Newspaper Page Text
WHY CRIME DOES NOT
- -*>
Sophie Lyons
of
No. 4 the
The Most Famous and Successful Criminal of Modern Times, Who Made a
Million Dollars in Her Early Criminal Career and Lost It at Monte Carlo, and
Has Now Accumulated Half a Million Dollars in Honorable Business Enterprises
I WAS the wife of a bank burglar. Ned Lyons, as I have already
said, and during the many years of my close connection with the
more important robberies of America and Europe I came to
know intimately the expert burglars of the world. I was the only
woman during this time who not only was in the full confidence of
these famous professionals but who also travelled with them and
was usually assigned a part to play in the robberies.
My reputation was so well established in the Underworld that
I was sought by many criminals who were not bank burglars, but
who wanted a reliable partner in their own fields. Among these
were several women who were extremely remarkable in their own
special work. With some of these women I went into partnership,
and, indeed, so clever were they that on more than one occasion
they proved too clever for me and got the best of me in my dealings
with them.
A business woman of moderate capacity can earn a fair living
in a real estate office, or with various wholesale or manufacturing
firms. Many women of more than usual capacity are earning
$100 a week—here and there are women of conspicudus ability who
make from $15,000 to $30,000 a year, and I know of a few who earn
$50,000 and more.
Now the women I am dealing with on this page to-day were
all exceptional women—every on e of them a woman of undaunted
courage, marvellous knowledge of human nature, quick resource -
fulness, splendid executive ability and almost incredible powers of
persuasion. With such an endowment of natural ability, who can
set a limit for their success in honest fields of business?
And yet every one of these women, arid many others whose ex
ploits I have not the space to recount to-day, is now an outcast, has
served a good share of her life in prison, is in poverty or has died
poor. Surely, as I have asserted a nd hope to abundantly prove
again and again—CRIME DOES NOT PAY!
This great truth forced itself upon me after many, many years
of my profitless Me in the Underworld. And my own Me experi
ence and my present little fortune of half a million dollars, all hon
estly acquired, have demonstrated that half the industry and abil
ity that great criminals expend will return them richer and more
enduring success in honest fields of endeavor.
SOPHIE LYONS.
Some Remarkable Women With Whom I Was in Partnership
WOlI
Ha
Series of Extraordinary Revelations
Written by SOPHIE LYONS
Rt
Net
covered enough o
the police on my ti
s few of my posi
shipped it to my f
and followed there
To Mr. Rowe I
story of my troub
He was very wlllin
to a'd me.
• '"it looks bad fo;
•‘A detective was
minutes ago inqu
(fiances are that I
fora long. But I c
night and then we
of smuggling you 1
> yon whatever moi
ship your trunk ti
Detroit.”
Mr. Rowe was
turned and poster
door of the hotel
other headquarter’
entrance. They w
that Sophie Lyon
that she would so(
How I Escaj
Night came and
no signs of leavin
escape from the u
been hiding all da;
'With Mr. Rowe
fastened to the w
S OPHIE LYONS, bank president—can
you imagine it? Strange as it may
seem, I actually held such a po
sition in New York City for several
months and the experience proved one of
the most surprising in my whole career.
Although this venture In high finance
yielded me only a hare living and nearly
landed me in a prison cell, it gave mo a
remarkable insight into the methods used
ty clever women to swindle the public
and allowed me how these women are
»Me to carry through schemes which the
a>h* skllfuil men In the underworld would
never dare undertake.
All this happened in the days before 1
had woa the wide reputation which my
Crimea later guve me. 1 hud come to
New York with very little mohey and
with no definite plans for getting any—
my husband was serving a term in prison
and I was temporarily alone and on my
own resources. *
Walking up Broadway one day, I came
face to face with Carrie Morse. » woman
! knew by reputation as odo of the most
successful swindlers in the business.
Friends of mine had often pointed her
out to me, but we had never been intro
duced. and I had no idea that she knew
me.
I was therefore greatly surprised when
she stepped up to me and called mo by
same
"Why, Sophie Lyons, how do you do?”
she said with the well bred cordiality
which was such an Important part of her
stock in trade. ‘Come in and have some
tea with me.”
As we entered a well known restaurant
I noted with envious eyes ihe evidences
sf prosperity which Carrie flaunted. From
the long ostrich plume which drooped
from her Parisian hat, to the shiny tips
of her high heeled shoes, she was dressed
in the height of fashion and .expense. At
her throat sparkled a , valuable diamond
brooch, and when she removed 'her gloves
there flashed into view a princely array
of rings, which made my own few jewels
look quite cheap and Insignificant.
We Plan to Start a Bank
And yet, except for this somewhat too
lavish display of jewelry, (here was
nothing loud or overdressed about her. It
was plain that she knew how to buy
clothes, and her tall, well rounded figure
set off her stylish garments admira
bly. In every detail—her well kept
hands, her gentle voice, her superb com
plexlon and the dainty way she had of
wearing her mass of chestnut lialr she
was the personification of luxury and re
finement. As she looked that day, Carrie
Morse would have passed anywhere with
out the slightest question for the beauti
ful and cultured wife of some millionaire.
All these facts, which I took in at A
glunce, made me less inclined to question
too closely the motiies which had prompt
ed her to hail me as an old friend when
wo had never had even a speaking ac
quaintance. Quite evidently she had lots
of money or an unlimited line of credit.
How did she get it" That was what I was
curious to find out 1 made up my mind
that I would he just as nice to her as !
know how hoping that I might learn
from her a new and easy road to wealth.
By the time our tea was served we
were chatting away like old friends.
"Sophie.” she said. "I'm going to lake
you into my confidence and help you
make a lot of money. You and I will
start a bank."
"You mean rob a hank, don't you?" I
said, not quite able to believe my ears,
"1 mean nothing of the sort," she said,
setting down her tea cup with a thump.
“You and I will start a bank. It will be
a bank for ladles' only. Any woman who
-has a little money saved up can come to
us for advice. We will take her money
and show her where she can Invest it so
that she will get more interest than, she
could in any other way."
'But I don't know anything about run
ning a bank.” 1 protested. "I'm Ned
Lyons's wife—he and I are bank robbers,
not bank owners.”
"That’s all right,” she reassured me.
"It's not necessary for you to know any
thing about running banks in order to
hold the position 1 have in mind. All you
have to do is to follow my instructions—-
and you’ll soon be wearing as many ilia
inonds as I am.”
A half hour before I should have
thought it the height of absurdity for any
one to suggest my engaging in a wild cat
banking scheme with Carrie Morse. Yet
now I sat spellbound by her magnetic
power—patiently listening to details
which were all Greek to me and getting
from every word she uttered renewed
confidence in the reality of the financial
castles in the air which were to make us
both millionaires.
What a business -woman Carrie Morse
would have made! With her personal
charms, her eloquence and her quick in
genuity, she had no need to depend on
crime for a living—she could have ac
cumulated a fortune in any legitimate line
of work.
I Enter “High Finance”
The upshot of it al! was that I agreed
heart and soul to Carrie Morse's plans for
taking a short cut to fortune. First she
had excited my avarice by her stories of
the ease with which money could be made
—then she dazed me by her apparent
familiarity with the intricacies of finance.
At last i became as credulous as any
farmer is when he comes to the city to
exchange a few hard earned dollars for
ten time.-; their value in green goods.
I accompanied Carrie to the door of her
hotel. The fact that she was staying at
the fashionable Brunswick, while i was
finding it hard work to raise the price-of
a room at a modest hotel farther down
town, proved another argument in favor
of my following the leadership of my new
found friend.
"Meet me at 9 o’clock to-morrow,”
Carrie had said, "at No. West
Twenty-third street.” I was on hand a
few minutes before the appointed hour.
The address she had given me'was a
three-story brown stone front house Just
beyond the business section of the street.
But 1 was barely able to see it through
the clouds of mortar dust raised by a
gang of workmen who were busily en
gaged in tearing out the whole front of
the building.
"Yes, this is No. said one of the
workmen to whom I addressed a rather
startled inquiry. “Were making it over
into offices.” I was convinced that t had
made a dlstake in the address and was
just on the point of turning away when I
saw Carrie Morse coming down the steps.
“Good morning,” she called cheerily.
‘This is the new bank—or rather, it will
be when these workmen get it finished.
And you, my dear, are no longer Sophie
Lyons, but Mrs. Celia Rigsby, the presi
dent of this rich and prosperous insti
tution for the amelioration of the finances
of the women of New York.”
"But,” I said, beginning now for the
first time to feel some doubts about the
undertaking in which I had so suddenly
embarked, "where is all the money com
ing from to start this bank?’
"Money. raid Carrie, lowering her
voice to a hoarse whisper. "Don't speak
of that so loud—the workmen might hear
you. I've leased this house and I'm hav
ing all these alterations made on credit.
I haven't r cent to my name—that's why
I’m starting this hank. I need money and
this is the easiest wav I know to make It.”
Carrie’s easy confidence allayed most
of my fears and 1 forgot the rest when
from somo mysterious source she pro
duced money enough to support, me in
comparative luxury during the ten days
we had to wait for the bunk to be com
pleted. She insisted that there was ab
solutely nothing for me to do in the mean
time and that she didn't want to see me
in Twenty-third street until the bank was
ready for bus’noss.
1 was hardly prepared for the surprises
which I found when 1 visited the bank on
the appointed day. Over the entrance
hung a huge brass sign reading. "New
'York Women’s Banking and Investment
Company.” The entire front of the build
ing had been remodelled into a commo
dious and up-to-date counting room. This
was lighted by two large plate glass
windows and the entrance was through a
massive door whose glass was protected
by heavy bars These, bars looked for ail
the world like Iron, but Carrie assured
me that they were only wood covered with
tin and painted black.
Inside were all the appurtenances of a
first-class banking establishment—brass
railings, desks, counters, chairs and, in
the most conspicuous position, an enor
mous “burglar proof’’ safe. In the rear
were partitioned off two little private
offices, their doors labelled "Mrs. Celia
Rigsby, President” and "Mrs. Carrie
Morse, General Manager.”
All this quite took my breath away, but
what Impressed me most of ail was the
sight of a half dozen old graybeards who
were busily engaged on some bulky ac
count books. Not one of these men could
have been less than sixty years old and
all were of venerable aspect* with
spectacles white hair and long white
beards.
"Why do you hire such old men?’ I
asked Carrie at the first opportunity.
"And where do you get the money to pay
all of them?”
“S-s-sh!” she whispered "Don’t you
know there’s nothing that inspires
people’s confidence like old men? Many
people who would never trust their
money to a'young, active man, will gladly
hand it over to an old venerable appear
ing fellow. And the next best thing to an
old man Is a pretty woman—that's why
1 think you and I shall make such a suc
cess of this business. As for paying these
old men, they don't get a cent. They are
all working for nothing in the hope of
getting a chance to invest some money
in the business.”
How We Fooled the Public
I was so impressed by these fresh evi
dences of Carrie’s business ability and
my own ignorance, that 1 felt quite re
lieved when she informed me that I
would not have to remain at the bank, but
would fulfill my duties as president at
some apartments she had taken for me
in a fashionable quarter of Fifth avenue.
These apartments were furnished in
splendid style and Carrie handed me a
roll of bills with which to purchase some
gowns -that would be in keeping with my
new home.
After my wardrobe was purchased and
my trunks moved over from the hotel, I
was not long in learning just what Carrla
expected of me. She began inserting ad
vertisements in all the loading news
papers offering "widows and other women
of means,” investments which were "guar
anteed to net them from 15 to 20 per cent,
on their money."
When women called in answer to the
advertisement at the bank on Twenty-
third street, many of them would want
more evidence than Carrie could supply
before they would part with their money.
These doubting ones were referred to me
—Mrs. Celia Rigsby, if you please, who
had made a fortune by investing her late
husband’s $1,500 insurance money in the
securities offered by the Women’s Bank
ing and Investment Company.
The advertisements were kept going In
the newspapers, and more and more
women kept coming to the bank on Twen
ty-third street. Mrs Morse received them
all. talked many of them into leaving their
money with her right then and there, and
to those who had misgivings she said
sweetly;
"But 1 would rather you would not be
influenced by anything 1 have said. It is
your duty to yourself to investigate and
assure yourself as to just what profits we
are really paying on investments. Per
haps ^’ou would like to see and talk with
one of our customers who has done so
well with our investments that she has
taken an interest in our bank. I'm sure
you'd be interested in talking with Mrs.
Rigsby.”
The style In which i lived on Fifth
avenue left no doubt of my wealth, and
with Carrie's help I soon had a glib and
convincing story to tell of my previous
poverty and the steps I had taken to
reach my present prosperity.
Of course, I explained. I toon no active
part In the bank’s affairs. 1 allowed the
use of my name as president and per
mitted Mrs. Morse to refer prospective in
vestors to me merely because I was so
well satisfied with the way my own in
vestments had turned out and felt a
philanthropic desire to share my good
fortune with other women.*
Business increased rapidly and greater
crowds of women came in reply to my
partner’s glowing advertisements. Many
of them would hand over their money
right away in exchange for a handful of
the crinkly stock certificates which filled
a whole room in the rear of the bank.
These certificates were printed in ail the
colors of the rainbow, for, as Carrie naive
ly explained, “some of the ladies, prefer
green, some blue, some black, and so on.”
Carrie was jubilant. She kept me liber
ally supplied with money for clothes and
the heavy expenses of my apartment, but
when I asked her about a further share of
the profits she said:
"Sophie, you’re as ignorant as a new
borne babe of business methods. It’s al
ways customary to leave all the money In
a new business' until the end of six
months. Then we’il’divide what we’ve
made, turn the bank over to some one else
and go to Europe for a long rest.”
I had my doubts about the truth of
this, but as I was making a good living
with little effort and had nothing better
in sight just then, I determined to con
tinue under Carrie's leadership. She con
tinually reassured me by insisting that
what >we were doing was just as legiti
mate as any business and that there was
nothing in it for which the police could
take us to task.
Although I foolishly had confidence in
Carrie’s ability to keep out of trouble, I
did not for a minute believe that the se
curities she was selling were worth the
paper they were printed on. Still, as
most of the women who called to see me
seemed to be persons of means who could
well afford to contribute toward our sup
port, I did not feel any serious com
punctions at advising them to invest. It
seemed no worse than picking a rich
man’s pocket or robbing a wealthy bank—
and it was not half so difficult or so
hazardous to life and liberty.
Our Banking Bubble Bursts
One day, however, something happened
that filled me with honest indignation at
Carrie Morse and her schemes. A poor,
bent old wido-w called to see me—a
woman whose threadbare clothes and
rough hands plainly showed how she had
to struggle to make a living. Tied up in
her handkerchief she had $500 which she
had just drawn from a savings bank.
"It’s all I have in the world." she said
with tears in her eyes “and I’ve had to
scrimp and slave for every cent Qf it. i
saw Mrs. Morse’s advertisements and I’ve
been to see her this morning. She says
if I’ll give my money to her she can
double it for me in two years. Would 1
better do it? I’m oqly a poor old woman
and I want you to give my your advice?"
As diplomatically as I could I explained
to her that while Mrs. Morse's scheme
was an excellent one, it would be much
wiser for a woman in her circumstances
to keep her money in the savings bank,
and I made her promise that she would
put it back there at once. Then l put on
my hat and coat and hurried over to the
bank to see Carrie Morse.
As usual Carrie was in the midst of an
enthusiastic description of her stocks
while a long line of women anxiously
awaited their turn with her. I took her
by the arm, led her into one of the
private offices and shut the door.
"Carrie Morse, this sort of business has
got to stop,” I said with all the emphasis
I could. "I'm willing to help you swindle
women who can afford to lose the money,
but I positively will not have any part in
taking the bread out of the mouths of poor
widows like the one you just sent over
to see me. Sooner than do that I'll starve
—or go *back to robbing banks or picking
pockets.”
"There, there—don’t get excited,” she
said soothingly. "Perhaps I did make a
mistake in encouraging the poor widow.
But this is a business where you can't
help being deceived sometimes. Often the
women who plead poverty the hardest
and dress the poorest, really have the
most money hidden away. I'll give you,
my word of honor, though, that I won’t
accept any, money from that widow even
if she tries to force it on me.”
Somewhat mollified at this I started
back home to renew my interviews with
the prospective investors who came daily
in crowds.
For several weeks things went on as
before. Then one day I chanced to meet
the poor widow who had so excited my
sympathies. To my surprise she con
fessed that she had finally yielded to the
lures of Mrs. Morse’s advertisements and
had given her $500 for some shares in a
bogus Western oil company
I was indignant that Carrie should have
forgotten her promise in that way. and I
set out at once to demand an explanation.
As I was approaching the bank my atten
tion was attracted by some unusual ex
citement just outside the entrance.
Scenting trouble and thinking perhaps
it would be just as well if 1 were not
recontzed in that vicinity I slipped into a
doorway across the street where I could
see what was going on without being
seen
Around the doors of th bank surged a
crowd of several hundred very excited
persons, mostly women. Among them I
recognized many of the ladies whom l bad
urged to invest in Carrie’s securities. I
also noticed our landlord, the contractor
who had altered the building, the man
who had supplied the furniture, a col
lector for the gas company and numerous
other creditors of the bank.
The doors of the bank were closed and
the closely drawn shades revealed no sign
of life inside. In front of the doors stood
three blue coated policemen vainly trying
to keep the pushing crowd back.
What interested me most was two
Centra! Office detectives who mingled
with the crowd trying to get some in
formation from the hysterica! women.
They made slow progress for the women
were too excited to do more than repeat
over and over again the sad refrain: "My,
money’s gone!” But the sight of those
plain clothes mer. showed me the wisdom
of getting out of the way before they had
time to get too deep into the cause of all
the trouble.
Quite plainly the bubble had burst.
Some investor had become suspicious apd
the investigation which she or her hus
band had started had demolished the
filmy structure which Carrie’s vivid imagi
nation had reared.
Bitterly I thought of Carrie’s treachery
to me. Without a word of warning she
had fled, leaving me alone and almost
penniless to face arrest. By now she was
doubtless on her way to Europe or
Canada with all the money In which 1
should rightfully have shared.
There was only one thing for me to do
—get away from my Fifth avenue house
before any of the women investors re
darkness to the r<
lag adjoining the
was an easy drop
finally brought me
After an agon
minutes at the s
board a train at
toward Detroit,
long ‘breath I hai
when I had seen
investors and cr«
closed bank.
Carrie Morse w:
ished for the ladii
the newspapers la
ted her at least
met her Id Chicas
atlng i matrimor
almost as crooked
She never mention
nor offered me rr
and as I was pr
asked her for it.
She was a swii
and served many
she grew old it t
.could 'make to ke
finally died in |
cleverness she ne
what expensive fc
really brilliant abl
This was my fin
women swindlers
learn to my sorro
good faith which
men of the Unde:
among most worm
termined to have
Criminals of my c
B-‘ this wise r<
Masquerading as the Widow of a Distinguished F
It was in Nice that I met Mrs. Gardner, the famous
English confidence woman, and I did not then know of
the custom in England which the doctors have of selling
their practice. 1 soon found that a very distinguished
English physician, Sir Edward Temple, had died, and
that Mrs. Gardner was masquerading as his widow. In
deepest mourning this bogus "Lady Temple” had adver
tised the dead physician's practice for sale for $25,000.
She had come to Italy, as far removed from London as
possible, so as to avoid detection, and was industriously
selling over and over again her supposed late husband's
famous practice.
To one of her prospective customer!
said:
"My husband was a very distinguish
a very lucrative practice. You must re
in the papers wh.ch were printed whei
is one from the London Times—oh! m;
band!”
At this point Mrs. Gardner burst
covered her face with her black-border,
and her charming figure shook convu
sobs* Her visitor, Dr. Mackenzie, s
bowed in silent respect. ,