, 1889-07-31
THE FATAL POTATO.

-One of the queerest cases l ever had, y
said the old detective, occurred some
thing over twenty years ago. Then |
still had much TO learn in my business,
and, fortunately for me, knew that !
had 1t was memorable as an ~illustra-
ton Of the importance Of small things,
and have pigeon holed it in my memory
Us the affair of the fatal potato
"A red headed servant girl, so scared
that her eyes stood out like Holsters,
rushed into the station house early one
morning. bowling that all the police
were wanted round at Mr.. Morton's.
The sergeant Mt he'd desk, s%upposing there
was probably just some row among tho
servants, grinned at the sight of her
and asked what was tho matter.
She gave a whoop Of 'murderr that
raised his hair and startled every one in
the station. The idea of murder in the
aristocratic mansion of Mr.. Samuel Nor
ton, on Fifth avenue, within five blocks
OF the station, naturally rather excited
us Two detailed men and myself
was then ward detective-ran around
there as quickly MS We could.
Sure enough, there had been n muir
der. The cook, n sturdy built, middle
aged Englishwoman named Harriet
Wardrop. lay on the kitchen floor, In
the back basement, with n dirty cotton
handkerchief twisted and knotted about
her neck, stone dead and quito cold.
When she had not sent up her employ
er's coffee, which he was accustomed 10
taking in bed, or answered the bell, the
red headed girl came down to see what
was the matter, and that was the plight
she found her in.
The last seen of Harriet alive was at
near 10 o'clock the night before, when
the two upstairs girls left TO go TO their
room in the attic. Her room was in the
basement, and she said that she was going
u bed In n few minutes. She had had
no visitor, never, indeed, had any, was
perfectly sober, and seemed to be always
n woman OF perfectly correct habits.
Really, however, not much was known
o her, further than that she had come
there from Philadelphia seven or eight
months before with good references, had
behaved herself well and made no con
fdantes. But she must have admitted
to the house the man who choked her.
There were no signs of any struggle,
and there had been no robbery. Her
gold watch was on the kitchen table, two
months wages In her pocket and no at
tempt seemed to have been made Mt
plumber in the still richer field up stairs.
Why had she been killed. 1t was mys-
terious. One of the cops with me was
SO puzzled hat he declared it must be a
case of suicide.
Il saw that h had been strangled,
and | wondered what a strong fellow the
murderer must nave been to have twist
ed, with fatal effect, so soft a band as a
handkerchief about so big and solid n
neck and TO do it so deity and power.
fully as to prevent an outcry or even Il
struggle. 1t takes a good deal of pres
sure to squeeze in a whole neck so tightly
us TO cause death.
But when / came to examine more
closely ! found hat n novel and inge-
NOUS device had been employed to make
the job easier. Folded into the handker-
chief and placed so that 1t would press
directly upon the windpipe, was a potato
about the size Of n hens egg. While
turning the tuber over In my hand, l
noticed that there were two deep curv-
ing cuts In its smooth, creamy skin, such
rs would be made by finger nails scratch
AAk H. alb ta1li bllO"Nu u III llllG Oh
blue color. At first | thought nothing
of that, for knew that some potatoes,
such MS the N~eshannocks, have delicate
skin of violet tint under the white out
side. But when l looked more carefully
] saw that this potato was not n Neshan-
mock. but an Early Rose, which-as l
soon proved by scratching it-had no
such colored second skin, inc | observed
that the blue color seemed to go deeper
than merely the surface.
who, ! asked myself, would be like
ly TO habitunlly carry under his finger
nails such an abundance of color as
would cave deposits like these? Well, a
dyer, for one. Yes, of course, n dyer;
but there were more dyers In the city,
for aught l know, han one could shake
n stick at, and it would be ridiculous to
seek n blue handed dyer, since hands
that were blue one day might be red or
green the next
The newspapers, the next day, in
their sensational treatment of tho Incl
dent, characterized it as a profound
mystery, and said that the police had
absolutely no clew to the murderer
A | had hoped, that encouraged
some person who had known Harriet
Wardrop to come forward. A small,
neatly dressed, respectable looking, mid
die aged man, with keen, furtive eyes
and an habitually ~deprecatory manner,
presented himself at the inquest. BE
came to see if the woman, whose death
he had read of in the morning paper,
was his wife, from whom he had sepa-
rated in Philadelphia a year before. and
had not seen oil heard from since His
name? John Wardrop. His occupationi
Dyer. Where did he work? With Henri
Detaille & Co.. Partisan dyers, on
Bleecker street, Yes. the dead woman
was his wife, lie recognized her per
fectly. an tho -i.-iS. ---ds I,i.., saan
Have you heard what Mr.. G. l.. Weast