was working very hard to secure the Congressional nomination, but that
he seemed very much troubled about some other matter. He had changed his
mind about going West, and had asked Miller to go to Galveston, Texas,
with him, in case he failed to get the nomination. Although he still had
hosts of friends, he did not confide his plans to any one except Miller.
This showed me that there would be but little probability that Pattmore
would come to Chicago without Miller's knowledge. That same evening
Miller sent me a telegram stating that Pattmore had just received a long
letter, evidently from Mrs. Thayer; on reading it he had shown great
excitement, and had afterwards become gloomy and dejected to an unusual
degree. Miller wished to know whether I had any special instructions
about the letter. As this was the letter which Miss Seaton had secured
the day before, I replied that he need not trouble himself about it, but
that he must keep a close watch upon Pattmore, and endeavor to retain
him in Greenville as long as possible.
By the early mail next morning I received a letter from Dr. Stuart, of
Greenville; having finished the work upon which he had been engaged, he
had begun the analysis of Mrs. Pattmore's bowels; he said that he would
let me know the result within a few days.
The whole affair was now gradually drawing to a focus, and I felt
confident of a successful termination. I therefore instructed Mrs. Warne
to describe me to Mrs. Thayer, and to say that I was watching her
movements constantly.
About nine o'clock that morning Mrs. Thayer went out as usual with Miss
Seaton, and they proceeded straight to Lucille's rooms. They were the
first arrivals, and Mrs. Thayer was admitted to Lucille's presence at
once; but Miss Seaton immediately went back to her boarding-house, as I
wished to have Mrs. Thayer return home alone. Mrs. Thayer was in a more
impressionable state than ever before. The day was dark and lowering,
showing every sign of an approaching storm; outside there had been the
noisy bustle of active business life, while within the limits of
Lucille's mystic chamber all was hushed in a deathly silence. The
monotonous swinging of the lamps, the perfume-laden air, the ghastly
skeletons, and the imperious bearing and powerful will of Lucille--all
struck upon her imagination with resistless force. As she sank into the
seat which Lucille pointed out, she felt like a criminal entering the
prisoner's dock for trial. She felt that she must relieve herself from
her load of guilt or she would forever suffer the torments of remorse.
"Well, my child," said Lucille, in her most solemn tones, "to-day you
have come to learn all, and I trust that you have nerved yourself to
sustain the revelations which I have to make. I have been through many
difficulties and terrible dangers since I last saw you, and a very sad
story has been laid before me. Your situation is one of great peril, and
upon your own decision this day will rest your hopes of happiness
hereafter. Still, you must not be cast down; if you will only resolve to
do what is right, your sorrows will gradually pass away, while health
and happiness will steadily return to you. Your worst crime was the
destruction of your unborn child, for that was a sin against nature
herself; but true repentance will save you from the effects of that sin,
further than you have already suffered."
This was the first time Lucille had mentioned the fact that she knew of
the abortion; yet it seemed perfectly natural to Mrs. Thayer that
Lucille should know it; hence, beyond turning very pale at the memory of
her suffering, she did not manifest any special emotion on hearing
Lucille's words.
The sibyl continued speaking as she gazed, first at Mrs. Thayer's hand,
and then at the chart:
"This man, whom you so wrongly love, does not return you the affection
of a true husband; he loves you only for selfish, sensual purposes; he
will fondle you as a plaything for a few years, and then he will cast
you off for a younger and more handsome rival, even as he has already
put away his first wife for your sake. If you do not give him up now,
some day he will throw you aside or trample you under foot. Think you he
will fear to do in the future what he has done in the past? When he
wearies of you, have you any doubt that he will murder you _as he has
already murdered his wife_?"
Lucille had spoken in a rapid, sibilant whisper, leaning forward so as
to bring her eyes directly before Mrs. Thayer's face, and the effect was
electrical. Mrs. Thayer struggled for a moment, as if she would rise,
and then fell back and burst into tears. This was a fortunate relief,
since she would have fainted if she had not obtained some mode of escape
for her pent-up feelings. Seeing that there was no further danger of
overpowering Mrs. Thayer, as long as she was able to cry, Lucille
continued:
"Yes, the heartless villain murdered his wife by poisoning her. I can
see it all as it occurred; it is a dreadful scene, yet I know that it
must be true--a woman of middle age is lying in bed; she has evidently
been very handsome, but now she shows signs of a long illness; your
lover, her husband, enters, and he wishes to give her some medicine; but
see, she motions him away, though she is unable to speak; she must know
that he is going to poison her; yet she cannot help herself, and the
nurse does not suspect his design. Now he has given her the poison, and
she is writhing in an agony of pain. He professes to be much afflicted,
and, oh, heavens! with the treachery of Judas, he attempts to kiss her!
Now it is all over; with one last, reproachful look, she has passed to
that land where 'the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at
rest.' She is dead, _and her husband is her murderer_."
"Oh! for God's sake, spare me, spare me!" exclaimed Mrs. Thayer, between
her sobs. "I cannot listen to the description of such a death-bed scene
without horror. I know I have been very guilty, but I shall try to make
amends in the future. Have pity on me, I beg of you, and do not
overwhelm me with such terrible scenes."
"You must hear all," said Lucille, firmly. "There are two more acts in
this tragedy to which you must listen; the first is a weird scene in a
church-yard by night, and the clear starlight only half reveals the
actors; there are three men engaged in digging at this woman's grave;
yes, even in death, her body cannot rest in peace. Near by lies the
corpse of another woman, whose cold, white face is turned up mutely to
the silent stars; now the men reach the coffin and try to drag it from
the grave. What is their object? Ah! I see! they wish to substitute one
corpse for the other, so that the poison will never be discovered in
case of an inquest upon the body of the murdered woman. Suddenly three
other men rush upon the grave-diggers before they have been able to pull
the coffin from the grave; a chase ensues, and pistol-shots are fired;
but finally the resurrectionists escape, though they have been foiled
in their purpose. The last scene is the inquest: the coffin is brought
in, but the murderer dare not look upon the face of his victim; a sham
investigation is held, and he is cleared by the verdict of the jury; but
other watchful eyes have been regarding the proceedings; keen detectives
have been at work, and they now step in, unknown to the public, and take
quiet possession of the corpse; the stomach is removed for analysis, and
a chemist of great reputation takes charge of it; poison has been found;
positive proof of your lover's guilt have been obtained, and he will
suffer the penalty of his crime. You also are in danger, but if you tell
the truth, you will be saved."
As Lucille impetuously placed before Mrs. Thayer the occurrences which
my investigations had disclosed, it seemed to the latter as if she were
the victim of a horrible nightmare. She felt that she was surrounded by
unseen foes, who were gradually tightening the toils in which she and
Pattmore had become entangled. She was neither brave nor
self-sacrificing; she had a sensitive dread of exposure, trial, and
punishment, which was aggravated by a knowledge of guilt and an
uncertainty as to the extent to which she had become legally liable;
also, she had none of the spirit of devoted affection which sometimes
prompts a woman to bear the greatest hardships for the sake of the man
she loves; hence, she was ready to do anything to save herself, even at
the expense of Pattmore's life. As Lucille concluded her terrible
recital, Mrs. Thayer shrieked in an agony of remorse and fear:
"Oh, have mercy on me! I am lost! I am lost! Tell me what I can do to
escape punishment; I will obey you wholly--I will do anything you tell
me. Oh, save me, save me! I know you can if you will."
It was some time before Lucille could restore her to a quiet state of
mind, but at length her sobs ceased and Lucille continued:
"The worst is now past, and if you will return to your brother and
confess all, he will forgive you. When you are called upon to tell what
you know about this wicked man, you must do so without reserve. You will
never see him again except in prison. If you do as your brother wishes,
you will regain your light heart and sweet disposition; your real
husband will come back to you, and your future will be one of
happiness."
Mrs. Thayer sat motionless, with her face buried in her shawl;
occasionally a long, choking sob would make her whole frame quiver, but
otherwise she gave hardly a sign of life.
"Let me see your face," commanded Lucille.
As Mrs. Thayer slowly raised her tear-stained countenance, Lucille gazed
intently into her eyes, and again examined the lines of her hand; then
she went on speaking:
"There is another man near you, whose presence you do not suspect;
neither have you ever seen him; but he is watching you all the time. You
will soon meet him, for he wishes to talk with you. He is only of medium
height, but he is very well built and powerful; he has a full face,
ruddy complexion, brown hair, and gray eyes; he wears full whiskers all
around his face, and his expression is kindly but resolute. He is a very
determined man, and when he tries to do anything he never gives up
until he has accomplished his object. He has great power, and if you
follow his counsel he can save you from harm; but you must trust him
fully and tell him the whole truth, for he can instantly detect any
falsehood or evasion, and he will be very dangerous to you if you try to
deceive him. This is all I have to tell you at present, my child; I wish
you well, but I cannot devote more time to you. I hope you will give
heed to what I have told you, and that you will decide to follow the
right path. There are many now awaiting an audience with me, and I must
hasten to admit them, since I cannot tarry long in one city. I have been
here now some time, and I must soon journey on; the waste places of the
far West call to me--yea, even the deserts of the barren hills. I must
plunge into solitude for a time, to commune with Nature."
Then, raising her arms, Lucille placed both hands lightly on Mrs.
Thayer's head and said, solemnly:
"May the Spirit of Eternal Truth go with thee, my child, to guide thee
forevermore! Farewell."
When Mrs. Thayer looked up, after a few minutes of silence, Lucille had
disappeared, having slipped into the room where I and my stenographer
were listening. Seeing that the fortune-teller had dismissed her, Mrs.
Thayer drew down her heavy veil and left the room. One of my men was
stationed at the front door to watch her movements, so that when I
joined him, after a few minutes hurried talk with Lucille, he pointed
out to me the direction she had taken. I hastened down the street until
I caught sight of her; then, seeing that she was on her way back to her
boarding-house, I decided not to speak to her just then. The street was
quite crowded, and I preferred not to risk having a scene in the
presence of so many spectators. Therefore I walked at a safe distance
behind her until she was across the bridge; but, on reaching a quiet
neighborhood, I overtook her and said:
"Mrs. Thayer, I believe?"
It must be remembered that she had no acquaintances in Chicago except
her fellow-boarders; hence my recognition of her would have startled
her, even had she never been told to expect me. But, as it was, my
appearance gave her a great shock, since she was at that moment
revolving in her mind the information given her by Lucille. Therefore,
when she was addressed by a stranger, whom she at once recognized as the
man about whom Lucille had given her a forewarning, she was struck
almost speechless with fear. She could only ejaculate:
"Oh! God help me! that man has come!"
I saw she was nearly ready to faint, so I took her arm and said:
"Mrs. Thayer, I wish you to accompany me to my office."
She was so weak that I supported her a short distance until one of my
men, who had remained within call, could bring a hack. I then helped
Mrs. Thayer into the carriage and told the driver to proceed at once to
my office. Mrs. Thayer said nothing, and showed no objection to my
wishes; but she was greatly alarmed, and she could not take her eyes off
my face. She had a sort of helpless, questioning look, which I was glad
to see, since it was evidence that she was now wholly under my control.
When the carriage stopped, I assisted her to walk up stairs into my
private office, where my stenographer had already taken a position to
hear without being seen. I gave her a comfortable chair, and handed her
a glass of water, for I saw that she was very faint. As soon as her
color began to show that she had revived I said:
"Mrs. Thayer, you perceive that I am well acquainted with you. I am
sorry that you are in trouble, and I wish to be your friend, if you will
allow me to be so; all I ask is that you tell me the whole truth about
all your difficulties."
"Are you really my friend?" she asked, in a trembling voice; "can I rely
upon what you say, and be sure that you will not take advantage of me?
Oh, sir, my heart seems ready to break, and I know not what to think. I
am a poor, weak woman, completely in your power."
"You need have no fear of me," I replied, "I know nearly everything
relative to your troubles, but I wish you to tell me all the facts; then
I shall know precisely what to do to help you. It is possible to raise a
criminal charge against you, but it is my desire to prevent that;
therefore, you must tell me everything, without any reservation
whatever."
"Who are you?" she asked, after a few moments of thought. "You have not
told me your name, yet I know you; I have heard of you before, and I
know it will be useless for me to try to hide anything from you, but I
would like to know your name."
"My name is Pinkerton," I answered, "but I cannot tell you how I know
you, nor why I take an interest in your affairs. I wish you to give me a
full account of your relations with Pattmore ever since your first
acquaintance with him."
I then gave her a glass of wine to strengthen her, and asked her to
proceed. As she spoke at first in a very low voice, I professed to be
hard of hearing, in order that she should speak loud enough for my
stenographer to hear also.
She first referred to her early married life, when she was perfectly
happy in Henry's love; then she said that he made several very long
voyages, and when he came home he remained only a few days each time.
During one of these voyages, she met Pattmore and his wife in Brooklyn,
and they became well acquainted. Afterward Pattmore frequently came to
Brooklyn alone, and he always spent much of his time in her society. She
did not realize the danger of his intercourse at first; but, gradually,
he began to make love to her, and, finally, he accomplished her ruin.
Thenceforward she was wholly under his control, especially after Henry's
desertion of her. He brought her to his own hotel on the plea that she
would be company for his wife, and she lived as his mistress, in fact,
though not outwardly, until her brother came to take her away. Her
brother succeeded in awakening her remorse, and she determined to return
to Connecticut with him. Pattmore, however, opposed this action very
strongly, and offered to marry her immediately, saying that his wife was
sure to die soon from quick consumption, since all her family had died
of that disease at about her age. They were therefore secretly married,
and she then wrote to her brother that she should not return to
Connecticut. When she discovered that she was _enceinte_ she was much
alarmed, and she again decided to return to her brother after the
abortion had been performed, but Pattmore had a strong control over her
still. As soon as she was able to go out, after her illness, Pattmore
wrote to her to get a certain prescription put up by a druggist. She did
so, and then sent the powders to him. In a short time Pattmore came to
Chicago and told her that he had arranged to poison his wife. She was
very much shocked at first, but he told her that Mrs. Pattmore could
only live about a year anyhow, and that she would suffer a great deal
during her rapid decline; hence he argued that there could be no harm in
hastening her death to save her from many weeks of pain. He said that he
had already commenced to poison her, using small doses, so as to break
down her system gradually. While he was there Captain Sumner came back
from the East, and he was very angry at Mrs. Thayer for permitting
Pattmore to visit her. Then Pattmore told her to poison her brother in
order that she might inherit his property. This proposition perfectly
horrified her, as she really loved her brother; but Pattmore said that
they never could live together as long as Captain Sumner was alive, and
that he was afraid the Captain would some day get into a passion and
kill them both. In this way he worked on her feelings until she agreed
to give her brother some of the powder which she had sent to Greenville.
Accordingly she made three attempts to poison her brother, but
fortunately she was not successful. Pattmore then returned to
Greenville, and soon afterward his wife died. He had visited her only
once since that time, but they corresponded regularly. He was very
guarded in his letters as to what he said about his wife's death, but
she knew that he had carried out his plan, because he had told her so
distinctly when he last saw her. He said that he had given her small
doses every day until she died; but the doctor believed that she had
died of dysentery, so that he was all safe.
When she had finished, I said:
"Well, Mrs. Thayer, I suppose you are aware that you are not legally
Pattmore's wife?"
"Yes, I am," she said, with a sort of blind persistency; "his first wife
is dead, and as I was legally married to him I am now his wife."
"No, Mrs. Thayer," I replied, "I will show you that your pretended
marriage was no marriage at all; when it took place Pattmore's wife was
alive, and he could not contract a second legal marriage; again, you
have no evidence that your husband is dead, and it is therefore probable
that you could not marry again legally. Hence, as he _certainly_
committed bigamy, and as you _probably_ have done the same, there could
be no legal marriage between you."
"Yes, Mr. Pinkerton," she acknowledged, sadly, "I know you are right,
but still I cling to that belief. If I could be sure that Henry was
alive, I should not regard Pattmore as my husband; but, as his wife is
dead, and Henry is also dead to me, I shall think that I am Pattmore's
wife."
"Well, you can have your doubts set at rest very soon," said I, "for I
have received letters from England saying that Henry is on his return
from a whaling voyage in the South Sea."
"Is that so?" gasped Mrs. Thayer. "Well, I was told that, but I could
hardly believe it. Oh, what shall I do? It was all my fault that Henry
left me; he loved me truly, and I once loved him. Oh, if he would only
forgive me, and love me, I might hope to be happy again; but I fear he
can never pardon the wrongs I have done him."
"Do not despair, Mrs. Thayer," I said; "Henry may be willing to forgive
and forget if you show yourself ready to return his affection. However,
the first business is to circumvent Pattmore, and you must lend your
assistance."
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked, in a timid voice.
"I shall let you go home," I replied; "but I shall keep a strict watch
upon your actions, and if you show a spirit of true repentance, I will
shield you from the penalties of your crimes. You will be called upon to
testify in court against Pattmore, and then your brother will take you
to his farm in Connecticut. You can go now, but your brother must come
here and become responsible for your appearance when wanted. One thing
more, Mrs. Thayer; you are receiving letters from Pattmore every day;
now, I wish you to send me all his letters without opening or answering
them. If you attempt to deceive me in anything I shall be obliged to put
you in prison."
"Oh, no, no!" she said, eagerly; "you can trust me, I assure you, for I
know that I am in your power; a fortune-teller told me so."
"Well, well, I don't care anything about fortune-tellers--I never saw
one that wasn't a humbug--but you may depend upon it that I cannot be
deceived, and I will not be trifled with. You can go home now and tell
your brother to come over here to become your security."
So saying, I called a carriage and sent her home in charge of one of my
men. On returning to my office, I found Mrs. Warne awaiting me. I
complimented her very highly on her success, and told her that she need
not continue the business of fortune-telling more than a day or two
longer. I told her to be careful not to receive Mrs. Thayer again,
however, but to instruct the usher to tell her that Madam Lucille never
received any lady a second time after having completed her horoscope.
In about half an hour Captain Sumner came in. I told him that I was now
master of the situation, and that I would make a decided move in a day
or two.
"Yes," said the Captain, "Annie has told me a great deal, and she says
that I must become responsible for her, and guarantee that she shall not
leave town. How have you accomplished all this? I cannot understand it."
"Some day perhaps I will tell you all about it," I replied, "but I
cannot do so just now. I wish you to bring your sister here to-morrow
morning; I will prepare an affidavit for her to sign, and then we shall
soon have Pattmore under arrest."
"Well, if you will only have him punished as he deserves," said the
Captain, "I shall consider no reward too great for you. He is a snake in
the grass, who has ruined my sister, and covered our family with shame.
Now I want revenge."
"I shall do all in my power to have him punished," I said; "and I am
very well pleased to see the end so near. By the way, you might write
to Mr. Chapman to inform him of our success."
"I will, indeed," said the Captain, enthusiastically; "if it had not
been for him, I never should have thought of coming to you, Mr.
Pinkerton."
"Well, good-day, Captain; come here with Mrs. Thayer about ten o'clock
to-morrow morning."
I immediately placed the facts before my lawyer, and requested him to
prepare an affidavit for Mrs. Thayer to make relative to Pattmore's
guilt. The next morning it was ready, and Mrs. Thayer swore to the facts
as therein set forth. I then told the Captain to remain in Chicago until
I should send for him, and that evening I took the train for Greenville.