I have been fascinated by the Lindbergh kidnapping since I saw the 1974 film of Murder on the Orient Express. The film opens with a silent scene of the kidnapping of little “Daisy Armstrong.” As the kidnapper makes his way through the darkened home, it is not the parents who encounter him, but the servants. Most notably, the nanny who is seen tied to a chair, struggling fiercely, unable to protect her charge.
In 1932, when Charles Lindbergh Jr. was taken from the Lindbergh house in Hopewell, New Jersey, the police strongly suspected it was an inside job. The Lindberghs only spent weekends at the Hopewell house. Their son was kidnapped on the first Tuesday they had ever stayed there—and it was a last minute decision to stay. The staff came under intense suspicion, especially Charlie’s nurse, Betty Gow. A young Scots woman who had worked for the family for a year, Betty Gow was intimately involved with the event at almost every point. She was the last person to see Charlie alive and it was she who discovered he was missing. Perhaps not surprisingly, she was a suspect, as was her boyfriend, Henrik “Red” Johnson, a Norwegian sailor she had not known for long and who moved to New Jersey to be near her.
The tragedy had an enormous impact not just on the child’s famous parents, but on the people who worked for them. Lives were destroyed. Was there an inside man or woman? If so, who was it? The Lindbergh Nanny is a novel. But this was a real loss suffered by a real family and those who loved their child. I have tried to stick closely to reported fact, handling the experiences and emotions of those involved with the respect they deserve. It was a challenging, at times harrowing, story to live with. But also deeply rewarding. If there is terrible loss, there is also great love. I hope I have done Betty Gow’s story justice.