A Missing Man, a Dead Wife, and a Sewing Machine Full of Money

Joseph Von Lingenau, who occupied a pleasant home at 127 Lewis street in the Walla Walla addition, and whose wife died two months ago yesterday in childbirth, has disappeared, and despite the efforts of his friends to find him his whereabouts remains a mystery—as much so, in fact, as the exact cause which led to his vanishing. So far as has been discovered he had no reason to skip out, and the theory that he has been put out of the way is not sustained by the known facts. His actions since the time of his wife's death have been queer at times, and it is possible he may have wandered away during a fit of mental aberration. Some of his friends, however, think that he was murdered for a sum of money he claimed to have found in his wife's sewing machine after her death. The history of Joseph Von Lingenau embraces the elements of a complex sensational story. He claimed to be from the aristocracy of Prussia, and at times showed marks on his body which he said were caused by beatings he received as a prisoner in Siberia. Once in talking with Mrs. Alice Collins, one of his Lewis street neighbors, he said that when he escaped from Siberia he assisted a friend, a doctor now living in the East, to get away with him, and that the race to the steamer was so close that the doctor had to jump aboard as the steamer pulled away from the dock. After he reached this country he went to Chicago, and by peddling shoes made $4,000, which he put into a saloon and restaurant. His ignorance of business tricks was exposed when it was learned that the business was heavily mortgaged and he lost everything he had put into the establishment. Before this he chanced to meet Hulda Greter, a widow whose maiden name had been Dorn. Lingenau was not versed in making love, so he told the object of his affections that she had better think of marrying him. Then he ran away to conceal his embarrassment. Hulda took him at his word and the first justice of the peace they came to tied the knot. Lingenau had another fit of embarrassment and fought shy of his wife for five days. After they went to Leavenworth, Kan., Lingenau joined the Knights of Labor and commenced to talk about wages, capital and labor. He took out his first papers at Leavenworth. After coming to this city about 1890 he worked at various trades and purchased lots 5 and 6 in the Sander-Bowman addition. He built a small one-and-a-half-story house and started a garden, and his wife put out a sign informing the public that she took in washing. They pretended to the neighbors that they were poverty-stricken, and Mrs. Lingenau made a practice of begging from everybody. Lingenau did not get along with his neighbors owing to his bad temper. Three years ago he got into a dispute with H. Schultz, a laborer, and was biting his finger off when a street car conductor separated them. He did not take much interest in labor when he could talk politics, and the police grew to know him well as an agitator. Just before the last election he was haranguing a crowd at Yesler avenue and South Third when Denny O'Brien, a well-known character, yelled out: 'Why don't you go home, you anarchist?' Lingenau rushed at O'Brien in a passion; the two men clinched, but Detective Cudhee separated them. Three months ago Lingenau went to County Commissioner Gasch and asked for the services of a physician, saying that his wife was ill. One of the best physicians in the city was provided, but despite his orders to remain in bed, no sooner got out of sight than she would get up and frequently go out into the garden and spade the earth. She died in giving birth to a child, despite the strenuous efforts of two physicians and a nurse to save her. The husband acted like a wild man, blaming the doctors for his wife's death. After she was buried he made a practice of getting up at 5 o'clock in the morning, going out on the front steps of his house and yelling like a fiend. One day he called on Gus Mueller, a tailor on Third street, and happened to meet Frank Graffenberg, one of the miners who were injured in the Roslyn mine horror. He seemed to pity Graffenberg and gave him a half-dollar, also asking him to come out and make him a visit. Mueller was surprised at Lingenau's generosity, knowing his character, and asked him if he was not unusually well off for money. Lingenau replied that he thought the poor fellow needed the money worse than he did, and then again said: 'I know now that I had a good wife, for when I broke open the sewing machine a day or so ago I found money, and I think there is more in another drawer of the machine.' He made Mueller promise to go with him out to Ravenna park July 22 to a single tax meeting. Mueller said that he did not think there was to be a meeting there, but agreed to go. Graffenberg went out to Lingenau's house Friday, July 21, and stayed all night. The next day Lingenau gave him 25 cents to get meat, and in the meantime killed a hen and went out to cook it. Sunday morning about 5 o'clock Graffenberg was awakened by a yelling, and on looking out of the window saw it was made by Lingenau, who was standing on the front steps. He told Lingenau to stop, but got a sharp answer. After breakfast he told Graffenberg that he was going out to Ravenna just to see a man named Clark about securing some land, and promised to be back at 5 or 6 o'clock. 'What do you want for supper?' said Graffenberg. 'Get what you want,' was the reply. Graffenberg said he was going to make some potato pancakes, with eggs. 'I don't want any in mine,' said Lingenau, 'because I once sucked nineteen eggs on a wager, and won the title of champion egg-sucker.' Mueller went to the house in the afternoon and waited quite a while to go to the single tax meeting with Lingenau. Graffenberg waited two days more before the case came to the police. A few days ago Mrs. J. K. Mason, of Union street, learned from Mrs. Peisner, of Green Lake, that the man left home, took dinner at Peisner house, eating very little. It is also said that Lingenau was expected to be arrested the next day because he had written a letter to County Commissioner Gasch about the tenth of the month, after the death of his wife. Before leaving the house he is said to have said: 'This is the last glass of beer I will ever drink.' He left there to go to the single tax meeting at Ravenna park, but since that time no one has seen or heard of him. Mrs. Alice Collins says that the rumor that Lingenau once had a fall in a hotel and suffered an injury to his head is false. She also says Lingenau told her last fall that the Lewis street house and lots are mortgaged heavily to the doctor who escaped from Siberia with Lingenau. Mrs. M. C. Snow, the nurse who took care of Mrs. Lingenau, said that the night before Lingenau disappeared she told him that Mrs. Kyther, who had charge of the infant which survived the mother, had sent it to her ranch at Port Orchard. Lingenau replied that he had been told the child was dead and he wondered what had become of it. Both Mrs. Snow and Mrs. Collins said the physicians did all in their power to save Mrs. Lingenau. The letter the man referred to when speaking to the Peisners at Green Lake was received by County Commissioner Gasch, but until he learned of Mrs. Lingenau's death he did not get its meaning. The letter was of such a character that it cannot be printed. In substance, however, it blamed the doctors for his wife's death and indicated that the writer was insane. There is nothing to show that Lingenau had enough money about him to give a motive for murder, but many of his friends cling to the belief that he has met with foul play. It was thought that he might have gone to Port Orchard in search of his child, but at last reports he had not been there. The missing man was about 31 years old, five feet eleven inches tall, stout build, and had a very dark complexion. He wore black whiskers, under which it could be seen that he was pockmarked. He had gray eyes, but was near-sighted. When last seen he wore a dark-colored suit of clothes and slouch hat. Detective Cudhee took charge of the case yesterday by orders from Chief Rogers and inspected the house. In one closet he found nearly thirty dresses, many of them of fine material. In a trunk were many pieces of cloth that had never been made up, and in a dresser were piles of white wearing apparel. It is supposed that all this stuff was begged by Mrs. Lingenau.