Annie Got His Gun

Annie Got His Gun

Newark, N.J., May 21 — Police Capt. Thomas J. Rowe was shot and killed today in his office at First Precinct headquarters, and Chief John Haller said a tall, red-headed woman identified as Mrs. Ann Powers was being held for questioning.

 

Haller said Rowe and the woman walked into First Precinct headquarters shortly after 4 a.m. and went to the captain’s office. Ten minutes later Lieut. William Ville, on duty at the information desk, heard a single shot and saw the woman running from the office.

Wilkes-Barre Times Leader, the Evening News, May 21, 1948

Thomas RoweIn the wee hours of the morning of May 21, 1948, after an evening spent tavern crawling, Ann Powers and her married lover, Police Captain Thomas Rowe, arrived at the police station in Newark, New Jersey. The couple headed to Rowe’s private office where their conversation turned into an argument after Rowe did what his adult daughter had been begging him to do; he told Ann their affair was over. Neither of the lovers was sober but Ann managed to grab Rowe’s service revolver.

Despite the drink, Ann’s hand was steady and her aim was excellent. She got one shot off before an officer heard the commotion and raced to the office. “Get me to a doctor,” Rowe said, before collapsing on the floor. He died an hour and a half later.

Ann fled and was immediately captured. All she was willing to admit was the obvious — there had been a shooting, but she insisted she hadn’t pulled the trigger. She described herself as a “friend” of Rowe’s and refused to believe that the bullet wound had been lethal. “Prove it,” she said, asking to be taken to the morgue. When she saw the body of the 55-year-old Rowe, she showed no emotion.

Rowe, a 33-year-veteran of the force, was rated one of Newark’s “top men.” He was one of the officers present when gangster Dutch Schultz was arrested in 1935. However he’d also been involved in an embarrassing incident in 1937 when a 22-year-old girl was wounded while sitting with him in a car. It was reported that she brushed against Rowe’s pistol and it went off, wounding her in the thigh. What the pair was doing together in the car wasn’t specified, but it’s a safe bet they weren’t reading the bible.

Ann_Powers_mugshot39-year-old Ann was described in the news as a “shapely redhead.” (A redheaded woman — of course she was a temptress with a temper!) Ann was a waitress who’d been married for nine years to a local undertaker. She was estranged from her husband at the time of the shooting. She pleaded innocent to the charge of second-degree murder and was held for trial. In the middle of her trial she changed her plea to guilty to manslaughter. “Did you shoot Captain Rowe?” the judge asked. “Yes sir,” she said.

The judge accepted Ann’s plea and sentenced her to nine years in the Clinton Reformatory on November 17, 1948. As the court attendants led her from the courtroom she screamed hysterically. Rowe’s widow and daughter were in attendance and had no comment.

Featured image: news photo of Ann Powers taken October 18, 1948. Collection of the author.

Trenton Al

Trenton Al

He was known as “Trenton Al”, “French Al” and “Albert St. Claire.” His real name was Francis Alphonse Voullaire. His crimes were mostly of the white-collar variety — embezzlement, bribery, forgery, passing worthless checks — Al didn’t like to get his hands dirty. Held as prisoner #209 by the Jersey City Police, his measurements and mugshots were taken on October 5, 1901. Though he was five feet eight inches tall, his derby hat, worn high on his head, made him look taller.

The youngest son of a wealthy family, Al was born in 1863 in St. Louis, Missouri. His father, Seymour Voullaire, was a successful criminal attorney. However wealth does not necessarily buy happiness and his parents’ marriage was extraordinarily stormy. His mother, Ann Catherine — known as “Kitty” — was said to be very appealing to the opposite sex; at any rate she took a lot of lovers. After trying to kill one of Kitty’s lovers in a pistol duel — in which he was injured — Seymour had enough. Despite being Catholic, in 1867 he and Kitty divorced. While Al was still a child, another of his mother’s lovers murdered her second husband in an effort to secure the lady for himself. (The man was convicted of the crime and sentenced to death).

One would think that was enough drama for a lifetime, but no! In 1883 another lover of Kitty’s, Horace Shepard, suffering from depression and remorse over his relationship with Kitty, murdered her and then turned the gun on himself. It was quite a scandal — the two lovers were found in dead in bed in their fashionable New York City rooms. He left a note saying they would be “happier in death.”

Al married young and, unlike his parents, he stayed married. His wife, Annie, raised their six children while he cheated on her with a series of floozies, some of whom were involved in his illegal exploits.

Voullaire Sing Sing

Sing Sing Prison Admission Register for Alphonse Voullaire. New York State Archives.

He was well educated and had honest employment, often as a bookkeeper or clerk, but Al’s penchant for criminal activities inevitably got him into trouble. A forgery conviction in 1892 landed him in Sing Sing Prison for two years. Following his release from prison, he was arrested for writing bad checks. Then he compounded the problem by trying to bribe officials to get out of jail.

Alphonse Voullaire_back_marked

Bertillon Card of Alphonse Voullaire (back). Collection of the author.

In 1902, claiming to be a major player in New York City criminal circles, Al persuaded a New York Herald newspaper reporter to help him to pull off some robberies and sell the proceeds to fences. The idea was that they would bribe NYPD detectives to look the other way, proving the detectives’ complicity in the crimes. The reporter would get a great story and Al would get some of the loot. The plan backfired when detectives (possibly tipped-off by the paper) arrested Al and his reporter colleague instead of taking bribes. The absence of listings for him in city directories between 1902 and 1908 may indicate Al served another stint in prison for the Herald debacle.

After 1908 Al went by his given name — Francis — and worked as a self-employed “traffic expert” in New Jersey, where he lived with his long-suffering wife and children. It’s hard to say what a traffic expert did back then and it’s impossible to know if “Trenton Al,” whose life certainly started out badly, left the bad life completely behind.

Featured image: Bertillon Card of Alphonse Voullaire (front). Collection of the author.