Bloody Lessons (17 page)

Read Bloody Lessons Online

Authors: M. Louisa Locke

Annie just laughed at him.

Chapter Twenty-two

Tuesday evening, January 27, 1880

 

"Thomas H. Reynolds had examined a note-book which contained the acknowledged handwriting of defendant, and after comparisons with the anonymous letters, concludes form his experience as an expert that the chirography of the note-book and letters was identically the same."––
San Francisco Chronicle
, 1879

 

Annie had been to Nate’s law offices on Sansome Street in the financial district once before, and that had been the day after she met him for the first time. Sitting in the dark in the hansom cab that took her swiftly up Market, she remembered how confused she’d felt on that visit. Grieving over the death of Matthew Voss, frightened for her economic future, and puzzled by the strange attraction she’d felt for this young man who could be so infuriating and so kind in the time it took for her heart to beat.

Tonight
, she was confused again but not about her feelings for Nate Dawson. She was confused because of the letter he’d sent her asking her to come to his office this evening to attend a meeting with Mr. Emory and Mrs. Anderson. This was odd enough, since she had no idea what explanation he would give these two people for her presence at the meeting. Even more puzzling, however, was his request that she come to the meeting early because he had something of a "delicate nature" he wanted to ask her. As she’d read the letter, she’d gotten the absurd notion that he was planning on renewing his marriage proposal. Then she’d immediately thought,
At a business meeting? Surely not.
But she couldn’t get the idea out of her mind.

The cab slowed to a stop, and Annie handed the fare to the cabbie through the hatch before alighting. Kathleen had wanted to accompany her. But it was Tuesday, ironing day, and even with the help of the washerwoman and the part-time maid, Tilly, Annie knew that Kathleen would be completely done in by the evening. She had insisted she was perfectly safe taking a cab by herself. She even kept her irritation to herself when her motherly boarder, Mrs. Stein, tut-tutted about how unsafe the streets could be at night. She recognized this was the price she was paying for having frightened them all when she went off on her own a few months earlier. And there was Nate, as promised, waiting outside the building to escort her up to the second-story offices. She would have to be sure to report his gallantry to her friends when she got back home.

As they climbed the stairs, Nate told her that the new Superintendent of Schools had gotten another anonymous letter, again accusing the vice principal of Girls' High, Thomas Hoffmann, of colluding with Emory to hire Mrs. Anderson. However, this time the letter went on to suggest that Hoffmann was guilty of having "immoral relations" with a student.

Annie said that she thought this certainly suggested that the anonymous notes to Hattie were part of a broader smear campaign, and she asked if Nate had told Emory about the notes they had found among Hattie’s correspondence.

“I told him I had evidence that another teacher had been targeted but that I couldn’t reveal the details. Emory reiterated that he hasn’t gotten anything directly, but I did want to ask Mrs. Anderson tonight, see how she reacts.”

Annie paused as they reached the second floor landing and said, “Nate, we need to see the letter that was sent to the Superintendent of Schools, see if it bears any resemblance to the hand-writing of the notes sent to Hattie. What do you know about this Vice Principal?”

“Only that Emory says Hoffmann is well-respected, and he’s held the position at Girls' High under Swett for five years.”

They were now at the law offices, and Annie pointed to the name of the firm in the center of the door. “Oh look,
Hobbes, Cranston, and Dawson.
I don’t remember you having your name up here when I came the first time. I guess your Uncle Frank has actually started to treat you as an equal partner.”

Nate chuckled, and as he unlocked the door he said, “I wouldn’t go that far.” The reception room was as tiny as she remembered but neater. According to Nate, the business that Cranston brought into the firm meant they now had enough income for an additional clerk. They also had expanded into the adjoining offices, which provided rooms for the clerks and Cranston, while Nate inherited the deceased partner’s office for himself.

As he turned up the gaslights, he mumbled something about leaving the outer door open for the others. She sighed.
Once again he is trying to protect my reputation
.
Maybe it would have been easier to just bring Kathleen with me.
Nate brought out extra chairs and put them around the table on one side of the room. Obviously, they were not going to go into his office. She was rather disappointed, having hoped to see what it looked like.

She broke the silence, saying, “How did Emory find out about this newest letter?”

“He’s pretty friendly with one of the Republican board members, and Vanderling, that’s the friend’s name, was able to persuade Superintendent Taylor to hand the letter over to him for investigation. I am hoping Emory will be able to bring it with him, and that’s why I asked you to bring Hattie’s notes with you. But before they get here, I have to ask a favor of you, and you must promise me you will say no if you don’t want to do this. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to agree at all.”

Annie’s heart began to beat faster, and she could feel her cheeks get hot.

Nate continued, “Turns out my uncle took it upon himself to tell Emory about the work you did investigating Voss’s death and the Framptons. As a result, Emory asked me to invite you to this meeting so he could ask you to help us in trying to figure out who is behind these anonymous accusations. He has some scheme he wants to lay out for you tonight, but I didn’t want you to feel ambushed when he asks. I am really sorry, Annie. I tried to explain to Uncle Frank how unhappy you would be to know he had spoken to Emory without asking your permission.”

Later, Annie would have to examine more closely her sharp disappointment that the proposition of a
delicate nature
was not a proposal of marriage. But right now, her overwhelming emotion was glee that she was going to get a chance to work on another investigation with Nate. She didn’t want to appear too eager, however, or Nate might rescind the offer, so she kept her voice as moderated as possible when she responded, saying, “I am sure your uncle meant well, and I am honored by the faith he has in me. Of course I would like to help out in any way I can, although I reserve judgment until I have heard exactly what Emory’s ‘scheme’ is. But thank you, Nate, for giving me a chance to think about it all ahead of time. And, by the noise I am hearing, I think that the rest of the members of this meeting have arrived.”

Annie couldn’t help but notice the look on Nate’s face, like she had turned into a coiled rattlesnake, and she thought,
Oh, how well he knows me. I suspect he will rue the day he asked me to get formally involved in this little enterprise
.

*****


It was actually Tom Hoffmann’s idea,” Irving Emory said. “Naturally, when I told him about the letters and the accusations against him, he was very concerned. I assumed that this was all part of a political attack against me, but now, with both Dottie Anderson and Tom Hoffmann being implicated, it looks more like the source of the trouble might be found at Girls' High itself. We were trying to figure out how Dawson here could come to the school and nose around without causing too much suspicion. Hoffmann mentioned it was too bad that Dawson couldn’t pretend to be a teacher when it occurred to me that, if Frank Hobbes is correct, Mrs. Fuller would be perfect for the job.”

When Nate had introduced Emory to Annie, she wasn’t surprised to see an older, well-tailored, well-barbered man of wealth who’d probably moved with ease from running his business to running the city. The fact that he owned the City of Hills Distillery would have helped because
saloon keepers tended to run the ward elections for both parties.

Emory continued. “So, young lady, do you by any chance know the basics of bookkeeping?”

Annie, taken aback by the question, was curious about how much Frank Hobbes had shared about her history, including her unorthodox education in the fine points of finance and her current work as Madam Sibyl. She said, “Actually, I’m very familiar. My father used
Mayhew’s Practical Book of Book-Keeping
to instruct me, and, while I have never run a large company, I do use the double entry system for keeping track of my boarding house business.”

Mr. Emory beamed at her, saying, “Splendid! Splendid!
Deerhurst, one of the new board members, has a ‘bee in his bonnet’ about the need for all young men and women to be instructed in the basics of accounting. As a result, Tom had already volunteered to include a series of lessons on the subject as part of his math classes, and I do believe he is using
Mayhew’s
text. The principal, Swett, is going out of town for several weeks, and Tom will taking over some of Swett’s senior classes in philosophy, so he was already looking for someone to substitute in some of his math classes. You can be that substitute, and while you are there, you can do a little detecting for us without anyone being the wiser.”

Annie got a better appreciation for Mr. Emory’s talents as a politician as he effectively swept away any problems she or Nate brought up with this little “scheme.” She would have to teach only two classes a week, from 2-3 p.m. on Wednesday and Friday afternoons, although she could come as early in the afternoon as she wanted and stay until five when the school was locked up. She would be able to use Hoffmann’s office to meet with students, and, since his office contained the personnel files, she would also be able to look through those files for possible motives among unhappy staff members. She would get paid, not just for the teaching but also for any investigating she did, and, finally, she could stop whenever she felt she had collected all the information she possibly could at the high school.

Since late afternoon was Madam Sibyl’s least busy time––the women had to get home to prepare for dinner and the men weren’t yet ready to leave their offices––she wouldn’t lose much revenue and might actually come out ahead, depending on how much she made in the investigation. One positive outcome would be that they would no longer need to ask Barbara to gossip about her colleagues. Annie had never tried to teach anyone anything, and that was the most frightening part of the whole plan, but she knew Laura and Barbara would help her design her lessons.

“Oh, Mr. Dawson, you shouldn’t let the boy pester you so,” the musical tones of Mrs. Anderson broke into her thoughts. While Annie and Emory had been talking, Nate had gone into his office to compare the letters Emory had been able to bring with him to the notes that Hattie had received. But now he had returned and was sitting at the end of the table with Mrs.
Dorthea Anderson, whom Emory called affectionately Dot. Nate had placed her four-year-old son, Jack, on his knee and was doing a bit of “This is the way the ladies ride” with him.

Mrs. Anderson looked exactly the way Annie had imagined she would from Nate’s description. She was what was commonly called a “fine figure of a woman.” She’d blushed very prettily when Nate introduced her, and she was batting her wide-set cornflower blue eyes quite charmingly at him now. She also had gotten very teary when Nate questioned her about getting any nasty letters, inanely repeating that she couldn’t imagine who would be so mean as to impugn her good name or to suggest that Mr. Emory or Mr. Hoffmann had behaved improperly. What Annie couldn’t determine was if Dot Anderson was really as dim as she appeared or if she was just a very good actress.

Her son, on the other hand, was adorable, and as Annie watched Nate send the child giggling back to his mother, she couldn’t but think about how devastating it would be if she couldn’t give him children of his own.

*****


Well, you and Emory got along just fine,” Nate commented to Annie as the cab took off down Market. 

As promised, he was escorting her home, and she was enjoying the chance to lean close to him in the dark shadows of the cab. The storm that had blown in Saturday night had passed, but the
sky remained overcast, with the full moon just a hazy orb.

“Yes,” she replied. “He was certainly not what I expected. Having met him, I am less inclined to think that there is anything improper about his relationship with Mrs. Anderson.”

“Yes, I suppose. He does act more fatherly towards her than anything else.”

“And if there was something untoward going on, I doubt she would have flirted so shamelessly with you in front of him.” Annie looked over at him to see how he would
take this. The lamps along Market cast just enough glow for her to see him frown.

“Annie, I assure you, she was just being polite…oh, you’re teasing me,” he said, putting his arm around her.

Annie laughed but thought to herself that she needed to keep her eye out for some Girls' High teacher, or student for that matter, who might not like Dottie Anderson batting her blue eyes at the men in their lives.

Thinking of possible motives, Annie said, “Nate, I know you told Emory that the letters the school board received and the notes to Hattie were very different, but do you think this means they were written by different people?”

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