A Master Hand: The Story of a Crime

by Richard Dallas

With this expectation I could not so readily agree, and told him so. I explained to him that while the disappearance of the money I knew to have been on the table seemed to bear out his view, the absence of the ulster showed something in the case that would have to be explained.

"Well, Dallas," he said, "I confess I don't see why the ulster should not have been stolen as well as the money, and I doubt if we find the case in any way unusual, but perhaps you are right. Suppose you take charge of it for the office and follow it up!"

I could see he thought my connection with the matter, and friendship with White, was influencing my judgment, but as I was mainly anxious to obtain the commission he had voluntarily given me, I only replied that very likely it would prove so, and withdrew to my own office. Here leaving other matters neglected, I sat down, and thought the case over. Could it be that the District Attorney was right and that I was trying to make a mystery out of a commonplace crime; certainly his prompt suggestion that the ulster had also been stolen along with the money was entirely likely and yet I could not satisfy myself that it was correct.

As I look back now I realize that it was the intuition of youth rather than the keen reasoning of an experienced lawyer that directed my judgment at that stage. The facts as they were apparent at the time furnished no sufficient ground for my conclusion and I was forced to admit to myself that I must reserve my judgment, at least from public expression, till I had more light on the case.

My interest and impatience, however, would not allow me to await in idleness the Coroner's hearing the next day, and I determined, therefore, to go at once to Inspector Dalton's office, and learn from that department all that was known. On entering the Inspector's office, I found him in consultation with Detective Miles.

I knew both men well, having worked with them before, and recognized in them conscientious officers of experience. The Inspector was a man of about sixty and somewhat pompous and dictatorial with the consciousness of power, which he owed, nevertheless, mainly to "political pull." Miles, on the contrary, was a much younger man, and had attained to his position through good work. He was naturally keen and reticent, and well fitted for his vocation, and he possessed besides a better education than the average man of his calling.

The Inspector, however, was little more than a machine, without much originality, and he worked on the lines dictated by experience and with the means and methods tried and available. In the latter respect our police and detective departments are well equipped; also, they are well disciplined, and systematized; but what both departments should have and rarely possess, are men of exceptional ability, training, and broad education at their heads to plan and direct the work of their subordinates.

The consultation in which they were engaged was interrupted upon my entrance and they waited for what I might have to say.

In response to my request for any additional information they might have, Miles reported fully on his investigations of the morning and there were some newly disclosed facts of which I had not before been aware.

I had been told, as I have said, that White had gone out after we had left him, but it now developed from the night-officer's story that White had left the house a little after one o'clock wearing the plaid ulster and cap and had gone rapidly west on the north side of the street. He had returned the salute of the officer who was on the opposite side of the street. What further direction White took the officer could not say, as he had not watched him. He did not see White return, but about half an hour later when he was again approaching the house on his rounds he had observed a man peering in at one of White's windows, where the shade was slightly up, who, on finding himself observed, had walked away. The officer's suspicions were aroused, however, and he had returned to the scene again in a few minutes, and had then seen what appeared to be the same man come out of the vestibule of White's house and hurry west, turning up Sixth Avenue.