Kate Warne: America’s First Female Detective

Authors Note: So you know, this is a rewrite of a story I told years ago. I’ve grown as a writer, and I want to take another shot at making this one better. For the purposes of telling a story, I’ve added conversation to it. The conversation that while based on reports, may or may not have happened exactly as noted.

The events and people are true and existed.

Flashback!

Chicago, 1856.

It’s not the Chicago we know and love today.

Often times, the streets were muddy. There were horses, some carrying just a rider, others pulling buggies or wagons moved up and down the narrow streets. Often, they barely missed each other or people crossing. Being horses, they also left evidence of their passing in steaming, smelly piles. You had to be careful not to step in it.

A young woman walked across one of those streets towards the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Like so many around her, she walked carefully. She was only 23 years old and had already lived a tough life. But that made her move with a confidence and grace that made her seem older and sure of herself.

But feeling sure of herself was probably the last thing she really felt. She was about to try something no woman had tried before.

Kate Warne’s husband had passed away. He’d left her very little money. Being a woman in a man’s world ensured her prospects weren’t exactly he best. And she was about to walk into the premier detective agency of the time and say they should hire her.

When Alan Pinkerton learned there was a young woman in his office looking for work, he called her in. Pinkerton studied the girl across from him. He’d later say Kate Warne had a face and eyes that just invited people to confide in her. When she made her pitch, he’d realize that was an asset.

But right then and there, he didn’t have a place for her.

“Mrs. Warne, we’re not hiring secretaries right now. We’ve a full staff.”

“Mr. Pinkerton,” she said. “I’m not here to be a secretary.” She handed him a copy of the newspaper where he’d placed an advertisement. “I’m here to be a detective.”

Kate was about to run into a serious glass ceiling. Every law enforcement anything, in America at that time, was a man. Pinkerton knew that. So, he was caught a little unprepared by this young woman.

“Mrs. Warne,” he probably said. “It’s rough out there. Most men can’t handle the job, and you’re -“

“A woman, Mr. Pinkerton?”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

“I see.” She smiled and paused. “But can your men get close to a criminal’s wife or sweetheart?” She gave him a knowing smile. “I can.”

It was the 1850s. Women stayed home and raised babies. To get out of that and into a man’s world, she needed a hammer to get through the male-only ceiling. Kate Warne had just picked up Thor’s hammer to assault it with.

But, Alan Pinkerton knew she was right. Wives and sweethearts of a criminal are often privy to what they’re doing or have done. And while they wouldn’t talk to a man, they just might talk to a woman.

“Mrs. Warne, I think you’re right. Can I have a day to think about it?”

I’m sure she smiled that charming smile Pinkerton would later comment on. “Of course, Mr. Pinkerton.”

Early the next morning, a detective went to her residence and told her Mr. Pinkerton wanted to see her.

That quickly, Kate Warne became the first female lawman in America.

One her first assignments made use of the very argument she’d used to sway Pinkerton.

In the 1850s, there was no FBI. No Secret Service. No one had jurisdiction throughout the country, and companies often hired the Pinkerton’s when a crime had been committed.

Kate was about to explode on the national scene with one of her first, high profile case.

***

Enter the Adams Express Company. The Express Company was like our Fed-EX. But they dealt in cash, so add Brinks Armored Car and you get a good idea of what they did. The company was founded in 1854 and delivered documents, securities, and parcels between New York and Boston. It grew rapidly and by 1855, had offices up and down the coast and was expanding westward.

Sometime in 1855, Alan Pinkerton was at his desk opening his mail. Among it was a letter from Edward Sanford, a VP for the company. Sanford wasn’t happy. He wrote: Dear Mr. Pinkerton. I’m writing you because we’d like to hire your company to look into a matter for us. A few weeks ago, ten thousand dollars disappeared from a locked courier bag. The bag was with a trusted individual. He was taking it from our Montgomery, Alabama headquarters, to a branch office in Augusta, Georgia.

Pinkerton replied back that they’d be happy to look into it. He also added it was most likely an inside job.

Sanford didn’t answer right away.

A year later, and again in his morning mail, there was a frantic letter from Sanford. It had happened again, Sanford wrote, and would Pinkerton meet him in Alabama.

Pinkerton went and met with Sanford.

“Mr. Pinkerton, we’ve a big problem. Forty-Thousand dollars has disappeared.”

“Same as before?”

“Yes. The courier bag was locked.”

“The bag? Any damage to it?”

“None.”

“How about the courier? How reliable is he.”

“Absolutely reliable. Completely trustworthy.”

I’m sure Alan Pinkerton would have agreed with the saying we had in MPI. “In God we trust. Everyone else gets investigated.”

Pinkerton nodded, not believing it for a second. “I still think you’re looking at an inside job.”

Sanford disagreed. “After the last incident we started watching closely around the office. Nathan Maroney, he’s our office manager, was seen placing the money in the bag. When it got to New York, the money was gone.”

“Let me see” Pinkerton said. “So far, you’ve lost fifty thousand dollars.”

That’s a lot of money, even by today’s standards. Today that would translate into a little over a million and half dollars. Small wonder Sanford was wigging out.

“Have you checked your people out?” Pinkerton asked.

“We looked at the messengers. We investigated them thoroughly. They’re good, reliable men.”

“How about Maroney?”

“Can’t be. He’s a good man. I can’t imagine him doing this.”

Alan Pinkerton agreed to take the case.

And he knew where to start looking.