Bloody Lessons (30 page)

Chapter Thirty-nine

Thursday evening, February 12, 1880

"FALSE REGISTRATION: A Bold Attempt to Commit Wholesale Fraud. The landlady informed him that the room had been rented by Chris Buckley, who had furnished her with a list of the names of the alleged lodgers that were to crowd themselves into the single bed." ––
San Francisco Chronicle
, 1880

At Nate’s insistence, Annie took a cab to his law firm’s offices. As she walked up the stairs, she felt grateful she’d done so. She was very tired. By the time Nate and she had thoroughly discussed what they wanted to accomplish at the meeting with Blaine, Emory, and Hoffmann, it was later than either had expected, and both of them still had work to do before they retired. She’d hoped to have the time, and the courage, to bring up the topic of their relationship. But she’d taken one look at the dark circles under his eyes and determined this was not the moment for a deep personal conversation. Surely, when the investigation was over and the trial he was working on was completed, there would be time.

When she reached the firm’s office, the entry door stood open. She took a minute to
appraise the men who were gathered in the outer room. Emory and Blaine, similar in age and status, were so different in appearance. Emory was tall and elegant, displaying his wealth prominently on his person. Blaine was short and plain and could have passed unnoticed among the men working at his construction sites. Yet they shared a distinct air of power and confidence as they chatted animatedly with each other.

In contrast, Nate and Thomas Hoffmann, both young men making their way up the professional ladder, stood talking more quietly to the side. Nate, who must have gone to the barber early this morning, looked
well-groomed and polished for once, as befitted a lawyer. Hoffmann, on the other hand, looked for the first time as if the strain of the accusations were getting to him, with his shirt collar slightly wilted and chalk dust sprinkled over his coat.

Just as everyone finished offering their polite greetings to Annie, the door to one of the inner offices swung open
, and the man who came into the room instantly eclipsed every other male there. Able Cranston, the new law partner, wasn’t physically imposing, but when he came up to her to be introduced, she experienced the full force of his personal magnetism. He told Annie that he’d greatly admired her father when he was a young man. He then gracefully complimented her for using her business acumen to help in the current investigation and praised Nate for his contributions to the on-going trial. No wonder he was known as one of the best defense lawyers in the state. She would be hard-pressed as a jury member (if women were ever allowed to serve on juries) not to believe every word he said no matter how guilty his client.

When Cranston left, the meeting began with everyone sitting around the conference table. Blaine was the first to speak, and he reported that he wasn’t able to find any evidence of political connections for Frazier, the applicant for Mrs. Anderson’s job, or Stoddard, the math teacher who Hoffmann had dismissed. Ferguson, the Clement Grammar janitor, was a different matter.

“I learned he is well-known among saloon keepers south of Market for getting out the vote for the Democrats,” said Blaine. “I don’t know if he is working directly for Buckley, but I’m looking into that.”

Nate asked, “What about Andrew Russell?”

When Blaine simply shook his head in the negative, Emory spoke up. “After Blaine tracked me down last night and told me about the latest letter, I spent some of today dropping in on three of my fellow school board members, all Republicans. I said I was looking for an educated man to offer a position in my company, floated the name of Andrew Russell.”

Emory continued. “Frankly, I wanted to see if anyone had gotten a letter similar to the ones that had accused Hoffmann of impropriety. Nothing like that was mentioned,
but one board member did say he’d met Russell at a couple of Republican fund raisers. Didn’t remember anything else but that he was a school administrator and that Russell mentioned an older brother who’d been a New York state senator during the war.”

Hoffmann spoke up and said, “Look, I’ve known Russell for at least five years. If you are saying he wrote the letters about Emory and myself in order to curry political favor, I just don’t buy it. The man’s only ambition is academic. He’s got his head in the clouds half the time, parsing out some poem he’s translating.”

“But could he be manipulated by someone?” Nate asked. “A Republican who wanted to weaken Principal Swett’s position at Girls’ High or Buckley who wanted someone who’d undermine Swett’s influence with the legislature in Sacramento?”

A fierce debate erupted between Blaine and Emory over whether the anonymous letters were more likely to have been written to advance a Democratic or a Republican agenda. Annie finally stood up, forcing all the men at the table to stop talking and rise out of politeness.

She smiled and said, “I have a suggestion. We need to flush out the letter-writer, force them to reveal themselves. Even if this person is working for someone else, knowing the writer’s identity is key to figuring out the motive.”

Emory looked interested and said, “And just how do you suggest we do that?”

“There are risks, but I would write a letter to all of our suspects, an
anonymous
letter, that states that we know what they are up to and are prepared to expose them unless they meet with us and agree to terms.”

Blaine guffawed and said, “By gum, blackmail them! Aren’t you a smart little lady
?”

Annie, seeing Nate stiffen at Blaine’s tone
, said quickly, “Exactly. While it is possible that someone who is innocent might show up, I think we could probably deduce they aren’t involved pretty easily.”

“So we write to Ferguson, since he has the political connections,” Emory said
, “and hope that if he shows up, we can determine if he is working on his own or for Buckley?”

“Well, I doubt whether Ferg
uson, or his sister, is clever enough to write the letters on their own,” Annie replied. “But even if Ferguson goes to Buckley and asks him what to do, wouldn’t Buckley send him to the meeting, if only to find out who’s on to him?”

“That’s what I would do,” Blaine said. “But I might send someone with a bit more authority, as well, just to make sure this Ferguson has the guts to keep quiet.”

“That’s why I think I should be the one who shows up to the meeting,” Annie replied quietly.

When the uproar ignited by that statement finally died down, she continued. “I would want several of you nearby. Perhaps hidden in an adjoining room. I’m not foolish.”

Nate said something under his breath, and Annie decided to ignore him. She said, “If Ferguson comes on his own, I can tell him I am investigating for the school board and that I can get him fired if he doesn’t confess. If he is working for someone, he might push the blame on them.”

“What if he brings one of Buckley’s henchmen?” Blaine said.

Annie replied, “In that case, I suspect they wouldn’t see me as much of a threat, so there would be less chance of anything violent happening. And if you or Emory recognizes someone who works for Buckley, this would actually help us. Anyway, if you felt I was getting into trouble, you could step forward.”

Blaine nodded
, and Emory said, “And we do the same with these other names you’ve give me, Frazier and Russell? Assume that they will either say something that will implicate themselves or reveal someone they are working for.”

“Yes, but I would suggest we also send a letter to Della Thorndike.”

Emory exclaimed, “Who’s Della Thorndike?”

Hoffmann, who had been quiet during this last conversation, turned to Emory and said, “She teaches at Girls’ High and is temporarily teaching the Normal class. But I must say, I think she would be even less likely than Russell to be our letter-writer.”

“She knows everyone involved,” Annie replied. “She seems close friends with Ferguson’s sister, who works at Girls’ High; she knows all the teachers who have been maligned; and she wasn’t completely truthful with me when she reported her role in getting Mrs. Anderson hired. In addition, she is a very close friend of Andrew Russell’s.”

Hoffmann shook his head. “Well, she does like to be in the thick of things, so I could see her inadvertently playing a role. Maybe giving Ferguson some information or being used by Russell.”

“But you just described Russell as a dreamer, while Miss Thorndike strikes me as being very practical,” replied Annie. “She’s intelligent and wields a good deal of power and influence among the teachers and administrators in the school district. What if it was Della Thorndike who is using Russell and Ferguson to serve her own ends?”

“But what ends?” Hoffmann said. “What possible motivation would she have?”

“Is this Thorndike the teacher my Kitty dislikes?” Blaine blurted out. “The one Kitty says always tries to make her feel stupid?”

He looked at Annie, who nodded, and he
then said, “Seems if she wanted to damage my girl’s reputation, a girl who never did her any harm, maybe she’s writing these letters just because she’s one of those people who likes to hurt others.”

Chapter Forty

Saturday afternoon, February 14, 1880

"VALENTINES Most Elegant Stock in the City. From 1 Cent to $5 Each. Delivered in City or Mailed to country free on receipt of price." ––
San Francisco Chronicle
, 1880

Nate stood nervously at the front door to Annie’s boarding house, waiting for Kathleen to let him in. He’d told the cab driver to wait since he only had a few minutes to spare, but he knew he must see Annie before she went off to Girls’ High.

The door opened
, and the young maid smiled warmly as she ushered him in. “Sir, what beautiful flowers. Mrs. Fuller will be pleased, but you need to be a little more careful with them. Shall I get a vase for you?”

Nate looked down at the nosegay of violets he’d bought from a corner flower seller and saw that he was crushing the short stems. He’d spent a good half hour yesterday at the stationers near his office picking out a valentine card. The simple card he ended up buying showed a small boy giving his teacher an apple, with the caption, “Be Mine.”
Be Mine.
This morning, when he reread the card before signing it, all he could think of was how possessive that sounded and that Annie would hate it. And the illustration? When he got it, he was thinking of her stint teaching at Girls’ High, but for a valentine? Was he supposed to be a little boy? Was she supposed to be teaching him something? The last-minute decision to buy flowers came from his panicked doubt about giving her the card, which was in his coat’s inner pocket and would probably stay there.

He followed Kathleen into the formal parlor, empty of boarders for a change. Annie was sitting at the small writing desk near the front bay window, and she looked up at his entrance and smiled. He said, “I can’t stay but a minute, the cab is waiting, but I wanted to see you before…are you sure you are all right with me not being there with you?”

Annie put aside whatever she had been working on and came over to stand next to him. She took the violets from his hand, brought them up to her nose, and breathed deeply. Then she said firmly, “Yes Nate, I am sure. Do I wish you were going to be standing beside me the whole time? Of course I do. But I quite understand why Blaine and Emory don’t want a lawyer there when I confront whoever shows up today. If anyone shows up. That is really my greatest fear. That this will all be for naught and they will think me a fool for even suggesting this plan.”

“They jumped on your idea fast enough.”

“I know; I was rather surprised by that. I am sorry I sprung the idea without telling you, but it came to me in the cab on the way over to the meeting.”

Nate shrugged. He’d been upset at first, but how could he complain when he was the one who got her into this investigation in the first place
? Did he really expect Annie to play a passive role, content to rummage around in file cabinets? He said, “I just worry that if Buckley is the one behind the letters, one of his hoodlums will show up.”

“That’s why Hoffmann chose the Chemistry lab as the meeting place,” explained Annie. “There is a small pass-through room between the lab and the classroom where the chemicals are kept locked away. It’s big enough for Emory, Blaine, and Hoffmann to stand in and overhear what is going on, and they can be in the room with me in an instant if they feel I am in danger.”

Nate knew she was right. Emory and Hoffmann were both tall, strong men, and Blaine looked like he could take care of anything, bare-handed, so they would be able to protect her as well as he could. But he wished it wasn’t going to be Annie taking the greatest risk. Laura’s question to him reverberated in his mind.
Would he ever ask her to give up her career or an investigation?
He’d said no, without hesitating. Now was the time to prove to himself that he was telling the truth.

Thinking of Laura, Nate said, “You didn’t tell her about this afternoon’s plan to trap the anonymous letter writer, did you?”

Annie laughed. “No. I didn’t want her worrying. One Dawson’s furrowed brow is enough for me!” She reached over and ran her hand over his forehead. She then continued, “If this works today and we find that the persons involved had nothing to do with the attack on Laura, we must concentrate on figuring out if Buck was responsible.”

“I know. I promise I will seek out Seth Timmons tomorrow, see what he’s learned,” Nate said. “Where is Laura?”

“She’s out for the afternoon with Barbara, Jamie, and Ian. They went up to North Beach to Meiggs Wharf to watch the Italian fishermen bring in their catch. They promised to bring back some fresh fish for supper. Would you be able to get back here by seven and join us?”

“I don’t know if I can get back by then. When do you expect to get home, given that you’ve staggered the times you asked each person to come to the school?”

“Blaine insisted that I invite Russell to come first at three o’clock, then Della at three-thirty. So we could ‘get them out of the way.’ I invited Ferguson for four o’clock, and then Frazier a half an hour later, so I can’t imagine I won’t be home by seven.”

“What are you going to do if someone shows up but seems to be innocent?” This had bothered Nate about the plan from the beginning, worrying about the legal ramifications of making a false accusation. Even worse, someone could accuse Annie of blackmail.

“Well, I decided to address the note to ‘the anonymous letter writer’ and to say that they needed to come to ensure their ‘actions do not result in being prosecuted for libel.’ I figured that a person who wasn’t involved at all would either ignore the note or check with someone in authority about what to do. I doubt they would just show up.”

“And you think the threat of libel will cause the guilty party to show up?”

“Yes. If only to find out who sent the note and what information they had. I didn’t want to say anything about exposing them because that sounded too much like blackmail.”

“Smart woman.”
Nate’s attention was arrested by the quarter chime on the mantel clock. “Look, I have to go. I’ll get back here as soon as I can, hopefully be here before you get back. But let me take you out to dinner. Something special for Valentine’s Day. Something more than these sad flowers.”

Annie put the nosegay up to her cheek again and said, “Don’t you speak ill of my violets. I love them. Now go. Don’t keep Cranston waiting.”

Nate pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, then he said, “Be safe,” and left before he changed his mind and stayed.