A VERY SLENDER CLUE FASTENS A ROBBERY UPON A BOSOM FRIEND OF THE
VICTIM--THE LOOT RECOVERED.
Early in 1872, while I was Chief of Police of Oil City, Pennsylvania, I
was sitting in my office in the City Hall one morning, talking to Col.
E. A. Kelley, who was at that time City Comptroller. His office adjoined
mine. The colonel was a jolly, good-natured gentleman, middle-aged, very
portly, scholarly, and of military bearing. He was a graduate of
Annapolis Naval Academy, and had spent a portion of his early life in
the United States navy. He had traveled a great deal, and was generally
well-informed. He had formed a great liking to me, and took an interest
in the police department, and especially in the detection of criminals
and the capture of them, and loved to talk with me during our leisure
moments relative to that portion of my duties as chief of the
department.
We were thus engaged in a pleasant conversation, when two young men, who
were probably from twenty-five to twenty-eight years of age, entered the
office and inquired of the Colonel for the Chief of Police. Colonel
Kelley pointed to me saying, "There is the Chief," and arose to leave
the office. I knew that there was no cause for his leaving at the
moment, so asked him to remain, feeling that he would be interested in
the young men's business with me.
The spokesman of the two said to me that his name was William Brewer,
and that he was the superintendent of an oil company which was operating
a large number of oil wells on the Blood farm, which was located on Oil
Creek, Venango County, Pennsylvania, and about six miles north of Oil
City. He stated that his home was in the state of Ohio, near Cleveland,
where he had bought a small farm for a home for his parents, who were
getting old, and who were now living on this farm. He said that he was
earning a fairly good salary, and that he had been saving his money so
as to make the annual payment on the farm, as he had made the purchase
on the installment plan. His next annual payment of seven hundred
dollars, including the interest, would be due in about a week from that
date. He had been laying his money away in a trunk, which he kept in his
room in the boarding-house. He stated that he had nine hundred dollars
in bank notes, which he kept in a large, leather wallet, and which he
placed in this trunk. He said that he kept the trunk locked, and on that
morning he had occasion to unlock his trunk to take out some clothing,
and to his dismay discovered that the wallet and its contents were
missing. In answer to my question, he stated that he had found the trunk
locked, and apparently intact. I believe I only asked him the one
question. He did all the talking, clearly and distinctly, had a good
face, and his general manner impressed me very much.
His companion, who looked near enough like him to be a brother, which in
fact, I at first judged him to be, had nothing to say. After listening
attentively to his story, I was silent for a few moments, and finally
asked him how long it would take him to go to his boarding-house and
bring his trunk to my office, in exactly the same condition in which he
had found it. He replied that as the roads were quite bad he thought he
could have the trunk in my office in about four hours. I then explained
to him that as his boarding-house was outside of my jurisdiction as
Chief of Police, that I really would have no right to go there, but that
I would be glad to aid him to the best of my ability; to which he
replied that he would bring the trunk to my office as requested, and
thanked me for my trouble.
The boys then left the office, and I noticed that they had a horse and
buggy, in which they departed. While this conversation was going on
between myself and Brewer, Col. Kelley was sitting with his arms folded,
intently interested, but silent. When they had gone I returned to my
office, and sat down, where the colonel was waiting for me. After I had
seated myself and lighted a cigar the colonel said to me, "Tom, why did
you ask those boys to bring that trunk here to your office?" I
unhesitatingly replied, "Colonel, I don't know." Right here I want to
assure the reader that my reply was absolutely the truth. I really had
no idea at the time that I asked the young fellow to bring his trunk to
my office why I did so, other than that I had seen, while in the company
of other Chiefs of Police and detectives, that they, as a rule,
invariably cast as much mystery as possible about their work when
dealing with people outside of their departments. Neither did I feel at
liberty to admit to these young men that I felt incapable of solving the
mystery surrounding the disappearance of the money. All of which I
explained to the colonel. He laughingly shook his head and said, "Tom,
you are a detective, sure enough. You are not candid in this explanation
that you have given to me, but I beg your pardon, as it is really
presumptuous on my part to ask you such questions. However, I will just
wait and watch the outcome, which I believe will be all right." I tried
to answer the colonel that I had been candid with him, but it was in
vain.
In due time, during the afternoon of the same day, the boys returned to
my office, carrying the trunk between them. Col. Kelley was on hand, as
he had evidently been watching for them and had seen them as they
entered my office. I asked him to be seated, and said to Brewer, "I wish
that you would place that trunk in this room in as near the same
position as it was in your room at the boarding-house."
Brewer said, "Our room is square and nearly the shape of this office,
but not so large. There are two windows in the west side of our room.
They are about five feet apart." And he placed the trunk against the
wall of the office between two windows, which were farther apart than
the windows in his room. After he had placed the trunk, I said to him,
"Now, I want you to approach the trunk just as you did this morning,
when you missed your money, unlock the trunk, and go through the same
motions that you did until you discovered the loss."
He approached the trunk, got down on his right knee, unstrapped the
trunk, produced a key, unlocked it, turned the lid back against the
wall, then removed the tray which covered the portion of the trunk below
the lid. This trunk was a cheap one, covered with an imitation of
leather, and was comparatively new. The trunk and tray were lined with a
delicate blue paper. The tint was of such a color that it would easily
soil. The tray had sides and ends which were perhaps two inches deep,
and slid down into the lower half of the trunk from the lid, where it
rested upon two cleats at either end. It fitted the trunk snugly. There
were two straps of light colored tape, which were about an inch wide and
were fastened with carpet tacks to the center of each end of the tray.
These tapes acted as handles by which the tray could be lifted from the
trunk. Brewer had to work for some time to get the tray up out of the
trunk, for the reason that one of the tape straps had evidently been
recently jerked from its fastenings. As stated before, these tapes had
been fastened to the tray by means of four large-sized carpet tacks.
When the one strap had been jerked off the tack remained firm in the
tray, but the heads of the tacks had been pulled off. This left a sharp
point on one of the tacks, which projected from the wood about
one-sixteenth of an inch, and like a needle point.
While Brewer was trying to remove the tray I was kneeling down at one
end of the trunk and noticed the sharp point on the tack. I also noticed
the mark of a thumb, which had been greasy and dirty, and which had been
pressed over the tack as the light paper plainly showed.
Meanwhile, the young man whom I supposed was the brother, was standing
at the other end of the trunk opposite me, when I happened to look up
just as he turned around towards me, with his hands by his side. I
noticed that the thumb on his right hand, which was calloused and dirty,
had been cut diagonally across, leaving the cut about three-quarters of
an inch long, and about a thirty-second of an inch deep. The cut was
fresh and was beginning to gape open, although not deep enough to bring
blood. The hands of all men employed around oil wells become more or
less saturated with oil, and are rough and calloused. Generally they
present a dirty and greasy appearance. As the fellow turned and I got a
glimpse of the cut in the thumb, I rose from beside the trunk, faced
him, and instantly seized his right hand. I carefully examined the cut,
then looked at the imprint on the end of the tray, and pointing to the
stain, said to him in a sharp, commanding tone, "Where is this man's
money?"
[Illustration: "Where is this man's money?"]
He began to cry, and said, "If you will let me go I will get the
money."
I asked him where the money was, and he said, "I hid it yesterday under
the carpet in the hall at the boarding-house."
Meanwhile, Brewer had turned ashy pale, and burst into tears,
exclaiming, "My God, Chief, I am sorry to learn that he, above all other
men, has taken my money. He knew all about it. He was the only person
who knew that I kept the money where I did. We have been raised
together. He was my schoolmate and is now my room-mate. His father and
mother live in Ohio and are our nearest neighbors. It would kill them to
know that Jim would do a thing like this. His name is Jim Davis."
I said to Davis, "Will you go with Brewer and get that money and turn it
over to him, intact?" He promised that he would do so, but he said,
"Chief, I cannot get the money from its hiding place unobserved until
after the people in the house have gone to bed, tonight."
"That will be all right," said Brewer, "I know Jim will do as he
promises. Now, Chief, if you will not arrest him I will gladly pay you
anything that you may charge me, but please do not arrest him. I could
not appear against him in court, for if I did so it would kill his
mother, and probably my mother too."
I replied that I would make no charges for my services, and if he was
satisfied it did not matter to me. I said, "You may take charge of him,
and if he does not turn the money over to you at once, I will take the
matter up and have him punished according to law."
The boys left with the trunk, and the next day Brewer called upon me and
told me that Davis had turned all the money over to him, and had then
attempted to commit suicide. He had gone to a near-by drug store and
purchased a quantity of poison with suicidal intent. Suspecting that
Davis had contemplated ending his life, Brewer had detailed a trusted
and mutual friend to watch him, unknown to Davis, and who seized him and
took the poison away from him before he could use it.
Davis and Brewer were friends afterwards and became inseparable, as they
had been before that time. If the parents of either of them ever heard
of the occurrence I am not aware of it.
After the boys had left, Col. Kelley, who had taken in the entire
proceedings in silence, came to me with moisture in his eyes, and said,
"Chief, you are a brick."