Uneasy Spirits: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery (37 page)

The one bright spot had been a note she had gotten from Nate canceling his plans to visit the boarding house this evening because of an emergency meeting with a client. This gave her some breathing room before he found out about the barrels. Thinking of the discussion she’d had with Mrs. Stein about Nate’s feelings towards her and her ambivalence about her own feelings, Annie worried at a niggling kernel of guilt. She hadn’t told Nate about the second note and the push off of the horse car.

She hadn’t told anyone, convincing herself that both notes and the push were simply the act of a jealous Arabella, therefore, she wasn’t really in any danger. Last evening’s events suggested otherwise, and she knew Nate would be angry that she was going ahead with her plan to visit Evie May one more time. And could Annie blame him? Wouldn’t she be upset if he did something she thought threatened his safety?

“
Ma’am, we’re at Harrison, we need to get off.” Kathleen had gently touched her arm to get her attention.

Annie took a deep breath, shaking her thoughts free of this conundrum, and got up, leading the way to the front of the car.

“
Thanks, Kathleen. Now, when we get there, can you please see that Mrs. Nickerson gets this letter from me? Obviously, it would be best if you can hand it over to her in person. If not, could you slip down to see Biddy and ask her if she would deliver it?”

Annie handed over the letter she had written asking Evie May’s mother if she would join her, with her daughter, for tea tomorrow morning at Woodward’s Gardens. Flora Hunt had written her yesterday, asking if she could arrange this meeting and suggesting the venue because it would provide more opportunities for Flora to take Evie May aside to speak with her. Meanwhile, Annie could entertain Mrs. Nickerson and possibly learn more about Evie May’s childhood.

“
Should I make sure no one else is around when I give the letter to Mrs. Nickerson?” Kathleen asked.

“
Good question. Yes, we can’t trust anyone else in the house but Biddy. I am hoping that Mrs. Nickerson will keep the contents of the letter to herself. If you are able to give the letter to her directly, you could tell her you would be glad to convey her answer to me.”

Standing at the Framptons’ front door, Annie reflected that it had been two weeks since her first visit. She knew she couldn’t pursue this investigation much longer. If the details Nate and she had learned on Sunday about how the séance effects were handled weren’t enough to persuade Miss Pinehurst’s sister that the Framptons were frauds, she wasn’t sure there was anything else she could do for Sukie Vetch. If Annie were successful in getting Flora Hunt and the Nickersons together, she would have done all she could for Evie May, too.

She would ask Nate to accompany her to the séance this Friday and promise to send Simon a note telling him she would no longer be availing herself of Arabella’s or Evie May’s services. That should allay Nate’s concerns and end any possible threat against her from Arabella.

Annie hadn’t realized how nervous she had been about confronting Albert, who very well might have tried to kill her last night, until the front door opened and she felt a wave of relief when she saw it was Biddy who was standing there, ushering them in.

“
Oh, Mrs. Fuller, I didn’t know you were the girl’s next client.” Biddy then lowered her voice. “Something’s going on. There’s a man in the library with Mr. Frampton and Albert. I didn’t see who it was, but the master told me to answer the door and . . .” Biddy stopped abruptly, then in a louder voice she said, “Please, Mrs. Fuller, the master asked if you would be so kind as to step into the parlor, he will be with you straightaway.” Sketching a brief curtsy, Biddy winked at Annie.

Biddy then turned and acknowledged Mrs. Nickerson, who was coming down the front stairs, saying, “Ma’am, I told Mr. Simon that you wished to speak with him, but he is otherwise engaged. He said to tell you he would see you at dinner.”

Mrs. Nickerson did not appear pleased, saying querulously, “Such a bother. I had postponed going out in the expectation of being able to speak with him.”

Annie made a split-second decision and walked swiftly over to Evie May’s mother, her hand outstretched. “Please, Mrs. Nickerson, I am so glad to have this chance to meet you. My name is Mrs. Fuller, and I am about to have a private sitting with your wonderfully talented daughter. How very proud you must be. I had begun to despair of ever contacting my loved ones, sitting night after night in Arabella’s circle . . . I know she is supposed to be quite in tune with the spirit world . . . but I haven’t seen, well, that is neither here nor there . . . but your daughter. Oh, my, the power she has . . . the feeling you are speaking directly to the dearly departed. Mrs. Nickerson, I shouldn’t delay you, but I was wondering if you would oblige me . . . my servant has a communication to you that explains everything. If you would just read my little note and let Kathleen here know if you would be willing . . . oh, I must not keep your daughter waiting. I so hope you will look upon my request favorably. It would mean the world to me.”

Annie finally released the speechless Mrs. Nickerson’s hand and practically ran to the door to the parlor. As Annie passed by, Biddy grinned and then closed the door behind her. Annie hoped she had read Mrs. Nickerson’s character correctly and that she would be amenable to Annie’s proposed meeting. If Simon would just delay coming out of the library long enough for Kathleen to do her part. Who was the man meeting with Simon and Albert? Could it be the same man Simon and Arabella talked about on Sunday?

She then noticed that the door to the small parlor was open and saw that Evie May was sitting in the cabinet. She was dressed all in white, but, unlike last Wednesday, today her outfit was clearly feminine. She didn’t appear to see Annie. Instead she looked down where her arms cradled the air. She hummed a monotonous tune, faintly reminiscent of a nursery rhyme. Annie went over to the girl, but, not wanting to frighten her, she stood for a moment, hoping to get a sign of recognition.

Evie May slowly raised her face and stared blankly up at Annie, her eyes an odd light amber shade today. She then went through one of her amazing transformations. She pulled up her knees, scrunched down, and tilted her head, all of which seemed to shrink her overall size. With one hand twirling her hair and the other tugging at Annie’s sleeve, she smiled beatifically, lisping, “Have you come to put me to bed? I was a naughty girl, the bad man says, ’cause I won’t play with him. Bad girls have to go to bed without their suppers and they get scared all alone. I don’t like being all alone.”

Annie responded to the insistent tugging and sat down on the cabinet bench next to Evie May, who immediately sidled closer to her and put her arms around her neck.

“
Maybelle, is that you?” asked Annie.

“
Course it’s me. Silly. Can you sing me a bedtime song?”

Annie stroked Evie May’s hair and said softly, “Maybelle, who is the bad man? The one who sends you to bed without your supper?”

“
He says he’s papa. He’s not my papa. My papa loves me. I’m the bestest girl in all the wide world.” Evie May pulled away from Annie and glared, her voice rising. “I am his beautiful girl and he loves me best, better’n anybody.”

Flora Hunt had suggested that Annie try to contact Evie May’s ‘Miss Evelyn,’ the young woman Kathleen had met in the hallway two weeks ago, because as an older spirit, she might be able to provide more information about Evie May and her past. With this in mind, Annie said, “Yes, Maybelle, you are a very good girl, and I am sure your papa loves you. But it’s time for you to go to sleep. Could you ask Miss Evelyn if she would be willing to visit with me awhile?”

“
I love Miss Evelyn, she sings me a bedtime song and I fall right to sleep.” Evie May yawned hugely and put her head back down on Annie’s shoulder, becoming a dead weight.

Annie tightened her arms around the girl, thinking about the horrors that Flora had hinted at from her own childhood and wondering if Evie May had a similar past. She also wondered if Flora was correct and that the personalities Evie May experienced when she was in a trance were ‘protective’ spirits.

How could this sweet child, Maybelle, provide any protection for Evie May? Or, for that matter, what good could the nine-year-old boy, Eddie, do? How could the spirits of such young children protect a girl who was actually older than they?

“
Oh, Evie May, what has happened to you? And where was your mother?” Annie whispered, rocking the girl in her arms.

“
Get your hands off of me. Who do you think you are?” Evie May had metamorphosed into an outraged young woman, who was now sitting as far away from Annie on the cabinet bench as she could get. Sitting ramrod straight, she appeared tall, and the soft wool dress now revealed the modest, but definitely promising, shape of a womanly figure. The deft way she was rearranging the soft curls that had been cascading down her back into a fashionable topknot suggested she was not without vanity.

Annie said tentatively, “Miss Evelyn?”

“
Yes, and who might you be?”

“
I’m Mrs. Fuller. Mrs. Annie Fuller. I actually was hoping I might meet you. I’ve been worried about Evie May. She, rather Maybelle, has mentioned a man who sounds like he might be frightening her. Can you tell me who he is?”

“
That is really none of your business. I appreciate your concern, but no one is ever going to hurt any of us again, I can assure you. Edmund will make sure of that.”

“
Edmund?”

“
Yes, he may be a regular hoodlum, but, for all that, he’s learned a thing or two on the streets.”

Annie made another try, “Please, Miss Evelyn. There is a woman, Mrs. Flora Hunt, who feels that she might be able to help you . . . all. I have asked your mother to meet with Mrs. Hunt tomorrow, and I think it may be helpful if you were to encourage this meeting.”

“
Well,” sniffed the young woman. “I’m going to be pretty busy. Thursday’s market day. But Eddie might want to come, and he’s a sensible little chap. He looks after Maybelle when I’m not around. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I can see that our time together must be ending.”

Annie heard a sound from the adjoining room, and, without thinking, she shook the hand that had been graciously offered her. Feeling quite like Alice down the rabbit hole, she watched as Miss Evelyn disappeared, to be replaced by Evie May, slumped in the corner of the cabinet.

“
M.H de Young, one of the proprietors…explained all the modern conveniences connected with this confessedly most perfect and thorough journal office…from the business office, on the first floor, to the mailing room, on the upper floor, there is combined elegance and convenience…”
—
San Francisco Chronicle
, 1879

As Nate approached the new five-story
Chronicle
building on the corner of Bush and Kearny, he tried to put a damper on the excitement he had been feeling ever since yesterday when he got a brief note from Anthony Pierce, setting up a meeting for this morning because he had an “interesting proposition” to put before him. He’d hated having to postpone seeing Annie last night because of work, but he decided after he got the note it might have been for the best. Sunday night had dispelled any remaining doubts he’d had about Annie’s feeling for him, and, if Anthony had come up with a concrete job possibility, he could talk to her about their future together when he saw her tomorrow. That is, if the “position” paid more than he was currently making.
Hell, it couldn’t pay less.

After Nate paid for his share of the rent and supplies for the law offices and his room and board, there was hardly anything left over. Yesterday he’d again broached the subject with his uncle of looking for an additional partner to share the law firm’s expenses and bring in more lucrative clients. Once again his uncle had said they would talk about it later.
Uncle Frank might find that later was just too late.

Since Sunday, visions of a future life with Annie had dominated his thoughts, almost to the exclusion of everything else, fueling his impatience. Work at the law firm consisted of boring clerical work and the petty concerns of men like Suttlerly, the octogenarian Nate had met with last night. Men whose lives had narrowed down to trying to preserve their power beyond the grave through minutely detailed wills. This isn’t why he’d chosen the law as a profession. Too young to prove himself in the war, uninterested in following in the footsteps of his father and be a rancher, Nate had thought law would be where he would make his mark. Defending the innocent and establishing new legal precedents, not writing out wills, deeds of property, and articles of incorporation had been his goal.

However, a position in the state attorney general’s office, or even better, working in the city attorney’s office, would be a lot more stimulating. In addition, experience on the prosecuting side could be very helpful later if he wanted to set up his own law firm concentrating on defense. The investigations he did last summer with Annie had given him a taste for criminal law.

And, he had to admit, this investigation of the Framptons was turning out to be quite intriguing. He had thoroughly enjoyed uncovering the séance tricks on Sunday. Then there was the personal satisfaction of the all too short interlude with Annie in the cabinet. He supposed when Annie married him and quit her work as Madam Sibyl she might find life a little dull, until the children came; but he would be sure to share with her the more interesting parts of his own work. She had a keen mind, and he was sure she would give him good advice as he moved forward in his career.