Chapter 1

Harriman's General Store was just off the main thoroughfare, on a side street really, in the middle of what had once been a very affluent neighborhood. Over the past so many years, as these things happen, the average age of the residents increased rapidly as their children finished school and moved away from home. With nothing to keep them in the neighborhood, and traffic congestion as bad as it was in the city, most young people chose to leave Mom and Dad's home for a place closer to their work and/or recreation. Of course, as the remaining residents aged, some died, some moved in with their children and some moved to the warmer climates to get away from the brutality of northern winters. The ethnicity of the neighborhood changed as well, not from the panicky change that took place in the late fifties and early sixties, but simply because the sellers wanted to sell their properties and members of other ethnic groups wanted to buy them. So, what once had been a solidly Jewish neighborhood from 68th street down to 53rd, and an equally solid Italian community from 52nd clear past the high school was now an eclectic mix of Latino, Asian, and Eastern European families, all struggling with mortgage payments and all striving to achieve the American dream.

Bernie Harriman had long since passed away, and the store continued to operate in his name under the misguided and haphazard management of whomever had been able to convince Sarah Harriman, his widow, that they were competent merchants. There had been several individuals over the years since Bernie's passing, and eventually one of the very shirttail relatives of Bernie Harriman, a second or third cousin of his brother or some such thing, made his case to Sarah Harriman that he should be allowed to take over the store operation, and provide her with a living income for her remaining years. Upon her passing, she would deed the property and business to him. He presented a business plan to her that was very impressive to an elderly matron with bad eyesight, and, because he was family, she agreed to his plan and signed the necessary papers that very day.

The store itself changed as much as the neighborhood. It had begun as a general store, quite similar to those seen in the Western movies on television (without the cowboys of course) before the great depression by Bernie Harriman's parents. Back then it sold a little bit of everything except food. Men's and women's clothing, small tools for the handyman, small kitchen appliances and cookware, patent medicines, and a smattering of groceries for convenience. Over a period of years, the emphasis would change from some categories and the breadth of stock and product offerings would be revised to accommodate the limited space in the store. Some of the various managers throughout the years had introduced their pet products to the neighborhood, and most of these sold quickly while the item was new or a novelty, and all of them still had some of their "specials" left behind, not being standard stocking items. There was a smattering of house paint, a selection of dated toys, a large assortment of cake decorating items and rack after rack of t shirts that were emblazoned with reference to about fifteen shows of yesteryear television. One of those managers had actually believed that "high end" jewelry, with its attendant high end markup, could be sold and easily improve the net profit. That none of the store employees at that time knew anything at all about how to market "high end" jewelry was missed by that manager completely, the product line failed miserably, and the stock sat on the shelves as time marched by and made its styling almost obsolete.

Finally after more than fifteen years of revolving door managers, along came Jerome Fischer, third cousin to somebody and newly anointed manager (and future owner) of Harriman's General Store. Mr. Fischer, thirty eight years of age, a product of a neighborhood on the opposite end of town, had worked in a number of similar retail shops, the majority of which he had left involuntarily with the true reason for termination not disclosed. But he was good enough at spinning a yarn that he was always able to convince the next guy about his skills and, knowing the "buzzword" of the decade, always found himself employed anew quite quickly. Had any of his previous employers ever met and discussed his work ethic, they would have all agreed that Mr. Jerry Fischer belonged deep inside a jail, not out in front of hapless customers. Instead they kept quiet and prayed that his victims would be too embarrassed about their gullibility to file suit against their store. Many people would have preferred that Mr. Jerome Fischer be served up to the nearest junk yard dog as dinner for a three day weekend. In short, many, many people thought Mr. Jerome Fischer was a snake!

Jerome Fischer took over the operation of Harriman's General Store on September first. He retained the four employees that were working that day, three women and a young man that worked part time after school to clean up the place. Everything went fairly well until the week following Thanksgiving Day. One day, Mr. Fischer discovered that his store had one very serious chink in its security. On that particular day, Mr. Fischer apprehended two individuals for attempting to steal merchandise from the store. He was furious. He had experienced the effects of shoplifters at his previous places of employ, but this time was the first time that those people were stealing from him personally. In each incident, he called the police and filed a formal complaint against the individual, even though the police strongly suggested that he ignore the problem. He refused, insisting that he wanted the shoplifters punished to the fullest extent, to make examples out of them. He wanted everyone one in the neighborhood to know that Harriman's was NOT the place to go shoplifting. The following week, he caught two other men shoplifting and he opted to press charges on them as well. In each case, be the offender male or female, Mr. Fischer would first take the individual to his private office, close the door and then allow the "perp" to view his or her actions on video tape. This had an immediate calming effect, making the spouting of denials and claims of innocence unnecessary while awaiting the police.

One day, Mr. Fischer happened to be monitoring the video when he observed a younger Asian woman putting merchandise into her purse and then under her coat as well. As he had done four times previously, he slowly approached the customer, announced his presence as "Store Security" and took the young woman firmly by her left elbow and escorted her to his office. He found that if he applied a modest amount of clamping pressure to the elbow of these women thieves, it would be just painful enough that they would not scream out but rather they would concentrate on enduring the pain.

As they entered his office, he closed the door behind himself and locked it quietly. He immediately took the young woman to the video, typed a few commands into the keyboard and showed her the images he had recorded of her stealing merchandise from his store. When he instructed her to empty her pockets, he did not expect to find merchandise from other stores as well as his being placed on the desk. Finally he told her to remove her coat so that he could check the pockets and linings as well. None of the merchandise that she had taken from his store was urgently needed for life support, as might be expected from a woman stealing baby formula or the like. Most of this woman's thefts were cosmetic in nature, multiple lipstick tubes, mascara, eyeliner, etc. There were so many items that Mr. Fischer concluded that a more thorough search was necessary.

Behind his office, in a private area, the previous owners had constructed a sleeping room to provide themselves quarters when the weather was so severe that it warranted staying at work. When he had discovered its existence, Jerome Fischer had immediately updated the room, bringing in a new bed, painting the walls, and soundproofing the entire area.