BestLightNovel.com

For The Thrill Of It Part 19

For The Thrill Of It - BestLightNovel.com

You’re reading novel For The Thrill Of It Part 19 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy

"Go out," he commanded, "and order us a big meal. Get us two steaks"-he held out his thumb and forefinger-"that thick!"

"Yes, and be sure," Richard chimed in, "they are smothered in onions. And bring every side dish you can find. This may be our last good meal."

"And," Nathan added, "bring chocolate eclairs for dessert."

At eight o'clock that evening, Nathan was fast asleep on his bunk. Richard sat smoking a cigarette, sitting on the edge of his bed, an unfinished novel lying beside him, watching through the bars of his cell as the guards patrolled the corridor. Detectives from police headquarters stood in the main lobby of the Cook County jail while uniformed police, in addition to the jailers, kept watch on the hallways and corridors.

Tomorrow they would leave on a dangerous journey to the Joliet penitentiary.



Feelings about the verdict ran deep in Chicago. It was a provocation that two pampered rich boys had gotten away with murder-every Chicagoan had hoped to see Leopold and Loeb swinging from the end of a rope. It seemed a travesty, an affront, that Bobby Franks was in his grave yet Leopold and Loeb were very much alive, eating chocolate eclairs and bantering with the journalists.

That evening Robert Crowe issued another statement. It was a provocative, inflammatory statement that said more about the boys' relations.h.i.+p than anyone had ever before publicly revealed; Crowe now gave substance to the rumor that Leopold and Loeb were h.o.m.os.e.xuals.

"In malice, premeditation, and deliberation the crime of these defendants is unequaled in the criminal history of the state. It is an atrocious and cold blooded murder...executed after months of planning and careful deliberation.... The evidence indicated acts of perversion between Leopold and Loeb extending over a long period of time. The evidence indicated that Loeb had committed other crimes...major crimes of a serious nature. Both defendants were known to have a.s.sociates of a loose and immoral character, and Loeb had a venereal disease at 15.

"Both had the reputation of being immoral...degenerates of the worst type.... The evidence shows that both defendants are atheists and followers of the Nietzschean doctrines...that they are above the law, both the law of G.o.d and the law of man.... The murder and kidnaping for ransom of 14 year old Robert Franks struck terror to the heart of every father and mother throughout the community.... It is unfortunate for the welfare of the community that they were not sentenced to death."32 Crowe might have waited until Leopold and Loeb were safely locked up in Joliet Prison before releasing his statement. Now he had magnified the prisoners' villainy and greatly increased the danger to their lives on the car journey from Chicago to the penitentiary. Would someone take Crowe's words as a license to kill? Would there be an ambush on the road to Joliet?

FEARS OF AN ATTACK PROVED exaggerated; no one ambushed the motorcade. But there was almost a nasty accident on the road; as the three-car convoy proceeded along the highway, the brakes on the lead car, a black Cadillac sedan, suddenly locked. Leopold and Loeb, traveling in the second car, a Packard limousine, at fifty miles an hour, received an unpleasant jolting-their driver swerved to avoid the Cadillac, veered off the roadway, and ended up on the adjacent tracks of the Chicago, Joliet and Elgin Railroad. They suffered only minor bruises, and after the sheriffs had pushed the Packard back onto the road, the motorcade proceeded once again to the penitentiary. exaggerated; no one ambushed the motorcade. But there was almost a nasty accident on the road; as the three-car convoy proceeded along the highway, the brakes on the lead car, a black Cadillac sedan, suddenly locked. Leopold and Loeb, traveling in the second car, a Packard limousine, at fifty miles an hour, received an unpleasant jolting-their driver swerved to avoid the Cadillac, veered off the roadway, and ended up on the adjacent tracks of the Chicago, Joliet and Elgin Railroad. They suffered only minor bruises, and after the sheriffs had pushed the Packard back onto the road, the motorcade proceeded once again to the penitentiary.33 As they approached the prison, they could see the high sandstone walls of the penitentiary illuminated in the headlights of the cars. A huge crowd waited by the large gates to greet the two celebrities; as the cars approached, a roar of recognition rose up from the mob. Sheriffs and prison guards battled to clear a path through the prison gates, and within seconds Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb were inside Joliet Prison.

[image]

27. LEOPOLD AND LOEB ENTER JOLIET PRISON. LEOPOLD AND LOEB ENTER JOLIET PRISON.

The lock in the center door clanked as the key was turned to shut out the world. The prison, first opened in 1858, was a forbidding place at the best of times; now, in the twilight, the ma.s.sive stone walls behind them and the steel-barred gates in front conspired to give the penitentiary a menacing, threatening atmosphere. Richard stumbled on a paving stone, but caught himself, as he stepped toward the first steel gate; Nathan looked around and noticed the prison guards staring silently down at them from a second-floor gallery, their rifles, cradled in their arms, pointing skyward.34 The warden, John L. Whitman, received the confinement papers from the Cook County sheriff, who turned to leave for the ride back to Chicago. It was already eight-thirty in the evening; there was no time tonight to go through the customary procedures-photographs, medical history, paperwork; those could wait for the morning. Three guards escorted the prisoners across the jail yard, past the shadowy form of the bakery on the left, and down a gravel path to the isolation block for new arrivals. The prisoners had ten minutes for a shower in the bathhouse and then a new set of clothes: Richard had discarded his golf sweater and gray flannel trousers and Nathan had removed his suit jacket and trousers; now the guards provided both prisoners with the standard prison uniform of blue denim jacket and pants.35 Both boys lay on straw mattresses in their cells-Nathan at the east end of the block; Richard, as far distant as possible, in a cell at the other end of the corridor. In the darkness, staring at the ceiling, not thinking to go asleep, but just running over the day's events, they could hear the murmur of the guards' voices in the corridor, beyond the cell bars.

Very soon both Nathan and Richard were fast asleep; they spent their first night in Joliet peacefully.

17 THE AFTERMATHI was asked in Pottsville whether L & L would ever get out. I replied that the law of Ill. permitted a pardon or parole after twenty years:-Whether they would ever get out no one could say.1Clarence Darrow, December 1924C-sort of hates to admit that he is NOT NOT rather well-off, after all the world supposing that he reaped rather well-off, after all the world supposing that he reaped such such a reward from the L-&-L case ooo, ooo, lalala-lalala-LA! while, in truth, for that he received LESS than for anything that took so much time and tissue out of him and his life. a reward from the L-&-L case ooo, ooo, lalala-lalala-LA! while, in truth, for that he received LESS than for anything that took so much time and tissue out of him and his life.2Ruby Darrow, n.d. (1925) LIFE IN PRISON! C CAVERLY'S DECISION, according to the editor of the according to the editor of the Newark Evening News Newark Evening News, was a travesty of justice. It would surely confirm the popular prejudice that even in a court of law, the rich could purchase the result they desired. "There is one law for those who can command unlimited resources and the highest legal talent, another for the poor devil who must take his chance with the best he can afford.... The machinery of justice in Illinois has once more operated to an end that comes close to accounting for the murder-ridden criminal record of Chicago."3 It was a theme endlessly repeated in newspaper editorials: money had subverted justice; wealth had done away with the principle that all were equal before the law. The crime had been atrocious, one that conspicuously deserved the death penalty, yet the defendants had escaped the scaffold solely because they had had the wherewithal to purchase the guile and ingenuity of Clarence Darrow. "In the criminal history of the country there is nowhere recorded a more cold-blooded, a more sinister and cruel murder than that of young Franks," the San Francis...o...b..lletin Bulletin declared. "It was done with extreme cunning by youths-one 19 years of age, the other 18-of exceptional education, intelligence and careful breeding. In the face of these facts Judge Caverly has given to Leopold and Loeb an 'easy sentence.'...Judge Caverly's verdict...will tend to a lowered confidence in our machinery of justice.... It is to be feared that it will augment a growing sense that there is one law for the obscure and another for the socially powerful." The editor of the declared. "It was done with extreme cunning by youths-one 19 years of age, the other 18-of exceptional education, intelligence and careful breeding. In the face of these facts Judge Caverly has given to Leopold and Loeb an 'easy sentence.'...Judge Caverly's verdict...will tend to a lowered confidence in our machinery of justice.... It is to be feared that it will augment a growing sense that there is one law for the obscure and another for the socially powerful." The editor of the Kansas City Post Kansas City Post warned that anarchists and other malcontents would point to the judge's decision as evidence of a divided society: "The theory that there is one set of laws for the rich and another for the friendless poor has received substantial support as a civil propaganda gnawing at the very vitals of national confidence and pride." warned that anarchists and other malcontents would point to the judge's decision as evidence of a divided society: "The theory that there is one set of laws for the rich and another for the friendless poor has received substantial support as a civil propaganda gnawing at the very vitals of national confidence and pride."4 But did the wealth of the defendants in fact have any influence on the decision? Caverly had based the sentence on only one criterion-the youth of Leopold and Loeb-and in his conclusion he had explicitly disregarded the psychiatric evidence. In this light, therefore, the efforts of Clarence Darrow and the testimony of the medical experts had been of no account and had no effect on Caverly's determinations. "What the lawyers did or said for the defense went for nothing," wrote the editor of the New York Times New York Times. "Judge Caverly simply ignored it. Had the youthful murderers been poor and friendless they would have escaped capital punishment precisely as Leopold and Loeb have escaped it. The Judge has effectually stopped the mouths of those who might have been inclined to complain that in Illinois there is one law for the poor and another for the rich."5 But was this not, nevertheless, an arbitrary decision? What was it about the youth of Leopold and Loeb that ent.i.tled them to escape hanging? There was no clause in the Illinois statutes that excused murderers younger than twenty-one from the death penalty. On what grounds did Caverly use their age as a reason to save Leopold and Loeb from the scaffold? Did Caverly believe that because they were nineteen and eighteen years old, respectively, their judgment was therefore necessarily inchoate and immature? Was their sense of responsibility necessarily diminished because they were still teenagers? Neither Leopold nor Loeb had shown any signs of immaturity in his academic career; moreover, the planning of the murder had demonstrated calculation and determination, qualities difficult to reconcile with immaturity. "It is narrow legalism to excuse Loeb and Leopold on the score of their youth," the St. Paul Dispatch St. Paul Dispatch argued. "In a formal sense they certainly do comply with the definition. They are, in years, youths and they did enter a plea of guilty. Yet, in any real sense they are not youths, their crime was not an outburst of youthful irresponsibility, and if they had not committed this crime no one would have judged them intellectually 'immature.'" argued. "In a formal sense they certainly do comply with the definition. They are, in years, youths and they did enter a plea of guilty. Yet, in any real sense they are not youths, their crime was not an outburst of youthful irresponsibility, and if they had not committed this crime no one would have judged them intellectually 'immature.'"6 At what point had Caverly arrived at his decision? He had known the age of each defendant at the beginning of the hearing. Had he determined, at that moment, that they were too young to hang? Surely not! "It is repugnant to all our concepts of law and justice," wrote the editor of the New York Sun Sun, "to suppose that a Judge, knowing that the law provided for capital punishment in certain cases, would take his seat to try these cases, predetermined not to inflict capital punishment." Yet it seemed equally unlikely that Caverly would suddenly decide, during the hearing, that the youth of Leopold and Loeb precluded the death penalty. It was a puzzle made even more inscrutable by the defendants' behavior in the courtroom, continued the Sun Sun. "During the trial Loeb and Leopold did not conduct themselves in a manner suggestive of youth. Neither indicated the least repentance for the shocking crime to which they had pleaded guilty.... Not once, we are sure, did either of the murderers impress anybody-except perhaps Judge Caverly-with his youth.... And yet it must have been during that period that the Judge, who had begun the trial knowing the ages of the defendants and knowing that capital punishment still existed in Illinois, decided within himself that...these murderers were too young to be hanged."7 And if murderers below the age of twenty-one should not be executed, should not all such murderers be spared? Why some and not others? Many youths had received the death sentence in Cook County for lesser crimes; many were now sitting in the Cook County jail awaiting execution. Should not those cases now be reviewed?

In the excitement attendant on the sentencing, everyone had forgotten about Bernard Grant, the nineteen-year-old convicted of the murder of Ralph Souders, the policeman guarding the A&P store on Morgan Street. But now the newspapers took up Grant's cause. Leopold and Loeb had escaped death, but Grant sat in Cook County jail awaiting his imminent execution. "Bernard Grant, of Chicago, is puzzled," the Detroit Free Press Detroit Free Press explained, "and what's bewildering him is this: Bernard is nineteen years old, just the age of Nathan Leopold. But while Leopold escaped the gallows on account of his 'youth,' Bernard is to be hanged by the neck until he is dead.... Bernard thinks this isn't fair. Yet it is all plain enough if only you get the right angle. Bernard Grant is a poor boy. He was obliged to quit school at fourteen in order to help support his family. Consequently, he never was able to save enough money to hire a high-priced, emotional lawyer who makes a specialty of cheating the gallows. When he got into trouble, he had to take what counsel he could get.... The very fact that Grant thinks an injustice is being done to him shows how inexperienced and unsophisticated he is. Without money, without influence, without ability to entertain the crowd, without opportunity to get the alienists to talking, and writing yards and yards of deduction largely buncombe, it was silly of him to think he ever had a chance." According to the explained, "and what's bewildering him is this: Bernard is nineteen years old, just the age of Nathan Leopold. But while Leopold escaped the gallows on account of his 'youth,' Bernard is to be hanged by the neck until he is dead.... Bernard thinks this isn't fair. Yet it is all plain enough if only you get the right angle. Bernard Grant is a poor boy. He was obliged to quit school at fourteen in order to help support his family. Consequently, he never was able to save enough money to hire a high-priced, emotional lawyer who makes a specialty of cheating the gallows. When he got into trouble, he had to take what counsel he could get.... The very fact that Grant thinks an injustice is being done to him shows how inexperienced and unsophisticated he is. Without money, without influence, without ability to entertain the crowd, without opportunity to get the alienists to talking, and writing yards and yards of deduction largely buncombe, it was silly of him to think he ever had a chance." According to the Cleveland Plain Dealer Cleveland Plain Dealer, a movement was afoot in Chicago to pet.i.tion the governor of Illinois to commute Grant's death sentence to life in prison. "There are murmurs in Chicago.... Grant is without education, son of a day laborer.... There is a feeling that the execution of the capital sentence will be a proof of the double standard of law-one law for the poor and another law for the rich."8 Would Clarence Darrow exert himself on behalf of Bernard Grant? Grant was as deserving as Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb-perhaps more so. Mary Grant, his mother, claimed that he had been wrongly identified and bitterly compared his fate with that of Leopold and Loeb: "My boy is innocent. He was home asleep when they say he killed the policeman.... They convicted my boy just the same.... What can we do? We were not able to hire alienists at $250 a day to say he is insane." Even the Chicago Daily Tribune Chicago Daily Tribune, the scourge of the criminal cla.s.s, now urged clemency for Grant-"if he hangs while Loeb and Leopold live, the inequality of our process of justice will be gross"-while simultaneously admitting that life in prison for the murderer of a policeman would, as a general rule, be a regrettable outcome.9 Grant did eventually win a reprieve-the governor of Illinois, Len Small, postponed the execution until he could decide whether to commute the death sentence. Yet criticism of Caverly continued unabated. The more one examined the judge's rationale, the more illogical it seemed. Caverly had claimed, in his summation, that life in prison for Leopold and Loeb would be more of a punishment than death. That a.s.sertion was debatable, to say the least, but more to the point, was it certain that Leopold and Loeb would spend the remainder of their days in the penitentiary, or was it more probable that sooner or later their lawyers would pet.i.tion the parole board for their release?10 The general condemnation of Caverly stemmed in great part from a widespread apprehension that somehow, by one means or another, the two killers would obtain an early release. Caverly himself had fueled such speculation by foolishly omitting to say whether the two sentences-life plus ninety-nine years-should run consecutively or concurrently. According to the Illinois criminal code, when a judge failed to state that two sentences were to be served consecutively, they would run concurrently, with the prisoner serving the longer of the two. "The law holds," declared Hinton Clabaugh, supervisor of pardons and paroles for Illinois, "that in case one sentence is longer than the other the longer one takes precedence.... Therefore it must be decided which is longer in the case of Leopold and Loeb-ninety-nine years or life. What can be longer than life?"

But if Nathan and Richard were serving life sentences, then, according to the statutes, they would both be eligible for parole after twenty years. They could, in addition, earn early release, at the discretion of the parole board, for good behavior. Either boy might be released from the penitentiary after just eleven years and three months! "I don't mean to say," Clabaugh concluded hastily, "that Leopold and Loeb will necessarily be out at the end of eleven years.... But I do say it is hard to see how their legal privileges can be denied them any more than to other convicts."11 Eleven years! That would make a mockery of the law! Could they really win their freedom as early as 1935? They would then be just thirty years old; neither would yet have even reached middle age.

Would the parole board, at some point in the future, remit the sentences? No one, in 1924, could predict the decisions of the parole board. But even if the board held firm and resolved that both Leopold and Loeb should remain behind bars, there was always the possibility that executive action by the governor of Illinois might result in their early release. The governor had the power either to grant a pardon or to commute the sentences. In response to inquiries from several journalists, a spokesman for the governor's office stated the const.i.tutional right of the executive to pardon the prisoners-"the governor...would be legally permitted to pardon Leopold and Loeb"-but hastened to add that Len Small had no thought of committing political suicide by releasing the two convicts.12 Despite such rea.s.surances the editorials continued their drumbeat against early release. The example of Harry Thaw was proof that even the most cynical and callous killer could eventually win his freedom. Thaw had spent several years in an asylum after his murder of Stanford White, but through the persistence of his lawyers he had won his release. Might not Leopold and Loeb do the same? The public demanded capital punishment for such crimes, the St. Louis Globe-Democrat St. Louis Globe-Democrat explained, precisely because a life sentence rarely meant permanent confinement. "There would be much more public satisfaction with the verdict if 'life imprisonment' meant imprisonment for life.... But in American practice it is rare that criminals under such a sentence of imprisonment are confined until the grave releases them.... We believe it is seldom, indeed, that 'life imprisonment' involves confinement for more than twenty years, and it is highly improbable that these men will be compelled to serve longer than that." explained, precisely because a life sentence rarely meant permanent confinement. "There would be much more public satisfaction with the verdict if 'life imprisonment' meant imprisonment for life.... But in American practice it is rare that criminals under such a sentence of imprisonment are confined until the grave releases them.... We believe it is seldom, indeed, that 'life imprisonment' involves confinement for more than twenty years, and it is highly improbable that these men will be compelled to serve longer than that."13 Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb would be able to buy favorable treatment in the penitentiary, and their lawyers would doubtless appeal their imprisonment and win their freedom. "In prison," the Atlanta Journal Atlanta Journal predicted, "the money behind Loeb and Leopold will lead to special favors for them. They will receive visitors, will publish their distorted views to the world, and will in every way attempt to feed fat the notoriety and public attention they have received these last few months." The judge had recommended life without the possibility of parole for the two defendants, but who could guarantee their perpetual punishment? The public memory of the killing would gradually fade away, and the defense attorneys would work diligently behind the scenes in favor of an early release. "Time alone will fix the merit of the life sentence pa.s.sed upon Loeb and Leopold," the Memphis predicted, "the money behind Loeb and Leopold will lead to special favors for them. They will receive visitors, will publish their distorted views to the world, and will in every way attempt to feed fat the notoriety and public attention they have received these last few months." The judge had recommended life without the possibility of parole for the two defendants, but who could guarantee their perpetual punishment? The public memory of the killing would gradually fade away, and the defense attorneys would work diligently behind the scenes in favor of an early release. "Time alone will fix the merit of the life sentence pa.s.sed upon Loeb and Leopold," the Memphis Commercial Appeal Commercial Appeal concluded warily. "If these boys are confined in the penitentiary the rest of their natural lives the ends of justice may be served, but if they are later pardoned those who do it will a.s.sault justice and disgrace their office." concluded warily. "If these boys are confined in the penitentiary the rest of their natural lives the ends of justice may be served, but if they are later pardoned those who do it will a.s.sault justice and disgrace their office."14 A handful of editorials pointed out that Caverly, by relying on precedent in reaching his decision, had exercised judicial restraint and resisted popular pressure. "A careful reading of the judge's opinion," the Birmingham Age-Herald Birmingham Age-Herald said, "shows that he kept entirely within the law of Illinois in his decision." It was an admirable demonstration of judicial fort.i.tude, said the said, "shows that he kept entirely within the law of Illinois in his decision." It was an admirable demonstration of judicial fort.i.tude, said the Charleston Gazette Charleston Gazette: "The verdict is in, and we hope that the recommendations of the man who was called upon to reach a momentous decision will be accepted with equanimity.... Justice Caverly acted with an eye to justice to all concerned and...his verdict was the result of the evidence submitted to him and the facts as he conceived them."15 But such opinions, praising Caverly for his independence from public opinion, counted for little when set against the tsunami of criticism that otherwise crashed down on him. The decision had been wrong on many counts, the editorials claimed, and it had been most pernicious in its effect on the public's perception of the legal system.

Caverly's inattention to detail-why had he not ordered the sentences to run consecutively?-had allowed the awful possibility that two notorious murderers might yet walk the streets of Chicago. Such a result would strip the law of its dignity and reveal justice as a pretense. According to the Louisville Courier-Journal Courier-Journal, "The Judge's refusal to subject these two fiends to the just penalty of the law will intensify general contempt for those whose duty it is to enforce the law and whose weakness in refusing to do their duty has done so much to bring the law itself into contempt. As long as our judges and juries as a rule are actuated by such tenderness to murderers as that of Judge Caverly...murders will multiply."16 And if the penalty was no more than a few years in the penitentiary, then there would surely no longer be any deterrent to murder. The murder rate in Cook County was already alarmingly high, warned the Chicago Daily Tribune Chicago Daily Tribune, and Caverly's decision would accelerate the trend upward. "The Franks case decision already has resulted in the commutation of penalties which, without it, would have been exacted without criticism and which accord fully with the law.... Murder has been made a less hazardous crime than ever and it was already one of the least hazardous.... The taking of life has become almost a commonplace. This represents a state of morals alarming to any one who considers the elements of civilized society. It is a condition which cannot be ignored safely and most certainly calls for a restoration rather than a further weakening of the safeguards civilization has had to create and maintain for the security of human life."17 Robert Crowe, in his closing speech in court, had cautioned Caverly that any sentence less than hanging would be an inducement to others to imitate Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb; and already, it seemed, Crowe's prediction had found confirmation in the vicious murder of Bessie Gaensslen, an elderly woman living alone in an apartment on the West Side of Chicago. Anna Valanis, eighteen years old, had confessed to the crime: she, along with three other teenagers, had broken into the woman's apartment looking for money. Bessie Gaennslen had fought back courageously but, predictably, her attackers had overwhelmed her. One of the four had knocked her to the ground; a second had jumped on top of her, holding down her arms to prevent her from struggling. Anna's brother, Anthony, nineteen years old, had strangled the victim with the telephone wire as his confederates looked on.18 The four teenagers were now in police custody, but they had no fear of the scaffold-they would ask the judge to appoint Clarence Darrow as their attorney; and Darrow would surely save them from execution. "We'll have the court appoint Mr. Darrow to defend us," Anna Valanis confided to the reporters. "We know our stuff; if we cannot hire a lawyer the judge must furnish us one and we want Darrow."19 Why, indeed, should anyone now fear capital punishment? It remained on the books, of course, but in practice it was ineffectual. The sentencing of Leopold and Loeb had created a precedent that would be impossible to overcome, and no prosecutor could any longer have confidence that he would win the death penalty in Illinois. Caverly's decision had lessened the deterrent to murder.

Yet not everyone was sure that Caverly had been wrong. Lawyers and jurists, reluctant to criticize publicly one of the most prominent judges in Illinois, were more cautious in their opinions. Louis Marshall, a leading member of the Chicago bar and a senior partner in Guggenheimer, Untermyer, & Marshall, believed that Caverly had presided over the courtroom with decorum and had reached a creditable result. "The proceeding adopted by Judge Caverly was proper," Marshall commented to a reporter from the Boston Daily Globe Boston Daily Globe. "The policy of our laws is not vengeance but protection of society from similar offences." John McIntyre, a judge on the Court of General Sessions, believed that "the judgment is a wise disposition on the part of the court." One of his colleagues on the Court of General Sessions, Cornelius Collins, stated that "Judge Caverly was in a better position to judge than any other person and that to him the judgment imposed was a solemn duty."20 Religious sentiment was divided equally between praise and condemnation. Caverly's decision, predicted Simon Long, the pastor of Wicker Park Lutheran Church, "will do more to make Bolshevists than anything that has happened in a long time. I fear its results upon society. It emphasizes the fact that only the poor may be hanged." Martin Luther Thomas, a representative of Deerfield Presbyterian Church, agreed that Caverly had fomented resentment against the wealthy in permitting "these men [to] escape the sword of justice because of their money and influence." But John Thompson, a minister of First Methodist Episcopal Church, disagreed, saying that the life sentence was the consequence of "a well-balanced, finely judicial decision." Johnston Myers, a spokesman for Immanuel Baptist Church, expressed satisfaction with the result if, of course, "there is to be no pardon and the boys will be treated like ordinary prisoners."21 Jewish opinion had been conspicuously absent throughout the hearing. No representative of the city's Jewish cultural inst.i.tutions had yet allowed himself to be quoted in the newspapers; no rabbi had made any comment on the murder or its aftermath. The killers were scions of two of Chicago's most prominent Jewish families-it was, no doubt, better to remain silent than to blunder inadvertently into a controversy that might harm the Jewish community still further. Only now, after sentence had been p.r.o.nounced, did the Jewish Daily News Jewish Daily News express its circ.u.mspect belief that the crime was a consequence of the materialistic age. "The fault lies in our entire aspect of life.... The insistence that all that counts is money, the piling up of wealth, the production of things that can be sold in the open market, the self-sufficiency of man that he owes no responsibility but to himself, the virtual dethronement of G.o.d-all these are responsible for what is transpiring.... Judge Caverly has not just p.r.o.nounced sentence upon the ill-starred youths. He has rendered a verdict against our present age. The truth is-and it must be faced-that our civilization is bankrupt." express its circ.u.mspect belief that the crime was a consequence of the materialistic age. "The fault lies in our entire aspect of life.... The insistence that all that counts is money, the piling up of wealth, the production of things that can be sold in the open market, the self-sufficiency of man that he owes no responsibility but to himself, the virtual dethronement of G.o.d-all these are responsible for what is transpiring.... Judge Caverly has not just p.r.o.nounced sentence upon the ill-starred youths. He has rendered a verdict against our present age. The truth is-and it must be faced-that our civilization is bankrupt."22 Psychiatrists and child guidance experts were unanimous in praising the judge. Caverly had ignored the psychiatric testimony in reaching his decision, yet prominent members of the medical community viewed the verdict as a victory for science and as an advance for the treatment of the mentally ill. Edward S. Cowles, a neurologist and director of the National a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Scientific Healing, said, "Judge Caverly has made a great forward step, and this affair should call attention to the need of more careful study of the child's mind and personality." A. A. Brill, the author of Fundamental Conceptions of Psychoa.n.a.lysis Fundamental Conceptions of Psychoa.n.a.lysis, believed, from reading the newspaper accounts, that "there is no possibility of curing these youths.... I approve of Judge Caverly's effort to make sure they will never go free. But they are sick and the whole basis of our civilization is to take care of the sick, not to kill them." Max Schlapp, a professor of neuropathology at the New York Postgraduate Medical School, contradicted Brill-"it is probable that they could be cured"-yet agreed that Caverly's decision had been correct.23 The medical experts who had partic.i.p.ated in the courtroom hearing-White, Glueck, Healy, Krohn, Church, and the rest-all refrained from commenting on the judge's decision. The psychiatrists for the defense had expected that their partic.i.p.ation in the case would lead to reform of the legal process, but their advocacy for change found few echoes outside the medical journals. A writer for the San Francisco Chronicle San Francisco Chronicle took up White's suggestion that psychiatric testimony be given in an impartial manner, and the editor of the Was.h.i.+ngton took up White's suggestion that psychiatric testimony be given in an impartial manner, and the editor of the Was.h.i.+ngton Evening Star Evening Star deplored the tainted psychiatric evidence-"neither the defense nor the prosecution should be permitted to becloud the issue and confine the minds of jurymen by offering expert opinions which are shaped by the source of the fees"-but such comments were few and far between. deplored the tainted psychiatric evidence-"neither the defense nor the prosecution should be permitted to becloud the issue and confine the minds of jurymen by offering expert opinions which are shaped by the source of the fees"-but such comments were few and far between.24

WILLIAM A ALANSON W WHITE, THE MOST prominent expert witness for the defense, was also the most vulnerable. White had built his public persona through his ability to take the middle ground between the psychiatric community, represented by the members.h.i.+p of such organizations as the American Psychiatric a.s.sociation, and a general readers.h.i.+p curious to learn about the new science of Freudian psychiatry. During the 1920s, White, more than any other American psychiatrist, was responsible for bringing psychiatry before a popular audience. prominent expert witness for the defense, was also the most vulnerable. White had built his public persona through his ability to take the middle ground between the psychiatric community, represented by the members.h.i.+p of such organizations as the American Psychiatric a.s.sociation, and a general readers.h.i.+p curious to learn about the new science of Freudian psychiatry. During the 1920s, White, more than any other American psychiatrist, was responsible for bringing psychiatry before a popular audience.

But his public career rested on his professional accomplishments, which depended in turn on his stewards.h.i.+p of St. Elizabeths Hospital. The Department of the Interior had formal jurisdiction over St. Elizabeths, and both the United States Senate and the House of Representatives had the authority to investigate conditions there. For some members of the House, White made an inviting target. He had been closely identified with Clarence Darrow's defense of Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, and, in the public mind at least, he was at least partially responsible for enabling the prisoners to evade justice. Rumors of an investigation into White's management of St. Elizabeths circulated through Was.h.i.+ngton during 1925. Not until April 1926, however, when Thomas Lindsay Blanton, a representative from Texas, charged that army veterans suffered from intolerable living conditions at St. Elizabeths, did Congress resolve to empower the comptroller general to investigate the administration of the hospital.25 His report appeared in December 1926. It was harshly critical of White's administration. There was a lack of recreational facilities for the patients, there was serious overcrowding on the wards, and there were inadequate safety measures in case of fire. White had transformed the hospital into a center of psychiatric research, yet the stated purpose of St. Elizabeths, the report noted, was to treat the mentally ill. Strictly speaking, White had exceeded his mandate as hospital superintendent by enlarging the role of the hospital; Congress had never intended it as a site for medical research. Finally, and most seriously, there was scant regard for the const.i.tutional rights of the patients-they had no access to disinterested legal or financial a.s.sistance.26 Despite the severity of the report, White survived. He had as many supporters in Congress as he had enemies, and his allies viewed the criticisms as politically motivated. White continued to win honors and acclaim in the psychiatric profession. In 1926 he was president of the American Psychoa.n.a.lytic a.s.sociation, and in 1930 he presided over the First International Congress on Mental Hygiene in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. He remained at St. Elizabeths Hospital until his death in 1937.27

PREDICTABLY, CLARENCE D DARROW ALSO RECEIVED public criticism for his role in saving Leopold and Loeb from the scaffold. Darrow was the villain of the piece-he had organized the defense and by means of the guilty plea had tricked the court into acquiescence. But Darrow, unlike White, could shrug off his enemies with practiced ease-he had become accustomed to such hostility and typically paid no attention to his detractors. public criticism for his role in saving Leopold and Loeb from the scaffold. Darrow was the villain of the piece-he had organized the defense and by means of the guilty plea had tricked the court into acquiescence. But Darrow, unlike White, could shrug off his enemies with practiced ease-he had become accustomed to such hostility and typically paid no attention to his detractors.

In any case he was too busy to respond. He had begun his campaign against capital punishment in October 1924, just weeks after the end of the hearing, and that fall he had already committed himself to a series of lectures and talks. Thousands turned out to hear him speak, and wherever he went, the crowds followed. In the wake of the Leopold-Loeb hearing, Darrow had regained his stature as a national celebrity. He always preferred to debate with a well-known public official; his opponent served as the foil for his jokes and gave him an opportunity to ridicule those who advocated the death penalty. His appearance at the Manhattan Opera House in New York that October was the highlight of his fall speaking tour. Alfred Talley, a judge on the Court of General Sessions, spoke in favor of a motion in support of capital punishment; Lewis Lawes, the warden of Sing Sing prison and an opponent of the death penalty, chaired the debate; Darrow spoke in opposition. The hall was packed to overflowing with an audience of 3,000 New Yorkers; hundreds more stood outside on 34th Street, hoping to catch a glimpse of Darrow as he left the building, and dozens of journalists were in attendance, ready to write up their reports for the morning newspapers. There was nothing new in Darrow's talk that evening-he repeated his criticisms of the electric chair and the scaffold, scolded those who believed in free will and moral responsibility, and ended his contribution to the debate with a ringing admonition that the barbarism of capital punishment be no longer a part of the penal code. "There isn't," Darrow concluded, "a single admissible argument in favor of capital punishment.... We believe that life should be protected and preserved. The thing that keeps one from killing is the emotion they have against it; and the greater the feeling of sanct.i.ty that the State pays to life, the greater the feeling of sanct.i.ty the individual has for life."28 Darrow's triumph in the Leopold-Loeb hearing now endowed his opinions with authority and gravitas. Darrow had no education or training in criminology other than that provided by his courtroom experience, yet the popular press accorded him the status of an expert on all questions connected with crime and the criminal justice system. Also, Darrow had no knowledge of science apart from that gleaned by reading popular texts, yet his p.r.o.nouncements on science, medicine, and psychiatry now found their way into the newspapers. New York politicians and business leaders had recently announced the construction of a neuropathic hospital-the first in the country-at a cost of more than $2 million for the treatment of the mentally ill. The founders of the new hospital sought, and received, Darrow's endors.e.m.e.nt of the plan as the most essential component of the campaign against crime. If mental defectives, Darrow stated, could be identified at an early stage and if treatment facilities were readily available, then the crime rate would rapidly fall. "This movement should be countrywide," Darrow a.s.serted. "The case of Loeb and Leopold is, after all, merely an isolated instance.... Modern science says that young mental defectives can be adjusted to meet the problems of life in a normal manner.... Correct diagnosis, proper treatment, and healthful environment and influences can bring about cures that, in their wider application, spell crime prevention."29 Darrow had launched his campaign against the death penalty in October 1924. Eight months later, on 25 May 1925, a special grand jury, meeting in Dayton, Tennessee, indicted John T. Scopes, a twenty-four-year-old science instructor, for teaching the theory of evolution to a high school biology cla.s.s. The trial of Scopes, Darrow believed, would pit science against ignorance, knowledge against superst.i.tion, secular thought against religious fundamentalism. It was a chance for Darrow to grab the national spotlight yet again, and so on 10 July, he found himself in the sweltering heat of a Tennessee courtroom leading the defense of Scopes against the forces of reaction.

Darrow lost the case-the jury found Scopes guilty. The defense had hoped to appeal the conviction to the United States Supreme Court and then, in front of a national audience, demonstrate that the Tennessee statute was unconst.i.tutional. But the Tennessee supreme court overturned the original conviction on a technicality; there was to be no appeal before a higher court. To the leaders of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) it seemed that their financial support of the defense attorneys had gone for naught-the statute remained on Tennessee's books, and the antievolution movement spread outward from Tennessee to other southern states. Mississippi (in 1926) and Arkansas (in 1928) both outlawed the teaching of evolution in public high schools.

The trial had been a disappointment for the ACLU, but for Darrow it had been a personal triumph. He had s.h.i.+fted the focus away from a defense of the const.i.tutional rights of the defendant-had it been legitimate for Scopes to teach evolution to his cla.s.s?-and toward a debate on the literal truth of the biblical account of creation. He had lured the prosecuting attorney, William Jennings Bryan, onto the witness stand. Bryan, like Darrow, was a larger-than-life character; he had been a presidential candidate in 1896 at only age thirty-six, had been a member of Woodrow Wilson's cabinet until his resignation in 1915, and was now a national spokesman for the fundamentalist movement. The confrontation between Darrow and Bryan was the centerpiece of the Scopes trial. Bryan, responding to Darrow's questions, was obdurate in his defense of the literal truth of the Bible; and Darrow, as a consequence, could compel Bryan to reveal to the world both his ignorance of modern science and his imprecise understanding of the Bible. Darrow emerged from the Scopes trial with his reputation intact and enlarged-he was now the darling of the intellectuals, the hero of the age, the voice of reason, and a spokesman for modern science and progressivism.30

WHILE C CLARENCE D DARROW'S FAME REACHED the stratosphere, Robert Crowe's reputation as state's attorney dwindled and diminished in the years following the Leopold-Loeb hearing. The murder rate in Chicago had doubled during Crowe's tenure as state's attorney yet the number of convictions in the courts had declined precipitously. Gangland killings were a daily event, and no one seemed able to stop the violence. Crowe now had seventy deputies on his staff, and his annual budget had increased by more than $100,000, yet the gunmen always seemed able to escape justice. the stratosphere, Robert Crowe's reputation as state's attorney dwindled and diminished in the years following the Leopold-Loeb hearing. The murder rate in Chicago had doubled during Crowe's tenure as state's attorney yet the number of convictions in the courts had declined precipitously. Gangland killings were a daily event, and no one seemed able to stop the violence. Crowe now had seventy deputies on his staff, and his annual budget had increased by more than $100,000, yet the gunmen always seemed able to escape justice.

A rumor began to be whispered in Chicago: was Robert Crowe or someone in Crowe's office secretly working with the gangsters? Had the mob corrupted the state's attorney or members of his staff?

On 27 April 1926, at eight o'clock in the evening, William McSwiggin, an a.s.sistant state's attorney who was one of Crowe's closest aides, emerged from the Pony Inn, a saloon on West Roosevelt Road in the town of Cicero, a few miles west of Chicago. As McSwiggin and his drinking companions walked toward their Lincoln automobile, a motorcade-five cars, one following closely behind another-moved slowly down the street toward them. As the fourth car pa.s.sed McSwiggin and his friends, there was a hail of bullets, fired from a machine gun. McSwiggin and two others died later that night; the remaining two escaped unhurt.

It soon emerged that McSwiggin had spent his final hours drinking with the leaders of the O'Donnell gang. Myles O'Donnell and his brother, Klondike, along with Tom (Red) Duffy and Jim Doherty, had been feuding with the Italian gangs over the control of the beer trade. Duffy and Doherty had died alongside McSwiggin that evening; the O'Donnell brothers had ducked behind a car and lived.

Why had McSwiggin been drinking with gangland leaders? Had he been working with the O'Donnells? Had the mobsters corrupted him? Could corruption have spread further within Crowe's department?

Robert Crowe pointed the finger of blame at Al Capone. The O'Donnells had been competing with Capone over control of the saloons and speakeasies in Cook County and Capone's men had struck back. The gunmen had intended to kill the O'Donnells, and McSwiggin had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Capone was responsible for the death of McSwiggin, Crowe a.s.serted, and most probably it had been Capone himself who had fired the machine gun.

But Crowe was never able to explain why a member of his staff had been drinking with prominent members of the Chicago underworld. Crowe seemed to have something to hide or, at the very least, seemed reluctant to reveal the truth. He pet.i.tioned the Cook County Criminal Court to impanel a grand jury investigation into McSwiggin's death but simultaneously ensured that his political allies controlled the grand jury. The findings of the grand jury were inconclusive. No one was ever indicted for the killing of McSwiggin.31 There never was any proof of collusion between Crowe's office and the criminal underworld, yet suspicion lingered. And by 1928, public sentiment against Crowe had hardened. He had been in office for eight years, and criminal violence in Cook County continued unabated. Crowe had hoped to be the Republican candidate for state's attorney a third time, in the elections in 1928, but his star, even within the Republican ranks, had dimmed and he failed to win the primary election. His opponent, John Swanson, a judge on the Circuit Court, defeated him handily. It was a welcome sign, according to the Chicago Daily Tribune Chicago Daily Tribune, that the public had finally given up on the political machine that Crowe had so carefully constructed. Everyone was tired of the bombings, shootings, kidnappings, and murders that had given Chicago the national reputation of a city of crime. "A machine which embraced all the jobs at the city hall...which had an army of workers in nearly every precinct, the most extensive machine organization in Chicago's history, was pushed into the ditch by a...group which had behind it nothing but public sentiment." Robert Crowe's political career was over. He had been forced out of office just four years after his prosecution of Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb.32

WHILE R ROBERT C CROWE FOUGHT HIS political corner against enemies inside and outside the Cook County Republican Party, Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb grew accustomed to the daily monotony of prison routine. The guards had put Nathan in a cell in the East Wing of Joliet Prison and, mindful that the two murderers be kept as far apart as possible, had sent Richard to the other side of the penitentiary, where he occupied a cell in the West Wing. political corner against enemies inside and outside the Cook County Republican Party, Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb grew accustomed to the daily monotony of prison routine. The guards had put Nathan in a cell in the East Wing of Joliet Prison and, mindful that the two murderers be kept as far apart as possible, had sent Richard to the other side of the penitentiary, where he occupied a cell in the West Wing.

The prison, now almost seventy years old, was a crumbling wreck. The prison complex was a grim gray edifice with ma.s.sive stone walls, enclosing a series of starkly cheerless buildings. An unhealthy, unpleasant odor permeated the cell blocks, and each individual cell-small, dark, claustrophobic, and slightly damp-was as repulsive a s.p.a.ce as one could imagine. There were no flush toilets, of course-in the mornings, before breakfast, each prisoner carried his waste in a bucket to a large trough in the prison yard. The architect had provided the cell blocks with windows so narrow that there was little natural light. It was unbearably hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter.33 Nathan remained at Joliet Prison only until May 1925, when he obtained a transfer to the new prison at Stateville, three miles north of the town of Joliet. The Stateville prison, built in antic.i.p.ation of the closure of Joliet Prison, consisted of four roundhouse buildings, each of which had an open tower in the center of a large s.p.a.ce surrounded by a circular arrangement of prison cells. The guards standing in the central tower could thus observe all the prisoners in their cells.34 Stateville was one of the most modern penitentiaries in the United States-its circular panopticon design was unusual and innovative-but discipline within the prison was almost nonexistent. The Illinois state legislature had provided the funds for prison construction but had omitted to ensure a decent wage for the prison guards-the monthly salary was only $100, and there was no pension plan-and, as a consequence, corruption was endemic among the staff. Any convict with money could buy any privilege he desired, and by the early 1930s, internal discipline at Stateville had pa.s.sed out of the hands of the prison administration. A dozen rival gangs competed for control of the prison. Each gang had constructed a motley collection of tar-paper shacks in the prison yard as its headquarters, and within these shacks the gangs operated whiskey stills, cultivated marijuana plants, and hired out the younger and more vulnerable prisoners as prost.i.tutes.35 Not until March 1931, after Richard Loeb had been transferred from Joliet Prison to Stateville, did Nathan and Richard live in the same prison. Neither joined one of the many gangs operating behind the prison walls, but both soon gained influence over their fellow prisoners and, at the same time, were able to curry favor with the prison administration.

Both had an education far in advance of the majority of the prisoners at Stateville. Nathan, in particular, showed an eagerness to use his education in the service of the prison management, willingly performing various clerical jobs. Under other circ.u.mstances his contributions might have seemed nugatory, but Stateville in the late 1920s and early 1930s had a woeful lack of paid clerical staff, employing just six people in administrative positions inside a prison that held almost 4,000 inmates. Nathan was not a model prisoner; he had an uneven disciplinary record at Stateville and was punished several times with solitary confinement. Yet successive wardens recognized his clerical talents as a valuable resource that helped the prison function more efficiently, and over time he won the confidence of the senior officers.36 [image]

28. STATEVILLE PRISON. STATEVILLE PRISON. The prison at Stateville opened in 1925. In its original form, the prison complex consisted of four cell blocks. A guard tower, surrounded by a circular arrangement of four tiers of cells, stood in the center of each cell block. This photograph was taken in 1931. The prison at Stateville opened in 1925. In its original form, the prison complex consisted of four cell blocks. A guard tower, surrounded by a circular arrangement of four tiers of cells, stood in the center of each cell block. This photograph was taken in 1931.

Frank Whipp, the warden at Stateville in the early 1930s, emphasized reform and rehabilitation in his management of the prison. A major purpose of the penitentiary, according to Whipp, was an end to recidivism. The sooner a prisoner demonstrated eligibility for parole, the better. Nathan Leopold quickly won his way into Whipp's good books. There was little possibility that Whipp would recommend Nathan's parole, but Nathan adopted Whipp's reform ideology and made sure that Whipp realized it. Nathan a.s.sisted the prison sociologist, Ferris Laune, in his attempts to determine the suitability of various categories of prisoners for early release and even published an article (under a pseudonym) on the subject in the Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology. Nathan received an appropriate reward for these efforts. By his own account, he soon had the run of the prison-he could go anywhere, and after 1933, he was infrequently subject to the disciplinary regimen imposed on other prisoners.37

RICHARD L LOEB WAS LESS EAGER to work in tandem with the prison administration. Yet he, too, quickly won a position of privilege within Stateville, in large part because of the money at his disposal. Richard kept a permanent deposit of $500 in the prison office. This sum, always made good by his brothers, was available for his personal use at any time. His parents, unaware that Richard had a private banking arrangement within the prison, sent him an additional fifty dollars each month. to work in tandem with the prison administration. Yet he, too, quickly won a position of privilege within Stateville, in large part because of the money at his disposal. Richard kept a permanent deposit of $500 in the prison office. This sum, always made good by his brothers, was available for his personal use at any time. His parents, unaware that Richard had a private banking arrangement within the prison, sent him an additional fifty dollars each month.38 Loeb used his money wisely, carefully bribing the prison guards to grant him privileges. He had keys to parts of the prison normally accessible to other inmates only at specific times of the day and on a restricted basis. Loeb was one of a small number of prisoners (Nathan Leopold was another) allowed to buy whatever he wished from the commissary; and he could, if he desired, eat his meals in the privacy of his cell. It was not even necessary, according to one account, for Richard to wear the prison uniform-he customarily wore a white s.h.i.+rt and flannel trousers.39 Richard's influence over the guards could be used in the pursuit of s.e.xual favors from other inmates. Convicts who were willing to have s.e.x with Richard might be rewarded with cigarettes, alcohol, a larger cell, and an easy job within the prison; but a prisoner who fell out of favor with Richard might find himself shoveling coal in the yard or laboriously weaving rattan chairs in the furniture shop.40 James Day, twenty-one years old, was serving a one- to ten-year sentence in Stateville for armed robbery when he first met Richard Loeb in 1935. Day was short, just five feet, six inches tall; weighed 135 pounds; and had a mottled, blotchy complexion. His life had been unsettled. He had never known his father, and his mother had died in 1921, when Day was just eight years old. He moved to Chicago to live with his uncle and aunt, but he proved to be a difficult child, constantly getting into trouble for fighting, thieving, and petty crime. He first attracted the attention of the police in 1928, at the age of fifteen; in that year the Juvenile Court ordered that he be held in St. Charles School for Boys, a reform school. He served a second sentence in the Boys' Reformatory at Pontiac. In 1935, not long after he reached his majority, Day graduated to a cell in Stateville Prison.

Richard took an immediate interest in Day's welfare. He arranged for the guards to transfer Day to C House, to a cell in the same gallery as his own, and he began sending Day presents-cigarettes and small gifts of money. The older man-Richard was now thirty-used his influence to get Day a job in the prison office building and hinted that he might even be able to get Day a parole hearing. It would not be difficult, Richard suggested, for a clever lawyer to make an effective appeal before the parole board on Day's behalf.

It was a calculated scheme, on Richard's part, to put Day in a dependent position so that he would agree to have s.e.x with Richard. Day resisted but Richard was persistent. He reminded Day that he might lose all his privileges; yet all he had to do was comply with Richard's request-would it not be better for Day to submit to his demands?

On the morning of 28 January 1936, George Bliss, a convict in C House, surrept.i.tiously pa.s.sed a straight razor to James Day. Bliss had stolen the razor that week from the barbershop and had successfully concealed it from the prison guards. Just after noon, a work detail began its march from the dining hall, the prisoners walking in double file under the supervision of a single guard. James Day was the last in line, and as his column moved through the prison, he slipped away. Earlier that day, Richard Loeb had mentioned that he would take a shower at noon, suggesting casually that Day might meet him at the shower room. Richard had a key and could lock the room from the inside, thus allowing them to meet in private.

Day was in an angry, violent mood. Richard had been pestering him for weeks, demanding that they have s.e.x, and threatening to withdraw all his privileges. He entered the shower room and saw Richard, naked, advancing toward him. Day struck at his tormentor with the razor, cutting him on the neck and abdomen, slas.h.i.+ng furiously, inflicting fifty-six wounds before turning away and leaving the room, his victim collapsed on the floor in a sea of blood.

Richard died later that day. The prison doctors worked furiously to save him, suturing the cuts, but Richard had lost too much blood. Nathan rushed from his cell to the prison hospital and watched helplessly as his friend, his companion, his lover, lay dying on the operating table. And when it was over, after the surgeons and doctors and prison guards had all left the room, Nathan remained behind, to wash the body, to gently cradle Richard's head in his arms, and to grieve silently over the loss of his companion.41 At the trial of James Day later that year, no one, not even Nathan, contradicted Day's account. The state's attorney had demanded the death penalty for the murder of Richard Loeb. Any convict who testified on the witness stand against Day would be responsible for sending him to the electric chair.42 Who among those prisoners who knew the truth would want to return to Stateville to face retribution for sending a fellow prisoner to his death? Richard Loeb had died; he could not be brought back to life. Better to allow Day to claim that Richard had demanded a h.o.m.os.e.xual encounter than to risk one's own life. The jury found Day not guilty on all charges. Who among those prisoners who knew the truth would want to return to Stateville to face retribution for sending a fellow prisoner to his death? Richard Loeb had died; he could not be brought back to life. Better to allow Day to claim that Richard had demanded a h.o.m.os.e.xual encounter than to risk one's own life. The jury found Day not guilty on all charges.

Few of the guards at Stateville believed Day's claim that he had acted in self-defense. Why, for example, had it been necessary for Day to stab Richard fifty-six times? And how had Day managed to emerge from their encounter in the shower room without a scratch or even so much as a bruise?

Richard's death had created an uproar outside the prison walls, and the revelation that Richard had corrupted the guards to obtain special privileges had deeply embarra.s.sed the new warden, Joseph Ragen. Nothing, Ragen now realized, would be more humiliating for the inst.i.tution than to have scandal touch Nathan Leopold also. As a consequence, Nathan found himself under severe scrutiny in case he, too, should step out of line. Ragen now decreed that Nathan should no longer have a cell mate; nor was he to walk around the prison without a guard to accompany him; and all his privileges were to be revoked.

The years following Richard's death were lonely, bitter years for Nathan. He was surrounded by hundreds of men, yet he keenly felt his social isolation within the prison. "These years after d.i.c.k's death," Nathan wrote in his autobiography, "were not altogether pleasant. Officially there were a number of restrictions on me, and these galled me a lot. It is never easy to get along in a situation where you stick out like a sore thumb.... The fact that I had to cell alone, that I had to be accompanied by a keeper-these were widely misinterpreted. They made it much harder for me to get along. And the fact that I brought 'heat' wherever I went didn't make it any easier."43 Yet Nathan survived and even began to contemplate the possibility of parole. To dream that he might win his release from Stateville had always seemed an impossible flight of fancy. Yet memories would eventually dim; his antagonists-Crowe's successors in the state's attorney's office-would eventually relax their grip, and perhaps Nathan could convince the parole board of his contrition for that terrible crime so long ago.

At the time of Richard's death in 1936, Nathan had already served twelve years-he would be eligible for parole on the life sentence in 1944, after serving a total of twenty years. The parole board would require him to proclaim his regret for the killing of Bobby Franks, of course, but that would not be difficult. He needed also to demonstrate, by good works if possible, that he had undergone rehabilitation: that he had atoned for his deed and that there was no like

Please click Like and leave more comments to support and keep us alive.

RECENTLY UPDATED MANGA

For The Thrill Of It Part 19 summary

You're reading For The Thrill Of It. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Simon Baatz. Already has 725 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

BestLightNovel.com is a most smartest website for reading manga online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to BestLightNovel.com