Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 292, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 December 1912 — The Case Book of a Private Detective [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Case Book of a Private Detective

True Narratives of Interesting Cases by a Former Operative of the William J. Borns Detective Agency

By DAVID CORNELL

(Copyright by the International Press Bureau.)

MY FIRST CASE * "“Getting” the Men Who Hung a Jury Up to the day that the manager of the New York office of the Burns Detective Agency handed me an order for SSO expense money and started me up the Hudson river on my first manhunt, I had never done anything in my life that might have been suspected of even remotely resembling detective work. I probably knew as little about the business as anybody in the country, and I had never had any yearning or intention to become a detective. But I was 36 years old, out of work, almost broke —in New York!, —had a family tC support and, moßt of all, I happened to have met the celebrated detective who is the head of the agency by which I came to be employed, the largest reputable private detective agency in the That was why I became, and am, a private detective. One morning I found myself at 42d street and Broadway, looking at the newspaper bulletins and wondering how long my money would last and where in the world I should turn for a job. One of the bulletins read: '"Detective Burns Nabs More Bribery.” That bulletin did the trick. "He may remember me,” I thought, “and he may know of a Job to fit me.” I went straight down town to the office of the agency of which , the big ■ man is the head and asked if he was In. •‘What do you want of him?” asked the office manager. I was desperate. I said: ‘‘l know him, and I want a Job.” He looked me over, went into an inner office for a while, and reappeared, bearing an application blank. The office, and everything in it, was Just as it would be in,an up-to-date business office. The business of the place might as well have been selling insurance as hunting criminals. v The application blank had all the conventional questions of such a paper, and in addition these: “Were you over connected with any police force, or any detective agency? Are you acquainted with any police officials, or any one employed by detective agencies? “Were you ever employed by any railroad? “Do you know anything about the newspaper business? “Have you a large number of acquaintances, and can you keep your occupation from your friends and acquaintances?" “Pill that out,” said the office manager. He had not even asked me if I wanted to become a detective, and but for the last questions on the blank I would not have known that he was considering me as an applicant for such a position. “I’ve never done any detective work in my life,” I said. “Good,” he said. “If you had, we wouldn’t have “you. Fill out the blank." _. • , When it was filled out he took it and disappeared again. He was back in three minutes. “All right,” he said, sitting down at his desk and picking up some papers. “There’s a man up in Peeksville (a small town on the Hudson river near New York), who hung the jury Jn a damage suit. Want you to go up and get him. Here’s the dope." He began to read from the papers in his band. The gist of it was that one Kellner, a New York contractor, had done SIOO,OOO worth of work on the water supply system of the town of Peeksville. When the .time came for him to render his bill he had been approached by one of the town’s political powers, Bruley by name, and commissioner of public works, who let it be known that if he would make out a bill for $130,000, it would be allowed in full without protest or question, and that $5,000 of the $30,000 overcharge would go to him as a reward for placing certain officials in the way of fingering $25,000 of the people’s money. Kellner had refused. When he rendered his rightful bill for SIOO,OOO the powers in the city hall calmly cut it to $85,000, claiming that portions of the work were poorly done; that parts of the contract ha<P been awarded illegally, but in reality merely-fet-ing even with Kellner for refusing to assist them to some easy graft Kellner promptly sued. He had a case so strong, and public opinion was so strongly aroused over the exposed scandal, that recovery of his $15,000 seemed a foregone conclusion. But the would-be grafters had managed to place the nigger in the woodpile in the shape of one of their clan on the jury. Eleven of the jurymen on the first ballot had voted for e full judgment for Kellnerr The twelfth man had voted “no” on that ballot, and on the second, and the third, and on every ballot for the next twentyfour houre. He had hung the Jarir, and the case was a mis-trial. The man’s name was Harry Donlin, a real estate agent £ .. ... “That’s the man you’ve got to get" , said the office manager. "He did the I trick, and he's been spending money |#vef since. We’ve got to have, a full i ", ''r - : >*■■■ -^-‘4---^

confession from him that we can use as evidence, and it’s got .to be in wilting and sworn to, or told In the hearing of at least two people: who gave him the bribe, when, and what for. And we’ve got to get it in a hurry, too. because the new trial Is coming on in less than a month. Have you got any money?” I didn't have enough to be worth mentioning. He drew a pink pad to him, wrote out an order on the cashier for SSO and handed it to me. “Get up there right away," he said. “You can get a train every hour on the even hour. Here are some report forms. Write a full report of your doings every day and mail it every evening. Don’t forget to make your report cover all your time.” That was how I entered this business. I had been accustomed to seeing things move with businesslike expediency in other offices, hut this beat all records. Thirty minutes before I had entered the office inquiring for the chief. I had not seen the chief, had not been questioned; but here I was handed SSO, sent out on what seemed to me like a complicated case of detective work, and being calmly told to get a full confession from a man I knew no more about than about Adam. “They are Just trying me out to see how I act,” I thought, as I took the money order. So I said: “All right When shall I Report here again?" “We will let you know,”’was the answer. I caught a three o’clock train on the New York Central and took a seat In the smoking car. Across the aisle lolled a tall, lanky, good-natured young fellow whose ticket stuck in.the seat, in front of him, showed that he was going to Peeksville, my destination. On the chance that he lived in the town, or knew something about it, I took out my pipe, stuffed it, and began to search, ostentatiously, for the matches I pretended not to have. I dreW his attention first, then said: 1 “You don’t happen to have an extra match, do yojb?” “Sure," he said, and began to dig. I crossed over and sat down beside him. As I accepted the match and prepared to light my pipe I stuck my ticket in the seat before us, where he could not fail to see it. “Going to Peeksville, too?” he said, genially. "Yes,” I said, puffing away. “You going there?” “Yep,” he said. "I live there. You don’t live there, do you?” “No,” I answered. “Thought not,” said my friend. "I know everybody there. Peeksville is a mighty nice little place.” He looked me over, I was prosperous looking. “Say,” he said, “If you’re thinking of buying a place up there you want -to see Donlin by all means. He’s the agent for the best real estate bargains in town. I’m a friend, of his, and I know he’s right.” Donlin was the man I was after. I pretended to misunderstand the name. “Who? ‘Donaldson*?" ‘-Donlin,” he corrected. -"Harry Donlin. I’ll introduce you to him if you wish when we get up there." I did my best to get on a friendly basis with my good natured young friend, and by the time we neared our destination I knew that his name was Daley; he knew that mine was Cornell, and we were getting along so well that when we stepped from the train we walked straight across the street to have a friendly glass of beer. In the barroom we ran Into a short, heavy set man, with a nervous, twitching mouth, and restless eyes. He web one of the most worried looking men I have ever seen. “Ah, hello, Harry!" bawled Daley. “Say, Harry, I want to introduce you to an old friend of mine from Chicago. Mr. Cornell, like to have you meet Mr. Donlin. Mr. Donlin’s an old pal of mine, too." Mr. Donlin’s expression relaxed a little when he heard that I was “an old friend of Daley’s.” It was obviously a relief to him to hear that I was known by one of his “pals,” and he showed it by greeting me in a hearty manner, and by insisting on buying drinks. I told him that I might be interested in a house in Peeksville. and he began to treat me with considerable deference. When I left him for the evening we had made an appointment for ten o’clock next morning to make a tour of inspection of the desirable houses for sale in Peeksville. We drove through the town and looked at half a dozen little houses. I was not particularly impressed with any of them, or at least pretended not to be. There was one that I told Donlin, might do—if I decided that the town was to my liking. For the next two days he spent about haiTof bis time* and s6me of his money proving to me that he was a good fellow, and that the town was full of good fellows. On the second day he was calling me by my first name; and I was reciprocating.' He was an easy-going, not over-brilliant Irishman, who apparently was afraid ever to become entirely sober, and who never wanted to be without a congenial companion- to talk to. He was plainly living under a great •train.

On the third day a letter from the office directed me to come la to the New York office that evening. “Go in and see the chief.” said the office manager when I reported- The chief was in his private office with my reports on his desk before him. “Well,” he said, without troubling about a greeting, “you’re showing considerable speed for a big fellow. 1 guess you’d better begin to do the crook stall right away. You’re from Chicago. You got into a little trouble out there and you had to leave. You are keeping out of sight of the Chicago authorities, and you picked out Peeksville as a likely place to hide in. You understand, don’t you?" 5 ‘ ‘Tm to pose as a crook?" “Certainly. This man Donlin Is a natural blabber, who’ll talk if you get close to him. You have got a good start by pretending to be looking for a house. Now, tomorrow you stall about being afraid of going out so much; keep under cover. Stay in your room a lot. Begin to fight shy of the house proposition. Let your man know that you’re a little afraid of him. Keep away from him. Make him come to you. Then let him pump It out of you that you’re hiding, and that you cleaned up big on a crooked deal in Chicago. We’ll have a letter written to you from the Chicago offioe. Lose this letter where your man will find and read it, and your stall as a crook will make good. And if he begins to show any inclination to tell you his own secrets, at first tell him you don’t want to hear them; that .you’ve got troubles enough of your own. Understand? And the next time you come into the office cover your bracks by going through some building with two entrances before coming here." » I went back to Peeksville, and the

next day I stayed, in my room. I had my meals sent up and sent a boy out for some magazines to read. I went out for a walk at night, keeping entirely to the dark side streets. The clerk eyed me rather straigely as I returned, and I knew that soon Donlin would hear about my strange conduct The next day I did the same thing. In the evening there was a knock at my door. s'Whpi.is it?” I demanded, sharply. “Donlin,” came the answer. “What’s the matter, old man? Feeling sick?” After delaying a moment I opened the door a little, looked out as if to assure myself that It was DonHn, and let him in. He looked at me curiously. - “You aren’t* sick, are you? f ' he said. "No," I said. "I just stayed in my room, that’s all.” He kept looking at me steadily. "Anything gone wrong?" he said. "Oh, no,’’ I said. “No, I just got tired of showing myself—of running around so much.” «. I had never had any experience in acting before, but 1 let me say here that such success as I have had as a detective has been due more to the fact that I possess a certain natural talept for playing parts in a way to win the confidence of the man I am after, than anything else. Before Donlin left me that evening he had fully drawn the conclusion that I was la

some sort of tronhls, and that I was In Peeksville for the PUrpOfS ing out of sight. The last words he said were: “Don’t worir, old mafr. Wfo Tour friends. The bunch here is right.” Two days later the fake letter came to me from the Chicago office. It was mailed* In a plain envelope and professed to come from my brother. It read: "Dear Dave: “I have been talking with Mr. Grimmer, and you are mistaken in believing that he only wants to hurt you; all that he cares 'bout Is getting his money back. I told him that he could take his choice,” either go on and stir up a lot of noise and discredit you here forever, and get no money back, or else get his money and'keep quiet. He said: ‘Give me my money; that’s all I care about.’ I then told him that he was mistaken when he said the amount you had got was $38,000. I said that you had got less than $25,000, and that in moving around the country you had spent $3,000, so all you had was about $22,000. He didn’t believe it, but he is so greedy for money that he agreed to drop everything, and sign a paper clearing you if he gets hack $22,000. “Now, I think that was a pretty fine piece of business on my part, and that .it is the best thing you can da Even If you go into court and fight him and show him up for what he is, he is going to show you up, and you’ll be ruined if he does. If you return $22,000 you clean up $16,000; which will help some. My advice Is that you do this. At all events let me know at once what you are going to do. “Don’t forget to burn this. "Your brother, TTRED.” Donlin took me buggy riding to look

at another house that afternoon. We were chums by this time. When I left him I managed to slip the letter, without the envelope, into the seat where I had been sitting without being observed. I never saw or heard of that letter again, but Donlin found it and read it and it did its work, as I discovered later. One day just three weeks after I came to Peeksville, he came up to my room slightly more under the influence of liquor than usual, and told me that he had quarrelled with his wife. And through that I “got” ny man. I had won his confidence; he trusted me even before his wife. “That’s been my whole trouble all the time," he said. "My wife won’t let me alone. First it’s one thing she’s nagging about, then another. I’d never been in any trouble if it hadn’t been for her. She’s always hollering about me not giving her enough money. Well, here a short time ago I had a chance to put one over, and I did—s2,soo worth. And she starts asking me where I got the money I’m giving her and begins to bawl me out I quit I just walked out, and she’ll whistle another tune before I go back.” y / The truth was that his wife wss disgusted over his drinking, “Skip out for a couple days and iet her cool down,” I suggested. “I tell you what let’s do; let’s take a night boat up to Albany and hang around there for a couple of days.. Fm get-

ting kind of tired of this place myself. What do you say?" care where I go. Damn it A fellow can get into more trouble when thingß aren’t right at home than he knows how to handle. If she was the kind of woman you could tell things to—" ‘Don’t talk to me about that, Harry," I interrupted. ‘Tm the one who knows what that means. • To be frank, \hat’s why I left Chicago, because things weren’t right It home.” "Yes, hut take my case here,” he protested. "I—” “1 don’t want to hear your troubles,” I said. "I've got all I can do to hold down my own. Lit’# go down to New York on the next train and hang around there today and go up the river on the night boat." "dome on,” he said. Had I given him a chance to talk he might have spouted out his whole story on the train going down to the city. That was all that was troubling him; he needed) somebody to whom he could tell the story of his crime. But I kept interrupting and leading the conversation away to other subjects. As soon as we reached New York I made a pretext of calling up to find at what time the boats left, and called up the office and told the whole situation. ' "Well.” said the manager in a casual sort of way, "we ought to get him tonight on the boat I’ll a stateroom for you on the C. W. Morse, of the Hudson Line. You just hold your man off until you get him in there, and then get him to talk. That’s all you need to trouble about We’ll do the rest. You get your boat at 6:30 at One Hundred and Twenty-ninth street, and when you enter your stateroom take off your hat and wipe your forehead so our men will have a spot

on you and know that everything Is all right” I came out and told Donlin that I had reserved a stateroom for us by phone. I had no idea of how all this was going to work out, but I followed directions implicitly. The New York American Leaguers were playing Detroit that day, and Donlin being a fan we went to the game. It was my purpose to keep him in a crowd so be would have no temptation to begin his tale of woe until we got on the boat It seems strange to think of a detective working himself Into a sweat to keep his quarry from making a confession, but that is what I did this afternbon. After the game we hurried from the ball grounds to the boat, where, as we entered our room, I removed my hat and wiped my forehead, as per directions. Two young fellows, apparently clerks, had staterooms on either side of ours, but it was not until later that I knew what part they were playing in our programme. *• I waited until the boat had cast off before I began the line of talk I had decided upon. I began to curse my luck, my supposed former employer, my alleged brother, my assumed wife, and everybody that I could think of. I played the part of a whimperer to a finish. > "If they’d only stuck by me in the first place,” I walled, "I would never have been in any trouble, and now that I’m in they’re throwing me

down. Well, thereto one satisfaction: I’ll take some of ’em with me when I go down.” "How ranch did you get cut of it?” demanded DonHn suddenly. I looked at him and knew he had read the letter. “I’ll come through with about $16.000," I said. "But I wouldn’t go through this worry again for ten times that much.” r "Hell," he growled. "And you’re kicking! What would you say to taking a measly little twenty-five hundred from a dirty bunch of rich crooks and going around with everybody suspecting you of having done it?" —"Say, Cornell,” he said, striking the side of hiß chair. "You think you’ve been steered up against it and thrown down, hut let me tell you that you don’t know what a raw deal la Here now, listen to me. I want to tell you this; you've got to listen. Why, darn it, man, you’ve got to listen. I’ll go crazy if I don't tell somebody.” - He loosened his collar and went on. “Here a little over a month ago old man Smythe, our mayor, and, Bruley, the commissioner of public works, and the rest of that bunch of high-binders that runs things in Peeksville, got Into a mesa They’d tried to get a contractor named Kellner to help them sting the city for $30,000. He turned on 'em and wouldn’t give ’em a chance, and to get even with him they cut down his charge tor work on the waterworks contract $15,000. Well, he comes out and sues them. He’s got a cinch case, see, and the best they can hope for is to pack the jury and get a disagreement. "Old Smythe says, Donlin, you're drawn on the venire for the jury that is going to sry this case. We want you on there, you understand; we want to have one of our friends on that jury. We’re glad of the chance to have yon on because we know you’re one of us and we all want to stick together. We will see that you get on that Jury—don’t worry about that —and there’ll be a little envelope slipped into your pocket as you leave here, and—the worst we want is a disagreement. Understand?*" "How long ago was this?” "Only a little more than a month ago,” he said. "Just three days before the trial —the night of May 23rd. Well, as I was saying, I went out, and when I got home I felt In my pocket and there was the envelope—with $2,500 In it” - >* , “Didn’t you see them slip the envelope to you?” I asked. “Sure," he said. "Bruley slipped it into my pocket and winked and slapped me on the shoulder when he did It. Well, they got me accepted for the jury all right Then Bruley comes to me and says: ‘Say, Donlin, don't forget you’re one of us now. You've got to deliver the goods.’ “Well, I delivered the goods, all right. Tho other eleven men wanted to kill me, but I hung out. ‘No judgment,’ I said, ‘or I’ll stay out until Christmas.’ I earned that $2,500 all right—we disagreed. And the other day Mrs. Smythe gives a lawn party and never a word about Inviting Mrs. Donlin. Oh, yes, I was one of them all right—when they needed me.” “Pshaw!” I said. “You hung a Jury for ’em for .wenty-flve hundred, and now they’re tumi g cold to you?” “Yes. That’s the kind they are.” “Pshaw r I said. “Now let's go and get something to eat. I’m desperately hungry." I haven’t given Donlin’s complete conversation here, but only the gist of his confession. But Donlin himself had a complete typewritten report of his talk in the stateroom banded to him in the hotel in Albany two days later. The Chief and the office manager called on him unexpectedly in his room and, handing him a carbon copy of his conversation, asked him if there were any inaccuracies to be corrected in it “I guess that’s about. right” said the Chief casually. “We knew all the time that the reason you hung that jury was to save those fellows, and we knew yon weren't doing it for your health; but we wanted to get you to tell us all about it yourself, so we got it when you were talking to your friend on the boat the other night. Now, Donlin, we’ve got the goods on you,” said Burns ."You’ve got two chances. One is to make us put you in prison for accepting a bribe; the other is to go with us and help us to make those crooks, who paid you, pay our client his $15,000 without any more lawsuits. What are you going to do; go to jail, or come on our side?” Donlin was staring at tne report in dazed fashion. There it was, every word that he had said, every question that I had asked, down in carbon; and we had been in a locked stateroom while we were talking, and he had been with me ever since. He was dumbfounded for a while. Then he expressed the universal cariosity over detective work. He looked, up In amazement at the Chief and said: "Well! How in the devil did you ever do it?” But it was not the Chiefs disposition to give away the tricks of the trade. It was not until several dayi later, when Donlin’s confession had frightened the politicians at Peeksville into acknowledging Contractor Kenner’s bill in full, that I knew that In each of the steterpoms adjoining ours there had been a stenographer with his ear to a dictagraph all the way up the river, and that Donlin literally had made his confession in the hearing of three people. “That was just a jAece of bullheaded luck, wasn’t it?” I asked Chief Burns. “Oh, no,” he said. "We had tried five other men on him before you; we were sure to get somebody he would Sake to and blab his head off. It was only a question of time. Most detective work is