He threw the stick again.
“Well, I am glad someone in this house is getting exercise.” Annie’s soft voice was infused with laughter. “Here, Beatrice thought that lemonade might help with your after-dinner digestion.”
“Did you get the problem resolved?” Nate took the tall glass filled with freshly squeezed lemon juice, sugar, and ice chips. “You know, when I move in, I will be able to add the money I pay Mrs. McPherson to your housekeeping budget. That should let you hire additional staff.”
“Oh, you may be sure I am counting on that. Beatrice has already talked to Tilly about starting full time when we get back from the wedding trip. Wherever that may be.”
Annie smiled at him, and as usual his heart misbehaved.
“Now that we have the date set, I can firm up my plans, and then I promise to at least give you a hint.”
At dinner, Esther Stein announced that through one of her German friends she’d been able to secure St. Mark’s Lutheran church for them to hold an early evening wedding on Wednesday, August 11. Nate’s sister then volunteered to design and print up the invitations. Suddenly, everything seemed to be falling into place—at least on the personal front.
Nate took a sip of the lemonade then said, “I need to write my parents and make completely sure they can be here by that Tuesday at the latest and reserve hotel rooms for them and Billy and Violet. Do you think it will be too late if we hold off sending out the invitations until I get a response from them?”
Annie moved over to the bench beneath the apricot tree and sat down. Nate went over to join her. Dandy gratefully lay down in a spot of shade, the stick carefully placed near at hand in case someone wanted to resume playing with him.
She said, “I can’t see why anyone needs more than two weeks’ notice. And if some of our clients can’t make it...well, so much the better. Beatrice swears she can provide a sufficient wedding supper for fifty or more people, but I would really rather she not have to do so.”
Nate nodded, not really that interested in the details. He looked back at the kitchen door and said, “Is Laura going to join us soon? She told me at dinner she had some important information to impart—about my case.”
Nate’s displeasure when Annie told him Wednesday night that Laura had tracked Seth Timmons down hadn’t fully dissipated.
“I think she is up in her room, primping. Did she tell you that she invited Seth to come by this afternoon to consult with us? I think this was her way of getting him to attend the study session this evening with her friends Kitty and Ned. Oh, there she is.”
Nate couldn’t help but admire his little sister as she came out of the dark kitchen into the summer sunlight, carrying a tray with a pitcher and three more glasses filled with ice. Tall and slim, she glowed with health, and the way her dark brown hair was twisted up to the top of her head, exposing her long neck, was quite attractive. What he didn’t know was how he felt about the idea that the spray of flowers tucked coquettishly behind one ear and the low neck-line of the pink summer dress she was wearing were for Seth Timmons.
She was followed by Kathleen, who carried a small table and another chair, which she brought over to the bench where they were sitting, saying, “Here you go, miss. Enjoy the shade. I will send Mr. Timmons out when he comes. Do you want me to take Dandy back in with me?”
Nate looked down at the dog, who had opened up one eye with the arrival of Laura and Kathleen. “No, he is fine here. I am surprised not to see Jamie; they are so seldom parted.”
“David Chapman is taking Barbara and Jamie to Woodward’s Gardens. There is a balloon ascension scheduled,” said Annie. “Dandy was not invited. Kathleen, my dear, it is too hot for you all to stay a moment longer in the kitchen. I know Patrick is coming by to take you out, but make sure Mrs. O’Rourke and Tilly follow my instructions and sit awhile on the front porch and cool off.”
Once Kathleen had disappeared back into the house, Nate turned to Annie and Laura and said, “I gather you’ve been following what the newspapers have been saying about Mrs. Sullivan? Miss Pitts Stevens isn’t pleased. But at least they haven’t discovered her role in supporting Mrs. Sullivan.”
Annie touched his arm and said, “Do you know if Mrs. Sullivan has seen the papers?”
“I imagine she has. I’ve stopped by every day, but she’s back to not accepting any visits again, at least not from me. Annie, I was wondering if you could find time to come with me on tomorrow. Maybe she won’t turn me away if I have a woman with me. I am really worried that she is going to change her mind and plead guilty rather than have to go through the trial—particularly given what has been said about her in the press.”
“Of course I will make time,” Annie replied. “Perhaps in the evening. I am scheduled to meet with Mrs. Rashers in the morning after I finish up a few loose ends of the audit. You could tell Mrs. Sullivan I’ve come to report on how the business is doing.”
Nate smiled at her and said, “That might help.” Then he turned to Laura and said, trying not to sound angry, “Well, you said at dinner that you had learned something we should know about my client.”
Laura frowned and replied, “Yes, dear brother, I did. I had a long conversation with Iris Bailor, and it is just as we all suspected. Mrs. Sullivan fell in love with her employer in the first six months she worked there. Rashers evidently told her some nonsense about his marriage being in name only. Iris pretended not to know if they’d actually become lovers, but I think it is pretty clear they did.”
“How sad,” Annie said. “From what I have heard, she was a pretty devout girl. She must have felt extremely guilty. Do you know if it was his decision or hers to end it—since I gather the affair was over when she started coming back to church?”
“If Iris is correct, she was the one who finally put an end to it...once and for all...when his wife turned up pregnant—for the second time.”
Annie said that this fit the story the WCPU owner, Mrs. Richmond, told her. And she added, “It is possible that after years of childlessness, Rashers was actually thinking about divorce and remarriage to a younger woman. But once the first son came, I doubt he was ever serious about ending his marriage. Not when his wife had majority control of the shares in the firm. He just wanted to have his cake and eat it too.”
Feeling a wave of shame on behalf of all men, Nate said, “Do you think Mrs. Rashers knew about this?”
“I bet not much gets past her,” said Annie. “But I also think that she would be confident that, with two sons, he wouldn’t ever divorce her.”
Nate wished Laura hadn’t confirmed their suspicions about the affair. Now it seemed even more possible that some evidence would turn up—a letter or something—that would cement the image the press was trying to establish—that the staid, sad Mrs. Sullivan was some kind of wanton woman.
Annie interrupted his thoughts by saying, “What I don’t understand is why Mrs. Sullivan stayed on with the firm once the affair was good and truly ended...especially after she married.”
“I think there are a couple of explanations for that,” said Laura.
She told them about Iris’ belief that Mrs. Sullivan felt a responsibility to stay to protect the younger workers from being seduced by him. She also told them about her conversation with the cigar factory forewoman, who agreed with Iris on that point.
“Now don’t scold me, Nate. Miss Von Klepp was quite helpful—I even got the feeling that if you really wanted her to, she would testify that Rashers was not an entirely model Christian and that Florence didn’t appear the least bit jealous. She said that Florence mentioned recently that she was worried that he’d been tempted to ‘try it on’ with someone else. And she clearly meant something more than the ‘little bit of fun,’ that Von Klepp said she had with him.”
Nate leaned forward. “Someone working for Rashers?”
Laura didn’t answer him right away, and he could tell she was debating about whether or not to tell him something. He said gruffly, “Look, Lau
ra. I’ve said I am not happy about you going around asking people questions. But clearly my wishes don’t matter to you. So if you are going to involve yourself in a case where there is a murderer still on the loose, you have to promise to tell us everything. No secrets.”
Annie put her hand on his arm, and he leaned back and tried to stop glaring.
Laura looked startled. Then she said, “You’re right. I guess I was thinking about how important it was for you to win the case. I didn’t think about what it would mean to the real culprit, who won’t feel safe until someone else has gone to prison for their crime.”
Nate, feeling that he’d woken her up to the potential dangers, said more quietly, “Now, who do you think this other woman might be who is having an affair—if it isn’t Von Klepp?”
“Seth told me there were two women in particular who seemed to be involved with Rashers. One was Von Klepp, the other was a woman who provides the illustrations for a number of Rashers’ clients. It turns out I know the illustrator. She is Nellie Granger, and she actually lives upstairs above the WCPU shop. Nell is only in her mid-twenties, but she is an amazing artist, trained back east at Cooper Union, and she has her own engraving company. Iris took a real shine to her, and about six months ago, she let her move into her apartment upstairs.”
Annie said, “And so you think that this Nell Granger might be the person Florence Sullivan was worried about? I could see that. Given the friendship between Iris and Florence, Florence would certainly try to keep Rashers from seducing Miss Granger the way she’d been seduced.”
Laura nodded, sat up straighter, and said, “What if Nell was the reason Mrs. Rashers believed he was starting up his old behavior but mistakenly thought it was with Florence?”
“Which is why, years after the fact, she insisted he fire Mrs. Sullivan,” replied Annie, with rising excitement. “Well that does make some sense. Because that is another thing that’s been bothering me. I can understand—barely—why Florence might stay on at Rashers if she was no longer infatuated with him. She certainly was making enough money to make it worth her while. I can also understand that she would want to protect other young women as a form of expiation for her own fall from grace. But I couldn’t understand why Mrs. Rashers would insist Florence be fired now if there hadn’t been anything going on for years.”
Nate tried to envision how all this could be used by him in the court room—the trial was only a week away. “So you are saying that even though the affair was long over, Mrs. Sullivan stayed working because of some misguided belief that she could protect other female workers from making the same mistake she did?”
“Miss Von Klepp said she thought Florence also believed that she could convince him to change his ways,” chimed in Laura.
Nate heard Annie make a scoffing sound next to him. He said, “Really Annie, some of us fellows are capable of change.”
She patted his arm, and he continued. “In any event, in this version of events, Rashers recently starts up with another woman—this Nell Granger, perhaps. But his wife mistakenly thinks the other woman he is having the affair with is Mrs. Sullivan. So she insists they take this trip away and that he fire Florence. But he doesn’t want to fire Florence—she is too important to the success of the firm.”
Laura broke in, “What if he then tells the other woman, whoever she is, that they are through? He can’t risk his wife’s continued displeasure. Maybe that other woman is the one who killed him.”
“I’m sorry to disagree,” said Seth Timmons, startling them all. “As I said to you before, Mr. Dawson, I just don’t see a woman being able to kill a big man like Joshua Rashers. More importantly, would Mrs. Sullivan be willing to go to prison to protect this other woman? That seems to be the crucial question.”
*****
Annie watched with amusement as Dandy, who’d been the only one to notice Seth’s quiet approach, continued to bark sharply at the sound of Seth Timmons’ voice. Given that the tiny terrier wasn’t even as tall as the man’s boots, his ferocious demeanor appeared absurd. But Annie knew that Dandy was a brave little soul, who unerringly recognized when anyone posed a danger to his people. And smart, because with one sniff he identified that he’d met Seth before and that the tall man fell in the category of friend. Consequently, Dandy stopped barking and stretched upwards, putting his front paws on Seth’s legs, his little crooked tail waggling joyfully.
Nate rose to shake Seth’s hand, and Laura ran into the kitchen to get another chair, placing it next to hers in the shade of the tree when she returned. While Annie had gotten a glimpse of Seth at Rashers on Thursday, she’d only met him twice before, the second time under very unusual circumstances. She was glad to get the chance to observe him more closely.
He was taller and a bit leaner than Nate, with the slight bow to his legs produced by years in the saddle. While the formal suit he was wearing was obviously worn, the burgundy and silver vest under the black jacket looked new, as did the black necktie, and his white shirt cuffs and collar were starched and pressed and his boots polished. Seth Timmons had made an effort.
Although Laura had said he was about the same age as her brother, Seth appeared much older than Nate, probably because of the weathered state of his skin, another legacy of his earlier career driving cattle to market. When he took off the battered stetson he wore, placing it on the chair Laura was trying to get him to sit down on, Annie saw that there was a faint sprinkling of silver in his thick, closely cropped black hair. However, there was no silver in the full mustache that bracketed his mouth. His eyes were a dark grey, framed by long lashes, and they were looking at her with a distinct twinkle.
Annie smiled, held out her hand, and said, “Welcome, Mr. Timmons. We appreciate you taking time off on your Sunday to come help us out. Do sit down and let Laura pour you some lemonade.”
“Thanks, ma’am,” Seth responded with the slightest hint of a twang, picking up his stetson. Then, only after she and Laura sat, did he take his place on the wooden chair next to Laura. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” he said. “But it does seem to me that we should be looking for a man as the killer––a man who Mrs. Sullivan would be willing to go to prison to protect.”
“You mean her husband—don’t you? Really the only man who fits the bill,” said Nate. “He as good as told me he knew something had happened between her and Rashers. Maybe before they married, she promised him that everything was over. But, like Mrs. Rashers, he could have gotten suspicious that his wife and Rashers had started up again.”
Annie saw Seth glance over at Laura, then he said, “I can’t speak to what Mrs. Sullivan’s relationship with Rashers was before I started working there, but I find it hard to believe that there was anything untoward going on now.”
“We agree,” said Laura. “But what we were speculating about when you arrived is the possibility that if Joshua Rashers was starting up something serious with some other woman, his wife might have jumped to the conclusion it was Florence.”
Seth frowned and shook his head, and Laura lifted up her chin and said, “I don’t agree with you that a woman couldn’t have been the killer. Who better to get close enough to him to take him unawares? Even one of the female apprentices—if he cornered them—or that Orrie Childers. She seems like the sort who might attract the attention of someone like Joshua Rashers.”
Annie saw Seth’s frown deepen, and she intervened. “After seeing how badly paid the young apprentices are and the terms of the contract they are working under, I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that one of them attacked him. But I do think that we should look more carefully at her husband. Nate, you did say that he really didn’t have an alibi.”
“No, he didn’t. And their servant said the two of them argued before he left the house that night. If Alan Sullivan thought Rashers was trying to rekindle an affair with his wife, this would certainly give Sullivan the motive to confront Rashers. And, maybe in the heat of the moment, kill him.”
Laur
a added, “While the Niantic has porters at both doors, it seems to me from what I saw on Thursday that it would be easy for someone to slip into the building and out again without being noticed. Not just Alan Sullivan, but even Mrs. Rashers. Maybe she came into the shop to make sure her husband carried out her demand to fire Florence, discovered he wasn’t going to do it, and struck out at him.”
Annie said, “What we really need to do is come up with evidence that Nate can use in court, evidence that would at least suggest to the jury that there are other people who might have a reason to kill him.”
Nate nodded and said, “Since Mrs. Sullivan is not being helpful at all, I really could use help from all of you. Laura, since you started this line of inquiry, do you think you could find out if this Nellie Granger has an alibi for the time between six-thirty, when Franklin Griggs left the shop with Seth and his apprentice, and seven-fifteen when Mrs. Sullivan got to work?”
“Yes, I will try. I don’t want to ask Iris directly. She’s already given me one tongue lashing when she thought I was suggesting that Florence was guilty. Just think how she’d react if I said I thought it possible that her friend Nell was having an affair with Rashers, much less that I thought she might have murdered him. But I will think of something.”
Nate smiled at his sister and then turned to Seth. “I expect you will be called to testify by the prosecution, and I have a pretty good idea of what you will say if asked if you saw any sign that Mrs. Sullivan was romantically involved with her boss. But I was wondering if you could have an informal word with the porters, see if any of them saw someone, like Mrs. Rashers, come in or out of the Niantic that evening.”
“Would be glad to,” Seth said. “Could be that they’ve only been asked about Mrs. Sullivan’s comings and goings by the police.”
Nate thanked him and said, “I will check with the police to see if they have found any confirmation of Alan Sullivan’s alibi. Also see what they found out about some of Rashers’ business rivals. I already asked them where the widow was at the crucial time, but it sounds like they are taking the word of her servants that she was home. I’m not sure how to go about verifying if she really never left the house.”
Deadly Proof: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery Page 20
