The Primrose Lane

the detective arrived, the room was silent. He knocked, but not getting a reply, he tried the door, Finding it unlocked, he stepped inside. The blood was everywhere, the walls, the ceiling, the floor, or the sheer amount of it surprised him. A man, also covered in blood and wearing a woman's kimono style robe, stood beside the bed, calmly puffing away on a cigar. A woman lay sprawled on the bed, her face partially obscured by a bloody handkerchief. Her throat

had been cut from ear to ear. She had also been shot twice in the chest. The man, identified as William Jeney Ellis, confessed to killing his wife, Eleanor. She was a prominent socialite and he suspected she had been having an affair. He told the police that she was the grandest little woman in the world. She had begged for her life, but had been in a jealous rage.

For the prosecution, the case was open and shut. William thought differently and hired a very specific lawyer, one who had already represented several men accused of killing their wives. In one case, the lawyer, George Remis, had shocked the jury by taking swigs of the poison his defendant had allegedly used to kill his wife. The act convinced the jury his client couldn't have possibly poisoned her. After his client walked free, George admitted he had made an elixir

to neutralize the poison. You see, before he was a lawyer, he had worked for years at his uncle's pharmacy. As an adult, he had even owned a couple of drug stores before switching careers. He advised William to plead temporary insanity in March of nineteen fourteen. George argued before the court that his client hadn't been in his right mind when he killed his wife and therefore could not be held responsible. He pulled out all his theatrics, weeping and pacing.

He swore to the jury and judge that his client was remorseful and truly had no idea what had happened until he found himself standing beside the bed. The jury didn't buy into the total lack of responsibility and returned a guilty verdict, much to George's surprise. However, to his delight, they did buy the insanity plea and spared William's life. The judge handed down a fifteen year sentence with a

chance for early parole. George had become quite successful at defending men who murdered their wives, but by nineteen nineteen, another opportunity presented itself. The Volstead Act, also known as the National Prohibition Act, was gaining ground. George sensed an opening. With his knowledge in pharmaceuticals and the law, he thought he just might have something even more lucrative than being a defense attorney. I'm Lorn Vogelbaum, Welcome to American Shadows.

Although he primarily handled murder cases, George Dreamis was adept at keeping up with various laws outside his specialty. The more he read into the Volstad Act. The more he liked the loophole. He had discovered the Act had noble goals, like protecting women and children from abusive alcoholic husbands and fathers. The theory went that outlawing alcohol would put an end to the epidemic of abuse. The law didn't stop people from drinking, though sales went underground and behind the counter.

As the son of an abusive alcoholic himself, you might have thought George would be against adding to the problem. Instead, he focused on the potential profits. The loophole was entitled to Section six, alcohol could be bought and sold for medicinal purposes. All anyone needed was a doctor's prescription and a pharmacy to fill it. George owned a couple of pharmacies and knew he could easily buy off a few doctors.

He deemed the loophole the greatest comedy and perversion of justice he had ever seen, and began to meticulously plot how to take advantage of it. First, he closed his Chicago law practice and moved to Cincinnati, where most of the country's pre prohibition whiskey had been stored. Next, he bought up whiskey distilleries and drug companies, making sure He

listed different names as the owner of each business. Then he bribed state prohibition directors to look the other way, and finally he organized a transportation company to move the alcohol. All told, he stood to make a hefty fortune. But there was more. The real money was in the black market. George had the product, now he needed to divert it. He had a plan for that too, hire gangs to

hijack his own trucks. The scheme, which he called the Circle, was complex and honestly brilliant, and just as he had hoped, the money poured in. He hired secretaries to falsify paperwork, chauffeur a personal He also hired a real estate broker named Connors to handle his property and distillery deals. Of all his underlings and employees, George liked Connors the most, and though he trusted the realtor enough to share integral parts of his operation, there was one person he trusted

even more. His second wife, Imagine, was a beautiful young woman, her figure voluptuous, her dark hair and eyes striking. She had a young daughter, Ruth, from her first marriage. George called Imagine his partner in everything. He was truly smitten. The two had met in nineteen fifteen, when she walked into his office and asked him to handle her divorce. George commiserated with her over his own rocky marriage to Lillian,

with whom he had a daughter, Ramala. His wife had threatened divorce before, stating had been cruel to her and their daughter. Imagine made herself his confidant and indispensable to his law practice. He gave her a sizeable allowance, enabling her to quit her day job and live in comfort. George adored Imagine in Ruth more than his wife and daughter, and doated on them every chance he got. He saw himself as their knight in shining armor, once beating a

plumber who tried swindling Imagine for a higher fee. The assault pace went to court, but George painted himself as defending Imogine's honor, denying the affair and stating that he was simply there to support her through her divorce. The jury found him not guilty. This was the last straw for Lilian, and she filed for divorce in nineteen twenty, winning a generous settlement and a trust fund for their daughter. After the divorce, George sold everything, married Imogine, and moved

his new family to Cincinnati. The loophole had not made him simply wealthy. George had become exceedingly rich. His business and influence extended across the country, even to the White House. He and Imogine settled into a mansion overlooking the Ohio River. The couple through lavish parties and gave their guests expensive gifts. George quickly made connections in high places. Attorney General Henry Daherty worked closely with George and promised him protection from

any legal trouble in the business. George even met President Warren G. Harding, who was notoriously linked with the criminal underworld. For a while, George was untouchable and life was good. Then the President died in office and Harry's prohibition operation came under scrutiny. Two months later, agents arrested George for violation of the Volstad Act, among other crimes. In he

was sent to a federal penitentiary in Atlanta. To salvage his wealth and empire, he parented the person he trusted with everything, imaging granting her power of attorney if anyone could hide the money, she could. George was sentenced to two years in the Atlanta Prison and given a ten thousand dollar fine. The money wasn't a problem, the sentence was. He was furious with the Attorney General for not upholding his promise of protection. Federal agents were still digging into

George's finances. He felt like the world had come crashing down on him, but at least he had Imogene. She sauntered into the clerk's office wearing a red dress and signed for her husband's bonds, freeing him until January, when he started serving his time. She moved to Atlanta and visited her husband almost every day. Life inside the prison may not have been as glamorous as his outside life,

but George hardly lived like most inmates. His donations to the warden allowed him to have a private cell, a new mattress with expensive sheet, a private bath, his own refrigerator, and instead of doing labor, he worked in the prison library. He ate separately from the other inmates, often dining with the warden, and the two had lavish meals served on fine china and linen's Imagine was allowed both social and

conjugal visits and often brought him home cooking. He was prone to fits of anger that he claimed were temporary outbursts of insanity from having the world he had built for himself destroyed, making those fits worse. The Bureau of Investigation was intent on finding out where he had hidden the money. Little did he know that sent one of their best agents to pose as a prisoner and gain his trust. Franklin Dodge was charming and young, just thirty

years old, with dark hair and good looks. He made himself sympathetic to George, and before long he found out that George had placed all his trust and business affairs with Imagine. With this information in hand, frank And left the prison to work on the case. Word traveled, though before long George found out that Franklin had been a plant and requested a meeting, intending to bribe the agent.

When that didn't work, he offered info on prominent leaders from Ohio to the White House in exchange for a pardon. Franklin said, did have to think about that and check with the office. George had an ace up his sleeve, though, knowing the agency was investigating his wife. He asked Imagine to cozy up to Franklin and convinced the agent to see things differently. A life in prison was getting increasingly worse.

The warden was on trial for corruption, ending many of his former favors, and George's fellow inmates told him that Imagine had been getting real cozy with Franklin. The two had been seen strolling the streets and dining out together. George angrily dismissed their accusations, thinking that his wife was only doing what had asked and nothing more. But when frank Lynn abruptly left the bureau and the two still spent time together, he suspected his wife might actually be

having an affair. By the end of August, George's sentence had been shortened. Soon he'd be a free man. Imagine visited him, though their conversation seemed strained. Convinced that once he was free, things would go back to normal, he gave her a diamond ring, promising they'd have a quiet and happy life together. After the visit, George felt pretty good about the future again, until a package arrived that afternoon.

He opened it to find divorce papers. Stunned, he tried talking to Imagine, but she refused to stop the divorce. George walked out of the penitentiary on September two. All he had left were the clothes on his back and the pending divorce papers and a check for thirty six dollars that Imagine had sent him. He had put Imagine in charge of everything to prevent the government from seizing his assets. She had sold off most everything. His entire

empire had been systematically dismantled. All the cash was gone too. He realized the colossal mistake had made a trust in woman who had helped him dupe his first wife. He returned to Ohio and was livid when he discovered that Imagine and Franklin had been living together at their mansion. He found little comfort in the frens he had left. They all thought that Imagine had earned everything she had. Feeling betrayed by every one he had ever trusted, George

began plotting once more, this time for revenge. Little did he know Imagine and Franklin weren't done plotting either. Not long after his release, George found himself before immigration authorities to prove he had come to the States legally as a child. It seemed that Imaging and Franklin were trying to have him deported. The immigration courts dismissed the case, but his troubles were far from over, the word came down that the couple had spent fifteen thousand dollars of

his money to hire a hitman. George called the Bureau, offering himself as a star witness in upcoming prohibition trials. As a former kingpin bootlegger with ties to the Harding administration, his testimony and knowledge would be invaluable. His network had, after all, supplied most of the nation's illegal liquor. He told them he could testify against the mob in New York City and the underworld's fastest rising star in Chicago,

al Capone. The Bureau agreed. While acting as a professional witness, George worked diligently to recoup some of his lost assets. He provoked Imaging's power of attorney, placing it instead with Blanche Watson, a whiskey dealer he had once worked with, a shrewd businesswoman. She began sorting out how much money Imagine and Franklin had taken. Most assets hadn't left paper trail. George had been careful about that, and it had come back to bite him. Meanwhile, friends told him about his

wife's exploits. During his time in prison, it seemed everyone had known about the affair the warden had been dining with had caught Imagine and Franklin in a very intimate position on the sofa in his office. Imagine had bought seven cars while he was in prison, and had given at least one of them to Franklin. George spent his days walking the empty mansion and probably wondering when the

government would seize it, and thinking of Imagine's betrayal. Angrier than ever, George cross petitioned the divorce, refuting Imagine's claims of cruelty. It wasn't lost on him that she had used Lillian's reason for divorce in his filing, though he cited infidelity. The cross petition enraged Franklin, as in pen did back then. While men having affairs wasn't particularly looked down on, a woman having one was. As George had come to Imagine's defense years ago, it was now Franklin's turn.

The former Bureau agent told the press that Imagine was an honorable woman and that he was simply assisting her with her divorce. George had other words for the press. His wife had invested her own money into his business and did see her in jail. He left out that He wanted her behind bars, not because it was justice, but from spite that his former mistress turned wife had

left him for someone else. George acquired a cult forty five from the current Attorney General, saying he needed it in case another hit man came calling a bad idea for sure, though it was about to get worse. One morning, as Imagine walked with friends and her lawyer to the Atlanta courthouse, George passed by and she shrieked. It's not clear if he whispered a threat to her or she caught sight of the gun, but she begged him not

to kill her. George rolled his eyes and remarked to a nearby reporter how dramatic his wife could be, especially when playing the victim. He met up with her a couple more times that year. He wanted his money back, and Imagine seemed interested in mending their marriage. George went back to prison throughout nine for a final charge against him. When he was released, he was scheduled for another court appearance his divorce. On October six of n he asked

friends to allow him a few private words with Imagine. Alone. He spotted her dressed in black and accompanied by her daughter, Ruth, who had turned out to look exactly like her mother, Imagine, didn't have any intention of talking to George and hailed a cab. George ordered his driver to follow them and cut the cab off. Imagine ran from the cab, and he set out after her. He caught her and spun her around to face him, Seeing the colt in his hand,

she professed her love for him. George replied that he who danced down the Primrose Path must also die on it. Then he pulled the trigger behind him. Ruth began to scream. He turned himself in and confessed. For Charles P. Taft, a prosecutor and son of the former president, it was an open and shut case. George had other plans, though. He pleaded insanity due to his wife's affair, and, just like the case back in nineteen fourteen, the jury found

him not guilty due to insanity. George laughed heartily at the verdict. He had gotten his revenge, but he didn't laugh for long. Instead of prison, the state temporarily had him committed to an asylum. It's barely a footnote, really, Maybe something scribbled on a cocktail napkin or a rumor passed along by hotel staff or guests at a party, their heads pressed against one another as they whisper. He

met him right here. According to the seal Bach Hotels history, the two men met at the bar one night, a larger than life racketeer and the reluctant soldier who favored the bar whenever he was on weekend leave. They definitely didn't become friends. They might not have so much as exchanged a single word. But while the kingpin wasn't likely to remember the young man in a Brooks Brothers suit,

the young man certainly remembered him. The soldier had walked in one night, just as had done countless times before, with high hopes spend enough money to buy liquor. While every time before he had walked out and drunk and empty handed, this particular night, he walked out with exactly what had been looking for. No, not one of the many attractive women or in entry level position in the bootlegging business. He left inspired, and it's easy to see

where he got it. The seal Box Hotel is as grand as it is historic, an example of bose are architecture, with high ceilings, sweeping staircases, and opulent chandeliers. The hotel is a wedding hot spot, and in nineteen twenty it's characteristic combination of French Neo Classicism, Renaissance and Baroque styles made the hotel's Rascalar ballroom the place to be seen. The twenty one year old soldier found the place unlike any other. The bartenders served cold gin on a copper

topped bar. Pretty girls were plentiful, as were the men anxious to meet them. Brisk jazz played in the background, inviting many to dance. Romances bloomed and faded in the blink or wink of an American Women had just won the right to vote, and some had taken to wearing straight, loose knee length dresses and skirts. They cut their hair into bobs, drank and smoked cigarettes, and were considered far too independent for polite society. Known as flapper girls, they

were the icon of the Roaring twenties. Celebrities often flocked the ballroom, as did racketeers and mobsters like Al Capone, Lucky Luciano, and George Remus. As the music played and the liquor flowed underworld kingpins smoked cigars, drank bourbon, and played cards. All the while the soldiers sat on a bar stool, watching and scribbling down notes. Little did he know that the party lifestyle he witnessed would soon become

his own. Of all the men in attendance, though one in particular stuck out, George Remus, the bootleggers over the top personality had been exactly what he was looking for. After leaving the hotel, the soldier read up on him. The rest, as they say, is history. That young soldier wrote what's considered one of America's greatest novels. It's said that the hotel in the book was modeled after the Seal Box itself, and that the main character, Jay was

inspired by George Remus. The novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald, author of The Great Gatsby. There's more to this story. Stick around after this brief sponsor break to hear all about it. The word conjures up backhill distilleries, speakeasies, and the legal bootleg operations during Prohibition, but for much of American history, moonshine was legal. The earlier English colonists didn't take to the new waves of Scottish and Irish immigrants, forcing them

to form their own communities. Most settled in the Appalachians, where they distilled liquor, mostly whiskey. While the colonists weren't thrilled with the newer immigrants, they were happy to have them fight against the British and the American Revolution. But when the war ended, the gratitude ended and the Irish and Scottish retreated to the mountains. Though they had found a new business selling moonshine. The liquor became popular during

times of stress and economic hardship. In the late seventeen hundreds, the government sought to tax the liquor, causing farmers and distillers to protest. Known as the Whiskey Rebellion, The skirmish became the first known test of the newly formed government. When the conflict ended, moonshiners found ways to evade taxes until the Civil War. Until then, most Americans saw the distillers as farmers looking for an extra way to stay afloat.

But once again the government stepped in. Moonshine wasn't the legal of farmers, and distillers could make all they wanted, and consumption wasn't the problem either, but selling it required paying taxes, and no other state got more aggressive about tax in liquor than Georgia. Unfortunately for the federal agents sent into the state's northern hills to collect the moonshiners were equally aggressive and resistant to their presence. Violence often

erupted between agents and still operators. When public opinion about collecting taxes on liquor shifted in favor of the government, moonshiners took to assaulting anyone they thought had turned them in. But the people who most often routed out the distillers were other moonshiners trying to take out the competition, and the real divide between the general public and distillers came

when there were shootouts in the streets. This started the Moonshine Wars, which lasted from eighteen seventy until eighteen nine. Federal agents had a hard time shutting down the distillers who didn't pay taxes because they couldn't find where they had hidden their stills. Those who lived in the hills knew every back road and trail, and the big city agents didn't. The moonshiners who had served in the war also knew a few tricks when it came to defending

their property. In the spring of eighteen seventy eight, Lieutenant McIntyre of the U S Army was murdered while assisting Deputy Marshal's raid Gilmer County. The deputies became convinced the killer had been one of the two Jones brothers and set out to capture them. The arrest wouldn't be easy. The Jones family lived in the most remote section of the county. The brothers easily eluded authorities for the better part of a year. At one point, the search party

for the brothers exceeded fifty men. They raided Ayrs Jones home, but found only his wife and children present. Raids on the family property also turned up nothing, and though some family members were arrested, no warrants for the search had been given. Judges in Atlanta had no reason to hold the family and released them. The agents were relentless, though vowing revenge for McIntyre's death. Once they finally caught up with the brothers, they were brought to Atlanta for trial.

As spectators gasped at the sight of them. The men were massive, their long black hair was unkempt and wooly, and their thick beards and fierce eyes gave them a wild, unsettling look. The deputies didn't have enough evidence to convict them, and the men were acquitted. They immediately headed back to Gilmer County and the moonshine business they're brushed with the law didn't end with their release, though their business increased,

drawing the attention of federal agents once more. Though the agents issued warrant after warrant and conducted search after search, the Jones brothers managed to keep on the move. The rumors that had relocated to Chattanooga County surfaced, and agents assembled another man hunt. Though they didn't have high budgets or government connections, the brothers managed to disappear into the mountains, picking a path if you wanted to follow. American Shadows

is hosted by Lauren Vogelbaum. This episode was written by Michelle Muto, researched by Ali Steed, and produced by Miranda Hawkins and Trevor Young, with executive producers Aaron Mankey, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. To learn more about the show, visit Grim and Mild dot com. From more podcasts from iHeart Radio, visit the iHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts,