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

He’ll eat a light lunch at the University Athletic Club and spend the rest of the afternoon on the tennis court.”
    â€œHow did you get this information?”
    â€œAllen’s manservant, Frederick. He hasn’t been paid in months. So I gave him ten dollars, promised him more, and told him to go bowling.”
    â€œI’ll charge Allen for that bribe. Now let’s go inside.”
    In a minute, Miller opened the door, and they walked up a stairway to the first floor parlor. Paintings hung slightly askew on the walls, a thin layer of dust covered a coffee table, and the air was stale. The dining room appeared equally unused. A search of the two rooms for stolen goods proved unfruitful.
    â€œAs you can see, the Allens do not entertain,” Miller remarked as they climbed to the second floor. “In fact they rarely sit down together.”
    Helen Allen’s apartment consisted of a bedroom, a study, and a large parlor with a dining area. A dumbwaiter brought food up from the kitchen. The rooms were clean and tastefully furnished. In the bedroom Miller picked open a small, locked chest filled with elegant, expensive rings, bracelets, necklaces, and other jewelry. “These are gifts from Henry Jennings, not stolen goods. Look.” Miller picked up a bundle of note cards with affectionate messages from Jennings to Helen on various occasions.
    The third floor was George Allen’s apartment, organized on a plan similar to his wife’s, but lacking order. Clothes were strewn over the furniture. Piles of old magazines lay helter-skelter on the floor. Remnants of breakfast were left on the dining table. “Allen just camps here, apparently,” said Prescott. “Still, we should search his rooms.”
    An hour later, Miller shouted from Allen’s study, “Look here!” He held up a handful of papers that he had retrieved from a drawer in the desk, initialed copies of messages between Allen and Sarah Evans. Prescott sat at the desk to read them. At first, their lack of affection surprised him. He had expected evidence of an illicit romance. Instead, he found a cryptic business correspondence, mostly concerning the dates, times, and places of meetings at various stores, public buildings, and homes.
    Prescott called out to Miller in the next room. “Here’s the University Athletic Club and the date Sarah Evans stole the ring. Somehow she must have passed it to George.”
    Several messages exchanged in late March caught his eye—skimpy references to Macy’s and the Old Bohemia restaurant and a livery stable. Still, they weren’t enough to convict Allen and Evans in court.
    Miller appeared at the door and beckoned. “For more evidence, follow me.” He led Prescott to Allen’s dressing room and opened a large cabinet filled with a wide assortment of gentlemen’s clothes. From a drawer Miller pulled out various false beards and mustaches. On shelves behind the clothing were several realistic wigs.
    He remarked, “Allen must be Sarah’s bearded partner.”
    â€œCorrect,” said Prescott. “The only reasonable, yet incredible, conclusion is that George Allen is a jewel thief.” He paused and reflected. “I wonder how much of this evidence Wilson has discovered. If he knows as much as we do, will he report it to Henry Jennings or to the police?”
    â€œWho knows?” Miller added, “Wilson might join the thieves and share the spoils. He needs the money. Jennings pays him poorly.”
    Â 
    As they walked back to the office, Miller asked Prescott, “How far shall we pursue George Allen?”
    â€œHe should be punished for trying to injure or kill Mrs. Thompson, as well as for thieving. There isn’t enough evidence yet to prosecute him. We need to find stolen goods. So, keep looking. I’ll go to Lenox tomorrow morning to deal with Reilly.”

C HAPTER 13
    A Dangerous Complication
    Lenox, 2