DETECTIVE SKETCHES.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume 31, Issue 9220, 8 June 1900, Page 4

DETECTIVE SKETCHES.

BY S4NDY SHARP,

THE FAMOUS GLASGOW EX-DETECTIVE. A WRONGFUL CONVICTION. 44 Stop thief ! Stop tbief ! " The shoats reached tily ears one Saturday evenicg when the streets wetefull of pedestrians and Jamaica-street was temporarily crowded by exiur&icnists on their way from the Broomielaw lo the railway stations. The fugitive against whom the hue and cry was being raised w»s apparently not well acquainted with Glasgow or he would have plugged into one of the side streets where hi« undoubted fiectness of foot might have availed to pieveot his capture. Several persons tried to stop him, but one after ouotLer was stnt sprawling headloDg into the dirty roadwaj—the day having been somewhat showery—and he might possibly have escaped his pursuers had not a drunken man staggered across the attest, and by aauddea lurch, thrown him to the ground. Before he could scramble to his feet a constable had him by the collar, a crowd had collected, and'seeing further resistance useless, the young man submitted te bn liauled off to the police-station.

There it transpired that the accused bad been walkißg out with a respectabla looking girl, going up Jamaica-street, when he was stepped by as excited woman and charged with having stukn 20s. worth of silver from her when giving him change on a Saturday evening six weeks previously. The fact that the accused did not attempt to deny the theft ,but took to his heels, seemed to indicate that he wbs guilty, and at the Central his protestations of entire innocence Were received with inert dulity. Another circumstance that was against Willian Sutherland, as he called hiraself t wes his pirsistent refusal to give his address or any account of himself. Naturally he was looked upon by the police as an old offender, and when taken before the Magistrate on Monday morning, he was remitted to the Sheriff, the police in the meantime to make inquiries into his antecedents. I was ia the court at the time, and somehow or other I was strongly impressed in the accused's favour. And yet, duriDg the week of remand, he t*ok no steps whatever te defend himself. He had ever three pounds in his possesion when locked up, yet he declined toengßge legal assistasce on the excuse that as he could not divulge his real name and the addresses of bis friends, it wonld be impossible to clear himself from the charge. The detective-inspector in charge of the case happened to reside near me, and we discussed the affair several times during the week of remand. •* You have made a blunder for once, Sandy," said the inspector, passing my door one evening. " That yeung fellow has been identified. He ib a certain notorious John Keith from Dundee, with convictions galore against him, the latest being twelve months at Perth, in January last year What do you think of him, now ? " refuse to believe that he is sn old g*al-bird until the allegation has been placed beyond all deubt." '* Yon were wrongly named at your ohristenzng, Sandy ; you ought to have been named Thomas,- for you are a confirmed unbeliever." The apathetic demeanour of the accused man disappeared when, before the Sheriff, the Dundee detective entered the witness stand and swore that he knew the prisoner well as John Keith, once ef Dundee, and for several years a resident of Edinburgh or Perth when not in prison, where he had been many times since he was thirteen years of age, for all sorts of offences, principally breaches of the eighth commandment. He called himself a hoose-painter, but all he kaew of painting had been picked up in gaol.

" Your lordship, there is not a single word of truth in the statement of that man. I was never in Dundee or Perth in my life, never inside the four walls of a prison cell before last Saturday night was a week, and sever in custody before this affair for any offence whatever. God help mB ! I am innoceat,come what may." The prisoner's statement and demeanour made some impression oa the spectators, but none of the officials, who regarded it as a splendid bit of acting. " Will you have the case settled now, or go before a jury " asked the fiscal. " Now. if you please." " Biz months' hard labour," said the Sheriff. I was certainly much disappsinted, but even then not yet convinced that I had been mistaken in my estimate of the character of the young man. And subsequent events thoroughly Justified my scepticism. I was leaving my house for a stroll in the city that evening when I was accosted by a respectably dressed young woman, whom I at i nee recognised as a dressmaker my wife had employed on two lecent occasions to assist her in altering dresses. TLe work being done in my Louse, I had had opportunities for conversing with Jtssie Paton, and had formed a verv favourablfe opinion of her. Gan I sec you privately for a few minutes, Mr. Sharp ?" she asked in a voice that trembled strangely, 41 To be sure, Miss FatoH ; come in." As luck would have it, Mrs. Sharp was out, and so we wire alone in the house. " Now tell me what I can do for you," I Baid, watching the girl's nerveus fingers, as she sat with her eyes on the carpet. " Were you in the Polica Court to-day, Mr. Sharp, when a young man was brought up a second time,charged with stealing 20s. worth of silver ? " she Bsked. " 1 was ; do you kcow Aim ? " " He was walkiog with me when the woman stopped him and declared that it was he who had robbed her. I have known him about two months." Two months ! It was more than two months since John Keith left Perth Prison if the Dun dee detective wis right, I thought. " Do you believe he is innocent ? " I asked " I do, Mr. Sharp, and 1 think I can convince you that he is. 1 ought to have come before and told you my story, but did not wish to appear in the matter. My mother believes that I am married to—the scoundrel who, 1 feel positive, committed the theft for which William is now luffering." "Ah! Then you know aßolher youog man sufficiently like Sutherland to be easily mistaken for bim ? " I did know bim, but have not seeu hini for l twelvemonth since last December. He gave me the same of Martin Andersen when we first met, which was at a festival at Holytown, my native place. That will be two year, s i Qca i asfc hiring." " What was he doing there ? " 1 " He was one of a number of painters employed at Moßsend Station." A painter ! That coincided with what the Dundee detective had stated at the policeDoort. " And you came to Glasgow with him, 1 suppoie," I asked, Jessie having to be drawn out judiciously. " Not exactly. I agreed to come here to prork in one of the shops as a dressmaker, with the understanding that he would marry, me within a But, as I said just now, he suddenly disappeared without explanation, and tven if be had not 1 should not have married

him. I don't believe he ever iatended marriage, even if be isn't mariitd already.'' " And this other young man. William Sutherland, how did you make bis acquaintance ? " " 1 was coming home ratber late one eight when there were few people about the streets. I had been finishing some mourning fur one of my best customers, and it was not far from midnight. Suddenly two men popped out of an open stair and asked me for money, ene of them making a grab at my watchchain. 1 screamed for help, and William Sutherland ran up, and knocking the thieves down like ninepins. 1 took him for Martin Anderson,and buing angry witli him for bis desertion,! was a bit rude to him. Mr. Sutherland saw 1 mistook him for another man, and took it all in good part. He insisted on seeing me to my lodgings, and contrived to meet me several times afterwards before I knew I was mistaken in thinking he was Anderson. Then, of couise, I made no objection to being on friendly terms with him 1 " " And did he give you any account of himself ?" " Not much, but it sounded more like truth than the tales the other maa used to cram me with. Mr. Sutherland said he was allowed 255. a week by the trustees of his father's will, and that in another year the estate would be free, and his income enough to enable him to marry." " Did he ever show you any proofs of these statements ?" " Yes ; I saw three letters, but the address at the top was cut off. I think he was afraid ef his friends knowing exactly where he was." " If William Sutherland is his right name they will probably know ere now that he is in trouble." " 1 hope not, Mr. Sharp. He would take it terribly, I know." " Has he gives you any photo of himself P" " Tea, and I brought it with me, tbiukieg it might help you. Look at it closely, Mr. Sharp. Is that the face of a man who has been iu gaol so often as they say p" If it will be any comfort to you, Miss Paton, I will admit that I have never believed him guilty." " Thank you so much, Mr. Sharp. And you will help me to prove his innocence ?" " I will. Let me havß this photo for a few days. The, police at Dundee will have the portrait of the man Keith or Anderson, and a comparison of the two may show sufficient discrepancies, and yet at the same time enough of resemblance to enable me to approach the authorities." " I can pay you for all the trouble you may take iu the matter, Mr. Sharp. I am not afraid, to tell you that my aunt Christina left me £WO last Christmas, and I got it and banked it last week. I would have engaged an agent to defend Mr. Sutherland, but I knew that if he wished anything of that kind he would have sent to me from the police station." " Do you know where he lodged ?" " No ; I never asked him, and he did not tell me. I think it was somewhere across the river in Tradeston or Lauriestoo, but am not sure," The young dressmaker, evidently mucb rilieved, then said good-night, and I spent several houis the next day in thinking the case over and making my plans. By an early afternoon traiH I weut to Dundee, and at the Bridewell was shown a photograph of John "EettS. 'iu£.—ijficer who had sworn to the identity of WihiamlSTlioaTcnidWtn'joLin Keith was he who now showed me photos ot weliknowa criminals, Keith's amosg the rest. Suddenly producing my photo of Sutherland, and placing it alongside that of Keith, I asked the detective to examine the two closely. He did so, and I saw him start with something like ishmentj " Whose photograph is this ?" he asked, pointiDg to the one I hid brought with me from Glasgow. " Surely you know. It ij that of the young man whom you went to Glasgow ytsterday to identify. Photography does not lie, as you know. How, then, do you explain the evident difference between these two phi tographs ? Look at this " acd I pointed to the one in the " Rogues Album," '■ Noto the bold, sneering expression, the protui iing jaw and under lip, and then compare it witli the likeuess of the man you helped to convict yesterday." " Do you rbally believe, Sharp, that he was the wrong man ? " " I do ; and what is more, 1 btTieved in his innocence before I saw this photograph. There is not a single trait of the professional crimiual in the maa sent to prison ytsterday." " Are you engaged by his friends to get him clear ? " " By one—his sweetheart." "And what course do you intend taking in the matter of Betting right the wrong,.if wrong has been done P " "Will your chief allow a photographer to copy that photo of the real John Keith ? I will then sead them round in hopes that Keith may be traced. That is all that can be done at present, for of course the guilty man must be produced before the innocent one can be released from jail." No objection was made to my proposal anent the copying of the photograph, and to my intense delight it proved successful, for on the following Saturday morning I had a letter from the governor of Inverness prison, to the effect that the man 1 wished to find was serving a sentence of thirty dayß for attempting to pick pockets in the local market. He would be released on the ensuing Tuesday morning. I gave Jessie Paton no information on the subject, thinking how gladsome a surprise it would be when her lover was liberated, as he assuredly would be when his double was produced. Accompanied by a city detective, for I had then quitted the force, I journeyed to Inverness the evening previous t« Keith's discharge, and early next morning we were eyed curiously by various little groups of waiting folks gathered to welcome their friends to the blessings of liberty Keith was the first to emergu from the little door in the jail gate, and he did so with a jaunty air, aB though his short spell ot prison fare had not subdued his animal spirits. " " Not so fast, Mr. Keith, you are wanted," said the Glasgow detective, " 1 arrest you o'u the charge ot stealing 20s. worth of silver from the shop counter of Bridget Kelly, High-street, Glasgow, on the evening of Saturday, the Bth June last." Keith's astonishment was unbounded. He wai so much taken aback, never for a moment anticipating that he could be identified as the thief of the pound's worth of silver, that he made ao attempt to deny his guilt, and during our journey to Glasgow he waß evidently much dejected, kuowing that a stiff dose of penal - servitude would probably follow his conviction. In the eveuing Keith was in Glasgow Bridewell, and next morning was confronted with tho woman from whom he bad stolon the silver. " Look at this man, Mrs. Kelly ; did you ever sea him before ? Take care, for we must have no mistakes this time." The woman stared at Keith, then looked at the Inspector, and seemed as if she was about to faint. " The Holy Virgin be good to me, but who is this man at all V " she ejaculated. A gleam of satisfaction glowed in the face of Keith, who said in a triumphant tone " She disna ken me, ye see. It wisna me took her siller. " But it was you And oh I God be good to me-what have I done ? The ether poor fellow waß as innocent bs a wean." Not a word had thus far been said to Kiith about the conviction of am,ther for the theft of the money, but now l.e tras tnligliteaed. He

began to bluster, declaringin emphatic language that the woman would perjure herself if she swore to him after having said tlißt another person stole her silver. But when tLe Dundee detective arrived, and was confronted with John Keith his jaw fill at once. He realised, to use bis own words, that it was all up nilh him.' The detictive was now as much distnssed as the prosecutrix had bee D.and as the Sheriff happened to be sitting the whole party of us went before him. He listened to the statement of the Glasgow detective, looked keenly at Keith, and then expressed his intense regret to find that an utterly innocent young man had been subjected to tho disgrace and igaominy of arrest, imprisonment, and conviction for the crime of auother. All that he could possibly do to rectify the terrible judicial blunder should be done at oaco ; and as the result I set off for London by the 2 p.m. express and reached the Metropolis that night, carrying with me the documents to ba placed before the Home Secretary. Fortunately, the then holder of the office was not an upholder of redtapeism,and my natural excitement procured me an audience soon after he arrived, which chanced to be at a more than usually early hour. After hearing my story, and perusing the official documents,he promised that an erder for the immediate release of William Sutherland from Glasgow Gaol, on Her Majesty's pardon, should be despatched that day if possible. I bad no desire to prolong my stay in London, after receiving such an assurance. I naturally wished to have the gratification of announcieg to Jessie Paton my success in the ta»k she had entrusted to me, and as I knocked at the door of her lodgings I hoped she was not out sewing anywhere. But it was Jessie herself who responded to my summons, and I could see from her radiant face that she had become acquainted with what I would have fain kept from her until we met. " Oh : Mr. Sharp, you have good news for me, I knew. You are soon back from London. Is Mr. Sutherland to be let free ?" "So you know all I have to tell you ? Of course the papers got hold of the affair, and it mast have been a real good thing for them. Yes, Misß Paton, your lover will bs released—probably in the morning." " Thankß. to you, Mr. Sharp. William shall thank you too. 1 shall be grateful to you the longest day I live. But will you do me just one more favour ? Go with me to the gaol in the mornisg to meet him P Ido not care to go alone."

"Yea,MiasPaton,l will accompany you williogly. But you must be up early or wa shall be too late to see him ere he is released. I will call here for you with a cab at seven o'clock.'

" Never fear me, I will be ready lor you. Good night and Heaven bless you." I thoroughly believed that the order for Sutherland's release would reach the governor ot the gaol by the first post next morning but it didn't. The governor had seen the report of the affair in the papers and was therefore not unprepared for eur early visit.

" Pray do not look so glutn, miss, there is another dtlivery of Loudon letters at nit»e o'clock. I think you had better wait for that in she visiting sgents' room."

But what of the unfortunate prisoner, William Sutherland P Not until he had been locked up in his cell, clad in prison garb, did he fully realisg_whßt his foolishness in leaving., bnirja known to his friends was to cost him.

" Six months iu this teriible place. Shall I live to regaiH my liberty ? What have I done that God should suffer me to be punished for a ciime I did not commit ? Is there an overruling Providence ? Oh, yes ! If 1 lost my faith in that 1 should go mad."

The prisoner's manner and address, his gentlemanly bearing, and quiet, respectful demeanour, impressed both the governor and chaplain when he was interviewed by those officials, and the cbaplaio did uot coaceal from the governor his streng conviction that there had been a misc.iriiage of justice, " U 24," as he was styled, was not subjected to hard labour, the gaol surgeon certifjing him as medically unfit ; but the teriible monotony of cell confinement, unrelieved by intercourse with anyone except the waider, was an awful punishment to such a man as William Sutherland.

And if the days seemed lotg what of the nights? Tho hornblo plank bed oa which he had to slc-<p during t he first week was so utterly comfortless that ench morning he rose unrcfr6shed, to commerce auother day's round af monotouous duties.

Would Dcshio believe bim guilty ? Would she also be deceivid by the testimony brought against him ? Nl>, she would Dot ccndemu him; though all the rest of mankind were againttt him, she would !rust him still. It was this confidence that suved him from despair—that enabled him to bear up during that long week. The first week of the twenty-sir to which be had been sentenced had goDe by, and he had slept a little better on the mattress with which be had been supplied ; but as the plank bed would be his lot en the following night, the depression from which he was suffering did not decrease ia inteasity, But when the warder gave him his breakfast Sutherland was surprised by the unwonted tone of kindness with which he spoto to him, and when the prisoners were paraded for chapel he flaw many of the warders gazing at him, curiously. On the previous daj the warder had threatened to report him for idleness uul.eas he got through more oakum, but he seemed to have forgotten Then, immediately after dianer, the ohapliu 1 came again to see him, and spoke in such a hopeful manner that Sutherland was tempted to »sk him what he meant. The chaplin had scarcely left his cell ere the door was again unlocked, and the warder whispered—- " Come thiß way ; you ara going to be liberated." " Then the truth has come to light ? " " Hush ! I tell you no more, and please do not let the governor know Pee said anything. I thought you had better know, and you would be able to meet bim on his own ground. He is not a bad sort, but a stickler for routine. The governor, deputy-governor, and other cbief officers of the gaol were all assembled in the office when Sutherland wag ushered in. " William Sutherland, I have received a telegram from the Home Secretary authorising me to set you at liberty. Her Majesty's gracioupardon will follow by next post, and can be forwarded to you at any address you Dame," said the governor. " I do not want it. Why «fcould I accept a pardon for a crime I aerer committed ? It is enough for me tfoat my innocence has been discovered." " Very well; that will do." In less than half-an-hour Sutherland entered the room where we had patiently waited since soon after seven a.m., and the meeting between jßßsie Paton and her lover was an enjoyable one. " So I am indebted to you.my darliag, for my release 'i " he said. | " Not so much to me as to Mr, Sharp, William. He has done the work ; I merely se'l him going." " 1 will try to show my gratitude, Mr, Sharp, |u a substantial way within a day or two. Let us get away," I had asked the telegraph boy who hr< ught the piessagß to Bead a cab to the prison gate, and in it we left, the gaol. On. the way to Miss Paton's lodgings, where Sutherland bad his flrat meal after his release, I gave him a brief history of my quest for his " double," " I should like to wo the man/' said Bother, land, " That esa easils be arranged." ! answered.

Next morning he accompanied me to the Bridewell, where Keith was confined awaiting the decision of the authorities as to what was to be done, and he was brought out of his cell to the charge-ioom. Sutherland was astonished when Ki-ith was brou ht in, while the latter scowled ferociously, but with a winked leer that told us how th«i, bluuder had tickled him. " You must be my unknown brother," said K>ith, with a laugh. Keith was eventually discharged, Bridge t Kelly haring disappeared, probably fearing the consequences of her mistake. A few months afterwards I received a cordial invitation to the marriage of William Sutherland Kerr and Jessie Paton, to take place at Burnhill, on the banks of the Nith, Dear Durafries, the bridegroom's ancestral estate. In the letter contaiaiug the invitation Mr. Kerr informed me that John Keith had turned out to be his half-brother. Without makiug knonria the circumstances to Keitb, he was offered and accepted an outfit and passage to Australia. With Mr. and Mrs. Kerr my wife a»d I have since spent seveial pleasant holidays at their beautiful home on the banks of the Nith,

day on Friday, and especially fts'the'Govgrri-' ment had only proposed the observance of •a half-holiday. Those who opened their, prem ses on the Friday morning in the usual way were, however, compelled to shut. -A -gang of factory operatives, with whom a i 'or High School* boys themselves," made' themselves -fbbn'ojqous* _»y visiting a Slumber of establishment's* and 'insisting 'on the -employes beino.■'granted a holiday. The employers found prudent to submit rather than- resist,' "because as one put it, '- there '-was no. knowing what the gang of rowdier might As . a result there was virtually a whole* ioliday in town. The, matter : was taken' 'much more quieter "than the'lrelief of Lady--* 'smith, or the relief of MaEekingVy.iind 'of •course there was one explanation of this, 1 'for this was an altogether different ; those": there was "no relief from lover-: •wrought hereVno hours of "{inffd. ■expectancy seeking for consolation; no catching of the breath orhalf doubt whether ibe' "news be true. This was simply a matter (if 'the news had been Reliable) of the British : ■walking without opposition into a Boer Etronghold. This was gratifying but'it was 'not news of a kind that was calculated to; frenzy of excitement and enthusiasm.; . The streets of the town, were not conse'quently 'the scenes on Friday morning last *o£ the "joyous demonstrations of a fortnight. before, and though the procession in the : afternoon was quite as large as that on Mafeking Day it did not march to the ac-, •companiment of ringing, cheers as the former 'did.

The meeting in the evening was, however, intensely boisterously enthusiastic. The Agricultural Hall was not nearly big enough T for all who wished to attend, and hundreds if not thousands could not get in. It was the most demonstrative of all patriotic meet:ings and it was the least orderly. The mayor, "who wasgreeted with tumultuouscheering,experienced a difficulty in making himself heard, and the Rev. Mr Hewitson found it "impossible, his voice being inaudible over the greatest part of the ball—a circumstance "which led to his having to stop, for a section of the meeting, when they could not hear him sang Soldiers of the Queen and Sons of the Sea and Knle Britannia, until he subsided leaving Ms speech unspoken. The Eev. Mr Curzon-Siggers, of St Matthew's, was more fortunate and his ably compressed remarks were loudly cheered. Mr Scobie Mackenzie received a flattering ovation on rising to •speak and in the cheering and singing of For He's a Jolly Good Fellow, for which his appearance was the signal, was unable to "commence, for a couple- of::.minutes;;i The Daily Times interpreted hisj-'receptiorifas a aga that the constitnencyregrets.its rejection of Mr Mackenzie and though the Star thinks it neither just nor wise to attach any political significance to the incident, the inference -drawn by the Times does not seem unreasonable especially when it is taken in conjunction with the decided set ?hat has been made against Mr Barclay. It was altogether, a remarkable meeting, and when it was Over one "had to pick one's way home through streets' iull of half-inebriated youths. The scenes of drunkenness witnessed that night are described by the Star as a public scandal, and -so they were. . But now it has all got to be gone over again, for Pretoria is still held by the Boers. Dunedin, June 5.