I told the police that in my opinion, Leroy had taken the rifle apart to find out how the internal mechanism operated. I asked them to find and bring me the rifle if they could. I said it would probably have a brass trigger on it by now all right, since he wouldn’t be fool enough not to put one on when he had a chance. In the meantime I realized that to make a case, we must find out if possible what the steel tubing had originally been made for and where it had come from. It had evidently been a gas-welded tube of commercial factory manufacture. Remembering, in this case, that the Wall Street bomb fragments had never been successfully traced, I decided to take on this search myself. I began by visiting personally a number of big hardware stores and showing them the fragments. They told me the tubing was not standard gauge and must be of foreign make. This did not satisfy me. I next wrote to the editor of
So the tubing in the bomb had definitely come from a Chevrolet garage or storeroom! Dr. Wood was making progress. But there were thousands of Chevrolet garages — hundreds in Maryland and the District of Columbia. It remained to be proven, if possible, that this particular tubing had come from the
Wood continues:
I had discovered a tiny, seemingly accidental imperfection, if you could call it that, in the tubing fragments — two parallel scratches, microscopically visible on all the fragments, along the tube’s seam — made probably by a nick on the machine which had polished them. I went to Chevrolet headquarters in Baltimore, first of all, and asked permission to examine the torque rods they had in stock. None of them showed similar scratches along the seams. I then asked Lieutenant Itzel to send someone quietly down to the Chevrolet garage in Washington where Leroy Brady worked, to purchase and bring back a couple of torque rods from the stock there. These were brought to me,
The net was closing in. My findings now pointed more and more definitely to Leroy Brady.
I was certain, from the remains of the small copper disk welded by the explosion to the fragment of steel cylinder which had been part of the mechanism, that an old-fashioned percussion cap identical with those used for muzzle-loading shotguns had been used. Furthermore, another fragment of like steel cylinder Lieutenant Itzel had later found showed that a skilled workman had “turned” its end down to exactly the right diameter to fit such a cap.
I felt this might form an additional clue, since muzzle-loading shotguns were extremely rare as late as 1930, even in rural districts. I wasn’t thinking any more about the twenty-two- caliber rabbit rifle which had merely supplied the model for the firing mechanism — but about where the shotgun cap had come from. The cap used in the bomb had been pure copper. I had Itzel buy several boxes of caps, each made by a different arms company, and analyzed the metal. All the types but one were made of brass, copper plated. Only the caps made by Remington were pure copper.
I was now ready to take a chance. I told Lieutenant Itzel to get a search warrant — to search the farm where Herman Brady lived, from attic to cellar, for a muzzle-loading shotgun, or for any evidence that there had been one there, and to look for a box of percussion caps. Three hours later he was back at my laboratory.
“Well, Doc”, he said, “we found the muzzle-loader, and we also found a box of percussion caps on the mantelpiece… and they were Remington!”
I said, “Bring them in, and I think I can promise you the material for an indictment and conviction of one or both of the boys”.