1931 Murder Filled with Bizarre Twists
Part One of Two Parts
Submitted by Al Shipley, City Historian and Rahway Library Research Consultant
During the height of the Great Depression, Rahway and Union County officials were confronted with a murder case that would take their investigation from New York to North Carolina. In the end, they would discover that as the murderer was making his escape through six states, he had his victim’s body in the back seat of his car. The events of this true story of the murder of Pheobe Stader by her illicit lover, William Frazer, began after midnight in the early hours of Wednesday, February 18, 1931.
Pheobe Stader was a 33-year-old married woman who had much on her mind and needed time to think about her future. She was not happy with her eight-year marriage to husband Phillip, and her two-year secret romance with 31-year-old William Frazer was becoming an item of city gossip. She decided it might be good to “get away” for a while so she left her Rahway home on Monday, the 16thof February to spend time with her sister who lived in the rural town of Walden, New York. A day later, William Frazer – himself a married man and father of two daughters – followed Stader to Walden fearing she was trying to put an end to their relationship.
By Tuesday evening, he was able to persuade Pheobe to leave with him, and late that night, the two stopped on a secluded hilltop a few miles from Walden. Sitting in Frazer’s brown Buick sedan, the lovers contemplated their situation while sharing a bottle of applejack, a popular brandy of the day. When they had met in 1929, Frazer had just received an inheritance of $25,000 after the death of his father. He spent it lavishly on Pheobe until it was completely used up, giving him suspicions that without money Pheobe would lose interest in him. As they talked and drank, Pheobe pledged her love to him, promised to get a divorce, and looked forward to starting a new life. Frazer, with the liquor slowly taking hold, had become morose and unconvinced, and in a teary-eyed outburst uttered, “Now that my inheritance is gone, you’re through with me. You came up here just to get away from me.”
Frazer’s depression increased as he drank more, even as Pheobe promised to run off with him to Florida. Her words did nothing to ease his worst thoughts. Completely despondent in his drunken stupor, he said he needed air and opened his door, stepped out, and went to the back seat. Reaching behind the seat he pulled out a .22 caliber rifle. When he returned to the driver’s door, Pheobe was leaning over looking down to fix her stocking. A loud blast shattered the stillness of the night.
Frazer froze as he saw Pheobe slump in her seat, her head resting against the side window. Blood from a wound in the back of her head was flowing down her neck and onto her clothes. Not fully understanding what had just happened, he gently shook the still body and said softly and haltingly, “I didn’t mean to do it. I still love you.” He touched her breast and felt the faint beat of her heart. She was still alive!
In a panic, Frazer started the Buick, sped down the country road to the main highway and headed for Rahway. He covered the 89 miles in a daze as he raced along the mostly deserted roadways. When he reached Elizabeth, he stopped and composed himself enough to again check Pheobe’s pulse. This time there was nothing. She was dead.
The sun was just rising by the time Frazer reached his mother’s East Cherry Street home. He entered the home quietly to avoid waking his mother and went to the second-floor bedroom where his 21-year-old cousin, Ira, was asleep. Frazer roused him roughly and said, “I’m in a terrible mess. Pheobe is out in the car. She’s dead.” The startled cousin replied, “Pheobe Stader dead! How did it happen?” Frazer cut him off. “Stop asking a lot of questions and get up and come outside with me.” When they got to the car, he told Ira to get in the back. Ira asked, “Where are we going.” Frazer’s answer stunned him. “I’m going to tell my wife.”
Everyone was still asleep when he entered his Jefferson Avenue home. He woke his wife, Hilda, and with little emotion told her what had happened. Hilda, being a stereotypically faithful wife of the time, realized her husband needed her more at this time than ever before. She believed he had weaknesses that led him to his troubles and implored him, “You’ve got to give yourself up.”
“I can’t do that. I just can’t,” he protested firmly. They argued for an hour as Hilda pleaded and begged, but Frazer refused to budge and with nothing more to say, he left. At the car, he lifted Pheobe’s limp body, placed it in the back, and returned to Cherry Street with Ira sitting in Pheobe’s blood covered front seat.
After arriving at the house, Ira was sent in to get a blanket to cover the body. Frazer then parked the car around the corner on Campbell Street, locked the doors, returned to his mother’s house, and went to bed.
The next morning, Frazer gathered some belongings and packed his car. He then brought Pheobe’s pocketbook into the house, removed her money, and set it ablaze in the basement furnace. Finally, he left a note for Ira directing him to meet him in Raleigh, North Carolina at the Sir Walter Hotel on Friday the 20th and to bring $200.00 which he could get from his mother. He would be registered under the alias H. G. Devlin.
Frazer was off to Florida with Pheobe’s cold corpse in the back seat, but now, not quite the way they had planned.
Next month – Part Two – Capture, Trial, Conclusion
