Date: Fri 18-Dec-1998

Publication: Bee

Author: CURT

Quick Words:

Laslo-Zimmermann-crime-history

Full Text:

FROM THE CASE FILES OF DETECTIVE LASLO BRISCOE: Installment 14

By Andrea Zimmermann

Some embrace the many advances presented us by modernity, but those who do

tend to favor that which adds comfort to their lives. Although my own

curiosity extends beyond that which directly affects me, I cannot help but be

drawn to explore and command knowledge of any new device or method introduced

into my realm.

By example, there is the grand exhibition of Ringling Bros. and Barnum &

Bailey Combined Shows to be held in Waterbury next month. The biggest of all

amusement institutions, the circus now boasts an excess of 1,600 in personnel

including 800 of the world's premier riders, aerialists, gymnast and athletic

champions, 100 clowns, and more than 50 trainers and keepers alone for the

troupes of jungle animals exhibited in four steel arenas. The pachyderm number

43, and it is the first time in circus history that five herds of elephants

have been presented in a single display. One statistician who took a census at

the recent Madison Square Garden exhibition, announced a line would form two

miles long if it were possible to place shoulder to shoulder the Big Show's

people, horses, trained animals and thousand animals contained in its

menagerie.

Admittedly, with this form of entertainment a day may easily be passed. But my

interests are captivated not by the glitter, tricks, and athletic

accomplishments of the circus troupe; rather, I find it most intriguing to be

outside the tents where I can observe the gypsy society which requires 100

double-length railroad cars to transport it from city to city throughout the

country. I would gladly forego the trapeze artists' swinging display to see

how they abide in the most temporary of homes, what devices they use to ease

their work and by what methods they attract larger and larger crowds to their

show. I will arrive early to see them set up camp, and it is also my intent to

learn about the new 40 jumbo-electric fans operated by specially designed

dynamo sets that allow audiences cool and freshly filtered air throughout the

hours of performance.

We often identify transient people as a type without money, loyalties, or

favorable wit; but the troupe of the Greatest Show proves this impression is

not one to be relied upon.

No. 895 -- The Case of The Body Buried in the Wall

If I carry on about the circus society it is, perhaps, a means by which to

remove from my mind -- however temporarily -- the horror of the recent week.

Better to have learned of it at the Post Office or General Store, than to have

actually seen Herman Tiemann's dog bring to its master the mutilated portion

of an infant's body.

I had called on Tiemann about 8:30 Sunday morning, and as we stood outside his

front door we saw his dog playing with some object at a distance. We made the

gruesome discovery that he had in his jaws the upper portion of the body of an

infant child. I immediately notified Medical Examiner Kiernan, the coroner and

the state police at Ridgefield. While waiting for the state officer, Tiemann's

son, Robert, and I explored the property for clues and came upon the remainder

of the body where it had been secreted in a stone wall on the hill. It was

wrapped in pages from an issue of The New York Times dated September, and

apparently the body had been torn from its place of internment by an animal.

Kiernan was of the opinion that the body had been in the wall ten days or

thereabouts and was evidently a new-born infant. The remains were taken to the

morgue at Funeral Director Honan's.

Although we examined the scene thoroughly, none of us found any further clues

to the identity of the child or the person who placed its body in the wall. We

were unanimous in our supposition, however, that the responsible party must be

someone within the town and more or less familiar with local landmarks.

No. 902 -- The Case of the Disquieted Soul

I have never had the remotest impulse to form or join a society of private

investigators but, by nature, we are a lonely lot. Other professions have

their membership, I am well aware, but it seems somewhat untoward for men to

come together soley on the basis of commonality of physical attribute, such as

baldness.

I was reminded of this last week when it was made public that an acquaintance

of mine from Lakeville, Walter W. Norton, 55, shot himself in the head. It was

intentional -- the result, they say of insomnia -- and he chose a favorite

haunt by Lake Wononscopomuc to do the deed. But to leave as his legacy the

founding of the Bald Head Club of America (twice mentioned in his notice)

strikes me as the saddest part of this entire affair. What man would be known

by his beard or the size of his ears?

"Unable to sleep, going to end it all. You will find my accounts accurate,"

said the note found on the table in his room. Truth be told, it is less likely

insomnia drove him to suicide than the weight on his smooth head of

association with the club.

No. 913 The Case of the Wash and Wreck

It is assured Patrick Sweeney will be washing his own automobile from this day

forward. That is, he will when he replaces the one destroyed in a wild ride on

the Berkshire highway. Clarence Patterson and Norman Sperry of Berkshire, both

minors, were hired to wash Patrick Sweeney's car. When the job was finished

they took the car for a ride without permission and wrecked it. Both were

arrested and Patterson reaped the added charge of operating without a license.

Upon solicitation, I advised the parents to settle with Sweeney, which they

did immediately. Seeing this, Judge McCarthy suspended his fine of $50 each,

but charged Patterson $2 for being without a license, as well as court fees.

No. 918 -- The Case of the Shaken Chair

Late spring naturally draws citizens of Newtown from their homes, but all

seemed especially eager to get out and attend the recent three evenings of

justice court, none of which adjourned before midnight. Edward Mentz provided

a welcome distraction as he made his complaint against his former employer,

Wolf Bernstein.

Mentz had worked for Bernstein as a wood chopper and general farm hand. On May

9, 1924, Mentz told Bernstein he would work for him no longer; after supper

that evening, he demanded his pay. Mentz claims his employer assaulted him,

fracturing one of his ribs. Bernstein denies this and claims he only shook the

chair on which Mentz was sitting. Dr Kingman then testified about treating

Mentz for a fractured rib. If I were to put money on which horse would win, it

would be the one with the doctor in the saddle.