aw There’s a chance Ted Hinton’s car stories, especially the gravel truck episode, were apocryphal. He told them in a 1978 book, Ambush, published shortly after his death.

  ax Today the site lies just outside the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport.

  ay Touhy would be convicted the following February of the Jake Factor kidnapping.

  az These conversations are taken from the Karpis transcripts.

  ba After his parole, Van Meter lingered around East Chicago. He met Nelson in Indiana Harbor, and FBI files indicate he bunked with both Dillinger and Nelson for periods that summer. Eager to flee Indiana, where he felt police knew him, Van Meter followed Nelson to St. Paul and signed on for anything he planned.

  bb Nelson had visited the Texas city twice already that summer to buy guns from a gunsmith named Heinie Leibman. Eddie Bentz had introduced them.

  bc Chuck Fisher gave the San Antonio police nothing. “All I got out of him you could put in your eye and not get hurt,” the city’s police commissioner told reporters. Fisher was sent to Leavenworth on an outstanding robbery warrant, where he told the FBI nothing, too. Not for four more months would anyone realize Nelson had been in San Antonio.

  bd Born in Falls Church, Virginia, in 1901, Tyler M. Birch joined the Bureau just two months before the Underhill shooting. He resigned from the FBI in 1938, fought in World War II and the Korean War, and died in December 1981 at the age of eighty.

  be Dillinger’s cross-country drive may not have been uneventful. According to FBI files, he received a traffic ticket in Albuquerque.

  bf Bremer’s note to Dickman read,

  Dear Lil: As my old standby I am calling on you to do something for me that it seems no-one else can do. I must get the enclosed letter to my father—unopened—& I know if I intrust it in your case it will be done. I suppose you know that my father has made a special appeal to everybody police & government officers included to lay off for three days so that he can make his own arrangements to get me back. Now the next thing is—is to get the instructions to him—& your old pal will not fail me I know . . .

  Please girl hurry—but don’t loose your head—I know you wont & I’m sure you’ll do just as I ask you to do. We always did understand each other.

  It’s a living hell here & the time I’ve been here seems like ages. Please do your part & I’m assured I’ll be home soon. Please hurry & be careful

  As always

  ED

  bg The role Piquett and O’Leary played in Dillinger’s story was not fully understood until the 1990 discovery of an unpublished manuscript written by a Chicago advertising man and would-be novelist named Russell Girardin. The manuscript’s unveiling was a story in itself. In late 1934, Girardin secured the cooperation of both Piquett and O’Leary for a book he hoped to write about Dillinger. They told him everything, supplying dates and affidavits to back up their assertions, but Girardin was never able to publish more than a series of truncated magazine articles. His manuscript lay forgotten on a shelf in his Chicago home for five decades until, at the age of eighty-nine, he was tracked down by two Dillinger enthusiasts, William Helmer and Joseph Pinkston. The Girardin manuscript sheds a swath of new light on Dillinger’s story; many of its key points can be confirmed in newly released FBI documents.

  bh Hoover’s New York friends may be an allusion to his friend Walter Winchell.

  bi Born and raised in Oregon, Harold E. Anderson served in the FBI from 1927 to 1943. He later served as an investigator for the National Board of Fire Underwriters and the State Gaming Control Board in Nevada. He died in Las Vegas at the age of seventy-five in 1975. flattery. “I think that’s a very nice jail you have here,” he said to Mrs. Holley. “What makes you think there’s anything wrong with it?”

  bj Few books on Bonnie and Clyde include the Rembrandt robbery, perhaps because its only mention comes in the handwritten notes Lee Simmons took of Joe Palmer’s debriefing. The notes are included verbatim in Simmons’s 1957 memoir, Assignment Huntsville. Contemporary news accounts report the bank’s robbery on January 25.

  bk Some authors, including E. J. Milner in The Lives and Times of Bonnie & Clyde (Southern Illinois University Press, 1996), have put this incident several weeks later. However, according to Simmons’s notes, Palmer clearly said it occurred “about the 1st of February,” putting it immediately after the Rembrandt robbery. Milner does not mention the Rembrandt robbery.

  bl O’Dare’s husband was Gene O’Dare, the man who had been arrested with Hamilton at a Michigan ice-skating rink in late 1932.

  bm Worley’s 1984 version differs from the story he told newspapers fifty years earlier. The day of the robbery, he told Dallas reporters he thought it was Hamilton who had returned his money, which he said was $3.00, not $27.00.

  bn The sole source for this discussion is the Karpis transcripts, and his chronology is clearly confused. Karpis puts the meeting in late March. In all likelihood it occurred in late February.

  bo Youngblood was killed in a police shoot-out in Michigan two weeks later.

  bp Seventy years later, the questions that swirled in the wake of Dillinger’s spectacular escape from Crown Point’s “escape-proof” jail still prompt debate among historians of American crime. Two loom largest: Did Dillinger really use a wooden gun, as he claimed? And what, if any, help did he receive from allies in and out of the jail?

  As for the gun, many still refuse to believe Dillinger was able to escape using only a wooden replica. Ernest Blunk and others would later insist Dillinger had used a real pistol. Some writers, including John Toland, agree; Toland posited that Dillinger had used a wooden gun and a real gun. But FBI files make clear Dillinger, at least initially, had only the wooden gun. Agents took statements from everyone involved that morning, and several, including Warden Baker, saw it up close. Some, including Sam Cahoon, insisted Dillinger had whittled the gun himself from shelving in his cell. In fact, as the Girardin manuscript makes clear, the wooden gun was smuggled in from outside. Art O’Leary did it. After reading of a Wisconsin man who had escaped a local jail using a toy gun, O’Leary asked a Chicago gunsmith to whittle him one.

  The second and far thornier question surrounds what, if any, help Dillinger received from allies in Crown Point. Ernest Blunk and Sam Cahoon were later indicted for helping Dillinger; both were acquitted after perfunctory trials. Afterward, an assistant state attorney general named Edward Barce was tasked with investigating the escape. Eight months later, in November 1934, Barce produced a secret report for Governor Paul McNutt, a copy of which survives in FBI files. On its face, the Barce report was a bombshell. In it, Barce alleged that Art O’Leary held two meetings with Warden Lew Baker, one at a barbecue stand on the outskirts of Crown Point, and handed Baker $1,800 to help Dillinger escape. Barce quoted employees of the barbecue stand and a Crown Point tavern, who claimed that Piquett boasted that Dillinger had promised him $50,000 if he could arrange his freedom. Barce even uncovered a series of letters O’Leary had supposedly written to a corrupt East Chicago politician to further the conspiracy.

  It was stirring stuff, but almost certainly untrue. The Barce report had a single glaring flaw. Its sole source of information was Meyer Bogue, the slender con man who had briefly functioned as Piquett’s gofer; not long after the Crown Point escape, Bogue went to work for Barce at $15 a day. FBI agents later interviewed every person mentioned in the Barce-Bogue conspiracy, as well as the supposed eyewitnesses. All denied every salient point Barce made. None of those named were ever indicted, much less prosecuted.

  If there was a conspiracy, it was a small one, perhaps a single man, the man who smuggled Dillinger the wooden gun. O’Leary or Piquett could have done it. They later told Russell Girardin that the gun had, in fact, been smuggled into the jail by Ernest Blunk, who they insisted had taken a bribe to do so. The truth is lost to history.

  bq In a 1941 series of articles for True Detective Adventures, Nelson’s friend Fatso Negri quoted Nelson’s version of the Kidder murder. “[W]e happened to cut in ahead of another car,” Nelson said. “The driver, one of those fresh guys, cut right back in front of us. He stopped the car, got out, and came back toward us and said to me: ‘What the hell do you mean? Get out of that car and I’ll slap your face for you.’ He had taken a step or two toward us when I leveled on him and hit him. Then we had to tear out of that place.” overcoat and drew his Thompson gun. “This is a holdup!” he shouted. “Everyone on the floor!”

  br In later years, Hoover became notorious for inserting into FBI files memoranda that tended to absolve himself of blame in controversial matters. The morning after speaking to Purvis, he wrote a memo to Pop Nathan that appears to be an early example of this:Last evening I had occasion to call Mr. Purvis at Chicago to inquire of him what steps had been taken in the Chicago office toward bringing about the apprehension of Dillinger, and much to my surprise the Chicago office has done practically nothing in this matter . . . I am also somewhat concerned that the supervising officials at the Seat of Government did not take immediate steps to instruct our field offices as soon as Dillinger escaped, to put forth every effort to bring about his apprehension, notwithstanding the fact that Dillinger at that time was not known to have violated a Federal Statute. The reason I am surprised . . . is because when Dillinger made his previous escape, this Division did take steps to endeavor to bring about his apprehension, so consequently, there was no reason why we should not take similar steps when he made his recent escape.

  This was remarkably disingenuous. The FBI had done next to nothing to pursue Dillinger that fall. No SAC would dare initiate a major new case without Hoover’s approval, and Hoover hadn’t given any. If the FBI was tardy in its pursuit of Dillinger that week, Hoover had only himself to blame.

  bs To this day, local historians have no idea who Kunkleman was or why he was filming that day. His footage of the robbery’s prelude and aftermath was later developed and shown in a Mason City theater. It then disappeared. For decades local historians tried in vain to locate Kunkleman or his fabled film. It was finally found in the hands of a Mason City camera-store owner in 1996.

  bt The precise date of Barker’s and Karpis’s surgeries has never been definitely established. The best guess is March 10, give or take a day.

  bu The bar was called the Green Lantern, named after but unrelated to Harry Sawyer’s place in St. Paul.

  bv Ziegler’s murder was never solved.

  bw The most vigorous questioning the FBI did wasn’t of anyone associated with the Barkers: it was of FBI agents themselves. When news of Dock Barker’s identification leaked to the St. Paul newspapers, Hoover exploded. He demanded to know the source of the leak, firing off a cascade of angry memos at the two most likely sources, the offices in Minneapolis and Oklahoma City. Pop Nathan interrogated several Oklahoma agents who appeared to have mentioned the fingerprints to local lawmen, who had then mentioned them to a Minnesota reporter doing research on the Barkers. The likely leaker was an agent named Herman Hollis, a former SAC in Detroit; Hollis denied it. The investigation dragged on for weeks, until Nathan admitted they would probably never find the source.

  bx Rosser Nalls was born in Washington, D.C., joined the Bureau in 1929, and served in many offices before his retirement in 1956. He died in 1983 at the age of eighty-two.

  Rufus C. Coulter was born in Tennessee and orphaned at an early age. Without graduating from elementary school, he attended night classes and managed to obtain a law degree from the University of Arkansas. Coulter served in the FBI from 1929 to 1945 and worked for many years afterward for Motorola. He died in 1975 at the age of seventy-two.

  by There remained widespread confusion among Hoover’s men exactly when and how they were to include local police on FBI raids. According to a memo Hoover wrote to file, when he asked Inspector William Rorer that Sunday why he had requested help from St. Paul police, Rorer said “he had been proceeding on the assumption that to take a suspect into custody it was necessary to have a police officer along.” Hoover replied “that this assumption is entirely wrong,” that there were only two instances where local police could join an FBI raid: when the FBI needed extra men or extra equipment. Rorer apparently also complained that not all his men knew how to use submachine guns. “If the agents cannot handle the equipment,” Hoover said, “they should be instructed immediately in the use of it.”

  bz George Gross was a St. Louis native who served in the FBI between 1930 and 1935. In later years he was an attorney. He died in 1958.

  ca Roy T. Noonan, a Minnesota native nicknamed “Stub,” was a popular FBI agent from 1928 until his retirement in 1954. From 1955 to 1967 he served as superintendent of the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. He died in 1981.

  cb An FBI memo explicitly states Larry Strong was not its informant that day. Either the memo was drafted in an effort to obscure Strong’s identity or Strong talked to someone else, perhaps his brother, who then notified the FBI.

  cc As portrayed in FBI files, the death of Eddie Green amounted to an execution. The official rationale behind the shooting, as explained to reporters, was that Green was shot after making “a menacing gesture.” In their reports, every agent present used that same phrase, “menacing gesture.” Some added that Green wheeled around as if to shoot, or stuck his hand in a pocket as if to pull a gun. There was no gun. Hugh Clegg’s report even quoted the reluctant Agent Notesteen as seeing the “menacing gesture.” But Notesteen’s own report pointedly says he could not see Green. Notesteen clearly states he ordered the shooting on the strength of Mrs. Goodman’s identification alone. The key words had been uttered by Inspector Rorer hours before: “Kill him.”

  Inspector Rorer’s order was probably the all-too-human product of overwhelming public pressure and the Bureau’s vengeful mindset, spiced by sleep deprivation, nerves, and inexperience. Even so, senior FBI officials were keenly aware of their vulnerability on the Green killing. When a reporter named Tommy Thompson persuaded the local coroner’s office to investigate, the Bureau moved swiftly to defend itself. If anyone asked, Clegg told Hoover, he would refuse to name the agent who shot Green, or any witnesses; they would be subpoenaed, Clegg said, which would be “undesirable.” Thompson, meanwhile, had taken loans from underworld figures, Clegg said: “If necessary, [we] could bring pressure to bear to prevent any adverse publicity on his part.” In the end, the FBI needn’t have worried; the coroner ruled the killing justified.

  cd Following the shoot-out in St. Paul, the trio had hidden out at Harry Sawyer’s farm, then driven to Tennessee, where they took rooms in a tourist court outside Nashville. One morning Van Meter and Hamilton returned from a shopping excursion in a terrific hurry. As Cherrington later related the story to the FBI, Van Meter said he and Hamilton had been parked outside a Nashville drugstore, drinking Coca-Colas, when they spied two teenage loiterers they suspected were about to rob the store. Lingering to watch, Van Meter said, they were suddenly approached by a uniformed patrolman who asked their names. According to Van Meter’s story, he produced a submachine gun, barking, “Here’s your credentials.” The officer stumbled and fled.

  The FBI would later find articles of clothing belonging to Van Meter and Hamilton that contained tags from a Nashville men’s store, apparently confirming Cherrington’s story.

  ce It’s possible Dillinger returned to Chicago via Louisville, Kentucky. That Saturday, the day after the Warsaw raid, a Louisville doctor claimed he had been approached by a man asking for help with a wounded leg; he identified photographs of Dillinger as the man. Earl Connelley, who was already investigating a tip Dillinger was in the area, established a surveillance of the doctor’s office, but when the tip surfaced in the Louisville newspapers, he abandoned it. The story of Dillinger’s visit to Louisville was later lent some credence by Pat Cherrington, who told the FBI she and Hamilton met Dillinger at an unidentified Kentucky “resort” that Saturday, April 14. If Dillinger did visit Louisville, he was back in Chicago by that afternoon, when he met with Art O’Leary.

  cf When questioned later by FBI agents, the attendant said he thought he recognized Dillinger but refrained from calling the local sheriff because he felt it couldn’t be true.

  cg They weren’t. Even though the FBI now knew the identities of Hamilton and Van Meter, Purvis had made no effort to place their families under surveillance.

  ch Other agents confirmed this. “We had no particular orders as to where we would be,” Agent William Ryan said in his debriefing. Agent Arthur McLawhon: “The only orders that I received from the time we left Rhinelander to the time of arrival was to drive the automobile.” Agent Ken McIntire: “The situation arose so quickly that it was almost impossible for orders to be given, every man doing as he thought best.” Agent Sam Hardy: “Mr. Purvis and Mr. Clegg seemed to be directing the party, but this Agent did not know just what actual plan was to be used on arrival at the Little Bohemia Resort.”

  ci Thomas J. Dodd was a Connecticut lawyer who served as an FBI agent from 1933 to 1935 before embarking on a career in politics. After World War II he was the chief U.S. prosecutor at the Nuremberg trials of German military leaders. In 1958 he was elected to the first of two terms in the U.S. Senate; his son is the current Connecticut senator Christopher Dodd. Thomas Dodd died in 1971.