When at last the detective disclosed his
identity the blackmailer at first refused to believe him, and
then literally rolled on the floor in his agony and fear at
discovering how he had been hoodwinked. The next day he
disappeared and has not been heard of since, but his letters
are in my vault, ready to be used if he again puts in an
appearance.
The records of the police and of the private agencies contain
many instances where murderers have confessed their guilt long
after the crime to supposed friends, who were in reality
decoys placed there for that very purpose. It is a
peculiarity of criminals that they cannot keep their secrets
locked in their own breasts. The impulse to confession is
universal, particularly in women. Egotism has some part in
this, but the chief element is the desire for companionship.
Criminals have a horror of dying under an alias. The dignity
of identity appeals even to the tramp. This impulse leads
oftentimes to the most unnecessary and suicidal disclosures.
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