Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 January 1913 — The TRUTH ABOUT THE CASE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The TRUTH ABOUT THE CASE

The Experiences of M. F. Goron, Ex-Chief \of the Paris Detective Police A DRAMATIC HOLIDAY

(Copyright by J. B. Lippincott Co.)

I was chief df the detective police I remember to have taken but few holilAw days. Many a time VGb* ” had I packed my / trunk, In the hope of spending a week or a fortnight in a secluded spot among peaceable citizens, but gomehow or other fate ordained that the train that was to carry me away should start, leaving fne and my luggage behind. “One of these days you will collapse/’ my friends used to say; and, like all evil predictions, theirs came true. I had been fearfully busy. There had been an avalanche of crimes, and the strain had begun to tell on me, to an obligato accompaniment of headache, sleeplessness, and other unpleasant symptoms. With a mistaken sense of duty I tried to cling to my post, but when I saw I had the medical faculty against me, I gave up the battle and promised to take a rest.. -- "■... : The following day, as I was walking down the Rue de la Paix a voice like thunder called out my name. I did not see the man, but I knew that in the whole of France only one person possessed such ah organ—my old friend Stanislas Tilon, a captain in the merchant navy.

Good old Stanislas, who stood six feet three, had not only a tremendous voice—everything with him was big. He seized both my hands in his lion grip, and, having knocked* my stick out of my hand, and my hat off my head, he conducted, or rather dragged, me to the Case de la Paix. “Fancy meeting you!” he roared. “I came back on Tuesday last, and am off again the day after tomorrow. But what’s the matter with you? You look out of sorts.” “The fact Is,” I said, “I am not very well. The doctors say I must take a holiday.” Down came Stanislas’ fist, upsetting all the dominoes on the table next to ours. “You want a thorough holiday? I’ll give you one. You may bless your stars you met me. We are running a regular line of steamers from Bordeaux to St. Louis, on the African coast, stopping at Madeira and Teneriffe. They are capital boats, carrying only a small number of passengers. lam in command of the Gambia, the most comfortable of the lot. You’ll be my guest, and the sea will put you right in no time. We are going only as far as Tenerlffe, so that you will be back in three weeks. I’ll give you one of the two deck cabins, and you’ll be as happy there as a king. We have a splendid cook, and as nice a lot of passengers as you’d wish to meet." Stanislas* proposition tempted me. My shaken nerves clamored for a rest such ds I knew I should find on the high seas! and, after a few objections, immediately overruled by my friend, I accepted his Invitation. The following day at two In the afternoon I arrived at Bordeaux, and went straight on board. Stanislas welcomed me with unaffected joy, and after an excited and whispered discussion between him apd the steward, the latter took my valise to the deck cabin on the starboard side. The rain was coming down in torrents as I descended to the saloon to join my shipmates. Several persons were sitting at the long tables, some writing, others reading, and I noticed one, a pronounced German type—his name was Von Winter drinking champagne and playing solitaire. Before the dinner hour had struck Stanislas had Introduced me to everybody. Besides Von Winter there were M. Van Vloot, a rich wine importer, with an aquiline nose, and the shortest legs I have ever seen belonging to a maA of his size, and his wife, a stout lady, afflicted with toothache; Mr. Aylmer Knowles, a Scotchman with an expressionless face, accompanied his wife and daughter, the latter an unusually pretty girl; Father Glass, a priest; Monsieur Waskywicz, of no nationality, with comic eyes, fat cheeks, blue with the razor, who turned out to be a comedian; Dr. Lopez, an oculist; and Senor Gonzales, a South American Spaniard, a handsome, aristocratic looking man, whose temper seemed to be considerably ruffled. I guessed that our loquacious captain had been talking about me, for not only the passengers watched me with curiosity, but the crew stared at me open-mouthed. As there was a piano in the saloon, and none in the smoking room, I decided to make the latter my headquarters. “Hallo, old chap,” roared Stanislas. “How do you like your hotel? Where do you want to sit at table? Near that pretty Scotch girl, I suppose.” “Since you ask me,” I replied, "you can place me between the German and tnc lady with the toothache. Neither of them looks talkative, and that just suits mo.” "Poor Goron,” said my friend, giving me a slap on the shoulder that sent my book overboard, "wait a couple of days, and you’ll see the good the breeze will do you.”

“It looks like clearing up," I remarked, for the rain had stopped. ‘/Don’t build on that, sonny. The glass has tumbled, and I expect after midnight we’U have a fine dance. They’ll all be in bed by that time. I hope.” Stanislas had given me the seat of honor at the table, on his right, but he was too busy to put in an appearance. On my other side was Senor Gonzales, still very upset, and growling to the steward something I could not hear about his cabin. The German, who kept on drinking champagne, was the first to address me, with the question: “Do you play poker?” “I never gamble. Why do you ask?” “Because we might have a game in the smoking room tonight. I thought perhaps you’d like to join.” “I will join you in a smoke," I said, “but not in the game. I never play.” “I’m awfully fond of a spin at poker,” put in M. Van Vloot, “and so Is Becky, if her tooth does not worry her. How is your too th, Becky ?” “Thank you, Sol, I feel much better. I dare say a little game would just put me right And I don’t mind the smoke.” Igr. Knowles, who had not opened his lips at dinner, remarked in a rasping voice: “A sea trip without poker is like a dog without a tail. I’ll play, too.” “I’ll also take a hand,” said Mr. Lopez.

“I gamble on principle,” grunted the comedian; “it’s the only principle 1 have,” a joke which sent Mme. Van Vloot into a fit of imbecile laughter. As soon as dinner was over there was a general rush for the smoking room, and in the saloon remained only the priest and Mrs. Knowles, dozing in their chairs; and Miss Knowles, a book on her lap, deep in thought, with a smile on her pretty face. For a long time I paced the deck enjoying the fresh air and the stillness around me, and having wished Stanislas good night, I decided to turn in, when curiosity prompted me to see how the gamblers were getting on. Mme. Van Vloot was standing in the door the smoking room, very much out of temper. “Don’t you play?” I asked. “I have played,” she replied In a solemn tone, “and I have lost my money. And so has Sol, and so has that German gentleman, and so has Mr. Knowles, and so has the actor with the funny name. We have 'all lost our money. Senor Gonzales has raked it all in. What luck that man has! I never saw anything like it.” As I entered the room Gonzales passed me. He was tired, he said, and wanted to go to rest. I saw the other players looking at one another, and the atmosphere seemed with voiceless currents of thought. “He cleared us out very nicely,” at last remarked Mr. Knowles. “He did,” repeated the others in chorus. “I’ll tell you what I think —■" began Van Vloot in an excited tone. “You needn’t express your thoughts,’ cut in Mr. Knowles, “for we all think the same thing. As for me, I don’t intend to play again with that gentleman; and I wish you all pleasant dreams.” I was beginning to feel more contented. Our old steamer was pot so black as she was painted, and beneath her somewhat fresh exterior she hid a few sterling qualities in the way of comfort. I lit another cigarette and resumed my walk. But a change had come over the weather. It was blowing very hard, and the waves rolled in mountains under a sky of lead! In less than a quarter of an hour a gale broke, and heavy seas swamped the deck. “You’d better turn in,” said the first officer, “it will get worse during the night.” I followed bld advice, although sleep was out of the question. The wind howled' and the water crashed against the side of the steamer with a deafening noise. It was anything but soothing to the nerves. Toward five in the morning I dozed off, and may have slept for half an hour, when I was roughly shaken and some one called out my name. I felt the wind blow on me through the open door, and there stood Stanislas with the first officer behind him. “Come at once,” shouted the captain, “we want you!” Having forced me Into my trousers and coat, he took me to the cabin on the port side, facing mine. The storm had abated, but. there was still a heavy sea, and Stanislas gripped my arm to steady me. The steward stood outside as If on guard. Stanislas pushed him aside, opened the door, and said: “Look at that!” I recoiled with horror. The cabin was bespattered with blood. “Great heavens! Whose berth is this?'* I asked. . “Gonzales’,” replied Stanislas. "But where Is he?” “We can't find a trace of him. An hour ago the steward, fancying he heard him call, opened the door and nearly dropped with fright. He' al

once came to me, and, while I sent him to every cabin to account for the passengers, I mustered the crew. Only poor Gonzales is missing. Do you mind helping me 4ft this business. Goron? I am -so distressed I do not know what course to take?” “All right old chap,” I said; “I did not come here to hunt criminals, but I will do what I can.” I made a careful examination of everything In the cabin. Gonsales' watch was on a small shelf near the bed, on the top of some bank notes and gold—probably his winnings of the night before. A pocket book stuffed with notes was lying next to it, also his scarf, in which a valuable diamond pin was stuck. “Did Gonzales not have a big gray ulster?" I asked. “Yes, he had,” replied my friend, “and I do not see it here. “I'll have a search made for it; and if it is gone, it will be rather strange.” “No, not so strange as you think," I said. “I fancy I can account for its absence.” “What is it?” cried Stanislas excitedly. “What do you make pi it?” “You will know that in a moment You must now take all the valuables and seal them up. In the meanwhile I will stay here and make a closer inspection.” When everything had been removed from the cabin and the door locked, I said: “And now I want to look. at the crew.” i At my request every man stripped to the waist, but although I carefully examined their arms and necks, I could not detect the slightest scratch or bruise of recent date. Nor, when I overhauled every article of clothing and linen they possesed, did I find any blood stains. At their own request I subjected the officers to the same treatment I next questioned the of-

fleers and men who had been on duty between eleven o’clock the night before and four in the morning. Nobody had seen or heard anything suspicious. “What do you make of it?” I asked Stanislas. “Some of the facta are plain enough. Gonzales’ throat was cut with a sharp instrument —probably a razor. He Was lying on his right side, with his face to the wall. There was no struggle. Had there been any in that harrow space, the objects lying about would have been disturbed.” At that moment the stewaid came to tell us that, the ulster had not been found." » , “I expected this,” I said. "The murderer, to prevent himself being blood-stained, took the precaution of wrapping the body in the ulster before pitching it overboard. The dark night, and the sea washing the deck during the gale helped him in his work.” “Have you heard of the scene at poker last night?” my friend suddenly asked. “I have. Did they play high?" "Yes. From what I gathered. Von Winter and Lopez lost a big amount, and Waskywicz, the actor, also came off badly.” “Do you suspect Gonzales of not having played a fair game? They threw out some unpleasant hinta.” "I have known Gonzales for two years. Once before I bad him as a passenger, and this Is the first time I heard of such a thing.” “I will finish dressing," I said; “and in the meantime you can have a talk with the passengers. I dare say they all know by now what has happened. I will join you id the saloon.”

When I came in I beheld a curious spectacle. Mme. Van Vloot lay in a swoon on the sofa, and her husband was holding a smelling-bottle to her nose. AU looked terror-stricken, and they all sat apart eyeing one another with suspicion. Stanislas stood erect at the head of the table, and had just left off speaking? A silence fell upon the assembly when they saw me, and Mr. Knowles said: “M. Goron', the captain has told us of the awful catastrophe that happened in the night, and he has informed us you have kindly consented to give him the benefit of your experience to inquire into the matter before we reach Madeira, We are anx» ious to give you all the assistance we can.” I then questioned them all in turn; but they knew nothing. With the exception of Von Winter none of the passengers had left their cabins during the night As to the latter, he stated that at two in the morning, feeling very hot, he had stood for a while on the stairs leading to the saloon, without having seen or heard anything suspicious. Half an hour later, as I went toward the smoking room, one of the sailors asked me to come to the captain’s cabin. I found Lopez there. “M. Lopez,” said Stanislas, “wishes to ask you something.” “M. Goron,” began Lopez, “did Von Winter mention to you a violent discussion he had with M. Gonzales after the game?” ( “No, he did not” “When I went to bed Von Winter was alone In the saloon readlqg.' I was just beginning to undress when I heard a noise of people quarreling. 1 opened my door, walked toward the saloon, and saw Von Winter gesticulating, apparently in a great rage, s L listened, but could not catch a word they said. It lasted only a minute or

so, and I saw Gonzales walk awayshrugging his shoulders.” “Did you, or any one else, refer to this to Von Winter?” "No. He is very reserved, in fact rather unsociable; and since he came on board he has hardly conversed with any one.” I went in search of the German, and found him smoking his pipe right aft. - “You had,” I said, "a dispute with Gonzales last night How is it you never mentioned this to me?" He turned red, bit his lip, and then said: “I ought to have told you, but I was ashamed to do so.' I played like a fool, and lost a lot of money—more than I can afford. I then had an idea —and the others had it, too —that M. Gonzales had —well, not played a fair game. I was too annoyed to go to bed, and sat alone in the saloon reading, when he walked in. I am sorry to say my temper got the better of me, and I accused him of having cheated, whereupon he flew into a fearful rage, called me a scoundrel, and said he would have the matter out with me this morning. You can Imagine how I was shocked when I heard what bad occurred. I'suppose this story has by now gone the round of the steamer, and to judge from the way my fellow passengers look at me, they have settled among themselves that it is I who murde'red M. Gonzales. I shall remember this trip!” And, without watting for what I might have to say. he replaced his pipe between bls lips and resumed his walk. Von Winter’s last statement proved correct. He was boycotted, and when after dinner 1 went to the captain’s

cabin, Stanislas expressed his opinion that the case against the German looked suspicions. “Do you mean to tell me seriously," I asked, “that you suspect Von Winter F* . "I say he was the first person .1 thought of in connection jwith the crime; and by following that track we might get the truth. Why do you look so surprised?” “Because you make light of the most important feature of this case. You may knock out of your head the idea that Von Winter played a part in that awful drama. I cannot prevent our passengers from finding him guilty, but, fortunately for him, they cannot hang him. I have done some reconnoitering, and have come to a strange, yet conceivable conclusion. I think I have found my way to the mystery, but the key Is missing.” The steward, happening to come in, told us for the fifth time how, when at four that morning he brought thecaptain his coffee, he fancied he heard some one call out, which caused him to look into Gonzales* cabin. A thought suddenly struck me. “Steward,” said L “I heard M. Gonzales whisper something to you about his cabin, and he seemed upset. What did he want of you?” The steward silently glanced at the captain. “It is all right,” said the latter to him; “you can go on. I will explain the case to M. Goron.” “Goron,” he stammered, “I am sorry ,you found that out The truth is I had a little trouble with Gonzales, and you were the Innocent cause of It A few months ago when Gonzales traveled with me on this steamer he had the starboard cabin, and he bodked it again this time. Yesterday afternoon I saw the glass fall rapidly, and not knowing, how long the bad weather might last, I ordered the steward.

as you were my guest, to give you that cabin, where you would be more comfortable. I forbade him to mention this to you, and made him explain to Gonzales that a mistake had been made, and that this cabin had been retained by you long in advance. Gonzales was very much annoyed.” "You double-barreled idiot!” I shouted. "Why did you conceal this from me?” "Goron—l say—" gasped Stanislas. "Great heavens! To think that of all people, you, Stanislas, should have been walking about with the key of the mystery in your pocket. It seems fantastic!" “I—had—the—” “Yes, you have been playing the fool’s part In this affair. How long before I came on board did you do that shuffling of cabins?” “About an hour, I should say, and —” "And everybody on board knew the day before that your friend Goron had the cabin on the port side?" "Most likely, but —” He stopped, stared at me wildly for a few seconds, and caught both my hands. “Goron, my dear old friend,” he cried, with a sob in his voice, "I see what you are hinting at It is too horrible to be true.” "I see you have grasped my theory," I said. "Yes. Stanislas, it was I whom the murderer had marked out. and your changing those cabins probably saved my life. But at what a price!” For a while we sat in silence. "I suppose you have by this time spotted the murdererT’ asked my friend.

“Yes, I suspected a certain persow from the very start But it is getting late, and, for many reasons, it would * be unwise for mo to act tonight Tomorrow morning I will bring the culprit before you.” , “You don’t think I’ll let you sleep in ydur cabin tonight!” exclaimed Stanislas. "You’ll share mine.” Knowing it would be useless to argue with him, I gave in. Before retiring to rest I . went to the saloon to see how the passengers were getting on, and could hardly repress a smile. They had organized a kind of vigilance committee, and two of them watched in turns, with special injunctions to keep an eye on . Von Winter. "And now,” I said to my friend the next morning, “we will reconstruct the drama and take action. I warn you, however, that we have to be circumspect, for we have to deal with a crafty man, crafty because he is insane. He is one of your crew.” “Do you mean to say I have a lunatic among my ship’s company, and never knew it?” "How do you know he is not mad? If all the lunatlcs were locked up, the 'Faris streets would be empty. Now please follow my reasoning. When I arrived on board I strolled about, amused myself taking stock, not only of the passengers, but of the sailors, when I came across a man with a very dirty face—one of your stokers —who had a curious way of narrowing his eyes to a slit when he spoke. I also noticed he had a slight limp.” “That’s Comtat,” said Stanislas. “Had I been In harness this peculiarity might have presented itself to me in a way of a problem; but here, resting from my labors, I confess I did not even give it a thought Yesterday morning, however, after we made that awful discovery, and you and I went down to the engine room,, this man Comtat was leaning, half dozing, against the wall, and, seeing me, he started. It was not the normal start of a person suddenly awakened from a slumber; it was just a trifle more; enough to rouse my suspicion. The problem being now thrust upon me, I had to solve it; and, having made certain that I had arrested this man some years ago for attempting to murder one of his fellow workmen, I felt convinced it was he who killed the unfortunate Gonzales in the belief he was dispatching me. No landsman could have performed the deed In such a businesslike manner during that gale. It could only have been a sallow—and your Comtat is the man.” “He was wreaking vengeance on your* “Vengeance? No, my friend. Al discharged convict will turn on one of his former pals who betrayed him. But have you ever heard of a criminal wreaking vengeance, as you call it, on the judge who sentenced him, or on the governor of the prison who kept him under lock and key? I know of only two such cases, and both times it was proved the assailant was mad. And now, please, send for the chief engineer.” “M. Seguier," I said to that gentleman, “I want to talk with you about Comtat How long has he been with you?" “About eight months. He came to me from a Dutch steamer, and brought an excellent certificate.” "But he drinks, I suppose?” “Ah, there’s the trouble. I heard from the other stokers that Comtat had smuggled several bottles of absinthe on board, and, although I searched everywhere, I cannot detect the place where he secreted them. When he is on duty he is sober; but after he retires to his, bunk he absorbs, I am afraid, a' quantity of liquor." "I quite agree with you, M. Seguier,” I replied. “In the meantime I beg of you to keep a careful watch on him.” “I understand, M. Goron. Do you want to see the man now?” "No. Send him to me at midday." An hour later I was sitting in the smoking room thinking of my coming interview with Comtat, when some one shouted my name: "You are wanted at once in the engine room, sir." As I climbed down the iron ladder, sinister shrieks came from below. The captain and our young doctor were bending over the prostrate engineer, bleeding from an ugly gash in the forehead, while half a dozen men were holding Comtat, who was foaming at the mouth and uttering unearthly yells. M. Seguier, it appears, had discovered where Comtat hid his absinthe and had taken possession of the stock, whereupon Comtat, in a violent passion, had hurled an empty bottle at the engineer's head and had tried to grab his throat. M. Beguier*s wound fortunately was not dangerous, and the doctor took his arm to conduct him upstairs. The moment Comtat caught sight again of the engineer bls frenzy returned. "You hound!” he’ howled. "Yon thief!—l’ll be quits with you. I’ll cut your throat and pitch your body overboard like I did to the other man! Yes, over you’ll go, you thief!" "It’s a bad case of delirium tremens,” remarked our doctor to me, “and, as it not unfrequently happens, the tremor is hardly perceptible. Absinthe. more than any other spirit, will prodqpe these result* ” Toward evening Comtat was seized with a worse fit, when be described the murder scene In all its ghastly detain. At the same time be told how he had watched me come on board, and there and then made the determination to take my life, and until be saw me the morning after the murder was convinced that the ma* be had killed was myself.

The Captain and our Yong doclor were bending over the prostrate engineer