Upon my leaving the house in the morning, Miss Williams had seized her
sister by the arm and ran romping with her through the rooms to the
dining room, and without waiting to remove her hat had sat down at the
table and drank some coffee, talking to Nannie the while. She had
asked her what time I had reached the house the preceding evening, to
which question Nannie answered that she did not know, as I was at home
when she had herself returned, thus giving the impression that I had
been there during the night.
After finishing her lunch, Minnie had passed into her own room, had
exchanged her street costume for a house dress, and then, in going to
the front portion of the house, had passed through my room, and in
doing so had noticed that it had not been occupied during the night.
With this one thought in her disordered mind she had rushed into the
adjoining room where her sister then sat, and in a voice, which only
the very few who have been intimately acquainted with Miss Williams can
appreciate and understand the tragedy of, had said:
“You devil! You have stolen my husband from me.”
At the same time she had struck her sister with a small foot-stool,
causing her to fall to the floor, where, with hardly a struggle, she
had ceased to breathe.
Miss Williams had, at the first moment, run to the lower portion of the
house for assistance, but the people being absent for the time being,
she had returned, and at first thinking her sister had only fainted,
had resorted to all the means of which she knew to resuscitate her. She
soon found her efforts useless, and from then until I had arrived, had
remained in the position in which I found her.
After this came the terrible question of what steps should be taken. It
is useless for me to speak now of what should have been done. What was
finally decided upon is as follows:—
I first wished to call in the authorities and explain fully, and
also have it known that at the moment the act was committed Miss
Williams was not accountable for what she had done. She would not
listen to this. Next, I suggested that it should appear that death had
resulted from an accidental fall, but to any and all propositions that
necessitated a court investigation she would hear nothing, begging me
to go to Englewood, and with Patrick Quinlan’s aid take the body to
some quiet place and bury it.
Finding that the discussion was worrying her into another serious
condition, I gave her some medicine, and as soon as I could do so
safely, I left her, intending to go to Englewood, and did go as far as
Twenty-second street.
There were some reasons why this last mentioned course would have been
advantageous, as it was not generally known that I was living with Miss
Williams as her husband; and those who did know of it did not know my
identity, and to have this matter known, as well as the death of her
sister under such distressing circumstances, would have occasioned an
amount of notoriety that would have been ruinous to me.
But as I rode towards Englewood, I could see good reasons for not using
Quinlan in the matter. His loyalty to me was such that I should not
have feared his making it public, but I did not think I had a right to
burden him with so terrible a secret.
In fact, it was by never asking him to do any act that he could be held
accountable for or that would jeopardize his property that the loyal
feeling had been caused to exist.
Leaving the cars at Twenty-second street, I returned to the house,
finding Miss Williams still asleep; later we clothed her sister in a
light dress she had liked to wear, and taking the large trunk she had
brought with her from Texas, I placed her therein as carefully as I
could.
No funeral rites were observed; no prayers were said, for I felt that
from either of us such would have been a mockery. I also took her
small, well-worn Bible (this without Miss Williams’ knowledge) and
later consigned it with her to her last resting place, which was all I
felt at liberty to do. I then went to a livery stable and obtained a
covered conveyance, stopping upon my return at the car barns near by,
where there were many workmen waiting to take the cars. I engaged one
of them to accompany me to the house and help me place the trunk in the
carriage.
I then drove to the lake-side, and waited until night had fallen,
making it appear to parties noticing me, if any, that I was awaiting
the return of some belated boating party. Afterwards, I procured a boat
at some distance, and took it near my waiting place, and still later,
with considerable difficulty, I placed the trunk in it, and proceeded
about one mile from the shore.
There in the darkness, passed beyond the sight of this world, into the
ever grasping depths of Lake Michigan, all that was mortal of this
beautiful Christian girl; but from my sight it has never passed, nor
has there been a day, an hour, since that awful night that I would not
have given my life if by doing so that of Nannie Williams could have
been returned.
Upon coming towards the shore I thought it wise to deposit the trunk
upon another and more remote portion of the beach. I did this, and,
after returning the boat, drove away, and later came back for the trunk.
Upon reaching the house I found Miss Williams more at ease. She had
occupied her mind during my absence by collecting and placing in
Nannie’s room all of her belongings, even those of her own things that
her sister had used. She was inclined to talk to me and plan for the
future, but for this I had no heart, and little by little, as often as
I could do so without exciting her again, I told her that our life
together was ended.
I did not do this with anger, and agreed to guard her secret so long as
it did not place my own life in danger. The housekeeping was broken up,
and very shortly thereafter Mr. Hatch took her to Milwaukee, where she
remained in a private institution until later in the summer. The cause
that had produced her unsound mental condition had been removed.
Hatch did not know of her sister’s death for months afterward, and then
against my advice was it told to him, he supposing she had returned to
her Texas friends. All of the things that Minnie had separated from
her own were packed and taken to Englewood and were placed in a room
in the second story, where they were kept for several weeks until I
could obtain time to dispose of them, when I assorted some of them
and gave them to Pitezel, telling him that they were some that Miss
Williams had sent to his children. All the others were burned in the
large stove in the third-story office, and this I plainly told the
Philadelphia authorities in the fall of 1894, and all the subsequent
excitement occurred as a direct result of a visit made there by their
representative in verification of my statement.
Another trunk, containing pictures and books, was not taken from the
express company owing to a mistake in charges, though Miss Williams
supposed this had also been disposed of, and this was the one later
returned to Fort Worth. Before going to Milwaukee, Miss Williams was in
such a nervous condition that only one important step was taken, which
was that her people in the South should suppose that she, together with
her husband and sister, had gone to Europe or elsewhere, this being
made easier inasmuch as some talk had been had earlier of a short fall
trip abroad if money matters would allow it.
At about this time there occurred a very severe lake storm, July 18,
1893, doing much damage and it was hoped they would conclude that
all had perished during this storm. Certain it is that Miss Williams
wrote no more letters to her friends and did not appear publicly in
Chicago, if possible to avoid it, in order to carry out this idea, but
fortunately for my (our) present safety there are, as I shall show
later, several instances when she did appear and in my company.
While she was in Milwaukee, I did what I could to arrange our business
affairs so that neither she nor myself should suffer loss, it being
impossible for her to make new transfers of a later date or to go
to Texas without abandoning the idea of deceiving her friends there
regarding her existence.
I was determined, too, as soon as possible, to sever all my relations
with her, deeming it unsafe to continue them, and from time to time I
encouraged Hatch in his attentions to her, which he was more willing to
bestow than she to accept.
Just here it would not be amiss to return to an exciting incident,
which lasted some days, in connection with one of my insurance cases.
It happened shortly after the death of my medical friend and former
college chum.
The sad announcement of his death—for to me it was a sad one—set me
to thinking. I began to seriously consider the chances of my carrying
out the plans which my old friend and I had spent so many anxious days
and nights in perfecting. The prospect was a good one, and I desired,
and finally determined, to carry at least one of them to a conclusion,
single-handed and alone. No person was to be in my confidence, and I
set to work getting my scheme in order.
Some time previous to this I had, while in Minneapolis, insured my life
for $20,000 in favor of my wife. Failure in this one instance, where
my friend was concerned, made a desperate man of me. I determined to
succeed at any cost. The prospective profits in the work were most
alluring. The chance for detection, of course, must be guarded against,
and the contingencies of all other serious accidents which might arise,
and make exposure certain, had to be taken into consideration.
Upon figuring up what the gross proceeds had been in similar
operations, the result showed me that, with the very modest outlay
of $3,950, they aggregated $68,700. This work one can easily see was
profitable beyond any legitimate work that might be entered into.
The assessments having been paid up on my recent $20,000 policy to and
including the month of June, 1887, I thought that it was time to bring
this case to a close.
In order to realize the $20,000 before September 1st, I accordingly
went to Chicago and had a long conversation with an acquaintance of a
year before, who was an assistant at —— Medical College, over certain
details of my proposed work.
However, I found it more difficult to obtain a body that would prove a
substitute for my own. I had a “cow-lick” which could not be imitated
by artificial means, and it was absolutely necessary to get a subject
so favored by nature, and I had a most gloomy wait, lasting about two
weeks, going to the dead room of the college each morning to inspect
the “arrivals,” which had come in during the preceding twenty-four
hours.
Finally, my patience was rewarded, about May 20th, when I was informed
that a man had been killed accidentally falling from a freight car. The
body in due time arrived, and after making a most minute and critical
examination of it, I determined that it was just what I required for my
purpose. Satisfactory arrangements having been made with the hospital
for my possession of the subject, I started out to ascertain the best
way to have it moved.
It was here that a chain of most extraordinary and gruesomely
interesting circumstances began. All the precautions that the mind can
conceive and the body execute had to be brought into execution. No
chance for detection now could be entertained. No loophole for surprise
and discomfiture was to be left uncovered; and I had to do all that was
vitally necessary to this end alone.
Knowing that I had a most trustworthy friend in a certain expressman, I
at once repaired to his abode. My surprise and discomfiture were great.
He was dead. He had died some time previously. All hope for assistance
in that quarter, naturally, had to be given up.
From inquiries I made of the janitor of the college, I learned that
a certain expressman in the neighborhood could be employed for the
purpose I desired, as he had on former occasions been hired for
“outside work” by some of the men in the institution.
I called at this man’s address, and after seeing him I stated my
business. “How much will you charge me for taking a body from ——
College to Polk Street Station?” I asked.
“Five dollars,” was the reply this man gave me.
This price being satisfactory to me, we started for the place where
I had ordered a trunk to be made according to a special design. This
trunk was one of more than ordinary large size, and externally it
resembled one of those iron-bound, burglar-proof arrangements jewelry
salesmen call sample cases. Inside, the construction was of a very
elaborate nature.
The greater portion of it being occupied by a large zinc box of
sufficient dimensions to allow a man to occupy it by doubling his
joints, where doubling was necessary. This was fitted by a lid of wood
to deaden any sound that might be caused through the possible rattling
of the ice, which was to surround the inner box. The entire trunk was
made water-proof, but who knows how it could travel on a railroad train
without undergoing severe usage, and possible demolition?
The trunk was taken to the college, the body placed in it with the aid
of the expressman, who did not seem to relish that sort of work. He
seemed to weaken at times, and once or twice I noticed him grow pale.
After the trunk was carefully packed and ready for conveyance to the
station, we found that it was almost too early to remove it.
After standing about for some time, the Jehu grew more courageous,
inasmuch as he gazed through a few inverted liquor glasses when their
contents were amber-lined. He said:—
“I can’t do this job for $5.”
“Why not?” I asked, very much surprised.
“Because, if I make a hearse of my wagon and personally act as
combination driver, undertaker and pall-bearer, I must have $35. If I
don’t get that sum, I shall inform the police that all is not right.”
Of course I expostulated with the man, and resorting, as often before,
to my sugar-and-fly policy, I placated him, gave him $5 in cash and
promised the other $30 when we reached the station.
This was all right, for he said if I did not pay he would have me
arrested instantly.
In due course of time the trunk was carted to the Illinois Central
Station, and, after having it placed on the platform, the driver turned
to me and demanded the $30 forthwith.
This was the chance I had been waiting for.
“I shall not give you another cent,” said I.
“Oh, yes, you will!”
“Besides, I have a mind to demand the return of the $5 from you for
attempting to extort money from me.”
“You would stand a great chance of getting it, too. Now, give me $30 or
to the ‘cops’ I go.”
“You may go, but first listen to me and answer my questions. Did you
not, in the presence of the janitor and myself, help place the corpse
in the trunk? Did you not haul it here? Have you not assisted me in all
this work?”
“Yes, I have.”
“That man was murdered. Speak a word about it to any one, and I will
have you arrested as an accessory to his murder.”
The driver was evidently very much frightened, as his eyes widened and
bulged, and his hair began to assume a perpendicular position.
“The body must go in the lake,” I continued, “and let the waves bury it
forever from human sight. I hope you understand me.”
Then he told me that he did not want any more money, and as I knew his
address, he would always be at my service at any future time.
Having purchased my ticket for the timber lands of Michigan, I checked
my trunk, and it began its adventurous trip North.
Everything had gone along as well as I could have wished until our
train was nearing Grand Rapids. My attention was attracted to a group
of trainmen standing about a trunk in the baggage section which
occupied the forward part of the smoker in which I was traveling.
I got up and looked closer, and was almost stricken dumb with horror
when I saw that it was my trunk, and that the men were talking as
though they suspected something wrong with it.
I immediately changed my plans about going North directly, and was in
a feverish state of excitement when we reached Grand Rapids. As soon
as the trunk was deposited in the baggage room, I went in as though to
claim it. As I did so, I noticed a stranger looking at me and on the
trunk in a manner which made me feel quite uncomfortable. I pretended
not to notice him, and thereby got a better chance to study him. I
soon concluded that he was a Secret Service man, and that I had been
“spotted.”
Realizing that some decisive and telling action was necessary at this
time, I stepped to the telegraph office and wired myself at the hotel,
as follows:—
“Holmes. Look after my trunk, which left Chicago this morning.
(Signed) HARVEY.”
The initial “H” was the same as that on my trunk, and when I got to
the hotel, I showed the clerk the telegram, which he held for me,
and engaged communicating rooms for Harvey and myself, with a bath
attachment. I sent a porter for the trunk, and after seeing it in the
rooms, I then learned the cause which attracted the attention of the
trainmen to it. My suspicions had been confirmed, for an awful odor
emanated from the trunk, and I then knew that the man had been dead
longer than the college attendants stated, and, also, that I had been
imposed upon.
Fearing that such a contingency might arise, I formulated a plan while
on the smoking car of transferring the body from the Chicago trunk to
another, which I should purchase.
After locking my room carefully, I started out to look for a suitable
trunk, but stopped long enough to tell the clerk that my baggage would
be on hand in the course of an hour or so. It was growing toward
evening, and I had but little time to spare.
After looking about for a short while, I soon got a used trunk that
suited my purpose quite well. I ordered the lock to be changed on it,
and while this was being done I made several trips to a couple of
plumbing shops and bought a considerable quantity of old lead pipe. I
had this cut up into suitable lengths, and made into packages. I made
several trips to the trunk store, and each time I placed a package of
the heavy material in the new trunk, after which I had it sent to my
room at the hotel. This was done to make it appear that it was filled
with my effects.
The day had been warm, and the night also promised to be sultry. No
time was to be lost in getting things in order and to guard against
surprises.
During my several trips to the trunk store I noticed the man I first
saw at the Grand Rapids Station was looking after me, and I was placed
on my guard.
As I said, the night was going to be warm; I knew that it would be but
a short time until all the floor I occupied would be permeated with the
odor from my friend in the trunk.
I went out again and secured a water-proof hunting bag, and carried a
considerable amount of ice to the room, which I placed in the bath tub.
I then took the lead pipe from my new trunk and laid it beside the
first one in the adjoining room.
While doing this work the atmosphere became so stifling that I had to
hoist the window. This window opened out on the roof of a porch, and by
the time that was done it had grown quite dark.