The Deepest Waters, A Novel (20 page)

The carriage drove slowly down Broadway for well over a mile, providing Laura a nice diversion. At first, Melissa and Tom had tried to include her, but her short answers and long stares out the window eventually released them to what they more eagerly desired: to exchange smiles, adoring glances, and whispered compliments.

New York City, at least what she’d seen so far, put her in mind of the finest San Francisco had to offer. But it was much bigger and the buildings much taller. Most were three or four stories high, and several were over five stories. She couldn’t imagine people living and working at such heights. Then there were the stores, the shops, the restaurants for block after block.

Back home with John, she’d only felt she belonged amidst such fineries after months of his persuasion. But now here, especially the way she looked, she was embarrassed to even ride in a carriage such as this.

“We’re here,” Tom announced. The carriage slowed to a stop. “The Metropolitan Hotel. Wait till you see it, Melissa.”

As they stepped out of the carriage, Laura was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place, then the elegance. “I can’t go in there,” she said quietly to Melissa. “Look at me.”

“Look at me,” Melissa said. “I look just as bad.”

But she didn’t. She was younger, prettier. Her face clean. She was in love.

“We’ll go in, get cleaned up a bit. Then buy some new clothes in one of these nice stores.”

“There’s eight stores on the first floor of the hotel alone,” Tom said. “Plenty more on every street corner if you don’t find what you want.”

“Okay,” said Laura. Shopping could only help her disposition.

Tom tipped the driver and whispered something. The man nodded and stepped away. “Shall we?” he said, leading them toward the lobby doors. They were large single panes of glass framed in brushed bronze. A doorman dressed like a colorful toy soldier opened the doors, smiled, and bowed as they walked through. Laura noticed he gave her a strange look then tried to correct it.

She stepped into the lobby. She had seen nothing in San Francisco to compare with this. The high ceilings with crystal chandeliers. The shiny brass and gold trim. The upholstered rosewood furniture. The rich carpets and tapestries. As they stepped up to the counter she noticed it was made of the same marble as the mantel over the grand fireplace. It was almost too much to take in.

“Can I help you, sir?” the hotel clerk asked.

“I believe I mentioned my fiancée would be arriving today.”

“You did. We have her room all ready. Just two doors down from yours.” The clerk reached back and pulled a key from a row of hooks. “Miss Anders, pleased to have you with us.”

Laura noticed he gave Melissa a slight disapproving look. When Laura stepped up, he seemed almost startled, confused. He feigned a polite smile and said, “How can I help you, Miss . . .”

“Mrs. Foster. I’ll need a room for a few nights at least.”

“Has the gentleman made you aware of our rates, Mrs. Foster?”

She untied her black pouch and set it on the counter. She opened it. “Oh no. Where’s the note?” Maybe it had gotten caught in the folds of her dress. Then she looked on the floor. “It can’t be gone.”

“Is something wrong?” the clerk asked.

“What is it, Laura?” Melissa asked.

“John’s note. It’s gone.” Tears instantly filled her eyes. “I must have dropped it on the ship.”

“Then we’ll find it,” Tom said. “I’m quite sure the
Cutlass
won’t be leaving the harbor today.”

“Can we go back?”

“I’ll go back,” said Tom. “While you ladies get cleaned up and buy some new clothes.”

“Thank you so much,” said Laura. “You are very kind.” She turned to the clerk. “I don’t know what your rates are, sir, but I have plenty of gold.” She opened the pouch wide and pushed it toward the clerk.

He looked inside. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t the Wild West, ma’am. We can’t take gold nuggets.”

Tom stepped up. “Listen, my good man. Both these women are survivors from the SS
Vandervere
. Have you heard about it?”

“Why, yes. It’s all anyone is talking about.”

“Mrs. Foster here just lost her husband. My fiancée barely escaped with her life. Can you make an exception? I’ll vouch for her until we can convert her gold into cash.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean you don’t have to do that. I am so sorry, Mrs. Foster. I had no idea. My manager gave me instructions that if any
Vandervere
survivors came in, they were to be given our finest rooms at no charge.”

“Really?”

“Yes. May I have your key back, Miss Anders? If you don’t mind,” he said, looking at Tom. “That goes for her too. I can offer her a room just one floor above yours.”

“No,” Melissa said. “Thank you, but no. I’d rather just keep the room closer to Tom.”

“Very well,” he said. He handed Laura a key from the fifth-floor row.

“Thank you very much,” Laura said. “That’s very kind.”

“Do you have any trunks or bags?”

“We lost them all,” said Melissa.

“I understand. If there’s anything else we can do for you, anything at all, just let me know.”

“We will,” Melissa said as they stepped away from the counter.

“And ladies,” the clerk said quietly, leaning forward. “If any members of the press interview you, you won’t forget to mention our hotel?”

“We won’t forget,” said Melissa.

“Well, you two take your time,” Tom said. “I’ll ride back to the ship and see about that note.”

“There’s a wonderful old black man, a slave named Micah,” said Laura. “He should be able to help you.” Laura suddenly remembered.

“What?” said Melissa.

“I can’t believe it. I forgot to say good-bye.” Again, tears instantly filled her eyes. “He was so nice to me the entire time. How could I just leave without saying good-bye? He must think I’m awful.”

“I will tell him of your great regret,” said Tom. “Your care is obvious. It will be easy to convey. Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brass money clip. He handed Melissa a large amount of cash. “I don’t think any of these stores will take gold nuggets, either.”

“I will pay you back,” said Laura.

“I’m sure you will. Before you go up, Melissa, may I have a word?”

“All right.” She turned to Laura. “I’ll meet you over by that set of chairs in two hours? Is that enough time?”

“I hope so,” said Laura. She waved and headed for the stairs.

Tom walked toward the lobby doors, and Melissa followed. “What is it, Tom?”

He looked to make sure Laura was far enough away. “I am going to the ship, but feel I must tell you. I am not at all comfortable with Mrs. Foster’s decision not to tell her husband’s family about her situation. They have a right to know their son was married, that she’s their daughter-in-law.”

“I was thinking the same thing. But what if she’s right? What if they mistreat her? She’s already suffered so much.”

“Then I won’t mention it to her until I know their reaction. If it’s clear they don’t want to see her, I’ll tell them of her desire to keep her distance also and assure them of my discretion. But my sense of honor tells me I have to try.”

“Whatever you say, Tom. I trust you. But since you are going, let me tell you what I know about John and Laura. It may help if you knew a bit of their story.”

Ayden Maul set his beer down and sat straight up in his seat. The fancy-dressed man from the carriage, he was coming out of the hotel. Maul watched through the bar window, across the broad intersection. Seemed the man was alone. He walked to the edge of the curb and waved his hand. From somewhere down the street, the carriage they used to get here pulled up to let him in.

Maul glanced back to the hotel doors. Still no ladies coming out. The carriage pulled away.

He still hadn’t figured out a plan, how to get at this Foster woman. He couldn’t just walk into the hotel, looking like he did. He thought he might sneak in the back, steal a uniform, and find his way to her room somehow.

Or else he could just sit here drinking beers watching the door. Liked that idea better. She had to come out sometime. Best thing would be if she’d come out after dark. Nobody to see him follow her. She better come out tonight. Maul only had enough cash to either keep filling this mug or rent a cheap room for the night, not both.

A highfalutin couple walked by, lady twirling a parasol. Blocked his view for a moment. When they passed, he looked around at each intersection and up and down the sidewalks, far as he could see. That was it. Plenty of fancy-dressed folk roaming these streets. He could just wait till sundown, get enough cash from one of them to drink all he pleased,
and
get a nice hotel room. Probably wouldn’t even have to pull out his knife. Just threaten to.

That’ll work, he thought.

So he’d just stay put. Drink beers. Watch the doors.

She’d come out.

“Sorry, young fella, but Micah ain’t here. You can insist all you want to see the captain, but he’ll just say the same thing.”

“There’s this note,” Tom said. “One of the women from the
Vandervere
, Mrs. Foster, she left it on the ship somewhere this morning. She is quite sure of it. My fiancée and I are just helping her. It’s very important to her, apparently the last words her husband said.”

“Sounds important. You could take a look around the deck if you want. Not a scrap of paper up here. Micah cleaned everything up. And I know for a fact he can’t read, so he wouldn’t have thought much of it. Hate to say it, but I’m afraid that note’s in a rubbish box somewhere. Maybe you can talk to the steamship people, see where they put their rubbish.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I had to try. Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome.”

The young man turned and walked toward the main dock area and was soon out of sight. Maylor, Captain Meade’s first mate, walked over to the hatch leading to the main hold. As he opened it, he heard someone moving below. He thought the entire crew had already gone. “Who’s down there?” he said in a stern voice. Better not be that thief Maul.

“Somebody say something?”

“Micah, that you?”

“Missuh Maylor?”

“I’ll be darned,” said Maylor. “I thought you was gone. Captain said he let you go, to take care of something before we leave.”

“He did, but Cap’n said fust I had to do all my chores, ever’ last one.”

“I just told this well-dressed young fella you’d done taken off.”

Micah quickly climbed the stairs. “He still here? Say what his name was?” He hurried toward the bow.

Maylor followed right behind him. “He’s gone now. Said something about looking for some note for that nice lady, Mrs. Foster.”

“Must be this one.” He pulled a wrinkled paper from his pocket. “It’s a note from Missuh Foster, her husband. His last words.”

“Yeah, he said something about that.”

Micah ran to the bow. “I don’t see any fancy-dressed gentleman.”

“Told you, he’s gone.”

Micah looked up at the sky. “Only a few hours till the sun starts goin’ down. Wished I knew how far I had to walk to find that Foster place.”

“How much more work you got to do?”

“Just clean up the hold, that’s it.”

“C’mon. I’ll give you a hand.”

“You will?”

“Mrs. Foster really was a nice lady.” He turned back toward the hold. “And you ain’t so bad yourself.”

“Thank you, suh.”

“You’re an ugly old coot, but you ain’t so bad.”

“Yessuh, Missuh Maylor.”