Kitabı oku: «The Spiritualists and the Detectives», sayfa 3
CHAPTER VI
Mr. Pinkerton is called upon. – Mr. Harcout, a ministerial-looking Man, with an After-dinner Voice, appears. – A Case with a Woman in it, as is usually the case. – Mr. Pinkerton hesitates. – An anxious Millionaire.
ONE hot July afternoon in 186-, I was sitting in my private office at my New York Agency, located then, and now, at the corner of New Street and Exchange Place, in the very heart of the money and stock battles of Gotham, pretty well tired out from a busy day's work in carrying to completion some of the vast transactions that had accumulated during the war, and which were in turn waiting for my professional services to unravel.
It had been a terribly hot day, and the city seemed like a vast caldron filled with a million boiling victims; and now that the day's labor was nearly over, I was principally employed in an attempt to keep cool, but finding it impossible with everybody about me, settled myself in my easy-chair at the window to watch the Babel of brokers below.
From such an altitude, where one can look down soberly upon these madmen and see their wild antics, when for the moment they are absolutely insane in their thirst for gold, never halting at the most extreme recklessness even though they know it may compel wholesale ruin, it is easy to realize how isolated cases occur where the whole human nature yields to greed, and sweeps on to the certain accomplishment of crime for its satisfaction.
Just after a particularly heavy "rush" had been made, resulting in a few broken limbs and numberless tattered hats and demolished garments, and the bulls and bears were gathered about in knots excitedly talking over their profit and loss, and wiping the great beads of perspiration, from their lobster-like faces, I noticed an important-looking gentleman turn into New Street from the direction of Broadway, and after edging through the crowds, occasionally halting to ask a question in the politest possible manner – the replies and gestures to which seemed to indicate that he was seeking my agency, which afterwards proved true – this vision of precision and politeness passed from my sight into Exchange Place, and in a few moments after I was informed that a gentleman desired to see me on very important business.
After ascertaining who the gentleman was, and already knowing him to be a harmless sort of an adventurer, and under the particular patronage of a wealthy Rochester gentleman, I admitted him and he was introduced as Mr. Harcout, of Rochester and New York.
Mr. Harcout was a character in his way, and deserving of some notice. He was a tall, heavily-built, obese gentleman of about forty-five years of age, impressive, important, and supremely polite. His face was a strange combination of imbecility and assumption; while his head, which was particularly developed in the back part, indicating low instincts that were evidently only repressed as occasion required, was consistent with the formation of his square, flat forehead, which sloped back at a suspiciously sharp angle from a pair of little, gray, expressionless eyes, which from the lack of intelligence behind them would look you out of face without blinking. His nose was straight and solidly set below, like some sharp instrument, to assist him in getting on in the world. His lips, though not unusually gross or sensual, had a way of opening and closing, during the pauses of conversation with a persistency of assertion that had the effect of keeping in the mind of the average listener that great weight should be attached to what Mr. Harcout had said, or was about to say; and at the same time, as also when he patronizingly smiled, which was almost constantly, disclosed a set of teeth of singular regularity and dazzling whiteness. A pair of very large ears, closely-cut and neatly-trimmed hair, and a whitish-olive complexion that suggested sluggish blood and a lack of fine organization, complete the sketch of his face, but could never give the full effect of the grandeur of his assumption and manners, which were a huge burlesque on chivalric courtliness. As he entered the room his gloved hand swept to the rim of his faultless silk hat, and removed it with an indescribably graceful gesture that actually seemed to make the hat say, "Ah! my very dear sir, while I belong to a gentleman of the vastest importance imaginable, be assured that we are both inexpressibly honored by this interview!" Nor were these all of his strikingly good points. He was a man that was always dressed in a suit of the finest procurable cloth, most artistically fitted to his commanding figure, and never a day passed when there was not an exquisite favor in the neat button-hole of his collar. When he had become seated in a most dignified and engaging manner, he had a neat habit of showing his little foot encased in patent leather so shining that, at a pinch, it might have answered for a mirror, by carelessly throwing his right leg over his left knee, so that he could keep up an incessant tapping upon his boot with the disengaged glove which his left hand contained; and, with his head thrown slightly back and to one side, emphasized his remarks in a graceful and convincing way with the digit finger of his soft white right hand. Altogether he would have passed for a person of considerable importance and good commercial and social standing; but to one versed in character-reading he gave the impression that he might at one time have been an easy-going clergyman, who had lapsed into some successful insurance or real estate agency that had been unexpectedly profitable; or, at least, was a man who had thoroughly and artistically acquired the science of securing an elegant livelihood through the confidence he could readily inspire in others.
"Ah! Mr. Pinkerton, I am very glad to see you – very glad to see you; in fact, I take it as a peculiar honor, though my business with you is of an unpleasant nature," said Mr. Harcout, settling into his chair with a kind of bland and amiable dignity.
I saw that he was making a great effort to please me, and told him pleasantly that it was quite natural for people to visit me on unpleasant business.
"Thank you, thank you," he replied in his rich, after-dinner voice, that seemed to come with his winning smile to his lips through a vast measure of good-fellowship and great-heartedness. "I feel that I am occupying a peculiar position, both painful and embarrassing to me: first, as the friend and agent of a wealthy man who is also an acquaintance of yours, and operates on the Produce Exchange, here; and second, in being obliged to ascertain whether you will take our case without your becoming too fully aware of the particulars, in the event of your refusal."
"Well," said I encouragingly, highly enjoying his embarrassment and assumed importance, "if you will give me a general outline of the matter, I will take it into consideration; and, in any event, you can rest assured that our walls have no ears to what our patrons have to say within them."
"Well, then," replied Harcout with a winning smile, "to be honest with you, Mr. Pinkerton, there's a woman in our case; yes – though I'm very sorry to say it – the case is almost entirely a woman case."
"In that event, Mr. Harcout, I must plainly say to you that I don't like those cases at all. I have all the business that I can attend to, and even more than I sometimes desire; and I really think you had better secure the services of some other person."
"Pray don't say so; pray don't say so, Mr. Pinkerton. Ah! what could induce you to take the case?"
"No sum of money," I replied, "unless I was fully assured that it was all right – that is, had the right on your side. Almost without exception these cases with women in them, where men become jealous of their mistresses, mistresses of their men, wives of their husbands, husbands of their wives, or when the lively and vigorous mother-in-law lends spice to life, and, indeed, all those troubles arising from social abuses, are a disgrace to every one connected with them."
Harcout seemed quite disappointed that I did not express more avidity to transact the business he proffered, but continued in his blandest manner:
"Still, supposing, although we were not altogether in the right, we were endeavoring to defend ourselves against a vile woman who had manipulated circumstances so that she had us greatly in her power?"
"I should still feel a great reluctance in taking the case. All my life I have had one steady aim before me, and that has been to purify and ennoble the detective service; and I am sure that all this sort of business is degrading in the extreme to operatives engaged upon it."
"Very good, very good. But, Mr. Pinkerton, supposing the person pursued was worth two or three millions of dollars; that after the parties had met in a casual way, and, through a strange and unexplainable feeling of admiration mingled with awe which she had compelled in him, she had acquired a familiarity with his habits, business, and vast wealth, and had from that time schemingly begun a plan of operations to entrap him into marrying her, working upon his rather susceptible temperament through his peculiar religious belief, in order to gain power over him, and then, failing to secure him as a husband, had for some time pursued a system of threats and quiet, persistent robbery, constantly becoming more brazen and impudent, until he could bear it no longer, when he had refused to see her or submit to further blackmail, whereupon she had heartlessly attempted his social and financial ruin, by bringing a suit against him for $100,000 damages for breach of promise of marriage?"
This extended conundrum flushed Harcout, and his magnificent silk handkerchief came gracefully into use to very gently and delicately absorb the perspiration that had started upon his porous face.
"Mr. Harcout," I still insisted, "I should then require to be unqualifiedly assured that the woman in question was not a young woman who had really been led to believe the promise of some man old enough to be her father, and who should accept the consequences of his indiscretion philosophically."
"Exactly, exactly," responded Harcout, quite uneasily, though with an evident endeavor at pleasantry; "and quite noble of you, too, Mr. Pinkerton! Really, I had not anticipated finding such delicate honor among detectives!" and he laughed a low, musical laugh which seemed to come gurgling up from his capacious middle.
I told him he might term it "delicate honor" or whatever he liked; that I had made thorough justice a strict business principle, and found that it won, too; but that, with the understanding that he had fairly represented the case, I would give it my consideration and apprise him of my decision the next day, giving him an appointment for that purpose; after which, while verbosely expressing the hope that I would assist him, he bowed himself out in a very impressive manner, passed into the street, which was now nearly as quiet as the Trinity Church-yard close by, and immediately went to the St. Nicholas, where he flourishingly reported the interview to the anxious millionaire, who thanked fortune for such a powerful and majestic friend.
CHAPTER VII
In Council. – Mr. Lyon the Millionaire, with Mr. Harcout the Adventurer and Adviser, appear together. – How Mr. Lyon became Mrs. Winslow's Victim. – "Our blessed Faith" and the Woman's strange Power. – A Tender Subject. – Deep Games. – A One Hundred Thousand Dollar Suit for Breach of Promise of Marriage. – A good deal of Money. – All liable to err. – A most magnificent Woman. – The "Case" taken.
IN the meantime I had a conversation on the subject with my General Superintendent, Mr. Bangs, in which we weighed the case thoroughly in all its bearings. I held, as I always do in such cases, if further investigation proved that the woman was one whose youth, or even inexperience, was such as to make it probable that she had been met by a man whose position had dazzled and bewildered her, and who, from his wealth and opportunities for exerting the immense influence of wealth, had led her to believe that he loved her, and had had such attention lavished upon her as had awakened in her heart an affection for him which should deserve some consideration, and that finally, after accomplishing his purpose, he had flung her from him, as was an every-day occurrence, it was a case which I could under no circumstances touch; its justice ought only to be determined in the courts.
On the other hand, I argued that if this troublesome woman was grown in years, had arrived at a mature age, and had deliberately planned to secure a certain power over Harcout's friend in the questionable manner ascribed – had, in fact, used the "black arts" upon him, and in every manner possible fascinated him irresistibly, and wrung from him promises and pledges which no man in his sane moments would give, in order through this dishonorably-gained power to secure him for a husband – or worse, in the event of failing in this, of levying upon his wealth for the dishonor she had herself compelled, it was a case where I had a right to interfere in the best interests of society, as the professional female blackmailer is below pity, ought to be beyond protection of any sort whatever, has forfeited all the actual and poetical regard due her sex, and should be in every instance remorselessly hunted down.
This conclusion was easily arrived at; for at each of my agencies all that is necessary for a decision upon a desired investigation is that my local superintendent shall sift the matter, to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that the vast power of the detective service under my control shall not, under any circumstances, be prostituted to the assistance of questionable enterprises, or the furtherance of dishonorable schemes.
Accordingly, when Mr. Harcout wafted himself into my office the next day, like a fragrance-laden zephyr of early summer, I informed him that he could depend on my assistance to discover the history and antecedents of the woman; but that I should have to reserve the privilege of discontinuing the service, should it at any time transpire that my operatives were being employed for the purpose of discouraging a defenceless woman in securing the justice due her.
It was arranged that Harcout was to call the next day with his patron, the persecuted millionaire, and he also expressed a desire to defer a settlement of the case in detail until that time, which was quite agreeable to me, as I wished to see the parties together and closely observe them, as well as their statements.
The next afternoon Mr. Harcout's elegant card was delivered to me, with the message that his friend was also with him. I ordered that they should be at once admitted, and in a moment the two gentlemen were ushered into my private office. I immediately recognized the elder of the two as J. H. Lyon, one of the wealthiest elevator owners and millers of Rochester, a quiet, shrewd, calculating business man, who had amassed vast wealth, or the reputation of its possession, and its consequent commercial respect and credit.
He was a short, small-sized man, dressed in plain but rich garments, and wore no jewelry save a massive solitaire diamond ring. His head, which seemed to contain an average brain, was solidly set on a great, heavy neck, that actually continued to the top of the back of his head without a curve or depression. His hair, and beard – which was shaven away from his lower lip to the curve of his chin – had a shaggy sort of look, though generally well kept, and were considerably tinged with gray; while his eyebrows were remarkably long, irregular, and forbidding. His eyes were medium-sized, of a grayish-brown color, and under the heavy shade of the brows somewhat keen and restless. His cheek-bones were quite prominent, and below them his cheeks sank away noticeably, which served to more strikingly show the upward turn of his nose and his full lips and broad, sensual mouth, which, with its half-shown, irregular teeth and ever-present tobacco-stains (for he smoked or chewed incessantly), gave him a face quite unlike those ordinarily supposed to be captivating to women. With his broad, bony hands, large, ill-shaped feet, and retiring, hesitating way, as if never exactly certain of anything, he was truly a great contrast to the pompous, elegant gentleman who seemed to have taken him under his fatherly protection.
Lyon slid into his seat in a nervous, diffident way; while Harcout, who had just drawn his chair between us, as if he desired it understood that he did not propose to yield his office of general manager of this vitally important affair under any circumstances, beamed on his friend reassuringly.
After a few remarks on the current topics of the day, and before they were themselves aware of it, we were getting along swimmingly towards an understanding of the subject-matter – Lyon, who had removed his cigar, fairly eating an immense amount of fine-cut as the voluble Harcout rattled away about the bold, bad woman who had entrapped him.
"Why, my dear Mr. Pinkerton, it's a terrible matter – an infamous affair! My friend here, Mr. Lyon, is quite nettled about it – I might say, quite cut up. You can see for yourself, sir, that it's wearing on him." This with a deprecating wave of his hand towards Lyon, who nervously gazed out of the window from under his shaggy brows.
I merely said that these things were sometimes a little wearing.
"But you see, Mr. Pinkerton, this is a peculiarly cruel case – a peculiarly cruel case. Hem! I know what is cruel in this respect, as I was once victimized by very much the same sort of a female, though she was much younger. Why, do you know, sir," and here the sympathetic Harcout's voice fell into a solemn murmur, "that my friend's beloved wife was scarcely at rest beneath the daisies when this Mrs. Winslow began worming herself into the confidence of my somewhat impressible friend here?"
I made no answer, and only took a memorandum of the facts developed, not forgetting Harcout's statement that he had once been victimized by very much the same sort of a female.
"She came to Rochester as a shining light among the exponents of our blessed faith – "
"And what may your religion be?" I asked.
"We believe in the constant communication between mortals and the occupants of the beautiful spirit home beyond the river."
"Exactly," said I, noticing the remarkable development at the back of their heads and about their mouths.
"And our friend here, Mr. Lyon," continued Harcout, with his eyes devoutly raised to the ceiling, "met her at one of our pleasant seances."
I made another note at this point.
"To be frank – 'hem! it's my nature to be frank – " then turning his face to me and raising his eyebrows inquiringly – "I suppose, Mr. Pinkerton, it is quite desirable that I should be so?" To which I responded, "Necessarily so," when he resumed: "To be frank, then, Mr. Lyon was wonderfully interested in her. In fact, the woman has a strange power of compelling admiration and even fear – shall I say fear, Mr. Lyon?"
"Guess that's about right," said Mr. Lyon tersely.
"Admiration and fear," repeated Mr. Harcout, as if thinking of something long gone by, while Lyon chewed more fiercely than ever. "Indeed, Mr. Pinkerton, she's a superb woman – a superb woman; but a she-devil for all that!"
I noticed that Harcout's fervor seemed to have come from some similar experience, and I noted both it and his heated estimate of Mrs. Winslow, although he remarked that he had never met her.
"Well, my friend here was irresistibly drawn to her, and he has told me that for a time it seemed that he had found his real affinity. You felt that way, didn't you, Lyon?"
Lyon nodded and chewed rapidly.
"But for a long time the more my friend endeavored to secure her favor, the more she seemed to draw away from and avoid him, though constantly making opportunities to more deeply impress him with her most splendid physical and mental qualities. My friend recollects now, though he gave it no attention at the time, that she shrewdly drew from him much information regarding his family affairs, habits, business relations, and wealth; and as she was, or pretended to be, a medium of great power, at those times when he sought her professional services she worked upon his feelings in such a peculiar manner as to completely upset him."
Here Mr. Lyon offered an extended remark for the first time, and said: "The truth is, Mr. Pinkerton, this is a subject that I am particularly tender upon. I think under certain circumstances I could really have made the woman my wife;" then turning to his agent, he said, "Harcout, cut it short."
"But," Harcout protested, "we can't cut it short. Mr. Pinkerton wants facts – he must have facts. Well, at one time Mr. Lyon felt a real affection for the woman, which does him honor – is no disgrace to him; but after a time began to suspect, and eventually to feel sure, that Mrs. Winslow was playing a deep game; indeed, had originally come to Rochester for that purpose; and while he still regarded her highly on account of her fine qualities, refrained from seeking her society, which at once seemed to awaken a violent and uncontrollable passion for him in her heart. She sought him everywhere and compelled him to visit her frequently, lavishing the wildest affection upon him, which he delicately repelled – delicately repelled; and, as she represented herself in straitened circumstances, charitably assisted her just as he would have done any other person in want – any other person in want; but, you see, Mrs. Winslow presumed upon this, accused him of having broken her heart, and was now cruelly deserting her after he had taught her to worship him."
Mr. Lyon's nervous face presented a singular combination of pride at his own powers, chagrin at his predicament, and a general protest that the tender privacies of a millionaire should be thus disclosed.
"In this way," continued Harcout, "she so worked upon his kindly feelings that he really gave her large sums of money – large sums of money."
"A good deal of money," interrupted Mr. Lyon.
"But finally," pursued Harcout, "my friend saw that he must discontinue his charity altogether, and through my advice – hem! through my advice, he did. Mrs. Winslow then became very impudent indeed, and annoyed my friend beyond endurance, until he was forced to refuse to recognize her, and gave orders that she should be denied admission to his office. But, being a very talented woman – "
"She is talented," said Lyon, with a start.
"She has found means to continue her operations against him incessantly, demanding still larger sums of money, and has engaged counsel to act for her. Hem! – under my advice, quite recently Mr. Lyon, by paying her five thousand dollars, secured from her a relinquishment of all claims against him, rather than oblige a public scandal. But now Mrs. Winslow claims that this was secured by fraud, and after making another fruitless demand for ten thousand dollars, which – hem! Mr. Lyon resisted through my advice, last week began suit against him for one hundred thousand dollars for breach of promise of marriage. And a hundred thousand dollars is a big sum of money, Mr. Pinkerton."
"A big sum of money," echoed Lyon.
"But of course," continued Harcout, inserting his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest and looking the very picture of injured virtue, "Mr. Lyon cares nothing for that amount. It is the principle of the thing. It is the stain upon his good name that he desires to prevent – and these juries are confoundedly unreliable."
"Confoundedly unreliable," repeated Lyon, chewing nervously.
"Therefore," said Harcout, "really believing, as we do, that we – hem! that is, Mr. Lyon, of course – is the victim of a designing woman who really means to wrongfully compel the payment of a large sum of money and ruin my friend in the estimation of the public, we are anxious that you should set about ascertaining everything concerning her for use as evidence in the case."
After asking them a few questions touching facts I desired to ascertain, the interview terminated with the understanding that Harcout should act for Mr. Lyon unqualifiedly in the matter, and call at my office as often as desirable to listen to reports of the progress of my investigations into the life and history of Mrs. Winslow. I was satisfied that not half the truth had been given me, and I was more than ever convinced of this fact when Lyon called me to one side as the lordly Harcout passed out, and said to me hurriedly:
"Don't be too hard upon the woman, Mr. Pinkerton. You know we are all liable to err; and – and, by Jupiter! Mrs. Winslow is certainly a most magnificent woman – a most magnificent woman," and then chewed himself out after his courtly henchman.
