Review of Franks Case Step by Step
One of World's Most Sensational Crimes Uncovered After Watched Failed.
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Source: Chicago Daily News, 10 September 1924, pg. 3.
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If Tony Minke's watch hadn't stopped, the Franks murder story might have been different. But it did stop on the night of May 21, and to get it fixed Tony set out across lots from his home in Roby, Ind., through the swampy wilderness that marks the Chicago boundary out that way.
As he sloshed along, thorugh the muddy, weedy waste, he chanced to notice a peculiar something inside a culvert near 118th street. It was a white something shaped strangely like a human body.
Tony hesitated, and the fates of a dozen persons balanced on the edge of disaster. Then curiosity got the better of his wish to hurry along. He plunged through the muck toward the culvert—and the balancing fates toppled over the brink.
Found Bobby Franks' Body
Twenty seconds later he was dragging to light the naked body of 14-year-old Bobby Franks, son of a wealthy retired pawnbroker of Hyde Park.
Minke supposed, though—and so did the police—that the bruised, muddy body was that of some young alley rat, who had been killed in a fight, or while swimming. "Unidentified boy" was the entry in the police report and the coroner's record.
Meanwhile, int eh home of Jacob Franks, at 5052 Ellis avenue, a frantic father, a heartbroken mother and a few friends were sitting nervously near a telephone, praying that it would ring. Their Bobby was in the hands of a strange kidnaper—a person of unmistakable education—who called himself George Johnson. He was safe, George Johnson had assured them ina letter recieved early in the morning, and would be delivered at his father's door just as soon as $10,000 had been paid over, in accordance with instructions to be telephoned at 1 p.m.
Disappeared After School.
Bobby had disappeared the afternoon before. He had been at the Harvard school, a private institution not far from his home, all day, and had been seen leaving the school playground just before dusk. That much Jacob Franks had learned. But he hadn't covered the few blocks between playground and school. Somewhere in that little stretch of Ellis avenue "George Johnson" had met him.
At first, in the worry over Bobby's disappearance, Jacob Franks had called on the police for help. But "George Johnson" had written that the boy would be killed if word reached the police, and so the father had resolved to play out the hand alone. He had $10,000 "in old bills" all ready. As soon as the phone rang, he would pay.
While he sat there waiting, word of the kidnaping reached The Daily News. A reporter went to the Franks home and was told what had happened, under promise of secrecy. He suggested that someone look at the body of the unidentified boy, but the Franks family refused to admit the possibility of murder. Bobby was safe. They would pay, and "George Johnson" would bring him back.
And it did seem a little preposterous to suppose that the body in the morgue was that of Bobby Franks. A policeman, hunting around in the swamp for clues, had found a pair of horn-rimmed glasses belonging to the slain boy, he supposed. And Bobby Franks never had worn glasses of any kind, his father said.
Reporter Made Identification.
The reporter was persistent, though. He took a photograph of Bobby out to the morgue, returned with a frightening report. An uncle of the kidnaped boy went back to the morgue with the reporter, and saw for himself. Bobby Franks had been murdered, probably before his kidnaper wrote the encouraging ransom letter.
"George Johnson" telephoned, as he had promised, but it was too late. And in the excitement Jacob Franks forgot where the kidnaper had directed him to go, so the likeliest of the scanty clues in the case was lost.
It was late in the afternoon of May 22 before the news of the murder got out, but by night the greatest manhunt in the history of Chicago was on.
It was reported that Bobby Franks had been seen getting into a gray Winton car and every owner of an automobile of that make and color found himself the object of his neighbor's suspicions. Dozens of car owners were arrested and questioned. Typewriter experts said that the "George Johnson" letter had been written on a portable typewriter and it became almost unsafe to carry such a typewriter through the streets.
Suspicion centered, however, on two instructors in the Harvard school. They were held prisoners for days and subjected to "third degree" torture, they afterward charged, by State's Attorney Crowe and his staff. But nothing could be proved against them and at last they were set free.
Meanwhile Almer Coe & Co., opticians, had been trying to trace ownership of the horn-rimmed glasses found near the body. Experts had determined what the prescription might have been and clerks were busy checking over records. Eventually four were found that exactly fitted the case.
Leopold First Suspected.
The names were turned over to the state's attorney. Three of them never have been revealed, but the fourth was that of Nathan F. Leopold, Jr., son of a wealthy manufacturer, living at 4751 Greenwood avenue, only a few blocks from the Franks home.
State's Attorney Crowe had admitted that he believed Leopold innocent. Wealthy, intellectually advanced, a winner of scientific distinction in ornithology, Leopold seemed an unlikely suspect. And he told a frank and disarming story.
His closest friend, Richard Loeb, son of Albert H. Loeb, vice-president of Sears Roebuck & Co., was called in too. But Loeb was just as pleasant about it as Leopold, and seemed as unlikely a suspect. His home was just across the street from the Franks home, at 5017 Ellis avenue. Bobby had often played in the Loeb yard. Impossible that he could have had a hand in the murder.
The state's attorney politely asked the boys to go over the facts with him in every detail, explaining that he felt it his duty to do so. They politely agreed.
Alibi Seemed Perfect.
Leopold even admitted ownership of the spectacles, after going home and looking for them. But the alibi he and Loeb offered seemed faultless, in spite of the admission. They had been out in one of the Leopold cars, a red Willys-Knight, the night of the murder, they said, in company with a could of girls, whose names they didn't learn.
Then two reporters for The Daily News dug up clinching evidence. From classmates of Leopold they obtained specimens of typewriting done on the machine used by the author of the "George Johnson" letter. The classmates said Leopold had once owned a portable Remington.
Almost at the same moment Sven Englund, the Leopold chauffeur, told the state's attorney that he had worked on the red Willys-Knight long into the evening of May 21. The car wasn't out of the garage that night, he said.
Those two blows ruined the boys' elaborate alibis. "My God," Loeb cried, when he learned of Englund's statement, "can that be true?" Within a few minutes he was confessing.
Confession Came Quickly.
Loeb's confession brought Leopold's. At daybreak on May 29 State's Attorney Crowe emerged from his office to announce the startling news. "We have the murderers of Bobby Franks."
Indictments were voted quickly, and on June 11 the boys were arrainged before Chief Justice Caverly on two charges punishable by death—murder and kidnaping for ransom. Clarence Darrow and Walter and Benjamin Bachrach, the defense lawyers, entered pleas of not guilty. The case was set for Aug. 4, with the stipulation that motions be ready for presentation July 21.
[End of news article]
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Page compiled: 6 June 1997
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