Even now the case would have been incomplete but for the confession of one of the parties—Syed Gool’s friend, who was known as Noor Mahomed. This man, a confederate, on arrival at Bombay, made a clean breast of the crime and was admitted as an approver; but for that the offence might never have been brought home. Syed Gool, it appeared, had come from Karachi only a little before, had put up at the musafarkhana of one Ismail Habib in Pakmodia Street, where he had presently married one Sherif Khatum, whom he met in this same “rest house,” and the whole party had taken up their residence in another house in the same street. Noor Mahomed went on to say that husband and wife soon quarrelled as to the possession of the latter’s jewels, and their differences so increased in bitterness that Syed Gool resolved to murder the woman. He effected his purpose, assisted by his friend, using a pair of long iron pincers, with which he compressed her windpipe till she died of suffocation. The rest of the crime followed a not unusual course: the packing of the corpse in a wooden box which had been made to Syed Gool’s order by a carpenter, and its removal in a bullock cart to the neighbourhood of the Elphinstone Station, where the murderers hired a man to watch it for a few pence during their temporary absence. But they had no intention of returning; indeed, they embarked at once on board the Aden steamer, and the man left in charge of the box took it home with him, where it remained till he was alarmed by the offensive smell already mentioned. Then he prudently resolved to get rid of it by removing it to the spot on which it was found.[4]
The tale of undiscovered murders can never be ended, and additions are made to it continually. In this country fresh cases crop up year after year, and it would take volumes to catalogue them all. I will mention but one or two more, merely to point the moral that the police are often at fault still, even in these latter days of enlightened research, where so much makes in favour of the law. Thus the Burton Crescent murder, in December, 1878, must always be remembered against the police. An aged widow, named Samuel, lived at a house in Burton Crescent, but she kept no servant on the premises, and took in a lodger, although she was of independent means. The lodger was a musician in a theatrical orchestra, away most of the day, returning late to supper. One evening there was no supper and no Mrs. Samuel, but on making search he found her dead body in the kitchen, lying in a pool of blood. The police summoned a doctor to view the corpse, and it was found that Mrs. Samuel had been battered to death with the fragment of a hat-rail in which many pegs still remained. The pocket of her dress had been cut off, and a pair of boots was missing, but no other property. Nothing could have happened till late in the afternoon, as three workmen, against whom there was apparently no suspicion, were in the house till then, and the maid who assisted in the household duties had left Mrs. Samuel alive and well at 4 p.m. Only one arrest was made, that of a woman, one Mary Donovan, who was frequently remanded on the application of the police, but against whom no sufficient evidence was forthcoming to warrant her committal for trial. The Burton Crescent murder has remained a mystery to this day.
So has that of Lieutenant Roper, R.E., who was murdered at Chatham on the 11th of February, 1881. This young officer, who was going through the course of military engineering, was found lying dead at the bottom of the staircase leading to his quarters in Brompton Barracks. He had been shot with a revolver, and the weapon, six-chambered, was picked up at a short distance from the body, one shot discharged, the remaining five barrels still loaded with ball cartridges. The only presumption was that the murderer’s object was plunder, personal robbery. Mr. Roper had left the mess at an earlier hour than usual, between 8 and 9 p.m., on the plea that he had letters to write home announcing his approaching arrival on short leave of absence. A brother officer accompanied him part of the way to Brompton Barracks, but left him to attend some entertainment, Roper declining to go at once, for the reason given, but promising to join him later.
The unfortunate officer was quite unconscious when found, and although he survived some forty minutes, he never recovered the power of speech, so that he could give no indication as to his assailant. A poker belonging to Mr. Roper was found by his side, and it was inferred that he had entered his room before the attack, and had seized the poker as the only instrument of self-defence within reach. Not the slightest clue was ever obtained which would help to solve this mystery; rewards were offered, but in vain, and the police had at last to confess themselves entirely baffled. Mr. Roper was an exceedingly promising young officer; he had but just completed his course of instruction with considerable credit, and he was said to have been in perfect health and spirits on the fatal evening, so that there was nothing whatever to support, and indeed everything to discredit, any theory of suicide.
IX.—A GOOD WORD FOR THE POLICE.
Taking a general view of the case as between hunted and hunters, it may be fairly considered that the ultimate advantage is with the latter. Let it be remembered that we hear more of one instance of failure on the part of the police than of ninety-nine successes. The failure is proclaimed trumpet-tongued, the successes pass almost unnoticed into the great garner of criminal reports and judicial or police statistics.
At the very least it must be said that we are bound, in common justice, to give due credit to the ceaseless activity, the continual, painstaking effort of the guardians of the public weal. Their methods are the outcome of long and patient experience, developed and improved as time passes, and they have deserved, if not always commanded, success. It may be that the ordinary detective works a little too openly—at least, in this country; that his face and, till lately, his boots were well known in the circles generally frequented by his prey. Again, there may be at times slackness in pursuit, neglect or oversight of early clues. Well-meaning but obstinate men will not keep a perfectly open mind: they may cling too long and too closely to a first theory, wresting their opinions and forcing acquired facts to fit this theory, and so travel farther and farther along the wrong road. “Shadowing” suspected persons does not always answer, and may be carried too far; more, it may be so clumsily done as to put the quarry on his guard and altogether defeat the object in view. But to lay overmuch stress on such shortcomings as these would surely savour of hypercriticism. It is more just to accept with gratitude the overwhelming balance in favour of the police, and give them the credit due to them for the results achieved.
