Part 44 (1/2)

”Todd?”

”Yes--Ernest E. Todd, of the Department of Justice. 'Extra Ernest,' they used to call him, because he'd never give up a job until he brought it in, neatly wrapped and ready for filing. More than one man has had cause to believe that Todd's parents chose the right name for him. He may not have been much to look at--but he sure was earnest.”

Take the Rockwell case, for example [Quinn went on, after a preliminary puff or two to see that his pipe was drawing well]. No one had the slightest idea that the Central Trust Company wasn't in the best of shape. Its books always balanced to a penny. There was never anything to cause the examiner to hesitate, and its officials were models of propriety. Particularly Rockwell, the cas.h.i.+er. Not only was he a pillar of the church, but he appeared to put his religious principles into practice on the other six days of the week as well. He wasn't married, but that only boosted his stock in the eyes of the community, many of which had daughters of an age when wedding bells sound very tuneful and orange blossoms are the sweetest flowers that grow.

When they came to look into the matter later on, n.o.body seemed to know much about Mr. Rockwell's antecedents. He'd landed a minor position in the bank some fifteen years before and had gradually lifted himself to the cas.h.i.+ers.h.i.+p. Seemed to have an absolute genius for detail and the handling of financial matters.

So it was that when Todd went back home on a vacation and happened to launch some of his ideas on criminology--ideas founded on an intensive study of Lombroso and other experts--he quickly got himself into deep water.

During the course of a dinner at one of the hotels, ”E. E.” commenced to expound certain theories relating to crime and the physical appearance of the criminal.

”Do you know,” he inquired, ”that it's the simplest thing in the world to tell whether a man--or even a boy, for that matter--has criminal tendencies? There are certain unmistakable physical details that point unerringly to what the world might call 'laxity of conscience,' but which is nothing less than a predisposition to evil, a tendency to crime. The lobes of the ears, the height and shape of the forehead, the length of the little finger, the contour of the hand--all these are of immense value in determining whether a man will go straight or crooked.

Employers are using them more and more every day. The old-fas.h.i.+oned phrenologist, with his half-formed theories and wild guesses, has been displaced by the modern student of character, who relies upon certain rules which vary so little as to be practically immutable.”

”Do you mean to say,” asked one of the men at the table, ”that you can tell that a man is a criminal simply by looking at him?”

”If that's the case,” cut in another, ”why don't you lock 'em all up?”

”But it isn't the case,” was Todd's reply. ”The physical characteristics to which I refer only mean that a man is likely to develop along the wrong lines. They are like the stars which, as Shakespeare remarked, 'incline, but do not compel.' If you remember, he added, 'The fault, dear Brutus, lies in ourselves.' Therefore, if a detective of the modern school is working on a case and he comes across a man who bears one or more of these very certain brands of Cain, he watches that man very carefully--at least until he is convinced that he is innocent. You can't arrest a man simply because he looks like a crook, but it is amazing how often the guideposts point in the right direction.”

”Anyone present that you suspect of forgery or beating his wife?” came in a bantering voice from the other end of the table.

”If you're in earnest,” answered the government agent, ”lay your hands on the table.”

And everyone present, including Rockwell, cas.h.i.+er of the Central Trust Company, placed his hands, palm upward, on the cloth--though there was a distinct hesitation in several quarters.

Slowly, deliberately, Todd looked around the circle of hands before him.

Then, with quite as much precision, he scanned the faces and particularly the ears of his a.s.sociates. Only once did his gaze hesitate longer than usual, and then not for a sufficient length of time to make it apparent.

”No,” he finally said. ”I'd give every one of you a clean bill of health. Apparently you're all right. But,” and he laughed, ”remember, I said 'apparently.' So don't blame me if there's a murder committed before morning and one or more of you is arrested for it!”

That was all there was to the matter until Todd, accompanied by two of his older friends, left the grill and started to walk home.

”That was an interesting theory of yours,” commented one of the men, ”but wasn't it only a theory? Is there any real foundation of fact?”

”You mean my statement that you can tell by the shape of a man's head and hands whether he has a predisposition to crime?”

”Yes.”

”It's far from a theory, inasmuch as it has the support of hundreds of cases which are on record. Besides, I had a purpose in springing it when I did. In fact, it partook of the nature of an experiment.”

”You mean you suspected some one present--”

”Not suspected, but merely wondered if he would submit to the test. I knew that one of the men at the table would call for it. Some one in a crowd always does--and I had already noted a startling peculiarity about the forehead, nose, and ears of a certain dinner companion. I merely wanted to find out if he had the nerve to withstand my inspection of his hands. I must say that he did, without flinching.”

”But who was the man?”

”I barely caught his name,” replied Todd, ”and this conversation must be in strict confidence. After all, criminologists do not maintain that every man who looks like a crook is one. They simply state and prove that ninety-five per cent of the deliberate criminals, men who plan their wrong well in advance, bear these marks. And the man who sat across the table from me to-night has them, to an amazing degree.”