Judd had gone to a great deal of trouble to set up an alibi.  As a traveling salesman, he was in and out of hotels and cities all the time.  He had slipped his hotel room key to a longtime friend of his, Haddon Gray (no relation) and told Haddon to go into his room and rumple the bed to make it look slept in.  As Leslie Margolin wrote in Murderess!, “He told Haddon he needed cover for a dinner engagement with Ruth Snyder in Albany, and that he probably would not be back that night.  While Haddon was in Judd’s room, he was supposed to telephone down to the desk, identify himself as Judd Gray, and tell the operator that he did not feel well and did not wish to be disturbed.  Haddon was also supposed to mail some letters Judd had given him and place a do not disturb sign on his doorknob.”

Despite these preparations, Judd bungled his getaway.  He made himself strangely conspicuous.  Waiting at the bus stop, the murderer struck up a conversation with an elderly man.  Judd observed a police officer shooting at a row of beer bottles and jokingly remarked, “I would hate like hell to stand in front of him and have him shoot me.”  Then he topped that blunder by shouting, “I wouldn’t want you shooting at me!”

After departing the bus at the Jamaica station, he hailed a taxi and asked the driver to take him to Manhattan.  Gray left a nickel tip, causing the cab driver to look hard at the man in his rear view mirror.

The conductor and porter on the New York Central both noticed him because he told them that he wanted to ride the Pullman ticket to Albany and then ride in coach to Syracuse.

Back at the Snyder house, Lorraine Snyder was comfortably asleep in her bed when she was awakened by a series of knocks on her bedroom door.  The child opened her eyes, blinking, into the morning.

Then she heard urgent but strangely muffled words in what was unmistakably her mother’s voice.  “Lorraine,” Ruth said, “Lorraine, come quick!”

The pajama clad youngster jumped out of her bed and rushed to the source of the noises.  She could hardly believe her eyes. Her mother was on the floor, helpless and bound with cord.  Her face was white as chalk and her eyes wide with terror.  Her father lay on the bed, his bloody arm protruding from under a sheet.

Lorraine threw on a bathrobe and headed to a neighbor’s home. Shivering more from fright than the cool morning hair, she banged on the door until Mr. and Mrs. Mulhauser answered.  Through chattering teeth, the little girl told how somebody had killed her daddy and her mommy was bound up with ropes.

The Mulhausers headed to the Snyder home where they found things much as the child had described.  The couple freed Ruth from her bindings.  The dazed woman found a chair and the Mulhausers phoned the police.

When the police arrived, they found a scene of utter chaos.  Cushions had been tossed hither and yon, drawers pulled out and left open, and the curtains torn down.  Police realized one thing immediately: this was not what a burglary really looked like.

The pretty, blonde woman whose husband had been murdered was only semi-coherent.  However, they were able to piece together a tale from the fragments that babbled out of her mouth.  She and her husband had come home from a party and they had been assaulted by two men who “looked Italian.”  The men had beat on her husband’s head.  “My jewelry!” she cried.  “They took my jewelry.”

One police officer questioned Ruth while others looked about for clues.  They easily found one: a scrap of Italian newspaper in the bed where the murdered man lay.  But like the furniture scattered for no reason, it was fishy.  They also found the “stolen” jewelry under the mattress.

Officer Arthur Carey began looking through Mrs. Snyder’s bankbook.  He found a $200 check made out to one Judd Gray.  His name was also in her phone book.  They found a pin with {J. G}. for Jessie Guishard and thought it was Judd Gray’s.  Mail arrived and with it a letter from Judd that had been posted in Syracuse.  It was a jaunty note that began, “Hello, Momma!  How the dickens are you this bright beautiful day . . . “

They asked the new widow to come down to headquarters for questioning.  A police officer asked, “What about Judd Gray?”

“Has he confessed?” a startled Ruth asked.

The police assured her that they had not yet even  found Gray for questioning.

Carey consulted with the District Attorney, then had both Ruth Snyder and Judd Gray arrested for first-degree murder.  In their confessions, each pinned as much blame on the other as possible.