Public Enemies_ America's Greatest Crime Wave and the Birth of the FBI - Bryan Burrough [163]
Forty-five years later, Clegg would remember Beth Green as the only criminal he ever liked. The two had several long talks, but Green remained reluctant to discuss Dillinger. Then on Tuesday, April 10, Eddie Green lapsed into a final coma; he died the following afternoon, seven days after he was shot. When she heard the news, Beth Green began telling Clegg everything she knew.cc The names and places gushed out of her. It was from Green that the FBI first learned the names of Dillinger’s gang: Van Meter, Tommy Carroll, a man known as “Red”—she identified John Hamilton—and a vicious little twenty-four-year-old named George “Baby Face” Nelson, who Green said was “just a kid.”
But Beth Green’s knowledge wasn’t limited to Dillinger. Eddie Green did business with the Barkers, and his wife knew everyone in that gang as well. She quickly filled the sizable gaps in the FBI’s knowledge of its structure. She identified every gang member and his girlfriend, including Karpis’s teenage paramour Delores Delaney, whom Green described as “a poor dumb little thing.” For the first time agents learned of Harry Sawyer’s role in St. Paul’s criminal web, and his role as Bremer’s “finger man.” Green described Louie Cernocky’s place outside Chicago as a rendezvous point for both gangs.
At least initially, Beth Green’s encyclopedic knowledge did the Bureau little good, in part because Hoover didn’t have enough men to chase down all the leads. The Bureau’s resources were stretched to the breaking point, as Pop Nathan pointed out in a call to Hoover that week. Hoover had no choice but to put his trust in Melvin Purvis.
“Well, son, keep a stiff upper lip and get Dillinger for me,” Hoover told Purvis in a handwritten note, “and the world is yours.”
12
DEATH IN THE NORTH WOODS
April 10 to April 23, 1934
Dillinger was devastated by Billie Frechette’s arrest. In the days afterward, he searched his mind for a way to rescue her. She was too heavily guarded at the Bankers Building, he could see, but the papers said she would soon be transferred to St. Paul to face harboring charges. He decided to attempt a rescue en route. It would be a firefight, and for that he wanted bulletproof vests.
The night Billie was arrested, Dillinger walked through the backdoor of Louis Cernocky’s tavern in Fox River Grove. Cernocky grilled him a steak and handed him a bottle of whiskey, which Dillinger took to a basement bedroom. The gang had agreed to relay messages via Cernocky, and the next day the Nelsons, who had reunited with Tommy Carroll and his girlfriend in St. Paul, arrived. By the next evening, Wednesday, April 11, Van Meter and Hamilton showed up, too, with Pat Cherrington in tow.cd None of the men were wild about Dillinger’s idea of rescuing Billie, but Van Meter knew where they could find vests.
At 1:15 that Friday morning, a fifty-four-year-old police officer named Judd Pittenger was standing on a corner in downtown Warsaw, Indiana, thirty miles west of Fort Wayne. Warsaw was a sleepy town, and Pittenger, as its night patrolman, walked a sleepy beat: the odd prowler or vandal was the only break in his normal predawn routine. But when Pittenger turned at the sound of footsteps, he found two men in raincoats pointing submachine guns at him. He would later say he recognized one as Dillinger; the other was Van Meter.
“We want your vests,” Dillinger said, “and we mean business.”
Pittenger grabbed the barrel of Dillinger’s gun and struggled with him a moment, until Van Meter jammed a tommy gun into Pittenger’s back.
“Leave loose,” Dillinger said. “We don’t want to kill you.”
Van Meter snatched Pittenger’s pistol from its holster and whacked him twice over the head with it.
“Don’t hit me any more,” Pittenger yelped.
“Don’t hit him,” Dillinger said.
Dillinger ordered Pittenger to take them to the police station. They wanted access to the department’s weapons closet.
“I don’t have the