Pilfered Promises

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by M. Louisa Locke


  What followed was a half hour spent trotting behind Livingston as he swept through the first floor, starting with the stationery and book department located to the right of the front entrance. The tall windows on Sutter poured the early morning light on the leather-bound volumes filling rows of shelves. In addition, handsome wooden counters held boxes of embossed notepaper and greeting cards, notebooks of every shape and size, scrapbooks, diaries, school slates, writing desks, stencil plates, inkwells, fountain pens, and some of the MacKinnon stylographic pens Nate had found so useful. He also recognized the desk set his sister had given him for his birthday.

  He would have liked to linger in this section, but Livingston hurried them on to the center of the store, pointing out the counters stocked with every conceivable kind and color of dress goods, including silks, satins, plain and plaid wools, rich velvets, and bright cotton prints. In the center of this department were four counters arranged in a square that displayed bundles of ribbons, rolls of lace, boxes of buttons, and all sorts of the gewgaws that some women (not his Annie, thank goodness) seemed to feel should be sewn onto every garment. Nate thought this was probably where Mrs. Kemper filched the ribbons.

  He’d also noticed that there was a very prominent display of umbrellas at the front of the store. No doubt to make it easy for a passer-by to nip in and purchase one if the sunny but chilly autumn weather finally turned stormy. Also very convenient for a petty thief who wanted something to hide smaller objects in as they wandered through the rest of the store.

  Livingston next led them to the sporting goods and children’s toy departments located in the back of the first floor. This area was clearly his pride and joy. There were children’s books, dolls and stuffed animals, and board and card games of all sorts, all of them arranged on low shelves at a child’s height. There were also skates, baseball bats and balls, footballs, tennis and badminton rackets and nets. There were even a couple of the bicycles called “Columbia High Wheelers” that Jamie, Annie’s young boarder, coveted. Nate pictured himself shopping here for a birthday or a Christmas present for a son or a daughter, sometime in the future. He looked over at Annie and smiled.

  She smiled back at him and said to Mr. Livingston, “I was telling my husband earlier that Macy’s is the only large emporium I have been in before, and I must say the Silver Strike compares very favorably to that store, which I thought very badly arranged.”

  Livingston puffed out his chest at Annie’s praise, but he said, “Rowland Macy was a visionary…no doubt about that, and Webster and Wheeler have done a good job of building on what Macy started. But they’ve had to do it piecemeal. All higgledy piggledy.”

  “Am I correct in remembering that your partner, Monsieur Villeneuve, actually worked for Mr. Macy at one time?” Annie asked.

  “Yes, yes. He was the head of the Ladies’ department in the sixties. One of the reasons I was delighted when he agreed to become my partner was his innovative suggestions about how to improve on Macy’s layout…that and his excellent contacts in Europe. We may not be as large as Macy’s…or even cover as much floor space as Davidson’s and Weill’s White House or Verdier’s City of Paris, but I believe we do as large a volume in business, in part because of our efficient organization and excellent staff.”

  Livingston then frowned, and Nate wondered how much the thefts he wanted Annie to investigate were costing the company––and who among the “excellent staff” was involved. Behind each counter they’d passed stood a young man or woman dressed neatly in somber colors, each smiling broadly as their employer wished them good morning by name. At the end of every other counter stood youngsters, called cash girls, who Livingston explained would run the goods, receipts, and money to the two cashiers installed at the back of the store in order to get the parcels wrapped and make change. Each department in the store also had someone called a floorwalker whose job was to greet and direct customers as well as to oversee the clerks when the managers were not there. Mr. Jenkins who’d they met first on Saturday and a self-effacing young man named Mr. Brown were introduced as the first floor managers, to whom the clerks, cash girls, and floorwalkers reported.

  All very efficient. But with all these employees, how would Annie ever discover who was stealing?

  Annie could tell that Nate was feeling just a tad overwhelmed as they followed Livingston into the elevator to go up to the second floor. She had a hundred questions she wanted to ask the Silver Strike owner, but she decided to wait until Nate left them. For now, it was enough to just try to take in the physical organization of the store and remember the names of the managers and floorwalkers being introduced to her.

  “I gather Mr. Jenkins has been with you for some time?” she said as the elevator began to rise.

  “Yes, indeed. He came to work with me at my first dry goods store on Kearny. Learned the business from the ‘first barrel of shoes up’ as I always say.”

  Annie sincerely hoped, then, that Jenkins wasn’t the source of the problems.

  As the door opened on the second floor, a tantalizing smell of fresh bread assaulted her, and the first thing she saw to her right were etched glass doors that were open to reveal what looked to be an exclusive restaurant.

  “Oh my, I had read that you’d built a ladies tea room…but I had no idea.”

  Annie marveled at the luxuriously appointed room, with dark walls and a ceiling whose carved wood gleamed in the light from multiple silver and crystal chandeliers. Crisp white linens and expensive place settings of highly polished silver, etched glassware, and imported bone china covered cozily arranged tables. Uniformed waiters quietly bustled around, putting out arrangements of fresh-cut autumn flowers, pouring water into the glasses, and placing wicker baskets of sweet-smelling pastries on the tables.

  “We have a full-service kitchen that provides both a breakfast and luncheon menu, then of course our patrons can have tea or coffee anytime the store is open,” Livingston said. “In the afternoons, I have scheduled different musicians from the local conservatory to come play. It’s good experience for them and provides a soothing atmosphere for a woman who has gotten a bit frazzled completing all of her shopping.”

  “It’s quite impressive, sir,” Nate said. “Are men permitted to dine here as well?”

  “Certainly, certainly. Quite a few men who work nearby meet their wives for lunch. However, we also have a gentlemen’s smoking lounge on the third floor, where the mens’ and boys’ clothing and furnishings are located. A pleasant refuge for a man who has accompanied his wife shopping but has no desire to linger on this floor, which as you will see is primarily designed to serve the ladies.”

  With this statement, Livingston led them into a tour of the second floor, which, unlike the first, was physically divided into a series of smaller more intimate spaces, like parlors. Here, ready-made women’s and children’s clothing of different types hung on racks that were interspersed with mirrors and upholstered settees.

  This floor also had several ladies’ dressing rooms where clothes and more intimate undergarments like corsets could be tried on. Livingston showed them one room where the lighting was designed specifically to show women what their evening wear would look like in a ballroom or theater.

  Annie thought this an extremely clever idea.

  She also noticed that the millinery department included, in addition to beautifully decorated but expensive hats, stacks of untrimmed hats and bonnets of different shapes and sizes and boxes filled with all the trimmings a woman would need to assemble her own unique creations. This was a smart way to appeal to women of all incomes.

  There was also a shoe department and two counters holding gloves and shawls. As on the first floor, each department had several clerks and cash girls and four floorwalkers and another two cashiers. However, unlike on the first floor, the two managers here were both female, not surprising given the nature of the goods sold.

  Annie noted that some of the cash girls were quite young––no more than twelve––if
their small statures were an indication of their ages rather than the effects of malnourishment. Could the girl she saw on the fourth floor on Saturday be one of these girls? But she’d looked younger and much better dressed.

  As they approached the elevator again, Livingston looked at his watch, which Annie was amused to see was silver instead of the usual gold, and told them that they would just have time for a quick look into the third floor before the store opened.

  Nate said, “If you don’t mind, sir, I will leave you two now. I have some work I need to get done this morning at my office. And since the third floor holds the men’s furnishings…I am afraid if my wife gets me near that department I am going to be asked to choose some new waist coats!”

  It was with a bit of a pang that Nate watched the elevator door close on Annie and Livingston, but he could tell his wife was chomping at the bit to start asking the store owner questions about the thefts. Something he might feel freer discussing without Nate present. And he did have more work to do before his meeting with Violet’s father.

  Nate wasn’t looking forward to that discussion. Men like Kemper generally didn’t like being beholden to anyone, and he didn’t want to do anything that could damage his brother Billy’s relationship with his father-in-law. Well, he’d let the man take the lead. He suspected Kemper would go the “my wife is a poor confused little woman” route, which was all right with Nate. As long as he signed the document. He was just glad Annie wouldn’t be at the meeting. He could imagine her reaction to that line of argument.

  The door to the freight elevator, which was the only one that went all the way to the basement, was located down a short corridor behind the restaurant. When Nate entered the elevator, accompanied by one of the second floor porters whom Livingston had asked to escort him, he asked the operator to take them down to the basement. This was the elevator he’d used to escort Violet and Mrs. Kemper out of the building on Saturday.

  As the elevator door closed, Nate said to the porter, “Are there any other exits to the store besides the front entrance on Sutter and the ones in the basement?”

  The porter, a young wide-shouldered Irishman, said, “No, sir. Just the front, which be locked between six when the store closes and nine the next morning. And the basement doors, which are always locked when no one’s around.”

  Exiting the freight elevator, Nate saw that there was a good deal more activity in the basement than he’d seen last Saturday. There were boxes piled up at the bottom of the concrete ramp that sloped up to the large double doors to the alley at the back of the store, and several men were pushing wheelbarrows piled with more boxes down the ramp. At the top stood a half-empty wagon and a team of two enormous dray horses, from whom steam rose in the chill November air.

  A man with a notebook stood at the bottom of the ramp, apparently writing down a description of each of the boxes and pointing to which stack they should be added.

  “Looks to me like you could drive a whole wagon down in through those doors if you needed,” Nate remarked.

  “Last August when that Italian circus came to town, we did bring in a wagon of two tigers, then moved their cages up the freight elevator to the main floor. That was something!”

  “Why did Livingston want two tigers?”

  “Opening day for the fall sales. There were clowns and young ladies juggling and them tigers. Sure did bring ’em in. Whole families came and then stayed to shop. I heard rumors that the old man is trying to hire a baby elephant for next year.”

  Nate would have liked to ask more questions, but the porter motioned to a tall thin man to unlock the regular door that led directly to the alley, so he simply thanked him for his time. No doubt Annie would learn all the details of how goods came into the store, and they could share their impressions when he got home tonight. But it seemed a safe bet that if goods were going missing…the answers might be found in the comings and goings of this back exit.

  Annie’s guided tour of the third floor was cut short when a handsome young man whom Livingston introduced as his son Robbie came up and said there was an urgent problem with the latest delivery of furs that needed his father’s immediate attention. Annie saw that customers were already beginning to exit the elevator and appear at the top of the two staircases on either side of the floor, so she could understand Livingston’s need to handle quickly whatever situation had come up.

  Before leaving her, Livingston waved over a stout middle-aged gentleman with curly mutton-chop sideburns, saying, “Mr. Gower, would you mind showing Mrs. Dawson around your department? She’s going to be giving me some financial advice, and I would like her to see how our departments are organized.”

  He then apologized and followed his son to the far side of the men’s clothing department.

  Mr. Gower’s own bailiwick turned out to be home furnishings, and Annie saw instantly that here was a man who enjoyed his work. He confided that it was his own idea to arrange this department as if each section was a separate room you would find in an elegant home—an elegant home with rooms large enough to contain multiple versions of everything.

  The parlor room contained at least six different settees and chairs, each of a different size, shape and upholstery; and the dining room had oval and rectangular tables in mahogany, cherry, rosewood, walnut and oak. On the tables were displayed expensive cutlery, glasses, and china. The children’s bedrooms featured wicker baby carriages, cradles, cribs, trundle beds, and small single beds that were made up in linens with prints suitable for boys and girls, while the other bedrooms sported some handsome, albeit old-fashioned, sleigh-shaped beds, elaborately carved pineapple-post beds, and a few of the new gilded cast-iron bedsteads that Annie personally thought hideous. These rooms also had matching wardrobes, washstands, toilet tables, and beautiful screens and chaise lounges. And every room was carpeted with rugs in a variety of colors and designs.

  Annie found the effect of these over-decorated spaces overpowering. Consequently, she felt a certain relief when they moved on to the model bathroom, even though it was three times the size of any ordinary bathroom. In this space, the white porcelain sinks, tubs, and water closets with their silver fixtures were down-right restful, with the only spots of colors coming from the gaily embroidered linen towels.

  And the kitchen! While she loved the homey quality of the O’Farrell boarding house kitchen, with its scarred wooden table, large iron wood-burning cookstove, and deep porcelain sink, she knew from her brief experience as a servant that some of the more modern coal-burning stoves made cooking much easier. This kitchen had wood-burning, coal-burning and even one gas-burning stove, with double ovens, water reservoirs above and next to the ovens, and warming shelves, all done in gleaming cast iron decorated with different designs. Her cook, Beatrice O’Rourke, might say she was perfectly content with her old wood-burner, but Annie wondered how long it would take to save up enough money to buy one of these coal-burning beauties for her kitchen.

  Gower bounced on the balls of his feet as he enumerated the benefits of each of the ovens. Then he pointed at an attractive young clerk who was showing a customer how one of the wooden ice boxes worked, saying, “Do stop by this afternoon if you can. Miss Tolliver there is giving a demonstration on how best to prepare Thanksgiving turkeys for next week’s holiday. Every day this week we are featuring a different dish. This Friday, Mr. Livingston’s own cook is going to demonstrate making pies…I understand her pecan pie is especially delicious.”

  Annie returned Gower’s broad smile, hoping he wouldn’t turn out to be the source of the thefts. But she couldn’t go into this investigation with pre-conceived notions; she’d found herself in deep trouble in the past when she had done so. She did have difficulty imagining many of the objects for sale in the home furnishings department walking out the door. They were generally too big to be hidden in a ladies’ umbrella or under her skirts. Nate’s law partner, Able Cranston, told him he’d once defended a woman who’d hung several expensive necklaces and bracelets f
rom the wire framework of her bustle. Much harder to do with even the smaller objects she saw in this department like cast-iron frying pans, coffee grinders, or ice cream churns.

  However, the counters in the men and boys’ department to her left were filled with small moveable objects––from suspenders to caps to cravats. Not to mention more expensive items like jeweled tie pins, gold cufflinks, silk ties and vests, and silver-backed combs, brushes, and nail buffers. The kind of goods that would be easy to pilfer. And if someone was able to figure out how to walk out with one of the furs from this floor––well, that could add up to a pretty penny. This reminded her that Livingston’s son said there was some problem with furs, and she glanced in their direction to see that the son appeared quite agitated as he spoke to his father.

  “Mr. Gower,” Annie said when the man’s rhapsodizing about pecan pies ended, “I gather that Mr. Livingston’s son is following in his father’s footsteps. Is he a partner in the firm?”

  “No, he’s not…yet. I am afraid they have a slightly different vision for the company. Robert is committed to ensuring the Silver Strike Bazaar is serving everyone in the city, from the wealthiest matron to the hardest working servant. His son wants the store to be more exclusive. So Robert thought it would do Robbie good to work as a manager for a while before bringing him in as a partner.”

  Annie noticed a slight diminution of Gower’s general air of good cheer, but his frown was so fleeting she wondered if it was just her imagination working over time again. She said, “Sounds like you, yourself, have worked with Mr. Livingston for some time?”

  “Actually, no. I just started with the firm two years ago when this store opened. But I’ve known Robert Livingston and Robbie forever. You see, Livingston opened up his first dry goods store in ’62, right next to my furniture store on Kearney. Gower’s Fine Furniture. He moved on, of course, once he began to expand in the seventies. But we remained friends, and when he decided to build the Silver Strike and wanted to include a home furnishings department, he asked me to join him.”

 

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