Category Archives: Forensics

DID VINCENT VAN GOGH REALLY COMMIT SUICIDE?

Dutch Post-Impressionism master, Vincent Van Gogh, was a phenomenal force who helped shape modern art culture. His influence ranks with Shakespeare in literature, Freud in psychology, and The Beatles in music. Van Gogh was also plagued with mental illness, suffered from depression, and was tormented by psychotic episodes. Conventional history records that Van Gogh died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in 1890 at the age of 37. However, an independent and objective look at the case facts arrives at an entirely different conclusion—Vincent Van Gogh was actually shot by someone else, and it was deliberately covered up.

This isn’t to say that Van Gogh was murdered as in a homicide case. As a former police investigator and coroner, I’m well familiar with death classifications. The civilized world has long used a universal death classification system with five categories. They are natural death, accidental death, death caused by wrongful actions by another human being which is a homicide ruling, self-caused death or suicide, and an undetermined death classification when the facts cannot be slotted into one conclusive spot.

I’m also familiar with gunshot wounds. Understanding how Vincent Van Gogh’s fatal wound happened is the key to determining if he intentionally shot himself, if he accidentally caused his own death, or if someone else pulled the trigger which killed Van Gogh. Before analyzing what’s known about the Van Gogh case facts, let’s take a quick look at who this truly remarkable man really was.

Vincent Willem Van Gogh was born in 1853 and died on July 29, 1890. During Van Gogh’s life, he produced over 2,000 paintings, drawings, and sketches. He completed most of these in his later years and was in his most-prolific phase when he suddenly died.

Van Gogh didn’t achieve fame or fortune during his life. He passed practically penniless. It was after death when the world discovered his genius and assessed his works of bright colors, bold strokes, and deep insight as some of the finest works ever to appear on the art scene. Today, an original Van Gogh is worth millions—some probably priceless.

Vincent Van Gogh achieved artistic saint status. It’s not just Van Gogh’s unbounded talent that supported his greatness. It’s also the mystique of the man and the martyrdom mushrooming from his untimely death that robbed the world of an artist—a starving artist and a man who lived on the fine line between genius and nut.

Most people know some of Van Gogh’s masterpieces. Wheatfield With Crows may have been his last painting. Café Terrace At Night, The Potato Eaters, Irises, Bedroom In Arles, The Olive Trees, and Vase With Fifteen Sunflowers are extraordinarily famous. So is The Starry Night. (I happen to have a hand-painted oil reproduction of Starry Night right on the wall in front of me as I write this, and my daughter has Café hanging in her home.)

Most people know the story of Vincent Van Gogh’s ear. It’s a true story, but the truth is he only cut part of his left ear off with a razor during a difficult episode with his on-again, off-again relationship with painter Paul Gauguin. The story goes on that Van Gogh gave his ear piece to a brothel lady, then he bandaged himself up and painted one of many self-portraits. I just looked at this portrait (Google makes Dutch Master shopping easy) and was struck by the image of his right side being bandaged. Then I realized Van Gogh painted selfies by looking in a mirror.

And most people know something about Vincent Van Gogh’s time in asylums. This is true, too, and he spent a good while of 1889 in Saint-Remy where he stared down on the town and painted The Starry Night from later memory. The celestial positions are uncannily accurate.

In late 1889, Van Gogh moved to a rooming house in Auvers-sur-Oise near Paris. His painting production went into overdrive, and he was at the peak of his game. On July 27, 1890, Van Gogh left his room with his paints, canvas, and easel. He returned empty-handed with a bullet in his belly.

Vincent Van Gogh’s spirit left this world at 1:30 a.m. on July 29. He passed without medical intervention on his bed, and the medical cause was, most likely, exsanguination or internal bleeding. There was no autopsy, and Van Gogh was buried in a nearby churchyard the next day.

There are various ambiguous statements purported from Van Gogh. He did not admit to shooting himself or intentionally attempting to commit suicide. However, the record indicates he didn’t deny it. The record can also be interpreted that he covered up for someone else.

What is fairly clear is the description of Vincent Van Gogh’s gunshot wound. There are conflicting locations, (chest, stomach, abdomen), but this is explainable from Dutch/French to English translations. It’s highly probable that one bullet entered the left side of Van Gogh’s mid-section and traversed his intestines in a left-to-right direction. There was no exit wound and no serious spinal damage as Van Gogh had walked home from the shooting scene, up the stairs, and to his room where he expired a day and a half later.

There was no firearm found and absolutely no history of Vincent Van Gogh ever owning or operating a gun. He was a painter. Not a hunter or soldier. (Note: There was a rusted revolver found in an Auver field in 1960 which was said to be the weapon. There is no proof that it was.)

There was no suicide note or any deathbed confession. Aside from being an artist, Van Gogh was a prolific writer who documented many thoughts as he progressed from mental sickness to physical health. In late July of 1890, Van Gogh’s writings showed him to be optimistic and with plans to paint as much as possible before an anticipated period of blackness returned. Two days before his death, Van Gogh placed a large art supply order.

Suicide, in Van Gogh’s case, wasn’t surfaced in the early years after his death. There were murmurs among the villagers that “some young boys may have accidentally shot” Van Gogh as he went about his work in a nearby field. There was no coroner’s inquiry or inquest, but there is documentation of a gendarme questioning Van Gogh if he intentionally shot himself to which Van Gogh allegedly replied, “I don’t know.”

The first strong suicide suggestion came in 1956 with Irving Stone’s novel and movie Lust For Life. It was a documentary that took liberty with Van Gogh’s life and times. It concluded Van Gogh was a troubled soul—a beautiful soul—who ended his life intentionally. The book and movie were bestselling blockbusters and cemented the suicide seed to an adorning public.

It became ingrained in lore and public acceptance that Vincent Van Gogh was a desponded psychotic who suddenly up and killed himself rather than continue a tormented existence of interpreting beauty in nature and people. It was the gospel, according to Van Gogh historians, who were comfortable with a suspicious explanation.

Other people weren’t. In 2011, two researchers took a good and hard look into Van Gogh’s life and death. They had full access to the Van Gogh Museum’s archives in Amsterdam and spent enormous time reviewing original material. They found a few things.

One was a 1957 interview with Rene Secretan who knew Van Gogh well. Secretan admitted to being one of the boys spoken about by the villagers who were involved in Van Gogh’s shooting. Rene Secretan, sixteen years old in 1890, told the interviewer he wanted to set the distorted record straight that was misrepresented in the book and movie.

The interview documents Rene Secretan as saying the handgun that shot Van Gogh was his, and that it was prone to accidentally misfiring. Secretan self-servingly denied being present when the accidental shooting happened, claiming he was back in Paris and not at his family’s summer home in Auvers. Secretan failed to identify those directly involved or exactly what circumstances unfolded.

The researchers, Pulitzer Prize winners Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith who co-wrote Van Gogh: The Life, found corroborating statements placing Van Gogh near the Secretan villa on the afternoon of the shooting. They also sourced a leading expert on firearms and gunshot wounds who refuted any chance of Van Gogh being able to discharge a firearm with his own hands that could have caused the wound in its documented location.

Dr. Vincent Di Maio (a 2012 key witness in the Florida trial of George Zimmerman who shot African-American youth Trayvon Martin in a neighborhood watch altercation) concluded that Van Gogh, who was right-handed, could not possibly have held a firearm as it had to be; therefore the shot had to have been fired by another party. Dr. Di Maio also commented on the lack of reported gunshot residue on Van Gogh’s hands and clothes. In 1890, most cartridges contained black powder which was filthy stuff when burned at close range.

Researchers Naifeh and Smith also took a deep dive into what they could find on Rene Secretan’s background. They painted him as a big kid—a thug and a bully who was well known to have picked on wimpy Van Gogh throughout the month of July 1890. Secretan came from a wealthy Paris family who summered at Auvers with their second home within walking distance of Van Gogh’s rooming house.

According to the researchers of Van Gogh: The Life, Rene Secretan had seen the Buffalo Bill Wild West show in Paris, and Secretan fancied himself as a cowboy character. Secretan fashioned a costume to go with his cocky role of a western gunfighter, and he acquired a revolver that was prone to malfunction. They documented incidents where Secretan would mock Van Gogh as he painted, play pranks on him, and supply alcohol to Van Gogh who couldn’t afford it.

It was during a mocking spat, the researchers surmise, that somehow Secretan’s revolver went off and struck Van Gogh in the abdomen. According to the theory, the boys fled, disposed of the weapon, and formed a pact of silence. If this was true, the question arises of why didn’t Vincent Van Gogh report the truth, and why has the suicide conclusion remained steadfast.

Naifeh and Smith address this in their book with this quote: When all this (accidental shooting theory) began to emerge from our research, a curator at the Van Gogh Museum predicted the fate that would befall such a blasphemy on the Van Gogh gospel. “I think it would be like Vincent to protect the boys and take the ‘accident’ as an unexpected way out of his burdened life,” he agreed in an e-mail. “But I think the biggest problem you’ll find after publishing your theory is that the suicide is more or less printed in the brains of past and present generations and has become a sort of self-evident truth. Vincent’s suicide has become the grand finale of the story of the martyr for art, it’s his crown of thorns.”

As an experienced cop and a coroner, I think Naifeh and Smith are on to something. There are two huge problems with a suicide conclusion in classifying Vincent Van Gogh’s death. One is the lack of an immediate suicide threat. The other is the gunshot nature.

I’ve probably seen fifty or more gunshot suicides. All but one were self-inflicted wounds to the head. The exception was a single case where the firearm was placed against the chest and the bullet blew apart the heart. I have never seen a suicide where the decedent shot themselves in the gut, and I’ve never heard of one.

Vincent Van Gogh didn’t leave a suicide note. He made no immediate suicide threats and, by all accounts, things were going well for the struggling artist. It makes no sense at all that Van Gogh would head out for a summer’s day, begin to paint, produce a gun from nowhere, shoot himself in the stomach from the most inconceivable position, then make it home—wounded—without finishing himself off with a second shot.

If I were the coroner ruling on Vincent Van Gogh’s death, I’d readily concur the cause of death was slow exsanguination resulting from a single gunshot wound to the abdomen. I’d have a harder time with the classification. Here, I’d have to use a process of elimination from the five categories—natural, homicide, accidental, suicide, or undetermined.

There is no possibility Van Gogh died of natural causes. He was shot, and that is clear. Was he murdered or otherwise shot intentionally? There is no evidence to support a homicide classification. Did the firearm go off accidentally? It certainly could have, and there is information to support that theory but not prove it.

Suicide? Not convincing. The available evidence does not meet the Beckon Test where coroners must establish beyond a reasonable doubt that the decedent intentionally took their own life. If the death circumstances do not fulfill the requirements of the Beckon Test, then a coroner is not entitled to register a suicide classification.

This only leaves undetermined. Coroners hate closing a file with an undetermined classification. It’s like they failed in their investigation.

Unfortunately, in Vincent Van Gogh’s case—from the facts as best as are known—there’s no other conclusion than officially rule “Undetermined”.

I’m no longer a coroner, though, so I’ll stick out my neck.

On the balance of probabilities, I find Vincent Van Gogh was accidentally shot, then sadly died from this unintended and terrible tragedy.

WOULD YOU BE A GOOD POLICE INTERROGATOR?

Interrogation. Just the word elicits your vision of forcible confinement in a hot and windowless room, shoved in a wooden chair with one leg shorter than others, a bright light from a bare bulb burning over your head, and hulking forms of trench-coated detectives firing hardboiled questions in your face. The truth is different. A lot different. There’s a high skill involved in getting useful information from people, and not everyone is cut out for the job. Are you? Would you be a good police interrogator?

To start, drop the “interrogation” word. It’s not correct to say “interrogation” in today’s professional police procedures. The right terms are “interview” and “dialogue exchange”. And, they’re more applicable because the vast majority of police-civilian interactions are respectful interchanges of relevant information.

I’ve spent a good part of my life talking to people and getting information. I learned long ago that you get more bees with honey than you do with vinegar. I also learned you slide a lot further on bullshit than you do on gravel. I made those principles the core of my information-gathering days. I also practiced another fundamental rule. That’s that the best interrogators interviewers are the best listeners.

Where’s this going? I subscribe to Psychology Today. I recently read a piece by Mary Ellen O’Toole, Ph.D. in her regular column Criminal Minds where she set out ten questions with graded responses to her Are You A Good Listener Test. Dr. Mary Ellen O’Toole was a senior profiler at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and author of Dangerous Instincts: How Gut Feelings Betray Us. Here’s her short ten-question exam to see if you would be a good police interrogator. Sorry… police interviewer.

ARE YOU A GOOD LISTENER TEST

1. Typically, how emotional (frightened, insecure, angry, etc.) do I get when I am attempting to interview someone? (Rate this on a scale of 1-3)

1 = very emotional
2 = nonemotional and detached
3 = I remain interested and tempered

2. Typically, how often do I interrupt?

1 = several times during a conversation
2 = just once or twice during a conversation
3 = almost never

3. Do I say things like “What? You have got to be kidding me,” – or- “That reminds me of the time I…” – or – “You think that’s bad, let me tell you about…”

1 = frequently
2 = sometimes
3 = rarely

4. Do I roll my eyes, put my head down, shake my head back and forth, throw myself back in my chair, turn away, get up and walk away, show signs of anger or threatening behavior, or otherwise display that I am not paying attention or do not like what the other person is saying?

1 = frequently
2 = sometimes
3 = rarely

5. Do I fidget until people stop talking and then immediately respond without considering what they’ve said?

1= frequently
2 = sometimes
3 = rarely

6. Do I let my mind wander to all the other things on my “to do” list and keep thinking that I just don’t have the time for this?

1 = frequently
2 = sometimes
3 = rarely

7. Do I wait until the nanosecond when the speaker goes to take a breath to pounce on him or her with my opinions?

1 = frequently
2 = sometimes
3 = rarely

8. Do I hijack the conversation? For instance by saying something like, “Look we’ve been over this a million times. Your ideas are just not going to work. This is what we are going to do.”

1 = frequently
2 = sometimes
3 = rarely

9. I reflect the person’s thoughts and feelings back to the person I am listening to.

1 = rarely
2 = sometimes
3 = frequently

10. I ask open-ended questions to encourage the other person to talk.

1 = rarely
2 = sometimes
3 = frequently

Total Score = ______

The higher the score – the better your listening skills tend to be and the better interrogator interviewer you would be. Note: This is not a scientific test and has not been validated or otherwise vetted. These opinions are those of Dr. O’Toole and do not represent the views of the FBI.

My experience is that the key to successful information gathering is simply listening to what’s being said. Does it make sense? Does it fit? Does it make you ask more questions? Or does what’s being said to you satisfy what you’re after?

Let me know in the comments how you made out on the test!

WHO REALLY KIDNAPPED AND KILLED CHARLES LINDBERGH’S CHILD?

They call it The Crime of the Century—the 20th century that is. On March 1st in 1932, famed aviator Charles Lindbergh’s twenty-month-old son was brazenly snatched from his second-story nursery at the Lindbergh mansion outside Hopewell, New Jersey. The boy was found dead in nearby woods on May 12th. In 1934, Bruno Richard Hauptmann was charged, convicted, and executed in the electric chair for being the sole perpetrator of the crime. But was he?

The “Little Lindy Case” is an armchair detective’s delight. It’s been one for nearly ninety years and shows no sign of going away. There are dissenting sides in the Bruno Hauptmann camp. Some say he was guilty as hell. Some say he was totally innocent—as he steadfastly proclaimed up to the moment they ran 10,000 volts through his head. And some say he had a part, for sure, but other co-conspirators were involved.

Hauptmann was caught red-handed with marked ransom money as well as being linked to the crime through indisputable physical evidence. There’s no denying this. However, there were no eyewitnesses or anything other than circumstantial factors that secured Hauptmann’s fate. He never confessed and proclaimed total innocence to the end.

Were there others who kidnapped and killed Charles Augustus Lindbergh Junior or “Little Lindy” as he was known? Let’s look at the case facts that have been so well presented and preserved over the years.

Charles Augustus Lindbergh Senior was nothing special before he burst into fame. Lindbergh was the first man to fly solo and non-stop from America to Europe in 1927. A relative once said, “If it weren’t for surviving that flight, he’d have ended up running a gas station in Minnesota.”

But the world was ready for a hero like Charles Lindbergh in the pre-depression days when heroes were rare and the markets were tanking. Lindbergh was a poster boy of bravado, daring, and handsomeness and that led him to money. He married millionaire socialite Anne Morrow in 1929 and they produced a son, Charles Jr. in 1930.

Charles and Anne Lindbergh relished privacy after being world-famous celebrities. They’d hobnobbed with presidents and royalty and business leaders and everyone in the ranks of entertainment, publishing, and charity. They needed a getaway and built a home in rural New Jersey which was far from the New York madness.

A nanny laid Little Lindy to rest in his crib at nine p.m. on the night of March 1, 1932. She returned for a check at ten and the toddler was gone. Charles Lindbergh was in the home at the time and he took over—finding a handwritten ransom note near the sill of the open window. It demanded $50,000 for the child’s safe return.

The local police contacted the New Jersey State Police for help. A search of an already-contaminated crime scene (caused by the Lindbergh family interference) found three clues later proving vital. First was the note that was handled by many. Second was a home-made wooden ladder with peculiar construction thought to be used by the perpetrator(s) to climb to the second-floor window for access. Third was a wood chisel found lying on the ground below the window.

By the next day, the Lindbergh kidnapping news hit the wire and went world-wide. Masses of curiosity seekers plagued the mansion scene and any attempt to keep negotiations secret was shattered. Already, theories formed and frauds threatened to take a focused investigation into the gutter.

On March 5, Charles Lindbergh Sr. got a follow-up communication in the mail. It was also handwritten and obviously done by the first note’s hand. This led to an intermediator being appointed to negotiate with the note writer. A series of fifteen hand-written notes or communiques followed before the $50,000 in ransom was delivered to a shadowy man with a German accent in a dark New York cemetery.

Charles Lindbergh Jr.’s body was accidentally discovered on May 12, 1932. It was 75 feet off the road, 2 miles from the Lindbergh home. The remains were decomposed and consistent with death occurring at the same time of the abduction. An autopsy found a fractured skull, but the true cause of death couldn’t be established.

All law enforcement levels helped in the Lindbergh case. One was the Internal Revenue Service who devised a clever plan to mark the ransom money. They used a controlled amount of “Gold Currency Notes” that had individual serial numbers, therefore being identifiable to the Lindbergh case.

The genius of the “Gold Notes” is that the U.S. Treasury already planned to move off a gold-based currency system by 1933. This wasn’t public knowledge at the time of the ransom payment and the bills would be recognized as common tender. The IRS people knew, however, that these notes would soon be publicly recalled and note-holders would be required to cash them in or lose the value. That would force the ransom notes to be circulated instead of hoarded.

The plan worked.

Shortly after the payment, the IRS and the police distributed a serial number list of ransom Gold Currency notes to all banks in the New York and New Jersey area. Sporadically, marked bills showed up in the Bronx region but no pattern emerged. But once the Gold Note recall came, marked bills flooded the region.

In September 1934, a Bronx service station manager received a $10 Gold Currency note. He knew nothing of the trap, but he knew of the recall and protected himself against counterfeit by recording the passer’s car license number on the bill—New York marker 4U-13-41. The manager deposited the marked bill at his bank where an astute teller checked the serial number and found it was a Lindbergh bill.

The police ran the plate. It came back to Bruno Richard Hauptmann of 1279 East 222 Street in the Bronx. They surveilled the place, arrested Hauptmann leaving home, and found another marked Gold Currency bill in his wallet. The search of his home found a lot, lot more.

Bruno Hauptmann was a thirty-five-year-old illegal immigrant from Germany. He was once deported from the US because of his European criminal record—a loner and cat-burglar with an MO of using ladders to access second-story windows. Hauptmann also had a carpentry background with the skills and tools to make a wooden ladder.

The police searched Hauptmann’s premises. In his garage was over $13,000 of the marked ransom money cleverly rolled up and hidden inside specially-made wooden boxes. That included more Gold Currency notes as well as standard United States Treasury bills.

The police also found materials and tools consistent with building the wooden ladder found at the scene, a matching toolset to the scene wood chisel, and significant writing samples that linked Bruno Hauptmann to the fifteen notes written to the Lindberghs.

Bruno Hauptmann was tried before a New Jersey jury in 1935. It was the “Trial of the Century” by any standards and was a media circus. After weeks of evidence from hundreds of witnesses, the jury unanimously convicted Hauptmann of kidnapping and murdering Charles Lindberg Jr. in the first degree.

There were motions and appeals and short stays, but Bruno Hauptmann lost his life to Old Sparky on April 3, 1936. He never confessed or named accomplices. Till the switch was thrown, Hauptmann denied all involvement.

Despite what seemed like a clear-cut case, this muddied matter has had intense scrutiny since day one. It still has. There are online cults that would slit their wrists for a chance at post-death clemency for what they believe was a wrongful conviction and the execution of an innocent man.

Why do they believe that? It seems like despite the evidence and how fair the process, it’s simply impossible to convince some people of the truth when they already have a mindset to want the alternative. Here are the main evidence points in what led to Bruno Hauptmann’s conviction.

The Ransom Notes

The first note surfaced inside the room where Charles Lindbergh Jr. was abducted. It was hand-written in particular ink on particular paper. The writing was unique in that it was script with printed numerals and the signature was absolutely outstanding.

The note writer used a pattern of two colored and overlapping dots with three holes perforated through them. No doubt, this was foreplaning to identify the real kidnapper from copycats. This signature remained consistent through the subsequent fourteen more notes delivered to the Lindberghs.

Hauptmann’s known handwriting specimens matched the ransom notes. The best experts in the fields agreed on this. The defense, at trial, could not rebut this. Also, similar paper with matching tears was in his house as well as matching writing implements and the hole-punching tool. Bruno Hauptmann wrote those notes and there was no denial.

The Wooden Ladder

The homemade wooden ladder also sunk Bruno Hauptmann. It was found fifty feet from the abduction second-story window and it was unique. It was made, according to professional opinions, by someone with carpentry skills and was designed to be disassembled in three pieces so it could be transported in a passenger car.

A wood expert with impeccable credentials testified about the ladder at Hauptmann’s trial. He was able to trace wood components in the scene ladder to pieces Hauptmann had sourced at a lumber supplier Hauptmann had worked for as well as boards coming from the attic floor in Hauptmann’s house.

The expert physically matched what’s known as “Rung 16” to Hauptmann’s attic boards through wood grains, nail holes, knots, cuts, plane marks, and species. There was no question—in the expert’s or the jury members’ minds—that Bruno Hauptmann personally manufactured this ladder with materials and tools found at his home.

The Tools

The scene search at the Lindbergh residence found a wood chisel on the ground below the nursery window. It was a “Buck Brothers” brand with a ¾ inch cutting width. When the police searched Bruno Hauptmann’s garage/workshop, they found a matching set of “Buck Brothers” wood chisels. It was complete, except for the ¾ inch tool.

The police also found a wood planning tool in Hauptmann’s shop. It had a particular 2-degree bevel cutting edge with striations on the blade that physically matched the plane marks on ladder members. This was proven at the microscopic level and was a breakthrough in the courts accepting forensic toolmark evidence.

Furthering toolmark evidence, the investigation team also proved that a handsaw in Hauptmann’s tool kit cut and prepared sections of the homemade ladder. The saw kerf width, teeth settings, and stroke angle were consistent with cuts on the ladder’s members.

Then there were the nails. The nails in the scene ladder precisely matched a stock of nails found in Bruno Hauptmann’s garage. The size, shape, length, and materials were identical to what nails were in the Lindbergh ladder.

The Money

Without question, Bruno Hauptmann had the Lindbergh ransom money. And without question, no one else had a stash of it either. That’s because Hauptmann acted alone and there was no one else to share it with.

The forensic accountants did an amazing job for their time. This was before the computer and online banking days when transactions got recorded in ledgers and on carbon paper receipts. The banking sleuths followed the money and they sealed the case.

Bruno Hauptmann received $50,000 in various forms of United States negotiable currency. The forensic accounting team accounted for $49,986 of this going through Bruno Hauptmann’s hands. That was from cash-on-hand, bank deposits, transfers, withdrawals, purchase receipts, and stock market investments. The team estimated Hauptmann lost over half on bad investments.

Were Other Parties Involved in the Lindbergh Kidnapping and Killing?

The short answer is “No”. There’s not the slightest suggestion—based on evidence—that anyone else was involved in the Lindbergh plot. During Hauptmann’s trial, his lawyer Edward Reilly tried to build a smokescreen around Hauptmann being a participant rather than a killer. Reilly wasn’t the most effective barrister in the barn. His nickname was “Ed – Death House – Reilly” as he had a somewhat abysmal track-record of losing capital murder cases and sending his clients away.

No, there is no evidence of anyone co-conspiring with Bruno Hauptmann to kidnap and kill baby Lindbergh. That’s because non-events leave no evidence. It didn’t happen any other way than Bruno Hauptmann—acting alone—planned and carried out this heinous crime.

Why did he do it? Money. Pure and simple. He wanted the money and the prosecution did a marvelous job of painting Hauptmann from a pauper to a prince pre-and-post crime. He lived high off the hog for a few years after collecting the ransom, then he got piggishly careless and was caught.

How did he do it? This takes a bit of analogy. For one thing, this action of climbing to a secondary window in a high-profile mansion and stealing a child while the house is full of awake adults takes a lot of balls. Maybe a lot of stupidity, but no one anytime ever said Bruno Hauptmann was stupid.

There’s plenty of evidence that this crime was planned out far in advance. One of the ransom notes said it was planned for a year. The ladder-building—so planned that it was built in three sections so it could be disassembled and transported in a passenger car—to the ¾ inch chisel probably used to pry open the window implies planning. Then there was the child removal.

It makes no sense that a cat-burglar kidnapper would climb a rickety, three-piece home-made ladder and pry open a window to a nursery to abduct a live twenty-pound child and carefully carry him down by the same route. The most logical scenario is the perpetrator killed Little Lindy in his crib—probably by smothering or strangling— and tossed him out the window (accounting for the skull fracture), then descended to ground, picked up the deceased and took the little boy down the road where he dumped the toddler’s body in the bush.

There are details about the “Crime of the Century” that’ll never be known. But one thing’s for sure based on evidence and common sense. Bruno Richard Hauptmann really did kidnap and kill Charles Lindbergh’s child.