Friday evening, March 10, 1882
O’Farrell Street Boardinghouse
Annie lay her daughter down in her crib and looked over at her poor, tired husband and smiled.
“She should sleep right through the night now. At the very least, we should have a quiet few hours until we go to bed. I’m sorry she gave you such a hard time. But I’m glad you listened to Mrs. Stein’s advice. It’s so easy at this point for Abigail to get off schedule.”
Annie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Nate look so desperate as when she had entered the nursery an hour ago. The operation that Caro Sutton had observed went a little long, so Annie hadn’t arrived home until about five-thirty. Only a half-hour later than planned, but she knew from experience that thirty minutes felt like hours with a cranky baby.
Abigail had been so tired, she’d had trouble nursing at first. Once she did get some sustenance in her, she perked up enough so that Annie was able to get the peas and carrots into her, too, while Nate regaled her with the story of his failure to feed or placate their daughter. One lullaby later, Abigail fell sound asleep.
While Annie got a perverse pleasure in how difficult Nate had found the whole experience, she was also proud of him for not dumping the problem on Beatrice or Tilly or even on one of the boarders. Barbara Hewitt would certainly have taken over the task of tending Abigail if Nate had asked.
She hugged Nate and whispered, “Let’s go down and join the boarders for dinner. They should be just starting to eat. That will make things easier on Tilly.”
As they went down the stairs, the front doorbell rang, and Tilly scurried out from the dining room to open the door, revealing Sergeant Thompson on the doorstep.
Annie turned to Nate and said, “Did you know he was coming? I wonder if he’s eaten supper yet?”
They soon learned that the sergeant hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he accepted her invitation to join them and the boarders with alacrity. Her already high opinion of him rose significantly as she observed how kindly he handled the three children’s questions about a local bank robbery that had happened earlier in the week and his patience with the ten-minute monolog by the elderly dressmaker, Miss Minnie Moffet, about a Thompson she and her sister had known in their youth.
Once dinner was over, Nate, Annie, and Sergeant Thompson moved to the study, where Tilly promised to bring them some tea and slices of the lemon cake.
Thompson said, “Thank you so much, Mrs. Dawson, for feeding me. Between the bank robbery those clever children asked about and the investigation into Dr. Granger’s death, it’s been a very busy day. But I did want to tell you where we are with both the Granger case and the anonymous letters to the press, which I am increasingly inclined to believe might be connected.”
Nate said, “Really? Why?”
“Dr. Skerry seems the key. Woman’s tied up with so many aspects of both cases. Not that I’m saying she killed Granger, just that I can’t swear she isn’t involved in some fashion. The more I learn about her, the more she seems like a born troublemaker.”
Annie nodded, glad to see he was coming to the same conclusion she was coming to…and wondered if Thompson had run across any evidence that Dr. Skerry had dealings with Argenta Branting.
Nate said, “We know she played a role in turning Richard Truscott against both the dispensary and Dr. Granger. Did the letters Annie gave you help you determine who sent the anonymous notes to the press? I assume you saw the articles that showed up in the Bulletin yesterday?”
“Yes, the letters were a big help. According to our handwriting expert, the first letter sent to the Chronicle was most likely penned by Mr. Truscott, based on a comparison of that letter to the letters he sent to the dispensary.”
“Oh dear,” Annie said. “His wife is going to be really upset to learn that. What about the second letter to the Chronicle?”
“Unfortunately, that particular letter and the ones sent to the Evening Bulletin were made on one of those new infernal ‘type-writers.’ However, the expert says the words used and phrasing all match those written in the hand-penned one.”
Annie wondered if you could tell what specific type-writing machine was used, the way you could sometimes determine what printer had been used…something Annie had learned about working on a former case.
She said, “So either these letters were composed by the same person or they were copied from a common text. How would Richard get hold of a type-writer? My sister-in-law’s seen one demonstrated, but it was my understanding that there weren’t a lot around. Just at telegraph offices and a few businesses. Although I suppose he might have access to one at his father’s company.”
Annie told Thompson about what she’d learned about Truscott’s speculation in stocks and inheriting shares in the Rogers, Meyers, and Truscott company. She repeated what Dr. Blair had told her about the threats directed at Dr. Granger by Richard Truscott on Monday, the day before he was killed.
“That’s useful,” Thompson said. “Now that we’ve a link between Truscott and the letters, I have a reason to question him about his relationship with Granger, find out if he has an alibi for the night Granger died. Before now, there wasn’t any good cause to do so.”
“According to Dr. Blair’s account, Dr. Skerry was at this same meeting, and she also said something about the ‘world soon knowing’ about Dr. Granger’s corruption. Do you know if she’s got an alibi?”
“We haven’t spoken to her yet, either. I may need to talk to Dr. Blair again, get a fuller accounting of this meeting before I track down Skerry. Interestingly, we do know that Dr. Skerry has access to a type-writer.”
Nate said, “Why am I not surprised? She puts out a journal, so a type-writer would be useful. I bet that the medical college where Dr. Granger and his son work has one as well. Like the telephone, I believe that in a couple of years, any place that handles a lot of correspondence and day-to-day meetings is going to have both.”
Thompson said, “I agree. Although the telephone system they’ve set up in police headquarters isn’t always that useful, since most of the people I want to talk to aren’t connected to the system. But it’s sure been a help now that a line is hooked up between the new police offices, the old city hall jail, and the various courts.”
Annie broke in, “How do you know Dr. Skerry has access to a type-writer?”
“Because the fellow I talked to at the Bulletin said that she’s always sending them letters to the editor on one or another of her hobby-horses, and they’re always typed. He also said that the anonymous letters about the dispensary reminded him a good deal of those other letters. Interestingly, one of the anonymous letters to the Bulletin specifically mentioned Granger as behind these ‘illegal’ operations the letters mentioned.”
Nate said, “So there’s another connection between the letters and Granger’s death.”
Annie said, “I wondered if you’d found any possible intersections between Dr. Skerry and Charlie McFadyn?”
“I did follow up on your mention that Skerry’s brother is active in Democratic party politics, and while there are some rumors that he’s done some work for Boss Buckley, there isn’t anything concrete about a connection between Skerry and McFadyn. But I’m not ruling that out.”
Nate said, “What about the girl who Dr. Blair thinks was the one who let the woman into the dispensary, the one who tried to get Hilda to leave with her? Any chance you can prove her connection to McFadyn?”
Thompson said, “We are definitely looking for Brenda Halstrom. We don’t have any address for her or any information about family in town. To my mind, there’s little doubt she was the one who let the woman in, and from everyone’s description, I’m pretty sure the woman who showed up was Tessa Wheeler, one of McFadyn’s fancy women. But there’s been no sign of her in her usual haunts. Made herself scarce, possibly hiding Brenda.”
“Did you interview McFadyn?” Nate asked.
“Yes, and he just smiled and said he didn’t know what we were talking about, never heard of Brenda or Tessa. Yet he looked nervous when I asked him what he was doing Tuesday night, the night Granger was murdered. A man like that, though, he could have been up to anything that night, knocking heads for Buckley, sussing out that bank that got robbed. When I followed up by asking if he had any dealings with Dr. Granger, he looked confused. Then said he’d never heard of the man, which was hard to believe, given the murder was all over the papers.”
“Kathleen, my maid, spent some time alone with Hilda today. I’m hoping the girl was more frank with her; maybe she’ll come up with a lead you can follow. Unfortunately, tonight’s her night out, so I won’t hear anything until tomorrow.”
“Miss Hennessey’s out with young Patrick McGee, I suppose?” Thompson grinned. “I wondered why he was so anxious to end his shift on time. Normally, he’d be hanging around the station to see if he could help out with the investigation into the bank robbery.”
Annie knew that it wasn’t always possible for Kathleen and Patrick to coordinate their evenings off, so she didn’t expect her maid back early. She said, “If Kathleen learned anything useful, I’ll send word. Who else have you interviewed?”
“Granger’s two nurses, his colleagues at the Medical College of the Pacific, and his three children. Everyone pretty much said the same thing, what a good doctor and caring man he was. A saint. Pretty normal at the start of a murder investigation. Though, I’ll say, usually someone by this point has hinted that the victim has some dark secret. Lots of times, these hints don’t turn out to have any basis. The person is just seeking attention. Other times, well, these hints can lead to something.”
Nate said, “Have you been able to narrow the time of death?”
“Dr. Blatch is pretty confident he died early in the evening, based on when he had lunch and how far along the food had traveled in his digestive system. This strengthens our supposition it was either his seven-thirty patient or someone who came to the office soon after that patient left. But that doesn’t narrow the field of suspects much.”
“Is there any reason to suspect the man’s children?” Annie asked, thinking about Nellie and Lydia’s odd hesitation when they mentioned their brother’s relationship with his father.
“Not the daughters, their movements are accounted for all evening. But the son was alone in his office from five on, until he went to the dispensary to help with the birth of Miss Putki’s baby. He arrived there at nine-thirty. Thing is the telegraph office says their boy delivered the telegram Dr. Blair sent at a little before eight. Why the delay in him getting it?”
“You think he wasn’t in his office?” Nate said.
“He says he was, just didn’t hear the boy ring the bell. Hard to believe, given those messengers are pretty determined to be heard so they have a chance of getting a tip. And it looks like the son has more than most to gain by his father’s death. The oldest daughter inherits the house, and the three children split the rest of his monetary assets, which aren’t all that much. But Granger’s colleagues at the medical college said that his son will most likely be able to take over his father’s practice, if he wishes, and step into his shoes as dean of the medical college. This would mean a significant increase in salary.”
Annie nodded. This would explain why she sensed some concern from Lydia and Nellie about how their brother’s interview with the police had gone. But they’d also been worried over the possibility that the police were focusing on the morning nurse’s son. So she said, “Last time you made it clear that the afternoon nurse had an alibi; what about Granger’s other nurse?”
“Freddy Tobin?” Thompson sounded surprised. Then he laughed. “Mrs. Dawson, you’ve been talking to the daughters, haven’t you?”
Annie felt her cheeks redden. “They did come to see me last night. They were concerned that, because this young man had difficulties in the past, the police would concentrate on him to the exclusion of others. I assured them that this wasn’t your way of doing things.”
“Well, you can tell them that as far as Tobin is concerned, he’s pretty much off the hook. His employer vouched for him, and he has a rather hefty bank account—saving up so he can marry this summer. In addition, if Blatch is right about the time of death, both Tobin and his mother were seen sitting in their parlor, playing dominoes, all evening. Nosy neighbor walking their dog, got to love them!”
Annie felt a wave of relief on behalf of this young man she’d never met. But it was time to confess to Thompson what she’d promised to do for Granger’s daughters.
“Sergeant, when Lydia and Nellie Granger came by to see me, it wasn’t just to express concern about Freddy Tobin. They also wanted to ask me to do something that they hope will expose a possible motive for their father’s murder.”
Thompson stared steadily at Annie and said, “Something? They didn’t possibly ask you to do your own investigation, did they? You know how Chief Jackson feels about amateurs, even talented amateurs such as yourself.”
Annie stared steadily back and said, “I know. But I think what they have asked me to do may actually help, and I don’t see that it will interfere in any fashion with any of the steps you are taking. You see, it turns out their father was working on a memoir. Their grief is still too raw for them to read it themselves. Nevertheless, they felt that there might be a clue in it of some conflict their father had with someone, a conflict that might be motive for murder.”
Thompson frowned, and Annie went on hurriedly, saying, “I told them I would need to tell you about the existence of this memoir.”
There was a long pause, and Annie continued, “Don’t tell me you or one of your men have the time to spend parsing through hundreds of pages of minute details about the doctor’s entire life this weekend? I do have the time, and if I read anything I think might be relevant, I will tell you.”
“Relevant?” Thompson said. “And just how are you going to judge that?”
“What you’ve told me tonight will help. For example, I can be looking for any mention of this Tessa Wheeler who came to get Hilda. And I can see if there were any other confrontations between Dr. Skerry and Dr. Granger, apart from the conflict over her application for membership to the California Medical Society.”
“And Granger’s son? You’d tell me if you found anything about him?”
“Yes, I would. I can assure you I will follow any leads. Someone killed a good man. I won’t hesitate to notify you right away if I find anything that might help you untangle this mess.”
“Even if it might hurt the reputation of the Pacific Dispensary?”
Without hesitation, Annie said, “Even if it might hurt their reputation.”
Annie felt herself being judged by the sergeant, but he’d been right to question her. There had been cases when investigations she and Nate had been involved in had not led to arrests—in order to preserve certain reputations. But that had never been their decision alone, but that of their clients, and even, sometimes, the police.
And those decisions had never led to a murderer going free and unpunished.
She just hoped for the sake of Jocko and all the people the dispensary served that there wouldn’t be any conflict between finding Dr. Granger’s murderer and keeping the dispensary open for business.