Chapter Four—Protection and Money Making

     Robin kept her grand opening sale going for two weeks. By that time the new had worn off the store and things began to settle into a routine. She still planned on having “sales” of various items from time to time and put a weekly or bi-weekly ad in the paper to advertise. Her second week sales had been just over $300, and she could certainly live with that, but didn’t expect it every week. Just half that much would be great….
     On the 15th of October, four men came into the shop about mid-morning and momentarily drew everyone’s attention. They looked a little strange; they were dressed in suits, three in black, one in brown, and they didn’t especially look like businessmen or salesmen or any other kind of store-related personage. All four of them were fairly big and, quite frankly, a little fierce. But the fellow who spoke—the man in the brown suit—smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
     “Miss Morrow? My name is John Jones, and these are associate of mine,” referring to the three men with him. “We were wondering if we might have a few minutes of your time in private. We have a…business proposition we’d like to discuss with you.”
     The store wasn’t excessively busy at the moment, so Robin said, “Well, I guess so. Let’s go back into my office. Marge, watch the counter for a few minutes, will you?”
     Robin led the four men back to her office. There were only two other chairs in the room, besides the one behind her desk, and she said, “I’m sorry I can’t offer all of you seats. Would you like to have some coffee?”
     “No, thank you. Our business shouldn’t take long. We’re here to provide you some…insurance that you need.”
     “Oh,” Robin said. “Well, thanks but I already have insurance.  The bank covers that.”
     Jones had sat down in the chair in front of her desk. The other three men were all standing around in a wide semicircle behind him. Jones leaned his arms against her desk. “No, Miss Morrow, you don’t understand. This is a special kind of insurance that provides you protection from some competitor coming in and undercutting you and running you out of business. You do want to stay in business, don’t you?”
     “Well, of course…” Robin didn’t understand exactly what he meant.
     “Well, we’ll help you do that. You pay us a certain fee, and we’ll protect you from competition. You’ll have a solid control of the market here.”
     It hit Robin now what this was all about. She had heard about it in New York…a protection racket. A bunch of strong-armed thugs—and her current visitors fit that description perfectly—terrorized local businesses into paying them a “fee” against non-existent “competition,” and if the fee wasn’t paid, there were serious repercussions. Robin was somewhat amazed that it existed here in the west in a small town like Whitewater.
     “I see. And how much is your ‘fee’?”
     “For you, $150 per month.”
     Robin was appalled. That was outrageous. “And if I choose not to participate in this ‘insurance’….?” She knew the answer.
     “It’s like paying taxes, Miss Morrow. It’s not optional.”
     “And if I refuse to pay it…?” She knew the answer to that, too.
     Jones sat back. His eyes were ice gray. “You know, Miss Morrow, the west can be a very dangerous place. Indian attacks, wild animals, various forms of tragedies that can strike your loved ones…”
     Robin’s eyes blazed. “If you touch my aunt, I’ll…I’ll…”
     Jones smiled and spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Well, of course, we can’t guarantee anybody’s long life, but we also can protect your loved ones against certain forms of tragedy. Or yourself. Or your store. That’s part of what the fee is for.”
     Robin closed her eyes, and was boiling. “This is extortion, Mr. Jones, pure and simple. And I’m going directly to the sheriff with it.”
     “No, it’s not extortion, Miss Morrow. It’s…insurance. Protection. We are providing you a service. If someone came in and opened the same kind of shop as you, that would definitely cut into your profits, no doubt much deeper than the fee we are asking. We will prevent that. And,” he paused and gave Robin an arrogant smile, “your sheriff is well aware of these services that we provide the community.”
     In other words, they’ve bought the sheriff. And that was nonsense about protecting her from someone opening a similar store. They hadn’t “protected” the other merchants from her opening a store and somebody, somewhere in town sold everything she did, just not all in one location. “Get out of my office, all of you,” Robin said. “And don’t come back.”
     Jones stood up. “Oh, we’ll be back, Miss Morrow. We expect payment on the final work day of every month. So we’ll be here on October 31 to collect the $150 you owe us.”
     “I don’t owe you anything!” Robin almost shouted, standing up, her face fierce.
     “Just think about it, Miss Morrow. You’ve got a nice business here, some wonderful friends, a loving aunt. Wouldn’t you hate to see anything happen to them?”
     “Get out!”
      Jones smiled. “See you in a couple of weeks,” and he and the other three men left, the last one, upon closing the door, giving her a haughty smile.
     Robin was trembling with rage. She closed her eyes and dropped back into her seat. She took her head in her hands. What am I going to do?….
     She sighed. Well, one thing she wasn’t going to do was tell Aunt Martha. Or Marge and Rhonda. She thought for a few minutes. I think I’ll go talk to Len Kramer, see if he has any suggestions. I wonder how many other businesses in town are paying for this racket. Maybe if we all banded together, we could stop this. So she picked up her purse and walked out.
     “Marge, I’ve got to leave for a little while. You and Rhonda hold down the fort, ok?”
     “Will do.”
     Robin rode up to Kilmer’s Mining—Lumber—office. “Hi, Robin,” Shirley, the secretary said. “How are you?”
     “I’ve been doing better. Is Len in his office, by any chance?”
     “Yes, he is. Go on back, he’ll be happy to see you.”
     And he was. “Robin!” he said, with a smile as she knocked on his open door. He stood up when she came in and went around the desk to greet her. He gave her a peck on the cheek. “How are you doing? We miss you around here. How’s the new business going? Would you like a cup of coffee?”
     She couldn’t help but chuckle at all the questions he threw at her. “No, no coffee, thanks. I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes if you have the time. Something’s come up.”
     “Oh,” he said, with concern. “Well, please sit down and tell me what it is. I’ll help if I can.” He sat down at his desk.
     “I hope you can,” she replied, and proceeded to tell him about her recent visitors and their demand.
     Len winced and shook his head. He sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he told her. “But it’s a situation we’re all dealing with.”
     “Really?”
     “Yeah. How much are they asking from you?”
     “$150 a month.”
     He grimaced. “Wow. That’s a lot for a small business. It almost sounds like whoever is behind it is trying to shut you down. I don’t know what your operating expenses are but I’d bet that will take a hunk out of your profits.”
     “Len, I don’t see how I’ll be able to afford it. I mean, we’ve had a good couple of weeks with the grand opening and all, but I can’t expect that every month. I was figuring I would be doing super if I had $100 profit margin each month. Do you know of anybody else in town they are extorting this way? And who’s behind it, this man Jones?”
     “I don’t know everybody who is being extorted, but I’ve heard of a few. We are, to the tune of $200 a month. I don’t like it, but we can afford it. About a year ago, I told them I wasn’t going to pay it and a couple of nights later there was a huge cave-in at one of our mines. Fortunately, no one was inside but we got the message. Have you seen Johnny Williams around town, the owner of the ironworks? He’s hobbling around on a broken leg. Said he fell off a horse, but everybody knows better.”
     Robin didn’t know Johnny personally but she had seen him on crutches.
     Len continued. “That fire at Philpot Milling a few months ago—I don’t guess you were here yet, that was in the spring. They play rough. I actually hired some men to try to stop these guys, but they couldn’t do it, Jones demanded an extra $500 and said it would be $1,000 the next time and no telling what might happen around the mines.” Len shook his head. “I just pay them the $200 a month and chalk it up as an operating expense.”
     “Len, that’s awful. Isn’t anybody trying to do anything?”
     “I don’t know, but I doubt it, given the messages that have been sent to Johnny, Philpot, and us. Somebody has quite an operation going.”
     “Is Jones the leader?”
     Len shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think he and his three trained gorillas are just the front men. Somebody is behind it, but I don’t know who.”
     “Have you talked to any of the other businessmen in town? Band together, not pay? Put up some kind of united front?”
     “I’ve talked to a couple, like Aubrey Mason, but everybody is scared to death. They think if it gets around that they are plotting something, that their stores might be ransacked or a loved one hurt. Johnny Williams doesn’t have any family here so they just broke his leg. I don’t, either, so they took out one of my mines.” He looked at her gravely. “They probably threatened your aunt, didn’t they.”
     Robin nodded. “In a round about way, yes.”
     “I’m afraid they’ll do it, too, Robin, I really am. These men have shown that they have no scruples. I think we were really lucky that nobody was in that mine when they blew it up. Whoever is behind Jones wouldn’t have cared, apparently, if somebody had been killed.”
     “Len, with my other expenses, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford it. I’ve got a little cushion because we’ve done real well with the grand opening, but I need that for an emergency fund.” Then she sighed. “I guess this could be called an emergency, but every month…that’s almost $2,000 a year. That’s exorbitant.”
     “Yes, it is, for a small business like yours. Aubrey and Johnny told me they were only get knocked up for $50 a month and that stretched both of them. We’re a pretty big business, so we can afford $200 a month, but we sure don’t like it.” He looked thoughtful. “But $150 for a small shop, that is outrageous. Again, it seems like somebody might be trying to run you out of business.”
     Robin was almost in tears. “I think I could do it, Len, I mean have a successful business if it wasn’t for this. I just don’t see how I can sell that much each month.”
     “Well, maybe you’ll do better than you think. I just don’t know what to tell you. I’ve paid it every month and don’t think about it much any more, but I’ll give it some more thought, and you do the same, and maybe we can come up with something. But until we do, I’m sorry, but I would strongly suggest you pay Jones, even if it means dipping into your savings. He means business and the first time you miss a payment, he’ll make you suffer. And he wouldn’t hesitate to go after your aunt.”
     “I’ll kill him if he hurts her,” Robin said, softly. “I don’t care if I hang, I’ll kill him.”
     “You’re just going to have to pay him, Robin, until we can think of something else. Let me talk to Johnny and Aubrey again. I’m sure there are some others in town, but I don’t know who. I guess they told you they’ve bought Sheriff Bernstein.”
     “Yeah. What about the mayor?”
     Len looked skeptical. “I’d be very surprised if they didn’t have him in their pocket, too. He’s not much.”
     “No. No, he’s not. Well, thanks for you help,” Robin said, disconsolate. “I’ll figure something out, I guess.”
     “I’m sorry, Robin. I was hoping they wouldn’t do that to you.”
     Robin was doleful, but angry, for the rest of the day. $150. I’m not about to pay those thugs $150 of my money. But what else can I do? I’ll have to think of something…
     But by October 31, she hadn’t, so when Jones came by, she gritted her teeth and coughed up the money.

     “For Ladies Only” ended up making a little over $2,000 that first month. So that obviously was a good profit margin, but it wouldn’t be that way every month. Robin was able to put $1,100 of it in her “cushion fund” as she called it, and with the $500 she already had in there, she had $1,600. That was a goodly amount, but it wouldn’t last long if she had to pull $150 a month out of it, or some other unforeseen expense came up. Robin figured she might have about six months, and then she’d be operating in the red, unless her sales were a lot better than she expected. But in the last week of October, and first week of November when things had settled down to some sort of normalcy after the grand opening, she pulled in a total of just under $250, or about $125 per week, which would be around $500 a month. She could live on that fairly nicely—if she didn’t have to shell out the $150 extortion fund. That would put her under; she had to have something to live on, though she could get by fairly cheaply while still living with Aunt Martha. But she did share expenses with her aunt, so that would put her deeper in a hole. If I average $500 a month, but pay out $550…and have to have about $50 a month to live on…I’ll just have to try to cut expenses somewhere…maybe not advertise but every other week…trim the miscellaneous fund and hope no emergencies come up—she wanted to put $50 in her “cushion fund,” a savings account, each month, but that wasn’t likely now. Maybe I can cut back on how much I order…The whole thing just made her blood boil.
     And when Aunt Martha asked her on October 31 how everything was going, she almost broke down in tears again. If they hurt her, I’ll kill them…just like Rob did with his wife, I’ll kill them…Robin had never thought she’d feel that way; killing another human being was a horrible thought to her. She’d never done it, never even come close, never even thought about it. But now…I know how Rob felt…well, his was probably worse, but I understand why he did it…but I’ll do it…and I’ll become an outlaw, too…she smiled at that thought…but if they hurt Aunt Martha…
     Her thoughts had turned to Rob, something that hadn’t happened much in October, with her incredibly busy work schedule during the month. But this extortion thing and the threat to Aunt Martha brought Rob back to the forefront of her thinking…and oh, how I wish he were here. He could do something, I know he could…but he’s not here, and he never will be again…what am I going to do? Where am I going to get that extra money? More sales is the only way…how can I generate more sales?….She’d have to give that some thought…
     She sighed. I hope I don’t have to close the store…How can I? I owe the bank…. This was getting awfully uncomfortable…

     November wasn’t as good a month as October, but Robin wasn’t expecting it would be. The store grossed $517, which was under the $550 she needed now, and she had a pretty big order near the middle of the month to prepare for the Christmas season, so she spent over $600. But that’s ok, I should get all of that back. Jones and his three shadows were there at the end of the month, demanding their $150.
     “Very good, Miss Morrow. You keep paying your obligations and we’ll get along fine.”
     “I’m going to find some way to beat you, Jones. This is stealing, and you know it.”
     “Aw, now, Miss Morrow, don’t think of it that way. Again, we’re protecting you.”
     “I don’t need your protection. What I need is protection from you.”
     He just laughed and said, “See you next month.”
     It just burned Robin raw to have to pay that. But I’m sure everybody else feels the same way.
     That wasn't especially a comforting thought.