I write and believe not to sicken you with my words, but it is enough that you are well in health. I take the liberty again not having any one else but you, and I believe to find a brother in you, not a friend. I ask you nothing, only if you have time to come and see me as soon as possible. I ask you this as a favor because I know and believe to find a true friend, as I want to ask you a certain thing at the cost of my life. I will not say any more. Bring me five cents of paper and envelopes to write letters and when you come I will give you the money. Nothing else. I am yours ever. Servant and
Perfect friend,
A STROLLO.
The third letter from the perfect friend to his equally perfect friend is an extraordinary combination of ingenuity and ignorance. It contains the only suggestion of a defence—that of an alibi.
NEW YORK, October 30, 1905.
ESTEEMED FRIEND:
With retard I answer in receiving yours. I was very, very glad. I believe all you told me and I am grateful, and hope you will not betray me, because you know it will cost the life of a poor unfortunate, so do as you told me, keep things to ourselves, if you wish to help me you will do me a great service, and if God helps me, you can dispose of my life.
So I will have you called unexpected, saying that I did not know if you remembered. So if you are called the first thing you must do is to make believe to look at me, and then you say you remember of having seen me looking at the pictures in front of place where you work, and you asked me if I wanted my pictures taken and I said no. If they ask at what time say 5:20 or 5:30 P.M., and that you spoke with me for quite awhile. If they ask how was he dressed? The coat was black, the shoes russet the Trousers with white stripes which is the one I am now wearing; what tie, I don't remember, I only know he was well dressed, the hat was brown, if they ask did he have a mark on his hand? Say no, he had a ring with a black stone, how many times did you see him, say that after your work you were going around Mott Street and you saw me again and how it was eight o'clock or past eight and you saw me with a handkerchief around my hand, and you said to me, why I had my hand so. And he answered that some one struck him, I asked if it hurt much, he said he did not feel it, did both of you go to drink. No. Where else did Strollo go, Strollo said he was going at the Bleecker Street Hotel to sleep, did you see him again. No. Nothing else, if you want to help me reflect well, but you don't need any more words from me say just what I have said and I hope, with faith of a brother not a friend, I am ever your Friend,
A. STROLLO.
It may, and probably will, appear to the reader that a clearer case of guilt could hardly be established, but the action of juries is always problematical, and this was a case composed entirely of circumstantial evidence. The jury would be obliged to find that no reasonable hypothesis consistent with the innocence of the accused could be formulated upon the evidence. Thus, even in the face of the facts proven against him, some "freak" juryman might still have said, "But, after all, how do you know that Strollo killed him? Some other fellow might have done it." Even the "faking" of a defence does not prove the defendant guilty, but merely that he fears conviction, and is ready to resort to feigned testimony to secure his freedom. Many innocent men convict themselves in precisely this way.