Holmes was a man of ordinary height with a full beard. His dress was in the latest fashion and his manners were faultless. In these respects there was nothing out of the way or peculiar. The casual stranger would not have taken a second look at the man. But it was the second look that would reveal the man's true character. He continually wore a smile that showed his teeth and gave his face a strangely revolting expression, once it became fixed in the mind. And his eyes seemed lit with a dark Satan light that occasionally changed slightly in the color as if he could control this aspect of his face at will.
Mrs. Pitezel shrank from the piercing look that Holmes directed at her. Her heart beat in sudden terror and she seemed ready to faint. Fear of the man took possession of her and her fright grew as she perceived that her husband seemed to have no will or desire apart from that of his new found acquaintance.
It is our duty here to record the appalling fact. B. F. Pitezel was a mesmeric subject under the power and control of Holmes. Holmes had hypnotized him. It was as if no B. F. Pitezel existed. Holmes had completely usurped his personality.
It is needless to say that the transactions undertaken in Fort Worth, resulted disastrously for Pitezel. It was not long before every dollar of his savings was gone. This fact had not dismayed poor Mrs. Pitezel. On the contrary, she reflected with satisfaction that her husband had been ruined. Now the devil in human form that had changed her husband from a man to a poor creature that obeyed every behest of his master would have no further object in holding the father of her children under his influence. Without money of what use could a victim be.
But alas, Holmes was not satisfied with merely impoverishing the man. A scheme had come into his fertile brain. At a favorable moment he imparted it to the unfortunate Pitezel. That the latter acceded to the proposition made must be taken as a matter of course. He could not do otherwise.
Holmes had ascertained that Pitezel was insured for $10,000 in the Fidelity Mutual Life Association. From that moment Ben Pitezel was doomed.
The proposition that Holmes made was this: Pitezel would disappear. He would leave his family, go to Philadelphia, secure a house in some remote corner of the town and engage in business in a small way under an assumed name. Here, after a sufficient time had elapsed he would disappear again, leaving a corpse in the house which corpse would be discovered and identified as that of B. F. Pitezel. They could then collect the insurance money and divide it.
Holmes instructed Pitezel to tell his wife all the details of the scheme so that she could hold herself in readiness to come to Philadelphia to indentify the body. Holmes knew that Mrs. Pitezel would not raise any formidable objections. So thoroughly terrorized was she by this fiend that she trembled at the very mention of his name with a nameless dread. She listened in silence to her husband's story and then threw herself before him on her knees.
"My God, Ben," she cried. "Don't you realize what you are doing? Don't you understand that we are being used by this villain like mere servants to do his bidding? He has robbed us; he has taken away every cent we possess. Now he wishes to take you from us also."
At this her husband brightened up a little and looked at his wife with a satisfied smile.
"He will pay every cent of it back Carrie," he said, "for he told me that he would, besides, think of the money we are going to make out of this insurance scheme. All the children shall have new dresses and I will get enough money to engage in business."
With a cry of despair Mrs. Pitezel struggled to her feet and left the room. In her agony she knew not which way to turn.
Suddenly an idea occurred to her which caused her to start with joy. Why not inform the police! She ran for her hat and shawl as though to prepare herself to go immediately but paused as another thought came to her. What would become of her husband should she inform the authorities that a robbery was being contemplated. Would not her husband be held equally guilty with Holmes? Would not Holmes with his shrewd misrepresentations throw the entire weight of the guilt upon his victim and perhaps upon his wife as well? Plainly, to protect her husband she must keep quiet. An expose would merely ruin him forever.
The poor woman fell to the floor with a cry of bitter anguish and swooned where she had fallen. When she came to, her husband was gone. All that told of his intentions was a note that he had written and left upon the table. It read as follows:
"My dear Carrie: I am going to Philadelphia tonight. My name there will be B. F. Perry. I shall live at 1316 Callohill Street. Tell the children I will be back in a week or so. Don't worry. Everything is going to turn out as I told you it would. Your loving Husband, Ben."
He was gone!
From that day to the present Mrs. Pitezel has not seen or heard from him.
Far into the night she sat thinking of the strange course of events in her life and wondering when the mystery would be solved. Would she ever see her husband again on earth?
She asked herself 'this question over and over again. She could not rid herself of the belief that the man found at 1316 Callohill Street in Philadelphia, was the corpse of her own husband and not one that had been substituted by the terms of the conspiracy.
As she sat in the silence of the apartment a sudden knock on the door startled her. She hesitated. Again the knock was heard, louder than before. Who could wish to see her at that hour? Had Holmes come to get her? Had he come to drag her away from home and children to view the dead body in Philadelphia, and make her swear that it was her husband? Or worse still, would she be compelled to look upon the dead that was her own? Would it be the face of her dead husband that would look upon her with its ghastly grinning countenance, while she, helpless and suffering would be forced to testify, terrorized and stricken dumb by the presence of the arch-fiend himself. It is not to be wondered that poor Mrs. Pitezel did not dare open the door at first. Such had been the strain upon her that it is a wonder she had not perished a maniac's death long since.
Again that knock! Like a summons to the infernal regions in the dead of the night it sounded upon her tortured ears.
But now the thought that Holmes stood there awaiting her, suddenly riveted her attention upon the door with an intensity that reached into every fiber of her being. Her face grew to the pallor of ashes, her eyes increased in size, and stared like a dead woman's, her limbs and body trembled and her breath came in irregular gasps. Slowly but surely some unseen power was dragging her step to the door. The picture of the man she imagined to be waiting, stood before her with his sinister smile and his strange greenish eyes piercing into her very soul with their peculiar fascinating power. She struggled to tear herself far from the influence that was surely compelling her against her will. She did not wish to open the door and rebelled against the thought. Still she crept inch by inch toward the spot from which she could not remove her eyes.
There was an additional knock. Louder this time.
With a big breath she put out her trembling hand, turned the knob and threw open the door. As she did so she raised her hands and cried with an outburst of emotion that showed her relief.
"Thank God it is not him! Thank God!"
"Not whom, Madame?" queried a figure in the darkness.
"Not-not-that-that being'!"
"What being?"
There was no reply to this question. Mrs. Pitezel calmed herself and said.
"What mission brings you here at this hour of the night?"
"I am an attorney," replied the man. "I have a very important matter that concerns you and which should be attended to immediately."
"What does it relate to?" asked Mrs. Pitezel, wonderingly.
"Your husband," replied the attorney. My name is Jeptha D. Howe, and I was sent here by Mr. H. H. Holmes."
At the mention of this dread name Mrs. Pitezel recoiled into the room. As she did so the attorney stepped through the door.
By the light of the lamp he was seen to be a young man between thirty and forty.
"I am instructed to say that your daughter Alice is
to accompany me to Philadelphia to identify the body of your husband who died at 1316 Callohill Street."
Completely overcome by the shock of this sudden announcement Mrs. Pitezel fell fainting into a chair. After she had revived sufficiently the attorney said.
"I think it would be expedient for you to accede to the suggestion made, for you are physically unfit for such a trial. '
The attorney's shrewd eyes had read Mrs. Pitezel correctly. So worn and wan had the experience of the last few months left her that she was actually on the point of dissolution at that moment.
In the Insurance Office
Little did poor Mrs. Pitezel think that when Alice left her roof in obedience to the command of the Monster that she would never see her daughter alive again on earth. Yet such was to be the case.
How fortunate that the grim events of the future are as a closed book to the helpless victim's of fate!
We leave Mrs. Pitezel at her home for a time, nearly prostrated by the weight of her woes, and follow Alice and the attorney to Philadelphia.
On the morning of September 21st, Mr. Howe left the place where he had secured quarters for himself and Alice and proceeded to the office of the Fidelity Mutual Life Association.
Alice was with him.
They were shown into the private office of Mr. Fouse, a kindly faced old gentleman whose eyes lit up with sympathy as he beheld the poor child that would be called upon to view the corpse that had been disinterred at Potters Field. He examined the card he held in his hand and he resumed the stern air of business that always characterized him.
"Your card states that you are Mr. Jeptha D. Howe of St. Louis."
"Yes sir," replied Mr. Howe. "I am here in the interest of Mrs. Pitezel whose husband was insured in your company. Mrs. Pitezel was too sick to come with me-in fact her condition is quite alarming. In her absence I present her daughter, Miss Alice Pitezel."
"How old is this girl?" asked Mr. Fouse, sharply.
"She is fourteen," replied Mr. Howe.
Mr. Fouse nodded his head in satisfaction.
"She is quite old enough to answer the purpose," he said. "But the ordeal will be a very trying one - very trying."
The tender light came into his eyes again as he continued.
"Would you be afraid to look at your dead papa, my child?"
Alice repressed a sob but bravely replied.
"No sir."
"That's right my dear," rejoined the kind-hearted president, "it will soon be over."
Turning to the attorney Mr. Fouse said.
"There are some slight formalities which must be gone over. The man who discovered the body of B. F. Perry or B. F. Pitezel as you claim it to be - is here. Before I call him in I wish to know just why Mr. Pitezel was living in Philadelphia, under an assumed name at the time of his death?"
"I am not familiar with that feature of the case," replied Mr. Howe. "But all information on that subject can be furnished by-”
"H. H. Holmes," said Mr. Fouse interrupting.
“Yes,” said the attorney in surprise. “Do you know him?”
Mr. Fouse nodded his head.
“Mr. Holmes is here to help identify the body,” said he. “He informed me that he was intimately acquainted with Mr. Pitezel and knows all the essential facts about him. You are acquainted wit him, I presume?”
“Not very closely,” replies Mr. Howe. “I had a little business with him in connection with this case and that is all. He appears to be very intimate with the Pitezel family.”
Mr. Fouse, at this point, looked at his watch.
“Mr. Smith and Mr. Holmes promised to be here at this hour, he said. “They will be in at any moment.”
“Ah,” exclaimed Mr. Fouse, “Here they are now. Show them in.”
The attendant disappeared and immediately afterward two men stepped over the threshold of the apartment. One them was a quiet, honest looking man who had the appearance of a mechanic. This was Mr. Eugene Smith who had discovered Pitezel’s body at 1316 Callohill Street. The other man was none other than the archfiend, the monster of monsters himself – H. H. Holmes.
Alice threw a terrified glance at Holmes and shrank from him instinctively. Mr. Fouse arose.
“This is Mr. Howe, acting as attorney for Mrs. Pitezel, - Mr. Holmes.”
The attorney and Holmes shook hands.
"I know Mr. Howe by reputation," said Holmes with a soft smile. "And I felt perfectly safe in sending him to Mrs. Pitezel."
The strange interest that Holmes seemed to be taking in this affair roused the suspicions of the president at this point, but he remained silent. Addressing the man Eugene Smith, he said:
"Now Mr. Smith, I wish you to tell us as accurately as you can all the circumstances of finding this body that we are going to examine at Potter's Field."
The first words seemed to startle the man addressed. He was in an abstracted mood and kept glancing at Holmes as though struggling to remember him. Seating himself and clearing his throat Mr. Smith began.
"I am a carpenter by trade but I have always been of an inventive turn of mind and among the little devices I have created, is a saw-set which I think possesses great merit. I was convinced that if put on the market it would sell.
"In the latter part of August, I was passing along Callohill Street when I noticed a sign over a doorway. The sign read: "B. F. Perry, patents bought and sold." I went into the place and was met by a tall rawboned man with a sharp face. I told him about my saw set and he listened with attention and when I had finished asked me to fetch him a model. I promised to do so and left the place."
"The next day when I went back with the model Mr. Perry expressed himself as pleased with it and predicted heavy sales, once we got the thing started. He also stated that he wished to have some work done about the establishment in the carpenting line and engaged me to do it.
"While attending to this matter a strange man came into the store -”
At this point Smith stopped. A wild expression came into his eyes. He stared before him like a man possessed. Mr. Fouse adjusted his glasses and said with a mystified air.
"What is the matter?"
"Nothing," said Smith drawing a big breath. "I was merely trying to remember what comes next."
This was not the truth, as Smith stared before him all the time he was speaking. And the direction of his gaze was Holmes.
"I say that one day," resumed Smith, slowly, "a man came in who…”
Again he paused, apparently stricken dumb by some unknown power. The eyes of H. H. Holmes were riveted like twin demons upon the face of the narrator. Whatever was remarkable about the personage that Smith tried to tell about he could not summon his speech to describe it!
"What man was this that came in?" demanded Mr. Fouse.
Smith tried to begin a description. But his tongue was as if paralyzed. Finally he managed to say.
"Oh, well, two or three parties came in while I was there. They must have been merely peddlers of some kind. At any rate they did not remain long and I do not think I would ever be able to indentify them."
An approving smile, unobserved by the others seemed to shape itself upon Holmes' countenance. Smith now continued without interruption.
"On the afternoon of Monday, September 3rd, I called again at the establishment conducted by Perry. I wished to see if my patent was meeting with the sales we expected. When I entered the store I noticed that it was vacant. Neither did any one seem to be in the room that adjourned. I thought that Perry might have stepped upstairs on some errand or other and so I sat down to wait until he should return. I was sure that he was somewhere about for I noticed the hat and coat he usually wore hanging on a peg. On another peg, next to these were his cuffs. I waited for half an hour but saw no other signs of Perry than those mentioned. At length I concluded that I would not wait any longer so I left, closing the door behind me.
"The next day I returned. Everything in the store was just as I had seen it the day before. The place w
as deserted. On those pegs hung the articles I had noticed on Monday, just as I had seen them. I called several times as loud as I could, but got no response. Thinking that Perry might have stepped out on some trivial errand or other I went next door and asked a woman there if she had seen Perry. She said that she had not, but that I might find him around the corner at a saloon where he was in the habit of going, frequently. I followed her directions and went to the saloon. He was not there. The proprietor knew him but said that he had not been in for some days. Considerably puzzled I returned to the store. He had not returned. I called again. No response. Then I concluded that I had better investigate. I went up to the second floor. There was nothing in the room but an empty cot. I turned and looked into a back room. There I saw a sight that froze my blood. The sun was shining brightly into the room and directly in the center of the field described by the sunlight lay-a corpse, a hideous object with its head to the door and its face all putrid and decaying.
"I rushed from the place and hurried to the nearest police-station. I secured two officers and we returned to Perry's, stopping on our way to get a physician.
"We examined the body and found that it was much decomposed. The left arm was extended along the left side, the right lay peacefully across the breast. But the man must have died a horrible death for the left side of the breast had been horribly burned and the mustache on one side and the forelock of hair was singed. A fluid stained with blood was oozing from the mouth.
“At the side of the body lay the fragments of a large bottle which had been shattered by an explosion of the contents and which also had killed the man we had found dead."
There was a momentary silence in the office at the end of this recital. But methods of business do not pause to gratify emotions. Mr. Fouse coughed slightly and said briskly.
"Peculiar affair, very peculiar. Ahem. Now, Mr. Holmes you say that you can identify the remains?"
"If they are not too much decomposed," returned Holmes calmly.
Confessions of the Serial Killer H.H. Holmes (Illustrated) Page 21
