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In the Line of Duty ::
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A violent past and a tragic mistake


May 15, 2006
Chapter III


Scene setter: nearly 1 a.m., Tuesday, Oct. 29, 1918

Aurora officer Alfred "Swede" Olin and rookie Lester Wedemaier have been called to a restaurant on Broadway to assist with the arrest of two men suspected to be involved in the theft of a Buick. Two men in the restaurant had started an argument with a waiter and police discovered they were driving a stolen car.

These guys' story wasn't making much sense to Alfred Olin.

These two guys were driving a stolen Buick, or at least a Buick with stolen plates, but they didn't seem too concerned. The drivers of the car, an unsightly looking man with a scarred face and a common fellow with thick blond hair, had caught another policeman's attention by starting an argument in the diner about the amount of sugar allowed in their coffee.

Then they told Olin they were driving from Dundee to Chicago, but had ended up Aurora. It would have been a detour the length of Kane County.

Olin and his partner, rookie cop Lester Wedemaier, had been sent to check out the situation.

"You will have to go over to headquarters with us," Olin said, when he approached the men.

"Is this about the sugar?" asked the man with the scarred face.

"That is one reason," Olin said. "And the other is that we want to look you over."

The name of the man with the unforgettable face was Frank Williams, although police knew him as William Von Gundy. A month ago he had been arrested by Chicago police with safe-cracking tools in his hand, tools police believed he used in the dramatic robbery of the Heller-Rose Jewelry store three months earlier.

And yet compared to his partner, Von Gundy was a choirboy.

With neat blond hair and a charming manner, you'd hardly know Walter Stevens was one of Illinois' most arrogant and dangerous criminals.

He first made the newspapers as a "slugger" for a pipe-fitters union. As labor unions first started to emerge in the United States, companies hired street gangs to threaten the union membership and discourage their activities.

In response, the unions hired "sluggers" for protection and recruitment. Stevens was a natural fit. As a union slugger, Stevens was adept a carefully explaining – with fists if necessary – how important their choice of unions really was.

And for the really stubborn ones, like William "Dutchy" Gentleman, Stevens simply made the decision with a bullet.

Stevens also had a reputation as the immune gunman. He bragged openly that he had been arrested more than 300 times and never so much as paid a fine.

And in fact, while he and Von Gundy were sitting in the Aurora diner, they were wanted by police for their involvement in the Heller-Rose robbery. During the escape, Stevens had nearly killed a Chicago police officer, trying to crush him between two cars as he fled the scene.

In 1918, police departments had no method to see who was wanted in other jurisdictions.

So as the Aurora officers approached the dimmed diner there wasn't any easy way for Olin or Wedemaier to find out that they were walking up to Chicago's criminal royalty.

A possible stolen car – that was all the information Olin had at his disposal when he approached Stevens and Von Gundy, asked them to get in the Buick.

If he suspected anything more serious, Olin didn't take the time to search either Von Gundy or Olin. It would be a fatal mistake.

So Chicago's underworld leaders got in the front seat of the Buick while Olin and Wedemaier got in the back.

From the back seat, Olin narrated directions to the police station as Von Gundy drove: turn at the corner, west on Fox Street toward the police station.

Finally, Olin asked Von Gundy to make a left into the driveway of the police station.

"Like hell I will," Von Gundy responded, speeding past city hall.

CHAPTER IV


Just after 1 a.m. Tuesday, Oct. 29, 1918

October 29 was officially the start of Lester Wedemaier's third week as an Aurora police officer.

The rosy-cheeked 23-year-old baseball fan had left the Hinckley police force precisely 22 days earlier. In Aurora, he replaced an officer only recorded in the historical annals as "Ugland," whose tenure with Aurora lasted a whole four days.

As the car driven by a suspected car thief sped away down Benton Street, Wedemaier must have been thinking that Ugland had the right idea.

Wedemaier and 7-year Aurora veteran Alfred Olin were attempting to bring Walter Stevens and William Von Gundy to headquarters for questioning about a stolen Buick. Not knowing their suspects were wanted for murder and armed robbery in Chicago, Olin had failed to search the suspects before getting in the back seat of the Buick.

As they neared the police station, William Von Gundy, the driver, accelerated past headquarters. At the same time, Von Gundy's passenger, Walter Stevens – described in Chicago papers as "noted bad man with a trigger" – turned around and pointed a gun at the Aurora officers.

Stevens fired, hitting Olin twice in the chest.

"They got me," Olin groaned.

The shots must have exploded through the car, but later Wedemaier hardly remembered hearing them.

Wedemaier, 6-feet, 204 pounds, grabbed at the gun. Stevens fired a third shot over Wedemaier's shoulder that went through the roof, ricocheted through the plate glass window of Harkison Drug Store, narrowly missing a German helmet on display in the store window.

Wedemaier finally got a hand on the gun but Stevens kept firing. His fourth bullet hit Wedemaier in the groin and the officer grabbed his leg.

Stevens had been in gunfights before and when Wedemaier let go of the gun, Stevens saw an opportunity.

He shoved Wedemaier out of the car's passenger side door and the policeman tumbled onto the street, falling on his hip.

Laying on Downer Street, Wedemaier grabbed for his gun. Stevens shot once more out the window.

Wedemaier tried to return fire. His gun was jammed.

He stood up and attempted to get behind the car, which had stopped on the Fox River bridge, but his revolver still wouldn't fire. The fall from the car had broken Wedemaier's gun.

That's when Wedemaier heard another blast from inside the Buick and Olin fell out of the car, fracturing his knee.

The Buick began to flee. Wedemaier watched as Olin raised up on his elbow and fired four shots. Bleeding, Wedemaier tried to find a taxi to chase the shooters.

Olin told Wedemaier to run to the station for help. But the Buick was already gone.

Tomorrow: A massive police hunt comes up empty in the search for Walter Stevens and William Von Gundy

Notes on first section:

This story was recreated from Beacon News and Chicago Tribune stories before the arrest and during ensuing trial. William Von Gundy's name is also spelled Van Gundy in some articles, but more commonly the arrangement used in this story