Deranged: The Shocking True Story of America's Most Fiendish Killer Page 29
On the other hand, with Fish committed to an institution, science would have a chance to study the man’s psychology and learn something that might help prevent future crimes against children. “Science is prediction,” Wertham asserted. “The science of psychiatry is advanced enough that with proper examination such a man as Fish can be detected and confined before the perpetration of these outrages, instead of inflicting extreme penalties afterwards.”
Throughout Wertham’s speech, Governor Lehman remained perfectly impassive, though his counsel, sitting directly to the governor’s left, seemed responsive to the psychiatrist’s arguments, smiling and nodding in approval and even, on several occasions, looking seriously moved. Wertham was encouraged to believe that his appeal was getting through.
He was wrong. The moment Wertham finished speaking, Governor Lehman rose from the table, nodded slightly, and left, unimpressed by the arguments and unwilling to reverse the court’s judgment.
On the morning of their final days, condemned men at Sing Sing were transferred from their cells to a wing of the death house that the inmates called “the dance hall.” It was there, on Thursday, January 16, 1936, that Albert Fish ate his last meals. For lunch, he had a T-bone steak from which the bone had been removed. The same precaution was taken with the roast chicken he requested for dinner. By the time his dinner arrived, however, he had largely lost his appetite and ate only a few mouthfuls. Sometime around 10:30 P.M., the Reverend Anthony Petersen, Protestant chaplain of the prison, arrived to pray with Fish, who had spent much of his time during the preceding weeks poring over his Bible. Shortly before 11:00, two guards entered the cell. One of them knelt before Fish with a knife and deftly slit the old man’s right trouser leg.
Then, flanked by the guards and followed by Reverend Petersen, the old man shambled down the corridor toward the execution chamber. The time was 11:06 P.M.
Throughout the day, Warden Lawes—one of America’s most distinguished criminologists and a staunch opponent of capital punishment—had waited close to his phone, hoping for a reprieve. But it never came. When a reporter asked Lawes how he felt about Fish’s imminent execution, he replied, “I am not supposed to feel. I am just part of the apparatus.”
At the sight of the electric chair, Fish did not quail, as even the hardest men often did, though he did not seem like someone who was looking forward to the “supreme thrill” of his life, either. Hands clasped in prayer, he lowered himself into the chair and allowed the straps to be adjusted around his arms, legs and torso.
His face looked very pale in the instant before Robert Elliott, the gaunt, gray-haired executioner, slipped the black death mask over it. The leather cap with its electrode was fitted to the old man’s close-shaven head. After fastening the chin-strap, Elliott stooped to secure the second electrode to Fish’s right leg beneath the trouser-slit. Then he stepped to the control panel.
Afterward, stories circulated that the needles in the old man’s body had produced a burst of blue sparks when the electricity was activated. But this was simply part of the folklore that grew up around Fish in the following years. There were no pyrotechnics. Fish died like other men.
When the current hit, his body surged, his neck cords bulged, his clenched fists turned a fiery red. Eventually, the body subsided.
At precisely 11:09 P.M., the attending physician stepped up to the body, cupped his stethoscope against the motionless chest, and declared that Albert Fish—the oldest man ever executed at Sing Sing—was dead.
For the Budds, the end was like the beginning—a stranger came knocking at the door.
This time, it was a reporter for the Daily News, who showed up at the Budds’ 24th Street apartment shortly after midnight. He rapped on the door, waited, then rapped again. It was a full ten minutes before Mrs. Budd trudged from her bedroom, opened the door, and peered outside.
Albert Fish was dead, the reporter informed her. He paused expectantly, pen and notepad at the ready.
But if he was hoping for a juicy quote or dramatic response, he was disappointed. Mrs. Budd heard the news in silence, without a flicker of emotion on her face.
A few moments later, her husband’s thin voice came drifting through the apartment, calling her back to sleep. Without a word to the reporter, Mrs. Budd pushed the door closed and returned to her bedroom, shuffling heavily through the familiar darkness.
Acknowledgments
A few years ago, I wrote a book called Deviant about the Wisconsin ghoul Edward Gein, who served as the model for Psycho’s Norman Bates. While researching the book, I wrote to Robert Bloch, author of the novel upon which Hitchcock’s classic terror film was based, to ask, among other things, why he thought so many people continued to be fascinated by Gein. Bloch replied, “Because they are ignorant of the activities of … Albert Fish.”
Intrigued by the answer, I began digging into Fish’s incredible case, and the result is the present book. My acknowledgments, then, must begin with a word of thanks to Robert Bloch for his initial (if unwitting) inspiration.
I owe a very large debt of thanks to James Dempsey, Albert Fish’s defense lawyer. Still active at eighty-nine, this remarkable gentleman shared his memories of Fish with me and gave me access to documents which proved invaluable in my reconstruction of the case. Without his help, this project would have been infinitely more difficult to complete.
Many other people helped along the way. For various forms of assistance I am grateful to: Greg Albanese, Jim Donna, Fred Ellwick, Dr. John Frosch, Una Vavasour Grazelski, Sergeant Donald J. Haberski, Andrew Hill, Jay Klinik, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Marks, Eneta McAlister, Joe McCormack, Catherine Ostlind, John Padraki, Jerry Perles, Faigi Rosenthal, Len Rubin, John Sheridan, Charles Sullivan, Mark Tulis, and Mike Wilk.
I would also like to thank all the people who were kind enough to answer my call for information concerning Fredric Wertham: Christopher Beall, Monte Beauchamp, Thomas Cole, Emily Essex, Dana Gabbard, Edith Goodman, Ian Gordon, William Kaplan, Sylvia Pollack, Richard Roffman, Natalie Shainess, Ralph Slovenko, Herman Steinberg, Arthur Stern, Jane Strompf, Miriam Wallace, and Bill Zavatsky.
Linda Marrow has been a wonderful editor and an even better friend. For those reasons, this book is dedicated to her.
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About the Author
HAROLD SCHECHTER is professor of American literature and culture. Renowned for his true-crime writing, he is the author of the nonfiction books Fatal, Fiend, Bestial, Deviant, Deranged, Depraved, and, with David Everitt, The A to Z Encyclopedia of Serial Killers. He is also the author os several acclaimed historical novels featuring Edgar Allan Poe: Nevermore, The Hum Bug, and, most recently, The Mask of Red Death. He lives in New York State.
Grace Budd. (Bettmann Archives)
Thousands of these circulars were distributed throughout the United States and Canada in the weeks following Grace Budd’s abduction. (New York Dialy News)
Delia Budd poses for news photographers with a portrait of her missing daughter. (New York Daily News)
Charles Edward Pope (left) under arrest. (Bettmann Archives)
The Daily Mirror “fleet photograph” that led, indirectly, to the capture of Albert Fish. The arrow points to sixteen-year-old Florence Swinney, mistakenly identified as the grown-up Grace Budd. (Bettmann Archives)
Albert Fish being booked, early Friday morning, December 14, 1934. Detective King is on the left. (Bettmann Archives)
Albert Fish and his nemesis, Detective William King. (New York Daily News)
Night view of Wisteria Cottage.
Grace Budd’s skull lies in the dirt behind the stone boun
dary wall above Wisteria Cottage.
Searchers comb the hillside behind Wisteria Cottage for Fish’s “implements of hell.” (New York Daily News)
Mug shot of Albert Fish taken in 1903 after his arrest for grand larceny. Fish was thirty-three at the time. (New York News)
Medical Examiner Amos Squire (in hat and coat) examines one of the human bones found at Wisteria Cottage. (New York Daily News )
Albert and Delia Budd await the start of Fish’s trial. (AP/Wide World Photos)
One of the X-rays of Albert Fish’s pelvic region which revealed a total of twenty-nine needles shoved up inside his body. (New York Daily News)
Albert Fish at his trial. (AP/Wide World Photos)