“Lured out to the vacant Woodside rental, Guldensuppe opened a closet door — and was shot in the head by a waiting Martin Thorn. They’d sawed off Guldensuppe’s head, bundled the legs, the midsection and chest, and then mixed up a basin full of quick-drying plaster and dropped the head in. Thorn and Mrs. Nack took the next ferry, carrying heavy-wrapped parcels. From the back of the boat, they tossed the plaster-encased head, which sank instantly. Then they threw the torso over too. But that didn’t sink. Horrified, the two scattered the other two pieces elsewhere, hoping nobody would find them. They then split up, planning to reunite in Germany, and Thorn pawned the dead man’s clothes to hide out in a $3-a-week room on 25th Street. When detectives swooped in on the room, they found Thorn’s valise filled with newspaper clippings about the case. He’d followed the sensational coverage, just like everyone else.”
—The New York Post wrote about the historical murder that “plunged New York into scandal,” bringing a new style of journalism—sensationalism—into newspapers across the country. It was 1897; there was a love triangle, a murder, a headless body in the river. Basically, all stuff that would sell papers in 2011. There’s a book out now detailing the murder, as well as the “tabloid wars” that started as the daily papers—including William Randolph Hearst’s The New York Journal and Joseph Pulitzer’s New York World—fought to break the story.
-KH
[NYPost, NYT, h/t @maghabepolitico, the20newyork]