The Cliff House Strangler (31 page)

Information from #8. Sky god has new mistress. Seen together at El Dorado.

Black Douglas’s wife has secret lover. #10 saw them together at Murphy’s.

Information from #3. Janus seen with new gentleman friend at Nancy’s. Should put end to political aspirations.

Where did Napoleon suddenly come up with money for new house on Russian Hill?

“Even though Moss wrote everything in Coptic, he still used a code for the people he was investigating,” I said in frustration. “Or perhaps these are just nicknames he assigned to each of them.”

“He must have really worried about another reporter stealing his stories,” George commented, looking equally disappointed. “Why don’t we read through these again and see if any of the entries ring a bell.”

We had been at our task for only a few minutes when a young uniformed officer knocked and entered the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” the man said, “but Lieutenant Ahern wants to see you in his office.” He hesitated, then added, “
Immediately
is the way he put it, sir.”

“Yes, Osborn. Tell the lieutenant I’m on my way.” After the
young man left, George regretfully folded up the copy I’d given him of Moss’s notes. “Sorry, Miss Sarah. I was hoping we could go over these together. I’d appreciate it if you’d write down the name of the librarian who did these translations and where he can be reached. I’m going to ask him to transcribe the rest of Moss’s diary.” He gave a rueful smile. “I know we don’t agree on this, but I honestly believe Serkov was our man. Still, I think it would be as well to know what else the reporter was working on.”

“I’m glad to hear that, George. It’s one thing we can both agree on.” I jotted down Ferrier’s particulars and handed them to George. “Before you go, I’d like to know if you’ve been able to locate Cecil Vere’s fiancée?”

“Yes. In fact, I broke the news of Mr. Vere’s death to her yesterday.” I read genuine regret in his intelligent brown eyes. “She took it very hard. Not that I can blame the poor girl. You were right when you said they were counting on getting married. A very sad state of affairs.” He pulled a piece of paper from a pocket and gave it to me. Upon it was written Annie’s full name and address. “I’d better go now. Lieutenant Ahern gets into a real lather when we’re late.”

“Thank you, George. Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out.”

“And you’ll tell me if you come up with any more ideas about the notes?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll let you know right away.”

It was nearing lunchtime as I exited the station, yet I was disinclined to put off my next errand even long enough to eat. Since my failure to speak to Frederick the previous week, my imagination had conjured up all sorts of reasons why he’d visited city jail the afternoon of Dmitry Serkov’s death—none of them good. I could not stop worrying about what my brother might have become involved in. I would get no rest until I had asked him to his face.

Too impatient for public transportation, I hailed the first hansom cab to come along, then gave the driver my brother’s Nob Hill address. It was not a long journey, but midday traffic was heavy and it was half an hour before we pulled up at our destination.

As usual, the front door was answered by Woodbury, who somberly informed me that he would see if Senator Woolson was in. Going along with the charade, I allowed him to lead me into the front parlor, where I was forced to wait a quarter of an hour before my brother joined me. He swept into the parlor, a sour expression on his broad face, and, without sitting down, regarded me with displeasure.

“These unannounced visits of yours are growing tiresome, Sarah. What is it now? And please keep it brief. I’ve been out of town the past several days and have important business awaiting my attention.”

“I’m sure you do, Freddie,” I answered. “But the matter I wish to discuss must take precedence, I’m afraid. It’s of the utmost importance.”

“For the love of heaven, Sarah, what are you babbling on about?” he asked brusquely. “What can possibly be that important?”

I was far too worried to mince words. “Why did you visit city jail last Thursday afternoon?”

Frederick’s eyes widened in surprise, and I watched the color drain from his face. Of all the subjects he might have expected me to broach, this one had obviously not entered his mind. Even as he attempted to mask his distress, I knew my question had hit a nerve.

“What makes you think I was at the jail?” he countered, bringing his voice, and his expression, under control. “And even if I was, what possible business is it of yours? I am growing exceedingly weary of your incessant meddling, Sarah. It is a most unattractive trait in a woman. You’ll never find a man willing to marry you if you—”

“Frederick, this is serious!” I said, cutting him off. “Please, sit down. We have to talk.” I realized that this attack on me was my brother’s attempt to draw attention from himself. It was an old ploy he’d long used on his younger siblings, particularly his little sister. This time, I would not be sidetracked.

“Yes, you are quite right,” he said, taking a seat in the armchair across from mine. “It is high time we had a serious discussion. I
have been meaning to speak to Papa again concerning your marital prospects.”

“Frederick, this is about you, not me. You may be in grave trouble, and I need an honest answer. What were you doing at the jail last Thursday? Whom did you go there to see? And don’t bother to deny that you were there, because your name is entered in the visitor book—in
your
handwriting.”

“You are hysterical, Sarah, completely out of control. I have repeatedly told Father that—”

“Listen to me!” I all but shouted at him. “Don’t you realize that a murder was committed in the jail at the very same time you were there?”

His face turned very red and he sat straight and stiff in his chair. “How dare you march into my home without an invitation and insist I answer your outlandish, not to mention extremely rude, questions. I am a good deal older than you, Sarah, and I am a state senator. I will not stand for this disrespect. Certainly not when it comes from an ill-mannered, opinionated female who behaves as though she has no breeding. You may be my sister, but you are a disgrace to the family!”

“What is going on in here? Why are you yelling, Frederick? You are setting a bad example for the servants, not to mention your own son.”

My brother and I turned, to find Henrietta regarding us from the doorway, her brittle face scowling with displeasure.

“Sarah and I are just having a little chat,” he said with an unconvincing smile. “It doesn’t concern you, my dear. I’m sure you have other matters to attend to in preparation for Senator and Mrs. Gaylord’s dinner party Saturday night.”

“Nonsense, Frederick.” Henrietta entered the room but did not take a seat. “Sarah, I am surprised to see you here again so soon after your last visit,” she said, not bothering to mask her dislike for me. “Now, what are the two of you arguing about? You are disturbing the entire household.”

“My dear, I assure you it is nothing,” he insisted in a voice that had become disgustingly obsequious.

Why was Frederick so desperate to exclude Henrietta from our conversation? I wondered. Could it be that she had no more idea than I did what business took him to the jail last Thursday afternoon? I felt a wave of dread at the possible implications.

“I have simply been giving my sister some advice about her prospects for contracting a suitable marriage,” he added, somewhat lamely, I thought, since Henrietta was well aware of my views regarding matrimony.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” my sister-in-law said matter-of-factly. “Who would possibly wish to marry a woman who possesses absolutely no sense of fashion, who displays a vulgar interest in politics, and, worse of all, who insists on competing in a man’s world?”

“Thank you, Henrietta,” I told her dryly. “Now, if you would please allow Frederick and me a little privacy, perhaps we can finish our conversation and I can be on my way.”

“As attractive as that sounds, Sarah, I would prefer to know what you have said to my husband that has caused him to lose his temper.”

I heard the clock strike the hour in another part of the house as she gathered her skirts behind her and took a seat on the sofa. “Now, for the final time, I demand to be told what this is all about.”

My gaze went to Frederick, wondering how he planned to extricate himself from his wife’s inquisition. The flush had drained from his face, and his left eye was twitching, as it often did when he was under stress.

“Henrietta, my dear, you are making far too much of this,” he protested. “We were simply discussing—”

There was a knock on the parlor door, causing him to break off in mid-sentence.

“Yes?” Henrietta called out irritably.

The door opened and Woodbury entered the room. His lined,
exceedingly proper face was creased with concern and disapproval, as if he were about to introduce a vagrant off the street.

“I am sorry to interrupt you, madam, sir, but several, ah, gentlemen are here to see Mr. Woolson. I informed them you were presently occupied, but they refuse to withdraw and come back later. It seems they are members of the, er, the police, sir.” The butler noticeably cringed as he uttered these words.

Frederick and Henrietta both looked at Woodbury as if he had taken leave of his senses. I felt as if I’d been suddenly drenched with a pail of ice water. I stared at my brother in undisguised dread, panicked that my warning for him had been delivered too late after all. Dear Lord, was my worst fear being realized?

“The police?” Frederick repeated, as if this word were foreign to his vocabulary. “Whatever for?”

“I cannot say, sir,” Woodbury replied, striving to regain his customary unruffled composure. “They declined to state their business.”

“Well then, I suppose you had better show them in.” He looked nervously at Henrietta, then at me, his expression hardening, as if I had personally brought this dishonor upon himself and his family.

Several minutes later, Woodbury ushered Lieutenant Ahern into the parlor. To my surprise, he was followed by George Lewis and a second uniformed officer. Ahern seemed equally taken aback to see me sitting there. George looked profoundly uncomfortable and avoided meeting my eyes.

The icy knot in my stomach grew into near panic. I was certain the police had come to interrogate my brother about Dmitry Serkov’s murder. Someone else had gone through the jail’s visitor log and discovered his presence at the jail that afternoon. Now Frederick would be forced to explain why he’d been there—whom he had gone to visit. I had to speak to my brother first, prepare him before he was grilled by Lieutenant Ahern. In this state of arrogant indignation, who knew what my brother might say, and live to regret?

“Lieutenant Ahern,” I said, rising from my chair. “If you have come here to question my brother, I should—”

Ahern held up a hand to silence me. “Please remain seated, Miss Woolson. This business will not take long. We will interview your brother down at the station.”

“Surely that’s not necessary,” I protested. “You can speak to him just as easily here in his own home. There’s no need to cause unnecessary embarrassment.”