Knots Untied; Or, Ways and By-ways in the Hidden Life of American Detectives

by George S. McWatters

"No, I can't go now; don't think I can get there to-day. I've too much to do; but what's the trouble?"

"O, dear, I can't tell you that. I only, know that Mr. ——, the president, is greatly excited, and he told me to be sure to bring you now; to hunt after you if you were not here, and bring you at any rate."

"Well, if it is so urgent a matter, I must run down there for a minute—say that I'll be there in a half hour, if possible; if not, in an hour, say. I've documents here that must be finished and sent off before I stir," said I; and an hour or so brought me to the bank, between four and five o'clock of the afternoon. It was closed, of course, for banking purposes, but the watching janitor hardly waited for ordinary ceremony before I was half-dragged into the entrance-way. The president at once took me to the private or directors' room, and told me that a half hour before sending for me they had missed a bag containing ten thousand dollars in gold, that every search had been made for it, and that one of the clerks thought he recollected something having been said by somebody that day about that bag. He even thought somebody had taken it up or out in his presence, but his impression was like a dim recollection of things passed twenty years ago, and this was all the president could say about it. The making up of the books, balancing accounts, etc., had kept the clerks after banking hours, as usual, and he had sent for me as soon as possible, thinking that I might devise some theory to account for the lost gold, and that promptness was the best course.

I asked if there had been much business done there that day, and I found that they had been unusually occupied. I learned the location of the bag in the big safe, and saw that no thief could have come slyly in and got to the safe without being detected, so numerous were the clerks, some of whom were constantly behind the desks, back of which the thief would have to go. There was no clerk whom the president dare suspect. They were all well tried young men, in whom every confidence had heretofore been reposed, and who had ever proved worthy of the trust placed in them. Besides, none of them, except at noon, when they had gone out to lunch, not singly, but two together at least, had been out of the bank since morning, and it was sure that the bag was in the safe that morning. In fact, it had then been brought there from the vault, with other moneys; so that to suspect any one, rendered it necessary to suspect another in concert with him. Moreover, if one had been in concert with a thief, who had come in to receive the bag, he could hardly have taken the bag out without some one's noticing him.

With these reflections and my examinations, I candidly told the president that it would cost too much to work up the case on any theory which I could conceive of; that his only hope was in waiting for something to be disclosed by accident, perhaps; but that he probably would never hear of the money, or know any more about the matter than he now knew, unless this suspicion of mine should happen to be correct (but how could we be sure of that?), namely, that the abstraction of this gold was the work of some bold thief, who, having studied the place, and giving himself a clerkly style, had suddenly dropped in when the bank was full of customers and the clerks much occupied, and passed himself off for one of them for a few seconds, taken the bag, and walked off with it as coolly as he came in.

But the president, and I too, after surveying matters again, conceived that an impossibility—"almost"—still there was the barest possibility that such might have been the fact. But if it were, how get a clew to the thief? How ever identify one dollar, or rather a single one of the ten dollar pieces? (for it was all in ten dollar pieces, in rolls: a heavy bag to snatch and carry away unperceived). There was a serious difficulty in that.

Of course I made the minutest inquiry as to the style of the bag, and was shown three or four which were said to be exactly like it, and took down upon my diary a copy of the special marks upon these. But I kept thinking all the while that it was folly to do this; and I dismissed reasoning upon the subject, and thought I might as well "trust luck" as to refuse to, especially as the president, in his urgency, said if I would "scour the city thoroughly," he would pay me so much a day for my time, for a given number of days, and that if I found any of the money I might have half of it besides. I told him his offer was hardly acceptable professionally; that I had my certain charges for my work by the day, dependent in amount a little upon the nature of the case, and that that would satisfy me; and that although I had about as much confidence in finding out the thief, or discovering the money, as I would have in labelling a plank "Philadelphia," and throwing it into the bay at ebb tide, with the expectation it would float directly to the "City of Brotherly Love," and land itself duly; yet I would try.

"Well, that's all I can ask. 'Try' that's the word," said the president; "and allow me to say that I know that means something with you, and I cannot say why I feel a confidence that you will succeed, for everything seems to be against us. Yet I do feel that success in part, at least, will be yours. We shall hear where that money has gone to, even if we cannot secure a dollar of it. But there must nothing be said outside of the bank. I cautioned the clerks before you came; for in my whole life I have never been more ashamed of anything than of this loss, whether it is the theft of one person, clerk, or what not, or another: and if it should be the fact that this is only one of those bold robberies which have sometimes taken place, I should feel more chagrined than ever."

So I was to keep the matter a profound secret, at any rate; which is the reason why I may not at least introduce a name or two, which I should, for some reasons, be pleased to make public.

It is not a wise thing for a bank to make known to the public a loss of the kind. It looks like negligence in the conduct of its affairs. The public, too, would be disposed to think, even when the truth is told, that the statement is intended to cover the fact of a greater loss, or that a defalcation for example, instead of a robbery, has taken place. There is nothing like an esprit de corps among banks. Each acts for itself,—mercilessly, as regards every other bank,—unless, perhaps, when some question of a proposed general tax, which may be thought too high, is mooted; and each must look out for its reputation for soundness with scrupulous care.