Uneasy Spirits: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery

by M. Louisa Locke

  Annie had been very pleased. A brisk walk was precisely what she needed. Today had been a difficult one for Madam Sibyl. Not only had she seen seven of her regular Tuesday clients, but two others who had canceled last week had asked her to fit them in today at lunch time. Since they were two of her favorite clients, Annie had obliged. This had meant she had skipped lunch and had only time for a hasty dinner on a tray in Sibyl’s parlor, so that she wouldn’t have to take off the wig before the first evening client came.

  In addition, the time she had been spending investigating the Framptons had been cutting into her ability to get through all the local and national newspapers, which is where she garnered most of her financial information. Thank goodness her clients themselves provided a good deal of expert opinion on San Francisco business trends, so that she had been able to do an adequate job. In her opinion, however, adequate wasn’t good enough. She found herself resenting the time it took to cast horoscopes for those clients who insisted her advice be presented in this form. Faking the use of palmistry was easier, but still increasingly distasteful. She just didn’t know what to do, since she had no reason to expect that most of her clients would stay with her if she suddenly forswore Madam Sibyl.

  “How are your students progressing,” Annie asked, trying to distract herself from that gloomy thought. The warmth of the sunny day had begun to drain away with the setting of the sun, and they had decided to head down Taylor to Turk, then west to Leavenworth, and back up to O’Farrell, an easy ten-block circuit.

  “They are quite excited because we are having a contest for the best poem written on the theme of All Hallow’s Eve. We have been studying Robert Burns’ poem, do you know it?”

  “My, that brings back my days at the academy,” said Annie, who began to disclaim in her best Scottish brogue, “‘Amang the bonie winding banks, where Doon rins, wimplin, clear; where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks, an’ shook his Carrick spear; some merry, friendly, country-folks together did convene, to burn their nits, an’ pou their stocks, an’ haud their Hallowe’en fu’ blythe that night.’”

  “That was splendidly done, Mrs. Fuller,” exclaimed Barbara.

  Annie laughed. “I guess I’ve always had a theatrical streak. The drama club was my favorite extracurricular activity in school. But, please, I asked you to call me Annie.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” replied Jamie’s mother softly, “there is such formality among the teachers at Girls High that I have quite gotten out of the habit of using someone’s given name. Of course, I would be so pleased if you would call me . . . Barbara.”

  Annie, struck by the way Barbara had paused before giving her first name, wondered if this had any significance. Since she and Jamie’s mother were both widowed, of a similar age, and both working to support themselves, there should be a natural affinity between them, but Annie really knew very little about Barbara Hewitt’s past. She never spoke about where she grew up, if she had any living relatives, or where she had taught before coming to San Francisco.

  She certainly never mentioned her marriage, or what had happened to her husband. This reticence was so familiar to Annie that she couldn’t help speculating that the deceased Mr. Hewitt, like her own husband, hadn’t been the best of helpmeets. A distressing incident with a neighbor last month had finally forced Jamie’s mother to reach out to Annie. Since then, Annie had welcomed any opportunity, like the offer tonight, to become better acquainted.

  They had just turned into Turk Street, which was lined with a variety of small businesses, when Jamie ran up to them and said with excitement, “Mother, look at that pile of pumpkins! Can we buy one? Mr. Chapman said he would help me carve a jack-o’-lantern for Halloween. Mrs. O’Rourke said there’s going to be a party!”

  Barbara looked a question at Annie, who said, “I think that is an excellent idea. In fact, get two smaller ones as well; we can put them on the front porch for decoration. I forgot that the two of you weren’t here last year when we had our first ever All Hallow’s Eve party at the boarding house. Mrs. O’Rourke invited a number of her young relatives, and Kathleen’s brothers all came, in addition to a couple of her friends. And of course the boarders were welcome.”

  Annie realized that she had been so preoccupied with her investigation of the Framptons she had neglected to discuss the upcoming festivities with Beatrice, and she was glad to hear that plans were moving forward anyway. When she was young, she had been fascinated by the ranch hands’ celebration of the Day of the Dead. And the girls at the female academy she had attended in New York had duly memorized Burns’ poem and giggled about the ghosts who rose from their graves on the last night of October.

  But it wasn’t until last year’s party that she realized how many of the rituals associated with that night came from Ireland. No wonder Beatrice had been so pleased when she dropped off the walnuts they had bought at Hapgood’s yesterday. Annie’s mouth began to water when she thought of some of the tasty treats Beatrice had produced last year. She would have to think about whether she would still go to the séance on Friday since it would interfere with the party and Kathleen would be too busy to come with her that night. Perhaps, if she asked Nate to accompany her in Kathleen’s place, he would be less likely to object to her making one last attempt to conclude her investigation.

  Annie noticed that Barbara was taking money from her purse to pay for the pumpkins Jamie had picked out, and she moved forward, saying, “Let me at least pay for the two smaller ones. Jamie, can you manage Dandy and carry this very impressive specimen you have chosen? We still have several blocks to go.” The boy had picked out a plump pumpkin, twice the size of his own head, and Dandy was twisting around his ankles, threatening to up-end him.

  After making her contribution to the purchases, Barbara took the large pumpkin from her son and asked Annie if she would mind taking Dandy for the rest of the walk while Jamie carried the two smaller, future jack-o’-lanterns.

  Taking the leash, Annie said, “I would be delighted. Dandy always makes me feel quite the lady when I walk with him.” The small black and white dog cocked his head and looked up at her, as if he understood every word, and then trotted smartly beside her as they continued on Turk towards Leavenworth.

  This early in the evening, all the shops were still open. There was a good deal of foot traffic and delivery carts, whose ends jutted over the wooden sidewalk while their goods were off-loaded. As a result, their conversation halted as Annie carefully monitored Dandy, impressed by the way the diminutive dog wove neatly around every obstacle, his white front feet flashing in the light from the gas lamps. When they were almost to Leavenworth, Jamie again ran back to his mother, asking her if they could step into a used clothing shop.

  “I thought if I could use some of my spending money I’d get an old hat to put on my pumpkin. Mr. Jack would look more true-to-life and scary and all,” he said, pointing at the stack of hats piled up on a cart outside the store.

  Annie smiled at his enthusiasm. When his mother agreed to his request, she said to her, “Barbara, you go ahead with him. Put that big old pumpkin down, and Dandy and I will guard it with our lives while you help him pick out a suitable hat.”

  Dandy seemed very interested in the large pumpkin that was now at her feet, snuffling lustily at it with his squashed-in nose. Annie had a sudden vision of him deciding to anoint it, so she bent over and scooped him up. He delightedly started licking her face.

  “Oh, Dandy, that is quite enough. You are no gentleman, to give a lady such kisses on the public street,” Annie scolded and tried to hold him away from her. Although he didn’t weigh more than ten or twelve pounds, she feared his excited wiggling could cause her to drop him, so she bent over and placed him on the ground again, tightening her hold on the leash and hoping he had lost interest in the pumpkin.

  He sat down and looked up at her, as if to say, now what game are we to play? Then, without warning, he began to bark frantically and pull her down the sidewalk. Despite his bantam size, she
had no choice but to follow him because it was either that or jerk the poor fellow off his feet. After about a yard or so, she dug in her heels and successfully stopped him by scooping him back into her arms. Then a noise like rolling claps of thunder caused her to whip around, just in time to see the large wooden barrels piled high on a cart tumble down, crashing onto the sidewalk where she had just been standing. Crushing the pumpkin to smithereens.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Wednesday afternoon, October 29, 1879

  “It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.”

  — Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland, 1865

  “When Mrs. O’Rourke told Mrs. Stein about the barrels, she was very upset. Mrs. O’Rourke said Mrs. Stein felt quite strongly there was more to what happened than meets the eye. Mrs. O’Rourke said . . .”

  “Kathleen, I have heard quite enough about what Mrs. O’Rourke said for one day. I would really prefer if you would change the subject,” snapped Annie.

  Not surprisingly, the accident with the barrels had been the sole topic of conversation in the kitchen ever since last evening when they got back and Jamie had excitedly told Beatrice and Kathleen all about the unfortunate demise of the pumpkin and how Dandy had saved Annie from a similar fate. On the walk home, Annie and his mother had encouraged Jamie to view the incident as just one more example of Dandy’s extraordinary powers, right up there with rat-catching. However, the worried frown and warm hug Barbara had given her, before ushering her excited offspring upstairs to bed, gave a hint of the seriousness with which she really viewed the incident.

  Beatrice and Kathleen, also having refrained from expressing anything but loud praises for Dandy’s prowess while Jamie was still in the kitchen, swiftly bombarded Annie with a series of questions as soon as he was upstairs and out of earshot. She felt like the questions and speculations about the event had never stopped since then. As a result, when Kathleen had brought the topic up as soon as they boarded the horse car, she had finally had enough.

  Seeing the stricken look in Kathleen’s eyes, Annie regretted her ill-tempered words. Patting one of the young servant’s hands, she said, “I am sorry, that was uncalled for. I just hoped for a moment of quiet reflection while we were on the way to the Framptons. This may be the last chance I will get to meet with Evie May alone in the cabinet, and I need to decide how to approach her.”

  Kathleen smiled tentatively and then reached up and made the motion of twisting a key in a lock in the center of her mouth. This made Annie laugh and loosened the knot of tension that had been in her chest ever since she had stared down at the destruction several tons of beer barrels could do when they crashed from a height. Only one of the barrels had actually split apart, a testament to the cooper who made the rest. Even so, fifty gallons of beer mingled with pulped pumpkin and broken staves made an unholy mess.

  Thank heavens she and Dandy had been standing at a slight incline from the accident, so the other barrels had rolled away from them, three of them fetching up against the side of the building next door to the saloon where they were being delivered. One errant barrel rolled on down the sidewalk, slowly gathering speed, while several men worked to stop its momentum.

  Annie was not sure she would ever get the image of that ponderously turning barrel out of her head, or that of the squashed pumpkin. Jamie and his mother had still been standing outside the store when the rumble of cascading barrels had arrested their attention, and they had run over to Annie almost instantly. Fortunately, between calming Dandy, who was trembling in her arms, keeping Jamie from running through the mess to join in the exciting sport of stopping a runaway barrel, and assuring Barbara that she was indeed fine, Annie hadn’t had time to take in how close to death, or at least a severe injury, she had come. Then, as an excited crowd began to gather, rather like ones that showed up at the scene of a carriage accident, Annie and Barbara concentrated on herding Jamie around the corner and up Leavenworth towards home as quickly as they could.

  Only after Jamie and his mother had left the kitchen and she had a second to assimilate Jamie’s claim that he had seen a man run away from the back of the cart, did the full implication hit her. Her near death may not have been an accident.

  The shock of this idea must have shown on her face, because Beatrice, who had been urging Annie to tell them “the real story,” pulled her across the kitchen and pressed her into the rocking chair while directing Kathleen to pour her mistress a strong a cup of tea, well-sugared. “Now dearie, you just sit and get warm. Feel those hands, cold as ice. It’s the shock you know. It was the same with me in ‘56’ when my Peter came in all bloodied during the vigilante riots,” she’d said, chafing Annie’s hands.

  As Annie had sipped at the hot tea, listening to Beatrice and Kathleen speculate about how the barrels could have gotten loose, she thought about the man Jamie saw running away. The cart had been the typical two-wheeled brewer’s dray with slatted sides and an open back, where the barrels could be easily rolled down the ramp that would be formed when the cart was tipped. Whether by accident or on purpose, the ropes holding the stacked barrels in place must have given way. Yet, that alone shouldn’t have caused all the barrels to come crashing down. The cart itself must have been tipped up, or the barrels pushed as they sprung free, or both simultaneously.

  The Framptons’ butler and his powerful shoulders had suddenly popped into Annie’s mind. As did the two threatening notes, the push off the horse car, and Arabella’s overheard statement that if Simon didn’t discourage Annie from continuing to come to the séances, she would.

  Unfortunately, about the same time, Kathleen had come to a similar conclusion, and she had blurted out, “Oh, ma’am, what if it weren’t an accident? What if the person who wrote that terrible note you found in your pocket Monday last was behind it? The note said you were to stay away, and you haven’t, have you?”

  That had put the fat in the fire. Beatrice shook a spoon at Annie while begging her to promise she wouldn’t “go near those dreadful people again.” Kathleen had suggested they ought to send for the police, in the form of her beau, Patrick McGee, “this instant.” At least the effort it took to calm these two worried women had diverted Annie from her own fears.

  However, once she had repeated her assurances that she wouldn’t do anything rash and that she would take their concerns under advisement, she was forced to flee to the sanctuary of her bedroom and a sleepless night. This morning she’d delayed leaving her room until it was time to meet with her first client as Madam Sibyl, thereby avoiding any further argument with Beatrice. With Mrs. Stein now in the picture, Annie did not look forward to this evening. No wonder she had been short with Kathleen.

  The one bright spot had been a note she had gotten from Nate canceling his plans to visit the boarding house this evening because of an emergency meeting with a client. This gave her some breathing room before he found out about the barrels. Thinking of the discussion she’d had with Mrs. Stein about Nate’s feelings towards her and her ambivalence about her own feelings, Annie worried at a niggling kernel of guilt. She hadn’t told Nate about the second note and the push off of the horse car.

  She hadn’t told anyone, convincing herself that both notes and the push were simply the act of a jealous Arabella, therefore, she wasn’t really in any danger. Last evening’s events suggested otherwise, and she knew Nate would be angry that she was going ahead with her plan to visit Evie May one more time. And could Annie blame him? Wouldn’t she be upset if he did something she thought threatened his safety?

  “Ma’am, we’re at Harrison, we need to get off.” Kathleen had gently touched her arm to get her attention.

  Annie took a deep breath, shaking her thoughts free of this conundrum, and got up, leading the way to the front of the car.

  “Thanks, Kathleen. Now, when we get there, can you please see that Mrs. Nickerson gets this letter from me? Obviously, it would be best if you can hand it over to her in person. If not, could you slip down to see
Biddy and ask her if she would deliver it?”

  Annie handed over the letter she had written asking Evie May’s mother if she would join her, with her daughter, for tea tomorrow morning at Woodward’s Gardens. Flora Hunt had written her yesterday, asking if she could arrange this meeting and suggesting the venue because it would provide more opportunities for Flora to take Evie May aside to speak with her. Meanwhile, Annie could entertain Mrs. Nickerson and possibly learn more about Evie May’s childhood.

  “Should I make sure no one else is around when I give the letter to Mrs. Nickerson?” Kathleen asked.

  “Good question. Yes, we can’t trust anyone else in the house but Biddy. I am hoping that Mrs. Nickerson will keep the contents of the letter to herself. If you are able to give the letter to her directly, you could tell her you would be glad to convey her answer to me.”

  Standing at the Framptons’ front door, Annie reflected that it had been two weeks since her first visit. She knew she couldn’t pursue this investigation much longer. If the details Nate and she had learned on Sunday about how the séance effects were handled weren’t enough to persuade Miss Pinehurst’s sister that the Framptons were frauds, she wasn’t sure there was anything else she could do for Sukie Vetch. If Annie were successful in getting Flora Hunt and the Nickersons together, she would have done all she could for Evie May, too.

  She would ask Nate to accompany her to the séance this Friday and promise to send Simon a note telling him she would no longer be availing herself of Arabella’s or Evie May’s services. That should allay Nate’s concerns and end any possible threat against her from Arabella.