Wildly Declaring his Innocence, yet admitting that he was in Hoboken with the murdered woman—“She Led Me Astray”—A very Touching Scene with his Wife.

Martin Kenkouwsky, alias Louis Kettler, the murderer of Mrs. Mina Muller, was captured on the night of May 19th, 1881, by Policemen Morris Fitzgerald and Richard Tregonning of the Thirty-seventh street police station, as he was walking in Thirty-sixth street, near Tenth Avenue, New York City. The clue which led to his detection was discovered and followed out almost to the end by Gustavus A. Seide, a reporter for a Jersey City newspaper, and compares, as a piece of amateur detective work, with the detection of Chastine Cox, the murderer of Mrs. Hull. Seide recognized that there was a flaw in the theory that the alleged murderer had gone to Europe in the Amerique. There was no certainty that the baggage which was taken from Sherrer’s house on the day the steamer sailed was delivered at the pier of the French line, nor was there positive evidence that Kettler himself had been seen on the pier that morning. Superintendent West of the French pier said that on the day the Amerique sailed, a man answering somewhat Kettler’s description had applied to him for a ticket, and he had referred him to the purser. Baggage corresponding to what Kettler was supposed to have taken with him the Superintendent had not seen on the pier.

Seide came over to New York early Thursday morning, May 19th, and proceeded at once to look for the man who was supposed to have taken Kettler’s baggage from Scherrer’s Hotel to the pier. Scherrer had seen the man in the neighborhood quite frequently, but did not know his name or where he kept. He, however, described him to Seide as a tall, well-built man, with dark moustache and dark complexion. The reporter started out, and visited the truck stands between Christopher and Twentieth streets, but could not find his man. Returning to Scherrer’s, he found a man, whom he describes as a “dilapidated individual,” taking a drink at the bar. Seide again asked Scherrer for a description of the truckman. Scherrer gave it as before, adding that he drove a red truck with one brown horse. Here the “dilapidated individual” spoke up and said, the truckman might be found at Christopher and Bleecker streets. On inquiring there Seide learned that he changed his stand a few days before; but where he had gone no one in the immediate vicinity could tell. He, however, discovered that his name was C. A. Strang. He then made inquiries for Strang’s whereabouts in various smithies and liquor stores, and in one of the latter he ascertained that Strang lived in Greenwich street, on the west side, a few doors below Christopher street.

At this point Seide telegraphed over to Detective Stanton of the New Jersey force, and awaited his arrival. Then they went to Strang’s house, where Mrs. Strang informed them that her husband was at the new market, corner of West and Gansvoort streets. There they found him. They asked him if, on the morning of the sailing of the Amerique, he had taken baggage belonging to Kettler to the steamship wharf. He replied that he had not; he had taken the baggage to a Mrs. Clifford’s, at 179 Charles street, and about ten days afterward he had removed the valise and three ordinary yellow trunks to 510 West Thirty-sixth street. The other trunk, which was long and black, he had not seen again. He was not sure whether he had taken the first load on the 3d or 4th instant. He at first refused to go with them to the house in Charles street, saying he was too busy; but when Seide and Stanton offered to pay him for his time, he consented.

Mrs. Clifford said that a man answering Kettler’s description had come to the house either on the 3d or 4th inst., and she remembered that Strang had brought a valise and four trunks. Kettler had remained at the house about ten days, paying her regularly. Once he paid her with a five-dollar gold piece. She did not notice anything peculiar or restless in his behaviour. He kept to the house pretty closely, though he was generally out nights. She saw, however, that he read the newspapers very closely. He told her that he was going to California. When asked if on his departure he had taken all his baggage, she said, no, he had left a long black trunk, which they would find in the wood-shed. They opened the trunk, and found it full of crockery and cooking utensils. They carried it to Strang’s truck, and directed Strang to carry it to the house in Thirty-sixth street, to ask for Kettler, and if Kettler was there, to give them a sign, as they would remain outside. Strang inquired for Kettler, but was told that no man of that name lived there; but that a man corresponding to the description lived one flight up with a wife and two children. Strang took the trunk up stairs, and found a woman, a young boy, and a little girl in the room designated. The woman said the trunk belonged to Martin Kenkouwsky, her husband, and offered to pay fifty cents for its delivery. Strang then signalled to Seide and Stanton that the man was not in, and the reporter and detective went to an adjoining house, and received permission to watch from the windows. Seide went out again to speak to Strang, and while he was talking to him in front of 510 West Thirty-sixth street, both were arrested by Policeman Tregonning. The police of Capt. Washburn’s precinct had been looking for the same man, and had traced him to this same house. This was the cause of the arrest of Seide and Strang. When they got to the station, Seide explained to the Captain who he was, and the Captain sent him back with a policeman to get Stanton to identify him. At first they couldn’t find Stanton, and the policeman wanted to take Seide back. In the meantime the Captain had sent Policeman Fitzgerald to aid Tregonning in arresting Kenkouwsky. The policemen, Seide, and Stanton, who had meanwhile relieved Seide of his embarrassment, waited for about three hours, when they saw a man answering the description of the murderer walking up the street. Policeman Fitzgerald arrested him. He offered no resistance, and his only exclamation was in German: “Was ist? was ist? was ist?” He was at once taken to the station, where he was locked up. Sergeant Brown was sent down for Scherrer, and a policeman was despatched for Strang. Scherrer arrived about twenty minutes after the arrest, and identified the prisoner as the man who had been at his house under the name of Kettler. Strang also soon appeared, and he too identified Kettler. Meanwhile Policemen had entered the room at 510 West Thirty-sixth street, notified the woman of her husband’s arrest, and taken the four trunks and the valise to the station. Our reporter was present when the trunks were opened. Almost the first thing found when one of the yellow trunks was opened was a letter addressed to Mrs. Mina Muller, 338 West Thirty-ninth street. In a corner of the envelope was printed “Germania Lodge, No. 70, K. of H.” It contained a request for her to attend a lodge meeting on Jan. 10. The trunks were full of articles of female attire, and in one of them was a pair of men’s gloves of white leather, stained with dirt and badly torn, as though whoever wore them had been handling some rough object. It is thought that Kenkowski wore these gloves when he was married and when he crushed Mina Muller’s skull with stones. A gray wrapper, and a straw bonnet and table covers were among the other objects found.

At about half-past 9 the prisoner’s wife arrived at the station with her boy, who was crying bitterly. She asked why her husband had been arrested, and why the trunks had been taken away. When asked what his name was, she replied, “Martin Kenkouwski,” and added that they had been married ten years ago in Alsace, and had only been in this country a little more than half a year. Her husband was a mason and kalsominer. When asked if he had been at home regularly lately, she said he had been away about ten days in the beginning of the month.

“Do you know,” asked the interpreter (the woman and her husband spoke in German), “that he married another woman, and killed her?”

“I don’t believe it,” she replied firmly, while the boy cried more loudly than before. “I don’t believe it!” she reiterated. “Let me see him! Don’t cry my child” (turning to the boy), “or you will make me weep. Don’t cry!” Here her voice faltered, and she burst into tears.

She was then led to the cell. Here a heart-rending scene occurred. She threw herself with her child against the grating, sobbing and calling for her husband. He was far back in the cell, and when he heard her and the child, he shrieked from out of the darkness:

“Katrina! Katrina! Merciful Heavens! My child! My child! Great God, are you here!”

Then he rushed forward to the cell door, pressed his face against the iron trellis work, lifted his hands and called out: “Before God I stand a guiltless man, and if I die I die guiltless. I was misled by the wicked woman; she led me astray. My God, Katrina! Katrina! Give me your hand!” Here he thrust his hand through the cell gate, and his wife clasped it. She was too much overcome to speak for a while, and the child moaned and sobbed. Kenkouwski continued reiterating his innocence, when he called out again. “The wicked woman misled me; she led me astray.”

His wife exclaimed: “Have I not been a good wife? Have I not prayed to God for you?” Then she sobbed again. After a while she said to him: “I don’t believe you killed her! I don’t believe it!” After this she and the child were led away, and he called after them: “By God, Katrina, I am innocent. I am innocent.”

The woman said he had always been a good husband to her, nor did she seem to know anything of Mina Muller. She said nothing when asked what she had thought when her husband came back with three yellow trunks after an absence of ten days.

Shortly after the woman left, Kenkouwski was led before the Sergeant for examination. He looked wild and nervous, and gesticulated violently. “He must be watched well to-night,” said one of the policemen, “or he’ll hang himself.” As he approached the desk, he suddenly threw up his arms and exclaimed:

“Now, I will tell you the truth. If it is not the truth you may take a knife and cut my throat, like this,” (here he pulled his finger across his neck.) “Mina Schmidt told me the other day that she knew I was married, but she wanted me to marry her and go to Germany with her, where she had very good parents living. At that time I didn’t know she was married. We went to Guttenberg to get married, and when we got over there we went to the Schutzen Park. Two men there came up to me and told me that she did not love me, that she loved another. When she heard this she sprang up and ran away from me, and I have not seen her since.”

He was then led back to his cell. He was again brought from his cell at about 11 o’clock to be looked at by the reporters assembled in the Thirty-seventh street station. He had been lying down, and the light dust from the cell floor covered his back. He looked in a bewildered manner at the throng about him, spoke a few words in German, reasserting what he had previously said in regard to the murder, and was taken back again. His eyes were bloodshot, and he spoke in a nervous manner.

“Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!” exclaimed Kenkouwsky, “does any one speak French?

“I do!” replied another reporter, addressing him in French. Kenkouwsky sprang from his seat and, with tears falling fast, seized the reporter by the hand and said: “Tell them that as our Saviour, who was crucified, was innocent, so am I!”

“Of what?” asked the reporter.

“Of the murder of Mina Schmidt. I married her that day, although I have a wife here. She told me she loved me. I did not tell her I was married. After we were married we went to Schuetzen Park. There we sat at a table drinking, when two men came by. They greeted Mina as old friends, and we all drank together. One of the men took her away, and the other then told me that Mina had said that she did not love me. They all left me, and I, after hunting for them, came back to this city and tried to find her.”

Chief of Police Donovan of Hoboken, who had been standing by all this time and listening to what the reporter quickly translated, touched the reporter on the shoulder and said: “Ask him if he was not in Jersey City last night.”

The reporter asked the question. Kenkouwsky staggered back and repeated, “Jersey City! Jersey City! Where is that?” The reporter repeated the question.

Kenkouwsky replied: “I was with my wife last night.”

“In Jersey City?” asked the reporter.

“No; I was with a woman there.”

Chief Donovan’s eyes brightened, and he then said: “Last Monday a young girl, whose name I cannot now mention, was taken into a house by this man. He made her drink wine, and as she was partly stupefied, he locked the doors and assaulted her. It was for this offence that I and my detectives were hunting him up to-day. We did not then suspect that he was the murderer of Mrs. Schmidt. Last night he was to meet another girl, but she became frightened and did not stay where he told her to until he came. He eluded us by ten minutes.”

In the prisoner’s pocket was found a clipping from a German paper of the account of the hanging of Mrs. Meierhoffer and her paramour last winter. To the reporter he said he had not read any account of the Guttenberg murder until the day previous to his arrest.

At midnight Chief Donovan had the trunks of Mrs. Mina Schmidt taken over to Hoboken.

Detective Stanton told our reporter that an empty watch case had been found in the room at 510 West Thirty-sixth street. On the yellow trunks labels were pasted with the address:

The purpose of this address was, it is supposed, to induce Scherrer to believe that he was to take the French steamer.

Seide says he has ascertained that on Monday night, May 2, Kenkouwsky applied at Becker’s Hotel in Christopher street, for a room, but refused to write his name. The entry is in the hotel clerk’s hand. “Louis Kettler, Room No. 1.”

Coroner Wiggins began an inquest in the case in Hoboken on the afternoon of May 19th. Simon Muller, the husband of the murdered woman, testified: “Coroner Wiggins told me on Wednesday that my wife had been found murdered in Guttenberg. I told him that it could not be so, for that she had gone to Germany with a man from Alsace. I went to the French steamship wharf on the day I heard they were to sail, and watched for her until the ship sailed, but she did not come. I was married to her five years ago. Our married life was unhappy, and on the 5th of last January she left me. She had then between $75 and $100.”

Carl Schmidt, the brother of the murdered woman, testified: “I last saw my sister Philomina at my place, 555 Ninth avenue, New York. She came to my house on Sunday, May 1, at about 5 o’clock in the afternoon. She told me she was going with a man named Louis Kettler to Mulhausen, in Alsace. I asked her why she was going. She replied that Kettler was well off at home. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘what treatment I have had from my husband.’ I told her that I knew he did not treat her right, but that she should not go with this man, as she did not know him at all. And further, I told her that she must first get a separation from Muller before she could go with another man. She answered, ‘I don’t care how it will result, I will go with him. My husband tried to shoot me.’ She also told me that she had known Kettler for four weeks, and he had told her that he had property in Mulhausen, and that he would give her a good home there. Kettler, she said, was richer than the whole Schmidt family. She left me at about 6½ o’clock to go to my other sister’s house in Tenth avenue, between Nineteenth and Twentieth streets. I never saw Kettler but once, and that was on a Sunday in April in Second avenue, near Seventy-ninth street, in my sister’s apartments. On May 2nd a cousin of my wife met Kettler on the street and asked him when he and Mina were going to Europe. He replied that he was not going to Europe. The cousin then asked what Mina would do, and he said she would go to the country, where she had friends to stay with. Kettler then suggested that the cousin and he should go off together, and leave Mina behind. Since the 3rd of May, on the 9th or 10th of the month, I think, the woman Sacks saw Louis Kettler passing up on the opposite side of the street. When she noticed him she called my wife, who was in the room with her, to the window.”

The Rev. Dr. Mabon, the pastor of the Grove Reformed Dutch Church, on the Weavertown road, at whose house the murdered woman and Kettler were married, testified that he had performed the ceremony.

“When I asked the man,” he said, “if he took the woman for his lawful wife, he answered ‘Yes,’ and at the time I noticed a tear in his eye.”

The inquest was suddenly adjourned on the news of the murderer’s arrest in N. Y. city.