Houses of Death (True Crime)

by Gordon Kerr

  Billy had married the beautiful Lillian Hanlan, a wealthy woman in her own right, four years earlier. Lillian became known as the ‘Lavender Lady’, because of her fondness for dressing in clothes of that colour. Even her carriage horses’ harnesses were dyed lavender. Unfortunately, Billy was something of a playboy and threw lavish parties in the storage caves beneath the mansion, to which he invited prostitutes to entertain his numerous, wastrel friends. It has been reported that Billy had an illegitimate son by one of these prostitutes. This child was said to suffer from Down’s syndrome and was kept locked out of sight in the attic of the great house.

  Eventually, Lillian grew weary of Billy’s philandering. She divorced him, retaining custody of their son, William Lemp III. For once, on the final day of the divorce proceedings, Lillian did not wear lavender. She appeared in front of the judge clad in black, from head to foot.

  The brewery began to go into decline. Competition was fierce and Billy neglected his duties, allowing equipment to deteriorate and failing to keep up with new developments in brewing technology. He married for a second time and, by 1915, had retreated to a mansion he had built on the Merrimac River.

  When Prohibition arrived in 1919, the brewery closed, the workers only learning about the closure when they turned up for work one day to find the gates locked. The buildings were sold for $588,000 (£294,000). Prior to Prohibition, they had been estimated to be worth $7 million (£3.5 million).

  Then, on 20 March 1920, distressed by her failing marriage, Billy’s sister, Elsa Lemp Wright, shot herself, just as her father had done. Billy is reported to have commented on arriving at the house where she had killed herself: ‘That’s the Lemp family for you.’ He slipped further into depression as a result and, on 22 December 1922, he became the third member of his family to shoot himself. His weapon of choice was a .38-calibre revolver and he carried out the act in his office in the mansion where his father had killed himself 18 years earlier.

  Tragically, in 1943, his son, William Lemp III, died of a heart attack at the age of 42.

  All that remained were Billy’s two brothers, Charles and Edwin, who had never worked in the family business. Charles had made his money from banking and real estate and, having refurbished the mansion, he moved back into the old house. But, he became stranger as he got older. He had an obsessive and irrational fear of germs, wore gloves at all times and compulsively washed his hands. He would become the fourth Lemp to commit suicide.

  On 10 May 1949, Charles shot his much-loved Dobermann pincher before turning his .38-calibre Colt revolver on himself, on the stairs leading up to his room on the mansion’s second floor. He left a note saying, ‘St Louis Mo/May 9, 1949, In case I am found dead blame it on no one but me. Ch A Lemp’. It was the only suicide note left by any members of the Lemp family.

  After working in the brewery until 1913, Edwin, the last in the Lemp line, had led a quiet life at his estate in Kirkwood, Missouri, where he had an observation tower, two servants’ houses, a collection of birds, antelope, sheep, yaks and many other animals. He devoted himself to charitable causes, most notably the St. Louis Zoo.

  Before he died, in 1970, Edwin instructed his caretaker to destroy his art collection and all Lemp family heirlooms, perhaps in order to destroy the curse that had so tragically decimated his family.

  Bangkwang Central Prison

  Nonthaburi Province, Thailand

  Of all the prisons in all the world, Bangkwang is the most notorious. Dangerously over-crowded, crawling with parasites and disease, and chock-full of drug smugglers and violent criminals - this prison has more in common with Newgate gaol of 18th century London, than any modern-day western prison. The Bangkok Hilton is one place in Thailand no one wants to visit.

  The Thais call it the ‘Big Tiger’, because, they say, it eats you up. Westerners call it ‘the Bangkok Hilton’, although that name is used to describe several Thai prisons. This one holds around 7,000 murderers, rapists and drug smugglers, all of whom are in for a minimum of 25 years. It is, quite simply, the most notorious prison in the world − the Bangkwang Central Prison.

  Its history goes back as far as 1902, when Thailand’s King Rama V bought an extensive piece of land in Bangkok on which he planned to construct a prison for the very worst of Thailand’s convicts – prisoners whose appeals were pending in the appeal court and supreme court, convicted male prisoners facing sentences of at least 25 years and prisoners who had been sentenced to death and were awaiting execution. However, it was not until after Rama V’s death that building began, in 1927, during the reign of his successor, Rama VI. It was completed in 1931. Today it covers around 32 hectares (80 acres) with 11 dormitories and 11 dining halls. Its perimeter walls are 2,406m (7,894 ft) long, 6m (19.5ft) high, go down 1m (3ft) underground and are equipped with high-voltage wires to deter escape attempts. The walls separating each of the prison’s 13 sections are 1.3m (4.3ft) long, 6m (20ft) high and bristle with barbed wire.

  When prisoners first arrive at Bangkwang they are put into leg-irons, and these must be worn for the first three months of every sentence. Condemned prisoners, however, wear the leg-irons permanently, they are actually welded on. The authorities do not provide food, and as prisoners have to purchase their own supplies from the prison canteen, money or supplies brought in by visitors are vital to survival. Each prisoner has an account with the canteen and this is managed with a chit system. If a prisoner has no money, he will perform tasks for a prisoner who has money and will earn enough for food and cigarettes that way. Even though many of the inmates are there for drug offences, drugs are still dealt in prison to make money, often smuggled in inside food parcels. Cooking facilities are provided and the authorities provide the gas with which to cook.

  Living quarters are barbaric, to say the least. Bangkwang is severely overcrowded following a government clampdown on the drug trade, and there are 24 men to a room, all crammed in and having to sleep on the floor. One inmate reports that if you get up in the night to visit the toilet, you are liable to lose your sleeping space and have to spend the night awake. The guards are unlikely to help, as they are hugely outnumbered by the prisoners. The ratio is, in fact, one guard to every 50 prisoners. To even things out a little, well-behaved prisoners are selected to become ‘Blueshirts’. These men are given uniforms and clubs, and can discipline prisoners who step out of line. If even that does not prove to be a deterrent, there is always ‘The Jungle’, the prisoners’ name for solitary confinement. Prisoners can spend months here, with even less facilities than in the rest of the prison − a hole in the ground for waste and no sink.

  Roll-calls are carried out twice a day to ensure that no one has escaped, but there is little opportunity for that, given that lock-down occurs at 3.30pm and prisoners spend 15 hours a day locked up.

  The prison hospital does not even provide any relief. The Bangkok Hilton is riddled with serious disease − HIV, full-blown AIDS and tuberculosis − but there is little help for the victims who lie shackled to their beds. Hospitals in Thailand rely on charity and the Thai people, believing that Bangkwang prisoners deserve everything they get, refuse to make the necessary donations. Consequently, medicines and treatment are totally inadequate.

  The worst thing to be in Bangkwang, of course, is a condemned man. A couple of years ago, there were more than 800. It is bad enough to be waiting to die, but at Bangkwang you never know when, as the authorities do not tell prisoners when their sentences are going to be carried out. The most warning they get is two hours. At least nowadays it is carried out by lethal injection. Until the 1930s, condemned prisoners were beheaded. If the prisoner happened to be of royal lineage, however, the bad news was that he was beaten to death with a lump of wood. The good news was that the wood had to be sweet-smelling.

  In 1932, they switched to machine-gunning the prisoner to death. The condemned man, or woman would be tied to a post, facing away from the machine-gunner, so that he, or she, would not know the identity of his killer and return
to haunt him when dead. He would then be shot in the heart from behind. The execution chamber, to this day, bears splatters of dried blood on its walls from those decades of bloody execution. The year 2003, saw a change to lethal injection but only because the machine-gunning was proving too unreliable and the prisoner often had to be finished off with another bullet.

  There are only a few ways to leave Bangkwang Central Prison. You leave when you have served your term of imprisonment, having survived the privations on offer. Or, if you behave, you might be released on parole after serving two-thirds of your sentence. Occasionally the king celebrates an event or anniversary by providing royal pardons to a number of prisoners. Or, you may leave in a wooden box through the gate known as the Ghost Gate, the day after you have been executed.

  Collingwood Manor Massacre

  1740 Collingwood Manor House, Detroit, USA

  Tensions were already running high for those involved in organized crime in Detroit in 1931, and Hymie Paul, Joe Lebowitz and Joe Sutker - or the 'terrors of the third street district' - as they became known, were not making life any easier. These out-of-towners simply refused to play by the rules of Detroit's gangland scene. They double-crossed business partners, hijacked and stole from allies and enemies, and on 16 September 1931, they paid the ultimate price.

  In prohibition-era America, in 1931, three out-of-towners, Hymie Paul, Joe ‘Nigger Joe’ Lebowitz, both 31, and 28-year-old Joe ‘Izzy’ Sutker, arrived in Detroit. They had been employed as hired guns by Harry Shorr and Charles Leiter, bosses of the Oakland Sugar House Gang that enjoyed an affiliation to the infamous Purple Gang that controlled much of Detroit. The trio’s job was to provide protection for booze shipments.

  Unfortunately, Hymie, Joe and Izzy were not content to just take orders. They opened a bookie’s to make some money on the side – a great deal of money. But that was not enough. Before long, in spite of the fact that they also had their own bootlegging operation, they began to hijack other hoods’ assignments of illicit hootch, double-crossed customers and reneged on deals. The other players in the Detroit underworld soon grew sick of them.

  In an attempt to benefit from local expertise, Hymie, Joe and Izzy hired an experienced gangster, Solomon ‘Solly’ Levine, to work with them. Levine was well connected with the Purple Gang, having grown up with the Bernstein brothers, Abe and Ray, two of the gang’s leading lights.

  Things began to unravel when their bookmaking business took a large hit of several hundred thousand dollars to Detroit’s East Side Mafia. They were unable to pay out, but decided they could raise money quickly by purchasing whisky, watering it down and selling it on at a profit. No sooner had they done that than the East Side Gang came back, looking for another big pay-out. They bought another 50 gallons of hootch on credit, diluted it and sold it again.

  By now, they were in deep trouble, the kind of trouble that could only end one way. Still, they were optimistic that the Legionnaires Convention would reverse their fortunes and they would be able to pay their now considerable debts. So, they spoke to Ray Bernstein, one of the leaders of the Purple Gang, about the money they owed for the whisky they had bought, asking him to give them until at least after the convention. Bernstein came back to them, suggesting a meeting at which they could thrash out a plan. He hinted that they could work for the Purple Gang again once everything was sorted out. The trio relaxed a little.

  The meeting was fixed for 3pm on 16 September at 1740 Collingwood Manor House, apartment 211. The night before, Izzy and Hymie took some time off from the bookmaking business, Izzy entertaining his eighteen-year-old girlfriend, drinking the night away with her and listening to music. Hymie went on a bender, but, in the morning he regretted the hangover with which he woke up and went to work.

  The three men left for their appointment at 2.45pm decided to leave their guns behind. This was, after all, a peace conference.

  The apartment was situated in a quiet, residential area on Detroit’s West Side. The houses stood silently as they parked their car outside the building close to 3pm. They rang the doorbell and, after a few moments, the door was opened by a smiling and welcoming Ray Bernstein. They shook hands, exchanged greetings and he ushered them in. They could hear a gramophone playing, but it was switched off abruptly as they entered the apartment.

  They exchanged more pleasantries with Irving Milberg, Harry Keywell and Harry Fleischer – the three Purple Gang luminaries they met inside. These were serious players, the three out-of-towners realised. Keywell was rumoured to have been the lookout on the day of the infamous St Valentine’s Day Massacre and Fleischer was a fugitive from the law, a 29-year-old killer whose rap-sheet included assault with intent to kill, armed robbery, kidnapping and receiving stolen property. Milberg was a proven crack-shot who had committed every crime in the book.

  Hymie, Joe and Solly made themselves comfortable on a sofa in the living room while Izzy perched on the arm. They made small talk until Fleischer asked Bernstein, ‘Where is that guy with the books?’ They were waiting, they said, for an accountant who would do the sums for them. Bernstein said he would go out and look for him. Out in the street, he climbed into a car, switched on the engine and gunned the motor, at the same time sounding the horn. Curtains began to twitch at neighbouring windows.

  It was, of course, a signal, and no sooner had the noise begun than Fleischer sprung into action, pulling a gun and firing it straight at Joe Lebowitz. Milberg and Keywell also pulled out weapons, opening fire on Izzy and Hymie, who made desperate efforts to escape. But, they had been taken completely off-guard. Hymie slumped against the side of the sofa, eight bullets lodged in his back and head. He still had a cigar dangling from his fingers. Joe Lebowitz tried to escape along the corridor leading to the bedroom, but fell to the floor, riddled with bullets, a cigar stub still clenched firmly between his teeth. Izzy made it as far as the bedroom, but Irving Milberg demonstrated how good his shooting was with a couple of bullet holes, close together on his forehead.

  Solly Levine wondered why he had not been shot as well, but they had merely decided that he would die elsewhere, after spreading the word that he had killed the three men and then had been hit himself.

  They pushed him down the back stairs of the Collingwood mansion and into a black 1930 Chrysler. They sped out of the alley at the back of the house and, a few blocks further on, split up. Bernstein, handing the shaken Levine $400.00 (£200.00) and telling him to get back to the bookies. He would see him later, he said.

  Levine, as a known associate of the three dead men, was picked up within the hour by the police, and a massive manhunt was launched. Milberg, Keywell and Bernstein were arrested, but Harry Fleischer was never convicted for the murders. He went on the run until 1932.

  After a sensational trial the jury took a mere 90 minutes to arrive at its verdict – guilty for all three men and a week later they received life sentences without parole

  Irving Milberg died in prison seven years later. Harry Keywell was a model prisoner for 34 years, at which point his life sentence was commuted. He was released in 1965, married, got a job and disappeared. In 1963, Ray Bernstein had a stroke in prison that left him paralyzed on his left side and with impaired speech. He had, like Keywell, been a model prisoner and had taught other inmates after he had gained his own high- school diploma. The parole board took pity on him and released him in 1964. He died two years later.

  As for Solly Levine, he became a hunted man. The remaining Purple Gang members wanted revenge. So, the police put him on a boat to France. Unfortunately, however, the French did not want him and sent him back. He then tried to go to Ireland, but while he was trying to get it organised, he disappeared.

  John Bodkin Adams

  Trinity Trees Surgery, Eastbourne, England

  The town of Eastbourne, on the south coast of England, is popularly known as a retirement town, and coloquially as 'the land of the setting sun'. It is a place dominated by elderly people, many of whom have upped-sticks and come to East
Sussex to spend their last days in peace and tranquility. For many of Dr John Bodkin Adams's patients, those last days came much sooner than they'd expected.

  Dr John Bodkin Adams arrived in the English south coast resort of Eastbourne in 1922, where he lived for a few years with his mother and a cousin, Florence Henry. In 1929, however, he took a huge step up in the world when he borrowed £2,000, from one of his patients, William Mawhood, to buy an 18-room house called Kent Lodge. This sizable house was located in an upmarket area of the town, in a street then known as Seaside Road, but which later changed its name to Trinity Trees. It became the venue of many deadly episodes, but for Dr Bodkin Adams, venue was unimportant. He would walk through the doors of many houses in Eastbourne and turn them into houses of death.

  Adams’s upbringing had been strictly religious. His mother and father had been members of the austere Protestant sect, the Plymouth Brethren, and he remained a member throughout his life. Having obtained a fairly mediocre degree from Queen’s University, Belfast, he worked at Bristol Royal Infirmary for a short while before obtaining a position as a general practitioner in a Christian practice in Eastbourne.

  He gained a terrible reputation and was distrusted by his fellow doctors, who refused to include him in the ‘pool system’ they devised during World War II to cover for colleagues who had been called up. He had become qualified as an anesthetist in 1941, but, working in the local hospital one day a week, he would fall asleep during procedures and was regarded as dangerously incompetent.