Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 February 1913 — The TRUTH ABOUT THE CASE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The TRUTH ABOUT THE CASE

The Experiences of M. F. Goron, Ex-Chief of tlje Paris Detective Police Edited by Albert Keyzer , > HUNTING THE GANG

March, 3rd, 1892, at 4 j m o’clock in the afternoon, three men entered the wineshop in the Rue Saintkept by M. Desvoia, at the comer of - -the Rue W d e ia Grande Truanderie. They ordered a bottle of wine, and went upstairs for a Same of billiards. Of the two doors in the billiard-room, one opened into the bedroom, whilst the other led to the entrance in the Rue de la Grande Truanderie. After half an hour Mme. Desvois, not hearing the noise of the billiard ])alls, went upstairs, and, to her surprise, saw the door, of the bedroom ajar. At that moment one of the men came forward, and Mme. Desvois, convinced they were burglars, called for help. At her shrieks the three fellows rushed out, knocked her over, and ran away. Two oi them escaped unseen, by the back door, but the third found himself in the Rue de la Grande Truanderie followed by a crowd attracted by the woman’s cries. On the point of being overtaken, the man drew a revolver,, fired at a youth who had seized his coat tails, and shot him down. The mad chase continued towards the Rue Pierre-Lescot, where he fired again, killing a cabinet-maker called Martinot. M. Bottelier, an employe, was his third victim; for the poor man, with a bullet in the groin, died on his way to the hospital. The murderer sped along, brandishing his weapon, when a M. Guyomard caught him pluckily by the throat and felled him to the ground. The police had the greatest trouble to prevent him from being lynched. With his clothes torn to shreds, and bleeding from several wounds, he was first conveyed to the police-station in the Rue des Prouvalres, and afterwards brought before me. He was a short, thick-set, deter-mined-looking man with a stronglydeveloped jaw, and a curious hard expression in the eyes—the type of the brute. He gave his name as Crampon ; and we diseovered that under the name of Bonfantini he had already undergohe several long terms of imprisonment. / When I asked him for the names of bis accomplices he looked at me with an ugly grin. “What for? To obtain favors? No, thank you. I am not going to harm them. Besides, I am sick of everything. I want to be ‘blitte.’ ” * “Are you sorry you killed these poor men?’’ “Sorry? Not I. Or, rather, I am sorry; for 1 had Btlll two shots in my revolver; and, but for that meddling idiot, you would not see me here to 1 day.” I did not prolong this conversation, and waited till the next day, when I bad him once more brouglft before me, and again questioned him about his accomplices. “Save yourself the trouble,” he said with a sneer, “you’ll get nothing out of me. I want to be ‘butte.’ ” Crampon had a sweetheart, a certain Maria Thouvenin, then lying ill at the Charlte hospital. *1 searched her room, and found a uniform of a private in the Fourth Infantry, which I took away with me. The excitement in Paris, when that horrible murder became known, was intense and the press clamored for the arrest of the two men who accompanied Crampon on that fatal afternoon. Unfortunately,’ Mme. Desvois was unable to give me their description, and none of my men, although well acquainted with the criminals ■ and their haunts, could supply any clue. I sent for Inspector Larose —an experienced official —and described to him a fellow I had seen some months ago with Crampon enter a bar. Larose thought a long time and then said:

"Well, sir, I think J know the man, but I doubt whether he belongs to the Crampon gang.” "He may or he may not I noticed his hair; It was cut short and looked as If he had left the regiment" Larose looked up. "I begin to see it now, sir; it would be funny if he turned out to be our man. His name la Georges Plessls, and he is employed in a wineshop in the Rue du Bac.” “All right; let us go there at once." Twenty minutes later we alighted and enquired after Plessls. "He will be done in a minute," said the proprietor of the establishment; *he is bringing down his trunk.” “His trunkT” I asked. "Is he going away?” "Tea, sir. He had a telegram, last night, from his old aunt, who is very ill." . Whilst he spoke, Plessls came down the stairs with a big box on his shoulder, and nearly dropped it when he saw us. We put him in the cab, and took him, -box and all, to the prefecture, where he denied ever haring seen Crampon. “Why were you so anxious to leare Paris?” I said, j“I had a telegram " "Tea, I know. But I want to ask •Slang term for "guillotined.”

(Copyright by J. B. Lipplncott Co.}

#:y " r -Jr you why you did not do your military service? You are a defaulter.” “I defaulter!" he cried. "I have served my time; and in a fine regiment, too.” aag ; ;■' ; ‘- „„JSWhere?” “In the Fourth Infantry.” “What has become of your uniform?” "My uniform? My uniform? I I —must have lost it.” “I think I have found it. Undo that parcel in the corner, and put on the coat and trousers.” i, . He did so, and they fitted him like a glove. “You left them with Marla Thouvenin,” I said, “and you had better make a clean breast of it.” ; He reflected a moment, and then confessed having been with Crampon on the day of the murder; but, like Crampon, he positively-refused-to give the name of the other man. “I’ll tell you all about myself, M. Goron, but I’ll never round on my pal; no, never. And Til bet you’ll never catch him either." “We will see about that,” I replied. The following morning I sent again for Inspector Inrose. “Larose,Vl began, “Plessis two years ago bVoke his leg, and was nursed at Msngin’s house by that man’s sister. They are great pals?" “Yes, sir. And he even wanted to marry the girl. “Right. Then arrest Mangln for being implicated in this affair and bring him here at once.” “I beg your pardon, sir, but I am certain Mangin had nothing to do with this business.” “So am I; and that is why I want you to bring him to me.” No doubt it seems horrible that I should arrest a man I knew to be innocent. But I saw no other way of laying my hands on a desperate character, who, at any moment, might have slipped through my fingers. And, before too much sympathy is wasted on Mangin, it should be remembered that this gentleman had spent about a thjrd of his life in prison. lie and Plessis belonged to the worst class of criminals. But I had had frequent opportunities of noticing that one chord, that of friendship, would vibrate in men of even that stamp; and it was on/that I based the experiment I was about to make.

Mangin had been so often in custody that he did not look upset when he was marched into my office. And as he knew he was Innocent of the crime imputed to him, he could afford io be sarcastic. “What’s the use,” he said, f‘of hauling me in, when the fish who did the mischief is still swimming about? I was not in this affair.’’ “That remains to bei seen.” “I was not in this affair,” he repeated violently. “Hold your tongue. You and Plessis were both in it” After I had worked him to a high pitch of excitement I sent for Plessis, and then witnessed a curious scene, the one on which I had reckoned. When Plessis was ushered in, and saw Mangin, he seemed dumbfounded, but he greeted him heartily with a: “Bonjour, mon vieux!” The other glared at him. “You are a nice kind of friend,” he hissed, “to denounce a pal you know to be innocent You scoundrel!” “I swear," shrieked Plessis, “I never mentioned your name! Ask M. Goron —ask him.” “He speaks the truth,” I interposed; "he refused to give me the name of the third man who went with Crampon that afternoosTto the Rue SaintDenis; but as I feel sure you, Mangin, are that man, I had you arrested.” Mangin growled and turned on Plessis.

"Am' I to understand that in order to screen a pal of yours who took part in this business you actually let me, your best friend, suffer?” If at that moment a member of the French academy, whose duty it is to expurge every strange word from our language, had entered my room he WQuld have been horrified. For I and these two men were talking “the green tongue”—as It Is called here—the slang in which Paris criminals feel so much more at home than in honest French. To the fact of my being able to converse in that queer idiom I attribute, In some measure, the influence I always have had over members of that class. , r "Two years ago,” continued Mangin, "when you had oome to grief, and the police—” "Shut up. you fool," shouted the angry Plessls. "I shan’t shut up, you white-livered sneak. You want to leave me in quod, when you know I had no hand in this? Look here, M. Qoron, as he Refuses to speak, I will. And you shall know something about this ” “Stop your talk” bawled Plessls, wiping the perfplratlon from his forehead, “I glue in; it's no use fighting any longer. M. Qoron, my friend Is innocent; he was never near the place on that day. Let him go, and I’ll tell you rho it is you are after.” He paced the room In uncontrolled agitation, talking rapidly as if to get the load off his mind.

“It is Joseph Slmetiere. And now don’t ask me anything else —for I shall not answer.” \ ■ He then looked expectantly at Mangin, and the two shook hands. I rang the bell “This man," I said, pointing to Mangin, “is to be released.” - And he walked away, proud at having only been three hours in custody, a thing which, I am sure, liad never happened to him before. Joseph Slmetiere was a dangerous bandit. No time had to be lost, and that same night I went in search of him, accompanied by two of my men. I knew Slmetiere was a frequenter of a low dancing place in the Roe Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve, where the worst characters congregated. At an early hour I went there with my companions,, whom I left a little distance off, and walked straight into a small room, from which, through a window closed by a curtain, everything could be seen that went on in the hall. This closet bore the curious name of “the Grand Duke’s observatory,” for it was from there that two of the Russian grand dukes had once watched the entertainment. “Do you expect Joseph Slmetiere tonight?” I asked the proprietor, who had every reason to assist the police. “Yes, he comes here constantly. But his-pals are always with him, and in your stead I would V . “Thank you. Ido not want your advice. Stay here, and tell me'when he enters.” " [■_ After an hour he called out: “Here he is!”

Simetiere, a sinister-looking scoundrel, with three men and a woman, all desperate characters, Bat down, ordered drinks, and started a conversation, which, above the squeak of fiddles and the thumping of feet, I could not hear. If was fortunate I had taken the precaution of locking the door, for the woman crossed the hall, and —I do not known for what reasontried to come In. When I saw the fellow rise, I stole out, and joined my companions, whom I conducted to a dark doorway by which Simetiere had to pass. “It is no good making a selection,” I whispered to my men, “we must take our chance.” * A few minutes after midnight we saw Simetiere come down the street. One of his friends walked by his side; the others were a few‘yards behind. The instant the two were level with us we rushed at them and before they could utter a cry they were bound, thrown into a cab. and taken off. The other man we had arrested was Thevenin, an old offender, and this, as It turned out, proved a lucky haul, for the next morning, when Simetiere was brought before me, he scowled angrily, and said: “I am sure it Is that coward Thevenin who has rounded on me; and I’ll be even with him. Yes, I was in the affair of the Rue Saint-Denis; but Thevenin, that ugly rat, was the third man.”

This was at variance with what Flessis had told me. Bat Instead of doubting Slmetiere’s statement I guessed that Plessis had only told me half the truth and that there was a fourth. My supposition proved correct, for, having confronted Crampon with the other three, it turned out that while Crampon with Simetiere and Thevenin had gone to the billiardroom in the Plessis had kept watch outside, which accounted for the fact that no one had seen him. The public were delighted when it was announced that the men in connection with the Rue Saint-Denis crime were in custody; but I was not satisfied. Crampon was the head of a gang who had been, or were still, committing depredations, and 1 could not rest until that whole pack had been routed. And I may remark here that the post of chief of the Paris detective police is not a bed of roses. He certainly disposes of men in whose courage he can place reliance; but when a dangerous expedition on a big scale is planned, the chief has to place himself at their head and risk his life—like they do.

I had also to overcome a serious difficulty, that of laying my hand on the whole lot in one swoopj for I knew full well that if I caught only two or three the rest would disappear, and I should have to start a fresh hunt. I, therefore, sent for Latrille, an active young officer, who possessed the talent of disguising himself in such a marvelous manner that I often failed to recognize him when I met him in one of the passages of the prefecture. I instructed him to watch the gang, and keep me informed of their movements. Their favorite meeting-place was a low tavern in the Rue Aubry-le-Boucber. A few days later, Latrille told me that the whole gang were to meet that evening, whereupon I made all my arrangements. One by one, so as not to awaken any suspicion, we met in a passage close by that tavern, whenqe, unseen. We could watch the neighborhood. The night was dark, and the street bore an indescribably gloomy look. But, instead of the silence that would befit such a place, the air was rent with sounds of scuffles and brawls. Occasionally shrieks would be heard, shrieks that would not affect anybody about there.’ Little they cared whether it was an ordinary quarrel or murder; whatever it might be, it was common enough in the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher. A vlllanous-looklng man grabbed a woman by the throat, and, with curses, demanded something that she kept hidden beneath her cloak. But, quick as lightning, she whipped out a knife, whereupon the fellow slunk off, and she continued her way as if nothing had occurred. At a quarter past one a shabby-look-ing individual, with a dirty rag over

his left eye, passed our hiding-place, and, turning sharply around, whispered: “Come, quick; now is the time!” It was Latriile. I placed myself at the head of my men, and in less than a minute we were in the den, a narrow room, with a small har covered with zinc, tables , and. chairs along the wall. Half' a dozen ruffians were sitting there, listening attentively to one of their party, who was emphasizing his words with a bottle he held in his hand. - And then the scramble began. Three were overpowered before they could make use of their weapons; but the others fought like savages. One, with a knife between his teeth, had barricaded himself behind a table, and fired revolver shots at us; while the other two, armed with huge knives, threw themselves upon those nearest to them. Brunet received an ugly gash in the thigh, and poor Larose was shot in the leg. Suddenly one of my men shouted: c “Look out, sir.” I turned quickly, and saw a fellow, who had been hiding underneath a table, pointing a pistol at me. But the arm that held it was caught, wrenched backward, and, with a howl, he fell on the floor. In less than five minutes everything was over, and my prisoners, carefully handcuffed, were conveyed to the prefecture. Then came the day of reckoning. Crampon and hiß accomplices were committed for trial.. Of the eight who trere arraigned, seven were . sent to penal servitude; but Crampon, the murderer, was sentenced to death. The latter, who had told me twice that he wanted to be, as he called it, “butte,” had hoped that his sentence would be commuted to transportation for life; but on the sixteenth of December, in the afternoon, I was officially informed that his execution would take place the following day. At five o’elock the next morning, Deibler, the executioner, arrived on the Place de la Rouquette to build up the guillotine; and punctually tft seven I followed M, Beauquesne, the governor of the Roquette prison, into Crampon's cell. The examining magistrate, the police commissary of the Roquette district, two other officials, and three warders accompanied us. When we entered, Crampon, who was sitting on his bed, turned livid. "Crampon," said M. Beauquesne, “the moment of expiation has arrived.” The condemned man tried to speak, but we heard nothing but a rattling sound. The warders helped him to dress, and we left him alone with the priest, the Abbe Valladon. He then was conducted to the "Salle du Oriffe,” a dismal room with a stone floor, and, in the center, a small stool on which the culprit sits to submit to the “toilette,” which consists in cutting his hair and shirt around the shoulders, and pinioning him. When Crampon felt the cold steel of the scissors on his neck, he shuddered, and uttered a faint cry. A few minutes later the heavy doors of the prison were thrown open, and the sad procession appeared. First came Deibler, and behind him Crampon, supported by two of the executioner's assistants. Thus far he bad shown a certain amount of courage. When, however, he caught sighted the horrible machine, be seemed paralysed. Dander's men had to carry him; and when, a few seconds later, the knife dropped, I was almost certain that it had fallen on a lifeless body.