District inspectors of police were then called upon to find a detective who knew Jess, and an Italian plain-clothes man, Antony Grieco, who had grown up in that part of New York where Jess had kept a café, and who knew the latter well, was detailed with another detective to look him up and keep him under surveillance. They found that Jess, whose last name was Albrazzo, had headquarters in a tough resort in Thompson street, kept by an Italian named James Pasqualle, better known as “Jimmie the Push.” From that time Jess was kept “on tap,” to await further developments.
Then the Commissioner undertook to find out more about the character called “Gene.” Working in New York, as waiters and bartenders, were many members of a criminal band known as the “Forty Thieves of Boston.” The Commissioner called in all of them that he could find, and sounded each for information about this “Gene.” After the time of day had been passed, the talk would turn on members of the band and criminals in general, and after curiosity had been excited, “Gene” would be referred to casually. If the party interviewed said he knew “Gene,” the Commissioner would probably be sceptical, ask his last name, press for details of appearance and habits, and then pass to some other subject.
It was found that “Gene’s” last name was Splaine, that he had served a term in prison in Boston as a boy, and that, by his general description, he must be the third fugitive accompanying Kinsman and Annie. When Detective Watson got better descriptions of the third man at Albany, and comparisons were made with sources of information in New York, it became practically certain that Gene Splaine was with Kinsman.
Annie Shows at “Plant 21”
It was on this day, too (Tuesday, February 20), that “Swede Annie” suddenly stepped into police view, wearing a new hat. She turned up quietly at the house where Myrtle Horn had moved with her trunk, and began living in the front basement room. Matron Goodwin and “Plant 21” immediately reported her presence, and from that time the shadow men across the street had something to do besides driving nails. For whenever Annie or Myrtle went out of the house they were followed.
Shadowing is a highly interesting kind of police work, at which some men have exceptional ability.
The general conception is that of a detective following closely behind the suspected person, with his eyes glued to him, and cautiously crouching behind lamp-posts and trees when the victim turns suddenly. But that is far from the real thing. The work is done in ways altogether different. Shadow men operate in pairs, as a rule, and keep track of their party from vantage points not likely to be suspected. They dress according to the character of the case, always in quiet clothes, changed daily, and with absolutely no colors that will attract attention or lead to recognition through the memory. They know how to follow when the person under surveillance rides in cabs, cars or trains, to cover the different exits from a building into which he or she may have gone, and to loiter several hours around a given neighborhood, if need be, without attracting the attention of honest citizens.
This work is done by shifts. The operators relieve each other almost as regularly as office employees, no matter how far the trail may have taken them. They are in constant touch with headquarters for the purpose of making reports and receiving instructions.
In this branch of detective work, as in many others, the chief requisite is resourcefulness. The detective of fact wears little disguise apart from clothes that fit the surroundings he moves in. But he has an instant knack at accounting for himself as a normal character who has happened quite naturally into the scene. Ready wits do the trick—not false whiskers. Thus it came about that whenever Annie and Myrtle were hungry, and sat down in a restaurant, what they said was noted by a couple of fellows at another table, who quickly made a party of the chance patrons they found there, discussing wages or the suffragettes. Or if Annie used the telephone in a drug store, a polite young man turning over the directory said to her, “Go ahead, lady—I’m in no hurry,” and listened.
At the same time, Matron Goodwin was reporting conversation from inside the house. It appeared that Kinsman had sent Annie back to the city after buying her a new hat and giving her $125. He promised to write soon, but did not tell her where he was going. Toward the end of the week, as no letter arrived, Annie began worrying, and was talkative. She feared that Eddie no longer loved her. She reproached herself for letting him go without taking her along, and spoke of setting out to find him.