Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 157, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 July 1913 — The Cases of Alice Clement [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Cases of Alice Clement

True Stories of the World’s Greatest Woman Sleuth as Told by Herself to Courtney Riley Cooper

The Invisible Clue

(Copyright. by W. O. Chapman.)

▲lice Clement was bound for Europe, mission unknown except to herself and the watchers of criminals who Wear the police stars of the city of Chicago. And, judging from the queer little smile which Miss Clement gave me as we walked down Fifth avenue, after our meeting, it seemed that the mission was to remain a secret “It seems,” I said, “that the occasion of your coming to New York ought to be enough to cause you to tell a little of it anyway." She directed one of those flashing, good humored looks at me. “Can you remember a time when I ever told anything of a case before I finished it?” she queried. I was forced to admit that she was right. Miss Clement continued: “Besides,” with a smile, “New York Isn’t so new to me. 1 made an arrest here once.” It was then that a crossing jam took our attention from things criminal, and it was not until an hour later, when seated in the moonlight on the top deck of a Coney Island boat, that the conversation drifted back. I had •aid something about the detective stories of fiction and the wonderful doctors who always are finding criminals through their scientific investigations. “And yet,” said J Miss Clement, “there’s many a story of fiction that has its counterpart in real life. For Instance, that New York arrest I spoke of was an example of what can . be done by science. The up-to-date police departments are not so blind to new discoveries as you might think.” As the story started, I could not help admiring the picture before me, the white clad figure with its hat shielding the face from the pearl-like flood of the moon, they flash of eyes now and then as the head turned, the clasped hands —and on beyond the rolling sea, gleaming and swirling in the night light. In the distance the shore slid past in black, ever changing shadows. It was a cool night, and the usual crowd of the boat was absent Here and there about the deck, however, sat youpg men and young women conversing in low tones, or sitting ,si'ent and looking out to the thin line of the horizon. Far ahead, a lighthouse flashed its warning. The steam of the ship’s exhaust mixed incongruously with the music of the boat orchestra. I* leaned nearer that I might hear better.

“I can’t say that I ever was really assigned to a case where murders or something of the kind have been concerned,” Miss Clement had begun, “but it always seems I am just happening along by accident. This New York case (I call it that because the case was finished here) was one of those affairs, though not a murder. “I was walking down State street, Chicago, one morning when a crowd around a store caused me to stop. The shattered glass and general wreckage within told of some kind of accident I elbowed my way to the door, and there met one of the men from the central office.

" 'What’s' happened?’ I inquired. ‘“Safe blowing,’ was the answer. ‘And it was a real one. The yeggman who did this job must have thought he was a Mount Vesuvius. He not only tore the store to pieces, but he tried to do the same thing to himself.* He pointed to a few spots of blood on the wall, evidently where the safeblower had been knocked by the explosion and cut his head. 'But just the same,’ the detective contlmysd, ‘that didn’t keep him from cleaning the safe of about |IO,OOO in money and paper and getting away. And that’s what gets me. I can’t for the life of me see how he managed to escape.* "A cursory glance on the outside, however, showed that the matter of escape had been fairly easy. An alley was at the side of the building, and frbm there, by dark routes through an excavation and an unfinished building, It was easy to reach Wabash avenue and the railroad yards beyond. I have never made It much of a point to spend! much* time figuring but by what method a man has escaped. It doesn’t do much toward finding him. I went back into the store. " ‘What do you think of it?* I asked the central office man.

"‘lt isn’t what you’d call the beat chance In the world,’ was his answer. There’s not a thing to bang a clue on. The only chance we have is to get track of some of that negotiable paper and trace him that —huh!’ "He had been digging around in the rubbish near the safe, and pulled forth a bundle of papers. That clue was gone. *The robber had taken only the money. I looked around the room. “ ‘At least,’ I said, ‘we can find out whether he is a negro or a white man. Lend me your knife.* T stepped to the wainscoting and chipped off a bit of blood-stained wood. Then I started for a microscopist. "That night a chance was tn my grasp and I was on a Kansas City Flyer, bound for Fort Leavenworth, Kan. And the next afternoon —’’ "Why Leavenworth F’ I asked. “Had you found out his name?" Miss Clement’s smile flashed in ths ■sooullght...

“Not a trace of it,” was the answer. "I was depending on a new friend, Plasmodium Falciparum, to give me that” “Who?” “You never met” was the laughing reply. “But as I said, the next afternoon found me in Fort Leavenworth, addressing a man in the blue of the United States army. “ ‘Yours is the only regiment in from the Philippines since when?’ I asked. “ Tn a year,’ was the answer. " ‘Any deserters?’ “ ‘One.’ “‘May I see the pictures and any letters tha’t have been intercepted?’

“Of course,” explained Miss Clement, “my credentials had been shown. The object of my visit was, of course, as yet a secret, with the exception of the fact that I was looking for a criminal. The letters were shown me. I hurried away, and by the next day I was in Oklahoma City. A sample case of books was under my i arm. I found the house I desired, and knocked at the door. “Ts Miss Sexton in?’ I Inquired of the girl at the door. “T am Miss Sexton,* came the answer. ” Tour name was given me as being interested in books,’ I said as I edged past her and into the hall. I did not stop talking then, but manufactured the name of a publisher, a scheme of selling and everything else connected with book agency. My aim was to get the girl in a room and alone. I succeeded in my purpose. Then I locked the door and whirled.

“'I want that night letter!’ I demanded. "The girl blanched. " 'Night letter?’ she stammered. "'From Tom Barton,* I snapped back. I had played a ‘hunch’ and I saw that I had hit the mark. The woman half rose. “ 'I don’t know whom you are talking about,* she answered. "’You don’t?’ I questioned, back. 'You know very well who I am talking about!* I answered. 'You know that he has deserted the/ United States army, that he now is a fugitive from justice, and that he has wired you to join him. Don’t scream or try to get out of this room,’ I warned her. “ T have a revolver, and I will shoot. Until I see otherwise,-you are under arrest.’ I showed my badge. ‘Now give me that night letter!’ "The girl, she was hardly more than that, reeled half way across the parlor and was leaning against the piano for support. Her face was ghastly. Her hands were clasped until the blood distended the wrist veins like blue cords. Her breath came in gasps. “'Deserted?* she asked vaguely, ‘deserted? He told me he was on furlough of a month. We were going to get married, and he got the furlough for our trip.’

“ 'lt.wlll be a much longer furlough than that,’ I answered icily. ‘You are a good girl, Miss Sexton. I can see that. My coming here will enable you to escape a great -deal. Ido not desire to cause you any more notoriety than is necessary. But I must insist on your remaining under guard a few days at a hotel. No one will know the difference —providing you give me that night letter. Otherwise, it will be plain jail—and the papers.* “A long wait and then the girl, half staggering, came toward me a x few steps and extended a yellow envelope. I placed it in my pocketbook and wordlessly we left the house. In all my life I never had seen a girl so absolutely crushed. There were no tears. Her grief and surprise were too deep for that. Only the bloodless face, the trembling, blue lips, the eyes Which looked almost unseelngly at the world, told of the girl’s suffering. On the way to the hotel, where a detective awaited me, 1 learned her story—not much of one, that of a stenographer, lonely and young, who had met a man In uniform and been fascinated. It wasn’t much to hear, but the sincerity of it all, the deadened way in which it was told, cut into my heart. ‘“And you knew nothing of him?’ I asked.

" ‘I was lonely,* was her invariable, dull answer; ‘he told me lots of things. I believed them.* e "An hour later I telegram, a day message instead of the night letter I had determined upon believing it to be. I read: ‘“Meet me Newark, N. J., June 10. Will bo married then. Keep thing secret until afterward. Will toll reason when I see you. Tom.* ** There came a pause in the narrative. Miss Clement spent a moment in watching the lovelorn actions of a shop girl and a floorwalker near the railing of the boat. She smiled in amused appreciation at The effort of handholding and then turned her eyes to watch the blinking of the lighthouse. The story began again. "I went to a telegraph station. My wires were not to Tom, however, but to the office in Chicago. And when, a few days later, I stepped from the train at Newark, I saw near the baggage room the familiar faces of two central office men. I looked in

vain for my deserter. He was not in right. I walked into the station and began to pace the room. Discouragement had flashed upon me. I had taken every precaution, yet there had been chances for failure. I had trusteed the girl in her story that she was the only one who knew that Tom had left the fort, in fact, that she was the only girl in the dty who knew him at all. And in my haste, I had accepted that story without further investigation. I saw now the mistake that was possible. Had this girl played to disarm me by her expression of deep sorrow? Had there been someone else who had warned him? Had

“A sudden fear entered my heart There was only one chance to find out and that was to learn the possibility of a telegram having been delivered to him at the station. I hurried to the bulletin' board to see. If possible, if the name of 'Tom—l knew the last name would be changed—had been put there that day. I crossed the room and then stopped with a shock. Before me stood out the chalk-marked words:

“ ‘Agnes Sexton.’ , T rushed to the telegraph desk and called for the message. Then with trembling hands I tore open the envelope. “ ‘Have porter show you way to Gramercy Park, New York,’ the message ran. ‘Will be waiting for you there at northwest corner at midnight Can’t tell reason. Get directions explicitly.* “It was signed ‘Tom’ as the other message had been. I reached for a pencil, scribbled my orders on the piece of paper, then dropped it at the feet of one of the central office men as I hurried past Then I started for New York. 1 / “The great mournful chimes of the two-story clock in the Metropolitan tower were clanging twelve as I turned from Broadway, down Twentieth street and Into Gramercy Square. The streets were deserted, except for a figure huddled against the iron grating of the eighty-year-old park. The song of time, played In its weird, longsounding tones, rang out over the sleepy old park with its doleful message of

Days and years Come and go, Passing on, Passing on. "From tenemdnt-lined Third avenue and its opening canyons of slum streets came the drowsy murmur of late night An L train clattered along, its wheels singing and beating. I looked far down the street under the street light and perceived the waiting figures of my detectives. It lessened the bumping of my heart to know they were ready. I approached the figure by the grating. “‘ls this Gramercy Park?’ I asked, and with a quick glance saw that, according to orders, my men were beginning to move forward. The man had started forward a bit at the right of me, then had returned to his position by the fence. I could not see his sac Important-thing. Work was still before me. I repeated my question.

" ‘ls this Gramercy Park?’ “‘Yes,’ came the curt answer at last. “‘How do the numbers run?’ “ ‘Around the block.’ The man kept his face turned from me. I laughed rather queerly at his answer. ‘“I don’t quite understand,* I said. ‘l’m a stranger here in New York. I don’t know anything about the city. Couldn’t you tell me which way the numbers run here? Do they run from east to west or from north to south?’ “It was then that the man turned from the fence and with an angry swing of his arm, made a circle of the park. “ ‘They run that way!’ he answered testily. He looked at me. I saw his face. I raised an arm. There was a rush, a short struggle as the cursing, biting, kicking man sought to evade the handcuffs and then Tom Barton was started to the station. “But Tom Barton was a different type of person from his fiancee. He disregarded every question. He refused, even under threats, to answer anything that was asked of him. "At last, however, he looked up and with a sneer admitted what we had been questioning him to obtain—the fact that he was a deserter from the United States army. Then the real work began.

“ Where did you get that bruise on your head?* one of the detectives askuh “ Where do you suppose?* came the Insolent query in response. *1 got it working, of course.’ " ‘Where?’ “‘None of your business!' ‘“Don’t answer me that way!’ The detective leaned forward. “ ‘l’ll answer you any way I pleaffe;* came the sneering response. ‘Why can’t you let a fellow be? You’ve got your fifty dollars reward for getting next to a slipaway, now let me alone. I want to go to sleep.* " ‘We want you for something more than deserting.* I said. We want you for cracking a safe in Chicago, and whether you confess it or not, we’ve got the goods on you.*

“The prisoner sneered again. "‘All right,’ he eaid. ‘Prove It I ain’t been near Chicago.* "I smiled happily. " ’Haven’t you?’ I asked. *Very well, we’ll show that you have. O'Leary, scratch his wrist there and take a sample of his blood.* "The man looked up. ‘“What are you going to do with thatF he asked. “‘Prove our case against yon,* was my answer, and he stared at me. “ ‘What have you got up your sleeve?* bo questioned queerly. "None of youa business. Hold out your wrist Captain, will you send •

man to the Bertlllon room for a glass microscope slide? I want to put a drop of this man’s blood on it.* “Barton seemed to squirm in his chair. My mysterious actions were affecting him queerly. For a moment he remained silent, watching the operation of placing a small drop of blood on the microscope slide. He seemed worried. He knew we had some sort of information regarding which he knew, nothing. He began to ask questions. His caution seemed to leave him. One little admission came unguarded from his lips. Anqther was added to it. We began to twist his account of his actions. And in an hour he had confessed everything and was willing to go back to Chicago without requisition papers.” “ Miss Clement turned and looked ahead to where a yellowish glare diffused the sky.

"We’re getting near Coney, aren’t we?” she asked. ) “Yes,” I answered, “but that doesn’t interest me at all right now. What I want to know is how on earth you found out; that the robber of the safe was a deserter from the army.” Miss Clement smiled. “I told you of Plasmodium Falciparum, didn’t I?” “Yes, but what in the name of Sam Hill is—weH, whatever you said.” Again a laugh. ‘TU have to explain it, I guess,” the pretty little detective said. “When that spot of blood found in the store was placed under a microscope it showed plasmodium falciparum, or, in other words, the indications of a tropical malarial fever, common to the Philippines. Then, it was a two to one bet that the person was a soldier who recently "had returned to the country. I looked Up the matter and found that the last regiment to come from the Philippines was stationed at Fort Leavenworth. I figured he would be a deserter, In need of money. After I read the letters that had been intercepted, I was more of this opinion than ever, for I saw he had been intending to get married. You see, his plan was to desert, get a bunch of money, then leave the country. But it didn’t work out”

The lights of Coney flared brighter than ever. Miss Clement turned to again watch the tender-hearted shop girl and the .lovelorn floorwalker. "Silly things, aren’t they?*’ she asked.

"THEY RUN THAT WAY,” HE ANSWERED, TESTILY.