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Updated: May 3, 2025
Beard should discharge the servants, please call me up at Police Headquarters." "Yes, sir," promised the butler. Britz donned his hat and coat. "Come on, Greig," he called to his assistant. "We're going to Delmore Park." Outside, they found the newsboys shrieking the crime. The afternoon papers had worked themselves into typographic frenzy over it.
My son, Woronzow Greig, had been educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, and was travelling on the Continent, when Somerville and I received an invitation from the Principal, Dr. Whewell, to visit the University. Mr. Airy, then astronomer at Cambridge, now Astronomer-Royal at Greenwich, and Mrs.
I have already solved that." Greig stared at his superior in undisguised amazement. "Why er how was it done?" he stammered. In reply, Britz produced the needle which he had found at the feet of the murdered man. "Examine this and see if it doesn't solve the puzzle," he said. Greig looked a long while at the long, thin, glistening instrument.
Greig of Canandaigua, acting for the Ogden Company, was holding a council with a view to purchase some of the smaller Indian reservations, lying along the Genesee river, he was opposed step by step, by the persistent efforts of Red Jacket. Yet notwithstanding the opposition, Mr. Greig was successful in securing the extinguishment of their title, to about eighty thousand acres of their land.
It was a long darning needle, and the detective, after examining it an instant under the electric light, slipped it into a leather card case. He did not mention what he had found to the coroner, when the latter returned. "Greig," said Britz to his bulky companion, "go out and fetch a step-ladder. Let us examine the walls and ceiling."
Manning and Greig exchanged significant looks. Evidently the same question had flashed across their minds. Were Ward and Mrs. Collins in a conspiracy to kill Whitmore? As if divining what was in their minds, Britz proceeded to answer their unspoken query. "To attribute the crime to Mrs. Collins or Ward, or to both of them," the detective said, "it is first of all necessary to find a motive.
The motive remains a mystery to this day, for it was not robbery. The youngest died in childhood. The eldest was Woronzow Greig, barrister-at-law, late Clerk of the Peace for Surrey.
My sister had married Andrew Murray, an apparently prosperous man, in 1841, but the protecting of the Government bills bought for remitting to England, and other causes, brought down every mercantile firm in Adelaide except A. L. Elder, who had not been long established; and Murray & Greig came down too. Mr.
Britz, pursuing the search with the help of Greig, put an occasional question to the secretary, but the almost invariable reply was a non-committal shrug of the shoulders. "Since you won't tell us anything about Mr. Whitmore, kindly inform me where you spent the morning?" demanded Britz. "Up to ten o'clock I was in this house," the secretary replied.
Collins's arrest spread through the big police building and in few minutes Britz was besieged by importuning reporters. He waved them aside and entered his private office where he was joined by Manning and Greig. "Well, Britz, you've certainly given the newspapers a sensation," observed the chief. "But it's going to be damned hard to convict a woman!"
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