LA newspaper No. 18, Nov. 4, 1972: 'The D.B. Cooper Skyjacking, Part III: Doublecross Leads to the FBI' by Karl Fleming

THE D.B. COOPER SKYJACKING Part III : Doublecross Leads to the FBI Election Predictions ★ Another ITT Scandal p. 5 p. 15 Irwindale Blackmail Caper ★ A Child of War p. 14 p. 5

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No. 18 : Nov. 4, 1972 : 25¢

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[guess: LBL-IIIe-4-21]

LA November 4, 1972 10

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IS D.B. COOPER THE [truncated at right edge]

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LEGAL TROUBLES, MORAL PROBLEMS STOP PUBLICATION OF THE STORY

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By Karl Fleming

In the previous two segments of this series, the man who called himself D. B. Cooper described how he singlehandedly hijacked a Northwest Airlines plane last Thanksgiving Eve and parachuted to safety with $200,000, and why he did it — mainly to prove he wasn't "over the hill," the implied message he got when he was fired by Boeing where he had worked for 15 years as an engineer. He showed author Fleming three of the stolen bills, and told part of the story, whereupon Fleming paid him $30,000, and then got the rest of the story in vivid detail on tape and film. In this concluding installment, Fleming tells what happened after that.

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my classified ad in the Seattle Times, and decided to make contact with me — purely to sell Cooper's story for money. Having sold it, they expressed a desire to keep in touch. Before leaving Seattle after my interviews, I asked Lewis, who said he was an engineer, to send me

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aerial maps showing the area where Cooper claimed he landed, 30 miles north of Portland. When the maps arrived, they came in a package containing a worn brass and wood hat rack — that being the antique "Gift" Lewis mentioned in his letter.

By the time he wrote, I had resigned from Newsweek, had been married, and had completed the backbreaking job of transcribing the eight-odd hours of taped conversations with Cooper. Ordinarily, a reporter doesn't do that. He takes notes, and if he uses a tape recorder, he merely selects nuggets from the tapes as he plays them back.

But this was important stuff. I had, in fact, recorded my clandestine conversations with Cooper with two tape machines. I also had a 30-minute filmed interview with him, as well as several rolls of film, and photostats of some of the stolen money.

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Curtain Act

Originally, I saw the Cooper story as but a fitting curtain act at Newsweek, which I was leaving, with mixed emotions, after 11 eventful and satisfying years. And it would be, if the timing

[partially illegible/cut off] ...show[ed] say that [Fleming] three of the stolen bills and told part of their story, whereupon Fleming paid him $30,000, and then got the rest of the story in vivid de- tail on tape and film. In this con- cluding installment, Fleming tells what happened after that.

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THE NOON MAIL OF MARCH [24] brought a convivial note from D. B. Coop- er's intermediary, "Seth Thomas," whose real name is William John (Jack) Lewis. "Best wishes on the marriage," he wrote. "Hope you have received 'the gift.' That that rack came around 'The Horn' to 'Bainbridge Island' in Puget Sound' in 1853... I'll keep you posted of any newsworthy stuff."

Lewis was a candid Babbitt, who said he had aligned himself with Cooper just for the money. "I'm strictly a percen- tage man," he said. He was negotiating and acting as planner and arranger for Cooper, who professed to want to lie low rather than risk capture. Lewis said he went to Cooper's suburban home one night just before Christmas—about three weeks after the skyjacking—and while he and Cooper were sitting in the den discussing an investment plan, he look- ed up and noticed two skydiving trophies on Cooper's mantel.

The skyjacker was obviously an ex- perienced parachutist. The news reports had all said so. Suddenly it hit him. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have about $200,000 in $20 bills that you can't spend," Lewis said to Cooper.

Cooper blinked once, then replied calmly: "Well, what if I did. What could a fella do with that money?"

The FBI had, and was circulating, the numbers of all the stolen bills. Some days later, both of them saw

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KARL FLEMING was associated with Newsweek magazine as a correspondent, Los Angeles bureau chief, and contributing editor for 11 years before resigning April 15 to found LA. While with Newsweek, he covered virtually every significant civil rights story of the [illegible] 1960s, including [illegible/cut off]

[continues from previous page — top lines partially cut off/illegible] ...and acting as planned and arranging for Cooper, who protested [illegible] want to lie [illegible] rather than [illegible] captured. Lewis said [illegible] he went to Cooper's suburban home one night just before Christmas — about three weeks after the skyjacking — and while he and Cooper were sitting in the den discussing an investment plan, he looked up and noticed two skydiving trophies on Cooper's mantel. The skyjacker was obviously an experienced parachutist. The news reports had all said so. Suddenly it hit him. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have about $200,000 in $20 bills that you can't spend," Lewis said to Cooper. Cooper blinked once, then replied calmly: "Well, what if I did. What could a fella do with that money?" The FBI had, and was circulating, the numbers of all the stolen bills. Some days later, both of them saw [text continues on next page]

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KARL FLEMING was associated with Newsweek magazine as correspondent, Los Angeles bureau chief and contributing editor for 11 years before resigning April 15 to found L.A. While with Newsweek, he covered virtually every significant civil rights story of the turbulent '60s, including Birmingham, Selma, Ole Miss, Little Rock and Watts. He covered the assassinations of President John F. Kennedy and his brother Robert and those of Martin Luther King and Medgar Evers. He was assigned to Richard Nixon during the last Presidential campaign and has covered Lyndon Johnson, George Wallace, Hubert Humphrey, Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan. He also reported on the Charles Manson and Jack Ruby trials for Newsweek and the trial of Pueblo spy ship captain Lloyd M. Bucher. Copyright © 1972 Platypus Publications

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The FBI's D.B. Cooper

LA November 4, 1972

REAL D.B. COOPER?

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happened to be right, a fitting curtain-raiser for LA. It soon became apparent, however, that the newspaper would not be launched in time to have the story.

Another possibility arose. The best man at my wedding was a trusted old friend from the South, Charles Morgan Jr., a brilliant and courageous civil rights lawyer who had been a classmate of George Wallace at Alabama and later infuriated Wallace and other such prehensile hatemongers by legally representing blacks trying to get into white Alabama schools.

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When Morgan arrived, I explained the story to him. He had agreed to legally advise me. He said I should try to get the story into print as soon as possible, in order to prevent even the appearance that I was overstepping my Constitutional rights as a reporter by withholding information about a wanted criminal. As he saw it, I didn't have a legal obligation to turn Cooper in, only to print my story as quickly as possible, and then possibly turn over my information to the authorities.

Morgan said, and I agreed, that the story seemed a natural for a book. Mor-

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gan had recently represented Col. Anthony Herbert, the officer who spoke out on military scandal cover ups, had done a book with him. He suggested I contact Col. Herbert's agent, Gerard McCauley, in New York.

There were enormous problems ahead, complicating either publication of a magazine article or a book. There was a possibility, of course, that the whole story was a fraud, a la Clifford Irving. Cooper had readily and thoroughly answered every question I asked him, and I asked him some pretty tough ones over three days of intense interviewing, ques-

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tions I didn't believe anyone—say a con man—could have predicted. The details he spun on the performance of the crisis, and his motives for doing it, were endless.

He yielded up so much information, in fact, that I soon felt I knew a lot more than I wanted to know—details, I believed, that would result in his being captured if they were published. I urged him to turn himself in and take his chances with 12 fair-minded jurors who might be impressed with the story of why he said he did it—out of rage and out of a desire to prove he wasn't the used up old man Boeing implied he was when the company summarily fired him at age 49.

He said he'd think about it. He said, meantime, he wasn't worried that any details he'd given me would endanger him. He just said he didn't want to talk to me anymore until after the story was published.

Criminal At Large

Contemplating publication, I was in a dilemma. To print it would lead most certainly to Cooper's capture. For the law to catch Cooper would be fine, but for him to be caught on the basis of information I had gathered as a reporter, I didn't like it. Nonsense, Morgan urged, the man was [a] criminal; he knew what he was doing; so print the story and quit worrying about it. I couldn't. At one time, I strongly considered destroying all the [text continues on next page / cut off]

[illegible top line] ...anymore until after the story was published.

Criminal At Large

Contemplating publication... was [a] dilemma. To print it would lead most certainly to Cooper's capture. For the law to catch Cooper would be fine. [It was] for him to be caught on the bas[is of] information I had gathered as a reporter I didn't like it. Nonsense, Morgan ur[ged] the man was criminal; he knew what he was doing. To print the story and quit worrying about it. I couldn't. At one time I strongly considered destroying all the tapes, photos, notes—everything—and forgetting the story. That posed a grim- mer prospect: I would thus forfeit Con- stitutional press freedom protection and would be guilty of actually destroying evidence. I had seen enough brutal jail[s] from the outside to know I didn't want to see one from the inside at[.]

In any case, it seemed important to publish the story, if it was true, Cooper's account of how he robbed the airline, and the eloquent explanation of why he did it—striking back at the Establish- ment for selling him an American Dream that turned out to be a nightmare—seem- ed an important if perhaps clichéd com- mentary on the problems of mass produc- tion capitalism. And Madison Avenue huckstering.

As I discussed a possible book with McCauley, it occurred to me Cooper might be induced to turn in the money, by giving him a share, say 20 per cent, of the book proceeds, or arranging with a publisher a plan by which royalties would be put into a legal defense fund. The return of the $200,000 in $20s would, naturally, be proof that we had the right man.

I had stored the tapes and other docu- ments in a friend's safety deposit box and was reading stories in the press that posses of 500 military [hands] were search- ing the woods around Lake Merwin for Cooper's body. In New York, McCauley made a quiet inquiry about a book with a friend at Harpers Magazine Press. Any negotiations he could make would have to be extremely discreet because of a chance the story would get out. Har- per & Row was eager to do it, especially after McCauley told them any contract [contingent] on Cooper returning [the money...]

[...] that turned out to be a nightmare, seemed an important if perhaps clichéd commentary on the problems of mass production capitalism. And Madison Avenue huckstering. As I discussed a possible book with McCauley, it occurred to me Cooper might be induced to turn in the money, by giving him a share, say 20 per cent, of the book proceeds, or arranging with a publisher a plan by which royalties would be put into a legal defense fund. The return of the $200,000 in $20s, would, naturally, be proof that we had the right man. I had stored the tapes and other documents in a friend's safety deposit box and was reading stories in the press that posses of 500 military hands were searching the woods around Lake Merwin for Cooper's body. In New York, McCauley made a quiet inquiry about a book with a friend at Harpers Magazine Press. Any negotiations he could make would have to be extremely discreet because of a chance the story would get out. Harper & Row was eager to do it, especially after McCauley told them any contract would be contingent on Cooper returning the money before they would be asked to put up advance money. McCauley was excited about the prospect of a book. Harper & Row, which would publish a hardback edition, and a paperback publisher which would put out a paperback, made a tentative offer of an advance exceeding $200,000. McCauley thought a movie deal might yield $1 million. Experience had taught me to be amusedly sceptical of such giddy dreams of instant riches.

A Possible Book Still, a book began to look like a reality. McCauley called to say he was arriv-[text cut off]

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12 LA November 4, 1972

D.B. COOPER:

[...text continues from prior page...] ng with four Harpers executives. It was a touchy book. Still, they were coming, with contracts, the conditions being that Cooper would have to be induced to turn in the $200,000 before they paid [h]it any money—except for $5,000 they would put up as security against their leaking the story to someone else.

The Harpers executives were ensconced in one of those pleasantly airy cottages at the Beverly Hills Hotel, having coffee when I arrived. After awhile in California, the memory dims of what a hard core Eastern Establishmentarian looks like: tweeds, and pin stripes, rep ties, paunches, and gray, pasty faces. Among them was Brooks Thomas, the firm's chief legal counsel, a careful gentleman who later would distinguish himself by turning over a book which Harper & Row commissioned on the CIA involvement in Southeast Asian drug traffic to the selfsame CIA for pre-publication approval.

Not knowing Thomas at that time, I assumed his role would be to keep Harpers' position in l'affaire Cooper delicately committed—but ignorant and thus not legally culpable. But no. After some dallying around, Thomas said, without blinking an eye, that there were new terms: before Harpers would commit itself, Cooper would not only have to turn in the money, he would have to surrender, and would have to be convicted or plead guilty. That I told them, obviously was impossible. I concluded that Harpers had become increasingly nervous about the whole affair, and was trying to get off the hook by establishing impossible conditions. Finally, in fact, Thomas said they were not interested [in continuing]...

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...to New York and get the story into print. Newsweek was naturally excited about the story. An elaborate cover article was planned, but a mood of caution prevailed. My old colleagues in the top editorial positions —"The Flying Wallendas," they were called by subaltern writers—trusted me. We had gone through a lot of important stories together. They had printed a story on no evidence but my say-so before, but this was a bigger thing. One had to weigh the risks. The possible benefit of such a story was great. If it were a phony, it could wreck the magazine, one editor said. If only some of the facts could be checked.

The FBI began checking some of them upon receipt of the material Morgan had turned over. Sitting in New York, I expected word of Cooper's arrest to come at any minute. The week passed, and nothing happened. The tension was incredible.

Then word came through a pipeline at the Justice Department that the FBI thought the bills which Cooper had shown me and given me photostats of were not for real. How that deduction was made from examining the photostats, without seeing the real bills, I did not and have not learned. But the FBI said "Cooper" had superimposed fake numbers over the actual serial numbers on the three $20 bills—making them appear to be part of the skyjack loot.

That was enough warning to hold up publication of the story. Within weeks, on June 3, the FBI arrested William John (Jack) Lewis, 32, alias Seth Thomas, and Donald Sylvester Murphy, 49, who said he was Cooper, and charged them with four counts of federal fraud. Lewis later complained that the FBI dug up his lawn looking for money and other evidence, but didn't find anything.

Murphy, it developed, was divorced, the father of three children, and lived not in a suburban home but at the modest Higgs House Hotel at 540 4th St. in Bremerton, Wash., a shipbuilding town of about 35,000, near Seattle. He was said to do business as a realty investment promoter out of the Renard Development Company at 6608 Kitsap Way.

Practically next door, Lewis, married, father of three, assistant city manager of Bremerton for a time (until he couldn't pass the civil service exam) was operating as a land investment broker and as a representative of World Wide Engineering and Product Development.

When they were arrested, I naturally [itched to hurry to Seattle and investigate]...

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[...itched to hurry to Seattle and investi]gate. Morgan dissuaded me, saying that if Lewis and Murphy were in fact con men, their best "made up" defense would be to suggest that I was implicated with them in a scheme to bilk a publishing company and therefore since we were all conspirators, then how could they be guilty of defrauding me. Morgan cautioned, therefore, against any contact.

Afterwards, still seeking information, I sent a private investigator to Bremerton to check on Lewis and Murphy. Both, he learned, had financial troubles. In the past that got them involved with the law. Lewis had been part owner of a dance tavern, an automobile speedway, and once had been arrested for stealing a raft of 15 logs.

Murphy had been divorced by his wife, Jacqueline Rose Murphy, in 1970. They had three children. He had been arrested for drunken driving, and in her several divorce proceeding documents, his wife had complained of his being drunk and verbally abusive. He once was a heavy equipment operator.

He and Lewis often were seen together at the Melody Lane Bar and Restaurant at 527 Fourth St. in Bremerton, near their offices. Murphy, people told my investigator, had been on the wagon for a year and only drank coffee when he hung around the Melody Lane Bar. He was paying alimony and child support and had little visible means of income. Nevertheless, a private investigator in Bremerton who has known Murphy for five years would not rule out the possibility Murphy [in fact] skyjacked the plane. "He is smart enough to do it," he said. Not only that Murphy was noticeably absent from Bremerton and the Melody Lane during the period [of the hijacking]...

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Nicholas von Hoffman

Is It Fat City or Rat City?

Washington HEY, PUT A PICTURE IN THE [caption text:] sio, a large Nixon campaign contributor, and a business associate of C. Arnholt[...text cut off at bottom of page...]

[largely illegible — heavily garbled OCR artifact] [partial] ...position in[illegible] Cooper del[illegible] /[illegible]... [partial] ...FBI [illegible] identify [illegible]... [partial] ...concluded [illegible] about the whole [illegible] affair, and was [illegible] trying to [illegible] off the hook by establishing impossible conditions. Finally, in fact, [illegible] Thomas said they were not interested [illegible]... [partial] ...said [illegible] without [illegible] blinking an eye, that there were new [terms]... [partial] ...or plead guilty [illegible] I told [them] [illegible] would have to be convicted [illegible]... [partial] ...he said whether he had a duty as a citizen to call the FBI. It was not one of the bet[ter days]...

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[LEFT COLUMN — first-person Cooper/Harper's narrative] involvement in Southeast Asian drug traffic to the self-same CIA for pre-pub- lication approval...

Not knowing Thomas at that time, I assumed his role would be to keep Har- pers' position in 'Affaire Cooper' deli- cately committed — but ignorant and thus not legally culpable. But no. After some dallying around, Thomas said, without blinking an eye, that there were new terms before Harpers would commit itself. Cooper would not only have to turn in the money, he would have to sur- render, and would have to be convicted on/or plead guilty. That I told them, ob- viously was impossible. I concluded that Harpers had become increasingly ner- vous about the whole affair, and was trying to get off the hook by establishing impossible conditions. Finally, in fact, Thomas said they were not interested under any conditions.

Aside from the obvious, this present- ed another problem: McCauley had ap- proached the Harpers' people confi- dentially; Harpers said it was interested; McCauley delivered a manuscript; Har- pers read it and made an offer, but now was saying it wasn't interested. At least four, and possibly more, Harpers execu- tives now knew the whole story. I asked Thomas for a collective promise of ab- solute secrecy. He said he didn't know if that was possible. He was uncertain, he said whether he had a duty as a citizen to call the FBI. It was not one of the bet- ter days.

McCauley later wrote me that Thomas is 'the kind of person we all remember in grade school — the type who trudges into the cloakroom, hangs up his macki- naw, and then all the other kids rush in and stuff snowballs into his mackinaw hood and pockets.'

One of the nagging problems about the story was the difficulty and near-im- possibility of verifying any of Cooper's statements. To go to anyone, the airline, to Boeing, and certainly to the FBI to verify the story would not be intelligent. That would be blowing my story, and causing Cooper's arrest even before anything could be published.

If there was now a chance Thomas or someone else there might talk as seemed likely, then I would have to do something...

[CENTER COLUMN — Nicholas von Hoffman opinion column] Nicholas von Hoffman Is It Fat City or Rat City?

[Washington]

THEY PUT A PICTURE IN THE papers the other day of a fine, sleek-coated, long-tailed rat taking in the sun near two old ladies in a park a few blocks from the White House. The sound of scratchings and scrabblings are audible in this capital of the world. Claws and fingernails on sheets of glassy [illegible]... no comments... and Washington's rats.

In the first days of the Nixon Adminis- tration the rats were like those of any other city, visible only by night, and then just in the alleys. About the time of the Cambodian invasion they grew more populous and emboldened enough to appear by day scuttling under cars and running across the streets. Now at the end of the term, with John Connally heading up the Democrats for Republi- cans Committee, they're in parks, not running but standing still contesting with the pigeons for dry bread crumbs.

In this city of predators the rats have no natural enemies. Yes, there's a rat abatement program, but like so much under the Nixon Administration it doesn't work. People don't realize that. They think these Republicans are effi- cient because they don't make big, dreamy, Democratic promises and then fail to carry them out.

You can break modest promises too, but that hasn't sunk in any more than the Watergate Scandal or the Milk Scan- dal or the Wheat Scandal or the [illegible — possible: 'Blank Scandal']. Nor does [illegible continues]...

[RIGHT-CENTER COLUMN — Cooper/Lompoc/Ziegler] ...a large Nixon campaign contributor, and a business associate of C.F. Arnholt Smith, a San Diego buddy-buddy of the President.

Last year John and Arnholt [Smith's brother] pleaded guilty, to income tax [evasion] and were sentenced to the Federal [prison] at Lompoc, Calif. Unlike the crooks in Rat City they didn't need to escape be- cause the 'New Republic' (October 31st) reports, '...the Alessios had things much their own way at Lompoc. Fine food, liquor and women were enjoyed by them behind bars...they made regu- lar unauthorized trips from the insti- tution, often staying overnight. Mean- while, the prison officials who made all this possible were being entertained royally and treated favorably in busi- ness deals by members of the Alessio family not in prison...'

Do they have a rodent problem at Lom- poc too? The media mice might like to ask that question also, but they're kept on a starvation diet by Ron Ziegler, the humanoid — keeper press secretary the President has set over them to feed them occasional pellets of information and grains of news. With presidential press conferences abolished for all practical purposes, the mice must live off Ziegler briefings, and they only have half enough of them because he has [cut] the daily briefings from two to one...

With their rations reduced to the level of pernicious anemia last week, they squeaked at their keeper as he stood in front of the blue curtain in the White [House]...

[FAR RIGHT COLUMN — Murphy/Bremerton/Cooper investigation] ...and Lewis often were seen together at the Melody Lane Bar and Restaurant at [illegible] Fourth St. in Bremerton...

...Murphy, people told my investigator, had been on the wagon for a year and only drank coffee. Then he hung around the Melody Lane Restaurant, was paying alimony and child support, and had little visible means of income. Nevertheless, a private investigator in Bremerton who has known Murphy for five years would not rule out the possibility Murphy... in fact...asked [about] the plane. 'He is smart enough,' the man said. Not only that, Murphy was notably absent from Bremerton and the Melody Lane during the period of the skyjacking. His erst- while drinking crony...didn't see him around the Melody Lane for two weeks...

Lewis and Murphy...skyjacking trial Nov. 22...Larry Finegold, they...will prosecute for the government... D.B. Cooper hijacked...Like the other passengers, he didn't see much, but he doesn't think William Sylvester Murphy is D.B. Cooper. Nor does the FBI. Last week, military troops were dispatched again, to search for Cooper's body. There was also a rumor that the brother of Cooper had been located, and he said Cooper did it because he was dying of an incurable disease.

The fraud case was yet to be tried but strong evidence seemed to be accu- mulating that Donald Sylvester Murphy, my Cooper, is not the real Cooper.

A private investigator checked again last week and says that Murphy had n[ot] been employed at Boeing, and had [a] military record of as a jumper. Neither fact, of course, is proof that Murphy did or did not hijack the airplane. In theory anybody smart enough to pull it off would be smart enough to concoct an elab- orately fictitious background for himself. Or; anybody smart enough to do it and tell a story for money, but tell it in such a way that it appeared to be a hoax.

But in the end, or to this point, it seems appropriate to conclude that Murphy is not Cooper, which means I jumped h[astily to conclusions]...