For The Thrill Of It Part 5

In fact, Robert Crowe had requested that Nathan Leopold come to the Hotel LaSalle, a luxury hotel in the downtown business district. Crowe was being cautious; although his men had traced the eyegla.s.ses found at the culvert back to Nathan, he had no reason to believe that the boy was involved in the murder of Bobby Franks and he had little desire to enmesh the Leopold family in the investigation. Media publicity had already confounded the detective work; if Nathan Leopold suddenly appeared at the Criminal Court Building, the newspapers might trumpet the boy as a suspect. Crowe merely wished to hear from Nathan Leopold an explanation for the presence of his eyegla.s.ses near the corpse.

Nathan arrived at the Hotel LaSalle within the hour. Crowe was brisk; he was sure that this matter could be quickly cleared up. To a question about the eyegla.s.ses, Nathan replied that he had possessed a pair of reading gla.s.ses for several months; they were, Nathan continued, at his home in the pocket of one of his suits. If it would give the state's attorney peace of mind, he would gladly drive back to Kenwood and retrieve them.3 Back at the Leopold home, Nathan made a show of searching his bedroom for his eyegla.s.ses, but he now knew that the state's attorney had one piece of evidence linking him to the murder of Bobby Franks. He soon abandoned the search; his eyegla.s.s case stood on top of the bureau next to his bed, but the eyegla.s.ses were missing. Nathan slipped the case into his coat pocket and went downstairs.4 Robert Crowe now had reason to hold Nathan Leopold; his questioning of the boy was no longer casual. Later that evening the police searched Nathan's bedroom and study. They turned up two items; neither connected Nathan to the murder, but both the gun-a Remington .32-caliber automatic repeater-and a letter from Nathan to a second boy, Richard Loeb, were unusual and unexpected.

Nathan had already told the detectives that he carried a shotgun on his birding expeditions, but the Remington was a handgun; it could not easily be used to shoot small birds at long distances. It was, moreover, an illegal firearm-Nathan had never applied for a permit for it.5 The letter to Richard Loeb was also a puzzle. As Crowe read it over in his office, he could discern that the two boys had quarreled: Nathan accused Richard of treachery and threatened to kill him but then wrote of his desire to continue their friendship. The letter was alternately haughty and pleading, aggressive and submissive; Nathan was angry with Richard yet desperate that they remain friends. If Richard were to break off their friendship, Nathan concluded, "extreme care must be used. The motif of a falling out of c.o.c.ksuckers would be sure to be popular, which is patently undesirable, and forms an unknown but unavoidable bond between us."6 There was no clue in the letter as to why Nathan and Richard had squabbled; nevertheless it was evident that the boys were lovers who had had a tiff. Perhaps they were part of a h.o.m.os.e.xual set at the University of Chicago and Nathan was anxious that Richard not publicly abandon and humiliate him in front of their friends.

Robert Crowe decided to move Nathan from the Hotel LaSalle to the Criminal Court Building. And he now also wanted to talk to Richard Loeb. Most probably the second boy-also the son of a wealthy and influential Chicago businessman-knew nothing of the murder, but Crowe could use Richard to draw out information about Nathan. Crowe had experience with this form of blackmail: one hint that he would reveal Richard's h.o.m.os.e.xual secrets, and the boy would sing like the proverbial canary.

IT WAS NOW ONE O'CLOCK in the morning on Friday, 30 May. Crowe had held Nathan Leopold through Thursday evening but he still had no firm evidence that Leopold was connected to the killing of Bobby Franks. Yet he couldn't simply release the boy-the gun, the eyegla.s.ses, and the h.o.m.os.e.xual relationship with Loeb all pointed an accusing finger. in the morning on Friday, 30 May. Crowe had held Nathan Leopold through Thursday evening but he still had no firm evidence that Leopold was connected to the killing of Bobby Franks. Yet he couldn't simply release the boy-the gun, the eyegla.s.ses, and the h.o.m.os.e.xual relationship with Loeb all pointed an accusing finger.

Nathan Leopold sat in a chair before him in his office; the a.s.sistant state's attorneys, Joseph Savage and Milton Smith, sat slightly to one side, also facing the boy; the stenographer, Elbert Allen, had already begun taking down their conversation in shorthand.

The English teacher at the Harvard School, Mott Kirk Mitch.e.l.l, was still the most likely suspect. What could Nathan tell them about Mitch.e.l.l? Nathan had been a pupil at the Harvard School-was there anything to suggest that his former teacher was a h.o.m.os.e.xual?

"Have you ever heard any stories about Mitch.e.l.l being queer?"

"Not definitely, no," Nathan replied.

"Well, rumors?"

"I have heard some wild rumors, yes."

"By queer, you mean what?"

"I mean s.e.xually perverted."

"And for how long a time have these rumors been floating around, to your knowledge?"

"Ever since I can remember, almost."

"You have no knowledge as to whether or not the rumors are true?"

"No, sir."7 Clearly there was not much mileage to be gained from this line of inquiry; Nathan could not tell Crowe anything he did not already know; and in any case, whatever the boy told him would be hearsay, inadmissible in a court of law.

CROWE TRIED A DIFFERENT TACK. Nathan had failed to find his eyegla.s.ses in his bedroom-he now accepted that the gla.s.ses Crowe held out before him were his own. How, Crowe asked, had they come to be found near the body of Bobby Franks? Nathan had failed to find his eyegla.s.ses in his bedroom-he now accepted that the gla.s.ses Crowe held out before him were his own. How, Crowe asked, had they come to be found near the body of Bobby Franks?

That was not difficult to explain. Nathan had been birding the weekend before the murder-that would be Sat.u.r.day, 17 May-and his eyegla.s.ses had probably fallen out of his pocket during the day. Nathan had driven out to Wolf Lake with his friend George Lewis around midday, and almost immediately they had spotted some unusual sh.o.r.ebirds resembling sandpipers. The birds flew west over the Pennsylvania Railroad tracks and alighted in the swamps: "so we both ran over the railroad track into Hyde Lake, crossed on a little log which crosses the little channel there; and after searching around for some time in the swamp, caught up to the birds again; and I fired three shots at them.... The fourth sh.e.l.l jammed on me, and the birds flew away."8 No wonder his eyegla.s.ses were found near the culvert. Only four days before the murder, he had been near that very spot in the chase after the birds. Crowe was impressed-it seemed an obvious explanation. And Nathan even had a witness who could corroborate his story: George Lewis would back up his account. But, Crowe asked, how close had he been to the culvert?

"How near did you come to the particular spot in this drain where the body was found? How near did you come to that particular spot Sat.u.r.day?"

"I should say that I pa.s.sed right over it, probably, about on a level with it. It was as near as...I could not exactly say; I should say probably within ten or twenty feet of it, anyhow."9 There was no reason not to believe the boy; he told his story in a breezily confident manner, calmly smoking a cigarette as he spoke, occasionally glancing at Crowe's a.s.sistants at his side but otherwise looking steadily at the state's attorney. But Crowe was persistent; for his own peace of mind, he wanted to be sure that Nathan was telling the truth. And Crowe had noticed that Nathan had never, in his account of the day out at Wolf Lake, explicitly said he had stumbled; nor, indeed, had he ever given any indication how the eyegla.s.ses had fallen from his pocket.

Crowe held the gla.s.ses out before him, just eighteen inches from Nathan's face.

"If you would put your gla.s.ses in your pocket, you would put them in what pocket?"

"My left breast pocket."

"Left breast coat pocket?"

"Left breast coat pocket, or possibly left vest pocket."

"Which, generally, would you do?"

"Generally I would put them in my coat."

"Did you stumble or fall at this particular spot at any time?"

"I do not remember."

"You do not remember that?"

"No, sir."

Crowe wondered if Nathan's account was accurate; the boy had been carrying a shotgun that Sat.u.r.day afternoon out at Wolf Lake. Surely he would recall if he had stumbled while holding a gun? And if Nathan had dropped his eyegla.s.ses by the culvert the previous Sat.u.r.day-four days before Paul Korff had discovered them-they would have been spattered with mud after lying so long on the ground. But the eyegla.s.ses had been conspicuously free of dirt, as though they had fallen to the ground just a few hours before their discovery. Was Nathan telling the truth when he said that he had lost his eyegla.s.ses on the weekend? The state's attorney motioned to Nathan to take hold of the eyegla.s.ses: "Will you put those in your left breast coat pocket and run and bend, and see whether they will drop out?"

Nathan took a quick drag on his cigarette. He put it carefully in an ashtray on Crowe's desk and reached out for the eyegla.s.ses. He was now a little self-conscious: Crowe and the a.s.sistants were watching him intently. The stenographer had stopped scribbling in his notebook; he, too, looked at Nathan, watching the boy as Nathan stepped into the center of the room.

Nathan stepped out, took two paces, and fell forward to the ground, putting out his hands before him. The gla.s.ses remained in place, tucked securely in his breast pocket. He repeated the motion-still they remained there; they had barely moved.

"Now, you have fallen to the floor twice?"

"Yes."

"The gla.s.ses are still in your pocket?"

"Yes, sir.... May I add that Sat.u.r.day you must remember that I had a pair of large rubber boots that did not fit me, and therefore the probability of my stumbling was greater than if I had been just normal."

"You had a gun in your hand."

"Yes, sir."

"You don't remember falling?"

"No, sir."10

IT WAS DISCONCERTING FOR N NATHAN that the gla.s.ses had failed to behave as he had hoped. But no matter-he had an alibi for the day of the murder. He had gone, as usual, to his cla.s.ses at the university that Wednesday morning, and around eleven o'clock he had picked up Richard Loeb to drive to the Loop to have lunch at the grill at Marshall Field's department store. Nathan was eager to spend part of the afternoon in Lincoln Park; he had heard from a friend that a heron had been seen there. He had brought his field gla.s.ses-would Richard like to come along? that the gla.s.ses had failed to behave as he had hoped. But no matter-he had an alibi for the day of the murder. He had gone, as usual, to his cla.s.ses at the university that Wednesday morning, and around eleven o'clock he had picked up Richard Loeb to drive to the Loop to have lunch at the grill at Marshall Field's department store. Nathan was eager to spend part of the afternoon in Lincoln Park; he had heard from a friend that a heron had been seen there. He had brought his field gla.s.ses-would Richard like to come along?

Richard Loeb could not care less about the heron-but although he himself had no interest in ornithology, he tolerated his friend's hobby. Richard was more interested in drinking; there was a pint bottle of gin in Nathan's car. And who knows? Perhaps they could pick up some girls in the park and have a good time.

As the afternoon wore on, both boys, Nathan told the state's attorney, had become "a little bit happy; neither of us was drunk." Nathan knew, however, that he couldn't take Richard home so long as his breath smelled of alcohol; Richard's father was a teetotaler and a supporter of prohibition: he would not be happy that his son had been drinking. They had dinner at the Cocoanut Grove Restaurant and then "drove up and down 63rd Street several times...to find a couple of girls with nothing to do."

"And you found them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then what happened?"

"Then we drove down Garfield Boulevard, almost to Western Avenue, and back up to Jackson Park; parked the car just north and east of the Wooded Island.... We sat around in the car and had a few drinks, and couldn't come to an agreement with the girls; so we asked them to leave, and went to go home."

"In other words, the girls..."

"...wouldn't come across."

"And they walked home?"

"That is right, yes."11 As Nathan told the alibi to Crowe, Richard Loeb also was now in an office in the Criminal Court Building, telling the same alibi to one of Crowe's a.s.sistants. On Wednesday, 21 May, Loeb explained, "between 10 and 11 o'clock...Leopold and I started down town. We stopped at Marshall Field's and had luncheon. Then we...started for Lincoln Park.... Leopold wanted to spot a migratory bird...a heron.... We hung around the park for five or six hours, then ducked for Cocoanut Grove. We had something to eat. Got there about 6 o'clock and stayed to have a few drinks. Then we had a few more and beat it."12 The alibis presented by the two boys corroborated each other exactly. Richard Loeb also told the tale of the two girls-he remembered their names as May and Edna-and, like Nathan, recounted how he and his companion had made them walk home after the girls had refused to have s.e.x.

Yet the alibi served only to heighten Crowe's suspicions. Crowe had not yet told Nathan that one of his detectives had found the letter from Nathan to Richard indicating that both boys were h.o.m.os.e.xuals. Why would they want to spend an evening trying to have s.e.x with two girls if they were h.o.m.os.e.xuals? Richard Loeb might vouch for Leopold's alibi, but Loeb's corroboration now had little value for the state's attorney. Of course, if they could find the two girls, then the alibi was genuine and they would go free. But would they find the girls?

IT WAS NOW ALMOST SEVEN o'clock in the morning, Friday, 30 May. The state's attorney had questioned Nathan Leopold throughout the night and into the early morning hours, and still the boy had shown no sign of guilt. Richard Loeb was in an adjacent room, also in the Criminal Court Building. The state's attorney decided to keep both boys in custody. They needed to get some sleep; the detectives placed Nathan in a cell in the central police station and took Richard to the 48th Street station. o'clock in the morning, Friday, 30 May. The state's attorney had questioned Nathan Leopold throughout the night and into the early morning hours, and still the boy had shown no sign of guilt. Richard Loeb was in an adjacent room, also in the Criminal Court Building. The state's attorney decided to keep both boys in custody. They needed to get some sleep; the detectives placed Nathan in a cell in the central police station and took Richard to the 48th Street station.

While the boys slept in their cells that Friday, the press woke up to the realization that Robert Crowe might have caught the murderers. Reporters from the newspapers descended on the Kenwood neighborhood to interview the parents of Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb.

Both families ridiculed the idea that either boy could be guilty of murder; they had a granite cert.i.tude that their sons would soon be released. It was all a terrible mistake-an unfortunate coincidence of circ.u.mstances that would soon right itself.

At the Leopold home, Nathan Leopold Sr. invited a small group of journalists into his house to discuss his son's plight. He knew the Franks family personally and was horrified at the kidnapping and murder of Bobby, but he a.s.sured the reporters that his son had nothing to do with it: "It is ridiculous. Of course my boy is not involved. I shall do all I can to dispel this notion of the police.... We are ready to aid the authorities in every way to solve this murder.... But it is ridiculous to suppose Nathan had anything to do with it.... I probably could get my boy out on a writ of habeas corpus, but there is no need for that sort of technical trickery. The suggestion that he had anything to do with this case is too absurd to merit comment."13 And the discovery of his son's eyegla.s.ses near the body of Bobby Franks? That also was merely a coincidence; his son had been bird-watching the previous weekend close to the culvert: "Nathan has been a student of ornithology for many years and has written numerous articles and papers on the subject. He has contributed to the bird magazine, The Auk The Auk. There is nothing to this."14 The family's faith in Nathan was complete. This trust in the boy's veracity could not be shaken, even in the face of a growing acc.u.mulation of evidence that tied him ever more closely to the murder. His elder brothers were also present at the interview with the journalists that Friday; one brother dismissed any possibility of a connection: "The idea of Nathan having anything to do with the Franks boy's death is too silly to discuss. The family is not particularly alarmed for we know just what he did the night the Franks boy disappeared; we know just how he occupied his time, and we know that he can account of himself. If he can help any in solving the crime, so much the better. We know so well where he was that night, we know our brother so well, that we are in no way alarmed at his examination by police."15 A few blocks away, at the Loeb house on Ellis Avenue, Anna Loeb was equally convinced that her son was blameless. She faced the reporters that Friday to tell them that neither her son nor Nathan Leopold had anything to do with the murder. "We have absolute confidence that Richard is telling the truth. The implication that either he or the young Leopold are involved in the Franks case is impossible on its face. No matter the circ.u.mstances of the spectacles, the idea of connecting them with the crime is absurd."16 Ernest Loeb echoed his mother's a.s.surance. There would be no difficulty in providing Richard with an alibi, he told the reporter from the New York World World, since he was sure that his brother had been in the presence of family members that day. "We know exactly where d.i.c.k was every hour of this particular Wednesday and he could not have done the thing the police are charging him with."17 The failure of either family to comprehend the gravity of the boys' situation translated into a complacency that over the next forty-eight hours was exposed as astonishing naivete. Both families expressed a wish to a.s.sist the state's attorney in solving the murder, yet neither realized, until it was far too late, that Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold had become the leading suspects. The families saw no reason to call in their lawyers to go to the Criminal Court Building to advise the boys. As a consequence, Robert Crowe had already had them in custody for almost twenty-four hours without yet making a formal arrest, and without even having to justify their continued detention.

Nathan Leopold's father was self-consciously complicit in the state's attorney's decision to hold his son for questioning. In response to an inquiry from a reporter from the Chicago Daily Tribune Chicago Daily Tribune, he expressed confidence in both the state's attorney's integrity and his son's innocence. "While it is a terrible ordeal both to my boy and myself to have him under even a possibility of suspicion, yet our att.i.tude will be one of helping the investigation rather than r.e.t.a.r.ding it.... And even though my son is subjected to the hardships and embarra.s.sment of being kept from his family until the authorities are thoroughly satisfied...yet my son should be willing to make the sacrifice, and I am also willing for the sake of justice and truth."18 Robert Crowe could scarcely believe his luck. Crowe was now sure that Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb were the murderers. All the clues pointed to that conclusion. Leopold's handwriting matched that on the envelope enclosing the ransom letter addressed to Jacob Franks; Leopold's eyegla.s.ses had been found near the corpse; the boys were lovers who had concocted an alibi that could not be confirmed; and at that moment, late on Friday afternoon, he was getting news that detectives had discovered typed legal notes belonging to Leopold that matched the typed ransom letter delivered to Jacob Franks the day after the murder.

Yet he continued to hold both suspects for questioning without any interference from either family! Eventually, Crowe thought to himself, one or both families would surely alert the lawyers to the boys' plight.

He had to get the boys to confess before their lawyers could shut their mouths. Neither boy had yet asked for a lawyer; neither boy had refused to answer his questions. How, therefore, could he wring a confession out of them, a confession that would surely send them to the gallows? And could he get that confession before lawyers for the boys appeared with a writ of habeas corpus?

CROWE RECEIVED HELP IN HIS task from an unexpected quarter. Two cub reporters from the task from an unexpected quarter. Two cub reporters from the Chicago Daily News Chicago Daily News, Alvin Goldstein and James Mulroy, had been following the case from the beginning. Goldstein had been at the morgue on South Houston Avenue after the discovery of the body; Mulroy had driven with Edwin Greshan from the Franks home to check the ident.i.ty of the boy lying on the undertaker's slab. Both reporters were recent graduates of the University of Chicago; they knew the campus well and still had many friends at the university.

They also knew Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb. Goldstein was a member of Zeta Beta Tau fraternity, and he and Loeb had become acquaintances during Loeb's postgraduate year at the university. Neither boy was then an undergraduate, but both boys spent time at the fraternity clubhouse, playing cards, swapping stories, and keeping up with fraternity gossip.19 Both Goldstein and Mulroy were surprised that Nathan and Richard were in police custody. But if Nathan was a suspect, could they match the typewritten notes for his law cla.s.ses with the ransom letter sent to Jacob Franks? Alvin Goldstein knew that Nathan had belonged to an informal study group at the law school; the boys in this group met each week to go over legal cases and type up a set of notes for the group. He asked around; sure enough, several boys had copies of the notes.20 It did not take Robert Crowe long to confirm the reporters' hunch that one typewriter, a portable Underwood, had been used for both the ransom letter and Nathan Leopold's legal notes. This was one link in the chain of evidence that Nathan would find difficult to break!

But to forge that link, Crowe needed to find the typewriter. If it was in Nathan's study, the case against Nathan would be sealed as tight as a drum.

Forty minutes later, the police were back at the house on Greenwood Avenue. William Shoemacher's men searched again through the study and bedroom. Nathan's aunt was puzzled; the police had taken away Nathan's Hammond typewriter earlier that day; did the detectives not know that it was already at the Criminal Court Building?

Shoemacher explained that he was looking for a second typewriter, a portable Underwood-had any of the staff seen Nathan using a portable typewriter? He questioned the maids-what could they tell him?

Elizabeth Sattler hesitated. She had worked for the Leopolds for four years; she liked her employer and was reluctant to hurt the family; but she had a strong sense of duty and the police captain was persistent. She stepped forward.

"Yes, that typewriter was here."

Shoemacher felt a thrill of appreciation at the words. The link was forged; the net was closing around Nathan. He looked directly at the maid.

"When did you see it last?"

"I seen it two weeks ago."

"Well, what became of it?"

"I don't know, it ought to be around here."21 The detectives searched everywhere for the Underwood, but it was not in the boy's bedroom or study; there was no sign of it in the library; there was no trace in any of the other rooms in the house. But Elizabeth's testimony was vital-the police may not have been able to locate the typewriter, but now they knew that it had been in the house only a few days before the murder of Bobby Franks.

THE QUESTIONING BEGAN AGAIN THAT Friday at 6:30 p.m. Both Nathan and Richard had woken up around three o'clock in the afternoon; the detectives had given them time to wash, to catch a bite to eat, and to prepare for the evening's interrogation before driving them back to the Criminal Court Building. Friday at 6:30 p.m. Both Nathan and Richard had woken up around three o'clock in the afternoon; the detectives had given them time to wash, to catch a bite to eat, and to prepare for the evening's interrogation before driving them back to the Criminal Court Building.

Joseph Savage, an a.s.sistant state's attorney working in Robert Crowe's office, asked Nathan about the portable typewriter. What could Nathan tell him about it? Nathan replied that he remembered having seen a typewriter at his house, but, of course, it was not his; it belonged, no doubt, to one of the boys in his study group.

During the winter and spring quarters at the law school, Nathan had studied with four friends at his house. In preparing for the first-year exams, it was usual practice among the students at the University of Chicago law school to study a number of cases, to winnow the points of law from each individual case, and to cla.s.sify them. The students even had a slang expression-"dope sheeting"-for this form of study; the law students would customarily discuss the princ.i.p.al points and type up a summary of the points on "dope sheets" for each member of the group.22 "The only typewriter other than my own," Nathan explained, "that I ever used in my home was a portable typewriter, what make I don't know, which I had there for a few weeks for the purpose of dope sheeting for law courses."

"Whose typewriter was that?" Savage asked.

"It belonged to one of the boys in the dope section; I am not sure which one."23 The five boys usually worked upstairs, in Nathan's study on the third floor, but occasionally they would gather in the downstairs library on the first floor. It was warmer and more comfortable in the library, and the lighting was better. If Nathan's father needed to use the library, then the little group of scholars would make for the third-floor study.24 One of his friends, Nathan explained, had brought the portable typewriter into his house. It was necessary because he kept the Hammond typewriter upstairs in his study and that typewriter was fixed on a special table; it was too c.u.mbersome and heavy to lug up and down two flights of stairs every time they wanted to work in the library.

So the study group had used the portable typewriter in the library. Who had brought it into the house? Again, Nathan was vague; he was not sure, but he thought it might have been Morris Shanberg.

WHILE N NATHAN CONTINUED TO ANSWER Savage's questions that evening, Crowe's detectives fanned out through Chicago to bring in the four boys. Shanberg and another student, Lester Abelson, both lived on the North Side of the city; Arnold Maremont and the fourth member of the group, Howard Oberndorf, lived in Hyde Park, near the university. Savage's questions that evening, Crowe's detectives fanned out through Chicago to bring in the four boys. Shanberg and another student, Lester Abelson, both lived on the North Side of the city; Arnold Maremont and the fourth member of the group, Howard Oberndorf, lived in Hyde Park, near the university.

By ten o'clock on Friday evening, all four were at the Criminal Court Building, waiting in offices adjacent to the state's attorney's rooms. In Crowe's office, Nathan was sticking to his story. In front of him, on a table, the police had placed three portable typewriters: a Corona, a Remington, and an Underwood. He was now sure, looking at the examples before him, that he had used an Underwood, but still he denied ownership-he was certain that the typewriter belonged to Morris Shanberg.

Robert Crowe had been waiting for this moment. He nodded slightly to a sergeant standing on the other side of the room; thirty seconds later, Shanberg, looking nervous, walked into the office. Crowe motioned him to sit down and gestured toward Nathan.

"Sit down, Shanberg. You know Nathan Leopold, Jr.?"

"Yes."

"You and Nathan have always been good friends?"