A Burglar's Calling Card: Saloon Robbed, With a Polite Note Left on the Bar
Thieves pry open the iron shutters of John J. Madigan's Bodega saloon on Front Street, empty his secret cash stash and leave behind three empty glasses and an apology — of sorts.
Some time between the hours of 1 and 6 o'clock yesterday morning John J. Madigan's Bodega saloon at 917 Front street was entered and $60 stolen from a secret hiding place supposed to be known only to the proprietor and his bartenders. Mr. Madigan is satisfied the work was done by some one who has been in the habit of hanging around the saloon and thus discovered where the money was kept.
The saloon was closed about 1 o'clock yesterday morning by Mr. Madigan and Bartender Lake. A short time before closing, Mr. Lake thought he heard some one in the back room of the saloon and looked around, but failed to discover anything that justified his suspicions.
When Bartender Shelton came on watch in the morning and went to the secret hiding place for money, he found that it had been taken. On the bar were three empty glasses and a note which read as follows: "Don't blame the bartenders for this. You are in luck that we didn't crack your safe."
Mr. Madigan was immediately notified and on arriving at the saloon he called in the police. An investigation of the premises showed that the entrance had been effected through a back window. The window is protected by iron shutters, which had been pried open.
In speaking of the burglary last evening Mr. Madigan said he had had a presentiment for several days that the place would be robbed, and now he didn't know but what there was something in presentiments after all. "I will say," he continued, "that I am satisfied that the men who did the job could not crack my safe if they had a week in which to work."
“Don't blame the bartenders for this. You are in luck that we didn't crack your safe.”
Front Street is today's First Avenue, and 917 sits in the heart of Pioneer Square — a district still defined by its saloons-turned-bars and its running battle with theft and street crime. The courteous burglar who spares the bartenders and mocks the safe is a very Seattle kind of outlaw: polite, precise, and quietly contemptuous of security.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.