James Wasserman rose and nodded. Rosy cheeked and blond, he would have benefited from a stool to stand on, also a megaphone.

“This will be brief,” he announced in a piping voice. “I know you’re eager to get to work. Mr. Baumgarten asked me to thank you for everything you’ve done to maintain Riverview’s safety during this trying time.”

He glanced around as though expecting applause, instead met several dozen baleful gazes. The press agent’s face grew pinker. He cleared his throat and continued.

“Mr. Baumgarten has offered a one-thousand-dollar reward for the capture of this madman. I’ll share this news when I meet with reporters at ten, so I’d appreciate it if you kept it under wraps until then. In addition, Mr. Baumgarten has arranged for a special entry today, with all families with children to be admitted free.”

Francis stared at him in disbelief, as other sergeants began yelling angrily. Hickey raised both hands to command silence.

“Hear him out!” he shouted, but his expression mirrored those of the men around him. Wasserman’s head bobbed up and down like a tin duck’s in the shooting range.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice cracking. “You all know how Mr. Baumgarten arranges free days throughout the season—Newsboy Day, the Milk Drive. He wants everyone to know that Riverview is open for business, and that our business is people enjoying themselves, especially children. He will personally make up the difference in whatever revenue is lost, and add that to the amount of the reward.”

“That’s crazy!” a man shouted above the angry chatter. “You’re encouraging parents to bring their kids here while there’s a murderer loose?”

“People need no encouragement—do you know how many visitors we had yesterday? Nearly seventy thousand. It’s probably safer here today than it’s ever been.” Wasserman’s quavering voice steadied, as though emboldened by his own words. “Forty Chicago sergeants will be on patrol, most of them in plain clothes, and that isn’t counting all of you. Commissioner Deneen is arranging to meet with several Pinkerton agents, and if needed they will be called into the park as well.”

“How come they’re not here now?” someone demanded.

“It takes time to get here. And it takes money, too,” Wasserman said. “Our resources are not unlimited.”

“This isn’t the Milk Drive,” broke in O’Connell. Every summer, Riverview donated admissions from a single Saturday to buy milk for the city’s poor children. “It’s a stunt, pure and simple.”