“You’re a devil!” Adelina screamed at me, her green eyes blazing.
Beside her, Reverend Prescott’s expression was one of pure malevolence. In my dazed state, I could have sworn I was looking into the face of the devil himself.
“Stop torturing my daughter!” Adelina shrieked. “She has done nothing wrong.”
Again the room seemed to tilt, and I felt my stomach lurch. I closed my eyes and gulped in deep breaths of air, willing myself to concentrate solely on Margaret’s mother. As if through a fog, I saw my own mother’s lips moving as she stared at me, her face frozen in fear. Beside her, Celia looked equally distressed. I saw Charles rise to his feet and, followed by Samuel, hurry toward the side aisle. Robert, too, was coming toward me. Even Chin was staring at me as if I’d taken leave of my senses.
“You’re right, Mrs. French,” I doggedly persisted. “Your daughter has done nothing wrong. It’s you who is the monster. You murdered four people because you thought it was the only way to—” Dizzily, I pointed more or less in Prescott’s direction “—to keep the love of the man you adore.”
Prescott dropped his grip on Adelina’s arm as if it had suddenly caught fire. “That’s a lie,” he shouted. “There’s not a word of truth to any of this.” He appealed to the judge. “For God’s sake, stop her!”
Robert, his hand on my arm for support, pressed a glass of water to my lips. I swallowed greedily. “Sarah, you’re ill,” he implored. “You must sit down!”
“Almost through,” I told him. “Another minute.”
“Can’t you see this woman is mad?” Adelina cried, her face twisted with hate. “She has no idea what she’s saying.”
“Oh, but I do. You’re the master gardener, Mrs. French—you said yourself Margaret can’t tell a flower from a weed. You learned—you learned all about poisonous plants from your first husband, the chemist. You make potions—and creams. Margaret used one on me when I was hit in—in the face by a rock. It worked—it worked very well.”
Behind me, someone was pounding what sounded like a hammer, causing blinding pain to shoot through my head.
“You poisoned Caroline Godfrey so—so Margaret would be named head of the hospital board—giving you access to fundraising money. Josiah Halsey threatened your scheme, so you killed him. Arlen—Arlen discovered your embezzling and you poisoned his coffee—then hid baneberry in Chin’s cupboard.
“Dora—poor Dora Clemens,” I stumbled on, realizing my words were becoming slurred and disjointed, “saw you poison Arlen. Came to your house—demanded blackmail money. You killed her, too. It was you, not Margaret, Nurse Harbetter saw—saw going in—into the kitchen. You and Margaret—so alike—easy to confuse.”
Oh, lord, I wished whoever was pounding that hammer would stop! There was so much confusion—so much noise. People were on their feet pressing forward, shouting. Flash powder exploded as reporters recorded the scene for tomorrow’s papers. Through a confused haze, I saw Pierce leave his seat, his face grim and white. Then I lost sight of him as I attempted to block out the din, to press on.
“You murdered four people because—because of your obsession with Nicholas Prescott—an evil, corrupt man—who—who uses his—his clerical collar to cheat and steal—to debauch innocent young women.”
“No! No! It’s all lies!” Prescott yelled. “Why doesn’t somebody stop her?” Adelina was reaching for him through her tears. He pushed her away so roughly, she stumbled against the bench and nearly fell to the floor. “I swear Adelina French means nothing to me. I had no part in this.”
An uncomprehending expression crossed Adelina’s lovely face. “Nicholas, this is no time for levity.” Her tone was that of an exasperated but loving parent, admonishing an ill-behaved child. Then her voice rose, growing shrill as she fought to be heard over the courtroom clamor. “You know you love me as much as I love you. You’ve told me so a thousand times. Look at all I’ve done for you.”
“Get away from me, old woman. Why would I ever care for an ancient relic like you?”
Prescott continued to back away from her, forcing those sitting behind him on the bench to hastily vacate their seats. Adelina followed, clutching at him with frantic fingers.
“Nicholas—my darling, you’re distraught,” she screamed. “You can’t mean that. Wait!”
“For God’s sake, shut your mouth!” Grabbing her by the shoulders, he gave her a violent shake. “Listen to me, Adelina. You’ve done nothing for me. Absolutely nothing!”
I watched in fuzzy focus as Adelina’s expression turned to shock, then profound hurt. Fresh tears filled her eyes. “But my darling, I’ve done everything for you. I killed my husband so we could be together. Then, when you told me to take my daughter and move West to avoid suspicion, I did as you asked. I even forgave you for all the years you made me wait before you finally came for me.”
“Damn it all, woman, be still!” he hissed, giving her another shake. By now, Adelina and Prescott were surrounded by reporters. “Don’t say one more word!”
Adelina seemed not to hear him. “You needed money to build a new church, and I found a way to obtain it for you. I stole from the hospital fund, I even sold jewelry that fool Tobias gave me so I’d keep his nasty secret about the sweatshops. I removed the people who would have stopped you from fulfilling your destiny. I did it all for you, my dearest, for your ministry. You’ve been chosen as God’s emissary, Nicholas. No one must be permitted to stand in your way.”
Distantly, I heard Prescott’s continuing protests, the incessant, awful hammering, the cacophony of voices, the press of reporters, the blinding blaze of their flash powder. The room was spinning out of control, capturing me in a dizzying vortex. Then suddenly everything stopped, as the floor flew up and struck me in the face.
Robert was beside me, calling out my name. Then Pierce knelt by my other side. I thought I saw Charles and Samuel’s faces floating disjointedly above me, but they kept fading in and out of my vision.
I tried to suck air into my lungs, but my chest muscles refused to function properly. I’d seen this before, I thought hazily. Someone else had been sick like this—but who?
Then the memory of Dora Clemens’s body, writhing in agony, came crashing back to me. I’d been poisoned! Somehow, Adelina French must have slipped poison into my coffee.
“Poison,” I gasped, fighting to speak.
“What is it, Sarah?” Robert asked, leaning his ear close to my mouth. “What are you trying to tell us?”
“Adelina—poisoned me. It must be—poison must be in her reticule.”
I felt my brother’s fingers pressing against my wrist, then everything went blessedly black.
The room I awoke in was not my own. Two figures sat by my bedside, but several moments passed before I recognized them as my parents. I tried to speak, but my mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton.
“Shh, darling, don’t try to talk,” Mama said, reaching over to kiss my cheek.
“You need to rest, my girl,” Papa told me, his voice strangely tight.
Comforting hands adjusted my covers as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. When next I awoke, I found my mother and Samuel holding vigil by my bed.
“It’s about time, sleepyhead,” my brother joked, looking pleased to see me awake.
“Sarah, darling, how do you feel?” Mama asked.
Again I tried to speak, but no words came out. Seeing me struggle, Mama held a glass of water to my parched lips. Gratefully, I took a small sip, but when I tried to drink more, she took the glass away.
“Charles says you are to have only a few small sips at a time. I’ll let you have more in a few minutes. Now, how is your head?”
I tried lifting up from the pillow and was jolted by a stab of pain. “Where am I?” I managed, sinking back onto my pillow.
“At the new Women and Children’s Hospital, my dear,” Mama answered. “They even gave you a private room.”
“The board members insisted you be brought her
e,” Samuel explained. “They maintain that without you they might have been forced to close the hospital. It turns out that Adelina and her lover boy managed to steal over fifty thousand dollars from the fund. No wonder Lucius Arlen was so concerned about the budget.”
“Where are they?” I managed to croak. “Adelina and Prescott.”
“In jail, I’m happy to say.” He grinned. “You must have broken at least twenty rules of protocol in that courtroom. If you hadn’t fainted dead away, I think Judge Carlton would have tossed you into a cell with those two and thrown away the key.”
“I hardly remember any of it,” I murmured.
Tears sprang into Mama’s eyes. “You were deathly ill, darling. We could have lost you—we almost did lose you. Don’t you ever, ever do that to us again!”
I was overcome by an intense sense of guilt at having caused my family such pain. Looking more closely at my mother, I detected new worry lines around her eyes and mouth. I had done that, I thought. I was responsible for each and every one of those lines.
Undoubtedly guessing what was on my mind, Samuel shook his head at Mama and went back to his story.
“When you collapsed, little sister, Adelina and Prescott made a run for it. The court was in such chaos they probably would have made it, too, if two Chinamen hadn’t bounded out of nowhere to grab hold of them.”
I tried to ask another question, but he held up a hand. “No more questions, Sarah. Just listen. You’re supposed to be saving your voice.”
He sat back in his chair and crossed one perfectly creased trouser leg over the other. “On the judge’s order, one of the bailiffs grabbed Adelina’s reticule, and lo and behold, there was the poison she’d used on you. Turns out it was jimsonweed, the same stuff she’d used on Halsey. Once Charles knew what you’d been given, he started treating you immediately.” Samuel’s handsome face grew solemn. “Even so, it was nip and tuck. You gave us all one hell of a scare, little sister.
I tried to say something, but my eyes had become heavy weights. I don’t remember falling back to sleep, but when I again awoke, it was to find Robert sitting by my bedside. Lily Mankin was also there, placing a cool cloth on my forehead.
I tried to swallow, but couldn’t quite manage enough saliva to do the job. Lily noticed my discomfort and brought a glass of water to my lips.
“Just a bit now,” she cautioned, helping me raise my head.
“I keep falling asleep,” I said hoarsely. “What—what day is it?”
“It’s Thursday afternoon,” Lily told me. “You’ve been sleepin’ the better part of three days. And lookin’ better for it, too.” She smiled, and I saw tears welling in her eyes. “And thank the good Lord for that. The children and me—well, you’re like family, miss. We couldn’t bear to lose you.”
Lily wiped her eyes and gave us a bright smile. “I’ll leave you to talk, then. But I’ll be back soon enough with supper. Real food tonight, mind you. Cook insisted on cookin’ you somethin’ special, you savin’ his life an’ all.”
I looked questioningly at Robert after she left. “Cook?”
“Yes, believe it or not, Chin’s back in the kitchen, as churlish and bossy as ever. The hospital board said that after all he’d been through, the least they could do was offer him his old job. Providing, of course, that he promised not to pocket another penny from his kitchen allowance.”
“How is—Margaret?” I managed.
“No one knows. She’s been in seclusion since her mother and Prescott were arrested. It must be hard for the poor woman. Her world has more or less come crashing down around her head.”
“Yes,” I said hoarsely. My deepest regret was the anguish I’d put poor Margaret through on the stand. It had been a necessary ploy to trick her mother into confessing, yet I doubted she would ever fully forgive me. I couldn’t blame her; given the circumstances, I would probably feel the same deep hurt and sense of betrayal. “And Judge Barlow?”
“Humph. Adelina’s little courtroom announcement made the front page of every newspaper in town, side by side with his mother-in-law’s alleged murders. Of course sweatshops aren’t illegal, but it looks damn bad when a prominent judge turns out to own an entire string of the places. It looks especially bad when one of them burns to the ground and, because of his negligence, kills five people in the process.”
“Has Adelina—” I was forced to stop for another sip of water. “Has she admitted killing Caroline and Halsey, then?”
“She isn’t admitting anything. Ever since her incarceration, she’s been blaming her late lamented love for everything. She says Prescott put her under some sort of diabolical spell.” Robert chuckled. “A little late, I’d say, but probably the best she could come up with after all the mouth-wagging she subjected us to in court. I’m guessing that will be her defense.” He grunted derisively. “As Shakespeare so aptly put it: ‘There is nothing more dangerous than a woman scorned.’”
“Do you think the jury will buy it?”
“I try never to second-guess a jury, but there’s a lot of evidence against her. To begin with, the police found a box of nitroglycerine pills in her bedroom. The theory is that she ground up some of these tablets and dropped them into Caroline’s soup the night of the charity dinner. You said the soup course had already been served when you entered the dining room. Well, Adelina must have gotten there first and carried out the dirty deed before there were any witnesses. Her pills, together with the nitroglycerine Charles administered during her attack, were more than enough to provide a fatal dose.”
“And Halsey?”
“So far they’ve found nothing to connect Adelina to his murder except a damn good motive—the fact that he was trying his best to close down the source of her ill-gotten gains. And, of course, there’s the jimsonweed they found in her reticule. They’re searching for anyone who might have seen Halsey and her together that Sunday. My guess is, Adelina somehow convinced Halsey to meet with her, then managed to slip the poison into his coffee. Just as she did into yours.”
I lay for several minutes thinking about how close I had come to dying. I, who prided myself on being such a shrewd judge of character, had been taken in by a sweet face and grandmotherly manner.
“I should have seen it sooner,” I said, feeling terrible that my blindness might have resulted in two unnecessary deaths. “Lucius Arlen and Dora Clemens might still be alive if I’d put it together sooner. The day Margaret showed me Adelina’s garden and told me how knowledgeable she was with herbs and plants, I should have seen a connection. But Mrs. French seemed so gentle and loving, it never occurred to me she might be a vicious killer.”
“Don’t start, Sarah. You figured it out sooner than anyone else, including San Francisco’s finest.”
“You know, if Adelina hadn’t mentioned jimsonweed while we drank our coffee the last day of the trial, I’m not sure I ever would have suspected her. Remember, Robert, the police deliberately withheld the name of the poison that killed Halsey.”
“That’s right, I’d forgotten! We knew because Charles was privy to Halsey’s autopsy report. But there was no way Mrs. French could have named that poison unless she’d given it to him herself.”
“It struck me as strange that the morning after we toured the hospital, Adelina suffered an arthritic attack—a spell that just happened to prevent Margaret from visiting Arlen at his rooms. But at the time I thought it was just a coincidence.”
Robert’s mouth twisted into an ironic smile. “Adelina must have been madder than hell when she realized she’d misjudged the amount of poison she’d given Arlen. That must have been a hard day and a half for her while he lingered on. She certainly didn’t make the same mistake with poor Dora. Or with you.”
“No, she didn’t,” I said, flooded by memories of the poor maid’s death and how close I had come to sharing the same fate. “Thank God she’s finally behind bars.”
“I agree.” His eyes grew serious. “But I’ve a bone to pick with you, Sarah Woolson.
If you ever expect me to join you in another courtroom, I want your solemn word you’ll warn me—in advance—what bombshells you plan to pull out of that overimaginative mind of yours.”
“I’m sorry, Robert, but there wasn’t time—”
“Then you make time, Sarah. You take me aside and tell me what the hell you’re up to.”
“Even when I’ve just been poisoned and—”
“Here we go,” Lily interrupted, coming into my room bearing a covered tray. By now, the widow had grown so large with child she was forced to hold her burden straight out in front of her. Chin bustled in closely behind her carrying another tray, which he set in front of Robert.
“You eat, too,” he told the Scot, as Lily delivered my own tray to the bed.
“Oh my!” Lily exclaimed as Robert and I lifted the lids off our plates. Turning a little green, she clapped a hand to her mouth and ran quickly from the room.
I didn’t blame her. Curled around the circumference of my plate was a shiny black creature that looked for all the world like a snake. Inside the circle this created were white rice and several other strange-looking globs of food I couldn’t identify. Robert’s plate was similarly arranged.
Chin beamed at our startled expressions. “You not get food like this before, I say. Fresh eel, just kill myself.” He pointed to a pile of deeply browned morsels. “Deep fry grasshopper. Very good.” Finally, he pointed to an unappetizing mass of something I couldn’t begin to describe. “Fungus,” he told us with a broad grin. “Chinese call it cloud ears. And this bean curd. It sit on bed of seaweed. You try, you like.”
He stood there watching us, pride written all over his usually ill-tempered face. Robert and I looked at each other, not quite sure what to do. Not wishing to hurt his feelings, I tried a bit of white rice and found it had been steamed to perfection.
I will be forever grateful that Chin’s duties called him back to the kitchen before I was forced to sample anything else on my plate. In fact, he was hardly out of sight before Robert scooped the contents of both plates into one of my empty pillowcases and threw it under the bed.
The Russian Hill Murders Page 24
