Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1903-09-11
DAILY SHORT STORY
A Queer Case
IOrfgInaI.1

mined to take a stroll in the park.
sauntered about aimlessly, looking at
other saunterers and putting a cigar.
while night was, giving place to twi-
light Noticing crowd collected near
one of the little thickets with which the
park abounds, 1 went to see what at
tracted it Pushing my way forward,
l saw a young woman lying on her
back, pale and rigid. She had just been
discovered in the thicket, dead. She
had been murdered.
d, The moment l looked at her 1t
seemed that l had seen her before.
Indeed, the face was quite familiar.
Nevertheless 1 could not connect her
features with those of any human be-
ing l had ever known.
/ had been travelling in Europe short
ly before this, and had left my family
in Florence, Italy. One day 1 received
from my daughter one of the pictorial
postal cards so much used abroad, and
what was my establishment to see on it
the picture of the girl who had been
murdered. For awhile l was more
puzzled than ever, but suddenly it oc-
Cured to me that it was the picture
on the postal card that had seen be-
fore, and not the girl herself. While
in Florence 1 had written several mes
sages on these cards.
1 expected to go over soon to bring
my family home. l therefore went to
the superintendent of police and told
him of the matter, offering to investi-
gate it when in Italy. He availed him
self of my services, informing me, by
the way, that he had no clew to the
murderer. since the woman had only
been in New York q short time and
no one in this country seemed to have
any motive for killing her.
AS soon as 1 reached Florence 1 went
to the place where the postal card was
made and after a good deal of investi
CATION was informed that the picture
was that of n young italian girl who
had been selected from a number of
competitors TO sit as a model for pic
ture to adorn the card. That is all the
l got from the card manu-
facturers, but the police soon found out
for me that the girl was Liza Maroni,
or Signora Andrlano, she having mar
ried Andriano soon after having her
picture placed on the postal card. 1t
was reported that her husband had
treated her badly and she had left him.
This was as far as the Italian police
carried the case. SignOra
Andriano was not in Florence, but as to
where she was there was no informa-
ton. Andriano also had left the city
some time after the departure of his
wife, and his whereabouts were not
IL, ia, Il,
tanned in this connection was a photo
graph of AndrianO which was found in
the possession of one of his friends to
whom the police went for information.
The photograph was given to me for
the chief of police in New York.
When 1 returned to America 1 called
on the superintendent, gave him what
1 had collected and the
He thanked me, remark
ing at the same time, "If the man is in
America we shall find him."
He had q number of copies made of
the photograph which he gave to per
sons who were instructed to look
among the Italians in New York. He
also sent the copies to the superin-
tendents of police in different cities.
Six months later the superintendent of
police in Philadelphia wrote that one
Of his agents had discovered q man.
whose face was identical with the pho
but the name was not the
same.
The case progressed no further for a
long while. The man was watched,
but no suspicious circumstances no
ticed. He was a dealer in Italian table
oils and wine and of good standing
among the Italian colony of the Quaker
City. He had been recently married,
and by getting the date it was found
that the wedding took place three
weeks after the murdeR of the woman
whose picture graced the postal card.
The police instructed the letter carrier
who brought the suspected man his
letters to watch for mail sent to him
under another name than the one he
bore. For nearly a year no suspicious
letter came, when at last the postman
reported one addressed to the street
and number bearing the name of An
drianO. The letter was opened and
found to be from a mother to her son.
The police now considered that they
were well on the track of the murderer.
They waited awhile for more points,
then concluded to arrest the man. They
were too late. The bird had flown. He
and his wife had locked up their house
and gone away in the night.
One morning, taking up my newspa-
per, 1 read that Philippe Vertuci, an
Italian, had died the previous day and
ON his deathbed confessed that he had
killed woman who had been some
time before found murdered in Cen
trail park. She had left Italy with him,
leaving husband there, and had lived
with him in New Orleans as his wife
There she had left him, and he had
come to New York to induce her to join
him again. During an alteration in a
retired spot In the park he had stabbed
her.
Soon after this the man, who had
in Philadelphia, returned
~ a