The Gold Miner's Wife: A Young Woman's Story of Romance, Passion and Murder (20 page)

He angrily tore the telegram in two as his emotions ranged from incredulity to rage.  Evidence?  Evidence?  What possible evidence could have been discovered to place him under suspicion?  Mansfield never did things by half measures.  Had he miscalculated?  There was
no
evidence.  Brophy was now back at High Park and he certainly wasn’t talking.  There were dozens of men named John Brophy.  The only person who saw them together in Pine Creek was the stupid prostitute, and while at the brothel, Mansfield had been very careful not to reveal his name.  That the prostitute might ever be called upon to identify him was beyond preposterous.  They were grasping at straws.  Besides, he was a free citizen of a sovereign nation.  The Americans had no legal jurisdiction to pursue criminal accusations in England.  It was all bluff and bluster, speculation meant to cast suspicion on his integrity.

Well, he had taken care of it for now.  Let them have their theories.  Susannah was unaware that she had even received a telegram, let alone one from Jack Simmons.  He still had time to persuade her to marry him, at least three weeks by his estimate.  He would call on her in a couple of days and be more convincing.  The main thing was to remain calm and steady and committed to the plan.  ‘Loose lips sink ships,’ as they say.  Words to live by.  His goal was within reach and it was attainable.  This wasn’t a sprint, it was a marathon, and he was in for the long haul. 

             
It was well past midnight when Catori heard the click of the adjoining bedroom door followed by the low sound of muffled voices.  Despite her determination to stay awake she must have dozed.  She wondered for how long.  By the activity in the next room she knew that Susannah was now returned home and her personal maid was helping her out of her gown.  Catori had been apprehensive since receiving an unexpected telegram from Jack Simmons earlier in the evening, the troubling nature of its contents too important to be left until morning.  She pushed aside the counterpane, hopped out of bed and put on her wrap, then quietly made her way to the door of the adjoining bedchamber.

             
“Susannah,” she called with a gentle knock.

             
“Come in,” was the response.  Susannah stood near the dressing table.  She was fastening the belt about her robe while the maid disappeared into the dressing room with the gown.  “Catori?” she said, looking surprised, “you are up late.”

             
“Yes, I waited for you,” was the curious response.

             
“Well, Happy New Year then,” said Susannah with a smile.  “It is now officially January 1, 1877 and I am done in!”

             
“That is not why I waited up,” Catori said, sounding uncharacteristically worried.  “This telegram came shortly after you left,” she added, with her hand outstretched.  “I think it is important that you read it.”

             
“Now?” Susannah said in protest.

             
“Yes, now,” was the unwavering response.

             
Susannah took the telegram from her friend. 

‘Telegram sent today to Susannah warning her of dangerous situation.  Cookson and I travel to England tomorrow’

                                                     Jack

              She raised a brow and looked at her friend.  “Telegram?  But I didn’t receive any telegram,” Susannah began.

             
“Yes you did.  It arrived along with this one.  They came together.  Yours is on the table in the hallway, near the lamp, where Mrs. Ross thought you would be sure to see it when you came in.”

             
“No, I did not see it,” she said, as both ladies quickly headed for the door.  They hastily made their way down the stairs to the hallway near the foyer, but the silver salver that had contained the telegram was now empty.

             
“Maybe it fell,” suggested Susannah as they both looked behind and underneath the table to no avail.  “That is strange,” she added, as they continued to search. 

             
“I assure you, it was left here for you by Mrs. Ross,” Catori insisted, becoming more alarmed.

             
“Maybe she decided to move it elsewhere.  I will ask her in the morning,” said Susannah.

             
“It
was
right here,” said Catori again.

             
“I believe you.  I will ask Mrs. Ross first thing in the morning.  It is late and I do not wish to disturb her now,” said Susannah.  She looked at Catori’s telegram again.  “What possible ‘dangerous situation’ could Jack be talking about?” she wondered aloud.  “And what would conceivably motivate Jack and Mr. Cookson to journey all the way to England?”

             
“Something must be very wrong,” said Catori.  “It is disquieting,”

             
“I would have to agree, but without more information I do not know what the danger could possibly be.  What might he mean by it?”

             
“I do not know, but it sounds ominous.  That he also sent a telegram to me sounds doubly ominous.”

             
“We will see Mrs. Ross in the morning and all of this will be cleared up,” said Susannah.

             
“What would you suggest we do to be on our guard?” asked Catori.

             
“Oh I don’t know.  Don’t venture out alone?  Be more vigilant about locking doors?  Be alert for anything unusual?  Be wary of strangers?” suggested Susannah.  “Do you feel unsafe?” she asked, trying to read her thoughts.

             
“No.  But I admit to feeling uneasy.  I trust Mr. Simmons and also the detective he hired.  He would not have sent a warning to both of us if it was not warranted,” said Catori.

             
“But why would anyone want to harm me?  Harm us?” Susannah wondered aloud.  “I have never done harm to anyone that I am aware.”

             
“Of course not.  It makes no sense does it?” Catori agreed.

             
“Just when I thought my life was calming down…” Susannah sighed, “more worries present themselves.  If it’s not one thing, it’s ten things.”

             
“We are both tired and it is late.  I am sure Mrs. Ross will be able to clear things up in the morning,” said Catori, trying to put on a cheerful countenance.  The ladies made their way back up the stairs.  “Thank you for waiting up for me, Catori,” said Susannah. 

             
“What is a friend, if not someone who will face problems together with you,” Catori said.  “Good night, Susannah.”

             
“Good night.  And lock your door,” was Susannah’s advice.  But it seemed doubtful that their night would be
good
nor did it appear likely that either lady would enjoy a very restful sleep.

             
Catori returned to her bedchamber and prudently locked the door, but she did not immediately revisit her bed.  Susannah’s suggestions for facing the
dangerous situation
in Jack’s warning to them seemed logical enough, but in Catori’s estimation the ideas fell short of the mark.  To her way of thinking, preparing for an unnamed threat carried with it the need to defend oneself. 
Dangerous situation
seemed to imply that bodily injury was a distinct possibility.  That the detective was also traveling to England further convinced her that the matter was quite serious.  She understood that detective Cookson was a war-hardened military man after all. 

             
With this in mind, Catori entered the dressing room and opened her Saratoga trunk, rummaging through its contents.  In a few minutes she had what she was looking for – a hunting knife with a leather handle and a five-inch blade.  It was sheathed in a leather scabbard and had a strap attached, enabling it to be worn about the leg.  The knife was a gift from her Grandfather High Elk when she turned fourteen.  Over the course of several months, he patiently made certain that she learned full-well how to use it.  She tested the blade – it was fine enough.  In the morning she would begin carrying it on her person, secured to her leg and concealed beneath her dress.  Whatever danger lay ahead, she would be more prepared, and she would not go down without a fight.  At least that was what she told herself.  When put to the test, she wondered if she would have the stomach for it.

*****

              The next morning everyone woke up to a new year, 1877.  But the new day did not bring the resolution Susannah and Catori hoped for.  Mrs. Ross, the housekeeper, had indeed left the telegram on the hallway table before she retired for the evening.  By mid-morning each staff member, one by one, had been interviewed and the telegram was nowhere to be found.  The more Susannah and Catori reflected on it, the more perplexed they became.  Most disquieting was the realization that a telegram evidently meant to warn them of serious danger would conveniently vanish from within their very own household.  Was there someone right under their roof who meant them harm?  It was impossible for anyone to fathom such a scenario.  Lady Alice’s loyal staff was committed and devoted and had been with her at Larkspur for many years.

             
The missing telegram and discovering its whereabouts resulted in a very disruptive New Year’s Day at Larkspur.  Later that morning Lady Alice, Susannah and Catori all found themselves alone in the drawing room once more, their mood, sullen.

             
“We have been so preoccupied with the whereabouts of your telegram that I have had no news of your ball last evening, and I do so want to hear all about it,” complained Lady Alice.

             
“Oh, I am sorry Grandmamma,” Susannah apologized.  “You are right.  The ball was magnificent – there were so many people.  I danced nearly every dance.  Edward was a most attentive chaperone.  I indulged in three glasses of champagne!”

             
“Three!” repeated Lady Alice with a frown as Catori tried to stifle a giggle.

             
“Do not worry.  I did not bring shame upon the family,” Susannah teased.  “I conducted myself like a lady,” she added reassuringly, “and you may verify this with Lady Pomeroy.”

             
“Lady Pomeroy was there?” beamed Lady Alice.  “How is Mary?”

             
“Looking well.  She was chaperoning her granddaughters and told me she would call on you very soon,” said Susannah.

             
“I would love to see Lady Pomeroy.  And I am so glad you had a nice time.  Didn’t I tell you it was a good idea?  Now, about your telegram, I would venture to guess that your cook, Mrs. Sheppard or perhaps that nice man, Mr. Simmons, just wanted to wish you much happiness in the New Year, Susannah,” Lady Alice suggested.  “Why don’t you take a few minutes and write down short messages to them both.  I will have them taken to the telegraph office in Stoke-on-Trent by this afternoon.”

             
“Grandmamma, that is very kind, but we have not told you all,” admitted Susannah, as she looked at Catori.

             
Lady Alice’s face clouded.  “What do you mean?” she asked.  “What have you not told me?” she said, looking from one to the other.  “What is going on?”

             
Catori spoke up.  “Lady Alice,” she began, “there was
another
telegram, a second telegram.  It was sent to me from Mr. Simmons and delivered along with Susannah’s.  My telegram gave us only a hint of what was said in Susannah’s.  Nevertheless, my telegram warned us of a dangerous situation.”

             
“Yes,” said Susannah.  “And what is more, Mr. Simmons and the private detective he hired, Mr. Cookson, are now on their way here.”

             
“This is extraordinary!  They are coming here?  Here?  All the way to Larkspur from Denver?  Now?” said Lady Alice in disbelief.

             
“Yes,” said Catori.  “Evidently they left Denver today.”

             
“What is the
dangerous situation
?” asked Lady Alice.  “There is no danger here at Larkspur.”

             
“That is the part we do not know and cannot possibly know without the missing telegram.  Mr. Simmons was warning us of something, but we do not know what it is,” said Susannah.  “The fact remains that both men are on their way here and we must believe it is something very serious indeed.”

             
“What,
exactly
are Mr. Simmons and Mr. Cookson going to do when they get here?  Threaten someone?  Arrest someone?  Shoot someone?” demanded Lady Alice.

             
“Calm down, Grandmamma,” said Susannah.  “It does no good to speculate on this until we have more information.  We should be cautious, that’s all.”

             
“Well this is a fine beginning to a new year I’ll say that,” said Lady Alice sarcastically.  “Just perfect.  What do you say, Catori?  Am I a crusty old woman who is overreacting?”

             
“No, Lady Alice,” said Catori calmly.  “I think we have the strength and the intelligence to face any danger together.  The situation we are in reminds me of when you throw a stone into the lake.  The stone quickly sinks to the bottom and disappears.  What is left behind is a ripple on the still water.   The wrinkle continues outward until it is spent.  Our stillness has been disturbed by a missing telegram.  It will take time for the wrinkles it has caused to smooth out again.” 

*****

Back in Denver, the storm that came racing over the Continental Divide in the wee hours of New Year’s Eve, blanketed the city with fifteen inches of heavy snow.  It was unexpected; all activity came to a standstill, the city was paralyzed and folks were wise to remain indoors if they had any sense.  Jack Simmons and Daniel Cookson were left with no choice but to postpone their departure.  Another day lost.  Winter was a rotten time to travel.

              The next day the storm moved off.  Youngsters could be seen outside testing their sleds while older boys loudly engaged in wild snowball fights.  The clouds soon evaporated, the bright sunshine beat down and the wind that Simmons and Cookson were hoping for picked up.  The Indians called it the Chinook, or ‘snow eater’.  It was a warm wind from the west that would melt away all the snow almost as quickly as it had fallen.  The welcome Chinook is a hot wind that blows in winter and raises the temperature in a very short time.  The increase in temperature results in the rapid melting of snow, making prairie land available once again for grazing animals.