by Paul R. Spitzzeri
The arrest in New York City on 20 July 1926 of American Catholic Church priest and actor, not to mention ex-convict, Philip A. Goodwin, on suspicion of the murder, committed four months earlier, of bonds broker Joseph J. Patterson in the remote Santa Ana Canyon in the northeastern fringe of Orange County. Goodwin, nabbed at a vaudeville actors’ hall and purportedly preparing to perform a play to prepare for raising funds for a church, initially considered fighting extradition, but chose to waive a hearing and agreed to return accompanied by sheriff’s department officers.
A photograph published in the Santa Ana Register on 11 August, showed the wanted man and a a jailer after the disembarked from a train and headed for the county lockup. A week later, the preliminary examination was held before Justice of the Peace Kenneth Morrison and a parade of witnesses for the prosecution took the stand. The Register of the 18th reported that,
Goodwin, dapper and calm, sat beside his lawyers throughout the examination yesterday, making notes and at times talking with reporters and with his attorneys. He appeared little disturbed over circumstances which brought him all the way from New York, to answer to the murder charges.
Checks and stock certificates were produced that contained the names of the victim and the accused, along with a signature of Samuel Reeder (or Reader) and it was noted that “Goodwin appeared deeply interested and examined the signatures carefully.” Deputy District Attorney Charles N. Mozley posited for the prosecution the presumption that the perpetrators, Goodwin and “Abe Dewey,” meaning Albert Gaines, whose middle name was Dewey and by which moniker he was generally known, left on or about 13 March with Patterson from the latter’s apartment in the Crown Hill section of Los Angeles, west of downtown.
Within a few days, the former pair returned to the Angel City with the story that Patterson stayed behind in Tijuana, the border city in Baja California, México (and where Americans routinely went to freely imbibe alcoholic beverages proscribed under Prohibition) to attend horse races at the Agua Caliente track and would by away for several days. When Patterson’s landlord asked about him, Goodwill reportedly produced a letter from the absent friend and that another missive was sent to the apartment house keeper.
Yet, within short order, stock certificates issued by the Julian Petroleum Company, a concern that caused a great deal of controversy during that era, as has been discussed in a prior post on this blog, were found to have transferred to Goodwin. Other evidence was adduced that was alleged to have been damning with regards to Goodwin’s involvement in Patterson’s death, including as prepared to board the train for the east.
The next day, the paper informed readers that Justice Morrison ruled that Goodwin was to be held to answer to the county Superior Court and refused to set bail, so the accused was confined to the calaboose. Moreover, defense attorneys Edward Davin and Willard Scott offered no evidence or witnesses, while it was pointed out that Mozley had the disinterred skull of Patterson, who was buried in a potters’ field at an Anaheim cemetery, introduced to the court to show that he was killed by a blow to the back of the head. A doctor testified regarding his view of how death was administered using a sharp, but dull, instrument.
Key among the evidence cited was that, on 18 March, Goodwin opened a checking account at an Angel City bank and deposited $2,000, a handsome sum for the era, but that, as of late August, only a little more than eight dollars remained. A former bookkeeper for a Los Angeles brokerage company testified that he sold Julian stock certificates to the firm and the intent, clearly, was to link Patterson’s death to the presumed stolen instruments, yielding at least $2,000, which Goodwin then placed in the bank and, within a short time, withdrew all but the paltry amount left. Lastly, it was observed that “Goodwin was interested in all the details and laughed and talked with his attorneys throughout the examination of witnesses.”
While Goodwin awaited news of a trial date from his cell, his partner was tracked down and apprehended at Great Falls, Montana, where he worked as a railroad brakeman under an assumed name of W.P. Wilson, though the Register of 14 September stated he was a tramp on a railcar when arrested before it corrected the info later. Admitting his name was Albert Gaines, the prisoner revealed he was an ex-con and waived an extradition hearing and Orange County Sheriff Sam Jernigan was praised for his relentless efforts, including in Colorado and Utah, in tracking him down.
Apprised of the news, Goodwin replied that it was “both interesting and surprising” and that it was obvious that Gaines would discountenance any knowledge of Patterson’s demise, adding that, with his former compatriot’s arrest, “we now will be able to get to the bottom of this affair and, by so doing, I feel confident of vindication.” Claiming he had “no fear of the facts,” the erstwhile cleric remarked that Gaines’ detention meant that it was time “to clear up much of what has seemed mysterious regarding some of my associations with him.”
A week later, the paper noted that,
A signed confession, purporting to tell virtually every detail of the murder . . . and which is said to strongly implicate the alleged American Catholic priest, Philip A. Goodwin, was made late yesterday by Albert Dewey Gaines . . .
According to the district attorney’s office, the confession made by Gaines implicates himself as well as Goodwin, and was given by the prisoner of his own free will.
The mea culpa, details of which were withheld pending further investigation, was witnessed by Jernigan, Mozley and a group of deputies. Additionally, Gaines traveled with authorities to Santa Ana Canyon “and ably described the place as he last saw it, and did not hesitate in taking the officers to the spot in the canyon where the crime was committed.” He was said to have known where he was throughout the visit and did not hesitate in identifying the location where Patterson was killed.
Also of significant was that Robert Patterson, the murdered man’s brother, launched his own investigation as well as positively identified the remains as those of his sibling. He took what he discovered to Orange County District Attorney Alexander P. Nelson and warrants were issued for Gaines and Goodwin, the latter seized within a day. Meanwhile, it was noted that the former’s preliminary hearing was scheduled for 11 October and the latter’s trial a week later. Lastly, while Goodwin expressed confidence that he would be exonerated with Gaines’ arrest and the resulting revelations on evidence, the latter laughed and told authorities, “he’s crazy, I can vindicate him.”
Yet, in the Register of 23 September, Goodwin told a reporter, “I know about the confession Gaines is said to have made and, if he told the truth, then I will be vindicated,” adding he did not know if his former partner committed the murder, but remarked “if he really made a confession, then it will clear me.” It should be noted that, for almost all of this period, the pair were confined in the county jail, but at distance.
Gaines’ preliminary hearing ended up delayed for two months, while Goodwin’s trial proceeded with his former confederate, obviously, the star witness. Also not surprising was that the two turned on and blamed each other for Patterson’s killing. The Anaheim Bulletin of 16 October reported that Nelson and Mozley were to petition for the death penalty if Goodwin was found guilty. The account continued,
So far the prosecution has been reticent regarding its plans for the case . . . with an alleged statement from Albert Gaines . . . and with allegedly strong collaborative evidence of a character which is being guarded, Nelson and Mozley are confident that Goodwill will be sent to the gallows, they say.
There was a slight delay as Goodwin dismissed Davin and Scott from representing him and, after being rejected by a Santa Ana lawyer and discountenancing a public defender, hired Kitt Gould, who came down from the central California town of Clovis with his daughter, Rhoda, who assisted him because of near-blindness, as his counsel.
Displaying his theatrical flourishes, Goodwin decided that he would sometimes appear in court during his trial wearing his clerical costume rather than always donning civilian clothing, telling the Register “Aimee McPherson wears a new hat to trial,” the famed Angel City evangelist was charged with criminal conspiracy over her mysterious disappearance in May, but the matter was dismissed before it went to court, “so I think I’ll change my garb sometimes.”
On 21 October, the Goodwin trial commenced and jury selection went quickly, with the dozen members, of which just one was a woman (females were allowed to serve on state juries in 1917, and an alternate, chosen by suggestion of the defendant seated inside of an hour. A Register sidebar observed that “13 Looms in Goodwin Murder Trial,” not just because of that number of jurors, but also that Goodwin’s Los Angeles address was 1313 Crown Hill Avenue, that the murder was on or about 13 March and, as he noted, “my name has 13 letters in it, too, if that makes any difference to anyone. It doesn’t to me.”
The following day, the paper began its coverage with, “drama, which has lurked furtively in the background, today took sudden courage and walked boldly into the midst of the Goodwin murder trial.” This was due to the approach taken by Mozley with respect to what took place “on a lonely canyon road” and the “brushy, secluded retreat” from which the accused and the deceased were said to have entered, but from which only the former returned. The account went on,
Mozley, his arms fluttering in a frenzied sweep, repeated the words that Goodwin is alleged to have told his companion and co-defendant [sic], Albert Gaines, who waited for him at the wheel of an automobile, near the spot where Goodwin is charged with slaying Patterson.
Gaines was reported to have asked where Patterson was and getting an angry rejoinder to forget about it and drive away, upon which the former was said to have observed smoke rising from the scene and Goodwin purportedly tossed an empty gas can out the window a mile or so away. Water district employee Guadalupe Lemos came upon the scene nine days later and, subsequently, a belt buckle with the letter “P” on it and a distinctive watch charm, surviving the conflagration, were linked to Patterson.
Other details enunciated by Mozley were that, in addition to the purchase of gas for the can, there was liquor consumed by Gaines and, especially, Patterson, who was inebriated to the point that it was reported Goodwin told his compatriot to pull off Santa Ana Canyon Road, which preceded the 91 Freeway as the state highway through the Canyon, because he allegedly had friends there to take in Patterson, deemed too drunk to drop off at his apartment in Los Angeles. Reportedly, Goodwin took Patterson in the direction of the purported house near the Santa Ana River while Gaines was instructed to return to the highway.
Another primary figure introduced by the prosecution was Milton Carlson, a handwriting expert called to testify that it was Goodwin who forged Patterson’s signature on the Julian certificates as well as typed the letter said to be from the deceased and sent to his landlord. Also of note was testimony from a Los Angeles County deputy sheriff called to a bank by staff when Goodwin submitted checks for deposit or cashing that had the name “Samuel Reader,” and with Goodwin saying he had Reader’s power-of-attorney and could produce him, if needed.
A San Diego hotel cigar stand clerk told the court that she saw three men playing dice and was struck by the fact that one wore clerical garb, identifying Goodwin, as well as Gaines, who was present for the proceeding, and, when Robert Patterson was made available to her, observed that there was a strong resemblance to the third man. A Los Angeles banker related how Goodwin told him that the $2,000, from sale of Julian stock to the brokerage, was to be used for expenses to New York for the staging of the play to raise money for an American Catholic Church edifice. Other funds were for “Ed Cramer,” an alleged friend of Goodwin, for a traffic offense, but a state patrol officer testified that Goodwin used that name when he and two others were pulled over on 13 March, while heading for San Diego.
The star witness, of course, was Gaines, but Gould scored a point when he noted that a $14 check with Patterson’s signature was passed by the witness three days after the killing, though Gaines tried to explain this by saying he was handed a blank check, filled it out, except for the signature, and gave it back to Goodwin, while they were at the home of an American Catholic Church bishop who ordained Goodwin. Gaines then claimed his partner returned the check, with Patterson’s signature, though he professed not to have looked at the inscription.
While the prosecutors painted their main witness as a voluntary confessor, Gould portrayed Gaines as a hardened criminal and so drunk when the murder happened that any statement by him was to be considered useless. The Register of the 28th noted, “Gaines’ attitude on the stand was one of naive, boyish candor” as “he spoke ingenuously of his own moral shortcomings, his prison records, his thirst for liquor” and more, while opining that this approach “may have taken much of the sting” from Gould’s relentless attacks. At one point, the witness complained to Judge Emerson J. Marks (later a federal appellate court jurist), “he’s asking me a lot of foolish questions, to which the jurist replied, “well, you try to answer them as best you can.”
Gaines added the tidbit that, when pulled over on 13 March near San Juan Capistrano, this was in conjunction with the officer also forcing another car to do so, this driven by world heavyweight boxing champion, Jack Dempsey, who lost his crown in September at the American sesquicentennial exposition at Philadelphia. Another detail of note, not connected by the media, was that, in San Diego, Goodwin registered under a false name and put his hometown as Charleston, West Virginia, with Patterson being a native of Charleston, Missouri. Gaines offered plenty of detail, including, of course, about what allegedly transpired in the Canyon on the morning of 15 March with Patterson’s murder and the fact that Goodwin, giving him $400, sent him back to Utah by train.
Gould and his client, clearly seeing the writing on the wall, decided that Goodwin should testify in his own defense, a rare circumstance and often seen as a sign of desperation. The defendant claimed that Patterson was not on the return trip to San Diego, though other witnesses seemed to corroborate what Gaines testified, and that they did not travel through Santa Ana Canyon. He also disputed that amount of time it took to return to Los Angeles. Goodwin insisted that he hardly saw the others when in that southern metropolis, though he admitted to shooting dice in the hotel, as the cigar stand employee stated.
As to the Julian stock certificates, he stated that these were given to him by Gaines, who bought them from Patterson against Goodwin’s advice that the investment was too risky. He also claimed that Gaines intended to give $1,500 of the stock sale to the priest for that play in New York City. When a juror asked why the proceeds went into Goodwin’s account, he answered that it was because of the play and added he gave Gaines up to $1,000 at different times, including $299 of the stock money. With respect to the “Samuel Reader” name, the testimony was that Gaines used that alias and the account was for him, not Goodwin.
Yet, in two days of testimony, Goodwin proved exceedingly nimble and ready for any question, never contradicting himself and coming up with detailed answers every time. When Gould made his closing arguments on 3 November, the Register noted it was laden with “sarcasm, innuendo, insinuation, feigned surprise and dramatic elements.” He excoriated the prosecutors for “framing” the evidence, dismissed Carlson’s handwriting analysis and asserted that an iron hook, introduced as the likely murder weapon, was more likely to be wielded by Gaines, the larger man, rather than his diminutive client.
District Attorney Nelson used religion as a main theme for his closing argument, telling the jury,
“had the priestly garb of that man truly represented the character beneath, then Joseph Patterson would be alive today,” while, respecting the defendant’s unflappable testimony, he remarked, noting that Goodwin had a writer’s imagination and an actor’s abilities,
In all my 30 years’ experience as a trial lawyer, I have never encountered a more astute mind; a more colossal liar. I had not cross-examined him for more than 10 minutes before I knew I could make no progress with him. I continued my efforts for one purpose—to show this jury how clever a man it had to judge.
Critical for Nelson was the fact that it was proven, by Carlson, that the letter to the landlord and another from Goodwin, by his admission, to Gaines, had the same misspelling of “Tui Juana,” instead of “Tia Juana,” a common moniker for Tijuana in those days. He also cited the fact that most of the ill-gotten gain from the Julian stock sale went to Goodwin, whose attempts to claim that Gaines gave him the money for his play plan were among those aspects cited as “not practical” in the defendant’s telling. This led the district attorney to tell the jury, “it is a safe assumption that the person who receives the proceeds of a crime is the person who committed the crime.”
While Gaines’ account was essentially corroborated by other witnesses, Nelson was sure to remark that he was “tarred with the same criminal brush as Goodwin.” After Nelson finished, Judge Marks immediately instructed the jury and, after just over 45 minutes, a remarkably short period for the era, the jury returned with a guilty verdict, after a first ballot was 10-2 for conviction and the two holdouts quickly changed their positions for the second and final one. on 9 November, Marks, who denied a new trial motion, sentenced Goodwin to death by hanging, the penalty to take place on 14 January 1927 at San Quentin State Prison, to which he was to be transferred within a few days.
But, this was hardly the end of the legal process for Goodwin (the featured photo here is from his mug shot at San Quentin on 14 November, but the red-ink “DEAD” inscription referred not to an execution, but to his natural death at Folsom State Prison in 1942), as we’ll see with part three—be sure to check back for that tomorrow!