The Case of Room 1046 Remains Unsolved 90 Years Later

On January 2, 1935, 19-year-old Artemus Ogletree checked into room 1046 at the opulent President Hotel in Kansas City, Mo., using the fake name of Roland T. Owen.

He was neatly dressed in a black overcoat and traveling light with only a black hair brush, comb and a tube of toothpaste as a young bellman escorted him to his room on the 10th floor. The hotel was located in a prime, downtown spot, where the nightclub scene was popular and organized crime ran amok. The two made small talk and parted ways. 

Two days later, the same bellman found Ogletree bound, bloodied, naked and clinging to life in room 1046. He appeared to have been tortured and beaten to the brink of death. Ogletree died at a hospital and authorities ruled the death a homicide, but no one has ever been charged with his murder. 

“The older the case, the harder it is to solve,” cold case expert and retired Naval Criminal Investigative Service special agent Joe Kennedy tells A&E Crime + Investigation. “Even if we figured out who did it, justice really wouldn't be served, other than we might give the family some resolution.”

Between the time he checked-in and when he was found, Ogletree had some weird interactions with hotel staff, according to Kansas City police reports obtained by Kansas City Magazine. 

A maid named Mary Soptio told investigators that although Ogletree was polite, she had a few odd exchanges with him as she cleaned his room. She remembered that he kept the window shades closed and the room dimly lit. 

He told her, “Don't lock my door, for I am expecting a friend in a few minutes,” she remembered. Judging from the look on his face and his body language, Soptio surmised “that he was either worried about something or afraid,” according to the police reports about the crime. 

A guest staying in the room next to Ogletree’s said she heard men and women “talking loudly and cursing” one night, Kansas City Magazine reported. An elevator operator told authorities he escorted a prostitute to the 10th floor, although it's unclear if she visited the victim’s room.

On the morning of January 4, a bellman let himself into Ogletree’s room because the room’s phone had been repeatedly left off the hook. He discovered that Ogletree was barely alive and saw signs that the guest had been tortured and left in the tub, tied at the neck, wrists and ankles. He was naked and bloodied. 

Ogletree had been stabbed, strangled and brutally beaten. According to police, there were blood spatters on the room’s walls, bed and in its bathroom. Ogletree denied his fatal injuries were from a suicide attempt, but also stated no one else was responsible, in one of his final conversations with a doctor and detective, The San Francisco Examiner reported in 1935. Ogletree later died at the hospital. 

“At first glance, it would be difficult to say that this guy did all this stuff to himself,” Kennedy says. “Is it possible? Yes. Is it probable? Probably not.”

Kennedy points out that “there's multiple agents of death” in Ogletree's case, alluding to the skull fractures and multiple stab wounds suffered by the victim.

“That could indicate crime scene staging," he continues. "Oftentimes, we see anger in a crime scene, and anger is when you have a lot of splashing and tearing of the victim, and there's an escalation of assaulted behavior. I don't read any remorse at this scene.”

Given the gruesome crime scene details, Kennedy speculates it was a crime of passion, and that Ogletree’s killer knew him. 

“I feel pretty confident there is a relationship in this,” he says, adding that, because Ogletree was found naked, “there's a potential sexual component in this.”

Whoever it was got away. 

Investigators also learned Roland T. Owen didn’t exist. It would take another nearly two years to positively identify the victim as Ogletree, after his mother, Ruby Ogletree of Birmingham, Ala., saw his picture in the paper. She told police her son was 19 when left home in April 1934, and he arrived in Kansas City in August, according to KTVI-TV.

Eleven weeks after Ogletree's death, police announced their plans to bury him in a pauper’s grave, prompting a mysterious phone call to detectives from an anonymous person. 

“Bury him in Memorial Park Cemetery. I’ll pay for it,” the caller stated, police said, according to newspaper clippings from the time. The person also cryptically said, “Owen hadn’t played the game fair and cheaters usually get what’s coming to them."

Two days later, Ogletree’s burial was paid for and 13 roses were delivered to the funeral with a card that read: “Love for ever, Louise.”

Police were unable to trace the money and flowers to determine who paid for the cemetery plot or the flowers.

However, Kennedy doubts that solving the mystery of who wanted Ogletree buried in a respectful way would help to identify who killed him.

“People do strange things after people die, so I'm not surprised at all,” Kennedy explains. “You've got to follow the evidence, timelines and the witnesses, and not get distracted by what happened afterwards, because weird things happen after people get murdered that have no bearing on the case.”

Kennedy says the case may never be solved.

“These old cases are very difficult because the physical evidence has been lost or thrown out, and a lot of times, witnesses have passed away,” Kennedy says. “So, you're not going to successfully hold anybody accountable.”