AMBUSH OF CONSTABLE SMITH

                            AMBUSH OF CONSTABLE  SMITH

                                       NORMAN  V.  KELLY

Three men leaned against a building in Downtown Peoria, Illinois the cool evening of June 12, 1922.  Thunder rumbled overhead and there was bright lightening off to the east. Across the street from the sinister men was the old Orpheum Theater where the Buick they were eyeing was parked.

“How about that one…that Buick?”

John Schoor looked at his leader Rolla Spaulding for an answer to his question.  They watched the family get out of the car and walk away.  “Perfect!  Let’s take it.”

The three men all police characters and suspects every time a car came up missing hurried across the street. Two of them acted as lookouts as the third one quickly entered the car, hot wired the ignition and off they went, laughing all the way. Once on the campus of Bradley Polytechnic Harry Folks hopped out of the Buick and took off in a stolen Dodge heading for Easton Road and Sterling, right there by what is now known as Newman Golf Course. Followed by the Buick, the men were soon busy in the darkness stripping down both cars. Only a thin light from a flashlight could be seen in the darkness.

                                       BACK ON  DUTY

Constable Arthur T. Smith and his partner Constable Joe Turner had just finished their supper and were back in the patrol car ready for action. They had authority in the City of Peoria and out in the county, a vast area mostly north of the city. These two men were special officers in that they held elected positions.  Each year five of them were elected and these two were on their second terms.  They were not members of the park district, the city force or the county sheriff’s department…and that of course made them unique.

Meanwhile the Buick owner, N.C. Race, sat in the movie theater enjoying his family and the double feature. Actually his Buick had been stolen once before…which he felt was a once in a lifetime experience.  Or so he thought.

Arthur and Joe were old friends and although they competed for the job every year, they supported each other win or lose. “Looks pretty bad out, Joe, bet we have a quiet night.”

“I hope so, Art, I could use one.  Ain’t been sleeping too well, the damn sun light I reckon.”

The territory as I mentioned was vast and both men spent most of the evening just driving around.  Easton Road skirted what we now call Bradley Park and was really the park districts area.  Nobody argued the point, and all the constables got along with the other departments. The constables did not have any radios in their cars, and if they got in trouble they knew they were pretty much on their own. As they rounded the slight curve on Easton they spotted two dark forms pulled off the road.

“Joe we better check this out.”

Turner stayed in the car as Smith snapped on his small flashlight and continued on his way to see what they had seen. I hope it interest you to know that by 1922 there were 10 million flashlights in use.

“Hey…Constable Smith here…what are these cars parked here for?”

Silence.   “Hey…hold it…”

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

In the darkness the gunfire flashes came from the rear seat of the Buick which was parked off the road near the Dodge.  The first slug whizzed past Smith, but the second one struck him in the left shoulder. A third shot quickly followed striking the hapless constable in the stomach, the fourth hit him directly in the heart. He crumbled to his knees then fell face forward on to the gravel road.  By the time his partner reached him, Constable Arthur Smith was dead.

When Constable Turner heard the first shot his instinct was to duck down below the dash boar. After the final shot he eased his way out of the driver’s side of the car and ducked behind the front fender.  Out of the car now his gun drawn he tried to peer into the darkness.  “Art…Arthur are you okay?”  He heard scurrying footsteps and only then did he chance turning on his flashlight.  Furtively he crept forward trying to stay low as he inched along, calling out as he walked.  He began to whisper.  “Art…Art are you okay?”

As he stood silently the moon popped out, the rain was gone and he stayed in one spot moving his flashlight about.  “Art…where are you?”

The moon helped him spot his partner as he ran to his friend lying at the side of the road partially in the weeds along the side of the road.  “Arthur!”  Turner gently turned his friend over on his back.  “My God Arthur…are you hit?”

Constable Smith did not answer.

                             OTHERS HEAR THE SHOT

Two Park Police officers heard what they thought was a shot…maybe three or more. Officer Charles Esken and his partner jumped in to their old Ford and raced east where they thought the shots had come from. Esken noted that it was 9:18 PM. They raced up, coming to a quick stop as both doors flew open.

Turner waved his flashlight.  “It’s Art…he’s been shot.”

“You guys stay here,” Esken said, “I’ll go over to the park pavilion and call it in.”  Actually, Esken could not use the phone there and had to go all the way over to Main Street to get help.

Fifteen minutes later the dark county road was a busy spot with car lights and cops bathing the scene in spotlights and car lights. Later bloodhounds were brought to the scene and Peoria detectives sought to find out exactly what had happened way out there in the boondocks.

Detective Wetly from the city gathered the information on the cars, starting with the licenses plates and did a thorough search of the car’s interiors.  Actually there were three cars there, two stolen and one registered in the name of Rolla E.  Spaulding. Now there was a man the police knew very well, and from the scene that single clue was just about all the detectives needed. Actually the police were looking for him as a suspect in some burglaries and now they had him for car theft as well.  All they had to do was apprehend him.  Inside the Buick were four spent shells, and in the Dodge was a box of shells that matched those that had been fired.  So the constables had come upon the thieves stripping those two cars and now Constable Smith lay dead.  It was going to be a busy time for them finding Spaulding, but they knew a lot about their man…and they meant to capitalize on all of it.

A call went out to round up the usual suspects, a trick the cops pulled off regularly in Peoria, Illinois.  The truth was that almost all the bad guys had been identified in Peoria, and one by one they were picked up and questioned.  The cops found that by threatening them usually one or more of them were more than happy to tell them all they needed to know.  As luck would have it Mr. Spaulding was not caught up in the police net but his pal Henry Folks was among the goons they captured.

Police found him to be a talkative cuss, and they needed all the help they could get.

Coroner Elliot had arrived at the scene and took charge of the constable’s body. He had the body removed to the Boland Mortuary where an autopsy would be performed.

All during the night the police search continued involving all the local departments as well as the sheriff’s department. When the sun came up and the search party retired, suspected killer Rolla Spaulding was nowhere to be found.

                        THE  INVESTIGATION  CONTINUES

It was the snitch Henry Folks that first brought up the name of John Schoor, a name the police were also well aware of.  They listened with a bit of nonchalance so that Henry did not clam up.  Plied with some coffee and donuts, the officer even handed Henry a big cigar.  He talked to his ‘buddies’ for over three hours and seemed to enjoy himself.  Folks told the police that Schoor was a big buddy of Rolla Spaulding.  “Find him and you got Spaulding,” Henry said and late that afternoon, Henry Folks was a free man.

Every man that wore a badge was looking for Schoor but he was nowhere to be found.  A few cops were standing at the sergeant’s desk when a man in a rumple suit walked in.  He was smiling and carrying a brown paper bag. 

“I understand your guys are looking for me?”

“You are?”

“John Schoor.”

That got everyone’s attention rather quickly. “We certainly are Mr. Schoor. Thank you for coming in.”

Four hours later Mr. Schoor had pretty well convinced the detectives that he did not know Rolla Spaulding at all.  Skeptics, of course, but they tried as hard as they could to get him to talk about Spaulding but nothing worked. The cops tossed Schoor back in his cell to cool his heels a bit while they kept looking for Rolla Spaulding.

One thing the culprit could not explain to the cop’s satisfaction was his wet clothing and muddy boots. That evening Schoor admitted that he was out in the storm and that he was with Spaulding earlier in the day but that he was not with him out on Easton Road. Of course the police did not believe him but they were making headway…and of course…Schoor was back in his cell.

So the fish were let out of the police net one after the other.  Some had given a bit of information here and there, and the others promised to notify the police if they saw Spaulding.  The police rarely believed a word they were told but they had time on their hands…so they let them all lose.

The detectives added up what they had.  They knew where Henry Folks lived, they had Schoor in jail and they had two guns, the two cars and some empty and loaded shells. 

                                        THE  INQUEST

Coroner Elliott gathered everyone he could find connected with the killing and called his hearing to order.  The small hearing room was filled to capacity with cops, reporters and witnesses. The local newspapers had not been kind to Constable Turner hinting that he should have done more to protect his partner.  The jury even questioned the officer.

“Why didn’t you fire your weapon Constable?”

 “Because of our strict procedure that’s why. I was the driver. I was to stay in the car. Also, had I jumped out and turned on my flashlight I could have been an easy target.”

Officer after office followed Turner and then the medical examiner was called to indicate the cause of death. Dr. Maurer told in grim detail how the constable had met his death.

“He was hit by three slugs,” the old physician testified. “The one that hit his heart killed him instantly, maybe before he hit the ground.”  He looked over at the jury, “Yep, killed him stone dead.”

The coroner’s jury reached a verdict of murder and recommended that the police continue their investigation into the person or persons guilty of the constable’s murder.  They also suggested that the man be held for murder without bail.

That was easy for them to say since the police were pretty much at a stand still.  All they had, and they meant to cling to him was John Schoor. Actually they had nothing on him but until a lawyer stepped up and demanded his release they aimed to hold on to him. Meanwhile all the honors they could bestow on a comrade in arms were being planned for the funeral.  Once Smith was buried with honors he slipped into oblivion until a writer in Peoria, Illinois brought his memory back to the City of Peoria.  His name was then put on three police monuments In Peoria, Springfield and Washington DC.

                          TO HONOR CONSTABLE SMITH

The funeral was held in Smith’s home over at 2040 Knoxville in Peoria, Illinois.  The constable left behind his widow, Florence and his two children, Willie age 9 and Mary Kathleen age 4. Art’s brother and mother also survived his death.  A requiem Mass was held at Saint Bernard and the constable was buried at Saint Mary’s Cemetery. The deceased officer was born in Livingston County in 1887 and was all of 34 when he was killed.

Police turned up the heat by soliciting police departments all over the area in the search for Rolla Spaulding but when all was said and done they did not have their man.  A headline in the local newspapers on June 17, 1922 sounded promising:  ‘NEW CLUE TO SMITH MURDER.’

Sounds good but it turned out to be shocking more than anything else.  It seems Mr. John Tegg had a story to tell so he went directly to the local news reporters.  He said he was driving out near the murder scene when he saw the two constables inside the police car with two bob-headed women in the back seat talking to the officers. Wow…this was pretty wild news back in 1922 I can tell you that.  Mr. Tegg further stated that “I know Constable Turner very well and I know that one of the men was Turner.”   He saw them get out of the car and walk over to a couple of parked cars.  “I did not stop because it was none of my business.”  Now what were the do-gooders in old Peoria to think of that statement?

Tegg’s statement caused quite an uproar to say the least and the reporters headed for the chief of police to confront him and Constable Turner. Constable Turner held up his hands and shook his head. “There is not a word of truth in it.  It is hard to see your friend shot down in cold blood and I swear every word I said at the coroner’s inquest was the truth by all that’s holy. As for the women none of my friends believe that story. It was very dark out there and any witness that said they could see anything…let alone women…is a liar.”

A day later rumors flew, there was a lot of gossip, but most Peorians believed Turner.  The newspapers reported that Rolla Spaulding was seen out at El Frisco Beach.  Nothing came of that and then the local newspapers sold a few more papers with a story that posed as a question.

                            PEORIA  MURDER  WITNESS  SLAIN?

Peorians assumed that John Schoor was still in jail but according to the paper maybe his body was found out in the boonies covered with weeds.

It was now July 10, 1922 and the paper tried to keep the exciting murder actively selling papers. Was this just another pitch on their part?

Schoor’s mother told police and the press that her son had been kidnapped one July night by a man named Ray ‘Red’ Keith. She was afraid to call police and she was now certain that the body they found was her son, John Schoor.  Police say that the body was found out at Atwater Woods near Havana.  So take the poor woman to see the body.  Police refused at the time and folks around here were really exasperated.  One officer said, “ it was too gruesome”  People just shook their heads and waited for the next shoe to fall.

                              ROLLA  SPAULDING  CALLING

Deputy Minor took the call.   “Hello…this is Rolla Spaulding, I’m back in town.”

Minor waved at some men to quiet them down.  He raised his voice. “You say you are Rolla Spaulding?” 

“Yes, I’m in town over here at the Jefferson Hotel. You can come over and get me.”

At the hotel a handsome man, dressed to the nines answered the door.

“Are you Deputy Minor?”

“Yes, are you Rolla Spaulding?”

“I am. Do you have a warrant for me?”

“No. We have one but I don’t have it.  Do you still want to come with me now?”

“I do.”

And so, Spaulding exchanged the fancy hotel room for a cell in the old county jail. Mr. Pratt, our state’s Attorney, went over to the jail and served the warrant on Spaulding personally.

Spaulding spoke briefly to the press until he was told to shut up by his lawyer.

“They may have found my car out there, but I assure you I had nothing to do with shooting Constable Smith.”

The next day folks were drawn to the case again by something that was printed in the local newspapers.

“I am going away. I shot Arthur Smith. I had Rolla’s Spaulding’s car. The accident happened at a place near Bradley Park.  I got even with the police who beat me up. These are my fingerprints.

Signed:   John Schoor.

So…the folks in Peorian thought…this is why Rolla Spaulding surrendered.  If that body out there in the weeds was not Schoor then who was it?  Aha…the plot thickens.

The answer to all the speculation was allowed to soak in over night.  The newspapers had another headline that would surely sell some more papers.  They were right.

                                  BODY  IS  JOHN  SCHOOR

Now of course they had no fancy DNA…no real forensics but the police had a skull and some clothing that John’s mother had identified.  Hell,  that’s all they needed in those days.  Later they admitted that the skull was pure white, and that there was a neat hole in the forehead.  Police maintained that the teeth were recognized by the mother and that experts also examined the skull.

An article summarized what they had so far. Police had a letter of confession from John Schoor.  A skull, teeth and clothing said to belong to John Schoor.  They also had some spent and loaded shells.  Rolla Spaulding had turned himself in but denied the murder.  So what was next?

Police said a farmer out near the cabin where John was found said that a man named Robert Jackson was really Rolla Spaulding..  Both Keith brothers were arrested and they were taking the case to the Grand Jury.

There was a lot of talk around town about Prohibition and the dry agents that tried to enforce the Volstead act.  So far, 124 of the 3,500 agents had been killed in the line of duty. I can tell you that here in Peoria the local police department was not part of the Volstead ‘cops,’ and getting a drink here was very easy.

                   SPAULDING TO FACE TRIAL TOMORROW

So the grand jury indicted Spaulding for murder and as the weeks went by a date and time for his trial was made and the local folks relaxed a bit.   Of course a change of venue was requested…but denied.  The defense wanted the case out of Peoria County.  An appeal was made and folks were irritated to learn that the trial would be held in Toulon, Illinois which was in Stark County.  The real shocker came when the judge ruled that it would be tried in 1923.  No way…as they would say today.   Way someone could reply.  1923 was the year but when?

                                       FEBRUARY 20, 1923

So the big day dawned in beautiful downtown Toulon and the crowds flocked in hoping to get a seat.  Many were disappointed as the process to pick a jury continued. In all 52 witnesses were subpoenaed and after the jury was picked, the case began.

It was very quiet in the courtroom as a deputy, carrying a box under his arm, walked over to the prosecutor’s desk and sat it down.  All eyes were on that box.  Now what on earth was in that box? It sat there for an hour or so before the prosecutor for the People walked over to it. He looked over at the jury, then the judge. Almost in a magic like move he had the stark white skull of John Schoor held out in his right hand!   There were audible gasps heard from many spectators as well as the jury.

Quickly he walked over to the jury, skull held high.  “This is John Schoor.  He was killed so he would remain silent during this trial.”

Objections flew from the defense and the judge was seen…but not heard…banging his gavel on the hard old oak wood bench. The judge demanded a fifteen minute break.  The attorney for the people looked satisfied as he plopped in his seat.  Being dramatic took some effort.

                                        THE  TRIAL  CONTINUES

All eyes were fixed on the skull of John Schoor which was admitted into evidence.   The judge added another warning for the spectators to remain quite and he nodded for the next witness.

The next day the prosecution rested and as hoped, the defendant Rolla Spaulding took the witness stand in his own defense.  He was told by the judge as well that he did not have to testify…but he did.

It was Friday February 23, 1923 when the tall. Handsome man dressed in a beautiful brown suit with matching tie took the stand.  He smiled and nodded to the jury as his attorney walked up next to him.  They both smiled at each other. Rolla was a nice, kind man, all this told the jury he was just a decent man that was wrongly accused.  Listen folks…he will tell you the honest truth. The two old ‘pals’ had a nice, enjoyable conversation about who Rolla really was, and the kind things he had done in his life.  Hell…even a few of the jurors smiled at the conversation.

“Did you shoot and kill Constable Smith?”

With a dramatic gesture and a shake of the head, Spaulding replied. “Sir, I did not shoot Constable Smith or any other man.”  The defense lawyer looked over at the jury…he smiled, then looked over at the judge. “Your honor the defense rests.”

Well, I can tell you the prosecution did not rest and the cross-examination was brutal and bombastic.  For over two hours the People’s lawyer went after the defendant, and adding to the assault, put on four rebuttal witnesses. Finally, an exhausted prosecutor rested the State’s case.  Next would be the closing arguments.  In early evening the jury had the case.  Was he found guilty or not guilty?

                        SPAULDING GUILTY, SAYS JURY

Life in prison was the sentence and Spaulding was taken back to the county Jail in Peoria, Illinois.  He did not leave immediately for the Illinois State Prison because he faced another trial over in Havana, Illinois.  But since this is about Constable Smith let’s stop here with

the satisfaction that he paid for the murder of one of our finest constables. As I mentioned his name is now on the memorials in Peoria, Springfield, and Washington DC.  I also included his story in my book OFFICER DOWN.

Editor’s note: Norm is a Peoria historian and author.  He welcomes your comments.

norman.kelly@sbcglobal.net .