Bucholz and the Detectives

by Allan Pinkerton

Bucholz grows Skeptical and Doubtful.—A Fruitless Search.—The Murderer Involuntarily Reveals Himself.

The days sped on, and the trial of William Bucholz, for the murder of Henry Schulte, his employer, was fast approaching. Regularly Edward Sommers had visited the imprisoned man, and upon the occasion of each visit had endeavored to assure him of the possibility of escaping from the charge against him.

The mind of Bucholz was in a chaotic state of worriment and unrest. Between his confidences to Edward Sommers and the repeated warnings of his counsel he scarcely knew what to do or what to say. At times he would bitterly regret having informed Sommers of anything about himself, and at others he would hug him to his breast as the only human being upon whom he could rely.

To Sommers this experience had been a trying one indeed. He had been compelled to endure the various moods of Bucholz with patience and equanimity and to endeavor to disabuse his mind of frequent-recurring doubts. Many times during his visits he would be vexed beyond endurance at the doubtful questionings of his companion, which he frequently found very difficult to parry or explain. Then, too, he became extravagant in his demands, and required the choicest delicacies that could be procured. He wanted new clothing, and even expressed a desire that Sommers should procure for him a uniform dress of the regiment of hussars of which he was formerly a member—in fact, became so importunate in his demands and so ridiculous in his fancied wants, that Sommers, fearful of affording grounds for suspicion in the minds both of the inmates of the prison and of the counsel for Bucholz, was compelled to emphatically refuse to gratify his wishes.

These denials of course were productive of differences of opinion and angry altercations. Fresh doubts would be engendered, which would require the exercise of all the ingenuity of the detective to allay. Bucholz seemed to have no idea that a liberal expenditure of money at this time would be very injurious to his case, and that as Mr. Bollman had sole charge of the money received from Germany, he would naturally become suspicious of his client should he discover that Sommers was supplying his wants from a source which his counsel was ignorant of.

He thirsted also for a glance at the money which had been found, especially the gold-piece with a hole in it, and besought Sommers to bring it with him, so that he might feast his eyes upon the wealth that was soon to be his. So frequent and imperious became these demands that Sommers had the greatest difficulty in convincing him of the danger to both of them which would be attendant upon any such proceeding.

He had informed Bucholz that the money had been securely placed in the vaults of a safe deposit company in New York City, but he did not tell him that the German Consul carried the key.

Upon the occasion of almost every visit he would be compelled to wrestle with this doubtfulness of his companion before he could induce him to converse upon the matters that would naturally be considered of the utmost importance to him, but after long and arduous labor, he usually left him more cheerful and hopeful than he found him.

The time drew near for the anonymous letters to arrive from San Francisco, and Sommers went to South Norwalk, and, locating the spot mentioned in the letter, he dug up the solid earth in such a manner as to convince whoever came to look for the hidden articles mentioned in the communication, that some one else had anticipated them, and that the articles had been removed.

The letters were duly received, and Mr. Olmstead, who, of course, had been informed of their manufacture, upon receiving his paid no attention to the important information it was supposed to convey. The attorneys for Bucholz, however, visited the spot, and to their dismay and disappointment they found the earth broken, and every indication that the articles, if any existed, had been removed in advance of their arrival.