odds, he rounded up the voluminous and invaluable Liberty magazine material that became the backbone of this novel. The interest of Liberty publisher, Bernarr MacFadden, in the Lindbergh case resulted in book-length multipart stories by Governor Harold Hoffman, John Condon, Paul Wendel, Evalyn Walsh McLean, Lt. James J. Finn and Lloyd Fisher, as well as individual articles by Edward J. Reilly, Fulton Oursler and Lou Wedemar. One of these articles, “Before the Body Was Found She Said the Lindbergh Baby Was Murdered,” by Frederick L. Collins, was the best source of information on the involvement of psychics (other than Cayce) in the case. All in all, the Liberty articles constitute over a thousand pages of coverage on the Lindbergh case. Lynn also dug out numerous individual articles on the case, as well as background on Hassel and Greenberg, Edgar Cayce and John Hughes Curtis. A big tip of the fedora to this methodical, obsessive researcher.
Mike Gold, a Chicago history buff with an eye for detail, provided a vivid impromptu telephone tour through LaSalle Street Station. Dominick Abel, my agent, provided some tough, valuable advice midway that helped shape this novel. My keen-eyed editor Coleen O’Shea deserves special thanks for her longtime interest in, and support of, Nate Heller and his coauthor; thanks also to editors Charles Michener (who, among much else, helped come up with a title) and Marjorie Braman.
Other tips of the fedora for support along the way go to my old high-school pal Jim Hoffmann (who provided a videotape of the 1976 TV docudrama, The Lindbergh Kidnapping Case); Janiece Mull for Norfolk background material; Bob Randisi for New York reference material; loyal Heller fan William C. Wilson for assorted background details; and booksellers Patterson Smith and Ed Ebeling, for digging up rare vintage books, magazines and newspapers covering the case.
Mickey Spillane provided information about Elizabeth, New Jersey, and put me in contact with his friend Walter Milos, who did extensive research and legwork on the Elizabeth Carteret Hotel. Thank you, gentlemen.
While all were useful, none of the books contemporary to the Lindbergh case proved entirely reliable: Jafsie Tells All! (1936), by Dr. John F. Condon, is predictably pompous and often at odds with Condon’s courtroom testimony; The Hand of Hauptmann (1937), by J. Vreeland Haring, is a biased account by one of the prosecution’s many handwriting experts, although one who never testified; The Great Lindbergh Hullabaloo (1932), by Laura Vitray, is an odd exercise in unintentional whimsy by a former Hearst reporter who apparently felt the kidnapping was a hoax; and The Lindbergh Crime (1935), by Sidney Whipple, is a United Press reporter’s pro- prosecution account. Whipple, though occasionally wildly inaccurate, does present the most detailed contemporary book-length account; and his later The Trial of Bruno Hauptmann (1937) presents a valuable edited version of the court transcript.
The latter-day nonfiction accounts are also a mixed bag; each has its merits, but each also has its limitations.
The most coherent, straightforward and readable narrative is the admirably researched The Lindbergh Case (1987) by Jim Fisher; unfortunately, ex-FBI agent Fisher is almost laughably pro-law enforcement, and in interviews has referred to the New Jersey State Police as mounting an “inspired” investigation. Also, Fisher tends to either omit any pro-Hauptmann evidence or relegate it to a footnote.
The most literate Lindbergh account is The Airman and the Carpenter (1985), by celebrated British crime historian Ludovic Kennedy; but Kennedy’s logical, convincing defense of Hauptmann has a rather narrow focus—John H. Curtis and Paul Wendel are barely mentioned, and Gaston Means and Evalyn McLean appear not at all.
The groundbreaking Scapegoat (1976) by New York Post reporter Anthony Scaduto was an especially important resource for this novel; but Scaduto concentrates on the Ellis Parker/Paul Wendel aspect of the case, with Curtis getting rather short shrift and Gaston Means (and Mrs. McLean) absent but for one brief mention. On the other hand, his coverage of Isidor Fisch is extensive and impressive. Scaduto jumps around considerably; readers looking for a nonfiction balance probably need to read Fisher and Kennedy and Scaduto.
The first major account of the case was George Waller’s bestseller Kidnap (1961), a readable if conventional and occasionally inaccurate pro-prosecution depiction. Annoyingly, the nearly 600-page nonfiction novel does not have an index.
An extremely important source was journalist Theon Wright’s In Search of the Lindbergh Baby (1981), which is the only one of these books that pulls in all the disparate elements of this convoluted case, and attempts to make sense of them. Like Scapegoat, however, Wright’s book is scattershot, and is best appreciated by readers already familiar with the basic facts.
My candidate for the best nonfiction look at the Lindbergh case is “Everybody Wanted in the Act,” a lengthy article by crime reporter Alan Hynd, published in True (March 1949); it has been reprinted several times in various anthologies, including Violence in the Night (1955) and A Treasury of True (1956). Hynd covered the case for True Detective Mysteries and was the coauthor of Evalyn Walsh McLean’s Liberty magazine serial, “Why I Am Still Investigating the Lindbergh Case” (1938). His cynical reporter’s-eye view—neither pro- prosecution nor pro-Hauptmann—is refreshing; he was also one of the first to voice doubt about the identity of the small corpse found in the woods of the Sourland Mountains. My account of the ghostly doings at Far View derives from this article, and from Hynd’s coauthored piece with Mrs. McLean.
The portrait of Evalyn Walsh McLean herein is drawn from the Liberty magazine serial mentioned above, and Mrs. McLean’s autobiography Father Struck It Rich (1936, cowritten with Boyden Sparkes). Also helpful was Blue Mystery: The Story of the Hope Diamond (1976), by Susanne Steinem Patch. The romance between Evalyn and Nate Heller is, of course, fictional, and I know of no parallel to it in Mrs. McLean’s life.
The portrait of Charles and Anne Lindbergh was drawn largely from their own writings: We (1927), The Spirit of St. Louis (1953), and Autobiography of Values (1977) by Charles; and Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead (1973) by Anne. Also beneficial were Lindbergh: A Biography (1976), Leonard Mosley; and The Last Hero: Charles A. Lindbergh (1968), Walter S. Ross.
Helpful in depicting Ellis Parker were The Cunning Mulatto and Other Cases of Ellis Parker, American Detective (1935), Fletcher Pratt, and a 1938 Liberty magazine series, “Whatever Happened to Ellis Parker?” by Fred Allhoff. Helpful in depicting Gaston Means was Spectacular Rogue: Gaston B. Means (1963), by Edwin P. Hoyt, and “Gaston Means, King of Swindlers,” a three-part serial in Startling Detective Adventures (1933) by Judson Wyatt.
Frank J. Wilson is the subject of two books, both of which were useful in determining the role of the federal government in the Lindbergh case: Special Agent: A Quarter Century with the Treasury Department and the Secret Service (1956) by Wilson himself with Beth Day, and The Man Who Got Capone (1976), by Frank Spiering. Similarly useful were The Tax Dodgers
