A DETECTIVE'S NOTES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVI, Issue 9262, 16 January 1889, Page 3

A DETECTIVE'S NOTES.

BY INSPECTOR MEIKLEJOHN.

[All Rights Reserved.] A NEW COMRADE IN CRIME. I must now introduce a new comrade, who had figured among those many loanoffice swindles—a " thoroughbred mastiff " (to use a vernacularism), a demon in human form—one Jemmie Smyth. This man had formerly been a warder in Coldbathfields Prison, from which exalted position he was relegated to six months' hard labour, for having been found guilty of committing several acts of kindness towards those fellow-creatures entrusted to his keeping, such, for instance, as conveying food from time to time in and out from the prison—food, " baccy," letters, and other " articles" too numerous to detail.

To quote his own remark, "In his endeavours to fulfil the command to do unto others as he would they should do unto him, he was transformed into a disciple of the fraternity of rogues and swindlers."

I had long been on the alert to apprehend this man, having a "bit of blue for his arrest, and knew from reports that he was one of the most daring and dangerous of the whole gang. I was informed by his pals— pleasant reflection, to exercise my motory musclesthat he had for months carried about his person a loaded pocketpistol, and had been known to exhibit this, his "pet" weapon, in front of more than one public-house bar, avowing his intention of shooting me, and afterwards doing ditto to his individual self. He frequently openly boasted to his own confederates that such was his determined resolution. I had for some short time past been close upon his track, but the parties who were liberally paid for information repeatedly threw me " off the scent," by deceiving me with false information ; and, being entirely at their mercy, and dependent upon their statements, my task was thus rendered more difficult, and I was consequently compelled to exercise great caution and discrimination in my movements and operations. A DESPERATE CHABACTEK. I had proof given me of the fact-that he intended taking advantage of the first opportunity offered to shoot me when my back was turned ; and some of his companions, on several occasions, warned me with ft " Mikkie, you look out," and to be careful and very cautious respecting him. My task was rendered more difficult by reason of not knowing the man personally, and I was depending for his identity upon those of his associates whom I employed, and who were continually mixing with the entire gang. He knew me, but I did not know him, excepting by descriptions affor-

ded by his own compatriots. The mon was, morever, a3 I was cautioned, "as artful as a Pulman car full of monkeys all rolled into one."

In proof of Jemmie's cute artfulness, and the necessary caution conveyed to me, I may here relate the fact that on his release from prison he was received with "open arms " into the brotherhood and fraternity of these loan-office swindlers, and became at once a " full-fledged " partner and participator in the "swag" resulting from the business operations which were at that time so extensively carried on. Whilst sharing the " nice little hauls" thus provided, Jemmie appeared, week days and Sundays alike, in real " masher" attire, with a judicious blend of colours suitable to his ideas of elegance, and began to pay marked attention to the ladies " after their kind," and by dint of perseverance " made up " to the wife of a wealthy jeweller in the neighbourhood of Clerkenwell. The "gay deceiver" ultimately induced this fickle dame to leave her lord and jewelled master and husband and her child, and venture with him into the " fresh fields and pastures " provided by Jemmie and his co-partners, and by the " funds" then rapidly coming in. As I was informed by one of the fraternity, this " fair but frail " renegade added additional "grist to the mill." This "fresh-found female friend," as her now master was wont to term her to his male associates, was kept for some time like the first lady in the land, so flourishing became the business of the gang ; and I had not at that time become sufficiently " posted up " in the working of the gang and of this class of crime to be able to at once suppress it. Soon, however, by a stcp-by-step progress, and, from " information received," I was well on the track. The advertisements ceased, and

Jemmie and his associates were hunted down from affluence to comparative poverty, and were reduced from the expensive and elaborately-furnished apartments to humble and insignificant abodes at from 2s to 3s per week. By this time I had fairly run the hare to cover, and hour by hour was nearer to the recovery of my man.

CAUGHT AT LAST. On the 2nd of December, 1871, in company with my two assistants, I was laying in ambush in the Euston Road for my man, where I anticipated he would turn up; and accordingly my anticipations were real ised, for about 6 p.m. I saw two men walking up the said road, and turn into Seymourstreet, and thence into Drummond-street. My companions, who had by this time seen and recognised the man, said, "That is Jernmie Smyth ; but mind, don't touch him until he gets into a public-house, as he is sure to fight." 1 replied, "Fight or no fight, I shall have him now, because if he gets into a public-house he will cub us to pieces with glass. So, now's our time." lat once shot across the street, and caught my man by the collar and wrist, and, precisely as depicted, ho did show fight, like a tiger roused from its lair. The instant I caught him, he exclaimed, " You , I shall fight for it." So at it we wont, " neck or nothing."

We both landed on the ground, struggling and rolling about in thick mud. Just as I threw "my gintleman," he caught the cuff of my coat and wrist between his teeth, and, at the same moment, commenced kicking most furiously. One of my companions immediately introduced a pair of handcuffs and instantly fastened one upon the prisoner's left wrist. Just as this was done, the prisoner wrenched the other handcuff from my assistant's hand, and with it struck him a severe blow under the ear-, which for the moment stupefied him. At the same time tho prisoner kicked him severely in the ehest and other parts of his body. I saw Jemmie meant "business," and I at once threw myself upon his body, and secured his right hand with the " iron bracelet."

Thus wo thought for the time our man would be hopeless, but he was not to be so easily daunted. Up he jumped, and rushed at me like an infuriated bulldog, using his mouth and feet as best he was able. We were soon again on the ground, and our movements were greatly impeded by the surging crowds of people who had by this time congregated around us. Amongst the mob the prisoner evidently had friends and sympathisers, for immediately I got my man up again on his feet, I was tripped up, and down we both went again, over and over. Whilst in this position I caught my new adversary by the foot, and brought him down, too, on "all fours," to form a trio. I at once wriggled my prisoner on top of him, where they were jointly held in this position for about a quarter of an hour. My principal assistant was so severelykicked and maltreated by the prisoner and his friends in the crowd that he was com-

pelled to retire temporarily from the melde, and leavo me and two "uniform" men to fight it out. I kept my man on the ground, fixing my two knees on his chest and holding him by the chain of the handcuffs. A four-wheeled cab was ultimately procured, into which we intended putting our man, and thus conveying him to King's Cross Station. But, lo! and behold! just as the cab was drawn up to the kerb, he placed his legs underneath, and threw cab, horse, and driver clean over in the mud.. After this I could not restrain my feelings,' and' then' I dragged him by the handcuffs on his back through the mud into the waiting-room at Eusfcdri' Square Railway Station. After some few minutes' truce I said, "Are you now going quietly with me?" To which invitation he replied, "No, I shall fight till I die." "All right, my joker," I responded, and left him in the care of two policemen and my assistant, whilst 1 and an inspector who had come upon the scene went and procured a piece of rope. ' ,

* The Proprietors of the New Zealand Herald liavo purchased the solo right to publish theso Notes in North Now Zealand.

On my return I asked him what he intended doing, and whether or not he would now go quietly along with me and my men.. " No,"washhsaucy rejoinder. " I shallfight you to the bitter end." My "monkey" was now well up, and to show him I also meant business, I instantly threw him on the ground, and adroitly put a "twitch" round his ankles and through the handcuffs, thus drawing his hands to the tips of his boots. This piece of performance was a little surprise to Mister Jemmie, which he did not appear to relish nor anticipate, and, finding himself helpless, he at once agreed to submit to fate.

LANDED AT THE STATION. In this elegant, undignified, but withal justifiable position, Jemmiewas hauled into the cab, and thus conveyed to King's Cross Police Station, and there charged and retained for identification. On the following day, Sunday, the prisoner was identified by several persons at whose houses he had lived, and by witnesses at whose houses he had had letters addressed for the purpose of carrying on the loan-office swindle. On Monday, December 4th, 1871, I and my assistant left London by the 8.25 p.m. " Wild Irishman" mailto convey our prisoner to Bantry, County Cork, via Dublin. On the journey all went well; for, knowing our man, little latitude was given for him any chance of escape. On nearing Kingstown Harbour our man appeared to feel his position, judging by his remarks and certain indications observable in his demeanour, and we were apprehensive that some further mischief was "brewing." A LEAP OVERBOARD. All went well, however, until the vessel entered theharbour and wasmoored. All passengers were landed, and we were left alone on deck, until the escort, with fixed bayonets, appeared, inviting us to ascend ashore. Just as we were about to step on the gangway our prisoner made a sudden rush, jumped overboard, and made for the opposite side of the harbour. A lifebuoy being near at hand, I immediately threw it at him, striking him on the shoulders, and thus gave him a "ducking," which startled and unhinged his performance in the water. Down he went, up he came, but, on his second reappearance, evidently exhausted. Suddenly, holding up his manacled hands in a beseeching and imploring attitude, he cried out, " Oh, Meiklejohn, save me from a watery grave !"

By this time he had evidently had enough of the " briny," and was becoming helpless and inclined to give up the game. I and an officer of the vessel lowered ourselves by aid of a rope, and managed to keep our man afloat until a boat was lowered, into which he was taken, and rowed to the opposite side. From thence we proceeded with our escort to Kingstown Police Station, where the prisoner was stripped and placed on a stretcher before a cheerful fire, whilst his clothing was dried and his "inner man" refreshed. At 6 p.m. we started, accompanied by our new Hibernian friends, with bayonets fixed and ready with the "business ends" thereof to save me further trouble with this desperado. Reaching Westland Road, we proceeded thence on to King's Bridge, and on by train to Cork, arriving about 2 a.m. the following morning. From Cork we went on by train to Dunmanway, arriving about 9a. m. Here we remained for one hour, refreshing ourselves, comparing mental notes, and awaiting the mail car for Bantry—about 20 miles distant.

The- journey was wretched, the morning miserably wet, cold, and • uncharitable. Through a wilderness of badly cultivated and apparently deserted land of mountains and huts, we proceeded, relieved only by a stoppage to change horses and give time for a " wee drop o' Jamieson's dear cratur." The journey through this wilderness of Murphyland was enlivened a " leetle" by the frightened attitude of numerous living and moving creatures "after their kind"—donkeys, pigs, geese, ducks, fowls, and red-haired bairns, all echoing their morning chants, and rushing wildly and helter-skelter in at the front and only door of the one-storey huts, which were the only buildings noticeable along the ro#te. On nearing Bantry a few single exceptions were observable in the shape of huts of one-storey higher elevation, these two-storey buildings having been erected— as we were informed by our " jarvey," whose "oily" tongue and "fragrant" breath were essences not soon to be forgotten—by a "gintleman" with a view to the improvement of his estate and the comforts of his tenants—most of whom he assured us used the " upper storeys" as piggeries.

I A REMAND IN THE STREET. I Accompanied by our guard, with bayonets ' fixed and sparkling in the bright sunshine, thus forcibly reminding the prisoner that any further " tricks" or attempts at either escape or trouble on his part, would be dealt with in a summary way, we reached Ban try about 4 p.m., on the 25th of December. Whilst conveying our prisoner through the street, we were accidentally met by the resident magistrate, Mr. O'Connell. This gentleman stopped us for inquiries, and after the usual salutes, given in English and Irish fashion, his "riverence," with a dignity and hauteur which fully explained his legal position, interrogated the prisoner and myself. After this open-air ceremony, which occupied some few minute 3, his worship gave the prisoner a piercing glance, eyeing him from head to foot, and scathingly remarked, " You're a mighty spalpeen of a scoundrel; ye look it, and after givin' these loyal gintlemen of Her Majesty all the bother and trouble ye have been doin', by faith I'll now remand ye until the mornin', when I'll have ye agin before me for a thrial. Take care of the scoundrel, for he's evidently a blackguard." It would baffle me to describe the fun of the mob surrounding us whilst this imposing ceremony was being enacted. Considering the size of the town and surroundings, it appeared marvellous where such a large mob of people could have so suddenly come from.

DELIVERING UP THE PRISONER. Moving our prisoner in, followed by the multitude, who, in language neither measured nor polite, kept the ball rolling, with jokes, anathemas, and a variety of expletives not sufficiently "illigant" to place on record, we arrived at the "lock-up," a onestorey "building," about six feeb three inches from the ground, with thatched roof, holes about two feet square., intended as windows and to admit light and air (the last mentioned of which was an element much needed), no glass, no window sash, nor framework, bub simply boards, suspended on hinges, being let down to keep the night air and cold out. To the authorities in charge of this "police court" we surrendered the prisoner, the guard remaining as necessary companions, and also to keep the authorities from any further contemplated trouble or mischief from their prisoner, who had already given his new custodians some few tokens of the kind of man he was.

A STROLL THROUGH BANTRY. . Leaving our prisoner in safe keeping, myself and assistant took a stroll through the town and surroundings in search of an hostelry wherewith to refresh the inner man, to see some of the sights of " Ould Oiroland," and have " jisb a" leetle drap of sperrits in could wather, and to kill the insects." After an hour's stroll, exchanging opinions with several members of the Irish constabulary and their acquaintances, we were by one of the said " gintlemen" introduced to an hostelry with a view to refreshment, one of the. said acquaintances judiciously introducing a foaming tankard of Guinness' double Imperial, . which this Irish genius characteristically described as "mate, dhrink, lodgin's, and washin'." Mine host was a true "broth of a boy," and busied himself right well to bestow upon his English guests that true hospitality for which all right-minded and truehearted Irishmen are noted, and after some little delay preparatory to hot dishes, &c, a savoury smell of roast pork, duck, and other delicious viands exercised our olfactory organs. "Now, gintlemen," echoed our burly but good-tempered host, "lay to and enjoy yourselves. I've clono my best, and maybe, if ye'ro hungry, ye'll not spare, for there's plenty more where that's come from."

THE DINNER AND THE TODDY. To do our host credit, ib was a repast long to be remembered, and did him honour, for the cooking was done to per-' fection. Being hungry and exhausted from our long journey, we did "lay to," and evidently to the delight and satisfaction of Mr. Caroll O'Daly, mine host, who bestowed upon us as much attention in waiting on us and ministering to OUr creature comforts as though we had been his own "darlin"' prodigal sous just returned from a far-off

country. Dinner over, we were regaled by our worthy host with tumblers of " toddy of his own best brewin'" from a bottle of what Misther O'Daly assured us was Kinahan's LLL (treble L) whiskey, "a rale

thrate of whiskey," which he paid so dear for that he retailed it only- on high days and holidays, and the very bottle he held in his hand was last patronised when "Mistress O'Daly's last little darlint, Maggie, was christened by the holy and riverent Father O'Rourke." With " toddy" to cheer and pipes to soothe us—long, thin and llhgant pipes, emblematical and worthy of the patronage of churchwardens—we passed a merry and genial evening. The evening's enjoyment was interspersed with a few Irish and English songs and melodies characteristic of our relative nationalities and given with such genuine pathos as to betoken the brotherly feeling entertained towards English visitors. . On. parting for the night, for the genial hospitality and enjoyment brought us near the still small hours, we received a request from a gentleman to bestir" ourselves early i' the mornin'," and, with him, pay a visit to the ancient farming mansion of the O'Rourkes. This invitation was readily accepted, and at 8 a.m. on the following morning, after partaking of a substantial breakfast, we accompanied our newlyformed acquaintance for a stroll through the suburban surroundings of Bantry. THE MAN AT THE LONG CROSSING. On the journey our acquaintance was accosted by a crossing-road sweeper, standing, or rather leaning against the palisades opposite a long rambling edifice, known as Bantry Hall. Here stood this well-recocr-

nised, and as I was informed, legitimate sweeper of " the long crossing," his broom

resting upon his arm, and the corresponding sleeve of his coat—for he has bub one arm —pinned by a large corking pin to the fold of his red waistcoat. This had evidently been, if not of Irish manufacture, twisted by Irish hands. Indeed, if the sweeper's name had not been John O'Brien, and we had not heard his mellifluous brogue, no doubt could be entertained as to where he came from ; the brim of his hat was bent over his; left eye, impressed by the mark of his finger and thumb, pinched in by continual bowing, so as to have a knowing, roguish twist; the crown had disagreed with the rim, or round, or they had come to an almost mutual separation by consent. I noticed a handful of hay, symptoms of a red handkerchief, crusts of bread, and even a mutton bone, peeping through the slit—yea, even staring out, for O'Brien said, " That sorra pocket has he, but only the crown of his hat, and Judy says she can't affoord pockets to his coat." The weather had been fine, so that one might imagineO'Brien'R " occupation gone;" but it was not so, as our acquaintance informed us that in winter the sweeper sweeps the snow and mud from " the long crossing" and in summer " waters and sweeps the dust." I noticed that on this morning he had been very liberal with the pure fluid.

Our acquaintance remarked to him, " O'Brien, you have converted the dust into mud; you are afther making work for yourself." "Mud! oh dear! Do ye call that sprinkling mud ? Och hone ! well, but my lord is hard to please! The pleasure I take in making the long crossing agriable, just a little thickening and softening, and to.call it mud ! Oh, my, my ! Well, to be sure! Why, thin, how wouli yer honour like it ? Sure it isn't in regard' of the haapence I get—and shure enough the soight of a silver sixpence would do the soight of my eyes good— in regard ol the haapence, but the honour of sweepin' for the best and 'ansomesb ladies and gintlemen from England, that's what I think of ; and, my lord, if ye'll plaze to bespake the nature of the damp, it shall be as you loike, sir. Good raison I have, too. I always says to Judy, 'Judy, says I, 'the Irish and English gintlemen always brings me good luck, if it's only tuppence they give me; it's the regular seed of wealth —it grows, so it does,' and God bless you, gintlemen ; and now, gintlemen, how would ye like the long crossing to-morrow ?" It would be impossible to describe the shades of expression that passed over Johnny O'Brien's face during this piece of eloquence ; the merry twinkle of his keen, grey eye, the movement of the muscles which contracted, expanded, and twisted his mouth ; the action of his hand, which was doing duty for two ; the shrug of his shoulder, and the anxious leer from under his eyelids to see how the hint about the twopence took. " Johnny, I do not think I ever gave you more than a penny at a time in my life." " Well, yer honour's lady gives me a penny, and yer honour gives me a penny, and shure that's tuppence. Bedad ! if yer honour '11 give me the tuppence now, I'll tell the lady next time—if yer honour wishes it. If not, why, as the fool said, ' We'll let it stand, a penny for Johnny and a penny for Jacky.'"

THE PENSION. O'Brien, as he said himself, was "not altogether beholden to sweepin'." He had been a souldier. He talked with contempt) of the French and Germans, and declared that "the Almighty niver created but one rale man in the world (barrin' Her Majestie, for whom he had great riverence), and that man was the mighty Juke of WellingtonGod bless him !° shouted Johnny. " So. gintlemen, O'Brien has a penshun." What the pension was, our guest informed us, Johnny had never been known to declare. It may be much, or it may be little; bub if you inquire, he has the most ingenious way of telling, and nob telling. " The penshun, yer honour? Oh, bedad ! it's little I get for the beautiful arm-flesh— blood, and bone, my ginblemen—it was that I lost for my country's cause and England's glory !" " But how much is it, Johnny?" , " Faix, my gintlemen, it's a mere notbin', and the wife and childer to the fore." " But how much 1" "To my sorrow, yer honours, I've no larnin'—l've no hand at the figures, and I'm thinkin' they do me out of some of ib, ye see. I managed foinely until after Miss Kattie Murphy, round the corner, was married."

"How was that?" inquired my companion, who was evidently much interested in the conversation, and in the cunning and adroitness of the crossing-sweeper, and his Hibernicisms.

Why, you see, her sweetheart)— God ) bless them both, and their childer that'll follow—always came to see her twice a day, and though the baste (horse) was nothin' but a hack, still I'd a reg'lar silver sixpence to hould it. She's married now ; and, faith, I don't think he's plazed with his bargain ; for when they come to see the ould lady and the gintleman in the shaze, which is more responsible to hould than the baste, I niver get anything but coppers; and, shure, it takes a many on 'em to make up the silver." We could not help but admire the " tact" and adroitness, which was so truly Irish, and noted how well .Johnny managed to turn curiosity from his pension to Miss Kattie Murphy that was "the proprietress of the stray that is," and the bridegroom* probable unhappiness, either present or ti come.

johnny's offspring. Johnny's offspring, the little match-selling children, were at the time making up a piteous story to his honour's cook near to, about their father having left his bones at Waterloo. I reminded the cook that tho battle had been fought some sixty years ago ; and she was so riled and angry that, even at the risk of spoiling the dinner then in course of preparation, she pursued tbe urchins and found them in the very act of dutifully sharing the pie-crust, meat, and other comestible articles she had bestowed, with our old friend the sweeper. This was too much to be borne by Biddy. She called them " little story-tellers" (but nob in those words), and their father took their part. "I ax yer pardon, ma'am, but here is some of what ye gave the childer. God bless ye, my darlin'." And Johnny held up the remains of a shoulder of mutton,

"That's a bone, ma'am. Sorra much mate on it; ye'll nob say that's nob a bone!"

" Certainly not," said Biddy. " Well, then, the childer tould no lie. They said their father left his bones ab Waterloo, and so I did ! God help me ! Tho bones of my beautiful arm, and my band, and five of my fingers; my right arm too, ma'am, with all its cunning. They tould no lie, ma'am, j'er honour and gintlemen. It wasn't their fault, ma'am, if ye couldn't) understand English." We now took our departure, and wended our way to the court-house, to renew our acquaintance with the magistrate, before whom our prisoner was officially brought, and by whom he was formally remanded for eight days. [To be continued.

To Householders. — Meat at Fair Prices.—Public attention is directed to the business advertisement of The New Zealand Frozen Meat and Storage Company (Limited) n this paper with list of current retail prices-