The Madisonian., July 08, 1913, Image 5

About The Madisonian. (Richmond, Ky.) 1913-1914

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The Cases of Alice Clement
True Stories of the World's Greatest Woman Sleuth
as Told by Herself to Courtney Riley Cooper
ii
Kidding the
(Copyright, by W.
I LICE Clement was going
home home after many
miles of wanderings, home
with the satisfaction of
knowing that the quest she
had been on had been suc
cessful. . She had crossed
the seas on this quest, she
had traveled the countries
go
of ancient Europe she had been
through difficulties and' dangers; but
they had left upon, her youthful, al
most childish face, no damaging' mark.
It used to be' my standing expression
to tell Alice Clement that ehey grew
younger every day. And now, as we
sat in the parlor car of a fast train to
Chicago, I repeated the stock worn
phrase, and she laughed, as she always
did.
"That's because you are growing old
about twice as fast as any one else
In the world," she cried. "I suppose
the next time I see' you you will be
hobbling along on a stick and wearing
a beard down to your knees."
I looked out at the station clock
and noticed that there remained a half
hour before time for the train to
leave. t '
"Considering that," I said, "won't
you take pity on me and tell me what
sent you to Europe?"
She seemed to debate a moment
with herself and looked at me once or
twice with that leasing expression I
have come to know so well. .
"Suppose," she said, "I told you the
story of a piece of paper, a blind wo
man and a castle in Italy?"
"A what?" I asked, vaguely.
"More than that," was her answer;
"but I will let it come in my story.
"I picked up the paper one morning
to read the brlet notice that the Ital
ian section of town near Chicago ave
nue was somewhat excited over the
disappearance of Rosita Cassanelli.
Rosita, it seems, had Btarted to con
fessional at the Holy Name church
Sunday morning at about seven
o'clock. She did not enter the place
of worship, nor did she return to her
home. The case was plain, according
to the newspapers the Black Hand!
"Some way that case interested jme.
I saw the captain and gained permis
sion to work on it. An hour later I
was In the little store of Antonio Cas
sanelli, obtaining from him in. fiery
Italian sentences what he knew about
the kidnaping of his child. That was
but little: Rosita hadbeen there and
now. she was gone. Any enemies?
Antonio shook his head and. spread
his hands. Any chance for ransom?
The Italian smiled vaguely at me and
S pointed to his meager stock.
"It is all I have," he said.
"Yet large sums of money are not
always sought by the men who steal
children in Little Italy. To some, one
hundred dollars means a vast amount.
It was the time of the year when
every lodging house harbored scores
of laborers driven In by the cold
weather from work in the railroad
cafhps. They needed money, they
were not particular as to how they
got it, and the stealing of human flesh
, represented the best way of making a
living. t
"I left the little store and wandered
along the street which I believed Ro
sita had walked on her way to. church,
asking questions through the Italian
policeman who accompanied me, as
we went along. At last I found what
I sought, a little child who had seen
Rosita talking to three men who had
stopped her.' That was all the child
knew, with the exception of the fact
that she had seen one of the men
take an envelope from his pocket, tear
the flap from it, scribble . something
and then hand It to one of his com
panions, throwing away . the empty
part of the envelope. .
"The child could give no description
of the men, nor did she see them lure
Rosita away. , . ' 'v
"But I had what I . sought the
chance of a clue and, together with
my companion we - began the search
for the piece of envelope. "We knew
. there was only a small chance that it
could tell us anything; but we must
take that chance. Slowly we walked
along the street, our eyes searching
here and there, staring at every bit of
paper, meeting disappplntment after I
disappointment.. At last I gave a lit
tle cry and leaped forward.
"A Sapless envelope lay wedged be
tween an ash barrel and a rickety
shed. I seized it and eagerly sought
some bit of writing that I hoped might
, be there. But I was disappointed.
Y Yet there 'was something about
that envelope which made me think.
The paper was heavy and of the best
quality. The jBhape was not that of
the ordinary envelope purchased n
our American stores. I held it to the
light and then turned to my Italian
friend, my faco showing more of in
terest than a case of this ordinary
kind should breed.
" 'Defeo. I said, 'Could there be any
such thing as a kidnaping society?'
"'What do you mean?' the police
man asaea. ,
" 'I mean an organized band of kid
napers, who have grown. Vealthy
through the stealing of children and
the holding of them for ransom?
"Defeo laughed. There can be
most anything In Italy.' he said.
"'Wei! I mused, 'If this is .the case
IE
Kidnapers
a. Chapman.)
of a society, the kidnaping has paid
well enough to insure the owners of
the business in the buying of the best
of everything, stationery . included.
Beyond that, there seems to be a
Latin mixed in it.'' Read this' I
handed him the envelope and watched
his face as he held it to the light.
- "His eyes grew wide in astonish
ment. 'The house of Immeo!' he said.
"'Rather familiar, eh?' -I' queried.-
"'One of the oldest houses of It
aly," he answered. And then burst
forth: "
""It is the big grand mistake! he
cried. 'How do we know where the en
velope came from?. That little kid,
how did she know?" He shrugged his
massive shoulders. 'It is all the one
big grand mistake,' he added.
"'That's what I am going to find
out about, I answered. 'Mr. Immeo,
or whatever his name is, may belong
to a very aristocratic family and have
his watermarked stationery and all
that, but just the same he may be do
ing a little kidnaping on the side for
pocket money. I guess that that is
about all, Defeo. . I think I can handle
things alone from now on. Oh, by the
way,' I called, as the policeman start
ed away, 'if you happen to see a blind
woman who is led by a little girl in
this neighborhood please walk the
other way. I have an idea she may
want to do her begging when there
are no policemen around.'
"Defeo looked at me and r winked
solemnly. We had worked together
before "
That afternoon when I left the de
tective headquarters for my home my
plans -were all made. Too many times
had I seen the efforts of the police to
catch those who demanded ransom
fall because they were working
against head3 that were wiser than
theirs. I felt, sure that should the
kidnapers return Rosita they would
not do so until they had sent a man
ahead with a decoy child to determine
whether the coast was clear. . It was
this decoy that I planned to furnish,
and the child was to be my own little
girl.
"That night a plodding, stumbling
woman, led by a little child, made her
exit from the apartment ordinarily
inhabited by Alice Clement, and made
her way to the Milton street section
of Little Italy. She whined as she
walked along, calling, attention to the
fact that 6he was blind since birth
and begging of whomever she passed.
At. last the dingy ( lights of Milton
street showed and Bhe grasped more
tightly the hand of the little girl who
led her. '
"'Be brave, honey!' she whispered.
'and whatever happens, remember
that your every move is watched and
guarded. No one -is going to hurt
you.
"That woman was myself; Jhe child
was my daughter.. Our-quest was to
find the man who would see In my
little girl the very child they needed
for my decoy. Dive after dive we en
tered, and through lowered lights I
searched the faces of the ones I saw
there. The hiurs went by, but noth
ing, happened. We returned to our
home at midnight, tired and excite
ment worn, but with no more informa
tion than when we had started. - And
the next day brought us a surprise.
Antonio Cassanelli N had received no
threatening letters, no requests for
ransom. That night we started forth
again, with no better results. Still the
mails remained quiet, still' Antonio
heard nothing concerning the child. A
week went by and. I was ; becoming
discouraged, disheartened, and was
plying the. Italian section of the city
with my little girl for the last time,
Antonio had given her up 4s dead. I
had almost given up the case as hope
less. Suddenly, however, as we start
ed .'to leave an ill-smelling saloon, I
struggled hard to repress an-Involuntary
exclamation. .. Two men were
sitting at a table near by. At the el
bow of one I discerned an envelope the
same in size and texture and color as
the one I had found at the spot where
Rosita Cassannelli had been kidnaped
I noticed it bore writing and the
stamp of" having come through -the
mails. I pressed hard on the hand of
my; little girl and urged her for
ward. With true instinct she went to
ward the men, giving her begging
nlea as she walked. They turned to
her with a sneer and shook their
heads, but I did not - care. Under a
fold of my dress I had swept the. let
ter and held it with clutching fingers
"An hour later two Italians sneered
and shook their heads at the hundreds
of questions which were being shot
at them in my rooms at detective
headquarters.'" They knew nothing,
they said, and they could tell. nothing.
They, never had seen the letter which
lay before them, nor did they know
of 'such a person as Count Immeo,
Midnight came and we gave up, hope
of drawing from them any thing that
would, lighten the mystery of why a
count rapparently wealthy should at
tempt 'to steal the child of a poor
Italian shoDkeecer We sent lor cas
sanelli and we questioned him. He
shook his head and stared moodily be
fore him, but jjave us no Information.
t turned to the captain at last.
u 1 guess I go to Europe,' I said
half hopefully.? y-
"1 guesa jrou do, was hts answer.
as he again picked up the letter and
stared at it Written in a practiced
talian hand was this message: 'En
closed is the five hundred lira. By
tomorrow we shall be safe on the sea
and then to Immeo. Heaven bless you
my men. (Signed) Roderico.' That
was all but, it held forth to me a thous
and conjectures, a thousand surmises
each more wild and more varied than
the other.
"Every . word, every letter, was a
blazing question mark. . Why?-
Why? - -v
"Why should a count come to Amer
ica, steal the child of a poor man and
pay gladly for it? Why should he
then seek escape across the sea and
bless the men who had aided him?
"It was almost certain, that he
would not go to his estates In Immeo.
must, trail him, track him from
country to country. That - night I
left for New York. la Liverpool I
found he had gone to London, in1 Lon
don I. searched and struggled to at
last learn he had departed for Edin
burgh. The child was with him. Then
I knew that he was leaping from city
to city even as a rabbit leaps from
clump of grass to clump of grass to
evade his pursuers. Edinburgh led to
Chantilly, Chantilly to Paris. There
for two Weeks Most him. Then came
the clue which' sent met to Berne.
It was in the shadow of the snow
capped Alps' upon a little' rustic
bridge which crossed a tumbling
mountain torrent that I found the
man that I had chased so many thous
and miles.
"Deep set of eye, kindly of feature.
tall and aristocratic In appearance, he
was somewhat different than the man
whose "description I had followed. He
led a little girl as he walked along
talking to her playfully, patting her
hands now and then, and once in a
while lifting her Joyously Into his
arms and kissing her. . That little girl
was Rosita Cassanelli out what a
difference! - The ragged clothes of
the slum3 had changed to ones of
the finest texture. A golden necklace
from which was suspended a great
glowing amethyst encircled her neck,
Shoes of the finest make were on her
feet. Every item of her dress and ap
pearance were of elegance. For a mo
ment I hesitated, unbelieving that this
could - be the person I had sought,
that this could be the girl who once
lived In the narrow confines of Chica
go's Little Italy. At last I started
forward and bending as though to tie
a vagrant shoe-lace, whispered the
name of 'Rosita,' Into the child's ear,
"A frightened look crossed her
countenance and she seemed to cling
more tightlj' to the hand of the man
by her side. Count Immeo looked
downward a.nd I rose to meet his
glance.
'"Well? he asked, and there was
anger In his voice, 'what do you mean
by frightening the child?'
"I smiled at him. 'Does her real
name easily frighten her?' I asked.
"'Her real name? A perplexed
Trown showed on his forehead.
"What-
: -""What d.oI mean, by calling her
Rosita?' I asked.
"'Rosita?' he almost gasped.
'"Exactly I answered, 'the letter
you wrote from New York enclosing
five hundred lira, as payment for the
kidnapping of , this child was fortu
nate or unfortunate enough to fall
into the hands of the police. Now,
count,' I said showing my badge, '1
would like to know ' why you kid
napped the child of a poor shopkeep
er and brought her here to Switzer
land bestowing' upon heV every, af
fection, yet knowing that you risked
prison in doing so.'
"The man had turned pale. He
stood for a moment regarding me in
wonderment, his arms encircling the
form of the little girl as if to shield
her. The eyes seemed to sink further
back into his head than ever.
"'You followed, then?' he asked
huskily.
" That is evident, was my answer,
and I am liable to follow farther' un
less I gain the information that I seek.
More than that, there may be a little
question of international law. as re
gards your coming back to the United
States as a prisoner. - s -
"He took a step backwards? ''A
prisoner?' he half cried. A prisoner
for stealing my own child? Yes,
laugh,' he burst forth laugh and say
I lie. But she Is mine. She I
will tell you no more,' he half growled
at me. T will tell you no more.'.
f'T stepped toward him and laid a
determined hand on his arm. - .
'"You'll make the fullest ; of ex
planations,' I said, slowly, 'because I
have made my arrangements for your
arrest should I need it A3 far as the
law knows, thi3' child is the daughter
of Antonio Cas&atlU, a . shopkeeper
of Chicago.'
"The child is mine!' he answered
almost hysterically. ' 'Mine! Mine!
Mine! Wt at have I given up money
for all these years? What . have I
searched for and worked lor and plot
ted for -'
- " 'You plotted then? I burst in.
"Count Immeo started to reply,
then his feverish eyes, sweeping the
bridge, he "saw those that might hear
and his lips closed. , He whirled and
taking the child into his arms beck
oned me to follow. '!
"Twenty, minutes later I stood in a
locked room of a hotel , watching -a
nervous man as he paced up and
down, his eyes set straight before him,
his lips grim pressed, his - ; hands
clasped . behind him. There was in
his featur&s that indication that the
last straw needed to make the burden
upon him all too heavy had ' fallen.
His face seemed 'old and seared, his
manner whs that of man who. had
. fought and fought only, to lose In the
end. At .test he spoke. : . .
" 'Once there lived in Italy,' he said,
'a young ican whose ways were of the
5 p j j
WITH TRUE INSTINCT, SHE WEN
crooked path. Life to him was not
much, one day meant nothing more
than another. It doesn't make any
difference to you what the great mis
take was that he made, but one day
he made It and there was another
man In the world besides himself who
knew of it. The years , went by and
he married. He had not heard In all
that time of the other person who
knew his. secret; then one day the
crash came. Cassanelli appeared.'
"Cassanelli?' I asked.
"Count Immeo went on as if he had
not heard me. ,
" 'He needed money and he told me
of his need. Also he told me that If
that money was not forthcoming the
woman who was my wife would know
the secret of my life. I paid him, the
blackmailer he went away smirking
and called down upon me the bless
ings of the heavens, but I knew he
would come again. A month and he
was back smirking in the same old
way, rubbing his hands together in
anticipation of the money he was to
get from ine; tinting' In his sinister
manner that it was either the money
or my happiness. Again I gave to
him again and again and again. He
became a leech.' His face followed me
in my dreams and I knew that I must
either pay him or he .would tell, tell
everything to the woman I loved. A
year went by two the baby came,
and still Cassanelli hung on drawing
from me month by month the money '
that was sapping my resources. At
last he showed before me and his face
had lost the smile. "Fifty thousand
lira," he said. "Fifty thousand?" I
gasped. "Fifty thousand" was the
cold reply. "I have lost much In games
of chance I am sick I need much
money."
" 'It was more than I had far more
and I begged with him, pleaded
with him, but always the same answer
greeted my every entreaty: . "Fifty
thousand lira or I tell."
'"In a week, I begged.
"Tomorrow was his answer. That
night I gritted my . teeth and went be-v
fore my wife. Trembling, I told her
what I had striven so hard to conceal
from her. My breath seemed to catch
in my throat and my lips, .my knees,
my whole being shook as with a palsy.
Word " by word I. forced it out and
then like a condemned man awaited
her answer. I screamed when she
gave.it screamed with the greatest
joy I had ever known. I leaped for
ward and clasped her in my arms I
covered her face with kisses. I wept,
yes, wept like a child, In the fullness
of my gratitude. .
. " 'She had forgiven me! What did
I care now ; what Cassanelli threat
ened? The one person for whom I
careel had heard and had forgotten. I
laughed the next day when he told
me that he would give me no more
time, , laughed in his face and dared
him to injure me. I threw him out
of the house and stood smiling at a
window, watching his upraised arms
and listened, to his fevered curses. I
was free! Free!'
"The face of the man before , me
had lightened and become almost ex
alted, vas he told his story. But now
the features grew saddened again and
the words came more slowly.
" 'A week later the baby was gone.
I knew where. I knew also that If I
set the police on the trail that death
would be the result. I. was .playing
against a man who had vengeance as
his object In life now, and I could do
nothing that would further his anger
against me.
" 'God, he burst forth, 'the agony of
if : . y , , . v
The days and nights we spent Just
staring ahead, just wondering whether
she were living or dead! Waiting for
the information that we felt ' must
come to us some day.: The fiendish
exulting letter that would tell us how
she died! Ten times T started for
the policij but my heart gave way. I
found "a way to reach him with the
news that I was endeavoring by every
way I could' to raise ' the'-.; money.
Some waj: or other, I managed to keep
a , vague .track of iim and at least I
found he had left for the States. I
learned where he was In Chicago. -ao;
T TOWARD THE MEN, GIVING HER
I. did not call the police. I was afraid
even then of the mischance that
would end my baby's life. I schemed,
I watched, I plotted and one day,
there came the chance I had waited
weeks for. I took It I got my baby
back by the same means by which
she had been taken away from me!
I stole her!
"'And now,' he cried out as he
whirled and faced me, the trapped
beast showing in his countenance,
'take her away from me if you can!
I will fight you! I will fight every
one for her! Arrest me throw me
In prison, but I will still have my lit
tle girl with me! You can't take her
away from me! he almost screamed.
You can't you can't!"
Miss Clement looked at me with a
smile In her eyes. ,
"Well?" I asked.
"That's all," she answered.
"And after traveling all those miles
you believed this man?"
"Certainly," was her reply, "after I
had cabled the information which
caused Cassanelli to confess."
She looked up suddenly. "Court
Cooper," she said, '.'you'd better be
saying good-byvand getting out of this
train or you will be buying a ticket
to Albany. It's just half 'a minute be
fore leaving time." :(
NOT LIVING UP TO ADVICE
Matron's Actions as Husband Phoned
Didn't Coincide With Her Talk
to Fair College Grad.
"I don't know what to think," said
the college graduate. ,
"It's the first admission of the kind
since you got your diploma," said the
old maid.
"What to think about what?" asked
the matron just turned thirty. Her
mouth was. down at the corners and
there was a wrongs-for-womcn look
in her eye.
"About marrying. Dave is begin
ning to insist on marrying just as I
am beginning to see that I have
some future ahead If I work out by
myself."
"Don't hesitate a minute," said the
matron just turned thirty, and brought
her teeth together with a noticeable
click. "What can you do better than
anything else?"
"I am interested, you know, in ce
lestial mathematics."
"Then go in for it. Go in for any
thing that has the word 'celestial' in
it. It sounds promising. It may
lead ' you into heaven. Marrying
won't. There's no use to pretend that
it wilL"
"You said last week," began the
old maid; but the matron just turned
thirty wouldn't let her- go on.
"I am talking seriously now," main
tained the matron, "and as one wom
an to another I am telling this young
thing that a woman who expects mar
riage to bring satisfaction is follow
ing an ignis fatus. Men are all very
well for down town, but the woman
who looks to a man to make life seem
worth while is a woman who is fated
f orv a grand awakening " :
The telephone, bell, rang then, and
while the matron just turned thirty,
answered it the ' two regarded each
other with looks that uaid that they
were astonished at her and commiser
ative of her. Then her voice at the
telephone came on to them in languid
cadence: "Why, yes, I suppose I can
go. O, yes, I suppose I want to. Real
ly. You surprise me. From the way
you rushed off this morning I should
hardly have thought Yes, but what
made you forget? You have missed
Ye-es. I have, too. You old darling!
All right,' then, hurry, home.' I'll be
ready." ' -! '
She came back from the telephone
to the two who had listened in con
scienceless attention. "Jim and I are
going to have a little celebration to
night," she announced, shamelessly.
"It's our anniversary." ' y v ' ,
"You hadn't mentioned it: before,"
said the old, maid."
' "No he-;we it slipped - our mlsds
this morning." She' went out of the
I room then, red bit radiant. I '
BEGGING PLEA AS SHE WALKED.
"If you really want any advice about
marrying," said the old maid, turning
on the college graduate, "you will
have to come to us single women.
You can't believe anything the mar
ried ones tell you. They are here
htoday and there tomorrow. Their con
clusions about matrimony rest upon
no surer base than whether or not
their husbands remembered to kiss
them good-by this morning. They
haven't any perspective. It takes an
old maid to be a president of a con
gress of mothers, and it takes one
to illuminate the subject of mat
rimony for the young and unde
cided." , "Turn on your searchlight. .Let's
have the illumination."
"O, all that it comes to is that
each woman has. to decide for her
self," said the old maid. New York
Evening PosL
FALSE THOUGHT OF ROMANCE
Sad and Dismal Tale of a Young Man
and a Lovely Damsel Who
Sold Soap.
Love came at first sight to the
young man when he saw her. She
was behind- the soap counter, dis
pensing perfumed soap to those who
wished to buy it, and she was all his
impressionistic fancy favored in
woman.
Her face was adorable. Her hair
was coiled bewitchingly. Her slender
fingers were deliciously pink. Her
dress, being neat and inexpensive, re
vealed an . economic nature, while a
necklace prevented the aspersion of
parsimony. The , young man, just
from college, with high intellectual
notions and yet sensible opinions as
to neces&ary thrift, believed her to be
his affinity. He knew that, taken
from the department store and placed
In the social environment that was
his, she would scintillate and charm.
He determined to have a word with
her to please his ears with the music
of her voice; for he was sure her
voice must be musical. Elsewhere he
would have waited for the convention
al Introduction; here, where she sold
soap,' the matter of meeting was
made obvious. He approached.
"Will you let me have a five-cent
bar of soap?" he asked which, though
commonplace, was as good as any
thing else for him to say.
She smiled angelically, revealing po
etic, pearly teeth.
"We ain't got no five-cent cakes,"
she told him; "them in the case is
ten an' twenty-five."
He turned away. His romance had
died a-borning.
Foretell Coming Weather. -
Long, range weather forecasting ap
pears to be gaining credence, little by
little, with the progress of meteorolo
gy. The last annual report of , the
Dutch East Indian meteorological serv
ice mentions the fact that forecasts of
the strength and weather characteris
tics of the easterly monsoon are now
issued at Batavia each April. Official
monso.oon forecasts have been . regu
larly made in British India for many
years. In the United States weather
bureau Sunday forecasts for a week in
advance have become an established
institution. In all these cases the
forecasts deal with only the broader
features of the weather over wide
areas.' " . .. -y " O ,. -
Steel Furniture Coming.
Steel furniture for . offices and fac
tories will, during the next ten years,
entirely supplant that now being' made
from wood, according to an official of
the largest metal equipment manufac
turing concern in the United States.
As steel furniture and fixtures', are
fireproof and . more economical,' build
ers are discarding the old-fashioned
wooden equipment and installing steel
in many of the new buildings, v
1 The ' use of this material also en
ables the floor space of 'the average
factory to be Increased, and lower
rates are given by insurance compa
nies when this class of furniture la in
stalled. ; :