"By what marks can you identify?" continued the president.
Holmes closed his eyes a moment and said:
"In a general way I could tell by the height and general formation of the body. He was a man, nearly six feet high, always thin in flesh and weighing from one hundred and forty-five to one hundred and fifty-five pounds. He had very black and somewhat coarse hair, very thick with no tendency towards baldness; his moustache was a much lighter color and had a red tinge, though I have seen him have it colored black at times which gave him quite a different appearance. I remember also that he had some trouble with his knees causing them to be somewhat enlarged directly below or in front of the same, as a result of floor laying when he was in the contracting business, but whether this was a temporary or permanent affair I am unable to state. He also had some sort of a warty growth on the back of his neck, which prevented him from wearing a collar while working. Aside form these points I can think of nothing to distinguish him from other men, unless it be that his forehead was lower than the average and crown of head higher.
"I can also say that the man's teeth were very peculiar. They were much decayed and I do not remember while he was working for me, that he ever had them attended to, although he was often compelled to cease work on account of the trouble they gave him."
From the lips of the smooth tongued fiend these words fell like the sober statements of an honest man. None present doubted him.
Turning towards Alice Mr. Fouse inquired.
"Do you think that you would know your papa's teeth if you saw them again?"
"Yes, sir," replied Alice, quivering.
"Very well," replied the president. "We will go to the Potters Field this afternoon. All who are present will accompany us and there will be the coroner and some other officials besides. Report here at 2:30."
With these words President Fouse rose and bowed to signify that the interview was at an end.
The Dead House
At the appointed time the party that was to visit Potters Field on the grizzly mission already indicated, was gathered at the office of the Fidelity Mutual Life Association. Besides Alice Pitezel and Holmes, there was Howe, the attorney, the coroner, his physician and Inspector Perry of the Philadelphia police force.
Carriages were obtained and the persons referred to were swiftly driven to the cemetery. They proceeded swiftly to the pauper burying ground, known as Potters Field, which is set apart from the place where people in good circumstances bury their dead. On a corner of this field stands the ghastly edifice known as the "Dead House." In this building awaiting the examination lay the body of B. F. Pitezel. It had been torn from its last resting place and once more dragged into the turmoil of human life and contention. Not even in Potters Field would the mortal remains of the poor victim be allowed to rest unprotected. It is indeed sad to witness a persecution that follows the unfortunate object even into the very grave!
The visiting party was soon grouped about the table that stood in the center of the grim light of the charnel house. Upon this table covered with some sort of oilcloth lay the disinterred corpse.
To the thoughtfulness of President Fouse was due the exclusion of Alice Pitezel from the trying scene for the time being. He argued that it was unnecessary to subject her young nerves to the strain, she could be called when needed. Therefore Alice remained in an anteroom until it was time to assist in identifying her father. Meanwhile the group about the corpse proceeded with its horrible task. First the covering was thrown back from the body, revealing a sight that would have chilled the hearts of less susceptible people than these grim and business-like men of the world. It seemed to have very little resemblance to a human being, lid this formless mass of decaying matter.
The coroner slowly drew on his rubber gloves and approached the table. With cold methodical movements he began to cut away the clothing that clung to the corpse, in order to expose the parts where the marks were supposed to be. The ghastly work did not proceed fast enough to suit Holmes. He stepped forward and took the knife from the coroners' hand.
"Let me do the work," he said affably. "I have had much experience at this sort of thing and I can determine much more quickly than you can, whether this is really the body of B. F. Pitezel or another man."
The coroner smiled his consent. It may well be believed that he had no liking for the terrible task of cutting the rotten flesh. He handed Holmes his rubber gloves and the author of the scene slipped them over his hands. Then with deft and skillful maneuvering he turned the body over upon its face, a task that was by no means easy as there was danger of the disintegrated tissues breaking apart.
"Now then hand me the surgeon's knife," he said, calmly. The knife was passed to him.
All the time he wore upon his countenance that cold contemptuous smile that had a most horrible significance as it leered upon the poor remains of B. F. Pitezel.
With a few swift passes he removed the garments from the neck and shoulders, only disturbing the flesh where it clung to the clothing. With a gesture of satisfaction he exclaimed.
"Ah! I was afraid they might have dug up the wrong body."
"What was that?" asked Mr. Fouse. "The wrong body?"
"Certainly," replied Holmes, coolly. "These bodies are very likely to be mixed in Potters Field. The fact that the body is that of Pitezel, shows the right corpse was disinterred."
"How can you tell that this is Pitezel's body?" demanded Mr. Fouse.
"Let me have a little water and I will show you," said Holmes with a careless air.
The water was brought to him in a basin. Taking up a sponge the cold-blooded wretch washed away the encumbering mass of flesh about the neck and soon brought a slight protuberance into prominence. With the knife he cut away this protruding substance and laid it upon the table. "There you see, is the warty growth that I noticed on the back of his neck. Examine the thing with your glasses and see whether the flesh is of that character."
The coroner did as requested. When he stood erect, after bending over the mass a few moments, he said:
"Unquestionably, that must have been a warty growth on the back of the dead man's neck."
Holmes then succeeded in turning the body back to its original position, in the same manner as before he cut away the cloth about the knees of the body, and exposed them to view.
"You will observe the appearance of the man's knees," he said. "They seem to be enlarged, exactly in the manner I spoke of at the office."
"True," said Mr. Fouse, after making an examination.
"I also observe that there is a bruised nail on the thumb exactly like one that Pitezel had," continued Holmes, who was now, diligently working on the upper part of the body. As he spoke he cut the thumbnail in question from the hand of the corpse and handed it to the coroner.
"I would preserve all these parts in Alcohol," said Holmes, "as they could readily be recognized by the dead man's acquaintances should there be any further question as to his identity."
"The testimony seems to be complete enough," said Mr. Fouse.
Continuing he said in a lower voice: "At the same time I must request the young girl in the next room to look at the teeth of the corpse. Cover up these parts of the body and leave only the mouth exposed."
The body was again concealed in the manner described and the signal was given for Alice to enter.
Every eye was directed upon her pale face and streaming eyes as she advanced to take the last look at her parent that would ever be vouchsafed her on earth. Ah, what a scene was this to come into her young life. How that terrible spectacle must have torn her tender soul with anguish as she gazed.
"My poor child," said Mr. Fouse, gently. "Tell me, do you recognize the teeth you see before you?"
"They - they are papa's," sobbed the horror-stricken child.
"That is enough," exclaimed Mr. Fouse with a sigh of relief. "Take her to the carriage."
Holmes who had removed the coroner's gloves and laid aside the knife now came forw
ard.
"I beg to be allowed to care for the young lady," he said. "I know that her mother would be glad to know that she is my charge."
The little party looked at each other in doubt, but no one interposed any objections to Holmes' proposition.
Taking the child by the arm the archfiend led her out of the charnel house and placed her in his carriage. Mr. Fouse and Mr. Howe followed talking together. Holmes leaned over the wheel as he took up the reins and said:
"Alice and I will meet you in the morning, Mr. Howe, and make affidavit to be presented to the insurance company."
"Very well," said Mr. Howe. "Mr. Fouse says that he will give me a check tomorrow."
"Do you hear that Alice, dear?"' cried Holmes gaily.
"Your mamma is about to receive ten thousand dollars in money! Won't that be nice?"
And with the laugh of a fiend he cut the horses with his whip and they dashed away.
"That man is a queer individual," said Mr. Fouse. "I can't say that I like him."
The attorney was silent.
More Deviltry Contemplated
In her humble home at St. Louis, Mrs. Pitezel awaited tidings from her departed child. Alas none came. All the letters that Alice had written were intercepted by Holmes, the monster, who never allowed the girl to leave his clutches once he had them upon her.
One morning in September, a knock at the door called her from her household duties, which she still attended to in spite of the illness that was dragging her down. Hastening to open the door she was greeted by her attorney, Jeptha D. Howe.
"You have returned already?" cried Mrs. Pitezel joyfully.
"Where is Alice?"
The attorney smiled affably and said:
"She is in the best of care. Mr. Holmes has her in charge."
"Holmes!" cried the poor woman. "Alice with Holmes!"
"Why yes," said Howe; "Are you not pleased?"
With an effort at self-control that succeeded, Mrs. Pitezel, said:
"I would rather have Alice at home than in the charge of anyone else."
"No doubt," responded Mr. Howe. "No doubt-but you need not worry any about your daughter. In fact you need not worry much in this world about anything. I bring with me the check of the Fidelity Mutual Life Association for seventy-two hundred dollars.
"All expenses have been deducted."
"It is my husband's life insurance money!" gasped Mrs. Pitezel.
Mr. Howe bowed.
"The company paid the claim without a question," he said. "Now if you will kindly sign a receipt for this amount I will turn it over to you and my connection with the affair will be at an end."
A few moments later Mr. Howe was gone and Mrs. Pitezel stood like one dazed in the middle of the floor, staring at the check she held in her hand. As she stood there fingering the piece' of paper that entitled her to this little fortune the tears came into her eyes, unbidden. So this was to be the pay for all her bitter suffering, for the long weeks of doubt and anguish while trembling for the safety of her husband. And now that the scheme to defraud the company had succeeded and she held the reward in her hand, why did she not receive instructions from her husband concerning the spot where she was to meet him as agreed to before his departure. Could it have been possible that he had not been killed, after all? Had they really succeeded in substituting a corpse according to the plan arranged? How gladly would she have surrendered every cent of the sum that had been handed her, could she but look once more upon the face of the man that had been dearest to her of all the world.
A sudden desire to see and speak to Holmes took possession of her, for he, more than anyone in the world could tell her of the whereabouts of her poor Ben. But where could she go to find him?
Suddenly there was a step in the hall that she recognized. How well she knew that strange stealthy, cat-like tread. An impulse to scream seized her. She choked it in her throat with the greatest difficulty. The step approached. She thought of her children and made a movement as if to go to their protection. Suddenly a soft, insinuating knock was heard upon the door.
It was the knock of the fiend himself - the peculiar signal by which he was fond of announcing himself. It was Holmes.
So horrible did the thought of Holmes appear to Mrs. Pitezel that she forgot for the moment that he would bring her news of Ben and restore her cherished Alice to the family circle. She trembled were she stood, like an aspen. But suddenly reason returned and she realized that the being she loathed could give her tidings from her dear ones.
She sprang to the door with a single bound and threw it open.
Holmes crossed the threshold and stood before her.. He was alone.
"Where is Ben?" cried Mrs. Pitezel, desperation giving her courage. "Where is Alice?"
Before the intense gaze of this honest woman, the guilty wretch quailed like a coward. But suddenly there was a change in his demeanor, for, woman-like the tears welled into Mrs. Pitezel's eyes as she gazed upon the author of her miseries and she sank upon her knees before him with a wailing cry, as of the lost soul.
"Give them back to me," she said piteously." Have mercy on us! Give them back!"
The sight of his helpless victim, thus prostrated, reassured the villainous Holmes. All his cunning returned to him.
"Do not be alarmed," he said, with his characteristic smile. "Your husband and child are safe - perfectly safe."
"Safe!" cried Mrs. Pitezel with a gleam of hope.
"Safe!"
"Yes - safe," repeated the scoundrel. "Ben is alive and well in Montreal. He is happy over the success of our scheme. Everything is going to turn out all right."
"Ben in Montreal!" cried Mrs. Pitezel joyfully. "I will go to him, we will start to-night."
"No!" replied Holmes, sternly. "Remember the insurance company may still be suspicious. We may all be under the surveillance of detectives. If you were to go 'to your husband now we would all be arrested within a week!" At these words Mrs. Pitezel sank down in despair.
"Why did he ever consent to that terrible scheme," she cried. "To be hounded by the police - to be separated by hundreds of miles, perhaps never to speak to each other again! Oh, where is the profit that could compensate for such fearful sacrifices!"
"Only be patient," said the villain softly," and Ben will be with you again. But if you do not follow my directions and keep your mouth shut and your head cool we will all be sent to jail! Remember that."
"I will try to be cool," replied Mrs. Pitezel. "But the meeting with my husband must not be too long delayed. There is a limit to human endurance."
Holmes put his handkerchief to his face to conceal a scowl. Beneath his breath he hissed the words:
"How shall I get rid of her!"
Mrs. Pitezel continued.
"I suppose that Alice stopped on the first floor to see some of the girl friends. I wish you had made her come upstairs with you."
"Alice did not come to St. Louis with me," said Holmes. "It would not do."
"What do you mean?" cried the poor woman in dismay.
"Don't you understand that the family is going to be closely watched?" said Holmes impatiently.
"The children know altogether too much. They must not be left together to talk. The family must separate."
"Separate!" cried Mrs. Pitezel wildly.
"Yes, until the incident is forgotten."
"Great Heaven! Have I done anything to deserve such punishment as this!" cried the poor woman. "Would you tear my children from me."
"Only for the present," said Holmes, mopping his brow. "In a few months all will be well again. In the meantime if you leave the matter to me your husband and your children will be nicely taken care of. And if you, do not leave the matter to me it is probable that your husband will be thrown into a prison-cell and a stigma cast upon the little ones for life."
It never occurred to Mrs. Pitezel to question the truth of these terrible words. She believed her husband to be alive. This alone did considerable to relieve her of
the torturing thoughts of the past few weeks.
Seeing that he had obtained a victory-partially, at least -over the doubts of Mrs. Pitezel, Holmes went on.
"I left Alice at Covington, Ky., in charge of a nice old lady who will attend to every want the child may have and keep up her schooling besides. I know that when Alice writes home and tells you all, that you will be glad to know that she has the good fortune to be placed in such competent hands."
" When that letter comes to me from Alice," said Mrs. Pitezel, "I will be satisfied."
Holmes turned away to conceal a look of exultation. He had really placed Alice in the care of an old lady in Covington. But the sequel will show that she did not long remain there.
The Fiend’s Dream
The mission that Holmes now set himself out to perform, was primarily to secure as much of the money Mrs. Pitezel had received from the insurance company as he possibly could without leaving her utterly without resources. He was shrewd enough to perceive that Mrs. Pitezel by this time was scarcely in condition to earn her living. The poor woman, indeed, was so distracted that it was difficult for her to perform the most ordinary duties in her own house. Consequently Holmes termed it expedient to allow her to retain just enough to keep her alive without being dependent on what she could earn. But how to secure the money without rousing her suspicion? An ordinary criminal might consider this a difficult task but not so H. H. Holmes. He had the most implicit confidence in his ability to take as much of the money as he liked. He was always prepared for such a task. He had only one difficulty. There were so many ways of despoiling this defenseless woman of all her possessions that Holmes was nonplused which to adopt. On the day of his return to St. Louis, and after the interview with Mrs. Pitezel, he remarked that he was quite tired out by travelling and asked whether Mrs. Pitezel would object if he laid down on the lounge for a few moments rest.
Little as she liked to have the man in the house, Mrs. Pitezel kindly gave her consent and the murderer - for such he was - was permitted to stretch himself out at his ease.
Confessions of the Serial Killer H.H. Holmes (Illustrated) Page 22
