As I think I've metioned before, my grandmother Nannie would never let anyone sleep with a necklace on because she had an Aunt Harriet who died in a hotel, strangled by her pearl necklace. After I got to a certain age I started to feel suspicious about this. A while ago my mom sent me a pdf of the NYT article about the case, "Woman Found Dead in Film Man's Room"; I just found it in a desktop cleanup and thought you all might be interested. Not sure when the date was, exactly, maybe the NYT archive can tell me even without my having access, or maybe a reader with a subscription can help? [Wait, I see: January 16, 1930.] But do they even have every year digitized? Anyway, here it is:
The body of Mrs. Harriet Adler, estranged wife of a bond broker and friend of Gilbert Seldes, author and critic, was found yesterday morning in the penthouse apartment of Dudley Murphy, a motion picture director, on the roof of the twenty-one story office building at 18 East Forty-first Street.
More than two hours elapsed between the discovery of the woman's body by a Negro maid at 9:40 A.M. and the time when police of the East Thirty-fifth Street station were notified. In the meantime a private physician had pronounced Mrs. Adler dead and the body had been moved, according to Detectives Patrick Mullarney [!--ed] and Joseph Hogan.
At first the detectives thought that Mrs. Adler, who lived at 155 East Seventy-second Street with her 3-year-old son and Mrs. Olive Dempsey, her housekeeper, had been strangled with the string of matched pearls she wore about her throat. After questioning Murphy and John M. Barbour, a designer of 601 Lexington Avenue, who were asleep in the apartment when the woman's body was found, they ascribed the woman's death to natural causes and reported there was "nothing suspicious" about the case. Neither Murphy nor Barbour were detained. [It was a cheery Christmas at the Mullarney and Hogan homes that year, one imagines.]
Certain circumstances about the case, however, caused Dr. Harry Weinberg, assistant Medical Examiner, after consulting with his chief, Dr. Charles G. Norris, to order the removal of the body to the morgue for an autopsy today. In some manner the string of pearls had been pressed against Mrs. Adler's throat until they left tiny indentations in the flesh. These ligature marks and a slight discoloration to the face hinted strongly enough at possible strangulation, Dr. Weinberg said, to make it wise to "avoid guesswork."
Dr. Weinberg said that he detected an odor of alcohol. It was his opinion, from his preliminary examination, that she had been drinking heavily and that death was caused by heart disease. Under the circumstances, however, he felt that a more thorough investigation was necessary.
Mrs. Adler was the former Harriet Mowry. Her family was listed in the social register. Her husband, Hamilton Adler, is head of the brokerage firm of that name at 120 Broadway. Mr. Adler, who lives at 1,112 Park Avenue left Dec. 23 for a vacation in Honolulu. He had been separated from his wife for some time, and their one son, Hamilton Jr., was living with his mother.
Murphy, a former camera man who recently directed a talking "short" for Paramount-Famous-Lasky Corporation at their studio in Astoria, L.I., told detectives that Mrs. Adler came to his apartment early yesterday morning without an invitation. When he and Barbour retired, he said, they left her sitting in the living room of the six-room apartment, awaiting a telephone call.
He met her first about three weeks ago at the Algonquin Hotel, where he lunches frequently with members of the literary group composing the "round table." He had forgotten who introduced him, he said, adding that the introduction made so little impression on him that Mrs. Adler had to remind him of at when next he saw her about ten days ago at a party given by Mr. Seldes at his apartment at 1,290 Madison Avenue....
[I'll synopsize here: according to the two guys, they become better aquainted at the party, she just shows up at his place drunk a few days later, when Barbour was there but Murphy was still out getting a snack with some other friends. Eventually Barbour lets her come up around 1:30 A.M. When Murphy gets back they both offer to see her home but she refuses, so they just go to bed leaving her still up. Allegedly. Then, in the morning, the wonderfully named Neutrice St. Louis, "Murphy's Negro maid", sees the woman sprawled out on the sofa but assumes she's sleeping. Someone comes to the door and asks for Murphy and then goes away without leaving his name, so Murphy gets up, at which point he realizes she's cold, and calls a doctor who lives in the building. The doc says she's dead and advises them to call the police...]
It was nearly noon when the police were notified. Dr. Greenblatt, of the Hospital for Ruptured and Crippled, who answered the ambulance call, said the woman had been dead several hours. Detective Mullarney said he found Mrs. Adler in an upright position on the couch. Murphy told him that he had helped place her so. When he first noticed her upon emerging from his bedroom, Murphy said, Mrs. Adler was lying on her stomach across a corner of the couch with the tips of her toes on the floor and her head hanging over the other side.
Mrs. Adler was wearing a black satin dress, black mesh stockings, and gray kid shoes. Her coat was thrown over the back of a chair and her hat rested upon a refectory table. Upon one wrist Mrs. Adler wore a jade link bracelet, and upon the other a platinum wrist watch set with diamond chips. She wore a diamond ring upon one of the fingers of her left hand.
Everything in the apartment was in perfect order. No liquor was found in any of the rooms. The only indication of any sinister circumstances was the imprint of the pearls upon her neck. The indentation was not deep, and Detective Mullarney said he believed the woman, in fainting, had caught her arm in the necklace and drawn it tightly about her throat.
Mr. Seldes, author of "The Seven Lively Arts," and a contributor to serveral magazines, was shocked at the news of Mrs. Adler's death. He and Mrs. Seldes had known her for some time, he said. He recalled that Murphy had been at his party and had paid considerable attention to Mrs. Adler, but said he would prefer not to disclose the names of oter guests.
Murphy first acheived distinction in Hollywood with his camera work in "The Ballet Mécanique." Since then he has directed several pictures, among them "Frankie and Johnny," in which Gilda Gray was featured. At the Paramount offices it was said he had directed one "short" for them but was connected no longer with the organization.
More than two hours elapsed between the discovery of the woman's body by a Negro maid at 9:40 A.M. and the time when police of the East Thirty-fifth Street station were notified. In the meantime a private physician had pronounced Mrs. Adler dead and the body had been moved, according to Detectives Patrick Mullarney [!--ed] and Joseph Hogan.
At first the detectives thought that Mrs. Adler, who lived at 155 East Seventy-second Street with her 3-year-old son and Mrs. Olive Dempsey, her housekeeper, had been strangled with the string of matched pearls she wore about her throat. After questioning Murphy and John M. Barbour, a designer of 601 Lexington Avenue, who were asleep in the apartment when the woman's body was found, they ascribed the woman's death to natural causes and reported there was "nothing suspicious" about the case. Neither Murphy nor Barbour were detained. [It was a cheery Christmas at the Mullarney and Hogan homes that year, one imagines.]
Certain circumstances about the case, however, caused Dr. Harry Weinberg, assistant Medical Examiner, after consulting with his chief, Dr. Charles G. Norris, to order the removal of the body to the morgue for an autopsy today. In some manner the string of pearls had been pressed against Mrs. Adler's throat until they left tiny indentations in the flesh. These ligature marks and a slight discoloration to the face hinted strongly enough at possible strangulation, Dr. Weinberg said, to make it wise to "avoid guesswork."
Dr. Weinberg said that he detected an odor of alcohol. It was his opinion, from his preliminary examination, that she had been drinking heavily and that death was caused by heart disease. Under the circumstances, however, he felt that a more thorough investigation was necessary.
Mrs. Adler was the former Harriet Mowry. Her family was listed in the social register. Her husband, Hamilton Adler, is head of the brokerage firm of that name at 120 Broadway. Mr. Adler, who lives at 1,112 Park Avenue left Dec. 23 for a vacation in Honolulu. He had been separated from his wife for some time, and their one son, Hamilton Jr., was living with his mother.
Murphy, a former camera man who recently directed a talking "short" for Paramount-Famous-Lasky Corporation at their studio in Astoria, L.I., told detectives that Mrs. Adler came to his apartment early yesterday morning without an invitation. When he and Barbour retired, he said, they left her sitting in the living room of the six-room apartment, awaiting a telephone call.
He met her first about three weeks ago at the Algonquin Hotel, where he lunches frequently with members of the literary group composing the "round table." He had forgotten who introduced him, he said, adding that the introduction made so little impression on him that Mrs. Adler had to remind him of at when next he saw her about ten days ago at a party given by Mr. Seldes at his apartment at 1,290 Madison Avenue....
[I'll synopsize here: according to the two guys, they become better aquainted at the party, she just shows up at his place drunk a few days later, when Barbour was there but Murphy was still out getting a snack with some other friends. Eventually Barbour lets her come up around 1:30 A.M. When Murphy gets back they both offer to see her home but she refuses, so they just go to bed leaving her still up. Allegedly. Then, in the morning, the wonderfully named Neutrice St. Louis, "Murphy's Negro maid", sees the woman sprawled out on the sofa but assumes she's sleeping. Someone comes to the door and asks for Murphy and then goes away without leaving his name, so Murphy gets up, at which point he realizes she's cold, and calls a doctor who lives in the building. The doc says she's dead and advises them to call the police...]
It was nearly noon when the police were notified. Dr. Greenblatt, of the Hospital for Ruptured and Crippled, who answered the ambulance call, said the woman had been dead several hours. Detective Mullarney said he found Mrs. Adler in an upright position on the couch. Murphy told him that he had helped place her so. When he first noticed her upon emerging from his bedroom, Murphy said, Mrs. Adler was lying on her stomach across a corner of the couch with the tips of her toes on the floor and her head hanging over the other side.
Mrs. Adler was wearing a black satin dress, black mesh stockings, and gray kid shoes. Her coat was thrown over the back of a chair and her hat rested upon a refectory table. Upon one wrist Mrs. Adler wore a jade link bracelet, and upon the other a platinum wrist watch set with diamond chips. She wore a diamond ring upon one of the fingers of her left hand.
Everything in the apartment was in perfect order. No liquor was found in any of the rooms. The only indication of any sinister circumstances was the imprint of the pearls upon her neck. The indentation was not deep, and Detective Mullarney said he believed the woman, in fainting, had caught her arm in the necklace and drawn it tightly about her throat.
Mr. Seldes, author of "The Seven Lively Arts," and a contributor to serveral magazines, was shocked at the news of Mrs. Adler's death. He and Mrs. Seldes had known her for some time, he said. He recalled that Murphy had been at his party and had paid considerable attention to Mrs. Adler, but said he would prefer not to disclose the names of oter guests.
Murphy first acheived distinction in Hollywood with his camera work in "The Ballet Mécanique." Since then he has directed several pictures, among them "Frankie and Johnny," in which Gilda Gray was featured. At the Paramount offices it was said he had directed one "short" for them but was connected no longer with the organization.
So, what do you think, guys? I'm thinking someone got away with murder, although I wouldn't put it past any woman in my family to drink herself to death at an inconvenient moment...
jholbo-at-mac-dot-com
bbwaring-at-yahoo-dot-com
If you search nytimes.com for Gilbert Seldes Harriet Adler, it will be the first article to come up. You have to pay to see it however. (I have home delivery of the Times so should be able to get it free, if I can figure out how to set that up -- i.e. find my account number -- I will email you the file. It is most likely a photograph of the microfilm.)
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | December 28, 2008 at 08:54 PM
Oh never mind, I misread -- you have the pdf already.
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | December 28, 2008 at 08:58 PM
it's just like a 30s detective novel, no?
Posted by: belle waring | December 28, 2008 at 09:19 PM
Yeah -- or like a film noir -- when I'm reading it I can see the shots laid out like a storyboard. The paragraph that begins "Mrs. Adler was wearing a black satin dress, black mesh stockings, and gray kid shoes." could totally be in a screenplay with a few minor adjustments to verb tense and voice.
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | December 28, 2008 at 10:00 PM
This is terrific. Did Murphy and Barbour retire to one bedroom or two?
What has become of the Hospital for the Ruptured and Crippled? Was it two hospitals that merged or what?
Was the "odor of alcohol" particular to Mrs. Adler, or just omnipresent in New York artistic circles?
So many questions.
Posted by: Delicious Pundit | December 28, 2008 at 10:49 PM
No wonder newspaper readership has declined -- back then it reads like reading a true crime novel. Today? I'm thinking high school textbook.
Posted by: cvcobb01 | December 28, 2008 at 11:57 PM
Truly, Mullarney and Hogan sound like the Holmes and Watson of the early 30s. I rather like the part where Seldes completely contradicts Murphy's account of his acquaintance with the victim.
Posted by: southpaw | December 29, 2008 at 12:12 AM
OK, I'll say it: the butler did it.
Posted by: abb1 | December 29, 2008 at 03:15 AM
Was it an Chinese butler?
The hospital still exists (the name has changed).
What a story. Sounds like murder. Certainly has a bunch of interesting characters.
Posted by: md 20/400 | December 29, 2008 at 03:25 AM
Doesn't sound premeditated enough to be murder, unless the people there were really unconcerned about alibis. Manslaughter, maybe.
James Branch Cabell used to write about this kind of thing in the 20s and 30s in the South -- how the people from better families in town could commit crimes of passion, and everyone knew about them, but it was kept out of the papers. He himself was widely rumored to have killed one of his mother's lovers who was causing some kind of trouble for her. He alternately grumbled about how everyone thought he was depraved and played up to his reputation to help sell his books.
Posted by: Rich Puchalsky | December 29, 2008 at 10:09 AM
I'll take the "bizarro accident" bet. She was found several hours after death---maybe rigor had set in, and the indentations from the pearls were an artifact of blood pools.
Posted by: Jackmormon | December 29, 2008 at 11:16 AM
Hey I just noticed: people used to put commas into street address numbers of more than three digits! I wonder when this practice ended.
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | December 29, 2008 at 11:58 PM
It's not just the writing that is fabulous, the names are great too! Mullarney is good, as is Neutrice, but so is the Hospital name, and your aunt's name, and the name of the studio Murphy shot the film for...
Posted by: Laleh | December 31, 2008 at 08:12 AM
It's almost hard to believe Murphy ran through four wives.
Posted by: southpaw | December 31, 2008 at 01:34 PM
What has become of the Hospital for the Ruptured and Crippled?
Either: a) it's being held in a salt cavern in North Carolina as part of the Federal stockpile of Awesome Blog Names (along with the Journal of Headache and Pain)
or
b) it's the new name for the SEC.
Posted by: ajay | January 05, 2009 at 07:56 PM
What has become of the Hospital for the Ruptured and Crippled? Was it two hospitals that merged or what?
Posted by: steroids online | March 05, 2012 at 06:46 PM