top of page

The Vanishing Billionaire: The Mysterious Disappearance of Alfred Loewenstein


Man in a suit and coat holds a hat on a ship deck. Nearby, men in coats and hats board a large plane marked HA. Black and white.
Loewenstein on board a ship for a party. (right) boarding the plane he would disappear from

On the evening of 4 July 1928, Alfred Loewenstein, one of the wealthiest men in the world, boarded his private aircraft at Croydon Airport. It was a routine flight—one he had taken countless times before—bound for his homeland of Belgium. The skies were clear, the aircraft, a Fokker FVII, was in good working order, and there was nothing to suggest that this would be anything but an uneventful journey. Yet, by the time the plane touched down, Loewenstein was gone. He had quite literally vanished into thin air.


The Man Who Built an Empire

At the onset of the 20th century, Alfred Loewenstein had established himself as one of the most influential financiers in the world. His vast fortune was amassed through a combination of astute investments, financial mediation, and an innovative approach to business, particularly through the development of the holding company model. His company, International Holdings and Investments, attracted substantial capital from investors eager to see their money grow. Loewenstein had been instrumental in financing various European industries, including electricity supply to developing countries, making him an indispensable figure in global finance.

Men in 1930s attire walk on a street; one with a cane. A vintage car and a building with "UNION" sign are in the background. It seems serious.
Loewenstein heads to his plane

But for all his financial acumen, Loewenstein had no shortage of enemies. His business dealings were often aggressive, and his success did not always translate to goodwill among his contemporaries. By 1928, pressure was mounting from investors demanding returns, and the financier found himself at the centre of legal battles and corporate intrigue. Was it this mounting pressure that led to his demise? Or was something more sinister at play?



A Flight into Mystery

Loewenstein’s private flight was staffed by his personal employees: Fred Baxter, his valet; Arthur Hodgson, his secretary; and two stenographers, Eileen Clarke and Paula Bidalon. In the cockpit were the pilot, Donald Drew, and the aircraft mechanic, Robert Little. The Fokker FVII had a small lavatory at the rear of the cabin, equipped with an external door marked ‘EXIT’. This door was designed to be opened only on the ground and was secured with a latch that required considerable effort to manipulate in mid-air.

A vintage portrait of a man in a flight jacket with short hair. Text below reads: "Captain Drew, who was piloting Captain Loewenstein's plane."

Shortly after take-off, the flight proceeded smoothly. Loewenstein spent the early part of the journey reviewing documents, before rising from his seat and heading to the lavatory at the rear of the plane. He never returned. When, after several minutes, his valet Baxter went to check on him, he found the lavatory empty. The only plausible conclusion was that Loewenstein had somehow exited the aircraft while it was in flight—plummeting thousands of feet into the English Channel below.


A Bizarre Response

Faced with the disappearance of their employer, the aircraft’s crew made a perplexing decision. Rather than heading for the nearest airfield to report the incident, pilot Donald Drew opted to land on a deserted beach near Dunkirk, in a restricted military area. This immediately drew the attention of French soldiers stationed nearby, who detained the pilot and crew for questioning.


Under interrogation, Drew and Little suggested that Loewenstein had mistakenly opened the external door and fallen to his death. But this explanation was immediately met with scepticism. Numerous tests were carried out in the following weeks by the Accidents Branch of the British Air Ministry, including experiments in which men hurled themselves at the door mid-flight to see if it could be forced open. The conclusion was clear: the door was too secure to be opened by accident.



The Body and the Investigation

Loewenstein’s fate was confirmed on 19 July, when a fishing boat discovered a decomposed body floating off the French coast near Boulogne. The corpse was identified as Loewenstein’s through clothing and personal items. His widow, Madeleine, arranged for a private autopsy, which found no signs of foul play, though an odd detail emerged—Loewenstein’s blood contained a small amount of alcohol, despite the fact that he was known to be a teetotaller.


The official investigation into Loewenstein’s death was lacklustre at best. Authorities in both France and Belgium swiftly concluded that his death had been an accident, despite clear evidence that it was almost impossible for him to have fallen from the plane unaided. No one was placed under oath during the inquiry, and testimonies from the pilot and mechanic went unchallenged.

Cutaway of an airplane showing labeled positions: pilot, captain, and secretaries. Text details plane sections, including lavatory.

Theories of Murder

If Loewenstein did not fall to his death by accident, then the only other logical conclusion was that he was pushed. But by whom? And why?


One of the most compelling theories was put forward by author Williams Norris, who suggested that both the pilot, Donald Drew, and the mechanic, Robert Little, had been paid to orchestrate Loewenstein’s murder. Norris argued that the aircraft had been fitted with a rigged door, with loose bolts and hinges that would allow for easy opening mid-flight. The original door, he speculated, may have been stored in the luggage compartment and later switched after landing. This would explain why Drew landed on an isolated beach rather than at an official airstrip—where an inspection of the plane might have exposed the deception.



Who Had Motive?

If Loewenstein’s death was murder, who stood to gain? Several figures had strong motives:

  • Henri Dreyfus: A former business associate turned rival, Dreyfus had been embroiled in a bitter legal dispute with Loewenstein over a libellous exposé in the Belgian press. Facing financial ruin, could he have taken drastic action to silence his adversary?

  • Albert Pam and Frederick Szarvasy: Loewenstein’s partners in International Holdings were in a precarious position. Documents unearthed by Norris suggested that shortly before Loewenstein’s death, a series of anonymous insurance policies had been taken out on his life—policies that, following his demise, resulted in a sudden and unexplained $13 million profit for the company.

  • Madeleine Loewenstein: The widow’s actions in the wake of her husband’s disappearance were unusually cold. She did not attend his funeral and made no attempt to press for a more thorough investigation. Was she complicit in the plot?


Open aircraft door revealing interior with metal walls and small circular window. Exterior shows part of aircraft with text partially visible.
The rear door to the plane

An Unsolved Case

Despite the many theories, no one was ever charged with any crime in relation to Loewenstein’s disappearance. His business empire collapsed soon after his death, and many of those who might have had information either vanished from public life or, like Drew, died within a few years. His body was buried in an unmarked grave, a stark contrast to the grandeur of his wealth in life.


Ultimately, Alfred Loewenstein’s disappearance remains one of the great aviation mysteries of the 20th century. Whether it was an accident, suicide, or a perfectly executed murder, one thing is certain—one of the richest men in the world walked into an aircraft lavatory and was never seen alive again.

 




Comments


bottom of page
google.com, pub-6045402682023866, DIRECT, f08c47fec0942fa0