Joe Bruno's Mobsters - Six Volume Set (41 page)

BOOK: Joe Bruno's Mobsters - Six Volume Set
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T
haw, Harry Kendall

             
This story would be
a tragic one if it didn’t involve two men who were undoubtedly creeps. Illustrious creeps, but creeps nevertheless.

One was a world-famous archit
ect, and the other a rich scion from an even richer family. There are no nice guys here and the girl in the middle, although she was considered the most beautiful woman of her time and one of artist Charles Dana Gibson’s famous “Gibson Girls,” was no lily-white lassie herself.

So why do we care? Simply because it was the most deliciously decadent murder story of the early 20
th
Century.

             
On June 25, 1906, it was high society’s night out. It was the opening of the new musical
Mamzelle Champagne
, on the outdoor roof garden of Madison Square Garden, which at the time was bounded by Fifth and Madison Avenues, and 26
th
and 27
th
Streets. The structure, which included an amphitheater on the ground floor, was designed by world-famed architect Stanford White. In fact, White had a front-row table that night, where he sat by himself to enjoy the show, which was not going over too well with the crowd, since people were milling about from table to table, kibitzing, instead of paying attention to the festivities.

Suddenly, the audience heard three loud shots. At first, they thought it was a part of the show. But when they saw White topple to the floor, his head encased in a pool of blood, they knew this scene was for real.

Harry Kendall Thaw, a spoiled, rich punk, had casually walked over to White, pulled out a pistol from beneath his long black coat, and plugged White three times, twice in the shoulder and once through his brain.

After he fired his final shot, Thaw screamed at White, “You deserved this! You ruined my wife!”

Seeming to not be in any particular hurry, Thaw casually pointed the gun up over his head, and he strode to the elevator. Thaw took the elevator down and joined his wife, the beautiful actress Evelyn Nesbit, in the lobby by the elevator.

Because
Mamzelle Champagn
was quite unentertaining, Thaw and Nesbit had left with another couple moments before the shooting. Nesbit did not realize her husband did not ride down the elevator with her. Nesbit heard the shots, and a few seconds later, when her husband strode out of the elevator holding a smoking gun, she screamed, “Good God Harry, what have you done?”

Back on the rooftop garden, the stage manager was trying to sort out exactly what had transpired. He jumped on a table and shouted to the orchestra, “Keep on playing! And bring out the chorus!”

The musicians, actors, and actresses, dumbfounded over a real-life murder being perpetrated right in front of their eyes, sat or stood dumbfounded. A doctor who was in attendance rushed to White’s body. White’s face had been disfigured from the powder burns, and the doctor announced with great certainty that White was indeed dead.

Down in the lobby, a fireman in attendance wrestled the gun away from Thaw, who did not offer much resistance. Moments later, a policeman arrived
, and he immediately arrested Thaw. The policeman brought Thaw to the nearest police station, which was located in the Tenderloin District, an area known for its gambling, prostitution, and various other crimes, both violent and non-violent. When Thaw arrived at the police station, he identified himself as John Smith, a student at 18 Lafayette Square in Philadelphia.

The desk sergeant asked Thaw, “Why did you do this?”

Thaw seemed disinterested. “I can’t say why,” he said.

By this time, several news reporters, who were familiar with Thaw, had followed him to the police station
, and they identified him to the police by his real name. Thaw immediately clammed up, and he refused to say another word unless he was represented by an attorney.

The following day, the killing of Stanford White was on the front page of every newspaper in New York City. The
New York Times
, usually staid and proper, ran this blaring headline:

 

THAW MURDERS STANFORD WHITE!

Shoots him on the Madison Square Garden rooftop

ABOUT EVELYN NESBIT

“You ruined my wife,” he cries and fires.

AUDIENCE IN PANIC

Chairs and tables overturned in a wild scramble

For the Exits

 

Stanford White, who was born in 1853, was the most famous architect of his time. White was a partner in the architectural firm of McKim, Mead, and White, for which he designed houses and mansions for the rich and famous. White also designed the upscale gated community, Seagate, in Brooklyn. Besides designing Madison Square Garden, White alsodesigne
d
t
he Madison Square Presbyterian Church, the New York Herald Building, the First Bowery Savings Bank (at Bowery and Grand Street), and the Washington Square Arch. The final two White achievements still stand to this day.

However White, despite his e
xalted status, was a quirky man who had several fetishes, some bordering on illegal. Even though he was married, White was a man-about-town, who courted several young ladies, most of them young enough to be his daughter. It was his encounter with a 16-year-old Evelyn Nesbit that was the cause of his demise.

Evelyn Nesbit was born Florence Evelyn Nesbit on Christmas Day 1884, in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania. Her father was a struggling lawyer, who died in 1893 leaving his wife and daughter in considerable debt.

Even at a young age, Nesbit was a stunning beauty. She began modeling in Pittsburgh, but she and her mother decided it was best they move to New York City to enhance her modeling career. Almost immediately, Nesbit became a hot New York City item. She modeled for such famous photographers such as Frederick S. Church, Herbert Morgan, Gertrude Kasebier, Carl Blenner, and Rudolf Eickemeyer.

Nesbit’s beauty was such, newspaperman Irvin S. Cobb described Nesbit as having, “The slim, quick grace of a fawn, a head that sat on her flawless throat like a lily on its stem, eyes that were the color of blue-brown pansies and the size of half dollars, a mouth made of rumbled rose petals.”

In 1901, Nesbit met White for the first time. Nesbit and a girlfriend, who was accompanied by another man, were invited to have lunch at White’s apartment on W. 24
th
Street. Shortly after they finished their meal, Nesbit's girlfriend’s male companion left. White then invited the two girls to an upstairs room, where he kept a red velvet swing. Like a father doting on his two young children, White gave both girls a turn on his swing, gleefully pushing them back and forth, until their legs almost touched the ceiling.

“He had a big Japanese umbrella on the ceiling,” Nesbit said. “So when he swung us very
high up in the air, our feet passed through the umbrella.”

White became smitten with Nesbit. Using her mother as a chaperon, White dated Nesbit quite often. During this time, White was the perfect gentleman, and he tried to make sure Nesbit had every advantage as she
pursued her career in modeling and in acting.

However, everything changed when Nesbit’s mother decided to visit friends in Pittsburgh. White was so magnanimous, he even paid for Nesbit’s mother’s trip. By this time, Nesbit had gotten a bit part in the play
Floradora.
On the second night that her mother was gone, White sent Nesbit a note at the theater, inviting her to a party at his apartment on W 24
th
Street. When Nesbit arrived at White’s apartment, she was surprised no one else was there.

“The others have turned us down,” White told Nesbit.

“Then he poured me a glass of champagne,” Nesbit said at Thaw’s trial. “I don’t know whether it was a minute after, or two minutes after, but a pounding began in my ears. Then the whole room seemed to go around.”

Nesbit lost consciousness,
and when she awoke, she was laying in bed, naked. The room, in which the bed was located, was completely mirrored, even on the ceilings.

“I started to scream,” Nesbit said. “Mr. White tried to quiet me. I don’t remember how I got my clothes on, or how I went home, but he took me home. Then he went away and left me. I sat up all night.”

The following day, White visited Nesbit at her apartment. He found her there in an almost hypnotic state, just staring out the window.

“Why don’t you look at me, child?” White said.

“Because I can’t,” she said.

White told Nesbit not to worry. “Everyone does those things,” he told her.

White also told Nesbit her fellow starlets in Floradora
all were involved in sexual escapades with assorted men. White told Nesbit the most important thing was not to be found out. He made Nesbit promise not to say anything to her mother about what had transpired in his apartment the night before.

Harry Thaw was born in Pittsburgh in February 1871, the son of coal and railroad baron William Thaw. As a child, Thaw shuttled in and out of several schools. He was an insolent child, considered by his
teachers not to be very bright and a troublemaker.

Yet, because he was the son of William Thaw, Harry Thaw was admitted into the University of Pittsburgh, supposedly to study law. However, Thaw was not much of a college student, so his father used his influence to get him transferred to Harvard University. At Harvard, Thaw did little more than drink, carouse with the ladies, and play
nightlong poker games.

Thaw left Harvard without a degree, and he became an expert
at getting into trouble. It was about this time that Thaw began his systematic drug use. Thaw consumed large amounts of cocaine and heroin, and it was rumored that Thaw was heavy into “speedballing,” which was the process of injecting a combination of cocaine and heroin into a vein.

High as a kite, Thaw once rode a horse into a New York City nightclub from which he had been banned. Adding to his reputation of being an out-of-control lunatic, Thaw also drove a car through a display window of a department store, lost $40,000 in a single poker game, drank a full bottle of the narcotic laudanum, and hosted a decadent party in Paris, where the majority of his guests were the top whores in town. The tab for this party was said to be more than $50,000.

When Thaw’s father passed away, Thaw was dismayed to discover, that even though he was left $5 million of his father’s $40 million estate, it was stipulated in the senior Thaw’s will that his son would only get an allowance of $200 a month. This small allowance would continue until Thaw showed he was responsible enough to handle such a large sum of inheritance money.

In 1905, Thaw became smitten with Nesbit. Thaw courted Nesbit with much enthusiasm, and when White found out about Thaw and Nesbit, he warned Nesbit to stay away from Thaw; telling her that Thaw was an erratic and dangerous man. White knew that Thaw maintained a New York City apartment in a brothel. White also knew that Thaw entice
d young girls into his apartment, where he would whip them in a bizarre sex routine that left the girls in conditions that would sometimes require hospitalization.

However, Thaw could not be discouraged from pursuing Nesbit. He repeatedly begged Nesbit to marry him, and she consistently refused.

While they were on a cruise together, Thaw became outraged when Nesbit again refused to marry him. In an act of a madman, Thaw whipped Nesbit like he did the other young girls in his New York City apartment. During this whipping, Nesbit confessed to Thaw about the manner in which he had lost her virginity to White. Thaw said he still loved her and wanted to marry her anyway. Despite the fact that Thaw had whipped her, and was certainly not of sound mind, Nesbit married Thaw on April 4, 1905.

After they were married, Thaw maintained an extreme hatred for Stanford White. So contemptuous of White because of what White had done to Nesbit, Thaw forbade his wife to even mention the name “Stanford White.” Thaw insisted that Nesbit refer to White as, “The Bastard” or “The Beast.” Yet, Nesbit, more often than not, simply referred to White as “B.”

While Thaw was in prison awaiting trial for the murder of White, Thaw’s mother, known in the newspapers as “Mother Thaw,” was in England visiting her daughter, the Countess of Yarmouth. Upon hearing of her son’s predicament, Mother Thaw announced that she was going back to the United States to help her son.

“I am prepared to pay one million dollars to save my son’s life,” Mother Thaw told the press.

Part of Mother Thaw’s strategy was to use her considerable wealth to orchestrate a campaign in the press to discredit Stanford White. Suddenly, several newspapers began writing exposés on White, portraying him as a tyrannical abuser of young girls. Mother Thaw went so far as to hire a press agent to generate newspaper publicity detrimental to White and favorable to her son.

One particular story, Mother Thaw paid the press to print, was extremely damaging to White’s credibility, decency, and honor (if he had any to start with).

It seemed White had become infatuated with a 15-year-old girl named Susie Johnson. White had met Johnson at a wild party, at which Johnson had sprung from a large cake, almost totally naked. That night, White fed Johnson enough champagne to render her quite drunk. When Johnson became so inebriated she was barely conscious, White took Johnson back to his apartment, and he did to her what he had done to Evelyn Nesbit. Soon after, White banished Johnson from his apartment, and he threw her out into the street, totally broke.

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