Read Online Death of a Robber Baron by Charles O'Brien - Free Book Online

department is down. You’ve succeeded without causing any unpleasantness.”
    â€œThank you.” She was very pleased but tried not to blush. “I’ve trained the clerks to be more observant. Most wealthy would-be thieves are out for a thrill. Their shifty eyes betray them. And they often give off a certain scent. I imagine that professional thieves would be more difficult to detect.”
    Prescott leaned back in his chair, inclining his head. “I’m truly surprised that they attacked you. If they were planning another attempt to steal jewelry from Macy’s, they would make their task riskier by violently removing you from the jewelry department. You might have already reported your suspicions to the store detective. Your injury or death under suspicious circumstances would heighten his concern, and he would have alerted the floorwalker. The thieves would probably have walked into a trap.”
    â€œPerhaps,” suggested Pamela, “they are amateur thieves, seeking revenge, thrills, or adventure as well as loot.”
    â€œYou have a point. True professionals would have calculated the risks more prudently. Whether amateur or not, these two may continue to pose a danger to you as well as to others. I’ll ask Harry Miller to discover their identity.”
    She rose to leave and walked to the door. Prescott opened it, gazed at her, then murmured gently, “You dodged death last night. I’m sorry. I didn’t think working at Macy’s could be so dangerous.”
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    A week later, early in the morning, Pamela went shopping in the market at Union Square. This was a deeply satisfying hour of her day. A variety of flowers and fresh spring vegetables were arranged to delight the eye. Merchants and shoppers nodded and smiled at each other and exchanged friendly remarks about the crops and the weather. Pamela could imagine herself in a charming country village, rather than in the raw, steaming metropolis.
    While she was inspecting a bunch of daffodils, she felt the presence of someone close behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Dennis Reilly stood scarcely a foot away, clean-shaven and groomed. His clothes were cheap and ill fitting but clean. He carried himself like a gentleman. But his eyes burned with hate.
    He glared at her, muttering, “Bitch. I’ve paid my debt to society and reformed my life. So I’ve gone to court to get my daughter, Brenda, back. Get out of my way. If you try to stop me, you’ll be sorry.”
    For a moment she felt numb and paralyzed. Her body began to tremble. She breathed deeply, struggled to remain calm, and set off for her rooms. Reilly followed her at a distance. She thought of trying to evade him, but he surely knew where she and Brenda lived. Once in her rooms, she locked and bolted the door and hurried to the window. Reilly was across the street, looking up at her. He must have seen her, for he waved, a scowl on his face.
    Brenda came out of her room dressed for school. “What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.
    â€œYour father is across the street, stalking us. I’ll take you to school before going to Macy’s, and I’ll pick you up at the end of the day. He could try to kidnap you. I’ll talk to Prescott. His office clerk will know where he is. He has to do something. We can’t live like this.”
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    Early in the afternoon, Pamela found Prescott in Gramercy Park, walking briskly up and down the paths. She caught his attention, and he unlocked the gate. She glanced at the key. He smiled and remarked, “A friend who lives here lends it to me. This is the only place in Lower Manhattan where I can find peace and quiet and good air. Please join me. You seem to have something on your mind.”
    As they walked in the park, she described her encounter with Dennis Reilly in Union Square. “He’s applied for custody of Brenda. If I refuse to step aside, he’ll do whatever it