Saturday morning, March 11, 1882
Pacific Dispensary for Women and Children
Annie made it to the dispensary by a little before ten, although it had meant she had to weather Mrs. Stein’s frown when she asked if Mrs. Stein could watch Abigail until it was time for Kathleen to put her down for her morning nap.
Megs, the downstairs maid who’d let her into the dispensary, told her that Dr. Blair was downstairs seeing patients and Dr. Brown was doing rounds with the matron, Mrs. McClellan. Annie supposed that Phoebe may have planned that this meeting would happen when all these women were otherwise engaged. Probably smart to have this first conversation between husband and wife without the complications of any of the dispensary staff being present.
As Annie passed through the reception room to the office, she saw that the volunteer, Miss Keene, was telling a small group of women about the mission of the dispensary before leading them on a tour. Everything seemed so peaceful, as if none of the events of the past two weeks had happened.
Joan Carpenter appeared with her mistress at the door of the office, giving Annie a brusque good day and then saying that she would wait by the dispensary front door for Mr. Truscott to arrive.
After Joan left, Phoebe said, breathlessly, “I’m so glad you were able to make it. Dr. Blair said she would attend me if you didn’t come. But Richard’s been so dismissive of Dr. Blair that I thought it better for her not to be here. And you know all my particulars and can reassure him about the dispensary. I don’t know why I am so nervous.”
“Mrs. Truscott, you may be nervous, but you look radiantly healthy. Do sit down. There’s no reason for you to tire yourself out needlessly.”
This was the first time Annie had seen Phoebe Truscott out of a dressing gown. The rich color of the dark raspberry silk she was wearing brought out the different shades of rose in her lips and cheeks.
Phoebe smiled shyly at Annie’s compliment and sat down quickly in the chair by the fireplace. She then said, “I hope that seeing me will finally end Richard’s fears about my decision to come to the dispensary. I could tell from his letters that he thought that I might have been saying how much better I felt because I didn’t want to worry him.”
Annie hated to add to the young woman’s nervousness, but she really felt she needed to tell her before he showed up about the evidence that her husband had written one of the letters to the newspapers. She just wished she’d cleared this with Thompson first. But she didn’t know last night that she would be speaking with Phoebe this morning.
She said, “Phoebe, before your husband comes, I need to tell you that Sergeant Thompson has shared with me the results of his investigation into the letters that have started showing up at local newspapers. I know Dr. Blair told you about these and the way they are attempting to damage the reputation of the Pacific Dispensary.”
Phoebe said, “Yes, and I overheard two of the nurses say that not just the Chronicle but the Bulletin seems to have been getting these letters. Such a shame. Why would someone do that? And the police are investigating?”
“Yes, and it seems there is some evidence that Dr. Skerry…”
“Dr. Skerry, I knew it! She has been behind everything. Turning Richard against the dispensary, making me ill…”
“That could be true, but I need to tell you…”
Annie stopped as Phoebe stood up in response to the sound of Joan’s voice and that of two others.
She cried out, “Oh, no, Mrs. Dawson, he’s brought Aunt Ruby with him. I specifically told him not to do so.”
A handsome young man hurried into the room.
“Darling, let me look at you! I’ve missed you so dreadfully,” he said, his dark brown eyes filled with concern and his hands outstretched towards his wife.
Annie could certainly see why Phoebe had seen Richard Truscott as her Prince Charming. His thick black hair framed a high forehead, his expressive eyes did nothing to detract from a mobile mouth with a well-trimmed mustache. He was exquisitely dressed in a sharply tailored suit, his top hat held in one hand and a dark ebony cane in the other. He threw these accessories down onto the top of the office desk so that he could place his hands gently on Phoebe’s shoulders as he looked her up and down.
His wife blushed and said, “You see, I’m doing quite well. Everyone here has been so solicitous of my welfare.”
“As they should be, given that they are the ones responsible for your ill health.”
Annie saw that this comment had come from a white-haired woman, whose age and matronly figure pretty much assured her this was Richard’s Aunt Ruby. Trying to give the young couple a moment to speak alone, Annie stepped over to the woman to introduce herself.
She said, “Good morning. I’m Mrs. Dawson, and might I presume that you are Miss Prentise, Mr. Truscott’s aunt?”
With a frown and a quick assenting nod, Miss Prentise moved quickly around Annie so she could stand next to where her nephew stood smiling down at his wife. She said more loudly, “Richard, stand aside. Let me see how our sweet girl is really doing.”
The older woman scrutinized Phoebe closely, peering into her eyes, pinching her cheek lightly, and then clucking over the fact that Phoebe hadn’t yet gained all her weight back. Annie could tell how this comment embarrassed Phoebe, and the young woman murmured something about how the doctors felt she should be careful about how much she ate at any one meal.
“Humph. You know that Dr. Skerry said the same thing, and she will be glad to know that her treatment of you has been so beneficial. But we really must get you home before the people here undo all her good work.”
Phoebe said softly, “Aunt Ruby, I know you mean well, but I must disagree. Dr. Skerry’s medicine was not responsible for my recovery. In fact, I believe that her treatment may very well have been responsible for my illness. It’s Dr. Blair and the nurses here who have brought me back to health, just as they did after my operation.”
“Foolish girl. I can see…”
Richard broke in hurriedly. “Now, Aunt Ruby, you promised not to argue with Phoebe. You must admit that she does look well, much better than she did a week ago.”
Ruby Prentise took a visible breath and said, “Yes, yes, Richard. You’re right.” She took one of Phoebe’s hands and squeezed it. “My dear, please forgive me. I’ve been so worried about you. Seeing how hard the past few years have been on you…and Richard.”
Phoebe said, haltingly, “I know you’ve been worried, Aunt Ruby. I also know how much I owe you for all you have done for me. But I need to start to take responsibility for my own life, make my own decisions. That’s why I can’t expect you to shoulder all the tasks of running the house anymore. I know I will make mistakes, but I count on you to help me. Help me become the wife Richard deserves.”
Patting Phoebe on the cheek, the older woman said, “Oh, my dear Phoebe, what an idea! There you go, barely able to stand, and all you can think about is me. Richard, why have you kept your wife standing?”
Miss Prentise turned to Annie and said, “I don’t believe I caught what your position is here, but would you be able to go with Mrs. Truscott’s maid and help her pack up her things? We will be taking her home with us today.”
Phoebe, who’d started to sit down, sprang back up and said, “No, Aunt Ruby, I’m not coming home today. Richard, that’s not why I invited you to come. I wanted you to see I am on the mend. But I’ve been on a restricted diet, and Dr. Blair wants me to progress very slowly to regular food under their supervision. As you know, Richard, from when I recuperated from surgery, the cook here is excellent.”
“As is our cook,” Richard’s aunt exclaimed. “I can’t believe you would blame her for your weak digestive system, Phoebe.”
Richard Truscott winced and turned to his wife to say, “I really do wish you would come home today. I’m sure the staff here can give you detailed instructions for our cook to follow.”
His aunt pulled at her nephew’s coat and said, “They are just trying to keep her here so they can get more money from her. Tell her, Richard, tell her how the so-called consulting doctors get paid to refer people, and the doctors will always recommend the most expensive cure, whether it is warranted or not.”
Phoebe said, her voice shaking, “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand here and listen to you repeat such falsehoods, Aunt Ruby. Mrs. Dawson has been hired by the dispensary to do their annual audit. That’s why I invited her to speak to you, Richard.”
Phoebe turned to Annie and said, “Mrs. Dawson, tell him what you told me about the dispensary’s finances. About how the consulting doctors, like that dear man, Dr. Granger, don’t get any sort of fee for referrals. Richard, they don’t even charge anything for the consultations they provide.”
Annie said quickly, “Mrs. Truscott is correct. I’ve been thoroughly through the dispensary books for this year and looked at their files for the past few years. I can assure you that all the work provided by the attending and consulting physicians is for free, what one calls pro bono, their form of charitable contributions. And the resident physician, nurses, and other staff get paid primarily in room and board.”
Richard glared at her and said, “What about the hefty fees they charged, are still charging my wife?”
Annie said, “Those fees that patients do pay are used to cover the cost of providing free care in the dispensary, six days a week, and they also cover the costs of providing care in the hospital and maternity wards for the charity cases. This is not a profit-making institution, but a charitable one. No one is making money from it. Even the pharmacists are only charging at cost for the supplies and prescriptions the dispensary orders.”
Phoebe said, “Richard, why are you so worried about those charges? Are we really in such dire financial straits that you can’t afford for me to stay here, where I can get the best care?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. Of course I want the best care for you. I simply want you home, with me, as soon as possible, and Dr. Skerry…”
“Oh, don’t talk to me about Dr. Skerry, Richard. I assume she got paid handsomely for her services, but I would bet she didn’t then donate those fees to a charity!”
“Phoebe, calm yourself. You’ll make yourself sick,” Miss Prentise said. “You don’t know what you are saying, maligning Dr. Skerry in that fashion.”
Annie worried that Phoebe’s high color meant that she, indeed, was over-exerting herself. She started to suggest that Mr. Truscott and his aunt should leave when Phoebe shook her finger at her husband’s aunt.
She said, “Maligning Dr. Skerry! I’ll have you know that the police are looking into a series of anonymous letters, filled with lies and slander, that have been sent to local newspapers. And the person they believe who is behind those letters is your precious Dr. Skerry. Who knows what such a hate-filled person might be capable of?”
Richard opened and then shut his mouth in shock, giving the impression of someone who had just discovered that a helpless kitten was, in fact, a snarling tiger.
Phoebe looked equally shocked at what she’d said, breaking into tears.
Before Richard Truscott could take a step towards his wife, his aunt grabbed his elbow and said, “Richard, I believe that your wife is over-wrought. Just exactly what I feared. I think we need to leave her to come to her senses. Now come, I need you to take me home, this instant; I don’t know when I’ve ever been so upset.”
Miss Prentise turned and rapidly left the room.
Richard Truscott looked helplessly at his wife then ran to catch up with his aunt.
Annie came over, putting her arm around Phoebe, urging the weeping young woman to sit down. Joan, who had been standing quietly just inside the office doorway this whole time, came over and offered Phoebe a handkerchief before disappearing into the reception room for a few moments, reappearing with a glass of water.
As her mistress mopped her tears then took a large sip of water, Joan said in her calm, matter-of-fact voice, “They’ve gone, thank goodness. I told you his aunt would never let him come alone. She’s too jealous.”
Phoebe sighed and said, “Mrs. Dawson, I apologize for putting you through such a scene. I couldn’t take one more lecture by Aunt Ruby about how excitable I am and how if I would only follow Dr. Skerry’s instructions, everything would be all right.”
Annie took her hand and said, “No need to apologize. I think you were quite splendid in standing up for yourself. I know from experience how hard that is. I was never able to do it with my first husband’s relatives. His mother, in particular, quite cowed me. I was lucky to get out a squeaky ‘yes, ma’am,’ when I was in her presence.”
This got a smile from Phoebe and a pleased nod from Joan, who said, “Listen to Mrs. Dawson. I was proud of you, as well. Miss Prentise is not used to anyone contradicting her. I worry so about you going back home until the master is willing to assert himself with his aunt.”
Phoebe said, “I know. And I’m sorry, Mrs. Dawson, if I wasn’t supposed to mention that the police are investigating Mrs. Skerry as the possible author of the letters. It made me so mad for Aunt Ruby to say such things about the good people of the dispensary that I felt I had to speak.”
Annie said, “I quite understand. However, it’s a bit awkward because they arrived before I had a chance to tell you that the police also believe your husband may have been responsible for writing at least the first letter that went to the Chronicle. It seems the handwriting and wording in that letter matched the letter he sent to the dispensary saying he wasn’t going to pay the fees owed them.”
“Oh, no, why would Richard do such a thing?” Phoebe put her hand up to her cheek, looking aghast.
“The police don’t know for sure that he did write the letter, because handwriting analysis isn’t exact. But I do believe that Sergeant Thompson plans on questioning your husband about this.”
Joan said quietly, “Mrs. Dawson, do you have any idea why he would have written a letter like that?”
“After today, it seems very possible to me that he might have done it to please his aunt. She obviously puts great faith in Dr. Skerry. She could have asked Miss Prentise to get Mr. Truscott to write the letter. We do know that Dr. Skerry has a reputation for attacking her enemies through the press. If it’s any consolation, Mrs. Truscott, he probably didn’t write the subsequent letters.”
“But how can I trust him, knowing this? Knowing he’s so weak that he would let himself be pushed into defaming the dispensary and its staff by someone like Dr. Skerry? Knowing he will always take his aunt’s word over mine? No, Joan’s right, I can’t go home again until he can prove to me that, once and for all, he’ll take my side. Otherwise, I don’t see how I can have a future with him.”