Deadly Proof: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery (36 page)

A
s Laura and Annie sped across the city in a swaying hansom cab, Laura felt a strong sense of time repeating itself—since once again she was on a journey to save Seth Timmons.

Annie had been wonderful. She didn’t pepper Laura with questions, didn’t argue with her when she said that she must go immediately to the police station and straighten everything out. Instead, she’d organized everyone. She sent Patrick and Kathleen out to engage two cabs, one to take Patrick to hunt down Nate and ask him to meet them at the city jail, the other for the two of them.

Annie had told Laura to stay upstairs until the cab came...even though she wanted to go down to the kitchen to ask Patrick for more details.  She said, “I’ve told you all he knows, and the sooner Patrick leaves to find Nate, the better. And think about it. Both Beatrice and Esther Stein are in the kitchen, all upset over the news. If you go downstairs, they will be the ones asking for details—from you.”

Laura saw the sense in that argument and waited impatiently in her room until Kathleen came up and said the cab was out front. Bless the girl, she’d whispered that if Laura needed her to speak up about seeing Seth last night, she would. But otherwise, she would keep mum.

Now Annie and she were sitting together in the dark cab. It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get to the Old City Hall and the jail at this time of night on a Sunday.

Annie said softly, “I think now is the time when you need to explain to me exactly what happened last night, Laura. We can then decide how much you need to tell the police...or your brother, for that matter.”

“Annie, I wouldn’t have you keep a secret from him. That isn’t fair.”

“Let me cross that bridge when I’ve heard your story.”

Laura scooted close so that the cab driver seated up behind them on his perch wouldn’t be able to hear. Then she told Annie about how she’d gone to intercept Seth on his way home from work because she’d found she just couldn’t concentrate on her studying until she apologized. She explained it was her idea to go into his room and that he’d only agreed so that no one would see her standing on the street with him.

“After we settled everything, it seemed a shame not to go ahead and study for a little while,” she said. “The plan was that then Seth would get a cab for us on Broadway. I told him everyone would just assume he’d brought me home from Kitty’s. I mean, Ned has done the same for me several times over the last few weeks.”

“But you said you were with him between ten and midnight, that doesn’t seem like ‘a little while,’” said Annie.

“Yes, you see, he fell asleep—and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. Then I must have dozed off a bit. Just for a few minutes. When I woke up and got him awake, we discovered it was a quarter to twelve. He walked me straight home.”

“You both fell asleep?” Annie’s voice expressed her incredulity.

“Well, he’d worked over twelve hours, and I didn’t really get that much sleep Friday night.”

Laura heard Annie chuckle, and she said, “I know, not much of an excuse. But don’t you see? Seth’s probably in trouble because he won’t say I was with him. Even if I can get this all straightened out, it might be too late for him to take the university exam tomorrow morning—and I couldn’t bear for him to miss that chance. Didn’t you say that they’ve been questioning him all day? He should have told them I was his alibi. He’s such a fool.”

“But an honorable fool. Laura, surely you understand what it could mean if you go to the police and tell them you were alone, in a man’s room, last night?”

“It will mean they will have to let him go. I can’t be worried about my reputation in a matter like this.”

“If they believe you. How will they know you aren’t lying? Did anyone see you go into his room or leave?”

“But why would I lie? Anyway, Kathleen saw him bring me home at about a quarter past midnight. That would verify my story, wouldn’t it?”

Annie said, “Look, we are slowing down. We must be there. You will have to tell your brother just what you told me. Be guided by him. You haven’t left out anything relevant, have you?”

Laura felt her cheeks flush, and she said, “You mean like the fact that before we came on home, Seth and I kissed?”

Annie gave her hug and said with another chuckle, “I don’t think that is what you would call relevant information, so I wouldn’t muddy the waters by telling anybody else that particular fact.”

Monday, morning, August 2, 1880

––––––––

“The defendant is endeavoring to prove an alibi.”
San Francisco Chronicle
, January 12, 1880

––––––––

S
eth rolled his shoulders to get some of the kinks out and warmed his hands on the mug. What he wouldn’t have given for his bedroll to sleep on last night. Taking a sip, he almost spat out the black sludge that gave every indication of having been on the boil since yesterday. But he needed to be awake for whatever happened this morning. He wished he knew what time it was. Oddly, he only felt a vague sense of regret when he remembered this was the day he was supposed to sit for his entrance exams to the university. Didn’t seem to matter much anymore. Not when it looked a lot like he might be hanged for a murder he didn’t commit.

Off and on, all yesterday afternoon and into the evening, Chief Jackson and Sergeant Thompson took turns asking him the same questions over and over. He gave them the same answers, over and over. No more. No less. In his estimation, they gave him more information than they got. He now had no doubt that Orrie Childers was dead, presumably murdered, and the bloody wrench obviously played some role. They clearly believed that he had an assignation with her Saturday night. However, from their questions, he wasn’t sure if they thought he killed her as a result of some sort of lovers’ quarrel...or that they thought he and Orrie were in some scheme together and there’d been a falling out among thieves.

What they didn’t say, but Seth kept thinking, was that Orrie’s death must have something to do with Rashers’ murder. She must have been involved in his killing in some fashion or saw or heard something. Then she was killed to keep her quiet. And whoever did kill her—also tried to frame him for her murder.

Around eight-thirty last evening, they finally brought him back to his jail cell. He figured they were done for the night. But an hour later, Nate Dawson appeared and beckoned him over to speak to him through the bars. In a cold fury, he told Seth that Laura was going to tell Chief Jackson that she was with Seth during the time of Orrie’s murder.

When Seth said she mustn’t do that—that he would deny it, Nate had grabbed him through the bars and said, “You do that and I will horsewhip you. I’m not happy about it, but she’s made up her mind that she has to tell the truth, no matter what the personal cost. Don’t you go making her sacrifice worthless by saying she’s a liar.”

Then he let go of him, saying, “Don’t think we won’t be discussing at a later date why you let my sister—and I can very well believe it was her idea––talk you into entertaining her in your room until all hours of the night. For now, my job is to get you out of jail so that I can convince her to go home and get some sleep.”

Since then, Seth had been sitting on the hard bench, trying to figure out how he could have gotten Laura mixed up with all this and what he could do to make it up to her. He really hoped Nate would horsewhip him. He deserved it.

How could he keep making the same mistake over and over with her, letting her convince him that everything could be simple and straight-forward—just because in her innocence that was the way she wanted life to be? When she stuck out her hand to shake on their friendship, he sincerely believed at that moment that it was possible they could simply be friends, companions in the pursuit of knowledge. And for a short time, as she sat at his table studying––the tip of her tongue peeking out at the corner of her mouth...her sweet, soft mouth––he’d even been happy.

And then he’d fallen asleep and dreamed of her. They were riding horses across an open plain. He helped her dismount, and she laughed as he swung her around in the sunshine. When he heard her say his name so gently, he started kissing her, and for a moment, he really thought it was still a dream. Yet, to his eternal shame, when he realized what was happening was real, he hadn’t stopped. He hadn’t even stopped when her surprised reaction to his deeper caresses revealed that she’d never been truly kissed before. He hadn’t even stopped when she responded with an enthusiasm that set his body on fire. And he couldn’t honestly say he would have stopped if the book that had been on the bed hadn’t slammed to the floor—shocking him back to his senses.

“Mr. Timmons?”

Seth looked up to see the guard standing at the open cell door, Nate behind him. The guard said, “You can pick up your things at the office on your way out.”

As they walked down the hall, he looked over at Nate, whose exhaustion was evident in the dark smudges under his eyes. Seth said quietly, “What does this mean?”

“Means that they have withdrawn all charges. The baker who lives in the rooms across from you said he heard you talking to a woman on the landing outside your door about eight-thirty Saturday night. And Miss Kathleen told Sergeant Thompson this morning that she saw you talking to Laura in the boarding house backyard at quarter after midnight. Together with Laura’s testimony, this gives you a pretty tight alibi for the time when they believe Miss Childers was murdered.”

As the guard ushered them through the door out of the jail to the rest of the floor, Seth said, “How can I possibly repay...”

“Not now...I said this is a discussion for later. Here, get your things.”

Seth took his coat and pulled it on, putting his packet of cigarettes, matches, and wallet in his inside pocket. As he took up his watch, he saw that it had wound down, and he wondered again what time it was. He signed for his possessions and then clamped his stetson on his head and nodded for Nate to lead the way.

They walked down another corridor, and when they turned a corner, Laura appeared at his side.

“Hurry up, Kitty’s carriage is outside waiting,” she said, grabbing his arm, tugging him forward.

When he didn’t move, she looked up at him with irritation. She tugged again, saying, “Come on, Seth. We need to get you home so you can get cleaned up and to the ferry within the hour. You need to get a move on if you are going to make your eleven o’clock exam time.”

Monday, early morning, August 2, 1880

––––––––

“President Le Conte...called attention to the urgent needs of the University...primarily a ‘Loan Fund,’ the interest of which might be used to assist deserving students.”
San Francisco Chronicle
, June 3, 1880

––––––––

A
s Nate watched a bemused Seth Timmons be led away by Laura, he said to Annie, “Do you think she is going to personally scrub him up herself?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her. But Ned Goodwin is out in the carriage with Kitty, so I suspect if Mr. Timmons needs any assistance, Ned will provide it. Also, I checked, and Kitty’s lady’s maid is with them, so everything is perfectly respectable.”

He shook his head. “I would think worrying about propriety where Laura is concerned may be a moot point. How is it that within a six-month period I’ve twice had to stand by and listen to my little sister explain to the police her involvement in a criminal matter?”

Annie gave him one of her comforting smiles, and she said, “You know very well she had to do what she did. And I guess it is a good thing that she was with him—or you would be now trying represent two innocent people facing murder charges.”

“What do I tell my parents? At least I can put off making that decision. It’s the only positive thing that’s come of postponing the wedding. But what if the press gets ahold of this?”

“Why should they? Jackson was able to keep her name out of the news last time.”

“Yes. He has been good about that—and keeping your investigations over the past year confidential. Nevertheless, I’ll check with Tim Newsome today and tell him to keep his ears open, in case he hears her name come up with any of the other reporters. Especially that Jones from the
Bulletin
who has been giving Mrs. Sullivan such a bad time.”

Annie pulled away from him, saying, “I’d almost forgotten about Florence Sullivan. We must go right down and tell her what has happened.” Annie looked quizzically at him. “You do agree that the murder of Miss Childers, no matter how awful, is good news for your client, don’t you?”

“Yes. Of course I do...but you needn’t come with me. I know you have appointments this morning. And while Laura assured me she did get a few hours sleep when you took her back to the boarding house, I would warrant you didn’t get much rest.”

“I got a good sight more rest than you did. My first appointment is at ten-thirty with Mrs. Rashers––if she still wants to meet me, given that her print shop is once again a crime scene. So there is no reason for me to go back to the boarding house before then. I would just get pulled into telling everyone what has been going on.”

As they waited for the woman’s matron to ask Mrs. Sullivan if she would receive them, Nate thought about what to say to his client. He didn’t want to raise false expectations since Jackson told him that District Attorney Dart was adamant that Orrie’s death didn’t change his belief that Florence was guilty of Rashers’ murder.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Sullivan cried, “What has happened?” as they entered her cell. She let Annie take her hands, but she looked over at Nate as she said, “The matron said it was important that I see you this morning because of something that occurred at Rashers.”

Annie gave the agitated woman a hug and led her over to sit on the bed, saying, “We are sorry to have to tell you...but Miss Childers was found dead Saturday night...at the print shop.”

“Orrie Childers? But how? What happened to her?” Mrs. Sullivan seemed bewildered.

Nate came and sat down across from her. “This is what we know so far. She entered the Niantic Building a little before ten, the night porter letting her in. The porter said that she told him that she’d been asked to come in to do a last-minute job, which happened occasionally, so he didn’t think much about it. At midnight, when the porter made the usual rounds, he found the back door to Rashers wide open and a lamp burning. He went in to check and found Miss Childers dead on the floor. The coroner says that she was first knocked out with a wrench, then strangled to death. Initially, they thought that Mr. Timmons was responsible, but he left Rashers at eight—before Miss Childers got there.”