Dan's Papers - June 20, 2008

As cotton-ball clouds darkened overhead on his way back from a walk to the beach, Doug Brown decided to hitchhike home. "Hey, thanks so much," said Brown to a car paused at the side of the road, "Can you take me to 205 Dune Road?" The gray gauze above cast long shadows on the beach. The storm was moving in at a ferocious pace. "Oh, you want to go to the Murder House?" the driver replied. The word stuck in Brown's throat like fish bones. "The...Murder House?" He cast his eyes down the road as thunder echoed in his head. The cracking sound could have been mistaken for a gunshot.

The sweetest cottage the Hamptons has to offer is rooted at 205 Dune Road in Quogue. With heart-carved shutters and an Italian mason-crafted stone chimney, the cottage appears to be something from a fairytale. However, the 'Honeymoon Cottage,' as locals have termed it, hides a macabre history beneath the enchanting facade.

Built in the late 1920s/early '30s by Everett Overton and his family, the cottage was constructed before beach houses were popular. It was not long after its construction that the little house was rented out to various individuals. While many characters passed through its single wooden door, the most interesting residents occupied the cottage in 1932, when Mr. and Mrs. Victor and Mitzie Downs lived there.

Mr. Downs was a former North Fork policeman and Mrs. Downs was experiencing some problems with her feet. After realizing that she had some serious foot issues, Mrs. Downs phoned Frank Tuthill, an eccentric 68-year-old East End native, who was also called the "corn doctor." Known for his ability to remove corns from the feet, the local residents of Quogue often called on Tuthill for their podiatry needs. Tuthill was an interesting character. "He used to carry two pistols and a bundle of cash," said Elizabeth Overton, Everett's daughter-in-law, "It's been said that he used to throw his cash on the floor, and when people stopped to pick it up, he would take out his revolver and threaten them."

Tuthill made an appointment to tend to Mrs. Downs at her cottage on 205 Dune Road on August 6, 1932. On the night of the appointment, a paranoid Tuthill told his landlady, Mrs. Fillmore Dayton, to call the police if he did not return that night. Whether it was a premonition or an instinctual feeling, no one can say, but Tuthill did not come home that night - or the next, or the night after that. Two weeks later, his body was discovered. An August 22, 1932 article in The New York Times reported that Tuthill's body "had been riddled with bullets, and he is believed to have been murdered and robbed of about $5,000 which he is supposed to have carried." Tuthill's body was found sprawled on the floor of his own car behind the ruins of the old Shinnecock Casino. An autopsy revealed that his skull was fractured, indicating that someone struck him numerous times on the head, and that six bullets penetrated his stomach.

What happened in the cottage? Mrs. Downs made a statement to the police explaining the chain of events. Mr. and Mrs. Downs, who intended on robbing Tuthill, invited him to the house on August 5. The night that Tuthill arrived, Mr. Downs was not home. Therefore, Tuthill left the house unharmed. Mrs. Downs invited the doctor over the next night. Tuthill came into the house while Mr. Downs was drinking heavily. Mrs. Downs entered the cottage and heard scuffling in the living room. She looked around the room to find her husband and Tuthill with revolvers drawn. Mr. Downs won the altercation, hit Tuthill over the head and then shot him repeatedly.

While most stories are linear, this one is fragmented. "Mr. Downs told his wife that he would drive the corn doctor's body in his own car into the woods," recounted Mrs. Overton, "and then he would hitchhike back to the cottage." But an August 21, 1932 article in The New York Times claimed that, "A frayed rope end extending from the front axle indicated that the car had been towed to the spot." While one New York Times article claims that Jack Brislin and Matt Hayes found Tuthill's body, another article states that Robert Story Jr. stumbled upon the doctor's remains.

Without a factual account, the Downs case fluctuated. The police didn't even know the real story. After hearing Mrs. Downs' account of events, Mr. Downs was arrested. When Mrs. Downs refused to testify, however, she was also arrested and charged as an accessory to the crime. Mr. Downs was eventually released on bail, but Mrs. Downs remained in the county jail. Then, Mr. Downs pleaded guilty to a charge of slitting a man's throat a few months after his release from jail. Upon pleading guilty, Mr. Downs forged an agreement that ensured his wife's freedom. He was sentenced to Sing Sing prison for three to 10 years. Mrs. Downs was never heard from again.

While the Downs faded from the headlines and the story of the infamous murder was forgotten, the house remained timeless. A photograph entitled "Closing a Summer Cottage, Quogue, New York," which was art-directed by Norman Rockwell in 1957, captured the cottage as it stands today.

Along with its preserved architecture, the cottage shelters many stories beneath its shingles. There are still secrets to be uncovered. "I recently found a hidden liquor cabinet behind the installed wooden seat in the living room," said Brown, the current cottage occupant. With a driftwood door for a mouth, the Murder - or Honeymoon - House is good at keeping secrets. If only floorboards could speak.