American History Tellers - The Plot to Steal Lincoln's Body | The Counterfeiters | 1

Episode Date: February 9, 2022

In the 1870s, a gang from Chicago hatched one of the most audacious criminal plots in American history. They planned to steal the body of Abraham Lincoln from his tomb in Springfield, Illinois, then hold the president’s corpse for ransom.  The brazen plot began in an unlikely place – the murky world of fake money. In the mid-1800s, counterfeiting was so rampant in the United States that it threatened the financial stability of the entire nation. One especially notorious counterfeiting gang was run by Big Jim Kennally – and when Big Jim’s most talented engraver was arrested, it drove his gang to take the leap from counterfeiting to grave-robbing.Listen ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App. https://wondery.app.link/historytellersPlease support us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's June 1876 at Oak Ridge Cemetery in Springfield, Illinois. You're part of a tour group visiting Abraham Lincoln's tomb. Your guide is a man with a salt-and-pepper beard who stands lecturing in front of some glass cases. You're not really interested in the contents of the cases, except for a blood-stained bandage from the night Lincoln was shot. But even that's not what you're here to see. You finally interrupt the droning guide. Excuse me, I don't see a tomb. Where's the body?

Everyone turns and looks at you. The guide eyes you a bit warily before he answers. Well, I was just about to get to that. Come this way. Everyone. He leads your tour group out of the little museum and around to the other side of the building. You count your steps as you follow him. It's about 50 paces. This is the mausoleum, where the great emancipator lies in rest. You push your way through the crowd to look. The entrance to the tomb is guarded by a padlocked metal gate and a flimsy wooden door with a glass window. You peer through the window into the mausoleum itself.

Inside, you see a huge marble sarcophagus surrounded by a few crypts containing Lincoln's dead children. You're surprised at how shoddy it all looks. The masonry near the ceiling is crumbling, and there's a puddle of rainwater on the floor. You push your way back and find the guide. And that's really his body in there? Yes, after the assassination... So he's just lying inside a marble box?

Well, no, there's a series of coffins. And what are they made of? Wood? Why do you ask? My grandfather is an undertaker. It's family business. I'm curious. That's a lie, but it seems to satisfy the guide.

Ah, well, inside the sarcophagus is a cedar box. Inside that is an airtight coffin of lead. And inside that is honest Abe. Oh, you must have pretty tight security around here. Lots of guards at night, I bet. But instead of answering, the guide crosses his arms. Tell me, sir, why are you so interested in Lincoln's tomb? For a moment, you fear you've gone too far.

You've scrambled to think of something to say. Well, he was a great man, and I'd hate to think of something happening. I've always looked up to him. When I was a kid, my brother and I even made fake stovepipe hats. This is also complete baloney. But to your relief, the guide's face softens. My son used to do that, too. Lincoln was a great man. People loved him. Yes, in fact, that's why we haven't found security necessary.

There's no need to mar the beauty of the memorial to such a revered man with guards and huge gates. You nod, trying to look thoughtful. But inside, you're almost laughing. He's telling you everything. And when he finally finishes, you shake the guide's laughing. He's telling you everything. And when he finally finishes, you shake the guide's hand and give him a nickel tip. Then you turn to leave. But as you do, you take one last look around, sizing the place up. The next time you visit this tomb, it will be in the dead of night, and you'll want to know your way around. You visited Lincoln's tomb today as a tourist, but you'll be returning soon as a body snatcher.

Kill List is a true story of how I ended up in a race against time to warn those whose lives were in danger. Follow Kill List wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C True Crime shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History the events, the times, and the people that shaped America and Americans, our values, our struggles, and our dreams. We'll put you in the shoes of everyday people as history was being made, and we'll show you how the events of the times affected them, their families, and affects you now. The plot to steal Abraham Lincoln's body began in an unexpected place,

the world of counterfeiting. In the mid-1800s, America faced a counterfeiting epidemic. In some places, roughly half of all bills circulating during the Civil War were fake. The crisis threatened to bring down the economy. To combat the problem, the Treasury Department opened a new agency, the Secret Service. Long before they protected the president, Secret Service agents were tasked with hunting down counterfeiters. It was a matter of national security. Patrick Terrell was one of the Secret Service's first agents in Chicago. And there was one counterfeiting gang in particular he wanted to bring down, run by James Big Jim Keneally,

which included the best counterfeiter in the country, a master engraver named Ben Boyd. But the Keneally-Boyd gang was not only interested in counterfeiting. They were ruthless criminals, willing to do anything, no matter how outlandish, to keep their enterprise alive, even rob the grave of a beloved former president and hold his corpse for ransom. This is Episode 1 in our three-part series, The Plot to Steal Lincoln's Body, The Counterfeiters. Van Boyd was born in Cincinnati in the 1830s.

As a child, he showed artistic talent and grew up to become a gifted and creative young man. Boyd's father, an engraver, trained his son to take over the family business. But that never happened. Instead, Boyd grew close with another Cincinnati engraver named Nat Kinsey. Kinsey did gorgeous landscapes, but he had a darker side too. On the sly, he was a counterfeiter. In the mid-1800s, most counterfeiters had their roots in engraving. Engravers etched designs onto metal plates, which were then covered in ink and used to print pictures. Metal plates were also used to print

money, both real and counterfeit. These phony bills were called coney, and a good engraver was key to any successful coney ring. So in the mid-1850s, Kinsey recruited the most talented engraver he knew, Ben Boyd, and offered to initiate him into the underworld of counterfeiting. Boyd was just 20 years old, a stout young man with dark eyes and hair going prematurely gray. He didn't care much for church, but he never touched a drop of alcohol. He considered it corrupting. Still, he wasn't so pure that he was above entertaining Kinsey's offer. In fact, the idea excited him.

Taking over his father's business would have been steady work, but dull. Boyd had a greedy streak. He was fascinated by the idea of making money, literally making it, printing it up sheet by sheet, conjuring it out of thin air. He agreed to join forces with Kinsey. Boyd made his first plate for a fake $20 bill in his father's workshop. When Kinsey saw Boyd's handiwork, he was thrilled. It was gorgeous. And soon he and Boyd became partners, printing fake money and spreading it around the Midwest. Boyd and Kinsey had a good run in the counterfeit racket for a few years, but the duo got caught in the late 1850s.

The circumstances surrounding their arrest remain unknown, but Boyd spent two years in an Iowa penitentiary. After that, he abandoned Kinsey and moved to Chicago in the early 1860s, looking for better opportunities in the big city. There in Chicago, Boyd fell in with a new circle of counterfeiters. He also met the love of his life, a young woman named Allie Aikman. She was the daughter of a counterfeiter from Indiana and admired Boyd's skill. The two quickly became an

item. But Boyd's talents didn't just win him the girl. Eventually, they won him the attention of the kingpin of Midwest counterfeiting, Big Jim Keneally. Keneally was in his late 30s then, six feet tall with hard gray eyes. He'd done time in prison for stealing horses, among other misdeeds. Keneally actually lived in St. Louis, but he spent much of his time in Chicago, where he co-owned a sleazy bar that served as a front for his counterfeiting operations. He also had substantial connections in Springfield, Illinois, the state capital, a few hours south of Chicago. Unlike most counterfeiters, Keneally rarely touched any fake currency himself.

Instead, he served as a dealmaker. He scouted for talented engravers, then connected them with so-called shovers, the people who distributed the counterfeits on the street. But the Civil War changed the counterfeiting business. Before the war, the federal government did not print paper money, just low-denomination coins. Paper money was only made by private banks. But the need to quickly pay soldiers and purchase supplies during the war forced the U.S. government to start printing paper in the early 1860s. The new bills were called greenbacks after the green ink used on the reverse side. They were quickly embraced by the public. Private banks went out of business

all the time, which made their money worthless afterward. But the value of greenbacks was guaranteed by the U.S. federal government. And because they were in such high demand, anyone who could make fake greenbacks stood to make a killing. But these greenbacks had much more intricate designs and lettering than regular banknotes, making them harder to get right. Keneally knew he'd need a top-notch engraver or people would never accept his counterfeits. So he was thrilled to learn about Ben Boyd. Keneally soon arranged to meet Boyd, and he realized that the youngster

was every bit as good as people claimed. He initiated Boyd into his ring, and before long, the duo fell into a lucrative routine, along with the help of an unlikely third accomplice who was able to slip by the law undetected. Imagine it's 1864, and you're a drugstore owner in Chicago. It's closing time, but you have no plans to leave. You're eyeing the door nervously,

wondering if the next person who walks through will be the contact you're meeting tonight. While you wait, you go through your accounting ledger, and it's grim. If things don't change soon, the bank could foreclose. So last week, you came up with a plan to shore up your finances by helping to distribute counterfeit money. It's a big risk, but if it works, you might be able to stay afloat. And tonight, you have your first meeting to put that plan into effect. You snap your head up from the ledger as the door opens,

but it's just a woman carrying a picnic basket. You try to hide your irritation. If she lingers here, it could interfere with your meeting. Still, she's a paying customer, and you need those, so you try to be polite. Can I help you, ma'am? Oh no, just browsing. Well, let me know if you need anything. You sigh and return to your ledger. It's already past 5 p.m. Where is your contact? After a few minutes, the woman saunters up to the counter. You close the ledger. Yes, how can I help you? Three ounces of tartar emetic and one bottle of milk of magnesia. Hearing those words nearly fall off your stool. I'm sorry, what? Three ounces of tartar emetic and one bottle of milk of magnesia. That's the code phrase you're waiting for. Your contact is

supposed to order exactly those items. You study the woman's face. Could this just be a coincidence? But she simply smiles back at you, shifting the picnic basket in her arms. You decide to continue the code. Oh, yes, ma'am, I have the magnesia, but the emetic is expensive. That's okay. My husband had a good week at the horse track. That completes the code exchange. You're not sure what's going on, but you hurry to lock the door before any other customers come in. Then you lead the woman into your supply room in the back. There she opens the picnic basket and pulls aside a blanket.

Beneath it are stacks of bills, fives, tens, twenties. She's your contact, all right. You breathe a sigh of relief. Well, ma'am, I have to admit I didn't expect a woman. She smiles and gives you a wink. They never do. And that's why we don't get caught. You're not afraid of walking around with all this fake money? I can take care of myself. Now here's your coney. She starts unloading it, stacking it on the table. You peel off a bill and study it. It's good. Very good.

Like all shop owners, you've learned the hard way to watch out for counterfeits. But you'd never suspect this bundle. Ma'am, are you sure this isn't real? It's as fake as the day is long. She finishes unloading the basket and hands you an envelope. And here's your fee. In cash. Care to guess if it's real? You feel your stomach turn. Is she serious? Before you can respond, in cash. Care to guess if it's real? You feel your stomach turn. Is she serious?

Before you can respond, she laughs and snaps the picnic basket shut and waltzes right out the door. The mystery woman delivering counterfeit cash was Ben Boyd's girlfriend, Allie Aikman. She was a key member of the Keneally-Boyd operation. Boyd crafted the plates to make the counterfeits, Big Jim made the deals to distribute it, and Allie delivered it all around Chicago, evading detection by carrying the bundles in a picnic basket. All three of them soon got very rich. From one single metal plate for a $50 bill,

they pocketed $265,000, the equivalent of several million today. But the good times didn't last. It's not clear who tipped off law enforcement, but one night in 1865, both Boyd and Allie were busted simultaneously. He was caught in his workshop, and she at a hotel with a picnic basket containing $30,000 in fake bills. Boyd was determined not to go back to prison and doubly determined that Allie would not go with him. So he managed to cut a deal. He won their freedom by turning over to the police his golden goose, the perfect $50 bill plate.

It had taken him over a year of careful work to make. But it was a close call, and the bus seemed to change Boyd. Chicago was simply too risky for his line of work. Too many cops around, and too many banks with sharp-eyed clerks who could spot even the good fakes. He decided he needed to go underground, to start moving from small town to small town where people had fewer suspicions. He could work in peace without worrying every day that he'd be arrested. But the run-in with the law also changed things between Boyd and his girlfriend, Allie.

Perhaps Boyd was terrified at the thought of being separated from her, or maybe he just wanted to do right. Regardless, after years of dating, they finally got married in 1865. Shortly after, they disappeared together. About the only person who did know their whereabouts was Big Jim Keneally. Boyd was far too valuable an asset to lose.

So no matter how expensive it got to move Boyd from town to town, Keneally always paid up. Keneally knew that without Boyd, his counterfeiting empire would crumble. Around the same time that Ben and Allie Boyd were getting married and going into hiding, the United States was undergoing dramatic changes of its own. The Civil War had shattered families, claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands of Americans, and ended slavery. Then, just days after the South surrendered, in April 1865, Confederate sympathizer John Wilkes Booth shocked the nation when he assassinated President Abraham Lincoln. After Lincoln's death, his adopted hometown of Springfield, Illinois, decided to build a monument to the fallen leader, a mausoleum to

house his body, along with a 120-foot obelisk above it as a memorial. Two years later, in 1867, a rumor started going around Springfield. A local lawyer had allegedly cooked up an outlandish scheme to steal Lincoln's remains, smuggle them to the Deep South, and demand a ransom for their return. Nothing ever came of the plot, with most people figuring the lawyer was just running his mouth. But this rumor spread, and one of the people who likely heard it was Big Jim Keneally, who visited Springfield often. He no doubt shook his head

and laughed like everyone else. Too busy running his counterfeiting empire to pay such a crazy scheme much mind. But the success of his counterfeiting empire relied entirely on the talents of his prized engraver, Van Boyd. And soon, a new federal agency would have Boyd in its sights. One man in particular was determined to hunt down Boyd at any cost

and bring Keneally's counterfeiting days to an end. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her. And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the internet is The Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses,

and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story of how I ended up in a race against time to warn those who lives were in danger. And it turns out,

convincing a total stranger someone wants them dead is not easy. Follow Kill List on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid

early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. Richard Bandler revolutionized the world of self-help all thanks to an approach he developed called neuro-linguistic programming. Even though NLP worked for some, its methods have been criticized for being dangerous in the wrong hands. Throw in Richard's dark past as a cocaine addict and murder suspect, and you can't help but

wonder what his true intentions were. I'm Sachi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee. And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. We recently dove into the story of the godfather of modern mental manipulation, Richard Bandler, whose methods inspired some of the most toxic and criminal self-help movements of the last two decades. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Scamfluencers and more Exhibit C true crime shows

like Morbid and Kill List early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. The United States federal government issued its first paper currency, the greenback, in July 1861. At first, it was a huge success. But just three years later, by 1864, roughly half of all paper money in circulation was fake.

There was so much counterfeit currency floating around that it threatened to undermine the American economy, and with it, the stability of the U.S. government. People were losing faith in the nation's currency, and the country was teetering on the brink of a financial crisis. To fight the flood of counterfeiting, the U.S. government founded the Secret Service in July 1865, just after the end of the Civil War. By the 1870s, the Secret Service was focusing on the Midwest, where counterfeiting was rampant. Patrick Tyrrell became a Secret Service agent in Chicago in early 1875. Born in Ireland, Tyrrell was 44 years old, a stocky but handsome man with wide shoulders, a cleft chin, and slick back brown hair. Tyrrell may have been new to the Secret Service in 1875, but his bosses did not ease him

into the job. One of his very first assignments was to go after the top counterfeit ring in Chicago, the Keenly Boyd Gang. He got assigned the case because he'd worked for years as a detective in Chicago and had good connections there. He also had a reputation for being incorruptible. He wanted to get the bad guys off the streets and clean up his adopted hometown. During his days walking the beat in Chicago, he'd seen too many good, hardworking business owners suffer from unscrupulous coney men. The scam the shopkeepers fell for started when one member of a counterfeiting gang, called the Shover, would duck into a store to buy a few random items.

He would pay with a single fake bill, receiving legitimate cash as change, then take the goods and leave. Outside, the shover would stroll down the block to a nearby alley or other covert spot, and there a young child, often a street urchin, would dart out and slip him a new fake bill. Then the shover walked on to the next shop to repeat the scam. The shopkeepers who fell victim to shovers were mostly out of luck. Most banks could spot and would reject counterfeit bills, making them worthless to any legitimate business. And store owners not only lost the goods they sold to the counterfeiter, but the legitimate cash they handed out as change.

But sometimes a suspicious shopkeeper would catch the fake bills. At that point, the shover had to turn into an actor. He'd stammer and apologize, saying he had no idea where the bad bill had came from. Given how much fake cash was floating around, this was often believable. The possibility of getting caught also explained while the shover carried just one fake bill at a time. Explaining away a single counterfeit bill was easy. Coming up with an excuse for a stack of them was much harder. But even when the police arrested and convicted a shover, it did a little good. There were always a dozen other lowlifes willing to step in.

Arresting low-level foot soldiers and the Coney game never stopped the problem, or even slowed it. That's why the Secret Service ordered Patrick Tyrrell to go after Ben Boyd and Big Jim Keneally. They were the generals, the top targets. To stop counterfeiting, the Secret Service needed to stop the crime at the source. Of the two, Keneally was the bigger fish. But the counterfeiting crisis was so acute that Tyrrell decided to go after Boyd the engraver first first to quickly close

the spigot of counterfeit cash. He started asking around about Boyd, working his connections, but no one seemed to know where to find him. He was always in another state somewhere. Tyrell realized he needed to get creative, so he took a trip to Boyd's hometown of Cincinnati, hoping to turn the counterfeiters' past partners in crime against him. Imagine it's 1875 in Cincinnati. You're a secret service agent working undercover, and tonight a lead has brought you to a local saloon. It's dingy in here. Your feet stick to the floor, and it reeks of stale whiskey. You saunter up to the bar and pretend to examine the bottles. In reality, you're gazing in the mirror behind the bar,

trying not to make it obvious you're looking for someone. Then you spot your man, a weak-chinned fellow with long, stringy brown hair, sitting alone at a table in the corner. You don't drink much, but you order a finger of whiskey to fit in. You pay with a quarter, and then make your way over to the man at the table. Hey, you look like a guy I went to school with. What's your name? The weak-chin man barely glances at you.

James Larson. Ah, his name was Larson too, but Robert Larson. Maybe your cousins. How do you spell Larson? S-O-N or S-E-N? S-O-N. Oh, he was in S-E-N. Anyways, what line of work are you in? The man looks annoyed. Plumbing. I could use a good plumber. He said it's James Larson, right? S-E-N? That's right. That's funny because before you said S-O-N. The man freezes like a rabbit. Knowing you have him now, you pull out a chair and sit. And that's peculiar.

You have to ask yourself, why would a man not know how to spell his own name? Probably because it's not his name. In fact, the more I think about it, you don't remind me of Robert Larson at all. You remind me of Nat Kinsey. Kinsey's eyes flash wide at this, and his voice drops to almost a whisper. Who are you? How do you know my name? Oh, I know a lot.

I also know you're not a plumber. You're a two-bit counterfeiter. You used to run around with a fellow named Ben Boyd. You watched Kinsey's features harden to a sneer. Yeah, maybe I did. Until he ditched me for Chicago. Betrayed you, huh? You could say that.

You play with your drink, letting Kinsey seethe. Now that you've sat with him for a while, you've been able to size him up. Patched up coat, worn out shoes. He looks down on his luck, which is perfect. Well, maybe we can help each other out, Nat. I'm actually looking for Boyd. You a cop? Because I don't work with cops.

You nod, having expected this. So you reach into your pocket and pull out a $10 bill holding in front of him. Kinsey practically drools at the sight of it. No, no, no, I just want information. Why don't you put out some feelers? Say you're itching to get back in the game. Find out what Boyd is up to.

But Kinsey still looks wary. It's worth more than ten bucks. How much do I really get? Depends on how useful the information is. I give bonuses, you know, for extra effort. You hold out the bill, and Kinsey tries to take it. But you keep it in your grasp and pull Kinsey towards you. No, no, no, no. For this, I want a letter every week, and no funny business. Then you let the bill go, and Kinsey toward you. No, no, no, no. For this, I want a letter every week and no funny business. Then you let the bill go and Kinsey falls back in his chair. You hand him a business card with your address and rise and head for the door.

You've got a few other old acquaintances of Ben Boyd to speak to before you head back to Chicago. During his visit to Cincinnati, Patrick Tyrrell convinced Nat Kinsey to help hunt down his former partner, Ben Boyd. Despite Kinsey's initial reluctance to work with cops, he turned out to be a great informant. Just as Tyrrell suggested, Kinsey put out feelers that he wanted to get back in the game and resume work with Boyd. But tracking down his old partner in crime wasn't easy. Boyd was paranoid and constantly on the move, jumping from city to city and state to state. But Kinsey persisted and started to hear clues as to Boyd's whereabouts. Tyrell pursued every tip he got from Kinsey, but he was exhausting and frustrating work. Boyd seemed to be one step ahead of him at every turn.

Kinsey might hear that Boyd had been in Wisconsin recently under a fake name, but by the time Tyrrell got there to investigate, Boyd had long ago skipped town. Then he might surface in Michigan, Iowa, or Missouri, only to vanish again just before Tyrrell arrived. In all, Tyrrell spent six grueling months on the road. He barely saw his wife or children back in Chicago. The constant travel left him exhausted, and worst of all, he was no closer to catching up to Boyd. Finally, though, Tyrell got a break, and it was Nat Kinsey who gave it to him.

Kinsey still felt that Boyd had betrayed him. He had taught the young engraver everything he knew about the counterfeiting business, and Boyd had taken all that knowledge and run off to Chicago to get rich with Big Jim Keneally, leaving Kinsey behind. Kinsey wanted revenge, and he got his chance. In late 1875, Kinsey finally hunted down Boyd's location. He was in the tiny town of Fulton, Illinois, right on the Mississippi River near the Iowa border. This time, instead of tipping off Patrick Tyrrell right away, Kinsey went to visit Boyd himself and convinced his former partner to team up again. How Kinsey got Boyd's trust is not known. Perhaps Boyd and his paranoia just wanted to partner up with someone he knew from his past, but he apparently had no idea how betrayed Kinsey felt.

Once Kinsey had re-established his partnership with Boyd, he sent word to Patrick Tyrrell. Tyrrell arrived in Folsom and secretly met with Kinsey in a hotel room on the night of October 20, 1875. Kinsey informed him that the Boyds were living under fake names, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. They'd rented a house and put up thick curtains to prevent the neighbors from snooping. But even though Tyrell now knew Boyd's

exact location, it would be no easy bust. He wanted to catch Boyd actively working on a new counterfeit plate. If someone was simply found in possession of counterfeit cash, they wouldn't serve much time in jail. But if someone was found making an engraved plate to produce counterfeits, that carried a much harsher penalty, several years in prison. Kinsey assured Tyrrell that Boyd was indeed making a new plate. Now they just needed to catch him in the act. Kinsey planned to visit the Boyds the very next day at 9 a.m., and Tyrrell saw his chance. He would wait for Kinsey's signal and launch a raid, catching the counterfeiter red-handed.

I'm Tristan Redman, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts. But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up, I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened in my childhood bedroom. When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept in my room after me, someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman. So I started digging into the murder in my wife's family, and I unearthed family secrets nobody could have imagined. Ghost Story won Best Documentary Podcast at the 2024 Ambys and is a Best True Crime nominee at the British Podcast Awards 2024. Ghost Story is now the first ever

Apple Podcast Series Essential. Each month, Apple Podcast editors spotlight one series that has captivated listeners with masterful storytelling, creative excellence, and a unique creative voice and vision. To recognize Ghost Story being chosen as the first series essential, Wondery has made it ad-free for a limited time, only on Apple Podcasts. If you haven't listened yet, head over to Apple Podcasts to hear for yourself. In November 1991, media tycoon Robert Maxwell mysteriously vanished from his luxury yacht in the Canary Islands. But it wasn't just his body that would come to the surface in the days that followed. It soon emerged that Robert's business was on the brink of collapse, and behind his facade of wealth and success was a litany of bad investments, mounting debt, and multi-million dollar fraud. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery Show

Business Movers. We tell the true stories of business leaders who risked it all, the critical moments that defined their journey, and the ideas that transform the way we live our lives. In our latest series, a young refugee fleeing the Nazis arrives in Britain determined to make something of his life. Taking the name Robert Maxwell, he builds a publishing and newspaper empire that spans the globe. But ambition eventually curdles into desperation,

and Robert's determination to succeed turns into a willingness to do anything to get ahead. Follow Business Movers wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Imagine it's October 21st, 1875, in Fulton, Illinois. You're a secret service agent, accompanying Patrick Tyrrell on an important case. You're standing across the street from a white, two-story house with thick green curtains over the windows. And if all goes well in just a few minutes, you're going to raid that home and arrest Ben and Allie Boyd, two of the nation's most notorious counterfeiters.

As you check your gun and badge one last time, you stifle a yawn. This raid came together so last minute, you had to take an overnight train down here from Chicago. You barely slept a wink. But Tyrrell is practically vibrating with excitement. This is the biggest raid of his young career. All right, you, cover the front yard in case they run for it. And you, come with me. We'll sneak around the back door. Despite your exhaustion, you feel a jolt of adrenaline. It's just now hitting you that you're about to take down two of the most wanted criminals in the country. You really sure Kenzie's inside? He should be. You know, for a shifty counterfeiter, he's amazingly reliable. You settle in to wait. Tyrell has made it clear that the raid can't start until he gets a signal from an informant inside the house.

You, Tyrell, and the other agent wait. A minute passes, then another. The wind kicks up and you shiver against the cold mid-October air. But then you notice something. Hey, look up there, the window. Up at a second-story window, the thick green curtains have parted a few inches. A hand appears and gives a quick wave before darting back inside. Tyrell springs into motion.

That's the signal. Let's move. Let's move. You stride across the street a step behind Tyrell. He reaches the low, wrought-iron fence that surrounds the yard and flips open the gate. You're halfway around the side of the house when you hear a sudden commotion. It's a horse and wagon careening down the narrow residential street. They're coming toward you so fast that you stop in your tracks to look.

The wagon screeches to a halt in front of the house. The driver, a wild-eyed young man, calls out in a loud voice, Does B.F. Wilson live here? Then, as suddenly as it arrived, the wagon takes off again, disappearing down the street. You stare, dumbfounded. What the hell was all that about? But Tyrell looks furious.

Damn it! What? The cover's blown. We can't wait any longer. Watch the back door. I'm going in. Tyrell turns and takes off. You're a little slow reacting,

a few steps behind. But you pull outrell turns and takes off. You're a little slow reacting, a few steps behind, but you pull out your gun and sprint off, following Tyrell toward the back of the house, hoping this raid isn't over before it's even started. On the morning of October 21st, 1875, Patrick Tyrell and two other Secret Service agents were preparing to raid Bannon Alley Boyd's house, but Boyd had planted spies all around the neighborhood to protect himself in case the authorities came calling. So with the element of surprise lost, Tyrrell had no choice but to charge into the house, hoping the less experienced agents with him would cover the exits. At the back door,

Tyrrell was nearly bowled over by Nat Kinsey, who barreled through and took off sprinting like his life was at stake. Tyrell entered the kitchen and went up the stairs. But before he reached them, Allie Boyd leapt out of a corner. She jumped on his back and began choking him with his own collar, screaming. Tyrell was completely taken by surprise and nearly lost the fight. Allie was no stranger to the rough and tumble. But with the help of a second agent, he managed to wrestle Allie to the ground. As soon as they had her under control, Tyrell went up the stairs. He took the first several two at a time and stopped dead in his tracks.

Waiting at the top, glaring down at him, was Ben Boyd. Tyrell pulled out his pistol and told Boyd he was under arrest. When Boyd heard the agent's name, his round face wrinkled with disgust. He knew exactly who Tyrell was and was certain he had still been one step ahead of him. Gun drawn, Tyrell continued up the stairs and handcuffed Boyd. Then he headed for Boyd's workshop, hoping to find evidence, even if only a scrap or two that he could use to send the counterfeiter to prison. But from his first step inside, Tyrell's eyes went wide. Boyd had been tipped off by the wagon driver, but he didn't have enough time to hide everything. There was a sturdy table scattered with engraving tools and whole crates of other tools on the

floor. There was also a $20 bill on the table with a metal plate right next to it. Tyrrell lifted the plate. Carved into it was a half-finished etching for a fake $20 bill. The raid was a success. He caught Boyd in the act. Tyrrell's arrest of Ben Boyd was a huge win for the Secret Service. They'd taken down the top counterfeiter in the country, and in so doing, they also dealt a huge blow to Big Jim Keneally, who'd lost his master engraver. With Boyd locked up, Keneally's counterfeiting empire crumbled. High-quality counterfeit cash could sell up to 50% of its face value, and no one made better fakes than Ben Boyd. Keneally tried other engravers, but they were sloppy and unreliable. So instead of

bills that fetched half of face value, Keneally had counterfeits that went for only 20%, or even as little as 10%. It was a rough spot to be in, and Keneally was desperate. He tried bribing Boyd's jailers to let him escape, but they refused, and Ben and Allie Boyd both appeared in court in January 1876. There, the judge ruled rather oddly that it was Allie Boyd's wifely duty to help cover up her husband's crimes. He proclaimed her innocent of wrongdoing and let her go. Ben Boyd wasn't so lucky. He was sentenced to ten years. With Boyd behind bars, Keneally got truly desperate. He was now barely eking out an income, stuck with engravers whose best fake bills were worth a fraction of Boyd behind bars, Keneally got truly desperate. He was now barely eking out an income, stuck with engravers whose best fake bills were worth a fraction of Boyd's. To save his empire, he needed

to free his master counterfeit artist. So he came up with an audacious plan. He wasn't going to break Boyd out of jail. Instead, he was going to steal Abraham Lincoln's body. The inspiration for Keneally's plan remains obscure, but he had plenty of reasons to choose the scheme. Grave robbing was rampant in America at the time. Gangs of thugs called resurrectionists would often break into graveyards at night to steal freshly buried bodies and sell them to medical schools who used them to train students.

It was a grisly but lucrative business. So while Lincoln would be an exceptionally famous target, the crime of grave robbing itself wasn't that unusual. Keenly also probably remembered the lawyer who proposed stealing Lincoln's remains back in 1867. Presumably, that lawyer didn't have the skills or connections to pull the heist off, but Keneally did. Big Jim's plan was to take the president's body

and rebury it several miles away near a river. He was sure the missing body would garner big headlines and be a huge embarrassment to local officials. They'd be desperate to get Lincoln back. So a month or two later, Keneally would visit the river where Lincoln's body was reburied, pretending to be on a fishing trip.

Then he just happened to discover it, a to be on a fishing trip. Then he just happened to discover it. A lucky coincidence, he'd say. Keneally would go to the police and offer to reveal the location of the body on one condition. Ben Boyd must be released from jail. It would be Lincoln's dead body in exchange for Boyd's live one. Keneally had no illusions that the police would actually believe he'd just stumbled upon the body of Abraham Lincoln. But he had that covered too. He himself would not be part of the gang that robbed the tomb. Instead, he'd be in St. Louis that night,

and he would make sure to be seen publicly by several people who could provide an alibi. The police could doubt him all they want, but they wouldn't be able to poke a hole in his story. So over the next few months, Keneally revised the plan a few times, changing certain details, eventually deciding to ask for $200,000 in addition to Boyd's release. But the core of the plan never changed. And the more Keneally thought it through, the more it seemed like it would work. It was certainly audacious, but in some ways that was an asset. It was so improbable that no one would ever think to guard against it. All he needed now was a crew to pull off the

robbery. Luckily, he had the perfect bunch of hardened criminals in mind. From Wondery, this is episode one of the plot to steal Lincoln's body from American History Tellers. On the next episode, Big Jim Keneally gets his gang together to rob Lincoln's tomb. And when Secret Service Agent Patrick Tyrrell discovers that Big Jim is up to more than just counterfeiting, he realizes he needs to stop the plot at all costs. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.

If you'd like to learn more about this story, we recommend Lincoln's Grave Robbers by Steve Schenken and Stealing Lincoln's Body by Thomas Crawwell. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens. Music by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by Sam Kean, edited by Dorian Marina. Our senior producer is Andy Herman. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marsha Louis for Wondery. today. Who created that bottle of red sriracha with a green top that's permanently living in your fridge? Did you know that the Air Jordans were initially banned by the NBA? We'll explore all that and more in The Best Idea Yet,

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