Time of Fog and Fire

by Rhys Bowen

  “That was lucky.” Daniel turned to me. “Well done. You wield a nifty crank handle.”

  I grinned. It felt strange and I realized that I hadn’t smiled in a long while.

  “Are you taking me back to the church where you have been staying?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “We’re not allowed to go back until it’s been inspected and we’re told it’s safe. Father O’Brien and the other priests went to Golden Gate Park with everyone else. They’re setting up a makeshift altar and planning to hold masses there and offer comfort—if any can be offered at a time like this. I don’t see how this city can ever recover. How will ordinary people ever get the money to rebuild their homes? And all the public buildings and churches. It’s hopeless.”

  “And if the government is as corrupt as you say it is, then donated money might well go into their pockets rather than to the people who need it.”

  “Quite possibly.” He sighed. “With this chaos I wonder if the officials will ever be prosecuted now. It could not have been better timed, could it? Almost as if they ordered the earthquake.”

  We were now inching our way forward, the auto’s headlights cutting a narrow beam of light through the blackness. We had reached the outskirts of the city. Only the occasional cooking fire burned beside the road. Daniel managed to read a street sign and we turned left. The auto’s headlights shone onto what looked like a forest. And beyond the trees lights were glowing. We came to a meadow and Daniel brought us to a stop.

  “Having seen how keen those guys were to acquire this vehicle, I think I’ll hide it among the trees here,” he said. “And take the crank handle with me.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked. “What are we doing here?”

  “This is Golden Gate Park, where you’ll find most of the city camping out. The army delivered some tents earlier today and more are promised as soon as the trains are running again to bring in supplies.” We bumped and lurched as he steered us between big trees. They had a distinctive strong smell, not unpleasant.

  “Eucalyptus, I believe,” Daniel said. “And plenty of bushes. This should provide us with enough cover. I don’t think there’s any chance that we’ll get a tent, so we may as well sleep beside the vehicle.”

  “I’m awfully hungry,” I said. “I haven’t had a thing to eat all day. And my head is really throbbing again.”

  Daniel nodded, looking at me with concern. “You’ve been doing so splendidly that I almost forgot you had been injured. Of course you should have something to eat. And I wonder if there is a makeshift hospital of any sort to take a look at your head wound.”

  He helped me out of the automobile. I left my bundle, stuffed under the seat, except for my purse, and Daniel took the crank handle with him, just in case he needed to defend us or someone wanted to steal the automobile. I stood uneasily on the soft ground, still feeling the world swaying around me, and realized something else.

  “I need to relieve myself,” I whispered. “Do you think it would be all right to go here among the bushes?”

  Daniel laughed. “I don’t think anyone is concerned about niceties right now. I’ll stand guard for you.”

  I crept between large bushes. I realized then, of course, that I was still wearing my nightdress under my dress, and none of my proper undergarments. But I didn’t dare to remove clothing, just in case we were surprised. I did what I had to and rejoined Daniel. We walked through the trees and brush toward the lights and came out to a meadow, now lined with rows of tents. Several campfires were burning and from one side came an appetizing smell. A long line of people stood patiently, some with dishes or bowls in their hands, while soldiers served something from a big pot. We joined the line, conscious that we had no bowl, no utensils. When we finally reached the front of the line the soldier grinned.

  “You’re in luck,” he said. “We’re about to run out of tin plates. And we’re down to the last of the stew too.” He scraped around with the ladle and then handed us each a tin plate with a small amount of food on it. “I don’t have spoons. Sorry,” he said.

  “It’s all right. We’ve got extra you can have,” a woman behind us said. “Hang on a minute.” She darted over to a tent then came back with two spoons. “Here. Take these. You’ll need them.”

  “But we can’t take your spoons,” I said.

  “We were lucky enough to save some of our possessions,” she said. “And all our family got out safely. I figure this is a time of share and share alike.” She touched my arm. “You’re welcome to join us. We’ve a loaf of bread as well. I’m Martha Hoffman.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan,” Daniel said. “Visiting from New York.”

  “New York? My my. Fancy that. Such a long way from home and your poor wife injured too. Come along. We’re camping over here. We were lucky enough to get a tent. There’s many poor folks sleeping on the grass tonight. Let’s just pray it doesn’t rain.”

  We went to sit with them, a family with four children ranging from a gangly teenage boy to a chubby toddler. Looking at him I couldn’t stop thinking of Liam. I ate mechanically because I knew that I needed to keep my strength up. But it was hard to swallow.

  “You don’t have any children of your own yet?” our benefactor asked.

  “We have a boy,” Daniel said before I could answer. “We got separated from him and we’re still trying to find him. The nursemaid carried him off and then my wife was hit on the head and knocked unconscious.”

  “Deary me. What a terrible thing to have happened.” The woman looked at me with compassion. “We’ll all help you look for him as soon as it gets light. He’ll have to be here or on the Presidio.”

  “Not necessarily, Martha,” her husband said. “There are camps in some of the smaller parks and squares, you know.”

  “Depends how far the fire is going to reach,” Martha said. “People may have started out there and thought they were safe but then found they’d have to move again.”

  “They were bombing houses all along Van Ness,” the husband said. “That should have contained the fire, God willing. I know our house has gone. There was no stopping it in the Mission. Jumping from street to street like a live thing.”

  “So unfair,” Martha said, showing a catch in her voice for the first time. “We were almost untouched in the quake. Nothing really collapsed except for a few dishes off the shelves. And then they came to tell us the whole neighborhood was going to go up in flames and we needed to get out while we could.”

  She looked at her husband, who reached across and touched her hand. “At least we’re all safe and sound. Can’t ask for more than that.”

  “But how will we ever get the money to rebuild?” For the first time I heard desperation in her voice. “They say all the banks burned with everything else. Does that mean the money we’ve saved is gone forever?”

  “Let’s not think about that now,” Mr. Hoffman said. “Let’s give thanks to the Lord for sparing us and eat this food before it gets cold.”

  We ate. The children sat silent, still awed by the tragedy that had befallen them. The little girl was lamenting her lost doll. “She had beautiful real hair,” she told me. “And she was made of china.”

  I nodded with sympathy but couldn’t think of anything encouraging to say. Who knew if the family would ever be able to afford to buy her another one? I leaned close to Daniel. “Can we start spreading the word about Liam tonight? If the whole camp is looking for him, we’ll have a better chance of finding him quickly.”

  Daniel shook his head. “This park is huge, Molly. This may be one small campsite among many. And you may be sure that the Chinese are off on their own somewhere. I know it’s hard but let’s wait until daylight. The nursemaid will be taking good care of him, I’m sure.”

  “I hope so,” I said bleakly.

  Suddenly there was the sound of commotion, raised voices, and, surprisingly, applause. People scrambled to their feet.

  “It’s the mayor,” someone said, and the word was pas
sed from site to site. People began converging on the place where the food was served and a lantern still burned.

  “My fellow San Franciscans,” a voice bellowed through some kind of magnifying device. “I applaud your bravery and fortitude. I want you to know that I am with you, every step of the way. We have suffered a major blow. We have been brought to our knees, but we will rise up again, I promise you. Your homes are in ashes. Our fine new city is all in rubble. But we will rebuild. And do you know what? We will rebuild it better than before.”

  There was a great round of applause and cheers.

  “The new San Francisco will be better than the old one. It will be a marvel that the whole world will come to see. So don’t despair. General Funston, of the United States Army, is having supplies brought in from all over the West. We’ll have enough tents, enough food to see everyone through. We’ve work for every able-bodied man clearing away the rubble, getting the streets and cable cars working again. We’ll get federal loans. We’ll get donations. We’ll get banks to invest in us and before you know it, we’ll start building.”

  He paused. “Are you with me? Will we do this together? Will we show the world that you can’t defeat the great city of San Francisco?”

  From across the meadow and through the trees came a great shout of “Yes!”

  Folks streamed forward to shake the mayor’s hand as he moved through the crowds. Then someone touched his shoulder. “We should be going,” the other man said. “You’ve many more camps to visit tonight, Mr. Mayor.”

  “You’re right,” the mayor said. “I have to spread the word of cheer to all the other camps. So keep smiling, okay?”

  They came toward us. I could see the mayor’s handsome features clearly in the light of that kerosene lamp. He looked strong and confident and I could see why people would believe in him. Beside him the other man came into view. He was still in uniform and I recognized him as Police Chief Dinan. And at his side were several more policemen, including the young lieutenant he had brought to the party. Chief Dinan and the lieutenant went ahead, clearing a way through the crowd, while other policemen followed the mayor. As they disappeared into the trees the mayor caught up with the two policemen ahead of him, clapped a hand on the chief’s shoulder, and made some kind of comment. The chief and the young lieutenant turned back to him and laughed.

  Then they were gone. I turned to say something to Daniel to find him standing with a look of shock on his face.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “That laugh,” he said. “I heard it once before. He was one of the men who threw me over a cliff to my death.”

  Twenty-six

  “The chief of police?” I stared into the darkness where the figures were still retreating. “Are you sure, Daniel?”

  “I wasn’t sure which of them that particular laugh came from,” Daniel said. “Either the chief of police or his young henchman there. But I’m quite sure about the laugh. It was rather distinct, wasn’t it? And when you’re clinging to a bush, halfway down a cliff, and you’re terrified it will give way at any second or that your assailants will spot you hanging there and finish you off with a bullet, you have heightened emotions. You remember every detail. I particularly remembered the laugh because it was so callous. He had just sent two men to their deaths and he had enjoyed it.”

  “Surely police chiefs don’t do their own dirty work. I have met the young lieutenant before and he had that arrogant, self-satisfied look about him. Yes, I could picture him pushing someone over a cliff.”

  Daniel gave me a grim sort of smile at those words, but I touched his arm. “Then you’re still in terrible danger,” I whispered. “If they find out you’re still alive, they’ll want to finish you off as soon as they can. And they have perfect chances right now. They can shoot you when they like and say you were looting. You must stay hidden until we find Liam, Daniel.”

  “I’ll not hide away like a coward when my son is missing,” Daniel said.

  “Don’t be silly. What good would it do Liam if you’re spotted and finished off with a bullet one night?” I put my hands on his shoulders. “I thought I’d lost you once and life didn’t seem worth living without you. I’m not going to risk losing you a second time.” I took his arm. “Come on. Let’s get back to our auto’s hiding place while we can. And we’ll be ready to go after Liam at first light.”

  We made our way back through the trees and found our auto, untouched. I was going to spread my overcoat on the ground for us to lie on, but the fog had rolled in off the ocean, blotting out the stars and coating everything in dampness. So instead we climbed into the auto and wrapped the coat over us. I snuggled up to him, savoring his familiar smell, trying to feel safe when I was now consumed with worry for him as well as Liam. Now that I was no longer active my head started to throb again, and the food I had just eaten—a perfectly passable stew of some sort—sat like a leaden weight on my stomach. I felt desperately thirsty and realized I hadn’t drunk anything for as long as I could remember. Maybe they’d bring in water trucks tomorrow.

  I tried to sleep, but of course I couldn’t. Who could in such circumstances?

  “Are you asleep?” I whispered to Daniel.

  “No.”

  “I can’t sleep either. I can’t stop thinking about Liam. I can’t bear to be lying here doing nothing, wondering if he’s safe or if he’s dead. I can’t bear it, Daniel.”

  He hugged me tighter to him. “I know. I’m feeling the same way. First thing tomorrow, when it’s light, we’ll go looking for him. I promise. We’ll find him, Molly.”

  “But you can’t go anywhere, can you? Those policemen might spot you and then you’d be dead too. And I feel so weak, I don’t know how much I can go running around the city looking for Liam on my own.”

  “I’ll come with you wherever you want to go,” Daniel whispered, his lips brushing my cheek. “I won’t let you go alone, my darling. I’ll take care of you now.”

  “But, Daniel,” I protested. “You just said yourself that the police chief or his lieutenant…”

  “They’ll be too busy trying to keep order in the midst of chaos to notice me.”

  I lay there, snuggled against him, feeling the comforting warmth of his body, and tried to think clearly. I didn’t share his confidence that the man who pushed him down a cliff would not spot him again and would not hesitate to use the current chaos to put a bullet in his back.

  “Is there any way you can go back to your church and find that disguise you wore?” I asked. “You could move around safely in that.”

  “The authorities have condemned the building,” Daniel said. “Nobody is to go inside until there has been a thorough inspection.”

  “I don’t suppose you could slip in without being noticed?”

  “When I left they had soldiers posted on the street outside. I’d likely be shot as a looter.”

  “What are we going to do?” I said. “Somehow we have to get you out of here.”

  “Molly, I have to say that running away leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I was sent here to do a job and I’ve achieved nothing, except for almost getting myself killed, and the poor fool who came to meet me smashed on the rocks at the bottom of a cliff.”

  “So who do you think ordered your death?” I asked. “Do you think that Douglas Hatcher is here in the city and was in cahoots with the chief of police, and maybe paid him to get rid of you? Or do you think that they somehow knew you were asked to look into the federal corruption charge?”

  “I’m not sure how they’d have found that out. I didn’t share that information with the chief of police, since his name was on the list of those to be indicted. But they may have been watching Dennison all the time, using me as bait to get him out into the open.”

  “Who suggested meeting by the cliffs?” I asked.

  “Not me. Dennison did.”

  “Then it’s possible that you were pushed over the cliff just because you were there and they couldn’t let you go f
ree. It was the man you met who they wanted dead.”

  “Yes, that is possible,” Daniel said.

  “So it had nothing to do with Douglas Hatcher.”

  “Probably not. Even in San Francisco I can’t think that an individual could bribe the police to hurl two men over a cliff. Although I suppose it is not beyond the realms of possibility. But we haven’t any proof that Douglas Hatcher is still in town, have we? He could have passed through on his way to God knows where.”

  Silence followed as I went through everything that had happened before the quake.

  “So do you think now that Mr. Douglas really was the man you were looking for?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  Another long silence while I tried to put my thoughts in order. With my aching head and the all-consuming worry about my son I really hadn’t had time to formulate what I had seen at Bella’s house. I pictured Señor Garcia’s body—sightless eyes bulging—lying there stuffed in the trunk. I hesitated. Should I tell Daniel? Or did I not want to inflict more worry on him at this time of overwhelming worry? I decided it might be good to give him something to think about that wasn’t his missing son. God knows I wanted to talk about something else myself.

  “There’s something you don’t know,” I said. “Because you were at the opera with everyone else last night.” My God, I thought as I said the words. Last night. Was it only last night before the world changed forever?

  “You found out something?” he asked.

  “I found a body. At Bella’s house.”

  “Whose body?” I felt the arm around my shoulder tighten its grip.

  “Nobody you’d know. A Mexican man called Señor Garcia. It was all very strange. He arrived during the party you attended. Bella was clearly annoyed or even distressed to see him. He wanted to talk to her but she told him that she couldn’t leave her party guests and he had to come back the next morning.”

  “And did he?”

  “He must have done. I was out but he wore some kind of obnoxious pomade or cologne and the smell of it was definitely lingering when I returned. I thought he had come and gone. But that evening, when everyone else was at the opera listening to Caruso, I started to look for your suitcase. Bella said the police had taken it. The police said they hadn’t. So I wondered if it could possibly be hidden away somewhere. I went down to the basement and I found your suitcase there, but I also noticed that unpleasant smell again and when I opened a trunk, there was Señor Garcia’s body stuffed inside.”