Walkabout: The Corrupt Tale of the Last Coroners of Brooklyn, Part 2

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In Part 1 we met Edward B. Coombs and George H. Nason, the last elected coroners of the independent City of Brooklyn. Coroners did not have to be pathologists back then. They were elected officials who presided over inquests into suspicious deaths and billed by the case. These public officials found themselves on the wrong end of a corruption scandal in 1897, and by 1898, Coombs was on trial for fraud. Our story continues:

As Edward Coombs’ fraud trial continued, the jury heard damning testimony about faked invoices and inquests. Coombs, with the help of trusted subordinates, had fabricated records for over a hundred inquests that had never occurred.

These reports were submitted with the names of people, many of them babies and children, who had died of disease and natural causes, making inquests unnecessary. Coombs simply changed ages and a few details, and used a family’s grief for his own profit.

Coombs had concocted fake addresses, jurors, witnesses and other details to pad out his invoicing. In a city of millions,  he probably figured no one would notice a few extra inquests, especially during the chaos of unification with the rest of New York City. But the District Attorney’s office had caught on.

The District Attorney was trying to clean up corruption at all levels of city government in order to deliver a clean slate at unification. To their horror, the D.A.’s investigators were finding corruption everywhere.

The case against Coroner Coombs was overwhelming. The jury came back with a guilty verdict on the most serious charge, grand larceny. Coombs sat there stone-faced, showing no emotion. He thanked his lawyer and was taken off to the Raymond Street Jail to await sentencing.

His co-coroner, the also-indicted George Nason, came to the trial every day. When Coombs was found guilty, Nason took it less well than the defendant did, turning white as a sheet. He hurried out of the courtroom and disappeared before reporters could catch up to him.

The next week, Coombs appeared before the judge for sentencing. He could have received a maximum sentence of seven years in the state prison at Sing Sing. After some deliberation, the judge sentenced him to 19 months in the Kings County Penitentiary and a $1,000 fine.

Coombs nodded appreciatively, his lawyer filed an appeal on a technicality, and he was led away.

Kings County Courthouse, BPL 1

Kings County Courthouse, 1901. Brooklyn Public Library

The District Attorney’s office had been busy, and uncovered a vast web of fraud and corruption in ex-Mayor Wurstler’s old administration. Various other departments, including the Board of Auditors, the Controller’s Office and the Board of Aldermen, the precursors of the City Council, were now under investigation.

The Brooklyn Eagle printed several editorials on the subject. They were shocked, absolutely shocked, at the corruption going on under the public’s very noses.

As far as Coombs was concerned, the Eagle opined that he should be grateful for the lenient sentence, do his time, and move on. They thought that his bid for a new trial due to a technicality was a long shot, and frankly, messing with fire.

His lawyer’s statement that his client was being punished for a crime that had been going on for years probably swayed the judge to leniency. Trial testimony had shown that Coombs and Nason had simply carried on a tradition of corruption that was much older than they were.

Coombs stayed out of prison for almost a year, waiting for a ruling on his appeal. In April 1899, the Appellate Court upheld his conviction, sentence and fine. He was to begin serving his sentence as soon as the paperwork came down from Albany.

The trial of George Nason– which had been put on hold awaiting the results of the appeal — could now move forward.

Coombs surrendered to the authorities and was taken to Kings County Penitentiary, in what is now Crown Heights South. It was a bleak, overcrowded place, known for being poorly run. It was, however, a lot better than being at Sing Sing.

Kings County Pen, 1896, NYPL 1

Prisoners in the yard at Kings County Penitentiary, 1896. New York Public Library

The New York Times reported that he arrived at the gate with a few friends and handed over a pair of gold cufflinks and a few dollars to the clerk. He was given a black and white striped uniform and assigned to cell 57. He would receive his work assignment later that day.

While Coombs broke rocks in the prison courtyard, the investigation into the other departments of city government went on. It turned out that the coroners’ fraud was nothing compared to what was going on elsewhere.

The Grand Jury indicted 14 people in the City Works Department. The former department commissioner, Theodore Willis, and William E. Philips, now the Police Commissioner of the City of New York, were co-indicted with the most serious charge – conspiracy to defraud the city. The rest were indicted on various charges of accepting bribes, falsifying reports and work, conspiracy and false auditing.

Willis and Phillips told reporters they were innocent — and outraged. After all their years of service to the City of Brooklyn, how they could be charged with anything was just beyond the pale. The men put up $5,000 bail and were released on bond.

Phillips was asked if he intended to resign from his new position as head of the Police Department. He said no. He had committed no crime, he insisted, so why should he resign?

The case rested on an emergency fund the city had for repairs, and the contractors who got the “emergency” contracts. The jobs were supposed to be put up for bids, like all city work, but they all went to one company.

That company, run by Daniel and Daniel F. Doody, father and son, got the contracts without bidding, and overcharged the city for the work. They then paid kickbacks to the accused.

Construction, 1902, BPL 1

City construction, 1902. Brooklyn Public Library

Granted immunity, the Doodys gave testimony to the Grand Jury, and were lined up to be the main witnesses at the trials.

Instead of starting at the top, prosecutors started with the underlings, hoping they would provide testimony to convict their bosses. Robert R. Fielding, the ex-Deputy Commissioner of City Works, was the first to be convicted, the trial ending about a week after Coombs went to prison.

He was convicted of submitting false bills issued by the Doodys. In court it was shown that he had also “borrowed” money from the Doodys for a down payment on a house on 8th Avenue in Park Slope.

The D.A. thought he would be racking up a row of convictions for some of Brooklyn’s most powerful ex-city commissioners and their top staff. Unfortunately for him, Daniel Doody proved to be a nightmare. He lied repeatedly on the stand, and no one believed a word he said.

In the end, Fielding’s case was overturned, and the remaining cases were all thrown out.

George Nason also caught a break. The ex-coroner was exonerated when a famous handwriting analyst testified that Nason’s signature and writing had been forged on all of the faked documents. The D.A. had no other real evidence, so that case too was tossed, in 1901.

A few months before, on August 20, 1900, the only person who’d served time in the corruption scandals that rocked the last city administration in Brooklyn walked out of the Kings County Pen. Edward Coombs had gotten out in a little over a year, released early for good behavior, and the fine he was supposed to pay had been waived.

Coombs looked pale and had lost weight. He had been divorced right before the scandal hit, and had no family there to welcome him. The net cast over Brooklyn’s city officials, designed to rid the new borough of the last taint of corruption, had netted only him. The big fish, as usual, got away.

Coombs told reporters that he was leaving Brooklyn and would start his life over again somewhere else. Can you blame him?

Kings County Courthouse, Postcard, 1

Civic Center, Brooklyn. Undated postcard

Top, postcard of Kings County Penitentiary, 1901

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