For The Thrill Of It Part 8

AS THE CAR MADE ITS way out of the park, the bell clanging to clear a path through the crowd of onlookers trying to peer into the car window, Walter Sullivan asked Nathan about the murder. Whose idea had it been? And who had wielded the chisel to strike the deathblows? Had Nathan initiated the plan, or had it been Richard's idea? way out of the park, the bell clanging to clear a path through the crowd of onlookers trying to peer into the car window, Walter Sullivan asked Nathan about the murder. Whose idea had it been? And who had wielded the chisel to strike the deathblows? Had Nathan initiated the plan, or had it been Richard's idea?

The mere mention of Richard Loeb was sufficient to send Nathan into a tantrum of anger and indignation. He was still furious that Richard had blamed him for the murder-Richard's treason had been a cruel blow to Nathan's love. "It was all Loeb's idea," Nathan replied, bitterly, "he planned the kidnaping."

The car had now left Jackson Park and was threading its way through the streets of the South Side, out toward the Michigan City road.

"It was Loeb...who enticed the boy into the car and it was Loeb who struck him on the head the next instant." Nathan played nervously with the unlit cigarette in his hand, turning it through his fingers. "I could not-it would have been physically impossible for me to have struck the blow that killed Robert Franks. Loeb knows this too.... My repugnance to violence is such that I could not have killed Robert.... He thinks that by proving me the actual slayer he will eventually go free."

Nathan paused; he leaned his elbow against the car window and stared at the houses as they pa.s.sed. It had been a bitter blow, he acknowledged, knowing that Richard was willing to sacrifice him to preserve his own skin.

But his mood lasted only a minute. They pa.s.sed the South Sh.o.r.e Country Club and then a golf course-what a ridiculous game, Nathan remarked!-and Nathan was soon his old self again, joking and bantering with the reporter. He leaned over and touched Sullivan lightly on the knee and sat back in his seat with a grin on his face, "Now you're contaminated," he joked. "You've been touched by a murderer."

Sullivan smiled politely. He wondered how Nathan felt about the killing. Granted that Richard had struck Bobby with the chisel, nevertheless, he asked, how had Nathan felt about the boy's death?

It didn't concern him, Nathan replied. He had no moral beliefs and religion meant nothing to him: he was an atheist. Whatever served an individual's purpose-that was the best guide to conduct. In his case, well, he was an intellectual: his partic.i.p.ation in the killing had been akin to the desire of the scientist to experiment. They had killed Bobby Franks as an experiment; Nathan had wanted to experience the sensation of murdering another human being. It was that simple.

"A thirst for knowledge," he explained to Sullivan, providing a helpful a.n.a.logy to the murder of Bobby Franks, "is highly commendable, no matter what extreme pain or injury it may inflict upon others. A 6-year-old-boy is justified in pulling the wings from a fly, if by so doing he learns that without wings the fly is helpless."27

IN THE OTHER CAR, Richard Loeb, sitting in the rear seat beside Morrow Krum, talked of his plans after prison; he would serve some time, of course, but eventually he would get out, and then he would make a fresh start. "I'll spend a few years in jail and I'll be released. I'll come out to a new life. I'll go to work and I'll work hard and I'll amount to something-have a career." Richard Loeb, sitting in the rear seat beside Morrow Krum, talked of his plans after prison; he would serve some time, of course, but eventually he would get out, and then he would make a fresh start. "I'll spend a few years in jail and I'll be released. I'll come out to a new life. I'll go to work and I'll work hard and I'll amount to something-have a career."

"But you have taken a life," one of the detectives interrupted, in surprise. "You've killed a boy. The best you could possibly expect would be a life sentence to an insane asylum."

Richard's hands fluttered nervously; he searched his pockets for his cigarette case. The loss of his liberty was an unpleasant thought, and confinement in an asylum seemed especially grim. Krum asked him a question about Nathan Leopold; Richard answered with a sense of relief at the change of subject.

"Of course he is smart. He is one of the smartest and best educated men I know."

Had Nathan influenced Richard? Had Nathan controlled Richard and led him into the crime?

"Well, I wouldn't say that exactly," Richard paused to reflect on the question. "Perhaps he did dominate me.... Leopold suggested the whole thing.... I went along with him.... Well it was sort of that way after all.... I guess I yessed Babe a lot."

What was their relations.h.i.+p? The reporter pressed Richard, fis.h.i.+ng for a headline for tomorrow's paper. How close was Richard to Nathan? Did Richard have many girlfriends at the university?

"Girls? Sure I like girls. I was out with a girl on Friday night after the affair...."

"Was Babe a pervert?" Krum interrupted suddenly, using the family nickname for Nathan Leopold.

Richard shook his head indecisively, suddenly cautious about saying too much. "I don't know anything about that."28 Twenty minutes later, the cars had reached the village of Hessville. It was only another mile before they came to the spot where the police antic.i.p.ated finding Bobby Franks's belt. Richard eventually found it, buried under some dirt, in the field adjacent to the copse. It still seemed almost new, a blue belt, with thin red and yellow stripes running down the center and a gold-plated buckle.29

THAT S SUNDAY AFTERNOON, AROUND TWO-THIRTY, Nathan Leopold Sr. met with Robert Crowe at the Criminal Court Building. He was concerned, he told the state's attorney, that his son had confessed under duress. He accepted Crowe's a.s.surances that there had been no beatings, but perhaps the detectives had intimidated Nathan in some other way. Nathan had been in custody since Thursday afternon-three full days-without access to a lawyer; how could the family be certain that he had received fair treatment? Nathan Leopold Sr. met with Robert Crowe at the Criminal Court Building. He was concerned, he told the state's attorney, that his son had confessed under duress. He accepted Crowe's a.s.surances that there had been no beatings, but perhaps the detectives had intimidated Nathan in some other way. Nathan had been in custody since Thursday afternon-three full days-without access to a lawyer; how could the family be certain that he had received fair treatment?

Crowe could see the agitation on the old man's face. His visitor seemed nervous and confused, and considerably more deferential than Crowe had antic.i.p.ated. He observed the old man closely. Nathan Leopold Sr.-with his thick salt-and-pepper mustache, his jowly neck and large ears, his watery eyes behind large rimless eyegla.s.ses-bore little resemblance to his son. There was, Crowe decided, scarcely the faintest similarity between father and son.

"Just sit down, Mr. Leopold; I will have the boy brought in."

Nathan seemed in good health; he entered the room confidently and shook his father's hand.

"h.e.l.lo, Dad."

"h.e.l.lo, my son." The old man turned to the state's attorney. "Could I talk to this boy myself, privately?..."

"Just at this particular time I cannot do it."

"Is that true, Mr. Crowe, that a parent may not have the opportunity to talk to his child?"

"I want to give you an opportunity to...ease your mind as to the boy's well-being.... He is not being abused...but at this particular time I do not think it is proper for me to permit [the] two of you to talk together."

"Mr. Crowe, he may tell me things in my presence that he might be diffident about telling when others are present. In other words, if I ask him of the treatment he got, he might hesitate to answer when these people around here have been working on him, and he might tell me things that might be private in that respect.... Of course, you realize, I suppose...it is the duty of a parent to stand by his child."

"Absolutely; and it would not be natural that you did not."

"I want him to get every opportunity that everybody else would get under similar circ.u.mstances. If he is ent.i.tled to counsel, he should have it. If it is not proper for him to talk without counsel, then my advice to him would be not to talk. Is that correct? That is what you would tell a son, isn't it?...In other words, if you have const.i.tutional rights, they should be accorded you."

But the state's attorney would not be moved. There was no legal requirement that he allow father and son to converse in private. He would release Nathan only after a writ of habeas corpus had been filed, and that would not happen until tomorrow morning, when the courts opened.

The interview was over, Crowe announced. The old man would have to leave his office. Nathan Leopold Sr. squeezed his son's hand for a brief moment, retrieved his coat and hat from an adjacent chair, and without a word to Crowe, left the room.30

CROWE WAS IMPATIENT TO BEGIN the examination. That morning he had found three psychiatrists willing to join the prosecution. He had asked them to come to the Criminal Court Building to examine Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb. the examination. That morning he had found three psychiatrists willing to join the prosecution. He had asked them to come to the Criminal Court Building to examine Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb.

Hugh Patrick was the first to arrive at Crowe's office. Patrick was sixty-four years old but seemed younger, no doubt because his manner-alert, energetic, and attentive-belied his age. His face was nondescript, neither fat nor thin, nor particularly memorable, save for his luminous blue eyes behind gold-rimmed eyegla.s.ses. His snow white hair had receded but still retained a vestigial presence. He seemed the most amiable of men, someone who managed simultaneously to appear both authoritative and approachable.

Patrick had obtained his medical degree at Bellevue Hospital Medical College in New York; had completed postgraduate studies in Germany, Austria, France, and Britain; and, in 1894, had joined the medical faculty at Northwestern University as an a.s.sistant professor of nervous and mental diseases. Within the medical profession, Patrick soon won a national reputation as the founder and first editor of the leading journal for neurology, Archives of Neurology and Psychiatry Archives of Neurology and Psychiatry. His affable manner and easy sociability gained him many friends and subsequently ensured his election as president of the Chicago Neurological Society, trustee of the Chicago Medical Society, president of the Inst.i.tute of Medicine of Chicago, section chair of nervous and mental diseases of the American Medical a.s.sociation, president of the Mississippi Valley Medical a.s.sociation, and, last but not least, president of the American Neurological a.s.sociation. In his spare time, Patrick served as a consultant neurologist to the Illinois Charitable Eye and Ear Infirmary, Wesley Memorial Hospital, St. Anthony Hospital, and the Illinois Eastern Hospital for the Insane at Kankakee. In 1924 he was a leader of his profession, the author of many articles and books, and an emeritus professor at Northwestern.31 Patrick introduced himself to Nathan. He looked around Crowe's office: it was a large room but spa.r.s.ely furnished. There was a heavy oak desk in the center of the room, covered with papers and doc.u.ments. In one corner there was a watercooler, and scattered around the room were about a dozen chairs, some metal, some wood, but neither one of which resembled its neighbor.

Hugh Patrick and Nathan Leopold chatted together while the stenographer, Elbert Allen, sat to one side, scribbling their remarks in shorthand into a notebook. They could hear a bustle in the outside corridor, but inside the office they were alone; even Robert Crowe had left the room, and none of his a.s.sistants were to be seen.32 A second psychiatrist, William Krohn, arrived at the Criminal Court Building at five minutes past three; Thomas O'Malley, chief of staff in the state's attorney's office, ushered Krohn into the room.33 Krohn was short and stocky, a compact bulldog of a man with a full head of white hair and an aggressive, confident demeanor. He invariably wore a dark bow tie, a crisp white s.h.i.+rt, and a well-cut gray suit. Krohn was fifty-six years old. He had received his PhD in psychology from Yale University in 1889 and, after postgraduate studies in Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, he had eventually secured a position as a clinical psychologist at the Illinois Eastern Hospital for the Insane. Krohn had remained at Illinois Eastern Hospital for seven years, establis.h.i.+ng a psychological testing laboratory at the asylum for the evaluation of patients. He had taught successively at Clark University and the University of Illinois, and in 1899 he moved to Chicago to set up a private psychiatric clinic. Krohn simultaneously enrolled as a medical student at Northwestern University, where he studied in the department of nervous and mental diseases. After graduating from Northwestern in 1905, Krohn served frequently as a medical juror and as a member of the insanity commissions of the Cook County Criminal Court.34 He was a familiar sight at the Criminal Court, frequently testifying in high-profile cases on the sanity of the defendants. His 1924 textbook Insanity and the Law: A Treatise on Forensic Psychiatry Insanity and the Law: A Treatise on Forensic Psychiatry, cowritten with H. Douglas Singer, had made his reputation as an expert on the legal aspects of psychiatry. As a consequence, Krohn was in great demand in the Chicago courts as an expert witness.

ROBERT C CROWE HAD ASKED THE psychiatrists to the Criminal Court Building to evaluate Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold. Crowe antic.i.p.ated that the defense in the coming trial would most probably be a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity; he therefore aimed to counter the defense through an evaluation by the state's psychiatrists that Leopold and Loeb were sane. psychiatrists to the Criminal Court Building to evaluate Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold. Crowe antic.i.p.ated that the defense in the coming trial would most probably be a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity; he therefore aimed to counter the defense through an evaluation by the state's psychiatrists that Leopold and Loeb were sane.

So far, everything had worked brilliantly for Crowe; he had used his custody of Leopold and Loeb, first, to extract a confession from both boys; second, to link them irrevocably to the evidence; and third, to enable his psychiatrists to evaluate Leopold and Loeb while both boys were still cooperating with the police.

It would be futile, Crowe believed, for Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb to deny their guilt on evidentiary grounds. Even if they claimed to have confessed under duress, Crowe had the physical evidence linking them to the murder: the rental car, the rope, the chisel, and, perhaps very soon, the typewriter. Neither Loeb nor Leopold had a credible alibi for the afternoon and evening of Wednesday, 21 May. It seemed impossible for the boys to deny that they had killed Bobby Franks.

A plea of not guilty by reason of insanity also seemed improbable-neither Leopold nor Loeb displayed any sign of mental derangement-but what alternative was there?

It would be difficult even for Leopold and Loeb to claim to have acted under temporary insanity. They had meticulously planned the murder for six months, paying close attention to detail, arranging to collect the ransom while avoiding capture, establis.h.i.+ng false ident.i.ties, and purchasing the necessary items. And after the deed had been done, they had carefully hidden the corpse, disposed of Bobby's clothing, and cleaned the rental car. Clearly the murder was neither an impulsive act nor a crime of pa.s.sion.

Illinois law followed the British legal system in the determination of insanity. According to the McNaughten rule, adopted in Britain in 1843, an individual was considered insane if he or she had committed the act while not knowing its nature and quality or not knowing that it was wrong. Blame does not attach to the act, and punishment is inappropriate, because insanity deprives the individual of the free will to choose between right and wrong.

But how could one determine that a defendant was incapable of distinguis.h.i.+ng right from wrong? Insanity was often not self-evident or obvious; only a psychiatrist with specialized medical knowledge could make that determination satisfactorily.

The defense attorneys would, no doubt, bring psychiatrists into court to testify that the defendants were insane. Crowe, therefore, needed to rebut the defense testimony through expert witnesses who would demonstrate that the defendants could distinguish right from wrong.

All the better, of course, if Nathan and Richard would confess their legal responsibility for the murder in the presence of the state's psychiatrists and the other witnesses. The psychiatrists' task would be facilitated if Nathan and Richard admitted that they were able to distinguish right from wrong and hence that they were legally sane. How could the defense lawyers enter a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity if Leopold and Loeb admitted their legal responsibility?

AT HALF PAST THREE, Archibald Church, the third psychiatrist, finally arrived. Archibald Church, the third psychiatrist, finally arrived.35 Church, fifty-three years old, cut an impressive figure. He took great pride in his appearance and was always meticulously dressed. He habitually had a rather melancholy expression; his large green eyes gazed out from a slightly bulbous face. He was courteous to a fault; indeed, his colleagues at Northwestern University Medical School found Church slightly pompous and aloof.

Church had received his medical degree from the College of Physicians and Surgeons in Chicago in 1884, and after four years' service as the a.s.sistant superintendent at the Illinois Northern Hospital for the Insane at Elgin, he had joined the medical faculty at Northwestern. He remained at Northwestern throughout his career as a professor of mental diseases and medical jurisprudence and held joint appointments as professor of neurology at the Chicago Policlinic and consulting neurologist at Michael Reese Hospital. Church was a leader of his profession, with a national reputation for his research in neurology. He had served as vice president of the American Neurological a.s.sociation and as the section chair on mental and nervous diseases for the American Medical a.s.sociation. He was the author of many articles and books, most notably the standard textbook in the field, Nervous and Mental Diseases Nervous and Mental Diseases, cowritten with Frederick Peterson of Columbia University.36 Church nodded a greeting to Hugh Patrick and William Krohn; he sat down with them in the center of the room, a few feet from Robert Crowe's desk. The office was beginning to fill up as more people arrived. Crowe's a.s.sistants-John Sbarbaro, Joseph Savage, and Milton Smith-talked quietly among themselves in one corner of the room. Michael Hughes and William Shoemacher sat to one side, waiting. The stenographer was there: Elbert Allen was still transcribing the informal conversations between Nathan and the psychiatrists. George Murray, a detective with the Illinois Central Railroad, had found a chair near the door; John Wesner, a physician, sat by his side, reading some notes from his briefcase; and Thomas O'Malley, the chief of staff a.s.signed to Crowe's office, walked in and out of the room, checking that everything was in order.

Robert Crowe had followed Church into the room. The state's attorney had brought Richard Loeb with him. Now that the psychiatrists had arrived, Crowe prepared to start the examination.

Robert Crowe turned to Richard Loeb first.

"Go ahead and tell the story in your own way. Begin at the beginning."

"Well, I don't remember just exactly when it was." Richard paused to look at Nathan. "Leopold here says it was in November...that he first talked to me about this; and I don't remember just how it came about, we had been discussing crimes, and so forth." Richard hesitated again; he was aware that everyone in the room was watching him closely. "We talked it over, and about the possibilities of it.... The crime, if it was to be committed plausibly...could not be done unless there was some way of getting the money."37 Richard began to relax; soon he was speaking more coherently, telling how they had planned the kidnapping, carried out the murder, and disposed of the evidence. Richard claimed that Nathan had struck Bobby Franks; Nathan vehemently denied the accusation, but in all other respects he agreed with Richard's account.

Crowe waited patiently for Richard to finish speaking.

"Let me," Crowe began, "first ask one or two questions. Then we will hear from the other boy. The motive of this, you say, was what?"

"I don't know," Loeb replied hesitantly.

"You had money in the bank?"

"Yes," Loeb replied. "It was a seeking of adventure; money entered into it some, in a way, but I think the main thing was the adventure of the thing, and the-" Richard paused and shook his head indecisively.

"Oh, G.o.d, I don't know, when I come to think about it."

William Krohn broke in: "Had you made arrangements that you were to divide the money, at all?"

"Yes, the money was to be split up."

"Split even, fifty-fifty?"

"Yes."

"Had you planned how you were to use the money in any way?"

"We arranged that [the] money was not to be used in the city of Chicago or in this country for a year. Leopold had intended to go to Europe, and it was arranged he could spend the money in Europe if he wanted to."38 Richard Loeb admitted that the ransom money was not a sufficient motive for the murder. The ransom had added a element of complexity to the affair, but otherwise it was not important. The murder seemed inexplicable to him now; he had no satisfactory answer as to the motive.

"I feel so sorry. I have asked myself that question a million times. How did I possibly go into that thing?"

Hugh Patrick looked across at Nathan. "You cannot trace the original nucleus of it, can you, Mr. Leopold?"

"Yes, sir, I think I can," Nathan replied, decisively. "I am sure, as sure as I can be of anything, that is, as sure as you can read any other man's state of mind, the thing that prompted d.i.c.k to want to do this thing and prompted me to want to do this thing was a sort of pure love of excitement, or the imaginary love of thrills, doing something different; possibly...the satisfaction and the ego of putting something over.... The money consideration only came in afterwards, and never was important. The getting of the money was a part of our objective, as was also the commission of the crime; but that was not the exact motive."39

IF R ROBERT C CROWE WAS TO win a hanging verdict, he would have to convince the jury that the murder was a rational act. But what possible motive could there be for such a senseless murder? Neither Leopold nor Loeb had any especial reason to kill Bobby Franks. Richard Loeb had disliked his cousin, certainly, but not to any serious extent; Nathan Leopold had not even previously known Bobby. win a hanging verdict, he would have to convince the jury that the murder was a rational act. But what possible motive could there be for such a senseless murder? Neither Leopold nor Loeb had any especial reason to kill Bobby Franks. Richard Loeb had disliked his cousin, certainly, but not to any serious extent; Nathan Leopold had not even previously known Bobby.

In any case, both boys had claimed that they had selected Bobby by chance. He happened to be walking south on Ellis Avenue as they had driven by in the w.i.l.l.ys-Knight. The victim might have been any one of a dozen boys in the vicinity of the Harvard School.

Could money be the motive for the killing? This, too, seemed implausible. Both Leopold and Loeb received generous monthly allowances. They did not lack money-why would they commit such a grievous crime for a relatively minor sum?

Could the desire for a thrill be the motive for the killing? Was it, as Nathan had stated to the reporters, akin to a scientific experiment whereby they could experience the sensation of killing another human being? But Crowe knew he could not claim that the murderers were sane and, at the same time, ask a jury to believe that they had killed a fourteen-year-old boy solely for the thrill of the experience.

It was, Crowe realized, a serious difficulty for the prosecution. The boys were rational and coherent-they displayed no signs of mental illness-yet they had committed an apparently irrational act. Indeed, the murder seemed to pa.s.s so far beyond the expected course of events as to force the conclusion that the perpetrators were insane. No matter how hard one looked, it was impossible to discover a rational motive for the killing of Bobby Franks.

NEITHER L LEOPOLD NOR L LOEB COULD adequately explain the murder; yet both willingly admitted their responsibility. There was no equivocation or ambiguity in this regard, at least: both had known, when they killed Bobby, that murder was wrong and both admitted that they could distinguish right from wrong. adequately explain the murder; yet both willingly admitted their responsibility. There was no equivocation or ambiguity in this regard, at least: both had known, when they killed Bobby, that murder was wrong and both admitted that they could distinguish right from wrong.

Archibald Church had said little so far; now he turned to Nathan to ask him about his sense of criminal responsibility for the killing.

"Mr. Leopold, when you made this plan to do the killing, you understood perfectly your responsibilities in the matter?"

"My answer is, yes, sir."

"The criminal act for which certain penalties were provided, and all that?"

"Yes, sir."

Church returned briefly to the question of motive. Perhaps, he suggested, they had wanted to demonstrate their superiority over the Chicago police.

"Were you actuated by a motive to put over some such thing as this without being detected, as it were, to put one over on the detective forces?"

"That I am sure was a large part of Mr. Loeb's att.i.tude, and I think it was a small part of mine. Sort of egotism."40 Robert Crowe brought the questioning back to the boys' sense of responsibility; he turned, this time, to Richard Loeb.

"Mr. Loeb, do you know the difference between right and wrong?"

"Yes, sir."

"You think you did the right thing in this particular matter?"

"In the Franks case?"