For the Thrill of It: Leopold, Loeb, and the Murder That Shocked Jazz Age Chicago by Simon Baatz
Authors: Simon Baatz
Tags: United States, General, History, Biography & Autobiography, True Crime, 20th Century, Biography, Non-Fiction, Chicago, State & Local, Law, Murderers, Murder, Criminals & Outlaws, Case studies, Legal History, WI), Illinois, Midwest (IA, ND, NE, IL, IN, OH, MO, MN, MI, KS, SD
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it was on to Jackson Park to show the detectives the spot where Nathan had thrown the typewriter into the outer harbor. And then out onto South Shore Drive, stopping briefly at 73rd Street to retrieve the partially burned automobile blanket, before traveling out of the city on the Michigan City Road, turning at Forsyth Avenue and onto Hopp Road, where, Richard told the police, they would find the shoes, belt buckle, and class pin belonging to Bobby Franks. 22
I N C HICAGO, A SMALL CROWD of onlookers had already gathered at the front entrance of the Criminal Court Building. The spectators never spotted either Nathan or Richard, but they did see, at around two o’clock in the afternoon, four distinguished-looking gentlemen, all dressed in dark suits and with somber expressions, enter the building.
Milton Smith, an assistant state’s attorney, met with the four men—the father, Nathan Leopold Sr.; a brother, Michael Leopold; an uncle, Jacob Loeb; and the Leopold family lawyer, Benjamin Bachrach—but was unable to let them see Robert Crowe. The state’s attorney was still driving around Chicago with Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold.
When would they be back? Smith was not sure: sometime that afternoon, perhaps. But in any case, he warned, it was unlikely that they would be able to see either Crowe or the two boys. The state’s attorney would release them only on a writ of habeas corpus and the courts would not open again until Monday morning. Whatever else happened, Smith cautioned, both Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold would remain in police custody until then. 23
T HE NEXT DAY, S UNDAY , 1 June, promised to be bright and sunny. The humidity had dropped and the storms that had broken over the city during the week had now rolled on farther west, across the plains and out toward the Pacific. Ruby Darrow lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was not yet seven o’clock and her husband, Clarence, was fast asleep, snoring contentedly. Ruby turned on her side and lifted herself on her elbow to look across at Clarence. His face was lined, his hair had thinned and had long ago turned gray, and his cheeks now sagged with age, but Ruby thought he was still an adorable man, an immensely comforting and reassuring presence in her life.
Suddenly she heard the ringing of the front doorbell. Who could it be so early on a Sunday morning? They did not expect visitors, and in any case no one would presume to visit at such a time. There it was again! The bell had an urgent, persistent tone, as though the visitor would not be denied.
Ruby climbed out of bed to put on her dressing gown and slippers. The bedroom was at one end of their seven-room apartment, and the front door was at the other end of a long corridor along which Ruby now walked, fastening the cord of the gown around her waist as she made her way toward the sound of the bell.
She opened the door. Four men stood before her. Ruby recognized Jacob Loeb, the former president of the Board of Education, but who were the others? Ruby Darrow had not seen them before.
Jacob Loeb bustled into the apartment. He seemed in a desperate hurry.
“We’ve got to see Clarence Darrow! Is he here?”
“Mr. Darrow is asleep.” In an effort to save her Sunday for herself and her husband, Ruby lied to the interlopers. “He isn’t well—he should not be disturbed.” But Loeb had already pushed his way past her. He now stood in the hallway; his companions had advanced forward behind him.
Clarence Darrow had made his way along the corridor and now suddenly appeared in the vestibule. His presence electrified the men standing before him. Jacob Loeb rushed across to shake his hand in greeting, and the three others clustered around Darrow in eager anticipation.
“Thank heavens you are here!…You must save our two boys.”
Darrow had known that Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb were in police custody, but he had been away from Chicago the previous day, getting into the city late on Saturday
I N C HICAGO, A SMALL CROWD of onlookers had already gathered at the front entrance of the Criminal Court Building. The spectators never spotted either Nathan or Richard, but they did see, at around two o’clock in the afternoon, four distinguished-looking gentlemen, all dressed in dark suits and with somber expressions, enter the building.
Milton Smith, an assistant state’s attorney, met with the four men—the father, Nathan Leopold Sr.; a brother, Michael Leopold; an uncle, Jacob Loeb; and the Leopold family lawyer, Benjamin Bachrach—but was unable to let them see Robert Crowe. The state’s attorney was still driving around Chicago with Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold.
When would they be back? Smith was not sure: sometime that afternoon, perhaps. But in any case, he warned, it was unlikely that they would be able to see either Crowe or the two boys. The state’s attorney would release them only on a writ of habeas corpus and the courts would not open again until Monday morning. Whatever else happened, Smith cautioned, both Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold would remain in police custody until then. 23
T HE NEXT DAY, S UNDAY , 1 June, promised to be bright and sunny. The humidity had dropped and the storms that had broken over the city during the week had now rolled on farther west, across the plains and out toward the Pacific. Ruby Darrow lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was not yet seven o’clock and her husband, Clarence, was fast asleep, snoring contentedly. Ruby turned on her side and lifted herself on her elbow to look across at Clarence. His face was lined, his hair had thinned and had long ago turned gray, and his cheeks now sagged with age, but Ruby thought he was still an adorable man, an immensely comforting and reassuring presence in her life.
Suddenly she heard the ringing of the front doorbell. Who could it be so early on a Sunday morning? They did not expect visitors, and in any case no one would presume to visit at such a time. There it was again! The bell had an urgent, persistent tone, as though the visitor would not be denied.
Ruby climbed out of bed to put on her dressing gown and slippers. The bedroom was at one end of their seven-room apartment, and the front door was at the other end of a long corridor along which Ruby now walked, fastening the cord of the gown around her waist as she made her way toward the sound of the bell.
She opened the door. Four men stood before her. Ruby recognized Jacob Loeb, the former president of the Board of Education, but who were the others? Ruby Darrow had not seen them before.
Jacob Loeb bustled into the apartment. He seemed in a desperate hurry.
“We’ve got to see Clarence Darrow! Is he here?”
“Mr. Darrow is asleep.” In an effort to save her Sunday for herself and her husband, Ruby lied to the interlopers. “He isn’t well—he should not be disturbed.” But Loeb had already pushed his way past her. He now stood in the hallway; his companions had advanced forward behind him.
Clarence Darrow had made his way along the corridor and now suddenly appeared in the vestibule. His presence electrified the men standing before him. Jacob Loeb rushed across to shake his hand in greeting, and the three others clustered around Darrow in eager anticipation.
“Thank heavens you are here!…You must save our two boys.”
Darrow had known that Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb were in police custody, but he had been away from Chicago the previous day, getting into the city late on Saturday
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