Public Enemies_ America's Greatest Crime Wave and the Birth of the FBI - Bryan Burrough [246]
Thursday, September 6
Midnight came and went as the gang clustered in Karpis’s living room, debating how long their homes would be safe. There was talk of leaving town immediately, but that made no sense. At the very least, they needed their guns. Between them the four men had a single machine gun and the pistols they carried. Freddie wanted his clothes.
They drove to Freddie’s house on West 171st Street, cruising by without seeing police. Freddie ran inside. He returned with several Gladstone bags filled with his guns. From there they drove to Harry Campbell’s flat, thinking they could retrieve another machine gun. From the street they saw three men inside.dy Karpis cursed. The machine gun was the one they had used in the South St. Paul robbery. If it was identified, there would be no doubt who they were. They returned to Karpis’s bungalow to debate their next move.
The squad car commanded by Lieutenant Gloeckner pulled up outside 4419 West 171st Street a little after four. Officers pounded on the door. No one answered. The cops forced their way in. Inside, Gloeckner and his men found papers indicating the occupants were Mr. and Mrs. Earl Matterson, Gladys Sawyer, and one other man. But what drew Gloeckner’s attention were the contents of a bedroom drawer. In it he found a notebook. The pages were covered with penciled notations. It was a route map between two locations. The FBI would later identify it as a getaway map.dz
Beside the notebook Gloeckner found a rolled-up piece of paper that turned out to be the fingerprint portion of a torn-up Wanted poster. On the back was a notation that “Fred Barker” was wanted for murder; later that day, a clerk at the police headquarters would identify the fingerprint as Fred Barker’s. Gloeckner’s boss, Captain Frank Story, realized the Barker Gang must be hiding in Cleveland. After the sun rose he hurriedly canvassed other detectives for any stories of suspicious new faces in town. One detective told him of a man his sister-in-law had mentioned. He lived on a bungalow on 140th Street. On a hunch, Story had the woman review photographs of the Barker Gang. Immediately she chose a picture of Alvin Karpis. Story dispatched a car to the 140th Street bungalow.19
As police closed in, the four gang members remained at Karpis’s bungalow in the hours before dawn, debating their next move. “The best damn thing we can do now is somebody leave and get into Toledo and get an apartment,” Karpis said. “First thing in the morning we’re gonna duck in some place till we decide what to do, but you can bet we’re gonna have to get the hell out of here.”
Dock and Campbell took one car and left for Toledo, promising to meet them by the Casino Club later that day. Karpis called his boss, Shimmy Patton, and asked him to check the women’s situation. Then he and Freddie switched off the lights and sat in the dark, waiting. Delores actually managed to go to sleep. At dawn Karpis was pacing in a back room when Delores materialized and said there was a car out front. Karpis peeked out the blinds. It was a Ford coupe. He recognized the men inside as Patton and Art Heberbrand. Karpis went out to the car, glancing down the street as he walked.
“You guys are gonna have to get out of here in the next half hour,” Patton warned. Patton had called a friend on the force. He said the women hadn’t talked. But little Francine had said plenty. One call to St. Paul would be enough. FBI men would arrive within hours.
“Just get the hell on out of town,” Heberbrand said. “In a few weeks, if you want, come on back and we’ll let you know how things stand around here.”
“How do things look now?” Karpis asked.