Part 6 (1/2)
”Well, always since at school, I met him at school....”
”Shanberg, during your law course at the University of Chicago, you had occasion to go over and work on the dope sheets with Nathan from time to time; is that right?”
”Yes.”
Joseph Savage picked up the questioning. Savage had always been a stickler for detail; it was important that there be no ambiguity about the student slang: ”By dope sheet, you mean that is preparatory work?”
”Briefing the course as a whole...”
”Do you remember at any time, Shanberg, of seeing a typewriter, a portable typewriter over at Nathan's house?”
”Only on one occasion; that was the last time I was there.”
”Prior to working on that portable typewriter, you worked with this Hammond typewriter; is that right?”
”Yes.”
”And who operated the typewriter?”
”Mr. Leopold, except on occasions when Mr. Leopold went to the phone.”
Morris Shanberg glanced cautiously at Nathan. The other boy returned his look and held it; there was a slight smirk on Nathan's face-it seemed almost that he was enjoying this moment.
Shanberg suddenly realized why he was here. It must be that the police had found the typewriter used for the ransom note and Nathan was denying owners.h.i.+p; Nathan was trying to link him to the typewriter and frame him for the murder of Bobby Franks!
Joseph Savage's voice broke his train of thought: ”Now, did you ever own a typewriter, Mr. Shanberg?”
”No.”
Shanberg's voice was firmer now-less hesitant, less deferential.
”Did you ever bring one over to Nathan's house?”
”No, sir.”
”Did you ever know any of the other boys to bring a typewriter over to Nathan's house?”
”No, sir.”25 The detectives allowed Morris Shanberg to leave. One by one, the three other students entered Crowe's office. Each described in turn the study group, recalled the portable Underwood in the library, and denied any knowledge of its provenance. Howard Oberndorf was the last of the four to speak, and as Oberndorf got up to leave the room, Joseph Savage turned back to Nathan. The a.s.sistant state's attorney felt a sense of futility in questioning the boy further-Nathan was sure to stonewall him-but, nevertheless, there was no harm trying. ”Nathan, I understood you to say that the typewriter had been taken out again by the boy that brought it in.”
”That was my a.s.sumption.”
”You just a.s.sumed that?”
”Yes.”
”You don't know whether it was actually taken out or not?”
”No, I do not.”
”Or you don't know when it was taken out, if it ever was taken out?”
”No, I don't.”
”Do you ever remember the typewriter coming in?”
”I do not.”
”Do you remember under what circ.u.mstances it could have come into the house?...It would hardly come into the house without some comment at the time the machine was brought there; what I mean is, that one would hardly come in and leave a typewriter at your house without saying something about it?”
”I should not think so.”26
THERE WAS ONE MORE POSSIBILITY. The previous November, he had begun a project with a friend, Leon Mandel, to translate Pietro Aretino's fifteenth-century p.o.r.nographic novel The previous November, he had begun a project with a friend, Leon Mandel, to translate Pietro Aretino's fifteenth-century p.o.r.nographic novel I Ragionamenti I Ragionamenti into English. This had been a provocative decision on Nathan's part. Aretino's into English. This had been a provocative decision on Nathan's part. Aretino's Dialogues Dialogues between two women contained graphic descriptions of sodomy and b.e.s.t.i.a.lity; the sensationalism of the narrative overshadowed the work's literary value. Ernest Wilkins, professor of Italian and dean of the undergraduate college at the university, had warned Nathan not to go through with the translation, but Nathan persisted nevertheless. Both Nathan and Leon Mandel hoped to persuade ”some friend of ours to publish a very small little edition, two or three hundred copies, or subscriptions to be circulated only among people who had a legitimate interest in the literature of the times,” but it was a more demanding task than either had antic.i.p.ated: they completed fewer than twenty pages before abandoning the translation. between two women contained graphic descriptions of sodomy and b.e.s.t.i.a.lity; the sensationalism of the narrative overshadowed the work's literary value. Ernest Wilkins, professor of Italian and dean of the undergraduate college at the university, had warned Nathan not to go through with the translation, but Nathan persisted nevertheless. Both Nathan and Leon Mandel hoped to persuade ”some friend of ours to publish a very small little edition, two or three hundred copies, or subscriptions to be circulated only among people who had a legitimate interest in the literature of the times,” but it was a more demanding task than either had antic.i.p.ated: they completed fewer than twenty pages before abandoning the translation.27 Leon Mandel had, however, frequently come to the Leopold home to work on the translation, and Nathan suggested that he may have brought the Underwood typewriter with him.28 But Elizabeth Sattler had told the police that she had last seen the portable as recently as two weeks ago: that is, around the middle of May, just one week before the murder of Bobby Franks. Leon Mandel had been married on 30 April and had immediately sailed for Europe on his honeymoon. One month later, he was still on his honeymoon, so if the maid had seen the typewriter only two weeks ago, then obviously Mandel had not taken it out of the house. So, Nathan, where was that typewriter?
”I don't know.”
”If it was Mandel's machine, it would still be there, wouldn't it?”
”Yes.”
”These boys say that they never had a machine. Where is that machine?...You kept denying, right up until a few minutes ago, that you knew anything about it.... It was a machine one of these boys brought in, you didn't know when, where or how, and he took it out, and you didn't know when, where or how.”
”Yes.”
”Then you were confronted with each boy, weren't you?”
”Yes.”
”And after the boy told you you were a liar, you changed your opinion, didn't you?...The fact that that letter that Franks got was written on the same machine that some of your stuff was written on, and the fact that experts say that the same person wrote it might be a d.a.m.ned good reason for you in losing that machine.”
”Certainly.”
”And knowing nothing about it?”
”Certainly.”29
NATHAN L LEOPOLD HAD NOW BEEN in police custody for almost thirty-six hours, from Thursday afternoon through the evening of Friday, 30 May. Yet at the Leopold home on Greenwood Avenue, the family's faith in Nathan's innocence remained unshaken; the entire affair was still, in his father's eyes, an unfortunate mistake that would inevitably be corrected. in police custody for almost thirty-six hours, from Thursday afternoon through the evening of Friday, 30 May. Yet at the Leopold home on Greenwood Avenue, the family's faith in Nathan's innocence remained unshaken; the entire affair was still, in his father's eyes, an unfortunate mistake that would inevitably be corrected.
Was there anything the family could do to help Nathan in his predicament? Sven Englund, the family chauffeur, told Nathan's father that Nathan could not possibly have abducted Bobby Franks and driven him out to Wolf Lake on 21 May; Englund had spent most of that day working on Nathan's car, fixing the brakes. He remembered the day well; he had been worried over his little girl, his nine-year-old daughter. She had been ill that day, and his wife, Alma, had taken her to the doctor to get a prescription. Englund had worked on the car in the early afternoon, and it had stayed in the garage the entire day.30 The family received the news with triumph. Nathan's father, two brothers, and aunt-all gathered that evening at the house on Greenwood Avenue-knew nothing of his alibi, that he had driven to Lincoln Park in his car. They knew only that Nathan was innocent and Sven Englund's testimony proved it; how could Nathan have been driving around Chicago with the body of the murder victim if his car was in the garage all day?
That evening Sven Englund waited on a bench outside the state's attorney's office in the Criminal Court Building. Robert Crowe was busy and could not see him. Could Englund not come back the following day, Sat.u.r.day? No, it was important-even if he could not speak to Crowe, the chauffeur would like to talk to one of his a.s.sistants. Englund was persistent; and eventually he managed to tell his story to one of the a.s.sistant state's attorneys.