Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 36, No. 4, October 20, 1928

The Studio Publishing Company of the same address presented a letter signed “Roland B. Molineux,” asking for a sample copy of their paper — in which there had appeared an advertisement of Koch’s letter box business. And this letter was written on egg blue paper with three intertwined crescents, paper which appeared later in the files of a certain patent medicine firm signed “H. Cornish.” It appeared a third time in the files of a doctor’s office on Columbus Avenue signed “Roland B. Molineux,” and giving the Newark address.

The paper was traced from the maker, Whiting and Company, to several shops in Newark and New York. Mamie Melando, who cared for Molineux’s rooms at the factory, swore that this paper had been among Molineux’s effects — and based her statement on the fact that it had pleased her so much that she occasionally pilfered some.

Friends of Molineux remarked that Miss Melando had ample opportunity to place this egg blue paper in Molineux’s desk at some outside instigation. Or that Miss Melando was plainly talking through her hat.

Molineux Denies All

Early in February the district attorney’s office announced that by right of a recently established decision of the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court, they would take the matter out of the detectives’ hands and that henceforth all investigation would emanate from that office.

The first thing they did was to order a coroner’s inquest. And since the letter box men had added Barnet’s name to the mystery and Dr. Douglass came forward and told all he knew about the Kutnow powders and the cyanide of mercury, the district attorney ordered Barnet’s body exhumed. The findings there added to the general excitement. Enough poison was discovered to have killed half a dozen men.

In the time which intervened between the calling of the inquest and its occurrence, rumors that Cornish had openly accused Molineux gained credence and he was invited to make these accusations officially at the inquest.

Instead he denied ever having made them at all.

“Don’t you recall saying that Molineux was the only man who could possibly have done it, accusing him?” he was asked.

“I do not accuse Mr. Molineux. Anything I may have said to McCluskey was by way of suggestion and not meant to be a charge.”

Molineux lost none of his calmness during this proceeding. He conducted himself with such dignity and restraint that he won sympathy and created an immediate and excellent impression. Impassive and unshaken, he told frankly of the differences with Cornish during the last few years of his connection with the Knickerbocker Club.

He said that he and Barnet were always friendly, that he had not called on the sick man during his last illness because of the approaching wedding — quite naturally he would not wish to get diphtheria.

He denied ever having egg blue paper. He denied the mail boxes, he denied writing to patent medicine firms for remedies, this in face of the fact that the physical description — i.e., height, weight, and other characteristics — fitted him to the last inch.

Mrs. Molineux Testifies

When asked if he knew anything about cyanide of mercury he said that he had not heard of it, yet with his wide knowledge of poisons this seemed surprising.

Mrs. Molineux was also a witness at the inquest and won much admiration for her attitude. She was beautiful, unmoved, inscrutable. She told of her acquaintance with Barnet — for this angle of the matter seemed to have much weight — “the same mind conceived the idea of sending both poisons,” was McCluskey’s verdict.

She said that she had written to him at Molineux’s suggestion and when the letter was read in court she showed no discomposure.

“I was distressed,” the letter ran, written less than a month before the date of her wedding, “to hear of your illness. I arrived home on Saturday. I am so exceedingly sorry to know that you are indisposed. Won’t you let me know when you are able to be about? I want so much to see you. Is it that you do not believe me? If you would but let me prove to you my sincerity! Don’t be cross with me any more. And accept, I pray you, my very best wishes. — Yours, BLANCHE.”

“Why,” asked the district attorney, “did you ask him not to be cross with you?”

“That was merely a matter of form,” Mrs. Molineux answered calmly. She was cool, serene, unruffled.

“Was Barnet in love with Mrs. Molineux?” they thundered at Molineux next, and he replied:

What Motive?

“I am sure that I do not know his mind toward her, but I can hardly blame him if he admired her.”

“Was she in love with Barnet?”

“Permit me,” remarked Molineux smoothly, “to point to the fact that she married me.”

Molineux’s friends were indignant when they realized that he was placed in a position where accusation against him might at any time become official.