THE LINDBERGH KIDNAPPING SUSPECT NO. 1. Lise Pearlman

had placed planks on the ground around the house to walk on. Without a flashlight someone out in that yard on that stormy night might have easily tripped. Lindbergh guided their way out 75 feet or so to a spot where the Hopewell officers’ flashlights revealed a three-part sectional ladder — two parts lying together and one about 9 feet away. Constable Williamson was surprised that Lindbergh led them directly to the ladder. Lindbergh then pointed out to the two local policemen a chisel and dowel on the ground not far away. Back in the house at 10:53 p.m. Lindbergh called the state police again to say he had just located two ladders in the yard.

      The head of the New Jersey State Police was 36-year-old Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. (His son, American General H. Norman Schwarzkopf, would lead the Gulf War coalition in 1991 that ousted Saddam Hussein from Kuwait.) When Lindbergh’s first call came into headquarters in Trenton, Schwarzkopf had sounded the alarm right away via a teletyped broadcast. With Lindbergh’s blessing, the first allpoints bulletin was issued well before any state police arrived at the scene. By 11 p.m., New Jersey State Police were stopping and searching all cars headed toward Manhattan via tunnel, bridge and ferries and at checkpoints on the highways to Pennsylvania. Every license plate number they saw was recorded.

      The Coast Guard and all airports were also placed on alert. New Jersey Governor Harry Moore immediately sent telegrams to his counterparts in every state in the region seeking their help. The news was already on every radio station nationwide and set in type for shocking front-page headlines on March 2 around the world from Paris and London to Moscow, from Shanghai to Cape Town, South Africa and all the way to Sydney, Australia.

      New Jersey State Trooper Joseph A. Wolf arrived twenty minutes after the local police. It was then about five minutes to eleven. He sent for other troopers to join him and interviewed all the members of the household. He noted in a detailed report that night that the ground was saturated at the time of the crime; it was “very dark”; the temperature was about 34 to 40 degrees Fahrenheit and “a strong wind was blowing.” He also learned from Lindbergh that when Lindbergh first visited the nursery after Betty Gow reported his son missing from his crib, Lindbergh immediately noticed a window on “the east wall of the nursery was unlocked with the right half of the outside shutter open” and saw that a plain envelope sat on the sill. He told Trooper Wolf the “envelope had been left there by the person or persons who carried away his son.”

      Lindbergh assured Wolf that he did not disturb anything in the room but went outside accompanied by Olly Whateley and explored the grounds. Wolf reported that they found footprints near the nursery and the ladder “some distance from the house” on the east side of the house before Lindbergh instructed Whateley to call the Hopewell police, before the State police were alerted, and before Lindbergh sent Whateley to town to get a flashlight. The state police would never note the significance of this chronology or apparently wonder how the two men found anything in the yard that night in the pitch dark.

      The State Police fingerprint expert, Trooper Frank Kelly, arrived from Trenton around midnight — the same time as Lieutenant Arthur Keaten and Major Charles Schoeffel arrived to take over command of the investigation as ordered by Colonel Schwarzkopf. Lindbergh summoned Betty Gow to bring a knife to the nursery for the fingerprint expert. She later testified that was the first time she saw an envelope on the windowsill. She left the nursery as others gathered around the fingerprint expert.

      Kelly slit open the dime-store envelope to find a ransom letter in poor English. Lindbergh swore all those present to secrecy and had an officer read the note aloud. The note demanded $50,000 in small bills (about $730,000 today) for the boy’s return and stated delivery instructions would be transmitted in two to four days. “We warn you for making anyding public or for notify the polise. The child is in gute care.”

      Colonel Schwarzkopf greatly admired Lindbergh and would eagerly do whatever he could for the national hero in the biggest case by far in the agency’s history. Adhering to the warning in the ransom note was no longer possible. Police across the nation had already been notified. The State Police looked to Lindbergh for guidance on what to do next. Anne was reassured by the claim in the ransom note that her son was being cared for. It indicated the toddler was alive. The police had already observed there were no blood stains in the room — though one reporter would falsely claim otherwise. But Betty Gow had noticed something else that deepened her own anxiety. Although the toddler’s crib blanket was still pinned in place, the sheets now bore small rips where they were pinned. It looked like Charlie had been roughly pulled out by his neck or head. She feared for his safety.

      Both of the Lindberghs told Joe Wolf they heard nothing unusual from the time Lindbergh got home until they discovered their son missing. The state trooper wrote down that the child was 29 inches tall. He asked Lindbergh “whether he had any suspicion as to who committed the crime or whether he could recall any incident such as strange noises or actions of his dog which was in the house that night.” His report that night summarized Lindbergh’s response: “He had no suspect nor was he able to recall anything at the time by which he might be able to fix the time of the crime.” The same was true of the Whateleys and Betty Gow — no odd noise heard by anyone in the house. Nor had their highstrung terrier ever barked until the police and reporters started arriving.

      Kelly methodically went over every likely surface in the room for fingerprints. He was amazed to find none anywhere in the nursery, including the crib and the windowsill or on the ransom note. Even if the kidnappers wore gloves, some prints — primarily of Betty Gow and Anne Lindbergh — should have been left behind in the nursery. But no usable prints were found that night. One of the officers commented, “I’m damned if I don’t think somebody washed everything in that nursery before the print men got here.”

      Lieutenant Louis Bornmann was sent to retrieve the ladder. It was so heavy it took him two trips to bring it into the house. Kelly found no fingerprints on it either. Amazingly, he could not even see any mud on the railings or rungs. In addition to alerting the police, Lindbergh had immediately summoned his lawyer Henry Breckinridge from New York. Henry and his wife Aida arrived around 2 a.m. after first detouring to Princeton University to ask Breckinridge’s 21-year-old stepson, Oren, to join them. Although the Breckinridges had themselves been there twice, Henry did not think he could locate the farmhouse in the pitch dark without Oren’s help navigating the countryside. Oren had heard the news of the kidnapping from the nursery over the radio but thought at first it must be a false rumor. As far as Oren knew when he left on Sunday, Anne and her son were planning to head back to her mother’s estate in Englewood on Monday morning as they had always done before.

      It turned out that Henry Breckinridge would not have had much of a problem that night finding the farmhouse on his own. The Lindberghs’ property was lit up like a Christmas tree with all the lights on indoors, people milling around out in the yard with flashlights, and headlights of reporters’ cars and police vehicles parked in the long driveway. That in itself was extraordinary for the locals. Only one out of ten families in the vicinity even had electricity.

      Hearst reporter Laura Vitray and several other journalists had made a beeline to Central New Jersey from Manhattan as soon as they heard the startling news bulletin. The reporters found they had open access to the Lindbergh estate. They parked in its driveway and stood in the yard peering in on the family and staff in the uncurtained living room.

      Soon Detective John Fogarty, Lindbergh’s former bodyguard, arrived to assist Breckinridge. Both planned to stay at the farmhouse for as long as needed. Lindbergh turned down an offer from Princeton’s President to head a search of the nearby area with college students. He rejected, as well, the suggestion that they immediately assemble a team of bloodhounds to scour the area. Instead, in the wee hours of the morning, Lindbergh formed his own small search party composed of three officers and several volunteers.

      Vitray and her colleagues were leaving the estate at about 3 a.m. when they encountered Lindbergh standing by his car. He told Vitray’s two male companions: “Boys, I rely on you to stay off the estate and not annoy me. For my part, I promise to give you a good break.” He got in his car and called out “So long” with a smile and a wave. The reporters looked at each other in surprise: “Hell, that is what you would call nonchalant.” Another added, “The Lindberghs are like that, they say. They never show