Jeremy sobbed once at this point but then went on in a rush. "But I am not the only one to blame. I can quote the Bible too. You made damn sure of that."
He continued in a singsong voice, "And Christ said, 'let him who is without sin cast the first stone.'" Laughing harshly, Jeremy pointed a finger at his aunt. "I had help in making his life miserable, didn't I? Why do you think he was in such a rush to turn the business over to me? So he could get away from you. Take my mother away from your never-ending complaints, your black moods, your petty jealousies. God, we were a wonderful family to him. A failure for a son and a harpy for a sister. No wonder he couldn't stick it any more. The only joy in his life was Mother, and you tried to poison that too, didn't you? Well, don't try it with me. I'm not your child and I never will be." With that, Jeremy turned and lurched up the stairs.
Chapter Thirty
Wednesday morning, August 15, 1879
Annie shifted back on her haunches and viewed the gleaming flagstones of the kitchen floor with pride. Miss Nancy had announced this morning at breakfast that she wanted all the kitchen and scullery counters, cabinets, and floors washed, and all the wood work on the first floor cleaned and waxed. So, while Annie had been downstairs in the kitchen, scrubbing away, up to her elbows in sudsy water, Wong had been upstairs polishing away, on his hands and knees.
Despite the physical demands of the work, Annie was in an improved state of mind from the day before, helped considerably by the fact that she had had a decent night's sleep. Last night, after helping Mrs. Voss get ready for bed and letting Wong out of the house, Annie was able to retire to her room by 9:30, and she had fallen asleep quickly. Which was surprising, considering all the interesting information she had gathered that day. Not only could she have been kept awake going over Jeremy and his aunt’s fight, but two subsequent incidents should have been enough to disturb her sleep.
First of all there was the mysterious letter to Jeremy. Annie had noticed that in his argument with his aunt that he had overlooked two letters that were waiting for him on the hall table. Oddly they had both been slipped through the mail slot well after the afternoon mail delivery, and, although she had no desire to interact with him in his inebriated and overwrought state, Mrs. Voss had instructed her to make sure he got these letters when he came home. So, as soon as Miss Nancy made her way down to the kitchen, presumably to give Wong his orders for the next day, Annie had crept out of her hiding place in the dining room and snatched up the letters, hoping she could catch Jeremy before he made it all the way to his third floor room. As she mounted the back stairs, she looked at the letters, seeing that one of them was from Malcolm Samuels, which wasn’t that odd. The other letter, however, had no return address. The neat delicate handwriting practically shouted female correspondent, and Annie wasn’t surprised at all when she lifted the envelope to her nose to smell a light scent. When she handed the letters to Jeremy, who had been unsuccessfully trying to turn his door handle, she noted that it was the scented letter that he fixated on. He first stared at the envelope, as if it was a dangerous serpent, and then he snatched it to his lips, and the pain she saw reflected on his tear stained face still haunted Annie the next day.
The second unexpected occurrence that should have kept her awake was the return of Cartier, who for some reason cancelled the rest of her night out. When Annie returned to the kitchen after helping Mrs. Voss get ready for bed, Wong informed her that she had just missed Cartier, who moments earlier had arrived at the kitchen door, asking admittance. Curious, Annie made a detour to the third floor on her way up to bed and knocked on Cartier’s door. She planned on asking the lady’s maid if she needed anything, but it was really an excuse to see if Cartier would explain why she came home early. Cartier never answered her knock, and, as Annie stood listening outside the door, she thought she heard a muffled sob. Finally, Annie trudged up to her own narrow bed in the attic, where her body's fatigue triumphed over the evening's stimulating surprises, and she instantly fell fast asleep.
She had slept through the night dreamlessly, and when she rose at five she had felt much refreshed. In addition, the day's work was less frustrating than the ironing had been, and this improved her mood considerably. Scrubbing was hard physical labor, but it was easy to do it well. Overall, she just felt more optimistic. She was now confident that Cartier would turn out to hold the key to the puzzle of the two murders. As for the other people in household, Matthew’s loved ones, today it was easier to believe that Miss Nancy’s insinuations that Mrs. Voss and Malcolm Samuels were responsible for Matthew’s death were the imaginings of a bitter and jealous woman, and that Jeremy was simply overcome by guilt about disappointing his father, not consumed by guilt over killing him.
And tonight she would be home! Perhaps for good. She had felt so lonely these last three days, hearing nothing from her friends. Not even a glimpse of Patrick on his beat. She had hoped that he might be able to stop by the kitchen on his rounds, maybe be able to tell her how everyone at home was doing. She would be so relieved to get back into her work as Sybil, and she worried a bit about a few of her clients who might unravel if she missed more than one appointment with them. Those she advised on financial matters didn’t worry her, although she might lose their business if she missed too many sessions. It was women like Margery Dunhill, struggling to placate an exacting mother-in-law and worried about her husband’s fidelity, that she regretted most having canceled. But with luck she would be able to meet with her Friday clients and only have missed a week.
She also wondered what Nate was doing, if he had tried to see her. Probably not. After the disastrous carriage ride back from the beach, he most certainly would feel well rid of her. Anyway, she would have to decide tonight how to best convey what she had learned about Cartier to the police, whether to try to go through Nate or perhaps his uncle. But this would require her to explain how she had obtained her knowledge of the household. Maybe it would be safer to tell Patrick and see if he could relay the information without revealing its source. She also needed to decide if she should find another maid to replace her here at the Vosses. Sunday night she had asked Beatrice and Kathleen to be on the look out for a replacement. Annie knew she couldn’t afford to delay Sibyl’s return to work much longer. But would it be right to send some poor girl into the house that might very well contain a murderer? Well, Annie thought to herself, all these questions will be much easier to answer tonight when I’m home, bathed, and completely rested. Meanwhile, just look at how clean the floor is!!
Everyone else in the household, even Cartier who was red-eyed and unusually subdued this morning, seemed to be finding solace in the details of everyday life as well. Perhaps that is why Miss Nancy had herself started a thorough rearrangement of the linen cupboards that had produced a pile of mending for Cartier to do, and Annie had been shocked when the lady’s maid hadn’t objected. Unprecedented! Mrs. Voss spent most of the morning in the front parlor, apparently answering the stack of condolences that piled up in the past week. Stranger still, Jeremy had risen exceptionally early, announcing that he was going to his father's office at the furniture factory. Maybe his aunt’s words about his drinking had finally gotten through to him. Or maybe there was something in the anonymous letter that had improved his disposition! Annie had overheard Mrs. Voss tell Miss Nancy at breakfast how pleased she had been when Jeremy had agreed to meet Samuels at the factory in the morning to go over some of the decisions that had to be made about new orders and the factory production schedule.
In fact everyone had risen early. Wong had arrived a little before five-thirty and had barely gotten the bread in to rise and Cartier's breakfast tray to her, when Jeremy had rung for him to bring him water for shaving and a tray of coffee and biscuits. Jeremy must have slipped out soon after that to go across town to the factory, because at 7:30, when Wong had gone up to Jeremy's room to tell him that Malcolm Samuels had stopped by to accompany him to the office, he had already left. Wong told Annie later that Samuels had
just laughed and made some remark about how forgetful Jeremy could be. He didn't seem terribly put out; in fact he had asked Wong to bring him some coffee, since he had skipped breakfast, figuring he'd have it with Jeremy.
In any event, Samuels had already had his coffee and left the house by the time both Miss Nancy and Mrs. Voss rang for service at eight o'clock. This wasn't early for Matthew's sister, but it was much earlier than Mrs. Voss had gotten up during the time Annie had been working there. Mrs. Voss had begun her correspondence right after breakfast and was still at it when Annie came to her sitting room to announce that lunch was ready.
Lunch was not one of Wong’s better efforts. First of all, neither Annie nor Wong had time to prepare much for the meal. Wong had barely gotten the carpets laid back down in the dining room when it was time to fix lunch, and Annie had been caught in the middle of scrubbing the scullery floor when it was time to serve. She very hastily changed to a clean apron, but she couldn't hide the damp stains at the edge of her skirt and cuffs, and she was sure she smelled strongly of carbolic acid. The food itself was uninspired; the cold cuts were left over from the dinner the night before, the rolls were a bit burnt around the edges, and there was no fresh dessert, so he had brought out one of the neighbor's condolence gifts, a rather sad-looking pudding. Neither Miss Nancy nor Mrs. Voss seemed to care. They were too busy arguing with each other to notice what they were eating.
Well, arguing wasn't perhaps the correct term, Annie thought to herself as she took the dessert dishes down to the kitchen. Miss Nancy had been reproaching her sister-in-law, and Amelia Voss, for once, didn't seem willing to listen patiently. Annie had been able to hear only bits and pieces of the conversation, but what she had heard had been intriguing. As she had entered the room with the first course, she heard Miss Nancy say that she thought that at twenty-three Jeremy was altogether too young to marry.
She'd gone on, ignoring Annie's presence, "I don't believe in a man marrying so young. You and Matthew were pushing him into it." Miss Nancy was dressed in her habitual black, and Annie thought she looked even more cadaver-like, if possible. The older woman shook her finger in the direction of Mrs. Voss, who was sitting quietly across the table from her. Clearly not expecting any answer from Mrs. Voss, the old woman went on in the same accusing voice. "Rushing him to grow up. He's just a boy. Why, Matthew himself was near twice his age before he tied the knot."
Annie almost dropped the plate she was placing on to the center of the table when Mrs. Voss suddenly replied, a distinct note of sarcasm in her soft drawl.
"Well, dear sister, we both know how you feel about Matthew's judgment at that mature age. I've heard for over twenty years about how a man plays the fool when he marries in middle age. I would have thought you would be glad that Jeremy was going to avoid that mistake."
Miss Nancy was so taken aback she had sputtered. Amelia Voss had quite kindly asked her sister-in-law if she'd caught something in her throat, and if she could be of any help dislodging it. It was said with such sweet sincerity that Annie couldn't tell if Matthew's wife was making fun of the older woman or not. Apparently Miss Nancy was unsure as well, because she just sat silently staring at Mrs. Voss, as if she were a garden snake metamorphosed into a viper.
She evidently didn't remain speechless for long, because she was again haranguing Mrs. Voss about Jeremy when Annie came to clear off the main course and bring in the dessert. This time the subject seemed to have shifted from when Jeremy married to whom he should marry.
Miss Nancy was again shaking her finger as she catalogued Judith Langdon's faults. "She's nothing but a scatterbrained girl, and vain. Did you see the jet beads on her earrings at the funeral? I would have been ashamed to be seen flouncing myself around like that when I was her age. Of course, what would you expect from the daughter of that woman? Mrs. Langdon is a professional widow. I know the type. Trade on their misfortune so they don't ever have to do an honest day's work. I say she should be glad she had the comfort of a good man, and she should stop sniveling because she had the bad luck to lose him. Her husband probably died of neglect. Can't imagine she was a very good housekeeper. Too used to the good old days back on the plantation when she was waited on hand and foot by her slaves."
Here Miss Nancy jabbed her spoon into her pudding with a flourish, and Annie envisioned her as a young Yankee soldier, bayoneting a Confederate with equal relish. The older woman then looked up at Mrs. Voss with a sniff and went on. "Young Judith won't be any better, brought up in boarding houses, dens of iniquity every one. No, Judith Langdon is no fit wife for my nephew, and I aim to tell him so. He won't have any trouble getting out of the betrothal. I am quite certain Mrs. Langdon would love to be shut of us--hasn't had the decency to call since Matthew's death. We're clearly not prominent enough a family for her blue blood."
Annie had her back turned to the table as she stacked plates onto the tray that was resting on the sideboard, so she didn't get to see the expression on Mrs. Voss’s face when she replied. But the sense of iron beneath the polite phrases was chilling.
"Dear Sister, I am afraid I must disagree with you. I have found Judith to be a sweet, honest, and refreshingly practical young woman. And as a daughter of the South myself, you can’t expect me to see this as a fault in her mother. Judith sent me a note yesterday afternoon, and she made it perfectly clear that she dearly loves Jeremy, as he loves her. I do hope that you will reconsider your decision to try and turn Jeremy against her. I would hate to see you do anything to estrange yourself further from him. I do know how important he is to you, and I promise you that I will fight you on this, and I will win."
Then, without missing a beat, Mrs. Voss’s voice changed and she continued sweetly, "Now, Lizzie, would you please finish clearing the table and then bring me some tea in the front parlor. I find that I cannot bring myself to try this pudding. Mrs. Walters is a good soul, but I fear she has an inept cook."
Annie had then fled the room so she didn't hear if Miss Nancy had managed a response to the thinly veiled challenge her sister-in-law had thrown down. Later, remembering the unexpected coldness in Amelia Voss's voice, Annie believed, for the first time, that this woman was capable of murder if she thought her son was threatened.
Chapter Thirty-one
Wednesday afternoon, August 15, 1879
Annie knocked on the parlor door, resting one edge of the heavy tray against her hip. It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon, and Mrs. Voss was entertaining a visitor. Although this news had piqued Annie’s interest, most of her attention was focused on not dropping the heavy tray as she opened the door and entered. She had already discovered how daunting a task it was to carry a fully laden tea tray without having the china set up a cacophony of clinks as they shimmied to and fro. Consequently, she carefully kept her eyes on the tray as she crossed over to the tea table, where she began to gently lower the tray to its resting place. All her care was cancelled out by the clamor the cups and saucers emitted when, upon recognizing the visitor's voice, she released the ponderous sliver tray to drop unchecked the last two inches onto the table.
The unexpected noise of clashing crockery caused the visitor to slew around in his seat and stare at her. Time literally slowed, giving Annie ample opportunity to watch the gentleman's first reaction of astonished recognition turn into anger, an expression that was becoming distressingly familiar in connection with this man. How incredibly stupid she had been to think that Nate wouldn't recognize her when she was playing the part of a servant.
Annie never thought so quickly before in her life. While the time it took Nate to recognize and react to her presence in the room seemed interminable, her own mind seemed to be clicking along at a terrific rate. He must not tell Mrs. Voss who she was. She must find a way to speak to him. Convince him not to betray her. How to do it? She must get Mrs. Voss out of the room. No, it might be easier to get Nate out of the room. If only he would cooperate.
Before the sounds emanating from Nate had time to form into
speech, Annie looked past him to Mrs. Voss and said, "I'm sorry ma'am, the tray slipped. I'm afraid I'm terrible clumsy. Please forgive me."
Pausing only for a second to acknowledge Mrs. Voss’s soft protest that it didn't matter, Annie went on, improvising as she went. "Please ma'am, I'm afraid that there's something that requires the gentleman's attention. A boy, he came to the back door, ma'am. Said that he was sent to find a Mr. Dawson. Wong said the gentleman was with you. Said I should fetch him when I brought the tea. I put the boy in the small back parlor. I hope I haven't done wrong, ma'am, seeing that I'm new and don't always know how things are done here."
Annie spilled out this entire speech in a frightened sounding squeak, and she decided that it should be appropriately ended with a tearful sniff.
"Why Lizzie, you have done just fine," responded Mrs. Voss with such kindness that Annie felt a momentary twinge of contrition at her outrageous charade. "Please escort the gentleman to the back parlor and see that he has everything he needs."
Annie curtsied and went to the door to the hallway and opened it, turning back to see if Nate would follow. He rose and mumbled disjointed phrases about how sorry he was, how he hadn't known, how Mrs. Voss must believe that he had no idea. Mrs. Voss stared at him with a mild expression of surprise, and Annie felt sure that he was about to give everything away. If she could just get Nate out of the room, maybe Mrs. Voss wouldn't notice. Just possibly she would assume he had been flustered by her beauty and distraught at having to leave her side. She supposed Mrs. Voss was used to tongue-tied men and would not find Nate's behavior so very remarkable. Annie threw out a sharp sounding "Sir," from her position at the door. This drew Nate's attention back to her, and she captured his gaze. With every ounce of will she could summon, she commanded him with her eyes to follow her, while she retreated slowly out of the room. Dazedly he obeyed, and in what seemed to be an eternity he was safely with her in the hallway with the door to the parlor closed.
Maids of Misfortune: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery Page 22
