Why are you here and why am I doing this?

Why are you here and why am I doing this?

If you're like me, THIS is as close to crime as you want to get.

You want to maintain a safe distance and delve into it when it's convenient for you; not when some lunatic knocks on your door in the middle of the night, runs you off the road or approaches you in a parking lot.

Maybe you are a Murderino?

I'm someone who resolves every New Year's Eve to NOT be the victim of a crime.

Some of the crimes I'll describe here aren't horrific or even result in death, but they're still situations to be avoided. Who wants the drama or the paperwork associated with a non-violent crime? Not me.

I know I'm not the only one who's interested in reading about crime & criminals. I hope to use this blog to share that interest with others.

My process is to find something in an old newspaper, news broadcast or my own memory that grabs my attention and delve deep. I research the cases and people using newspaper and magazine archives, genealogy sites plus court or prison documents (when I can afford them). Lately the way I write the stories has changed. I'm starting to show the effort I've made to track down specific details. I also seem to be posting less frequently. This can be attributed to the fact that I'm now concerned with the As Close to Crime YouTube channel as well as my habit of falling deeper and deeper into rabbit holes with each new entry. I'd rather have quality than quantity, so I've come to terms with the lessening output.

I try not rely too heavily on other websites or books but I credit people when it's appropriate. In fact, if my main source of information is someone else's book, I'll just recommend the book. This was the case with "The Bobbed Haired Bandit."

Don't expect too many Top 10 lists from me. I instead prefer to select the more obscure crimes that some visitors to this blog have either never heard of or haven't thought about in awhile.

I also like to give attention to not just those who break the law but those who uphold the law. So you can expect to see some of that here.

There's a companion YouTube Channel for this blog, called As Close to Crime, where I occasionally post clips related to particular blog entries or just random clips concerning criminal activity. I'm never going to post an entire commercially available film.

Be sure to subscribe to the channel or this blog.

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Showing posts with label burglary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label burglary. Show all posts

Friday, June 22, 2018

Alcoholism Cracks a Cold Case


 Parley L. Bennett
Tuesday, January 25, 1927 probably seemed a day like any other for LAPD Patrolman Parley L. "Pat" Bennett, who was working the traffic detail at 7th and Los Angeles Streets, except for the plans he'd made with his wife Elizabeth to take their two young children, Kenneth (aged 6) & Enid (aged 3), to the traveling circus later in the day. All of that changed when he was alerted to a burglary in progress half a block away from his post.
A young man had entered the Brodine Millinery Company at 724 South Los Angeles Street just as the employees were closing shop and getting ready to head home. He produced a revolver and demanded money. The bookkeeper, Mrs. Charlotte Johnson, initially refused but was told she'd be shot if she didn't comply. Mrs. Johnson backed away from the cash box containing $75.00.

Another employee, Miss Ruth Werner, was in the back of the shop and managed to sneak away unseen and inform one of the owners of the situation. Mr. A. Brodine made it out of the building and found Officer Bennett who was directing traffic.

Bennett ran to the location but barely had time to assess the situation and draw his service revolver before being gunned down. The burglar was on his way out and Bennett was on his way in. Bennett was shot multiple times and DOA when transported to the Central Receiving Hospital. He'd been on the force for 2 1/2 years.

The unknown man now possessed the stolen $75 and Bennett's revolver. He ran out of the building and boarded a passing streetcar. Witnesses described him as white, between 5 foot 4 inches and 5 foot 7 inches, weighing between 135 and 145 pounds and he looked to be about 24-years-old. He wore a grey suit and had a cap pulled down over his eyes.

A massive manhunt involving 70 detectives failed to produce the man responsible. Police Captain Herman Cline offered up $250 of his own money for information leading to a successful arrest and conviction. An additional $5,000 was added to the pot and although as many as 250 suspects were questioned, none of the men were positively identified by the witnesses. The killer eluded capture for 44 years.

Within a week of Bennett's murder, merchants on Los Angeles Street between 7th and 8th Streets raised $1,000 for the widow and her two children. An impressive amount of money back in 1927 (roughly $14,460.00 in today's money) but hardly fair compensation for what Elizabeth had already lost by the time she'd reached 34. Elizabeth had given birth to 4 children between 1920 and 1925 but their second child, a daughter named Alice and their fourth and final child, a son named George had both died in infancy. Now her husband was gone.

On October 14, 1971, LAPD police officers were responding to a "disturbing the peace" call and found a disheveled 67-year-old Matthew Kilgariff blocking traffic near Western Avenue and Romaine Street. Kilgariff told police he'd been on a bender but hadn't had a drink in two days and was suffering from the DT's. He said needed psychiatric care. To further convince them of his need to be taken in to custody, Kilgariff admitted to a string of unsolved burglaries and told them he'd also killed a police officer in 1927. That case had long gone cold but police threw him in a cell while they dug through the old files.

Sure enough, there was an unsolved killing of a police officer from January 25th 1927 but the only evidence they had linking Matthew Kilgariff to the crime was his somewhat sketchy confession. Kilgariff didn't have all the details correct, his recollection of the day in question was February 27th and he thought he'd robbed a paper store, but he had a rap sheet consistent with that crime, including burglary, robbery, vagrancy, drunkenness and a 15-year-stint in a Texas prison for robbery and assault with intent to commit murder. His physical appearance at the time of the crime matched their suspect but after 44 years nobody would be able to offer a valid identification that would hold up in court. All the same, they arrested him and hoped that a jury would believe his audiotaped confession which included his assertion that when robbed the safe and shot Officer Bennett he was broke and drunk. His recorded confession included the statement "Like I told you before I wasn't proud of what I did. It's been 44 years of hell." Poor you.

What else do we know about Matthew Francis Kilgariff other than he was an alcoholic and a career criminal?

Well, he entered the world on January 10, 1904, one of nine children born to Patrick and Cecelia Kilgraiff. When Cecelia died on November 18, 1920, her 16-year-old son Patrick was already living in the Connecticut (Reform) School for Boys located in Hartford. The 1920 Census for that location was taken on January 6th so we can't attribute his waywardness to the death of his mother. Cecelia still had another 10 months to live. The same census reveals there were 6 Kilgariff youths, ranging in age from 5 to 24-years-old, still living with Patrick and Cecelia on Goodman Place in 1920 so this isn't a case of a family being unable to provide for their children and being forced to commit them to an orphanage. It would seem that Matthew was the bad apple, the black sheep, the problem child.

Matthew's youngest sibling Bernard would die tragically on March 8, 1925 at the age of 10 when he rollerskated out into traffic and was struck by a speeding automobile. The driver, Louis Bianchi was arrested & Patrick Kilgariff sued him for $10,000 but a judge dismissed the case for lack of evidence and essentially held the child responsible for his own death although there was some belief that one of Bernard's rollerskates got caught in a trolley car track and he was unable to move.

Among the 100 individuals who testified at Matthew Kilgariff's long overdue trial in 1972 was Officer Bennett's widow Elizabeth. Now remarried and living in Idaho, she recalled that terrible afternoon as if it were yesterday. Elizabeth and her brother-in-law John Bennett, also a policeman, took the children to the circus that night despite the sad news "because Pat had promised and he was known as a man of his word."

The only eyewitness the prosecution could produce, so long after the crime, was 59-year-old Raymond Varela who had been on the scene that afternoon. Varela had taken a streetcar to the neighborhood that day to buy a pair of shoes. Raymond Varela had seen much that day but he didn't report any of it to the police at the time. Varela only came forward in 1971 after reading about Kilgariff's arrest and spontaneous confession. To his credit, despite seeing a police officer being gunned down in the line of duty, Raymond Varela had joined the LAPD and spent 10 years (1938-1948) on the force. Varela managed to describe in detail the events of that afternoon including seeing Officer Bennett run into the store, being shot in the doorway and the killer escaping.  "I was just 14 years old at the time but it made a deep impression on me." 

A eulogy for Parley L. Bennett printed in the Los Angeles Times on January 28, 1927 railed against "sob sisters and sentimentalists" who would "work up a false and outrageous pity for the deadly gunman" and "unscrupulous lawyers" who "take advantage of our lax and cumbrous legal procedure." The author hoped for a swift trial and that the criminal would "receive the just desserts of his foul deed."

How disappointed that author would have been that it took 44 years for Matthew Kilgariff to be brought to justice and that at his trial a psychiatrist, Dr. Magdalene Nemeth, would declare the audiotaped confessions to be false and mere hallucinations.

The jury believed his confession however and on April 28, 1972, after two days of deliberation, Matthew F. Kilgariff was found guilty of first degree murder. The mandatory sentence was life in prison.

In an unusual move, Kilgariff's competency was questioned only after the verdict was rendered. In July 1972, three court-appointed psychiatrists agreed unanimously that the defendant was unable to understand the proceedings and sentencing was postponed. Maybe they were right. Kilgariff offered no defense at the trial and simply sat there in court staring off into space. Kilgariff was committed to the Atascadero State Hospital for a year of treatment and observation. If there was no improvement, he was to remain there. If the opposite was true he'd be relocated to the state prison. The public defender argued that Kilgariff should be sent to either Camarillo State mental Hospital or Nowack State Hospital because "the conditions are more humane and the psychiatric treatment would be better."

In November 1972, the Judge presiding over the case reduced the charge to second degree murder "because of the defendant's age and physical condition." This change made Kilgariff eligible for parole in 2 years.

Matthew F. Kilgariff died on October 13, 1976 while still an inmate of the Atascadero State Hospital in San Luis Obispo County, California.


Tuesday, May 29, 2018

The Fighting Priest

Two career criminals were counting on the generosity of St. Catherine's parishioners that Easter Sunday in 1961 and they were right; folks had filled the church's collection baskets with their hard-earned money. However, not content with the supposedly thousands of dollars sitting in the rectory that evening, the crooks decided to steal the silverware as well.


 
Denver, Colorado's Right Reverend Monsignor Delisle A. Lemieux, aged 58, heard the racket coming from the dining room and ran in there to investigate. Leaving nothing to chance, this was a tough neighborhood and burglaries were commonplace, Lemieux grabbed a 12-gauge shotgun and a .32 caliber handgun. He told the burglars to stand fast and "don't move or I'll shoot" but when they lunged at him, Lemieux pulled the trigger of the shotgun and down went Richard Eugene Sanders, aged 27.

Sander's accomplice and Lemieux wrestled for ownership of the shotgun before the intruder made a break for it. Lemieux threw the shotgun to the ground and fired three rounds from his revolver at the fleeing man. He was pretty sure the third shot hit it's target but the man made it out of the rectory and had sped away in a waiting vehicle.



Richard Eugene Sanders
Monsigner Lemieux, I suppose preparing to offer last rites to Sanders, asked the dying man if he was a Catholic. Sanders shook his head "No" and then passed out. He would die on the operating table from the wound to his abdomen.
Lemieux was quoted as saying, "I never meant to kill him. I aimed low and he walked right into it. It's been a nightmare."

Ten days later, on April 13, the FBI arrested, without incident, John Joseph Thornbrugh, aged 29, at a bar in Fresno, California. He had a bullet wound to his left leg, as Lemieux suspected.

On April 18, 1961, as a mere formality, Monsignor Lemieux was charged with murder. He pled "not guilty" and was immediately acquitted by Judge Joseph Cook in a "directed verdict." This ruling is appropriate when it is believed by the court that a jury could come to no other decision.

According to newspaper reports of the time, District Attorney Bert Keating intended to charge Thornbrugh with burglary and also murder in the first degree since Sander's death occurred during the commission of a felony.

Unfortunately, that is where the story ends for me (and now you) because I've found no articles following that announcement and it would cost me a minimum of $30 to access Thornbrugh's prison records. I'm guessing there was no actual trial and Thornbrugh took a deal.

Monsignor Lemieux continued on at St. Catherine's until his retirement, in either 1966 or 1967. He died on October 22, 1977 at the age of 75.



Monday, May 21, 2018

That's no way to treat Barbara Stanwyck!

Barbara Stanwyck, 1943
This entry is about a crime that when it happened seemed (to me) really wrong and it's always bothered me. Most likely because I'm a fan; I'll readily admit, there are way worse crimes against celebrities out there. Connie Francis immediately comes to mind but that's another crime for another time.

Today it's the 1981 home burglary and battery of Barbara Stanwyck.  Maybe this is new to you or perhaps, like me, you took it personally.

Miss Stanwyck described herself as "Tough old broad from Brooklyn," and she was, but some friends indicate that emotionally she never recovered from the assault.

Barbara Stanwyck, 1981
Let's remember, while Barbara will always be remembered for playing tough gals, in 1981 she was a 74-year-old woman living alone at 1055 Loma Vista Drive in Beverly Hills, California.


At roughly 1 AM on Tuesday the 27th of October, Barbara Stanwyck was awakened by a man's voice. He was shining a flashlight in her face and demanding to know where her jewelry was kept. Miss Stanwyck turned on a bedside lamp. She got a quick look at the thief before being hit on the head with a blunt object and thrown into a bedroom closet. Barbara was later able to describe the man as about 6' 2'', 200 pounds and wearing a ski mask. She stayed in the closet for some time before believing the coast was clear, at which point she crawled out and called the police. She was treated for minor injuries at Cedars-Sinai Hospital and released.

Police had little to go on. He seemed to have entered the 3 bedroom home through a broken window. Burglaries in the Trousdale Estates area were rare.

According to newspaper reports at the time, the burglar stole about $5,000 worth of jewelry. November 25, 1985 People Magazine article would estimate the loss to be closer to $40,000. Items stolen included a beloved ruby-encrusted cigarette case from her second husband Robert Taylor.

The crime was never solved.

Sidenote - in 1985 this same home would catch fire and cause an estimated $1.5 million in damages. I distinctly remember Miss Stanwyck saying that the greatest loss was love letters written to her by Robert Taylor.