Death at Pullman (21 page)

“But she told you.”

“She came to me, to ask me . . . she wanted to find a way to stop the pregnancy, to rid herself of the child. Come, Emily, you are not so ignorant that you do not know there are methods, ways for a woman to rid herself of a child before it is born. Sit down. Of course, I would not consider such a thing. It is terribly dangerous to the woman, at least as dangerous as having the child.”

I knew that. Not that it was in any way common in the society in which I grew up. There were always old wives' tales of methods to prevent a child from being born, but they were only rumors to me. On the West Side of Chicago, around Hull House, with so many children and so little to survive on, we had heard of women in dire circumstances who sought such treatments. Miss Addams and Mrs. Kelley took it in stride. They did not condone it, but they were not surprised.

The doctor continued, “I tried to help her. I tried to convince her to confide in her father, but she would not. I put her to work in the clinic, thinking that having her under my eyes I could counsel her. I thought I had convinced her not to seek to rid herself of the child. I am sure I had. Until Mr. LeClerc came along.”

I thought of all the meetings I'd had with my committee that Fiona attended, and all the times that we had worked together in the storeroom, and handing out supplies. She had never told me and I had never suspected. “She confided in LeClerc, then? What did he do?”

“LeClerc has an answer for every problem, an easy answer. Your wages are too low, join the ARU. They still won't raise them, strike. You have a child you do not want, get rid of it. LeClerc took her to someone in the city to end the pregnancy for her.”

Raoul had done that—I could not believe it. “Surely he was only trying to help. It is true that it would be hard on a girl like her if it was discovered that she was with child and unmarried. It would ruin her.”

“And this would not? They're butchers, the ones who will do this. God knows where she got the money, because it does not come cheap. He took her and had it done, but when they returned she started bleeding. That's when he brought her here. I was able to stop the bleeding, but it is likely that Fiona MacGregor will never be able to bear children again. It is a terrible price.”

“Poor Fiona.”

“And then you find her helping LeClerc make a bomb. How terrible the consequences of all this. Surely you cannot admire that man, Emily? You cannot excuse him.”

I blushed. I had admired Raoul LeClerc once. “I do not, Doctor, I promise you, I do not. But they have been driven to this by the circumstances. Don't you see it? If Stark had not killed Brian O'Malley, he would have married Fiona and they would have had the child together. If Pullman had only supported the model town that he built, so that the people in it could live and thrive, none of this would have happened. Instead, he starves them and hires Pinkerton agents to provoke them further. If only he had continued the course that he started in building the town.”

“You are wrong, Emily.” He was shaking his head. “As Pullman himself has said, he did not build the town as an act of charity, he built it to make a profit. The very roots of this place are rotten with greed. And LeClerc came to build up the power of the ARU, not for any selfless reason. And MacGregor and the strikers want higher wages. You are the only one whose motives are pure, Emily. You and the other people at Hull House.”

“And you, Doctor. Your motives are pure.”

He stood up abruptly and turned away from me, fiddling with something on the bookcase behind him. “Not so, perhaps.” He turned back to me. “In any case, not enough to remain any longer. I have asked Miss Addams to find someone else for the clinic. I leave next week for Woods Hole in Massachusetts. Your friend, Clara, is already there. There is a summer study program that has a place for me. They have been good enough to hold it open, but I must leave now if I want to accomplish anything this summer. I am leaving.”

I was stunned and looked at him open mouthed. But I realized that with Fiona such a disappointment to him, it must be agony to remain. He studied my face as if memorizing it. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Emily. But there is little more I can do here. I can set broken bones to allow them to heal and I can stitch up wounds and help the patient to recover. But I cannot treat the root cause of these problems. They are beyond my help and continuing to watch them is beyond my endurance. There is nothing I can do to stop any of this.”

“But there must be justice,” I told him. “Stark must not be allowed to get away with all that he has done. Pullman cannot be allowed to win. It is not right that the government should take the side of the owners against the workingmen.”

“But they already have, Emily.”

“But we cannot stand by and let it happen, we cannot.”

He sighed. “What do you plan to do about it?”

I stood up. “I am going to Colonel Turner. He needs to know what happened. The police are reporting to him now. That Stark could shoot a police detective and not have to pay for it is not possible. I am going to Colonel Turner and demand he do something.”

“And if he does not?”

“He must.”

The doctor began pulling down his shirt cuffs.

“You do not need to accompany me.”

“It is the least I can do.”

“It is not necessary.”

He took his suit coat from the rack and put it on. It must have been warm in the summer evening. “Come.” He held the door. I took a deep breath, felt for the heavy weight in my pocket, and marched out the door.

Electric lights illuminated the transformed billiard rooms in the Florence Hotel. Although darkness had fallen, we found Colonel Turner at work in his office, with men still milling about in the outer room. I demanded an interview and Dr. Chapman stayed at my elbow. Corporal Giles seemed a bit in awe of my apparent anger. But he quickly arranged for an interview with the colonel. This time Colonel Turner's coat was unbuttoned, and he was surrounded by maps laid out over his desk. He looked weary and annoyed.

“I heard about the incident. How is the detective, Doctor?”

“We'll know more in the morning. I've done what I can and he's resting at the clinic.”

“Has Stark been arrested?” I asked.

“Miss Cabot, as I tried to explain before, it is not our brief to arrest transgressors. Our charge is to protect the property of the United States.”

“And the Pullman Company and the railroads,” I interrupted.

“Of the United States government, I say. And to ensure the flow of the United States mails. We do not arrest people. The police and sheriff's officers do that, my men merely support and protect them.”

“This is how you protect them? A police detective is shot? How is that protecting them?” I demanded.

“Corporal, get Captain Saunders,” he barked.

“Yes, sir.”

Our corporal returned at double time with another officer.

“Saunders, you were in charge on the engine this afternoon. Dr. Chapman, and Miss Cabot here, say that the police detective, Whitbread, was shot by one of our men. Tell them what happened.”

“Sir, I am very sorry for this but it was a terrible accident. As you know, sir, we were faced by a mob that continued all along the railway line. It became a tedious exercise to remove obstacles placed on the track while saboteurs worked on blocking that further ahead of us. While we were at work, clearing overturned cars or fixing damaged switches, there were members of the crowd out ahead of us causing more obstructions.” Colonel Turner moved some of the papers in front of him. He was impatient with the explanation. “At the same time a crowd was placed in front of us, so that when the obstruction was removed we still had to find a way to move the engine through the crowd without actually harming people, which we tried very hard to avoid.”

“Yes, yes. But tell them about the shooting.”

“We removed the overturned boxcar and were about to move. As usual, the cowardly men in the mob used the tactic of placing women and children in the front, making it even more difficult for us to try to move forward. Usually this lasts until they get some signal from those ahead that the sabotage work has been completed, then they melt away. But we were being cursed, that is the only way to describe it . . . sir, ma'am . . . we were being cursed by the women in the front of the crowd. Our men have been ordered not to reply, but the sheriff's men tend to respond. Mr. Stark . . . ” He grimaced as if Stark were a thorn in his side, along with some, or all, of the other so-called deputies. “He and some of the other deputies were engaged in yelling back at the curses from the crowd. Then a particular woman rose up from the crowd and was out in the front, yelling at Stark. I could not hear exactly what was said.”

“He shot her fiancé in front of her eyes—in front of my eyes—only three days ago,” I interjected.

“I'm very sorry. I did not know that, miss.”

“Go on, Captain,” Turner erupted. His face was red from impatience and the heat of the summer night.

“Yes, sir. This woman was yelling back at Stark and suddenly I saw her raise a pistol. I ordered our men to move in to protect the deputy, but Stark fired. A man jumped in the middle just at that moment. We had no way of knowing that it was the policeman, sir. And Stark shot in self-defense. The woman held the gun in both hands and had it pointed at him.”

“And then?” Colonel Turner demanded.

“We still had the train to protect. The crowd moved in immediately, sir. I could not see exactly what was going on. I had no idea it was the detective who was hit and the crowd quickly carried him off, for medical attention. We continued on with the train, sir. I am very sorry if we should have assisted the detective, but it was only after we stopped the train at Forty-Seventh Street for the night, and I returned here, that I learned it was the police detective that was injured.”

“So, you can testify that Stark fired in self-defense?” Turner asked brusquely.

The captain was unhappy. “As I have told you, sir. These deputized sheriffs are a problem. They are coarse and unruly. They drink, although they hide it from us officers. Stark, in particular, refuses to follow orders and is provocative in the extreme, as are the others sent by Sheriff Arnold.”

“Yes, yes, I have heard your complaints. But did he shoot in self-defense?”

“I have to say that he did, sir.” Captain Saunders turned to me, his face full of regret. “Miss, the woman had a gun that she aimed at him. That he should shoot is only to be expected.”

I was infuriated. “Do you mean to tell me you will do nothing? This man killed an innocent bystander, namely Mr. Mooney. Then he shot a police detective. And before that he killed a man and hung him up, with a sign saying he was a spy to try to put the blame on someone else. Then he conspired to plant a bomb in the factory, and you will still let him walk free and ride trains, carrying a gun to kill even more people? Because he is a deputy? You will let him continue?”

The captain was about to try to answer, but the colonel stepped out from behind his desk, with a hand up to restrain him. “Miss Cabot, this matter must be dealt with by the civil authorities
after
we have completed our work of securing the lines so that the U.S. mails may pass unobstructed. We are not here to deal with these matters. We can do nothing about this Stark. I have asked Sheriff Arnold to reassign him, but beyond that,
I can do nothing
. Do you hear me?
Nothing
. I cannot help you.”

“I hear you, Colonel. I hear that you have no plan to stop this carnage or help these people. You will make trains run on their tracks and think you are done. But it will all be for naught. All of it.” I turned on my heel and marched out. I had already known it was useless. The men in the outer billiard room looked uncomfortable as I passed through. They must have heard what was said, our voices were raised so high. I knew they would attempt to dismiss me as a hysterical female.

It was a relief to get out of the stuffy indoors to the wide porch. I let the screen door bang behind me. But I did not run down the steps and into the night, as I was sure the men inside pictured me doing. I moved, oh so quietly, to my left, to the empty wooden rocking chairs in the shadow of the porch and sat in one outside the open window of Colonel Turner's office. I was careful that the heavy weight of Detective Whitbread's pistol in the deep pocket of my skirt did not knock against the wooden slats of the chair.

I knew from spending some time on the wide porch on the north side of the Florence Hotel, outside the ladies' parlor, that the porch outside the billiard rooms had not been used since the military had taken over that part of the building. I also knew that I was hidden by the shadows. But I could hear what was said in Colonel Turner's office.

“ . . . and keep that son of a bitch off the outside of any trains.

Stick him in the baggage car. If I hear that anyone has seen that so-and-so, or that he has been allowed to do any more yelling at the crowds, I'll have your scalp, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. He's disliked by the men anyhow, sir, but then all of those deputies are. They're drunk half the time.” Captain Saunders was trying to defend himself.

“Yes, well, next time shoot one of
them
, will you? Now get out.” The captain left without further comment. He must have been happy to get out under from his commander's glaring stare. I could hear Turner move back behind his desk. “Doctor, I'm sorry to have upset the young lady. Of course, she's right. But my hands are tied. I have these confounded local politicians to deal with. That rascal, Stark, is protected by Arnold and there's nothing I can do about it. Whitbread would understand. I hope he comes through all right. He's a good man. Better than most of the local scum who've been assigned to us.”

“I hope so, too, Colonel. We will know more tomorrow.” There was a pause.

“Was there something more you wanted to say, Doctor?” The colonel sounded impatient.

“Only that—as a medical man—like you, I cannot control who I treat and what is real justice. I could have a man of highly questionable value, someone like Stark, brought to me to be treated and, as much as I disliked or disapproved or even abhorred the man, I would have to treat him.”

“Yes.”

“But, Colonel, at least in medicine, there is always some discretion. ‘To do no harm' is absolutely my oath and my duty. But it can happen that without doing harm there are choices that must be made to do or not to do, to make extraordinary effort or to let nature take its course. I think you know what I mean.”

There was silence then. I heard some papers being shuffled. Then more silence.

“In a battle, Doctor, it is often the case that more than one course of action may be possible, and more than one may be perfectly honorable, yet they still present a choice that must be made. I assume that is the type of situation you mean.” He did not wait for a response. “Giles.”

“Yes, sir.” I heard the voice of our friend Corporal Giles.

“Find Stark and send him in to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was no conversation while they waited. Eventually I heard Stark come in. “You wanted me? Eh, sir? Colonel?”

“Mr. Stark, I understand you discharged your gun into a crowd of civilians this afternoon.”

“There was a gun pointed at me. I've got witnesses. Your men saw it. There was a gun pointed at me.”

“And are you aware that your bullet hit a Chicago police detective?”

“Well, no, sir. I'm sure I didn't know that. Well, that's a shame, sir. But there was that woman with a pistol pointed at us on the train. He must have been trying to stop her. You sure she didn't hit him?”

I felt my heart beat hard in my throat. That man was such a liar, such a cheat.

“That seems unlikely. However, Captain Saunders saw the pistol in the woman's hands and he says it was self-defense.” I was looking out at the campground of soldiers, but I could imagine the smirk on Stark's face. “You won't be riding the trains any more. You are to go to the track south of here. The Diamond Special is due to go through soon after nine o'clock and we want to make sure there is no sabotage. You will walk the line between the switch at 117th Street and 130th Street.”

“But I've already done my shift for the day.”

“Stark, you're under my command per Sheriff Arnold's orders. You follow my orders and patrol that part of the line or, believe me, I will insist that you get relieved of your deputy star and your pay is stopped. Do you understand that?”

“All right, all right. I'm just sayin' . . . ”

“I'm not interested in your back talk. Get down there now. If anything goes wrong with the track in that section, you will be out on your ear so fast you won't know what hit you. And another thing—I know some of you like to walk the west track beside the one used by the Diamond. Stay off all the tracks. You can look, you can inspect, but stay off the tracks.”

“There's mud and bushes on the side, the track at least is level. A man could turn a foot, twist his ankle, break a leg even.”

“I am not asking for your opinion, man. I'm telling you to stay off the track.”

“That's just those railroad men thinking their precious . . . ”

“No more. You don't question my statements. Get out there now and stay off the tracks or you won't get a cent of pay for your work. Understood?”

“Yes, sir, Colonel, sir.” It was a mocking tribute. I could hear Stark shuffle out.

“I have done all I can for you, Doctor. There's nothing more I can do about that man.”

“Yes, Colonel. Thank you anyway.”

“I hope you can get Miss Cabot to see reason. And I hope the detective is all right. If there is anything I can get for you that would help him, let me know.

“Thank you. I'm afraid there's nothing else to be done. His constitution will have to do the rest.”

“Well, that may not be so bad. From what I've seen of him he has the constitution of an ox.”

“Yes. There's one other thing, Colonel. I will be leaving Pullman after this week.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, Doctor. I understand you've been doing good work down here.”

“Thank you. There is one thing you should know about. When the plot to blow up the clock tower was foiled, Detective Whitbread discovered that there were a few sticks of dynamite that were not recovered. They have been found.”

“Dynamite! Why wasn't I told about this? Where is it? Who had it and what were they planning?”