Kitabı oku: «True Detective Stories from the Archives of the Pinkertons», sayfa 3
It was about a fortnight after this that the two men met again, Proctor having secured all the facts about the monthly transfer of money from New York to Susquehanna. These he confided to Donahue, who seemed greatly pleased at the report. He showed Proctor the greatest attention, spending money freely. Then he pressed Proctor with further questions, asking how the money was wrapped up, what kind of pouch it was carried in, and so on. Finally he came out bluntly with the opinion that Proctor was a fool to waste his time working in a dirty shop when he might be living in luxury. Then, seeing that the foreman took no great umbrage at this suggestion, he asked him if he could get an impression of the safe-key, and also one of the key to the door of the ticket-office. After some show of reluctance, Proctor finally consented to try.
Returning to Susquehanna, Proctor took advantage of his friendship with employees about the ticket-office to get possession of the keys long enough to take the desired impressions, and these he mailed to Donahue, in whose service he was now fully enlisted. Donahue wrote back, expressing satisfaction, and saying that he and another man, named Collins, had paid a secret visit to Susquehanna, and had found everything as Proctor had represented. A little later Proctor went to Canada again, and was introduced to Collins. At this meeting it was arranged that Donahue should procure a canvas bag like the one used by the express company, and that a dummy money package should be placed inside, so that a substitution might be effected on the arrival of the next shipment. Proctor was to take no active part in the robbery, but was instructed to return home and continue at his work, showing no concern, whatever happened.
"If there's an earthquake at Susquehanna when pay-day comes around, you don't know anything about it, do you understand?" Such was the final order given to Proctor, and he obeyed it implicitly.
A month passed, and, hearing nothing, Proctor went to Canada again, and had another talk with his two confederates. They told him that they had gone to Susquehanna prepared to do the "job," but had learned, accidentally, that the money that month had been sent in gold, which would have been too heavy for them to carry away, and they had therefore decided to wait until a month later.
This was in May, and the following month the robbery occurred. Two weeks later Proctor went to Canada, and received eleven thousand dollars as his share of the plunder. Donahue and Collins explained to him that he did not receive more because they had been obliged to give a fourth share to another man who had worked with them. They cautioned him not to spend a dollar of the stolen money for months to come, as the detectives would be always on the lookout for suspicious circumstances. They also advised him to continue at his work, under no circumstances giving up his position within a year.
Proctor had strictly followed these suggestions, living and working as he had done before the robbery, and not spending any part of his portion. Having changed the money into large bills and sealed it up in a fruit-jar, so that the moisture could not injure it, he buried the jar head downward in his garden. There it remained untouched for months. But when the severe weather of the following winter set in, he dug up the jar, and taking the money to Buffalo, deposited it in three banks, in the name of his wife and his three children, with himself in each instance as trustee.
Although his trade became very irksome to him now that he had a small fortune in his possession, he prudently stuck to it until June, 1884. Then, a year having elapsed since the robbery, he decided that it would be safe for him to launch out into a pleasanter life. He accordingly went to Buffalo, where he entered into oil speculations with a friend who claimed to have "inside information" from the Standard Oil Company. Although fortunate at the start, the failure of Grant & Ward brought them heavy losses, and soon their profits and their original capital were swept away. Proctor assured Mr. Pinkerton that, at the time of their talk, he was ruined, and that he had intended, during this very visit to Susquehanna which ended in his arrest, making application for his old position as foreman of the boiler-shops.
Having heard Proctor's confession, Mr. Pinkerton took counsel with the officers of the express company. They, believing that Proctor had been only a tool in the hands of two smart professional criminals, agreed with the detective that the ends of justice demanded rather the apprehension of his confederates than his punishment alone. Proctor professed great penitence for his wrong-doing, and declared himself willing to do whatever was in his power to make amends.
The first step necessary to the capture of Donahue and Collins was to get them both into the United States at some point where they could be arrested at the same time. Donahue was still in Canada, where he could not be taken. Mr. Pinkerton arranged with Proctor to write to Donahue that he had discovered another safe which offered a tempting opportunity, hoping in this way to induce him to cross the line into the United States. To give color to the story it was necessary to accord Proctor apparent freedom of movement; but he pledged himself not to leave Susquehanna without Mr. Pinkerton's permission, and to keep the detective informed by letter and telegraph of all developments. At the same time detectives were sent to Canada to keep watch over Donahue.
Collins, in the meantime, had been located in Albany, but no attempt was made to arrest him until Donahue could be brought over the line. Should he cross without notifying Proctor, the men "shadowing" him were to cause his arrest. It was arranged with Proctor that, in case his letter failed of its purpose, he should go to Canada himself, persuade Donahue to send for Collins, and then induce the two to come back with him, when they would be arrested the moment they crossed the line.
On the 29th of November Robert Pinkerton received word by telegraph that Proctor had left Susquehanna suddenly in the night, telling the agent of the express company that he would return the next day. This looked very much as if Proctor had played him false, since it had been expressly stipulated that he should not go away without Mr. Pinkerton's permission. Days went by, and Proctor did not return. Then word came from one of the Pinkerton men at Fort Erie that Proctor had arrived at Donahue's hotel and had been joined there by Collins. This was a serious setback for the detectives. Not only were the three robbers safe from arrest where they were, but being fully aware of the danger threatening them, and being men of shrewdness, it was fair to presume that they would now move with great caution.
It soon became evident that Donahue and Collins were thoroughly alarmed by the news Proctor had brought them; for they at once took energetic steps to mislead any one who might be watching them. Having retired as usual one night, they arose later, and drove in a wagon to a station on the Grand Trunk Railroad, where they boarded a freight train for Toronto. After a brief stay in that city they went on to Montreal, where they tried hard to lose themselves, but were unsuccessful, and returned to Fort Erie.
Meanwhile Mr. Pinkerton discovered that the story told him by Proctor was entirely untrue. So far from having been an honest man before the robbery, it came to light that he was already at that time a hardened criminal, having committed burglaries both in the United States and Canada, and having been sentenced, under another name, to a term in the Massachusetts State prison. While in prison he had contrived to make keys that would unlock his own cell and those of three other prisoners, and the four had thus made their escape. One of them was the notorious Charles Bullard, who was at that time serving a term of twenty years for the robbery of the Boylston Bank of Boston. Proctor had also offered the privilege of escape to Scott and Dunlap, the Northampton Bank robbers, who were confined in the same prison, but they had distrusted his plan, and refused to avail themselves of it.
It was now necessary for the detectives to devise a new plan. Robert Pinkerton knew that some three years earlier Donahue had been concerned in the robbery of a bank at Winnipeg, and also in the robbery of a hardware store at Quebec. His brother, William Pinkerton, he also knew, had a personal acquaintance with Donahue, from having arrested him a number of years before. He therefore sent for William Pinkerton to come to New York from Chicago, and on his arrival proposed to him that he go to Fort Erie, get an interview with Donahue, and tell him of Proctor's treachery in betraying Collins and himself; impress upon him that Proctor was a dangerous man to have dealings with; and try to induce him to lend his aid in delivering Proctor and Collins over the line, just as Robert Pinkerton had sought to have Proctor do in the case of Donahue and Collins. Donahue was known as a "stanch" man, – that is, one who is true to his friends, – and it was thought probable that he would refuse to take part in any such scheme. But in that event William Pinkerton was to threaten him with arrest for the old robberies at Winnipeg and Quebec.
This plan was carried out by William Pinkerton with greater success than had been expected. At first Donahue stoutly refused to betray a comrade, but the danger threatening himself was made to appear so great that finally, seeing no other way out of his difficulties, he consented to do what was asked of him in regard to Proctor. Against Collins, however, he declined to give any aid. By working on Proctor's natural fear of arrest, he easily persuaded him that the immediate departure of all three of them – himself, Proctor, and Collins – for Europe was advisable. It was arranged that they should not sail from Quebec or Halifax, since the steamers from those points were likely to be watched by detectives, but that they should leave Fort Erie stealthily by night, make their way separately to Montreal, and meet there.
This plan was carried out, and within a few days the three were in Montreal, all apparently of one mind in their desire to escape the country, though in reality Proctor was the only one of the three who thought himself in danger. Donahue had taken Collins into his confidence, and Collins was quite of Donahue's opinion that they were doing the proper thing in saving themselves by surrendering a man who had shown himself willing to betray them.
It had been agreed between William Pinkerton and Donahue that at Montreal tickets should be purchased to Europe by way of Portland, Maine, and that the party should leave Montreal at a certain time by the Grand Trunk road. The line of this road runs for a number of miles through northern Vermont, and it was customary for the train the men were to take to wait over for an hour at Island Pond, a little place just across the Canadian line. Here, as it was arranged, Robert Pinkerton was to be waiting, ready to take Proctor into custody, and also (though in this part of the arrangement Donahue, of course, was not consulted) Donahue and Collins, should they be so imprudent as to stay on the train until it crossed the line. To the forwarding of this latter end, indeed, a special stratagem was resorted to. Conceiving that Donahue and Collins, in order the more completely to allay Proctor's suspicion, might remain with him until the last station was reached on the Canadian side, the detectives arranged that on this particular night the train should not stop at that station, but push on at full speed to the American side.
On a certain Tuesday night, Donahue, Collins, and Proctor took the 10:15 p. m. train at Montreal for Portland. No sooner had they left the station than a Pinkerton representative, who had "shadowed" them aboard, telegraphed the fact to Robert Pinkerton at Island Pond. Proctor went early to his berth in the sleeper. In another berth, not far distant, never closing his eyes through the night, but lying there fully dressed, with weapons ready, was a Pinkerton detective, whose instructions were to accompany the three robbers as long as they were together, and to stay with Proctor to the last.
It was five o'clock in the morning when the train drew up at Island Pond. On the platform stood Robert Pinkerton, carrying a requisition from the governor of Pennsylvania on the governor of Vermont for the arrest of Donahue, Collins, and Proctor, charged with robbing the United States Express Company of forty thousand dollars, at Susquehanna, Pennsylvania. The first man to leave the train was the "shadow," who informed his chief that Proctor was sound asleep in berth No. 12. Donahue and Collins, he said, had left the train long before it reached the last station on the Canadian side, so that the plan for their capture had fallen through. Mr. Pinkerton went aboard the sleeper at once, and going to berth No. 12, pushed aside the curtains. He could not see distinctly for the darkness, but borrowing a lantern from one of the trainmen, let the light fall on the face of the person within, and saw it was Proctor, slumbering in complete unconsciousness that his hour of reckoning had come. A gentle push in the ribs awakened him with a start. Recognizing Mr. Pinkerton, he said with admirable coolness:
"You have spoiled the whole business. If you had not come in here to arrest me, I would have had those men across the line next week."
When he said this, Proctor supposed that Donahue and Collins were asleep in an adjoining berth; but, even to save himself, he never thought of betraying them, which goes to show that he was a "stancher" man than Donahue and Collins had been led to believe. For some time he endeavored to maintain his old character with Mr. Pinkerton; but on the way to Susquehanna, realizing the hopelessness of his case, he acknowledged the deception he had practised, and his full responsibility with the others in the Susquehanna robbery. He also admitted his previous criminal record.
At Susquehanna, Proctor was placed in jail to await trial, and there Mr. Pinkerton visited him some time later. Something in the prisoner's manner convinced the detective that all was not as it should be, and he urged the sheriff to put Proctor in another cell and search his clothes and his cell thoroughly. This was done, and there were found a number of keys that fitted the locks of various doors in the jail, and also a large key fitting the gate from the jail-yard into the street. Proctor's rare mechanical skill had enabled him to make these keys in his cell, from impressions furnished him by a woman who had been allowed to visit him. Being a good talker, Proctor had won this woman's sympathy, and had also made a strong appeal to her self-interest by promising, on his escape, to share with her a large sum of money he had buried.
At his trial Proctor pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to twelve years' imprisonment in the penitentiary at Cherry Hill, Pennsylvania. Here, again, he was caught in the act of making keys to aid him to escape. He laid various other plans for regaining his liberty, indeed, but all were frustrated. His imprisonment worked no reform in him. After he had served out his sentence, some burglaries committed in Maine brought him again under arrest, and, having been identified as a convict from the Massachusetts State prison, he was taken back to that institution, to serve out his unexpired sentence.
The United States Express Company had not relaxed its efforts against his associates after Proctor's capture. Donahue and Collins returned to Montreal, well satisfied with the work they had done, and thinking themselves safe from pursuit. But President Platt instructed Robert Pinkerton to take every measure possible against them, and it was decided that as Donahue could not be reached and punished for the robbery at Susquehanna, he should be made to suffer for the early robbery at Quebec already referred to. Donahue's complicity in this robbery was proved by the discovery of a part of the stolen goods in his hotel at Fort Erie. Through the efforts of the express company and the Pinkertons he was now arrested, and on trial was convicted and sentenced to five years' imprisonment in the Kingston penitentiary. After his conviction Donahue told the detectives that he was a fool to have had anything to do with such a dangerous project as an express robbery, but that the opportunity at Susquehanna was so tempting that he could not resist it. After his arrest the express company attached all of his property, and, although they did not succeed in getting a judgment against him, they fought him in the courts until his wife, acting for him, was obliged to mortgage all their possessions up to the last dollar, so that they never derived any substantial benefit from the stolen money.
As for Collins, he remained a fugitive from justice for some time after the conviction of Proctor and Donahue. Several years later, however, seeing himself constantly threatened by the express company and the detectives, he decided to placate his enemies by stepping out from the ranks of the law-breakers and trying to lead an honest life. And he has succeeded, as the Pinkertons have reason to know; and his case goes to prove what is borne out by wide experience, that even the most desperate criminals are sometimes capable of genuine reform.
The Pollock Diamond Robbery
There were thirteen men in the smoker of a train on the Sioux City and Pacific Railroad when it drew out of Omaha at six o'clock on Friday evening, November 4, 1892, and started on its eastward run. Among these thirteen, sitting about half-way down the aisle, enjoying a good cigar, was Mr. W. G. Pollock of New York, a traveling salesman for W. L. Pollock & Co., of the same city, dealers in diamonds. In the inside pocket of his vest he carried fifteen thousand dollars' worth of uncut diamonds, while a leather satchel on the seat beside him contained a quantity of valuable stones in settings.
On the front seat of the car, just behind the stove, sat a stolid-looking young man, who would have passed for a farmer's lad. He seemed scarcely over twenty, having neither beard nor mustache, and a stranger would have put him down as a rather stupid, inoffensive fellow. Compared with Mr. Pollock, he was slighter in build, although an inch or so taller. As he sat there staring at the stove, the passenger in the seat behind him, J. H. Shaw, an Omaha well-digger, a bluff, hearty man of social instincts, tried to draw him into conversation; but the young fellow only shook his head sulkily, and the well-digger relapsed into silence. Presently, as the train was approaching California Junction, the young man on the front seat rose and started down the aisle. Curiously enough, he now wore a full beard of black hair five or six inches long. No one paid any attention to him until he stopped at Mr. Pollock's seat, drew a revolver, and said loud enough for every one in the car to hear him:
"Give me them diamonds."
Then, without waiting for a reply, he shifted the revolver to his left hand, drew a slung-shot from his coat-pocket, and struck Mr. Pollock over the head such a heavy blow that the bag of the slung-shot burst, and the shot itself fell to the floor. Then he said again: "Give me them diamonds."
Realizing that the situation was desperate, Mr. Pollock took out his pocket-book and handed it to his assailant, saying: "I have only a hundred dollars; here it is."
Pushing back the pocket-book as if unworthy of his attention, the man coolly aimed his revolver at Mr. Pollock's right shoulder and fired. Then he aimed at the left shoulder and fired. Both bullets hit, and were followed by two more, which went whizzing by the diamond-merchant's head on either side, missing him, perhaps by accident, but probably by design, as the men were not three feet apart.
By this the other people in the car had disappeared under the seats like rats into their holes. To all intents and purposes Mr. Pollock was alone with his assailant. The latter evidently knew where the diamonds were secreted, for, ripping open his victim's vest, he drew out the leather wallet in which they were inclosed, and stuffed it into his pocket. Wounded though he was, Mr. Pollock now grappled with the thief, who, using the butt of his revolver as a cudgel, brought down fearful blows on Pollock's head. The latter, however, getting into the aisle, fought the robber up and down the car; but a crushing blow at last laid him senseless on the floor.
With perfect self-possession and without hurry the thief walked back down the aisle to Mr. Pollock's seat, and took one of the two leather bags lying there, by mistake choosing, though, the one that did not contain the mounted diamonds. Then he went to the end of the car, pulled the bell-rope, and, as the train began to slacken its speed in response to this signal, jumped off the steps, rolled down a bank fifteen feet high, and disappeared.
Sharing, apparently, in the general consternation and terror inspired by the young fellow, the conductor, instead of holding the train to pursue the thief, signaled the engineer to go ahead, and no effort was made for a capture until the train reached California Junction, several miles farther on. Meanwhile the panic-stricken passengers recovered, at their leisure, their composure and their seats. Had but one of his fellow-travelers gone to the assistance of Mr. Pollock, the robber might easily have been overpowered. As it was, he all but murdered his man, plundered him of his diamonds, and escaped without the slightest interference. When his pistol was picked up, near the spot where he left the train, it was found that in the struggle the cylinder had caught, so that it would have been impossible to discharge the two chambers remaining loaded. Thus eleven able-bodied men were held in a state of abject terror by one slender lad, who at the last was practically unarmed.
At California Junction the wounded diamond-merchant was carried from the train, and that same night taken back to Omaha. Mr. Pollock, being a member of the Jewelers' Protective Union, a rich and powerful organization, established some years ago for the protection of jewelry salesmen against thieves, was entitled to its aid.
When the detectives reached the scene of the robbery, the robber had vanished as completely as if he had been whisked off to another planet. To be sure, farmers in the neighborhood brought rumors of the stealing of horses, of a strange man sleeping in the woods, and of a desperate-looking character seen limping along the road. But all this came to nothing, except to establish, what seemed probable, that the diamond-thief had fled back to Omaha. A patient and exhaustive search in Omaha resulted in nothing. The man was gone, and the diamonds were gone; that was all anybody knew.
What made the case more difficult was the uncertainty as to the robber's personal appearance; for some of the passengers testified to one thing, and some to another. The black beard was a cause of confusion; only one witness besides Mr. Pollock remembered that the man wore such a beard. Mr. Pollock, however, was positive as to this particular, and it seemed as if he ought to know. It was also impossible to decide, from conflicting statements, whether the robber had a mustache or not, and whether it was dark or light in color. The fact is, the passengers had been so thoroughly frightened at the time of the assault that the credibility of their testimony was much to be questioned.
Mr. Pollock reported that for several weeks previous to the robbery he had suspected that he was being followed. He also reported that on the day of the robbery he had been in the shop of the largest pawnbroker in Omaha, and that while he was there two noted Western gamblers had entered the shop and been presented to him as possible customers. He had made a trade of some diamonds with one of the men, and, in the course of the negotiations, had shown his entire stock. While the trade was in progress a negro on the premises had noticed, lounging about the front of the shop, a man in a slouch-hat who suggested the robber. From these circumstances it was decided that the robbery might be the work of an organized gang, who had been waiting their opportunity for many days, and had selected one of their number to do the actual deed.
All his life it had been Mr. Pinkerton's business to study criminals and understand their natures. He knew that a crime like this one was much beyond the power of an ordinary criminal. Let a robber be ever so greedy of gold, reckless of human life, and indifferent to consequences, he would still think many times before declaring war to the death upon twelve men in a narrow car, on a swiftly moving train. This was surely no novice in crime, reasoned Mr. Pinkerton, but a man whose record would already show deeds of the greatest daring; a brave fellow, though a bad one. And even among the well-known experienced criminals there must be very few who were capable of this deed.
Mr. Pinkerton, therefore, set himself to studying the bureau's records and rogues' gallery to first pick out these few. Page after page of photographs was turned over, drawer after drawer of records was searched through, and at last a dozen or more men were decided upon as sufficiently preëminent to merit consideration in connection with the present case.
Photographs of these dozen or so were speedily struck off, and submitted by the detectives to all the men who had been in the smoking-car at the time of the robbery, to the conductor of the train and the trainmen, to other passengers, to farmers and others who might have seen the robber while making his escape, and to various people in Omaha. The result was startling. Conductor D. M. Ashmore, without hesitation, selected from the dozen or more portraits one as that of the robber. Mr. Shaw, the Omaha well-digger, who had sat just behind the robber, selected the same photograph, and was positive it pictured the man he had tried to talk to. Other passengers also picked out this photograph, as did various persons who had caught sight of the man as he escaped.
The portrait thus chosen by common accord was that of Frank Bruce, one of the most desperate burglars of the younger generation in the country, and it seemed only necessary now to find Bruce, to have the problem solved. Many days were spent, and hundreds of dollars, in searching for him. Dozens of cities were visited, and every conceivable effort made to get on his track; but it was not until his pursuers were almost weary of the chase that he was finally discovered living quietly in Chicago, on Cottage Grove Avenue, near Thirty-sixth Street, where he was operating with another high-class burglar, "Billy" Boyce.
Requisition papers were at once procured from the governor of Iowa on the governor of Illinois, and men were sent to take Bruce into custody, when the "shadows" reported that he and Boyce had left for Milwaukee, where, of course, the requisition papers were valueless. Fortunately, that same night they attempted a burglary in Milwaukee, for which they were arrested and held for ninety days. This gave the Chicago detectives abundant time to identify Bruce as the missing robber.
Mr. Pinkerton himself went at once to Milwaukee, saw Bruce in the jail, heard his story, verified its essential facts, and within two days, to his own complete disappointment, and in spite of himself, had proved a complete alibi for Bruce. To satisfy himself in this connection, Mr. Pinkerton brought conductor Ashmore and Mr. Shaw to Milwaukee, and pointed Bruce out to them; and, after looking carefully at him, both men declared they had made a mistake in choosing his portrait, and that Bruce was not the robber.
With Bruce clear, the detectives were again without a suspect, and almost without a clue. Just here, however, Mr. Pinkerton recalled that on a trip to the West, some three years previous, to investigate the case of a man arrested at Reno, Nevada, on a charge of "holding up" a faro-bank, and while stopping over in Salt Lake City, Utah, he had run across some sporting men in that city with whom he was well acquainted, and on his telling them where he was going and what his business was, one of them, whom Mr. Pinkerton had known for years, had said: "Why, the man at Reno is innocent. The men who committed that robbery are in this city. One of them is a smooth-faced boy, about twenty years of age, and the other is a heavy-set, dark-complexioned fellow, with a dark mustache. They are the intimate friends and companions of Jack Denton, the well-known gambler of Salt Lake; and only a short time ago, at Salt Lake, they entered a house one night, going in through a rear door, and compelled two ladies, who were just returned from a ball, to give up a large amount of diamonds."
Though not interested in this particular robbery, Mr. Pinkerton had mentally jotted down the intimacy of Jack Denton with this class of people; and he recalled it now in connection with the fact that Jack Denton was one of the two gamblers to whom Pollock had exposed his diamonds at the pawnshop in Omaha. He at once decided to secure definite information in regard to the boy who had been with Denton at Salt Lake three years earlier. Proceeding immediately to Salt Lake City, and making cautious inquiries, he learned that the boy in question, since he first heard of him, had been arrested and convicted of robbery at Ogden, Utah, and sentenced to one year's term in the penitentiary. An investigation at the penitentiary disclosed that the young man had given the name of James Burke, had served out his sentence under that name, and had been released about one month previous to the Pollock robbery.
