Her Sinful Slacks

Her Sinful Slacks

Evelyn Bross, 19 years old, 2754 Jackson Boulevard, charged with violating a city ordinance by appearing publically in men’s clothing, was placed under psychiatric supervision until July 15 at a hearing before J. M. Braude in Women’s court yesterday. Judge Braude explained that there could be no objection to women wearing slacks as long as the garb wasn’t used for impersonation purposes.

Chicago Tribune, January 16, 1943

Nineteen-year-old Evelyn “Jackie” Bross was part of the war effort on the home front — she worked as a machinist at a defense plant in Chicago. In her line of work it was practical to wear pants — blue flannel trousers were what she preferred — along with sturdy oxford-style shoes. In fact Jackie hadn’t worn a dress or even a skirt since 1937 when she was 13 years old. As for her short hair, well, it was comfortable and she thought it looked good combed back with a little hair oil. She’d never worn make-up and she wasn’t about to start now.

Bross goes to court in pants. Amendment offered. Pic. - NewspapeWhy should other people get to tell a girl what to put on in the morning and how to style her hair? Wasn’t the war effort all about keeping America a free country and helping other countries become free too? Questions like these burned in Jackie’s mind when the police hauled her in to the Women’s court for violating the “Public Peace and Morals” ordinance, a municipal code that “prohibited persons from wearing the clothes of the opposite sex in public.”

Jackie, who lived with her parents, Walter and Helen Bross, and  ten siblings in an apartment on Jackson Boulevard, vehemently denied the accusation that she was trying to impersonate a male. “If I dress like a girl I’ll look like a boy and I’ll be picked up more often for impersonating a girl,” she commented matter-of-factly.

Judge Braude was not unsympathetic to Jackie’s plight. “I think the fact that girls wear slacks should not be held against them when they are not deliberately impersonating men,” he said. “Styles are changing.”

Change was afoot in more than just fashion. With the majority of men fighting in World War II, women were indispensible workers in munitions factories.

RosieTheRiveter_RosieJust three months after Jackie was arrested, on May 23, 1943, the Saturday Evening Post published Norman Rockwell’s iconic illustration “Rosie the Riveter.” Rockwell depicted a muscular, Michelangelo-inspired woman taking a quick break from her factory work to munch on a sandwich. She has massive arms, a huge neck and sits gloriously atop a wooden post, dressed in (pause for sudden intake of breath) a pair of overalls! She looks entirely comfortable in her body and not the least bit feminine, though no one would mistake her for a man. But there was no outcry of protest about the fact that Rosie was depicted in pants when the illustration appeared. In fact the image was so popular that the magazine loaned it to the Treasury Department for use in war bond drives.

Judge Braude pointed out that another young woman, who was arrested for wearing pants at the same time as Jackie, looked “feminine” thanks to the cut of her pants and the styling of her hair. He let her go without a penalty. Jackie, however, was released on $25 bond and ordered be placed under the “psychiatric supervision” of Dr. David B. Rotman for six months. The judge also instructed her to cover up her short hair with a headscarf.

Americans from coast to coast supported Jackie’s cause. In her hometown, Alderman William J. Cowhey agreed that she shouldn’t be penalized for wearing pants. He offered an amendment to the municipal code, stipulating that wearing clothing of the opposite sex was illegal only if the person did so “with the intent to conceal his or her sex.” The city council immediately approved it.

In July 1943, Judge Braude put Jackie and a friend, Catherine Barcz, who lived in the Bross home, on probation on a “morals” charge. The women had met each other at the defense factory where they both worked as drill press operators. At the court hearing their boss testified that both were exceptionally fine workers. Regardless of their work ethic, Catherine was married and Judge Braude ordered her to move out of the Bross abode and return to her husband.

The morals charge was likely the result of Dr. Rotman’s “psychiatric supervision.” The implication was that the two women were lovers, so the court stepped in to separate and penalize them. The court’s interest in controlling what Jackie wore had evolved into exerting control over her sex life. Perhaps this was the purpose of the “Public Peace and Morals” ordinance from its inception.

Bross tells of her favorite film - Newspapers.comFast-forward 33 years to 1976. By then Jackie had moved to Elgin, a northwest suburb of Chicago. A news reporter interviewed her for a light piece about favorite films. Jackie said she liked Ingmar Bergman movies, with her favorite being the Swedish director’s latest film, “Face to Face.” The film, about a psychiatrist driven to the brink of insanity by unpleasant memories from her childhood, was an interesting choice given the court-imposed psychiatric supervision and penalty that Jackie endured in 1943.

By 1976 no one in America looked twice at a woman wearing slacks or pants of any type. Headscarves had become popular too. Decriminalization of homosexuality was still a ways off in the future.

Jackie Bross died in 2004 in Manteno, Illinois.

Featured photo: Acme Newspictures photo of Jackie Bross at the Women’s Court in Chicago, taken January 8, 1943. Collection of the author.

Granite Man Walks

Granite Man Walks

After a pathetic Christmas day spent along the banks of the drainage canal in the vain hope of clearing up the mystery surrounding the disappearance of her mother, Mrs. Kate Mitchell Trostell, 11 year old Eleanor Trostell was taken to the detective bureau last night to confront Arthur Foster, charged with the murder of her mother.

 

All through the night and into the early hours of the morning, the child alternately sobbed and pleaded with him to reveal her mother’s fate.

Chicago Tribune, December 26, 1922

The days when a detective could bring a kid into an interrogation room and keep her there for hours in order to wring a confession out of a murder suspect are long gone. Also gone are the days when a newspaper photographer was allowed to take posed photos of the interrogation, including the chief of detectives (in this case Michael Hughes) smack in the middle of the photo.

Evidently finding an unbiased jury was not a major concern in Chicago during the 1920s.

Kate Trostell, a widow, hadn’t been seen since December 2, 1922, when she failed to come home after her evening shift at the Chicago Western Union office. Her family — two sisters and a brother — was convinced that Arthur Foster had murdered her.

The police grilled Arthur for days on end. Twice they brought in Kate’s 13-year-old daughter, Eleanor, to confront him in jail. When her sobs and pleas didn’t crack him she ran over to him, flung herself into his lap, twined her arms around his neck and begged him to bring her mother back for Christmas. “I’d like to honey, but I don’t know anything about her,” he said.

Foster and Kate photo - Newspapers.comArthur was a truck driver who’d dated Kate and asked her to marry him. He continued to pursue her even after she cooled on him and tried to end the relationship. Kate’s family and coworkers claimed Arthur was a violent man who’d chased her, shot at her and thrown rocks at the window of her office.

The police found blood on the running board of Arthur’s car and on a blanket in his vehicle. At the time it was impossible to determine whether or not the blood was Kate’s. They also found a yellow pencil — the sort she used at the telegraph office — with her teeth marks on it in the car. Arthur said that Kate often rode in his car and the pencil proved nothing.

Arthur insisted he had no idea if Kate was alive or dead but he loved her and wouldn’t have harmed her. He said he hadn’t seen her the night she went missing but he knew she’d been depressed and talked about killing herself. He believed she might have done what she often threatened to do — throw herself into the Chicago Drainage Canal. Beyond that Arthur had nothing to say. In fact he was a man of so few words the newspapers dubbed him the “granite man.”

In late December the police dragged the canal, where they found Kate’s coat and purse. It didn’t bode well for her making it home for the New Year.

Kate's body found in drainage canal - Newspapers.com

Kate’s body surfaced at the dam where the canal ended, in Lockport, Illinois, on January 23, 1923. The deputy coroner said she was alive when she went into the water, but there was a bruise on her forehead and several more on her knees and hands. Her injuries might have resulted from a violent struggle before she went in, but they also could have occurred during the fall. The police theory of her death, which had been that Arthur killed Kate and threw the body into the canal, changed to Arthur hitting her on the head, throwing her into the water alive and watching her drown. It would have taken a granite man full of hate to commit that crime.

A witness claimed to have heard a woman scream near the canal the night Kate went missing. That, along with the blood and pencil in Arthur’s car and that he’d phoned her the evening she vanished was the sum total of evidence against him.

Arthur was found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to hang. His attorney appealed on the basis that the evidence was circumstantial and that the state hadn’t proven that Kate had been murdered. A judge agreed and ordered a new trial.

The second trial never happened. In October 1926 the state dropped the case and Arthur walked out of jail a free man. The following year he married a widow whose name, as fate would have it, was Katherine.

Kate’s daughter, Eleanor, grew up, got married and raised a family.

“Go get ‘em Mike” Hughes became the head of the Chicago Police Department in 1927. He resigned after only a year in office but remained with the department until 1935, when he retired.

Whether Kate’s death was the result of murder or suicide remains an open question.

Featured photo: news photograph taken for the International Newsreel Corporation of the police interrogation of Arthur Foster, December 14, 1922. Collection of the author.

Gambling with Gangsters

Gambling with Gangsters

Large amounts of money have been found cleverly concealed about the persons of J. J. Kellogg and J. MacDonald, held here for questioning. The men were arrested Wednesday as suspicious characters.

— The Daily Times (Davenport, Iowa), October 12, 1931

Nothing says “crook” quite like cash concealed in your clothing. One man had $1400* ($23,172) in hundred dollar bills sewn in the lining of his coat sleeve. His pal had $560 ($9,269) in hidden compartments in the instep and heel of his shoe.

They were spotted hanging around the downtown streets of Washington, Iowa, on the evening of October 8, 1931. Earlier in the day they’d checked into the Colenso Hotel on the town’s main drag. The coat cash man said his name was J. J. Kellogg and James McDonald was who the shoe cash man claimed to be. After the pair booked into the hotel, they’d inquired about what time the local banks opened their doors.

Naturally the cops wanted to know who they were and what they were up to.

J. J. Kellogg, who looked like he walked out of central casting for the role of a two-bit gangster in an Edward G. Robinson film, stuck out like a sore thumb in Washington where most of the townsfolk were farmers. With the fedora, cigar, lean, hungry face and suspicious eyes — he might as well have had “gangster” tattoed on his forehead.

He was taken into custody for having false license plates on his car. The police then discovered that one of the many names he used was Riley Gaffigan. They suspected that Riley and his buddy James had been part of a gambling con pulled the previous January in Springfield, Illinois.

Abe Lincoln Hotel Springfield

Hotel Abraham Lincoln

The victim of that con was Myrtle Tanner Blacklidge, the tax collector for the second wealthiest district in the United States — the northern part of Illinois, which included Chicago. Myrtle went to the Hotel Abraham Lincoln in Springfield on January 22, 1931. There she played the card game faro with three men in a hotel room. The men told Myrtle she’d won $207,000 ($3,426,258) but they claimed her win was “on paper.” They wanted Myrtle to fork over $50,000 ($827,598) cash to replace a check she’d provided to get into the game. Only then, they said, could they give her the winnings.

Though she had a well-paying job, Myrtle had expensive tastes and was desperate for cash. She’d lost both her adult son and her husband to illness within weeks of each other the previous year. She borrowed the $50,000 in $1000 bills from a friend — defeated Chicago mayoral candidate, Edward Litsinger. Of course Litsinger, like any Chicago pol worth his salt, expected something in return for the loan. Myrtle promised him $10,000 ($165,519) of her winnings.

She rejoined the card players and handed over the $50,000 cash, but she was unable to resist a little more gambling. She lost the whole $50,000 but figured she still had $157,000  ($2,598,659) coming to her. The men told her to wait in the room while they went to get the remainder of her winnings. They never reappeared. “I realized I had been duped,” she later commented.

Litsinger said Myrtle lied to him about why she needed the money, telling him it was to complete a “business deal,” not to gamble. He promised to sue her. Then it was revealed that it was actually Litsinger’s nephew, Fred Litsinger, the tax reviewer for northern Illinois, who’d handed over his uncle’s cash. Fred had done a bit of gambling himself at the time. Hoping to avoid bad publicity for his family, Edward dropped the lawsuit.

Myrtle resigned from her tax revenue job due to the scandal.

George Perry, known in Chicago as “Big George” Parker, was shot to death in his home in South Bend, Indiana, a few months later. Myrtle identified him as one of the three men who’d taken her in the faro game.

The authorities thought they’d found the remaining two men when the Iowa police arrested Riley and James. In addition to the cash hidden in their clothes and shoes the men carried a substantial number of used cashier’s checks with the details erased out. Police believed their current racket was to start poker games with local farmers, paying out their losses with the bogus checks.

Not wanting to personally confront the gangsters, Myrtle and Fred were unwilling to go to Iowa to identify the men. Myrtle looked at photos of Riley and James and said she thought they weren’t the ones. The men each paid hefty $500 ($8,275) fines for driving with illegal license plates on their car and were released. They melted into the criminal underworld and weren’t heard from again under the names they’d used in Washington, Iowa.

No one was ever arrested for the faro game con.

Myrtle and pals

Myrtle’s troubles continued when the wife of a policeman sued her for $100,000 ($1,837,537) in 1934, claiming Myrtle had stolen the affections of her husband. Torrid love letters from Myrtle to “Denny, Darling” were produced in court as evidence. The jury awarded $7,500 ($140,815) to the wife, and Myrtle, unable to pay, was sent to jail. Ironically the policeman’s wife was required to pay Myrtle’s jail boarding fees — 50 cents ($9) per day!

In her last years Myrtle lived in a Chicago nursing home, where she wrote for the monthly newspaper, “The Optimist.” She died at the home in 1958, aged 79.

*Note: U.S. dollars were converted to 2018 values using an inflation calculator and are listed in parentheses.

Featured photos: mugshots (?) identified on the reverse as “James J. Kellog, alias Billie Gafney, Laferty.” Collection of the author.

Flying Scissors

Flying Scissors

A quarrel between two teen aged sisters over clothing and boy friends ended yesterday when one of the sisters hurled a pair of long bladed scissors which penetrated the breast of the other, killing her.

Chicago Tribune, October 28, 1947

The three Zawistowski sisters sat in the kitchen of their family’s apartment on a cool, overcast Monday in late October. The apartment was located on West Evergreen Avenue, just east of Humboldt Park, in a tight-knit Polish neighborhood in Chicago.

Jozef and Magdalena Zawistowski were Polish immigrants with six children, all of whom were born in America. Irene, a junior in high school, had just turned 16. Rose, age 13, was still in elementary school. Adeline, age 18, had graduated from high school and was employed as a bookkeeper for an auto parts company.

The younger girls were home from school for lunch and Adeline was off work because she wasn’t feeling well. Magdalena and John, the girls’ older brother, were in another room. Jozef, a house painter, was away at work.

The girls’ conversation turned to clothes and boy friends, which reminded Adeline that one of her favorite dresses was missing from her closet. She suspected Irene had taken it without her permission and loaned it to a neighborhood girl. She thought Irene should ask before borrowing her clothes and told her so. The conversation took a nasty turn. Insults went back and forth between the two sisters.

Rose, who didn’t like to listen to her older sisters fight, took refuge in her bedroom. But the walls in the apartment were thin and she still heard a rising tide of anger in their voices.

Suddenly it got very quiet. Then Rose heard a cry and the sound of something falling. She ran back to the kitchen where she was confronted by a nightmarish scene.

Adeline

Adeline lay on the floor with one of the blades of the scissors from the table sunk into her chest. Irene stood over her older sister with a look of horror on her face. Then she started to scream hysterically. The others heard the commotion and ran to the kitchen. Magdelena bent down and cradled her daughter in her arms, telling her it would be all right. John called the doctor. He also phoned for the police.

Dr. Slawinski lived less than two blocks from the Zawistowski apartment. He came as soon as he could but it was too late. The blade had punctured one of Adeline’s lungs and most likely it also ruptured a large blood vessel in her chest. All the doctor could do was pronounce the young woman dead.

Meanwhile the police arrived at the apartment and took Irene into custody.

scissors“I got so mad I just picked up whatever I could and threw it at Adeline,” Irene told Capt. Daniel Healy and Lt. Joseph Mooney of the W. North Avenue Police Station. “I loved my sister,” she added. When Irene made her statement to the police she hadn’t yet been told that her sister was dead. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she screamed.

Irene was held in a juvenile facility until the grand jury heard the case two days later. The jury listened to the evidence in order to decide whether or not Irene should be indicted in the death of Adeline.

The only eyewitness to the events was Irene. Did she pick up the scissors and stab her sister? Or did she, as she told the police, throw the scissors at Adeline in a fit of blind rage with no intention of really harming her?

Could a blade from a pair of household scissors that were thrown from a distance of eight feet pierce a person’s clothing, go through the chest wall and the lung’s tough pleural membrane to penetrate far enough to cause death? It took the grand jury only half an hour for to decide that it could have happened that way. Adeline’s death, though tragic, was declared to have been “accidental.” No charges were filed against Irene.

Irene collapses

Immediately after the grand jury announced its verdict, Irene collapsed into the arms of Minnie Attardo, the policewoman in charge of her. After the verdict sank in, Irene became hysterical and had to be carried out of the courtroom.

Adeline’s funeral was two days later, on Halloween day.

The incident was shocking enough that newspapers around the country carried reports about it, but after the grand jury rendered its verdict and Adeline was buried, the story ended as far as the public was concerned. It wasn’t reported if Irene was returned to her family or if she ended up in a foster home or juvenile facility.

I hope Irene got the help she needed for her emotional instability and anger management issues, not to mention the lifelong heavy burden she had to carry of responsibility in her sister’s death.

Featured photo: retouched news photo of Irene Zawistowski and Policewoman Minnie Attardo after the announcement of the grand jury verdict. Collection of the author.

Finding Beverly

Finding Beverly

Five members of a ring alleged to have passed at least $200,000 in stolen forged checks in the last two years were in custody Friday while a sixth person was sought.

Chicago Tribune, August 20, 1960

A gang of forgers from the south side of Chicago worked a lucrative check fraud for a couple of years, beginning in 1958. First they stole blank checks from small businesses, mostly gas stations. Next they stole customer information file cards from chain stores, such as Sears and Woolworth’s, made copies of the cards and returned them the same day. Then the blank checks were filled in with the customer information from the stolen cards and cashed at the chain stores and currency exchanges in the suburbs west of the city.

It worked because store managers didn’t necessarily require I.D. to cash checks for regular customers and there were no computers to verify credentials. But it took nerve and some acting skills.

the forgery gang

The gang consisted of a Patrick “Black Pat” Iannino, a chaffeur, and his girlfriend, Salline Carroll, a dancer, along with Frank Simmons, John Sellinger, Robert McAffee and Beverly Drake. All were described in the newspapers as narcotics addicts. In addition to feeding their drug habits they used the money they stole “living it up, wearing silk suits, driving large cars, etc.” according to one news account.

Paul NeweyTheir lavish lifestyle aroused the suspicions of Paul Newey. Paul, the son of Assyrian immigrants to the United States, was born in 1914 in Minneapolis. He earned a law degree and then applied to work for the FBI, but they wouldn’t hire him due to his “ethnic appearance.” Instead Paul went to work for the Cook County State’s Attorney in 1957. “He was the most persistent investigator I’ve ever known,” said former Chicago Daily News criminal courts reporter Ed Baumann. “He was like a bulldog; he didn’t give up. He pursued things even when he didn’t have to.”

As the summer of 1960 waned, Paul and his team kept the gang under surveilance. “It’s unusual for narcotics addicts to have that kind of money,” he said, “so we started watching them on the assumption they were peddling dope. It was only last week when we made the arrests that we discovered the true source of their income.”

The five gang members Paul’s team arrested — Pat, Salline, Frank, John and Robert — signed statements admitting their guilt in the thefts.

Beverly Drake was the one that got away, or at least she was the one Paul couldn’t locate in August 1960. I can’t say for certain that her mugshot is from her arrest for the check forgery scam, because if she was eventually caught it wasn’t reported in the newspapers. There’s no information on the back of the photo other than her name and F/W/. However the photo is from that time frame and it came from a group of mugshots taken in Chicago.

With her short platinum blond hair and pretty features Beverly looks to me like the doppelgänger of actress Shelley Winters. Whereas Shelley usually played an edgy dame whose mouth got her into trouble, Beverly looks clean cut, trustworthy and only mildly annoyed to have her mugshot taken. It seems plausible that honest-looking Beverly was the gang member who did most of check cashing. Was she a “dope addict?” Only the slight circles under her eyes hint at a darker side to her life.

I don’t know if Paul Newey, who died in 2001, ever found Beverly. I found her with the help of John Van Noate. John is a vintage photography collector and dealer and he picked up Beverly’s mugshot for me at a photo show I couldn’t attend. If you’re looking for interesting vintage photos for your collection you might want to get in touch with him.

Featured photo: Beverly Drake, undated mugshot. Collection of the author.

The Family Gems

The Family Gems

SPRINGFIELD, Ill., July 13–Paroled from the Pontiac reformatory, Arthur Groves, alias Harry Williams, a negro, has repaid former Governor Yates, his benefactor, by stealing $3,000 worth of diamonds from the former executive’s handsome new residence in Washington Park. The robbery occurred on June 7 last, at a time when the former Governor was in Kentucky attending the Powers trial as an associate attorney. News of it has only just leaked out through local police officers.

The Inter Ocean (Chicago, Illinois), July 14, 1905

Mrs. Yates

Mrs. Yates, early 1890s

After discovering that her jewelry was missing, Helen Yates, wife of former Illinois governor, Richard Yates, searched the coat of her servant, Harry Williams, and found her brooch pinned in the lining. This “confirmed her suspicions that someone about the place has committed the robbery.” Rather than calling the local police, she telephoned Superintendent Mallory, a family friend who ran the Pontiac State Reformatory where Harry had been incarcerated before he was paroled and hired to work as a coachman for the Yates family. She told Mallory she suspected Harry of stealing the family gems, consisting of “solitaires, brooches and clusters of diamonds.”

Harry disappeared from the Yates’s newly built, architect-designed mansion before Mallory arrived to investigate. Mrs. Yates stated later that when she called the superintendent from the first floor phone in her home, she suspected Harry had been on the second floor, eavesdropping on the phone extension, therefore he realized she suspected him of the theft. Or maybe she called from her bedroom and Harry listened in on the first floor phone. Reports varied about who was on which phone.

Though he was last seen working in the carriage house behind the main house, the fact that Harry went missing after the phone call confirmed his guilt as far as the newspapers were concerned. Mallory offered a reward of $100 for Harry’s capture and the Yates family upped the ante with $150 of their own cash.

A local police detective was sent to try to locate and arrest Harry. He tracked him to several cities in northern Illinois but lost him en route to Chicago.

Harry Williams_back_marked

It was reported that Mallory found Harry in Louisville two months later and “it was necessary to shoot him to capture him.” Harry survived the shooting and was sent back to the state reformatory on a stretcher. There were no reports on whether or not he recovered from his injuries.

Mallory found a couple of the stolen rings in the possession of a Chicago woman named Carrie Washington, however the rest of the loot, according to Carrie, had been pawned. Mallory recovered most of the jewelry from a State Street pawn shop and returned it to Mrs. Yates.

The Yates family lived in their Springfield mansion until 1928. A ghost, it is said, now inhabits the house, pacing the attic on nights when the moon is full, possibly in search of lost family gems.

Featured photo: Harry Williams, 1905 Bertillon card. Collection of the author.

Photo of Mrs. Yates from the collection of the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library & Museum.

New Dillinger Molls

New Dillinger Molls

Brady gave me a diamond. I always considered we were married. He didn’t kill a policeman. He was sweet and kind. He was good to me. He slept like a baby at night. I love him. I’ll marry him, even if I go to jail, to the electric chair or to hell.

— Margaret Barry, quoted in The Daily Reporter (Greenfield, Indiana), June 12, 1937

Margaret Barry Larson met gangster Al Brady during “the whirl of Mardi Gras” in February 1936. The pair took a shine to each other, so 24-year-old Margaret dumped her husband and small son and headed north with Al.

brady_fbi_photo

Al Brady

Alfred James “Al” Brady got his start in crookery in 1930 at the age of 20 when he stole a car, was caught and sent to the Indiana Reformatory in Pendleton. Prisons are good places to learn how to commit crime and Al was an excellent student. After his release he recruited a group of like-minded young men, including Clarence Lee Shaffer and James Dalhover, to join his gang of thieves and killers. Al’s goal was to fill John Dillinger’s shoes. (Dillinger, a fellow Hoosier, had been killed by G-men in 1934.) Often driving stolen cars, the Brady gang pulled off more than 200 armed robberies, killed four lawmen and a civilian and wounded many others between 1935 and 1937.

Margaret Barker newsWith Margaret in tow the gang went to Ohio in March 1936. There they held up jewelry and grocery stores. In the course of robbing one grocery store, Al killed a young store clerk in cold blood. The gang escaped to Indianapolis but was traced there by police. During an attempt to arrest them, Sergeant Richard Rivers of the Indianapolis Police Department was shot and killed by one of the gang. They fled to Chicago with their loot, valued at $68,000.

Al and Margaret spent the next few days together at a Chicago hotel. Police located them and took the lovebirds into custody on April 30, 1936. James was also arrested in Chicago and Clarence was captured in Indianapolis.

Some of the loot was found in the gang’s safe deposit box in Chicago, however James revealed to police that a group of armed Chicago gangsters had stolen a portion of the takings from gang’s various holdups. About $6000 of the booty was discovered in the home of jewelry salesman Jack Becker, who rented the deposit box for the gang and acted as their fence. Becker and his wife Laura, who were considered to be part of the Brady gang, were arrested.

Margaret and Laura were described in the news as being the “new Dillinger molls.”

According to James, the gang was captured because Margaret insisted Al stay one more night with her at their Chicago hotel. When a man makes a serious error in judgement it makes sense to blame a woman, right?

Margaret, who’d been held on a vagrancy charge, was released from custody and reportedly went to work at a Chicago tavern. Despite her proclamations of eternal devotion and her professed willingness to follow Al to hell, the two never saw each other again.

Brady shootout

Bodies of Al Brady (closer to camera) and Clarence Lee Shaffer after the Bangor shoot out. Bangor Daily News.

Al, Clarence and James were sent back to Indiana to face a murder charge for the death of Officer Rivers. On October 11, 1936, all three men escaped from the jail where they were held. They spent the next 12 months committing a spree of robberies, primarily on the east coast, culminating in a shoot out with the FBI in Bangor, Maine, on October 12, 1937. Al and Clarence were killed in the gun battle — the bloodiest in Maine’s history. James was returned to prison in Indiana, where he was electrocuted the following year.

Featured photo: Margaret Barry (in hat), Laura Becker (seated) and policewoman Mary Henneberry, April 30, 1936. Collection of the author.