The Crime of the Century Part 9

STRANGE INFLUENCES AT WORK--MISS ANNIE MURPHY THINKS SHE SAW THE DOCTOR ON A STREET CAR--HIS LONG AND MYSTERIOUS RIDE WITH CONDUCTOR DWYER-- REPORTER LONG ALSO ENCOUNTERS HIM, THIS TIME IN TORONTO--THE POLICE AND PUBLIC SATISFIED BUT HIS FRIENDS STILL ANXIOUS--EFFORTS TO PROVE HIM A BRITISH SPY--A BIG REWARD OFFERED.

Less than a week had elapsed from the events narrated in the first chapter when sinister rumors commenced to gain circulation. It was whispered about that the alleged "mysterious disappearance" was in reality no mystery at all, that the physician had not been decoyed from home; that he was alive; that he had left the city of his own free will, and that the whole affair had been concocted for sensational purposes, the motive for which would be brought to light so soon as the cardinal objects had been attained. It was further hinted that the physician was inclined to be extremely erratic at times, that his love of sensationalism bordered on a mania, and that such a performance as that of May 4 was entirely in a line with his methods.

A STREET CAR "CLUE."

On the heels of these rumors came positive statements of alleged facts.

It was first claimed that Dr. Cronin was seen on a street car two hours after he had parted with Frank Scanlan outside of the Windsor Theatre Building. Miss Annie Murphy, an employe of the City Recorder's Office, was responsible for this story which was made public a few hours after the arrest and "confession" of Woodruff. A comely and talented young lady, with a reputation as an elocutionist of no mean ability, she had frequently figured on the programme with the physician at Irish demonstrations and Catholic entertainments. Consequently she knew him well, and what she had to say commanded general attention, and a large degree of confidence. It was not known at this time, however, that her father, Thomas Murphy, was a prominent member of the Clan-na-Gael, and an officer in one of the local camps to boot. Miss Murphy's statement made on May 9th, when the popular excitement was at its height, was to the effect that she had seen Dr. Cronin on a Clark Street car shortly after nine o'clock on the night of his disappearance.

"I had been paying a visit to friends on Garfield Avenue," she said, "and left at nine o'clock, taking a Garfield Avenue car. At the corner of Clark Street this was attached to a cable train. When we reached Division Street, I looked into the cable car, and I am positive that I saw Dr. Cronin sitting in it, his arms folded and his head bowed as if in deep thought. He did not look at me, nor could he have recognized me if he had, as it was dark outside, while the car in which he rode was well lighted. He had an oblong bundle of some kind resting upon his knees, over which his arms were folded. When I read in the papers on Monday morning that Dr. Cronin had disappeared, I told father that I had seen him, and we both laughed at the idea that the doctor had been murdered. When I reached the office, I told the same story."

"You are sure that the man was Dr. Cronin?"

"Just as sure as I am about my own ident.i.ty," was the reply.

CONDUCTOR DWYER ADDS A "LINK."

Equally positive was the statement of William Dwyer, the conductor that had charge of car 415, and it convinced a good many people who had been inclined to the belief that Miss Murphy had been mistaken. Two weeks later, when the body of the murdered physician had been brought to light, Dwyer suddenly became an invalid, resigned his position and went to Canada "for his health." This fact gives additional significance to the circ.u.mstantial story that he told at the time.

"My regular run," he said, "is on the State Street horse line, but I was called up to the limits barn Sat.u.r.day night to take the place of Conductor Humphrey who got suddenly sick. I was put aboard of car No.

415, one of the big, long ones. It was just 9:18 o'clock to a second when we left the barn. There was not a pa.s.senger aboard. When we reached Frederick Street a tall, good-looking man with a heavy mustache, and I think a plug hat, got on. I took particular notice of him, because he was a striking looking man."

"Where did he sit down?"

"In the middle of the car. He faced east."

"Did he have any parcels?"

"Yes. I remember that he carried a little box or case. I think it was black. It was made of highly polished wood."

"What did he do with it when he sat down?"

"Put it in his lap and leaned his arm on it."

"Did you notice how he was dressed?"

"No, not particularly, except that he was well dressed. I saw he had a kind of a round bundle in his lap, too. It was a queer color--a kind of light red or pink."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, because I noticed it particularly as I pa.s.sed through the car. My attention was first attracted to it by a kind of white stuff that stuck out of the ends. It looked like white cotton, and when I pa.s.sed through the car I brushed against it and a small particle of cotton clung to my coat."

"Do you think your solitary pa.s.senger was under the influence of liquor?"

"No, I don't. He walked straight and seemed to be sober. He was only abstracted and preoccupied. I noticed when we were pa.s.sing the Windsor Theatre that he looked through the open windows of the car at the building with more interest than he had shown in anything else."

"How was it that you noticed him then?"

"Because he leaned forward as far as he could, and I guess I hadn't much else to look at just then."

"Did he get up as if he intended to leave the car?"

"No, he didn't; he kept his seat."

"How far did he ride?"

"To Madison Street. He started to get off at Washington Street, though.

He had been more preoccupied than ever going through the tunnel, and when he got up at Washington Street he seemed kind of dazed. He asked me if we were at Madison Street, saying that he wanted to go to the Union Depot. I told him we were a block from Madison Street, and he returned to his seat. When we got to Madison I stopped the car and he jumped off.

He started toward the river at a fast gait, as if he had an important appointment to keep."

"Do you know Dr. Cronin?"

"No, sir; I think not."

"Then you do not know, of your own knowledge, that your solitary pa.s.senger was Dr. Cronin?"

"No. But now that you speak of Dr. Cronin," he said after a long interval, "I remember that I thought he was a doctor, and I got an impression somehow from his grave aspect that he had been attending to a very serious case."

"Did you notice whether anybody was with him when he stepped out at Frederick Street to board your car?"

"I didn't notice, but I don't think there was."

"Did you see an undersized man with a heavy mustache and a slouch hat?"

"No; I didn't--but hold on a minute. I did see a man on the sidewalk, standing in the shadow of the building, who I think wore a soft hat, but as I had only a fleeting glimpse at him I couldn't attempt to describe him."

These two stories, the first so clear and direct, and the other so corroborative obtained general credence except among the immediate friends of the physician. These still insisted upon their theory of foul play. Numerous contradictions in the statements made by Dwyer to different people were pointed out. An inspection of the sheet upon which he had made out his report of the trip when he turned in his receipts showed that instead of one pa.s.senger on the nine o'clock car he had carried thirty-six. The story told by Miss Murphy was directly challenged, many of the physician's friends declared that it was manufactured for ulterior motives. It was also charged that her father and Dr. Cronin were bitter enemies. This was denied at the time, and it was added that Murphy, who resided on Oak Street near by Alexander Sullivan, had never taken an active part in Irish affairs. Subsequently, during the Coroner's investigation, it was developed that at that very time he was the financial secretary of a Clan-na-Gael camp hostile in its composition to the missing man.

BOGUS "INTERVIEWS" FROM CANADA.

But still more astounding developments in this phase of the case were soon to come. There resided in Toronto, Canada, at this time, one Charles T. Long, a young man whose father was the publisher and part proprietor of an influential newspaper. Some time before this Long had been employed as a reporter on one or two Chicago morning papers, and in the performance of his duties he had met Dr. Cronin on numerous occasions. He had, moreover, for a short period been a member of a secret beneficial society with which the physician was identified, and hence could claim something more than a pa.s.sing acquaintance with him.

When therefore on the night of Friday, May 10th, the morning papers of Chicago and several other cities received dispatches--the majority over the ex-reporter's own signature--to the effect that the physician was alive and in that city, and had actually been spoken to, it was taken for granted that the major portion of the mystery had been solved. No mere _resume_ could do justice to what might well be termed the devilish ingenuity with which these dispatches were framed, and it is necessary to quote them at length. The one received by the Chicago _Herald_, and which was a fair type of all, ran in this wise:

Dr. P. H. Cronin is in Canada. He was seen, recognized and spoken to here to-day by a former Chicagoan, and in return told of his troubles, bitterly denouncing a number of Garden City people, Alexander Sullivan particularly. The missing and supposed-to-be-murdered physician seemed to be slightly deranged.

C. T. Long, who for three years was intimately acquainted with Dr.

Cronin in Chicago, was walking down Yonge street shortly after 11 o'clock this morning, and when opposite the Arcade came face to face with the missing Irish nationalist. He was accompanied by a man of shorter stature. "h.e.l.lo, Doc; what are you doing here?" was Long's greeting. To this the doctor answered "h.e.l.lo," and then pausing and drawing himself up in an injured manner, continued: "You have me at a disadvantage, sir. What do you want?"

"Why, Cronin, is it possible that you don't remember me?"

"I do not know you, sir, and shall have you handed over to the police in case you bother me further."

Having delivered himself of this the doctor turned the corner of the Arcade and quickly followed the retreating footsteps of his friend, who turned down Victoria street, and together they were soon lost in the crowd. Long informed the _Herald_ correspondent that for three years he had been intimately acquainted with Cronin while living in Chicago--in fact, employed him as his family physician and belonged to several organizations with him. He was completely dumbfounded, first at sight of him and then at his mode of treatment. Cronin was dressed in a black coat and vest, light colored pants, black silk hat, and carried a small black hand-bag in one hand and a light spring overcoat thrown over his arm. The person with him appeared to be twenty-seven or thirty years of age, and while Long cannot place him, his face seemed quite familiar. At first sight he was taken for Jack Lynch, bailiff in Judge Clifford's court, and very strongly resembled him, but as far as Long knew Lynch was unknown to Cronin. Cronin's companion was dressed in a dark suit of clothes and slouch hat. He carried nothing but a newspaper, which was afterward picked up on Victoria street and proved to be a Chicago evening newspaper of the 7th inst.

Long at once made for the Union Station in the hope that he might there run across the pair, but after waiting some thirty minutes concluded to notify the police and have them keep a sharp lookout for Cronin. While on the way to the Court street Station, police headquarters, and at the corner of King and Toronto streets, Long again caught sight of the pair walking rapidly down Toronto street.

Slipping into a doorway at the receiver general's office he waited until they had pa.s.sed, and then noticed that Cronin had adjusted a pair of goggles, but otherwise was attired precisely the same as on Yonge street. Stepping up to the doctor the point-blank question was put: "Cronin, what are you doing in Toronto when your friends in Chicago are hunting the earth for you?"