by Chris Enss
The woman’s hand and wrist were hooked in the arm of a tall man, dark and lanky, wrapped in a heavy traveling shawl. He wore a broad-brimmed felt hat low on his head and was careful to look down as he hurried along. When he and his escort reached the car, the woman presented her tickets to the conductor, who had arrived on the scene at the same time. “My invalid brother and I are attending a family party,” she volunteered. After examining the tickets for a moment, the conductor stepped aside to allow the pair to board. Protectively and tenderly, the woman took her brother’s arm and helped him to the stairs leading up the train. With a hint of reluctance, the lean, angular man climbed aboard.3
The porter at the top of the steps kindly greeted the siblings and escorted them down a long, narrow passageway to their seats. The man and woman followed along obediently.
The conductor signaled the engineer and called out “All’s well!” The three men in gray and black suits who had stepped off the train spanned out in different directions, one to the back of the passenger car, and two of them heading toward the engine. The pair carefully surveyed the area around the vehicle, and when it seemed no one suspicious was loitering about, they jumped back on the train; as the train built up steam and pulled away from the station, the keen-eyed protectors continued to be on guard.4
Back inside, the porter deposited sister and brother in front of a double door that led to a sleeper car. The accommodations were modest, with an upper and lower berth on either side of the narrow walkway. The shades on the windows next to the berths were down so no one could see in or out. Allan Pinkerton, a hefty Scotsman with a beard and no mustache, considered the man and woman standing in the entrance of the car. After a brief, tense moment the tall man shed the shawl around his shoulders, removed his hat, and extended a hand to Allan to shake. Allan smiled slightly and took the man’s hand. “Mr. Lincoln,” he proudly responded. President-elect Abraham Lincoln responded with a grin. The politician turned to the woman next to him and handed her his shawl. “I am sensible, ma’am,” he said sincerely, “of having put you to some inconvenience—not to speak of placing you in danger.”5
“Kate . . . Mrs. Warne,” Allan announced, “is one of the Pinkerton Agency’s most competent detectives.”
“I believe it has not hitherto been one of the prerequisites of the presidency to acquire in full bloom so charming and accomplished a female relation,” Mr. Lincoln added.
Kate looked up into the kindly face of the president-elect and smiled graciously. The train whistle sounded, and Mr. Lincoln crowded himself and his worn, traveling bag into one of the berths. Kate took a seat on a bench between the president-elect and the door of the car. Her chief article of baggage was a loaded pistol.6
Chicago in the summer of 1856 was booming. Since its incorporation in 1837, it had grown from a moderately populated plains town to a major lake port and industrial center. Shipping and railroad lines were established there, and hotels, churches, and theaters mushroomed around the prosperous enterprises. The streets were continually crowded with people coming and going from the numerous houses being built. The sounds of sawing, hammering, and workmen shouting were commonplace. With the growth in citizenry came a growth in crime. The need to restrain the increase in robberies and murders was great. Allan Pinkerton, a Scottish-born barrel maker turned law enforcement agent, established the first business to battle against such illegal activity.7
Chicago was experiencing explosive growth in the 1850s when Kate Warne entered the Pinkerton National Detective Agency with dreams of becoming an agent. Courtesy of the Library of Congress
Allan Pinkerton and attorney Edward A. Rucker formed the Pinkerton Detective Agency in 1850, opening an office in the heart of Chicago. In letters to potential clients, they announced that the agency would attend to the “investigation and drepredation [sic] of frauds and criminal offenses; the detection of offenders, procuring arrests and convictions, apprehension, or return of fugitives from justice, or bail; recovering lost or stolen property, obtaining information, etc.”8
In addition to Edward Rucker, Allan had a staff of a half-dozen capable men dedicated to ridding the city of outlaws that were terrorizing various communities. He was diligent about keeping records on the cases the company handled. Reviewing the material helped him to evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of the work the agency was doing, learn how to improve their success rate, and discover what new techniques needed to be employed to ensure an arrest.9
One early afternoon in 1856, Allan was reading over a file from one of the agency’s most newsworthy cases. It was the capture of Jules Imbert, a famous French forger. Pinkerton agent George H. Bangs, a tall, fine-looking man of commanding presence and a close student of human nature, was the lead detective on the investigation. Imbert had obtained four drafts (a check drawn by a bank on its own funds in another bank) amounting to $15,000 from August Belmont and Company, a popular banking firm, and by forgeries had secured over $30,000 from unsuspecting New York bankers, after which he had fled the country. He was traced by George to Canada and captured.10
With no effort at subterfuge, George accused Imbert directly of forging checks, and by sheer pluck managed to get the criminal to confess to his crime. Once Imbert had confessed, the Pinkerton agent and his prisoner started for home via the train. George fastened the forger’s right wrist to his own with his handcuffs. After traveling a hundred miles, Imbert drifted off to sleep. George, who was exhausted, followed suit. When he awoke he found, to his irritation, that the Frenchman had picked the lock of the handcuffs and escaped.11
The last stop the train made before entering the United States was a station called Fonda. George felt sure the prisoner had left the car at this point. George had the train stopped and retraced the distance on foot. It was late at night, and he went to the main hotel in town and asked for a bed, intending to begin his search in the morning. The hotel clerk said George’s only option was to share a bed already occupied by a recent arrival. Glad to sleep anywhere, George accepted the offer.
When he turned down the coverlet of the bed, he saw, to his astonishment and delight, that his companion was his recent prisoner. He quickly subdued Imbert, and the following morning the pair boarded a train and returned safely to New York. Imbert was tried, convicted, and sent to state prison, where he died eight years later.
George had been lucky in the recapture of the forger, but Allan didn’t like to depend on good fortune in apprehending suspects. He was pondering how much the company had progressed since starting the agency when his secretary announced that a young woman was waiting to see him. Allan rose to his feet as the slender, brown-eyed woman entered his office. Kate Warne politely introduced herself. She was bold and unintimidated. Allan described her in his memoirs as a lady “graceful in movement and self-possessed.” He also wrote, “Her features, although not what could be called handsome, were decidedly of an intellectual cast. Her face was honest, which would cause one in distress instinctively to select her as a confidante.”12
Kate had come to the Pinkerton Detective Agency in search of a job. She was a widow with no children, and had definite ideas about what she wanted to do for work. Allan assumed she was searching for a job as a secretary. He was surprised to learn that Kate was not looking for clerical work, but actually answering an advertisement for detectives he had placed in one of the Chicago newspapers. “It was not the custom to employ women detectives,” Allan later wrote. “Indeed, I’d never heard of a female detective.” He did not immediately dismiss the notion, and Kate wouldn’t have let him if he’d tried; she was that determined. She explained quite persuasively how she could be of service. “Women could be most useful in worming out secrets in many places which would be impossible for a male detective,” Allan remembered her saying. “A woman would be able to befriend the wives and girlfriends of suspected criminals and gain their confidence. Men become braggarts when they are around women who encourage t
hem to boast. Women have an eye for detail and are excellent observers.”
Kate had clearly thought this through, and Allan could see the rationale behind granting her request, but he asked her for twenty-four hours to consider having a woman on his payroll.
Allan was a keen businessman. His vision for the agency was for the public to see that being a detective was a profession and not merely an occupation. Allan was creating a unique service that would command a great respect for the trade. Men in his employ were referred to as operatives, and not detectives. Detectives, particularly in the Chicago area, were seen as abusive police officers who looked for evidence to solve a crime. Corrupt law enforcement officers weren’t opposed to bending the rules to get their man. Operatives were to behave in a more dignified manner, to be beyond reproach, and possess refined skills. An operative could be an expert in handwriting analysis, disguises, or tracking. The Pinkertons would come to specialize in not only getting their man or woman, but also noticing the criminals’ giveaway characteristics or distinguishing marks, with a novelist’s eye for description.13
Allan expected his operatives to be well-groomed and polite. He maintained detailed records of the subject or situation his staff was charged with investigating and the clients who hired them, and he expected the same meticulous note-taking from those working for the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Allan believed procedures and priorities combined would define the industry and elevate the trade to one of great respectability. He wasn’t opposed to defying convention to improve the agency. He wanted the company to have a reputation for using innovative methods to achieve its goals. That was one of the motivating factors that led to his agreeing to hire a woman.
When Kate Warne arrived back at Allan’s office the following day and learned he would give her a job, she became the nation’s first female detective. As was the standard, Allan started a file on the ambitious lady operative that included a variety of pertinent information about her life before becoming an agent.
According to the March 21, 1868, edition of the Philadelphia Press, Kate Warne was born in 1830 in the town of Erin Chemung County, New York. Her parents, Israel and Elizabeth Hulbert, struggled financially, and Kate had few opportunities for education. She married at a young age and was widowed by early 1856. She then moved to Illinois with her parents and her brother Allan. Kate realized the importance of finding employment if she were to support herself and provide some income for her family. Her first job in the city was as a house cleaner, but it was unsatisfying to her. Kate wanted to prove herself at a position that challenged her mind.14 The McArthur Enquirer from March 19, 1868, referred to her as a “marked woman among her sex, with a large, active brain, great mental power, an excellent judge of character, strong active vitality.” The Pinkerton Detective Agency was precisely the employment her “active brain” required.15
The detective agency Kate so fearlessly approached for a job was contracted by several prominent railroad lines to guard the rolling stock transported across the Midwestern frontier. The company provided police protection for the Illinois Central, Michigan Central, Michigan Southern and Northern Indiana, Galena and Chicago Union, Chicago and Rock Island, and Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroads.16 The Pinkerton Detective Agency received retainers of various amounts to secure the passengers and property aboard the train. Pinkerton agreed in writing to have on hand a “sufficient number of reliable, active, and experienced assistants, to enable the agency to respond to the call of any; or either of the said companies without delay, and in case the business of either of them shall be of an unusually urgent character, and needing either more assistants or those having different qualifications than those then in their employ, they shall procure as soon as practical as many as may be needed.” Allan classified the hiring of Kate as “procuring the assistants of those having different qualities.”17
Kate Warne joined a staff of nine operatives, including Allan Pinkerton. Men employed by the agency were Timothy Webster, a former New York City police officer; Pryce Lewis, a former book salesman; John Scully, a quick-witted British gentleman who was prone to drinking too much; John H. White, regarded by Allan as a shrewd hand; John Fox, a former watchmaker from New England; Adam Roche, a German known as the Flying Dutchman, whose only vice was tobacco; R. Rivers, a tenacious, athletic man who would jog twelve miles rather than lose sight of a suspect’s carriage; and a thirty-five-year-old gentleman named De Forest. He was tall, remarkably good-looking, with long black hair. He was known as a perfect “lady killer.” George Bangs, Allan Pinkerton’s keen and resourceful right-hand man, was also a member of the staff.18
In addition to the normal duties and responsibilities the Pinkerton Detective Agency had with the railroad lines, the company also worked with attorneys, law enforcement departments, and government representatives. Cases were subject to careful scrutiny before Allan would accept them. His operatives received a copy of a document he referred to as “general principles.” It outlined the prerequisites for accepting a case. The agency would not represent a defendant in a criminal case except with the knowledge and consent of the prosecutor; they would not shadow jurors or investigate public officials in the performance of their duties or trade-union officers or members in their lawful union activities; they would not accept employment from one political party against another; they wouldn’t report union meetings unless the meetings were open to the public without restrictions; they would not work for vice crusaders; they would not accept contingency fees, gratuities, or rewards. The agency would never investigate the morals of a woman unless in connection with another crime, nor would it handle cases of divorce or of a scandalous nature.19
Allan Pinkerton and his brother Robert helped to establish offices not only in Chicago, but in New York, Baltimore, and Wisconsin, as well. The September 6, 1856, edition of the Janesville Daily Gazette explained that securing offices in various locations not only enlarged the Pinkerton Detective Agency’s field of operation, but also provided the company with an extensive familiarity with the geography of the country. “It also gave them an intimate connection with the police of other areas, which enabled them to operate with unparalleled success in any part of the country,” the Gazette boasted.20 The article continued:
A concern like theirs is of incalculable benefit to the commercial community and to the authorities of the numerous small towns, whose means do not enable them to maintain a regular police force. A timely application to Pinkerton and Company would enable them to get rid of the thieves and swindlers of various degrees who often make the smaller towns the field of their operations.21
Pinkerton and Company work quietly but efficiently, their detectives are shrewd, well drilled, and intelligent, and capable of adapting themselves to the circumstances of those upon whom they wish to operate.22
A certain place is infested with thieves, or has been the scene of depredation. A stranger appears in the neighborhood. He may appear to be a businessman, a speculator sporting man, a rowdy, a loafer, a thief—it matters not which. In a short time after his appearance, the officers who could previously obtain no clue to the depredators, now easily find them out, and when they are secured or cleared out, the stranger disappears also. He was a detective.23
Kate Warne was assigned to a case within two days of being made an operative. Some historians argue that Kate’s early ambition to become an actress played a part in her success as a detective. She was able to play a variety of roles while investigating criminal suspects. Perhaps she expressed her love of acting to Pinkerton during her initial interview and assured him she was capable of hiding her true identity while working a case. In-depth records about that meeting were destroyed in a fire in 1871. What is known is that Pinkerton saw something in Kate he believed would make a fine investigator. Decades after his first encounter with Kate, Pinkerton wrote in his memoirs that “she succeeded far beyond my utmost expectations.”24
Kate’s involvement in the inves
tigation of an employee of the Adams Express Company, a freight and cargo transportation line that ran throughout the Southeast, was documented by Pinkerton in a case he called “The Expressman and the Detective.”25
The Adams Express Company was founded in 1854 and began personal delivery of securities, documents, and parcels between the financial centers of Boston and New York. The company expanded rapidly, first throughout the South and Southeast, and, in time, westward.26
In 1855 Allan Pinkerton received a letter from Edward S. Sanford, vice president of the Adams Express Company, explaining that $10,000 had been stolen from a locked money pouch somewhere between their Montgomery, Alabama, headquarters and a branch office in Augusta, Georgia. Sanford wanted the agency to find the thief. Pinkerton’s initial assessment of the robbery was that someone from the inside had absconded with the money. He shared his thought with Sanford in a letter of reply, and had not heard again from the businessman for more than a year. In the summer of 1856, Pinkerton received an urgent message from Sanford requesting that the famous detective please hurry to meet him in Alabama. Pinkerton did as he asked.27
A frantic Sanford met Pinkerton and George Bangs at the train depot in Montgomery and told them another $40,000 had been stolen. Sanford informed the pair that he’d had someone closely watching the activities at the Adams Express Company office there, and didn’t believe it was an “inside job.” Nathan Maroney, manager of the Montgomery office, had placed the money in a sealed pouch before sending it to the New York office. By the time the pouch had reached its destination, the money was gone. The October 6, 1883, edition of the Oshkosh Daily Northwestern reported that “a square hole, a clean cut made by a razor, was in the side of the bag, concealed from the public view by the outer pocket of the pouch.”
