_Sommers returns to Bridgeport._--_An Interview with Mr.
Bollman._--_Sommers allays the Suspicions of Bucholz's Attorney, and
engages him as his own Counsel._
The cold, bleak winds of March had yielded to the warm and
invigorating showers of April, and these had brought forth the bright
flowers and fragrant grasses that grew and blossomed on this
beautiful May morning, when Edward Sommers left the confining walls
of the prison at Bridgeport. More than two months had elapsed since
he entered its frowning portals to commence the isolated life of a
prisoner, and a sigh of grateful relief escaped him as he gazed
around upon the brightness and beauty of the scene that was spread
before him.
There was but little time given him for indulgence in these soothing
and agreeable reveries. There was work for him to do, and he must
summon up all his energies for the task before him. His release had
been accomplished, and the promised revelation of Bucholz would be
made to him in a few days, but he must visit those who had an
interest in his welfare, and to whom he was responsible for his
actions. He would also be enabled during the few days of rest to
strengthen his shattered nerves and prepare himself for the important
duties which would soon devolve upon him. He therefore took the train
for New York and arrived there in due time.
To William Bucholz the absence of his friend and confidant was a
severe blow, but as he realized the service he promised to perform
for him, and the prospect of safety that was opening before his
despairing mind, he became reconciled to his lonely fate, and waited
patiently for the return of the man who was expected to devote
himself to his interests.
The suspicious actions of Brown, the prisoner who had watched their
movements so zealously, had not escaped the notice of both Sommers
and Bucholz, and, on leaving, the former had cautioned his companion
particularly and repeatedly against saying anything to him or to any
one else about matters connected with his case.
At the end of three days Edward Sommers returned to Bridgeport, and,
selecting a private boarding-house, he took up his abode there and
prepared to carry out the plans that were to be arranged between
himself and William Bucholz.
He considered it of paramount importance at the outset to disabuse
the minds of the attorneys for Bucholz of any suspicion in regard to
the relations existing between them, and with that end in view he
paid a visit to the city of New Haven, and finding Mr. Bollman, the
counsel who had acted for both of them, at his office, he engaged him
for the conduct of his own case when it should come to trial.
In the course of the conversation which ensued, Mr. Bollman turned
suddenly to Sommers, and said:
"Do you know, Mr. Sommers, that I have earnestly and repeatedly
warned my client against you? I had reason to believe that the
prosecuting attorney had placed some one in the jail to cultivate the
friendship of William Bucholz, in the attempt to obtain a confession
from him, and I thought you were the man. William would not listen to
this, however, and I myself believe now that such is not the case as
regards yourself, but I told him that he must not trust any one with
whom he was associated, nor make a confidant of any one in the
prison. A man in his position, you know cannot be too careful."
Sommers listened attentively and good-humoredly to these remarks, and
finally informed Mr. Bollman that he knew Bucholz had been warned
against him, for he had told him so.
"But, Mr. Bollman," continued he, "you need not be afraid of me, for
I have given him the same advice myself."
"Do you know of any suspicious persons in the jail?" asked Mr.
Bollman.
"I cannot tell with any certainty," replied the other; "but I do not
like the looks of one of the hall men, nor of that treacherous-looking
Brown, who is always spying upon the actions of the inmates of the
prison. I have warned Bucholz against these men myself, and I do not
think he has given them any information whatever."
After a protracted conversation, during which Sommers labored
diligently and successfully to erase any latent suspicions from the
mind of the attorney, Mr. Bollman at length said:
"Well, Mr. Sommers, to be candid with you, my suspicions were the
most decidedly aroused when I had my interview with Mr. Olmstead, the
State's attorney, about your bail. He evinced an unwillingness to
reduce the amount, and expressed a belief that you had known Bucholz
before you came to the jail. His manner of speaking led me to think
that he knew more about you than was good for my client, and I felt
sure that he had been the means of placing you in the jail to watch
him."
"I quite agree with you, Mr. Bollman; it did look suspicious," said
Sommers; "but Mr. Olmstead asked me the same questions when I spoke
to him. I suppose he thought from our intimacy that I must have been
acquainted with him before he was arrested."
With this explanation, and the ingenuous manner in which it was
given, the mind of Mr. Bollman seemed to be at rest upon this
subject, and their further conversation related to the case in which
Sommers himself would appear as defendant, and in which Mr. Bollman
was to act as his counsel.
Sommers informed him that he had seen the gentleman whose name had
been forged, and that, in consideration of the family connections of
the accused, he had agreed not to appear against him, and that there
would be very little danger of his conviction of the crime of which
he was charged.
This appeared to be very gratifying information for Mr. Bollman, who
therefore anticipated very little trouble in clearing his client and
earning his fee.
It was further arranged between them that a letter should be sent to
the relations of Bucholz in Germany, who had not as yet displayed any
sympathy for the unfortunate man or made any offer of assistance to
him, during the hour of his trial.
One noticeable feature of their conversation was the evident
avoidance by both of them of a discussion of the probable guilt or
innocence of the accused man, nor did either declare his belief in
his innocence.
Mr. Bollman expressed himself very carefully: "I have followed up the
theory of his guilt, and it does not agree with his own statements or
those of other people. Then, again, I have taken up the theory of his
innocence, and this does not agree with his story either. It is a
most extraordinary case, and sometimes it seems to me that it cannot
be otherwise but that William Bucholz is the guilty party; and then,
again, there are some of his actions that tend positively to show
that he did not do it. I am at a loss what to say about it myself."
Sommers gave Mr. Bollman to understand that he believed in the guilt
of the accused man, but that, in despite of that fact, he was willing
to help him to the extent of his power.
And so they parted, and Edward Sommers returned to Bridgeport to be
near his fellow-prisoner, and to carry out the plan which was to be
entrusted to him.
As he stepped from the train upon the platform, he was surprised to
see the figure of Thomas Brown standing in the doorway of the
station, evidently waiting for the train to bear him away for the
time. Upon making inquiries he ascertained that he had been released
on bail, and that he had found friends to assist him. He never saw
him again. Whether this individual was an embryo detective, who was
desirous of discovering the mystery of the Schulte murder, or whether
he was simply a victim of intense curiosity, was never learned.
He disappeared, and, so far as his relation to this narrative is
concerned, was never heard of again.