“I see. Where is your father?”
“Off to an emergency meeting of the Black Midnight.” He shook his head. “Not that he phrased it that way, but that was the gist of the explanation he gave to Miss Hattie. I figure they’re gathered in an office somewhere on campus, plotting their next move.”
“Are you worried about that at all?”
“I should be,” he said. “But if it gives him something to do and keeps him out of trouble, I guess there’s no harm in it.”
Miss Hattie bustled in with a plate overflowing with food and set it in front of Annie. “Enjoy,” she said in a singsong voice. “I’ve got pie in the oven for later, and I’m thinking of making another roast. The last one was delicious.”
“Thank you,” Annie said.
The future Mrs. Joplin headed back toward the kitchen, then stopped short and turned around to face them. “Annie, I meant to talk to you about something last night, and I completely forgot. The first time I met you, I told Ikey that you reminded me of someone.”
Dread rose as Annie tried very hard to keep any sign of it off her face. “Yes, I remember you mentioning it.”
“Did he tell you I figured it out?”
“No,” she said, cutting a glance in Isaiah’s direction. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and she relaxed slightly. Whatever Miss Hattie had told him, if anything, he had completely discounted it.
“Well, I have. If you’re not a copy of Queen Victoria at your age, I’ll eat my hat.”
“You’d better throw your hat in with the roast so it’ll be nice and tasty,” Isaiah told her. “Because I guarantee that Annie isn’t related to the queen. That’s just silly.”
Miss Hattie gave her an expectant look. Annie’s heart sank.
“Well, as Isaiah said, the idea of that is just silly, isn’t it? How would a relative of the queen become a Pinkerton detective? It just isn’t done.”
The housekeeper gave her another long look, then shrugged. “I suppose it’s a silly thought,” she said on an exhale of breath. “Well, you two enjoy your breakfast. I need to make sure Alfie doesn’t get into the rest of the bacon. I was thinking of adding it to the potatoes I’m making to go with the roast.”
Miss Hattie disappeared into the kitchen, and the door closed behind her. Before Annie could speak, she heard Miss Hattie’s distinct cry. “Alfie! Bad dog.”
“Oh no,” Annie said.
“Tell me, Annie,” Isaiah said as he peered at her over his coffee cup. “How does a relative of the queen become a Pinkerton detective?”
Her breath froze in her throat. Words failed her.
“Let me guess. First, she has to find someone in the Metropolitan Police to support her in her quest to become a special constable. If I remember right, that’s the only way someone who isn’t qualified for the police force can serve. From there, all it would take would be a jump across the pond with a letter from your supervising officer, and a Pinkerton detective would be born.”
She tried not to gape at how close he had come to the truth. “That’s not it at all,” she said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fine. Don’t believe me.”
“Annie.” He set down his mug and studied her. “If I have any of this wrong, correct me, please.”
She sighed. “I never wanted to leave the Metropolitan Police. I’ve told you that.”
“You have, now that I think of it. Remind me why you had to.”
“I never told you that part, but I suppose it doesn’t hurt to tell you now.” She paused and took a sip of coffee to buy a moment of time and bolster her courage. “My father was appalled when he found out. I hadn’t told him or Mama.”
“I can understand his reluctance to have a daughter on the police force.” He held up a hand to ward off any response from her. “You’re more qualified and a better detective than most men I’ve worked with, but it is a dangerous job. As a father, I would wish to protect my child, not put him or her in danger.”
“Yes, well, thank you for the compliment. Papa didn’t care about how well or poorly I performed my duties as special constable. He was more concerned whether I would be discovered.”
“By people in his social circle?” Isaiah offered.
“No,” she said slowly, “by my great-grandmother the queen.”
Chapter 19
Ike could only stare. “Your grandmother is Queen Victoria. The Queen Victoria who lives in Buckingham Palace?”
“She is my great-grandmother, and easily several hundred people are ahead of me in line for the throne, so if you’re interested in me for any potential royal title I might bestow on you, you’re out of luck.”
“Annie,” he said, shaking his head. “I, well…” He seemed to be at a loss for words.
“And this is exactly why I never told you.” She gave him a look that would have made Granny proud. “I’ve told you what you wanted to know, and here are the results.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re looking at me in a very strange way, Isaiah. Like I’m some sort of species you’ve never seen but are curious to learn about.”
He chuckled. “Well, in a way you are, Annie. I’ve never met royalty, and I am certainly curious about what it’s like.”
Annie’s temper rose. “You want to know what it’s like?” At his nod, she continued. “We are very normal people who live very normal lives.”
“Only you live them in castles,” he supplied.
“That is enough.” Annie stood. “I am the same Annie Walters you have known for more than two years. Nothing about me is different.”
“I’m still working on realizing that. I have a question though,” he said. “How did you manage the transfer from London to Chicago with your family being who they are, Annie? You couldn’t have told them the truth.”
“I did not lie,” she said, her defenses rising. “I was very unhappy with my parents after my work at the Metropolitan Police was thwarted by them. Thanks to a very kind man who had acted as my mentor when I was going through the process of becoming a special constable, I had an offer to come to Chicago to stay with a family well known to my father. There was some talk of perhaps finding the right man for me to marry, but in general I was allowed to come and experience the social world of the Americas. Simple as that.”
“Simple as that,” Isaiah echoed, “only your father thought he was sending you here to find a wealthy husband, didn’t he? I’ve read about the American women who go hunting a duke or a viscount in order to bring money into their coffers and a title to the bride. Why wouldn’t it go the other way as well?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I am not, and you know it.” He paused. “See, Annie, I’m not the only one who can figure out motives by studying someone. The only thing I cannot figure is why your father would believe you would actually go through with that sort of scheme.”
“It wasn’t a scheme,” she told him. “He wanted me happy, but he also wanted me married. Apparently I’d run off every potential bachelor who’d met with the approval of my extended family in England. I had the choice of branching out to settle for lesser European royalty or coming to America and snagging a wealthy industrialist or copper baron.” She shook her head. “Or some such nonsense.”
“It is nonsense.” Isaiah stood. “But it is brilliant. And I’m glad the plan worked. Now do you intend to finish your breakfast, or were you about to give a speech of some sort?”
Annie looked down at her food and back up at Isaiah. She almost managed a smile. “You can never breathe a word of this to anyone, not even your family. No one else knows.”
“Mr. Pinkerton knows.” A statement, not a question. “He would have to or he’d never have allowed it.”
Annie returned to her seat. “Only he and no one else.”
“Fair enough. I agree.”
“Good.” She reached for the butter on the table in front of her and applied it liberally to her biscuit.
“Just one more thing, Your Grace,” he said.
She gave him a cross look. “It’s Your Ladyship, but in America I’m just Annie. What?”
“Did you really grow up in a castle?”
“A small one,” she admitted.
Isaiah gave her a look. “Is there any such thing as a small castle?”
Annie sighed. “No. Now stop talking about it.”
Miss Hattie stepped out of the kitchen with a broad grin on her face and a coffeepot in her hand. “More coffee, Your Ladyship?”
Oh no. She groaned. “Please,” she said. “Just Annie.”
The housekeeper cackled. “You sure had him going, didn’t you, Annie? Ikey bought it all right up to the castle. I know I ought not to be listening, but I know you were pulling his leg.” She looked over at Isaiah. “She might not be related, but I still say she looks like her.”
When Miss Hattie had returned to the kitchen, Isaiah shook his head. “What just happened? Apparently she missed some of what we were saying.”
“I don’t care what happened, but I am relieved. Can you imagine if she believed it?” Annie whispered. “Now, if you could just forget, that would be absolutely ideal.”
He chuckled. “Not likely, Your Ladyship.”
“Isaiah,” she snapped. “It isn’t funny. Truly, you are insufferable. If you have any care for me at all, I demand you stop.”
“Oh.” He sat back, obviously surprised. “This really bothers you.”
“That is what I have been trying to tell you. Until I came to work for the Pinkertons, no one saw me. They only saw my relation to my family. Here in America, I am judged on what I do, not who I am. Until you’ve missed that, you have no idea how much it means to have it.” She paused. “Please don’t take that away from me.”
It took a minute, but he finally nodded. “Sure. All right.”
She smiled. “Thank you. So should we concentrate on today? Do we tackle the Hancock case or the Phillips case? Or both at once?”
“Actually, I thought we would check and see what the police are saying about the cases. And the deputy marshal, if we can get him to talk. What do you think?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to put our own case together?” Annie asked.
“Normally, yes,” he said. “But we both agree there’s a bias against allowing that the killer has returned. I want to see what they’re saying. If there’s sufficient case for it, then I am inclined to let this go.”
“Let it go?” She paused to take a breath. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you were willing to let two murders go?”
“No,” he said patiently, “I am willing to take what the authorities are saying as truth if their arguments are compelling. If there is a solution to the murders, and that solution does not alarm the citizens of Austin, then I am for it.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “You sound exactly like the rest of them. Sweep it under the rug. Look away because there is nothing to see here. Our city is perfectly safe. That is exactly what you’re saying. Unlike your father who is trying to do something about it. Even if what he is doing might be quite silly, it is action.”
“That is not it at all.”
Or was it? The comparison to his father certainly stung. But beyond that, had he become one of the men he had railed against not so long ago?
Ike took another sip of coffee, not because he wanted it but because it gave him something to do while he thought about what she’d said. He did want these cases to be solved, that was true.
And if they were solved in a way that proved Austin’s citizens could sleep safely at night, all the better. But did that make him biased as to the possible outcomes?
Ike let out a long breath. He had to admit it did.
“You’re right,” he told her.
“I’m sorry, what?” She held her biscuit in midair, her gaze locked with his. “Did you just change your mind based on an argument I presented to you? Did that just happen?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” He almost added Your Ladyship but thought better of it. While she had a point, and he’d certainly keep his agreement not to mention her family connection to anyone else, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still shocked by it.
Out of all the women he might have been attracted to, he had fallen in love with Queen Victoria’s great-granddaughter. Royalty.
And he’d already thought she was the most interesting woman he knew. The most special.
“Isaiah, you’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me strangely.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never seen a woman as tiny as you eat a biscuit that big.”
“They’re called cathead biscuits,” Miss Hattie said as she breezed back in. “I believe it’s because they’re big as a cat’s head. Makes sense that would be it. You two need anything else?”
“Thank you, but no,” Annie said. “And the biscuits are delicious.”
A short while later, Ike hitched up the buggy and they headed over to the police station. The crowd outside was bigger than any he’d seen, and inside, the small space was crammed with citizens and reporters alongside the meager police force.
“This might not have been the best idea,” Annie said. “There are far too many people for us to have any chance of getting information.”
“That’s the beauty of this.” He nodded to the desk where Annie had read the previous police reports a few days ago. “The duty sergeant keeps the records there. I’m sure the others who are working the cases will have their notes, but we can start with him. He likes you. Maybe you could ask.”
Annie wove her way through the crowd with Ike a step behind. They found the sergeant deep in conversation with a man who was likely a reporter.
She stepped in between them and smiled. “I’m so sorry. I’m just here for the records.”
“Records?” the sergeant said.
“From last night. Both scenes.” She turned to the reporter. “Tragic, isn’t it?” Then her attention went back to the sergeant. “I just need them for a few minutes. And your desk if you’re not terribly busy.”
“Well, um…” He scratched his head and seemed to be looking around for someone to confer with.
“They’re all busy,” she said. “That’s why I went directly to you. I don’t want to keep you from your interview, so I’ll just get to it if you don’t mind.”
Ike nodded. “We won’t be long.”
Apparently the ruse worked, for a moment later the sergeant retrieved a thick file from his desk and set it in front of him. Then he rose and stepped aside to continue his conversation with the reporter.
Ike grinned. “And this is why I do not understand the reluctance for anyone to hire a woman. No man could have pulled that off.”
She smiled. “I hope you’re not saying I played on my feminine wiles.”
“Of course not. You read him perfectly and figured out exactly what it would take to get him to hand over the file. That’s not wiles, that’s brains, Annie. And you’ve got plenty. Now let’s see what’s in those files that we might have missed last night.”
His companion grinned. Though she was the prettiest woman in the room and could have easily flirted her way to success, Annie was not the kind to do such a thing. He loved that about her.
Annie opened the first file, the case of the death of Susan Hancock, and turned the page so they both could read it. The information was everything the writer of the report had heard or seen at the scene of the crime.
From the information about Mrs. Hancock being found in her daughter’s bed to the girls coming home late and finding her there, there was nothing new. Physical evidence was minimal and likely ruined by the mess at the scene, both inside and outside of the home.
“That is disappointing,” Annie said.
“It is just the preliminary information. More will come in as the day goes on.” He nodded toward the other file. “Let’s see what it says about Eula Phillips.”
&nb
sp; That file too held the facts of the case as she understood them. Jimmy Phillips’s words to the first officer on the scene seemed to indicate his guilt, but the doctor who had examined him stated the fellow was not in his right mind and could not be counted on to say anything, either in his defense or to his detriment.
“I wonder what he said.” Annie looked over at him. “I don’t see a witness name here, so maybe he spoke to the officer in charge?”
Ike looked up to find a man standing before him with pieces of wood. The bloody smudges on the topmost piece in the pile told him this was unmistakably evidence.
“Excuse me, miss, where’s the desk sergeant?”
Chapter 20
Ike jumped into action and claimed the wood. “And who are you?” he asked.
“Last night out at the Phillips place, I spoke to some fellow who called himself the deputy marshal. He told me to cut out those floorboards and bring them in. The fence post too. He’ll know who I am.” Then he disappeared back into the crowd.
Ike looked over at Annie, who moved the police reports out of the way to make room for the evidence. He spread out the pieces of wood—several floorboards and a piece of the back fence—in front of them.
“What do you see?” he asked Annie.
“Fingerprint on the fence board,” she said. “I spied that last night. It was found very near the body and looks like a thumbprint.” She moved her attention to the floorboards. “That is most definitely a footprint on a section of wood flooring. I wonder what part of the home this was in.”
“That would be Jimmy and Eula’s bedroom floor,” Deputy Marshal White said. “It was found at the end of the bed. Nothing corresponds with it out at the murder site.” He shook his head. “Either of you want to tell me why Pinkerton detectives are sitting at a police sergeant’s desk holding my evidence?”
“Miss Walters and I were going over reports,” Ike told him. “Your informant delivered these just a few minutes ago. You probably passed him as you came in.”
The older man gave a harrumph. “I never saw him, but then, there’s nothing but chaos in here. Out on the streets too. Not a one of them seems to remember it’s Christmas Day. Did you know most of the churches have canceled services? It’s madness.”
The Black Midnight Page 15
