Countless others in Kansas City and St. Joseph were scouring riverbeds, woods, and any area remotely within driving or walking distance of any of the places Heady and Hall had been during the course of their crime. The newspapers were also filled with numerous theories about what happened to the money.
One area that held a particular interest for the police was the bank of the Meramec River in South County, after it was learned that Hall had purchased a shovel, garbage cans, and a paper preservative. In his confession, he had revealed that he spent three hours alone in a rented car on the previous Tuesday afternoon. After patiently checking and rechecking the stories told to them by Hall and Hager, police theorized that he may actually have used his purchases to bury the illegal treasure, and that his claim that all of the ransom was still in the hotel room at the time of his arrest was a deception. In support of that theory, Hager reported that when Hall did arrive at the Coral Court three hours after they parted company at Hampton Village in the 5700 block of Chippewa Street, the tires and fenders of Hall’s rented green Plymouth were liberally plastered with fresh mud. That was one of the few things in Hager’s statement to the police that was not a lie.
The police also began a door-to-door canvas of the business establishments on the 5700 block of Chippewa, and soon hit pay dirt. Mrs. William Koenig, a clerk at the Hardware Mart at 5755 Chippewa, recalled that a man answering to Hall’s description had bought two galvanized iron garbage cans, two large transparent plastic zipper-closing bags, a can of spray-type preservative used for waterproofing paper or fabric, and a shovel. She remembered carrying the man’s purchases to his car, but was not able to identify the model. She made two trips, and told police that Hall did not appear to be intoxicated. After the merchandise was placed in the car’s rear seat, Hall drove away toward the west.
The Meramec River flowed under a bridge on Route 66 a few miles west of the Coral Court motel. The banks consisted mostly of soft muck, and in many places were bordered by trees and underbrush. Although Hall admitted to FBI agents that he had bought the materials from the hardware store in an effort to bury part of the ransom, he insisted that he mostly drove around the countryside, unable to find a suitable hiding place. Eventually, he told them, he abandoned the project and left the cans and other materials in a deserted clubhouse before driving back to the city to meet Hager. Unconvinced, the FBI made repeated visits to Hall’s cell during the day, and at least once took him from his cell to tour the city. Suspecting that Hall was lying when he denied being the one who killed Bobby, they also believed that he was dissembling when he insisted that he had all of the ransom money with him at the time of his arrest. The mere idea that two policemen had brazenly stolen half of the ransom in such a highly publicized case defied not only the usual standards of human decency, but common sense. Moreover, Hall himself had admitted buying materials to be used to hide the money, a clerk had corroborated that story, and Meramec River mud was plastered on the tires of his rented Plymouth. It just seemed a matter of time before he confessed to the killing, and then to burying half the ransom.
By Saturday, October 10, four days after Hall’s and Heady’s arrests, both federal and state officials were convinced that Marsh was only a “fall guy,” and that Hall and Heady had committed both the kidnapping and murder of Bobby. But they delayed transferring the pair to Kansas City so that they could continue to interrogate Hall about the missing ransom. In Washington, U.S. attorney general Herbert Brownell announced that both prisoners would be turned over to the state of Missouri for prosecution. Both Richard K. Phelps of Jackson County, which encompassed Kansas City; and John E. Downs of Buchanan County, which encompassed St. Joseph, were insisting that they receive the prisoners for trial in their respective jurisdictions, but the evidence suggested that Downs might yield since the strongest case could probably be made on the kidnapping charge in Kansas City. Ultimately, federal authorities were awarded jurisdiction in the case because the kidnappers had crossed state lines.
By now, the FBI had traced Hager’s movements after he and Hall had parted ways just before noon on Tuesday, October 6. The bureau was able to confirm that after Hall and Hager reunited at the Villanova Inn, after failing to hook up at the Pink House, they ate sandwiches and drank beer. Ace Cab driver Joseph Travis confirmed that he had driven Hager to the Town House, where the latter allegedly booked a room for Hall and paid $185 in cash for a month’s rent. But the bureau was still not able to confirm that Hager, while waiting for his suit to be altered at Boyd’s, had called Shoulders, as both men insisted.
The FBI also contacted Patton, asking him to go to the federal building in St. Joseph on October 10. The second letter that Hall wrote to the attorney was the first to arrive—the one he had given to O’Day to mail from California. O’Day, in fact, did mail it, although from Kansas City. The bureau had intercepted it. It also intercepted the first letter Hall wrote to Patton, and the second to arrive. Six cents postage was due on that letter, which caused the delay in delivery. The envelope contained $500 in cash, and in the accompanying letter Hall asked Patton to pay the McCord-Bell auto rental agency for the blue Ford that Heady had rented, and advised the lawyer to keep quiet. “Mrs. Heady has been in a little trouble in Kansas City,” the note said, but provided no details.
Patton opened the letters in the presence of four FBI agents, who avoided touching the currency, turning them over only with a pencil.
Meanwhile, police departments around the country continued to look for Thomas John Marsh, the thirty-seven-year-old ex-convict wanted for questioning in the Greenlease case. Police made repeated visits to a small farm near Springfield, Missouri, to talk to Thomas Marsh, Sr. Bearded and disabled, the older Marsh told police that he had not seen his son since they had quarreled in February and the younger man was ordered to leave. He did add, though, that he did not think his son would ever kill anyone.
On Sunday, October 11, FBI agents scouring the lonely field of wheat stubble where Bobby was killed recovered the brown hat that blew off Heady’s head, as well as Bobby’s mechanical pencil. Tenant farmer Arthur Brulez had come across the hat the previous day, while on his way to care for several calves, and kicked it aside, not guessing its significance. He came forward only after observing FBI agents, sheriff’s deputies, and reporters on the scene, and learned what had happened. Mrs. Mike Olsen, who lived on a neighboring farm, also found out why her Collie dog had howled night after night, beginning on Monday, September 28. She explained to reporters that so many trucks backfired on the nearby highway that she would not have noticed the sound of a shot being fired. FBI agents also discovered several bloodstains. After spending several hours digging holes, sifting dirt, and closely examining the area along a tall hedgerow, the agents left. Officers were posted to prevent anyone from entering the field.
Finally, around midnight on Monday, October 12, Hall and Heady broke down and made a full confession to Kansas City police chief Bernard Brannon and Joseph E. Thornton, head of the St. Louis FBI office. Starting Saturday night, agents and police working in pairs had questioned the couple about each new piece of evidence obtained—the ballistic tests, the recovery of a bullet from the station wagon, and other details. During this and previous interrogations, an enlarged photograph of Bobby had been placed on a table directly in front of Hall’s line of vision. Hall repeatedly tried to avoid looking at it.
As Hall and Heady began to make certain admissions, a call went out for Warden E. E. Hensley, because the agents wanted him to be present when statements were taken. Finally, Brannon said to Hall, “Carl, we don’t buy this stuff about the boy being with Marsh. The boy is dead and is buried in the backyard under those flowers at St. Joseph, isn’t he? Why don’t you tell us all about it?”
Hall gazed at the photograph of Bobby, tears welled in his eyes, and he said to Brannon, “Chief, get me a drink of whiskey and I will tell you everything. I’ve got to have some whiskey.”
Brannon asked St. Louis chief of police Jeremiah O’
Connell for permission to get whiskey for Hall. It was still early in the morning. O’Connell replied that getting whiskey for Hall would be possible once the bars opened at 6 A.M. “All right, I’ll tell the truth,” Hall said. After confessing that he had killed Bobby, he sobbed hysterically for ten minutes.
One of three women being held in the city jail with Heady, Bonnie Yonover, told a reporter for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that she had befriended the accused murderess, who allegedly told her that the original kidnapping plan was Hall’s, but that she had “put the finishing touches on it.” Heady allegedly expressed no remorse, and considerable irritation over Hall’s bungling. “If he had stayed with me,” she said, alluding to his leaving her at the Arsenal Street apartment and going to the Coral Court, “everything would have been all right.” Still under the illusion that she would receive a sentence of only twenty-five years, and with good behavior might be released in about seven years, a thoroughly unrepentant Heady told Yonover, referring to her share of the ransom: “That $300,000 wouldn’t have been too bad for only seven years. I’d rather be dead than poor.” She also said, “Before the kidnapping, I thought Carl was a big tough guy with a lot of nerve. But I found out when the chips were down he was nothing but a weakling. He certainly had me fooled.”
Two jail matrons, Grace Koenig and Grace Gates, also talked to reporters about their prisoner. “I have never seen a colder, more scheming woman in my life,” Gates said. “Right after she was captured and brought here, she was looking at a picture of herself in a newspaper and she remarked, ‘That’s a terrible picture of me.’ I said, ‘No, it looks just as you are, Bonnie.’ ”
Heady had at least one sympathetic observer, a woman who wrote an anonymous letter to The Kansas City Star that read in part, “As a divorcée, you are scared, always reminded of your ex-husband or suitor’s prosperous business, his happiness with the new bride. You are approached on street corners or by telephone; forsaken by your so-called good friends; left alone to battle the disgrace, humiliation . . . it leads then to drinking, drugs, murder. Divorcées number in the thousands. They need help to keep us in society, in maintaining our standing in life.”
Hall and Heady were taken to the Jackson County Court House jail in Kansas City, Missouri, departing under heavy guard from St. Louis around 10 P.M. on Monday, October 12. Federal marshals used a little known exit to spirit the kidnappers away, and also used two private automobiles—one each for Hall and Heady—instead of agency vehicles. The two-car convoy made only one stop, in Columbia. Hall and Heady mostly slept, though Hall did say to Deputy Marshal Leslie S. Davison, “I would like to see those folks [the Greenlease family] get their money back.” At another point, he said, “You may not believe this, but I don’t know what I did with the missing money.” He did recall, though, trying to bury the money; and he also admitted, “If I had listened to her [Heady], I don’t think I would have been caught.”
Davison later remarked that he did not think Hall was a confirmed drug addict. “He is clear and speaks well,” the deputy marshal said, “and is neither surly nor sarcastic, as many prisoners are.”
After a five-and-a-half-hour drive, the group arrived at the jail at 3:35 on Tuesday morning. Fearing a lynch mob, the authorities had refused to release any information about when the prisoners would leave from St. Louis, or even whether the U.S. attorney in Kansas City had issued orders to transfer the prisoners.
Hall’s anger momentarily flared after the long drive when weary deputy marshals shoved him somewhat roughly against the rear wall of an elevator in the courthouse to make room for other guards. Just as quickly, though, he assumed the sullen indifference he had wrapped himself in. Heady, who had not had an opportunity to talk to him since they left St. Louis, crowded close to him and tried to cheer him up.
“Honey, are you tired?” she asked. But he ignored her. Already, whatever anger and resentment she may have harbored against her lover and co-conspirator had all but evaporated. The pair were then put into separate cells on the eleventh floor of the courthouse. Also being held in the same jail as a material witness was Sandra O’Day.
After Hall and Heady rested, FBI agents began questioning both of them separately early that afternoon, using lie detectors and recording their answers with a tape recorder. When they were returned to their respective cells, both had to spend the night in complete darkness. Sheriff Arvid Owsley explained that all electric current to the cell block had been cut off because of exposed wiring, which either prisoner, or both, could use to commit suicide. For the same reason, he said, running water was also cut off, and guards were stationed outside both cells around the clock. Sentiment among the prison population toward the kidnappers, he said, was “vicious.”
Edward L. Scheufler, the U.S. attorney in Kansas City, announced that plans were proceeding to convene a federal grand jury. The fifty-four-year-old Scheufler, a former city councilman who had made a name for himself opposing corrupt political boss Tom Pendergast, had successfully prosecuted three out of the six kidnappers sentenced to death under the Lindbergh Law in the federal court system
He explained that his decision to try the prisoners on federal kidnapping charges instead of state charges was based on a desire to get a verdict rendered as quickly as possible. In a state court, both defendants would have to be tried separately; but in federal court, they could be tried together. Also, in a federal court there would be no doubt about the admissibility as evidence of money recovered from Hall, while in state court there might be. He added that, if Hall and Heady somehow escaped conviction on federal charges, they would still face kidnapping charges in Jackson County and first-degree murder charges in Kansas, both of which carried the death penalty.
In subsequent days, guards reported hearing both Heady and Hall weeping in their cells.
7.
A Tale of Two Cities
In succeeding weeks, prosecutors in Kansas City continued to build their case against Hall and Heady, while in St. Louis investigators were increasingly turning their attention to Shoulders’s whereabouts on the afternoon and evening of Hall’s arrest. The twofold ongoing drama in the westernmost and easternmost parts of the state, one on the banks of the Missouri River and the other on the Mississippi’s, ultimately came down to seeking answers to two questions: How soon would the kidnappers be put to death? Where was the missing ransom money?
Public opinion and prosecutors were virtually united in harboring no doubt about the answer to the first question. Bobby Greenlease’s abductors were guilty of kidnapping and murder, and would be executed in the Missouri gas chamber—sooner rather than later. (Two lone doubters were Hall, who at first worried whether he would be electrocuted in Kansas’s state prison in Leavenworth, or gassed in the Missouri State Penitentiary in Jefferson City; and Heady, who was still hopeful of a twenty-five-year sentence with parole after seven years.)
But the certitude in Kansas City was offset in St. Louis by bafflement, doubt, false leads, lies, duplicity, and dead ends, as investigators made little headway in their search for the missing half of the ransom.
The sentiments of a shocked nation were summarized by Time magazine, which noted, in reporting on the arrest of the kidnappers: “Hall disclosed the most grisly details of the whole horrifying crime, one of the worst in U.S. history.”
The headline of a front-page story in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch read: “State Officials Pressing Hunt for Marsh in Kidnaping Case,” even though the police were no longer seeking him as a suspect. Rather, they considered it significant that he had not come forward during the investigation, and simply wanted to talk to him.
In a much publicized interview with the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Shoulders claimed that Hall told him, on the night of his arrest, that he planned to kill Heady with the same gun he used to kill Bobby. Dismissing her as “nothing but a drunken bum,” Hall allegedly told the detective that she was the only person who could have been identified—thus the need to eliminate her. Shoulders also declared
that, when he was arrested, Hall had said to him, “Look, officer, you just know me as Byrne. Suppose you take one of those suitcases of money, and I’ll take the other, and walk out of here as Byrne.” Of course, said Shoulders, he had righteously rejected the offer.
Hall’s admission that he planned to kill Heady, and his offer of a bribe, were not entirely implausible. But on the face of it they were unlikely. Shoulders may have concocted these tales because he wanted only to throw investigators—and the press—off his scent. Whatever Hall’s true feelings toward Heady prior to the kidnapping, he had ample opportunity to kill her once he had the ransom—at the very moment he picked up the duffel bag containing the money when it was thrown off the wooden bridge, for example. Or even before he picked up the ransom. But Hall also knew that, once she was reported missing, or her body was found and identified, Heady’s neighbors—not to mention countless Kansas City bartenders—would certainly have been able to identify Hall as her lover. Moreover, on the night of his arrest, Hall had stubbornly denied killing Bobby, absolved Heady of blame, and confessed to the crime only six days later.
Zero at the Bone: The Playboy, the Prostitute, and the Murder of Bobby Greenlease Page 13
