CHAPTER
16

I’m glad you agreed to see me,” Henry said, showing Patrick Murdock into his office. “Have a seat, and I’ll get right to the point.” He reached over and turned on his desk lamp.

Patrick did as Henry instructed, unbuttoning his coat as he took a seat. “For sure I wish ye would. My sister isn’t well, and I don’t like leavin’ her to the care of others.” His tone was curt, and it was clear he didn’t want to be here.

“It’s about the work you were doing for Caleb.” Henry could see Patrick’s eyes widen just a bit as his right brow raised. Henry held up the book from Caleb’s desk. “I found this ledger. It’s filled with notes, most of them in code, but others not. I surmised from what I read here that Caleb hired you to help him investigate something to do with Abraham Ruef.”

For a moment, Henry wasn’t sure Patrick would admit his involvement, but then the large Irishman shrugged. “Half the honest men in San Francisco are doing that. ’Tis no secret Ruef needs to be taken to task for what he’s done.”

“True, but why the secrecy?”

“Well, protesting Ruef’s actions in public only served to have me thrown in jail for a murder I didn’t commit. Caleb and I agreed secrecy was the way to go about it.”

“To what end?”

Patrick fixed his gaze on a spot somewhere over Henry’s head. “I don’t suppose it could hurt anythin’ to tell ye that much. Caleb promised to help me reclaim my family business and home by provin’ Ruef had my father murdered.”

Henry leaned back in his leather chair. “So it was a personal matter?”

“Aye.”

“And that’s all there was to it?”

Patrick’s expression suggested he was carefully considering his reply. Henry didn’t know why he should be hesitant unless he was intending to lie.

“The truth, Mr. Murdock. You owe that much to Caleb.”

The large Irishman’s expression changed from passive to angry. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t be tellin’ me what I owe Caleb Coulter. I know full well what I’m owin’ him. But yerself, on the other hand, I do not owe. In fact, I don’t even know but what ye were part of Caleb goin’ missin’.”

“How dare you accuse me? I had nothing to do with Caleb’s disappearance. I cared for him like a son.” Henry yanked open a drawer and pulled out a set of papers that had been carefully folded together. “I had this drawn up just before Caleb went missing.” He threw the papers at Patrick and waited until he’d opened them. “I made Caleb a legal partner in this practice.”

Patrick scanned the pages, then refolded them and handed them back to Henry. “I meant no offense, but ye have to admit that everyone is suspect. I know ye look at me in the same way, but I’m tellin’ ye I’m not to blame. I suppose now I must be allowin’ that ye’re not to blame either.”

“Well, that’s good of you to offer me that much.” Henry threw the papers back in his open drawer, then slammed it shut. “Now, will you please tell me what you know?”

Patrick scratched his bearded chin. “Aye. Helpin’ me was the start of things, but the more we dug for proof, the more incriminatin’ evidence we uncovered.”

“Incriminating evidence of what?”

“Of the underhanded devilry bein’ done by Ruef. Caleb started talking to folks who were sufferin’ because of Ruef. Then he and I made records of everything we had, but I haven’t any idea where those records are now.”

“Well, as I said, I found a ledger of notes.”

“But there was a stack of papers with proof of bribes and fees paid to Ruef. I know, because I stole them from his residence.”

“You stole them?” Henry was surprised at the casual way Patrick admitted to this.

“Aye. ’Tis no shame to steal from the devil.”

“And now those papers are gone?”

Patrick shook his head. “I don’t know what’s happened to them. Caleb had them, and I figured him to have them hidden in a safe place. But ye haven’t found ’em here, I’m guessin’, and Camri hasn’t found them at Caleb’s house. Caleb’s study at the house was ransacked. It could be those papers were found and retaken.”

“It’s possible.” Henry rubbed his chin. “What of the ten thousand dollars?”

“Money Ruef gave Caleb.”

“For what?” Henry leaned forward so quickly that he sent several pens flying off his desk.

Patrick retrieved the pens and handed them back to Henry. He settled back in his chair, acting almost as if he hadn’t heard the question.

“Well?” Henry pressed.

“Ruef wanted Caleb to work for him. Not to leave yer place here, but just help on the side. He gave him the money just after the trial concluded. See, before the trial, Caleb had a talkin’ with Ruef about me and the charges. Somewhere in the conversation, Caleb mentioned powerful allies he had made back east, men in the government and such, and apparently in the tellin’ of it, Ruef decided it’d be to his advantage to get Caleb on his side. After that, things began changin’, and next thing I know, I’ve been found innocent.

“Of course, Ruef made it clear that this had happened by his good graces. He told Caleb that he would see to it that I was thrown back in jail if he refused to help Ruef. Caleb pointed out that I’d been found innocent and couldn’t be standin’ trial again for the murder, but Ruef said that wasn’t any trouble. He’d simply have me charged with a new murder. Caleb agreed to take the money and consider the proposition. Ruef told him he had a few days to decide. When those days were up, he came to Caleb for his answer.”

“And Caleb agreed to work for him?”

“In a fashion. Caleb and I discussed it and figured it would be one way to get evidence that would clear my name once and for all. Caleb never intended to keep the money, but rather use it as proof of Ruef’s bribery. He said Ruef had handled the money himself and had left his fingerprints on it. Caleb said the court didn’t allow fingerprints as evidence against folks yet, but the day was comin’, and he intended to hurry it along if possible by usin’ it to see Ruef imprisoned.”

Henry sighed. “I feared it might be something like that. I’ve had someone looking into the matter, and he told me there was some evidence pointing to Caleb working for Ruef.”

“He would never have worked for the man in the sense of helpin’ him do his dirty deeds,” Patrick threw out. “He was only seekin’ to help me, and now he may well be dead.”

“Do you understand the code he wrote in his ledgers?”

“No. I cannot help ye with that.”

“Very well. I have only one more question. What do you think happened to Caleb?”

Patrick looked toward the ceiling. “For sure it can’t be good. I haven’t been able to find out anythin’, and I have friends in all the places that might prove helpful.”

“Camrianne said you were continuing to look for Caleb. That you would help her with her search.”

“And so I will. I’ve got my suspicions, but nothin’ yet to be talkin’ about. When I know somethin’ more, I’ll be tellin’ her.”

“Perhaps it would be better to just tell me. She’s already very upset.”

“Aye, and well she should be, but I’m not completely sure I can trust ye, even if ye were meanin’ to make Caleb a partner.”

Henry felt his anger rise. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve told ye what I have because ye already knew that I’d been workin’ for Caleb. But I don’t know ye well enough to trust ye with everythin’.”

“If you know more—more that will aid in locating Caleb—then you must tell me.” Henry slapped his hands on the desk, sending the same pens skittering to the floor.

This time Patrick didn’t bother to retrieve them and instead got to his feet. “I don’t feel obligated to ye, Mr. Ambrewster. My loyalty is to Caleb and then to his sister. I’ll be biddin’ ye good-night.” He headed for the door, then turned. “I don’t mean to be tellin’ ye your business, but I’d be puttin’ that ledger somewhere safe where no one else could be gettin’ to it. Could be someone will come lookin’ for it.”

With that he left, and Henry could only sit, staring at the door. He’d never anticipated Murdock’s distrust. After all, it was his office that had taken care of all their business dealings. It was by his willingness that Caleb had represented Patrick in court. How could Murdock doubt that Henry was just as eager to find Caleb as he was?

Henry picked up the ledger and turned it over and over. Murdock made a good point regarding the book, however. He needed to make sure it remained safe. He got up, thinking to put it in his wall safe where he’d put the ten thousand dollars, then changed his mind. He walked to the bookcase and moved a bookend that held his prized first edition commentaries by Blackstone. The set had been a gift from his wife a decade earlier. The ledger was about the same size and very nearly the same outer binding as the other volumes. At a glance, no one would notice the book wasn’t a part of the set.

He put the ledger between the commentaries, then re-secured the bookend. He stood back to survey the shelf. It looked good enough to fool most prying eyes.

He’d no sooner done this and returned to his desk, however, than he heard someone enter the outer office. Perhaps Murdock had come back to apologize.

But when the door opened, it wasn’t Murdock. Instead a seedy-looking character entered with a revolver pointed at Henry’s midsection.

“I’ve come to get the goods Coulter had on the boss,” the man growled.

Henry shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What boss? What goods? Do I represent his company?” He gave the pretense of checking his appointment book. “I don’t have anything in my book that suggests we were to meet this evening.”

The man crossed the distance from the door to the desk in three long strides. He leaned across the desk and pressed the gun into Henry’s chest. “Don’t play dumb with me. Boss Ruef says your boy Coulter was looking to ruin him. Your boy has some sort of evidence, and the boss wants it back.”

“If my employee took something from Mr. Ruef, how should I know about it? Coulter’s been missing since the end of August. It’s now December. Whatever papers Mr. Ruef is seeking are most likely with Mr. Coulter. And I have no clue where he might be.”

The man grunted and without warning hit Henry against the temple with his gun. The pain was intense, and for a moment Henry saw stars.

“The boss said to tell you that if you don’t hand the papers over, along with his money, then I can kill you.”

Henry found himself hoping Patrick Murdock might return for some reason. The big Irishman was intimidating and would no doubt strike a bit of fear into the smaller thug.

“Where is it?” the man demanded.

“I don’t know.” Henry put his hand to his head and pulled it away sticky with blood. He stared at his hand for a moment. Would this man really kill him? “Tell me something.” Henry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hand. “Did your boss kill Caleb Coulter?”

The thug grinned and shrugged. “He ain’t telling me if he did. But then, I know better than to stick my nose into business what ain’t mine. What is my business, is that you give me what I came for.”

“But I don’t have it. Look around my office if you don’t believe me.” Henry remembered what Patrick had said about Caleb’s office being ransacked. “Tear it to pieces like you did Coulter’s study at home.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll give it a good going-over after I give one to you.” He came around the desk and yanked Henry to his feet.

Dizzy from the blow to his head, Henry fought to remain upright. “You can do what you will, but I honestly do not know where your boss’s papers are. I’ve never seen them and didn’t even know they existed until tonight.”

The hoodlum punched Henry in the stomach. The blow knocked the wind out of him, and Henry’s knees buckled. For the oddest reason, he found himself thinking of a conversation he’d had with Caleb shortly after he’d come to work for him. Henry had found Caleb reading his Bible over lunch and asked him why.

“Because I want to know God,” Caleb had said, smiling. “That way, when I go to meet Him, there won’t be any doubt in my mind as to who He is. And in the meantime, I’ll be able to tell other folks about Him so they can know Him too.”

Caleb’s faith had helped Henry come back from his dark despair over losing his wife. It had helped put Henry back on a more positive path. He’d returned to church not long after that and from time to time shared Caleb’s noontime Bible study.

Henry looked up to find the man once again pointing his revolver. “This is your last chance, old man. Give me those papers and the money.”

Strangely enough, a peace washed over Henry, and a smile came to his lips. “I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

Patrick arrived home to find Liam sitting by the door of his apartment. “And why would ye be waitin’ out here?”

Liam got to his feet and dusted off his threadbare pants. “Your landlady said Ophelia was sleepin’. I didn’t want to bother her, knowin’ that she’s sick.”

Patrick nodded. “’Twas considerate of ye, but come on inside.” He unlocked the door and ushered Liam in. “Just let me go check on her, and I’ll be back.”

He tossed aside his hat and coat and made his way to the bedroom. Someone had lit the bedside lamp and turned it low. Patrick could see his sister’s pale face in the glow. For a moment he feared she was gone, but her ragged breathing told him otherwise. He turned from the room, leaving the door open in case she called to him.

Liam stood beside the window, looking out into the night. “Were ye workin’ late?”

“No. I was called to a meetin’ with Caleb Coulter’s employer. ’Twas rather strange, to be sure. I’ve never really known if I could trust him.”

“’Tis a hard thing to know who can be trusted in this town.”

“Aye.” Patrick eyed his friend. “But for sure ye didn’t come all this way to be talkin’ about that.”

Liam chuckled. “No, for sure I didn’t. Ye need to go see Malcolm Daniels at his dance hall. My friend’s brother, Sean Gallagher, will introduce ye. Daniels is looking for a few strong-armed men to keep his customers in line. Sean’s brother Bert said there was a ruckus that ended with a couple of Daniels’ trusted men being killed, so he’s lookin’ to replace ’em.”

“When am I supposed to go around?”

“Tonight wouldn’t hurt none.”

Patrick glanced at the clock. “’Tis nearly eight o’clock. I suppose I could go. I hate leavin’ Ophelia again, but I know she’ll understand. She wants Caleb to be found as much as I do.”

“I’ll walk ye part of the way,” Liam offered. “It’s on me way home.”

“Let me go speak to Ophelia first, and then we can go.”

Patrick went back to the bedroom and pulled up a chair he kept for just such talks. “Ophelia, darlin’, wake up.”

She stirred but didn’t open her eyes.

Patrick put his hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle shake. “Ophelia.”

This time she opened her eyes, and when she realized who called to her, she smiled. “Paddy, ’tis good to see ye.” Her voice was but a whisper.

“I have to go again, but I wanted to talk with ye first. I have to check somethin’ out, and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Is it about Caleb?”

“Aye. I’ve had some word from Liam. He’s got me a possible job at the place where Caleb was last known to go.”

Ophelia nodded. “Then ye must be about it. I’ll wait up for ye.”

“No, ye need to sleep.”

She smiled and reached out to touch Patrick’s hand. “I’ll not be needin’ it much longer. Now go on with ye and find our Caleb.”

Patrick covered her hand with his. He didn’t want to leave her. The doctor had already said she could go at any time. Her heart was weak and her lungs congested. She didn’t even have the strength to cough, and the pain that coursed through her body was evident in her pale blue eyes.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He lifted her hand to his cheek.

“I’ll be here,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“See that ye are.” He let go of her hand and tucked her arm back under the covers.

Sorrow threatened to hold him in place, but Patrick knew he had to leave—had to see Daniels. He hated the very idea of working in such a vile place, but if there was even a remote chance of finding Caleb, then he had to try.