DR. CRONIN FAILS TO RETURN HOME--ANXIETY OF HIS FRIENDS--THE EARLY
MORNING RIDE TO THE ICE HOUSE--O'SULLIVAN'S SURPRISE AND IGNORANCE--THE
MYSTERIOUS WAGON AND ITS OCCUPANTS--A BLOODY TRUNK IS FOUND--THE SEARCH
COMMENCED--"IT IS HIS HAIR."
Dr. Cronin did not join his friends at the meeting of the Celto-American
Society that memorable Saturday night. Nor, although the Conklins waited
for him until long past midnight, were the familiar footsteps heard upon
the stairs. The Sabbath dawned, and the first streaks of grey penetrated
through the curtains into his apartments, but he was still absent.
Naturally the Conklins became alarmed. During all the years that the
physician had lived with them he had been a model of punctuality in his
habits. It was the first occasion that he had remained so long from home
without reason. If his business affairs happened to keep him away even
an hour longer than usual it was his invariable practice to in some way
contrive to advise his friends, so that they might notify any patients
that came in his absence. Moreover, he was not a drinking man and such a
thing as staying out all night with boon companions was foreign to his
practice. Yet, eight hours had sped by, the morning had broken, and he
had not returned. No wonder, then, that the family was alarmed, or that
Mr. Conklin, without waiting for breakfast, determined to procure a
buggy and drive to P. O'Sullivan's residence, which adjoined his ice
house, at the corner of Seminary Avenue and Lake View. A startling
surprise awaited him at the end of his six mile ride. O'Sullivan, when
aroused from bed, was, to all appearances, considerably surprised when
asked if the doctor was in the house.
[Illustration: P. O'SULLIVAN, THE ICE MAN.]
"This is all news to me," he said, with an apparent air of frankness. "I
have not been out of town and I know nothing of the man in a buggy."
"Was there not an accident in your ice house?" he was asked. "No," was
the reply. "I have only four men in my employ and none of them have been
injured."
"Then you did not call on Dr. Cronin, or send for him?"
"No, the man who did call used my name without authority. You say he
used one of my cards, leaving it at the office. Well, I can understand
how that happened. My cards are scattered all over Lake View and the
city, and anybody could have used one in the same way."
"Do you know Dr. Cronin?" the ice man was asked.
"Yes," was his reply, "I have met him several times, and we were quite
friendly."
"How did you come to engage him as physician to your family and workmen,
when you live six miles from his office?"
This pointed query seemed to stagger the ice man for a moment, but at
last he replied:
"He was recommended to me by Justice Mahoney." The latter, who had been
elected a Lake View Magistrate but a few weeks before, had been regarded
as one of Dr. Cronin's friends.
"Then you do not know how it happened that he was summoned to your ice
house?" was the final query.
"I do not," emphatically replied O'Sullivan, "I cannot understand what
were the motives of the man who went for him."
This was all that the ice man had to say. In the light of subsequent
events, however, it was of importance. Mr. Conklin's worst fears were
intensified. Driving rapidly home, he learned from his wife that the
physician had not taken his revolver, as was his practice when going on
a long trip; that he had only a small amount of money with him, and that
he wore no jewelry of value except a watch. Without delay, Conklin
proceeded to notify Frank J. Scanlan, his brother John, and two or three
other Irish-Americans of prominence.
"This is the work of political enemies," they said without hesitation,
"it has been skillfully planned and executed. It will take time and
money to find him, if it is not intended to murder him."
Significant words. At that very hour the blood of the murdered man was
calling aloud for vengeance.
A hue and cry was at once raised. The Chicago police were notified, and
the most experienced detectives of the department started out on the
case. Pinkerton's Detective Agency was retained, and Detective Frank
Murray went out to Lake View as fast as a swift horse could take him.
Captain Schaack of the Chicago Avenue Station, and officers of the Lake
View police, were waited on and urged to turn loose all the officers
they could spare to solve the mystery. Last, but not least, the
newspaper offices were advised of the disappearance, and a score or more
of sleuth reporters were soon in the suburb. By sundown of Sunday nearly
sixty people were engaged in the search.
A STARTLING DISCOVERY.
Meanwhile there had been startling developments in another direction.
Somewhere in the neighborhood of two o'clock on the morning of the same
day (Sunday) and about six hours after the physician had been decoyed
from his residence, Officers Smith and Hayden, of the Lake View police
force, were on duty at the corner of Clark and Diversey Streets, when
they saw a carpenter's wagon, drawn by a bay horse, rumbling at a
furious rate toward the north. The Lake View police were under
instructions to hail passing vehicles and pedestrians after midnight,
and accordingly, Officer Smith stepped out on the pavement to look at
the two men who sat upon the driver's seat.
[Illustration: THE MYSTERIOUS WAGON.]
The wagon was driven at such speed, however, that the officer did not
have time to look into the faces of the two mysterious men or command
them to stop. There was a large trunk in the wagon. Both officers saw
this receptacle. When the wagon had disappeared Officer Smith became
suspicious of the two drivers, and told Officer Hayden so. The two
policemen patrolled their beats until about 3.30 o'clock when they again
met at Clark and Diversey Streets. They had been there but a few moments
when they again heard a vehicle rumbling over the pavement. It proved to
be the same old carpenter's wagon with its mysterious occupants and its
old bay horse. But the trunk was no longer in the wagon. This time
Hayden walked out upon the pavement to look at the men in the driver's
seat. One of them wore a black derby hat. His companion wore a soft hat.
Both were young and muscular. There was no name on the wagon. Officer
Hayden saw all this, but he could not get a good view of the men on the
seat. He did not hail them because he thought the movement of a trunk at
that time of year was not extraordinary. The wagon rolled back toward
Chicago and Officer Hayden dismissed the incident from his mind; but
Officer Smith was greatly disturbed, and told his companion so several
times during the early morning hours.
FINDING THE BLOODY TRUNK.
The officers returned to the station at the usual hour, but neither made
any report of the mysterious wagon or its still more mysterious
occupants. At half past seven o'clock, Alderman Chapman, of Lake View,
was driving along Evanston Avenue, between Graceland and the Roman
Catholic Cemetery. He had reached a point five hundred yards from
Sultzer Street, when he saw three men standing around a trunk which
stood back of a bush, with one end thrust into the ditch which runs
near the thoroughfare. Alderman Chapman alighted and went to the spot.
The cover of the trunk had been forced open. The interior was
bespattered with blood and partially filled with absorbent cotton which
was saturated with gore. Chapman drove hurriedly to the Lake View Police
Station and gave the alarm. Captain Villiers and a detachment of
officers leaped into the patrol wagon and made a furious run to the
lonely spot. When they got there they found a large crowd of gaping men
and boys who had trampled the grass in every direction. The trunk was
taken to the station house. The first thing Captain Villiers did after
he cleared his private room of the curiosity seekers who had swarmed
into the station house, was to make a careful examination of the trunk.
He found enough evidence to satisfy him that a grown person had been
murdered, thrust into it, and then carted to the spot between the two
cemeteries. The trunk was new and large. A man six feet tall could be
cramped into it. A trunk dealer who was summoned to the station house by
Captain Villiers, said at once that it had been made either in Racine or
Milwaukee. It was of cheap pattern and had evidently been purchased for
the purpose for which it was used. The trunk had been locked after the
body had been placed in it and the cotton had been packed about the
wounds in order to stanch the flow of blood and thus insure greater
safety in its transmission from place to place. Before the body was
removed the lock of the trunk had been broken by two sharp blows with a
blunt instrument. The marks of these blows were on both sides of the
lock. In their haste to remove the body the murderers had thrown the
cover back with such force that one of the sheet-iron hinges was broken.
Captain Villiers picked the cotton out and placed it upon his table. He
had formerly been a doctor and his examination of the cotton led him to
the belief that the murder must have been committed some time after
midnight. Some of the absorbent material was still soft with blood and
there was a pool of fresh blood in one corner of the trunk. Careful
examination of the cotton revealed other things to the officer. He found
a lock of dark-brown hair, which was almost as fine as a woman's but not
so glossy.
[Illustration: THE SPOT WHERE THE TRUNK WAS FOUND.]
[Illustration: THE BLOODY TRUNK AND ITS CONTENTS.]
This was the only possible tangible clue to the identity of the victim.
The lock of hair was placed under a microscope. It was found to be
filled with blood and particles of cotton.
More closely examined; it looked as though it had been chopped off with
a blunt instrument. It had not been pulled out of the scalp but the
hairs were all of uneven length and looked as though they might have
come off the cranium near the forehead. The inside of the cover of the
trunk was bespattered with blood. Some of the life fluid had trickled
down the exterior; presumably when the body was dragged out upon the
ground. There were no marks on the trunk and aside from the lock of hair
there was absolutely nothing left for the officers to hold for
identification.
SEARCHING FOR CLUES.
Captain Villiers had not yet heard of the disappearance of Dr. Cronin.
He was quickly satisfied, however, that a diabolical murder had been
committed and at once issued orders to his subordinates to institute a
thorough search for the body, which he believed to be somewhere in the
neighborhood of the spot where the trunk was found. A patrol wagon
filled with officers was out the entire afternoon. The men searched all
the brush, prairie and vacant houses for a mile around, but could find
no trace of the corpse. So many persons had trampled the grass at the
spot where the trunk was found that the officers could not discover
tracks of any vehicle. Evanston Avenue is so well paved that search
along this much travelled highway would have been useless. The officers
scoured the grass, examined the fences and went even so far as to invade
the cemeteries. Not a drop of blood nor a particle of cotton could be
found anywhere. Three boards of a fence were down at Argyle Street, but
there was no evidence that they had been removed for the purpose of
assisting men in the removal of a body. Efforts were made to find the
men who first discovered the trunk but without result. One man that
drove along the Evanston road an hour ahead of Alderman Chapman was
positive that it was not there at that time, while on the other hand the
alderman insisted that there were men at the spot for some time before
he happened along in his buggy.
It was six o'clock on Sunday evening when Officers Smith and Hayden
entered the station to report for their night's work. The instant Smith
entered the Captain's private room he declared that the bloody trunk
lying before him was the one he had seen in the carpenter's wagon when
he stood with his brother-officer at Clark and Diversey Streets in the
early morning.
Officer Hayden, when called in, was equally positive. At this moment the
news of Dr. Cronin's disappearance was received, and Captain Villiers
became intensely excited. The report that Dr. Cronin was missing under
the most alarming circumstances and the gory evidences of a murder lying
before him seemed to inspire the Captain with the belief that perhaps
the mystery surrounding the well-known doctor's disappearance had been
solved. He at once issued orders for a search for the mysterious wagon
and its occupants. He hurriedly drove over to O'Sullivan's and put the
ice man through a sharp examination. The latter, however, stuck to the
story he had told earlier in the day. He knew nothing but what he had
been told, he said; and his manner was so earnest, and his distress of
mind--to outward appearances--so intense, that the official took him at
his word.
"JUST LIKE HIS HAIR."
From the icehouse Captain Villiers drove to the home of the missing
physician. For hours the apartments had been thronged with visitors,
some waiting hour after hour, others coming and going, to hear the
latest intelligence of the search. Without apprising them of his
conjectures regarding the trunk the captain enquired as to the length of
Dr. Cronin's hair.
"He wore his hair much longer than men usually do," said Mrs. Conklin,
"and lately it had been quite long."
"Had he plenty of hair on the top of his head" the captain went on.
"Yes" replied some one in the room "and it was quite long."
[Illustration: MR. AND MRS. CONKLIN.]
The Chief then took from his pocket the scrap of paper containing the
lock of hair he had found in the trunk, and those present crowded around
and examined it closely. Some were inclined to believe that it resembled
that of the missing man, but were fearful of expressing a positive
opinion. At this juncture F. T. Scanlan, Jr., came into the room. He
took the lock of hair and fingered it for a moment, his face blanched,
and as he laid it down upon the table he ejaculated:
"That is just like his hair, yes, just like it."
There was a scream and a fall. One of the ladies present had fainted
away.
By this time Captain Villiers was fully convinced that the lock of hair
was destined to play an important part in the solution of the mystery.
At the same time he was desirous that the identification should be more
complete, or that the resemblance between the lock and the hair of the
missing man should be established by the testimony of those best
qualified to speak on the subject. Accordingly, bright and early on the
following morning he visited the tonsorial establishment one door north
of the Windsor theatre, where for years the physician had been in the
habit of getting shaved three or four times weekly. Here, however, his
theory encountered a set back. The proprietor, H. F. Wisch, was positive
that the hair had come from some other head than that of Dr. Cronin. In
this opinion he was supported by two of his employes. They had cut his
hair time and again, and they insisted that there could be no
possibility of their being mistaken when they said that the hair could
not have come from Dr. Cronin's head. The lock that they were asked to
identify was fully four inches long, and fine, while, so they contended,
the physician's hair was exceptionally coarse. Moreover--and this
appeared to be conclusive--his hair had been cut three days prior to his
disappearance and it would have been impossible that a lock four inches
in length could have been left on his head. So far as could be
remembered his head was trimmed to an average length of two inches. As
to color, there was something of a resemblance, although there was
enough apparent difference in shade to be noticeable when compared with
a few hairs taken from a hair brush that was kept for the doctor's
exclusive use. Mr. and Mrs. Conklin, however, took issue with Barber
Wisch on almost every point. The hair of their friend and tenant they
asserted, was long, soft and remarkably silky, while, moreover, it was
precisely of the same shade as the lock held by Captain Villiers. In the
face of these conflicting statements the latter very wisely concluded
that it would be useless to push this particular branch of the
investigation at that time, and the clue was consigned to a drawer of
the safe in the Lake View Station.
WAGON TRACKS LEAD TO THE WATER'S EDGE.
Meanwhile every available officer of the police force of the suburb,
reinforced by Captain Schaack and a number of city detectives and
officers, were searching high and low to discover the whereabouts of the
physician and to solve the mystery surrounding the bloody trunk. Captain
Schaack and his associates, after examining the locality of the find,
tramped over the ground for a mile around.
[Illustration: DETECTIVES INSPECTING THE SPOT WHERE THE TRUNK WAS
FOUND.]
While thus engaged a discovery was made that in the light of subsequent
events was of considerable importance. It was the tracks of a wagon in
the sandy road leading to the lake. Commencing at a point but a few
yards from the place where the trunk was dumped, the trail went
northwardly some three hundred yards, then turned to the side road and
went east to the water's edge. Here in the wet sand the indications of a
halt were quite plain. Thence, after following the beach about a hundred
yards, the tracks turned into what was known as the Wilson road, and
apparently proceeded southward to the city. It was impossible to
determine from appearances whether the ruts were a day or a week old,
for the high wind had blown the fine sand across the level beach in
great clouds. At this juncture, however, a special officer of the
village of Edgewater, and a watchman at the station, Wade by name, and
who had learned that the officers were inclined to connect the wagon
tracks with the trunk, told an interesting story.
"Early on Sunday morning," he said, "I was standing on Hollywood avenue,
just north of Bryn Mawr avenue, when I saw a team standing near the edge
of the lake. It was about 1:05, and I went to the team and asked a
fellow who stood near what he was doing there at that hour of the
night."
"We're looking for the Lake Shore drive," said he, "we want to get back
to town."
"The Lake Shore drive, man, is two miles from here," I said, "can't you
see there is no roadway here?"
"While I was talking a couple of fellows who had been walking along the
beach came up."
"Boys," said the first man, "this officer says we're away off the road."
"At this they all got into the wagon and drove west on Bryn Mawr avenue
until they reached the Evanston road. Then they started down Evanston
avenue at a rapid gait and I lost sight of them. I noticed a long square
box in the wagon, but it was very dark and I could not see plainly what
it was. The fellow I talked to, however, I'll recognize and identify
anywhere."
From a study of the surroundings, taken in connection with this story,
the conclusion was arrived at by the police authorities that the trunk
had been first taken to the lake, its contents thrown into the surf, and
that it was then brought back into the road and dumped into the ditch.
This, as was developed later, was the original intention of the
murderers. The point on the beach where the tracks showed that the
vehicle had made a halt was about as dreary and desolate a spot as could
be found in the country. Sandy, covered with heavy timber, and removed
nearly half a mile from a house or a shelter of any kind, it was just
the place that a man or a party of men with a murderous job on their
hands would have naturally selected.
To empty a trunk into the lake, or to dig a hole in the sand and drop a
human body in it, would have been the work of but a few minutes, and all
traces of the bloody crime might thus have been obliterated forever.
THE SEARCH REVEALS NOTHING.
For the next forty-eight hours the efforts of the authorities were
re-doubled. All the livery stables on the north side of the city were
visited for the purpose of ascertaining if a white horse and vehicle, as
described by Mrs. Conklin and Frank Scanlan, had been rented out on the
previous Saturday. Several white horses were owned by the liverymen in
that section, but all, apparently, were satisfactorily accounted for.
The one man, who, had he so chosen, could, by answering the question in
the affirmative, have solved at least this portion of the mystery,
preferred to hold his peace for the time being. Scores of men and boys
waded through the pond in the German Catholic Cemetery, the river in the
vicinity was dragged, nearly every sewer and sluice box in the city of
Lake View was examined, and even the clay holes--which were as plentiful
thereabouts as reefs in Lake Michigan--were hunted from end to end. As a
last resort, and at the earnest solicitation of friends of Dr. Cronin,
the Chicago River was dredged for a distance of six hundred feet at
Fullerton avenue bridge, over which the wagon with the trunk was
supposed to have crossed. This task, conducted by Captain Schaack and
eight officers, occupied two days. Like the search in every other
direction, however, it was utterly without result. The physician had
disappeared as completely as though the earth had opened and swallowed
him up, and the mystery of the trunk and its gory contents remained a
mystery still.