Maids of Misfortune (22 page)

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 13, 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.

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 halfway 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 were demented, and 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 isn'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 toward 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?"