The confession of Herbert de Lernac, now lying under sentence of death
at Marseilles, has thrown a light upon one of the most inexplicable
crimes of the century—an incident which is, I believe, absolutely
unprecedented in the criminal annals of any country. Although there is a
reluctance to discuss the matter in official circles, and little
information has been given to the Press, there are still indications
that the statement of this arch-criminal is corroborated by the facts,
and that we have at last found a solution for a most astounding
business. As the matter is eight years old, and as its importance was
somewhat obscured by a political crisis which was engaging the public
attention at the time, it may be as well to state the facts as far as we
have been able to ascertain them. They are collated from the Liverpool
papers of that date, from the proceedings at the inquest upon John
Slater, the engine-driver, and from the records of the London and West
Coast Railway Company, which have been courteously put at my disposal.
Briefly, they are as follows.
On the 3rd of June, 1890, a gentleman, who gave his name as Monsieur
Louis Caratal, desired an interview with Mr. James Bland, the
superintendent of the London and West Coast Central Station in
Liverpool. He was a small man, middle-aged and dark, with a stoop which
was so marked that it suggested some deformity of the spine. He was
accompanied by a friend, a man of imposing physique, whose deferential
manner and constant attention showed that his position was one of
dependence. This friend or companion, whose name did not transpire, was
certainly a foreigner, and probably, from his swarthy complexion, either
a Spaniard or a South American. One peculiarity was observed in him. He
carried in his left hand a small black leather dispatch-box, and it was
noticed by a sharp-eyed clerk in the Central office that this box was
fastened to his wrist by a strap. No importance was attached to the fact
at the time, but subsequent events endowed it with some significance.
Monsieur Caratal was shown up to Mr. Bland’s office, while his companion
remained outside.
Monsieur Caratal’s business was quickly dispatched. He had arrived that
afternoon from Central America. Affairs of the utmost importance
demanded that he should be in Paris without the loss of an unnecessary
hour. He had missed the London express. A special must be provided.
Money was of no importance. Time was everything. If the company would
speed him on his way, they might make their own terms.
Mr. Bland struck the electric bell, summoned Mr. Potter Hood, the
traffic manager, and had the matter arranged in five minutes. The train
would start in three-quarters of an hour. It would take that time to
insure that the line should be clear. The powerful engine called
Rochdale (No. 247 on the company’s register) was attached to two
carriages, with a guard’s van behind. The first carriage was solely for
the purpose of decreasing the inconvenience arising from the
oscillation. The second was divided, as usual, into four compartments, a
first-class, a first-class smoking, a second-class, and a second-class
smoking. The first compartment, which was nearest to the engine, was the
one allotted to the travellers. The other three were empty. The guard of
the special train was James McPherson, who had been some years in the
service of the company. The stoker, William Smith, was a new hand.
Monsieur Caratal, upon leaving the superintendent’s office, rejoined his
companion, and both of them manifested extreme impatience to be off.
Having paid the money asked, which amounted to fifty pounds five
shillings, at the usual special rate of five shillings a mile, they
demanded to be shown the carriage, and at once took their seats in it,
although they were assured that the better part of an hour must elapse
before the line could be cleared. In the meantime a singular coincidence
had occurred in the office which Monsieur Caratal had just quitted.
A request for a special is not a very uncommon circumstance in a rich
commercial centre, but that two should be required upon the same
afternoon was most unusual. It so happened, however, that Mr. Bland had
hardly dismissed the first traveller before a second entered with a
similar request. This was a Mr. Horace Moore, a gentlemanly man of
military appearance, who alleged that the sudden serious illness of his
wife in London made it absolutely imperative that he should not lose an
instant in starting upon the journey. His distress and anxiety were so
evident that Mr. Bland did all that was possible to meet his wishes. A
second special was out of the question, as the ordinary local service
was already somewhat deranged by the first. There was the alternative,
however, that Mr. Moore should share the expense of Monsieur Caratal’s
train, and should travel in the other empty first-class compartment, if
Monsieur Caratal objected to having him in the one which he occupied. It
was difficult to see any objection to such an arrangement, and yet
Monsieur Caratal, upon the suggestion being made to him by Mr. Potter
Hood, absolutely refused to consider it for an instant. The train was
his, he said, and he would insist upon the exclusive use of it. All
argument failed to overcome his ungracious objections, and finally the
plan had to be abandoned. Mr. Horace Moore left the station in great
distress, after learning that his only course was to take the ordinary
slow train which leaves Liverpool at six o’clock. At four thirty-one
exactly by the station clock the special train, containing the crippled
Monsieur Caratal and his gigantic companion, steamed out of the
Liverpool station. The line was at that time clear, and there should
have been no stoppage before Manchester.
The trains of the London and West Coast Railway run over the lines of
another company as far as this town, which should have been reached by
the special rather before six o’clock. At a quarter after six
considerable surprise and some consternation were caused amongst the
officials at Liverpool by the receipt of a telegram from Manchester to
say that it had not yet arrived. An inquiry directed to St. Helens,
which is a third of the way between the two cities, elicited the
following reply:—
“To James Bland, Superintendent, Central L. & W. C., Liverpool.—Special
passed here at 4.52, well up to time.—Dowser, St. Helens.”
This telegram was received at 6.40. At 6.50 a second message was
received from Manchester:—
“No sign of special as advised by you.”