Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Simon Baatzholds a joint appointment as associate professor of history at John Jay College of Criminal Justice and at the Graduate Center, City University of New York.

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It was a crime that shocked the nation: the brutal murder in Chicago in 1924 of a child by two wealthy college students who killed solely for the thrill of the experience. Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb were intellectuals—too smart, they believed, for the police to catch them. When they were apprehended, state's attorney Robert Crowe was certain that no defense could save the ruthless killers from the gallows. But the families of the confessed murderers hired Clarence Darrow, entrusting the lives of their sons to the most famous lawyer in America in what would be one of the most sensational criminal trials in the history of American justice.

Set against the backdrop of the 1920s—a time of prosperity, self-indulgence, and hedonistic excess in a lawless city on the brink of anarchy—For the Thrill of It draws the reader into a world of speakeasies and flappers, of gangsters and gin parties, with a spellbinding narrative of Jazz Age murder and mystery.

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For the Thrill of It

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Chapter One

Wednesday, 21 May 1924?—Thursday, 29 May 1924

This cruel and vicious murder?.?.?.??this gruesome crime?.?.?.??this atrocious murder?.?.?.??the most cruel, cowardly, dastardly murder ever committed in the annals of American jurisprudence.1

Robert Crowe, state's attorney of Cook County, 23 July 1924

Everybody knows that this was a most unfortunate homicide. That it is the cruelest, the worst, the most atrocious ever committed in the United States is pure imagination without a vestige of truth.?.?.?.??A death in any situation is horrible, but when it comes to the question of murder it is doubly horrible. But there are degrees?.?.?.??of atrocity, and as I say, instead of this being one of the worst?.?.?.??it is perhaps one of the least painful.2

Clarence Darrow, defense attorney, 23 July 1924

Flora Franks glanced at the clock. Already past six o'clock and still no sign of Bobby! The cook had prepared dinner and the maids were waiting patiently for the family to move to the dining room. Normally she could rely on her eldest son, Jack, sixteen years old, to keep an eye on his younger brother, but Jack lay upstairs in bed, ill with chicken pox; he had not been to school all week. Her daughter, Josephine, seventeen years old, tried to calm Flora's fears—Bobby always played baseball after school; perhaps he had gone to a friend's home for supper after the game.3

Jacob Franks agreed with his daughter. Admittedly it was not like Bobby to be late for dinner; but nothing serious had happened to the boy. It was only three blocks from the Harvard School to their house and Bobby was now fourteen years old, old enough to know not to talk to strangers. The boy had probably fallen in with a classmate after the game and had forgotten the time. Still, he was annoyed that his son should be so thoughtless and forgetful, annoyed with Bobby for causing his mother to worry.

Jacob Franks was proud of his four children: Josephine had been accepted at Wellesley College for the fall, and Jack, a junior at the Harvard School, was planning to attend Dartmouth College. Jacob Jr. was the youngest child, still a student in grade school, but already showing signs of academic promise. Bobby, the darling of the family, was a bit of a scamp who got into his share of scrapes at school, but he was, nevertheless, his mother's favorite. She loved his assertiveness, his independent spirit, his ambition; he had already announced to the family that he too would go to Dartmouth and then would study for the law. No doubt he would keep his promise: the principal of the Harvard School, Charles Pence, had reported that Bobby was a precocious child. Only a freshman at the school, he was a member of the class debating team. He was a popular boy at school, a keen tennis player and an avid golfer; he had joined with some other boys in establishing a reading group, and only a few days earlier, he had won a debate on capital punishment, arguing for a link between criminality and mental illness—"most criminals have diseased minds"—and protesting against the right of the state "to take a man, weak and mentally depraved, and coldly deprive him of his life."

For Flora and Jacob Franks, their four children were the capstone of their lives. As a young boy, Jacob Franks had lost his own father. His mother had run a clothing store and then a pawnshop in Chicago, and in 1884 Jacob had set up in business for himself, opening a pawnshop on Clark Street south of Madison Street. It was a good location and an auspicious time—gambling was then unregulated in the city and there were at least a dozen gaming houses within a block of Jacob Franks's pawnshop.

Jacob soon built up a loyal clientele—the gamblers could rely on Jacob to lend them as much as ninety percent of the value of the diamonds, watches, and rings that they pawned—and once their luck turned, they could easily redeem their property. Michael (Hinky Dink) Kenna, Democratic alderman of the First Ward and one of the most powerful politicians in Chicago, remembered Jacob Franks as an honest businessman who earned the loyalty of his customers: "He ran the business strictly on the square and he had the respect of every man who ever made a loan.?.?.?.??He knew who he was dealing with, and for that reason would take a chance."

Jacob Franks never ran for political office, yet he was well connected—"Franks," according to one politician, "has for years been a big factor in the Democratic party"—and he used his connections to make his fortune. An opportunity to buy stock in the Ogden Gas Company was a lucky break for Franks and his business partner, Patrick Ryan; the two entrepreneurs sold the stock to the People's Gas Light and Coke Company at an enormous profit estimated by one friend to be as much as $1 million. Franks bought land in the downtown district and watched its value soar when the city moved the grog shops, gambling dens, and brothels farther south, to the Levee between 18th and 22nd streets. By 1924, Jacob Franks was wealthy beyond his wildest dreams; he was worth, at a conservative estimate, more than $4 million.6

It was now after seven o'clock. The youngest son, Jacob Jr., had finished eating and was fidgeting, anxious to leave the table. His father let him go. Flora, Josephine, and Jacob remained at the table talking; they could no longer pretend that Bobby was delayed at a friend's house.

Jacob went to the phone to call his lawyer, Samuel Ettelson. Jacob Franks had known Ettelson for many years—the two men were close friends. Ettelson, undoubtedly one of the most influential lawyers in Chicago, had served as corporation counsel during the mayoralty of William Hale Thompson from 1915 to 1923 and was now state senator for Cook County in the Illinois legislature. A prominent Republican, Ettelson still had considerable influence with the police department and with the state's attorney, Robert Crowe. If anything had happened to Bobby, Jacob Franks could rely on Ettelson to help launch a massive police investigation.

Ettelson arrived at the house on Ellis Avenue around nine o'clock that evening. The three adults talked briefly in the living room; both parents were now consumed with anxiety. Ettelson started calling the teachers at the Harvard School. Had they seen Bobby Franks that afternoon? Could they remember when he had left to go home? Only Richard Williams, the athletics instructor, could provide much information. Bobby had been the umpire at an impromptu baseball game between some schoolboys on a vacant lot at 57th Street and Ellis Avenue. Williams had seen Bobby leave the game to walk home around 5:15 p.m.

Had Bobby returned to the Harvard School on his way home? Perhaps, Ettelson reasoned, he had popped into the school to retrieve something and had been locked inside by the janitor. The two men grabbed their coats and hats and made for the door—it was a five-minute walk to the school. When they reached the main entrance, the building was dark; there was no sign of the janitor. A window was open on the first floor. Ettelson helped Jacob Franks climb into the building and both men began hunting through the classrooms. They also searched the school grounds, but there was...