Death of a Robber Baron by Charles O'Brien Page A

back in their display case and had just realized that one was missing. The floor manager had entered the room. The clerk was watching him and gasping for breath.
    â€œDon’t panic,” Pamela whispered and discreetly handed her the bracelet.
    â€œThank God!” the clerk whispered while putting it back in the case. She had turned deathly pale and now began to sway. Pamela grabbed her and eased her into a chair.
    By this time, the floor manager, a tall, stern man, had come upon the scene, brow furrowed with irritation and concern.
    â€œShe needs a break and some fresh air, sir,” said Pamela before he could complain. A few wealthy ladies had gathered at the counter and were looking on sympathetically.
    â€œThe poor girl!” said one of the ladies and glanced with reproach at the floor manager.
    He yielded grudgingly. “You may take her outside, Mrs. Thompson. I’ll find another clerk to fill in.”
    Pamela lifted the young woman under the arm and led her away. On the way to the street, the name “Henry Jennings” suddenly popped into Pamela’s mind. She felt a frisson of concern. A rich, older lady with that name had to be the Copper King’s wife. Meeting her was an extraordinary coincidence. Still, it would have consequences. Pamela was sure of that.
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    During the following week, the image of Mrs. Jennings receded. Pamela was busy, her work uneventful. She encouraged the clerks to be more careful when displaying jewelry. In a demonstration, for example, they were to show only as many pieces as they could keep near and in sight. They realized that she was watching them as well as the customers. Clerks commonly regarded a little pilfering as a fair, even necessary supplement to their pitiful wages. Nonetheless, most clerks grudgingly accepted Pamela’s close supervision.
    She had a guarded trust in them, but she suspected a new clerk, Sarah Evans, of merely appearing to comply. She was a beautiful, well-mannered young woman with a British accent who had a remarkable familiarity with jewelry and a persuasive way of selling it, qualities most clerks lacked. Her eyes, however, betrayed a cunning intelligence. She appeared to be looking for an opportunity to pilfer.
    Pamela grew increasingly uneasy about Sarah’s fascination with the more expensive diamonds; she studied them at every free moment. Pamela decided to find out if there were grounds for suspicion. One day at the closing hour, she disguised herself in the old clothes that she kept in an empty closet for a rainy day and followed the clerk through congested streets to Old Bohemia, an inexpensive restaurant, full of clerks and artisans.
    A heavily bearded man with a large mustache, sitting alone at a table in the rear of the room, signaled Evans to join him. They shook hands as if they were partners, rather than lovers. On close inspection, he could appear handsome, even distinguished, were it not for that excess of facial hair. To judge from his affected gestures, he should also have been dressed in a fashionable tailored suit. But he wore common clothes as if to blend in with the restaurant’s clientele.
    Through the meal their conversation grew earnest. Pamela had sat too far away to hear them, but she etched the man’s physical appearance and manner in her mind. Afterward, the couple left the restaurant. Pamela tried to follow but lost them in the street crowd.
    Then on Wednesday, 26 April, near the closing hour, a well dressed, dignified gentleman wearing a neatly trimmed beard and mustache walked into the jewelry department. Pamela soon recognized him, despite his altered appearance, as the clerk’s handsome acquaintance. He briefly browsed at several counters until he came to Sarah’s. They pretended not to know each other. To Pamela, that was a sure sign of deception. As the clerk was about to reach for a very expensive diamond ring, Pamela hurried up to her. If the pair were professional