Today I would like to explore a very cold case – cold, as in frozen, with no hopes of ever thawing. It would take a miracle to come to any conclusions on this one. This case is dead in the water, no pun intended. So much time has elapsed with no leads but it’s still fun to come up with theories, nevertheless. I’m talking about the strange disappearance of socialite Dorothy Arnold. Strange, indeed. Yes, the world is a strange place where you can turn a corner and vanish off the face of the earth.
Dorothy Harriett Camille Arnold was born into a very wealthy New York family in 1884. When she disappeared into thin New York air at just 25 years old she had a whole privileged life ahead of her.
It was December 12, 1910, the height of the festive season in New York. Ms. Arnold had money to burn and was headed to town to buy a new ball gown for her sister’s “coming out” party. Her semi-invalid mother asked her if she wanted any company but she said “no” and that she didn’t want to trouble her. That morning, Dorothy walked out of her parent’s New York mansion with the clothes on her back, $25, which was a tidy sum back then, and a large muff. She cheerfully headed downtown to spend money. What female doesn’t?
A clerk at Park and Tilford’s who knew her remembered selling her a box of chocolates on family credit at 1:45pm and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Afterwards, she headed an incredible 32 blocks over to Brentano’s Bookstore on 5th Avenue and 27th Street where she bought a book also on family credit(must be nice). After walking out of the bookstore, Dorothy happened to run into a friend, Gladys King, who had gotten an invitation to her sister Marjorie’s debutante party. They chatted for a few minutes and Dorothy mentioned she was going to walk through Central Park. Gladys happened to have the RSVP on hand so she handed it to Dorothy and they said goodbye. Dorothy rounded the corner and vanished into oblivion along with poor Ms. King’s RSVP. How does such a familiar face vanish on a busy street in a place like New York, New York? It would be like Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian shopping on Rodeo Dr. and evaporating on the sidewalk. Miracles happen everyday so I live in hope.
When supper time rolled around and Dorothy hadn’t made it back, her parents started contacting friends, thinking maybe she was staying over like she had before. It was unlike her to not call if she wouldn’t be home. Despite frantic searching, it all came to nothing. Strangely enough, the socially mobile, image conscious Arnolds did not call the police. Instead, they hired family friend John S. Keith who found nothing and they spent tons of money using the services of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, neither of which were successful. After 6 weeks, the Arnolds finally contacted the police.
One thing that was discovered was that she had secretly been engaged to a man Dorothy’s parents disapproved of. George Griscom, Jr. was a pudgy 44 year old engineer from Pittsburgh still living with his parents, a real dreamboat. Back in the summer, the couple had spent a week shacked up in a motel unbeknownst to her parents. She had told them she was visiting a female friend from college. Dorothy ended up pawning $500 of her jewelry to cover the hotel bill. Looks like she got tangled up with a real winner. After being tracked down by Journalist while in Italy with his parents, he sent a telegram that he had no idea where Dorothy was. Despite Mama Arnold being a shut-in, she and her son flew to Naples to lean on the man to reveal Dorothy’s whereabouts. All he could do was produce some letters she had written him where she states, “All that I can see ahead is a long road with no turning.” This can be interpreted in many ways.
George indicated that she could have committed suicide because of her failure as a writer. She felt she had been mocked by her parents after telling them she wanted to become a writer and she had gotten rejection letters from publishing houses. Would she really kill herself over a few rejection letters? Hopefully not. A few of her friends shared the belief that she was so depressed that she killed herself because George was a cold fish and wouldn’t marry her. And who wouldn’t wanna hold on to that Adonis?
Many theories abound to this day. Her father was sure she was attacked and murdered in Central Park, which, strangely, he preferred to her eloping with George. He thought her body was at the bottom of a lake, but the they had all been frozen over, making that unlikely. When the lakes thawed, they were dragged anyways and nothing was found.
Some say she slipped on the icy ground, hit her head and got amnesia. Hospitals and morgues were searched but nothing turned up. Ships were searched in case she actually did disappear on her own accord. One theory that refuses to die, again, no pun intended, is that she died during a botched abortion, which happened a lot in those days. One theory has the Arnolds sending pregnant Dorothy to Switzerland in disgrace but there was no basis for this.
As any parent would do, the Arnolds spent $100,000 and exhausted every resource trying to locate their daughter. They died in the 20′s not knowing anything, no doubt, brokenhearted.
An unexpected twist came. A Rhode Island convict said he was paid by a nameless man that fit George’s description, to dig a grave for a dead heiress and that she was buried in a West Point cellar after a botched abortion. Police dug up cellars in the area but it turned out to be a wild goose chase. No corpse surfaced. Dorothy never turned up there or anywhere ever again.
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