HENRY KAUFMAN AND HIS FRIENDS had been toying with us the way a barn cat teases a fledgling fallen from its nest: viciously, but unhurriedly. So it was with some relief that we received, in the middle of November, his most serious and specific threat against us.
Now, at last, we had a date and a place.
Madam—We demand $1000 or we will kill you. Give Monee to girl dressed in black at the corner of Broadway and Carroll street, Paterson, Saturday night at eight o’clock. If you don’t pay we will fire your house and take that girl of yours. We know your horse and wagon. We live in Paterson. Ha ha!
—H. K. & Co.
I read it and pushed it to the middle of the table. We all looked at Deputy Morris, who happened to be on duty the afternoon it arrived. When he didn’t say anything, each of us spoke at once.
“Well,” I said. “This time we’ll catch him.”
“A thousand dollars!” Fleurette said. “Is that what I’m worth?”
“Stop that,” Norma said. “And we won’t pay it.”
The deputy reacted to our chorus of voices by standing up and announcing, “This is a matter for Sheriff Heath to decide. You ladies go about your business. He’ll be here soon enough.”
But a storm came on that night, pushing hail and freezing rain across the fields in waves. Every time we thought it had let up, another icy draft blew through. The weather must have delayed the sheriff, and there was nothing to do but wait. The deputies had been on duty for over twelve hours. I finally convinced them to come in for a bowl of soup and a hot bun. Ordinarily it was forbidden for them to dine with us, but these men had expected to be home for supper and weren’t. They had to have something.
Around ten Norma and Fleurette gave up and went to bed. I stayed up and walked the dark house for another hour until at last I heard the tires of Sheriff Heath’s automobile in our gravel drive.
His deputies ran out to tell him about the letter, and soon he was standing in the parlor with four of his men around him, the two that were going off duty and the two that were starting the night shift. The room was filled with the smell of wet wool and smoke from the camp stove in our barn. Sheriff Heath took a seat on the divan, placed his hat on his knees, and read the letter to himself. When he was finished, he looked up at me, searching my face for something, then read it again.
“Take a walk around back,” he told his men. “Carry a lamp and check the bushes and the outbuildings. Then wait for me in the barn.”
When they were gone, he said, “Sit down. I have something to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“Just—sit.”
I dropped down next to him and waited. He rubbed his eyes and held his forehead in his hands, breathing so quietly that I thought he had fallen asleep right in front of me. At last he pulled his hands away and turned to look at me, his eyes watery and red.
He swallowed hard. “Miss Kopp. I’ve tried everything in my power to stop this man. I’ve followed him around town, I’ve watched his house, I’ve spoken to his sister and his business associates, and, for that matter, I’ve spoken to him. I’ve tried to build a case for the prosecutor but they fight me on it. They’ve never charged a factory owner with any kind of crime and they’re not inclined to start now. The Kaufmans are a powerful family. They own mills in three states. They can get all the silk men behind them.”
He waited to make sure I understood. I nodded, and he continued.
“I’ve also devoted more deputies to your protection than the sheriff’s office can readily afford. The Freeholders fight with me over every invoice I submit to them. They make it nearly impossible for me to get my men paid. So far I’ve been able to hide the expense, but if they find out how much they are spending on this one case, I’ll be held to account.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize—”
He held up his hand to silence me. “That’s not your concern. What does concern you is the fact that we need to bring this matter to a resolution quickly. We cannot spend the rest of the winter lying in wait.”
Once again he paused and waited for my agreement. I nodded and he went on.
“This letter gives us an opportunity. I would like you to go to Paterson on Saturday night as the letter instructs. You will carry your revolver and I will post men all around you. We will make sure nothing happens to you. But we must try to catch this girl in black or whoever might be with her.”
“Of course,” I blurted out. “We have to. I can do it. I’ve become quite practiced with the revolver.” I might have sounded a little too eager to get a shot at Henry Kaufman. The sheriff looked over at me worriedly and seemed to take a minute to make up his mind.
“All right. That’s fine,” he said at last. “But that’s not all I want you to do.”
What else could there be? I squared my shoulders and waited.
“I think we should go to the papers,” he said.
“The papers? Do you mean that we should let them write about us?” Norma would not like this idea. Other people’s troubles belonged in the paper for the world to read about, not ours.
“Yes. I want to let them write a story about your vigil on the street corner. You will give them a full account of what has happened, going all the way back to July. Let them report on the events of Saturday night, whatever they may be, and run their stories in the papers on Monday.”
“But why would you want reporters meddling in this?”
He leaned back and rested his head against the divan. “It will force the prosecutor to take notice,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “The Freeholders don’t like to see unsolved crimes in the paper. They complain about the bills from the prosecutor’s office as much as they complain about mine. They want to see that they are getting their money’s worth. If the papers run this story, the prosecutor will be made to answer for his lack of action.” He looked over at me. “What do you think, Miss Kopp?”
I could feel my face flush. “We’ve always been a very private family.”
“I know. You stay out here on this country road, with acres between you and the nearest neighbor. None of you seem to belong to any social clubs. I’ve never seen you entertain friends or school chums or gentlemen. For whatever reason, the three of you have made up your mind to stay out of sight. I know this won’t be easy for you. But I think the only way to bring these men to trial is to begin with a trial in the papers, as distasteful as that is.”
The decision was mine to make, really. Norma would be opposed to it, Fleurette would beg to sit for an interview, and it would be up to me to cast the deciding vote.
“Don’t you think that drawing attention to him in the papers will only provoke him?”
“I don’t think Henry Kaufman could be more provoked than he is right now.” Sheriff Heath pulled out his watch. “It’s almost midnight. Get some sleep. You can tell me in the morning.”
I nodded and he rose to leave. In spite of his fatigue, he always stood very straight. He walked stiffly to the door and then he was gone, leaving me alone in the dark with my decision.