Harcout again.-- "Things going slow."-- A Bit of personal
History.-- A new Tenant.-- Detective Generalship.-- Mrs.
Winslow fears she is watched.-- Mr. Pinkerton cogitates.
It is pleasant to realize that the world moves along just the same,
whether the many mild lunatics it carries attempt to interfere with it
or not. There are countless men, precisely like Harcout, incapable of
holding in their little brains but one idea at a time, and that idea
invariably pushes to the surface their own supreme egotism and
self-consciousness, and just as invariably displays their utter
ignorance of what they are continually interfering with; and it is both
a grateful and charitable thought that such small minds, burdened with
such vast assurance, are merely provided by Omniscience to make us
patient, to warn us from allowing such knowledge as we may fortunately
gain from developing into similar self-assertion, and to serve to
illustrate true worth by contrast.
Here was this fellow sweeping into my office every day, demanding every
detail of my operations on Mrs. Winslow, even intimating that I should
consult with him as to every move to be made, and submit to his
consideration even the character of the men employed, the color of their
clothing and the quality, and every item or act concerning or included
in the work. He had, in some unexplainable way that is common to brazen
assurance or unmitigated ignorance, fastened himself upon the weak old
man as a sort of confidential agent, or what-not, worked upon his fears,
his superstitions, and his foolish half-faith in a system of religion
that has never yet made other than male and female prostitutes,
adventurers, or lunatics, until the old man, standing alone and almost
friendless, had learned to cling to him, and almost rely upon his
consummate bravado to extricate him from the meshes of the web his own
vileness and a vile woman had woven about him; so that in one sense he
stood in the relation of principal to me, and I found it impossible to
shake him off, or relieve myself to any great extent of his impudent
presence and foolish suggestions.
I knew that he was utterly without principle, and was only making a show
of this extraordinary energy in order to appear to more than earn
whatever he got from Lyon, and continue in the latter's mind the feeling
that he was utterly indispensable to him. I also knew him to be as mean
an adventurer as Mrs. Winslow was an adventuress; that he was the
villain who had first unloosed this vast flood of vileness and lechery
upon society, and who, as the shameless Christian minister of Detroit,
had put the fire-brand from hell in this woman's hand, to ever after
continue her moral incendiarism wherever she might go, until thrust from
life and infamous memory, and it annoyed me that this sort of a man
should dictate to me.
I could have disposed of him at one stroke, and I am satisfied that had
I on only one occasion addressed him as the Rev. Mr. Bland, and casually
inquired concerning his old Detroit friends, including Mother Blake, he
would have slunk away without a word or a protest of any kind whatever;
and had I gone farther, and showed him what he himself did not know,
that this woman, whom he was so anxious to have brought down with some
startling development, was none other than the one whom he had led into
a life of sin from the pleasant Nettleton farm-house by the winding
river, and that he was now playing guardian to a man that would have
probably been free from the curse that was hanging over him, had it not
been for Harcout's earlier and more rascally villainy, he would have
disappeared altogether, but I realized that this would not do. It would
have had the effect of putting Lyon at the mercy of a horde of new
ghouls, while the existing one frightened all others away and was in a
measure a protection to Lyon, for he was now only bled by one, where he
would otherwise have been bled by twenty.
Aside from this, it would have probably resulted in Mrs. Winslow's being
put on her guard, giving her time, not only to cover her tracks in many
criminal instances we had already discovered against her, but also cause
her to prevent witnesses from giving depositions, or, where depositions
had already been taken, give her an opportunity to secure affidavits
from the parties who gave them that they were mistaken as to the
identity of the person named in those instruments, and in other
particulars greatly destroy the effect of the work already done and
that which I had planned; and I was consequently obliged to bear the
fellow's dictatorial manner and suggestions, as he insisted on doing the
work this way or that way, and urged that I was not "pushing things"
fast enough.
"Why, Mr. Pinkerton," said he one day, his eyebrows elevated and the
corners of his mouth drawn down, his whole face expressive of lofty
condescension and gentle, though firm reproof, "things are going rather
slow--rather slow. Hem! When we brought this case to you, we depended
upon expedition--depended on expedition, Mr. Pinkerton."
"And have you any cause to complain?" I asked pleasantly.
"Well, I don't know as we should exactly call it 'complain.' No, I don't
know as we exactly complain; but, if we might be allowed the
privilege--hem!--we would beg to suggest, without giving offence--beg to
suggest, mind you, without giving offence," he repeated, in the most
offensive way possible, "that, if I might be allowed the expression,
things are not pushed quite enough!"
"On the contrary," I continued good-naturedly, "we have secured what any
good lawyer would consider an overwhelming amount of evidence, and are
letting the woman take her own course, in order to allow her to
completely unwind herself."
"But you see, Pinkerton, we supposed when we brought the case to you
that you would, so to speak, smash things--break her all up and scatter
her, as it were--hem!--disperse her, you know."
He said this as though he had taken a contract with Lyon to compel me to
avenge them both on the woman, and it heated my blood to be considered
in the light of any person's hired assassin; but I controlled myself,
and explained the matter to him.
"Harcout," said I, "do you know anything about my history?"
"Well, nothing save what I've seen in the newspapers. Merely by
reputation," he added lightly.
"Well, sir, whatever that reputation may be, Harcout," I said, "this is
the truth. I never, that I know of, did a dishonorable deed. I worked
from a poor boy to whatever position or business standing I now
have--worked hard for everything I got or gained, and I never yet found
it necessary to do dirty work for any person."
"Quite noble of you--quite noble," said Harcout patronizingly.
"The detection of criminals," I continued, paying no attention to his
moralizing, "_should_ be as honorable--and so far as I have been able to
do, has been made as honorable--while it is certainly as necessary as
that of any other calling. No element of revenge can enter into my work.
You came to me with a case which I at first objected to take, on account
of its nature. I would not have taken it for all the money Mr. Lyon
possesses, had I not been assured that this Mrs. Winslow was a dangerous
woman. Nor, knowing that she is one, as I now do, would I have any
connection with the case if I found that Mr. Lyon insisted on my using
the peculiar power which I always have at command for any other purpose
than the, in this case, legitimate one of securing evidence against her
which actually exists. I am satisfied that a no more relentless and
terrible woman ever lived, but shall leave her punishment to her
disappointment in not securing what her whole soul is bent on getting,
and that is Lyon's money. I have nothing whatever to do with punishment,
sir, and no person ever did or ever can use my force for that nefarious
purpose!"
"Oh, exactly--exactly," replied the oily Harcout; "but, you see, we
rather--hem!--expected something startling, you know. Now, for
instance," here he raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in a wise
way; "supposing you had just ascertained all about her early history,
you would probably have found that Mrs. Winslow had played these games
all her life. Undoubtedly you could point to the very first man whom she
blackmailed----"
"Undoubtedly," I interrupted, "I'm sure I could do it at this moment!"
Harcout looked at me quickly, but as I was gazing at the ceiling as if
in deep thought, he went on quite enthusiastically:
"Exactly. They learn it early. They will swindle at sixteen, rob at
eighteen; blackmail at twenty; and kill a man any time after that!"
"Why, Harcout are _you_ a woman-hater?" I laughingly asked,
notwithstanding my annoyance.
"Oh, no," he suddenly replied; "but I had a friend who once suffered
from very much the same sort of a woman as this Mrs. Winslow, and she
was not eighteen years old either. But to resume: Get this point in her
life, and the rest--hem!--the rest reads right on like the chapters of a
book!"
"And then what?" I ventured to ask.
"Then what?" he asked indignantly; "go for her through the newspapers.
Drive her out of the country. Make it impossible for her to ever
return;" and then, as if reflecting, "ruin her altogether. Any reporter
will listen to you if you have anybody to ruin! In fact, get up an
excitement about it and show her up."
"And try your case in the newspapers instead of in the courts?" I added,
"which would have the effect of leaving the matter at the end just where
it was at the beginning, with nothing proven, and Mr. Lyon still at the
mercy of any future surprise the woman might conceive a fancy of
springing upon him."
But there was no means of changing this lofty gentleman's opinions, and
these interviews were always necessarily closed by the threat on my part
that I would have nothing further to do with the matter if I was not
allowed to conduct my operations according to my own judgment in the
light of my own large experience upon such matters, and Mr. Harcout
would depart in a most dignified and frigid manner, as though it were a
"positively last appearance," only to return the next day with more
objections and a new batch of suggestions, which were given me for
"what they were worth," as he would remark, and we would fight our
battles all over again, with the stereotyped result.
I saw Mr. Lyon very seldom, and he always approached me in the timid,
reluctant way in which he had come into my office when the case was
first begun; but, contrary to what I had anticipated through Harcout's
injunctions to "push things" and crush the woman out, he approved of my
course throughout, and seemed wonderfully pleased that everything had
been conducted so quietly and yet so effectively. Of course he shrank
from the trial and the miserable sort of publicity all such trials
compel; but he was _more_ fearful of the woman's future unexpected and
sudden sallies upon him, which both he and myself were satisfied would
be made at her convenience or whim, and was only too glad to agree to
any course which would compel silence and peace.
At Rochester everything was working smoothly. After Bristol had become
located, his first work was to secure the admission to Mrs. Winslow's
rooms of Fox, as Lyford, which was done by representing that, the same
day he had himself gone there, he had suddenly come upon a sort of
relative of his who was a book-keeper in a wholesale house on Mill
street, and who was boarding at the Osborn House, and would be glad to
make some arrangement whereby he might live comfortably, be near his
business, and take his meals when and where he pleased. Thinking he
would be more pleasantly situated, and, at the same time, be able to
economize somewhat, Bristol said he had recommended Mrs. Winslow's
rooms very highly and that Lyford had agreed to call and take a look at
the place, which he did, making a good impression, and arranging to have
his baggage sent the next day.
The rooms were situated so that the two detectives in a measure had
their quarry surrounded, or, at least, completely flanked. The halls of
the floor intersected each other at right angles at the top of the
stairs, and Mrs. Winslow's reception-room was at the right, as the hall
was entered from the stairway, while her sleeping-room could only be
reached from this sitting-room, although being situated next the hall
running parallel with the front of the building, while Bristol had
shrewdly secured another sleeping-room fronting on St. Paul street,
similar in size to Mrs. Winslow's, adjoining hers, and also, like hers,
opening into the reception-room, which they had agreed to use in common,
as it seemed that the fair landlady was all of a sudden, for some
reason, becoming close and penurious. Fox's room was across the hall
immediately opposite Mrs. Winslow's, as he had expressed a strong desire
to be as near his cousin, Mr. Bristol, as possible, so that by chance
and a little careful work the parties were located with as much
appropriateness as I could possibly have wished for. The operatives each
paid a month's rent in advance, taking receipts for the same, and
immediately began paying particular attention to all parties who came in
and out of the building, circulated freely among the Spiritualists of
the city, and got on as good terms as possible with the charming
landlady, who seemed at times to be a little suspicious of her
surroundings, as it introduced altogether too many strange faces to suit
a person who had a no clearer conscience than she had.
From the gay, dashing woman she had been, she became unpleasantly
suspicious. She explained this to Bristol and Fox as arising from
unfavorable visions and revelations from the spirits through the
different mediums she had employed to give her the truth about her case
with Lyon. The rooms had filled up rapidly with people whom the
operatives had taken pains to ascertain all about, and who, as a rule,
were honest folks; but Mrs. Winslow could not get it out of her mind
that some of them were spies from Lyon, and were watching her in
everything that she did.
There had been nothing whatever done to alarm her on the part of my men;
but the fact alone that here were a dozen people all about her, any one
of whom might at any time spring some sudden harm upon her, began to
affect her as the fear she had all her life inspired in others had
affected them; and she began to form a habit of talking pleasantly on
ordinary subjects, and then turning abruptly and almost fiercely upon
Bristol and Fox, who were now the only persons left whom she would at
all trust--even distrusting them--with a series of questions so vital,
and given with such wonderful rapidity, that it required the best
efforts of the operatives to parry her home-thrusts and quiet her
regarding them.
It was a question in my mind whether she had laid by a large sum of
money or not. Years before she had several thousand dollars; up to the
time she came to Rochester she had had the reputation of never paying a
bill, and, however hedged in she might be by justice, jury, constables,
or sheriff, she not only escaped incarceration, but beat them all
without paying any manner of tribute. She had done a fair business in
duping Spiritualists and other weak-minded people while in Rochester;
she had evidently levied upon Devereaux often and largely, and to my
certain knowledge had taken some thousands of dollars from Lyon, and I
was at a loss to know why she was growing so grasping and exacting as
the reports showed was true of her; for she soon complained of being
poor, levied additional assessment for care of the rooms, insisted upon
her tenants receiving sittings at a good round price from her, and in
general dropped the veneer which had formerly made her extremely
fascinating, and became, save in exceptional moments of good nature, a
masculine, repulsive shrew, who, with a slight touch of hideousness,
might have passed for a stage witch or a neighborhood plague.