_How big house robberies are planned--The up-to-date burglar--The
fine art of crime--The brutal assaults that are paid for--How a man is
marked--An assault that became murder._
|THE crimes of London are the crimes of humanity plus those of a great
city. There are amateur criminals and professional criminals. The
amateur criminal is the man or woman who yields to a sudden impulse
or the stress of circumstance. The professional criminal is the man or
woman who makes a business of crime, and practises it for the purpose of
profit.
Education and modern invention have brought our methods of crime to a
fine art, and there are criminal organizations which, having brains
and capital behind them, are able to realize immense sums annually for
division among the partners.
The mystery of many a jewel-robbery which startles the public and
baffles the police would be solved if what has long been suspected could
only be proved--namely, the existence in London of a system of planting
confederates--male and female--in the houses of the wealthy as domestic
servants.
The servant so planted is always well-behaved, and inspires the
greatest confidence. He or she comes with a personal character that is
irreproachable. Let us take an example of the methods resorted to to
"place" a confederate.
"A lady going abroad wishes to find a situation for her footman, whom
she can thoroughly recommend. Address in the first instance by letter,"
etc.
The desire to secure a footman who can be thoroughly recommended induces
a number of ladies to write.
From the applications sent in, the best addresses are selected, rapid
inquiries are made of tradespeople and others, and the lady whose house
it is believed will best suit the purpose of the thieves is communicated
with.
The footman, who is in league with a band of expert jewel-thieves, is
a trained servant. It is necessary that he should be so to retain the
place long enough for the plans of the gang to be matured.
He soon finds out the ways of his employers and the whereabouts of
the "stuff" that is desired. The rest is easy. He communicates all
the necessary information to his colleagues, gives them notice of the
arrival of a favourable opportunity, leaves everything arranged to
facilitate a noiseless entry into the premises, and has nothing further
to do with the "job." These jewel robberies generally take place in the
evening, while the family are at dinner at home, or dining out, or at
the theatre. No one has any suspicion of the footman. He always arranges
to be with the other servants as much as possible at the time the
robbery is being skilfully effected.
The lady's maid is a favourite "plant" servant, and is sometimes more
useful to the gang than the footman. The lady's maid has frequently
possession of her mistress's keys, and she is able to take a "squeeze"
of any key that may be required by the burglars, who want to go to work
noiselessly and expeditiously.
The "squeeze" is taken by pressing the key in a piece of specially
prepared wax. With this impression in his possession, the intending
thief can have a similar key made at once. He sometimes comes at the
favourable hour armed, not only with a key of the safe or cabinet in
which the jewel-case is kept, but with the key of the front door as
well. He lets himself in quietly while the family are out, and the
servants are downstairs, goes straight to the room in which the
jewellery is, unlocks the safe or cabinet, and is out of the house with
the plunder in a few minutes.
By obtaining a "squeeze" of a key in an office in which a number of
clerks were actually sitting at the time, a safe was once opened while
in transit on the South-Eastern Railway, which contained bullion to the
value of many thousands of pounds, and the whole of it was successfully
carried away.
Some of the biggest jewel-robberies that take place in London are
planned, not as they used to be, in low dens and thieves' kitchens or
taverns of evil reputation, but in luxuriously furnished houses and
elegant flats. When you have made a five or ten thousand pound haul, it
is much safer to drive home to a good address with the plunder in your
smartly appointed brougham than go off with it in a four-wheel cab to a
shabby neighbourhood across the water. The tools necessary for the job
can also be carried with more safety in a brougham, and if you have an
elegantly attired lady beside you dressed in ball costume, and blazing
with jewellery, no policeman is likely to stop your carriage at 4 a.m.
to inquire if you have been breaking into a jeweller's shop or a diamond
merchant's office.
The expert bank-robber of to-day opens an account at the bank he intends
to victimize. Sometimes he has been a customer of the establishment
for months before he risks the trick by which the clerk of another bank
doing business at the counter is robbed of thousands of pounds' worth
of notes. The expert does not do the stealing himself; he merely engages
the clerk behind the counter in conversation, and covers the operations
of a confederate. This confederate is occasionally attired in the
correct costume of a bank-messenger.
The profession of crime to-day has in its ranks men whose manners are
those of the diplomatist, whose get-up is faultless, and whose fertility
of resource would enable them to make a good living by honest means. But
they have become captains of crime, and they prey upon society with a
keen enjoyment of the sport.
Some of them carry on their operations upon the strictest business
principles. They have their agents in the big cities of the Continent,
they speak several languages, and travel about the world. They belong to
an international society of malefactors which has frequently in hand
at the same time a big job in London, another in Paris, a third in New
York, and a fourth in Vienna. They travel first class, put up at the
best hotels, and are delightful companions if you get acquainted with
them in the railway train or on board ship. Occasionally they combine
skill at cards with their other accomplishments, and during the American
touring season they travel to and fro on the big liners and make a very
fine thing of it.
One of the most dangerous of the fraternity--a man with a world-wide
reputation for villainy--was at one time a near neighbour of mine in
Regent's Park. He made such a sensation eventually in London that it was
thought that a period of retirement would be beneficial to his health
and to the welfare of the community. He is now resting, but if he would
in his leisure write a truthful account of his adventures in America,
London, Australia, Monte Carlo, and Paris, it would be the most
thrilling romance of crime that has ever been given to the world.
In a recent celebrated case the Judge described a woman as a Princess of
Evil, and said that she had hypnotized wealthy men, and so inspired them
with confidence in her.
There are women who have hypnotized men of wealth and position so
successfully that they have married half a dozen at short intervals, and
acquired possession by that means, not only of family jewels and large
sums of money, but of family papers and family secrets, and have found a
means of compelling the tricked "husband" to hold his peace, even after
the character of the "wife" was discovered.
One woman, not particularly good-looking or in any way captivating,
married four wealthy men within two years, quitting each bridegroom "at
the church door"--as the melodramas have it; and she drew large sums
of money from all of them. This "Princess of Evil" married two of the
husbands in London, one in France, and one in America. When one of
the London husbands, having discovered that he was a free man, married
again, she threatened him with a charge of bigamy unless he paid her a
large sum of money.
She might have had the audacity to keep her threats had not her victim
had the good sense to write and inform her that if she made any further
attempt to annoy him, he would instantly place the matter in the hands
of the police, and put up with the unpleasant publicity.
The body of a finely built man was found floating a year or two ago
in the Thames with a rope round the neck. A lady, some time after the
description of the man had been given in the papers, and the body had
been buried as unidentified, came forward and revealed the fact that the
man was her husband. She urged that he had been murdered by the friends
of another woman whom he had recently married. The two women had met and
condoled with each other. The second wife brought an action for nullity,
but the first stated by her counsel in open court that she would give no
evidence, as her husband had always been good to her. It was after the
trial that the man disappeared, and was never seen again until he was
taken lifeless from the river, where it was conjectured he had been
lying for some weeks.
How the man got into the Thames with a rope round his neck was never
discovered. It remains a mystery to this day.
It is not likely that the relatives of the second wife had anything to
do with the crime, for they were people in a good social position, and
came into open court with the story of the wrong done their kinswoman.
But if a rich person _did_ want vengeance wreaked upon an enemy, there
are ways and means of bringing it about without any active part being
taken by the aggrieved parties.
There are men ready and willing to do anything for a consideration,
and more than one brutal assault, which has ended in the death of the
victim, and been put down to "hooligans," has been a crime planned and
paid for by people of means.
The commissioned crime is a feature of modern London, and it is rarely
that the mystery surrounding it is solved.
Let us look in for a moment at a well-known West End bar, much
frequented by young men about town, racing men, and certain members of
the prize-ring who are well in with the people who make a business of
sport. Some of the habitués are gossiping and drinking at the bar or
sitting at the little tables. Among them are men of good position in the
sporting world, but there are also card-sharpers and tricksters. One
or two are pugilists who go to race-meetings to look after or "mind"
bookmakers who carry large sums of ready money about with them. Some of
these men are respectable and doing well, and would not mix themselves
up with a criminal "job." But there are others who are not too
particular, provided there is a good chance of doing a "crooked" thing
profitably and safely.
One of these men, who is so well in with a certain class of thieves
that he can always get back for a consideration a valuable article of
jewellery that has been stolen, is standing at the bar drinking, and
apparently taking no notice of anyone. But as a matter of fact he is
keeping his eye on a young "swell" who is sitting at a little table,
talking loudly and boastingly to a man in evening dress who belongs to
the cleverest gang of card-sharpers in London.
The young "swell" has come into possession of a fortune, and is seeing
life. He is plunging on the turf, and playing cards for large stakes.
The sharp is going to ask him to his flat--quite a first-class flat in
the West End--and he is going to be "rooked" of a large sum of money.
The man leaning against the bar is studying this young fellow. He has
only been put on the job that night, and has been told to come to this
bar and make himself thoroughly acquainted with the features of the
quarry.
The man who has got a "flat" wants to keep his "find."
He doesn't want him to fall into the hands of a rival gang. So he has
put a spy on to watch, and inform him if any overtures are made to the
"pigeon" by any other members of the "flash mob."
The spy has studied his man carefully, and will know him again anywhere.
So he finishes his drink and leaves the bar. He is instantly followed by
a well-dressed man of about forty.
Out in the street the well-dressed man comes abreast of the spy, and
says, "Jack, I've got a job for you." Details follow, and the spy is
commissioned to find two or three men who will brutally assault a person
named at the first convenient opportunity. A plan is agreed upon, and
terms arranged. So much for the go-between, so much down to the men
engaged, and a large sum to divide among them when the assault has been
brought off. Particulars of the person who is to be assaulted, details
of his habits, and the place and time at which he is most likely to be
caught alone, are given, and the conspirators separate.
Let us now look in at a dirty, ill-lighted beer-house in a gloomy street
in one of the most criminal areas of London.
Half a dozen roughs are drinking and smoking in the tap-room. To them
enters the man I have called the spy. He asks two of them to come
outside with him, and he offers them the job. He satisfies them that the
money is right, and guarantees it, for in these cases the principal is
never seen. The men engaged know they can accept the guarantee, because
if they were bested, the life of the guarantor wouldn't be worth an
hour's purchase.
A week later a gentleman returning from town by the last train alights
at a Thames-side station. He sets out to walk to his residence. His way
lies along a quiet, deserted road.
Someone passing along that road in the small hours finds a man lying
insensible on the footpath. He has evidently been brutally knocked
about, robbed, and left for dead.
Help is secured, and a doctor endeavours to restore consciousness, but
the victim dies without uttering a word.
The deed is put down to footpads, who probably met the gentleman and
assaulted him in order to rob him. Every effort is made to trace the
guilty men, but without success. The few people who have noticed a trap
being driven along the road to London would not connect it with the
hired ruffians who committed this midnight crime.
But this assault, which resulted in murder, was commissioned and paid
for by a man of means who had a grudge against the victim. This man
reads the account of the murder, and is perhaps a little alarmed. He
didn't wish it to go as far as that. But he is quite safe. None of the
men who assisted in the crime, either passively or actively, are likely
to come forward and make any revelations. They have their own necks to
think of.
The crime of "bashing"--that is the professional name for it--is far
commoner than the peaceful citizens of London imagine. To commit a
brutal assault for hire is a means of livelihood practised by certain
gangs of ruffians who have their regular haunts and houses of call,
where they "attend" to get the "office" of any job that may be going.
A large number of the crimes attributed to hooligans are deliberate
plots of this kind. Money is not always the consideration. Sometimes it
is good comradeship. A respectable elderly shopkeeper was waylaid and
stabbed to death in the Borough a year or two ago. The police could find
no motive for the crime, but the mystery was solved eventually by the
confession of a young man undergoing five years penal servitude.
The victim had made complaints to the police of a woman, a neighbour,
which caused her to be summoned and fined.
The son of the woman was the leader of a gang of young roughs who
infested the Borough. He called his band together, and sentence of death
was passed upon the "informer." It was many weeks before the old man was
out late enough to give the band a chance of executing their captain's
orders. But directly the chance came they committed the murder entrusted
to them.
In a busy little street leading to a broad West End thoroughfare there
is a shop in which a legitimate business is carried on. There is a back
shop, divided by a partition from the front, to which special customers
go to select from the stock that is kept there; and beyond is an inner
office.
The proprietor of the establishment is the head of one of the biggest
criminal organizations in London. In that little back shop and that
inner office some of the most skilful forgeries of modern times
have been arranged. Each member of the gang is a specialist. One, a
good-looking young fellow, gets to know servant-maids, and learns
from them particulars of their masters' habits. Another frequents
billiard-rooms, and gets in with City clerks. Another opens an account
at the bank on which the forged cheque is to be drawn, and receives a
cheque-book. Then the skilled hands are set to work. One man will fill
in the cheque for a large amount, another will forge the signature to
it, and the third will drive up in a hurry just as the bank is closing
and present it.
The money secured, the man who cashed the cheque passes the proceeds to
a confederate who is waiting for him, and takes a train out of London at
once. He will receive his share of the plunder by post, and remain at
a discreet distance until the hue and cry is over. The gentleman who
opened the account and got a cheque-book and drew his balance down to
nothing the day before the _coup_ was brought off, will probably go
away too. But the man who plans and finances burglaries, forgeries,
confidence tricks, and swindles on wholesale lines, will remain in town
and carry on the business of his highly respectable shop without feeling
a moment's anxiety.
The police may have their own ideas about him, but he is much too clever
to let them get a scrap of evidence that would connect him with the
exploits of the gang of which he is the life and soul.
The wholesale distribution of forged bank-notes which ended in the
sensational suicide at the Old Bailey of the principal in the business,
was arranged and worked from a room above a little shop in one of
the busiest streets of a crowded area. The men who were distributing
thousands of forged bank-notes about the country came here for their
"parcels" in broad daylight, and passed out with them under the very
eyes of the police. On one occasion there were so many people blocking
the pavement to look at things exhibited in the shop window that a
police-constable had to clear a path for a man with a pocket full of
forged bank-notes to pass away with them.
The gang might have continued to circulate the notes with impunity, but
for the treachery of a comrade, who betrayed them.
The chief of the gang, though in custody, determined to be revenged
upon the informer. He managed to communicate with a woman. She made a
beefsteak pie, and in this pie concealed a loaded revolver. The revolver
was wrapped up in greaseproof paper.
The pie was delivered to the prisoner when he was being tried at the Old
Bailey. He took the revolver into court with him, intending to shoot
the informer. But the chance he hoped for was denied him, so when he
was sentenced to a long term of penal servitude, the convict put the
revolver to his own head and shot himself dead.
How a prisoner kept in close custody could obtain a loaded revolver and
carry it with him into the dock was for a long time an unsolved mystery.
I learnt the truth standing in the room where the pie was made. It is
this fertility of resource which enables the modern criminal to outwit
the modern detective, and makes mysterious the ways of crime.