WEDNESDAY MORNING,
OCTOBER 4, 1871
- Who’s to Blame? -
Justin had thought all night Tuesday about ways to pay the store—and Father—the difference between a silver chain and a fourteen-karat white-gold chain. He wondered how he could ever explain the mistake.
Still, he thought Charlie should have recognized that the watch chain was white gold instead of silver. He was the great jewelry designer and the king of salesmen, wasn’t he?
There was no way around it. The fault was really Justin’s. He had rushed to finish tagging the chains, and he had made the mistake. He’d have to own up to it and face the consequences.
When Justin walked through the jewelry store door that morning—school was off that day for teacher meetings—Charlie, who was behind a counter, put up both hands and shook his head.
“Father discovered the chain is missing,” Charlie whispered. “He’s upset, Justin.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. It’s up to you to explain what happened—not me. He wants to see you in his office right away.”
Justin took a deep breath and headed to the back of the store, where his father was working on the books. He looked up when he saw Justin. “Did you know there’s a chain missing? A fourteen-karat white-gold chain? Do you know where it is?”
Justin hesitated, trying to find a way to deflect the blame. “No, Father, I … don’t know … Er … it was here yesterday when I tagged it.” If Father thinks it was stolen … well, he wouldn’t blame me, would he? Sure, that’s the way to go … just let Father think someone stole it.
“Are you telling me someone came into the store and no one was around to keep an eye on things? Where were you? Where was Charlie? This shop should never be open when there’s no one to watch over the jewelry. Why, any street kid could come in here and steal—” Father suddenly stopped speaking and slammed a fist onto the worktable. “A street kid. Of course! It’s that little thief you brought into our house—that Poppy. She’s the one who stole that chain!”
At first Justin was speechless. Sure, Poppy was a street kid from Conley’s Patch, but there was no reason to believe … “Oh, no, Father … Poppy wasn’t even in the store—”
Father interrupted Justin. “Don’t try to protect her, Justin. We both know who stole that watch chain. Don’t we?”
“I don’t think Poppy would …”
“Of course she would … and she did! Who else could it be? Poppy knows the store. You’ve had her in here before. Claire brings her into our house and gives her clothes and food! I said a wild thing like Poppy would bite the hand that feeds her, and she has! That’s the thanks we get for being nice to that … street urchin!”
Charlie came into the room. “What’s going on?”
“You go back out into the showroom right now,” Father ordered, “before someone else comes in and robs us.”
Charlie looked puzzled. “Father, if I have to leave the showroom, I always lock the front door. What do you mean, ‘before someone else comes in and robs us’? Who’s robbed us?”
“Who do you think? Poppy, of course.” Father crossed his arms over his chest. “You know she was brought up in Conley’s Patch. They teach them how to steal from the time they can walk.”
Charlie’s eyes darted to Justin. “Is that what Justin told you? That Poppy stole the chain?”
“No, but the chain was stolen—and who else was around here? Poppy! It’s obvious.”
“Er … I don’t think Poppy was inside the store yesterday, was she, Ch-charlie?” Justin stammered.
“I only heard her out on the sidewalk with Claire,” Charlie said. “Before that, I don’t know.”
“Apparently you weren’t in the showroom all the time,” Father said accusingly. “Or you’d have seen her.” He turned to Justin. “Don’t try to protect that girl. We all know who stole that chain. You’ve got to get it back, Justin. And Claire will need to know she must not let Poppy into our house again.”
“But, Father,” Justin began.
“Not another word,” Father said. “Be glad I don’t call the police this time. But if she ever steals from us again, I am calling the police.” He walked out into the other room, leaving Charlie and Justin alone in the workshop.
“Why did you tell him the chain was stolen?” Charlie asked.
“I didn’t. He just assumed it was stolen. He didn’t give me a chance to explain what really happened,” Justin whispered.
“You’re willing to let him believe Poppy stole it?”
“We know she didn’t take it, Charlie, but if Father thinks it was stolen, he won’t blame us.”
“It’s not right to put the blame on Poppy.”
“Well then, why don’t you tell Father you didn’t know the difference between sterling and white gold?” Justin challenged.
“I did know the difference. That’s why I went in and checked the invoice list. But you don’t know the difference between eight dollars and eighty dollars and you are the one who put the wrong price on the tag.”
Justin felt a lump in his throat—the kind that came when he was about to cry. “If I tell Father what really happened, he’ll think I’m stupid. He’ll never let me work in the store again.”
“I think the right thing to do is tell the truth. He will be mad, but it’s better than lying.”
“I’ll tell him. Just give me some more time, Charlie. I want to figure out the best way—so he won’t be too mad at me.”
Charlie nodded curtly and left the room, leaving Justin alone with his fears.