The Scene at his Parting from his Wife and Children—Angry Throngs in Hoboken—Giving Away the Murdered Woman’s Watch—The Testimony.

Over in New York Martin Kenkowsky was closely watched. He was so agitated when he was led back to his cell on Thursday night, that Policeman Finerty was detailed to watch him, as it was feared he might attempt to kill himself. The policeman says that the prisoner was restless until after sunrise. At first he paced the cell like a caged animal, stopping now and then and pressing his face against the gate, his bloodshot eyes glaring through the trellis work. This continued several hours. Then, for the first time, he gave way to his feelings. He threw himself upon the floor and moaned piteously. Then he sprang up again, leaped to the gate, and tried to shake it. After that he again paced the cell, wringing his hands wildly and calling out German words which the policeman could not understand. Toward morning he became more quiet, but even when lying down he tossed about and did not sleep. Finerty says that Kenkowsky is one of the most powerful men he has seen; that when he tried to shake the cell gate he could see the muscles moving beneath his sleeves.

The news that the Guttenberg murderer had been captured spread rapidly in the neighborhood, and by eight o’clock in the morning some 400 persons were in Thirty-seventh street, pressing toward the police station and standing on either side of the station nearly all the way to Ninth and Tenth avenues. A little after 8 o’clock a woman with a young boy at her side and a little girl in her arms was seen trying to make her way through the crowd. Whenever it was so dense as to impede her progress she spoke a few words, and those in the immediate vicinity fell back and allowed her to pass. The boy was crying bitterly, but the woman’s features were firmly set, and the little girl, who seemed to be about 6 years old, was quiet. When the woman had made her way to the station door she hesitated a moment. Then she entered, dragging the boy, who seemed unwilling to follow, after her. She was the prisoner’s wife. People now began to climb upon some empty trunks near by, and even women with babies in their arms were seen on the wagons. Up to this point the crowd had been quiet. But when the coach in which Kenkowsky was to be conveyed to the Jefferson Market Police Court appeared, some one shouted, “Kill him!” and an angry howl went up from the dense throng.

“Lynch him! Hang him to a lamp post!” was shouted by others. No attempt, however, was made to carry out these threats.

Meanwhile Chief of Police Donovan of Hoboken and Detective Stanton had arrived, and the prisoner had been led from his cell. When he saw his wife and children he burst into tears. His wife also wept and called out:

“Why did you not take my advice? Why did you not stay away from her?”

“I swear to God I am innocent,” he called out. “Let me kiss you, Katrina; let me kiss you and my children!”

He stepped toward her with arms spread as though to embrace her, but she started back in a half frightened way. The boy, however, sprang toward him and clasped his arms around his neck. The woman turned her face away and only allowed him to kiss her neck, while the little girl pushed him off and then shrank away. Just then the crowd without howled. Kenkowsky turned ghastly pale and trembled, while his wife fainted and fell upon the floor, and the boy wept louder than ever. The little girl leaned over her mother and patted her cheek with one hand, while with the other she made a repelling motion toward her father. The prisoner was led away, and as soon as the wife came to her senses she went away with her children. When the door closed on her she stood for a moment gazing in a dazed manner at the crowd. The people seemed to pity her. One man took her hand and led her down the steps, and then she passed through the crowd unmolested by either word or act. Her face was pale but calm, and the little girl was as quiet as she had been throughout all the trying scenes, but the boy, who clung to his mother’s skirt, was still crying bitterly.

Kenkowsky was again led back before the sergeant at the desk as soon as his family had gone. He was then quite calm and collected. He turned to a policeman and said in German: “I am innocent. I suppose you will let me go home soon.”

“Why,” replied the policeman, “whether you’re guilty or not, you’ll be mighty lucky if you get off.”

The prisoner was then asked if he would go quietly to court, and he said he would. He was manacled, and between two policemen was marched out of the station. His appearance was a signal for another howl from the crowd, who pressed around the party so closely that the policemen used their clubs. The prisoner turned pale, and trembled as he had done in the station when he heard the angry cry without. He was hustled into the coach, and as soon as the door was closed the driver whipped up his horses, and they started off at such speed that the crowd had to fall back. Many, however, ran after the coach several blocks down Ninth avenue, and some boys followed it all the way to the Jefferson Market Police Court.

The prisoner was taken into a small room, and when court was opened he was led before Justice Morgan. Capt. Washburn, Coroner Wiggins, Chief Donovan, Detective Stanton, and G. A. Seide were in court. Capt. Washburn stated the case to the Justice, and said the New Jersey authorities wished to have the custody of the prisoner. The Justice called up Kenkowsky and asked if he knew why he was to be taken to New Jersey. The French interpreter translated the question, but the prisoner said he understood German better than he did French, so the German interpreter was called in. Kenkowsky replied in the affirmative. He further said that he knew his legal rights, but that he was willing to go to New Jersey without any formal proceedings. The Justice then endorsed the warrant and Capt. Washburn handed over the prisoner to Chief Donovan. Kenkowsky’s manacles had been taken off, and he asked that he be allowed to have his arms free. His request was granted.

Kenkowsky was then again placed in the coach, which was driven hurriedly through West Tenth street to the Hoboken ferry and upon the ferryboat Moonachie.

Kenkowsky’s coming had been anticipated in Hoboken, and an immense throng had gathered at the ferry on the Hoboken side, rendering the streets leading to the river almost impassable. As each boat reached the slip the policemen on duty there experienced the utmost difficulty in restraining the crowd that pressed forward eagerly in the desire to get a glimpse of the prisoner. When at last he landed on the New Jersey shore the carriage was driven as rapidly as possible through the multitude in the direction of Police Headquarters. Some one in the throng recognized Chief Donovan in the vehicle and shouted to the bystanders:

“There’s the murderer! There’s the murderer!”

The news spread like wildfire, and was received with mingled threats and shouts of exultation. Cries of “Hang him!” “Lynch the wretch!” “We’ll fix him!” were heard on all sides. The coach dashed up Newark street to Hudson street, pursued by over 2,000 persons, shouting at the top of their voices. Chief Donovan deemed it prudent to avoid the still larger crowds that swarmed around the police station on Washington street. He therefore directed the driver to pull up his horses at the end of an alley that led to the rear of the building. The prisoner was conducted through this passage to the station. He was placed in a cell at the end of the corridor.

While he was lying in jail awaiting the opening of the inquest, which had been adjourned until 2 o’clock, another link in the chain of circumstantial evidence against him was being prepared. Regina Herkfeldt, 20 years old, of 153 Newark avenue, told the police that on Monday, May 9, she went to an intelligence office in Mott street to get a situation as a servant. There she met a man answering Kenkowsky’s description. He engaged her to do housework, and took her to 149 Charles street. There he locked her in a room and assaulted her. He then led her to the street and left her. Afterward he followed her into a saloon and took her pocketbook and a ring from her finger, and left the saloon with them. She followed him to Thirty-fifth street and Tenth avenue, where she lost him. Three or four days afterward the man went to her brother’s place of business (her brother is a galvanizer in the Pennsylvania Railroad shops), and told him that he wanted to marry the girl. After that he went to her house and told her he would marry her, and they went to Canal street, New York, to her sister’s house. Last Sunday the man went to her house and told her he was going to Chicago. He said he wanted to give her a gold watch and a ring. The watch was a lady’s hunting case gold watch, with flowers engraved on the outside case. The inside case did not look like gold. The ring was chased, and had one round dark blue stone set in a crown setting, with four claws which held the stone. He would not let her keep the ring, but said he would send her one from Chicago. He went back on Wednesday, the 18th, and told her she must get a situation, and he would send for her from Chicago. The girl could not remember the man’s name.

When Chief Donovan heard this story he telegraphed to Jersey City for the girl, and she was taken to Hoboken by Detective Bowe. Kenkowsky and a number of other persons were admitted to the large drill room of the station, and the girl was then led in and requested to point out the man. No sooner had she entered the apartment than she walked opposite to Kenkowsky, looked at him steadily for an instant, and then, as she waved her umbrella toward him, exclaimed:

“Das ist der man.”

“Ask him,” said Chief Donovan to Aid Ringe, “whether he has ever seen this woman before.”

The aid interpreted the question and the prisoner grunted out a negative answer.

At 2 o’clock in the afternoon, the hour appointed for the continuation of the inquest, a great throng swarmed in Washington street between Police Headquarters and the Morgue. Kenkowsky was led through this crowd by Chief Donovan and an escort of policemen. The prisoner’s appearance was greeted with the same threatening cries that had been uttered on his arrival in Hoboken, but he bore up against the clamor with real or well-feigned indifference. When he entered the hall and was being led to a seat at the side of the Coroner’s chair his eyes accidentally fell upon the lay figure that had been draped with the clothing of the murdered woman. When he saw it he averted his face with a perceptible tremor. He almost immediately recovered his composure and dropped into his seat.

The Rev. Dr. Mabon, the pastor of the Grove Reformed Dutch Church, testified: “To the best of my knowledge I think the prisoner is the man that I married under the name of Louis Kettler.”

Sarah Jane Rigler, who had directed the couple to Dr. Mabon’s house on May 3, testified: “I recognize the prisoner as the man who was with the woman who asked me where she could get a minister to marry them.”

John E. Schumann, the barber who had been called in by Dr. Mabon to witness the ceremony, said that he believed the prisoner to be the man who was married on that occasion.

Regina Herkfeldt testified concerning her acquaintance with Kenkowsky. She identified a watch that was produced as the one that he gave her. On cross-examination she considerably modified her previous account of the prisoner’s assault upon her.

John E. Luthy, a watchmaker of 315 West Thirty-fifth street, testified that the prisoner called at his place on May 16 with the watch and left it there, taking a receipt for it.

Charles H. Peters, a roundsman of the Twentieth Precinct, this city, testified to a conversation he had had with the prisoner at the station on the night of the arrest. Kenkowsky admitted to him that he knew Mina Muller. He at first denied but afterward confessed that he had given a watch to Luthy to have repaired, and that it belonged to Mina Muller. He told the roundsman that after the trunks had been taken to Christopher street, Mina proposed to him to take a walk, and they went over to New Jersey and visited the Scheutzen Park. They strolled into a saloon on the Guttenberg road and had some beer. After leaving it he told her he wanted to go back to New York, and she objected. As they were talking, two men, he asserted, came along the road. One of them said to the woman: “Hello, Mina! what are you doing over here?” When he heard this familiar language he turned to his companion, and said: “If you are that kind of a woman, I’ll have nothing to do with you,” and then he parted from her, leaving her with the two men.

While the inquest was going on the wife of the prisoner entered the room and managed to force her way through the throng. When she turned her eyes toward her husband she threw up her arms and fell unconscious. She was carried down stairs to the station, where restoratives were applied.

In the evening Kenkowsky was taken to the county jail and placed in the cell formerly occupied by Covert D. Bennett.

In the trunks in Kenkowsky’s possession was found, in addition to a lot of female clothing, a white shirt. The sleeves from the wrists to the elbows were spotted with blood; the bosom, too, was marked with similar stains. On each side of the shirt at about the waist there were marks of bloody fingers. A pair of buckskin gloves with very small spots of blood on the back was also found; the palms were soiled, as if they had been used to handle some rough and dusty article.

THE MURDERED WOMAN’S FUNERAL.

At 11 o’clock on the morning of May 20th, Martin Sanger, an undertaker, removed the body of Mina Muller from the Hoboken Morgue and placed it in a plain coffin, which was put in a hearse and driven to the residence of the deceased woman’s brother, Carl Schmidt, 555 Ninth avenue. On the lid of the coffin was a silver plate with the inscription: “Mina Muller, died May 3, 1881, aged 34 years.” A shield bearing the words “Ruhe in Frieden,” was also on the coffin. A wreath of flowers inwoven with the dead woman’s name rested upon the head of the coffin, surrounded by bouquets. A throng of Germans, mostly women, were waiting in front of the house for the arrival of the body. When the hearse appeared at about two o’clock, the sidewalks for nearly a block were almost impassable. Vehicles blocked the street in some places, and many men and boys had climbed upon the elevated railroad columns. Six carriages containing the husband and brothers of the deceased woman, and the officers of Lodge No. 70, Knights and Ladies of Honor, accompanied the hearse to the grave in the Lutheran Cemetery. Louis Schlisenger, the president of the lodge, read its ritual. Mr. Muller wept during the service.

Mr. Schlisenger said the Lodge would pay the sister of Mrs. Muller $1,000. Mrs. Muller joined the Lodge several years ago. She originally assigned the money she was entitled to as a member to her husband, but on May 3 she revoked this and assigned it to her sister. When Mrs. Muller saw Mr. Schlisenger she told him she was going to France, and in case of her death she desired that her sister should receive the money.

THE PERSON WHO CAUSED KENKOWSKY’S CAPTURE ARRESTED AS AN ACCOMPLICE.—HOW KENKOWSKY SPENT SUNDAY.

At half-past one o’clock on the morning of May 22d, Detectives Heidelberg and Dolan arrested Philip Emden of 414 West Thirty-ninth street, on the charge that he was an accomplice of Martin Kenkowsky. Emden was locked up in a cell at the Police Headquarters. In the morning, however, he was liberated. It was said that he was arraigned at the Jefferson Market Police Court and liberated; but on the other hand it was reported that he was not taken to court at all, but that Captain Washburn of the Twentieth Precinct called at headquarters, and that after a conversation the captain had with Inspector Byrnes, Emden was liberated. The police were reticent about the procedure, but the result was that Emden was freed.

Capt. Washburn was indignant at Emden’s arrest. He said: “Emden was the first man to give a clue to Kenkowsky, and I promised to keep his name a secret. We are in the habit of taking informers’ names in confidence; otherwise people wouldn’t give us information. Prosecutor McGill also promised me that he would not disclose the name. I think Kenkowsky’s wife found out that Emden had given me information, and she tried, out of revenge, to throw suspicions on him. Emden has lived three years in the district, and is a quiet, well-behaved man. Chief Donovan was perfectly willing that Emden should be set at liberty. Emden will accompany me to testify at the inquest. He certainly has not behaved like a man who has committed a murder.”

Philip Emden was found at his house, 414 West Thirty-ninth street. According to his statement he met Kenkowsky shortly after the latter came to this country. Emden is a mason, and found odd jobs for Kenkowsky, who is of the same trade. On Feb. 19 last Emden married Bertha Himmelsbach, and Kenkowsky was one of the witnesses to the ceremony, though on the certificate his name appears as Martin Karkowsky. Shortly after the marriage Emden was told by Kenkowsky that Mina Muller, a friend of his, knew Bertha Himmelsbach, who, she said, was a bad woman. This led to difficulties between Emden and his wife, which ended in their separation on April 17. Since that time he has seen very little of Kenkowsky, but he says that on one occasion the prisoner showed him a gold watch and chain corresponding to those owned by Mina Muller. Emden does not know whether this was before or after the murder.

On Thursday morning he read of the identification, and in H. Luhr’s liquor store, 587 Tenth avenue, he mentioned that Kenkowsky had known Mina Muller. Luhr, who knew Kenkowsky, suggested that the description of the man who was married in Guttenberg tallied with Kenkowsky’s appearance. Emden made up his mind to see if Kenkowsky was still at his house, 510 West Thirty-sixth street. As his pretence for calling, he determined to say that he had a job for the alleged murderer. He found him in bed, and, when he asked if he wanted the job, Kenkowsky said that he was engaged as a cook in a Jewish family on Fifth avenue, and only came home nights. After working hours, Emden went to Capt. Washburn and informed him of his suspicions, and a policeman was sent with him to watch the house. In front of the house they found Strang, the trunkman, who in the meantime had been tracked by Seide. Strang asked Emden if he could speak German, and, when the latter answered in the affirmative, requested him to ask the German woman up stairs if a trunk he was to deliver belonged to her, saying he had left three trunks there some time previously. Emden went up stairs and asked Mrs. Kenkowsky if three trunks had been delivered there, and she said they had not. When Emden came back to Strang with this answer, Strang requested him to ask again, and this time she replied in the affirmative; and when Strang brought up Kenkowsky’s trunk, she said, in surprise: “Why, he told me he had taken it to where he was working in Fifth avenue.”

Kenkowsky’s wife was found at 510 West Thirty-sixth street. She had just returned from a visit to her husband in jail. Her eyes were red as though she had been weeping.

“Philip Emden,” she said, “has been a good friend to me and my poor little ones. When I told my husband this afternoon in jail that Philip had been arrested, he threw up his arms and exclaimed: ‘Philip arrested! Philip, who has always been so good to us? He is innocent, Katrina, as innocent as I am myself.”

Martin Kenkowsky spent Sunday quietly in his cell in the Hudson County Jail at Jersey City. He ate his meals regularly and with much relish, and slept for an hour after dinner. In the afternoon his wife and two children visited him. He embraced them and had a long conversation with them in the presence of a turnkey. In the course of their talk the woman charged him with having stolen a five-dollar gold piece from her room on the evening of May 3d. That was the day on which the murder was committed. Kenkowsky admitted that he had taken the money. He said that after he had left Mina with the two men at Union Hill, he returned to New York city and went home. There he found the $5 piece, which his wife had saved, and put it in his pocket. When he was told of the arrest of Emden he seemed to be very much surprised. He said he knew Emden, and had become acquainted with him only a short time ago.

“But,” he exclaimed, “he is as innocent as I am.”

The prisoner referred frequently to his former narrative as to the circumstances under which he parted with Mrs. Muller in New Jersey. He stated that one of the two men who accosted her in the Schuetzen Park, and with whom he says he left her, was tall, and had a red moustache, and the other was shorter and thinner. He was convinced, he declared, that they murdered her.

City Missionary Verrinder held divine service in the corridor of the jail on Sunday morning. Kenkowsky, at his own request, was permitted to attend the exercises. He sat on the foremost bench, directly in front of the minister, and although he did not understand the sermon, he bowed his head reverently whenever the name of Jesus was uttered by the preacher. At an early hour he went to bed, and fell asleep a few moments later.

The reader who has followed us thus far will perceive that scarcely ever in the records of modern murder cases has such a steel coil of circumstantial evidence, in such a small space of time, so completely woven itself around a murderer. Kenkowsky attempted to prove an alibi by asserting that on the day of the murder, and several hours before it could have taken place, he was on his way to cross the river, and that on his way he had asked the direction to the ferry of a carpenter whom he saw putting up posts for a fence. This carpenter was found, and testified that a man on that date had asked him the way to the ferry, but he failed to recognize Kenkowsky as that man. The bottom of the alibi leaked, however, when the gentleman on whose property the fence was being put up showed his diary, in which was recorded a mem. of that particular job, dated several days after the date of the murder. What verdict could a coroner’s jury bring in but one fastening the crime on Kenkowsky? The trial will be read with great interest.

THE END.

Transcriber’s Note

Efforts have been taken to transcribe this work as originally published, including inconsistent capitalization and punctuation, and alternative titles, names and spelling, except on page 37 where “ogether” has been changed to “together”.