An Agent for Penelope

by Christine Sterling

“Th-thank you.”

  Dorcus gave her another slight push. “We are in that building over there,” she said, pointing to the farthest building.

  “Are you sure it is alright if I stay? I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

  “No inconvenience at all,” Deborah assured her. “Brother Jonah is just wary of strangers.”

  “Hmmm,” Penny said. “What are all these buildings?” she asked.

  Dorcus pointed to the various buildings. “We are in the house over here. The one over there is where all the men sleep. That house is for the married women and children.”

  “They don’t stay with their husbands?”

  “No,” Tamar said. “The men can’t be disturbed by the crying of babies. Besides, it is women’s work to do the child rearing.”

  Penny was dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine Father and Marmee being apart. Father often said the best part of his day was when he came home and was surrounded by his children. He took an active role in raising them.

  “The house in the center is the dining facility,” Ruth said, pointing to a long single-level building with a wooden roof. Penny tuned out Ruth’s cheerful voice as they continued towards the women’s quarters.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The gate was now closed, and Penny could see a bar locking the doors in place. Brother Jonah was talking to an older man. They both looked at her and a scowl came over the older man’s face.

  A chill came over her as the men watched her depart. Penny pushed her apprehension aside. She would simply stay one night and ask some questions to see if she could come any closer to finding Alice. Tomorrow she would leave and see if she could find Angus. He would know what to do.

  Chapter 7

  It had been five days and Penny hadn’t been able to escape the overwhelming generosity of her hosts. She didn’t want to use the term captive, but that is exactly how she felt.

  She wasn’t allowed to leave the compound because the brothers feared for her safety.

  Instead, she was shuffled from building to building for meals and activities. She spent most of her time with the unmarried women, praying, sewing clothes for the children or trying to avoid meetings with the brothers. She learned it was rare to have any time alone and questions were ignored or met with a warning to stop her inquiries.

  Everyone was extremely pleasant, but there was a veiled threat underneath that women were not to disobey.

  Penny slid her fingers into her ankle boot. When she touched the bulge underneath her stocking, she breathed a sigh of relief. She knew it was still there, but touching it brought her a little peace. Her traveling documents were tucked firmly under the lining of her boot.

  When she first arrived two men went through her belongings. She was told it was to confiscate any prohibited items. They asked if she had traveling documents or any identification and Penny made as though she must have lost it when she arrived on the train. Her answer appeared to satisfy them for the moment. She had a small framed picture of Marmee and Father in the bottom of her bag and the men removed it, placing it in a small linen sac. They also took her pink dress with the white lace, citing that it was too modern and would incite jealousy with the other women.

  When she protested, they assured her that her possessions would be returned when her stay was complete. Fortunately, she had placed a small picture of Alice in her stocking, along with a small knife her brother gave her. Caleb taught her to hide it, as she wouldn’t know when she might need it.

  She was taken to a room with six beds, although they were unlike any beds that Penny had ever seen. They were comprised of a wooden frame with a type of hard material stretched over it. A folded sheet and thin pillow were on top of the bed. Next to it was a plain dress and apron.

  “Once you are done dressing, you can give your clothes to Sister Mary.”

  Penny grabbed the neck of her dress. “My clothes?”

  The man nodded. “We don’t promote vanity. Everyone dresses the same.”

  “But…,” Penny started. She was going to refer to the dresses that the women wore to town. They weren’t extravagant, but they weren’t as utilitarian as what was laying on the bed. Dorcas, Deborah, Mary, Ruth and Tamar entered the room. They had changed from the skirts and blouses they wore into town to the same linen sack-like dress and plain apron.

  Penny looked at the people standing in the room. “I think I’d like my items back and I’ll take my chances at the boarding house.”

  “Ma Hutchins won’t accept you,” one of the men replied.

  “How do you know that?”

  The man looked at her with a lecherous grin. “Once we tell her what type of woman you are, no respectable establishment will allow you to stay.”

  Penny gasped. “I demand my items right this instant.”

  Ruth came over and put her hand on Penny’s arm. “Hush, now. Brother Noah is simply trying to protect you. He wouldn’t do that, would you, brother?”

  The man looked at Ruth before siding a glance at his companion. “You are responsible for her,” he said before leaving the room with the second man following.

  Once they left, Penny looked at her companions. “Can anyone explain to me what is happening?”

  Dorcas flopped onto one of the cots. The wooden feet jumped from the ground as she settled on her side, her chin propped up on her hand.

  “It isn’t so bad once you get used to it. I grew up with several sisters. They were constantly pinching my clothes. That doesn’t happen here. It is actually kind of nice.”

  Penny thought about her own sisters. “Isn’t that just a part of being siblings?”

  “Now, now, Penelope,” Deborah said. “How about you change, and we’ll get dinner and then you can decide if you want to leave.”

  Penny reluctantly nodded. If it meant she might be closer to finding her sister, then she would agree to anything. That was five days ago, and Penny didn’t think they would ever return her belongings.

  She, herself, was now referred to as Sister Penelope. She was a quick study and tried to emulate the women as they moved around the compound.

  It was hard to talk to the sisters. They didn’t want to discuss anything but the possibility of marrying one of the men who lived in the other building.

  Tamar asked if Penny ever desired to get married; the image of a broad Scotsman flashed through her mind. He was the only man she might even consider. If she could escape. Penny simply responded no, and the subject was dropped.

  Now she was in the room, sitting on her cot alone. She didn’t get much time alone, even bathing was a social experience.

  It appeared that the women traveled in small packs around the compound. She wondered how she might be able to get a one-on-one conversation with one of the sisters.

  Penny considered each of the women she encountered. Deborah appeared to lead the small group of women. When she spoke, the other women listened and responded immediately. Penny knew that she couldn’t trust Deborah to listen to her without going back to the brothers.

  Dorcas was simply happy to be away from her eleven siblings. Penny could understand that. Tamar had left an abusive relationship with a beau and didn’t want to do anything that might draw attention to herself. Mary was Deborah’s right hand. Deborah called the orders, and Mary carried them out.

  Then there was Ruth. Penny hadn’t learned much about Ruth, other than she was very protective over the other sisters who lived on the floor. She went out of her way to appease the brothers and disarm situations that might escalate due to misunderstanding.

  Penny stood and looked out the window. She could see the city outside the compound. The noise of people in the street traveled up to her window. She looked around the ground, over to where Deborah appeared to be in a heated discussion with one of the brothers. What was his name?

  The man suddenly grabbed Deborah by the arm and began to drag her towards the building with the gate around it. She could see Deborah dig in her heels, but it made no difference to the m
an. Penny was surprised Deborah didn’t scream. If it had been her, she’d be yelling loud enough so the people in Nevada could hear her.

  Suddenly Ruth darted out from a group of women and children and ran towards Deborah and the man. The man pushed her aside and continued to drag Deborah towards the building. Ruth began to cry before returning to the group of women watching in horror.

  Ruth reminded Penny of one of the buffalo that her brothers would hunt. Ruth would put herself between the predator and prey, just like a buffalo would. Penny recalled Owen telling her about a hunt where they saw a pack of wolves go after a herd of buffalo.

  The lead wolf would separate the weakest from the rest of the herd and then it was easier to strike it down. Maybe she could use the same analogy to divide the group of women.

  It appeared that Ruth or Tamar would be the weakest in the herd. Penny sat with this knowledge for a moment, and then she started to plan.

  Angus read the letters on the telegram again and his blood boiled. Not only was Alice Chapman missing, but Penelope hadn’t been seen since the day Angus left Denver. Archie thought perhaps she went home, but he found out he was mistaken when one of the Chapman brothers traveled to Denver. As soon as Archie realized this, he sent the telegram to Angus.

  Angus almost felt sorry for Archie. Almost. It was only a matter of time before his boss finally confessed his love to Marianne. So, it was fitting that he met his future in-laws.

  Angus could envision his two friends with a houseful of red-haired babies. The thought brought a smile to his face. As he looked at those children in his mind, his thoughts morphed to Penelope and a house full of babies that looked just like Angus. Strong strapping sons and beautiful daughters.

  He shook his head. There was no way he would be getting married; and there was certainly no way that Penelope Chapman would be interested in the likes of him. He was too old, nearly fifteen years her senior. He had scars from fighting in the ring. He was too set in his ways. He had … too many excuses.

  Angus had been in San Francisco for a week and he was no closer to finding out who was killing the fighters, or to locating Alice Chapman. He passed around the picture of Penny and her sisters, but no one recognized the young blonde woman.

  Now, he held the ticker tape that said the woman who had been haunting his thoughts was nowhere to be found. It made absolutely no sense.

  He would have boarded the next train to Denver, but he was so close to a breakthrough on his current case, and he was afraid if he left then he would undo the months of undercover work. There hadn’t been any deaths within the club since Angus left South Platte. Perhaps the killer got bored or moved on.

  He checked his watch. He needed to get moving. The club was going to open soon, and Angus needed to be there since he was fighting that evening. The club was in the bottom of an old brick building on the far side of town.

  Most of the fighters congregated there during the day. They sparred in the makeshift boxing ring that was set up in a corner, or they exercised to get their minds and bodies in shape for the evening’s fights.

  Most of the fighters were good friends outside of the ring. They would laugh one minute and then beat the daylights out of each other the next.

  Angus was glad he wasn’t a permanent part of this world. These young men, some much younger than him, made this their career. If you won, the purse was a nice living. If you didn’t, you ended up with a scarred body and battered mind.

  He grabbed his bag which contained his fighting breeches, fist tape, and boxing shoes and stuffed the telegram at the bottom of the bag. He briskly walked the few blocks to the building, which was sandwiched between two alleyways.

  He let himself in a side door and jogged down the stairs to the room where the fighters were resting.

  “Hey Scotsman,” a fighter named Pig called to him. Pig wasn’t his real name. Most of the fighters didn’t share personal details. Pig had a scrunched-up muzzle, that looked more like a snout than a nose. “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what?” Angus replied.

  Pig shifted his weight on the settee, draping his legs over one of the arms. He looked at Angus and gave a toothy grin. “The Mountain was found this morning.”

  Angus dropped his bag next to the sofa. “Where?”

  “In the back of the alley. That copper is already there.” Angus nodded and headed back to the alleyway. He walked around the back of the building and stopped when he saw the sheet covering a body near a fence.

  Inspector Harrison was speaking to Shaun Little, The Mountain’s promoter. Angus couldn’t hear the words they were saying. Shaun was wiping his eyes and nodding as Angus approached.

  “I just heard. I’m sorry, friend.”

  Shaun nodded, too overcome with anguish to speak.

  “Where were you this morning, Scotsman?” Inspector Harrison asked. Angus looked at the young detective. No more than thirty, the man was a trusted resource to Archie. Harrison was the only one who knew Angus was undercover in the fight club. Angus was thankful that the inspector was careful not to compromise his cover.

  “At me apartment. I had some business to attend to. I just got to the club.”

  “Are you fighting tonight?” Angus nodded. Harrison turned to Shaun. “If I have any more questions, I’ll be in touch.”

  “Are you just going to leave him there?” Shaun asked.

  “The undertaker should be around in a few to pick him up.”

  Shaun nodded and headed back towards the club room.

  “Walk with me,” Harrison said, pointing further down the alleyway.

  “Nay. I don’t want anyone to get the idea that I’m being friendly with a copper.”

  Harrison nodded his understanding. “Just be careful. I don’t want to be out here writing up notes on your body.”

  “What happened?” Angus asked. “The Mountain hadn’t been fighting for the past few days.”

  “His handler said he disappeared four nights ago after beating the tar out of that Chinaman. Went out for a walk after collecting his purse and never returned.”

  “Why didn’t they say something before now.”

  Harrison shrugged. “You know how it goes. Sometimes fighters get sick of the broken bones and bruises. They just decide to take their winnings and ride off into the sunset.”

  “That isn’t like The Mountain.”

  “How well did you know him?”

  Angus shrugged. “Well enough to break his jaw.” Harrison murmured his understanding.

  They moved to the side of the alleyway as the undertaker pulled up in his flat wagon which was pulled by a mule.

  “That him over there?” the man asked, pointing to the sheet on the ground.

  “Yes,” Harrison responded. “That is the only body here today.”

  Death was no laughing matter, but the way the inspector answered the undertaker made Angus chuckle. The undertaker glanced over to Angus, not amused that he was laughing.

  “You done, Inspector?” he finally asked.

  “All yours,” Harrison said, nodding.

  The undertaker pulled the wagon the rest of the way into the alley. There was no way to identify the body where Angus was looking. The only indication that the body was a fighter was the bruised hand peeking out of the covering.

  “Looks like he had been fighting in the past few days,” Angus said as he and the inspector followed the undertaker.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Look at his hand. Those are fresh cuts. Cuts from four days ago would have started to harden and crust over. Those are still soft.”

  “Hold up,” Harrison called to the undertaker. “I want to look at something.” He knelt next to the body and flipped the sheet, exposing the lifeless body of The Mountain.

  Angus grunted and tried not to inhale. The stench of decaying flesh was overpowering. It was mixed with the scent of something sickly sweet, almost floral. He stepped over the dead body of The Mountain and went to lean his arm against th
e brick building. He felt like retching, but he held it down. He turned to look at the dead man again. Harrison was lifting the man’s arm to examine it. There were cuts all up the man’s arms. Not deep enough to cause an infection, but shallow enough to cause constant pain. Someone had tortured The Mountain before he died.

  Harrison waved Angus over. “Look at this,” he said pointing to the torn shirt the dead man wore. Angus leaned down to look at the collar of the shirt. “Right here on the edge of the neck.”

  “It looks like lipstick,” Angus remarked.

  Harrison nodded his head. “Do you know if he had a female companion?”

  Angus shook his head. “I saw him with a group of young ladies, but they weren’t soiled doves or anything. These women were missionaries, I believe.” Harrison raised his eyebrow, so Angus continued. “I think they came to the fight to preach on the dangers of drinking, gambling and womanizing.”

  “They actually came to the fight?”

  Angus nodded. “Pretty loud about it too. I just thought San Francisco was unlike the other clubs. That would never be allowed East of the Rockies.”

  “If you see them again, let me know, will you?” Harrison asked.

  “Are you done?” the undertaker interrupted. “I need to get back to my workshop.”

  Harrison dropped The Mountain’s wrist and wiped his hand on his dark pants. “Yeah, get him out of here.”

  The man jumped down and picked up The Mountain underneath the arms. “Grab the feet, will ya?” he directed to the inspector.

  Harrison grabbed the Mountain’s booted feet and heaved the body into the back of the wagon. When they were done, the inspector pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. He struck a match on his heel and lit the tobacco stick, inhaling deeply.

  “How can you not be sick?” Angus asked. The smell of the body was making him queasy.

  “Menthol under your nose works wonders.”

  Angus dismissed Harrison with a wave. “I need to get back before they miss me.”

  Harrison flicked ash on the ground. “Remember what I said, Scotsman.”

  Angus nodded. “I will.”