Room 1046

Part One: Roland T. Owen

On Wednesday, 2 January 1935, a young man arrived at the Hotel President in Kansas City, Missouri. Claiming to be from Los Angeles, he told the front desk his name was Roland T. Owen and requested an interior room several floors up. But just two days later, after repeated attempts at rousing this guest for his morning wake-up call, a bellhop would make a grisly discovery inside of room 1046...

Inside Kansas City, Missouri rests a historic hotel, which may not look like it, but is home to one of America's strangest unsolved murders.

Built in 1925, the Hotel President (or the President Hotel, depending on who you asked) was part of Niagara Falls businessman Frank A. Dudley's string of successful hotels built in the early 20th century. It was constructed in an era when Kansas City was attempting to build up its Power & Light District, which is now one of the largest developmental projects in the entire Midwest.

At the time the Hotel President opened in 1926, it had been built over many months, and was considered by all who visited to be a great place to stay. So much so that it was chosen by the Republican Party to serve as its headquarters for the Republican National Convention in 1928, the year that they chose longtime administrator Herbert Hoover to become their nominee, an election that he would end up winning... much to the chagrin of many, including historians. But that's neither here nor there.

Regardless, at the time today's story unfolded, the shine from the 1928 Republican Convention had yet to truly wear off. While it's true that the Hotel President was the only hotel in the Power & Light District, it was still regarded as a nice play to stay that wasn't too expensive. Its affordability is actually what drew a peculiar guest to the hotel in the early days of 1935, launching a mystery that endures nearly an entire century later.

This is the story of Room 1046.

At around 1:20 PM on Wednesday, January 2nd, 1935, a young man arrived at the Hotel President. Carrying no luggage with him at the time, the young, well-dressed man asked for an interior room several floors up. He paid for his day's rent in advance, something he'd do the following day, as well. When asked, he gave his name as Roland T. Owen, telling hotel staff that he was from Los Angeles. Per his requests, he was assigned room 1046.

Hotel staff would later describe the guest as pretty physically unremarkable. He was white with dark hair, and none of his features were really significant. His age was tough to determine, with most believing him to be in his mid-thirties, while others pegged him as being in his early twenties. Yet, he did have a few physical characteristics that would come into play later on: a visible scar on his temple, which he tried to hide by combing over his hair, as well as cauliflower ear on his left ear, indicating he was a wrestler or fighter of some kind. He was well-dressed, wearing a dark overcoat over a suit, but carried no possessions with him. At least, none visible.

A bellhop, Randolph Probst, accompanied Owen up to his room on the tenth floor, speaking to him briefly. The new guest told the bellhop that he'd spent the previous night at another nearby hotel, the Muehlebach Hotel, but found its nightly rate of $5 to be a bit too much (a cost of roughly $115 in modern currency). The two then made it to room 1046, which - per Owen's request - was an interior room on an upper floor. The room had a view overlooking the hotel's courtyard. After walking into the room, Owen then began emptying the pockets of his overcoat, revealing that he carried a hairbrush, a comb, and a toothbrush with him. Randolph Probst, the bellhop, waited until Owen finished unpacking, and the two then began walking back downstairs. Probst locked the door behind both of them, and then handed Owen the key to his room. While the room could be locked from the inside, it could also be locked from the outside via a key, and Owen would maintain possession of this key throughout the rest of his stay, never handing it over to the hotel staff.

After making it back down to the hotel lobby, Owen then left out the front door, headed out to destinations unknown. Staff didn't see him arrive back at the hotel, but he apparently did just a short time later.

Early that afternoon, a maid would enter room 1046 for housekeeping. Mary Soptic, having had the prior day off of work, was surprised to find the guest, Roland T. Owen, inside the room when she walked in. She'd expected to find a female guest who'd been staying in the room when she'd last worked. However, the circumstances of this encounter made the entire ordeal unsettling to Mary.

When she'd entered into the unlocked room and found Owen sitting inside, he'd been immersed in darkness. He'd kept the shades to the room drawn, and only had on one rather dim lamp on a table for light. Yet, he seemed unperturbed by Mary's presence. She later recalled in a statement to police, reported in the January 6th edition of the Kansas City Star:

"He told me to come in and go ahead with fixing the room... The shades were drawn and the light from the desk lamp was dim... My impression of this man from the expressions on his face and from his actions was that he was either worried about something or afraid. He always wanted to keep in the dark... He put on his overcoat, combed his hair and told me he was going out and not to lock the door when I left, because he was expecting a friend.

"When I was cleaning the room I observed the note on the writing desk... It read, 'Don: I will be back in fifteen minutes. Wait."

Roland T. Owen left the hotel yet again, headed out to somewhere unknown to staff. And the housekeeper Mary Soptic did as he'd requested; when she was done cleaning the room, she left the door unlocked. She returned a few hours later with fresh towels, and was again surprised by Owen's presence in the dark room. Mary's statement to police read:

"At 4 o'clock Wednesday afternoon I returned to the room with towels and Owen was lying across the bed with the room dark. The lights were out."

At this point, Mary and other hotel staff began to share whispers about their strange new guest, theorizing that he was a drunk. Alcohol seemed to be the only thing to explain away his strange behavior. But little did they know that Owen's behavior that Wednesday was only a precursor for what was to come.

The following morning, at around 10:30 on Thursday, January 3rd, 1935, Mary Soptic returned to clean room 1046. The door was locked from the outside, indicating that the new hotel guest had stepped out. However, after unlocking the door with her passkey and stepping inside, Mary was surprised to find Roland T. Owen sitting inside... again in the dark, just as he'd been the day before, with the shades drawn and the dim table lamp on. She didn't know why the door had been locked from the outside, but Mary undoubtedly didn't want to know. Her statement to police, given the following day, read:

"At 10:30 o'clock Thursday I went to the room and unlocked it, believing the guest was out. I walked in and found this man sitting there with the lights off and the shades drawn. I realized after I unlocked this door that the man had been locked in from the outside. While in the room I heard a conversation Owen had over the telephone. He was saying, 'No, Don, I don't want to eat, I am not hungry, I just had breakfast.'"

Mary went about her business inside room 1046, cleaning it and striking up a brief conversation with the guest, who sat in the dark and asked her about her job. He asked Mary if she was responsible for cleaning the entire floor, and again voiced his complaints about the nearby Muehlebach Hotel, the same ones he'd raised the day prior in a conversation with the bellhop. Soon after, Mary finished cleaning the room and left.

Mary would return again at around 4:00 PM, again with some fresh towels. As she approached the door, she could hear two men talking inside. One voice was that of Owen, the houseguest she'd now encountered thrice, each time in darkness. The other voice was deeper, louder, a bit more gruff. She wasn't able to make out what they were saying, but interrupted their conversation with a brief knock. The man with the deeper voice asked who it was, and she told them she'd brought fresh towels. The man with the deeper voice replied:

"No, we don't need any; we've got enough."

Mary found this odd, as she'd taken away all of the dirty, used towels earlier in the day when she'd cleaned it, so she knew there were no towels inside. Yet she let the matter be, moving on the next room.

At around 11:00 PM that Thursday, a city worker driving through the Power and Light District, nearby the Hotel President, happened upon a man dressed in an undershirt, pants, and shoes, who ran into the path of his vehicle and flagged him down. The driver, Robert Lane, came to a stop, and the other man apologized, believing he'd been a taxi driver.

Robert told the other man he wasn't, but the other man asked if he could drive him to an area where taxis frequented. Robert told him he could, giving him a short lift to an area where he knew taxis waited for fares later at night. During the drive, Robert recalled saying to the man:

"You look as if you've been in it bad."

And that was the truth. This passenger, sitting in the backseat, seemed to be bleeding from his arm, a wound that appeared to have been deeply cut. Robert believed this man was trying to cup the wound to prevent blood from spilling out. During their brief drive, the man would remark in an offhand comment that he was going to kill someone the next day.

After a couple of blocks, Robert let the man out, and he thanked him before climbing out and hailing down a taxi nearby.

Later, Robert Lane would identify this strange man as the Hotel President's guest, Roland T. Owen. Yet what circumstances may have led him to this strange encounter remain unknown to this day.

That evening, guests on the tenth floor would report loud noises, which weren't isolated to any one room, yet painted a rather chaotic picture. In addition to a party going on in room 1055, there were constant trips up to the tenth floor through the elevator, with men and women coming and going from various rooms, talking loudly.

Elevator operator Charles Blocher, who began his shift at midnight, later told authorities that he was busy until roughly 1:30 AM. Many of the residents seemed to be going to their rooms, or to the party in room 1055, but he did recall a couple of residents that came up in those early morning hours that struck him as odd. One was a woman he'd seen a few times before, who he believed to be a sex worker; the other was a man that later accompanied her, who he'd never see before. In his statement to police, he recalled:

"I took a woman that I recognized as being a woman who frequents the hotel with different men in different rooms. It is my impression from this woman's actions that she is a commercial woman. I took her to the 10th floor and she made inquiries for room 1026 (sic) - about 5 minutes after this I received a signal to come back to the 10th floor. Upon arriving there I met this same woman and she wondered why he wasn't in his room because he had called her and had always been very prompt in his appointments and she wondered if [he] might be in room 1024... she remained about 30 or 40 minutes then I received a signal to go back to the 10th floor - I went back and this same woman appeared there and came down on the elevator with me and left the elevator at the lobby. About an hour later she returned in company with a man and I took them to the 9th floor - I later received a signal to go to the 9th floor at about 4:15 AM and this same woman came down from the 9th floor and left the hotel. In a period of about 15 minutes later this man came down the elevator from the 9th floor complaining that he couldn't sleep and was going out for a walk."

Elevator operator Charles Blocher would describe the man and woman he'd seen that night as both standing around 5'6" tall and weighing about 135 pounds. The man wore a light brown overcoat with a brown hat and shoes. The woman wore a "coat of black hudson seal or imitation hudson seal," which had a light fur strip that stood up. Per his statement, this was a woman he'd seen around the hotel beforehand, but the man was new to him.

Blocher would describe a few others leaving the hotel at around the same time, after 4:00 AM. Among them was a pair of middle-aged women that left between 4:00 and 5:00 AM, as well as a man carrying a Gladstone bag, who left between 5:00 and 6:00 AM.

[A Gladstone bag, if you're unaware - like I was - is a type of old-timey suitcase that was used primarily by doctors at the turn of the 20th century to carry around medical equipment. So you've likely seen one, maybe in movies or TV, and just didn't know.]

A woman that was staying in the room next to room 1046 would later report hearing laughing and talking in Roland T. Owen's room just after midnight. When speaking to police, this woman would state that she heard what sounded like two couples - two men and two men - laughing and talking until roughly 2:00 AM. However, at that point, it seems like something happened and the conversation between them turned sour, with the guests in the room beginning to use "abusive language" towards each other between 2:00 and 3:00. She recalled the time because she'd actually started to call down to the front desk to complain about the noise, but decided not to at the last second.

This would later become notable because this woman recalled hearing what sounded like loud snoring at around 4:00 AM. Keep that in mind as this story continues to unfold.

At around 7:00 AM that Friday, January 4th, the hotel's switchboard operator Della Ferguson came on shift. She was prepared to make a requested wakeup call to room 1046, but noticed that the light was on, indicating the room's phone was off the hook. As such, she couldn't call it. She picked up the plug and repeatedly tried to say "good morning," hoping that the guest had preemptively picked up the phone, but there was no response from the other end of the line. Just silence.

From here, it fell upon staff workers to head up to the room and either give the wakeup call directly or put the phone back on the hook. So the first to be dispatched up to room 1046 was none other than Randolph Probst, the bellhop that had first accompanied Roland T. Owen up to his room two days prior. He would go up there, noticing a "Do Not Disturb" sign placed on the door, but he did so anyways. In his statement to police, he later recalled:

"About 7:05 o'block Friday morning the switchboard operator informed me the receiver was off the telephone hook in 1046, Owen's room... I found the door locked, knocked several times and then heard a deep voice say 'Come in.' The door was still locked, so I knocked again and the same voice said 'Turn on the lights.' I knocked some more, then told the man to put the telephone receiver on the hook. I returned to the hotel lobby and told the operator the man in 1046 apparently was drunk and for her to wait an hour or so and send someone up to try and get the receiver put on the hook."

At around 8:30, switchboard operator Della Ferguson noticed that the phone from room 1046 was still off of its receiver, so they were unable to make contact with the guest inside. Another bellhop, Harold Pike, was sent up to check in on the guest.

When Harold arrived at the room, he noticed that the "Do Not Disturb" sign still hung on the door, and - as Randolph Probst had recalled more than an hour earlier - the door was locked. Surprisingly, from the outside. But using his passkey, Harold Pike unlocked the door and stepped inside, finding the room dark. Again, the shades were drawn and the lights were off.

With the faint light coming in from the hallway, Harold could see that the room's occupant, Roland T. Owen, was laying naked on the bed, facing the wall away from him. He recalled seeing some dark spots on the bedding, but thought little of it at the time. Believing the man to be drunk, Harold reached toward the phone, laying on the floor, and put it back on the stand, before stepping out and leaving the room.

However, a little over two hours later, Della Ferguson noticed that the receiver in room 1046 was again off the hook, blocking any potential calls. So bellhop Randolph Probst found himself called up to the room again, the second time that morning. This time, he brought with him the passkey, allowing him to unlock doors that had been locked from the outside. He later told police:

"Then at 11:03 o'block the operator told me to go back to 1046 and tell the man to put his receiver on the hook... I knocked loudly three times and got no response. I then used the pass key and when I entered the room the man was within two feet of the door, on his knees and elbows, holding his head in his hands. I noticed blood on his head. I turned the lights on, placed the receiver on the hook, and saw blood on the walls, on the bed and in the bathroom."

Roland T. Owen, nude and visibly injured, was bent down on all fours, his head hung low, revealing he'd suffered a violent assault of some kind. Randolph Probst turned on the lights, illuminating what was a chaotic and bloody scene. A nearby chair was overturned. The bedding was in disarray, half on and half off the bed. It, like the walls and even the ceiling, were stained with streaks of blood.

Seeing this, Probst then turned around to try and seek help. In his statement to police, he recalled:

"This frightened me, and I left the room immediately and informed Mr. Weaver, assistant manager of the hotel. He and the manager and myself returned to the room and opened the door about six inches. The man was against the door and we could not open it farther, so we closed it and left, and shortly after this I saw a doctor and the police there."

By the time hotel staff came back up the room, the injured man inside had wedged himself against the door, struggling to maintain his own consciousness, it seemed.

Minutes later, police arrived, joined by Dr. Harold Flanders of Kansas City General Hospital. They were able to get the nude, injured guest away from the door, gaining access to the bizarre scene that lay on the other side of it. Having gained control of himself momentarily, Roland T. Owen stood, still nude and bloody, walking over to the bathroom. There, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, leaning over the wash bowl, where he tried to drink water from the faucet. Here, police and Dr. Flanders noted that the man had been bound, with the white cord still wrapped around his neck, wrists, and ankles. Dr. Flanders would cut the bindings, noting additional bruising around his neck, where someone had evidently tried to strangle him.

A brief scan of the young man's body would reveal stab wounds to his chest, including one that pierced the region just north of his heart. Another stab had punctured one of the man's lungs. He'd also suffered multiple blows to the head, resulting in a skull fracture.

While Dr. Flanders attempted to treat the young man, cutting away the bindings and trying to stop the bleeding, one of the police detectives, Ira Johnson, began asking him questions. In his dazed state, Owen was unable to answer much, struggling to find the words.

"Who was here with you?" Detective Johnson asked.

"Nobody," Owen responded.

"How did you get hurt?" Johnson.

"I fell against the bath tub." Owen.

"Did you try to commit suicide?"

"No."

Shortly thereafter, the man calling himself Roland T. Owen would lose consciousness. He would sadly never regain it.

Having been rushed to a nearby hospital, the young man would become comatose. He'd remain in that state for a dozen or so hours, succumbing to his injuries shortly after midnight on Saturday, January 5th, 1935.

The young man's death certificate was signed by county coroner Dr. P.H. Owen, who bore no relation to the decedent. For reasons that we'll explore, he ruled the death as a homicide.

The guest, who'd told the hotel that his name was Roland T. Owen, had been bound before his death. He'd been stabbed multiple times in the chest, including a wound that pierced a lung. His wrists were slashed. There were several bruises on the right side of his head, and his skull had been fractured. He'd suffered a significant cut to his right ear. His hands were bruised, indicating he'd been in a fight before his death. By all indications, he'd been tortured and suffered his injuries roughly 6-7 hours before he was found in his room, based on the amount of dried blood found on him at the time of his discovery. This put the rough estimate for the attack at sometime between 4:00 and 5:00 AM.

However, as investigators looked through the young man's hotel room, they discovered that virtually none of his belongings were there. They couldn't find any of his clothes, nor any of the regular hotel amenities, such as towels, soap, etc. Also missing were the young man's hairbrush and toothbrush, items that bellhop Randolph Probst had seen him take out of his pockets just two days prior. Neither was there a murder weapon in the room. Police believed Owen had been stabbed by a thin knife, and its absence indicated to them that this was no suicide. The missing blade - paired with the bindings around the young man's neck, wrists, and ankles - indicated something sinister. As stated by Detective Ira Johnson to reporters:

"There is no doubt that someone else is mixed up in this."

Based on multiple witness reports, it was believed that the attack on Roland T. Owen had started between 2:00 and 4:00 AM, during which time a loud conversation in his room had begun to turn sour. A neighbor in the next room recalled hearing "abusive language" hurled at someone within the room, and investigators believed that the loud snoring noise she heard at around 4:00 AM may have been, in fact, Owen struggling to breathe after getting stabbed in the lung.

Despite being unable to find any of Owen's belongings in the room, or a murder weapon, there were a few items that police would begin to focus their investigation on. Among them were a couple of items found on a rug near the bed, which included an unsmoked cigarette, a women's hairpin, and a necktie label for an item of clothing. The label indicated that the nondescript item of clothing had been made by the Botany Worsted Mills Company in Passaic, New Jersey. Other items of note in the room included a safety pin and a bottle of sulfuric acid, as well as the pieces of cord used to bind the victim. These were white cotton wrapping cords, described as having the thickness of a thin pencil, similar to that used for clotheslines. The knots used to bind the victim were described as simple and/or amateurish, having been triple tied.

After dusting the room for fingerprints, investigators would find female fingerprints on two items of note: an unbroken glass in the bathroom, as well as on the telephone stand, which had been left off the hook following this brutal attack.

After ruling the young man's death as a homicide, authorities began making plans to lay him to rest. However, as they tried to locate his next-of-kin, they ran into a problem that ran beyond a simple homicide investigation. Try as they might, authorities could not locate any of the decedent's family members or friends. As far as they could tell, Roland T. Owen was not even his real name.

As days turned into weeks, police and other officials struggled to determine the man's real identity. They would broadcast his description in local newspaper articles as a young white man between 25 and 30 years old, although that was disputed, with the coroner estimating his age at around 20 but hotel staff putting him at 35 or so. Yet he stood around 5'10" tall and weighed approximately 200 pounds, with brown, bushy hair and blue eyes, as well as a scar at the top of his head, which appeared to have come from an old burn. He'd combed his hair over the left side of his head to hide it, but the scar was described as being wedge-shaped, roughly 4.5 inches across, above the left ear.

In noting the bruises on his hands, authorities noted that they "were not hands used to labor." Yet his cauliflower ear gave the indication that he'd been a fighter of some kind, possibly a boxer, but most likely a wrester. Detective Ira Johnson, a former wrestler himself, noted the young man's unusual underarm muscular development, which he'd only ever seen in wrestlers.

These descriptions would lead to multiple people reaching out to police and even hotel staff, claiming to have known the man. One such woman dialed the Hotel President hours after the death had been first reported, asking the staff for a description of the man. When they gave it to her, she responded:

"That's the man. He used to live in Clinton, Mo."

This woman then hung up, before she could be asked any questions.

Police would reach out to their counterparts in Clinton, Missouri, and were unable to find anyone in that town missing that matched the description of this unknown man. Only one man in town had the name Roland Owen, but he was alive and well, surprised to hear that he may have been killed in Kansas City.

Authorities would then do the same for any potential missing people in the Los Angeles region - including those with the name Roland Owen - but were similarly unsuccessful.

Surprisingly, the woman who'd been staying in the room next door to this young man, who'd reported hearing the loud voices turn argumentative at around 2:00 AM, was named Jean Owen. She hailed from a nearby town called Lee's Summit, and had come into Kansas City to visit her boyfriend and go shopping. She was questioned because of the coincidence of her surname being so similar to the victim's, as was her boyfriend, who was questioned separately from her. Both of their stories matched up with one another, and it was determined that neither had any kind of relation to the dead man.

Despite their numerous attempts, officials in Kansas City were unable to identify the deceased young man, who they could only theorize had given staff at the Hotel President a fake name. They also didn't know why he'd been at the hotel, nor who he'd met up with during his stay there. As they tried to figure out his identity, they also tried to figure out who the mysterious "Don" was, this figure he'd left a note for and spoken to the telephone on.

Fingerprints of the decedent were sent to the Department of Justice via Wirephoto, but didn't match up with anyone on record. Photos of the man were published in newspapers and wire services, as were sketches of what he'd looked like alive, in the hopes of catching the attention of someone that knew him. However, in the months ahead, nothing would get confirmed... a positive identification ultimately taking years.

In the meantime, this strange mystery only deepened.

That's on the next episode of Unresolved.

continue to part two

Episode Information

Writing, research, hosting, and production by Micheal Whelan

Published on November 10th, 2024

Sources and Other Reading

Wikipedia Articles

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Wikipedia. (n.d.). Kansas City Power & Light District. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kansas_City_Power_%26_Light_District
Wikipedia. (n.d.). Hotel President. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hotel_President

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Newspapers.com. (n.d.). Ronald T. Owen, January 1935 search results. Retrieved from https://www.newspapers.com/search/results/?date=1935-01&keyword=ronald+t+owen&region=us-mo&sort=paper-date-asc
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Archived Articles

Kansas City Public Library. (2012). The Mystery of Room 1046, Pt. 1: Roland T. Owen. Retrieved from https://web.archive.org/web/20120321030654/https://www.kclibrary.org/blog/kc-unbound/mystery-room-1046-pt-1-roland-t-owen
Kansas City Public Library. (2012). The Mystery of Room 1046, Pt. 2: Love Forever, Louise. Retrieved from https://web.archive.org/web/20120725031332/http://www.kclibrary.org/blog/kc-unbound/mystery-room-1046-pt-2-love-forever-louise

News and Features

FOX4KC. (n.d.). Unsolved murder in 1935: The unusual guest at a Kansas City hotel. FOX4 Kansas City. Retrieved from https://fox4kc.com/news/unsolved-murder-in-1935-the-unusual-guest-at-a-kansas-city-hotel/
The New Yorker. (1938). The homicide squad in action. The New Yorker. Retrieved from https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1938/01/08/the-homicide-squad-in-action
Bergara, R. (n.d.). The Ogletree murder: One of the creepiest unsolved cases. BuzzFeed. Retrieved from https://www.buzzfeed.com/ryanbergara/the-ogletree-murder-is-one-of-the-creepiest-unsolved-cases
Trove. (n.d.). Roland T. Owen mystery. Retrieved from https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/167645421