“No, but we needed to give some reason as to why we wanted two beds,” Lucy replied. “The clerk was giving us an odd look, and we don’t want to be remembered.” She turned and looked at the bed. “There’s no need for this to be awkward. I’ll take the left side, you take the right, and if we happen to brush hands or something equally as scandalous in our sleep, it’s not the end of the world, all right?”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. Not the end of the world.” He appreciated her no-nonsense attitude—he’d been worried about her reactions to sharing, but she took care of it beautifully. Her approach would make it easier on him, that was for sure.
They took turns washing up and changing, then headed back out to find the Occidental Hotel. She’d changed out of her brown dress and now wore something in light blue, and Jed found it hard to keep his eyes off her. There was something about that color that made her seem to come alive, and he was already fascinated. If she became any more interesting to him, he’d forget why he was in San Francisco in the first place.
When they reached the Occidental, they left word at the front desk that Mr. Collins’ niece Lucy had arrived in town and was staying at the Crawford House. Then they took the advice of the desk clerk and crossed the street, heading west to find the San Francisco Star restaurant.
“Oh, this is lovely,” Lucy said as they took their seats. “Thank you for suggesting this. These last few days have been such a whirlwind, I’m glad for the chance to sit and relax for a few minutes.”
“It will do us both good,” Jed replied. The restaurant was decorated in forest green and cream, with rich mahogany tables and chairs. He wasn’t going to worry about the cost—not for this meal. They had been frugal thus far and would continue to be, but Lucy deserved something a little special. For that matter, so did he. They hadn’t had a wedding dinner, after all.
He chuckled, thinking about the Watkins.
“What is it?” Lucy asked.
“Wedding dinners . . . and chicken . . .”
She smirked. “And outhouses.”
“Yes, and outhouses.”
Just as Jed spoke, the waiter showed up at the table. “I’m sorry, sir, but we haven’t had outhouses for some time. Perhaps a water closet would be more to your liking. I can direct you.”
Jed pressed his lips together, wanting to laugh and yet also wanting to disappear. He hadn’t expected that they’d be overheard. “Thank you, no. I would like to inquire about your specials of the day.”
The waiter gave a quick nod and recited the menu. Jed chose soup and a steak, and Lucy chose soup and chicken. Once the waiter was out of earshot, Jed turned back to Lucy, sure his face was aflame.
“That will teach me to talk about outhouses in polite company,” he said, glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being overheard this time.
“I’m not sure that waiter was very polite. He seemed a little too eager to put you in your place,” Lucy replied.
“Maybe we should scandalize him even more when he comes back—I could tell you all the details of setting my broken arm.”
“Oh, yes, please do. I’m actually quite interested.”
Jed laughed. “All right, I will, but probably later. I think I’ve probably pushed my luck a little too far with him, and I don’t want to get thrown out before we have something to eat.”
They continued to chat over their meal and as they walked back to the hotel. Jed was finding it hard to believe that he had only met Lucy recently—it seemed as though he’d known her his whole life, he was that comfortable with her.
When they reached their hotel, the desk clerk gave them a message. Mr. Collins had returned to the Occidental, and would wait in his suite for them to call.
“Now it’s time for the adventure to begin,” Lucy said, straightening her shoulders.
And time for the fun to be over. Jed nodded, suppressing a sigh of disappointment. As much as he enjoyed his job, he was having an even better time getting to know Lucy better in a more relaxed environment. “Let’s go,” he said, masking his feelings as they left the hotel once again.
Chapter Nine
“Lucy, my dear, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’ve come.” Mr. Collins gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she noticed how his hand trembled as he clasped her wrist. This wasn’t the same man she and her father had seen just a matter of weeks ago.
“Mr. Collins, this is Jed Green, my trainer.” She’d tell him about the wedding later. Right now, the focus needed to be on finding Mrs. Collins.
They sat down in the corner of Mr. Collins’ room. Lucy glanced around and appreciated the rich decorations and the comfortable layout. She wished Pinkerton agents could afford such luxuries, but their humble hotel would have to suffice.
“Please tell us everything that’s happened from the moment you arrived,” she said, turning back to Mr. Collins.
The man pulled in a ragged breath. “We arrived and checked into the hotel, and that first night, we stayed in. Delphine was feeling a little worn out from the journey, so we went to bed early, but the next morning, she felt quite all right and wanted to do some sightseeing. We hired a driver and visited some of the different points of interest in the city, and then she wanted to see Chinatown. We’ve just returned from living in China for the last four years,” he said, turning to Jed.
Jed nodded. “It must have been a marvelous experience. About what time did you arrive in Chinatown?”
Lucy noticed how he acknowledged what Mr. Collins had said and then steered the conversation back on course. She’d have to remember that trick.
“Oh, it was around three in the afternoon. We wandered up and down a bit and looked in some shops, but then we wanted to rest, so we came back to the hotel. We ate dinner that night with a nice couple from New York who were also here to see the sights, and the next morning, the ladies decided to return to Chinatown together and do some shopping. The lady—a Mrs. Gresham—wanted Delphine’s advice about silks, and us husbands went along reluctantly. At times like this, husbands aren’t much more than walking pocketbooks.”
Lucy smiled. Yes, Mrs. Collins was fond of spending money, but Mr. Collins had never begrudged it. Even now, he spoke indulgently.
“I thought for sure we’d visited every silk shop in the area, but the ladies wanted to go back the next day and the one following. Eventually, Mr. Gresham and myself tired of Chinatown and gave the ladies our leave to go by themselves. I hired a young boy from the area to go with them and carry their packages, and they had a marvelous time. I thought Delphine’s fascination with Chinatown would simmer down a bit when the Greshams left to go home, but it didn’t. In fact, she seemed to spend more time there than ever.”
“Was the boy still going with her?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, he was. I felt safer knowing she had a companion.”
“Safer? Did you feel like she was in danger?”
“Oh, nothing like that.” Mr. Collins waved his hand. “I mean, in a general sense. How you take precautions. You know what I mean.”
Jed nodded. “Yes. Please continue.”
Mr. Collins cleared his throat. Lucy recognized that he was becoming emotional. “After a few more days, I noticed that Delphine was acting strangely. She’d be almost in her own little world, she’d stumble, she’d stare into space—I asked her once if she’d been drinking, and then we both laughed because she detests the taste of liquor. At other times, she seemed sleepy. I suggested that she was doing too much sightseeing and that she’d be better off resting, but that idea seemed to put her in a panic and she insisted on going out.”
Lucy glanced over at Jed. He had an intense look on his face, and she wished she could tell what he was thinking.
“How long after that did she go missing?” Jed asked.
“It was a matter of a few days at most. I kept suggesting that we go home, but she’d come up with this reason or that reason why we should stay. I realized it was a lost cause and began to wonder if we would simply relocate
to San Francisco.” He nodded toward Lucy. “She’d suggested several times that we take up our operations in California because it would make international shipping so much easier, and I thought it might be time to listen—especially when my wife wouldn’t hear of going home to Denver.
“I was about to tell her my thoughts, but when I woke up that morning, she was gone already. I saw that she’d taken a few dresses and her jewelry, along with a sum of cash. This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing—she’d packed carefully, from what I could tell. I’ve been looking for her ever since.”
“Have you been in touch with the Greshams to see if they noticed anything odd about her behavior?” Jed asked.
Mr. Collins blinked. “No. It never occurred to me—they left before she started acting strangely.”
“Still, their thoughts might be useful. Did you happen to get their contact information?”
Mr. Collins rose and walked over to the dresser. “He gave me his card. He said he might be interested in investing in our business.” He picked up the card and brought it over to Jed. “Here you go.”
Jed quickly copied down the information into his notebook and gave the card back to Mr. Collins. Lucy wondered why he didn’t just keep the card—she’d ask him about that later.
A knock sounded on the door, and Mr. Collins answered it to admit a hotel maid carrying a tea tray. “I took the liberty of ordering up some refreshment,” he said as she set the tray on a small table between the chairs.
“Would you like me to pour, sir?” she asked.
Lucy didn’t think they wanted a stranger overhearing their conversation. “I’ll pour,” she offered, and the maid curtsied and excused herself.
Jed sent her a grateful look, and she smiled. She had no idea what she was doing as far as the investigation went, but it felt good to support him even if it was in a small, seemingly insignificant way.
She handed the tea around and noticed that Mr. Collins’ hands trembled as he held the saucer. She feared for his health—this kind of strain had to be taking its toll on him.
Jed took a few sips, then set his cup down on the table. “Mr. Collins, you’ll forgive me for being blunt, but you realize I need to look at every possible aspect of the case. Is there any possibility that Mrs. Collins had become enamored of someone?”
Lucy fought to hold in a sudden laugh.
Mr. Collins looked startled, then shook his head. “I would be very surprised indeed if that was the case,” he said. “My dear Delphine is the kindest, sweetest, most darling woman alive, and we were very happy in our marriage.”
Jed made a note. “You say that she’d been spending her time in Chinatown. Do you have any idea if she’d wandered away from that section of town?”
“She never said so if she did.”
“I’d like to speak with the boy you hired.”
Mr. Collins nodded. “Of course. I’d like to suggest that tomorrow morning, we head down there together, and I’ll show you the different places where she liked to visit.”
Jed glanced at Lucy, then turned back. “Mr. Collins,” he began, and Lucy sensed that he was trying to speak circumspectly, “I need to speak openly with you again, if I might.”
“Of course, Agent Green. Whatever is necessary to find my wife—please don’t feel as though you need to cushion things for me.” Mr. Collins spoke bravely, but Lucy thought he looked a bit apprehensive to hear whatever Jed was about to say. She felt the same way, actually.
“Thank you.” Jed laid his notebook to the side and met Mr. Collins’ gaze squarely. “I was assigned to this case because I’ve recently been investigating opium dens.”
“Opium? Isn’t that a narcotic substance?”
Jed nodded. “That’s right, and a great deal of it has been introduced to America by means of the Chinese.”
Mr. Collins blinked. “Are you saying that my wife has somehow gotten mixed up in this?”
“I can’t possibly know for sure at this point, but everything you’ve said so far about her behavior makes me wonder.”
Mr. Collins sat back and shook his head. “My wife is a cultured woman, a wealthy woman. She has everything she could ever want—what incentive would she have to try something like that, let alone becoming caught up in it?”
Lucy felt terrible for him. He seemed stunned at the very idea. It was definitely difficult to picture Mrs. Collins living that sort of lifestyle, but the evidence seemed to be pointing in that direction, and she didn’t have another explanation to offer.
“Opium use isn’t limited to the poorer classes,” Jed explained. “In fact, the sellers target wealthier buyers because they have more money to spend on it. I’ve heard many stories of a man or woman who lost everything they had, including their homes, because of their addiction. As the substance leaves their body, they become frantic, wondering when they’ll be able to get more, and they’re willing to pay quite a lot to keep from feeling that panic.”
Mr. Collins pinched his nose bridge, his eyes closed. “First we were talking about the possibility of a lover, and now an opium addiction,” he said, sounding weary. “Such unsavory things. I suppose, though, that any reason for her disappearance would have to be unsavory—if all was right, she wouldn’t be missing.”
“Sadly, that’s correct,” Jed replied. “And that brings me to my next point. You said you wanted to show us around Chinatown.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Jed shifted a little in his seat. “That’s a good idea, and yet, it’s not.”
Lucy was curious about that. “It’s not?”
“It would be best for us not to be seen in public with Mr. Collins,” Jed explained. “If she has been tucked away somewhere, the people who did the tucking are aware of you, sir, and that you’re looking for her. If we’re seen together, they would know that we’re also looking, and they would make it more difficult for us to get the information we need. I think the best thing is for us to remain incognito, as it were, so we can look around without suspicion.”
“I believe you’re right,” Mr. Collins said. “Oh, this is so complicated. And every minute, I think about my sweetheart and wonder what she might be going through. Is she warm? Is she fed? How do these opium dens treat their clients, Agent Green?”
Jed glanced at Lucy again. She didn’t know if that was to gauge her reaction or to draw strength. “Places like this cater to their wealthier clients and put them in nice rooms with pillows and refreshments and the like. If this is indeed where Mrs. Collins is, she won’t be cold or hungry. The difficulty, Mr. Collins, is that as the addiction grows worse, she’ll stop caring about eating and drinking. She’ll simply forget because her body craves the opium and nothing else. Over time, she’s likely to become very ill.”
Mr. Collins stood up and walked over to the window, staring out through the glass. “So she’s not hungry or cold, but she’s losing her sense of reality?”
“We don’t know for sure that’s where she is,” Lucy said. “We’re acting on hunches, and we’re merely trying to prepare you in case we’re right. She could be somewhere else altogether.”
“But if she’s somewhere else, she’s likely not being given pillows and refreshments, is she?” Mr. Collins took hold of the edge of the curtain and squeezed it as though it was keeping him upright. “It sounds to me like an opium den is the kindest place for her to be right now.”
Lucy had to agree with him, although it pained her to do so. If Mrs. Collins were anywhere else, she was likely being mistreated, starved, held against her will … In a den, she’d be living in her own reality, smoking away all her money, but likely not being abused. There simply was no pleasant answer here. If she’d run away with a lover, chances were that she was safe, but Mr. Collins was right. Every possibility was unsavory, and they each presented their own set of tragedies.
She refilled everyone’s teacups, wishing she had some hope to add to the conversation. Everything seemed so bleak. No one had yet mentioned the other possibi
lity—that Mrs. Collins was already dead—and she appreciated that. She wanted to stay focused on a positive outcome.
“If a person has been addicted to opium, is it hard for them to stop taking it?” she asked.
Jed pressed his lips together. “It’s one of the most difficult things there is,” he replied. “When we find her, if she truly has been living in one of these places, you’ll want to seek a doctor’s care, Mr. Collins. You may need to place her in a hospital or other sort of care facility that can see her through the transition. I need to warn you that she will be delusional and hysterical as the opium leaves her body, and she will crave it every day for the rest of her life.”
“That’s horrible,” Lucy said, trying not to shudder at the thought of it. What would it be like to be so consumed by a substance that you would never be free of it? It seemed unfair that these people were stumbling into these places without knowing the ramifications only to find themselves trapped and unable to escape.
“It’s very horrible, and a reality for many. There is help available, though, and we’ll do whatever we can.” Jed set his teacup down again. “Mr. Collins, I have a compromise to suggest.”
The man turned from the window and took his seat again. The tea Lucy had poured him was surely cold by now, but he drank it anyway. “What sort of compromise?” he said at last.
“We’ll go with you to Chinatown in the morning, but we’ll hang back and not speak to you directly. You can indicate your wife’s favorite places to visit by nodding your head toward them as you pass or by some other means, and we’ll take note of them. Then we’ll return the next day and begin our questioning.”
Mr. Collins nodded. “That sounds reasonable. How will you keep from looking suspicious? Will you pretend to be taking in the sights?”
Jed glanced over at Lucy, and she sighed. It was time to tell the full story, and while she wasn’t looking forward to it, it was best to be done with it.
“We’ll have a cover story, as they say,” she replied. “We’ll be telling everyone that we’re on our honeymoon trip.”
An Agent for Lucy Page 7
