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| Susie and Lewis Belew (San Francisco Examiner. November 14, 1897) |
The small town of Dixon, California, had a genuine murder mystery on its hands at the beginning of November 1897. Two of its most popular residents, Louis and Susan Belew, died suddenly after suffering terrible stomach pains. Their hired hand, Bruno Klein, just scraped by. For several days, it was touch and go. The doctors weren’t sure if he would make it or not.
It was supposed to be a time of celebration. In two weeks, Louis was to marry Cara Ferguson and Susan Charlie Ehmann.
They had dinner with their brother Frank the night before they died. Frank got sick and said he vomited, expelled his meal several times, then had a headache. Susie gave him some headache powder and sent him home shortly after 7 p.m.
Charlie Ehmann arrived at the house at about 9:30 p.m. He remembered locking the kitchen door when he came in.
Everyone was fine the next morning. Louis and Susie sat down for breakfast. Louis walked down to the livery stable so Bruno could go to the house and eat breakfast. By the time Bruno finished eating, Susie was vomiting all over, so he went down to the stable to send Louis back. Bruno found Louis was as sick as his sister when he got there.
Pretty soon, all three of them were vomiting and suffering terrible stomach cramps.
At first, doctors thought they suffered from acute indigestion caused by eating tainted food.
After he regained his strength, Bruno Klein said: “We had breakfast about 7 o’clock, and at 8 o’clock Lew and I were very sick. I had a terrible burning sensation and vomited a great deal. My head was buzzing, and I felt very badly.”
Mrs. George Ehmann and Miss Ferguson did their best to nurse Susie back to health. Unknown to them, the hourly tea recommended by Dr. Trafton fed Susie more poison and fueled her agony. If Frank were the murderer, he did a great job covering it up. He sat quietly, holding his sister’s hand while he watched her nurses shovel more poison down her throat.
Frank Belew (San Franciso Chronicle. June 18, 1898)
One of the first suspects was Harry Allen, a former lover of Susie’s. Immediately after the murders, Frank fingered Allen as the murderer. He said Allen killed Louis to get revenge for breaking up his relationship with Susie.
Allen threw it back at him, screaming, “Be a man and confess you killed both of them.”
Frank Belew came from a rich and respected family. His father, Thomas Belew, had five children, Arthur, Thomas, Susan, Louis, and Frank. When their parents died several years back, they left most of their assets to Louis, Susan, and Arthur. Thomas received the old homestead ranch before his parents died, so he was well taken care of. Frank got nothing. He had rubbed his parents the wrong way, and they cut him off entirely.
Two weeks before she died, Susie consulted an attorney about writing a will to cut off Frank and Arthur. Neither Susie nor Louis thought much of Frank. Frank had recently forged some notes using Louis’s signature. Louis let the matter go, but warned his brother he’d have his ass if it happened again.
Louis, 40, and Susie,30, died intestate, so their estates would be split among the three living brothers. Louis was worth $7,000 or $8,000, and Susie, $5,000. That put Frank in line for just over $4,000, whether or not the jury convicted him of murder.
After Frank’s name got bandied about, other stories came out.
His father-in-law, John Martin, called him a thief.
“Frank robbed me of $400 I left with him a long time ago,” he said, “pretending he had been robbed himself.” Shortly after the money disappeared, Frank came up with a big wad of cash to buy his wife presents. When asked where the money came from, he said he won it playing cards down in Mexico, but Martin knew better.
And then there was D. W. Wright’s prize hog. It wandered onto Frank Belew’s property, and that was the last that was seen of it. Mrs. Belew later told her father she came home one day and discovered the remains of a white pig—its head burned, and the skin buried. When asked, Frank said they needed the meat.
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| The Belew Home in Dixon, California (San Francisco Call. November 11, 1897) |
Harry Allen said he “did not care enough for the girl to kill her.” He had nothing against Susie, but he hated Louis Belew for coming between them and breaking his engagement with Susie.
“Louis Belew has interfered in my love affairs, broken my engagement,” said Allen, “and I shall get even with him.”
“I once loved Susie Belew,” continued Allen. “Thomas and Louis Belew opposed me bitterly. They carried stories to her about my gambling, drinking, and going with other girls.”
He promised Susie he would stop drinking and gambling, but—failed to keep that promise. Louis caught him gambling and told his sister.
“Her brothers told her I was mercenary and only wanted to get her for her money.” She said her money was hers, and any man who married her would not touch one dollar.
Testimony at coroner's jury. (San Francisco Examiner. November 24, 1897)
“I did not want her without her money,” said Allen. “We never met again, except as strangers.” He couldn’t care less if she married someone else. He worked as a farmhand and could barely support himself. How could he support Susie without having control of her money?
His revenge on Louis Belew involved his business dealings. He decided not to hire buggies from him again. Murder never crossed his mind. If people are looking for a killer, “I point the finger of suspicion at Frank Belew.”
Investigators cleared Harry Allen within a week. He told a “straight story” to detectives, and his alibis checked out. “I do not believe Harry Allen had anything to do with this murder,” said Detective Curtain. Suspicion then shifted to Frank Belew.
Professor Grinstead from Dixon High School discovered poison in the teapot. He said the killer “poured the arsenic into the nozzle of the kettle” to make it more deadly.”
It wasn’t uncommon for a large ranch to have arsenic in its tool sheds. They used it to control rodent infestations, so even if investigators discovered poison in Frank’s house, it wouldn’t mean much.
John W. Bird (San Francisco Call. February 4, 1898)
Investigators determined the poison was placed in the tea kettle between 6:30 p.m. and 9:30 p.m. on Sunday. Charles Ehmann visited Susie’s house at 9:30 p.m. and locked the door as he went in. No signs of forced entry were found, so it’s assumed the poison was placed in the teakettle before 9:30.
Harry Allen had an airtight alibi. He spent Sunday night in several of Dixon’s saloons and had witnesses to prove it. Frank Belew had no witnesses. He said he got sick at his sister’s house and went home, where he spent the night alone.
After questioning Frank Belew and Harry Allen, the coroner’s jury ruled, “Louis Belew and Susie Belew came to their deaths from arsenic poison administered by a person or persons to the jury unknown.”
Both men were off the hook.
The day before his brother and sister died, Frank visited his brother-in-law, John W. Bird, a Sacramento photographer. As usual, he complained about his parents’ will, saying they had not left him enough property.
“They have not treated me right in regard to the estate,” said Frank, “but I’ll have some of it yet. They’ll not live to enjoy it.”
“Bird,” he said, “I’m going to commit a terrible crime tomorrow. I’m going to commit a tragedy that will shock the whole community.”
“Do not think anything foolish, old man,” said Ellen Bird (John Bird’s wife). “Think of the consequences.”
That was the last time Frank spoke with Bird and his wife until the funeral of his brother and sister.
“Well, you did what you said you would,“ Bird said.
“Did what?”
“Murdered Louis and Susie.”
“Did I tell you that?” said Frank, trying to remember what he’d said. After giving it some thought, he said: “Yes, I do remember that I made a threat, but I didn’t tell you I had done it.”
“Well, but I know you did it.” Bird let it go. No sense pushing him. Frank would tell him in time.
Frank Belew making his confession. (San Francisco Examiner. February 6, 1898)
“Frank has always admitted the crime,” said Bird. He “often laughed at the way he eluded the officers. He said he did a good job and thought he was pretty smooth in getting away with the sleuths.”
Frank and Bird talked about the murders often. Over time, Bird’s conscience got the best of him, or maybe it was fear. He became convinced Frank planned to kill him.
Frank had been after him to go hunting in the tules for a long time. He “has planned in every way to get me to go with him to some lonely spot,” said Bird. “When I refused, he seemed more determined than ever, and I read unmistakably that he wanted to murder me because he wanted me out of his way.”
When Bird refused to go hunting with him, Frank suggested they go prospecting in the Klondike.
Bird knew Frank played by his own rules.
Several years before, he tried to shoot a farmhand named Charles Hough because he owed him some money. When that attempt failed, he poisoned a biscuit he gave the man. Hough reported the incident to Constable Frank Newby at Dixon, but it went nowhere. Frank convinced everyone Hough was crazy and had tried to commit suicide.
“I never worked for a man more agreeable to my face,” said Hough. “When we got through, he owed me $47, but as I had some money, I told him not to inconvenience himself as I was not broke.” Later, Frank invited him to supper at his ranch.
That night, Frank made dinner.
Hough ate a biscuit. “After the meal, I had to go and lie down for some time. It seemed that every bone and muscle in me was paralyzed. The idea that Belew tried to poison me never crossed my mind. The first mouthful was so bitter I spat it out on the plate. I noticed some white powder. I went back to the table and got a piece of bread and put it in my pocket.
“The next day, a druggist examined the biscuit and said it was full of poison,” Hough complained to Constable Newby, but his inquiry went nowhere. Newby told him Frank was well respected in the community while he was a newcomer. No one would believe him.
Another time, Hough boarded at Frank’s ranch instead of collecting his $47. One day, they went riding in the country. Hough laid down for a nap by a haystack. I “was dozing when I heard the report of a gun, followed by a charge of shot tearing off my hat brim.” When he walked around the haystack, Hough saw Frank holding his shotgun.
The San Francisco Chronicle explained what tripped Frank up and how he got caught.
“Like most murderers, Belew made one foolish and almost incomprehensible mistake. With absolutely no testimony against him and after a coroner’s jury had failed to implicate him in the murder of his brother and sister, all he had to do to keep clear of the clutches of the law was to keep his own counsel or to quietly leave the country. But for some incomprehensible reason, he made a confidant of Bird, confessing to him, first that he was about to commit the crime and afterward acknowledging that he was guilty.”
The day before the murder, Frank told John W. Bird he would have the last word.
“I have just been down to see Susie. She showed me her wedding clothes. They are going to Nevada for a tour. She and Louis have not treated me right in regard to the estate, but I’ll have some of it yet. They’ll not live to enjoy it.”
Bird kept Frank’s confession to himself for almost a month. In early December, he told District Attorney Frank Devlin what he knew.
Devlin decided Bird should continue his relationship with Frank and keep him talking. When the time was right, they would plant a spy to listen in so they could close the trap. The first attempt, in mid-December, fell apart because a windstorm kept Constable Newby from hearing the conversation.
When they tried again on January 1, Newby listened to Frank’s confession from his hiding spot in Bird’s photo gallery. He stood just two feet away and could see and hear everything from his peephole.
“Well, Frank,” said Bird, “you fooled them all in grand shape in this poisoning case not to get caught.”
“Yes,” replied Frank.
“Frank, that was a terrible thing, but you would not have poisoned Louis and Susie if they had treated you right with the estate before, would you?”
“No.”
“They were after you pretty hot for a while,” continued Bird. “You must have been pretty slick in getting the poison, so they could not find out where they got it, for they hunted every drugstore in Sacramento and all around.”
“They will never find out anything about it if you don’t tell them,” said Frank, “and I know you won’t.”
Authorities formally charged Frank with murder on February 4, 1898.
After his arrest, Frank continued to proclaim his innocence. “It’s all rot to believe I would kill my brother and sister for the paltry dollars I would get out of the estate. I have my suspicions about the real murderer, and when the proper time comes, I will do more talking.”
Frank held firm for nearly two months, but after a visit from his wife, he issued a written confession.
“I do not know what prompted me to commit the crime with which I am now charged.”
“I killed my brother and sister. I don’t know why I did it. I had no reason. I just did it, that’s all.
“I put the [rat poison] in the kettle.”
“You just put it in the kettle for the sake of killing somebody?” asked Henry James, the reporter for the San Francisco Call.
“I can’t tell.”
“How did you feel when your sister was dying, and you held her hand?”
There was a long silence, and then, “I was sorry for her. I had nothing against her.”
Then Frank explained how he slipped the poison into the teakettle. “Some of the folks had gone out to the gate, and I dropped it in while they were out there.”
“You stayed in the house for hours afterward. How did you feel? Wasn’t there a period of terrible suspense?”
“Yes, there was.”
“But you left the poisoned water there just the same?”
“Yes.”
Sheriff Rush suspected that if Frank had a chance, he would kill himself, so he put Deputy Sheriff James T. Wells on suicide watch. His family and friends had deserted him. Frank had nothing left. After his confession, Arthur Belew told Constable Newby, “It is awful. Tommy and I will not spend our money to help Frank, as it will do no good.”
Prosecutors initially charged Frank with the murder of his sister, Susan. That way, if he somehow escaped conviction, they could try him again for the murder of his brother, Louis.
At the trial, Frank filled in a few more details about the poisoning. “I had not made up my mind to do it until the day the deed was accomplished. I used Rough on Rats, that was in the house for a long time. I took the poison out of the box and threw the box away. There was about a level teaspoon full of it. I poured the drug into the tea kettle [while] Susie was in her room.”
Frank continued, saying he did not know why he had done it.
The defense called several witnesses who knew Frank when he was young to prove he showed symptoms of insanity, but Judge Buckles was not convinced. He felt, “the suggestion of an unsound mind came only after such a heinous crime was committed.” After consulting the record, he did not find any “mitigating circumstances” that would justify giving Frank Belew a life sentence instead of the death penalty.
Judge Buckles passed the death sentence on Frank Belew on April 13 and set June 13 as the date for his hanging.
No one had any sympathy for Frank.
“The man is one of the coldest-hearted and most despicable criminals California has ever seen,” said the correspondent for The San Francisco Chronicle. “There was nothing impulsive in his crime. He planned it carefully. After poisoning his sister, he actually sat by her bedside and aided in sending her to death by allowing water from the poisoned tea kettle to be given to her. Hanging is too easy a death for such a man.”
Frank Belew was hanged at Folsom Prison at 10 a.m. on June 17, 1898. He died eleven and a half minutes after the hangman sprung the trap. Before he died, Frank intimated that John W. Bird helped him. It was a good try, but no one believed him.
Frank Belew “met death with no sign of fear,” wrote the San Francisco Chronicle. “He acted out the death scene as he is said to have acted out the humdrum days of his existence and seemed no more concerned during the march to the scaffold than if he’d been going to rehearse a comedy.”
For Charles Ehmann, Susan’s fiancé, Frank’s hanging served as catharsis. When Frank’s body dropped, he grabbed prison guard Murphy’s arm and exclaimed, “This is too good to be true.”
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