The Lindbergh Case
On a cold rainy night, March 1, 1932, in the remote rural area near Hopewell, New
Jersey, Charles A. Lindbergh, Jr., twenty months old, was kidnapped. Sometime between 8:00
p.m., when his nurse, Betty Gow, checked on the sleeping baby, and 10:00 p.m., when she
once again checked on him before retiring for the night, "The Eaglet" (as the
newspapers called him) had been removed from his crib.
The only remembered event that indicated that
something had gone amiss was earlier, about
9:00 p.m., while the Lindberghs were sitting in
the living room. Col. Lindbergh had heard a
noise that sounded as if an orange crate had
fallen off a chair in the kitchen.
At 10:25 p.m., Ollie
Whately, the Lindbergh
caretaker, called the
Hopewell Police, and
shortly thereafter Col.
Lindbergh called the
New Jersey State
Police. In the cold dark,
Lindbergh hunted for
signs of the kidnapper,
carrying his Springfield
rifle. He could see
nothing. A number of State Police officers were
on the scene, when around midnight their chief,
H. Norman Schwarzkopf, arrived to take
command.
The impressions of Col. H. Norman Schwarzkopf
are mixed. He was an army officer in World War
I. At the age of twenty-six, he was appointed
the first head of the New Jersey State Police,
which he designed and ran as a military body.
The organization was strong on enforcement,
but weak on investigation. His "troops" had
military ranks and wore quasi-military uniforms.
He was the father of 1991 Desert Storm
commander H. Norman Schwarzkopf, Jr.
While he was excluded from much of the
planning to connect with the kidnappers, and
while much of his advice was over-ruled by
Lindbergh and his lawyer, Henry Breckinridge,
once the Eaglet's body was discovered in early
May, he took charge of the investigation. It
was clear that he found it difficult to cooperate
with the New York City Police, the FBI, and
other investigative units. Lindbergh expressed
confidence in him, particularly during the
unproductive months that followed the
discovery of the child's body, during which time
the efforts of the State Police were roundly
criticized.
The first of the state police to arrive
investigated the outside area. They found
footprints in the wet ground below the window,
but neglected either to measure them or to
make plaster casts of them. There were two
deep impressions, presumably made by a ladder.
Also, a carpenter's chisel was found near the
ladder impressions. Less than a hundred yards
away, the ladder, in three sections, was
discovered, the bottom section --- the widest
--- was broken. Near a small dirt road, there
were tire tracks.
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Anne Morrow Lindbergh |
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Charles A. Lindbergh |
By this time,
Lindbergh's
lawyer and
friend, Henry C.
Breckinridge,
had arrived. The
three colonels
(Lindbergh,
Breckinridge,
and
Schwarzkopf)
went into the nursery with other officers and
Cpl. Frank Kelly, the crime scene and fingerprint
man.
On the
windowsill was
an envelope,
spotted earlier
by Lindbergh. It
was dusted for
fingerprints, as
were other
areas in the
room. Officer
Schoeffel slit the envelope open with his
penknife. He removed a single sheet of folded
paper. It had been written with blue ink. The
note was handed to Lindbergh.
It read:
Dear Sir!
Have 50000$ redy with 2500$ in 20$ bills
1500$ in 10$ bills and 1000$ in 5$ bills.
After 2-4 days we will inform you were to
deliver the Mony.
We warn you for making anyding public or
for notify the polise the child is in gute
care.
Indication for all letters are singnature
and 3 holes.
At the bottom
right-hand corner of the
sheet of paper was a
drawing of two
interlocking circles,
each about an inch in
diameter. The area
where the circles
intersected had been
colored red. Three small
holes had been punched
into the design. Kelly
found only a single
unidentifiable smudge on the envelope, nothing
on the sheet of paper.
Within a few hours scores of reporters were at
the Lindbergh estate, and by morning curious
on-lookers were tramping over the property.
Schwarzkopf set up a command post in
Lindbergh's three-car garage. The butler and his
wife were kept busy providing coffee and
sandwiches to the police and the journalists.
Additional telephone lines were brought in, and
the press finally established their headquarters
in the small hotel in the village of Hopewell.
Lindbergh took charge. He and Breckinridge
decided that the best way of obtaining the
return of the baby was to do whatever the
kidnappers asked. Schwarzkopf, in awe of
Lindbergh, had no choice, even though he
pointed out that Lindbergh legally could not
offer immunity to the criminals.
Within the next few days, thousands of pieces
of mail were received at Hopewell. Three state
police officers worked full time on sorting
through the mail. Three theories were being
formed:
1) Lindbergh presumed that the kidnappers
were professional.
2) Because of the kidnappers' familiarity with
the house, the location of the nursery, and the
modest ransom request, Schwarzkopf thought
that the gang was local and unprofessional.
3) Lieutenant Keaton, Schwarzkopf's principal
detective, wanted to pursue the possibility that
the kidnapping might have been, directly or
indirectly, the work of domestic employees,
since somehow the kidnappers had to have
been informed that the family was not returning
to the Morrow estate, as was their custom.
Keaton gingerly explored the possibility that
Betty Gow, the nursemaid, was somehow
involved.
On March 4, a second ransom letter was
received. It scolded Lindbergh for involving the
police, and upped the ransom demand to
$70,000. The same symbol of interlocking
circles was at the bottom of the note. Thinking
that this note might have been intercepted by
the police, a third letter was sent the next day
to Breckinridge's office, to be delivered to
Lindbergh. It essentially repeated the
information contained in the March 4th letter.
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