The boss drove on to the house, which he observed was situated at about an equal distance from three different railway stations and surrounded by a piazza with pillars. He walked around it, examining the vines until his eye caught a torn creeper and a white scratch on the paint. It had been an outside job after all, and two weeks had already been lost. Deduction was responsible for a mistake which would not have occurred had a little knowledge been acquired first. That is the lesson of this story.
The denouement, which has no lesson at all, is interesting. The superintendent saw no prospect of getting back the necklace, but before so informing the client, decided to cogitate on the matter for a day or two. During that time he met by accident a friend who made a hobby of studying yeggmen and criminals and occasionally doing a bit of the amateur tramp act himself.
“By the way,” said the friend, “do you ever hear of any ‘touches’ up the river or along the Sound?”
“Sometimes,” answered the boss, pricking up his ears. “Why do you ask?”
“Why, the other night,” replied the friend, “I happened to be meeting my wife up at the Grand Central about six o’clock and I saw two yeggs that I knew taking a train out. I thought it was sort of funny. Pittsburgh Ike and Denver Red.”
“When was it?”
“Two weeks ago,” said the friend.
“Thanks,” returned the boss. “You must excuse me now; I’ve got an important engagement.”
Three hours later Pittsburgh Ike and Denver Red were in a cell at head-quarters. At six o’clock that evening the necklace had been returned. This was a coincidence that might not occur in a hundred years, but had the deductive detective determined the question he would still be pondering on the comparative probability of whether the cook, the chore man, or the hired girl was the guilty party.
A clean bit of detection on the part of an agency, and quite in the day’s work, was the comparatively recent capture of a thief who secured three hundred and sixty thousand dollars worth of securities from a famous banking institution in New York City by means of a very simple device. A firm of stock brokers had borrowed from this bank about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a day or two and put up the securities as collateral. In the ordinary course of business, when the borrower has no further use for the money, he sends up a certified check for the amount of the loan with interest, and the bank turns over the securities to the messenger. In this particular case a messenger arrived with a certified check, shoved it into the cage, and took away what was pushed out to him in return—three hundred and sixty thousand dollars in bonds. The certification turned out to be a forgery and the securities vanished. I do not know whether the police were consulted or not. Sometimes in such cases the banks prefer to resort to more private methods and, perhaps, save the necessity of making a public admission of their stupidity. When my friend, the superintendent, was called in, the officers of the bank were making the wildest sort of guesses as to the identity of the master mind and hand which had deceived the cashier. He must, they felt sure, have made the forgery with a camel’s hair brush of unrivalled fineness.