Rensselaer Republican, Volume 19, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 February 1887 — A DETECTIVE’S WORK. [ARTICLE]

A DETECTIVE’S WORK.

BY J. M. MERRILL.

As I alighted from my vehicle in front of the rather imposing dwelling of Lucas : Corning, Esq., I was met by thnt individual himself, a slender built man, with pale face, keen hhiclc eyes mid the air of one •well up in the wnys of the world. Mr. Coining grasped me by the hand and led me into the front room. “You can talk freely here, Mr. Craft. Of course, you heard of the sad affair before I sent for you.” “I barely heaid of Col. Freeland’s death when your dispatch was placed in my hand. I have had no time to investigate,” I said in hurried reply. “Of course not.” He eyed roe keenly, but I hnd been long in the business and did not flinch. I had never until this moment met Lucas Corning, and to say that I was not prepossessed in his favor would be stating only the truth. He had sent for me up and investigate the death of his partner, senior member of the tirm of Freeland & Corning. •The name of the firm was not unfamiliar, and I had once met Mr. Freeland, a man of sixty, portly and good natured, with a fund of anecdote that was quite pleasing. I have the reputation of being a detective of more than ordinary ability, and Lucas Corning had heard of me, this was his excuse for sending for me. “My partner went to the city, twenty miles below here, on business for"the firm, and it was while returning late last evening that he was murdered,” said Mr. Corning in explaining the affair to me. “In what manner was he slain?” I questioned. “He was stabbed to the heart, which leads me to believe that the assassin was not lying in wait by the roadside, but a passenger with my poor friend.” “Indeed! Yon have a theory, then, regarding the crime?” “Not being a detective I suppose I ought not to have one,” said Mr. Corning, with a slight raising of the thin mustache, “but if you will accept an opinion from me, I will tell you plainly what I think about it, and 'then you can form your own conclusion. 11 I signified my willingness to listen and • Lucas Corning went on: “I knew of but one man in Horseshoe Bend who had a motive for this murder, and that man is George Bawson, our bookkeeper, a man of violent temper, yet cunning and secretive, one who would well understand how to cover up his tracks after committing a crime. I am almost sure he is the man you need. You can get a warrant from Justice Cooper in the morning and place him in custody; that, in my opinion, would be the safest way, since Rawson may take the alarm and leave the neighborhood." “In which case my services will not be necessary in the caße,” I said with tt smile. “Of course, if you know who the assassin is, the service of a detective is wholly unnecessary.” .. “Ah, my dear sir, you do not understand me. Although lam confident that George Rawson is the guilty party, I haven’t the proof, and'l expect you to furnish that beyond peradveuture, and then we can send the fellow to prison.” “Exactly,” I returned. “Tell me what you know and then I will see what cnn be done. You said that Rawson had a motive for this crime?” “Yes, and the opportunity.” “That gives us ground on which to wwk; proceed.” —V—"George Rawson has been in our employ for a year; he came a stranger, without even a reference, nnd I should not have employed the fellow, only that he told a pitiful story, and Mr-' Freeland was prepossessed in the young man’s favor. I fear it was the old story of warming the chilled serpent in one’s bosom. “Rawson gave eminent satisfaction, how-' ever, so far as keeping his books in good ehnpe was concerned, nnd all went well until Mr. Freeland made the discovery that the bookkeeper was paying his addresses to his daughter Minnie; then my partner forbade him the house. A littffe later they quarrelled, and last week we discharged Bawson from our employ.” “Exactly.” “Instead of departing from Horseshoe Bend, however, the young fellow hung . about town aud seemed determined to make further trouble. Minnie being instructed by her fnther, gave the bookkeeper to understand that she did not wish his attentions, and then he ceased calling, but was heard to make threats, among others, that 6he, Minnie, would be sorry for her act in refusing to see him further. Early yesterday morning Mr. Freeland drove to Millville with his grays and buggy, aud with him as a pasßengei; went George Rawson. Last evening on the return Jacob Freeland was stabbed to death, and his body left in the buggy, the horses bringing their ghastly burden home about.njidnight. “Minnie has been nearly dead with grief since. It is avery sad case, and Ido hope that the assassin will meet with swift arrest and punishment.” At the lust Mr. Corning .evinced considerable emotion, and I began to regard him with more favor than at the outset. “Another thing that lends me to believe that Rawson had a hand in the crime is the fact that he appeared in Horseshoe Bend •early this morning, and has been bold enough tccall at the Freeland honse and" view the body. I regard this fact with suspicion, since, when he* left here, Ra,wson had asserted that he would never again set foot in Horseshoe Bend.” After listening to* Mr. Coming’s story I repaired to the honse of the Freelands and viewed the body of the murdered man. It was evident that George Rawson was a man of nerve and cool villainy if he was the assassin. I had met snch cases before, however, and was prepared for any phase in the nature of the human animal. The body of the dead lay ih the front room of the house, and was the object for many curiosity lovers. I pushed my way into the room and stood by the corpse. I soon ascertained that a single knifewound was on the person of the dead, and that directly through the heart. The clothing still remained as it had b#en worn by lumberman on that fatal trip. I was not long in making a most important discovery—the shirt alone had the cut of a knife through it.

f This I did not exactly understand. Had | an assaein sprung suddenly upon his viclim 1 he would doubtless have sent, his knife through vest and cont, It was late in the ; autqrnn, and the night before had been frosty one, so that it was likely Mr. Free* ! land, who had not been in the best of health for some time, would have his outside coat buttoned. From this I concluded that there had been no struggle, thnt Freeland nud been an easy, perhaps sleeping victim. I saw Minnie Freeland, who, lhongh almost crashed under the aWfnl blow, gave me a full account of what she knew of jbe affair. Mr. Rawson was with the girl when I entered. Ho seemed to be a pleasant young man, modest and quiet in denieauor; yet for all this he might be the murderer. “A man may smile, and smile, and be a villain;” this I had long ago learned in the prosecution of my calling. As I left the house I felt a hand on my shoulder. George Rawson bad followed me into the road, a look of settled anxiety on his face. “You are a detective, sir." I nodded, “I suspected it. I am glad you hnve come. Minnie is now alone in the world, nnd she is not in a state of mind calculated to look alter a case of this kind. I propose to act for her, and assure you that a large reward awaits the man who seoureß the conviction of Mr. Freeland’s assassin.” “Yes, Mr. Corning has employed me, and I expect to i rin the reward!” I regarded the young man fixedly as I uttered the remark. He started, nnd I detected an uneasy look shoot across the man’s face. "He sent for you then?” “Yes.” “Sir, has he whispered any suspicion to you?” eagerly demanded Rawson, clutching my arm, and peering into my face with a nervous twitching of the facial muscles. “I am not at liberty to state.” “No? I realize that he has whispere l a falsehood iu your ear. Beware of Lucas Corning; he is a bad man.” Then Rawson dropped his hands and rushed back to the house. “The fellow shows,guilt,” I mused, ns I regarded his retreating form, “but it is my province to make sure before I spring the trap.” After making all the investigation I deemed necessary I went to Millville, the town twenty miles distant, to which it was said that Mr. Freeland went on the morning before the crime. Here I learned that Freeland hnd transacted his business and departed from the city late in the day with his book keeper again a passenger. From Millville I followed the road on foot, and made inquiries at every house regarding the passing of Freeland. There were several dwellings and one tavern, averagipg about two miles apart, until the pine woods were reached, six miles from Horseshoe Bend in which There was no dwelling. The last house on the oak openings was a tavern kept by a man named Wisdom. He said that Freeland stopped at his house for a few minutes, and that his companion, whom he recognized as George Rawson, refused to enter. “The two seemed to be on the best of terms,” said Wisdom in answer to a question. “Did vou see Rawson again that night?” “I did not.” “Who else called?” “Mark Wilson. He came about midnight or a lititle after. He came on foot, nnd was looking for a doctor, his wife having been taken suddenly ill. He did not get the doctor till the next day, because he was gone miles away to see another patient.” “Where does this Wilson live?” “At Horseshoe Bend.” “Then he must have passed over the six mile stretch between here and the Bend about the time Mr. Freeland was on the road?” “Later, sir. I don’t think he met them. Anyhow he made no mention of it to meC’ 1 questioned Wisdom a little further and then returned to Horseshoe Bend resolved on interviewing Mark,Wilson. Afterward I was glad that I did so, since he proved a most telling cord in the combination. I was not a little chagrined to find that Georgy Rawson had been arrested during my absence. I* went at once lo Lucas Corning and demanded sternly why he had proceeded thus. “I made the arrest on my own responsibility, Mr. Craft,” returned the lumberman, with a smile that looked to me more like a grin. “I have arrived at the belief that you are not moving fast enough. I have found proof sufficient to convict George Rawson of murder, and consequently your services are no longer required.” - As he finished Lucas Corning drew a well filled wallet from his pocket with the intent of paying me some money. I felt angry, but managed to control my temper admirably. “How much am I indebted to you?” “Not a cent, sir.” I turned and left him with a feeling of intense indignation completely mastering me. I soon ascertained where Rawson liras confined, a log building near the outskirts of the town, nnd thither I repaired at once. I had not given up the trail, nor been thrown off the scent by the cool assumption of Lucas Corning, Esq. Rawson was pale but calm. “Yes, 1 ain imprisoned for the murder of my employer,” he said, “and I suppose 1 shall have lo suffer.” “George Rawson, answer me truly, are you guilty of this murder?” I looked the young man squarely in the face. “I am not guilty.” “I believe you,” I said in an earnest tone. “The end is not yet. I wish to ask a few questions, and then I will be ready to pursue investigation in another quarter. AVhat is Minnie Freeland to you?” ’ “My betrothed wife, sir.” It seemed to me that his stature increased a little as he spoke. “With or without her father's consent^" “Without.” “Ah!” “That may seem to you bad,” proceeded the young man quickly,- “but I will not tell an untruthAo save my life. Minnie had two suitors; I was the favored one in her eyes, but Mr. Freeland wished her to marry the other.” " - “W’ho was the other?” “Lncas Coming.” o “Exactly.” “Rut Minnie detested him, andlt may be that out of this trouble grew. I did quarrel with Mr. Freeland, or rather he quarreled with me, bnt, he seemed willing enough to let me ride with him to Millville and back again.” “You then did ride back With him?” “I did.” “Why was this?” , r . * ' v • “Simply because we came to an understanding. I agreed to forget all attention, or claim on Minnie for one year, at the end of which time if she was not engaged qr married to another I was to have free consent to win the girl myself. Of coarse she was lo know nothing of this. I was not fully satisfied with the plan, hut it Was_ the bestl'could do under the circumstances, and I had full faith in Minnie’s remaining true.” “Then of course you had no strong motive for taking the life of Mr. Freeland.”

“Good Heaven! Steele Croft.; don't ask or hint at such ft thing. I could not commit snch a crime under any circumstances.” j, The man’s words were earnest and effective. I believed he wus telling the truth. I then questioned him with regard to the ride to the village of Horseshotf* Bend.' ,“No, if I said I returned to the Bend with the lumberman I conveyed a meaning not intended. Just after passing Wisdom’s tavern, aud entering the woods, I lett Mr.' Freeland and went to the river to look for a job with a man 1 hnd once worked for. It was six mile< to his house from the spot where I left Freeland. I reached the home of my friend about 10 or later. No one was there. I rested for the night in an old stable, and next morning came to Horseshoe Bend to learn with horror that Mr. Freeland had been murdered.” “This is your explanaiion of how you became separated from the murdered man that night?” “It is the truth, sir.” I left the prisoner and met Lucas Corning at the door. Hiß light wagon stood near. “I am going to take Rawson to the county jail for safe keeping; you are at liberty to ride if you choose, Mr. Craft.” Bnt I did not choose. An opportunity was now afforded me that I had longed for—the absence of Lucas Corning from Horseshoe Bend would give me Opportunity to visit bis home. A strong nnd nwful suspicion held sway in my heart which I was determined to banish or confirm at the earliest possible moment. “You are excused from further work on •this case, Steele Craft,” 6aid Corning, a little severely. “Certainly, but J may have other business here.” was my retort. He eyed mo an instant with a look that was piercing and suspicious, but in my placid countenance he saw nothing to hang upon. , I walked'away, nnd soon after had the satisfaction of seeing Mr. Corning drive from the Bend in the direction of Millville. All this occurred nearly a week after the murder, nnd three days after the funeral. I repaired quickly to the dwelling of Lucas Corning. An old maid sister presided, and as she was ill with a severe headache I applied to the housekeeper for permission to search the house. At first she demurred, but after a little consented, when I told her that I was an officer of the law and was only here in the discharge of duty. In two hours I made a thorough search. I was amply rewarded for the time spent, and when I left the house I repaired with a feeling of elation to the humble cabin of Mark Wilson. “Come,” I said, and Wilson followed me aside. Our plans were well arranged when in the edge of evening, Lucas Coming returned to Horseshoe Bend. That evening, after supper at Wilson's dwelling, I met Corning in his own parlor. He was certainly under the influence of liquor and very garrulous. I was not in the least put out at this. When wine is in wit is out, and 1 felt that ffiy plan would work to easier perfection with the man in such a condition. “The young dog’ll be inside State’s prison inside of two weeks,” said Corning, rubbing his thin hands rapidly together. “I fancy lam quite a detective, old boy. I flatter myself that I got the start of you—” “NO doubt, but it is barely possibla that you have made a mistake,,Mr. Corning,” I said, drily. “A mistake? Oh, no, that can’t be. In what way, old boy, in what way?” “Will you permit me to tell a little story, Lucas Coming?” “Certainly, certainly, sir.” I went (o the table on which burned the big parlor lamp, and turned the blaze down so as to cast the room in shadow, and then I began: '"i“Just a week ago to-night, while a

genial old man was riding through the woods sonth of this village, he was stopped by a friend, who entered the vehicle and rode in his company. Before gaining the bend the friend plied the old man with rare old wine; that wine was drugged, nnd the elder gentleman soon lay back on his seat in a profound slumber. “There was a devil in the heart of the sleeping man’s companion; he had planned to rid himself of one—his partner—whom he was owing a large sum Of money, and whose daughter he hoped to gain for a wife. That hope was put to flight by the fact that the girl was engaged to another. Realizing that he could not win the girl with her lover in the way, this villain concocted a plan to murder his partner, fix the crime on the girl’s lover, and thus save his money and put himself on the high way to gaining his rich partner’s girl for a wife. “His plans worked well. He drove tfie team to the back door at the hour of midnight, or nearly that; lifted his drugged partner and bore him to the floor of the cellar where, baring his bosom, he drove a knife to his heart, and suffered the old man to bleed in the sand at the bottom of the cellar. Then the murderer carried his victim back, replaced him in the buggy, and turned the team loose upon the street, where, at a later hour, the dead was discovered. From his partner the assassin had learned that George Rawson had been with him up to the time of his entering the woods, and it was this fact that led you, Lucas Corning, to complete your plap of murder that night!” ' I paused. I could hear the hoarse breathing of the man before me. He clutched the table for support and finally blurted out: “It’s a lie! I did not kill Jacob Freeland.” “Y.ou did.~Here is the bottle that contained the drug, some of which still remains, and the bloody sand at the bottom of the cellar tells the rest; moreover you were seen to commit the deed.!” “I seen to do if?” Lucas Corning gasped the words, and then I stamped my feet and cried in a stern voice: “Behold the witness!” The door had noiselessly opened nnd a man with white hair, glowing eyes, and face pallid as the sheeted dead confronted tho trembling lumberman in the dim light. On the instant I turned the light on to a full glow, revealing a sight calculated to shock the strongest nerves. * Confronting the lumberman stood one who so much resembled the murdered man as to deceive the sharpest eye. He stood with clothing drawn open, revealing the bare skin over the heart where appeared a bleeding, ghastly wound. Not a word did the apparition say; it was not necessary. “Great Heaven! Jacob, why have yon come back to haunt me? God have mercy! I killed you, and now— —” He did not finish the sentence but reeled and fell heavily to the floor in a fit. “Enough,” 1 cried; “the assassin is revealed. Yon have played your part well, Wilson; I piyself would have sworn you were the dead man had I not known to the contrary. . * * * * * * * * When the miserable Corning came to himself once more he realized that he was doomed. My ruse had worked to perfection and wrung confession from his lips. I cannot call it all a ruse, however, since Wilson being up late on the night of the murder on account of his sick wife, had seen Carning [Corning] disappear in the cellar with

his partner in his anus. This fact verifies my suspicions. 1 searched the house to find in the cellar the drugged wine carefully hidden away, and a spot in the sand where blood had been spilled—the redt of the facts I manufactured. but the truth, ns ,J|he guilty wretch afterward confessed, almost perfectly. NVjlson’s part in the denonoment was taken at his own suggestion and worked perfectly. Lucas Coming died in jail of norvous iirostration bofored he was sentenced; as or George Rawson und Minnie they were afterward happily married.