After Schrieber delivered his car to the pier to be taken aboard the liner, agents made arrangements to examine the vehicle, a 1949 Pontiac. The examination began at approximately 4 P.M. They searched the car for ninety minutes without finding any contraband.

At last one of the agents said, “Why don’t we weigh the car and check its weight against the Blue Book weight that is listed by the manufacturer.”

With the cooperation of Customs inspectors and Cunard Line officials, the car was removed from Pier 90 to the scale house at Pier 84. The automobile Blue Book listed the Pontiac as weighing 3375 pounds. But when it was put on the scales, it registered 3840 pounds. There was a discrepancy between the listed weight and the actual weight of 465 pounds. It was obvious that something was concealed somewhere on the vehicle and that the hiding place had not been discovered.

The car was then moved back to Pier 90 and driven to a service station at the corner of 51st Street and Eleventh Avenue. It was run over a grease pit in order that the searchers could take a better look at the underside. One of the searchers began tapping the gas tank of the Pontiac and then tapping gas tanks on other automobiles in the station to compare the sound. He called to an agent, “There’s something wrong with this gas tank. It doesn’t sound like these other gas tanks when I tap on it.”

With the help of service station personnel, the searchers removed the gas tank. As soon as it was loosened from its fastenings, they knew that they had discovered hidden contraband: the gas tank was so heavy that it took the combined efforts of four men to lift it out of the grease pit. It was specially built of heavy steel.

Inside the gas tank, the searchers found a cleverly concealed compartment which contained thirty-three individually wrapped packages of gold bullion, valued at $110,000.

Apparently Schrieber became suspicious that he was suspect or he was tipped that the gold hoard had been discovered. At any rate, he did not show up as a passenger before the Cunard liner sailed. He was reported to have fled from the United States on a phony passport. After that, he was reported variously in Canada, in South America, and in Europe.

* * * * *

Saul Chabot of New York City was also one of the chiselers. Chabot was a slender, middle-aged man with graying sandy hair and bushy eyebrows who had built up a large-scale business in used rags. But the profits from his rag business weren’t enough for Chabot—and he decided to expand his operations into gold smuggling.

Chabot might well have smuggled a fortune in gold from the country had it not been for the alertness of Matthew Jake Berckman of Jersey City, New Jersey. Berckman had joined the Cunard Line’s police force in 1937 and he had remained on this job until 1947, when he was employed as a pier checker, checking automobiles to be shipped abroad.