For the Thrill of It: Leopold, Loeb, and the Murder That Shocked Jazz Age Chicago Read Online Free PDF

plan unravel so quickly?
    It shocked him that the crime had been uncovered. They had assumed that the body would remain undisturbed—they had never anticipated its discovery so soon after the murder.

    T HERE WAS , R ICHARD ARGUED, no point in continuing with the ransom plan. Jacob Franks would soon learn that his son had been killed. If they attempted, nevertheless, to get the ransom, they ran the risk of being captured. Why take the chance? The police had no clues; why should they risk the possibility of capture?
    But Nathan would not give up. He had worked too long to abandon his plan now. Perhaps Jacob Franks had not heard the news. They might still get the money!
    They must hurry. The three o’clock train would leave from Central Station in twelve minutes. Jacob Franks might already be waiting with the ransom money at the Ross drugstore, adjacent to the train station, expecting instructions.
    They ran to the drugstore at 6734 Stony Island Avenue. Nathan fished for a telephone slug among his loose change and inserted it into the slot. He placed the call and waited impatiently. 7
    At the Ross drugstore, James Kemp, the porter, answered the phone. It had been a slow day; only a few customers had been in the store, and Kemp heard the phone ring with a sense of relief that something, if only a phone call, was breaking up the monotony of the afternoon.
    It was a man’s voice, asking the question, “Is Mr. Franks there?”
    Kemp looked around the store—at the front, he could see two women making a purchase from the pharmacist, Percy Van De Bogert, but otherwise the store was empty.
    “No,” he replied, “there is no Mr. Franks here.”
    There was a slight pause at the other end, and then the voice spoke again, in a low mutter, before hanging up: “Probably I have the wrong number.” 8
    Kemp shrugged his shoulders in disappointment; somehow he had expected more. Reluctantly, he picked up his broom to sweep away at the dust in the back of the store.
    Even Nathan now had to admit that there was no point any longer in pursuing the ransom. Jacob Franks was not at the drugstore—perhaps he had never left his house; perhaps he knew already that his son was dead.
    And, in any case, the Michigan Central train had now left Central Station and would soon be at the 63rd Street station. Obviously Jacob Franks would not be on the train.
    Their grand adventure was over—there was nothing more to be done except return the rental car.
    It suddenly seemed so anticlimactic; disappointment hung in the air as they drove silently downtown, to the rental office on Michigan Avenue. 9

    T HEY ARRIVED BACK AT K ENWOOD shortly after four o’clock.
    At the Loeb house on Ellis Avenue, Leonard Tucker, the family chauffeur, greeted Richard as he reached the front door. Tucker was leaning against a car in the driveway, absorbed in reading a newspaper, and as Richard approached, he showed him the news about the discovery of a boy’s body in swampland south of the city. It was a terrible crime, Tucker exclaimed; the newspapers were reporting that the kidnappers had mutilated the body before stuffing it into a drainage culvert. 10
    At the Leopold house, everyone was talking about the murder when Nathan arrived home. His father was still downtown, working at the office, but Nathan’s brothers were home, reading the newspapers in the living room, devouring the details of the murder, calling out comments to their aunt in the dining room, and speculating on the identity of the killers.
    Nathan felt tense and uncomfortable listening to his brothers gossiping about the murder; he felt a slight nausea in his stomach—perhaps it was the tension that had accumulated throughout the day, or perhaps it was the failure of their plan—and he excused himself; he was going out to the corner store for a soda. He would be back in a few minutes.
    As he walked along Ellis Avenue, Nathan spotted a familiar figure walking toward him: a young-looking, rather plump