Kathleen Catches a Killer Read online

  Despite these differences, the past year the two boys had become fast friends.

  Dandy was Jamie’s small black and white terrier, who had made a bee-line for Kathleen as soon as he came in, as if he understood he needed to sweeten her up. He sat his skinny rump down in front of her, looked soulfully up with his large brown eyes, and lifted one of his front paws, clearly in supplication. Kathleen couldn’t help but laugh. Between his large erect ears, his ridiculously short muzzle that ended with a black button nose, and the blaze of white on his forehead, chest, and front paws, he really was an appealing animal. And everyone in the boarding house loved him…as he well knew.

  “Oh, Dandy, you scamp. Jamie, you can get him a treat from the jar, but then upstairs with you all. Before you start working on the train set, ask your mother if she would like me to send up a pot of tea. Ian, how was business today? Sell many papers?”

  “Oh sis, lots. Jamie and Dandy are a real help. People stop to pet Dandy, and I sing out the newest headline. Sold twice as many papers as usual. Seems like this week, people are still in the Christmas spirit!”

  “I expect you to share your earnings with Jamie. He’s a real friend to get up so early to help out.” Kathleen had worried when Jamie got up extra early Monday morning to meet her brother, afraid that Mrs. Hewitt would be upset, but she’d been as nice as could be and said it would be good for her son to see what real work was like.

  “Oh, Miss Kathleen, I don’t mind,” Jamie said. “And you will never guess who got his name in the Morning Call!”

  He pulled out a folded-up copy of the paper from his jacket and said, “Listen to this: ‘Sergeant Thompson, the San Francisco detective responsible for cracking the Gold Bank and Trust robbery last year, has gone up to Auburn to question two suspects in what is being called the Christmas Day Killing. He is accompanied by officer Patrick McGee, whose work in breaking up a shop-lifting ring has brought him to this paper’s notice.’ Isn’t that grand!”

  Ian, leaning over Jamie’s shoulder, said, “Patrick’s going to have a swelled head after this. Sis, I think it’s a shame you didn’t get mentioned since you’re the one who really broke the case, catching that man who was pocketing stuff.”

  Kathleen said, “Oh Ian, I just had a small part.”

  Mrs. O’Rourke said, “My heavens, Ian, your sister doesn’t need her name bandied about like that. No respectable woman wants to be in the papers…except in a marriage announcement.”

  Kathleen nodded her agreement, but she had to admit just the tiniest stab of regret. She always thought it wrong when her mistress solved crimes that left the police stumped, but no one could know about it. Seemed unfair. But Mrs. Dawson once told her all that mattered was that she never let other people’s opinions of what was respectable behavior for a woman keep her from doing what she knew was right.

  That made sense.

  At least Kathleen had the satisfaction of knowing that her brother looked up to her, and that was better than any brief mention of her name in the papers.

  Chapter 4

  Tuesday evening, December 28, 1880

  “I can’t believe how much I missed by going up to the ranch early,” Laura Dawson exclaimed. “But it was nice to be with Mother and Father for the few days before Christmas to help with all the preparations, including decorating the tree. Father even let me put up tinsel. And little Frankie was so excited by the whole idea of Santa and presents.”

  Kathleen always marveled at the family resemblance between Laura Dawson and her oldest brother Nate, despite the ten years in age between them. Both were tall and slender, with a sort of grace to how they moved. Her mistress said they both favored their mother’s looks and that Mr. Nate claimed his mother inherited her coloring from some ancestor with Shawnee blood. She guessed that might explain their high cheekbones and dark complexions. Thank the heavens, Miss Laura didn’t have her brother’s nose, which her mistress said made him look like a fierce bird of prey. No, Miss Laura had a perfectly ordinary nose and the sweetest smile. And a kind of enthusiasm that at times made her seem even younger than her twenty-one years.

  Kathleen was glad that Miss Laura had decided to continue to live in the boarding house this fall, despite the hour-long trip across the bay to Berkeley where she’d started attending the University. When her classes were over, she came back to the city and worked nearly six hours at her job as a typesetter. That’s why she usually ate leftovers in the kitchen when she got back to the boarding house.

  Kathleen handed her a cup of tea and placed a thick ham sandwich in front of her, knowing the young woman was always ravenous when she got home.

  “Oh, thank you so much. Mother packed me a lunch to eat on the train, knowing I was going straight to my job from the station, but that was a long, long time ago. My forewoman, Iris, said she was glad I was able to make it back to work today, because a lot of last-minute orders to print invitations came in yesterday. Evidently the huge rain storm on Christmas Eve caused a slew of canceled parties that have now been rescheduled for New Year’s Eve.”

  Mrs. O’Rourke, who was busy punching down the dough for the morning rolls, said, “Were your family pleased by our Annie’s good news?”

  “Oh they certainly were, although my other brother, Billy, teased Nate unmercifully. But that’s just his way. Billy’s wife, Violet, wasn’t as excited as I expected, given all her previous platitudes about what a woman’s proper role in life should be. Maybe she was feeling out of sorts because of her pregnancy. She’s only in her seventh month, but she’s huge. Do you think it’s possible she might be carrying twins?”

  “Well, our Annie did say that Mr. Nate’s brother wants a large family, so if that proves to be true, he’ll be happy,” Mrs. O’Rourke replied.

  Laura laughed and said, “Billy will be insufferable if that’s the case!” In a more serious tone, she said, “Mother told me she’s worried that Violet isn’t taking good enough care of herself. First becoming pregnant again, so soon after the birth of little Frankie, then the whole bother over her brother and then her mother’s shenanigans. Must say, I’ve begun to feel sorry for Violet. Can you imagine if she does have twins? Then she’d have three children under the age of three.”

  Ever since Kathleen learned that Mrs. O’Rourke wasn’t able to have children, she felt uncomfortable when the subject of babies came up around her. Consequently, she decided to shift the conversation to a different topic. She said, “I was glad that the mistress and your brother decided to stay at the ranch for a few more days. They needed the break after everything that happened this past month. But I was looking forward to getting some advice from them.”

  Laura sat up and said, “What about? Anything I can do to help?”

  “Well, miss, you see, I’m concerned that something bad might be happening to one of our neighbors, Mrs. Ashburton, the woman who lives two blocks away on Eddy.”

  Kathleen went on to tell her about the arrival of Mrs. Ashburton’s son Rafe and how he’d thrown her friend Mary Margaret out of the house Sunday night. She added that Mary Margaret was convinced that the son wasn’t taking good enough care of her former mistress.

  “My goodness gracious,” Laura said when Kathleen finished. “And where is this Mary Margaret now?”

  “She’s back in my room, asleep. Mrs. O’Rourke said she could stay, at least until Mr. and Mrs. Dawson return. She’s been a big help this week with all the cleaning Mrs. O’Rourke wants done. You don’t think your brother and mistress will mind, do you? I was hoping that Mrs. Dawson might be able to write her a reference if Mary Margaret can’t get one from Mrs. Ashburton.”

  “Of course Annie and Nate won’t mind. And I am sure they will be glad to help out. She doesn’t have any family in town?”

  “No, she came to America from Ireland when she was thirteen. She traveled west with some distant cousin, who got her the job with Mrs. Ashburton and promptly disappeared. That was ten years ago.”

  “Well, she’s got a good friend i
n you. Maybe the son will figure out soon enough he needs some help with his mother. If not, I’m sure Mary Margaret will be able to find a new position. But you seemed to think Mrs. Ashburton herself was in danger. What did you mean?”

  “Well, Miss Laura, I don’t know that she’s exactly in danger,” Kathleen said. “Mary Margaret says her mistress…her former mistress…isn’t all that healthy. She suffers terribly from pain in her lower back and legs and has a very delicate digestive system. My friend is worried that the son isn’t taking care of her. Particularly after what we learned from Davey, the butcher’s delivery boy.”

  “The butcher boy?”

  “Yes, Davey is a bit of a gossip, and when he saw that Mary Margaret was here this afternoon, he asked her if Mrs. Ashburton was away, maybe visiting family.”

  “Why did he think that?”

  “He said that when he stopped by to deliver the usual order yesterday, a strange man answered the door. Said he didn’t want the chicken, but to bring him some prime steaks and an order of pork chops instead. Also asked which grocery nearby delivered.”

  Laura frowned and said, “I don’t see why this has your friend upset. It stands to reason a full-grown man might want different food than a frail old lady.”

  “When Mrs. O’Rourke said the same thing, Mary Margaret told me it would be one thing if he had added to the usual order. But the only meat that Mrs. Ashburton can stomach is chicken or beef broth. She says there was only enough chicken left in the house to make it through until today. So what she wanted to know is what’s Mrs. Ashburton going to eat for the rest of the week?”

  Chapter 5

  Wednesday, mid-morning, December 29, 1880

  Kathleen knelt down and began to sweep the pine needles into a pile. The decorated Christmas tree was splendid, but with each passing day, it dropped more needles onto the carpet. Because Miss Laura had requested that they keep the tree up until after New Year’s Day, Kathleen had been working hard to keep the tree well watered, even if that meant bringing up a heavy bucket of water every morning to pour into the sand at the base of the tree, and keeping the needles swept up so they wouldn’t be tracked into the rest of the house.

  To make matters more difficult, the ends of the needles were often sticky, which then began to attract soot from the fireplace. Fortunately, Kathleen had discovered that once she removed the previous day’s needles, hot water and vinegar did a good job of spot cleaning.

  She thought the work to maintain the tree well worth it when the boarders, who gathered in the parlor after dinner every evening, remarked how much they enjoyed the smell of pine, the soft glow of the candles, and the festive air the tree provided. Last evening, Jamie actually wondered out loud why they didn’t have a tree indoors year round, prompting genial laughter from the adults.

  Except when she was cleaning up the needles and replacing the candles, Kathleen rather agreed with him. The tree was even beautiful in the day, the bright-colored ornaments and the glass angel at the top of the tree catching the weak sunlight that came in the front windows.

  Yet the work it caused did give her one more reason to be glad that Mary Margaret was staying with them this week. Her willingness to help out with chores had been a godsend. They’d even been able to let little Tilly work shorter hours so she could be at home to help supervise her numerous cousins during the school holidays.

  “Sweetheart, I’m quite sure Aunt Bea wouldn’t have sent me up to see you if she thought I would catch you in such an un-ladylike position.”

  Kathleen scrambled up from the floor, smoothing down her skirts and saying tartly, “Officer Patrick McGee, a true gentleman would have made some noise to alert the lady of his approach and never let on he’d seen a thing.” She went over and drew him into the parlor and gave him a warm hug, surprised at how relieved she felt to see him back safe and sound from his trip.

  Noticing he was back in uniform, she said, “When did you get home?”

  “Last night, and then we had to settle the two men in the jail before I could go off duty.”

  “Oh, Patrick. You got the killers?”

  A look of disappointment swept over Patrick’s face, and he said, “No, looks like they aren’t the men. Leastways, they were able to prove their whereabouts for the time of the actual robbery. Busy playing the roulette wheel at a local gambling house in Auburn. Lots of eyewitnesses, including the Auburn sheriff.”

  “Oh dear, then why did you bring them back with you?”

  “Sergeant Thompson thinks that even if they didn’t do the actual robbery, it’s possible they might be ‘accessories after the fact.’”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Means they could have been in on it. Thompson thinks it’s real suspicious they were found the next day with the horses that one of the witnesses said the robbers had been riding.”

  “How would the witness know that? I mean, the horses would have to have some really special markings, wouldn’t they?” Kathleen had never ridden a horse, but when she was growing up, her brothers always went on and on about the different…breeds. Which ones were good for racing, which for pulling large loads, how you could tell one kind from another.

  Patrick smiled and tweaked one of her curls, saying, “The witness was a hostler in Nevada City, with a good eye for horse flesh. He said the markings on both of the horses were pretty distinctive. He was right annoyed that the bandits had made him hand over a good silver watch that his folks had just given him as a Christmas present that morning. So he paid special attention to the horses, since the robbers wore hoods over their faces.”

  “And Sergeant Thompson thinks this proves these men were involved somehow?” Kathleen knew her brother Ian and Jamie Hewitt would love to hear all these details.

  “He thinks so, given that, in addition to the horses, when they were arrested up in Nevada City, they had over three hundred dollars in cash on them, plus some pretty fancy timepieces.”

  “And Thompson thinks they got all this from the robbers?”

  “It’s a good bet they did—since that’s about the amount of cash the robbers got from the stage coach passengers. Unfortunately, neither of the watches they had was the hostler’s watch, which had an inscription engraved on it.”

  “What did these two men have to say for themselves?”

  “Said they’d headed up north from Auburn to Nevada City on Sunday to try their luck at the gambling houses there, and they found the horses running around free outside of the city. Said they won the cash in a private poker game. But since Thompson can detain Contreras on the outstanding warrant, he decided to follow his original plan. Bring them both to San Francisco, warn them that if he can get one of the passengers to identify the watches they had on them, he can charge them with dealing in stolen goods. He’s hoping if they sit in jail for a few days, they might decide to tell us who the real robbers are.”

  “Oh, how clever. And you’re going to help question them?”

  “Hope so, but I’ve got to go now. I just wanted to let you know I was back in town and will be back here by eight tonight to take you out to celebrate your birthday.”

  He started to pull her close for a kiss, but she put her hand out to stop him, saying, “Patrick, before you go, I need to ask if you could do something for me. I didn’t have a chance to tell you on Monday, but you know my friend Mary Margaret? Well, the son of the woman she works for showed up out of the blue on Sunday, turned her off without notice, and now we’re both worried he’s up to no good.”

  When she started to explain exactly what had happened, he interrupted her, saying, “Look, why don’t you tell me all about it tonight? I’ve got to get to work. Thompson was nice enough to tell me I could start late today, but I don’t want to push it.”

  “But I think there’s something fishy about this man. Mary Margaret said he had a bad reputation when he was young, and his father threw him out of the house twelve years ago. Now she’s worried he isn’t taking good care of his mother. At th
e very least, he didn’t take her to morning services today. And she always goes.”

  “Kathleen, the son’s only been there…what’s it been? Four days? From what you just said, doesn’t sound like he would be much of a church-goer, and I can’t see that the woman missing church on a weekday is anything to worry about.”

  As she started to tell him about what the butcher boy had said yesterday, Patrick again interrupted her, this time with irritation. “Oh Davey, well, why didn’t you tell me he was the source of your information? Of course that must prove there is something wrong!”

  Kathleen felt a flash of anger, then she remembered that Patrick saw Davey as a rival for her affections. Remembered as well that at one time she sort of encouraged Patrick in that idea, even if it had never been true. So she swallowed her sharp words and said quietly, “Please, Patrick, all I want you to do is ask Officer Stanley to look in on Mrs. Ashburton, make sure she seems all right. Let the son know someone is looking out for her.”

  Patrick looked relieved and said, “Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’ll certainly let Stanley know he should stop by. Checking on the people on our beat is part of our job, so I’m sure he will try to look in on her later today or tomorrow morning. Now, I’m off, but I’ll see you tonight, and I promise I want to know everything that’s been going on with you.”

  He gave her swift kiss and then left the parlor, heading to the back stairs where she knew he’d take the time to say good-bye to his aunt.

  She wished she believed he’d convey the seriousness of her concerns to Stanley. Their neighborhood patrolman was a nice man, kind and courteous, but he’d never impressed her as having much ambition, or imagination for that matter. Not like her Patrick. Patrick had been the one who’d acted on the bad feeling Jamie’s ma had about a neighbor once and that time Patrick and Sergeant Thompson caught a killer.