Annie grabbed his hand and drew him down the hallway towards a small sitting room tucked back at the end of the hall. Nate regained his wits half way down the hall and stood stock-still. He snatched his hand from Annie's grasp and said, "Mrs. Fuller, Annie, what in the hell are you doing here? Mrs. Voss clearly thinks you are some sort of servant. Damnation, what possible explanation could you have for this ….”
Nate stopped and stammered, "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean ….” Then he uttered another oath under his breath and continued, "No, I take that back, I won't apologize for swearing. Why should I care about your ladylike sensibilities? You never behave like one. This time you have gone too far. I will not condone …."
Annie ignored him and grabbed his arm, this time at the elbow, and tugged, all the while whispering urgently, trying to strike on the right phrases to convince him of the need for secrecy. "Please, Mr. Dawson, just come with me. We can't talk here, not in the hallway. I will explain everything, but do come where we can be private. You don't want to disturb Mrs. Voss. She wouldn't understand why you were struggling with her servant! It would cause a scene that would distress her; you don't want to do that, do you?"
This last argument achieved the desired effect, and Nate permitted himself to be hustled into the small dark room. Annie shut the door firmly behind her, resting her back against it momentarily as if to gain some strength from its solid presence. She saw only the barest outline of Nate, but she could hear him breathing softly. She felt her way to the curtains, opening them to let in the afternoon sun. The room was chill, so she then went to the fireplace and lit the small bundle of firewood she had laid down just this morning after dusting. While performing these simple actions she could feel Nate's glare boring into her back. Alerted by his swift intake of breath that he was about to launch into speech again, Annie swung around and forestalled him by beginning to speak herself. She tried to keep her voice light, as if they were merely in the middle of a mild disagreement.
"Now, Mr. Dawson, you mustn't get in such an uproar. I'm just trying to help out. It was you, yourself, who gave me the idea of helping Mrs. Voss with her servant problem. They really were struggling when I got here. You wouldn't believe how worthless Cartier, her personal maid, has been. Now Wong, Mr. Voss’s manservant, has been wonderful. But in a house this size, you can't expect one servant to do all the work. So you see, it is quite fortunate that I could help out."
Throughout this speech, Nate stared at her as if she was demented, but when she paused for breath he snorted in what Annie felt was a very unbecoming manner. She really expected that he would say something at this point, but when he persisted in just staring at her, Annie continued nervously.
"Now, I know that what I have done might appear slightly unorthodox. But it seemed to me that, while helping out, I could also find out what I needed to know to track down Matthew's money and his murderer. And I couldn't very well do that if I showed up as Annie Fuller, a complete stranger. At the start it didn't seem to be working out very well. You have no idea how hard being a servant can be, and at first I didn't seem to be learning very much. After Nellie was killed, I just couldn’t give up, and I have begun to discover a good deal. For example, Mrs. Voss seems frightened, although I don’t think she is as fragile as she appears. I think she may be worried that Jeremy was involved with his father’s death. And, you wouldn’t believe what an amazing artist Jeremy turns out to be; it really is a shame that his father failed to appreciate his talent. Then there is Miss Nancy! She took some company ledgers out of a hidden shelf in Matthew’s study in the dead of night, and she has practically accused Mrs. Voss and Samuels of having something to do with Matthew’s death, but I think she is just jealous. Wait until I tell you about the lady’s maid, Cartier. She has some sort of secret relationship with a man, and she keeps her door locked, and last night I heard her crying. Did you know the police were here yesterday, and I think….”
By this last sentence, Annie had begun to falter. She found Nate's icy stare unnerving, and she couldn't help feel that she wasn’t doing a very good job of justifying herself. If he was going to shout at her, she wished he would get on with it.
Annie stared back at him, lifting her chin a bit. It really wasn't any of his business what I do, she said to herself. Of course, to be fair, the Voss family welfare is his business. But it is hurtful of him to think that I would purposely injure any of them in any way. For a moment the vision of Nellie's lifeless body flashed in front of her, but Annie pushed it away, telling herself she was doing this for Nellie as well.
It was Nate who finally ended the impasse. Shaking his head slowly, he said, in a tone of amused disbelief, “Annie, Mrs. Fuller, you are impossible! I just don’t understand you. When I think how I bent over backwards to keep your name from Chief Detective Jackson, trying to protect your reputation. And Uncle Frank rang such a peal over me for taking you to see Nellie. If he could only have seen that performance; he certainly wouldn’t have recognized Edward Stewart's respectable daughter. Oh, lord! Wherever did you get that atrocious accent? For a minute, I really thought you were some dim-witted scullery maid!"
Annie focused on the only point that seemed of importance in Nate’s speech, saying quickly, “So you have spoken with the police? And you didn’t tell them about me? Oh, I appreciate that so much. Did the Detective tell you about coming here and asking everyone where they had been on Sunday? Thank goodness they didn’t have any interest in me, since I hadn’t been in the house when Nellie worked here.”
“No, they didn’t tell me,” Nate replied. “In fact, that Jackson is a sly one. Interviewed me on Monday afternoon. Dashed unpleasant. Treated me like a suspect, then practically told me to go out to play and stop meddling in police affairs. Made me promise that I wouldn’t inform anyone, including the Voss family, about Nellie’s death until after the inquest, which was this morning. Implied that he wouldn’t be interviewing anyone until after there was a determination made on how Miss Flannigan died. Appears that as soon as I left the station he hot footed it over here and questioned them. I should have been here as their counsel. I didn’t even find out they had been questioned until I got a note from Mrs. Voss this morning. Makes me look incompetent.”
"That’s awful,” Annie said. “Although, I must tell you they didn’t learn very much. Nobody seems to have had a very good alibi, and Jeremy wasn’t even here to be interviewed. They didn’t really think you were involved did they? What happened at the inquest?”
“As usual with these things, there wasn’t much detail. A waitress from the Cliff House told about Nellie saying she was meeting someone at noon on the beach. The fishermen described finding the body. I was simply asked to confirm their testimony. The coroner reported that she had drowned, but there was a contusion on the back of her head. There was some inconclusive discussion about whether or not this could have been done before she drowned or afterwards. The finding was death by misadventure, which can mean she died of an accident, suicide, or murder. Pretty standard when there is a suspicious death.”
“Oh Nate! I can’t believe they won’t accept that she was murdered.”
“What they think and what they can prove are two different matters.” Nate replied. “To tell you the truth, I think they do believe her death is connected with Voss’s death. However, my primary responsibility is to ensure that the Voss family isn’t adversely affected by any of this.”
Relieved that his anger seemed mainly directed at Jackson, Annie moved towards Nate, saying, “Oh, of course that is your concern; I am so glad you aren't too angry with me. You do understand what I have been doing here?" she asked hopefully.
Nate put up a hand as if to stop her physically from coming any closer and replied, "I am sorry if I mislead you, because, quite frankly, I’m furious with you. I think what you have done was at the very least misguided, and probably unlawful, and very possibly dangerous. What most disturbs me is your willingness to deceive a respectable and good woman like Mrs. Voss; that
seems unconscionable to me."
Annie, taken aback by his change in tone, stood mute for a moment. As she opened her mouth to respond, he cut her off brusquely,
"No, Annie, don't say a word. You asked for my opinion, and for once you are going to keep still and listen to it. I am angry with you, but I do understand in part why you have done what you have. And, for now, I will not divulge your identity."
"But..."
Nate continued to disregard her attempts to speak. "Please, Annie, it is important that you understand why I have made this decision. First of all, I think that the knowledge of how she and her family have been taken in by you would be very distressing to Mrs. Voss, as you yourself so perceptively and, I might add, reprehensibly pointed out to me a few minutes ago in your attempt to blackmail me into silence. Secondly, I have no desire to damage your good name or embarrass you, although I'm not sure that the experience wouldn't be salutary. I realize your behavior was not motivated by any malice, but by a misdirected attempt to get at the truth. But I will keep your secret only on the condition that you remove yourself from this untenable situation as quickly as possible. Mrs. Voss ...."
The mention of Mrs. Voss suddenly recalled Annie to her circumstances and surroundings. Her heart beating, Annie interrupted Nate to ask the time, since there was no clock in the room. She had left her small pocket watch at home, judging that this would be a luxury few domestics could afford.
Perplexed by the question, Nate drew out his watch. "It's quarter to three. Oh, my God," he gasped. "How long have we been in here? What must Mrs. Voss be thinking?"
"Look," Annie said hurriedly. "It will be all right. As soon as I have gone down the back stairs, you go back to Mrs. Voss. Let's hope that she hasn't been ringing for me. Tell her that you had to send a written message, and I had to get you some writing materials. That will explain the delay. Tonight is my night off. I should be home by seven. Meet me there and I will tell you more about Cartier and everything else I have learned. And don’t worry, I have already decided not to return tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about distressing Mrs. Voss further, although I don’t think she will thank you for the loss of her housemaid. But now I must go."
Chapter Thirty-two
Wednesday evening, August 15, 1879
The rest of the afternoon passed by uneventfully. Annie assumed that Nate had been able to explain his absence satisfactorily to Mrs. Voss, and she found herself going over the brief conversation, trying to remember just how he had looked and what he had said. She couldn’t help but chuckle when she thought of how dumbstruck he had seemed when he first saw her as Lizzie. He may have been angry, but he had seemed to find some amusement in the situation as well. This thought then led to memories of how he had teased her during the picnic lunch near Cliff House, and, before she knew it, the rest of her cleaning chores were done. By five o’clock Wong had dinner preparations well in hand, and Annie was washing lettuce while he went upstairs to lay out clothes for Jeremy, on the off-chance he actually made it home for dinner on time. Annie had just finished drying the leaves when she heard the front doorbell peal impatiently. She thought she ought to go up to answer it in case Wong hadn’t heard it on the third floor. As a result, she was just coming through the green baize doorway at the rear of the house when the policemen began to stream in through the front door.
At first impression, Annie thought there must be at least fifty of them, but later she figured out that there were only six, in addition to the Chief Detective and his Sergeant. Wong stood pressed back against the wall where one of the policemen had shoved him in passing, while the Chief Detective instructed him to get his mistress. Without looking to see if he was being obeyed, he marched into the front parlor and closed the door behind him. Meanwhile, the rest of the police spread throughout the house, accompanied by muffled bangs and shouts. Wong threw Annie an agonized look and then proceeded upstairs, so rattled that he neglected to take the servant's stairs. Mrs. Voss, who was hurrying down, followed closely by Miss Nancy, met him halfway.
Her fear palpable, Mrs. Voss stopped next to Wong and took him by the hands, crying out, "Whatever's happened? What are the police doing here? Do they know who killed Matthew?"
Wong answered, his voice shaking ever so slightly, "Please, Mrs. Voss. It's that Detective, Mr. Jackson. He came to the door with a paper that said he had the right to search the house. I tried to stop him, but they all came in at once. I'm sorry, but he is in the front parlor. He wishes to speak to you. Please, Mrs. Voss, let me send for Master Jeremy. I will go telegraph both the factory and his club and be back before they even know I'm gone. It is only right that your son be here with you."
Mrs. Voss looked relieved and gave Wong a warm smile, telling him that was an excellent idea. When she asked him if he would need money, he smiled slightly and said not to worry. Then she fished her husband’s door key from a pocket and slipped it into his hand, and he was gone before Annie could blink. Surprisingly, Mrs. Voss then turned to her sister-in-law, who had stood rooted to the steps above her throughout this exchange, and reached out her hand, saying "Sister, will you please help me entertain the Chief Detective. I would appreciate your support."
Miss Nancy scowled and descended the two stairs that divided them. Ostentatiously ignoring Mrs. Voss’s outstretched arm, she pushed her way past and made her way down the stairs alone. Mrs. Voss gave a slight sigh and followed her sister-in-law the rest of the way down the steps. When she got to the foot of the stairway where Annie had been standing as a mute witness, Mrs. Voss turned to her and asked her to bring tea into the parlor and then to ask Cartier to go down to the kitchen and stay there until called.
An outraged screech from upstairs testified that Cartier had already discovered that the house had been invaded, and Annie thought to herself she would probably not have to go to Cartier, but that Cartier would soon be down to the kitchen to find out what was going on.
After bobbing a curtsy in reply, Annie turned and flew back to the kitchen where she stopped abruptly when she glimpsed the blue of a police uniform. Her alarm turned to relief when she saw the man standing in the kitchen was Beatrice's nephew, Patrick. She ran to him, swiftly surveying the rest of the kitchen to make sure they were alone before speaking.
"Patrick, what is going on? Why is the Chief Detective having the house searched?"
"Mrs. Fuller," Patrick whispered urgently, "I hoped I'd get a chance to see you alone. The Chief's hot to make an arrest. He got new evidence this morning. Of course, the top brass don't tell us nothing specific, but the rumor is that someone from this house was seen at the Cliff House near the time Nellie was drowned. And some letter came in the mail this morning that fingered the same person for the Voss killing.
Annie gasped, "Who Patrick? Who do they suspect? Is it the servant Cartier?"
"Dunno. Didn't tell us. We're just supposed to look through the house and look for anything suspicious."
Patrick, who continued methodically to look through the cupboards and pantry shelves while talking, sounded apologetic when he next spoke. "You know, we didn't really do a thorough search of the place first time around because everyone thought it was suicide. Everyone but you! But the Chief got a court order for a search just this afternoon, based on this new evidence, so here we are. I'll try not to make too much of a mess down here. I know how my ma or Aunt Bea would feel about some man traipsing around in their pantries."
Annie laughed feebly. "That's all right, Patrick. You're just doing your job. But I don't really know what the Chief Detective expects to find, unless it’s in Cartier’s room. I've been looking myself for these past three days, and I haven't found anything in the rest of the house."
Just then the sound of footsteps interrupted them and Cartier swept indignantly into the kitchen. Annie was fully occupied for the next quarter of an hour getting the tea ready to take upstairs and trying to calm Cartier's hysterical outburst. She thought it was significant that the woman seemed to think the whole search w
as a direct attack on her. Annie found herself hoping that it was, and that it would turn out that Cartier's ever-locked room held the evidence Annie had been searching for.
In any event, Annie was so busy that she had no further opportunity to speak with Patrick. At some point Wong came in the back door, nodded to Patrick and then silently began to help Annie with the tea things. The two of them took the tray up together, which gave them a chance to whisper quietly on the stairs. Wong said briefly that he had sent the telegrams, but that he had not waited to see if there was a reply. Annie told him what Patrick had said, and then they were at the parlor door.
When they returned to the kitchen, Patrick seemed to have finished his investigations, and had been joined by another policeman. The two whispered together and then left. Cartier had lapsed into silence, stirring her tea and staring rigidly in front of her. Annie helped Wong clean up after the mess Patrick made. When the kitchen clock struck six o’clock, Wong finally spoke, saying to the room in general that he supposed that dinner was once more going to be delayed. They could hear the sounds of thumps and voices that testified that the police were still at work.
Shattering the silence, the bell for the parlor rang, and Annie went upstairs to see what was required. When she entered the parlor, Miss Nancy and Mrs. Voss were sitting stiffly, side by side on the sofa. Apparently Mrs. Voss’s abundant social skills had failed her. The Chief Detective and his Sergeant were huddled with two uniformed policemen looking at something that rested on the tea table. Their bodies screened whatever they were looking at from Annie's sight. However, their voices sounded excited, and, when the Chief Detective glanced over at their entrance, she saw tangible signs of suppressed elation in his expression. His sergeant and the two other policemen were just leaving the parlor, taking whatever they had been looking at with them, when the sounds of a commotion reached them from the hallway and Jeremy and Malcolm Samuels burst into the room.
Maids of Misfortune: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery Page 23
