I recently conducted an online interview with Texas author Clint Richmond about his compelling book, Fetch the Devil. Years of obsessive research has culminated in a break-through theory of what really happened to Hazel and Nancy Frome in 1938, when they disappeared while traveling. One of the most infamous unsolved cases in Southwest history, Richmond used information unavailable to lawmen at the time to reignite this long-cold case. Fetch the Devil is a must-read.
Fetch the Devil: The Sierra Diablo Murders and Nazi Espionage in America
Clint Richmond
ForeEdge (An Imprint of University Press of New England), 2014
Why did you
choose to write about the Frome case?
When
I covered the criminal courts beat for the old Dallas Times Herald in the early
1960s, I was privy to some of the storytelling sessions about the lawless 1930s
conducted by legendary sheriff Bill Decker. He described working on the
unsolved murders of the Bay Area socialites during his early law enforcement
career. Unsolved murder cases—particularly the infamous ones that are
investigated for years—always pose a challenge to journalists. Decades later,
as a freelance writer, I decided to delve into the murders to see where the
case stood, and if it had book potential. During a hiatus between other
projects in the 1990s, I began poring over newspaper stories on the Frome
murders in the archives of the University of Texas history library. The more I
read, the more intrigued I became.
When did you
first become aware of the Nazi connection in what may, at first glance, have
seemed like a robbery gone bad?
In
doing background reading on the period and location of the Frome murders, I ran
across material on the little known, but prolific, pre-World War II Axis
espionage activities on the U.S.-Mexico border. With further research, I
discovered that a West Coast spy cell, operating out of the San Francisco
German consulate, had a major conduit to South America through El Paso. Although Hazel and Nancy Frome were from the
Bay Area, I did not immediately make the connection. At that point I thought I
had another potential book about Nazi espionage in the American West.
Over
a period of years I was able to get FBI and military intelligence files
declassified under the Freedom of Information Act. I triangulated this
information with material from other archives, including a massive cold-case
file I discovered at the El Paso Sheriff’s Office, on a Texas Open Records Act
request. It eventually became clear to me that there were just too many people,
places, and things in common to be coincidental. I realized I was in an
evidentiary labyrinth—the espionage activity and the murder were not two
stories but one very big, overlapping story!
This case involved blackmail, kidnapping, torture and execution-style
murder, Nazi espionage, Texas Rangers, a larger-than-life borderland
sheriff, movie stars, and big-shot
business executives in a potential crossover true crime/espionage book.
Do you think
that if all the law enforcement agencies had worked cohesively together that
this case might have been solved?
As
is still too frequently true—in small crime cases and big ones—local, state,
and federal law enforcement agencies are reluctant to give up their turf. This was especially true in the Frome murder
case, which was hamstrung by rivalries between individual West Texas sheriffs,
between El Paso sheriff Chris Fox and the Texas Rangers, and between Chris Fox
and the Frome family’s hometown police force. The lack of cooperation and
information-sharing in the Frome case was further exacerbated by the fact that
much of the FBI’s concurrent investigation of Nazi espionage--wiretaps, mail
surveillance, break-ins of suspected subversives’ offices and homes--prior to
World War II was not authorized under U.S. law.
There was no way FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover was going to risk
revealing the bureau’s extralegal activities, even if it would help solve a
local murder case.
Nevertheless,
even closer cooperation between the Texas Rangers and the El Paso sheriff may
not have produced better results, since the two sides were holding so firmly to
their theories of the crime. The Rangers were adamant that it was a simple case
of highway robbery, while Sheriff Fox believed—correctly—that the motive for
the crime originated in the Bay Area, not in Texas where the murders took
place. What did probably prevent solving this case was the attack on Pearl
Harbor. The investigation was simply subsumed in the fog of war and never again
allocated the necessary law enforcement resources.
At the end of
your book, you write a detailed and compelling account of what you think
happened to the Fromes. Are there any
other scenarios that could possibly fit the known facts?
Short
of a written confession surfacing in a trunk in a dusty attic, with some
contrary evidence to support it, I don’t believe another more plausible
solution will be discovered in the Frome murder case. The fact that the women
were held for days and tortured and some of their most valuable jewelry was
left on their bodies, seems to preclude simple robbery as a motive. The fact
that neither woman was raped or otherwise sexually abused eliminates sadistic
sex as a motive. The victims’ apparent
dearth of enemies and the innocence of their social associations would seem to
eliminate revenge or risky behavior as scenarios for murder. However, as with
any officially unsolved true crime mystery, we can never be completely
satisfied that the Frome murders are now a closed case. I certainly invite
readers to ponder the evidence presented and reach their own conclusions.
Romano Trotsky,
the man with 36 aliases and who was likely involved in the kidnapping, scammed
hundreds of people. His career of crime
was never stopped for long. He was a
loathsome character, and the fact that he found his “wealthy widow” and lived
happily ever after is disgusting. Who do
you think this man really was?
Like
the case itself, the man called Trotsky will always remain at least somewhat
mysterious. Judging from his approximate age and the fact that his native
languages were Eastern European, I think we can safely assume he was a part of
the Slavic diaspora of White Russians and Ukrainians or Romanians that flocked to
North America as a result of the Bolshevik purges and massacres. Most likely,
he was a brigand before he left the Russian environs and continued to live by
his criminal wits after arriving in North America. What little medical skill he had was probably
gained as a military medical corpsman during the Russian Revolution or World
War I. While he was a glib liar, his
other mannerisms suggested he did not have much formal higher education. I
think we can be certain he was not a nephew of the exiled Bolshevik leader Leon
Trotsky, and he was certainly not an heir to the deposed tsar Nicholas. His
true name may have been none of three dozen aliases whose identity and personae
he assumed.