Bucholz and the Detectives

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The countenance of the State's attorney was an enigma to the lawyers
for the defense. Confident and self-reliant, he had marshaled his
array of witnesses, and their testimony was a consistent recital of
the events relating to the murder and the various circumstances
relating thereto. Nothing definite or convincing had as yet been
proven, and the attorneys wondered at the undismayed demeanor of the
prosecuting officer.

On the afternoon of the third day, after the examination of two
unimportant witnesses, Mr. Olmstead arose, and, addressing the
sheriff, said:

"Call Ernest Stark."

There was nothing unusual in the name, and but little attention was
paid to the order thus given. The prisoner and the attorneys had
never heard the name before, and no uneasiness was manifested upon
their faces, but when, in answer to that call, Edward Sommers entered
from the ante-room, and stepping upon the witness stand, confronted
the court, a change came over the faces of the accused and his
counsel, wonderful to behold.

Bucholz staggered to his feet with a smothered expression of physical
agony and stood for an instant pressing his hand convulsively upon
his brow, his eyes, full of savage but impotent fury, were fixed upon
the detective; but this emotion soon passed away and yielded to a
vague, bewildered expression, as he sank back into his seat, overcome
by the feelings which oppressed him.

[Illustration: "_His eyes full of savage but impotent fury were fixed
upon the detective._"]

The attorneys, stolid and immovable, gazed at this unexpected
apparition, but long practice in their profession had enabled them to
conceal their emotions, however powerful the influence, and, except
the first start of surprise, no outward indication was given of their
astonishment at the appearance of the detective or their chagrin at
the duplicity of their client.

The detective, calm and imperturbable, and apparently unconscious of
the important part he was playing in this sad drama, stood there
immovable, the perfect immobility of his face undisturbed by the
consternation of counsel or the confusion of the prisoner.

Under the examination of the State's attorney, he told his story in a
firm, deliberate manner, that carried conviction to the minds of all.
He detailed the various experiences of his prison life and of his
intercourse with the prisoner. He related the admissions which
Bucholz had made to him, and testified to the influence which he had
gradually acquired over the mind of the accused man.

He graphically described their several interviews, and finally he
detailed at length the finding of the money of the murdered man,
hidden in the places to which Bucholz had directed him.

The silence in the court-room was most impressive. The crowded
audience who had at first been amazed at the appearance of the
detective, now leaned eagerly forward in their intense desire to hear
each word that was spoken. The judges listened intently as the
well-chosen sentences, fraught with so much importance to the cause
of justice, fell from his lips.

The eager, exulting ring of the voice of the State's attorney as he
conducted the examination, and the low, modulated tones of the
witness as he gave the damaging answers, seemed to affect all
present, and, with their eyes riveted alternately upon the witness
and the prisoner, they listened breathlessly as he related his
convincing story.

William Bucholz, after the first exhibition of his emotions, sat
silent and apparently stunned during the whole of the rendering of
this testimony. His eyes were fastened upon the detective witness,
but no movement of the muscles of his face betrayed the despairing
thoughts within. Silently he sat there--his arms folded across his
chest, with cheeks blanched and eyes staring straight forward toward
the witness-stand.

Already he sees the hand of impending fate, and as this unexpected
web of circumstantial and positive evidence is being slowly and
systematically woven about him, the shadow of the gallows falls upon
him, and yet he makes no sign. The resolute will and inflexible
nature sustain him firmly under this trying ordeal.

As Ernest Stark related the finding of the hidden wealth of the
murdered man which he had secured, an involuntary exclamation of
surprise burst from the assembled listeners, and when he had finished
his story a sigh of apparent relief escaped them.

The testimony of the detective had occupied a day and a half in its
rendition, and upon the opening of the court upon the succeeding day,
the haggard look of the prisoner told unmistakably of the sleepless
vigil of the night before. His lips remained sealed, however, and no
one knew of the agony of his mind.

Upon the conclusion of the detective's testimony, the money which had
been found in the old barn was exhibited in evidence, and, as the
earth-soiled pocket-books and the great roll of notes were displayed,
eager eyes watched their production. It was the price of a human
life, and another life hung trembling in the balance because of it.

Robert A. Pinkerton was called, and confirmed the statement of Ernest
Stark with regard to the midnight visit to the barn and the finding
of the money.

Paul Schmoeck and another attache of the German Consulate identified
the notes produced, and also testified as to its safe-keeping since
it had been so miraculously unearthed.

Two important witnesses were now introduced, who proved beyond a
doubt that this money was upon the person of Henry Schulte upon the
night of the murder. This evidence was necessary, because the
sagacious attorneys for the prisoner had already invented a plan of
defense, at once ingenious and able. There had existed hitherto no
proof that this money which had been found in the barn was in the
possession of the murdered man at the time of the tragedy, and
Bucholz might only be the thief who had robbed his master during his
absence, and not the criminal who had imbrued his hands in his blood.

Henry Bischoff and his son, prominent German bankers, and dealers in
foreign exchange, distinctly remembered the visit of Henry Schulte to
their banking house upon the day on which the murder was committed.
The father identified some of the notes which had been found in the
first package as those which had been given him in exchange for mark
bills, and the son identified the gold pieces which had been
unearthed with the second package as those which he had given to Mr.
Schulte upon that day. Both pocket-books must therefore have been
upon the person of Henry Schulte as he walked home upon that winter's
night accompanied by his trusted servant who had robbed and murdered
him.

The clothing of the accused man, which he had worn upon that night,
and which had been secured immediately after the occurrence of the
tragedy and legally retained, were also introduced and identified.
The shirt contained spots of blood, and the pantaloons also displayed
evidences of the same crimson fluid.

The prosecution then closed their case, and the defense began.

Undismayed by the convincing character of the testimony which had
been given, the attorneys for Bucholz labored diligently and ably to
explain away the damaging proofs which had been adduced.

Their cross-examination of the witness who had been known to them as
Edward Sommers had been very light; they had not attempted to impeach
his veracity or to question the truthfulness of his relations, and
while this was a matter of surprise to many at the time, the wisdom
of such a course soon became evident.

The principal witness for the State was to be used as a reliable
instrument in the hands of the defense, and the testimony of Edward
Sommers was to be relied upon to substantiate the theory by which the
attorneys for Bucholz hoped to delude the jury and to save their
client.

The finding of the money was admitted as the result of revelations
made by Bucholz to the detective, but they endeavored to prove that
though he might have robbed the old man, it was impossible for him to
have killed him.

It was contended upon the part of Bucholz, that the money was taken
from the pockets of the murdered man while Bucholz was assisting in
carrying the body to the house, and that he was enabled to do this
the more easily, because he alone knew where the old gentleman placed
the money which he carried about his person.

This theory was ingeniously suggested and ably argued, and several
minor points of evidence were adduced in support of it. The
blood-stains upon the clothing were also sought to be explained.
Those upon the shirt were alleged to have been produced from the
bleeding of the face of the prisoner who was wounded upon the same
evening, and the pantaloons, it was claimed, had received the stains
upon them from the blood which had dropped while Bucholz was
assisting the bearers to carry the corpse to the house after the
preliminary investigation by the coroner.

With rare skill were these theories presented, and with desperate
energy these able attorneys led the forlorn hope against the strong
fortress of conviction which seemed to enclose their unfortunate
client. The audience, the judges and the jury were profoundly
impressed, but they were not convinced.

The judge charged the jury, and before the force of his sound, legal
utterances, the airy castles which had been so ingeniously builded
fell to the ground, and the hopes of the prisoner and his friends
were buried in their ruins.

The case was handed to the twelve men, and many scrutinizing glances
were directed toward them as they slowly retired to deliberate upon
their verdict. Faint hopes were entertained of a disagreement, but
all felt that conviction would be but a natural result.

Slowly the crowd of spectators dispersed, as it became apparent that
no report would be received that evening, and many ladies, moved by
that latent sympathy which is usually manifested for great criminals,
approached the prisoner, and, together with their condolences,
bestowed upon him their offerings of flowers and fruits.

At twelve o'clock the next day--during a recess of the court--a loud
knock was heard upon the door which led to the jury-room. Instantly
every voice was hushed and every eye was strained to watch the
countenances of these arbiters of fate who slowly entered and took
their seats.

Bucholz was laughing gayly with some acquaintances, but he became
instantly serious--the smile died away from his lips, and he
anxiously awaited the announcement that was to convey to him the
blessing of life or the doom of death.

Slowly the jurors arose and faced the court.

"Gentlemen of the jury, have you determined upon your verdict?"

Breathlessly they all listened.

"We have."

These words fell like a thunderbolt upon the assembly. The prisoner's
face grew pale; he grasped the railing in front of him and gazed
wistfully at the jurors who stood beside him.

"Prisoner at the bar, stand up," said the clerk; and Bucholz arose
immediately, turning his pallid face toward the jury-box.

The gray-haired foreman, whose elbow almost touched the prisoner,
looked at him with a glance in which was depicted a sympathy, which,
while it was heartfelt and sincere, was not of sufficient force to
outweigh a conscientious discharge of duty.

"Gentlemen of the jury, how say you? Is the prisoner at the bar
guilty or not guilty?"

With trembling voice the venerable foreman said, slowly:

"Guilty of murder in the first degree!"

The guilty man fell back in his seat, as though he had been struck a
heavy blow, and bowing his head upon the railing, he sobbed wildly.

The trial was over. Justice had triumphed, and this crime-stained
man, who was now the object of so much attention, was decreed to pay
the penalty of his misdeeds.

The mystery of the murder of Henry Schulte had been judiciously
solved, and the detective had triumphed over the assassin.

CHAPTER XXXI.

_Another Chance for Life._--_A Third Trial._--_A Final Verdict._--_and
a Just Punishment._

Immediately upon the rendering of the verdict, the attorneys for
Bucholz moved for an arrest of judgment and filed their reasons for a
new trial.

After a delay of some weeks, an argument was had thereon. It was
contended among other things that one of the jurymen, during the
trial, and while they had not been confined, had spoken of the case
upon which he was engaged, and had expressed an opinion in regard to
the matter which he had been selected to determine.

Upon this fact being shown to the satisfaction of the judges, a new
trial was ordered, and the month of the succeeding February was fixed
as the time for the hearing of the same.

The second trial was had, and although the evidence adduced was the
same as upon the preceding occasion, or if anything stronger and more
convincing, the jury disagreed and were finally discharged.

A remarkable feature of this disagreement was the fact that upon the
final polling of the jury that was taken, the vote given was: For
murder in the first degree, nine; for murder in the second degree,
two; and for _absolute acquittal_, one.

Grave doubts were entertained of the influence which induced that
single vote, but in the absence of any proof to the contrary it must
be regarded as an honest opinion conscientiously given.

Another respite was thus afforded the unhappy prisoner, and the third
trial--now just completed--was fixed for the thirteenth day of April
in the present year.

Again the court has been convened, and the formality of a trial has
been gone through with. The jury have been sworn, the witnesses have
been examined and arguments have been made. Still, despite the
vigorous and persistent attacks that have been attempted, truth
prevails in the courts of law, and justice is triumphant.

After a laborious trial, lasting over three weeks, the jury have
rendered a verdict of "Guilty of murder in the second degree," and
the prisoner, standing tremblingly before the bar of justice, has
been condemned to "_imprisonment for life_."

After exhausting all the technicalities that could be devised, the
murderer of Henry Schulte will suffer the penalties of the law.

* * * * *

Again we will visit the prison and look within the narrow cell where
William Bucholz is confined. After a long struggle, fate has overtaken
him. The dark shadows of night have gathered over the gloomy walls of
the structure, and William Bucholz is now alone--the pale, thin face
and the sunken eyes tell the agonizing story of unending anxiety and
those sleepless vigils attendant upon the terrible state of uncertainty
through which he has passed, and the doom which he is now to suffer.

His hair is disordered and he wildly pushes it away from his temples,
as though its trifling weight added to the burden already resting
upon his brain. The veins stand out upon his temples--now almost
bursting with the intensity of the thoughts that have been crowding
upon him--and still they come, vivid and terrible.

Vainly he tries to seek that rest that will bring Nepenthe to his
dreams, but the specter of that murdered old man will arise before
his vision, and rest is impossible. Ah, how many long, weary days and
nights, fraught with terror and remorse, will come to this
unfortunate man ere he finds a final release and a bed of earth!

The miser of Hagen is avenged--and the murderer will suffer for his
crime.

THE END.

* * * * *

1882. 1882.

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