Tall, Dark, and “Handsome Jack” Koetters (1912)

Tall, dark, and handsome, John B. Koetters, aka Cutter, fit his nickname “Handsome Jack.” His dimpled chin, in particular, was irresistible to lonely widows and old maids alike. He was affable and could turn on the charm on cue. If he had one defect, it was a missing joint of his right index finger—a lingering reminder of an industrial accident and the fatal clue that would end his career as a Bluebeard.

A “Jack of All Trades,” he worked at various times as a railroader, an elevator operator and a machinist in a soap factory. But, Koetters also loved the high life and games of chance—a lifestyle beyond the means of a laborer. In 1911, he found a quick and easy way to obtain a large sum of money in the person of a lonely Cincinnati widow named Emma Kraft.

Fifty-six-year-old Emma Kraft had accumulated a sizable estate including real estate holdings that could be liquidated with little time and effort.

Kraft was putty in the hands of thirty-five-year-old “Handsome Jack.” He knew exactly what charms would work on the elderly widow, and she quickly became smitten. Slightly suspicious when Koetters asked her for money, Kraft could withstand his advances only for so long before she relented and the two became lovers. He promised to marry her; she gifted him $800; he disappeared.

Then, Emma Kraft received a letter from Koetters. She responded by telling him that she would go anywhere he asked. He may have asked her to meet him in Chicago, where, he once again promised, the couple would tie the knot.

She swallowed the bait. She liquidated some of her assets in preparation for her new life with Mr. Right, packed up her jewelry, and left for Chicago without notifying her relatives, who she believed, wouldn’t support her decision to elope.

With $2,000 in cash, another $1,000 in checks, and all of her jewelry, Mrs. Kraft checked into the Saratoga Hotel on November 14, 1912, for her romantic rendezvous with Koetters. According to an eyewitness, she was on the arm of a man that signed the guest book under the name “Joseph Remner.”

The “honeymoon,” however, didn’t last long. Once he had romanced the wealthy widow to Chicago, “Handsome Jack” planned to steal her money and jewelry. She may have still had a smile on her face when he caved in her skull with a claw hammer wrapped in a shirt.

From employees of the Saratoga, Detectives obtained a description of “Joseph Remner”—the man last seen with Mrs. Kraft. The Saratoga desk clerk remembered him well, because “Remner” was missing a finger on his right hand. The description fit Koetters, who was also missing a portion of his right index finger. The chief suspect, however, had simply vanished. A nation-wide manhunt ensued.

Wanted posters were printed and sent to police departments throughout the county. Chicago authorities banked on Koetters’ gambling habits as his undoing and suggested police comb “race tracks and pool rooms.” They also provided a telltale clue about the fugitive’s identity: a missing joint on his right index finger—a reminder of his days in the soap factory.

The leaflet sent to San Francisco bore an interesting, handwritten notation from Sgt. Jim Shaunessey that indicated how desperately Chicago P.D. wanted the collar “Handsome Jack”: “I wish you would do your best on this.”

Chicago Chief of Detectives John J. Halpin received a hot tip from a Cincinnati woman who said she saw Koetters there with a woman in her forties wearing expensive jewelry. But by the time police followed up on the tip, Koetters had once again disappeared.

“The Cincinnati police have missed a good chance,” Halpin despaired. “Koetters is a smart man. He may change his disguise again, and lose himself with his friends.”

“Handsome Jack” apparently traveled west from Cincinnati, next showing up in Kansas, where police wanted to speak to him about Mrs. Ralph Hegen, a married woman who went missing on November 18. Investigators had interviewed a busman who said he transported Koetters to her hotel that evening. They had no more luck in finding their suspect than Chicago detectives.

By February 1915, police still hadn’t found “Handsome Jack” Koetters. Bowing to pressure from Chicago police, Governor Deneen offered a $200 reward for the arrest of the fugitive slayer. He also authorized rewards for three, other murderers who had managed to sidestep the long arm of the law.

Almost a year from the day Governor Deneen offered the reward, Koetters was found in San Francisco when an amateur detective identified Koetters from a photograph printed in the San Francisco Call. The amateur contacted SFPD, who found “Handsome Jack” and an unnamed female in a boarding house. She told police that Koetters attempted to cajole her into making him the beneficiary of both her will and a sizable life insurance policy—sinister undertones hinting that the woman had just escaped a fate similar to Emma Kraft’s.

Koetters admitted his identity, but in a statement to the police, he denied just about everything else. “I swear that I never killed Mrs. Kraft. I knew her, but I never made love to her. I never went out with her in my life. I never took a dollar from her. I did not kill her. I could not do such a thing. I was in Chicago in November, 1912, but I am not sure whether I was here on the 14^th., when she was killed.”

After more than a year on the lam, “Handsome Jack” went to trial for the murder of Emma Kraft.

On the last day of the prosecution’s case—March 26, 1914—the jury heard Emma Kraft testify from beyond the grave as the prosecutor read a sequence of love letters to Koetters. The letters contained salutations such as “ever yours,” and “from your sweetheart.” In one letter, the lovesick widow declared she would go to him if he asked her.

After Koetters didn’t fulfill his promises, Kraft became suspicious. “You don’t come and coax me now,” she complained. “Now would be the time to come and coax me, after you got my money. You are enjoying yourself since you got my money, with other women—the one of Ravine street, the dancer. You have done nothing that you said you would. All you were looking for was my money. If anything happens to me, you are to be blamed.”

It didn’t take long for the jury to render a verdict of guilty.

On May 2, 1914, Judge McDonald of Chicago’s Criminal Court sentenced Koetters to life in prison. When Koetters heard the sentence, his knees buckled.

“You are doomed to spend the rest of your life behind prison bars, and I hope that during your dismal years you will repent this crime,” McDonald said.

“I can’t you Honor. I can’t do it,” Koetters cried. His emotions had taken control. “I can’t repent a crime I never committed.”

McDonald ordered the bailiffs to removed the convicted slayer, who contineed to wail as they dragged him away. “I did not do it. The testimony against me was perjured.”

His voice grew faint as he was pulled down the corridor. “I did not do it. Did not do it…did not…do it.

John B. Koetters, alias “Handsome Jack,” died on July 13, 1933, inside the Illinois State Penitentiary. Joliet Jack was fifty-seven years old. He is buried in the Stateville Prison Cemetery.