The Man Who Robbed Seattle's Fire Relief Fund Walked Out of Prison on Friday
Five years after the great fire of 1889 turned Seattle to ash, the secretary trusted to hand out relief money — an inspector who forged checks to invented men — finished his sentence and went free, his full take never known.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
P. McCoombs, the old secretary of the relief committee organized after the great fire of 1889, who was sentenced some time since to five years' imprisonment in the penitentiary for thefts from the relief funds, was released from the penitentiary yesterday, his term having expired Friday.
The full extent of McCoombs' peculations will never be known, but they were large. The facts leading up to his securing the secretaryship of the committee, and his final detection and arrest, are as follows:
When a large portion of Seattle lay in ashes, the relief committee was organized and the contributions came pouring in. Demands for increased protection became general, and Judge T. H. Lewis, chairman of the relief committee, applied to James McGraw, then sheriff, for a number of deputies, who were to assist the police. The regular force was in the hands of Chief Butterworth and was admittedly inadequate, and the sheriff was directed to report to Judge Lewis. Ten deputies were appointed to watch the burned district, and the chief was given full charge of them. Among the appointees was McCoombs, a man who had been permanently disabled by a gunshot wound in the right arm, was unable to work at his trade, and had been out of employment of any kind for some time.
In the course of a fortnight it was discovered that there was no necessity for keeping up the entire force, as the duties became lighter every day, and gradually the extra policemen were dropped, one by one, until McCoombs and the chief were the only ones left. It was found that one man was sufficient to watch the stores, and Rogers resigned from the relief committee and went on the city police force. McCoombs retained the duties of inspector, and soon after another move toward retrenchment was made. Secretary Babcock resigned his position and McCoombs succeeded to the place, in effect combining the three offices of relief inspector and secretary of the committee. It is thought that the system of petty robberies, which in time amounted to so much, was inaugurated shortly after McCoombs took the place. At any rate, he had been in the office only a little time when, he said, it became necessary to make a new method of keeping accounts, and he put in operation a plan of his own.
Matters went on smoothly enough to all outward appearance, until one day McCoombs became enraged at an inquiry from a newspaper reporter and, after a heated controversy, showed him the door — a manner that was more effective than polite. The reporter immediately began to investigate the secretary, and was successful in finding a trail that led to important developments. Robert Moran, the mayor, was quietly advised of the condition of affairs, and one day he sent for Rogers. The interview that followed ended in the mayor giving the detective a written order on the chief of police for two men, and these men and Rogers were detailed to shadow the secretary night and day and in no event allow him to leave town. At the same time a committee of experts was put at work on the books, and found the accounts in almost inextricable confusion. Finally McCoombs was arrested on a charge of forgery in issuing checks. Following is a copy of one of the instruments that passed through his hands:
GENERAL RELIEF COMMITTEE. Seattle, Wash., April 9, 1890. To L. P. Ferry, Treasurer, Puget Sound National Bank: Pay to the order of Mrs. Mavity twenty dollars, for relief. C. B. HEILBRON, Chairman. P. McCOOMBS, Secretary.
The rule governing the committee was that no member should draw checks for more than $5, and McCoombs took advantage of this by a system of 'plumbing.' A stream of gold continually flowed into his pockets. In this he was assisted by a young clerk in a store, Turner. It was afterward shown that Turner received a great deal of the money. Just before the crash Turner became very nervous and threatened to get out of the business, and letters and documents from him fell into the hands of the officers. McCoombs then assumed a bold front and gave his testimony at the trial.
The triumph, if such it was, was short lived. McCoombs was put on trial, and in a few days Chief Rogers traced the money to Turner. From that point Turner jumped to Brooklyn and was apprehended. The bringing of the mining witnesses from the East furnished the evidence that sounded the death knell of the defense, and the conviction was an easy one. Turner was convicted, and so were Carr — who was then in the express business — and one Long, all of whom were sent to the penitentiary for the part they had taken in the business.
One of the devices resorted to was the creation of fictitious persons, and orders were drawn in their names and cashed. A widow living near the courthouse applied to McCoombs for money enough to make needed repairs on her house of rough lumber. She engaged a carpenter and had the house built herself. Toward the completion she again grew short of funds, and on making a second appeal to the secretary received some money. A few days later a bill from one C. E. Taylor for $175 for furnishing lumber and building a house on Seventh street for one Mrs. Pryor, bearing McCoombs' endorsement, was presented to the committee and allowed. A check for the amount was drawn and given to McCoombs, who transferred it to Turner. The latter endorsed 'C. E. Taylor' on the check and cashed it at the Puget Sound National Bank. Just after cashing the check Turner stepped outside the bank, where McCoombs was waiting, and handed the money to him. The latter magnanimously returned $25 to his partner in the crime. At the trial Turner admitted that Taylor was a myth.
This system of 'working the checks' was extensively practiced, and McCoombs gathered in many a dollar. He defrauded the poor by issuing orders, say for $20, for groceries and then obtaining a portion of that amount — say $4 worth — in supplies and delivering them to applicants, but cashing the remainder on one pretext or another and putting the $16 clear into his pocket. Like the majority of swindlers, he at last was brought to the bar of justice and paid in a degree the penalty of his crimes.
“The full extent of McCoombs' peculations will never be known, but they were large.”
Seattle's 1889 fire drew relief money from across the country, and the man hired to hand it out — a disabled veteran of the burned district — turned out to be skimming it with forged checks made out to men who never existed. The scandal is a reminder that disaster charity has always been the easiest pot to steal from, and that the people cheated first are the ones with the least standing to complain. Modern Seattle's debates over who audits homeless-services and fire-relief dollars echo the same question: who watches the man with the checkbook?
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.