XIV
THE CRIMEOMETER
The alarm wakened me all right, but to my surprise Kennedy had alreadygone, ahead of it. I dressed hurriedly, bolted an early breakfast, andmade my way to Trimble's. He was not there, and I had about concludedto try the laboratory, when I saw him pulling up in a cab from which hetook several packages. Donnelly had joined us by this time, andtogether we rode up in the elevator to the jewelry department. I hadnever seen a department-store when it was empty, but I think I shouldlike to shop in one under those conditions. It seemed incredible to getinto the elevator and go directly to the floor you wanted.
The jewelry department was in the front of the building on one of theupper floors, with wide windows through which the bright morning lightstreamed attractively on the glittering wares that the clerks weretaking out of the safes and disposing to their best advantage. Thestore had not opened yet, and we could work unhampered.
From his packages, Kennedy took three black boxes. They seemed to havean opening in front, while at one side was a little crank, which, asnearly as I could make out, was operated by clockwork released by anelectric contact. His first problem seemed to be to dispose the boxesto the best advantage at various angles about the counter where theKimberley Queen was on exhibition. With so much bric-a-brac and otherlarge articles about, it did not appear to be very difficult to concealthe boxes, which were perhaps four inches square on the ends and eightinches deep. From the boxes with the clockwork attachment at the sidehe led wires, centring at a point at the interior end of the aislewhere we could see but would hardly be observed by any one standing atthe jewelry counter.
Customers had now begun to arrive, and we took a position in thebackground, prepared for a long wait. Now and then Donnelly casuallysauntered past us. He and Craig had disposed the store detectives in acertain way so as to make their presence less obvious, while the clerkshad received instructions how to act under the circumstance that asuspicious person was observed.
Once when Donnelly came up he was quite excited. He had just received amessage from Bentley that some of the stolen property, the pearls,probably, from the dog collar that had been taken from Shorham's, hadbeen offered for sale by a "fence" known to the police as a formerconfederate of Annie Grayson.
"You see, that is one great trouble with them all," he remarked, withhis eye roving about the store in search of anything irregular. "Ashoplifter rarely becomes a habitual criminal until after she passesthe age of twenty-five. If they pass that age without quitting, thereis little hope of their getting right again, as you see. For by thattime they have long since begun to consort with thieves of the othersex."
The hours dragged heavily, though it was a splendid chance to observeat leisure the psychology of the shopper who looked at much and boughtlittle, the uncomfortableness of the men who had been dragged to thedepartment store slaughter to say "Yes" and foot the bills, akaleidoscopic throng which might have been interesting if we had notbeen so intent on only one matter.
Kennedy grasped my elbow in vise-like fingers. Involuntarily I lookeddown at the counter where the Kimberley Queen reposed in all thetrappings of genuineness. Mrs. Willoughby had arrived again.
We were too far off to observe distinctly just what was taking place,but evidently Mrs. Willoughby was looking at the gem. A moment lateranother woman sauntered casually up to the counter. Even at a distanceI recognised Annie Grayson. As nearly as I could make out they seemedto exchange remarks. The clerk answered a question or two, then beganto search for something apparently to show them. Every one about themwas busy, and, obedient to instructions from Donnelly, the storedetectives were in the background.
Kennedy was leaning forward watching as intently as the distance wouldpermit. He reached over and pressed the button near him.
After a minute or two the second woman left, followed shortly by Mrs.Willoughby herself. We hurried over to the counter, and Kennedy seizedthe box containing the Kimberley Queen. He examined it carefully. Aflaw in the paste jewel caught his eye.
"There has been a substitution here," he cried. "See! The paste jewelwhich we used was flawless; this has a little carbon spot here on theside."
"One of my men has been detailed to follow each of them," whisperedDonnelly. "Shall I order them to bring Mrs. Willoughby and AnnieGrayson to the superintendent's office and have them searched?"
"No," Craig almost shouted. "That would spoil everything. Don't make amove until I get at the real truth of this affair."
The case was becoming more than ever a puzzle to me, but there wasnothing left for me to do but to wait until Kennedy was ready toaccompany Dr. Guthrie to the Willoughby house. Several times he triedto reach the doctor by telephone, but it was not until the middle ofthe afternoon that he succeeded.
"I shall be quite busy the rest of the afternoon, Walter," remarkedCraig, after he had made his appointment with Dr. Guthrie. "If you willmeet me out at the Willoughbys' at about eight o'clock, I shall be muchobliged to you."
I promised, and tried to devote myself to catching up with my notes,which were always sadly behind when Kennedy had an important case. Idid not succeed in accomplishing much, however.
Dr. Guthrie himself met me at the door of the beautiful house onWoodridge Avenue and with a hearty handshake ushered me into the largeroom in the right wing outside of which we had placed the telegraphonetwo nights before. It was the library.
We found Kennedy arranging an instrument in the music-room whichadjoined the library. From what little knowledge I have of electricityI should have said it was, in part at least, a galvanometer, one ofthose instruments which register the intensity of minute electriccurrents. As nearly as I could make out, in this case the galvanometerwas so arranged that its action swung to one side or the other a littleconcave mirror hung from a framework which rested on the table.Directly in front of it was an electric light, and the reflection ofthe light was caught in the mirror and focused by its concavity upon apoint to one side of the light. Back of it was a long strip of groundglass and an arrow point, attached to which was a pen which touched aroll of paper.
On the large table in the library itself Kennedy had placed in thecentre a transverse board partition, high enough so that two peopleseated could see each other's faces and converse over it, but could notsee each other's hands. On one side of the partition were two metaldomes which were fixed to a board set on the table. On the other side,in addition to space on which he could write, Kennedy had arranged whatlooked like one of these new miniature moving-picture apparatusesoperated by electricity. Indeed, I felt that it must be that, fordirectly in front of it, hanging on the wall, in plain view of any oneseated on the side of the table containing the metal domes, was a largewhite sheet.
The time for the experiment, whatever its nature might be, had at lastarrived, and Dr. Guthrie introduced Mr. and Mrs. Willoughby to us asspecialists whom he had persuaded with great difficulty to come downfrom New York. Mr. Willoughby he requested to remain outside untilafter the tests. She seemed perfectly calm as she greeted us, andlooked with curiosity at the paraphernalia which Kennedy had installedin her library. Kennedy, who was putting some finishing touches on it,was talking in a low voice to reassure her.
"If you will sit here, please, Mrs. Willoughby, and place your hands onthese two brass domes--there, that's it. This is just a littlearrangement to test your nervous condition. Dr. Guthrie, whounderstands it, will take his position outside in the music-room atthat other table. Walter, just switch off that light, please.
"Mrs. Willoughby, I may say that in testing, say, the memory, wepsychologists have recently developed two tests, the event test, wheresomething is made to happen before a person's eyes and later he isasked to describe it, and the picture test, where a picture is shownfor a certain length of time, after which the patient is also asked todescribe what was in the picture. I have endeavoured to combine thesetwo ideas by using the moving-picture machine which you see here. I amgoing to show three reels of films."
As
nearly as I could make out Kennedy had turned on the light in thelantern on his side of the table. As he worked over the machine, whichfor the present served to distract Mrs. Willoughby's attention fromherself, he was asking her a series of questions. From my position Icould see that by the light of the machine he was recording both thequestions and the answers, as well as the time registered to the fifthof a second by a stop-watch. Mrs. Willoughby could not see what he wasdoing under the pretence of working over his little moving-picturemachine.
He had at last finished the questioning. Suddenly, without any warning,a picture began to play on the sheet. I must say that I was startledmyself. It represented the jewelry counter at Trimble's, and in it Icould see Mrs. Willoughby herself in animated conversation with one ofthe clerks. I looked intently, dividing my attention between thepicture and the woman. But so far as I could see there was nothing inthis first film that incriminated either of them.
Kennedy started on the second without stopping. It was practically thesame as the first, only taken from a different angle.
He had scarcely run it half through when Dr. Guthrie opened the door.
"I think Mrs. Willoughby must have taken her hands off the metaldomes," he remarked; "I can get no record out here."
I had turned when he opened the door, and now I caught a glimpse ofMrs. Willoughby standing, her hands pressed tightly to her head as ifit were bursting, and swaying as if she would faint. I do not know whatthe film was showing at this point, for Kennedy with a quick movementshut it off and sprang to her side.
"There, that will do, Mrs. Willoughby. I see that you are not well," hesoothed. "Doctor, a little something to quiet her nerves. I think wecan complete our work merely by comparing notes. Call Mr. Willoughby,Walter. There, sir, if you will take charge of your wife and perhapstake her for a turn or two in the fresh air, I think we can tell you ina few moments whether her condition is in any way serious or not."
Mrs. Willoughby was on the verge of hysterics as her husband supportedher out of the room. The door had scarcely shut before Kennedy threwopen a window and seemed to beckon into the darkness. As if fromnowhere, Donnelly and Bentley sprang no and were admitted.
Dr. Guthrie had now returned from the music-room, bearing a sheet ofpaper on which was traced a long irregular curve at various points onwhich marginal notes had been written hastily.
Kennedy leaped directly into the middle of things with hischaracteristic ardour. "You recall," he began, "that no one seemed toknow just who took the jewels in both the cases you first reported?'Seeing is believing,' is an old saying, but in the face of suchreports as you detectives gathered it is in a fair way to lose itsforce. And you were not at fault, either, for modern psychology isproving by experiments that people do not see even a fraction of thethings they confidently believe they see.
"For example, a friend of mine, a professor in a Western university,has carried on experiments with scores of people and has not found onewho could give a completely accurate description of what he had seen,even in the direct testimony; while under the influence of questions,particularly if they were at all leading, witnesses all showedextensive inaccuracies in one or more particulars, and that even thoughthey are in a more advantageous position for giving reports than wereyour clerks who were not prepared. Indeed, it is often a wonder to methat witnesses of ordinary events who are called upon in court torelate what they saw after a considerable lapse of time are as accurateas they are, considering the questioning they often go through frominterested parties, neighbours and friends, and the constant and oftenbiased rehearsing of the event. The court asks the witness to tell thetruth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. How can he? In fact,I am often surprised that there is such a resemblance between thetestimony and the actual facts of the case!
"But I have here a little witness that never lies, and, mindful of thefallibility of ordinary witnesses, I called it in. It is a new,compact, little motion camera which has just been perfected to doautomatically what the big moving-picture making cameras do."
He touched one of the little black boxes such as we had seen himinstall in the jewelry department at Trimble's.
"Each of these holds one hundred and sixty feet of film," he resumed,"enough to last three minutes, taking, say, sixteen pictures to thefoot and running about one foot a second. You know that less than tenor eleven pictures a second affect the retina as separate, brokenpictures. The use of this compact little motion camera was suggested tome by an ingenious but cumbersome invention recently offered to thepolice in Paris--the installation on the clock-towers in variousstreets of cinematograph apparatus directed by wireless. The motioncamera as a detective has now proved its value. I have here three filmstaken at Trimble's, from different angles, and they clearly showexactly what actually occurred while Mrs. Willoughby and Annie Graysonwere looking at the Kimberley Queen."
He paused as if analysing the steps in his own mind. "The telegraphonegave me the first hint of the truth," he said. "The motion camerabrought me a step nearer, but without this third instrument, while Ishould have been successful, I would not have got at the whole truth."
He was fingering the apparatus on the library table connected with thatin the music-room. "This is the psychometer for testing mentalaberrations," he explained. "The scientists who are using it to-day areworking, not with a view to aiding criminal jurisprudence, but with thehope of making such discoveries that the mental health of the race maybe bettered. Still, I believe that in the study of mental diseasesthese men are furnishing the knowledge upon which future criminologistswill build to make the detection of crime an absolute certainty. Someday there will be no jury, no detectives, no witnesses, no attorneys.The state will merely submit all suspects to tests of scientificinstruments like these, and as these instruments can not make mistakesor tell lies their evidence will be conclusive of guilt or innocence.
"Already the psychometer is an actual working fact. No living man canconceal his emotions from the uncanny instrument. He may bring the mostgigantic of will-powers into play to conceal his inner feelings and thepsychometer will record the very work which he makes this will-power do.
"The machine is based upon the fact that experiments have proved thatthe human body's resistance to an electrical current is increased withthe increase of the emotions. Dr. Jung, of Zurich, thought that itwould be a very simple matter to record these varying emotions, and thepsychometer is the result--simple and crude to-day compared with whatwe have a right to expect in the future.
"A galvanometer is so arranged that its action swings a mirror fromside to side, reflecting a light. This light falls on a ground-glassscale marked off into centimetres, and the arrow is made to follow thebeam of light. A pen pressing down on a metal drum carrying a long rollof paper revolved by machinery records the variations. Dr. Guthrie, whohad charge of the recording, simply sat in front of the ground glassand with the arrow point followed the reflection of the light as itmoved along the scale, in this way making a record on the paper on thedrum, which I see he is now holding in his hand.
"Mrs. Willoughby, the subject, and myself, the examiner, sat here,facing each other over this table. Through those metal domes on whichshe was to keep her hands she received an electric current so weak thatit could not be felt even by the most sensitive nerves. Now with everyincrease in her emotion, either while I was putting questions to her orshowing her the pictures, whether she showed it outwardly or not, sheincreased her body's resistance to the current that was being passed inthrough her hands. The increase was felt by the galvanometer connectedby wires in the music-room, the mirror swung, the light travelled onthe scale, the arrow was moved by Dr. Guthrie, and her varying emotionswere recorded indelibly upon the revolving sheet of paper, recorded insuch a way as to show their intensity and reveal to the trainedscientist much of the mental condition of the subject."
Kennedy and Dr. Guthrie now conversed in low tones. Once in a while Icould catch a scrap of the conversation--"not an epileptic," "noabnormal confo
rmation of the head," "certain mental defects," "oftenthe result of sickness or accident."
"Every time that woman appeared there was a most peculiar disturbance,"remarked Dr. Guthrie as Kennedy took the roll of paper from him andstudied it carefully.
At length the light seemed to break through his face.
"Among the various kinds of insanity," he said, slowly measuring hiswords, "there is one that manifests itself as an irresistible impulseto steal. Such terms as neuropath and kleptomaniac are often regardedas rather elegant names for contemptible excuses invented by medicalmen to cover up stealing. People are prone to say cynically, 'Poorman's sins; rich man's diseases.' Yet kleptomania does exist, and it iseasy to make it seem like crime when it is really persistent,incorrigible, and irrational stealing. Often it is so great as to beincurable. Cases have been recorded of clergymen who were kleptomaniacsand in one instance a dying victim stole the snuffbox of his confessor.
"It is the pleasure and excitement of stealing, not the desire for theobject stolen, which distinguishes the kleptomaniac from the ordinarythief. Usually the kleptomaniac is a woman, with an insane desire tosteal for the mere sake of stealing. The morbid craving for excitementwhich is at the bottom of so many motiveless and useless crimes, againand again has driven apparently sensible men and women to ruin and evento suicide. It is a form of emotional insanity, not loss of control ofthe will, but perversion of the will. Some are models in their lucidintervals, but when the mania is on them they cannot resist. The veryact of taking constitutes the pleasure, not possession. One must takeinto consideration many things, for such diseases as kleptomania belongexclusively to civilisation; they are the product of an age ofsensationalism. Naturally enough, woman, with her delicately balancednervous organisation, is the first and chief offender."
Kennedy had seated himself at the table and was writing hastily. Whenhe had finished, he held the papers in his hand to dry.
He handed one sheet each to Bentley and Donnelly. We crowded about.Kennedy had simply written out two bills for the necklace and thecollar of pearls.
"Send them in to Mr. Willoughby," he added. "I think he will be glad topay them to hush up the scandal."
We looked at each other in amazement at the revelation.
"But what about Annie Grayson?" persisted Donnelly.
"I have taken care of her," responded Kennedy laconically. "She isalready under arrest. Would you like to see why?"
A moment later we had all piled into Dr. Guthrie's car, standing at thedoor.
At the cosy little Grayson villa we found two large eyed detectives anda very angry woman waiting impatiently. Heaped up on a table in theliving room was a store of loot that readily accounted for the ocularpeculiarity of the detectives.
The jumble on the table contained a most magnificent collection ofdiamonds, sapphires, ropes of pearls, emeralds, statuettes, and bronzeand ivory antiques, books in rare bindings, and other baubles whichwealth alone can command. It dazzled our eyes as we made a mentalinventory of the heap. Yet it was a most miscellaneous collection.Beside a pearl collar with a diamond clasp were a pair of plain leatherslippers and a pair of silk stockings. Things of value and things of novalue were mixed as if by a lunatic. A beautiful neck ornament ofcarved coral lay near a half-dozen common linen handkerchiefs. A stripof silk hid a valuable collection of antique jewellery. Besidesdiamonds and precious stones by the score were gold and silverornaments, silks, satins, laces, draperies, articles of virtu, plumes,even cutlery and bric-a-brac. All this must have been the result ofcountless excursions to the stores of New York and innumerable cleverthefts.
We could only look at each other in amazement and wonder at thedefiance written on the face of Annie Grayson.
"In all this strange tangle of events," remarked Kennedy, surveying thepile with obvious satisfaction, "I find that the precise instruments ofscience have told me one more thing. Some one else discovered Mrs.Willoughby's weakness, led her on, suggested opportunities to her, usedher again and again, profited by her malady, probably to the extent ofthousands of dollars. My telegraphone record hinted at that. In someway Annie Grayson secured the confidence of Mrs. Willoughby. The onetook for the sake of taking; the other received for the sake of money.Mrs. Willoughby was easily persuaded by her new friend to leave herewhat she had stolen. Besides, having taken it, she had no furtherinterest in it.
"The rule of law is that every one is responsible who knows the natureand consequences of his act. We have absolute proof that you, AnnieGrayson, although you did not actually commit any of the theftsyourself, led Mrs. Willoughby on and profited by her. Dr. Guthrie willtake care of the case of Mrs. Willoughby. But the law must deal withyou for playing on the insanity of a kleptomaniac--the cleverest schemeyet of the queen of shoplifters."
As Kennedy turned nonchalantly from the detectives who had seized AnnieGrayson, he drew a little red folder from his pocket.
"You see, Walter," he smiled, "how soon one gets into a habit? I'malmost a regular commuter, now. You know, they are always bringing outthese little red folders just when things grow interesting."
I glanced over his shoulder. He was studying the local timetable.
"We can get the last train from Glenclair if we hurry," he announced,stuffing the folder back into his pocket. "They will take her to Newarkby trolley, I suppose. Come on."
We made our hasty adieux and escaped as best we could the shower ofcongratulations.
"Now for a rest," he said, settling back into the plush covered seatfor the long ride into town, his hat down over his eyes and his legshunched up against the back of the next seat. Across in the tube anduptown in a nighthawk cab we went and at last we were home for a goodsleep.
"This promises to be an off-day," Craig remarked, the next morning overthe breakfast table. "Meet me in the forenoon and we'll take a long,swinging walk. I feel the need of physical exercise."
"A mark of returning sanity!" I exclaimed.
I had become so used to being called out on the unexpected, now, that Ialmost felt that some one might stop us on our tramp. Nothing of thesort happened, however, until our return.
Then a middle-aged man and a young girl, heavily veiled, were waitingfor Kennedy, as we turned in from the brisk finish in the cutting riverwind along the Drive.
"Winslow is my name, sir," the man began, rising nervously as weentered the room, "and this is my only daughter, Ruth."
Kennedy bowed and we waited for the man to proceed. He drew his handover his forehead which was moist with perspiration in spite of theseason. Ruth Winslow was an attractive young woman, I could see at aglance, although her face was almost completely hidden by the thickveil.
"Perhaps, Ruth, I had better--ah--see these gentlemen alone?" suggestedher father gently.
"No, father," she answered in a tone of forced bravery, "I think not. Ican stand it. I must stand it. Perhaps I can help you in telling aboutthe--the case."
Mr. Winslow cleared his throat.
"We are from Goodyear, a little mill-town," he proceeded slowly, "andas you doubtless can see we have just arrived after travelling all day."
"Goodyear," repeated Kennedy slowly as the man paused. "The chiefindustry, of course, is rubber, I suppose."
"Yes," assented Mr. Winslow, "the town centres about rubber. Ourfactories are not the largest but are very large, nevertheless, and areall that keep the town going. It is on rubber, also, I fear, that thetragedy which I am about to relate hangs. I suppose the New York papershave had nothing to say of the strange death of Bradley Cushing, ayoung chemist in Goodyear who was formerly employed by the mills buthad lately set up a little laboratory of his own?"
Kennedy turned to me. "Nothing unless the late editions of the eveningpapers have it," I replied.
"Perhaps it is just as well," continued Mr. Winslow. "They wouldn'thave it straight. In fact, no one has it straight yet. That is why wehave come to you. You see, to my way of thinking Bradley Cushing was onthe road to changing the name of the town from Goodyear
to Cushing. Hewas not the inventor of synthetic rubber about which you hear nowadays,but he had improved the process so much that there is no doubt thatsynthetic rubber would soon have been on the market cheaper and betterthan the best natural rubber from Para.
"Goodyear is not a large place, but it is famous for its rubber anduses a great deal of raw material. We have sent out some of the bestmen in the business, seeking new sources in South America, in Mexico,in Ceylon, Malaysia and the Congo. What our people do not know aboutrubber is hardly worth knowing, from the crude gum to the thousands offorms of finished products. Goodyear is a wealthy little town, too, forits size. Naturally all its investments are in rubber, not only in ourown mills but in companies all over the world. Last year several of ourleading citizens became interested in a new concession in the Congogranted to a group of American capitalists, among whom was LewisBorland, who is easily the local magnate of our town. When this grouporganised an expedition to explore the region preparatory to taking upthe concession, several of the best known people in Goodyearaccompanied the party and later subscribed for large blocks of stock.
"I say all this so that you will understand at the start just what partrubber plays in the life of our little community. You can readily seethat such being the case, whatever advantage the world at large mightgain from cheap synthetic rubber would scarcely benefit those whosemoney and labour had been expended on the assumption that rubber wouldbe scarce and dear. Naturally, then, Bradley Cushing was not preciselypopular with a certain set in Goodyear. As for myself, I am frank toadmit that I might have shared the opinion of many others regardinghim, for I have a small investment in this Congo enterprise myself. Butthe fact is that Cushing, when he came to our town fresh from hiscollege fellowship in industrial chemistry, met my daughter."
Without taking his eyes off Kennedy, he reached over and patted thegloved hand that clutched the arm of the chair alongside his own. "Theywere engaged and often they used to talk over what they would do whenBradley's invention of a new way to polymerise isoprene, as the processis called, had solved the rubber question and had made him rich. Ifirmly believe that their dreams were not day dreams, either. The thingwas done. I have seen his products and I know something about rubber.There were no impurities in his rubber."
Mr. Winslow paused. Ruth was sobbing quietly.
"This morning," he resumed hastily, "Bradley Cushing was found dead inhis laboratory under the most peculiar circumstances. I do not knowwhether his secret died with him or whether some one has stolen it.From the indications I concluded that he had been murdered."
Such was the case as Kennedy and I heard it then.
Ruth looked up at him with tearful eyes wistful with pain, "Would Mr.Kennedy work on it?" There was only one answer.