THE DETECTIVES.
The Detective Corps of New York consists of twenty-five men, in change
of Captain Young. They are men of experience, intelligence, and energy.
They are well skilled in the art of ferreting out crimes, and generally
succeed in the objects which engage their attention. They have a
distinct organization from the Metropolitan Police, though they are
subject to the orders of the Commissioners.
It requires an unusual amount of intelligence to make a good detective.
The man must be honest, determined, brave, and complete master over
every feeling of his nature. He must also be capable of great
endurance, of great fertility of resource, and possessed of no little
ingenuity. He has to adopt all kinds of disguises, and is often subject
to temptations which only an honest man can resist. Any act, savoring
in the least of dishonesty, is punished by immediate expulsion from the
force.
BUSINESS OF THE FORCE.
The men are always to be found at the police headquarters in Mulberry
street, where they have a separate apartment, when not on duty. They
are constantly engaged. Strangers coming to the city get drunk
overnight in places of bad repute and are robbed. Next morning they
come to ask the aid of the police in discovering their property. If
their statement of the circumstances of the case is true, they can
generally recover the lost articles through the aid of the detectives,
if they can be recovered at all. The force is in constant telegraphic
communication with other cities, and is always giving or receiving
intelligence of criminal matters and movements, so that if a crime is
committed in any city, the police force of the whole Union is on the
alert for the apprehension of the criminal.
The individuality of crime is remarkable. Each burglar has a distinct
method of conducting his operations, and the experience of the
detective enables him to recognize these marks or characteristics, in
an instant. Thanks to this experience, which is the result of long and
patient study, he is rarely at a loss to name the perpetrator of a
crime, if that person is a "professional." Appearances which have no
significance for the mere outsider are pregnant with meaning to him. He
can determine with absolute certainty whether the mischief has been
done by skilled or unskilled hands; whether it has been done hurriedly
or leisurely; and can in a few minutes decide upon the course which
ought to be pursued for the apprehension of the thief and the recovery
of the property.
"A man came into the Fourth Police Precinct, some time ago, and
complained that his house had been robbed. The thief had been pursued
without effect, but while running, he was observed to drop a chisel,
and to tear up a piece of paper, which he also threw away. Captain
Thorn, and a detective who was present, carefully examined the man
respecting the mode by which the entrance had been effected, the marks
left by the tools, the kind of property taken, and the action and
bearing of the thief while running away. After eliciting all the facts
that they could obtain, they both agreed that it had been done by a
certain gang. When this had been ascertained to their satisfaction, the
next thing to be done was to identify the individual or individuals
belonging to the said gang, who had committed the robbery. Captain
Thorn proceeded to gum over a piece of paper, on which he fitted
together the small bits of paper which the thief had thrown away. This
at once disclosed the name of the robber, who was well known to the
police as a member of the gang which Captain Thorn and the detective
had, from the indications afforded, judged to be the depredators. The
detective then said that the thief would certainly be found at one of
three places which he named. Three policemen were accordingly sent
after him, one to each of the places named; and the captain assured us
that the sun was not more certain to rise the next morning, than that
the man would be at the station-house. Now, how were the police enabled
to fix so readily on the depredators in this case? Simply by their
intimate knowledge of their style of working. They knew their marks
just as a man knows the handwriting of his correspondent. When they had
fixed upon the man who committed the robbery, their knowledge of all
his habits enabled them to predict with certainty where he would be
found, and to give such exact description of his person as would enable
any one who had never seen him to recognize him at a glance."
A COSTLY CASE.
The necessary expenses of the detection of crime are often
considerable. Information must be obtained, even if it has to be paid
for liberally. Officers must be in concealment for weeks, and sometimes
for months. Long journeys must not unfrequently be made; and in a
hundred ways large expenditures will be called for. We were told of a
case where a treasury note of the government was counterfeited with
consummate skill, and it became a matter of vital importance to obtain
the plate from which the counterfeit was printed. One of the most
successful detectives was employed to work up the case, who soon found
that the cost of securing it would be so great that there was little
probability that the treasurer would audit his accounts. He therefore
told the government that the cost would be so great that he declined to
undertake it; but the possession of the plate, and the information that
its capture would give, were so exceedingly important, that the
detective was authorized to go on with it. He did so; the plate was
obtained; all the information sought for was procured, and the
counterfeiters and their abettors were captured. But it cost the
government one hundred and twenty thousand dollars to accomplish this
result. There were regular vouchers for every payment, and each was
carefully scrutinized and verified. There was no doubt whatever that
all the expenditures had been made in good faith, and with the utmost
economy. Doubtless the government felt that the possession of that
plate, and the knowledge gained, were worth all they had cost.
TRACKING A MURDERER.
The following case, which occurred a few years ago, in a sister city,
will show how the detectives track and secure their game:
A terrible murder had been committed. The sods were scarcely heaped
upon the coffin of the murdered man when one of his murderers was
securely confined in the cells of the central station. The arrest was
one of unusual difficulty. When the detectives visited the scene of the
murder, the only clue to the perpetrators was a blood stained
handkerchief and the gag used in strangling their victim. With these
faint traces there was little hope of ferreting out the murderer, but
Detective Joshua Taggart assumed the task. Returning to the store, he
reconnoitered the premises with new diligence. A new trace was then
discovered. A new mortise chisel, wrapped in a piece of brown paper,
lay on a shelf in the room. The chisel was not the property of the
proprietors of the dental depot. It had plainly been brought there by
the burglars. To trace it then became the task of the detective. Upon
it depended his only hope of tracing the murder from the dead porter to
the burglars who had killed the unoffending warden.
There were none of the usual evidences of crime in the robbery of the
store. A skilled detective knows every thief within his jurisdiction,
and their operations are to him familiar and easily recognized. The
appearance of a forced door will indicate the man who burst it open. An
experienced detective will trace a burglar by the manner of opening a
door as readily as a bank teller will recognize the hand writing of one
of his depositors. The size of the jemmy used, the manner in which it
is applied, the place at which a house is entered, whether at the door,
the window, the roof, or the cellar grating, are all so many unerring
indications to the detectives of the burglars whose operations he
traces. But in this case there was no burglary committed. It was simply
murder and robbery. The murdered man had either opened the door of the
wareroom, or the murderers opened the door with the keys taken from the
gagged or insensible porter. The removal of the goods betokened the
robbery. Gold, silver and platina to the value of three thousand
dollars were taken away, but there were no traces or evidence of the
burglars. A murdered man lay dead in the entry, a number of shelves
stood empty against the wall, but neither clue nor trace, footprint nor
finger mark, existed to aid or direct the detective's sagacity in his
search. Detective Taggart knew this. He felt the difficulty of his
situation, and he preserved the chisel as the first link of the
evidence he was to forge and fasten into a chain of convicting proof.
He took the chisel home. The trade mark could not guide him. Hundreds
of the firm's chisels were weekly sold in the city, and the clue seemed
losing its power, when a few figures on the back of the wrapping paper
inclosing the chisel arrested Taggart's attention. These figures were
evidently a calculation by a hardware dealer of the price of the tool,
the reduction by a slow hand of the business trade mark into the simple
value of the digits. To find the man who had made the memorandum on the
back of the paper was the first step in detecting the murderer.
Mr. Taggart visited the hardware dealers one by one until he despaired
of finding the one who sold the chisel. There was no evidence that the
tool had been purchased in Philadelphia. New York, Pittsburg, Baltimore
and Boston retail such chisels, and the probability of its purchase in
St. Louis was as strong as the idea of its purchase here. But Taggart
found the man who sold the chisel. A hardware dealer recognized the
calculation on the wrapper, and remembered the man who had bought it.
Two men, he said, came to the store. One was slender and tall, the
other was short and stout, with a heavy black moustache and black hair.
The latter bought the chisel. The pal stood in the background and said
nothing.
This was the commencement of the case. Who the stout man was Taggart
could not surmise. It might be one of a score of thieves, and for four
days he could form no conception of the murderer's identity, until one
night, waking from a restless slumber, Huey Donnelly flashed like
thought across his mind, and running his memory back for the past few
weeks, he remembered that at the time the murder was committed Donnelly
was in the city. The great difficulty in tracing the case was passed.
Donnelly was at once watched. Who the second man was Taggart well
surmised. He followed Huey to every quarter of the city to see if he
communicated with his pal, who was with him when the chisel was
purchased--who was with him when the porter was murdered. But the
second murderer had fled. Taggart himself followed Donnelly night after
night, dogged him into every rum-mill and thieves' brothel, where he
tarried briefly or long, watching him at night until he went to bed,
but never found his pal, who is the associate criminal in the tragedy.
A week after Donnelly was spotted, Taggart found his pal had left the
city, and unless Donnelly was arrested he would also leave. Following
up the trail, he met Huey in Washington Square. Donnelly was leisurely
crossing when a hand was laid heavily on his shoulder. He turned and
faced the detective, who simply said:
'I want you, Donnelly.'
'What for?'
'Murder.'
"When at the station, the salesman was sent for. Donnelly's black
moustache was gone. His face was shaved clean. He was placed in the
rogue's gallery. A number of men of similar build, both moustached and
clean face, were placed in the same room. The salesman was conducted to
the gallery. 'Point out the man who purchased the chisel,' was the
detective's command. Without hesitation or doubt, the salesman placed
his hand on Donnelly's shoulder. Then Taggart followed the second
murderer. He went to Baltimore, but he could get no further. All clue
was lost in that city, and the present lurking place of the confederate
of Donnelly is undiscovered. The necessity for keeping the arrest quiet
was removed, and now the detective calls to his aid the far reaching
influence of the press and the telegraph, that police authorities of
other cities may complete the work begun here, and render to justice
the other murderer, who is at liberty in spite of her laws."
It would require a volume to narrate all of the exploits of the
detectives, and so we shall content ourselves with the incidents
already given.
If, as we have said, persons seeking the aid of the police, would tell
the truth in their statements, the aid rendered them would be much more
efficacious and speedy; and, after all, it is useless to try to deceive
these keen students of human nature. The detective can tell from the
nature of the loss whether the statement of the circumstances is true
or false, for he knows that certain robberies take place only in
certain localities.
Persons are often indignant that those who have robbed them are not
arrested and held for trial. Undoubtedly this would be a very desirable
thing, but it is not always possible. Frequently no evidence can be
obtained against the guilty party, whose arrest would be a useless
expense to the city, and the detective in such cases is compelled to
content himself with the recovery of the property. The stolen goods
thus recovered and restored to their owners is stated on good authority
at two millions annually. [Footnote: Prison Association Report. 1866.]
In many cases the detective is very loth to arrest the culprit. It may
be the first offence of some youth, or the victim may have been forced
on by circumstances which an experienced officer can understand and
appreciate. In such cases he generally leans to the side of mercy, for
the men of the New York force are kind and humane. Their advice to the
party against whom the offence has been committed, is not to resort to
the law, but to try the offender again. In this way they have saved
many a soul from the ruin which an exposure and punishment would have
caused, and have brought back many an erring one to the paths of virtue
and integrity. There are men of tried honesty in this city to-day, men
holding responsible positions, whose lives,
"Could their story but be told,"
would verify this assertion.