In October 1907, a well-dressed woman sat in the Baltimore Inn, one of Chicago’s fashionable cafes, in the company of a prominent businessman. Near her, placed openly on the table, lay a large alligator-skin pocketbook. Lieutenant James V. Ling noticed it at once.

He had been investigating a robbery at the Beck household on South Park Avenue, where thieves had taken a pocketbook of that exact description, along with jewels worth more than a thousand dollars. When the woman left the cafe, Ling followed. What he uncovered over the following days would unravel one of the most sensational criminal cases of the era, exposing a double life that reached from the heights of Milwaukee society to a string of thefts in Chicago’s wealthiest homes. Evelyn Kane was born in the late 1880s in Oshkosh, Wisconsin.

Her father owned a small rubber plant, and the family lived in decent comfort. She was well educated and became a schoolteacher in a small town in the northern woods of the state. By all appearances, she was headed for a respectable, unremarkable life. That life changed when she met Charles Romadka.

He was a wealthy young businessman who owned a trunk manufacturing company, and he was in the area on a hunting trip. Evelyn, then just sixteen, was beautiful and ambitious. A flirtation began, and despite strong objections from Charles’s family, who disapproved of the match largely on religious grounds, the couple married. They soon had a daughter, and their future seemed secure.

But after the birth of her child, Evelyn fell dangerously ill. Her condition worsened despite the efforts of doctors, and an operation became necessary. The surgery saved her life, but those closest to her noticed a change. The warm, loving woman they had known became withdrawn and restless.

Friends attributed it to the stress of her illness, but something deeper seemed to have shifted. Some speculated the procedure had left a lasting mark on her mind. Evelyn herself would later suggest that something inside her had awakened. In 1907, with her daughter around five years old, Evelyn disappeared.

She was seen briefly in Milwaukee, then resurfaced in Chicago. She checked into the Victoria Hotel under an assumed name. In the months before leaving her family, she had been reading stories about criminals and had grown obsessed with the idea of meeting real crooks. At the Victoria, she met a hotel cleaner named William Jones, though he sometimes went by Albert.

When she asked him for the time, he produced a fine pocket watch clearly meant for a lady. He gave her a knowing look. Evelyn later described the moment: a strange thrill crept over her, and she found herself face to face with her dreams. In Chicago, Evelyn moved through high society.

She frequented elegant cafes and was seen with men who would later be described as her type. Beneath the surface, she built a second life. Posing as a maid, she obtained positions in the homes of wealthy families. She studied the layouts of these households, learned where the family jewels were kept, and noted the routines of the residents.

She stayed just long enough to earn trust. When the owners were away, she ransacked the rooms, taking anything valuable, especially jewelry. She then handed the stolen goods to Jones, who sold them on the black market. She showered him with expensive gifts bought with the proceeds of her thefts.

The crime spree continued for some time before detectives caught on. On Labor Day 1907, Mr. and Mrs. Beck left their home on South Park Avenue without locking the front door.

Evelyn saw them leave, entered the house, and searched every room. In a bedroom she found a large alligator-skin pocketbook containing more than a thousand dollars’ worth of jewels. The Becks discovered the robbery on their return and notified police. Lieutenant Ling took the case and received a full description of the stolen property.

Not long afterward, while eating at the Baltimore Inn, Ling saw the pocketbook on the table beside the well-dressed woman. He followed her and began learning her identity. She was Evelyn Romadka, a prominent member of Milwaukee society, reputed to be very wealthy. He also discovered something alarming: she was known to be prone to strange whims, including a habit of posing as a maid in wealthy homes, staying only a few days, then vanishing.

It strengthened his suspicion that she had committed a number of mysterious robberies in Chicago. On October 16, 1907, Evelyn was arrested and taken to police headquarters for questioning. Her husband Charles was notified and rushed to Chicago, stunned by the accusation of burglary. At first Evelyn claimed the pocketbook and jewels had been given to her by her husband.

She then confessed to the Beck robbery and many other thefts. Charles was devastated. The most shocking detail came when Evelyn admitted the stolen jewels were not for herself but for her lover, William Jones. She showed no remorse and reportedly said she preferred her lover to her husband.

Scandal followed. Charles filed for divorce and was granted sole custody of their daughter. The Romadka family, once a symbol of prosperity, fell apart. The trunk manufacturing company, a thriving enterprise before the scandal, began to fail.

Charles’s brothers, eager to distance themselves, forced him out. By 1912, the company filed for bankruptcy. Charles remarried but spent the rest of his life in relative obscurity, working menial jobs to get by. While Evelyn remained in custody, Jones was still free.

She told police she could not recall her lover’s name and refused to help the investigation. Lieutenant Ling searched her apartments and found a slip of paper with several telephone numbers. Tracing them led him to the home of her lover. When he called, a woman answered, identifying herself as William’s wife, and said she did not know where he had gone.

Ling set up an extension line connected to the house and waited. Soon a call came. He heard a woman warn a man that detectives had been at the house and that he should stay away. He also heard the man instruct the woman to destroy a certain trunk and hide its contents.

Police raided the home and confiscated the trunk. Inside, they found many of the articles Evelyn had admitted to stealing from wealthy Chicago households. Ling also learned where Jones was hiding and arrested him. In custody, Jones boasted that he had taught Evelyn the business and claimed he had an evil influence over her, that she had been a tool in his hands to do with as he pleased.

In all, the pair had stolen and processed goods worth around twenty-five thousand dollars, a sum equivalent to more than eight hundred thousand dollars today. On November 15, 1907, Evelyn Romadka and William Jones stood trial. Both were found guilty, Evelyn of burglary and Jones of receiving stolen property. Each received an intermediate sentence of between one and twenty years in prison.

The case had attracted nationwide press attention. Evelyn was released in 1910. She had learned nothing from her time behind bars. Within a year, she was suspected of leading a notorious gang of female thieves known as the Vampire Women.

Under her direction, the women drugged wealthy men in Chicago nightclubs, slipping sleeping powders into their drinks and then stealing cash, jewelry, and anything of value. The goods were sold through a fence. One of the gang’s victims was a wealthy Kansas man in town on business. He was drugged and robbed of nearly eleven thousand dollars in cash and jewelry.

After regaining consciousness, he reported the crime and was shown mug shots. He identified one photograph: it was Evelyn, though she had been using an alias. Police arrested several of the women, most of whom confessed they worked for a lady called Mrs. G.

R. Graves. When shown photographs, they confirmed that Mrs. Graves was Evelyn, the woman dubbed the Queen of the Vampire Women of Chicago.

Yet Evelyn slipped away again. The Kansas victim had left town before swearing out a warrant and never returned to do so. Police tried to trace her, but after 1911 the trail went cold. Rumors placed her in other cities or under a new identity, but she was never captured again.

Whether she lived out her days in hiding or met an unknown end remains unresolved to this day.