Kathleen Catches a Killer Page 4

  This time, Kathleen had a bad feeling about Rafe Ashburton, and she wasn’t going to rest until she was sure he wasn’t abusing his mother in some fashion.

  Chapter 6

  Wednesday evening, December 29, 1880

  Kathleen saw her breath in the cold night air and hoped her nose wasn’t turning an unbecoming shade of red. But she did feel snug and warm in her new navy-blue wool suit. The tight-fitting bodice of the basque-style overdress buttoned up right to her chin and went all the way down to the tips of her fingers, fitting over her waist and hips like a dream. And the underskirt, also of wool, was long enough to cover all but the tips of her toes but not drag in the street or get in the way of dancing.

  Even better, the style only had the slightest hint of fullness in the drapery at the back of the underskirt, which in her opinion looked better than the high bustles of two years ago. Miss Minnie and Millie Moffet, who made the dress for her, were always right up to date with their designs. She especially liked that the sky-blue velvet of the lapels, cuffs, and the ruffles on the underskirt matched the color of the light blue threads woven through the navy tweed. She was really going to miss the elderly Moffets if they moved out of the boarding house.

  The cameo pin Mrs. Dawson gave her for her birthday looked perfect against the blue velvet. And she was pretty sure Patrick had at least noticed her outfit was new, although he didn’t say anything beyond giving her a warm smile when she came into the kitchen to meet him tonight.

  As if he’d heard her thoughts, Patrick said, as he tucked her arm more firmly in his, “You’re looking real pretty tonight in that outfit. I especially like the hat. Ribbons match your eyes, and it doesn’t look like it’ll get in the way when I want a quick kiss.”

  He tested this theory, and Kathleen felt even warmer. They had walked down Taylor the four blocks to Market, then crossed onto Sixth, and in two blocks they would turn right onto Howard, where the restaurant, O’Shaughnessy’s, was located. They could have taken a horsecar, because the Central Rail ran right past this street, but she’d agreed with Patrick that on a fine clear night it made more sense to walk. She’d smiled to herself when he said that, knowing that he liked walking in this part of town because there were nice dark patches between the gas lamps south of Market. Perfect for “canoodling,” as one of the parlor maids she’d worked with would say.

  Kathleen pretended to protest against his familiarity but admitted to herself she was glad to have this short time alone with him. Soon they would be surrounded by other people, since Wednesday was a popular night at O’Shaughnessy’s, given that it was the traditional maid’s night out. She was also glad that Mary Margaret had turned her down when she suggested she come with them. Her friend said she was just too tired, and she had worked her heart out today making sure that the Steins’ bedroom and parlor suite would be ready for their return tomorrow. But Kathleen knew she was still upset by Mrs. Ashburton’s failure to show up at morning services and Davey’s story of the changed meat order.

  “Patrick, you’re certain Officer Stanley was going to stop by Mrs. Ashburton’s house this evening and that he’s going to come to O’Shaughnessy’s to let us know what he found out?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. He promised. He’s got his eye on some nursemaid who happens to frequent O’Shaughnessy’s on her night out, so he’ll be there.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m being a bother. I’m that worried about Mary Margaret is all. You won’t believe what she did this afternoon. She went to the pharmacy and bought the stomach medicine the doctor has prescribed for her mistress…using her own money. Then she took it to Mrs. Ashburton’s and banged on the kitchen door. When the son came, he wouldn’t even let her in. She demanded that she see her mistress so she could give her medicine, but he just said to leave the bottle on the doorstep and that if she ever showed up again he’d charge her with trespassing.”

  “Well, at least he took the medicine. Look, Kathleen, I can understand why she’s upset. But the truth of the matter is that the son is family. She’s not.”

  “I know. But that’s why it’s so important that Stanley checked up on Mrs. Ashburton. I don’t think Mary Margaret will seriously look for a new position until she’s sure her mistress is all right.”

  As they got near to O’Shaughnessy’s, they saw several couples waiting to go in, and Kathleen was startled to recognize a familiar profile. She pointed and said, “Oh, look, Patrick, there’s my brother Colin. Who’s the girl he’s got his arm around? He didn’t say a word at lunch on Sunday about being sweet on someone.”

  Ten minutes later, Kathleen and Patrick were installed at a small table near the back of the restaurant, and she made a joke about the fast retreat her brother made down Howard when he saw her coming. Patrick laughed and said there were plenty of places in the district where a good Irish lad could show a girl a good time; maybe he’d never intended on coming to this restaurant.

  She agreed but silently vowed to tease Colin the next time she saw him. Pay him back for all the times he’d made sly comments about her and Patrick.

  It was only a little after eight, and the restaurant hadn’t filled up yet, so before they knew it, their waitress came up to the table to take their order. She was a pretty blond with a good figure, and after Patrick gave her their order for oyster soup and grilled chops, she gave him a saucy wink and said if there were anything she could do for him to just give a shout.

  Patrick blushed, which caused Kathleen to squelch the sharp comment she’d been about to make. It was flattering to have another women flirt with her boyfriend. Also reminded her that she shouldn’t take him for granted.

  He thought his red hair and freckles made him look like a boy, one of the reasons he sported such a large mustache. He probably thought the girl was teasing him. Yet, as she watched him lean back in his chair to survey the crowd, she thought he was looking particularly handsome. Older somehow, the planes of his face sharper, like the long hours he’d been working had stripped him down to his core. With his derby pushed back on his head, a slight smile showing beneath his mustache, and his black coat open to reveal the holstered Colt that all officers were supposed to wear, even when off duty, he looked downright dangerous.

  Her heart beating uncomfortably fast, she said, “You didn’t tell me whether or not Sergeant Thompson got the two men you brought back from Auburn to tell him anything.”

  “When I checked in the station before going off duty, they hadn’t talked. Thompson thought he’d let them stew for another twenty-four hours. Give us time to find out more about Contreras and the other guy, also a Chilean. See if he can find information on any of their ‘known associates.’”

  “How will he do that?”

  “Contreras has been in trouble before, and we know that he spent some time in the local jail in Los Angeles five years ago. Sergeant Thompson mailed copies of photographs of both men to sheriffs throughout the region, to see if anyone recognizes them. If so, he’ll ask if anyone knows who their friends are––drinking buddies, guys who got picked up with them for petty crimes or shared jail cells with them. Sergeant Thompson always says solving crimes is like solving a puzzle. You’re not always sure where each piece fits, but if you keep adding pieces and moving things around, eventually you’ll begin to see the whole picture.”

  “That makes sense. Sort of what the mistress did that time I helped her investigate those trance mediums. They were in that house down on Harrison, not too far away from here. She found out as much as she could about all the people who went to the seances, while I snooped on the people who worked for the Framptons.”

  Kathleen had been proud of the help she’d been to Mrs. Dawson on that case. She just wished she’d been able to get more involved with Mrs. Dawson’s investigations this year. But recently her mistress had been caught up with legal cases Mr. Nate was working on or problems the people she gave financial advice to were having. Not exactly situations where Kathleen’s skills as a servant were very useful. Although sh
e did help her mistress search a room last month…and she’d been the one to find the box with all the important papers.

  “Did you hear me, Kathleen?” Patrick interrupted her thoughts. “The first real break in the case came late this afternoon. The Nevada City Bank finally admitted that Mr. Durbin, the man who was shot, was transporting over $4000 worth of $20 gold pieces.”

  “Oh Patrick, no wonder the poor man didn’t want to let go of his satchel.”

  “That’s not the half of it. The coins had just been minted here in San Francisco, 1881 liberty head, double eagles that are not supposed to be in circulation until next week. Thompson’s got all of us on patrol asking merchants to be on the look-out for these coins. Hard not to miss, they’d be shiny because they’ve never been used.”

  Kathleen gasped, “So you think the robbers might have come to San Francisco!”

  “We don’t know for sure. Initially, the local authorities up north thought the stage coach robbers might have gone into the Sierras. They could hold up in some cabin until there was a break in the weather before heading east. Then the Colfax train station master reported that two ‘suspicious-looking men’ bought tickets on the Central Pacific going east in the early morning hours after the robbery.”

  “But, Patrick, wouldn’t that mean San Francisco would be the last place to find them?”

  “But what if they didn’t get on that train? Colfax is a meal stop. Lots of people getting on and off, so there’s no way to prove the men who bought the tickets actually got on the train. In fact, Thompson thinks from the description the station master gave of the two men, they might have been Contreras and his partner.”

  “But they were found in Nevada City, weren’t they?” Kathleen was starting to get confused.

  “Yes, but what if the plan from the start was for Contreras and his partner to exchange horses with the robbers then head to Colfax and pretend to get on the east-bound train?”

  “Oh, that would have been very clever. You all would be concentrating on trying to find the robbers back east.”

  “That’s right. And we wouldn’t know that we weren’t finding any trace of them because they never were on that train.”

  Kathleen got excited and said, “I understand now. If they wanted everyone to think they went east, this would mean that they were probably staying somewhere out west.”

  “Yes. Thompson thinks if they aren’t just heading south to cross into Mexico, they would make their way to San Francisco. At least for the time being. It’s a lot easier to hide out in a city with over 200,000 people in it than a smaller town like Sacramento or Portland. And remember, they daren’t spend any of that gold until after the first of the new year.”

  “Oh, Patrick, they could get on a steamship and head out to the Sandwich Islands or China or something!” Kathleen thought about the life that $4000 in gold could buy you.

  Patrick laughed and said, “Well, if they think we’ll give up looking for them, they don’t know Chief Jackson and the San Francisco Police Department. The Chief once went all the way to New Orleans to track down a murderer, and I wouldn’t put it past him to go to the Sandwich Islands if need be.”

  Just as they were finishing their meal, Officer Stanley finally appeared and pulled up a chair to their table. He was a tall, thin, sandy-haired man with long droopy mustache, pale blue eyes, and an easy laugh.

  By the time he arrived, the restaurant had filled up, and a small band had started playing Irish tunes in the corner. One of the reasons O’Shaughnessy’s was so popular was the small raised dance floor at the back and the quality of their band. But the noise level had increased significantly, which meant Kathleen was forced to lean across the table to hear Stanley’s reply when she asked if he’d seen Mrs. Ashburton.

  “No, not the old lady herself, but I did meet the son. Seemed a decent enough fellow.”

  “That’s not the impression my friend Mary Margaret had, or the other people who’ve had an occasion to meet him,” Kathleen said angrily. Getting a sharp glance from Patrick, she moderated her tone and said, “I’m glad you stopped by, but I wondered what he said that left you with such a good opinion of him.”

  Stanley laughed and took off his hat and put it on the table in front of him, saying, “The man didn’t seem to feel the need to hide anything. I mean, when he first opened the door, he asked, sort of sharpish, if there was a problem.”

  When Kathleen started to comment, he cut her off. “Normal reaction most law-abiding citizens have when questioned by the police. Patrick will back me up on that. But when I told him I was the local copper, and I was stopping by to see how his mother was doing, he gave me a big smile and said something along the lines of ‘I bet that little maid asked you to call, nose all out of joint because Ma let her go.’”

  “Pretty close to the truth,” Patrick said. “What did you say?”

  “I just nodded and let the man give me his side of the story. He confided to me that his mother had a real puritan streak to her. Stickler for propriety. Said it was the reason he’d left home. Said he’d look sideways at the pretty parlormaid and his ma would get all upset.”

  Patrick looked over at Kathleen and said, “You did say the lady was a regular church-goer, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “And didn’t Mary Margaret tell you Mrs. Ashburton said the reason she was asking her to leave was it wasn’t respectable,” Patrick continued.

  “But what if the mother was afraid to say anything?” Kathleen countered. “Didn’t want to upset him? And if Officer Stanley didn’t actually see her, how do we know her son is treating her right? That’s what’s got Mary Margaret most upset…not the loss of her wages.”

  Stanley said, “I didn’t see her to speak to, but the son acted like he had nothing to hide. Invited me into the kitchen. Even offered me a beer, although he whispered that his mother would flay him alive if she knew he was drinking. Sounded to me like she had the upper hand.”

  “Didn’t you ask to see her?” Kathleen’s impatience with Stanley rose as she imagined him sitting there having a drink with the man, while poor Mrs. Ashburton hovered upstairs, too afraid to say anything that would upset her son.

  “I did indeed. He said she’d gone up to her room for the evening. He told me he’d fixed them both a hearty mid-day meal, and the mess of pots and such stacked in the kitchen sink certainly looked like he was telling the truth. He said she usually retired early, just had a light meal later on. Didn’t think she’d want to come down, but he’d ask her.”

  Patrick said, “Did Mary Margaret ever say if it was Mrs. Ashburton’s habit to retire that early?”

  Kathleen wished she’d asked Patrick to tell Stanley to go see the woman in the afternoon, because Patrick was right: Mary Margaret said Mrs. Ashburton usually spent evenings in her upstairs sitting room.

  Stanley didn’t even wait for her to reply, saying, “What he said seemed reasonable to me. But I didn’t want to leave it there. So when the son went upstairs to talk to his mother, I went to the foot of the back stairs. I heard him knock on her door, then speak with her for a few moments. And, as I expected, when he came back down, he said she apologized but that she would need to see me another time.”

  Kathleen said, “How do you know she really said that? Could you actually hear her words?”

  When he shrugged, she said, “So you basically took his word for what his mother said and just left.”

  “Actually, no, I didn’t just leave. I was about to go off duty, so I said yes to the beer. Fellow seemed glad of some male company. And I didn’t need to hear her words. Cause it was obvious he was reporting what she said. He offered me some fruitcake…said his mother told him to, that she always offered that ‘nice Mr. Stanley’ some fruitcake and a glass of water when he stopped by. Of course, I hate fruitcake, about as much as I hate water, but I always say yes. So you see, don’t you, how could her son have made that up?”

  Chapter 7

  Wednesday, late e
vening, December 29, 1880

  “Can I come in? I promise just for a minute, Kathleen,” Patrick said. “I know it’s late, but I really didn’t expect Stanley to hang around the rest of the evening. He wouldn’t take a hint.”

  Stanley couldn’t have done a better job of ruining the rest of what was supposed to be her special birthday dinner if he’d tried on purpose. But he wasn’t smart enough for that.

  First, right as Kathleen had begun to question him further about what he had learned while having a companionable beer with Rafe Ashburton, the man leapt up to accost a tall brunette who was entering the restaurant with friends. He practically sprinted across the room, neatly extracting her from the group of other young women and herding her over to their table, snagging a fourth chair on the way.

  He next made a big to-do about ordering dinner for himself and the girl, whose name was Lucinda. If they hadn’t already ordered dessert, Kathleen would have suggested to Patrick that they leave the table to Stanley and the girl, whose main distinguishing characteristics appeared to be a shy giggle and a willingness to let Stanley do all the talking. It took forever for the dessert to arrive and then to get the attention of the waitress so they could pay her.

  Now it was after ten, she was tired, but none of this was Patrick’s fault, so she said, “Would you mind if we sat out here under the apricot tree? I’m afraid Mary Margaret will be waiting up for me, which won’t give us any privacy at all. I’ll go in, get my shawl, and if she’s in the kitchen I will tell her to go on to bed, that I will be in shortly.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  She ran and unlocked the back door to the kitchen, and, sure enough, Mary Margaret was sitting in the rocking chair. After telling her that she’d be in soon to tell her about the evening, she snagged her shawl from the hook by the back door. She also took the time to light the lantern and bring it with her. She would need the light to go to the outhouse before she retired.