Fergus Mason - The Perfect Crime: The Real Life Crime that Inspired Hitchcocks Rope (Stranger Than Fiction, #5)

The Perfect Crime

The REAL-LIFE Crime That Inspired Hitchcocks Rope

Stranger Than Fiction Series #5

Fergus Mason

Absolute Crime Press

ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA

Copyright 2020 by Golgotha Press, Inc.

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Introduction: Death of A Schoolboy

Chicago - May 21, 1924

I t was nearly 5:30 and Bobby Franks, walking briskly down Ellis Avenue, was late. He was supposed to be home by five on a school day, but he had a habit of letting the time run away from him. The 14-year-old had been in Dutch with his parents a few times already this year and didnt want another talking to from his father. Even more, he didnt want to have to look at the disappointed look on his mothers face again. They didnt exactly watch the clock, though, and usually allowed a bit of slack. Nothing would be said if he was home before dinner, he hoped.

Bobby really hadnt meant to be late, but like he often did hed joined a pickup baseball game after class. The Harvard School, a private prep school in Chicagos up market Kenwood district, was popular with local Jewish families. Bobbys parents were converts to Christian Science, and not all that popular in the neighborhood, but hed never had any trouble fitting in. It was a good school and the tutors were happy to supervise games after the last bell rang, even on an unseasonably cool day like this, but that didnt help Bobbys timekeeping. Still, he lived on the corner of Ellis and 51st and he was nearly at 49th already. He could make it in five minutes.

Just before he reached the junction of 49th he heard a shout, Hey, Bob! Turning, he saw a green Willys-Knight tourer at the curb; in the back seat he recognized Dick Loeb, an acquaintance whose family socialized with his own. Want a ride home? Loeb called.

Franks thought for a moment. Hed been taught not to take rides from strangers, and although Loeb wasnt a stranger - Bobby sometimes played tennis with him on the court at his house - wasnt there something just a little bit creepy about him? Anyway it was only a block and a half to his home and while cool the weather was dry. He shook his head. Thanks, but Id just as soon walk.

Loeb insisted. Jump in for a minute anyway. I want to ask you about that tennis racket youve been using. Im thinking of getting one for my brother Tommy.

Well, that seemed harmless enough. Bobby replied, Sure, I guess, and walked over to the car. You know Babe? Loeb asked, waving a hand towards the driver. Bobby, this is Nate Leopold. Nate, my good friend Bobby Franks. Bobby said hi to Leopold, and then climbed into the front seat; Leopold reached over and closed the door. Well just take a turn round the block while we talk, OK? In front Leopold eased off the clutch and the Willys-Knight pulled away from the curb.

Bobby waited for Loeb to start talking about the racket, but the young man said nothing. He seemed almost expectant, as if he was waiting for something. Bobby felt sudden unease. These guys were creepy sure enough, and maybe hed been right first time. He remembered some of the rumors at school about how Loeb and a friend - maybe this Leopold - were queer for each other. It might have been better to stay out of the car. Surely they wouldnt do anything right here in the street, though. Then, as Leopold turned left down 50th, he realized that the curtains were up on the side windows. He barely had time for that to sink in when Loeb calmly leaned forward and clamped a hand over his mouth.