Death of a Robber Baron Read Free

sympathetically. “As you suspect, madam, your husband lost heavily in shares of a bogus Michigan copper mine.”
    â€œDid Henry Jennings truly deceive him?”
    â€œYes,” Prescott replied. “Jennings had paid dearly to open the mine in an area of great promise. But his engineers soon told him that the vein of copper quickly thinned out to nothing. Rather than give up the project and take the loss, Jennings sold the rights to a dummy company, of which he was the hidden owner, and offered shares for sale. His glowing, false prospectus deceived many investors, including your husband. Jennings walked away with a huge profit before the company collapsed. The investors lost everything.”
    â€œHow much damage has been done to us thus far?”
    â€œUnfortunately, your husband purchased with your home as collateral. To recoup his losses, he has continued to play the stock market—recklessly, in my opinion. Recently, he lost again. I’ve heard that his job at the savings bank is in jeopardy. As a detective, I must suspect that he embezzled.”
    â€œThis is terrible!” she exclaimed. “We’ll be ruined. Is there any way to punish Jennings and recover the stolen money?”
    â€œNone that is legal.”
    â€œThen someone among the investors might take it upon himself to seek justice outside the law.” Her voice shook with anxiety. “Jack has recently bought a pistol.”
    Prescott nodded. “When I learned about the pistol, I had him followed. He stalked Jennings but couldn’t find an opportunity to confront him. Jennings is frequently away on trips to his mines and railroads.”
    â€œThe devil must guard the rogue.” Her gaze drifted to a wedding portrait of her husband, a decent, upright man. Sadness mixed with pity nearly overwhelmed her. “How is Jack coping? He must be desperate.”
    â€œI’m afraid so,” Prescott replied. “He has given up the idea of revenge, but he now seems bent on punishing himself. During the past few days, his movements have become erratic. He frequents a brothel, takes long walks late at night, eats irregularly, and drinks more whiskey than he should. I don’t know how he’ll survive.”
    Prescott searched Pamela’s face, as if uncertain whether to continue.
    â€œDon’t hold anything back. I must know the worst.”
    â€œThen I must tell you that he’ll soon go bankrupt, thereby threatening the loss of your home and all your other joint assets.”
    Pamela struggled to take in what Prescott had just told her. She had expected it, but nonetheless it shocked her.
    â€œAre you well, madam?” Prescott gazed at her solicitously.
    â€œI feel distressed that my husband has betrayed me. I should confront him. Do you agree?”
    He nodded. “You must immediately get a legal separation to protect your assets from his creditors. I’ve prepared the documents to begin the legal process. He must sign them.”
    â€œI see no other course. Let’s go to his office at the bank.”
    â€œDo you want me to accompany you?”
    â€œThat might be a good idea. He would take you seriously.”

    When Pamela and Prescott arrived at the bank, police were blocking the main entrance on Union Square. With Pamela at his side, Prescott approached a uniformed officer whom he recognized and asked what had happened.
    â€œA man has just shot himself.” The officer added firmly, “For the time being, we can’t let anyone in or out.”
    Prescott turned to Pamela. “It’s probably Jack.”
    â€œMy God! I pray that it isn’t him.”
    Prescott said to the officer, “The dead man is most likely this woman’s husband, the bank cashier. I’m her lawyer. We could be helpful to the investigation.”
    The officer mulled over this information, then waved them in. They made their way to the office of Mr. Fisher, the bank’s