Bucholz and the Detectives

by Allan Pinkerton

The reader is no doubt by this time fully aware of the character of Edward Sommers. He was a detective, and in my employ. Day by day, as his intimacy with William Bucholz had increased, I had been duly informed of the fact. Step by step, as he had neared the point desired, I had received the information and advised the course of action.

Every night before retiring the detective would furnish me with a detailed statement of the proceedings of the day which had passed, and I was perfectly cognizant of the progress he made, and was fully competent, by reason of that knowledge, to advise and direct his future movements.

The manner of his arrest had been planned by me, and successfully carried out; the money package had been made up in my office, and the forged order was the handiwork of one of my clerks, and the ingenious manner of carrying out this matter had completely deluded his accusers, by whom the charge was made in perfect good faith.

During his occupancy of the prison he had so thoroughly won the confidence of William Bucholz that he had become almost a necessity to him. This guilty man, hugging to himself the knowledge of his crime and his ill-gotten gains, had found the burden too heavy to bear. Many times during their intercourse had he been tempted to pour into the ears of his suddenly-discovered friend the history of his life, and only the stern and frequently-repeated commands of his watchful counsel had prevented the revelation. But the time had come when, either through the fear of losing what he had risked so much to gain, or from the impelling force of that unseen agency which seeks a companion or a confidant, he had confided to his fellow-prisoner the hiding-place of the old man's wealth—the money stained with the life-blood of his master.

How much he may have been guided to this course by the question of self-interest is a matter of speculation. He had been cruel enough to strike this old man down and to rob him of his money. He had been wary enough to wound himself, and to have feigned a terror which had deluded many into a belief in his innocence. He had been sufficiently sagacious to keep from his attorneys all knowledge of this money, and he had repeatedly denied to Sommers, and to every one else, any participation in the dark deed of that winter's night.

When, however, it appeared to be possible that his fellow-prisoner might be of assistance to him in his approaching trial, and that this assistance could only be rendered by the release of Sommers from jail, he had caught at the suggestion and the result had followed.

I became convinced as matters progressed that whatever knowledge Bucholz had of the crime would never be communicated while Sommers remained a prisoner, and hence, after he had been confined long enough to accomplish the preliminary object in view, I arranged that his bail should be reduced and that he should be released.

It is not necessary to relate in detail the daily intercourse of these two men during their days of joint imprisonment. How Sommers, by dexterous questioning, had fathomed the mind of the suspected murderer, and become so closely identified with his interests, that he was regarded as the only man upon whom he could rely for assistance.

The detective had played his part admirably. Although the constant object of suspicion, he had succeeded in overcoming all doubts that were entertained of his true position; and, although Bucholz had been repeatedly warned by his counsel against this man in particular, he had successfully outwitted them, and knew more of their client than they had been able to learn.

After obtaining the information as to the place where William had secreted the money which had been taken from the murdered man, Sommers at once telegraphed, in cipher, the fact to my New York agency and requested instructions how to proceed. A trusted operative was at once sent to act with him, and to accompany him upon his visit to the barn in search of the treasure, and operative John Curtin was the man selected for that duty.