by Noel Behn
“The baby is better than it was. It is happy and well. Number One told me I should tell you the baby is well. So put an ad in the Home News Sunday, like this, to show Number One that I gave you the message, ‘Baby is alive and well.’ And put this in too, ‘Money is ready,’ to show my friends I saw you and you will pay the money.”
The papers had been filled with stories on Henry (“Red”) Johnsen, who was being held as a possible suspect in the kidnapping. He was the boyfriend of the missing baby’s nursemaid, Betty Gow. Condon now asked if Johnsen and Gow were implicated.
John reacted emotionally for the first time in their conversation. “Red Johnsen is innocent. He must be freed. The girl too! Red Johnsen had nuitting to do wid it. It was worth my life to come here, and now it seems you don’t druts me. Don’t you believe that we are the ones who gottit the baby—that we are the ones who should gottit the money? Now I go. I will sent by ten o’clock Monday morning a token.”
“The sleeping suit from the baby.”
The two men were standing, and Condon told John, “I will put the ad in the Home News tomorrow.”18
They shook hands and parted—with Condon not knowing if John was Scandinavian or German. There was something else Condon did not know, because he had not been shown the previous ransom messages received by Lindbergh and Breckinridge or told what they contained. In the letter sent to Breckinridge, the extortionist had made a claim John also revealed to Condon in the cemetery: The crime had been planned for a year.
On the twelfth of March, as Prohibition indictments against Spitale and Bitz made the newspapers, the commissioner of the New York Police Department, Edward Mulrooney, let reporters know that Lindbergh’s “personal secretary,” Morris Rosner, had once been indicted on three counts of land fraud. If, as reported, Lindbergh and Breckinridge were infuriated by the commissioner’s statement, which Henry took to be malicious, they couldn’t have found much solace on learning of Rosner’s latest ploy: He implied to reporters that he, Spitale, and Bitz were merging forces with the greatest mobster of them all, Al Capone.
In 1930, “Scarface” Al Capone was the most powerful and compelling gangster in the world. A strutting cock who gloried in the spotlight, his net worth was estimated at twenty-four million dollars, and he was earning another one million a month. In October of 1931, no one was more surprised than Big Al when a federal court in Chicago found him guilty of income tax evasion and sentenced him to eleven years in prison.
At the time the Lindbergh baby was reported stolen on March 1, Al had been in jail four months, pending his appeal of the eleven-year sentence. Word of his anger at the child’s being kidnapped was in several March 2 newspapers. Reports over the subsequent few days had him offering to help find the infant. The Wednesday, March 9, New York Mirror, which said Al had ordered Spitale and Bitz into the case, also stated that Capone was said to have underwritten any and all expenses incurred by the two underworld emissaries, including payment to the kidnappers of any ransom moneys they expected to recover. According to the article, Capone’s involvement in the case was mentioned to Lindbergh as early as Saturday, March 5, by a delegation of Chicago police officers attending the manhunt conference in Trenton called by Governor Moore. The New York American of March 11 announced that Capone had been interviewed by Arthur Brisbane, editorial director of the Hearst papers, to whom he said that he would do anything in his power to get the baby back and that no one was more capable of achieving this than he. Al, however, pointed out that there was little he could accomplish while sitting in a jail cell. If he were at liberty for a time, he was certain he could get results and was willing to post a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bond to guarantee he would return to incarceration after his release. The New York Daily News echoed Capone’s comments the next day. The paper also reported that an airplane was standing by at Newark Airport to take Max Silverman, a New York bondsman, to Chicago with more than two hundred thousand dollars in bonds to secure Big Al’s release. U.S. Attorney General Mitchell said that no such request for Capone’s release had been received by the Justice Department.
The same morning that the New York Daily News article appeared, Rosner, Spitale, and Bitz met with Lindbergh and Breckinridge to argue the merits of enlisting Capone’s help in recovering the child. They didn’t claim that Al had the infant or knew his whereabouts, but they were confident that with his manpower and connections, Capone would soon have the baby back home. What’s more, Al would pay the ransom. All that was needed was to secure a temporary release from jail for him, something Rosner and his associates were sure Lindbergh and Breckinridge could arrange with ease. And what did Big Al expect in return for his services? Only a small favor, such as a pardon or commutation of his sentence or parole. Lindbergh and Breckinridge said no to the plan, making it one of the few times they had rejected what appeared to be a promising contact with the kidnappers.19
Rebuffed by the two colonels, Rosner, Spitale, and Bitz went to Thayer, who doubted that anything could be done to secure Al’s temporary release or meet his other conditions. Rosner explained that getting Spitale and Bitz to approach Capone was his “ace in the hole” should the kidnappers refuse to negotiate as a result of the mistake caused by Breckinridge’s failure to take him into his confidence regarding the fourth ransom note. Also pressured by Spitale and Bitz, Thayer said he would look into what could be done for Capone but gave no guarantees.
Just who was leaking information to the press about Spitale, Bitz, and Capone remained moot, but someone had been, and the papers that day also published a statement by H. Norman Schwarzkopf in response to a question about the mobsters:
The Police have not issued any request for the assistance of any of the characters mentioned. In the honest desire, however, to accomplish the return of the baby they will welcome information of any kind leading to its recovery regardless of the source.
The identity of all people disclosing information leading to the recovery of the baby, whether the information be valuable or not, will be treated with confidence. This confidence is guaranteed in this circular and we will adhere strictly to it.20
At 6:00 P.M. Thayer, who was manning the phone at the Lindbergh house, received a call from the United Press informing him that Rosner had made a statement to the Associated Press saying he had definite knowledge that the baby was safe and well and that he would be returned to his parents in a few days. The UP reporter had assured Thayer that the AP reporter who ran the story was reliable. Confronted by Thayer, Rosner explained that the AP reporter had gained admission to his apartment under false pretenses and at the conclusion of the conversation had asked, “Do you think the baby is still alive.” Rosner claimed he was shocked by the question and answered, “Of course. We have always hoped that the baby was alive and well.”21
Early the next morning, Sunday March 13, under intensive questioning by Thayer, Rosner admitted that to date Owney Madden, Spitale, and Bitz had not been able to locate the child but that they might yet succeed. Called into a conference later in the day with Lindbergh and Thayer, Rosner repeated in substance what he had told Thayer earlier but denied that he ever said that Madden, Spitale, and Bitz had failed in the effort to find the Eaglet. Rosner’s new position was that even though Madden, Spitale, and Bitz had never admitted in so many words that they had made contact with the kidnappers, they might very well be in touch with them and for whatever their reasons they were not yet letting anyone know.
At the onset of his involvement in the case, Rosner had told Breckinridge that if an organized gang had the child, the underworld would produce it, and no ransom would be paid. He had also said that if the child wasn’t held by the underworld, this, too, would be found out, thereby narrowing the possibilities of where he might be. Lindbergh and Breckinridge now agreed with Thayer’s conclusion that, one, the gangs had failed to recover the infant and, two, Rosner, by dropping a word here and a word there, was giving the impression they were in contact with the kidnappers, which would facilitate
his and his associates’ taking credit even if the Eaglet were returned through other channels than the underworld.22
A Thursday, March 17, story in the New York Mirror stated that Morris Rosner, “man of super mystery” in the shadowy group that included Spitale and Bitz, was definitely informed at Hopewell by a spokesman for Lindbergh that he could consider his official relationship with the search for the baby at an end. Despite what the article said, Morris would find a way to stick around.
Between March 7 and March 17, Mrs. Evalyn Walsh McLean had waited at either her house in Washington or her country home, Far View, in Bradly Hills, Maryland, expecting the baby to be brought to her. Gaston B. Means offered various excuses for the delays, including that the kidnappers were having a difficult time getting through the heavy police ring drawn around the baby. To avoid the police-encirclement problem, Mrs. McLean suggested the delivery be made to her summer home in Aiken, South Carolina. Means agreed. On March 18, he requested an additional four thousand dollars for expenses. Mrs. McLean provided the money. Two days later she and her retinue of servants set off for South Carolina to await delivery of the baby.23
On returning home from his March 12 cemetery meeting with John, Jafsie Condon had told Henry Breckinridge that when his request to see the infant was denied, he had demanded assurances that John and his gang had the Eaglet, and John had volunteered to send them the child’s sleeping suit. He further reported to Breckinridge that John’s gang, wanting to be sure they were dealing with the authentic Dr. Condon, had given Jafsie the wording of a message he was to place in the papers.24
Reporters going over the personal ads in the New York American on Monday, March 14, came across the same notice that had appeared in the Bronx Home News the day before:
Money is ready. No cops. No secret service no press. I come alone like the last time. Please call Jafsie.
On Wednesday, March 16, the post office delivered a soft package to John F. Condon’s home. Breckinridge denied Jafsie’s request that they wait for Lindbergh to arrive and carefully undid the brown-paper wrapping. Inside was a neatly folded one-piece sleeping suit. The bundle also contained a long message that was written in a familiar hand on the front and back of a piece of paper and bore the signature of interlocking circles and perforations:
Dear Sir: Ouer man faill to collect the mony. There a no more confidential conference after we meeting from March 12. Those arrangemts to hazardous for us. We will not allow ouer man to confer in a way like befor. circumstance will not allow us to make transfare like you wish. It is impossibly for us. wy shuld we move the baby and face danger. to take another person to the place is entirely out of question. It seems you are afraid if we are the right party and if the boy is allright. Well you have ouer signature. It is always the same as the first one specialy them 3 holes.
Now we will send you the sleepingsuit from the baby it means 3 $ extra expenses because we have to pay another one. please tell Mrs. Lindbergh not to worry the baby is well. we only have to give him more food as the diet says.
You are willing to pay the 70000 note 50000 $ without seeing the baby first or note. let us know about this in the New York-American. We can’t do it other ways because don’t like to give ouer safty plase or to move the baby. If you are willing to accept this deal put these in paper.
I accept mony is redy
ouer program is:
After 8 houers we have the mony received we will notify you where to find the baby. If there is any trapp, you will be
responsible what
will follows.25
Wearing a disguise, Lindbergh left his estate and slipped past reporters. He reached Condon’s house in the Bronx at 1:30 A.M., Thursday, March 17, and examined the garment at great length before pronouncing, “This is my son’s sleeping suit. I wonder why they went to the trouble of having it cleaned.”
“What?” asked Breckinridge.
“The sleeping suit, it has been cleaned before being sent here. I wonder why?”26
When Breckinridge and Condon offered no answer, Lindbergh said, “We must pay the ransom as soon as possible. There should be no delays. After all, this man has kept his word with us throughout. And he knows that we’ve kept our word. I will not permit any schemes to trap him. He wants the money. And if he gets it, I see no reason why he won’t keep his end of the bargain and return my boy.”
Jafsie was still of the opinion that the baby should be seen before money changed hands and that mention of this be made in their response. Lindbergh dismissed the old man’s suggestion saying, “We’re going to play by their rules. Run the ad they want.”
The March 17 notice in the New York American read as follows:
I accept. Money is ready. John, your package is delivered and is O.K. Direct me. Jafsie
The kidnappers had specified only that the ad be placed in the American. Thanks to Jafsie Condon, it also ran in the Bronx Home News, as had been the case with all the previous messages.
12
Open Secrets
Despite official denials, reporters knew a ransom note had been found the night of the kidnapping. Many of them correctly reasoned that Lindy might follow the established practice used by kidnappers and relatives of a stolen victim and negotiate for the return of the baby via personal ads in the daily newspapers. They were unaware of who Condon was, let alone that he had come to Sorrel Hill in the dead of night and left the next day with Henry Breckinridge, but reading the March 11 edition of the New York American, sharp-eyed newsmen came across an ad that said, “I accept. Money is ready. Jafsie.” From then on, Jafsie watching became a prime pastime for the press.
If reporters covering the crime hadn’t noticed that the Jafsie ads were also running in the Bronx Home News, the paper’s readership did. Calls and letters had been received inquiring as to the notices. Fearing that Condon’s secret role in the negotiations might be compromised, the editor of the Home News publicly denied that the Jafsie messages had anything to do with the Lindbergh case. This didn’t prevent a New York City daily from sending a young writer to Condon’s door on the evening of March 17, as the old professor and Breckinridge were waiting for Lindbergh to arrive and examine the sleepwear. Condon’s wife fibbed in telling the reporter that her husband wasn’t home. The newsman, ostensibly doing a follow-up story, asked what kind of response, if any, had occurred as the result of Condon’s public offer to add a thousand dollars to the reward and act as intermediary. Mrs. Condon replied that other than a few crank letters, nothing much had come of it. The young reporter left.
Whereas Lindbergh and Breckinridge had reached Condon’s home undetected and no one yet linked the chatty old man to the Jafsie notices, the press was closing in. Either on a hunch or as the result of a tip, the banner story on the front page of the New York Mirror for that same Thursday, March 17, was that the J. P. Morgan and Company bank had made available to the Lindberghs $250,000 with which to buy back their child. The report was partially correct. In the afternoon the Morgan bank sent one fifth of that amount, fifty thousand dollars, in currency to the Fordham branch of the Corn Exchange Bank, where it was placed in a special vault to which Condon had twenty-four-hour-a-day access.
The next morning, Friday, March 18, Condon awoke to find the young journalist among a horde of reporters waiting outside on the sidewalk. Donning a disguise, and with the assistance of Al Reich, Jafsie sneaked out of the house and gave a scheduled lecture. When he returned home, the inquiring newsmen were gone.
On Monday, March 21, Condon received a letter in the same distorted handwriting as that of the previous ransom messages and bearing the identical signature of perforations and interlocking circles:
Dear Sir: You and Mr. Lindbergh know ouer Program. If you don’t accept den we will wait until you agree with ouer deal. we know you have to come to us anyway But why should Mrs. and Mr. Lindbergh suffer longer as necessary we will note communicate with your or Mr. Lindbergh until you write so in the paper.
we will tell you
again; this kidnapping cace whas prepared for a year already so the Police won’t have any luck to find us or the child. You only puch everything farther out did you that little package
to Mr. Lindbergh? It contains
the sleepingsuit for the baby.
the baby is well.
On the backside of the paper was this:
Mr. Lindbergh only wasting time with his search.1
It appeared that John had not seen the last ads. Breckinridge agreed that a new notice should be placed but differed with Condon, who continued to insist they must see the baby before paying the ransom. Lindbergh had ordained that they comply with every term laid down by the kidnappers, including not seeing the stolen infant prior to delivery. Even though this was how Breckinridge meant the matter to rest, this is the item Condon put in the March 22 editions of the Home News and the New York American:
Thanks. That little package you sent me was immediately delivered and accepted as real article. See my position. Over fifty years in business and can I pay without seeing the goods? Common sense makes me trust you. Please understand my position. Jafsie
That same day at Sorrel Hill, Lindbergh greeted John Hughes Curtis, the Reverend Mr. H. Dobson-Peacock, and Admiral Guy Burrage. He had extended the invitation after receiving a letter from Burrage imparting that the kidnappers had instructed “Sam” to have Curtis organize a group of Norfolk, Virginia, citizens into a negotiating committee for the return of the stolen child.
Burrage had been in command of the U.S. warship that brought Lindbergh back to America after his historic flight to France, and the two men had remained friendly. Burrage had been recruited by the highly respected H. Dobson-Peacock, rector of the largest church in Norfolk. Dobson-Peacock was convinced that the tale told him by the owner of one of the largest shipbuilding yards in the South, John Hughes Curtis, was true: that the kidnapping gang had designated a man named Sam as their go-between, and Sam had asked the forty-three-year-old Curtis, whom he had met several years back, to help him get in touch with Lindbergh. Dobson-Peacock and Burrage had not met Sam—and never would. Even so, Curtis convinced them that Sam, a former rumrunner with many aliases, was the true go-between.