r Six.
THE CAUCASIAN
tThumUjv February 27. 1913.
TRUTH ABOUT THE CASE
The Experiences of M. F. Goron, Ex-Chief
, of the Paris Detective Police
Edited by Albert Key zer
HUNTING THE GANG
(Copyright hy J
N March. 3rd. 1892. at 4
o'clock In the afternoon,
three mea entered the
wineshop in the Rue Saint
Denis, kept hy M. Desvoia,
at the corner of the Rue
de la Grande Truanderie.
They ordered a bottle of
wine, and went upstairs for a
game of billiards. Of the two
doors in the billiard-room, one
opened Into the bedroom, whilst the
other led to the entrance in the Rue
de la Grande Truanderie. After half
an hour Mme. Desvoia, not hearing
the noise of the billiard balls, went
upstairs, and, to her surprise, saw the
door of the bedroom ajar. At that mo
ment one of the men came forward,
and Mme. Desvols, convinced, they
were burglars, called for help. At her
shrieks the three fellows rushed out,
knocked her over, and ran away. Two
oi them escaped unseen, by the back
door, but the third found himself in
the Rue de la Grande Truanderie
followed by a crowd attracted by the
woman's cries. On the point of being
overtaken, the man drew a revolver,
fired at a youth who had seized his
coat tails, and shot him down. The
mad chaso continued towards the Rue
Pierre-Lescot, where he fired again,
killing a cabinet-maker called Mar
tinoL. M. Botteller, an employe, was
his third victim; for the poor man,
with a bullet in the groin, died on bis
way to the hospital. The murderer
sped along, brandishing his weapon,
when a M. Guyomard caught him
pluckily by the throat and felled him
to the ground. The police had the
greatest trouble to prevent him from
being lynched. With his clothes torn
to shreds, and bleeding from several
wounds, he was first conveyed to the
police-station in the Rue des Prou
vaires, and afterwards brought before
"me.
He was a short, thick-set, determined-looking
man with a strongly
developed jaw, and a curious hard
expression in the eyes the type of
the brute. He gave hl3 name as
Crampon; and we discovered that un
der the name of Bonfantlnl he had al
ready undergone several long terms of
Imprisonment.
When I asked him for the names of
his accomplices he looked at me with
an ugly grin.
'"What for? To obtain favors? No,
thank you. I am not going to harm
them. Besides, I am sick of every
thing. I want to be 'butte. "
"Are you sorry you killed these poor
men?"
"Sorry? Not I. Or, rather, I am
sorry; for I had still two shots In my
revolver; and, but for that meddling
Idiot, you would not see me here to
day." I did not prolong this conversation,
and waited till the next day, when I
had him once more brought before me,
an3l again questioned him about his
accomplices.
'Save yourself the trouble," he said
with a sneer, "you'll get nothing out
of me. I want to be butte.' "
Crampon had a sweetheart, a cer
tain. Maria Thouvenin, then lying ill
at the Charlte hospital. I searched
her room, and found a uniform of
private in the Fourth Infantry, which
I took away with me.
The excitement in Paris, when that
horrible murder became known, was
Intense and the press clamored for
the arrest of the two men who accom
panied Crampon on that fatal after
noon. Unfortunately, Mme. Desvols
was unable to give me their descrip
tion, and none of my men, although
well acquainted with the criminals
and their haunts, could supply; any
clue.
I sent for Inspector Larose an ex
perienced official and described to
him a fellow I had seen some months
ago with Crampon enter a bar.
Larose thought a long time and then
said:
"Well, sir, I think I know the man,
but I doubt whether he belongs to the
Crampon gang."
"He may or he may not. I noticed
his hair; it was cut short and looked
as if he had just left the regiment.
Larose looked up.
"I begin to see it now, sir; it would
be funny if he turned out to be our
man. His name is Georges Plessia,
and he is employed in a wineshop in
the Rue du Bac."
"All right; let us go there at once."
Twenty minutes later we alighted
and enquired after Plessls.
"He will be done in a minute," said
the proprietor of the establishment;
"he is bringing down his trunk."
"His trunk?" I asked. "Is he going
away?"
"Yes, sir. He had a telegram, Jast
night, from his old aunt, who Is very
111."
Whilst he spoke, Plessls came down
the stairs with a big box on his shoul
der, and nearly dropped it when he
saw us. We put him in the cab, and
took him, box and all, to the prefec
ture, where he denied ever having
seen Crampon.
"Why were you so anxious to leave
Paris?" I said.
"I had a telegram "
"Yes, I know. But I want to ask
Slang term for "guillotined.'
ff W
11 ni -
B. Uppiiicott Co.)
you why you did not do your military
service? You are a defaulter."
"I defaulter!" he cried. "I have
served my time; and In a fine regi
ment, too."
"Where?"
"In the Fourth Infantry."
"What has become of your uni
form?" "My uniform? My uniform? I
I must have lost It."
"I think I have found It. Undo that
parcel in the corner, and put on the
coat and trousers."
lie did so, and they fitted him like
a glove.
"You left them with Maria Thou
venln," I said, "and you had better
make a clean breast of It"
He reflected a moment, and then
confessed having been with Crampon
on the day of the murder; but, like
Crampon, he positively refused to give
the name of the other man.
'Til tell you all about myself. M.
Goron, but I'll never round on my pal;
no, never. And I'll bet you'll never
catch him either."
j "We will see about that," I replied.
The following morning I sent again
for Inspector Larose.
"Larose," I began, "Plessis two
years ago broke his leg, and was
nursed at Mangin's house by that
man's sister. They are great pals?"
"Yes, sir. And he even wanted to
marry the girl. v
'"Right. Then arrest Mangin for be
ing Implicated in this affair and bring
him here at once."
"I beg your pardon, sir, but I am cer
tain Mangin had nothing to do with
this business."
"So am I; and that is why I want
you to bring him to me."
No doubt it seems horrible that I
should arrest a man I knew to be In
nocent. But I saw no other way of
laying my hands on a desperate char
acter, who, at any moment, might
have slipped through my fingers. And,
before tco much sympathy is wasted
on Mangin, it should be remembered
that this gentleman had spent about a
third of his life In prison. He and
Plessis belonged to the worst class of
criminals. But I had had frequent op
1 portunltles of noticing that one chord,
that of friendship, would vibrate in
men of even that stamp; and It was
on that I based the experiment I was
about to make.
Mangin had been so often In cus
tody that he did not look upset when
he was marched into my office. And
as he knew he was innocent of the
crime Imputed to him, he could afford
to be sarcastic.
"What's the use," he said, "of haul
Ing me in, when the fish who did the
mischief Is still swimming about? I
was not In this affair."
"That remains to be seen."
"I was not in this affair," he re
peated violently.
"Hold your tongue. You and Plessls
were both in it"
After I had worked him to a high
and then witnessed a curlou3 scene,
the one on which I had reckoned.
When Plessis was ushered In, and
saw Mangin, he seemed dumbfounded,
but he greeted him heartily with a:
"Bon jour, mon vieux!"
The other glared at him.
"You are a nice kind of friend," he
hissed, "to denounce a pal you know
to be Innocent. You scoundrel I "
1 swear," shrieked Plessis, "I never
mentioned your name! Ask M. Goron
mf !,,
ask him
"He speaks the truth," I Interposed;
"he refused to give me the name of
the third man who went with Cram
pon that afternoon to the Rue Saint
Denis; but, as I feel sure you, Mangin,
are that man, I had you arrested."
Mangin growled and turned on
Plessls.
"Am I to understand that in order
to screen a pal of yours who took part
In this business you actually let me,
your best friend, suffer?"
If at that moment a member of the
fYench academy, whose duty it is to
expurge every strange word from our
language, had entered my room he
would have been horrified. For I and
these two men were talking "the
green tongue" as it is called here
the slang in which Paris criminals feel
bo much more at home than in honest
FYench. To the fact of my being able
to converse in that queer idiom I at
tribute, in some measure, the influ
ence I always have had over members
Df that class.
"Two years ago," continued Man
gin, "when you had come to grief, and
the police "
"Shut up, you fool," snouted the an
gry Plessis.
"I shan't shut up, you white-livered
sneak. You want to leave me In qu'od,
when you know I had no hand in this?
Look here, M. Goron, as he refuses to
speak, I will. And you shall know
something about this "
"Stop your talk," bawled Plessls,
wiping the perspiration from his fore
head? "I glue In; it's no use fighting
any longer. M. Goron, my friend Is
innocent; he was never near the place
on that day. Let him go, and 111 tell
you who It is you are after."
He paced the room in uncontrolled
agitation, talking rapidly as If to get
the load off his mind.
It is Joseph Simetiere, And bo
3on't ask me anything eL- for I ttal!
not answer.
He then looked expectantly at Man
gin, and the tiro shook hands. I rang
the belL
"This man." I raid, pointing to
Mangin, "is to be released."
And he walked away, proud at hav
ing only been three hoars la custody,
a thing which, I am sore, had never
happened to him before.
Joseph Simetiere waa a dangerous
bandit. No time had to be lost, and
that same night I went in search of
bim, accompanied by two of my men.
I knew Simetiere was a frequenter
of a low dancing place in the Rue
Montagne-Salute-Genevieve, where the
worst characters congregated. At an
early hour I ent there with my com
panions, whom I left a little distance
eff, and walked straight into a small
room, from which, through a window
closed by a curtain, everything could
be seen that went cn In the halL
This closet bore the curious name of
"the Grand Duke's observatory," for
it was from there that two of the
Russian grand dukes had once waich-
ed the entertainment
"Do you expect Joseph Simetiere to-
' night?" I asked the proprietor, who
had every reason to assist the police.
; "Yes, he comes here constantly.
' But his pals are always with him, and
in your stead I would "
"Thank you. I do not want your ad
vice. Stay here, and tell me when he
enters."
; After an hour he called out:
, ' Here he is!"
Simetiere, a sinister-looking scoun
drel, with three men and a woman, all
desperate characters, sat down, or
dered drinks, and started a conversa
tion, which, above the squeak of fid
dies and the thumping of feet, I could
not hear. It was fortunate I had tak
en the precaution of locking the door,
for the woman crossed the hall, and
I do not known for what reason
tried to come in. When I saw the fel
low rise, I stole out, and Joined my
companions, whom I conducted to a
dark doorway by which Simetiere had
to pass.
"It is no good making a selection,"
I whispered to my men, "we must take
our chance."
i A few minutes after midnight we
saw Simetiere come down the street.
One of his friends walked by his side;
the others were a few yards behind.
The instant the two were level with
us we rushed at them and before they
could utter a cry they were bound,
thrown Into a cab, and taken off.
The other man we had arrested was
Thevenin, an old offender, and this, as
it turned out, proved a lucky haul, for
the next morning, when Simetiere was
brought before me, he scowled an
grily, and said:
i 1 am sure It is that coward The
venin who has rounded on me; and I'll
be even with him. Yes, I was in the
, affair of the Rue Saint-Denis; but
I Thevenin, that ugly rat, was the third
t man."
This was at variance with, what
Plessls had told me. But instead Of
doubting Simetlere's statement I
guessed that Plessls had only told me
, half the truth and that there was a
fourth. My supposition proved cor
rect, for, having confronted Crampon
with the other three, it turned out
that while Crampon with Simetiere
and Thevenin had gone to the billiard
room in the wine-shop, Plessis had
kept watch outside, which accounted
for the fact that no one had seen him.
The public were delighted when it
was announced that the men in con
nection with the Rue Saint-Denis
crime were In custody; but I was not
satisfied. Crampon was the head of a
gang who had been, or were still, com
mitting depredations, and I could not
rest until that whole pack had been
routed. And I may remark here that
the post of chief of the Paris detective
police is not a bed of roses. He cer
tainly disposes of men in whose cour-
a era TrtA ran nlnrA reliance but when
! a daneeroua expedition on a big scale
ig pianned, the chief has to place him-
I ........
self at their head and risk his life
like they do.
I had also to overcome a serious
difficulty, that of laying my hand on
the whole lot in one swoop; for I
knew full well that if I caught only
two or three the rest would disap
pear, and I should have to start a
fresh hunt. I, therefore, sent for
Latrllle, an active young officer, who
possessed the talent of disguising him
self in such a marvelous manner that
I often failed to recognize him when
I met him in one of the passages of
the prefecture. I instructed him to
watch the gang, and keep me informed
of their movements. Their favorite
meeting-place was a low tavern in the
Rue Aubry-le-Boucher.
A few days later, Latrllle told me
that the whole gang were to meet that
evening, whereupon I made all my
arrangements.
One by one, so as not to awaken
any suspicion, we met in a passage
close by that tavern, whence, unseen,
we could watch the neighborhood. The
night was dark, and the street bore an
indescribably gloomy look. But, in
stead of the silence that would befit
such a place, the air was rent with
sounds of scuffles and brawls. Oc
casionally shrieks would he heard,
shrieks that would not affect anybody
about there. Little they cared wheth
er it was an ordinary uarrel or mur
der; whatever it might be, it was
common enough in the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher.
A vfllaiioui-lo o ting man
grabbed a woman by the throat, and,
with curses, demanded something that
she kept hidden beneath her cloak.
But, quick as lightning, she whipped
out a knife, whereupon the fellow
slunk off, and she continued her way
as if nothing had occurred:
At a quarter past one a shabby-looking
individual, with a dirty rag over
And then the scramble bega.B
his ieit eye, passed our hiding-place,
and, turning sharply arou-d, whim
pered: "Come, quick; now Is the time!"
It was Latrille.
I placed myself at the head of my
men. aDd in less than a minute we
were in the den, a narrow room, with
a small bar covered with zinc, tables
and chairs along the wall. Half a
dozen ruffians were sitting there, lis
tening attentively to one of their
party, who was emphasizing his words
with a bottle he held in his hand.
And then the scramble began. Three
were overpowered before they could
make use of their weapons; but the
others fought like savages. One, with
a knife between his teeth, had barri
caded himself behind a table, and fired
revolver shots at us; while the other
two, armed with huge knives, threw
themselves upon those nearest to
them. Brunet received an ugly gash
in the thigh, and poor Larose was shot
in the leg. Suddenly one of my men
shouted:
"Look out, sir."
I turned quickly, and saw a fellow,
who had been hiding underneath a
table, pointing a pistol at me. But the
arm that held It was caught, wrenched
backward, and, with a howl, he fell on
the floor. In less than five minutes
everything was over, and my prison
ers, carefully handcuffed, were con
veyed to the prefecture.
Then came the day of reckoning.
Crampon and his accomplices were
committed for trial. Of the eight who
were arraigned, seven were sent to
penal servitude; but Crampon, the
murderer, was sentenced to death.
The latter, who had to'ld me twice that
he wanted to be, as he called it,
"butte," had hoped that his sentence
would be commuted to transportation
for life; but on the sixteenth of De
cember, in the afternoon, I was of
ficially informed that his execution
would take place the following day.
At five o'clock the next morning,
Deibler, the executioner, arrived on
the Place de la Rouquetie to build up
the guillotine; and punctually at seven
I followed M. Beauquesne, the govern
or of the Roquette prison, into Cram
pon's cell. The examining magistrate,
the police commissary of the Roquette
district two other officials, and three
warders accompanied us. When we
entered, Crampcn, who was sitting on
his bed, turned livid.
"Crampon," said M. Beauquesne,
"the moment of expiation has arrived."
The condemned man tried to speak,
but we heard nothing but. a rattling
sound. The warders helped him to
dress, and we left him alone with the
priest, the Abbe Valladcn. He then
was conducted to the "Salle du Griff e,"
a dismal room with a stone floor, and,
in the center, a small stool on which
the culprit sits to submit to the "toil
ette," which consists in cutting his
hair and shirt around the shoulders,
and pinioning him. When Crampon
felt the cold steel of the scissors on
his neck, he shuddered, and uttered
a faint cry.
A few minutes later the heavy doors
of the prison were thrown open, and
the sad procession appeared. First
came Deibler, and behind him Cram
pon, supported by two of the execu
tioner's assistants. Thus far he had
shown a certain amount of courage.
When, hewever, he caught sight of the
horrible machine, he seemed para
lysed. Deiblers men had to carry
him; and when, a few Eeconds later,
the knife dropped, I was almost cer
tain that It had fallen on a lifeless
body
GOOD-BYE TO
AN OLD PIANO
"I've been thinking the matter over,"
said the tall commuter, "and I've
about come to the conclusion that the
younger generation of the present
day is thoroughly devoid of senti
ment "I wish my wife could hear you,"
dissented the commuter's neighbor.
"Within the comparatively short
space of eight months, no less than
five trembling ladies have fluttered
forth Into the world, via our back
kitchen step. You mightn't think it
from just a casual survey of our mod
est establishment, but, sir, we have
harbored not only sentiment of the
native-born variety, but have encoun
tered the imported sort as well. Did
you ever chance to overhear a Polish
lover telling his heart's delight what
he thought of her?"
"Could anyone live In this particu
lar suburb and not hear it?" asked
the tall commuter sadly; "but that-Is
not the kind of sentiment to which I
refer. What I have In mind is the
sentiment that attaches to things or
places with which one has been asso
ciated for a lorg time."
"Well," said the seatmatet. "my ex
perience is this. I find that when I
have been associated with 'things' a
long time, they wear out, and in nine
cases out cf ten the only sentiment I
can scare up is intense annoyance.
Take my typewriter machine as a
case in point. The 'sentiments' that I
harbor for that hoary piece of mech
anism would melt the type, should I
endeavor to reduce them to print."
"My wife and I went over to viRit
her mother last night," said the tall
commuter, ignoring, after a hipy
fashion all his own, his companion's
remarks about hi? typewriter. 'ard
when we got thre we rr.w as neat
a h't cf fortieth century callousness
I evr laid my eyes on. All the
youths cf t'.ie nelghbornood were
gathered in the family sitting room,
around one of those 'horseless pianos'
that my in-laws have Just acquired.
As the poets say, 'Joy reigned su
preme. They were waltzing and two
stepping, and singing and chorusing,
ard committing more offenses against
the laws cf harmony by their failure s
to keep on the key than I can bear
to remember."
"It's news to me that you are a
h!gh-brow where mutlc Is concerned,"
said the skeptical listener.
"I have the privilege of knowing
what I like, havent I?" Inquired the
upholder cf sentiment loftily; "but
as a matter of fact, I did net start
this conversation for the purpose of
revealing the capacity of my younger
In-laws to commit musical murder."
Ton make the same mistake every
day, don't you?" asked the fellow
traveler, innocently. "You always call
your monologues 'conversations. " The
tall commuter grinned. "What I want
to show up Is their Inhuman Indlffer
t ence to the faithful old piano that has
I withstood their combined poundings.
! There it stood in a corner of the
! piazza, where they had obligingly
i rolled it so as to facilitate the work
of getting rid of it when the firm
I from which they had bought the new
I piano should send for the worn-out
old giant the next day."
"Well, you kiiow, they do worse to
square pianos than stand them out on
nice dry porches nowadays." an-
Rouncod the unermpathrtlc Auditor.
"Why, I read not long ago about a
manufacturer who burned up five hun
dred of them out in his back lots. It
was bad for the piano, but good for
business, you know."
"I'm not one to block the wheel of
progress, you know that" said the
tall commuter, "but I would hare
liked it if even one of the youngsters
had romemberej the good times that
old piano had given him or her. it he
had thought even once f the chil
dren's parties, when my wife, who is
the b!g sifter of the family, used to
play all sorts of lively little Jig tunes
for them, when they danced the 'Vlr
ginla Reel and 'Going to Jerusalem.
They used to have family tinging of
an evening. Why. one of the things
that helped me fall In love with my
wife was the picture she used to
make as she sat and played for her
herd of little sisters and brothers ai
they sang their Sunday evening
hymns."
"Did they sing any better than yon
say they do now?" breathed the lis
tener, guardedly.
As usual, the tall commuter. Ignored
him. "My wife." he went on. "felt
just as I did about It and when we
were going home we shut the door on
that crowd of vandals and went
around to the side of the plstza to
take a good bye look at the old piano.
"I thought your eyes looked a trifle
red this morning." said the unfeeling
confidant.
"If I didn't know you to be a thou
sand per cent better than you sound,
rd rather choose another teat for my
dally trip." announced the tall com
muter. "Well, we went around to say
good-bye to the eld piano, and my
wife told me the first flowers I ever
sent her were lying on th piano
when she came in from school yon
know, she used to teach. They were
Hlies-of-the-valley, and It was deep
winter. I don't remember having
Iur.chf-on downtown for a month aft
rr buying them." .
"For a sentimentalist, your memory
of the flowers teems material
enough."
"Then. I had forgotten this, but my
wife says tihe bad Just stopped play
ing when I asked her to marry me."
"An uncontrollable burst of grati
tude on your part I dare say," chuck
led the Philistine.
"Say," anon u need the tall commut
er, Tm rolng to finish these resiarks
abotxt my In laws old piano, wl ether
you like It or not. We, wen, we fin
ished our adieus, and started home,
when my wife ran back. She said she
had forgotten something. Tout, do yon
know, I bet a dollar she ran back to
kiss that old piano good-bye."
"Well, well." mused the eeatmate,
"It teems like a terrible waste of a
good material, when a nice little lady
like your wife lavishes caresses on
ao mahogany case. But It is a good
trait to stick to old friends, even in
animate ones. I've no doubt my wife
would do the tame."
"Sure she would." agreed the tall
commuter. "That new conductor with
the megaphone voice is gettinf ready
to shout Woods ide, change for Penn
sylvania station"
A dog can attract attention br
' scaring up a rabbit, but & man must
' ork very hard and accomplish a
great deal before the people begin to
glance In his direction.
When a man carries a girl's parasol
he Is In love with her. When the car
jries her own parasol she Is In love
with him. '