The Devil in the White City

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

THIS IS MY THIRD BOOK with Crown Publishers and with my editor, Betty Prashker, who once again proved herself to be one of New York’s supreme editors—confident, obliquely forceful, always reassuring. Every writer needs support, and she gave it unstintingly. Every book also needs support, and once again Crown marshaled a team of committed men and women to help the book find its way to as many readers as possible. Thanks, here, to Steve Ross, publisher; Andrew Martin, Joan DeMayo, and Tina Constable, marketing wizards; and Penny Simon, the kind of veteran publicist most writers wish they had but seldom get.

I have been blessed as well with one hell of an agent, David Black, a man whose instinct for narrative drive—and excellent wine—is unparalleled. He also happens to be an excellent human being.

On the homefront my family kept me sane. I could not have written this book without the help of my wife, Christine Gleason, a doctor by profession but also one of the best natural editors I’ve encountered. Her confidence was a beacon. My three daughters showed me what really matters. My dog showed me that nothing matters but dinner.

Two friends, both writers, generously agreed to read the entire manuscript and offered their wise critiques. Robin Marantz Henig sent me a dozen pages of pinpoint suggestions, most of which I adopted. Carrie Dolan, one of the best and funniest writers I know, offered her criticisms in a way that made them seem like compliments. Hers is a knack that few editors possess.

Thanks also to Dr. James Raney, Seattle psychiatrist and forensic consultant, who read the manuscript and offered his diagnosis of the psychic malaise that likely drove Holmes’s behavior. Gunny Harboe, the Chicago architect who led the restoration of two of Burnham & Root’s remaining buildings—the Reliance and the Rookery—gave me a tour of both and showed me Burnham’s library, restored to its original warmth.

Finally, a word about Chicago: I knew little about the city until I began work on this book. Place has always been important to me, and one thing today’s Chicago exudes, as it did in 1893, is a sense of place. I fell in love with the city, the people I encountered, and above all the lake and its moods, which shift so readily from season to season, day to day, even hour to hour.

I must confess a shameful secret: I love Chicago best in the cold.