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leaders die , chaos reigns , Ransom thought; that much, even a casual reading of Shakespeare or the Bible warned.
    Ransom had caught one of the police wagons going fromthe mayor’s Ashland Avenue home to the fairgrounds at the lake. Leaving the night’s greatest tragedy in more capable hands, he now found himself pushing past people bent on rebellion and mayhem in the wake of the assassination. He also found a small army of brown-uniformed police in formation—the Columbian Guard—slowly, cautiously, but forcibly guiding the revelers from the area.
    The semimilitary unit of coppers moved in mass, every face a stern admonition even if silent; in fact, their silence was the more frightful and perhaps their strongest weapon, along with upraised night sticks. Orders had been given by Chief Agustus Pyles, head of the guard, to clear the fair and close it down for good and all this night, despite what the mob wanted.
    Already the fair had been held open two days over the original closing date to accommodate a visit from former President Benjamin Harrison, who, as visiting dignitary, had been whisked from the city by rail the moment word of the mayor’s assassination had reached William Pinkerton of the famous and infamous Pinkerton Detective Agency. President Harrison was guided by Pinkerton out of the Chicago area to an undisclosed location. Word filtering through the blue grapevine said that Pinkerton had indeed handled the matter personally.
    Ransom knew Bill Pinkerton, the eldest son of the famous Alan Pinkerton, President Lincoln’s bodyguard on the now legendary, dangerous trip to the White House days after Lincoln’s election. Out of the services provided Lincoln throughout the Civil War, the Pinkerton Agency had become the model for the U.S. Secret Service. Ransom believed the Pinkerton Agency set the standard for criminal detection. Many a police program had been designed in the same fashion.
    After Alan Pinkerton died in the summer of 1884, Bill had taken over operation of the Chicago branch of the agency, while brother Robert did the same from the New York home office. The brothers now co-partnered the business they’d been raised on. Ransom had recently read that the brotherscaptured bank robber Giant Jack Phillips—whose modus operandi was to carry out a bank safe on his back! He recalled hearing that the Pinkertons had opened new branches in Seattle, Denver, Kansas City, and Boston.
    For once, Ransom found himself in complete agreement with the Columbian Guard chief and, most likely, Nathan Kohler, who, if rumor proved true, had conferred with Agustus Pyles. It always felt strange to Ransom to come down on the same side of an issue as the brass. But this made sense— shut down the fair immediately . Set and enforce curfew, an effective method used by Pinkerton agents during labor disputes and strikes.
    Chief of Police Kohler had in fact ordered a citywide curfew, and when a copper, whether a guard or a flatfoot, did let out a cry, it was a simple declarative sentence: “Curfew is past! Curfew is past , you men!”
    â€œOff with you now, lads!” another added.
    â€œThe fair’s come to an end.”
    â€œA bad end!” shouted a crone among the men in the crowd. “I warned it would, and it did!”
    â€œGo home! Fair’s come to an end,” went the mantra.
    â€œThe fair, yes, but not the drinking!” shouted one reveler. “You can’t stop us drinking!”
    â€œWe got a right to celebrate the death of that bastard mayor!” came another as he toasted Harrison’s death.
    â€œHe were never no friend to the working man!” came another, lifting his bottle to his lips.
    Next a bottle was thrown, hitting one officer across the bridge of his nose, cutting him badly. Then a half-crushed brick flew at the police, leaving a gash in another officer’s cheek.
    â€œThat’s enough!” shouted Ransom. “Curfew is