Deadly Proof: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery (35 page)

Jackson steadily took notes. He then asked, “Ever in trouble with the law?”

“Only some drunk and disorderly charges a few times at the end of a cattle drive.” Seth thought he heard Thompson make a sound behind him. Didn’t like not being able to see the man’s face.

“Tell me about your work on Saturday, when you came in, jobs you worked on, when you left?”

Seth brought his attention back to Jackson, wondering why the questions were about yesterday—not the day of Rashers’ murder. He gave him the details Jackson asked for.

“Was eight o’clock your usual quitting time?” Jackson asked.

“No, sir. I usually left at six. But I had permission from my foreman, Griggs, to work two extra hours since I might be late coming into work on Monday.”

“Why?”

“I am taking the entrance exams for the University of California Monday morning.”

Jackson looked up sharply at that point, and Seth thought he’d finally said something Jackson didn’t expect.

Jackson consulted some notes and said, “I understand your main responsibility is running the big steam-powered press. The Babcock?”

“Yes. I was hired specifically for that press, although I can run the smaller Gordon jobbers if need be.”

“And the Babcock, is that something you can run on your own?” Jackson continued.

“Can...but not easily. Usually my apprentice, Dunk, catches and stacks the paper as it is printed.”

“He worked with you last night?”

“Until six, which is when we both would normally end our shifts. But Griggs told him to go on home, he would catch for me until eight.” Seth stopped, chastising himself for volunteering unasked for information.

“And that is what happened?”

“Yes, sir. I left at eight.”

“What about Griggs?”

“I assumed he’d be right behind me, locking up.”

“And you went straight home? Didn’t come back for any reason?”

“No, sir.”

Seth felt a small sense of relief. Jackson was definitely focused on Rashers—which meant he wasn’t particularly concerned with what he’d done when he got home—or who he’d been with. He really couldn’t believe that Laura would have tried to get him in trouble...even if she’d later regretted what happened. But she could have confessed it all to Annie or her brother—and they might not have been so forgiving.

“Tell me about Orrie Childers. Was she working yesterday as well?”

Puzzled, Seth said, “Yes.”

“When you went out on a meal break around one, was it with Miss Childers?”

Seth shook his head in the negative, meanwhile wondering if all this was because Orrie had seen him meet Laura on his break and decided to get back at him. Maybe she accused him of stealing something. Wouldn’t put it past her.

Realizing he’d been quiet too long, he said, “No, sir. I believe she took her usual break at noon.”

“You believe? You aren’t sure?”

“I was pretty busy at that point, working on maintenance of the machine while Dunk took his break.”

“How would you describe your relationship with Miss Childers?”

“We both work at the same place.”

“You wouldn’t say you were particularly good friends?”

“No, sir.” Seth wanted desperately to ask what this was all about, but he bit his tongue.

Jackson leaned forward and said, “So you take all your co-workers out to dinner, do you?”

“No. I usually eat with my apprentice. Miss Childers joined me once—not at my invitation.”

“Really? You didn’t want to take a meal with a lovely young woman. Why is that, Mr. Timmons?”

Seth wanted to say,
none of your business,
but instead said, “Not interested, sir.”

“Ever been to her home?”

“No.”

“And tonight, you didn’t make an arrangement to see her back at Rashers?”

“Certainly not.” Seth wasn’t able to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“What time did you say you got home?”

“I left at eight, took the Clay Street car to Larkin, walked up to my place, got there about eight-twenty.” Seth flashed back on seeing Laura in the alley. Could Orrie have followed him home and this was all due to a spiteful desire on her part to get revenge?

Jackson flipped through the folder and pulled out a piece of paper that looked like it had been folded several times. He smoothed it out and handed it over to Seth and said, “Do you recognize this?”

The note read, “I need to see you at 11. Leave the shop door open.” It was signed, “Orrie.”

Seth shook his head. “No, sir.”

Jackson frowned and said, “Then I would like you to explain why we found this in your jacket this morning?”

Seth’s mind raced. It was hot yesterday, and he had removed his jacket and hung it on a peg near the back door. Did he remember Orrie going near it yesterday? Couldn’t say, but it would be easy for her to slip the note in his pocket. Why would she trust that he’d get the note? And what would he have done if he had?

“Didn’t see it, sir. Don’t know how it got there. But my jacket hung on a peg in the shop all day; anyone could have put it in there.”

“And you are saying you wouldn’t have seen the note?”

“Not unless it was in my inside pocket where I keep my smokes. Was that where it was?” He would bet it wasn’t there—because he would have noticed it then. And even if he had noticed it, would he have gone back? Then everything that happened last night with Laura wouldn’t have happened.

“Can you tell me why Miss Childers would write you a note or ask to see you back at Rashers at that time?”

“No, sir. Doesn’t make sense. Could have asked me in person if she needed to see me.”

It sounded more and more to Seth like Orrie was trying to get him in trouble.

Jackson leaned forward and said, “You don’t have any idea why she would want to see you?”

“No, sir. You’ve got to ask her.”

Jackson took up the object on the table and began to unwrap it. Looked to Seth like the large wrench from his tool box.

Jackson handed the tool to him and said, “Do you recognize this?”

“Well, it’s a wrench.”

“Look at it closely. Is it yours?”

“There are a couple in the shop. Don’t know that I could tell if it is the one I use from the tool box that stays next to the Babcock.”

Seth looked at the wrench, trying to remember if there were any particular scratches on it that might identify it. For some reason it looked rusty, which he knew wasn’t true of the one he used yesterday.

Jackson interrupted this thought by saying, “Where were you between the hours of ten and midnight last night?”

“At home.” He’d already answered that question—so clearly they didn’t believe him. He put his finger on the rust, not finding the gritty feel he expected.

“And is there anyone who can verify that?” Jackson’s voice was sharp.

Seth looked up at him and said, “Sir, is this blood? Is Orrie all right?”

“No, Mr. Timmons. She isn’t all right. And you didn’t answer me. Is there someone who can substantiate your claim you were at home between ten and twelve last night?”

Seth shook his head in the negative and didn’t say another word.

Sunday, evening, August 1, 1880

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“The register at the central station show the following as yesterday’s arrests...driving over street-crossing faster than a walk...”
San Francisco Chronicle
, July 1, 1880

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“H
ave Kitty and Ned gone already?” asked Annie, who was coming down the stairs just as Laura closed the front door.

“Yes. Even though Kitty’s exam isn’t until Tuesday, and Ned’s and mine are scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, we thought we all should get a good night’s sleep.”

“I think that is a excellent idea.” Putting her hand on Laura’s cheek, Annie said, “You do look exhausted, my dear. As Beatrice would say, you’ve been ‘lighting the candle at both ends,’ haven’t you? Shall I get Kathleen to bring you up some hot milk and honey? Help you go to sleep.”

“No, it’s still too warm. I probably shouldn’t have gone to the theatre Friday night when I had to get up so early on Saturday. Mostly it’s this odd weather. The dry heat and the wind have made it difficult for me to sleep—that’s all.”

Laura wondered if Annie’s comment about burning the candle meant Kathleen told her about how late she arrived back home last night, even though the young maid promised not to say anything.

When Laura crept into the kitchen a little after midnight, she found Kathleen standing at the kitchen sink, which had windows that overlooked the backyard. She said that she’d come into the kitchen for a glass of water when she heard something, but Laura suspected she’d been asked by Annie to wait up for her.

Since the kitchen windows were wide open, and Kathleen must have overheard her say good night to Seth, Laura felt she needed to explain that they had been up late studying, and he’d escorted her home. Her hope was that Kathleen would assume that he’d been bringing her from Kitty’s home, not his own.

Annie gave her a hug and said, “All right then, you go on up. Am I correct that you got permission to come in late to work tomorrow?”

“Yes, Mrs. Richmond said she was very pleased to think that one of her workers was going on to get a degree. So I will be able to do some last minute reviewing in the morning. I will try to get back to the WCPU by five. Iris said she didn’t mind sticking around the shop so I could get in at least three hours work tomorrow. I hate to lose a full day’s pay.”

As Laura climbed the stairs to her room, she wished she knew if Kathleen had told her mistress about Seth bringing her home. Her brother would kill her if he found out she’d been alone with Seth in his room for nearly four hours. While she’d always thought the rule that a man and a woman couldn’t be alone without the woman losing her reputation was stupid and archaic, Nate obviously didn’t agree. Not given how careful he was to keep the door to the parlor open when he visited Annie without someone else present, even after she became his fiancé. Laura could just imagine how he would feel about her visiting Seth...completely unchaperoned.

Yet, she now found herself wondering if there wasn’t a kernel of good sense to the rule. She remembered how she’d once told Annie how angry she was with her friend Hattie for letting a man upend all her hopes and plans. At the time, Annie tried to explain it wasn’t necessarily always the man’s fault. Laura didn’t believe her, then.

Last night, however, she had her first inkling of what all the fuss was about. She’d started out the evening focused on how to have an honest and mutual friendship with Seth. Then his lips on hers drove out all rational thought.

Well...it certainly was enlightening...and unsettling. But it was something she needed to work out for herself. Not just accept some old rule. And Seth’s friendship, so fragile and so recently won, was too important to throw away because she was frightened by how much she’d enjoyed his kisses. A definite conundrum. But her first step should be to make sure that what happened last night and the questions it raised didn’t interfere with her studies...or a good night’s sleep.

*****

T
en minutes later, Laura sat on her bed, trying to decide whether to study some more or go to sleep. It was, after all, only a little after eight o’clock in the evening, and she didn’t have to get up at first light. Maybe a cool bath would help. She’d planned on having one in the morning so she would be “fresh as a daisy,” as her mother would say, for her exam in the afternoon. She hated putting Kathleen to the bother since this would mean bringing up the hip bath and buckets of water tonight. However, tomorrow was wash day, so it really might be easier on Kathleen if she had the bath this evening.

She could tell how tired she was by how difficult she was finding it to decide. Bath or no bath? Then she heard a soft knock on the door, and she dragged herself off the bed to go and open it. Annie stood there with such an odd look on her face that Laura felt her heart speed up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dear, Patrick McGee is downstairs in the kitchen; he just got off duty. I didn’t want to disturb you. But I knew you would want to know what he said.”

“What...what’s happened?”

“As he was signing out, Patrick heard one of the other constables mention a murder at Rashers’ print shop, so of course his ears pricked up. Kathleen’s been keeping him up to date on Nate’s case, you know.”

“And? Has someone confessed to Rashers’ murder?”

“No. Someone else has been killed.”

Laura’s mind went temporarily blank, then it was filled with the image of Seth, pale in death.

She reached out towards Annie, who ushered towards her bed, saying, “Dear, I’m afraid from Patrick’s description that it might be Miss Childers.”

With a rush of relief, Laura took a deep breath, trying to make sense of what Annie was saying. “Miss Childers? She was killed? When...where?”

Sitting on the bed beside her, Annie said, “Patrick didn’t know all the details. Apparently she was murdered at the print shop last night, and darling, they have arrested Mr. Timmons.”

The idea of Seth killing Miss Childers was so absurd that Laura started to laugh. Then, seeing how serious Annie looked, she said, “I’m sorry, the news that someone killed Miss Childers is terrible, but the police simply have made a mistake—again. Just like they did with Mrs. Sullivan. You said she was murdered last night?”

“Patrick said she was seen entering the Niantic at ten o’clock last night, and the night porter found her body at midnight when he made his rounds.”

“Well see—there you are. Seth couldn’t have done it,” Laura said.

Annie gave her a hug and said, “I am sure you are right—as you say—this wouldn’t be the first time they have arrested someone who is innocent. But they have been searching his room and interviewing him all day...and Patrick says they are quite positive they have the evidence to prove he is the murderer.”

Laura shook her head vehemently. “No, no, you don’t understand. If she was killed last night between ten and midnight, Seth couldn’t have done it because he was with me all that time.”

*****