The Crime of the Century; Or, The Assassination of Dr. Patrick Henry Cronin

by Henry M. Hunt

A STARTLING DISCOVERY.

Strangely enough, as in the case of the body, the mystery was solved by employees of the sewer department. On the afternoon of November 8th complaint was made at the Lake View offices that some obstruction existed in the sewer underneath the man-hole at the corner of Evanston and Buena avenues. This point was a mile and a quarter southeast of the catch-basin where the body had been found in May, and about a quarter of a mile from the ditch in which the trunk with its rolls of blood-stained cotton had been thrown. Three men, Michael Gilbert, foreman of the cleaning gang, Michael Reese, and W. W. McMillan, the foreman of the flushing gang, were sent to the place with orders to move the obstruction without delay. The three men raised the cover of the catch-basin and Reese was lowered into it. He had barely reached the bottom when he shouted out that he had found a wooden box that contained something that sounded like iron or tin. He was quickly hauled up, bringing the box with him. It was an oblong affair, about a foot in length, seven or eight inches deep and nearly as broad. In spots it evidenced that it had once been highly varnished and polished. The brass handle in the centre of the cover indicated that it had been carried as a satchel is carried. Gilbert forced open the case while his associates looked on with eager eyes. A single glance at the contents, covered though they were with the filth that had leaked in through the opening, was sufficient, and the three men exclaimed almost with one breath,

"THAT IS DR. CRONIN'S BOX."

The contents were an assortment of extension splints with which the Doctor had provided himself in anticipation of having to treat a fractured leg when he had reached Iceman O'Sullivan's house in Lake View.

THE BOX AND ITS CONTENTS.

Reese was again lowered into the catch-basin and after a few moments exclaimed that he had made a further find. This time he passed up the broken frame of a satchel, its coverings entirely consumed by the foul waters of the sewer, a second satchel and a bundle of clothes covered with black, slimy refuse. After a hurried consultation the men decided to notify the police, and a call was sent to the Lake View station. Within a few moments the patrol wagon—the same one which had driven Dr. Cronin's naked body to the morgue—was on the scene. Very quickly the instrument box, the leather satchel, the bundle of clothes and the rotted satchel were loaded on a stretcher and carried to the Sheffield avenue station.

THE LOAD ON THE STRETCHER.

Information of the discovery was telephoned to the Central Police Department, and Chief Hubbard responded with an order that the things should be brought down at once. One hour later the filthy packages were spread out on a rubber tarpaulin in the Chief's private office, and the leather satchel, having been washed under the running hydrant, was opened. The first article that was taken out was a book that had swollen to more than twice its natural size. The Chief opened it. On the fly leaf, partially covered with dirt, was the name "Dr. P. H. Cronin," written in the bold hand of the man who had once owned the book. In one of the pockets was a package of business cards in a good state of preservation. They read as follows:

DR. P. H. CRONIN,
Physician and Surgeon, Chicago.
Office, 501 Opera House Block,		Residence, 468 and 470 North Clark street.
Office Hours:		Office Hours:
11 to 1 p.m.; 2 to 5 p.m.		9 to 11 a.m.; 6 to 7:30 p.m.

Nothing more than this was needed to prove that the articles were really those that had once belonged to the physician, and the Chief gave orders that the dirty mass should be taken to the Chicago avenue station and thoroughly cleaned. By this time, however, the developments of the day had reached State's Attorney Longenecker, who was conducting the trial in the Court House, about half a-mile away, and by his instructions the order was countermanded, and the things were taken to his private office. Mrs. Conklin was sent for, and upon her arrival the bundle of clothes was unrolled. Lieut. Schuettler separated the different pieces, handling the revolting articles as coolly as an ordinary man would a towel, while Mrs. Conklin looked on endeavoring to be more cool and collected than any one else in the little group. The first thing held up was a light spring overcoat of a fashionable pattern. It had been slit up the back by a keen edged knife, and the sleeves were torn clean up to the collar.