The Crime of the Century; Or, The Assassination of Dr. Patrick Henry CroninHunt, Henry M.
History
The Crime of the Century; Or, The Assassination of Dr. Patrick Henry Cronin
Hunt, Henry M.
Cronin, Patrick Henry, 1846-1889; Trials (Assassination) -- Illinois -- Chicago
Wisch on almost every point. The hair of their friend and tenant they
asserted, was long, soft and remarkably silky, while, moreover, it was
precisely of the same shade as the lock held by Captain Villiers. In the
face of these conflicting statements the latter very wisely concluded
that it would be useless to push this particular branch of the
investigation at that time, and the clue was consigned to a drawer of
the safe in the Lake View Station.
WAGON TRACKS LEAD TO THE WATER'S EDGE.
Meanwhile every available officer of the police force of the suburb,
reinforced by Captain Schaack and a number of city detectives and
officers, were searching high and low to discover the whereabouts of the
physician and to solve the mystery surrounding the bloody trunk. Captain
Schaack and his associates, after examining the locality of the find,
tramped over the ground for a mile around.
[Illustration: DETECTIVES INSPECTING THE SPOT WHERE THE TRUNK WAS
FOUND.]
While thus engaged a discovery was made that in the light of subsequent
events was of considerable importance. It was the tracks of a wagon in
the sandy road leading to the lake. Commencing at a point but a few
yards from the place where the trunk was dumped, the trail went
northwardly some three hundred yards, then turned to the side road and
went east to the water's edge. Here in the wet sand the indications of a
halt were quite plain. Thence, after following the beach about a hundred
yards, the tracks turned into what was known as the Wilson road, and
apparently proceeded southward to the city. It was impossible to
determine from appearances whether the ruts were a day or a week old,
for the high wind had blown the fine sand across the level beach in
great clouds. At this juncture, however, a special officer of the
village of Edgewater, and a watchman at the station, Wade by name, and
who had learned that the officers were inclined to connect the wagon
tracks with the trunk, told an interesting story.
"Early on Sunday morning," he said, "I was standing on Hollywood avenue,
just north of Bryn Mawr avenue, when I saw a team standing near the edge
of the lake. It was about 1:05, and I went to the team and asked a
fellow who stood near what he was doing there at that hour of the
night."
"We're looking for the Lake Shore drive," said he, "we want to get back
to town."
"The Lake Shore drive, man, is two miles from here," I said, "can't you
see there is no roadway here?"
"While I was talking a couple of fellows who had been walking along the
beach came up."
"Boys," said the first man, "this officer says we're away off the road."
"At this they all got into the wagon and drove west on Bryn Mawr avenue
until they reached the Evanston road. Then they started down Evanston
avenue at a rapid gait and I lost sight of them. I noticed a long square
box in the wagon, but it was very dark and I could not see plainly what
it was. The fellow I talked to, however, I'll recognize and identify
anywhere."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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