it.”

~ grimly of the river. aise ne,
_ _ There was‘no reassuring word from the kidnapers. Quick- -

As though his life depended on it, Miller hung on each |

chime of the bell, trying to determine its pitch, its approxi-'
mate direction and distance. He fixed his computations firmly

- in his mind. After a time, the bell fell silent and there was

another wait. There came a low knock on the door, it was
opened and a moment later he felt the tape being jerked
from his mouth. - ;

A tepid cup was thrust into his hand. “Some coffee, if you

He drank the acrid potion eagerly. It felt good on his raw

“Click! click, click!" .. 4.) #e' eee
. Miller picked up his ears. A new and strange sound Had

» made itself known. He waited. It was repeated—click, click,

click. He tried to analyze it; it was as if a child were striking

marbles together. And then suddenly, it flashed into his —

mind. It was the sound of billiard balls striking against one

very building where he was being held. He gfinned in-
wardly. He was learning things. = #i 8

Throughout the day, the sounds of the pool balls came to
him. At a time he estimated as late afternoon, there was a

new development. Many feet began pounding on the stairs
and at first with-an excited pumping of his heart, he thought °

it might be a police squad. But the thud went past the door
to his improvised prison and he heard the shuffle continue
in a nearby room. There was much scraping of chairs, the
crack of a gavel and confused muttering. Sees

Night had fallen before he was again approached. Hands
jerked him up on his feet and he was led out of the building.
Desperately, he wanted to ask his captors whether the ran-
som was paid; whether he was to be freed, or—he thought

ly, they thrust him into a car. By the feel of the upholstery,
Miller knew that it was the same machine in which he had
originally been kidnaped. There was another drive, not so
long this time and no crossing of bridges. Then the car
stopped and with beating pulses, the youth waited for the
next move—freedom or death. : ees
. “Get out,” said the heavy voice, “and stand still until

you’ve heard us go.” Miller’s heart rose. “Remember, not a —

move.” Goby
- Trembling with relief, the youngster stepped, gropingly
from the car and stood stock-still where his feet landed. He

“heard the car pull away and then with frantic relief he tore
- at the tape on his face. He sucked in great mouthfuls of cool -
night air and stared about him. Just ahead was a river. He _ 0S

throat. Once more the tape was plastered across his face and tas

of tires on a stretch that could be nothing but a bridge. For he took up his silent vigil.

~ Miller knew that the building also housed a meeting hall. - :

Foe NgN:

another. There must be a pool table, perhaps several, in the ae

Joseph S. Sacoda, who faced
kidnap charge, first denied all
knowledge of the crime. Later
he surprised the prosecution

John Virga, fruit peddier and
pants presser, protested his
innocence in the face of damn-
ing evidence. His wife offered

givings. His father, he knew, would do anything within his
power to obtain his release. But $25,000! That was an awful
lot of money to get together in a hurry. Would the kidnapers
take less and let him go? Or would they be furious, slug him ~

and—as they said—would his pal, Sidney, find his body in
the East River? ae

Cold sweat stood out on Miller’s forehead at the gruesome
mental picture. Before, there had been the numbing shock
of the abduction and the active thrill of riding with the kid-
napers. Now there was nothing but awesome silence and the
unwelcome opportunity to consider the peril of his situation.
With a great effort, he tore his mind from the subject and
concentrated again on the possibility of picking up clues
which might have some future value in capturing the gang—
‘if he lived.

Rustling of pages told him that his captor was reading,
evidently with no intention of dozing off. He did not dare
touch the tight adhesive over his eyes for fear of bringing a
steel butt crashing down on his head. No, it was better just
to wait and listen. :

‘OURS CREPT BY with nothing but the infrequent rum-

(A ble of a truck on the street. And then, at last, with a

clearness that brought Miller’s heart leaping toward his

throat, came the peal of a church bell! He wondered if the

~ familiar, comforting sound ever had meant so much before

to a listener. Now, more strongly, rhythmically, the clang-

ing bell told its story of daylight, people nearby hurrying to
church, the world outside waking up! _ ee

_investigators an alibi. by pleading guilty.

a


The Clue of the |
Listening Victim

(Continued from page 29 )

\

FRUNT PAGE DETECTIVE

and murder. He was such a nice man.

I just can’t believe it. Why, he used to. .

call me ‘Ma’.” ; ;
‘Mrs. Virga, worried when her hus-
band failed to come home, got in
touch with the missing persons bureau
of the police department. She was
vehement in her defense when she was

told of his arrest.

who had gone out. “The billiard balls.
I found that, too. There’s a pool room
upstairs. Nobody playing now but sit
still. ll knock a few around myself.”
The wait that really was less than a
minute seemed endless. And then fin-
ally came Miller’s supreme reward for
the courage he had shown when older
men might have been too nerve-
wracked to concentrate.
“Click!” came a sharp sound. “Click,
tek, click!’ i
Miller nodded. The lips of the Fed-
eral agents set in grim lines. “That’s
all we want to know,” one snapped.
“You can rest for a while now, son. We
know where we are and we’ve got other
work todo,” -
Even at the moment, they could only
guess the amount of work that was to
be done and the startling denouement
of the case. Working swiftly and quiet-
ly, the agents learned the identity of
every person who had had access to the
hall. Scores of surprised and indignant
suspects were questioned, police files
were checked and finally the investiga-
tors were holding four men who often

__ “I know it can’t be true,” she sobbed.
“He came home every day at five

o’clock and he very seldom went out -
again except when we went to the

movies together. Every Sunday we all
went to church since he got out of jail.
That was in May, 1937 and he promised
to go straight. ’'m sure he has done so.
a hasn’t been in any trouble since
en.” ~ ;
Earl Habell, landlord of the apart-

ment where Gula lived with his wife -

had a good word to say. “He was a fine
tenant,” Habell told police. Jacknis,

too, was described as ‘a “decent, re-

spectable, educated man.” But police
were becoming increasingly sure of
their ground. Under steady question-
ing, Gula and Sacoda finally broke and
J. Edgar Hoover, head of the Federal
Bureau of Investigation, himself made
the announcement that the two had
confessed they kidnaped Fried, shot
him when ransom negotiations fell
through, and then burned his body in
the furnace of Ukrainian Hall!
Horrified at the confessions, crowds
gathered at the rear entrance of New

frequented the hall and had police ~-*°Frk police headquarters.

_records. ‘

Their net brought in swarthy De-
metrius Gula, 30, of 15 Goerck Street,
former restaurant manager and jail-
bird; Joseph S. Sacoda, 27, of 240 East
19th Street, once convicted of robbery;
William Jacknis, 27, race track tout

-once convicted of arson, and John
Virga, 34, fruit peddler and pants
resser of 24 Rutledge Street, Brook-
yn, who had served time in Sing Sing
for robbery.

Police swarmed over the building,
probing behind walls, ripping up the
cellar floor. A machine-gun, a box con-
taining counterfeit Federal revenue
stamps and a gruesome. find—thirty
small bones were turned up. The bones,
at first thought to be human, were
pronounced those of animals by Medi-

_ cal Examiner Thomas A. Gonzales. But
police were convinced they had uncov-
ered a desperate gang.

What, for instance, did these men
-know about the mysterious disappear-
ance of wealthy Arthur Fried, White
Plains contractor who had disappeared
the December before? How about Ben-
jamin Farber, Brooklyn coal merchant
who had been seized and held until
$2,000 was paid?

FOR DAYS, the suspects steadfastly
declared their complete innocence. -
If Miller had been held in that hall,
they said, they knew nothing about it.
Nor did they know what had happened
to Fried or Farber. Yes, they came.
there to play pool and meet friends.
The hall was owned by Gula’s father.
What could be more natural than that
they should pick it as a meeting place?

The owners of the rooming house -
where Sacoda lived with his wife spoke
highly of the prisoner. The landlady ¥
even called police after G-men had en- ~

' tered the apartment to search for evi-
dence. ;

“They were very polite and showed

. badges,” ‘she said, “but I’m sure they
were mistaken. Mr. Sacoda couldn’t
_. have anything to do with kidnaping :

~ But the machinery of the law, was to

work effectively. The kidnapers were
arraigned before Magistrate Thomas
A. Aurelio in Felony court. Miller and
his father were present. The latter, en-
raged at the sight of the men held for
seizing his son, shook his fist in the
courtroom and shouted:

“It is enough to drive you crazy
when you think of bringing up your
son, sending him to college and slaving
for him and then to have these dirty
rats kidnap him and possibly kill him.”

Magistrate Aurelio paid public
tribute to young Miller and the investi-
gators on the case for the unusual man-
ner in which they had tracked down

‘the gang. He said:
: « “Maria Corelli had the right idea

when she pointed out that crime holds
within itself the seeds of punishment.
Sometimes that seed ripens quickly.
Sometimes it takes years to grow, but

- it is always there and it generally takes

root. in a mere, slight circumstance so
very commonplace and casual a whole
result can spring up. The innocent
church bells and the clicking of billiard
balls are but two of the things that the

‘criminals overlooked. In tracing ‘the

crime backwards, the detectives did a
very fine piece of work in this case.
The people owe them and Mr. Miller a
deep debt of gratitude which I am
happy to express at this time.”
Authorities moved against the
cringing Gula and Sacoda t. Invok-
ing the new State kidnap law, the dis-
trict attorney’s office obtained indict-
ments calling for the death penalty

despite the fact that Fried’s body had ~

not been found. Previously, it had been
axiomatic that no murder charge could
be brought unless the corpus delicti

could be established. But the new law -

presumed that a murder had been
committed when a kidnap victim
could not be found. ~~ Sry

In a packed and heavily "guarded

courtroom, the first trial was held. The
prosecution introduced evidence to
show that Fried had been driving alone

‘Street, Manhattan. Direct contact was
‘established January 3rd, Hugo testi- #

‘tion added. According to the confes-

from his mother’s home in White —
Plains, N. Y., to his own in December »
pithe kulnaping’ it wee mened oot
he kidnaping, it was i was
a mistake as the intended victim was
Hugo Fried, brother of Arthur.
Arthur’s car later was found in a
parking lot in’ Mamaroneck, N. Y., but,
no one knew how it got there nor had
anyone seen it parked. = “ PRT
Telephone calls began coming «
through almost immediately to the
Fried family and Hugo, the brother, at-
tempted to make contact and obtain
Arthur’s release. Ransom of $200,000
was demanded and Hugo was ordered _
to toss the money from a theater win- ~*~
dow on Second Avenue near Sixth

fied. He added:

“TY could telf there was something
wrong. I got more suspicious and they
couldn’t bring me the messages I asked. .
I didn’t carry out the order.”

It was well he didn’t, the prosecu-

sions Arthur Fried was already dead

. and his body cremated. Why the kid- |

napers shot him was never brought out
but it was believed to be in anger over
ithe mistaken identity and the failure
and panic about quick ransom. It was se
established, however, that negotiations ~
had been carried on after Fried was
dead. Thirty-four telephone calls in all
were made. ¥y 5 ares
Attacking the confessions introduced
by Federal agents, defense lawyers de-
clared that it would be impossible to
put a man’s body in the furnace of the
social hall. The prosecution met the
contention with a photograph showing
two men, both larger than Fried, in the
furnace (unlit for the occasion) and
peering out the open door! A
Gula and Sacoda were found guilty
and sentenced to death. This, it is be-
lieved, is the first case in modern juris-
prudence in which the supreme penalty
has been levied without the body of a
victim being found. is :
But authorities were not yet satis-
fied despite the fact that the back of
the gang was broken. Gula, Sacoda,
Jacknis and Virga were again brought .
into court for trial before General Ses-
sions Judge John J. Freschi for the es
kidnaping of young Miller and Farber..
Authorities wanted particularly to ©
obtain further convictions against <a
Gula and Sacoda so that they could be . antes
held in the event higher courts re- ~~
versed the death sentences which were
having their first official tests.. As the
four faced Miller and Farber, Gula,
Sacoda and Jacknis suddenly pleaded
guilty to their kidnaping to the great ~
surprise of the prosecution. aes
Virga, however, decided to make a _-
desperate bid to keep his old sentence
on the robbery charge from being -:
made even longer. Returned to prison
to serve at least ten more years on
parole violation following his recent
arrest, he saw life behind prison bars
staring him in the face. Ae Se Se
pses IT WAS that Miller’s dramatie
story of how the gang was traced at
last became court record. Farber, too,
told a weird tale of being kidnaped in
peas car on the morning of April

~ I came out of the Brighton Beach “© ;
branch of the National City bank,”

Farber said. “As I got into my car, I
heard a man say, ‘Hello Benny.’ A man
with a gun was getting into my ca

(Continued on page 36)


Roberts. Hugo obeyed. He waited at the
bar until the barkeeper called that someone
named Roberts was wanted on the phone.

“Go into the washroom,” he was told.
“On top of the rack you'll find a letter in
an envelope. Read it and then burn it
out in front of the bar.”

Hugo followed directions. On top of
the towel rack he found the letter. His
heart leaped when he opened the page. It
was in Arthur’s writing!

His hands shaking as he held it, Hugo
read the letter:

Dear Sisters and Brothers: :

I am being held for a ransom of
$200,000, which is to be in no larger
denomination than $100 bills. I am
feeling fine and being taken care of
very well, only hoping to get home
real soon. j j

Hoping you will do your utmost
to help me out of the embarrassing
Position, as you know I will do the
same for each and every one of
you.

Thanking you all from the bgt-
tom of my heart, with love to
you all and dearest mother; and

Police, above, are digging up Ukrainian Hall's cellar floor
seeking evidence of kidnap victims. Norman Miller of Brook-
lyn, left, was released by the gang after ransom was paid.

last, but not least, love to my dear wife and boy.
Sincerely yours,
; Arthur Fried.

P.S. I was told to write the following. My life
depends on what you do in regard to the letter.
For myself let me say this, please do as they
instruct you to do because from what little I have
seen they are confident that they will accomplish
what they say.

Don’t try to pull any fast ones,

P.S. Depending on your answer to them when
they call you as arranged, they will probably have
me with them,

Slowly, his face grim, Hugo Fried folded the letter

and put it in his pocket. In order
to save the letter he had decided
upon a ruse, The envelope in
his hand, he walked out to the
sidewalk. There he lighted a
match and set the envelope on fire.
While it burned he looked
furtively around him. He saw no
one watching him with anything
more than idle curiosity.

. Heavy hearted, he returned to
the garage and showed the letter
, to the G-men. They took it
downtown to the FBI office for

DYNAMIC

Doone <tee

aa

Fried forgot about it, but he couldn’t forget
the faces of the two men he’d seen. They
would be etched in his memory as_ long
as he lived. Some day ... but he passed that
by. He had to get out of here first. Why didn’t
his family meet the demands? He knew the
fellows were in constant communication with
them, Hugo especially. They told him so.

A little later one of them went out again. When
he returned Fried could catch the satisfaction in
his voice.

“Well, it won’t be long now, fella. Hugo’s
raising dough. I’m calling him back at ten.”

Fried was deeply relieved. That meant freedom
was almost at hand. Freedom to return to his
wife and boy! He felt suddenly tired. The strain
was telling on him.

The captive was being kept in the bedroom of
the small apartment. He was entirely unaware
of the events which transpired a few minutes later
in the living room. It was 9 o’clock. Two of the
kidnapers were there.

A third man entered excitedly. He waved a
paper in front of the other two.

“Look! The paper’s got it!”

A huge headline told the story of the kidnaping
and the demand for $200,000 ransom.

They looked at each other, all of them panicky.

‘What are we going to do?” one of them asked.
He's seen us!”

“Bump him off,” one of them said grimly.

20

“Kill him, Danny?” said another, horror-
stricken.

“Yeah, and bury him in the cellar down on
Sixth street. He’s seen our faces. He knows
our voices. We can’t take a chance and let him
loose. He’s bound to identify our pictures.”

While they talked, time passed. Ten o’clock,
the hour they’d promised Hugo they’d call about
turning his brother free, came and went. The

_ |phone call wasn’t made.

“He’s seen our faces,” one kept saying. “He
knows the inside of your apartment, Joe. He
got a good look at our faces and he’s bound to
recognize our pictures.”’

“Well,” said Joe finally, ‘‘if that’s the way you
feel about it, all right. What are you going to
do?”

They talked some more. Then Joe went in
to see Fried. He asked him how he felt about
being released.

“Gee, that’s great,” he said heartily. ‘You
fellows don’t have to worry. I'll give you my
word.”

Joe went back to the living room and told
Danny who stepped into the bedroom.

“We're going to take you out so you can talk
to your brother yourself to convince him that
you're all right, see? We'll tell your brother he’s
to have the money to pay us.”

“That’s fine,” Fried said with a sigh of relief.
“T’m glad to hear it.”

“Okay,” said Danny. “Now look. I’m going
to blindfold you. You’ve got to help us. We’re

This closet con-
cealed a secret
entrance to the
mob’s headquarters.
Below, left to right.
are: Mobster Dan
Gula; Asst. District
Attorney Rosen-
blum; Gangster Wil-
liam Jacknis; a de-
tective, and Mobster
John Virga.

* K detective, left, has custody of a typewriter and ma-
_ chine gun found in the mob’s hideout. Arthur Fried was
driving the car above when kidnapers seized him.

Be, |

|
he ‘suddenly had disappeared. Later they were to learn that
Fried’s car had been forced to the curb that night.

Fried-had brought his car to a stop, opened the window and
leaned out with an angry, “What's the big idea?”

A man got out of the other car: and approached, pointing a

“revolver at Fried’s head.

“Shut up, Fried,” he said roughly. He went around to the

~ other door and got in. “Okay. Drive on.”

Fried obeyed. He knew he didn’t have a chance. When he
started the car, he noticed the other one following behind ‘him.
He kept on until they reached the Rosedale Gardens. There

‘the gunman beside him ordered him to get into the other car.

“This is a kidnap,” he was told. “Keep your trap shut, and

“you'll be okay, see?”
Fried nodded. He was willing to obey. He wanted to get
. free and back to’ his family.
- In the gunmen’s car they fastened adhesive tape over ‘his eyes
‘and put a pair of dark glasses on him to hide the tape. Then
“they drove on. :
Some time later the gunmen halted the car and held a hurried
) conference. Then the car started up again. few minutes
later the driver pulled up to the curb. Fried was told to get out.
The kidnapers led him: into a_ building and sat him

besa down.
close examination, telling Hugo to remain near the phone.  . Anxious to get along with the men in order to make his re-
That afternoon the phone rang again. | lease quicker, Fried got them talking. They were suspicious #95
“Fello, Fried,” said the caller. “This is one of the boys. Are" but in a rough way took good care of him. The next morning 4

you going to raise that dough ?” they brought him coffee and rolls, and then ordered him to write

“T haven’t got that much money,” replied Hugo. his family.

“How much can you raise?” _ Fried obeyed. Pencil and paper were put on a table in front |
arge ’ “T don’t know. I'll have to see,” of him. One of the men stood behind and took. off the glasses |
reau, “Okay. We'll call back.” ; ahd adhesive tape. The light in the room was dim.
olice Hugo conferred with the family and the G-men. They ad-* “Keep your eyes in front,” one of them snarled.
ation vised him to keep the negotiations open. Ruefully, Hugo said A hard object was jabbed into his back. Ata command he
uce’s they’d have to; at least until .they got the ransom down to a__ picked up the pencil and wrote while the men dictated. When |
olice figure they could pay. ; ‘ ‘he finished, they started to put the tape back over his eyes.

-olo- bos Twice more that day the kidnapers called and dickered about , ‘ ;
more ny the ransom money. At Hugo’s insistence, they kept paring it Ransom Is Demanded

ze In ’ down: ;

VES of At 8:17 they called again. FRIED objected. It wasn’t, necessary now, was it? The tape
lere, ee “Hello, Fried. This is one of the boys, How about $50,000? hurt his eyes. The men consulted with each other. Then they
yself. (bee! Can you raise that?” ae ene agreed. it wasn’t necessary.

lahan ° Hugo thought for along moment. It would mean a‘terrific “We're going to keep shields over your eyes, though,” he was
irgest sacrifice, but he knew the whole family would be.only too glad told. ;

rings to do it in order to get Arthur back, alive and unharmed. The next two days dragged on interminably. Fried stopped
good “T think so,” he replied. Then, remembering the Lindbergh trying to keep track of the time. There was only one break in
scrip- case where the kidnaper carried on negotiations after the Lind- the monotony. That came late Monday afternoon. The men
bergh baby had been killed, he demanded: “I want proof he’s . had gone out for some food for him. When they came back
inued. okay.” . nt -.”.” with a container of coffee and a sandwich, Fried reached into the
vb. In \ “Well, Fried, if you will pay the money we will let you talk air, blindly, for it.

» store f to your brother first.” ‘ RSS The shields which covered his eyes fell off!

ed the oe “T want to know if-he’s living,” Hugo said angrily. One of the men swore. Hurriedly he put the food down and
ployes a “Well, I'll tell you what. You scrape up the dough. . We'll jerked the shields back over Fried’s eyes.
‘rs for call back at 10 o’clock with Arthur.” - eas * ° “Tm. sorry,” Fried apologized.

y can’t Ten o'clock came and went. The telephone did’ not ring. “Skip it,” came the gruff answer. “Wasn’t your fault.”
espon- Days were to pass before again they would hear from the “That’s swell,” snarled another. “Can’t you fix shields any
kidnapers of Arthur Fried. Meanwhile, the family and G-men _ better than that?”
wever, pondered what had been the fate of the young contractor when “Ah, forget it. What's the odds?”

AMIC . DETECTIVE tt sPiab ce 19


going to take you to a place where there'll
be some people sitting around. You've
got to pretend you’re drunk, see?”

Fried laughed light-heartedly.

“Sure. That’s easy. Let’s go.”

The four of them went out to the kid-
napers’ car. They drove a short distance
and the car pulled up to the curb. Two
of them got out and held Fried, who
staggered as they led him into a building
and down a flight of stairs,

Fried sniffed the warm cellar air as
they stood him alongside a furnace.

“Okay, Fried. Ina minute we're going
to take you out through a room down here
where there’s some people sitting around
that’s working with us. We've got to
keep the blindfold on because we don’t
want you to see them.”

Fried nodded and relaxed.

The two kidnapers: glanced at each
other nervously. One went over and shut.
the heavy door. The other took a re-
volver out of his pocket. Fried stood,
hands at his side, the blindfold covering
his eyes, waiting.

The gunman raised the revolver. He
put it up to Fried’s right temple. With-
out hesitation he pulled the trigger.
There was a sharp report. Fried
crumpled to the floor. He moaned once
and lay still.

Without saying a word the two
murderers jerked the clothes off him.

[Continued on page 63]

Arthur Fried disappeared from in front of the Fried family home,
above. Less than a year later, G-men captured the gang which had
made a business of kidnaping.

Benjamin Farber, right, coal dealer, was one of the
victims fortunate enough to gain his freedom from
the ruthless snatchers after ransom was paid,


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TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES, Februar

The Story Thus Far:

ON December 4th, 1937, Arthur Fried,
New York business man, is snatched
by kidnapers. While ransom terms are
being discussed, the ruthless members of
the. mob, afraid of discovery, decide to
get rid of their victim. In the basement
of the Ukrainian Hall they shoot him,
afterwards cremating his body in the
huge furnace. Although their victim is
dead, they make further attempts to
collect ransom money, but are foiled.
Short of funds, the kidnapers stage sev-
eral holdups. Then, on April 18th, 1938,
they make another snatch. This time,
Benjamin Farber, a prosperous Brooklyn
coal merchant, is the victim. His broth-
er Irving is approached for ransom and
while arrangements are pending, ‘the
-plotters grow impatient, and consider
getting rid of their captive. “Is the fur-
nace still going over at Ukrainian Hall?”
asks Pasty-Face, the leader... .

The Story Continues:
“ Parr THrer -

HE phlegmatic kidnaper who acted
I as guard showed surprising speed

as he quickly slipped out of the
hide-away room to take up his
station as look-out man in the hall, | The
Rat knelt down at the window and
peered under the drawn blind. The short,
‘Squat thug leaned casually against the
wall and watched with almost imper-
sonal interest while Pasty-Face, the kid-
nap boss, brought the muffled gun in
line with Ben Farber’s head.
Effectively blindfolded with wide
strips of adhesive tape which ran around
his head like a bandage, the victim was
unaware of how close he was to being
murdered at that moment. But just then

the fifth member of the kidnap mob, an.

impeccably dressed individual with a
deeply tanned face—a man of whose
presence Farber was aware but who had
not spoken a word in his hearing—shook
his head and rushed forward. He pushed
Pasty-Face’s gun arm away from the
victim’s head ‘and _gesticulated wildly
with his hands.

“What’s the matter?”
growled.

The other motioned that he wanted to
speak to the leader outside.

“Okay, but you better make it snap-
py,” Pasty-Face said as he walked toward
the door. He let Farber’s topcoat slip to
the floor and put the revolver back into
his hip pocket. Outside he asked, “What’s
the matter? You going yellow?”

“Listen—that fellow is a friend of
mine.”

' Pasty-Face regarded his confederate
queerly.

The latter was the “finger man” in

Pasty-Face

BY MICHAEL STERN

Special Investigator for

True Detective

—

1940 vicki

IDNAP COMBINE«

26

TRUP DETECTIVE MYSTERIES


ne Benjamin Farber (opposite page) the snatch. F riendship was a word whose

a expresses joy and relief at his escape definition Pasty-Face could give, if
bine (Below) Norman Mifgesase -Prese, Dut whose meaning ‘he could
: Male 2 not comprehend. ra
Suction gut Fer baat eee _ The leader wanted Farber killed and !
cial Agents on the trail of the mob disposed of immediately. He was cold

and wholly indifferent to the sufferings
of others. He saw in Farber, as he had |
seen in Arthur Fried, not a human being,
but a commercial object of high value. : |
Because he could realize this value
whether Farber were dead or alive, he
could conceive of no sensible argument
for letting the victim live any longer,
especially since his release might furnish -
the G-men with a lead in an otherwise
clueless crime.
“So what if he is your friend?” Pasty-
Face asked.
“You don’t have to kill him. I tell you,
the family will come through with as
much as they can lay their hands on. |
And when you turn him loose, he won’t |
say a word to the police.”
Pasty-Face considered the matter.
“Give the family this one chance to |
come through with the ransom,” the
finger man persisted.
“Okay. They’ve got it, but this is their |

last chance.” :

From a purely financial standpoint he
could see some merit in his confederate’s
argument. If all the victims were to be
killed outright, then the families might
withhold payment of the ransom since
they would figure it in nowise changed
‘the fate of the victim. On the other hand,
if they got the feeling that the victim
was safe, no matter how they responded
in a financial way, he could foresee ‘end-
less dickering. This also was a situation
to be avoided.

The guard who stood in the dark hall-
way and who had heard the discussion
now slouched back into the room in |
which Farber was held captive. As in- |
different as. his leader to the pain in-
flicted upon others, it hadn’t mattered to |
him one way or the other whether Far-

ber was murdered or permitted to live.

Pasty-Face sent for the Rat... “Go out
and contact his brother again,” he
directed.

“How much should I hold out for?”

“Tf they have two grand, take it.” He
turned to the phlegmatic guard. “You
go along with him, Jerry.”

Before the pair left, however, Pasty-
Face asked the victim for a list of ten
friends whose names could be submitted
to his brother. The latter was to select
two of these to serve as intermediaries
in the payment of the ransom. Farber
furnished the names and the Rat jotted
them down on a slip of paper.

* ok x ;

Irving Farber, who had been sitting
in front of his telephone in the coal com-

LAMING TOMB

1: and the

MYSTERIES resecary, 1940


Courtesy American Map Company

pany office since the news from the
kidnapers had reached him, now lifted
the receiver at the first ring. The Rat,
disguising his otherwise gruff voice by
employing a cracked falsetto, _ asked

whether he had secured the ransom pay-:

ment. .

“I’ve got the $2,000,” Farber replied
nervously.

“I’m giving you a list of ten names,”
the kidnaper said. “I want you to pick
two of them. Those are the men who
are going t6 act for you in turning the
money over.”

“But my brother?”

“Your brother is all right. The minute
we get the dough and we find that the
bills aren’t marked we'll turn him
loose.”

Farber selected the names of Irving
Haber and Frank Friedlander.

“Here’s what you're to do,” the Rat
instructed. “Get Haber and Fried-
lander down to your office at once and
turn over the money to them. When
they have it, tell them to drive slowly
to a cigar store at 240 Broadway,
Brooklyn, where they are to wait for a
telephone call from me. I'll ask for Mr.
Smith. Make sure they’re not followed.”
The kidnaper hung up.

Fortunately Farber was able to locate
both men without difficulty. After he
had secured the $2,000 and the men
were seated in his office, he explained

the situation more fully, swearing them
to secrecy.

The towering elevated structure and
the rumbling trains lend a gloomy cast
to Broadway in Brooklyn. Friedlander
. and Haber drove down the shadowy

street, pulled to a halt in front of the

cigar store. Both men entered and
Haber purchased a pack of cigarettes,
but as the pajr still lingered, the clerk
asked, “Is there anything else, gentle-
men?” :

“No. We're waiting for a phone call,”
Haber replied.

THE minutes ticked slowly by and

when the phone failed to ring, Haber
asked if a call had come in for Mr.
Smith before he had arrived. The clerk
answered in the negative.

About twenty minutes later the man.

answered a ring in one of the booths
and then returned to say that Mr. Smith
was wanted.

Haber entered the booth, closed the
door carefully behind him.

“Ts this Mr, Smith?”

“That’s right.”

“Which one are you?”

“This is Irving Haber.”

“Have you got the money with you?”

“Ves,”

“All right, then this is what you’re to

_do.” The kidnaper’s falsetto voice

cracked and the last sentence was spoken

in his natural deep voice. Abruptly he
caught himself and continued once more
in falsetto. “When: you go out of the
booth, get brown wrapping paper and
cord from the man in charge of the
store and make a neat, secure package
of the money. Don’t forget to put the
ransom note in with the money. When
you get that done, walk out in front of
the store and stand there facing di-
rectly ahead for five minutes. Then you
and Frank walk across the plaza to the
‘Parkside Grill at 237 South Fourth
Street. Sit inside there and wait for an-
other telephone call for Mr. Smith.”

The intermediaries complied with the
kidnaper’s instructions—wrapping the
ransom money in the manner he had
prescribed—walking out in front of the
cigar store, where they stood for five
minutes—and then proceeded to the
Parkside Grill, a beer tavern at the foot
of the Williamsburg Bridge.

After a fifteen minute wait the phone
rang again and the caller asked for Mr.
Smith. Again Haber answered.

But this time the kidnaper said, “Let
me talk to Frank.”

Friedlander took over the telephone.

The kidnaper thereupon issued further
instructions. The two men were to walk
out in front of the Parkside Grill as
soon as the receiver was hung up and
stand there for five minutes looking
straight ahead, after which they were to
go to the Williamsburg Bridge, walking
as far as the first rest-room on the left
hand side. Here they were to lean over
the railing and keep a sharp watch on
the street below. When they observed
a man wearing a white felt hat stop and

White circles on map at top of
page show where agents marked
locations of churches and Ppool-
halls in lower Manhattan and
Brooklyn in their search for kid-
napers’ hideout. (Above) From
top platform go-between threw
ransom money to a man below

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

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FEBRUARY, 16

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MYSTERIES

move it, the package containing the
runsom was to be thrown.

While walking up the foot path which
runs along the outside railing of the left
side of the bridge, Haber ‘said, “Who-
ever kidnaped Benny Farber not only
knows him, but also knows that we’re
friends of his.” :

“You're right,” “Friedlander said.
“Otherwise they’d have picked on some-
body who was worth a lot more money.”

Another point that puzzled them was
the fact that the kidnaper had asked for
Friedlander in a most familiar manner.
The latter, however, felt certain’ that
despite the obvious attempt at disguise
he would have recognized the voice had
he heard it before.

When the two go-betweens reached
the first rest-room they walked to the
railing and looked over the side. Far
below them was South Fifth Street. The
darkness was broken only by street’ arcs
which cast their cones of dim light on
the pavement, and by the occasional
headlamps of a passing automobile.

Time passed slowly. The men knew
they were entrusted with a delicate mis-
sion upon the result of which hinged the
life of a close friend. Suddenly they
saw a man clothed in a dark coat dart
around the corner, look. up to where ,
they stood and then disappear around
the corner-again. Almost immediately,
another man wearing what appeared to
be a snow white felt hat rounded the
corner where the first person had dis-
appeared and stood directly below and
opposite the place where Haber and
Friedlander were standing. As they
watched the man he removed his hat.

(Top right) In a trash barrel on
this corner, a newspaper-wrapped
package containing $13,000 in
ransom money was left. (Inset)
William Jacknis, acquaintance
of Benjamin Farber, had ex-
cellent reason to know that the
latter was “lucky to be: alive”

rrescary, 1940

Ta
boa

“I guess that’s he,” Haber said, and
Friedlander flipped the package con-
taining the ransom over the rail.

As it hit the street, the figure below
clapped the white hat.back on his head,
scooped up the bundle and raced off
into the darkness. ,

* * *

When the Rat and Jerry turned up
at the hide-out with the package, Pasty-
Face tore open the wrapping. On top
lay the ransom note written by the vic-
tim. The leader lit a match, applied it
to the sheet of paper. As the flame ate
its way along the side toward his fingers,
he let it drop, stamping his foot on the
charred fragment. He counted the
money—it was in five, ten, twenty and
fifty-dollar bills—then carefully ex-
amined it for markings. Finding none,
he studied the serial numbers, but de-
tected nothing suspicious.

He walked over to the chair where
Farber sat. His eyes were taped but he
was otherwise unbound.

“They came through with the dough,”
he announced. “We’re going to turn
you free.”

An involuntary sigh of relief burst
from the victim’s lips.

“You've been through the tough part,
so just do as we say and everything else
is going to be all right.”

Farber was led to a car and driven

to East 65th Street and the East River
Drive, the street which, skirts part of
New York City’s waterfront. Escorted
to a bench, his eyes still taped, he was
warned to remain there for ten minutes.

“If you notify the G-men or the
police, you and your family will be
knocked off,’”’ Pasty-Face said as a part-
ing shot.

As soon as Farber heard the kid-
napers’ car pull away, he ripped the tape
from his eyes and, securing the aid of a
passing motorist, was driven to the
office of his coal company where he met
his brother, Irving, and the other mem-
bers of his family who had gathered
there in the meantime.

With the parting threat still ringing in
his ears, Ben Farber was determined
that no complaint be made to the au-
thorities. The following day he ran into
William Jacknis, a playground instructor
who was one of his close friends. Farber
told him what had happened. :

“You ought to tell the cops,” Jacknis
said.

“No. I won’t take a chance on it.
The only reason I’m telling you is that
I named you as one of my ten go-
betweens.”

“T would have been only too glad to
help out,” Jacknis said with sincerity.

alee in the day, Jacknis ran into
Irving Farber. “Your brother told me
what hap- (Continued on page 118)

29

Pome apng


+t member of the ring
tened young man, he
aot been implicated in
ig. However, he had
ia and Sacoda had told
body into the basement
club. They panicked
id printed news of the
not Fried and inciner-
iis stated.

. admitted his implica-
: Benjamin Farber and
fe had known Farber
it case, the gang was
1inor hoodlum. He was
ite hat to whom Irving
sundle of money.

iad been selected as a
chance remark. Gula,
e of his slot machines,
‘ross was much bigger
ked the operator of the
nine was installed about
i him that Charles Mil-
sins in. He added that
man. Gula decided to
e of the Miller money.
1 with Jacknis’ confes-
down. He conceded that
he truth about the Far-
cidnapings. Questioned
nur Fried, he finally ad-
me had been engineered
eve Sacoda.

ne publicity in the Fried
that the FBI had entered
e reasons for the Fried
:, Gula insisted that Sa-
d fired the shot which

in Sacoda’s apartment,”
killed him there. Then
the club and burned the
ice.”
xromptly brought down
At first, he called Gula a
to say anything himself.
nin Farber and Norman
zht to the FBI offices they
id Sacoda as the two men
d them. Miller also tes-
almost certain he recog-
of Jacknis and Virga.

d that, without a corpus
have trouble in getting a
n against Gula and Sa-
ed with Assistant District
‘, Rosenblum. Rosenblum
e New York state statute
f a kidnaper was brought
's victim had been found,
ight ask for a death sen-

jsenblum now confronted
ysecutor said, “You’re not
you think we can’t prove
: don’t have to.” He told
2 which would permit him
penalty. :
ag the death penalty,” said
‘or Gula. He’s lying. He
‘he basement of the club.
nd it wasn’t done in my
rn”
rd Mullins of New York’s
was now called in. Sacoda
at great length. Finally,
participation in all three
his presence at the murder
j. Throughout the entire
‘e insisted that Gula had
the trigger.
ns assigned two of his best
stigate the murder. These
»s George Dunphy and
carefully examined every
e room. With the aid of
ts they discovered nine
lood on the floor. These
ined by New York's Chiet
Alexander O. Gettler. Dr.
the stains to have been

made by human blood. That made our case.

The FBI surrendered the prisoners to
the state of New York. In January, 1939,
Gula and Sacoda were brought to trial.
Jacknis turned state’s evidence against
them. Virga was scheduled to be tried
separately.

Gula and Sacoda were found guilty, with
no recommendation of mercy. They were
sentenced to die in the electric chair. Vir-
ga was brought to trig] next. He was con-
victed of complicity in the Farber and
Miller kidnapings. He was sentenced to
50 years on each count, to be served con-

secutively. Jacknis, after turning state’s
evidence, received a suspended 25-year
sentence.

The following spring the man who ac-
cepted the Farber ransom was found in
Italy, a country of which he was a citizen.
The Italian authorities, using evidence
forwarded from New York, tried him and

sentenced him to 30 years in an Italian
prison.

On January 11th, 1940, Demetrius Gula
entered the death chamber. He was pro-
nounced dead at 11:15. Sacoda followed
him and was dead ten minutes later.

In 1957, Virga, with time off for good be-
havior, was eligible for parole. He was
permitted to leave the prison. However,
he didn’t remain a free man for long. The
immigration authorities seized him, an-
nounced that he was not an American citi-
zen and ordered him deported to his native
Italy.

The ring, drawn by FBI Agent Reed
Vetterli about the presumed location of
the kidnap gang, proved a net from which
none could escape. One by one they stood
before the bar of justice and P ee for the
murder of Arthur Fried and" the kidnap-
ings of Benjamin Farber and Norman

Miller. o¢4%

Terror Trio

(Continued from page 47)

“And get some milk for the kids to drink.”

At 8:45 p.m. the headlights of a car
turned into the driveway. Rhodes blinked
nervously. Miller said sharply, ‘Who's
that?” |

“It’s probably my daddy come to take
me home,” said the Fenstemakers’ niece,
Peggy.

“That’s right,” said Homer Fenstemak-
er. “It’s my son, Russell, coming to get
his daughter.” |

Kline nodded to Connie Fenstemaker.
“Open the door,” he ordered. “Pretend'
nothing’s wrong. Tell your -brother to
come in.”

Russell Fenstemaker came into the
kitchen. He glanced at the armed men in
utter amazement.

“The cops are after us,” explained Mil-
Jer. ‘“We’re here to hide and to use you
folks as hostages, if we need any.”

Russell Fenstemaker protested that he
had to get home. His wife would worry
about him and Peggy. “What’s she going
to think if I don’t come home all night?”

“Who cares what she thinks?” said
Rhodes, his ear glued to the radio. He-lis-
tened eagerly to every bulletin which con-
cerned itself with the condition of Harris
Lillie.

“I care what she thinks,” said Miller. “If
this guy doesn’t show, his wife’ll probably
call the cops and they’ll come here first.
We got to think of something.”

Kline thought of it first. “He can call
her,” he said. ‘He can tell her that his old
man is sick, that he’s going to stay here
overnight with his family and his kid.”

Miller concurred with this idea. A gun
in the back convinced Russell Fenstemaker
that it was a sound idea. Escorted by Mil-
ler, Russell went to the hall telephone and
put through a call to his wife. She ac-
cepted her husband’s story with no sus-
picion. Russell returned to the kitchen
and glumly joined the others drinking
coffee.

A few minutes later another car drove
up to the house. Mrs. Fenstemaker said
nervously, “That must be the man with
the green beans. He’s bringing me some
for canning.”

Again Connie was selected to open the
door and take the beans. The farmer
handed them over with a word of greeting,
then left, totally unaware of the bandits’
presence.

At 11 p.m. the radio announced that Har-
ris Lillie’s condition was satisfactory. The
bullet had severely damaged his intestines

but the doctors believed that the officer
would live. Homer Fenstemaker observed
that the bandits seemed relieved at hearing
this news. : ;

Miller inquired if there was a radio up-
stairs. Homer Fenstemaker conceded that
there was.

“Okay,” said Miller, “we’re all going up-
stairs. We'll all spend the night there.”

“Why?” asked Rhodes. “I like it here.
We'll stay in the kitchen and keep the
coffee pot on the stove. Let the other
folks go to bed.”

“Are you crazy?” There was anger in
Miller’s voice. “This is farm country. If
people see a downstairs light burning all
night they’ll get suspicious. It’s bedtime
in this hick country. So we’re all going
upstairs to bed.”

The three gunmen herded the Fenste-
maker family up the stairs. All six of them
were put in a single bedroom with instruc-
tions to keep the window and the shade
down. It was a hot night and the room
would be stifling with the windows closed,
they protested. But Miller was adamant.

The unholy trio turned on the upstairs
radio and prowled through the darkened
house. From time to time they saw the
patrol cars of the Stark County sheriff’s
office, the state highway patrol and the
Canton and Louisville police, moving back
and forth in their vain search..

The Fenstemakers had been ordered by
Kline to lie down and go to sleep. The
heat of the room and their nervousness
rendered obedience impossible.

Later young Connie Fenstemaker re-
ported, “The men sat glued to the radio,
listening to every report on the wounded
policeman. They’d joke every once in a
while. The one they called Rhodes seemed
fidgety most of the time.”

At 3:30 a.m. on Friday, Miller politely
asked Connie to go downstairs and bring
up some coffee.

“Don’t try to run out the back door,”
warned Kline. “I can see you well enough
to shoot you from the rear window,”

Connie went downstairs. A few min-
utes later she returned with a pot of hot
coffee. The hoodlums drank it gratefully.

When daylight swept over the farm, Mil-
ler ordered Mrs. Fenstemaker downstairs
to make breakfast. She did so and the
family ate heartily. The bandits confined
themselves to black coffee. At this point,
it appeared, they were far more unnerved
than their hostages.

Russell Fenstemaker emptied his cup
and said, “Hey, what about my cows?”

Kline glanced at him. “Well, what about
them?”

“T’ve got to go home to milk them.”

“Milk them tomorrow,” said Miller, a
city hoodlum.

Russell explained certain biological, lac-

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85


THE F. B. 1. FOUND IT TOOK ALL OF
THE RESOURCEFULNESS AND IN-
GENUITY OF THEIR ACE DETECTIVES
TO KNOCK OFF THIS MURDEROUS MOB
OF EAST-SIDE SNATCH SPECIALISTS

miles an-hour.: After you come on to 79th Street, turn
left at Amsterdam Avenue and go to 69th Street. where
you will see Kelly’s Bar & Grill. “Come alone. Go in
there and wait for a call. “Yout name is Robert.”

“All right,” Hugo said.

The receiver atthe other end ‘clicked on the hook,

Hugo Fried turned to the. detectives who’ were
crowded in the small office with him.” His face was
pale, his mouth. set in grim lines.

“It was one of the rats who did it,” he said. “I have to
make contact with them. I want you fellows to stay out
of the picture until I get my brother back—alive.”

He jammeéd'a felt: hat:on. his head,

“Where are you going?” one of the detectives asked.

“To keep the appointment,” he ‘said in a hard voice,

os - The streets were deserted: as he followed the route
‘i with that oly we're on mapped out by the kidnappers. “He couldn’t understand
ng our heads in a noose." why they ever picked on Arthur as a victim.” Certainly
(Specially. posed) there were hundreds of others who lived in the vicinity,
most of whom were spectacularly wealthy. Arthur was

a $200 a week. executive in a sand and gravel company.

.. M. now and the last
iad dragged by. on
1:45 the phone rang.
‘ep breath in order to ns
ibling nerves, scooped Dall
his ear. ; 4
d?” a gruff voice

responded eagerly.
ne. Go up to York
‘n right to 79th

alking—” Hugo tried.

| tell you if you want © i ’ sy
P . : a ae JOHN VIRGA: Statisti-
‘t,” the voice cut him =f ‘eae Cage cians. figured out that
“Don’t go over 20°. with time off for good
if : behavior, he would be
exactly 140 years old
when and if released.

*
ar


S® Lem

*

UGO FRIED dragged nervous-
ly on the cigarette, spat out
the smoke. He savagely

ground the glowing end in the ash

tray and almost immediately lit an-
other cigarette.

Tension in the small office of the
Fried Garage in the upper Bronx
mounted by the minute. Hugo
couldn’t stand the strain. He
dropped his head between the
palms of his powerful hands.

The whole thing was incredible

—yet it happened to him. His

12

brother,

. Arthur, had been

snatched—kidnapped under

his very nose! Hugo knew the ways

of crime, knew the underworld

from the inside, yet had been
powerless to prevent it.

Arthur was a young, respected
business man of 34, married and the
father of an eight-year-old boy. He
was snatched earlier -that night, just

‘a few minutes after he pulled away

from his mother’s 20-room mansion
on Soundview Avenue in White
Plains, New York. An hour later
his grey Packard coupe, bearing
license plate number’ BM 26, was
found a half mile away.

A telephone call ordered Hugo to

be at his garage at 1:30 a. ms. on this

AMAZING DETECTIVE, November, 1941.

‘ . ¢ COR CUNT , i oy on WN I 2 27% : 1904
GULA, Demetrius & SACODA, Joseph S., whs, elec. NY (NY) January 11, 1940.

a

~— os

=z
“Jerry's right. Every minute .

we stay with that guy we're
putting our heads in a noose.”
(Specially. posed)

morning of
December 5, 1937, to
await further contact.
It was 1;40 a. Mm. now and the last
ten minutes had dragged by on
leaden feet. At 1:45 the phone rang.
Hugo took a deep breath in order to
control his trembling nerves, scooped
the receiver to his ear.
“Hello, Fried?” a gruff voice
asked. Sapa Sey
“Yes,” Hugo responded eagerly.
“Listen to me. Go up to York

Avenue, turn right to 79th

Street...”

“Who am I talking—” Hugo tried
to break in. ie
“You do as I tell you if you want >

to make contact,” the voice cut.him

Short angrily. “Don’t go over 20

TH
TH
GE
TO
OF

miles an
left at A
you will

there and

“All rig
The re¢
Hugo
crowded
pale, his
“It was
make con
of the pi
He jami
‘Where
“To kee
The st
mapped o
why they
there wer
most of w
a $200 a


Certainly there was nothing in this
that would bring him to the atten-
tion of a snatch mob.

What Hugo did not realize at the
moment was that his brother Arthur
was not the intended victim, but
that he, Hugo, was the man they
were after. The mistake made by
the kidnappers was easy enough to
understand for Hugo also drove a
grey Packard coupe ‘and _ his

PE A LE LING I RI a ONE FS aN
Ee OPE 1 Fe BECO NPE D>.

| DEMETRIUS "Steely-Eye" GULA:
jms "If there ain't no body, then they
‘POL IC can't pin a murder rap on you."

license plate number was BM 25.

It was almost 3 a. mM. when Hugo
pulled up in front of the bar. An
elevated structure looming over-
head gave an eerie cast to the street.
There were three men standing at
the lower end of the bar talking in
low tones when Hugo entered. They
looked up briefly then resumed their
conversation. A white-aproned bar-
tender moved up to him.

“Tll have a glass of beer,” Hugo
said.

As the bartender set it up, Hugo

.

-fe, >

—_— oe Sy 7

asked whether a telephone call had:
come in for Robert. Before the lat-
ter had a chance to reply the phone
in one of the public booths began
to ring.

“Maybe that’s your call now,”
the bartender said.

Hugo hurried into the booth,
closed the door behind him. “Hello,”
he said.

JOSEPH “GRUFF-VOICE" SACODA: "I
was there and saw him take his gun out
y and put a bullet in the guy's brain.”

wS

Pine

“Robert?”

“Ves.”

“You listen to me,” said the gruff:
voice that had spoken to him earlier.
“The kid is all right. When you
come out of the booth, go to the
right, then turn to the right again.
Go into the men’s room’ There is


- er Longe oth

ee pee i ee sgt’ Site 3
pee “The two youths were forced
into the back seat at the point
of - the menacing revolvers.
(Specially posed)

a permanent record of the conver-

“Keep quiet,” the voice sneered.
“We want dough and we want it sations.

fas ef

“we haven't got that kind of jT was on the afternoon of the

dough,” Hugo protested. fourth day that, after smany
succeeded in

“The kid thinks different. You arguments, Hugo
reducing the ransom amount to

East 19th Street. The high stoop

had been cut away and the en-
s three steps down from

fellas get together now, all of you,
and get as much dough as you can. $5,000. He had just finished this trance wa
Follow out the orders in that let- final conversation and had re- the street level.
Inside he gave two sharp raps on = “Never mi
your hands

pile placed the receiver when down on
Manhattan’s lower East Side a an apartment door. It opened a
he gruff-voiced man ° o. a. the

dark, slim, sullen-mouthed man cautiously. -
booth, slipped in quickly and shut the (Special

door behind him.
“Did anyone follow you here?”

ter. Get it together now. and

Once the fact that a kidnaping
ablished, slid out of the telephone

ar Hoover of the pulled the snap prim on his grey
felt hat low over his eyes and

Director J. Edg

Federal Bureau of Investigation
immediately sent a squad into ac- strode out of a cigar store. He “No.”
tion. G-men set about installing turned the first corner quickly, “How did you make out?”
recorder units on the telephones then hurried west and turned the “Okay. They'll settle for five d
in the homes of all the Frieds, and second corner. Planting himself grand.” al that,”
in the succeeding three days that against the wall, he peered back to He walked to the door, opened it What g
Hugo served as intermediary and make sure no one was following. and looked in. Arthur Fried was : Steely-e,
dickered with the -yoiced Then he walked swiftly to the re pound to a kitchen chair. His eyes o alked int;
kidnapper, aluminum disks made modelled brownstone house at and mouth were taped. € Said.
a ee “Is he giving any trouble?” he = But that
“ae. on bi de asked the swarthy-faced man who ened.
ayy rt ree ry | ay oly was keeping guard. ee the
Pe a ooh . 4 ‘ “No, he’s all right, but I’m get- § s Ow’s t}
RN Bs nervous sitting here with him . th teely-ey;
f. all the time. Why don’t you get en they ¢:
the dough so we can scram?” In fifteen
“We'll have it tomorrow.” Bruff-voiced
The gruff-voiced, sullen-mouth- Tied Was by
ed man walked out. The man who H I’ve got g
had let him into the flat—a oa turned to
hollow-cheeked man of about 3 Favs eyes a
with grey eyes cold as steel filings es Tied rose
_-said, “Jerry’s right. Every min- can—” he |
ute we stay with that guy we're PEON cal righ
putting our heads in a noose.” F er is con
“J don’t like it any better than ra or four day
you do, but I’m not going to kick min Possib]
+ that dough into an ash can now.” Mow on whe:
“Don’t worry, We don’t have to. .. eeraise wo
etely

/

‘GRUFF-VOICE™ SACODA: "I |
and saw him take his gun out
a bullet in the guy's brain.” ¢

1 to me,” said the gruff:
1 spoken to him earlier.
all right. When you
the booth, go to the
urn to the right again.
men’s room: There is

a towel rack. On top of this towel
rack is a letter. Take the letter,
walk back to the bar, open it and read
it. Then walk outside and burn it.

‘Keep holding it in the air so we can

see it burning, then go back to your
garage and wait. Have you got it?”

Following instructions, Hugo went
into the washroom, reached up to
the shelf and.pulled down the letter.
At the bar he slit it open and
smoothed out the two sheets of
rough.paper. The letter was written
in soft lead. He recognized his
brother’s handwriting.

“Dear Sisters and Brothers: I am
being held for a ransom of $200,000
which is to be in no larger denom-
inations than $100 bills. I am feel-
ing fine and am being taken care of
very well only hoping to get home
real soon.

“Hoping you will do your utmost
to help me out of this embarrassing
position, as you know I will do the
same for each and every one of
you.

“Thanking you all from the bot-
tom of my heart with love to you all
and dearest mother and last but not
least love and kisses to my dear
wife and boy.. Sincerely yours,
Arthur Fried.

“Pp, S. I was told to write the fol-
lowing: My life depends on what
you do in regards to the letter. For
myself, let me say this—please do
as they instruct you to do because
from what little I’ve seen they are
confident that they will accomplish
what they say. Don’t try to pull any
fast ones. P. P. S. Depending on your
answer to them, when they call you

as arranged, they will prob-
ably have me with them.”
Hugo sensed the impor-
tance of the letter. If the
kidnappers wanted it burned
then maybe it contained
some clue that would be
valuable in tracing them. As
he walked toward the out-
side, he managed by a trick
of sleight of hand to
pocket the _ letter
while holding the
envelope in plain
view. He applied a
match to the enve-
lope and, so far as
any outsider could
judge, the ransom
note was going up in

smoke.
Back at the garage
he received another
phone call from the gruff-voiced

kidnapper.

“Hello, Fried,” the voice said.-

“Yes. Listen to me,” Hugo said
tensely. ‘You might know me.”
Hugo had served two prison terms
for previous youthful indiscretions.

15


1e two youths were forced

o the back seat at the point

the menacing revolvers.
(Specially posed)

high stoop
nd the en-
down from

Street. The
cut away 2
three steps

evel.
e two sharp raps on

nent door. It open
. The gruff-voiced man
, quickly and shut the

ad him.

iyone follow you here?”

did you make out?”
They'll settle for five

liked to the door, opened it
ed in. Arthur Fried was
) a kitchen chair. His eyes
ith were taped.
2 giving any trouble?” he
hy-faced man who

ight, but I’m get-

he’s all rig ;
i e with him .

time. Why don’t you get
ugh so we can scram?”
‘V1 have it tomorrow.”

gruff-voiced, sullen-mouth-
ut. The man who

y-cheeked man of
grey eyes
d, “Jerry’s
ye. stay
ng our head
don’t like it any b
do, but 1"
dough into a
Jon’t worry, We

s in a noose.

oN ever
 dancil hands on kK

h
open It for wand

(Specially posed}

ad and
“But t ’ ock hi they
ed hat’s murder!” him off,”
voice was fri
fright-

way I do it!”
y-eye explained:

minutes jt

e flat—a |
about 30
cold as steel filings
right. Every min-
with that guy were |

take the tape

mean—” he

etter than

m not going to kick
n ash can now.”’}
don’t have to

BENJAMIN FARBER:

idnap
ped a
unharmed ig ue pal

Consciousness

is emoti :
ions. He He's smiling at his “

for $25.0
000,
Ptors settled Prd $2,000

ou
were Okay, ”

Said, “In
all over,” Couple of hours it’1]
be

“CG th

vee, that’
won’t regret S swell. You fellow
: s

your eyes
an - M, o
a Bow ga 4 OMe ove
its.”

and meeti for b
Fried ang alls, parties
of steps, th

furn
ac
€ room. ’ low-ceilingeq

nace, it.

, S ‘

cra white
Cked ( Continues

good luck."
as released
ransom.


on the floor boards. I must have
grabbed it accidentally when I was
reaching for support.

“T landed kind of half-sitting in the
roadway, and as I looked up, there
was Zulkoski pointing the other rifle
yy down at me. I knew it was his
life or mine. I knew both rifles
were loaded. So I shot him from
where I was sitting, and he dropped
his gun.”

“And then?” Sheriff Low ‘asked
grimly. Jimmy Anderson was begin-
ning to display a bit of emotion.

“Oh, I got back in, shoved him over
on the seat, and drove on a little
ways. It was getting very dark. I
talked to him, but he didn’t answer.
I began to get frightened when I of-
fered him a drink and he didn’t seem
to hear me. I reached out toward him
and the door on his side opened and
Jerry fell right out of the truck. I
stopped and walked back. It was
very dark. I hollered his name but
he didn’t answer. He was there in
the road, kind of all folded up, and it
was raining. I wondered if he was
dead. I lit matches to try to see his
eyes... .”

“And you turned his pockets inside
out, ripped the band from inside his
hat to make further certain he
wouldn’t be identified, and then rolled
his body into the ditch,” Low snapped
angrily. “Did you stick a match right
into his eye, too?”

“I wouldn’t remember about that.
After all, I had been drinking and
was very frightened.”

The “A.B.C.” angle shortly was
cleared up satisfactorily. Anne Bette
Chalmers “indeed had rushed north-

and crumbling, gave off an intense
heat. The moment they arrived
Gruff-voice became business-like. A
nod of his head sent the guard to the
outside. He drew out a roll of ad-
hesive tape from his pocket.

“Get your hat and coat off,” he
ordered Fried.

The victim obeyed.

Gruff-voice plastered the tape
about his eyes, then tightened it
around his mouth. “Okay, turn
around.” His hands spun Fried
around. '

Steely-eye drew a revolver from
his pocket, walked up softly behind
the victim, aimed carefully and
squeezed the frigger. Fried pitched
forward on his face. He was dead
before his skull cracked on the con-
crete floor. .

The guard in back into the
furnace room. “It’s okay,” he said.
“Nobody heard it.”

“Okay. Get that furnace door
open,” Gruff-voice said.

The guard yanked it open. They
picked up Fried’s body from the floor,
shoved it in head first.

At the end of four hours Fried’s
ashes sifted through the eee to join
the coal ashes. Then his clothing
was burned.

This was Steely-eye’s notion of the

rfect crime. “If you ain’t got a
ody then it ain’t murder,” he
laughed. :

46

AMAZING DETECTIVE CASES

ward to Portland 300 miles removed
to attend an ili sister, a married
sister. Captain Keegan so advised
Sheriff Low via te ephone. The
“A.B.C.” girl had called his office im-
mediately after seeing an account of
the Zulkoski case in a Portland news-
paper. Jerry, she said, had been but
a friend, and if ever she entertained
serious notions about him they were
dispelled when he told her he was
determined to enter the army.

The lack of car registration was
purely a matter of innocent neglect
and had been adjusted in Portland
police headquarters that very day.

Keegan also had asked her about
the Jimmy Anderson development,
and of that youth, she said, she knew
little. She’d met him only casually
and as casually had forgotten him. It
had never occurred to her that stolid
Jerry Zulkoski could be jealous about
her, about anybody, about anything
in the world. No, she couldn’t be-
lieve that...

And then Sheriff Low had the su-
preme satisfaction of getting rid of
Lafe Tipper, who “borrowed” a dol-
lar on which to get out of town.

Young Anderson’s self-defense plea
failed to hold up materially in court.

Stanley MacDonald, Ballistics ex-
pert of Portland, testifying in response
to carefully propounded queries by
Prosecutor L. Orth Sizemore, said it
was his scientific reckoning that the
bullet—an autopsy had shown there
was but one—which dealt death to
Jerry Zulkoski was fired from a hori-
zontal position, from immediately
alongside and on a line with Jerry’s
left shoulder, indicating young Ander-

son was seated in the truck’s cab with
his father’s ranch hand when the
shooting occurred, rather than
sprawled awkwardly on the roadway
as the defendant was maintaining.

Further, MacDonald testified, there
were evidences of ‘powder burns on
the spot where the bullet entered the
victim’s arm on its way through his
body, these indicating that the muz-
zle of the rifle was held not more
than three inches from the point of
the pellet’s entry. .

“That kid does seem to have com-
mitted a vicious murder,” Sheriff Low
remarked as the jury filed out slowly

eto deliberate. “I wonder if we’ll ever
learn the real motive—whether it was
jealousy after all in spite of his and
our ‘A.B.C.’ girl’s denials, whether
robbery, although Zulkoski quite evi-
dently had no money, or whether it
was just plain cussedness induced by
liquor consumed by a bad actor.”

“I’m afraid this is one we'll just
have to wonder about,” Sergeant
Johnson replied. “Somehow, I just
can’t stop thinking about that hole
burned in Zulkoski’s eyelid ... and
how murder cheated the draft board
out of a needed soldier.”

‘The jurors, unquestionably taking
into consideration Jimmy Anderson’s
youth, returned a verdict of man-
slaughter, and on April 21, 1941, Cir-
cuit Judge David R. Vandenberg sen-
tenced him to ten years in the Oregon
State Penitentiary.

(To avoid embarrassment to inno-
cent persons, the names Lafe Tipper
and Anne Bette Chalmers are ficti-
tious.)

SNATCH LAS AND THEIR

HORROR RACK

Only Jerry was glum. “That's all
right,” he said. “But how about the

‘ dough?”

Even Gruff-voice could answer that
one. “It doesn’t matter whether
Fried is dead or alive—as long as his
family doesn’t know. We'll still hit
them for the dough.”

Again the dickering over the ran-
som figure was begun and on Janu-
ary 7, 1938—more than a month after
the grab—the pay-off was arranged.

Hugo was directed to go forthwith
to the Loew’s Commodore Theatre
on Second Avenue and Sixth Street
at 8 p.m. He was to go alone. When
he arrived he was to light a cigar,
walk up and down under the mar-

‘quee for three minutes, then buy his

ticket and enter. He was to walk up
into the balcony and on the first mez-
zanine go to a window fronting on
Sixth Street which would be open,
and here he was to toss the money
package into the street.

Hugo followed the directions. In
front of the Loew’s Commodore
Theatre he took a cigar out of his
pocket, lit it and strolled up and
down under the marquee for the re-
quired three minutes. Trying not to
appear too curious he looked from
side to: side as he walked, hoping
against hope to recognize someone
whose face he might place as a pos-
sible kidnaper of his brother. Then
he purchased a ticket and entered.

(Continued from page 17)

He walked up to the mezzanine’
floor, but here doubts assailed him.
He saw the open window; he went to
it, but didn’t throw the package out.
Looking through the window onto
Sixth Street, he could see nothing
suspicious. There were people of
every size and description walking
by. He retraced his steps and walked
back to the lobby.

Fifteen minutes later an usher
walked up to him. “Are you Mr.
Fried?”

Ves.”

“There’s a telephone call for you.”
He pointed to the phone booth.

Hugo hurried to it, placed the re-
ceiver to his ear. “Hello,”

“Is this Hugo Fried?” It was Gruff-
voice.

“That’s right.”

“Better toss that dough out of the
window like you’re supposed to if
you want your brother to stay
healthy.”

“What proof have I got that I’m
dealing with the right people?”

“You recognize my voice, don’t
you?”

“How do I know that my brother
is still all right? You haven’t given
me any proof in the last three weeks
that he’s still alive.”

“You just have ‘to take my word
for it,” Gruff-voice snarled. “And
* = don’t like that you know what
’ 0.”

He slamme:
Hugo Fried,
half hour, re‘

In all, 34
were receive
Most of them
who tried to
to the ranson
one on Janu
day hencefort

HORTLY
February
to the yard o
pany in Broo}
out of the re
faced the car
into the office
door while }
out a gun.
“Stay right
latter ordere:
manager.
Mishkin, se
raised his arn
“Never mii
up,” the gunr
on that safe ;
Mishkin kn
to resist. He
placed it in a
to the man w
on his heart.
the money |!
manager into
“Stay there
you let a pe
then I'll come
of holes.”
The thug wv
door gave a
turned about
hurled thems
car and sped
Although \
police immed
radio cars w
scene of the c
how managec
best the onl
offer the polic
one of the me)
Mishkin did
When the ban
out his safe h
There was an:
taining $2,000
The newspar
victim on his
Twelve day:
bandits drove
Kingston Fu:

A scene on Sixti


await another phone call from the
kidnapers. ‘When the_ gruff-voiced
man called, Irving explained that it
would be impossible to raise that
amount, :

The negotiations were carried on
over a period of six hours. Finally
the sum of $2,000 was agreed upon.

The final call directed him to a
cigar store at Roebling Street and
Broadway in Brooklyn where he was
to look through the Brooklyn tele-
phone directory. On page 500 he
would find a note instructing him
how he was to hand the ransom
money over to the mob.

The instructions were simple. At
11 o'clock that night he wrapped the
required amount of money in a news-
paper and, starting from Manhattan,
drove slowly over the Williamsburg
Bridge. When he reached the Brook-
lyn side he pulled the car to the
railing and tossed the bundle over
the side. Then he drove directly
home, When he got there the phone
was ringing. Eagerly he lifted the
receiver to his ear.

“Listen,” the gruff voice said,
“we've been playing ball with you,
are you playing ball with us?”

“Yes,” Irving responded.

“Were those bills marked?”

“They were not.” .

This evidently satisfied the kidnap-
ers, for shortly thereafter Ben Farber
was taken out of the hide-away, hus-
tled into the car and driven to East
Sixty-fifth Street and the East River
Drive. There, his eyes still taped, he
was guided into the hallway of a
tenement and cautioned against re-
moving the bandage for five minutes.

The following day William Jacknis,
a WPA layground instructor,
walked into Farber’s office. He was
one of the victim’s close friends.
Farber told him exactly what had
happened.

‘And did you tell the cops?” Jack-
nis asked.

“No. I won’t take a chance on it.

I named Brea as one of my go-be-

tweens,” Farber told him.
“I would have been only too glad
to help out,” Jacknis said sincerely.
Since this kidnaping actually went
unreported no_ investigation was
launched.

A MONTH later—on May 18th—
Norman Miller’s parents were
visiting relatives. Rather than stay
home alone, Norman telephoned his
friend Sidney Lehrer, and together
they went to the Kingsway Theater on
Coney Island Avenue and Quentin
Road in Brooklyn. They left the
movie shortly after midnight and
climbed info their car. Norman
started the motor. At that moment
two men, both. armed, jumped onto
the running board. -

Norman’s mind worked swiftly; his
foot jammed down hard on the ac-
celerator and the car shot forward.
One of the gunmen was jerked off.
The second one, however, maintained
his hold and jammed the gun tightly
against Norman’s ribs.

“Stop this bus or I’ll blow you to
bits,” he gritted.

Miller stopped the car and the
other gunman rushed up. The two
youths were forced into the back seat
with one of the thugs while the sec-
ond one got behind the wheel and
drove off. They rode for a while,
then Lehrer was instructed to re-
turn directly to Miller’s home where
he was to notify Miller’s parents that

48

AMAZING DETECTIVE CASES

they were to raise $100,000 to ran-
som their son.

His eyes taped, his mouth gagged,
the kidnapers drove Miller around in
circles, for what seemed like hours.
As ong were crossing a bridge one
of the kidnapers switched on the au-
to radio and Miller heard a band
playing the swing version of the
nursery rhyme “A Tisket A Tasket.”
About 20 minutes later, he was hus-
tled down a series of worn steps and
tossed into a small room which con-
tained only a cot that had no mat-
tress, Outside he heard the tolling
of church bells. He counted the

strokes. There were thirty-six. In-”

side there was the click of billiard
balls and the sounds made by the
scraping of feet overhead.

The ransom negotiations were car-

ried on the following day and finally -

after the boy’s father had sought a

reduction in the amount, the sum of

$13,000 was agreed upon.

At 9:30 that night the father drove
to the corner of Twenty-third Street
and First Avenue, lifted the lid of
a garbage can and tossed in the pack-
age containing that sum. One hour
later Norman Miller was released on
Avenue D between Eleventh and
Twelfth Streets.

The following morning Norman
Miller and his father were seated in
the office of Dwight Brantley, agent
in charge of the FBI office in New
York, telling him the story of their
wild two days.

In his beg manner Brantley drew
from Miller bits of information the
youth wasn’t aware he possessed.

In the end Brantley had these
clues: Miller was snatched on Coney
Island Avenue in Brooklyn and re-
leased on Manhattan’s lower East
Side. In the hide-away he heard a
church bell peal 36 times. He heard
the click of pool balls. During the
ride he heard a nursery rhyme played
in swing. Not very promising on the
face of it—yet it was all the G-men
had to work on.

There was little doubt in G-man
Brantley’s mind that this kidnaping
had been effected by the same mob
that snatched Fried. The similarity
in the technique used by the Miller
kidnapers was too close to that in the
Fried case to be mere coincidence.

AGENTS under Brantley’s com-
mand made a rapid check with
radio stations and learned that the
song “A Tisket A Tasket” was played
over Station WABC of the Columbia
Broadcasting Company at 12:46 a. m.

Ten minutes after the radio in the
kidnaper’s car had been snapped off,
the car pulled up in front of the
hide-away. This served to fix the
time they reached the hide-away at
12:56 a. mM. Miller had been snatched
at 12:10 a. M.

That-meant that the kidnap mob
took 46 minutes—driving at a mod-
erate rate of speed, according to Mil-
ler—in order to reach their hide-out.

Agent-in-charge Brantley secured
a large map of the city of New York.
Then he dispatched special agents to
ride from the kidnap point in all
directions for 46 minutes, stop their
cars and note the point at which they
ended.

When this was reported back to
G-men headquarters a circle was
drawn, using the reported points as
the circumference. This cut down
the total area of the city in which the
hide-away could possibly have been

located to the territory within the

circle.

But this circle took in the entire
borough of Brooklyn, part of the
Borough of Queens and half of the
Borough of Manhattan—a territory
so large that it is almost impossible
to cover it effectively. :

When -Miller was released, he was
left sitting on an ash barrel on
Avenue D between llth and 12th
Streets. He estimated that it took
a maximum of 20 minutes to reach
this point from the hide-out.

Agents, starting at this point on
Avenue D, drove in each direction for
20 minutes. Using the point of re-
lease as the center and the points
reached by the G-men in their 20
minute drive as a radius, a second
circle was drawn.

Only that small area in which the
two circles overlapped could possibly
have contained the hide-out!

The area was now reduced to the -

northern: tip of Brooklyn and the
lower tip of Manhattan—a section so
small that the G-men would be able
to investigate every building and
shack!

Now the G-men secured the loca-
tion of all churches within that dis-
trict and these were noted on the
map with red pins. Pool parlors were
listed by means of blue pins.

In the entire area within the bi-
sected lines there were only six
streets in which a church using bells
—not chimes—was in proximity of a
pool parlor. ;

G-men posing as magazine sub-
scription salesmen, electricians and
handy men went through these
streets with a fine tooth comb.

One of these streets was 6th Street
between Second and Third Avenues.

It was late in October of 1938, al-
most a year after the Fried kidnap-
ping that a G-man, accompanied by

orman Miller, entered the dimly
lit foyer of the Ukrainian Hall on this
street. ,

They walked down the worn steps
to the basement. Miller thought there
was something familiar about their
feel. Downstairs they heard the click
of pool balls on the four tables which
were in operation. Upstairs porters
were sweeping the dance hall in
préparation for the evening’s festiv-
ities. They walked past the check-
room into the basement, through a
false closet door and into a room so
narrow that a person stretching out
his arms could touch both walls.
Along one side was a dilapidated cot
with no mattress on it.

Young Miller sat on it. “This is
the place,” he whispered hoarsely.

For the remainder of the week the
Ukrainian Hall was kept under close
surveillance. A tail was put on the
frequenters of the place. The man
they sought had to have a close con-
nection with the dance hall in order
to be able to appropriate the base-
ment to his own use with compara-
tive immunity. One such man who
had free run of the Hall was Deme-
trius Gula, son of the man who leased
the Hall.

Two points served to put the finger
of suspicion on this cold-eyed, big-
nosed man: One was his criminal
record, the other was that his con-
stant companion was William Jack-
nis, the handsome, nattily dressed
WPA instructor and sometime race-
track tout who was also the close
friend of the kidnaped Farber.

Brantley
got the mor
his expensi
government
him to be a
where he
large amou

A third m
was a thick
thy-faced n
extraction.
neighborhoc
John Virga,
long crimin

Late on }

Brantley +
and graspec
“Just a
talk with y

Gula’s hi
slit. “Who

‘Departm
replied, flas

Two fed
firmly by t
to the wait
Jacknis anc
arrest.

For four
subjected |
and in the
confessed.

“But Iw
Fried off,”

“Who dic

“Joe Sac

“Where i

“He’s ba
tion of par

“Tell me

“Joe Sac
Sing Sing
Fried was
learned th:
dough. W
plans to p
mistake or
got his br«
to him fo:
started ge!
who put |
head and t
the house
took him d
Ukrainian
furnace.

“Were J:

“No. Tr
Farber anc
ups of the

Both of :

So far

were con
This was
scription «

The nig)
as a man
stockily bi
complexio
brown sui
it would
solve the
officers w
their line
into the f:
comprehe)
and drav
sions whi


1e truck’s cab with
hand when the
d, rather than
ly on the roadway
vas maintaining.
ald testified, there
powder burns on
bullet entered the
way through his
ing that the muz-
1s held not more
from the point of

em to have com-
rder,” Sheriff Low
-y filed out slowly
onder if we’ll ever
e—whether it was
1 spite of his and
denials, whether
ulkoski quite evi-
ey, or whether it
-dness induced by
‘a bad actor.”
is one we'll just
about,” Sergeant
‘Somehow, I just
about that hole
s eyelid ... and
d the draft board
dier.”
estionably_ taking
immy Anderson’s
verdict of man-
pril 21, 1941, Cir-
Vandenberg sen-
‘ars in the Oregon

‘assment to inno-
imes Lafe Tipper
ialmers are ficti-

page 17)

» the mezzanine’
bts assailed him.
ndow; he went to
the package out.
ne window onto
yuld see nothing
were people of
icription walking
steps and walked

later an usher
“Are you Mr.

me call for you.”
one booth.

t, placed the re-
‘ello.”

d?” It was Gruff-

dough out of the
‘ supposed to if
orother to stay

> I got that I’m
tht people?”
my voice, don’t

that my brother
ou haven’t given
_last three weeks

o take my word
snarled. “And
t you know what

He slammed down the receiver and
Hugo Fried, after waiting around a
half hour, returned home.

In all, 34 ransom telephone calls
were received at the Fried home.
Most of them from cranks and thugs
who tried to beat the kidnap mob
to the ransom. The last call was the
one on January 7th, and from that
day henceforth all trail was lost.

HORTLY before closing time on

February 16, 1938, a car drove in-
to the yard of the Vi-Jax Coal Com-
pany in Brooklyn. Two men climbed
out of the rear seat while the driver
faced the car about. The men walked
into the office. One man stood at the
door while his companion whipped
out a gun.

“Stay right where you are,” the
latter ordered George Mishkin, the
manager.

Mishkin, seated at his desk slowly
raised his arms ceilingward.

“Never mind keepin’. your hands:

up,” the gunman rasped. “Get busy
on that safe and open it.”

Mishkin knew that it was useless
to resist. He removed $400 in cash,
placed it in a bag and turned it over
to the man who had the gun trained
on his heart. The gunman grabbed
the money bag, then ordered the
manager into a corner.

“Stay there for five minutes. If
you let a peep out of you before
then I’ll come back and drill you full
of holes.”

The thug who stood guard at the
door gave a low whistle and both
turned about and raced into the yard,
hurled themselves into the get-away
car and sped off.

Although Mishkin telephoned the
police immediately and a cordon of
radio cars was thrown about the
scene of the crime, the robbers some-
how managed to slip through. At
best the only clue Mishkin could
offer the police was the description of
one of the men who held him up.

Mishkin did have this satisfaction:
When the bandits asked him to clean
out his safe he only gave them $400.
There was another compartment con-
taining $2,000 which he did not touch.
The newspapers complimented the
victim on his quick thinking.

Twelve days later this same trio of
bandits drove into the yard of the
Kingston Fuel Company at 76-13

‘g

‘FROM AUTHENTIC POLICE RECORDS

Jamaica Avenue in Woodhaven,
Queens. Their haul was only $94.

George Mishkin, meanwhile, had
been spending many weary hours at
the Bureau of Criminal Identification
at police headquarters but had been
unable to identify any of the Rogues
Gallery
placed before him.

On the night of March 16th, he re-
turned home from work rather late.
As he walked up to the entrance of
his home, a man stepped out of the
oC and jammed a gun into his
ribs.

“Keep your hands down and walk
to that car.” The gun poked Mish-
kin toward a sedan parked at the
curb.

“If it’s my money you want—”
Mishkin began.

But the gunman cut him short. “Get
moving or it’ll be too late.”

Mishkin’s eyes opened wide for he
recognized the voice of the gunman
who had held him up a month earlier!
The driver went directly to the offices
of the Vi-Jax Coal Company. Mishkin
was escorted out and forced to open
the door of the office. Once inside he
was ordered to open the safe.

“This time we'll clean the safe out
ourselves,” the thug with the gruff-

voice said. The bandits took $1,300 in

cash and counted it before leaving.

The short gunman said, “It’s a lucky
thing for you that you’ve got this
money on hand. If you didn’t, we’d
take you along with us and then it
would cost you a lot more.”

PURRED on by their success, the
kidnap-murder mob struck again.
Benjamin Farber, a curly-haired, 33-
year-old coal merchant was seated
in his Brooklyn home at 8 A. M. on
April 18th, when the telephone rang.
“Is this Ben Farber?” a voice
asked.

“Farber speaking,” he replied.

With that the party at the other
end of the line hung up.

Although he thought this strange,
the entire incident was forgotten by
the time he left his home at nine
o'clock. He drove directly to a
branch of the National City Bank lo-
cated on Brighton Beach Avenue
near Brighton 6th Street in the Coney
Island section of Brooklyn. ‘He en-
tered the bank, made a $100 with-
drawal and returned to his car.

. TRANSOM MONEY was

Of UKRANIAN HALL fae
100 FT, from THEATRE

———

TS ee

.

et

on

sey ow

| ar me

- 2

Ff -# 44
itl

—

a ;
i {
~ 2!

a

|

i

te taney

~

ee YISIDE ENTRANCE
ee OF THEATRE

A scene on Sixth Street, New York City, showing the locale in which one of the most inhuman crimes was planned and consummated.

viii

‘
ft

| to be THROWN from |
WINDOW /n THEATRE |

ARTHUR FRIED was | id
CREMATED jin FURNACE!

ictures which had been |

Just as he stepped on the starter,
a man called out: “Hey, Benny!”

Farber turned around and watched
in amazement as a tall, slim, long-
nosed man opened the car door and
slid in beside him. Before Farber
could ask the meaning of this the
intruder had slipped a revolver out
of his coat pocket, and holding it
low out of view of any passerby, or-
dered, in a gruff voice, “Go ahead—
drive!”
_ The coal merchant slipped the car
into gear and drove to Brightwater
Court and Coney Island Avenue

_ where a second man waited for them.
They pulled up to the corner and

this man climbed into the’back. Far-
ber was also ordered into the rear.
The man who had stuck him up
placed the revolver between his
thighs and slid behind the wheel.

For an hour they drove aimlessly
about the city. Finally Farber, be-
.coming more and more nervous as the
time, passed, said: “If this is a stick-
up I’ve got $100 in my pocket. You
can have it.”

“This is no stickup,” the man be-
side him replied.

“Then what’s it all about?”

“You'll find out soon enough.”

With that all three lapsed into

silence. A pair of dark glasses was
slipped over Farber’s eyes. The
driver increased his speed and about
an hour later they reached a house,
the whereabouts of which was un-
known to the victim.

Inside the gruff-voiced man said,
“This is a kidnap. We're holding you
for ransom. Now give us the names
of ten of your friends. We'll pick two
of them as intermediaries.”

Farber furnished the names. His
brother, Irving, was decided upon.

When the gruff-voiced man. called
the victim’s brother on the phone, he
said, “We’re holding Ben for ransom.
If you ever want to see him again—
alive—you won’t say a word about
this to anyone.”

Irving Farber promised to do as
he was told.

He was instructed to go to a bar
and grill’ in the neighborhood and
on a shelf in the washroom he would
find a note bearing further instruc-
tions. He did as he was directed and
read that the kidnapers demanded
$25,000 before morning.

He returned to his home, there to

HUGO FRIED

Miwuco Faieo]

|ENTEREO THIS jm

GULA WATCHED

. im ENTRANCE for
. |ARRIVAL OF
awe INTERMEDIARY
}

~,

l
THEATRE with
eee RANSOM
y

STARTS THURSDAY

47


itory within the

ok in the entire
yn, part of the
and half of the
ttan—a_ territory
uations impossible

y. A
released, he was
ash barrel on
llth and 12th
ted that it took
ninutes to reach
hide-out.
it this point on
2ach direction for
the point of re-
and the points
men in their 20
radius, a second

rea in which the
2d could possibly
ride-out!

7 reduced to the -

ooklyn and the
tan—a section so
n would be able
y building and

ecured the loca-
within that dis-
‘e noted on the
’00l parlors were
lue pins.

. within the bi-
were only six
iurch using bells
1 proximity of a

magazine sub-
electricians and
through these
oth comb.
Ss was 6th Street
Third Avenues.
ober of 1938, al-
e Fried kidnap-
accompanied by
ered the dimly
nian Hall on this

i the worn steps
er thought there
liar about their
y heard the click
our tables which
Upstairs porters

dance hall in
evening’s festiv-
past the check-
nent, through a
into a room so
a stretching out
ch both walls.
4 nes cot
it.

on it. “This is
‘red hoarsely.
of the week the
<ept under close
was put on the
lace. The man
ave a close con-
ce hall in order
yriate the base-
with compara-
such man who
dall was Deme-
man who leased

o put the finger
cold-eyed, big-
as his criminal
s that his con-
William Jack-
nattily dressed
sometime race-
also the close
d Farber.

Brantley wondered where Jacknis
got the money to indulge himself in
his expensive tastes. Certainly his
government stipend wouldn’t allow
him to be a daily visitor at the track
where he bet, and invariably lost,
large amounts of money.

A third man often in their company
was a thick-lipped, flat-nosed, swar-
thy-faced man of apparently Italian
extraction. Discreet inquiries in the
neighborhood revealed him to be
John Virga, a man of about 32 with a
long criminal record.'

Late on Friday afternoon, October
28th, as Gula was entering the’
Ukrainian Hall, Agent-in-charge
Brantley walked alongside of him
and grasped him by the elbow.

“Just a minute, Gula, I want to
talk with you.”

Gula’s hard eyes narrowed to a
slit. “Who are you?”

“Department of Justice,” Brantley
replied, flashing his shield.

Two federal agents grabbed Gula
firmly by the arms and dragged him
to the waiting car. At the same time
Jacknis and Virga were placed under
arrest.

For four days the three men were
subjected to a barrage of- questions
and in the end Gula broke down and
confessed.

“Bat I wasn’t the one who knocked
Fried off,” he swore.

“Who did?”

“Joe Sacoda.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s back in Sing Sing for viola-
tion of parole.”

“Tell me how it happened.”

“Joe Sacoda was doing a bit up in
Sing Sing at the same time Hugo
Fried was there. That’s when he
learned that the Frieds had plenty of
dough. When he got out we laid
plans to pick up Hugo. We made a
mistake on the license numbers and
got his brother instead. We held on
to him for four days and then we
started getting worried. It was Joe
who put a bullet through Arthur’s
head and then we dragged him out of
the house at 240 East 19th Street,
took him down to the basement in the
Ukrainian Hall and burned him in the
furnace.

“Were Jacknis and Virga in on it?”

“No. They were only in on the
Farber and Miller jobs, and the stick-
ups of the coal companies.”

Both of these men eagerly admitted

So far as physical clues or leads
were concerned, only one existed.
This was the somewhat sketchy de-
scription of the “john.”

The night clerk had described him
as a man of about 45 years of age,
stockily built, of medium height, olive
complexion and dressed in a cheap
brown suit. On the basis of this alone
it would be’ virtually impessible to
solve the case. But Ryan, and the
officers with him, were experts in
their line. They were able to read
into the few details available a fairly
comprehensive picture of the crime,
and draw from it certain conclu-
sions which were to form the basis

FROM AUTHENTIC POLICE RECORDS

their parts, in those crimes, evidently
willing to take the rap on the lesser
kidnapings rather than be implicated
in the Fried job. ~ :

At Sing Sing Joseph Sacoda was
brought to the Warden’s office where
Brantley questioned him.

“Gula tells me that you put the
finger on Arthur Fried,” he said.

“T ain’t got nothin’ to say,” Sacoda
responded in a rasping voice.

Since the investigation disclosed
that no state line had been crossed in
any of the cases, the federal authori-
ties had no jurisdiction in the matter
and the case was turned over to
Assistant District Attorney Jacob
Rosenblum, Chief of the Manhattan
Homicide Bureau, and Captain Ed-
ward Mullins, known as America’s
outstanding homicide investigator.
They instituted a painstaking search
in both the 19th Street address and
the Ukrainian Hall.

In the latter place the bullet which
had snuffed out the life of Fried was
found on the floor. It had passed
completely through Fried’s skull,
flattened against the brick wall and
dropped harmlessly. In a nearby
room was found a Spandau machine
gun in perfect working order.

If the killers thought that they
would escape the full penalty of their
act by destroying the corpus delecti
they were mistaken, for in New York
State the recently er ae Lindbergh
Kidnap Act makes kidnaping a capi-
tal offense if the victim is not re-
turned by the time the defendants go
to trial.

Gula:and Sacoda were indicted in
the kidnaping of Fried, a case which
carried the death penalty, whereas
Virga and Jacknis were indicted for
the Farber and Miller snatches, the

state penalty for which is 20 years

to life imprisonment.

Detective Edward Shields was sent
to Sing Sing to bring Sacoda to New
York. Tough as this. gruff-voiced
killer had.been to the G-men, he now
underwent a complete change of
heart. Shackled to a chair in the
District Attorney’s office, Prosecutor
Rosenblum told him the story Gula
had given.

“I guess you’ve got me dead to
rights,” he said. “Everything Gula
says is right, except that we didn’t
kill Fried up in East 19th Street.”

This was a fact that the police had
already ascertained by finding the

murder bullet n®ar the furnace.

“And when he says that I fired the
shot that killed Fried he’s crazy. I
was there and saw him take his gun
out and put a bullet through the guy’s
brain.” - ;

In the midst of the confession Cap-
tain Mullins said, “Show us how you

honed Hugo Fried. Make believe
’m Fried. There’s the telephone in
front of you. Pick it up and start
talking to me.” He handed the killer
a prepared script, the exact words of
which had been copied from the
G-man dictaphone.

Sacoda did as he was requested and
a-recording disk in another room took
down the words almost accent for ac-
cent as they had been recorded by the
federal authorities.”

bg man who eng the part of
the guard in the Fried case was
Jerry Russo, but the latter had al-
ready fled.

Number 12809 in the teletype alarm
book reads: “Arrest for kidnaping
Jerry Russo, Italian, 30, five foot six
inches tall, 135 pounds, dark hair, ad-
dress unknown, no further descrip-
tion.”

Russo_wasn’t free for long. De-
tective Edward Shields of the Homi-
cide Squad learned that he was using
the alias of Ciro Lignore, learned that
he had sailed as a stowaway on the
S.S. Rex. Detective Shields cabled
the Italian authorities and as Russo,
alias Lignore, stepped down the gang
plank he was arrested. Being an
Italian citizen, he became bound by
Italian law and was tried in a Rome
Court where he was convicted and
sentenced to life imprisonment.

Virga was handed one of the stiffest
sentences in New York criminal his-
tory—110 years to life imprisonment.

ula and Sacoda—Steely-Eye and
Gruff-Voice, respectively—stood be-
fore the bar of Justice and heard
General Sessions Judge John J.
Freschi sentence them to death in the
electric chair. a

In the fall of 1940, the two princi-
pals in the worst kidnap mob the na-
tion has known walked down the last
mile to their doom in Sing Sing’s
death house.

This left only Jacknis. He turned
state’s evidence and for his assistance
to the district attorney was given the
only light sentence—five to ten years
in States Prison.

HARLOT’S LAST PICK-UP

(Continued from page 7)

for the future investigation.

The medical examiner’s report
showed that the woman had been
dead about eight hours, placing the
time of death at around 4 a.m. Her
body showed signs of having led a
promiscuous life and that she had
relations with a man immediately
before death. This coupled with the
manner in which the room was se-
cured, appeared conclusive proof
that she was a harlot—one whose
last date was with death.

If this analysis of the case was cor-
rect then it would be an excellent
lead, for the victim, having -lived
outside the law, would be apt to have

her fingerprints on file. The dead
woman’s fingerprints were taken and
iven to Inspector Joseph Donovan,
amous head of the Bureau of Crim-
inal Identification, and he quickly
pulled out the picture and. record of
the person whose prints matched.

The victim was Marion Delaney.
Her record showed one arrest for
using narcotics.

HE routine in all homicides is
the same.

The commanding officers race to
the scene with a squad of men. All
immediate clues are run down and
an analysis of the crime made. Then

49


18

HUMAN ASHES

iy 9 Giselle

Furnace in Ukranian Hall, where Arthur Fried was _- after murder.

to ‘ion a body!

So now there was no longer any doubt.
Arthur Fried had been kidnapped.

In the living room of the gabled man-
sion of his mother on Sound View Avenue

T WAS 4:30 a.m. on the morning of
Monday, December 4th—and bitterly
cold. The dapper young fellow with
the beady eyes under the soft gray
hat hunched his chin down in the col-

lar of his coat and slipped unobtrusively
into an ‘open, all night’ pool room on
one of the shabby streets in New York’s
lower East Side. He squeezed into a
telephone booth, closed the door care-
fully behind him and in a guarded voice
gave the operator a White Plains num-
ber to call.

There was a click and a buzz as the
connection went through and then, al-
most instantly, the phone was answered.
A woman's voice, brittle with tension,
said eagerly: “Yes?”

“Is this Mrs. Arthur Fried?” asked the
beady-eyed gent, in a cool, crisp voice.
“Yes, yes.”

“Okay. Relax.
band. Now listen-—~-

But Mrs. Fried couldn’t listen. “Is he
all right?” she asked in an anguished
voice.

“So far he is,” replied the beady-eyed
gent in an ominous voice. “And if you
want to keep him that way don’t go to
the cops. If you do it’s going to be just
too bad for Arthur, Sit tight. Don't do
nothing. I'll contact you tomorrow.”

“Please! Let me speak to Arthur,”
pleaded Mrs. Fried. But a sharp click
on the wire told her that the line had
gone dead.

We've got your hus-

in White Plains, there was a_ stunned
silence for a moment after Mrs. Fried had
tearfully told the members of her family
of the warning she had just received. The
Fried clan had gathered hurriedly several
hours before at the home of the old
matriarch, Mrs. Emma Fried, at the first
alarm that Arthur was missing.

Arthur Fried at 34 was the successful
manager of the Bronx branch of the
Colonial Sand & Gravel Company. He
and his family and numerous in-laws had
moncy; he was a choice prize for any
gang of kidnappers.

He had left his
that night in his
the short distance
the Briarcliff Man
Mever reached the
nied for an imp.
began making fr
numerous relatives
Arthur; nor had ¢
any report from
like that.

Wbviously somet
to the voung bi
what? The Fried
to the big Soun
after a brief famil
Plains police wer
was missing. For
nothing—no word,
no clue as to w
Arthur Fried. Th:
toom of the mar
was unbearable.

And now, at 4:
Evervore knew m

to Arthur. He had
they didn’t know
still alive.

An hour later


Hugo knew his lines. “Mr. Hudson,”
he said.

“Okay,” said the voice. “Listen. When
you leave the Rooth make a left turn and
then another left turn and go into the
gent’s room. On the towel rack above
the ‘basin you'll find an envelope. Take
it to the bar, open it and read what’s
inside. Then go out on the sidewalk
and burn the letter. After you do this
go .back to your garage and wait. Til
contact you later. Got it?”

“Yes,” said Hugo, “but--—-—-"

He got no further. A sharp click in his
ear told him that the line had gone dead.

Once ‘more he followed instructions,
found the letter on the towel rack and
returned to the bar. Here, with trembling
hands he ripped open the envelope. Two
sheets of cheap ruled note paper were
inside. -They: were covered with writing
in his brother’s hand. Swiftly he read:

Dear Sisters and Brothers: I am being

‘held for a ransom of $200,000 which is to

be in no larger denominations than $100
bills. I am feeling fine and being taken
care of very well only hoping to get home
real soon,

Hoping you will do your utmost to
help me out of this uncomfortable situa-
tion as you know I would do the same
for each and every one of you.

T thank you all from the bottom of
my heart and with love to all of you and
to my dear wife and boy.

\ Arthur

The second note read:

P.S. I was told to write the follow-
ing. My life depends on what you do.
Please follow out their instructions be-
cause from what little I’ve seen they mean
business. Don’t try to pull any fast ones.

If nothing else Hugo now knew that
Arthur had been alive at the tinfe the
letters were written, And it was an ob-
vious deduction from the -instructions he
had received—that he burn the letters—
that he was being watched. By whom?
The bartender? The three drinkers? He
observed them all narrowly in the mirror
behind the bar. Their actions were
natural and they seemed to be paying
him no attention at all. ClearJy he was
being watched by someone on the outside.

At this moment Hugo decided to take
a chance. If at all possible he wanted to
preserve his brother's letters as the first
and only tangible clue to his kidnapping.
Deftly he slipped the two sheets of note
paper into his pocket, then with the
envelope plainly visible in his: hand he
left the tavern. On the sidewalk he struck
a match, held it to the cnevelope and
watched. it burn to ashes in his fingers.
Then, without a backward glance he got
into his car and drove swiftly back to
his garage. ;

After making a copy of the letters
Hugo turned them over to the White
Plains officers who, in turn, passed them
over to Chief Miller. Now, with this first
positive proof that Arthur had indeed
been snatched, Miller contacted Reed
Vetterli, the agent-in-charge of the New
York Field office of the FBI.

Two hours later in the garage Hugo
received another call from the kidnap
contact man., He protested that neither
he or his family was able to raise $200,-
000 or anything like that amount.

‘

To this the kidnapper snarled: “Arthur
thinks different. Stop stalling. Get that
dough and get it fast—or it’s ° curtains
for your brother.”

“How do | know you haven't already
killed him?” asked Hugo.

“You got to take my word for that.
Two hundred G’s as the letter said. I'll
call you back at three.” Then the line
went dead.

As soon as Vetterli recetved word of
the snatch, J. Edgar Hoover was notified
in Washington, and swiftly and efficiently
the FBI went into action, though as yet
they had no jurisdiction in the case as
there was no evidence that Arthur Fried
had been transported across a state line.

AGENTS first built up a detailed

FBI picture of the victim’s back-
ground but ewere unable to find

any clue in this material that suggested

the identity of the kidnappers. They next’

went to work on the ransom notes and
discovered a watermark on the top of
each sheet consisting of the ietter “B”
set in a scroll. A check disclosed that
this watermark was registered for the
Blair Paper Company of Huntingdon, Pa.,

IN SECRET ROOM—

. Detectives examine huge machine gun
found in cellar under Ukranian Hall.

SINISTER CALLS—

Were made on ‘this telephone—warnings,
threats, and instructions for payoff.

who manufactured paper for cheap dime
store tablets. Two agents were dispatched
to’ Huntingdon to run down the outlets
of the tablets in the New York areca.
‘Meanwhile, other agents working in
White Plains near the scene of the snatch
located Warren Young, a local high school
student. Young had an interesting story
to tell. Driving home from the movies
on the night of the fourth he had wit-
nessed a strange incident. Turning into
Prospect Road he had noticed a Packard
coupe closely followed by a dark sedan.
Suddenly the sedan had shot forward
and cut off the coupe, forcing it to the
curb. Two men had jumped out of the
sedan and run over to the coupe. At
this point Young had passed the two cars.
Suspicious of what was going on he had
proceeded for a block, where he had made
a U turn and returned to the scene. The
two cars were now in motion and they
passed him going in the opposite direction.
Convinced that this was an eye-witness
account of the snatch the agent asked
sharply: “Did you catch the license
numbers?”
“The coupe had a low number, some-
thing beginning with BM, and two num-

.

he me. il as mee fle
Se ok “& o

hers T couldn't ;
“How about
The agent v
swer. The ki
abandoned: it
the mob. If ‘
the case would
But Young w»
All he had beer
number on the
bols 7N.
“What kind «
“It looked lik
“And what t:
Young consid
out of the movi
11:45 when I f
Since the con
that he would
the FBI men p
there and attac
to it. The line
the telephone r
were all set.
Hugo answe
Arthur?” he ask
“Okay. so far
“But time is rur
the doueh?”


was no longer any doubt.
iad been kidnapped.
room of the gabled man-
ier on Sound View Avenue
is, there was a stunned
yment after Mrs. Fried had
1e members of her family
she had just received. The
gathered hurriedly several
at the home of the old
_ Emma Fried, at the first
chur was missing.

\ at 34 was the successful
ae Bronx branch of the
& Gravel Company. He
and numerous in-laws had
s a choice prize for any

ppers.

He had left his mother’s home at 11:40

that night in his Packard coupe to drive,

the short distance to his own home in
the Briarcliff Manor Apartments. He had
never reached there. His wife had. wor-
ned for an impatient hour. Then she
began making frantic calls to all her
numerous relatives. But no one had seen
Arthur; nor had there been any accident,
any report from a hospital or anything
like that.

ubviously something evil had happened
to the young business executive. But
what? The Fried clan came on the run
to the big Sound View mansion and
after a brief family conference the White
Plains police were notified that Arthur
was missing. For the next three hours—
nothing—no word, no sign, no indication,
mo clue as to what had happened to
Arthur Fried. The tension in the living
room of the mansion built up until it
was unbearable.

And now, at 4:30 a.M. it was snapped.
Everyone knew now what had happened
to Arthur. He had been kidnapped. What
they didn't know was whether he was
sall alive.

An bour later a squad car located

7

ae Phy looking . for. remains of, ae Withee
Sy

Fried’s Packard coupe, license number
BM-26: It had been abandoned before
the Rosedale Gardens on Mamaroneck
Avenue., The proprietor and the help of
this establishment were questioned closely
but all stated that they had noted nothing
suspicious the night before, nor had they
seen the person who had parked the
car before the tavern. An inspection of
the car by technicians revealed that it
had been wiped clean of all prints.

Later that morning District Attorney
Walter Ferris and Police Chief William
Miller visited the Fried home and ques-
dioned all members of the familv.

Sy

NER

le Kexe

pertett! ‘aha

‘<:Poticemed dig hn yard of Ukraniee. Hatth

“Is there any reason why Mr. Fried
might wish to absent himself?” asked
Ferris. “Money troubles—another woman
—anything like that?”

“Absolutely not,” replied the missing
man’s wife.

“Was he carrying much money on
him?”

“Only a few dollars.”

“Can you recall any suspicious thing
that happened last night—before or after
he disappeared?”

“Only the telephone call at 4:30.”

Ferris and Miller dug into the family
background but could uncover no reason

19

Si
= wl ee

for Arthur Fried to have disappeared
voluntarily. A check at the Colonial Sand
& Gravel Co. showed that his accounts
were in apple pie order and that he was
highly regarded by the owners. A check
at his bank revealed that he had not
made any substantial withdrawal during
the past six months.

A day of agonizing anxiety for the
Fried family crawled slowly by. Artbur’s
wife and aged mother were on the vetge
of nervous prostration. In the living room
of the big mansion, Hugo, the missing
man’s older brother, and the owner of
a large garage in the north Bronx, fried
vainly to combat the wave of in-
cipient hysteria that was gripping the
household.

T EXACTLY midnight the telephone
rang. The ringing of the bell sounded
like an explosion in the overwrought

room. Hugo snatched up the receiver.
“Hello,” he said.

“Put Hugo on the wire,” a crisp, cool
voice replied.

“This is Hugo.”

“Have you called in the cops?”

“No.” :

“Okay. I'll call you at your garage in
two hours.”

Since the Bronx was part of New York
City. and out of his jurisdiction Chief
Miller notified ‘the authorities there, and
two New York City detectives joined two
of his own men in the garage to await
the expected call from the kidnap con-
tact man. It came through precisely on
schedule. Snatching up the receiver the
same cool voice drilled into Hugo’s ears.
“Is this Hugo?”

“Yes. Let me speak to Arthur.”

“Shut up!” snapped the voice. “I'll do
the talking. You listeén—and get it right
the first time. Drive over to York Avenue,
Turn right at 79th Street. Keep a steady
20-miles-an-hour pace. At Amsterdam
Avenue turn left and drive south to 69th

Street. There on the corner you'll find
Kelly’s Bar & Grill. Go in and wait for
a call. Your name is Hudson. Got it?”

“Yes,” said Hugo. “But why can't I
speak to Arthur?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” replied the voice.
“If you ever want to speak to Arthur
again you'll obey orders. And drive
alone!”

The line went dead and with a heavy
heart Hugo hung up. He was beginning
to wonder whether he would ever see
Arthur again. He was beginning to won-
der whether Arthur wasn’t already dead.
Swiftly he told the officers of the instruc-
tions he had received. Then he added:
“Listen, you fellows. I want my brother
back alive. I want you to lay off till
he’s turned loose.”

The officers appreciated his point and
agreed to play it that way. Hugo started
out at once for Kelly’s Bar & Grill in
Manhattan. He followed his instructions
meticulously, and from frequent glances

aced b

Near gangster hideout was
alert FBI agent who remembered clt
of movie house and “El” in backgrour

in his
he wa:
Thrr
bar w
gave t
look
he ste
a beer
Whe
glass |
keep |
teleph:
Hudw:
The
ing hr
booth
call m
Hug
of the
the t&
“Hello
“Wh
voice
familia


corner you'll find
jo in and wait for
Hudson. Got it?”
“But why can’t I

replied the voice.
>» speak tc Arthur
orders. And = drive

{ and with a heavy
He was beginning
he would ever see
s beginning to won-
vasn’t already dead.
ficers of the instruc-
4. Then he added:
1 want my brother
you to lay off till

‘jated his point: and
: way. Hugo started
ly’s Bar & Grill in
wed his instructions
om frequent glances

rt, Pek
deout was fraced by~
cho remembered clues |
id “El In background. @:

in his rear view mirror he was sure that
he was not being followed.

Three customers were drinking at the
bar when he arrived at the tavern. He

gave them a fast once over. They didn’t,

look like mobsters, thought Hugo, as
he stepped up to the bar and ordered
a beer. :

When the bartender had set a foaming
glass before him he made an effort to
keep his voice casual and said: “Did a
telephone call come through for Mr.
Hudson?”

The barkeep was in the midst of shak-
ing his head when a telephone in a rear
booth rang shrilly. “Maybe that’s your
call now,” he said.

Hugo left his beer, hurried to the rear
of the tavern and squeezed his bulk into
the booth. He picked up the recciver.
“Hello?” f

“Who is this?” said the same crisp
voice that had become so _irritatingly
familiar during the past 24 hours.


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children’s cowboy hats. Each member
of the family had been shot at least
once. This was more horrible than even
the war-time atrocities!

In his jail cell in San Diego, Cali-
fornia,.the badman was sullen when he
heard that the bodies of his victims had
been retrieved. On January 19th, he
suddenly confessed to FBI agents the
story of the murder of the Mossers, the
most heinous ever written in the crime
annals of the United States. “On De-
cember 20th, I held up and robbed a
motorist,” Cook said. “I took his car,
but then I got to thinking the police
would be looking for that car, so I
abandoned. it. Later that afternoon I
stopped another car on the highway. It

was the Mosser family. I pointed a gun
at them and climbed in. We drove on
to Oklahoma: City and circled around
for about an hour, maybe a little longer.
Then we headed west on Highway 66
to Wichita Falls, Texas. ,

“We went into a grocery store and
Mosser jumped me. We broke a win-
dow in the scuffle. Mosser screamed to
the grocer that he was being kidnaped
and his family would be killed. I got
control, and got Mosser back in the car.
We drove southwest.

“f told Mosser to drive to Carlsbad.
Mosser jumped me again at Carlsbad
and tried to escape. I told him then if
it happened again I would kill them all.
In El Paso, I saw a police car and told
Mosser to turn around and drive to
Houston. We drove through Houston
and on to Winthrop, Arkansas. Then
we headed for Joplin. Near Joplin, Mrs.
Mosser got hysterial. The kids got

scared and began screaming. I tied all
of them up, except Mosser. He was
driving. At the outskirts of Joplin, a
police car drove by and looked at us. I
got a little nervous but the cops drove
away. Mrs. Mosser got hysterial again,
and Mosser- tried to stop the car.

“I shot them. I shot them all, and I
drove the car to an old abandoned mine
in Joplin. I left the bodies in the shaft.
I got back in the car and drove to Tulsa,
Oklahoma, but the car got stuck in the
mud. So I left it and started back to
Blythe. I hitchhiked part of the way,
came the rest by bus. In Blythe I ran
into Waldrip. I pulled a gun and took
him with me. Out in the desert I tied
him up in a blanket and left him. I took
his money, his gun, and the sheriff’s
car,

“It was near Ripley in the Laguna
Palo Verde area that I used the red
light on the sheriff’s car to stop another
auto. That was Dewey. I made him
drive toward Yuma. He was pretty
nervous and dropped his cigarette. When
he reached to pick it up, I shot him in
the side. J thought he was reaching for
a gun.'He grabbed me and we struggled
around in the car. He got the door
open and was falling out when I shot
him again. I left him out there in the
desert and headed for Mexico. I cross-
ed the border at Mexicali and drove to

gis roan a

San Felipe. There wasn’t much there,
so I drove about 35 miles where I had
trouble with the car. At daybreak, a
couple of prospectors stopped by and
asked if I needed any help.

“I stuck them up and made them
drive me along the Mexican side of
the border from Mexicali to Tiajuana.
In a place called Alaska, I told the
prospectors to bury the license plates

which I had taken from Dewey’s car..

Then we drove to Tiajuana and down
the coast to Ensenada. Below Ensenada
we turned off toward San Rosalia.”

It was at San Rosalia that Cook met
Chief Mordles; and his downfall.

He was arraigned in San Diego on
federal counts. Both Oklahoma and
California wanted him, but the govern-
ment charges took priority. Cook was
returned to Oklahoma City where the
federal grand jury indicted him under the
Lindbergh Law in the Mosser family
case.

A death penalty was to be sought, but
Cook’s attorney advised him to change
his plea to guilty, and after a sanity
hearing which showed the youth to be
legally sane, U.S. District Judge Stephen
Chandler sentenced Cook to 60 years
on each of the five kidnap counts,

The multiple murderer was taken to

Alcatraz, but the justice department re- —
leased him to California for further

prosecution. ai

Cook was brought to El Centro in
November to face trial for the murder
of Robert Hilton Dewey. There was no
“not guilty” plea and Cook’s sanity re-
mained the only issue. After hearing all
of the testimony of witnesses and psy-
chiatrists, a jury found William Cook
sane and fully responsible for his crime,
Superior Judge Luray J. Mouser fixed
his guilt at first degree murder, with no
extenuating circumstances, The death
sentence was pronounced on November
28th, 1951, The state supreme court
upheld the conviction and Cook paid
for his crimes in the gas chamber at
San Quentin on December 12th, 1952.%

SNATCH-KILLERS

(Continued from page 27)

man, named Harold Reece, came to the
FBI man’s attention. Vetterli was struck
by the similarity of the Reece kidnap-
ing to that of Arthur Fried. - Reece,
the son of wealthy parents, had been
kidnaped and returned unharmed when

the ransom had been paid. The Reeces

had dealt secretly with the kidnapers
without notifying the police.

Vetterli went to Brooklyn and found
that young Reece was quite willing to
talk about his adventure. Reece said
that on the Saturday night of July 23rd
he left a local movie theatre, got into
his car and drove off. He stopped for

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strangers told Reece to drive straight
ahead. Through the mirror, the young
man noticed a gray car following.

“At 22nd Street and Avenue O they
told me to stop,” Reece continued. “I
pulled up to the curb. Someone in the
back seat slapped adhesive tape over
my eyes. I was pulled out of my car
into another and we drove off slowly.
After some time we stopped. They led
me into what seemed like the basement
of a building. I remember I had to walk
down five steps from the. street, then
down a flight of twelve steps.

“They led me across the floor. I could
hear pool balls clicking in the room. I

‘was led across another floor, this one

made of wood. My blindfold slipped a
little and I noticed chairs piled against
the wall, like at a meeting hall or gym.
Then they took me into a small room.
They took off my blindfold and I got a
look at my kidnapers.”

“Can you describe them?” Vetterli
asked, taking out a pencil and pad.

“One of them—he seemed to be the
leader—was about five-feet eight with a
long nose, pale face and small must-
ache,” Reece began. “He was about
thirty years old and was dressed very
sharply, in gray. One of the others was
about five years, younger, heavy-set,
about five-ten with a swarthy com-
plexion.”

‘Reece did not get a good look at the
third of his abductors. Vetterli ques-

tioned the young man for hours and

went over the details again and again.

“About how fast did they drive when
you were taken away from Avenue O?”
the agent asked.

“I would say about twenty-five miles
per hour.”

“Can you think of anything else, no
matter how trivial it might seem, about
that car ride?”

“Well, the radio was playing when we
first started out.”

“Do you remember what station they
had on or what was being played?”

“Someone turned the radio off soon
after we started while the song, ‘A
Tisket, A Tasket’ was being played.”

“How long did you drive after that
before you finally stopped?” Vetterli
asked, trying to establish the exact time
of the kidnaping.

_ “I would estimate about a half hour.”

“What kind of streets did it feel like
you were driving over?”

“Main thoroughfares, by and large,”
Reece replied.

“Now think,” Vetterli said. “Did you
hear any noises or notice anything
else when they took you out of the
car?”

“One of the men remarked that it
was one A.M. as I was hauled out of
the car,” Reece stated. “And I re-
member that I heard the rumble of an
elevated subway nearby.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, the next morning was Sun-
day and I remember listening to a
church bell tolling. I counted thirty-six
chimes.” Also, that day one-of the men

they were instructed to drive for 30

remarked that he was going to walk
down the block and take in a movie.

The FBI agent had been taking notes
exhaustively. “Do you have any idea
what kind of car you were abducted
in?” he asked.

“No,” Reece answered. “But I do
remember that the car smelled new.”

HE next morning Harold Reece was
taken to a dozen different automo-
bile showrooms and seated in the front
seat of the different makes of new cars. a
After sitting in a Packard,-Reece was
certain, from the springing, the incline dl
of the seat, and the feel of the up- 9
holstery, that that had been the make a
of car he was abducted in. It was a
1938 Packard coupe.

-Reece mentioned one more fact
which the federal agent found interest-
ing. He said that on the day he was
kidnaped his father had won $5,000
at a race track. Vetterli was convinced
that this had some connection with the
abduction. He notified the police at each
of the city’s race tracks to alert their
parking lot attendants to be on the look-
out for a 1938 Packard coupe and
report the license plate. If the suspect
car turned up then Vetterli would check
and see if. its owner had had a Buick
or Oldsmobile with a 7N license plate
the previous year.

Then Vetterli got in touch with all the
local radio stations. He asked the net-
work authorities to check and find out
if and at what exact moment, that
song had been played, on the night of
July 23rd. One popular station reported
that the song had been played at exactly _
12:35 a.M. That meant Harold Reece
had been driven from Avenue O at .
about 12:30 and had arrived at the ~~
place of captivity at one a.m. Reece~
had been driven for 30 minutes at about —
25 miles per hour. ‘aes

Agents in cars were sent to 22nd _
Street and Avenue O, from which point —

minutes at 25 miles an hour. They were
then to radio their locations to Vetterli;
The federal agent plotted the locations

as they came in on a huge map of New

York City. Taking a large compass, he.
drew a circle, with 22nd Street and —

Avenue O as the center, and the furthest
point reported as the circumference. ~

“Somewhere in this circle is the place
we are looking for,” the agent said. .
He then sent squads of men out to
look for places within the circle where
there was a coincidence of a pool hall,
an elevated subway, a movie theatre,
a church and a meeting hall or gym.
Thirty-one such locations were found
within the circle. J. Edgar Hoover as- —
signed more men to the case and Vet-
terli sent one man to cover each area.
Nineteen of the locations were
Brooklyn and 12 in lower Manhattan.
Three months later an agent as
signed to one of the areas in lower
Manhattan worked through the night.
~ On Sunday morning he heard a nearby

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‘PRIVATE: INVESTIGATOR: : >»:

When Danny Gula was confronted
with the confessions of the other two,
he made a complete statement. Gula
admitted that he had been involved in
both kidnapings, but swore that the ab-
ductions of both Harold Reece and
Arthur Fried had been masterminded
by Steve Sacoda, who was behind bars.

“Sacoda and I kidnaped Fried,” Gula
stated. “On the fourth of December,
around midnight, we snatched a guy I
had never seen before out of a car in
White Plains. Sacoda knew who he was.
He said that this Fried had plenty of
money. We borrowed my father’s car
and we followed Fried’s Packard. We

forced him off the road and covered
him with guns. We got him into our
car and tied him up. Sacoda drove my
father’s car and I drove Fried’s Packard
up Mamaroneck Road and abandoned
it in front. of a tavern. Then we took
Fried to Sacoda’s apartment.

“We held Fried there for a couple
of days. and tried to get two-hundred
grand out of his brother. It didn’t work
out, so we settled for twenty-five G’s.
Then we saw the paper and found out
that the FBI was in on the case. We got
scared. We knew that we would have to
kill Fried. He knew too much about
us by then.

“The night that the story hit the
streets we killed him. Steve turned the
radio up good and loud. He blindfolded
Fried telling him that we were mov-
ing to a new hideout. Then he let
him have it in the back of the head
with a .38.

“Sacoda had a smart idea. He used
to be a janitor at the Ukranian Hall
and my old man is the manager. I
called up and found out that no one
was around. Steve still had a set of keys
and he knew all about how the furnace
works. I called up my old man and
found out that he had gone away. It
seemed safe. My father wasn’t likely to
come around and surprise us. We took
Fried’s body there and put it in the
furnace. Sacoda got the fire lit and kept
the drafts open. We hung around for
about three hours. It got uncomfortably.
hot there. Finally Steve shook down the
fire and put a lot more coals on. Then
we left.”

Steve Sacoda was brought to the
Federal Building. from Sing Sing. He
was smart enough, however, to realize
that without Arthur Fried’s body the
FBI would have a tough time proving
that a murder had been committed. All
the federal investigators had to go on
was the uncorroborated confession of
a petty hoodlum, Danny Gula.

Sacoda readily admitted his part in
the Reece kidnaping but vehemently
denied knowing anything about the
Fried murder. He had never even heard
of Arthur Fried, he told Vetterli.
“You’ve got nothing on me in that
case,” he insisted. a

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Vetterli
said,

“What do you mean?” Sacoda de-
manded.

“We’ve got you on the Reece kid-
naping, and you'll burn for that. one.
We don’t have to convict you of Arthur
Fried’s murder.” .

Sacoda knew he'was trapped and in
a desperate bid for leniency, offered,

to turn state’s evidence. He confessed
to his part in the kidnaping and murder
of Arthur Fried, although the FBI
made no guarantees of leniency. Sacoda
tried to shift the blame for Fried’s
murder to Danny Gula. He said that
his former pal had done the actual

‘shooting. But as Vetterli had said be-

fore, it didn’t matter.
Demetrius Danny Gula and Steve
Sacoda came to trial for the first-degree
murder of Arthur Fried on January
27th, 1939. The jury found them both
guilty as charged and sentenced them
to death in the electric chair. In a
separate trial Pete Rizzo and James
Russo were found guilty of kidnaping
Harold Reece and each was .sentenced
to serve from 20 years to life in prison.
On January 12th, 1940, Danny Gula
and Steve Sacoda were electrocuted in
New York’s Sing Sing Prison, thus pay-
ing the price for committing the two
most vile crimes against society—kid-
naping and murder. Were it not for the
perseverence and thoroughness of the
Federal Bureau of Investigation the
two heinous crimes might have gone
unsolved. *

Editor's Note: The names Harold
Reece, Pete Rizzo and James Russo are
fictitious,

YOU CAN'T SAY "NO"

_. (Continued from page 12)

turned in, parked in the black shadow
of a wall, and switched off the car’s
lights and ignition. Before he turned to
the girl he took another long drink.
He sat for a while waiting for the
wine to burn through his veins. Marilyn
sat silently beside him, then she leaned
forward and turned on the radio.

. The big youth at the wheel also kept
his silence, and concentrated on nursing
the bottle of wine which he never let
leave his hands.

IFTEEN minutes later he had fin-

ished the quart and flipped it out on
the macadam. He laughed inanely when
he heard it shatter.

“All right,” he said, turning to
Marilyn and pulling her toward him.
The girl squirmed away. “Don’t,” she
Said in an indifferent tone.

The youth shifted his weight. and
reached out for her again. He pulled
her to him and his lips groped for hers.

With a wrench she tore herself loose.
“That wine is sure working on you,”
she said. “I don’t want you pawing over
me. I’ve got. something to figure out.”

“So you don’t want me, eh?” the
husky teenager said. Marilyn made no
reply.,

“Well, damn it, I want you and I’m
going to have you,” the youth said. This
time he lunged for the girl. His hand

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strokes. He looked up the street and

‘saw a movie theatre at the end of the

block. A few moments later the agent
heard the roar of the Third Avenue
elevated line. He was on the corner of
Sixth Street and Second Avenue and
he began to look for the one thing:
that was missing—a pool hall. The agent
walked up Sixth Street, but could find
no pool parlor. He came to a place in
the middle of the block called the
Ukranian Hall. It seemed to be a social
hall. The agent stood outside for some
time. Finally someone came out.

“Say Mac,” he said, “can a guy get
a game of pool in there?”

“Sure, if he’s a member,” the stranger
replied.

The agent phoned Vetterli and noti-
fied him of his discovery. It was agreed
that it would be unwise to search the
Ukranian Hall at that hour. Vetterli
suggested that they wait until after
church let out, when more people
could be in the hall. Vetterli assigned
another agent to thearea.

A few hours later the two federal
investigators walked down five steps into
the building. They heard the sound of
clicking pool balls and walked toward
it. Presently, they came to a staircase
and walked down twelve steps to the
floor below, just as Reecé had reported.
On this floor there were four pool
tables. Beyond the pool hall area there
was a large meeting room with a wooden
floor and stacks of folding chairs against
the walls. There was no doubt that they
had found the place to which Harold
Reece had been taken after his abduc-
tion. The federal agents reported their
findings to Vetterli.

Agent Vetterli, in turn, notified J.
Edgar Hoover, who ordered that ten
men keep the Ukranian Hall under con-
stant surveillance. No arrests were to

be made ‘yet.
A FEW days later a Packard coupe
was spotted at a race track. The
parking attendant copied .its license
plate number and handed it to a track
policeman. The number was then for-
warded to Vetterli. Checking with the
motor vehicle bureau, it was learned
that the Packard’s owner had had a
black Buick coupe, license number
7N-900, registered to him the previous
year. The owner was a Mr. Gula of
Brooklyn, New York.

.A check was run on Gula and it was
learned that he was the manager of
the Ukranian Hall. Without tipping their
hand, the agents were able to take
several photographs of the hall manager.
These were shown to Harold Reece,
who stated positively that the manager
was not one of the men who had kid-
naped him. The obvious conclusion was
that Gula either rented or loaned his
car to someone else. This assumption
was soon confirmed when the agent
assigned to tail the manager learned
that the car’ was often used by Gula’s
son, Demetrius: The very next day an
agent followed Demetrius, called Danny

by his friends, to a race track. At the
track, Danny Gula met a friend. After
the races the agent tailed Danny and
the friend. to what was apparently the
friend’s home in Brooklyn.

A quick check disclosed that the
friend’s name was Pete Rizzo, a hood-
lum well known to the New York po-
lice, who often used the name Jake
Lascala as an alias. Danny Gula was
a dapper man, about 30 years old, 5
feet nine inches tall, with a small must-
ache and a taste for sharp gray suits.
Rizzo was heavier, slightly taller and of
swarthy complexion. They fit. the de-
scriptions suppled by Reece to a T.

Gula and Rizzo were kept under
constant surveillance. It was noticed
that the two men were constantly going
to visit a criminal lawyer. The purpose
of these visits was soon learned. It
seems Rizzo and Gula had a friend
in prison named Steve Sacoda. The two
men were trying to spring Sacoda from
Sing Sing where he had recently been
sent after violating his parole. Neither
Rizzo nor Gula had any visable means
of support and the FBI assumed that
they were living off Reece’s ransom
money.

Harold Reece was taken in a car to
a spot where he could observe, unseen,

“the comings and goings at the Ukranian

Hall. He unhesitatingly pointed out
Danny Gula and Pete Rizzo as two of
the men who had kidnaped him. The
positive identification was reported to
J. Edgar Hoover. The FBI head felt,
however, that no arrests should be made
yet. If the Reece kidnapers were
rounded up and convicted the kidnap-
ing of Arthur Fried might go unsolved.
If the bureau bided its time and kept
the abduction ring under surveillance,
they might yet obtain the evidence in~
the Fried murder.

At this point a third suspect entered ©
the picture. Another man was observed
going to the attorney’s office with Rizzo
and Gula. This man was soon identified
as James Russo, a small-time punk with
a police record. Harold Reece had said
that he was kidnaped by three men.
Russo might very well have been the
third man, Vetterli thought.

During the next week the trio was

seen constantly together. The police
records disclosed one interesting fact
about James Russo. He had a reputa-
tion for a willingness to talk under
pressure. Finally, Hoover decided to
move. He believed that if each member
of the trio were questioned indepen-
dently, with specal attention to Russo,
someone would be willing to talk.
_ On October 25th, 1948, Vetterli had
the three suspects picked up and
brought to the Federal Building, where
they were questioned separately at great
length. James Russo, true to form,
broke quickly. Pete Rizzo soon followed
suit. Both admitted their part in the
Reece kidnaping. Russo denied having’
had anything to do with the abduction

‘or murder of Arthur -Fried, but told

the police that he had heard of it.


New Juk Newlel [pbuve “/4a/37 A0'/ Actiwdt tf by-eovtion

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FPO OR SORT Re | SERS ene ae — SS SOS OO Oe OR Oe pegetan SSSR ee is - Oh Ly A 5 a
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| HAM, Charles and FOWLER, Frederick ee nee

Ham, 19, and Fowler, 18, both black, electrocuted at
Sing Sing Prison, N,. Y.y (Kings County) on 1-21-1937,
Affirmed in memorandum decisions 5 NE -2nd- 372
"eeeFowler and Ham killed Henry Euess ing, a Brooklyn
butcher, when he interrupted their holdup of a jewelry —
stores.." TDES-PICAYUNE, New Orleans, LA 1-22-1937 (1-2.},


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APPEALS

LAST WORDS

EXECUTION

FRANK NEWTON ZFrice SUPPLY-DOTHAN


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He had no way of seeing whether the
package was picked up, Farber said.

“Half an hour later,” Irving Farber
took up the narrative, “I returned to my
office. A man telephoned and said, ‘Listen.
We played ball with you. Now are you
going to play ball with us? Is this money
marked in any way?’

“‘No,’ I told him. ‘I drew that money
out of our own bank and no one knows it.
I haven't told a soul.’”

Benny Farber, the victim, resumes the
harrowing tale:

“T had been held a prisoner almost twen-
ty-four hours at this time. I still had the
tape over my eyes. Then one of the men,
I figured there were three by this time,
told me they were going to turn me loose.

“They made me get into a car and they
drove for about an hour—it seemed to me.
Then they led me out and left me standing
in a hallway, telling me not to remove the
tape from my eyes, not to move for ten
minutes, and not to tell the G-Men or the

cops!

“When I thought ten minutes had
elapsed, I yanked off the tape and, walking
out to the sidewalk, found that I was at
the corner of East 65th Street and East
End_ Drive, in New York City.

“Oh, yes. Before the men left me, they
gave me twenty cents carfare.”

The two Farbers then told the two G-
Men that they had tried to keep faith with
the kidnapers; that they considered young
Benjamin got off lucky by not having to
pay any more—or, for that fact—in that
he got off with his life!

bg THE MEANTIME, as the kidnap victim’s
story “sank in,” the investigators ar-
rived at a mutual conclusion; that, in all
likelihood, the kidnapers of Farber were
the same who abducted Arthur Fried, whom
they had long since given up as dead. The
circumstances of the actual snatch were
different, but the method of procedure
when it came to ransom negotiations, bore

KILLING PREACHER OF THE OZARKS

On the other side of town, far from the
gruesome tragedy shrouded by the silence
and the night, was the home of the Rever-
end William C. Fain.

Everybody for miles around knew the
home of Fain. Hardly a soul living in
that district had not at one time or an-
other been in his home.

Psst. THEY MAY have come for comfort
and for cheer... later they had re-
turned to give cheer and comfort.

All the old-timers remembered the day
the Reverend William C. Fain and his
pretty wife had arrived to take charge of
the little church in Fisk.

At once, the townsfolk took Preacher
Fain and his wife to their hearts.

Mrs. Fain had a winsome, delicate face,
a generous, sympathetic, and understand-
ing manner. And gallantly, she undertook
the life of hardship that lay before her.

It wasn’t only the personality of the
preacher that the townsfolk liked. He
was religiously wholesome. He wasn’t a
man set apart from his congregation. He
was born of a middle-class family and he
found himself at ease, and at home among
the people of the foothills.

He was one with his flock!

Although he was deeply religious, as
was to be expected, he had what is rarer
in a man of the cloth, a ready sense of
humor!

The preacher was short, showing a
tendency to become a little stocky as he
grew older. He had fine, regular fea-
tures. He possessed the charm of a quick
smile and a ready friendship.

But what pleased the solid, thrifty,
steady-minded people of the hills, was his
devotion to them and to his wife and the
family that so rapidly grew up around
him.

There was a new baby every year in the
Fain home!

Some of them died. But, ten of them
lived!

A’ FIRST IT HAD BEEN EASY for the Fains
to get along on the meagre salary the
poor parish could pay its pastor. And in
the initial few weeks of occupancy of their
new home, the pastor and his wife had had
the helping hands of the men and women
of the congregation.

As is customary in such small commu-
nities, the women had helped with their
needlework, making curtains, table linens

and bedspreads, and the men had done’ the.

decorating and carpentery work. When

the place was finally complete, it was neat

and attractive, but it boasted none of the
modern conveniences,

With the rapid arrival of their children,
Pastor Fain’s salary wouldn’t meet ex-
penses. He helped his wife about the
humble home, not considering himself too
dignified to put on an apron and cook
the meals if his wife was indisposed, or,
if she was recovering from child-birth.

But he faced the fact that he must make
more money to feed and clothe his family.
_ Preacher Fain at first took any small
jobs he could get. And, by so doing, he
gained even more respect in the commu-
nity. But odd jobs were too infrequent,
and he needed something that would bring
in a steady income.

He bought a sawmill on the banks of
the St. Francis River.

There, every week-day for many years,
he labored, the loud whirr and buzz and
screech of his saws reverberating through
the hills from early morning until sun-
down.

A FEW YEARS LATER he accepted a Dep-
uty Sheriff’s badge. The small fees
from that office came in handy.

The hard years aged Preacher Fain.
They also made an old woman of his wife
by the time she was in her middle thirties.

And then, early in 1936, she died!

Her death was unexpected and it was
a terrible blow to her husband.

It must have been, that in that hour he
doubted the God whose words he had
passed a lifetime preaching to others.

After the funeral, he returned home.
But for days he sat around, staring into
space, mumbling phrases from the Bible.

Myrtle, his oldest child, was at that
time grown. She took her mother’s place
as the director of the household itself.

And Pastor Fain roamed the streets of
Fisk and the countryside roads, hands
clasped behind him, head bent.

For the first few weeks following Mrs.
Fain’s death, his neighbors thought noth-
ing of his ramblings. But as he appeared
unable to resign himself to the tragedy,
whispers went around that the pastor was
getting “a little queer in the head.”

All those weeks he did not go near the
sawmill. He sought none of the fees from
his deputy sheriff’s job.

A bewineme OF THE CONGREGATION finally

began to be concerned about the Fain
children. The Ladies’ Aid Society carried

food and. clothing te the youngsters.

And then came the day when Reverend

the earmarks of being master-minded by
the same gang.

_ Meanwhile, they started pouring ques-
tions at the young coal dealer. Had any-
thing happened which might indicate
where he was held prisoner? Had any of
the kidnapers made any chance remark
which might indicate how they happened
to select him as their victim?

Had—well, there were a lot of “hads”
—and, it was Farber who was to give them
their first actual clue in running down not
only the kidnapers of himself, but those
of Fried and another victim, yet to be
snatched, as well.

Church bells, the clack of billiard balls,
the sound of jitterbug music, the noises on
the street outside. All these strange “clues”
lead to the final capture of New York's
CREMATING KIDNAPERS. The conclu-
sion of this amazing REAL story will ap-
pear in March REAL Detective.

From page 31

Fain did not appear to deliver his Sunday

sermon.

The following Sunday he again failed
his congregation.

A committee from the church visited
him. He told them that he would never
again preach a sermon.

It wasn’t long afterwards that the Rev-
erend William C. Fain was one of the
steadiest customers of the Fisk barroom.

Men and women whom he had helped
when he was in charge of the parish,
urged him to hire someone to look after
the children. Myrtle, they said, was too
young to shoulder so much responsibility.
And Myrtle had a boy friend, a handsome
young fellow, Clayton Wells.

She hadn’t told her father, but she and
Wells wanted to get married.

After much urging and arguing, Fain
consented to look around for someone to
_ the burden off his daughter’s shoul-

ers,

Living in Fisk at that time was red-
headed Beulah Evans.

Beulah was an orphan, a tall, voluptu-
ously-rounded girl of seventeen, full of
spunk and adventure, eager for excite-
ment and gaiety.

She had proved so headstrong that her
foster parents finally had ordered her to
pack her belongings and get out!

And it was Beulah Evans whom some-
one suggested that Pastor Fain hire to
take care of his motherless brood.

Rs WENT INTO THE Fain home, Fain
agreeing to give her her room and
board and $2.50 a week.

The home routine was resumed.

And, down on the banks of the St.
Francis River, the old sawmill again be-
gan to hum and whirr and shriek. Fain
went into Fisk frequently to try to pick
up a few fees through his deputy sheriff’s
work.

And he walked right past the barroom
doors.

Preacher Fain was almost like his old
self.

What started tongues wagging was, that
he hurried in and out of Fisk. He wanted
to be around his home as much as pos-
sible. All his old, natural gregariousness
was gone. And, the townsfolk wondered
why they did not see Beulah any more.

That was soon explained.

It was explained by Beulah herself.
She appeared suddenly at the home of one
of her girl friends.

“He doesn’t know I’m out,” she said.

73

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Fried still lived, and then they had doubts as to the authen-
ticity of kidnapers who would specify such a hazardous
method of paying the ransom money.

With the dropping of this plan, the kidnapers never again
attempted to communicate with the missing man’s family.
And the Frieds grimly conceded that Arthur had been slain.

J. Edgar Hoover’s G-Men, too, had arrived at this con-
clusion and, once they had obtained permission of the fam-
ily to go actively to work, they started a fine-tooth-combing
of New York’s underworld that placed at least a dozen ex.
convicts under constant surveillance.

Angle after angle, clue after clue, were investigated, but
seemingly the kidnapers had destroyed every bit of evidence
as to their identities. Nevertheless, the G-Men kept pains-
takingly at work, although they were uncommunicative as
usual so far as the public was concerned.

The kidnaping of Fried was destined to be shuffled back
into secondary importance a little more than a month after
the last word was heard from his snatchers, by the strange
disappearance of Peter Levine, twelve, a precocious New
Rochelle, New York, High School pupil.

Little Peter, the son of Murray Levine, a well-to-do, al-
though not wealthy lawyer, and a friend of President Frank-
lin D. Roosevelt, had gone to a
near-by store to have one of his
skates repaired. He stopped on
the corner and talked with sev-
eral of his chums, and then went
on his way.

From that instant he dropped
out of sight as mysteriously as
though he had vanished in thin
air.

True, that same afternoon, a
voice called the boy’s mother on
the telephone and directed her to
go to a vacant lot near her home,
where she would find a note.

HE DID So, and learned that

her son was held for ransom.
Naturally, her first thought was
to telephone her husband in his
office on Fifth Avenue, Manhat-
tan.

Levine hurried home and
quickly set the police to work
trying to trace his son and the
writer of the snatch note.

The New Rochelle police
quickly called in the G-Men—
the same who were already
working on the Fried case—and
they established “watchful wait-
ing” headquarters in a vacant
house in New Rochelle, from
which they intercepted all mes-
sages going in and out of the
Levine home.

Like in the Fried case, how-
ever, they were stymied at every

Here is the unholy quartette: (L. to R.
—top) John Virga, Demetrius Gula;
(bottom) Joseph Sacoda and William
Jacknis. All have confessed to guilty
knowledge of one of the most sordid
crimes in the history of New York.
They are scheduled to go on trial as
this article goes to press.

un nh eC on Lona i

a 5 oo Pn NE Pn

point by a dearth of clues, although the kidnapers did con-
tact Levine several times through two Westchester County
ministers,

In the meantime, the G-Men were hampered on the Levine
case by the efforts of chiselers—persons who had nothing to
do with the kidnaping—trying to collect money from Lawyer
Levine on the pretext that they knew the whereabouts of his
only son.

During the ensuing weeks, no less than eight of these
chiselers were trapped by the G-Men, in places stretching all
the way from Newark, New Jersey, to Denver, Colorado.
All were eventually given heavy prison sentences, in spite
of the fact that they had no actual knowledge of the kid-
naping.

Just about a year ago, the Levine kidnaping case came to
a tragic halt when the missing boy’s headless torso was
washed up on the fashionable Iselin estate, on the shores of
Echo Bay, not more than two miles from his home.

Apparently, the boy had been thrown overboard from a
boat, a rock or anchor fastened around his neck with a wire,
which, with the action of the waves, had finally decapitated
him,

His kidnaping and murder is one (Continued on page 72)

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were no more legal loopholes through
which he might hope to escape.

He had fought the case through all the
courts of the State and even to the United
States Supreme Court, but had been un-
able to obtain a new trial.

The date of the execution was set for
March 27, 1936. On Sunday, March  sev-
enth, a feminine friend of the killer, visited
with him in his cell in death row. Her
purpose for that visit was a sinister one,
for she went to inform him that she had
managed to have secreted in the prison
yard two guns, which, if he could reach,
he could use to blast his way to freedom.

Because of the nature of the conversa-
tion the vigilant guard on duty in the cell-

block became suspicious of the use of the
word “splinters,” by the woman. She used
it very carefully in her conversation, and
the guard finally decided it referred to
something hidden in the kindling in the
machine shop.

A search brought to light two guns and
an admission by the woman that she had
hidden them where they had been found.
She was detained and was later charged
with attempting to aid the killer to escape,
a penalty voided by his own death.

For Hall’s last chance faded with the
abortive escape plot, and at 10:02 a.M.,
on the morning of March 27, 1936, he was
led from his cell in Folsom, a broken man,
pleading for his life.

NEW YORK’S CREMATING KIDNAPERS

of the few major unsolved cases in the
hands of the G-Men now, but as this is
written “a break” is imminent, according
to those in the know. More details of this
will appear in these pages when Hoover
and his men land these brutal killers.

HROUGHOUT the search for the Levine

boy, the investigators kept a wary eye
open for the snatchers of Fried. At first
it was thought the same mob might have
been responsible for both, but eventually
this idea was discarded because of dis-
similarities in the methods of the kid-
napers.

Another two months elapsed, however,
and still it seemed as though the G-Men
were destined to meet with another of their
few failures to solve a major crime. Then
early in July, 1938, an excited man tele-
phoned the New York Field Office of the
Federal Bureau of Investigation. :

In tense tones he gasped: (although it
was obvious he was trying to disguise his
voice).

“Are you interested in another kidnap-
ing?”

Swhy—er—certainly,” the G-Man who
answered the telephone replied. “Of course
we’re interested; that is—if it’s a real, bon-
afied kidnaping.”

“This is a real one,” the voice answered.
“They paid ransom and everything!”

And, after considerable haggling, during
which the Federal agent had signaled to
another agent to try and trace the caller’s
number, he finally obtained the name and
address of the supposed victim.

Within half an hour, several agents, led
by Reed Vetterli, one of the FBI heroes
of the celebrated Kansas City “Union Sta-
tion Massacre” several years ago, intro-
duced themselves at the home of Benjamin
Farber, thirty-three, who lived with his
wife and two children in a comfortably-
furnished home at 3100 Brighton-Second
Street, Brighton Beach, Brooklyn.

Mrs. Farber answered the bell.

“No,” she declared. “My husband isn’t
here. Neither is his brother, Irving. They
went away for a few days—fishing up in
the Catskills.”

6 Sone THE agents asked her if her hus-
band had been the victim of kidnapers.
Mrs. Farber shook her head, then an-
nounced they would have to talk to her
husband. The agents knew they were on
the trail of something hot. Finally, after
getting the name of the resort at which
her husband was visiting, they left.
That same afternoon two of the agents
arrived in the Catskill hotel where Farber
was registered. After the manager singled
him out, they accosted him, identified
themselves, and started to question him.
Farber related a most interesting story

72

to the agents; one which was destined to
furnish the actual solution to the kidnap-
cremation of Fried. But he was unaware
he had been the victim of the same group.

In the presence of his brother, Irving,
who corroborated much of his narrative,
Farber graphically described his experience
thus:

“About eight a. M. on April eighteenth,
I was at home. The telephone bell rang
and I answered it. A man on the other
end said, ‘Is Benny Farber in?’ I said
‘Yes. This is Benny. Who is this?’

“But the man on the other end was
disconnected without answering me. I
waited at the telephone a few minutes and
when he didn’t call back, I thought noth-
ing more about it. I ate my breakfast,
read the paper a few minutes and then left
for my coal company office at Junius
Street and Blake Avenue, in the East New
York section of Brooklyn.

“On the way, about an hour later, I
went to the National City Bank branch at
Brighton Beach Avenue and Sixth Street.
I parked my car in front, went inside and
drew out $100 in bills of small denomina-
tion.

“With the money in my pocket I got
back into my car, and then I heard a
voice, right alongside of me, say, ‘Hey,
Benny.’ I looked around and saw a man
with a gun getting into the car with me.
He had the weapon leveled right at my
head, and he was a tough-looking fellow.
I asked him what he wanted, but he just
waved his-gun. Then he said:

“‘Go ahead and drive—and don’t ask
questions!’

“T_Jr sTILL MENACED me with the gun, so

there was nothing else for me to do
except to keep on driving, like he told
me to. So I drove on about ten minutes
until we reached Coney Island Avenue and
Brightwater Court.

“There he ordered me to stop, and a
second man got into the car. The first
man then got behind the wheel, with me
in the middle, on the front seat, and the
second man, who also had a gun, on the
outside. I was pinned in so I couldn't
move.

“The second man then reached into his
pocket and pulled out a pair of smoked
glasses. He ordered me to put them on,
and I did so. Then, as we started up
again, he told me to keep my head down
so people couldn’t see my face.

“I said, ‘If this is a stick-up, all right.
I have about $100 in my pocket. You
can take it and welcome.’

“Tt’s no stickup,’ said the first man.
‘You'll find out what it is later on.’

“They drove for about an hour. Then
they took me into a house which was cold
and damp-feeling. They took off my

By the time the scaffold was reached he
had completely caved in, and was able to
show none of the ruthless courage which
he had displayed on that day when he cut
down Kent and Quigley.

He had no cocaine to help him in that
“last mile.”

The noose was adjusted and the warden
waved his hand. The trap opened and
Hall’s neck snapped. Like Stephen Kent
he died instantly, a felon instead of a hero.

24 issues of REAL DETECTIVE cost you
$5.00 unless you use coupon on page 89.
Save $2.00 by ordering today.

From page 57

glasses and stuck tape over my eyes so
I couldn’t see anything at all.

“One of the men then said:

“‘This is a kidnaping. You are held
for ransom.’

“Then the other said:

“You have ten friends, haven’t you?’

“What you mean?’ I asked them.

“ ‘Well,’ he replied. ‘Give us their names
and we'll pick out two to act as go-
betweens.’

S ELL, I THEN started to call off a list

of my friends. I never knew it was
so hard to name ten people who you could
call your friends, as I did then. Finally,
I made up the list, however, and one of
the men went out.

“I tried to talk to the one who remained
behind to guard me, but he gruffly told me
to shut up and mind my own business.

“Anyhow, I afterwards learned that one
of the kidnapers called my brother Irving,
who was at our coal office. He told Irving
that I was held for ransom. Then he read
him the ten names I had given, and asked
Irving to pick out the two who he’d like
to act as intermediary in negotiations for
my ransom,

“Finally, Irving named two.

“The man on the telephone said that he
wanted $25,000, and that he would contact
the two go-betweens later.”

Then, according to Farber, the kidnap-
ers started leaving notes in saloon wash-
rooms in various sections of Williamsburg,
a congested Brooklyn tenement district.
Upon some of these occasions, one of the
gang would call his brother on the tele-
phone and tell him where to go to pick it up.

On other occasions one of the go-be-
tweens would be called and given similar
instructions,

“Irving,” Farber went on, “pleaded pov-
erty, and finally the kidnapers reduced
their demands to $2,000. Eventually, they
called and told Irving to go to a cigar store
at Broadway and Roebling Street, Brook-
lyn, where he would find a note between
pages 500 and 501 of the Brooklyn Tele-
phone Directory.”

Irving Farber followed instructions. He
found the note which told him to take
$1,900—it mentioned that already the gang
had taken the $100 his brother had with-
drawn from the bank—and to drive to New
York City, and then to turn around and
drive back to Brooklyn over the Williams-
burg Bridge.

fae DID so, carrying the money
wrapped in a bundle of newspapers,
and then, as directed in the note, hurled
the bundle over the bridge rail at a point
near the Brooklyn approach, which is al-
most 100 feet above a near-deserted street.

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Marie Sacoda, common-
law wife of Joseph Sa-
coda, convict, one of
the pair who snatched
Arthur Fried, White
Plains, New York, con-
tractor, later murdered
and cremated, and her
sister,

(Conclusion)

Apro MusIC, the tolling of church bells, and the click-
ing of billiard balls, overheard by two subsequent
victims of the kidnapers and murderers of Arthur

Fried, proved to be the clues which led to the abductors’
capture by J. Edgar Hoover’s famous G-Men.

The arrest of four men, one of whom made a complete
confession, came as a direct result of the accidental discov-
ery of one of Hoover’s clever investigators, that Benjamin
Farber, thirty-three, prosperous Brooklyn coal merchant,
had also been snatched and had paid heavy ransom for
his life.

Through questioning of Farber it was learned that Wil-
liam Jacknis, twenty-seven, a former playground inspector
for New York City employed by the WPA, had visited his
home the night before he was prodded by revolver point
into the kidnaper’s automobile.

Not that there was anything suspicious at the time about
Jacknis’ visit, but simply the fact that the G-Men were
leaving no stone unturned in their efforts to solve the case,
led them to keep Jacknis under surveillance for more than
two months without any reward for their efforts.

Then came the kidnaping of Norman Miller, nineteen,
one minute after midnight on July 24, 1938. Miller, whose
father, Charles, is owner of a thriving produce market, was
snatched as he stepped into his father’s car near a moving
picture house at Clinton Road and Coney Island Avenue,
Brooklyn.

With him was a friend, Sidney Lehrer. Suddenly two
thugs stepped up and forced them to throw up their hands
at the point of drawn revolvers. While the two youths

by William F. X. Coyle

} ARTHUR FRIED was |
CREMATED jn FURNACE po
OF UKRANIAN HALL §
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stood there, hands

upraised, two other
hoodlums joined the
party.

The two victims were blindfolded, their mouths taped,
and driven across a bridge to Manhattan. An hour later,
Lehrer was released, bearing a message written by young
Miller, that he was in the hands of kidnapers who demanded
$100,000 ransom in lieu of his life.

The victim’s father was in no position to raise such a
large sum, but he called a family conference and finally
managed to get together $15,000 in cash.

Twenty-four hours after the abduction, a telephone mes-
sage was received by the elder Miller, who informed the
“soice” on the wire that he was unable to pay $100,000.

“Well,” replied the voice, viciously, “how much can you
pay? And, if you try to chisel on us, your son’s as good
as dead now. How much?”

Naturally, the distracted father was upset. He started
to explain how he had raised the $15,000, but suddenly the
wire went dead. Apparently the “voice” on the other end
suspected that attempts were being made to trace the call.

ILLER WAS FRANTIC. And, hearing no more from the

kidnapers for almost twenty-four hours, he was on

the verge of notifying the police. Other members of his
family, however, begged him to remain silent.

The following morning another “voice”, quite different

in tonal qualities, called. And, this time, Miller, after a

lengthy conversation, told the caller that all he had been

Another Real Story of the G-Men

SIDE ENTRANCE

Ukrainian
diagram of
som negct
At right

shown exarr
found in +t
Hall, where

was cremate


show and sauntered back to where they
had parked the machine. Just as Nor-
man started the engine, two dark
shapes emerged from the shadows and
leaped to the running boards, one on
each side. ~

“Get out!’ Norman was ordered. Sid-
ney was told to stay in the car. “We're
taking this kid with us,” one of the
gunmen told Lehrer. “Whether he ever
comes back may depend on you, so
listen carefully.”

Sidney was directed to go to his
friend’s home and talk only with the
kidnaped boy’s father. Charles Miller
was to get $25,000 in unmarked bills of
small denominations, put them into a
compact bundle and leave the money in
an ashcan at the corner of Twenty-
third Street and First Avenue, on the
bank of the East River in Manhattan.

“He’ll be watched constantly,” young
Lehrer was warned. “If he goes to the
cops or tries any tricks when he brings
the money, his kid’ll go into the river.
Now scram!”

As Sidney drove away, the abductors
hustled Norman around a corner and
into a big sedan. In the darkness, and

with their caps pulled low over their

faces, the victim had little opportunity
to observe’ the kidnapers. He noted,
however, that both appeared to be
Italians, and that one wore a short,
black mustache. ,

In their machine they closed his eyes
and mouth with adhesive tape, and
forced him to slide down in the seat.
With a warning not to show himself
during the ride—a caution emphasized
with the prodding muzzle of a gun—
they started the trip to Manhattan.

While taking all other precautions,
the snatch terrorists made a fatal mis-
take when they failed to prevent the
20-year-old Norman from hearing.

34 Had they plugged his ears, had they

made him deaf as well as blind and
dumb, they might have committed the
perfect crime. But as it was, their vic-
tim received plenty of clues through
his auditory sense—plenty of clues to
spell the mobsters’ doom!

In the hideout to which the kidnap-
ers took him, the youth lay sleepless
for hours. From the rustling of paper
—a sound made, he judged, by a man
reading—the boy guessed there was
only one guard in the room with him.
He tried once to attract attention by
grunting through the tape.

“Quiet!” came a snarl. “Just lay
there and be good:or you'll be elected
for a bumpoff!” i :

After that the victim remained mo-
tionless, At last the deep pealing of
church bells came. to him. They
sounded close by. He wondered about

- them. He’d been snatched a few min-
utes after midnight, on Monday morn-_

ing, July 25. Now it must be around
7 o'clock. The bells probably signal-
ized mass in a Roman Catholic church.
He tried to gauge the direction from
which the sound came; but couldn’t
tell exactly.

Perhaps an hour later other men
entered the room.. There were low
conversations in a far corner. He could
not distinguish the words. He was able
to determine that there were at least
four persons in the place beside him-
self, however.

He was given coffee again, then the
gag was replaced. Some of the men
went out. After a long wait another
noise became noticeable. He heard
frequent, irregular clicks, coming from
above. He. listened intently for some
time, trying to identify the sounds. At
last he recognized them. The clicks
were the contacts of billiard balls. His
prison was beneath a poolroom.

More hours
judged was lat
noted the pound
his head, and tl
minutes the scre
floor. The shart
to his ears, folloy
was broken fror
rumble of voice
guessed that son
going on upstair

It broke up @
that, all four of
the room again.
whispers, still
anything that w
felt a rough ha
him to his feet.

“Okay, kid,” :
time to go.”
Despite his «

x

John Vir:
convict,
with mon
had no vi
of suppor
under $s
the fas!
kidnap ii


GULA and SACODA - New York

di

In the basement of the hall where

the kidnap victim was held, poli
seek the body of a murdere nea

the :
sout
left anc
ing to }
But
the get:
of prec
chase, |
Hudc
East R
a hard
crouchs
the pri
som=—a
eyes ti
in the :
whom
ready
The
which
blazing
Coney
The
the dc
quiete
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slums
The
such
time f
the ru
overh
two k
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a cur
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abduc

FRONT PAGE DETE@TIVE, July, 1944


+ (Continued from page 34)

now know that it was Sacoda. He said,
‘Go ahead and drive.’ I drove around
for about ten minutes until we reached

- Coney Island Avenue and Brightwater:

Court. He ordered me to stop and a
second man entered the car. I also
know that this man was John Virga.

“Sacoda then drove. Virga put a
pair of smoked glasses on me. He told
me to keep my head down. I said, ‘If
this is a stickup, I have $100 in my
pocket.’ Sacoda said, ‘This is no stick-
up—you’ll find out what it is.’ ” :

“They drove for about an hour, then
they took me to a house. It was cold
and damp and they took off my glasses

“and put tape around my eyes. One of
the men said, ‘This,is a kidnap; you’re
being held for ransom.’

_. “They made me write out the names
of ten men friends. They said they’d
pick intermediaries, I didn’t think any-
thing of it then, of course, but one of
the names I put down was Jacknis.”

Testimony showed that the kid-
napers telephoned Farber’s brother,
Irving, at the Farber Coal office, 556
East 98th Street, Brooklyn, and de-
manded $25,000. After exchanges of
notes (one was found in page 500 of a
telephone directory in a candy store
at Roebling Street and ‘Broadway,
Brooklyn) the demand was reduced to
$2,000.

In’ accordance with instructions,
Irving Farber testified, a package con-
taining the money was dropped from
the Brooklyn end of the Williams-
burg bridge. Farber was released at
65th Street and East End Drive in Man-

.

hattan after being held about twelve

hours.

“They\ warned me that my family

would be killed if I reported the case
to Federal men or police,” Farber
testified. He spoke. slowly and with
complete confidence.

Actually, the case was not reported
until after the searchers, guided by
Miller, had closed in on the gang. —

The last member of the kidnap ring
was found guilty. In a courtroom
packed with policemen because of a tip
that underworld pals might try to de-
- liver Virga, Judge Freschi sentenced
._ him to fifty years to life imprisonment

for the Miller and Farber kidnapings.
He now faces at least forty-five years in
prison before being eligible for parole.

‘Virga’s face blanched and his knees
sagged when sentence was pronounced.
His wife, who had been refused admit-
tance to the courtroom, was told the
“news in the corridor and shrieked
wildly in despair. But a criminal must
pay the penalty for his crimes against
society.

That anguished wail was the last
sound in the strange case broken by
Norman Miller, the listening victim,
who remembered every sound he had
heard during those terrible hours
when he was held prisoner. And now
this had enabled him to “break” the
case. .

_Miller’s intelligent action had again
shown that the criminal can never win
—nho matter how carefully he plans his
crime. Citizens in all parts of the coun-
try are realizing more completely than
_ ever before that they can help the po-
lice authorities by giving them leads
such as Norman Miller did. And this
interesting true story demonstrates
how every American can cooperate
with federal and local police to bring
about the punishment of men who
break the laws of our country,

Killer’s Love Affair

.. (Continued from page 33)

with me and Will Hughes’ death?”
cried Eastep as he sat down.

“T’ve been working all night on
this,” answered Sheriff Taylor, “and
I’ve discovered a lot of things. Let’s
start back to a day not so long ago
when your wife died. I’ve got the doc-
tor’s report on that. Your wife, it
seems, died with an avowed suspicion
in her mind that she was being poi-
soned. She told several of the visiting
neighbors—and even Mrs. Regan—that
she suspected you because you wanted
her out of the way so you could keep
on gadding about with Ila Hughes. Am

right?”

“That’s a lie!” screamed Eastep.
“The doctor signed the death certifi-
cate and he ought to know what my
wife died from. And as for those lying
tongues, they’re just trying to make
trouble for Ila because she is so nice to
everyone else and to me. They’ve al-
ways hated her.”

“You mean the people who live
around the Hughes home?” |

Eastep nodded and his bloodless lips
began to twitch. He raised his haggard
face to Sheriff Taylor. :

“Honest to heaven I didn’t have any-
thing to do with Will Hughes’ death,
Sheriff,” he said. “Maybe if you asked
Hla about it she could tell you some-
thing. She told me the other day that
some man had been seen prowling in
the barnyard and he was a stranger.”

Sheriff Taylor nodded soberly and
after a few more words he left. He
went out into the outer office and
picked up the telephone. Five minutes

later Deputy Collins appeared and the-~

two men started the short drive to the
Hughes farmhouse once more. The sun
was up now and in the far-off distance
thunderhead clouds began to gather.
Sheriff Taylor tramped down upon the
accelerator.

“We’re going to make another search
of the death scene and I want to do it
before it rains,” he shouted above the
wind. “I’m not satisfied with the ‘way
this accident is turning out.”

‘Tm willing to bet my shirt that
Mrs. Hughes knows exactly what hap-
pened and how it happened!” said
Deputy Collins. “We haven't ques-
tioned her very much and maybe if we
questioned her again it might bring
some results.” .

Sheriff Taylor nodded and soon the
car pulled into the Hughes’ yard again.
There was a grim determination about
the men as they went directly to the
corncrib and ‘began a systematic
search. “ -

“I’m looking for footprints,” ex-
plained Sheriff Taylor, “footprints of
two men and a woman. If I find them
then our case will be complete.”

About ten feet from the barn door
and near the corncrib the ground was
muddy and there were innumerable
prints of mule hoofs. Among them were
the prints of human feet. Some of the
prints belonged to the sheriff and his
deputy where they had walked a few
hours previously, and they began a
closer inspection.

‘With a slide rule, Sheriff Taylor
measured all the prints. Those that be- - —e

Nips”
i ohhh ag et

ee
~~

longed to his deputy ;
obliterated. The o }
and then jotted thea.
small notebook, Sudden
an exclamation and poi
“There’s a different se
lins!” he cried. “That m
were two mien here wh,
curred. Listen; go into
get a pair of s be}
Hughes. We'll me:
which prints are his.” |
Collins hurried to the:
was met at the door by
Her eyes were.red fror
she did not seem to bx

~ when fhe deputy aske

man’s shoes. In. “s
eager to comply with ¢
quest. Five minutes late;
had satisfied himself th
prints fitted Hughes’ s
Palrw ne ‘eons oe
rom his kneeling positi
“Go back to the ‘eat
small sack of plaster,
dered. “I’m not over
and I’m going to ma
sions of these prints.”
When Deputy Collin
men began to make thee
hour later they had tak
in plaster of each. of ¢)

\

prints. These_were sto’

and then they turned
to the barn again, Sherifi
towards the field and sai
“If those mules stam)
death—taking for gran
is nothing in those sho
$
.
beasts?” : |
“I wouldn it
Collins, “but I'll go after
let him handle them. Hi:
Ed Regan looked odd
when they made knowr
but he turned towards th
a word. Ten minutes lat
lor had completed exam:
of the mules. He shook b
“No stains whatsoever
nounced. “Now. it cow
that by continued t&
were wiped away, 1
even a small stain Ww ou
wounds in Hughes’ skul
he spilled a lot of t

their car and drove ©
tep home. Three of the
dren were playing in the
looked up curiously as t
the deputy entered the
thing was as they had le
the morning when Easte.
corted to jail. Be Ft
“Look for wearing ap
blood on it, Collins,” he
tep did this he got bloc
maybe. And if we can g¢
shoes we'll try those pri!
The sheriff and his -
work probing into. ever
would afford a hiding pl:
of half an hour they gave
no bloody clothing to be
of Eastep’s shoes were
small closet and these
minutely but they faile

that they had been use<

they were going outs”

-Taylor paused sudd

rectly at a small stove |
Ae “Wait a minute, Col)
_ (Continued on p

vial


hy
pie
x

s

HE GLEAMING dark sedan tunneled swiftly through
the arched trees along the dimly lighted streets of the

southern Flatbush section of Brooklyn. First to. the:
left and then to the right it nosed, like a beagle quarter-

ing to pick up the lost’scent of a rabbit.

But this was no pursuit of a quarry—it was instead
the getaway of a ruthless crew of criminals with:a parcel
of precious booty, a flight calculated to foil any attempted
chase, then or later. :

Huddled over the wheel as the machine sped toward
East River and the spires of downtown Manhattan was
4 hard-faced. hoodlum in his late 20s. In the tonneau
crouched another beady-eyed thug, and beside him was
the prize for which the mob hoped to reap $25,000 ran-
som=—a young man, coatless and hatless, his mouth and
eyes taped shut. The snatch victim was slumped low
in the seat, out of sight of other motorists and pedestrians
whom they passed. A gun was held against his ribs,
ready to blast out his life if he tried to attract attention.

The getaway followed a bold, cold-blooded kidnaping
which was engineered a few minutes earlier near the
blazing lights and tinseled gaiet¥ of New York’s famous
Coney Island.

The car bore to the right for some distance, skirting
the downtown district of Brooklyn and keeping to the
quieter thoroughfares of the Bushwick region. Then the
driver angled to the left and picked his way through the
slums of Williamsburg.

The victim made no attempt to resist; he knew any
such move would be utterly hopeless. From time to
time he felt the auto rock over streetcar tracks and heard
the rumble of subways or the thunder of elevated trains

- overhead. Not a single word was spoken between the

two kidnapers during the ride.

Indeed, the only sound within the sedan, save the
traffic noises, came when the driver flicked on the dash-
board radio. A torch singer was whooping it up with
a currently popular tune. The kidnaper turned the
radio off. —_ ,

Next there was a long, smooth, straight stretch, and the
abducted youth could tell from the peculiar whine’ of the

Joe Sacoda confessed to the G-men
that he had helped to kill. a’ kid- that stuff off your mouth a little while,”
nap victim and cremate the corpse. - said the guard. The boy-nodded, and the

tires that they were crossing one of
the bridges. linking Brooklyn and
Manhattan. .

Though blinded by the tape, the. vic-
tim was able to determine that he was
being driven through the east side of
lower Manhattan after they left the
bridge. The streetcars and El trains
told him that. After a short time the
machine came to a stop.

“Okay,” grunted the gunman in the
rear. “Slide out easy now. No tricks,
or your folks will fish you out of the
river.”

The youth felt himself being guided
across the sidewalk. “There’s steps,” his
captor told him. He mounted them
slowly, feeling for each with his foot.
A hand gripped his arm, led him into a
doorway and then downstairs. After
walking through what seemed to be a
‘narrow passageway, he was shoved
backward to a cot and ordered to sit
down. <

“You be good and maybe -we'll take

sticky strip was ripped from his lips.
; “That’s much better,” he said in a low
‘ tone. “Thanks.”
“You're Norman Miller, ain’t you?
Your dad’s Charles Miller, and_you live
at 1506 East Twenty-ninth Street in

Demetrius Gula’ (left) paid in the Brooklyn?”

"hot seat" at Sing Sing for his “Yes, that’s right,” the young man
part in the daring abduction plot. said. “Can you take this tape off my
eyes, too?”

“And let you get a look at us so you

could point us out to the bulls?” The

; kidnaper’s tone was derisive. “Fat

chance! Just keep your shirt on, and hope your old man

kicks through with 25 grand, that’s all. If he don’t—well,

it will just be too bad.”

. “My dad can’t pay $25,000,” young Miller said huskily.

“He hasn’t got that much money. No one in our family

has. I don’t understand why you picked on me to hold
for ransom.” :

“We got a finger man, kid. He pointed you out.”

“There must be some mistake, then. Surely ...’

“We don’t make that kind of mistakes,” the abductor
snapped. “Not any more, since . . —

“Can it!” The order came from across the room,
Norman believed. He reasoned it must be the driver
returning after hiding the sedan. “Keep your trap shut,”
the same voice continued. “You trying to get us a free
trip up the river? What’s the idea of untaping the
young mug, anyhow?” °

“Thought we’d better give him a little coffee. Keep
him in good condition. He might have quite a wait—
until his old geezer puts up, or we put him away.”

“Okay, give him the coffee. Then shut him up again.
And button your own lip. We ain’t running any de-
bating society.”

After a few minutes Miller sniffed the aroma of strong
coffee, and the first of the two snatch artists spoke again.
“You better drink this.” His voice was hard again, but
not as deadly as the second man’s. Norman gulped the
brew. After he had finished, his mouth was taped anew.
He lay back on the cot, trying to forget his fear in review-
ing what had happened, .in trying to picture what was
going on now back in Flatbush .. .

Clues by Ear

Earlier on that pleasant July night in 1938, Norman
and Sidney Lehrer, his closest friend, had gone in Miller’s
car to a movie house at Coney Island Avenue and
Quentin Road in Brooklyn. Miller, who had concluded
his freshman year at Franklin and Marshall College in
Lancaster, Pa., was enjoying the summer vacation with
his family. His father was a well-to-do businessman.

‘The two youths left the theater at the end of the late 33

/

’

Se iia *

it

head and the Rat slipped a 38 caliber re-
volver out of his pocket, .

“All right,” Pasty-I'ace said to the vic-
tim. “I’m going to take the gag out of
your mouth. If you make one sound [ll
kill you.” A revolver jammed into Fried’s
ribs. “Feel that?” the Rat asked.

Fried nodded.

“Just don’t make any mistake.” Pasty-
Face ripped the adhesive off Fried’s face
and the victim winced at the pain it
caused. .

“Something’s gone wrong?” Fried asked
anxiously in a high-pitched voice.

“You bet it has,” Pasty-Face sneered.
“I guess your coy doesn’t care if they
see you again—alive.’

“No, Ma give them a chance. They'll
get the money. Just call my brother at
the garage,” he pleaded. “Tell him I said
that if my dear ones have any love for
me at all, to do everything you say.” _

“l’m going out now,” Pasty-Face said.
“Your family is getting its last chance
now.”

A COLD sweat. gripped. Arthur Fried.
The gag was shoved into his mouth
and the tape applied. :

In the living-room, the Rat asked in a
low voice. “Are you going to phone Hugo
now?”

“Do I look nuts?” Pasty-Face count-
ered. “With all those G-men around it’ll
be dynamite. We got to do something
though.” He pursed his lips in thought.
After a moment Bs muttered, “We’re

onna knock him off. :

. It was too dangerous to kill Fried at
that spot. A place had to be found that
was far enough away so that it would
not cast suspicion on his hide-away. It
had to be done in such a manner that the
victim would never suspect their purpose.
If he knew he were going to die anyway
he would doubtless put up a determined
fight. : .

Fried, although worried to the point of
nervous exhaustion about his own safety,
was no coward. Stronger men have been
known to crack under similar strain. With
each succeeding day the chances for his
release from the hands of this cold, ruth-
less mob of kidnapers became more slim.
When the tape had been removed from
his eyes the day before—he had pleaded
that it hurt them—he had caught a quick
glimpse of the leader’s face. He saw the
dead white, expressionless features, the
pale slash of a mouth and a pair of dark
shining eyes in whose depths he read utter
cruelty. This glimpse had signed his death
warrant. The phlegmatic guard had been
standing behind him at that moment so
he could not see him, nor had he viewed
the leader’s confederate. ;

Now he was terror-stricken and believed
he was going to be killed.

Still conversing in whispers in the poor-
ly furnished living-room, Pasty-Face and
the Rat added the finishing touches to
their murderous scheme. Fried was to be
lured to the murder spot by being told
that the ransom had been paid and that
he was being taken to a place, the loca-
tion of which had been made known to
his brother Hugo. Pee

“Where are we going to get rid of him?”
the Rat asked. b ; .

“T. got it all figured out; in the cellar
of your father’s place.” :

The Rat’s beady eyes. squinted. “We
can’t do that. There’s always |a crowd
there.” ;

“T know it,” Pasty-Face said flatly.
“That’s why I picked it.” :

“Sounds screwy to me.” The Rat was
dubious, ; ‘

“Not when you hear the rést of it.”

Pasty-Face walked across the room,
opened the bedroom door, “We decided to

102

settle for less money,” he called glibly.
'“P'm going out to contact Hugo, and if we
get the dough you’ll be a free man to-
night.”

Out in the street the Rat slipped behind
the wheel of a car parked in front of the
hide-away and Pusty-Face climbed in be-
side him. They drove East to Second
Avenue and thence southward to East

Seventh Street. Since Sixth Street is a-

one way thoroughfare with traffic running
from west to east, they were forced to
circle the block in order to pull up in
front of number 219. It was a narrow
building erected with concrete blocks. The
sign over the doorway read Ukrainian
Hall. The street itself was noisy and
littered with debris. There were rows of
tenement houses, business concerns and a
theater all crowded together.

The kidnapers entered the Hall together,
walked through a rough-hewn door and
down a crooked stairway into a dark,
poorly ventilated basement. They passed
through a second doorway into the furnace
room. This small room was filled with
trash. The asbestos sides of the huge
Monarch coal furnace were cracked and
peeling. On top of the burner lay dusty
ash-barrel covers while along the walls, all
covered with a deep layer of soot, were
such assorted items as rakes, shovels,
mops, empty beer barrels, ash barrels, gar-
den hose, empty whisky cartons, ladders
and clothes hangers. Pasty-Face closed
the door carefully behind him, snapped
on the ceiling light and surveyed the
place.

“Just as I thought,” he said finally.

_“Tt’s perfect.”

“T ain’t so sure about that.” This was
bringing the murder too close to the
building that everyone knew the Rat fre-
quented, and he didn’t like the idea.

“What don’t you like about it?”

“Tt’s all right as far as privacy is con-
cerned,” the Rat answered. “We can get
the monkey in, especially as he’s coming
on his own two legs and we can give ’im
the business down here without any fuss,
but you’re forgetting that he’s gotta be
carried out. That’s where we run the risk
of being spotted.”

“FT\HE monkey doesn’t Jeave here,”
Pasty-Face said.

“What’s that?” the Rat asked in sur-
prise.

“I said the monkey doesn’t leave here,”
Pasty-Face repeated in a flat, even tone.
He burst open the furnace door, a blast
of heat shot out. “The, monkey goes in
there.” His finger pointed to the roaring
interno within.

Working rapidly behind the scenes, the
G-men strove desperately to get a line
on the kidnapers. They knew with
each succeeding day that Arthur Fried
was in their hands his chances for release
were that much less. The amazingly
successful kidnap squad organized by Di-
rector J. Edgar Hoover as a’ permanent
unit of the FBI had already installed
“taps” on the telephone wires of every
member of the Fried family, They heard
requests for ransom. being made by new
voices. Since in every kidnap case there
is always a certain pathological type of
criminal who attempts to‘make capital out
of the misery of the victim’s family they
couldn’t be: certain whether these new
negotiators were part of the mob that
held Fried captive or whether they were
impostors.

Concern over the safety of the victim
forced the agents of the FBI to restrict
those activities, which might make their
presence known to the kidnapers.

It. was shortly after eight o’clock that
night that the two mobsters returned to

the hide-away. Arthur Fried sat motion-'

Me Tifa o tees atig ie te edb! eon rected | ty 7 cs ae {

less as he heard the door close behind
them. For four days he had been under the
greatest possible tension, He never knew
from minute to minute whether that
would be his last on earth. This moment
he knew would be the climax. For in it
fi would learn whether he was to live or
ie.

Pasty-Face entered the bedroom jbreez-
ily. “Take the tape off his eyes and untie
him.”

The guard hastened to obey.

Fried just sat there, too weak to move.

“I’ve got good news for you, Arthur,”
Pasty-Face said.

Fried’s eyes blinked blearily. “You
mean—” he began.

“That’s right. We’re letting you go.
Your brother is coming through with the
dough.”

It was moments before the full import
of these words penetrated the victim’s con-
sciousness. He jumped to his feet, but
weakened from having sat so long in a
cramped position, he collapsed to the
floor.

The victim got up on his hands and
knees. He cried and Jaughed in turn. “I
told you you'd get the money,” he said
happily. “You didn’t have to do any-
thing to me.”

“47 OU were okay,” the Rat said. “In a

little while it’ll all be over.” The
horrible irony in these heartless words was
lost on Fried.

“You fellows won’t regret it,” he said
with sincerity.

“You’re to forget everything you saw
or heard while you were here,” Pasty-
Face said warningly.

“You have my word of honor that I
won’t say a word about it.”

“Sure, we know you’re a nice guy,”
the kidnaper spoke in a mollifying tone.
“Now we're all going downtown to meet
your brother who’s coming with the ran-
som money. If you make one wrong
move I’ll blow you to bits.”

His instructions to Fried were simple.
The guard was to leave the hide-away
flat first. His return in five minutes
would signify that the coast was clear.
Then all four would leave together. A car
was to be parked in front of the build-
ing. The Rat was to get behind the wheel
while the victim wedged into the front
seat between him and the leader. The
guard would sit in the back. At all times
that he was in the street Fricd was
to act as though he were a friend of
these men. He was to do this by chat-
ting in a natural manner.

As soon as he regained the use of his
legs Fried put on his hat and overcoat.
A small strip of adhesive tape was pasted
lengthwise over his eyes and a pair of
dark sun glasses were slipped on him
to disguise it. This was done, not to
keep secret the location of the kidnapers’
apartment, but to avoid arousing sus-
picions in the mind of the victim by
throwing overboard all the normal cau-
tions taken by kidnapers.

The preliminary preparations com-
pleted, the mobsters led their victim to the
waiting car, drove off and in a few min-
utes were parked in front of the Ukrainian
Hall. Fried heard the sound of voices
in the street.

“Is my brother there?” he asked anx-
iously.

“He’s waiting inside this building,”
Pasty-face said smoothly. “Now remem-
ber, act natural.” ,

The moment Fried’s foot touched the
pavement the muscles in his throat con-
tracted. He couldn’t think of a word
to say.

Pasty-face bore the brunt of the con-
versation. “That was a swell dance we

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

vw

went to last ni

Fried walke:
through a narr:
ing along a wo

“If we only
ways.”

Fried was °
wooden stairca
he knew he \
nervous now.
freedom. Wh:
Where was his

“My brothe

“He'll be her
said crisply.
ness-like.

They were s:
room which c
room through
walked throug
It was empty.
nace door, shu

“Jerry!” he

The guard h:
he slipped out

D

Policeman }
had been on th:
and was one c
station. Office: |
office of Supery
Both were fine

And now, acc
hospital, both v |
death. |

Ferguson, toc
community cou
tation for indue
for those
Even on
had been
needy boys. A

“Any idea w!
asked.

Detective Au
got away clea
license numbers
no fingerprints «
saloon, because

The next fev
The bartender,
were taken to
looked over rog
criminals with 1

Comprehensiv
from all witnes:
and Miss Klaul
at the hospital.
selves together
the terrifying e\

As a result, v
accurate deseriy
squads were wai
for them and th:
much as we cou
little to cause a

‘might soon be

And then—at a t
almost hopeless—
Dr. Hirschfeld! |
To the apart: :
had_ been per:
James Dyer and
car. The docto’
stairs and they
told them. mea
harrowing exper
the second gun.
blonde, the Pek~
when the trio fi
tails. The offic:
the doctor’s pati
must have been :
From the first

DECEMBER, 1938


GLLO (1/792

GULA and SACODA, QH&sM ELEC. NYSP !INew York) JANUARY <b+—+H+<65—

x

The body of one kidnap victim was

conitted ecihls ntascg _. by CHARLES E, CALKINS

as now
e thgatre at}

ad the local White
hem how they had
ribing his autonp
more hours pass@d, 4
‘ey of fharrawing suspense forfa all §
strolléd to Beveral times Jing a0" Mbeancre “Ss, age them.W Then the phone rang.
to, Danigls’ ca Was no sign Of if i} ure / ame It was the police. An officer stateg that4
d Lightly's as they dro to ive distyuy } oD; Neg: Fried’s coupe had been found par ed a
home where they were to.stop Ore Matsa a roadhouse, the Rosedale Gardens, ae
Be this whirl of eaysty Arthur had stop as Oj Bae * mile and a half away. There was no sigit
hat tragedy soon Es the food remained unfow As tiny .of Friedy
{Dagsed, Mrs, Fried becam e Daniels conveyed the police report to
stion of Arthur, they ;, med and the Daniels ye uneasy. * the two women andthen suggested tha
ied neem! me where wa s; only. six: blo font the Fried © they go to the UF ried.

ae iL e cof
larked F ied, idg@ght suppe

%

Ho

cas

a

— Li


Arthur Fried, right, White Plains, N. Y., contractor, was kidnaped from in
front of his home and held ‘captive in Ukrainian Hall, shown above.

i .

}
H

@ tether word of theif
PAt 3:50 a. m., the
Daniels answered ites
A gruff voice spoke
preliminaries. - . a
Don’t worry about ArtHur,’
e& said, “He’s drunk in the Bro Ly thi
es be alright.” ¥ vestigation. & i ° 71s et in New York city.
% Befdre Mrs. Daniels could answe hur if an y ~=—s the with G-mefi. There they't
ithere was a sharp click in her ear. She’ ; *

 the'phone with another fecord h;
turned and told what she’d heard. ‘Wag Che G-men we jobinah hey weren't kept wditing 1
“Drunk!” exclaithed Arthur’s wife. “he of y link they had with the kidnapets Monday, the kidnaper calléd again. go
“Why, that can’t be true, I don’t be- was the teléphone. They immediately was told to go to — grill in West |

lieve it.” ae connected..ffeup with a voice recordin 69thistreet and aster
pe ae ; al i ph

ined a gar: ei

‘


close behind
een under the
’ never knew
vhether that
This moment
ax. For in it
vas to live or

lroom breez-
yes and untie

y.
oak to move.
‘ou, Arthur,”

arily. “You

ing you go.
igh with the

' full import
vielim’s con-
us feet, but
o long in a
sed to the

: hands and
1 in turn. “I
ay,” he said
to do any-

said. “In a
over.” The
3s words was

it,” he said

1g you saw
ore,” Pasty-

mor that I

guy,”

g tone.

>. meet

th the ran-
one wrong

‘ere simple.
hide-away
ve minutes
was clear.
ther. A car
the build-
1 the wheel
» the front
ider. The
\t all times
Fried was
friend of
is by chat-

use of his
1 overcoat.
was pasted
a pair of
d on him
ie, not to
kidnapers’
using sus-
victim by
ormal cau-

ons com-
stim to the
few min-
Ukrainian

2 of voices

isked anx-

building,”
Ww remem-

uched the
1roat con-
f a word

’ the con-
dance we

CERIES

went to last night,” he said.

Fried walked up a step and crowded
through a narrow doorway. He was walk-
ing along a wooden board now.

“If we only had such good times al-
Ways.”

Fried was walking down a winding,
wooden staircase. From the musty smell
he knew he was in a cellar. He was
nervous now. They had promised him his
freedom. Why didn’t they ‘let him go?
Where was his brother?

“My brother—you said he’d be here.”

“He'll be here in a minute,” Pasty-Face
said crisply. His manner became busi-
ness-like.

They were standing in an unused store-
room which connected with the furnace
room through a doorway. The leader
walked through it, surveyed the place.
It was empty. He yanked open the fur-
nace door, shut it’ again,

“Jerry!” he called.

The guard had lost his lethargy. Swiftly
he slipped out of the place, took up his

Double Murder at Eastwood Inn

(Continued from page 27)

Policeman McIntyre, aged forty-four,
had been on the force nearly twenty years,
and was one of my men at the Damen
station. Officer Kelly was assigned to the
office of Supervising Captain Richard Gill,
Both were fine, conscientious officers.

And now, according to reports from the
hospital, both were in imminent danger of
death,

Ferguson, too, was a man of whom his
community could well be proud. His repu-
tation for industry, honesty and sympathy
for those needing help was unquestioned,
Even on the night before his murder he
had been raising funds to help educate
needy boys. And now he was dead.

“Any idea who the killers may be?” I
asked.

Detective Auw shook his head. “They
got away clean. We haven’t even the
license numbers of their car. There were
no fingerprints on their beer glasses in the
saloon, because they wore gloves.”

The next few hours were busy ones.
The bartender, Bonin, and other witnesses
were taken to my station, where they
looked over rogues’ gallery photographs of
criminals with records for gun-toting.

Comprehensive statements were taken
from all witnesses. Even Mrs. McIntyre
and Miss Klauk, near collapse from grief
at the hospital, managed to pull them-
selves together long enough to describe
the terrifying events.

As a result, we were able to broadcast
accurate descriptions of the killers. All
squads were warned to be on the lookout
for them and their tan auto. That was as
much as we could do; and it was far too
little to cause any optimism, The killers
might soon be hundreds of miles away.
And then—at a time when the case seemed
almost hopeless—came the phone call from
Dr. Hirschfeld!

To the apartment where the operation
had been performed raced Sergeants
James Dyer and Frank Jensen in a squad
car, The doctor accompanied them up-
stairs and they searched the rooms. He
told them, meanwhile, the story of his
harrowing experience—the wounded man,
the second gunman, the Operation, the
blonde, the Pekingese she took with her
when the trio fled, and all the other de-
tails. The officers realized at once that
the doctor’s patient, from his description,
must have been one of the tavern bandits.

From the first seareh of the apartment,

DECEMBER, 1939

post as lookout man at the head of the
steps.

Fried stood uncertainly in the center
of the floor. His coat was wrinkled and
dusty, his face dirty and unshaven, his
eyes bloodshot, his body racked with the
pain of unutterable weariness. This was
to be the end of his agony; they were
setting him free! Hugo was coming with
the money.

The instant the guard had left the store-
room, the Rat slipped a .35 caliber re-
volver from ‘his coat pocket. The trigger
was cocked. He stepped up behind Arthur
Fried, held the muzzle an inch away from
his temple. Pasty-Face stood in the door-
way. He nodded his head.

Don’t miss next month’s thrilling in-
stallment in which the disposition of
Arthur Fried is revealed. Also, inside
details of the new campaign of terrorism
launched by the ruthless kidnap combine
as they strike right and left in their
mad lust for wealth. On all news stands
December 6th.

it appeared the two men had done a com-
plete job of taking away all evidence that
might lead to their identity. There was
not even an article of clothing with a
clothier’s trademark that might be traced,

yer was pawing through a wastebasket
filled with day-old newspapers. Suddenly
he gave an exclamation of elation. “Here's
something!” he said, “A laundry list that
shows some guy named Riley had six
shirts washed.”

They scanned the slip closely and saw
that the owner of the shirts had lived in
the Lakeview Apartment Hotel at 739
West Belmont Avenue.

At this point fingerprint experts and
other officers arrived, and the two ser-
geants hurried to the address given on the
laundry slip, stopping off en route to tele-
phone me of the developments, Dr.
Hirschfeld started for my station to make
a formal report.

T was 6:45 a.m. when the sergeants ar-

rived at the Lakeview, A desk clerk on
duty in the lobby greeted them. “Does
a man named Riley live here?” Sergeant
Jensen asked, ;

The clerk shook his head. “Mr, Riley

“Has he any friends in the hotel?”

“Not now, but he was friendly with a
Mr. and Mrs. W ilson, who lived here until
& month ago. They moved away, but they
came back often to visit him.”

The clerk gave a description which left
no doubt but that Wilson was the woun-
ded man Dr. Hirschfeld had_ operated
upon, and that his “wife” was the blonde
with the outlaws. Watson long had used
the name of Wilson, but the officers had
no way of knowing his true name as yet,
He had, in fact, been known as “Wilson”
to many fellow prisoners in the Jackson
prison, ;

Riley, no doubt, had come to the hotel,
packed his things, and checked out during
his absence from the Belle Plaine Avenue
Apartment, while the wounded Watson—-
alias “Wilson”—had held the gun on Dr.
Hirschfeld.

“Did Riley make ‘any telephone calls
from his room?” Jensen asked.

“Sure, he made a lot of calls. There’s a

list wt the desk downstairs of the numbers

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103


sa aiieiaceaatiaiaa

och Wie

a. In it ne

ous for your

iat you keep

»stionable re-

iy. It is my
touch not,
intoxicating

out of prison
drop of any
sell liquor or

ver married,”

replied. ‘In
: stranded on
every minute
am too old
woman would
and out of a

of that night
her and sister

e said, “Fate
r in that way,
in me to rail
imagine how I
alk about it?
out me please
m to the good
I have always
o live, so that
y my freedom
gret what they

any feeling of
» who had put

it speaking.

+ of smile

expression,
was raracteristic
1 a look in the
ve known who
. It must come
ion while shut

» from brooding
n done me?” he
ruin my whole
arbor hate and
heart that would
mn’t aim to have
soul. I put that
ultivate a cheer-
world. That 1s
never gone back
neighborhood. I
sit the graves of
Watta, but if I
meet some one
cainst me; they
o insult me and
d feelings. So, I

a job,” he con-
sixty-nine has a
stition with the
1 who are out of
.n old-age pension:
as, but I hate to
independent and

a minute to take
yee. “If the State
million dollars it
ie torture of those
ajustly, in prison.”
me. “I hope this
» world the great
done to me, that
iother, sister and
have been brutal
fered them. Also
earnestly I have
if as a respectable
ce T was pardoned
ars ago.”

OTIVE MYSTERIES

Kidnap Combine and the Flaming Tomb

(Continued from page 29)

pened,” he said. “I didn’t want to say
so to him, but ‘he’s lucky to be alive.
I wouldn’t have given a plugged nickel for
his chances.”

x ok *

Federal agents meanwhile were running
down the lead of the 7N license plates
seen by the high school student who had
witnessed the Fried kidnaping. Since the
crime of abduction is rare, they felt that
there was a good chance that the kidnap-
ers of Peter Levine and Arthur Fried be-
longed to one and the same mob. From
the method and result in the Fried case
they guessed that fresh crimes would be
likely to follow. If so, they hoped that
these would help to uncover the cold
trail. Their reasoning was correct but
it was proving futile since they received
no report on these crimes. And the kid-
nap gang, flushed with success, was just
warming into action!

Ox Saturday, July 23rd, 1938, they
struck again. Norman Miller, a tall,
dark, pleasant-faced youth of nineteen and
the only son of wealthy parents, was at
home on this night while his parents drove
out to Freeport, Long Island, to visit rela-
tives. Feeling lonely, he telephoned his
friend, Sidney Lehrer. and together they
went to the Kingsway Theatre on the
corner of Coney Island Avenue and Quen-
tin Road in Brooklyn. They came out of
the movie house shortly before midnight.
A light rain had begun to fall and the
streets glistened darkly in the reflected
light of the theatre. Despite the lateness
of the hour, Coney Island Avenue was still
crowded with cars returning from the
famous shore resort.

Norman climbed behind the wheel of
his car and started the motor. His friend
sat beside him. Carefully he piloted it
onto Coney Island Avenue, then halted
for a red light.

Pasty-Face, who stood in the shadows
of a building on the corner, walked swiftly
to the halted~car, jumped’ on the running-
board and stuck his -head through the
partly opened window.

“Are you Norman Miller?” he asked
sharply. \

The driver’s head moved back in sur-
prise. “Yes,” he replied.

“You have been involved in a hit-
and-run accident and it will be necessary
for you to accompany mev’

This information came so suddenly
Norman had little time to figure any pos-
sible meaning behind the words. All he
knew was that he had never been in-
volved in any such accident.

“When did this accident happen?”

The traffic light turned green while
Pasty-Face replied, “Two hours ago over
on Ocean Parkway.”

The north-south streams of traffie began
moving: Norman knew that the man
with the dead-white face was mistaken—
or lying—because at that very hour he
had been seated. in the motion picture
theatre. A second man—the Rat—walked
up to the other side of the car and stepped
on the running-board. Norman ‘now was
positive that something was wrong. Swiftly
he put the car in gear and shot it forward.
He caught Pasty-Face by surprise and he
reeled off the running-board and fell face
forward on the pavement. The Rat kept
his grip with one hand, jerked an auto-
matic out of his pocket with the other
and jammed it hard against Norman’s
chest.

“Stop this bus or I’ll blow you to bits,”
he gritted.

FEBRUARY, 1940

Norman saw the gun and pulled over
to the curb. He looked wildly about him.
There were scores of people on the side-
walks and heavy traffic rolled by. Though
it was a well-lighted street nobody noticed
what was taking place.

Pasty-Face picked himself up from the
street and walked toward the halted car.
A squat, swarthy individual joined him
and they climbed into the back seat. The
Rat forced Lehrer to get in with them
and then took the seat beside Norman.

From the back, Pasty-Face ordered,
“Get moving!”

The youth drove on, making turns as
he was directed. Pasty-Face warned him
to keep his eyes straight forward while
Lehrer was forced to hold a handkerchief
over his eyes. Norman stopped at thé cor-
ner of 17th Street and. Avenue R for a
minute and then was told to continue. In

the mirror he could see a gray coupé fol- '

lowing. He brought his car to a halt once
more on 22nd Street between Avenue O
and Avenue N, a quiet, residential street.
His hope for outside aid now waned. The
man who sat behind him tore strips from

‘ a roll of adhesive tape and plastered: them
cross-wise over his eyes. A pair of Palm
Beach sun glasses were slipped on over
this to cover the telltale patches.

One of the kidnapers in the rear seat did °

the same to Lehrer and both were led to
the coupé which had pulled up behind
them. In this they rode for a short while
and the driver snapped on the radio
switch, played with the dials as he drove.
Miller, a swing enthusiast, heard the in-
troductory strains of a popular song played
by Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra, then
% woman singer took up the vocal:

A-tisket, a-tasket,

A brown and yellow basket,
I sent a letter to my mommie
And on the way I dropped it,
I dropped it, I dropped it.

(Used by permission 7. copyright owners. Robbins
Music Corporation.)

f he kidnaper didn’t appreciate this and
snapped off the radio, but he had al-
ready made a fatal mistake. Just what
that mistake was will be disclosed later.

Finally they stopped in front of what
was evidently the hide-out. The man
who had first spoken to the youth said, “I
have a ‘piece,’ who has the other one?”

A voice spoke up, “IT have it.”

Miller judged that they were speaking
of guns. He was hustled into a building,
walked five steps and was guided to the
right. He heard the sound of pool balls
clicking together. He walked about forty
feet along a wooden floor, then into a dark
hall, through a doorway into a narrow
room.

With the intended victim safely in the
hideout, two of the kidnapers drove
Lehrer away. Three times they stopped
while they telephoned the Miller home,
only to be told by the maid that’ their
victim’s parents had not yet returned:

Tt was at 2:10 a. M. that the Rat finally
got Mrs. Miller on the telephone. “Is
Mr. Miller home?” he asked.

“Who is this?”

“This is Mr. Smith.”

“What do you want with Mr. Miller?”
Norman’s mother asked.

“Tt’s personal.”

“This is Mrs. Miller,” she said.

“T know.”

“Anything personal that Mr. Miller can
know, I can’ know,” she said with a trace

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and executed this crime with crafty fore-
sight as to- possible eventualities if de-
tectives ever got on their trail.

In spite of this the agents had secured
four:leads and with these slim threads they
set out to solve the case: The kidnap
car was a gray, club coupé—make, year,
style and other possible identification
marks unknown; a nursery rhyme played
in swingtime; the click of pool balls; and
a church bell which tolled thirty-six times
on Sunday morning.

Be NING with the first lead, Special
Agents who checked with automobile

dealers, learned that only five makes of.

cars answered the: vague description of the
interior of the kidnap auto. Norman, who
was blindfolded when he entered it, de-
pended for his description on his sense
of touch. The five cars wére Oldsmobile,
Buick, LaSalle, Cadillac and Packard. In
turn the youth was taken to the sales-
rooms of each of the five motor car con-
cerns. Keeping the purpose of these visits
a careful secret, they left an amazed sales-
man in each place who wondered at the
idiosyncracies of these prospective custom-
ers. Disregarding such vital informa-
tion as motor and fuel consumption, they
were apparently trying to make their se-
lection wholly on the whim of a youth
who would close his eyes, climb into the
rear seat and feel with his right hand the
various gadgets on the car’s interior. On
their fifth and last attempt—it occurred
in a Packard iulsersoran dtenmnat stepped
down from the car, a grin of triumph on
his face.

“This is it,” he stated definitely.

As this car is made in both a six-and

International

understand a word that was said. This
brought into the picture two Postal In-
spection Service employees named Her-
bert Bennin and Jacob Gradus, who un-
derstood Yiddish.

The supposition about that first call
was that some one else in the stolen bond
picture had called Kemplar to find out
how the garage man was progressing with
his part in the crime. The phone over
which the call had been put through was
traced, but to no avail. It was a pay sta-
tion in Brooklyn, which any one might
have used, and when Hoffman’s men ar-
rived to check the call, no one remem-
bered having seen the man with the Yid-
dish accent. .

Informer Wolfner returned the bond to
Kemplar—after Inspector Hoffman had
taken a photostat of the security—and
told the garage proprietor that he was in-
terested in purchasing as many of the
securities as he could get.

‘Up to how much, say?” asked Kemp-
lar.

“A hundred grand, anyway,” replied the
stool, “although I don’t suppose you
would be in a deal running that high.”

Kemplar; stung by this reflection on
the scope of his activity, shot back, “Oh,
no? Listen, there’s a little over a hun-
dred and thirty grand of this stuff that
I’m authorized to sell!”

Wolfner pressed for more information
as to where the garage man was getting

the stolen securities, but Kemplar was’

smart there. He just wasn’t saying. So
Wolfner got hard to deal with, too. “I’ve
got to know more about who’s selling this
stuff,” he said. “I can take a chance on
you, but I don’t want to get mixed up
with somebody who’s going to do some-
thing foolish and get me in with the bulls

116

’

eight-cylinder model, both of which look
alike, one of the Special Agents who ac-
companied him had the salesman start up
both motors while Norman listened in-
tently. In the end he decided that the
six-cylinder car most closely resembled
the sound made by the motor of the
gray coupé.

Since this investigation was completed
quickly, these facts reached Director J.
Edgar Hoover’s desk in his office in the
Department of Justice Building in Wash-
ington on the same day as the report of
the crime. At his fingertips were the case
histories of all other kidnapings—a crime
incidentally which Hoover had practically
eliminated in the United States—163 kid-
napings solved out of 165. It is an axiom
in criminal psychology that when an illegal
act is committed successfully, the felon
will employ much the same method in all
of his subsequent unlawful enterprises. The
similarity in the technique used by the
Miller kidnapers was too close to that in
the Fried case to be mere coincidence.
Both were street snatches, the victims were
of the same type,. the ransom notes had
been written only -by the victims, all fur-
ther negotiations were carried on by tele-
phone, and the same means had been used
to maintain contact. ;

In the Fried case the mob used a car.
whose license plates began with 7N. This
lead was so vague as to be almost useless,
Now they had an additional check. The
suspect who had 7N plates in 1937 owned
a Packard club coupé in 1938.

It appeared likely that the “finger” in‘
the snatch knew about Miller’s $1,000 bet
on that particular day at the race track.
This led to the inference that members

(Continued from page 19)

again.”

Kemplar told Wolfner not to worry.
“Maybe I can arrange for you to meet
somebody else,” he stated.

The stool left, and, not long afterward,
a call came through. One of the Yiddish
experts, listening in down the street in
the music company’s back room, was told
by another of the listeners that this call
was apparently from the same man who
had made the previous one.

“Hello,” came the voice, using English,
“is the fat guy there?”

“Hold the wire.”

After a pause, a second voice said,
“This is Mike. Who’s this?”

“No. One. What do you find out?”

“Benny got the sample back. He tells
me that party’s interested.”

“Okay. Now get some action,” the
caller instructed. “My wife’s very sick,
and I want to get this deal cleaned up
and get her away on a trip. I need
dough,”

That’s all there was to the conversa-
tion. No Yiddish was used, now that
men who understood it were ready to
translate it. This time the caller—No.
One—was traced to a drug store in
Brooklyn. Detectives arriving there
shortly after the call had been made were
unable to learn the man’s identity, and
those in the store did not know him.

The sleuths, however, obtained from an
onlooker in the drug store, a good de-
scription of the mysterious No. One. He
was under medium height, on the heavy
side, dark and about fifty years of age.
At least that was something. If he were
the chief plotter in the bond job—and it
looked from his self-given appellation as
though he were—it was more than likely
that he was an individual who was not a

‘

of the kidnap mob must also have been
patrons at the track.

Mr. Hoover issued orders that, Special
Agents cover every race track in the East.
Here they were to check on the owner-
ship of every Packard answering that de-
scription. They were also to check back
and see if the owners of these cars had
last year’s plates which began with 7N.
Although this was not conclusive proof of
the man’s guilt, it was a good starting
point.

These leads were all based on infer-
ences which Director Hoover, out of his
vast knowledge of the operation of the
criminal mind, felt to be correct. In the
final analysis, however, they were still only
inferences, which, if they didn’t pan out,
would leave the FBI as much in the dark
as ever. ,

But there were three basic facts on
which he could work—had to work—if
he were to solve the case. These were:
the swingtime version of “A-tisket, a-
tasket,” thirty-six tolls of a church bell
and the click of pool balls. If a meta-
phor might be drawn, he had to re-arrange
this discordant music into a death house
march for the killer-kidnap mob. If he
failed, the crimes of this gang of vicious
killers were bound to continue.

‘ Next month the final instalment of this
thrilling serial tells how J. Edgar Hoover's
Special Agents, steadily following up the
many conflicting threads of evidence,
finally close in on the infamous kidnap
combine. Don’t miss it—in the March
issue, on sale at all news stands February
2nd.

Riddle of the Vanishing Bonds

stranger to the police. Detectives were
assigned to the tedious task of looking
through the vast records at New York
Headquarters in an effort to find a photo-
graph and description that fitted the
nebulous suspect.

_In the meantime, detectives had sta-
tioned themselves on Fiftieth Street, near
the garage, waiting for the appearance of
“the fat guy.” Such a man—he weighed
about 250 pounds and had a moonish face
——came out on foot in less than an hour.
He: proceeded by subway to 354 South
Second Street, Brooklyn.

Cees inquiries around the neigh-
borhood disclosed that the corpulent
gentleman was Michael Eisenstein, more
popularly known as “Fats.” He had, for a

number of years, been in the bail-bond ~

business, but at the moment was osten-
sibly devoting his talents to real estate.

At Headquarters, it appeared that
Eisenstein had no criminal record, nor
had he ever been so much as suspected of
anything illegal—all of which was some-
what confusing. Kemplar, the garage
man, didn’t have a criminal record, either,
yet both he and Fats seemed to be deep
In this stolen-bond job. It wasn’t the rule
that a stolen-bond mob would take into
& proposition those who hadn’t had ex-
perience along such lines before.

The mysterious No. One, the man with
the Yiddish accent, phoned the garage
again.. He talked with Kemplar, Again
he urged action on “that proposition,”
saying that he wanted to get away on va-
cation with his wife.

Once more the call was traced, but too
late to find the caller. Once more, too,
the call had been made from a public
telephone, about three blocks from where

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES

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FEBRUARY,


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“No, this is too personal.”

The boy’s father who was in the room
while this conversation was going on, took
the phone from his wife. “This is Mr.
Miller speaking,” he said. “What’s on your
mind?”

“Your son Norman is being held for
ransom. He is held for a hundred.” There
was a trace of excitement in the Rat’s
voice. He made no effort to disguise it.
“A hundred,” he repeated. “You know
what we mean—one hundred thousand dol-
lars. Wait for a call. He had a boy friend
with him who will be over and tell you
what to do.” The Rat hung up hastily,
rushed back into his car and sped off
before the call could be traced to that
store.

On the corner of Farragut Road and
Flatbush Avenue, he handed Lehrer a
dollar bill and told. him to take a taxi
and head back for Miller’s home imme-
diately. “Because if you don’t, you'll

never see him again—at least not alive.”

ORMAN'’S parents led almost frantic
with grief when Sidney Lehrer burst
breathlessly into the Miller home ten min-
utes later. In tense phrases he told the
story of what had happened. Any doubt
he might have entertained as to whether
the call might have been a hoax was swept
from the father’s mind. Ordinarily a bluff,
hearty man, he had amassed a comfortable
fortune as the owner of a stevedore con-
cern. A sportsman at heart, his wealth
permitted him to indulge in his.taste for
betting on all sorts of sporting encounters.
On this very afternoon at the Empire
Track he had placed a wager of a thousand
dollars on a horse through Max Kalik, the
well-known bookmaker. His horse won
by a nose and paid four to one. Kalik
rer handed him five one-thousand-dollar
ills,

Now that he knew the worst, Miller’s
mind was free to concentrate on the single
task of getting his son back alive.

Thus when the kidnapers phoned him
again, he had a plan arranged. “A hun-
dred thousand dollars is out of the ques-
tion,” he spoke swiftly. “I can’t raise. that
kind of money.” ;

“You'll have to do it if you want your
boy back,” said the other bluntly.

“Tl raise all I can.”

Who do you want to deal for you?”
the kidnaper asked.

Miller had anticipated this question.

“Stitch’ McCarthy,” he replied.

Stitch, whose real name is Isadore
Kleinberg, knows his way about town.

“He’s okay, with us,” the other re-
sponded. “And get this straight, if you're
a wise guy,and do anything about these
telephone calls, maybe you'll get me, but
you'll never be able to get your son.”

Miller called Kleinberg ‘at his apart-
ment in the Second Avenue Baths, and
at four-thirty a. m. he was at the house.
Since they had so readily agreed upon
him as the intermediary, Stitch had a no-
tion that the kidnapers were known to
him.

Thus when the phone rang a few min-
utes later, he listened intently to the
voice whose only attempt at disguise was
an obvious effort to make it sound tougher
than it actually was.

“Let me talk to Mr. Miller,” said the
caller.

“This is ‘Stitch’ McCarthy.”

“Okay, tell Miller to get that hundred
grand and lay it on the line.”

“You’ve got him all wrong,” Stitch
argued. Although he searched his mem-
ory as he spoke, he couldn’t recall the
voice. “He doesn’t have that kind of
dough nor half of it either.”

“Don’t give me any of that. The guy
who put the finger on Norman Miller told

114

me he’s got plenty.”

At that instant there occurred one of
those incredible coincidences which, if it
were not carefully documented in the
files of the BI might be taken as fiction.
There was a series of brief clicks on the

line and a voice cut in, saying, “Police’

Department,” Whereupon the kidnaper
ponueqia teks hung up. Stitch jiggled the
ook,

“Operator,” he called. “Operator.”
When he had secured her attention, he
said. “You cut in on a busy line.”

“I am sorry,” she said. “Your party is
no longer on the line,”

The intermediary hung up, his face
white,

“Did you send for the police?” he asked
Miller,

“T did not.”

Although actually the police had not
been notified, what had just occurred could
leave only the impression in the minds of
the ‘kidnapers that they had. The Rat,
for it was he who handled the negotiations
for the snatchers, had warned the vic-

'tim’s father that. this would mean_ in-

stant death for Norman.

Time seemed interminable and the early
morning hours dragged by on leaden feet
for Miller. Would this telephone _inci-
dent doom his son? Since the kidnapers
already believed the worst, why shouldn’t
he call in the police and at least receive
their aid. In Sicko he could reach a
quick decision on -deals involving huge
sums, but now his mind wavered between
the two possible courses of action. Tor
the price involved was the life of his
son,

At nine-thirty that morning the tele-
Phone rang and Stitch who answered it
sighed with relief when he recognized the
kidnaper’s voice,

“T told you what would happen if you
called in the cops,” the man said angrily.

“I give you my word of honor we did
not notify the police.” .

“How about that telephone call last
night?”

“Tt was all a mistake,” Stitch said per-
suasively. He went on to explain what
had happened and told them that it would
be better if they didn’t call the Miller
home any more, but instead deal with
him at the Second Avenue Baths where
he lived.

ILLER and “Stitch” McCarthy im-

mediately left for the combination
Turkish bath and hotel located on Man-
hattan’s lower East Side. At noon they
received another call and were told to go
to the candy store at 148 Delancey Street.
In the public booth in the candy store
Stitch again spoke to the kidnaper.

“You have him all wrong,” he argued.
“All Mr. Miller has is $5000. He might
be able to borrow $7000 tops.”

They argued for a while and the man
at the other end became more and more
incensed. Finally he said, “I don’t want
to talk to you any more, Put Charlie
Miller on.” To the boy’s father, he said.
“We won’t take a cent less than $25,000.”

“You can kill my wife, you can kill me,
you can kill my son,” Miller said heatedly,
“but I can’t raise that $25,000.”

This argument seemed to impress the
kidnaper. “How much do you think you
can raise?”

“About $12,000 is all. although I'll try
my best to get more.”

“All right, I'll call you back tonight
and see how you made out.”

At eight o’clock that night Miller told
him that the most he could raise was
$13,000.

“Have you got that with you?”

“Ves ”

“You better make sure none of those

bills are marked.”

“Oh, they’re not,” Miller protested.

“Stitch”. McCarthy took over the re-
ceiver and was instructed to proceed to a
certain restaurant on East 23rd Street and
to wait there for a telephone call,

When this call came Stitch answered it
and was told to wrap the money neatly
in a newspaper, walk out of the restau-
rant and go to the southeast corner of
28rd Street and First Avenue. On this
corner in front of the gasoline station
stood a large trash barrel. Stitch was to
drop the money in, then return to 148
Delancey Street where he would receive
another call.

By this time Charles Miller’s taut nerves
had reached the breaking point. Stitch
placed him in a taxicab and urged him
to return to his home, saying that as soon
as he received good news he would tele-
phone. Then he walked to the corner
designated by the kidnapers for the
pay-off, .

Despite the lateness of the hour, it was
now past eleven o’clock on Sunday night,
heavy traffic still rolled southward along
First Avenue. The hot sun which had
beaten down on the city all day had been
absorbed in the steel and masonry of the
buildings and now was thrown off, giving
the air a sickly warmth. Stitch didn’t
wait for the traffic light to change. Dodg-
ing cars, he crossed the street, threw the
pookany containing the $13,000 into the

arrel, and retraced his steps to the res-
taurant, in front of which Charles Miller
had left his car. He climbed behind the
wheel and drove to the candy store where
at twelve o’clock he was told that he
would find Norman seated ‘on an ashcan
on Avenue D between 11th and 12th
Streets,

DPN G slowly to the indicated point,
Stitch found ‘the victim on the west
side of the deserted strect in the shadow
of #n old factory. Dutifully obeying the
kidnaper’s instructions, Norman had. not
removed the tape which they had plas-
tered over his. eyes,

The sudden joy Norman’s deliverance
brought to the Miller home beggars de-
scription. Rather than risk a repetition
of the near tragic’ occurrence the parents
decided to say nothing to the authorities
about it. The $13,000 seemed a small
price to pay for the safety of their son.

Thus a third snatch had been executed
by the kidnap gang.

_ week passed and Pasty-Face, accom-
panied by the Rat, Spent a gay evening
at the Riviera, one of the most preten-
tious night clubs in the East. Modelled
along the lines of a palatial liner the cab-
aret edges out over the New Jersey sum-
mit of the Palisades, affords a bird’s eye
view of the Hudson River far below and
the Manhattan skyline,

As they watched a prancing line of
beautiful chorus girls, Pasty-Face said,
“The guy who owns this place ought to be
worth plenty of jack.”

“Yeah,” the Rat responded. To him
this was an idle remark, not worthy of
distracting him from his avid interest in
the floor show.

“Ben Marden owns it, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we snatch him next,”

The Rat’s eyes blinked involuntarily.
»“We just finished one,” he said, Voicing
a mild protest.

“So what? Are you afraid of making
too much money?”

Although Charles Miller determined to
say nothing to the police, he happened to
mention the kidnaping to a close friend.
The latter inadvertently commented on
it to a friend of his. From there it went
to, still another friend. This friend noti-

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERI ES

FEBRUA!

GULA and 3A CODA

KIONAP COMBINE

has th.
rote ; i whate\
bs os MS : from t
; : i tion h
and the Flaming Tom By
ner a 4 to buil
ne i olice
By MICHAEL STERN ao
y A: ag ell
° . a ory Now
Special Investigator for TRUE DETECTIVE a cial A;
hoes : race tr |
: j ; | of Pac! |
ae ,) Success: |
The Story Thus Far: ie tty ot
the ma
N December 4th, 1937, Arthur Fried, | ent
New York businessman, is snatched _ ‘ha A
by kidnapers, and while ransom terms her
are being discussed, the mob, afraid of | “acco
discovery, shoot their victim and cre- rag
mate his body in the furnace of the | at ch
Ukrainian Hall on Manhattan’s lower @ Mill, 2
East Side. On April 18th, 1939, they  >*! ne ! |
kidnap Benjamin Farber, a Brooklyn . 8 st i
coal merchant. Narrowly escaping the | Sitch i
fate meted out to Fried, he gains his | ij
freedom on payment of $2,000, and his rege
promise to say nothing to police. Three manet bc
months later the kidnapers snatch young Lie -
Norman Miller and hold him for $100,- a.
000 ransom. They eventually release | °° te
the youth for $13,000. News of this ) ™arked
crime seeps through to the Federal Bu-
reau of Investigation and Agents ques- O re: |
tion the youth. He gives them four ~ held «
clues: Before being blindfolded he had | ticed tha
noted that the kidnapers’ car was a which _h: |
gray club coupé; its radio had played | Cllapsib! |
a ‘certain song as they drove, and from of it. S
the hideout where he had been kept he Of & me
had heard church bells and the click Such plac
of pool balls. Through these four clues | Shown on
J, Edgar Hoover’s FBI agents start on) With a wh
the trail of the gang. _ Startins
Picion, th
The Story Concludes: nated a la
a meeting

Part Four tate 1,

IRECTOR J. EDGAR HOOVER city o1

Was seated at his desk in his 7” hay metho

office in the Department of Jus-| t © remain

tice Building in Washington, D. C. arte, an
Before him was a large street map of FBI yt
the City of New York. Somewhere{ _ es,

in that immense area Arthur Fried had}
been held captive and killed, his body,
mysteriously disposed of. Somewhere]
also, and the probabilities were that it} ?
was the same place, Norman Miller hadp
been held captive until a $13,000 ram
som had been paid for his release. *
Even 8 _ Ma olan fae soy he} .

meager clues of the nursery rhyme song} “te
the Eowad of pool balls clicking and the “% one o'elo
tolling of a church bell might seem)

valueless. But they were the best that)
J. Edgar Hoover had and as such wo

have to do. :

It wasn’t accident that made for hin oo) gta dendl

the great reputation he enjoyed. Nog tiviti ed

where in his career is there a “lu 7 all pegs: .

(Above) Seeking to prove the fact of murder in the case of Arthur Fried, break” that catapulted him to fame. ta record of the
investigators superintend the digging up of a lot near Ukrainian Hall came as the result of long, solid, bike Nee well

TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIEE-
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’ was missing was a neighborhood pool hall.

, The agent had a hunch. Crossing the
Avenue he proceeded west on 6th Street
and stopped before Ukranian Hall. A
flamboyant bill poster announced a dance
for the coming Wednesday. Entering the
building he was unable to find any one
on the main floor, He descended a steep
flight of wooden steps that led to the cel-
lar and as he went he heard the distinct
click of pool balls.

The cellar was divided into two large
rooms with a door at the far end that
led to the furance room. The room on
the left was obviously a mecting hall for
rows of collapsible chairs were stacked
against the wall. The room on the right
contained four pool tables, two of which
were being used.

Convinced that he had found the hide-
out of the snatchers the agent reported
immediately to Hoover. A score of men
were sent into the district for undercover
investigation, but no arrests were to be
made. ‘

Immediately following this development
the men working at the race tracks lo-
cated a 1938 Packard coupe, whose own-
er had possessed a 1937 Buick coupe
bearing license number 7N-900—the first
two numbers of which had been seen by
Young on the car that had snatched
Arthur Fried. The owner of the Packard,
according to the records, was Dennis
Gula, residing at 53 St. Marks Place.

That address was but a short distance

from the Ukranian Hall.

HE tempo of the investigation speeded
up. The following morning when
Dennis Gula left his house, two agents

trailed him. They: were puzzled to see
that he was a man in his late fifties for
thus far all indications had been that all
the snatchers were young men. How-
ever, puzzled or not, when Gula led them
Straight to Ukranian Hall, they knew
that they were leveling their sights on
the: kidnap mob at last.

Swift investigation uncovered the fact
that Dennis Gula was the operator of
Ukranian Hall. Further, that though the
Packard coupe was registered in his name,
it was his son Demetrius-—better known
as Danny—who used it. And Danny had
friends, also young—two especially. The
three men were thick as thieves. One
was Johnny Murphy, alias John Virga,
who lived at 265 Rutledge Street in
Brooklyn. The other was William Jacknis
who lived with his wife on the lower
East Side.

The three men were put under con-
stant surveillance and it was soon dis-
covered that they were putting pressure
on a certain well known criminal lawyer
to effect the release of a pal of theirs—_
Joseph Stephen. Sacoda—who had been
picked up.a month before for parole vio-
lation and returned to Sing Sing.

None of the three men had any visible
means of support. Yet strangely they
squandered money hand over fist like
drunken: sailérs on a spree. Were they
living high on the proceeds of the Mil-
ler snatch? Hoover was sure they were.

Danny Gula, Murphy and Sacoda all
had records. Hoover showed their pic-
tures to young Miller who promptly put
the finger on Sacoda as the number 1

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Miller’s home in Brooklyn and convinced
the boy and his father that it was in the
best interests of society that they co-
operate with the Law.

Young Miller then told the story of
his kidnapping.

It had taken place on Saturday night,
July 23rd. Coming out of the Kingsway
Theatre on the corner of Coney Island
Avenue and Quentin Road, shortly be-
fore midnight, he had climbed into his

’ car and turned into Coney Island Avenue,

where he was stopped by a red light.

Two men had suddenly emerged from
the shadows of a building and hopped
on the running boards on either side of
his car. The man by the wheel pressed a
gun against his head while the other
climbed in beside him. This second man
also held a gun. Then the number one
man circled the car and climbed in the
front seat beside his accomplice.

“It all happened so fast I didn’t know
what was going on,” explained Miller.
“The light turned green just then and
they told me to get going—to keep my
eyes straight ahead. I followed instruc-
tions, for the number two man had his
gun sticking me in the ribs but in the
rear view mirror I saw another car fol-
lowing us—a gray coupe.

“They told me to stop at twenty-second
Street and Avenue O, and ‘I pulled up
to the curb. Then the man next to me
put strips of adhesive across my eyes
and then a pair of big sun glasses. To
hide the white patches, I guess. Then
I was taken out of my car and shoyed
into the back seat of another car that
was pulled up behind us. The gray coupe
that had been following us, I supposc.
Then we got under way.

“Finally we stopped and I was hustled
across a sidewalk and into a_ building.
With my eyes sealed off I was very sensi-
tive to everything else, and I was think-
ing fast. I walked down five steps, then
made a right turn and walked across a
long wooden floor. Then I was led down
a steep flight of stairs—14 steps. At the
bottom I could hear the sound of pool
balls clicking together not too far away.
I was then walked about forty feet across
another wooden floor. While I was walk-
ing I managed to Work a corner of the
tape over one eye loose and. saw about
20 rows of stacked up folding chairs. I
was in some kind of a hall or something.”

Miller described the number one snatch-
man as in his late twenties, five feet-
eight. or nine and of medium build. He
had a long nose in a pale face and was
dressed in a snappy gray suit and a gray
felt hat. The number two man was
younger, taller and heavier and of dark
complexion. He had not seen the third
man who had driven the get-away car.

“What happened after they put you in
the car?” asked the FBI agent.

“Well, someone turned on the radio
for a couple of minutes.”

“Good. What was on the air?”

“A girl singing ‘A-tisket-A-tasket.’ "

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‘heap dime
dispatched
the outlets
rk area.
working in
* the snatch
high school
esting story
the movies
re had wit-
‘urning into
ta Packard
dark sedan.
hot forward
ng it to the
out of the
coupe. At
the two cars.
uz on he had
he had made
2 scene. The
on and they
site direction.
n eye-witness
agent asked
the license

umber, some-
nd two num-

| eres: |

bers L couldn't get,” replied Warren Young.

“How about the sedan?”

The agent waited eagerly for the an-
swer. The kidnap car had not been
abandoned: it was still in the hands of
the mob. If Young came through now
the case would crack wide open.

But Young wasn’t able to come through.
All he had been able to see of the license
number on the kidnap car were the sym-
bols 7N. .

“What kind of a car was it™

“It looked like a Buick or Olds to me.”

“And what time did this take place?”

Young considered for a moment. “I got
out of the movie at 11:30, It was about
11:45 when I first passed the two cars.”

Since the contact man had told Hugo
that he would call the garage at three,
the PBI men put taps on the telephone
there and attached. recording equipment
to it. The line was kept open, and when
the telephone rang at three sharp they
were all set.

Hugo . answered the

call. “How's

Arthur?” he asked eagerly. :

“Okay, so far,” said the contact man.
“But time is running out.
the dough?”

Have you got

“Listen,” pleaded Hugo, “you got us
all wrong. We can’t raise anything like
that kind of money.”

“How much can you raise?”

“Two thousand, maybe?”

“What? That’s chicken feed. You
don’t seem to think much of your brother.
Listen, you mug! You gotta do better
than that—much better. I’m going to give
you one more chance. Get all your family
together ‘and start piling it up—and it
better be plenty. [ll contact you again
at nine tonight.”

“How do we know Arthur is still alive?”

put in Hugo. -
_ “Shut up and dig up that dough—or
he won't be!” The line went dead, and
the FBI men shut off the recording ma-
chine.. They had a complete record of
the conversation, and they now imme-
diately traced the call-to a phone booth
in a candy store on the lower East Side
of New York. However, no effort was
made at this time to follow up this lead
since it was felt that if the kidnappers
got an inkling that the FBI were on their
trail, they would immediately dispose of
their victim as baggage which was too hot
to handle.

- times.

a

Over the next two days the kidnap
contact man called Hugo no less than six
All conversations were recorded
and the origin of all calls traced. From
the frequency of the calls it was evident
that the snatch mob didn’t know that the
FBI had moved in on the case, and thus
far only a brief notice had appeared in
the newspapers to the effect that Arthur
Fried was missing.

During the course of these six calls
Hugo pleaded to be allowed to speak
to Arthur or for some positive sign that
his brother was still alive, claiming that
the family was reluctant to turn over the
ransom money unless they were sure that
Arthur was alive and would be turned
loose.

Hugo failed in this endeavor but he
convinced the mob that, he couldn’t raise
$200,000. A compromise was struck at
$25,000, and negotiations were proceed-
ing rapidly for an intricate payoff when
a newspaper reporter, sensing a big story,
contacted the missing man’s mother.
From the distraught woman he got the
entire story of the kidnapping and the
fact that the FBI were working on the
case. ‘

He splashed the story over the front
page of his paper in a sensational scoop,

thereby assuring Arthur Fried’s doom. .

From the moment the newspaper first hit
the streets, all negotiations were broken
off. There was nothing but an ominous,
deadly silence from the kidnap contact
man.

As the days slipped by into weeks and
still no word from Arthur Fried or the
kidnap gang;’ it was reluctantly admitted
by the FBI that Arthur Fricd was proba-
bly dead, even though his body had not
turned up. There were lots of ways of
disposing of a body: by acid, by packing
it into a barrel. of wet concrete and
dumping it into the bay; by burning... .

QR months the FRI agents worked
on the vague clue of the kidnap car
described by Warren Young. The
number seven followed by the letter “N”
was all they had to work on; however a
check with the Motor Vehicle Bureau
at Albany revealed that no fewer than
12,000 plates carrying 7N as the first
two symbols had been issued during 1937.

When this figure was broken down in-’

to Buicks and Oldsmobiles, 7,000 yet
remained.
Now, in 1938, to check the owners

of 7,000 cars presented a stupendous task »

but doggedly the FBI agents set to it.
The note paper clue had petered out,
and they had no other lead.

They were still working on this job
late in July when they got word, via the
underworld grapevine, that several days
before, on July 23rd, a young man by
the name of Norman Miller, the son of
a wealthy father, had been successfully
snatched on the streets of Brooklyn and
held for ransom. When the ransom had
been paid through an intermediary, after
much telephone negotiation, the boy ‘had
been released, unharmed. ,

There were many aspects of the Miller

case that closely matched the Fried kid-
napping, even though young Miller had
been eventually released unharmed. FBI
agents called at (Continued on page 51)

‘

23

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“Just when was the radio turned on?”

“Just after we made the switch into
their car.”

“And how long was it on?”

“About ten minutes.”

“And how long did you drive after
it was turned off?”

“Another fifteen minutes, maybe.”

“Fast or slow?”

“J would say normal city driving—
maybe 25 miles an hour.”

“What was your impression of the kind
of streets you were driving over?”

“Main thoroughfares, at first, then, to-
wards the end, streets less travelled. I
remember something else—just as we got
to the hideout somebody remarked that
it was just 1 o’clock.”

Pressed ever more closely Miller was
surprised by the bits of information
dredged up from his memory. Beside the
clicking pool balls he had heard the bark-
ing of dogs nearby and the distant rumble
of “El” trains. The following morning,
Sunday, he had heard a church bell ring
and wanting to know the time had counted
the strokes. He had counted 36 strokes
in all. .

After the ransom had been collected
and he was being taken, still blindfolded,
from the hideout to be turned loose, one
of the snatchers had told him to ‘talk
and act natural’ and to start the ball roll-
ing had remarked: “That was a swell
picture we just seen.”

From this remark it was shrewdly de-
duced that a motion picture theatre could
be seen from the door of the gangsters’
hideaway.

NDER the personal direction of Hoover,
the FBI now put its highly efficient
machine into high gear. Norman
Miller had given them plenty of material
to work on and they were convinced from
his story that the mob that had snatched
him had also been responsible for the
disappearance and probable death of
Arthur Fried.

Miller was now taken to a large metro-

politan auto sales room. Here he was -

blindfolded and in turn seated on the
rear cushions of a dozen Cars. Here,
by sense of touch alone, his hands going
over the various gadgets, he was to see
if he could establish the make of the
car in which the snatchers had abducted
him. He came up with the answer on
the last try. The interior of a Packard
matched the interior of the kidnap car,
according to the sensitive story told by
his fingers. :

Progress was being made. Fried had
been snatched in 1937 in a car with plates
beginning with 7N. The owner of those
plates was still snatching victims. But
now, in July of 1938, he was operating
from a Packard coupe.

From Miller’s father it) was learned
that on the day of the snatch he had
won over $5000 at the race track. Hoover
judged this fact to be more than a mere
coincidence. He was convinced that the
kidnap mob had been aware of this large
killing and thus had abducted the son.
This, in turn, led to the conclusion that
the mob, or members of it, frequented the
races. Orders wete now issued that all
race tracks in the vicinity of New York
were to be canvassed for a 38 Packard

coupe. The agents were also to check
back to see if any owners of these cars
had had 1937 plates beginning with the
symbols 7N.

On the other hand, if the check of
the cars at the race tracks failed to turn
up a live lead, there was still the radio
song to work on and the 36 strokes of a
church bell, to say nothing of the click-
ing of pool balls. fag

Hoover’s men now went to work on
these leads. Contacting the broadcasting

stations they learned that on the night
of July 23rd the song “A-tisket-A-tasket”
had gone on the air at precisely 12:35
a.M. And since young Miller had heard
one of the kidnappers remark that it was
just 1 o'clock when they arrived at the
hideout, Miller had travelled 25 minutes
from the moment he was put in the
snatcher’s car at 22nd Street and Avenuc

O.

Using 22nd Street and Avenue O as a
focal point four agents now started out—
North, South, East and West and drove
at a steady 25-miles-per-hour for 25
minutes. Then they stopped. Using the
distance between the starting point and
the furthest point reached by the agents
as a diameter, with the starting point as
a center, a circle was drawn on a map
of New York. The arca contained in
this circle included all of Brooklyn and
the lower third of Manhattan. Inevitably.
somewhere within this circle was the
kidnappers’ hideout.

Next, all churches, pool rooms and
meeting halls within this circle were
spotted on the map with different colored
pins. Wherever there was a close con-
junction of three different colored pins,
another smaller circle was drawn on the
map.

When this work had been completed
it was found that there were 31 small
circles within the larger circle—31 loca-
tions where a church, meeting hall and
pool room were within a block or so
of cach other. Ninetecn of these arcas
were in Brooklyn, 12 in lower Man-
hattan.

Hoover assigned a man to each area.

Checking the 31 areas proved slow,
tedious work. It was not until a Sunday
morning three months later that an agent
standing on the corner of Second Avenue
and 6th Street in Manhattan, heard the
bell of St. Marks on the Bowery, an

\

ancient New York church two blocks.

away. The bell tolled 31 times! True,
this was not 36 strokes: as Miller had
counted, but surely it was more than the
average number of times a church bell
rings. ;

Glancing across the street the agent
noted that Loew’s Commodore Theatre
stood on the opposite corner. This fitted
in with the remark about a ‘good movie’
that one of the snatchers had made the
night that Miller had ‘been released. Half
way down 6th Street, towards ‘Third Ave-
nue, beyond the side exit of the theatre,
was the entrance to the Ukranian Hall.
And beyond that on Third Avenue
rumbled the “EI.”

The heart of the agent kicked out a
faster beat. Everything seemed to dove-
tail. A church whose bell tolled an un-
usual number of times—a movie house, a

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Mio for the barn. You might as well

chest”

Virgil jist laughed bitterly. “LE didn't
kill Leroy,” he insisted. “And you
eat prove it Tt t have any veasen
to WL any Dest tetera

IRGIT, became an increasingly dill

cult problem the longer he stayed in
jail. He either wouldn’t talk at all or
he'd tell one wild story after another
which were too fantastic to believe.
Three different times he promised
Charles he'd tell the true story of what
happened. And each time, he men-
tioned the name of some. Elkhart
friend who had accompanied him and
Leroy to Atwood and killed Leroy.
Charles and Stout investigated the
Elkhart angles and quickly learned
that the men mentioned couldn't pos-
sibly have been in Atwood Friday or
Saturday.

On the Wednesday morning follow-
ing his arrest, I said to Charles at
breakfast: “Virgil is guilty, no doubt,
but you men don’t seem to have any
success in breaking him. Why not turn
him over to me. I think I understand
Virgil from the mother’s viewpoint.
He resents the way you men treat
him.”

Charles laughed but he looked at me
admiringly. “I never thought of that,
Alma, but it might work. Go ahead
and try it; we’ll lay off Virgil for a
while.” i

I hadn’t any particular formula in
mind to wring a confession from Virgil
but I felt that kindness and motherli-
ness might work where the men’s
harshness had failed.

I began to visit Virgil in his cell
frequently and to talk to him for long
periods about small and idle things
that had nothing whatsoever to do
with the murder. I spoke of what a
fine mother he had and how Fred
must be working awfully hard to save
his farm. I told Virgil it was a shame
he hadn’t married a nice girl and
settled down to rear a family like so
many of the young men of his age
had done.

Suspicious of me at first, Virgil
gradually warmed up and I could tell
that he welcomed my every visit.

He was especially grateful when I
brought him a piece of mince pie or
chocolate cake and he would gaze at
me in adoration when I'd say, “Virgil,
you’re just like one of the family. I
hate to see you in trouble like this.”

He accepted with enthusiasm when
I suggested that he seek spiritual com-
fort in the Bible. And in exchange for
pie and ‘cake and other sweets I
brought him, he would memorize cer-
tain passages I marked in the Bible,
reciting them proudly when I sat with
him in his cell.

At one time, I said to Virgil: “I’m
sure, Virgil, that you loved your fam-
ily and hated to see them living in
poverty. You probably took out that

The troopers looked carefully at the
youth, and their lips set. He fitted the
counterman’s description to the last
detail, glasses and all.

ITH an effort, Flanagan kept his
voice at normal pitch. “Mind if I
talk to him?” he asked casually.

“No,” said the father. “Go ahead.”
“Eddie,” said Flanagan, “where
were you last night?”

Edward Haight’s rough face was im-
passive as he looked at the trooper.
“In Stamford,” he answered promptly.
“Not Bedford?” asked Flanagan.
The boy’s cold, gray eyes didn’t even
flicker. “No,” he said. “I was in Stam-
ford with another kid.”

Flanagan turned to the elder Haight
and said, “I want to take him with us
for a while. Is it all right with you?”
“When will you have him back?” the
man mumbled.

“In about fifteen minutes, I think.”

ay pictures of these conditions. rite
he book will be sent FREE at once.

“Okay,” said Arnold Haight.

come clean and get this thing off your

Hetbanee ane plamied to cleiapypeann ge
that you could help your brothers and
your mother live off the insturance.”

Viele at testis necnuttet eat Nisvel
expected, tears came inte Viruil's eyes,
His lips quivered momentarily and 7
Wretidit dye wu peenmye te Voveride, Donal
(hen he waped away the tears ane
tightened up. I knew that further work
Wa needed on nay part

Friday being Virgil's — twentieth
birthday, T decided to bake him a
chocolate cake, complete with candles,
Somehow, the word got around town
and To became the tarnet of some very
unkind remarks, People were Sayin,
“What's the big idea——~Mrs, Moon cod-
dling a killer?” and “It’s a fine wiry to
spend the taxpayers’ money—baking
cakes for a murderer,”

I brushed aside the criticism in the
belief that my objective was worth the
cost. Friday morning, I carried the
cake to Virgil’s cell with the grecting,
“Happy birthday, Virgil.”

I handed him the cake and he broke
into tears, laying aside the Bible he
had been reading. “Mrs. Moon,” Virgil
said, “you’ve treated me wonderfully,
I—” He choked up.

I sat down beside him and picked
up the Bible. Turning it right side
up I saw that Virgil had been reading
“St. John 3:16," a passage that I had
marked the night before.

VIRGIL pointed a trembling finger at
the passage, which read:

“For God so loved the world that
he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in Him should
not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Virgil was blubbering now and in
danger of dropping his cake. “Those
are beautiful words, Mrs. Moon. I—
I—that is, they've made me think a
lot about my sins.”

I held my breath.

“There’s something I want to tell
you, Mrs. Moon. I killed Leroy
Lovett.” ;

There was a long silence, broken
only by Virgil’s sobbing.

Struggling to compose himself, he
looked at me squarely and said:

“The Devil told me to do it; I
couldn’t help it.”

Virgil went on to say that he had
picked out Lovett as a victim be-
cause he wanted to disappear and
Leroy looked so much like him that
he thought he could kill Lovett and
pass him off as himself. He said that
after he and Lovett had left Lillie’s
Friday night, he had gone to his
brother’s home and Lovett had driven
to the fishing cabin.

With his devilish plan in mind, Vir-
gil went to Atwood Saturday morning
and bought a new suit of clothes. He
took his old ones to the cabin where
Lovett was asleep on the davenport.
Without warning, Virgil struck Lovett
with the steel buggy-wheel rim. Lovett
just groaned and lay still as Virgil
dressed him in his old clothes.

Virgil then went to work on the

The troopers bundled Edward Haight
into the car and started off. “Now,
Eddie,” Flanagan said, “who is. this
boy you were with last night?”

“His name is Larry Merkin,” Haight
said. He added the boy's address.

He was calm, too calm, and Flana-
gan and Waltz wondered if they were
hot on another false trail. No youth
this age, they believed, could be so
calm and indifferent if he had a guilty
conscience.

With many unspoken doubts, they
drove to the home of Larry Merkin.
The boy was not at home. The troop-
ers returned to the car.

“Where does Larry Merkin work?”
they asked Haight.

Haight gave them the name of a
Stamford plant.

“What hours does he work?” Flana-
gan asked him.

“From 5 in the afternoon until 1 in
the morning,” Haight said. He added,
“Only last night he didn’t work. He

wechans eartanetin, eopeectinns to chive
it away at night after putting Lovett's

body on the teaeks He couldia’t pet

Hes ci eed leentiadly refining: te
the cabin, he found Lovett sittings ina
dazed condition oon thes side oof the
Chawetipoont Phere duit Laweett cern canned

Lovell ran out of the house and Jumped
into the viver, Virgil pulled him out
and carried: him boek foo the claven
port, striking him new blows with the
buyety rim. Tle werited until dark, bor.
rowed his brother's buggy and hauled
the unconscious Lovett) toward the
erossiney, bat uot until after de tiuavd
mutilated Lovells tongue to assure
his silence if he lived through the
crossing=accident hoax,

Virgil readily admitted that he
placed the letter from the insurance
company in Lovett’s pocket just be-
fore he unhitched the horse and pro-
ceeded to drag the buggy onto the
tracks. He hitched-hiked a ride to
Auburn Saturday night and from
there called Mrs. Lovett Sunday morn-
ing in an effort to fool her into think-
ing Leroy was still alive,

After Virgil had concluded his con-
fession, I hurried from his cell to
hunt up Charles. ‘

Where did I find him?

Together with Stout in a = small
cubby-hole directly beneath Virgil's
cell.

Both my husband and Stout had a
pad and a pencil in their hands and
were smiling broadly.

“Excellent work, Alma,” Charles
grinned. “Stout and I had a hunch
that you had Virgil near to a break.
We planted ourselves under his cell
and took down everything he said.
You know—”

Charles grinned and winked at
Stout. “Do you know, Alma, that
your chocolate cake sometimes nearly
makes me forget I’m sheriff. It must
be good if it made Virgil forget that
he was talking himself into prison.”

Somehow I felt that my victory was
an empty one in which the teach-
ings of Christ had exercised a far
stronger influence over Virgil than
my chocolate cake. I walked back
into the kitchen.

The grand jury anickly indicted
Virgil Decker for murder.

Virgil went on trial on June 1 be-
fore a jury in Kosciusko Circuit Court
before Judge L. W. Royse.

The prosecution accused Virgil of
killing Lovett in an effort to defraud
the insurance company and help his
family.

Virgil made only a weak pretense
of a defense which neither affirmed
nor denied the charge.

On June 13, the jury convicted him
of murder in the first degree and he
was sentenced to life imprisonment
in the Indiana State Prison.

(To save innocent persons embar-
rassment, the names Andrew Stone-
man, Shanty Johnson and Lillie
Trainer in this story is fictitious.)

"Get My Girls Back Alive!" (Continued from Page 13)

was with me. We just fooled around.”

That looked bad, but the troopers
were thorough. They decided to check
Haight’s story. They drove to the plant
and Flanagan approached the time
clerk.

“Tm looking for a boy by the name
of Larry Merkin,” he said.

The time clerk went through the
files. “Yes, we have a lad by that
name here,” she said. “He isn’t work-
ing now, though.”

Flanagan said slowly, “Can I find
out whether he was working last
night?”

“Certainly,” ‘the girl said. She
checked the files. “Yes, he worked last
night.”

O HAIGHT had lied! Flanagan’s

palms were wet with sweat.

Flanagan returned to the car,

“Eddie,” he said, “you’re a liar.
Merkin wasn’t with you last night.
He was working.”


HAIGHT, Edward, 17, whit ‘
ly, seward, » white, electrocuted Sing Sing (Weste!
July 3, 193. gz g (Westcheste r)

Our Rejected Children

BYWALRERT DEUTSC a

:

Little, Brown and Company -~ Boston

19:50


They pressed the counterman for
additional information concerning this
Haight. Who was he? Who was his
family? What did he do?

Yes, he knew a little something of
the Haight family, the counterman said
—all of Stamford did. Several gen-
erations ago, the Haights were big-
wigs in town. They were first citizens
and several streets were named after
them,

One of them is Haight Avenue, on
which is the town police headquarters.

Then, a few years before, Everett,
an uncle of the youth who had the
station-wagon, had been arrested for
burglary. He still is in Sing Sing, serv-
ing a long term.

Three years before, the counterman
went on, Arnold Haight’s wife died a
horrible death. She was trapped in a
mysterious midnight blaze at the
Haight ramshackle home on Wildwood
Road, near the outskirts of Stamford.
The razed house was never rebuilt.

Instead, Arnold Haight, the father
of the boy who had the station-wagon,
hastily put up a simple home.

Near this structure, said the coun-
terman, was another place, in. which
dwelt the mother of the Haight
brothers, Mrs. Ella Haight. She was
the grandmother of the youthful sus-
pect.

Flanagan, Waltz and Allyn listened
to this recital. They went into a hud-
dle.

“It looks good,” said Flanagan. “All
but the description.”

“But those women may have been
off the beam,” Allyn said. “They were
excited and it was dark. They easily
could have made a mistake.”

Flanagan nodded. He put in a call
to the Westport barracks, and was in-
formed that the station-wagon had

AD—1

When the killer arrived at this bridge over the Kensico Reservoir he tossed the body of his last victim into the water

been stolen from near the Haight
place.

Flanagan nodded. “This may be it,”
he said crisply.

The two troopers, along with Allyn,
got into their cars. They decided first,
to head for the home on the outskirts
of town,

Bur they found no one home. How-
ever, cautious inquiry among others
in the vicinity revealed #hat the young
Haight who wore glasses was named
Edward. -

“Where does Eddie work?” Flana-
gan asked one informant.

“With his father, They’re up-coun-
try today, clearing away some brush.”

“When will they be back?” Allyn
asked.

“About 4:30. Least that’s when they
usually get home.”

“Thanks,” Flanagan said.

With the feeling that now they had
finally struck it rich, the troopers went
to the home of Arnold Haight and sat
tight.

About this time little
Lynch was found—dead!

The children of a caretaker on an
estate stumbled across the almost
naked body in Beaver Brook Creek
on Route No. 22 near Bedford Village.

They stared, petrified, at the bat-
tered body.

Margaret Lynch’s skull was caved
in, as if by a blow or a fall; her tiny
body had been slashed repeatedly, ob-
viously by a knife or a razor.

The children were held there on the
bank of the stream as if hypnotized.
Here was peace and quiet, except for
the gentle lap-lap of the stream and
the twittering of the indifferent birds.
Yet death had been struck.

Suddenly one child screamed shrilly,

Margaret

and the awful spell was broken.

Crazed with terror now, the chil-
dren ran from the grade and sobbed
out the news.

In a few moments, the solitude that
had been one with Margaret Lynch
was shatlered by the arrival of police
cars, their sirens wailing a_ high-
pitched dirge. Officials scrambled down
the bank to the stream, viewed the
pitiful little body in grim silence.

This was murder beyond a doubt—
murder of an undescribably vicious
nature. Police saw the nature of the
crime and knew undoubtedly that
Helen Lynch, too, was dead.

Lieutenant Hanusovsky, looking at
the body, was more convinced than
ever that his original theory was cor-
rect. The station-wagon  marauder
must be the guilty man. And he had
to be found in a hurry, before he had
a chance to strike and strike again.

Jumping into his car; Hanusovsky
roared back in the direction of West-
port barracks. He intended to spur his
men on in their search for the wanted
man.

Meanwhile, back in Stamford,
Waltz, Flanagan and Allyn waited im-
patiently for the Haights to return
home.

About 4:30, an old coupe rumbled
down the road, In it were a man and
two teen-age boys.

The troopers held up the car.

“Are you Arnold Haight?” Flanagan
asked the older man.

The man looked at him curiously.
“That’s right,” he said.

“Is Edward with you?” Flanagan
asked.

“Yes,” Arnold Haight said. He
glanced into the tonneau of the car.
“That’s him right here.”

(Continued on Page 42)

ae eee ON gine ae a

Edward

learned
what it meant to talk out of turn

Haight: He

13


See

yes

anew

Haight still was cool, somewhat hurt
(hat hin veracity was questioned
“There must be some mistake.”

Flanagan and Waltz again were
nhaken by the hey's apparent in
cerity, his coolness under fire, But they
were determined to recheck his story.

“We'll see” Flanagan said. ‘They
drove to Merkin's home again. ‘This
time the boy was in. Flanagan entered
the house and spoke to him alone.
Merkin stated emphatically he had
worked.

“Md aight said you
him,” Flanagan said.

“Then he’s a liar!” ericd the lad.

“Will you say that in front of him?"
Flanagan asked.

“Yes,” said Merkin.

Flanagan led him out to the car.

“This boy says he wasn’t with you
last night, Eddie.”

HAIGHT looked squarely and boldly
at Merkin. “Why, Larry, you know
you were,” he reproved.

Merkin’s face grew red. “No, I
wasn’t!” he exploded. “You know I
wasn’t!”

Flanagan said, “Okay, Sonny, run
along in.”

The troopers started for the bar-
racks with Haight. On the way Haight
told the troopers he was only seven-
teen and that he wouldn’t mind being
in their shoes. He seemed to get a
kick out of riding in the police car.

At the barracks, Waltz and Flana-
gan searched the youth. They found a
strand of rope, a razor blade, a hunt-
ing knife with a six-inch blade and a
gasoline ration book.

The ration book had the identifica-
tion ODTH on it! -

The hunting knife carried blood-
stains! :

Flanagan sought out Sergeant Mau-
rice Purtell, who was at dinner. ‘‘We’ve
got a kid here whose story is all wet,”
he said.

Purtell nodded and went on with
his meal. After this long and busy
day, he was used to false alarms.

Flanagan casually dropped _ the
ODTH ration book in front of Purtell.
“We found this on him,” he said.

Purtell leaped to his feet. “What!”
he shouted.

“That’s right,” said Flanagan. “And

a knife with blood.”
. Controlling himself with an effort,
Purtell then told Flanagan that little
Margaret Lynch had been found—
butchered!

The officers hustled Haight into
Hanusovsky’s office and started to
question him. He remained calm under
the verbal barrage. He denied stealing
the station-wagon, denied ever having
seen the little Lynch sisters.

“Where did you get this
book?” Purtell asked him.

“A soldier gave it to me,” Haight
answered nonchalantly. Then he
changed his story. “I bought it from a
man,” he said.

The officers were convinced that he
was lying.

Flanagan used the radio to call
Lieutenant Hanusovsky, who was in
his car returning from Bedford.

“Hurry up in,” Flanagan said. “T
think we’ve got our man.”

The Lieutenant arrived soon. Once
he heard the story Flanagan and Waltz
had to tell, he went after Haight.

At first, he used the gentle ap-
proach. He was somewhat puzzled.
Haight did not fit the description given
by the women accosted.

Suddenly Hanusovsky turned on the
heat. He shattered Haight with ques-
tions, tripped him up, heckled him
until Haight grew furious.

“I don’t have to answer any ques-
tions,” he snarled. “I know my rights.”

Smug and sure of himself, the youth
leaned back comfortably in the huge
leather chair. He smirked at the offi-
cials, but Hanusovsky shook him from
his calm.

“Why did you kill those girls?”
Hanusovsky asked suddenly.

Haight cracked. He burst into tears
and blubbered, “I never killed those
two young girls.” .

That clinched it, Hanusovsky
thought. He never had mentioned
young girls at all.

were with

ration

“Lock him up,” he ordered quickly.

Haight, still bhabheriys, wisi led toca
coll, and Tlamnsovsky contacted) New
York police in Bedford, “I've got the
pega’? Dye ceiel

Completely broken, Thivipehit al
tempted suicide in his cell. He fastened
noeot chain aroune his neck and tried
to draw it Gipht, Alert Groapers dragged
him away.

In a short time, New York police
arrived at the barracks. Moniz, Mal-
lett, Nugent, Dershimer and Hodgett
crowded into Hanusovsky'’s office,

With them was Wlbert ‘I’. Gallagher,
district attorney of Westchester County.

The Connecticut police were repre>

sented by MHanusovsky, Flanagan,
Waltz, Purtell and Sergeant George
Ferris.

Ready to take notes was Police
Stenographer Frank Verelli.

Then Haight was brought in, clad in
dark dungarees given him by the
troopers. His nervousness had been
washed away by his flood of tears, and
once again he was calm.

Carefully and methodically Gal-
lagher went after Haight. He showed
him the ration book, the knife and
the razor blade. He showed him the
rope and Haight’s own bloodstained
clothes.

“You did it!” Gallagher said firmly.
“We know you did it! And these mur-
der weapons are yours!”

Haight turned ashen, then blurted,
“Okay, I'll tell the truth. I killed the
girls. I don’t know why; I just did.”

Then, in a strange, calm voice that
contrasted with the horror that filled
even the most case-hardened officials
in the room, Haight without emotion
started his tragic tale.

He told how he had stolen the sta-
tion-wagon shortly before 1 a.m. of
September 14. He drove around, ac-
costed a few women who ignored
him. When dawn began to break, he
hid the station-wagon in the North
Stamford woods, went home and slept.

He worked all that day, he told
police, but at 4:30 he took the station-
wagon out of hiding, and once again
went on the prowl.

E MET with a series of rebuffs—

until he came across the little
Lynch sisters at play near the Quarry
Road in Bedford.

“Going down?” he asked them.

Eager for a spin in the shiny station-
wagon, the little girls got into the car.
Haight told them they were going to
play some interesting games. He drove
along Route No, 22 until dark.

Then he stopped the car, took a rope
he had in the rear, and tied Margaret
by the ankles with one piece. Then he
tied Helen by the wrists with her
hands behind her back. He tied Helen’s
ankles with another piece of rope.

“They didn’t scream at first. I guess
they were too scared,” he said, half
smiling.

Then he dumped the two little girls
into the rear of the station-wagon and
attempted to attack them. Margaret
screamed, Haight took out his hand-
kerchief and stuffed it in her mouth.

Then he got behind the wheel again,
and drove along Route No. 22.

The gag didn’t work and Margaret
continued to scream, He became angry,
he told police. Reaching a little con-
crete bridge between Bedford and
Stamford, he threw her out. The car
was moving at approximately 35 miles
an hour,

Then he went back, picked her up
and replaced her in the station-wagon,

When he reached the bridge over
Beaver Brook Creek he tossed her
over the concrete abutment.

Her body fell short, hitting the rail
and dropping to the pavement.

“J think she was alive up to then,
but I guess the fall killed her,’ he
told police.

He retrieved her body, then drove
into the village and purchased a pack-
age of razor blades. But he used his
knife instead to slice the little girl’s
body into ribbons.

Then he threw her back into Beaver
Brook Creek.

With only Helen left now, he drove
all the way through Armonk, still
along Route No. 22, and parked the

station-wagon on the Kensico Keser-
voir. ‘Phere he attempted to attack the
Wittle gtivd

(In deference to the reader's tastes
the details of wohat transpired next are
omitted.)

A short time later he tossed her into
the water.

He then tid the ear in the North
Stamford woods, he said, went home
and went to bed.

As Haight concluded his gory tale,
police officials stared at one another
in horror, This was worse, far worse,
than they ever had dreamed it could
be.

As offleers stared in unedisyuised
loathing at Haight, he leaped from his
chair, seized the bloodstained knife and
attempted to hack his way to freedom,
He was floored by Mallett’s fist.

The troopers then drove Haight to
the Kensico Reservoir, where he
calmly directed operations for the re-
covery of Helen Lynch’s body.

He watched with detached interest
as rubber-booted firemen, armed with
grappling-hooks, dragged the water for
several hours.

“That's it,” he said nonchalantly
when a boat manned by Assistant Fire
Chief John Tompkins bumped across
the body in the darkness.

This was early in the morning of
September 16.

Haight was taken to Bedford Village
jail, and an angry, lynch-minded
crowd milled around outside. They
talked of taking justice into their own
hands, and police dispersed the mob
with difficulty. .

In the jail, Haight came face to face
with Patrick Lynch, who was being
comforted by a priest. The young
killer smiled when Lynch burst into
tears.

Police wasted no time in tying up
the case against Haight.

The station-wagon was recovered by
Policeman Gerald Kilmartin of Stam-
ford. It was taken to a garage for
examination by Officer Clarence Bur-
rell and others, who found bloodstains
on the inside of the right front door
and in other spots. Tests proved con-
clusively that the blood was in the
same group as that of the victims.

A search of Haight’s home revealed
a length of rope that matched that
with which the Lynch girls had been
trussed. ,

Stolen jewelry was also found in the
shack, and Haight confessed having
burglarized the home of the late Hey-
wood Broun and other residents of the
swanky North Stamford Colony.

Articles of feminine clothing also
were discovered, along with stacks of
obscene literature.

On the dreary day that Haight was
removed to Eastview Penitentiary un-
der heavy guard to await indictment
and trial, the two little Lynch girls,
their mutilated bodies sealed in white
caskets, were lowered into their final
resting place.

The sick mother was told that her
little daughters had been killed in an
automobile crash.

Soon after, the White Plains grand
jury voted four indictments carrying
the death penalty on two charges of
first-degree murder and two charges of
kidnaping.

URING the November trial in White

Plains court, Haight whistled as a
jury of twelve parents returned a ver-

dict of guilty, despite a defense plea of |’

insanity.

The youthful killer was sentenced to
die in the electric chair at Sing Sing.

At 11:07 p.m., July 8, 1943, Haight
was strapped into the electric chair.

He smiled briefly as the hood was
pulled over his head.

The current was iurned on and at
11:11 he was pronounced dead.

No one claimed the body and it was
buried at the prison.

One week later, Patrick Lynch died,
having lived just long enough to know
that the murderer of his two innocent
daughters had paid the penalty for his
awful deed.

In order to protect an innocent per-
son, the name Larry Merkin is ficti-
tious.

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