Uneasy Spirits: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery (25 page)

BOOK: Uneasy Spirits: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery
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The Palace Hotel was only four years old and still impressed Nate each time he came through the arch into the Grand Court and looked up at the seven stories of marble balconies. He wondered what it would be like to stay in one of the upstairs suites. Maybe for a honeymoon. For a moment he unleashed his imagination and pictured Annie lying beside him on silk sheets, her hair set loose in fiery gold curls, her dark brown eyes half asleep, her full lips parted.

God, there was little chance of that happening, at least anytime soon
. Nate ran a finger along his too-tight collar, picked up the whiskey he had ordered, and took a long swallow. Not unless he got his Uncle Frank to budge on taking on a new partner or at least look for some more lucrative clients. He’d had another one of those frustrating conversations just this morning, where he would make his case, and his uncle would smile and nod and say that Nate shouldn’t be so impatient, and “everything in good time.”
What the hell does he know about it, finicky old bachelor? I’ll be damned if I let him dictate my future and end up like him, with no wife, no children, no home. At this point, I probably couldn’t even afford to rent a room in Annie’s boarding house, much less support her so she doesn’t have to work.

At least he hadn’t bungled his conversation with her last night, or for that matter on Monday night when she’d found the threatening note and he’d come so close to forbidding her to ever go back to the Framptons’. But he wasn’t a fool. She had been asked to help out Miss Pinehurst, and she was going to see it through to the end. That was just her nature. Interference from him was only going to make her start shutting him out.

He had learned that lesson the hard way when he first met her. He also had come to terms with the fact that her fierce passion, her sharp, uncompromising intelligence, and her stubbornness were some of the very reasons he found her so attractive. He’d just never met any woman like her, ever. If only he made enough to support her, and they got married; then she could quit work and spend her time do-gooding as much as she wanted, without wearing herself out.

She had looked so drained last night. Her skin almost translucent against the stark black of her dress, and for some reason she was limping. He had refrained from asking her why. The glare she gave him when he mentioned how tired she looked had been warning enough. He’d remembered his little sister, Laura, once telling him that women found any reference to their health insulting, since it suggested that they didn’t look their best.

Nate smiled at the thought of Laura in charge of her first school. He was so proud of her. Thirty students, of all ages. Hard to imagine. He was sorry he hadn’t seen her when he was at the ranch, but he knew she’d be home over the winter holidays. He hoped he could convince Annie to come with him to visit the ranch in December, when Laura would be home. But that wouldn’t happen if he couldn’t figure out a way to help her, without getting her back up. He really didn’t want her going to the Framptons’ on Sunday. Maybe if Pierce had any new information, combined with what she had learned already, that would provide enough evidence to convince Mrs. Vetch to give up going to the séances. But if not, and Annie still planned to go to the Framptons’ on Sunday night, he was glad she’d agreed to let him come with her.

He had nearly laughed out loud at how surprised she’d been when he’d said he would join her. He’d expected her to resist the suggestion and argue she didn’t need his help. But that was Annie. She might be damned independent, but she didn’t let this get in the way of achieving her goals. She had accepted his reasoning that having two of them searching the Frampton house would increase the chance of success. Yes, overall, he was quite pleased at how he had handled what could have been a very difficult conversation. And he couldn’t have asked for a better reward. When he stood at the back door and wished her good night, she had permitted him to kiss her.
God, what I wouldn’t do to get a kiss like that every night.


Sorry I’m late. Got held up. Busy day. Had to cover President Grant’s reception at the Pioneer Hall this afternoon, then there’s the banquet tonight, and I’m working on a big story, have to write it all up before tomorrow. Going to be a long night. But a fella’s got to eat, and since the press weren’t invited to the dinner the Mayor’s having for Grant, I thought I’d have an even better meal here! Lord, won’t the city feel dull once Grant starts his trip back east this weekend.”

Pierce waved Nate back in his seat, after shaking his hand, and, as he sat down, he barked at the waiter for “his usual.” Turning to Nate he said, “So, still looking into Simon Frampton? Find out anything?”

Nate didn’t reply, distracted by the implications of Pierce having “a usual” drink at a restaurant as expensive as the Palace Grille. Pierce didn’t wait for an answer; instead he opened up the menu, scanned it quickly, and threw it down.

The waiter appeared with what looked and smelled like bourbon, and Pierce said, “I’ll have the steak, grilled, medium, liver and onions, piece of your pie. Dawson, what’s your pleasure?”

Nate ordered a salad and a steak, and, thinking about Beatrice’s oatmeal cookies that were waiting for him at home, declined dessert. He asked about the “big story.” Pierce kept him entertained with some convoluted yarn about a bribe, a new bride, and a barroom brawl. The man did have a way with a tale, but Nate wondered if any of it was true. After their meals were served and each of them had made respectable inroads into their steaks, Nate brought the conversation back to the subject at hand. “To answer your earlier question, yes, I am still interested in finding out more about the Framptons, but more to the point, have you come up with anything?”

Pierce took a swallow of his bourbon then said, “Well, now, I did ask around. Sounds like they are doing a pretty brisk business. My sources say they actually turn people away, and they have upped their prices since they first arrived in town. Become one of the popular forms of entertainment for the smart young set. But nothing sticks out as suspicious. Lots of old ladies who aren’t going to stop nagging their poor husbands, even after their death. A few of our more successful businessmen, who should know better. And, as I mentioned, some young people looking for an excuse to sit and hold hands in the dark.”

Nate hid his disappointment by turning back to his meal and thought about how he could bring up what Annie had learned without giving her away. “I suppose you may be right about the majority of the people who attend, but I did a little asking around myself, including at police headquarters. There have been a number of complaints filed, including from a relative of a judge who believes he is being defrauded. And from my own contacts, it looks to me like the Framptons could be using information they get from some of their clients to blackmail others.”

Nate could swear this last comment caused a flicker of interest in Pierce, but the man continued to stuff his mouth with the last of his steak, washing it down with the end of his drink.

Pierce then signaled the waiter, asked for his pie and a cup of coffee, and leaned back in his seat. “Well, now, young Dawson, you have been busy. Of course I checked with police myself, and my source said there wasn’t anything prosecutable in the complaints. I can tell you, my editors get one whiff that a judge is involved, and they smell lawsuit. Makes them downright timid. Besides the police, where’d you get your information?”

Nate hesitated. “I’m sorry, I can’t really give you any names, at least not without getting their permission.”

Pierce nodded, not saying anything while the waiter delivered his pie and coffee. Nate thanked the waiter for his coffee and sat back, satisfied at least with the meal, if not with Pierce’s lack of enthusiasm for exposing the Framptons.

He tried again. “Pierce, I can understand that it might seem foolhardy to take after people like the Framptons, who have the support of some of the better-connected members of society. And Simon Frampton, with his upper class accent, beautiful wife, and his butler and all, seems very respectable. But I know for a fact that people are being hurt.”


You’ve been to one of their séances, have you? What’ya think of Arabella, something out of the ordinary, isn’t she?” Pierce grinned.


I didn’t go to a séance. I took your recommendation not to do anything that would get Frampton’s wind up.” Nate paused, looking for a way to describe his visit that wouldn’t give Annie away. He chose his next words. “But I did discover some acquaintances who attend, and I offered to meet them and escort them home, that’s when I met the Framptons.”


These acquaintances the ones you think are being hurt? If so, if you could get them to talk to me, I might be able to do something. Otherwise, far as I see it, there just isn’t much there. At least not enough to interest my editors.”

Nate wondered if Annie could convince either Miss Pinehurst or Mr. Vetch to talk to Pierce. It was worth a try, so he said, “I will see what I can do. I will let you know if I can get anyone to talk to you directly.”


Good, good.” Pierce said, taking out his watch and checking the time. “Now, I’ve got to run. Wish I’d more time. I’ve been thinking about your future, young man. Augustus Hart, our next state attorney general, is in town next week. A little victory tour of the state before he takes office. I have an interview scheduled. ‘What the new constitution means to the attorney general’s office.’ That sort of thing. But I can guarantee he’s looking for a few good lawyers who aren’t corrupt to work for him up in Sacramento. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you.” Pierce rose, throwing down some bills on the table, stuck out his hand to Nate, and gave him another of his wide smiles. “I assume you wouldn’t mind relocating up river, if necessary?”

Nate rose as well and shook Pierce’s hand vigorously. “Pierce, that’s damned good of you. Of course I would be interested. Just let me know if there is anything I can do. If there was a chance to arrange a meeting, take Hart out for a meal. Whatever you think best.”


Good man. I’ll let you know. But I have to run. I think I left enough, but you will settle the bill, won’t ya? Good talking to you.”

Nate sat back down, watching as Pierce wound his way through the tables, which were beginning to fill up, shaking hands, slapping backs, and leaving a ripple of laughter in his wake. He then took up the bills Pierce had left and counted them. When he had consulted the tab, he wasn’t surprised to see he was going to have to fork out more than two-thirds of the total. But if Pierce got him an interview with Hart, it would be well worth it. Sacramento! Probably wouldn’t have to be there full time, except when the legislature was in session. Even then, only about a six-hour steamboat ride away. He could come home some weekends. Wouldn’t have to do it forever, but the salary had to be better than he was making working with his uncle. And the connections he would make!

With prospects like that, he might even propose to Annie and have a chance of her saying yes.
I wish I could tell her about this. It would help take her mind off the fact that Pierce didn’t have anything we can use against the Framptons. But I’d better not, in case nothing pans out.

Chapter Twenty-five
Friday evening, October 24, 1879
 


Mrs. Lennett, Medium and Independent Slate Writer, has resumed her private sittings. Office hours from 11-6 pm, 817 Bush St.”

San Francisco Chronicle
, 1879

 

 

Doesn’t look like there is going to be any Evie May tonight
, Annie thought. Simon hadn’t opened the doors to the small back parlor, and he had whispered something to Judge Babcock that had clearly upset him. Annie was disappointed, not only because she was increasingly curious about whom she would meet if she entered the cabinet again, but because she had hoped to test her theory that Simon triggered Evie May in some fashion by the words he spoke at the beginning of each sitting.

Annie remembered Simon said something like “dear departed ones” when it was time for someone to go to the cabinet, and she was pretty sure he also quoted a phrase that had the word judge in it when it was time for Judge Babcock to go and meet his daughter. In her own case, she thought the key word was mother, combined again with the phrase “dear departed ones.” What she wasn’t so sure about was whether there was some phrase used to end the sessions. Tonight she had hoped to test her theory.

Instead she was battling to keep awake. This was only her third séance with Arabella, and already she was growing jaded. The only thing that had happened of any interest was the sudden attention Jack Sweeter paid to her at the beginning of the evening. When she had first arrived at the séance room, he’d given her a charming smile, introduced himself and his cousin, and neatly maneuvered her and Mrs. Larkson into a corner by the drinks table. He’d then begun a series of twenty questions that were clearly designed to figure out precisely where Mrs. Fuller fit into the social strata of San Francisco society. Mrs. Larkson had at first looked bored and then irritated, and Annie had gotten very tired of trying to find new ways to appear to know people she had only heard about.

She’d felt relieved, therefore, when Arabella had arrived, and the séance had begun, following a now familiar routine. They had moved into the moaning stage, the lights and music had risen and fallen, the table had shook, Mr. Ruckner had discussed the impending arrival of his mother-in-law with his dead wife, and now Mrs. Mott was again conversing with one of her deceased Kansas relatives, this time about their special cure for bunions. Annie didn’t know how Arabella had the patience to conduct this sort of charade night after night.

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