The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murders by Chris Ellis Read Free Book Online Page B

the stairs to the dress circle and paused, looking around; more people in the audience recognized him as he turned and headed to the white door which gave
entry to the corridor outside the presidential box. Army Captain Theodore McGowan, who was close by, testified later that Booth took a pack of visiting cards from his pocket. Booth then showed one
of them to the President’s footman and messenger, Charles Forbes, who was sitting near the white door, before going through the door, closing it behind him. He was now within touching
distance of the President – the bodyguards who should have been guarding the door were clearly not in attendance. Years later one would admit that they had moved in order to get a better view
of the stage, leaving Lincoln completely vulnerable.
    Safely ensconced in the corridor Booth now took the wood block he had hidden earlier and positioned it to prevent the door from being opened. The play was now in full flow and laughter filled
the theatre. With the sound more than covering his own movements Booth slipped stealthily into the presidential box and moved towards Lincoln’s rocking chair. The presidential party were so
engrossed in the play that Booth’s arrival went unnoticed by them, although a restaurant owner sat opposite noticed the stranger’s arrival. James P. Ferguson had come to the theatre
that night in the hope of seeing his idol, General Grant, so when he saw the shadowy shape of someone moving in behind the President, he hoped and expected it to be Grant.
    Lincoln was sat forward in his chair, his arms resting on the railings and looking down at someone in the orchestra pit. Ferguson saw what happened next. The President suddenly turned as if to
look at the stranger and in that very instance he saw the blue flash of Booth’s Derringer. The audience were still laughing when the shot splintered into Lincoln’s skull. Almost
immediately he slumped into his chair, while Mrs Lincoln leaned toward her husband to hold him up. Major Henry Rathbone, who was sharing the presidential box, looked through the smoke and could see
Booth standing there. Rathbone lunged towards Booth knocking the pistol out of his hand but Booth had drawn a dagger and was slashing mercilessly at him. In the heat of the struggle Booth managed
to break free, leapt onto the railings and then off towards the stage. Unfortunately for Booth one of his spurs got caught in one of the flags shrouding the presidential box, his normally perfect
balance was disrupted and he landed heavily on just one foot, breaking two small bones in his left leg.
    Amazingly the 1,000-strong audience did nothing; many presumed the madman jumping onto the stage was all part of the act. It had taken just thirty seconds from Booth entering the presidential
box to leaping onto the stage and escaping, most people still unaware of the monumental tragedy which had unfolded in their presence, all that was left was a curl of smoke drifting through the air.
A moment later and everyone knew something terrible had happened as Major Rathbone shouted instructions to stop the escaping man, his voice barely audible above the screams of Mrs Lincoln.
    Two men who did react quickly were A.C. Richards, superintendent of the Metropolitan Police, who was sitting in the dress circle, and Joseph B. Stewart, a Washington lawyer. When Richards saw
the man limping away, he dashed down onto the stage and began searching the backstage area, where he was joined by Stewart.
    Booth meanwhile was heading towards the back door, his dagger still drawn and flashing dangerously in the dim light. As he hobbled down the passageway leading to the rear exit door he found his
way blocked by William Withers Jr, the leader of the orchestra, who had gone backstage during a break. Booth was in no mood to make requests and slashed out at Withers twice, the first slicing
through his clothing the second delivering a nasty wound to his neck. Once outside he screamed at