Chief Inspector Kelley, that grizzled veteran of the Detective Bureau,
was talking to his nephew, Jim Barry, who had indicated a desire to
enter the uncrowded field of criminology.
‘The average policeman,’ he said, ‘looks upon the lay criminologist in
much the same manner as the professional in any field regards the
amateur. Generally speaking, that attitude is justified.
‘In thirty years of police work, however, I have met no one in detective
circles, in or out of the force, who so effectively combines theoretical
knowledge with practical application as Professor Fordney.
‘A man of definite scientific attainments and recognition, he yet
appreciates that the simple fundamentals of crime detection are
effective in ninety per cent of all criminal cases. While he has
unraveled by scientific means some amazing and extremely baffling crimes
that otherwise would have gone unsolved, he puts his greatest reliance
on those basic principles upon which rests the whole structure of crime
detection.
‘His major theory is that most crimes are simple; that their solution
calls only for the exercise of ordinary talents developed to an
extraordinary degree; that the stupidity of the average criminal
himself, and not the brilliance of the detective, is responsible for his
detection.
‘In that, I might tell you, he finds complete corroboration in the
experience of such an outstanding detective of world-wide reputation as
Sir Melville L. Macnaghten, C.B., late Chief of the Criminal
Investigation Department of Scotland Yard. Commenting on the capture of
a particularly vicious murderer, he remarked, “But for the fact that the
student of criminal history is constantly faced with the stupidity of
the criminal, there would be nothing more remarkable in this case than
the fatuity of the man who, having murdered solely for personal
gratifications, and taken every precaution, as he thought, to avoid
discovery, immediately wrote blackmailing letters in which he showed
guilty knowledge of a secret murder.”
‘Fordney could undoubtedly explain such an inconsistency as this by his
uncanny knowledge of criminal psychology,’ continued Kelley. ‘Among
psychologists his insight into the criminal mind and its reactions is
appreciated as being authoritative.
‘His greatest interest is his class in criminology at the University. He
still finds time, however, to assist actively the police of many cities
who frequently consult him on cases they find unusually puzzling.
‘There are instances also in which his part has been that of a
bystander, where a word of suggestion, modestly given, has frequently
disposed of cases before they were brought to the attention of the
police.
‘If the Professor is convinced you have the natural qualifications, Jim,
and a real inclination for work, I can get you into his class. He will
take not only a personal, but a fatherly, interest in you, as in the
rest of his students. You will receive the finest possible training
given by a man of broad understanding and great human sympathies. Out of
his vast experience and knowledge, gained in studying crime in all parts
of the world, he will develop in you those qualities essential to
success in this field.
‘You will find him a genial, ruddy, kindly man of fifty, with a
waistline of forty. There is nothing subtle in his face or manner. A
characterful nose rises above a strong and determined mouth, adorned by
a blond mustache. A pair of keen but smiling blue eyes completes a
commonplace face. Although he refuses to admit it, his rapidly thinning
hair causes him great concern. A bit vain, the old codger, but don’t
tell him I told you so,’ laughed the Inspector.
‘Scrupulously dressed, he looks like an amiable and highly successful
business executive. He’s a mixer and thoroughly enjoys the good things
of life. He views the passing parade with a keen sense of humor, few
illusions, and a genuine interest in his fellow man. Detests hypocrisy;
would rather see ten guilty men acquitted than one innocent man
condemned. Recognizes his own fallibility, but knows his own worth and
does not suffer from that abominable social vice, false modesty.
‘You might be interested in knowing his only hobby is that of designing,
making, and repairing toys for children. He’s known to hundreds of them
as the Toy Man.
‘Though a bachelor, he looks with favor on the ladies, enjoys their
company and is thoroughly sociable.
‘It’s a pleasure and an education to know him. More than once he’s
helped your old uncle and absolutely refused the credit that was his,’
concluded Inspector Kelley.
In the following pages you will find some interesting experiences taken
from the Professor’s case book. They illustrate forcibly his contention
that crime is simple and that most criminals are caught, not by any
superhuman qualities of the detective, but by their own ignorance,
stupidity, or carelessness.
In these accounts every fact, every clue necessary to the solution is
given. The answer is in the story itself. You need look nowhere else but
there. Each problem has only one possible solution.
Written in less than two hundred and sixty words, these little stories
can be read in a minute.
Here is your chance to work on an absolute equality with the Professor;
to match your wits with his and the criminal’s. You know as much as the
Professor does. Now you have an opportunity of proving just how good a
detective you are and what poor detectives your friends are.
The author hopes you will find them as fascinating reading as they were
in the telling by the Professor.