Bloody Lessons: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery

by Locke, M. Louisa

  “Then what happened?” Nate asked, noticing that Laura was uneasy with his question, hugging herself tighter.

  “It was in the last part of the term, after Thanksgiving, and I was scheduled to board at Buck’s home for those last two weeks. I had been dreading it.”

  Annie interjected, “Oh my, Laura, I am sure you were. Nate, Laura told me that earlier in the term, she had tried to speak to Buck’s father about his behavior, but he had been as disrespectful as his son. You didn’t tell me you had to board with him.”

  “I was able to get out of it. The only family that had been decent to me the whole term was the Spears. They aren’t well off, but they are a lovely, hard-working couple, and their twin boys were two of my best pupils. I’d saved most of my earnings, and I asked if I could pay them room and board in order to live with them for those last two weeks. I knew they could use the extra money, and I would be saved from goodness knows what aggravation.”

  Nate asked, “Did they agree?”

  “Yes.” Laura leaned forward. “But Buck was enraged that I had slipped from his fingers by boarding elsewhere. He became impossible. He was defiant in class, refused to cooperate at all. Then he must have noticed on Friday afternoon that Mr. Timmons didn’t arrive to pick me up. Seth had told me he wasn’t going to be coming up that weekend because it was final exam week at San Jose. Well, on Sunday afternoon, Buck showed up and cornered me behind the Spears’ barn. I had stayed in all weekend, but when Mrs. Spear asked me to go and feed the chickens, I…” Laura shivered, and Annie leaned over and put her arm around her shoulders.

  “What happened, Laura? Did he hurt you?” Nate felt sick. How could all of this have been going on without any of the family knowing?

  “He didn’t get a chance. Mr. Timmons must have changed his mind about coming. Afterwards, Mrs. Spears told me that he’d driven up to the house and asked if I was available for a ride, and she sent him out to find me. He found Buck…trying to…kiss me.”

  Annie cried out, “Oh, Laura, I am so sorry, but Mr. Timmons rescued you?”

  “Yes, he pulled Buck off of me and they fought.” Laura paused. “It was terrible. It isn’t as if I have never seen two men fight before; you and Billy seemed to get into a least one scrap every summer, but this was different. They’re about evenly matched in height, although Buck is heavier. Nevertheless, Seth just ignored Buck’s punches and kept hitting him, over and over. It’s as if he’d turned into someone else, and I thought for a moment he was going to kill Buck.”

  “What happened?” Annie asked.

  “All of a sudden, Seth stopped and just backed away. Buck sort of fell to the ground. His nose was bleeding. There was blood everywhere, mixed with Buck’s tears because he was crying. When he saw that Seth wasn’t going to fight him anymore, he got up and ran away, shouting that his father would make Seth pay for what he did.”

  Nate flashed on a night last summer when he’d confronted someone who had harassed Annie at a charity ball, and he found himself clenching his fists, saying, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about any of this. Do Billy or Father know?”

  Laura shook her head. “What good would it have done to tell any of you? It was over. Buck didn’t come back to school the last week, and it was already arranged that Father would come and to fetch me and my trunk on the last Friday of the term, so I never saw Buck again. I was worried that since Buck’s father is on the school board I might lose my position. Then Hattie wrote to me about the job at Clement Grammar, the answer to all my prayers.”

  “But what about this Timmons? Am I to understand that you thought maybe he was the man who assaulted you in the alley? That doesn’t make sense,” Nate said.

  Laura looked down, where she was now picking at the buttons that ran down the front of her jacket. She said, “You see, after Buck ran away, I kind of lost my temper, said such awful things to Mr. Timmons. He’d been so ferocious, he’d scared me. I was mad at both of them, men in general, I guess. And after what Buck shouted, I was also worried that Seth would get in trouble over the fight. Buck’s father is very wealthy and powerful, and I was afraid that he might get Seth expelled from the Normal School.”

  Nate, feeling more and more confused said, “I still don’t know why you thought he was the one in the alley.”

  “The man was a similar height to Seth, and I thought I had been seeing him around town. Frankly, I couldn’t think of who else it might be, because the attack didn’t feel random. I got the impression the man knew me, was angry at me.”

  “Just exactly what did the man say?” Nate asked.

  “It all happened so fast. He called me…a bad word. And said something about me being stupid to think he wouldn’t find where I lived and that I had ruined his life. I thought maybe Mr. Timmons had been expelled, ending his chance to become a teacher, and he blamed me for it.”

  “Is that what he said when he saw you today?”

  “No, he said he had quit because he needed to make money. But I don’t know that I believe him. He said he had read a notice of Hattie’s death this morning in the paper and was coming here to see if I could give him more information. He said he then followed me to Woodward’s Gardens so he could talk to me in private.”

  “What else did he say?” Nate asked.

  “Not much. I was flustered by him appearing like that, out of the blue. I’m afraid I lost my temper again and told him to go away, which he did. But don’t you see, this means he knows where I live and that he really could have been the man in the alley!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Later Saturday evening, January 17, 1880

  "MINNA AGAINST WADHAM - Progress of her Suit for Damages for Seduction." ––San Francisco Chronicle, 1879

  “Are you sure you are warm enough? We can go inside if you wish.” Nate pushed open the back gate that led from the alley to Annie’s back yard.

  Light spilled from the windows on this side of the house and from the upper stories of the adjacent houses as they walked on the path between the garden on their right, all prepped for spring planting, and the empty clotheslines on the left. With the sunset, the unusually warm temperatures of the day had cooled, but the sky was still clear of clouds or even a wisp of fog. The steady breeze from the west had even cleared out some of the perpetual haze of smoke that came from every house chimney. Consequently, the sliver of new moon was visible, the stars twinkled, and the leaves of the apricot tree shimmered.

  “No, I’m fine, and I’m not ready to go in.” She tucked her arm through his and said, “We have so little opportunities to be by ourselves nowadays. I’m not ready to share you with Bea or Kathleen, who I can see are still in the kitchen. Let’s go sit under the tree.” She suspected that Beatrice and Esther were in the kitchen busy discussing their favorite topic, which was Annie, Nate, and why they weren’t married yet, and she wanted to spare both Nate and herself the inevitable effect of all that loving concern.

  When they got to the bench, Nate leaned down and used his gloves to sweep off the seat. Annie tried to be as graceful as possible as she sat, tucking in her skirts so he wouldn’t sit on them. She’d been pleased when he suggested they take a walk around the block, knowing how he would worry about damaging her reputation if they’d stayed alone in the small parlor once Laura retired for the night.

  She wasn’t surprised, either, when he immediately brought up the circumstances surrounding Buck Morrison’s behavior this fall. Nate said, “I’m not condoning what that young man, Buck, did. In fact, I would like to horsewhip him. But what if he saw Laura’s buggy rides with Timmons as making her fair game for his attentions?”

  “Nate, you know better,” Annie snapped. “From what Laura told me, he tried to make her life a misery from the first day she started teaching, and he kept at it when she didn’t give him what he wanted. Any proper gentleman would see how innocent Laura is from the moment of meeting her.”

  “You’re right. I just worry. And what about Timmons? Do you think she mi
ght be right, that Timmons was the man who attacked her?”

  “I suppose he could be. Her description of how violent he got suggests there might be some degree of instability in him,” Annie replied. “The man I am most concerned about is Buck. Maybe he got her address through his father. I wouldn’t be surprised if the principal of Clement Grammar didn’t write her former employers for a reference when she applied for the job.”

  “But what would Buck be doing in San Francisco?”

  “Just because you didn’t see fit to come visit me this autumn when you were staying at your parents’ ranch down the peninsula, it doesn’t mean that Buck couldn’t take the train up to San Francisco from Cupertino.” Annie looked up at him, and she could just make out his sudden smile. She did love to tease him.

  “At his age, he could have even left home, be living in San Francisco,” she continued.

  “I know. It’s just that I had started to relax, thinking the attacker was just some ruffian who wanted her money. But now? I really think I should track down Timmons to see what he has to say for himself.”

  “He shouldn’t be too hard to find. He told Laura he was teaching at the Lark and Pine Street School. But do be careful. If he is innocent of doing anything more than protecting your sister, you don’t want your inquiries to jeopardize his teaching position or her reputation. And Laura is so ambivalent about him, she might not welcome your interference.”

  “I must say, the idea that it might be Buck makes a lot more sense than her theory that Miss Wilks’ fiancé, Russell, attacked her.”

  “I agree,” Annie said. “Besides the fact that Russell doesn’t seem at all the same physical type as the man in the alley, I just don’t know why he would see Laura as such a threat to his coming nuptials. I think she just looking for a reason to justify how angry she is with Russell and how she treated him the night Hattie died.”

  “If she needs a reason to be angry at him, isn’t the fact that he got her friend pregnant enough?” Nate’s voice rose.

  Annie put her hand out and stroked his arm. Her words came out haltingly as she again tried to explain what she thought motivated his sister. “I think Laura has to make Russell into some evil and powerful man so that no blame for that pregnancy will fall on Hattie. If she accepts that he is an ordinary man who got carried away but then planned to do the honorable thing, then she has to accept Hattie’s role in what happened. Who knows, maybe her deathbed words were an admission of her own sense of guilt. Maybe the pregnancy was ‘no accident’ and Hattie was saying she was sorry because it was she who had ‘pushed’ them into that kind of relationship.”

  “But…I can’t imagine that a woman like Miss Wilks would…you aren’t saying that she was the seducer?” Nate shifted beside her as if the thought made him physically uncomfortable. “I know that there are women who…well, who lead some men astray.”

  “But not well-bred women like your sister or her friend? Or me?” Annie interrupted, charmed by the innocence of his reaction.

  “Exactly,” Nate said. “I mean, I can understand how a woman, in her naiveté, might give the wrong impression. Which is what I was saying about Laura and her buggy rides with Timmons, but to actively…no…I don’t believe it.”

  “Well, obviously Laura feels the same way, or wants to. She has to make Russell the villain, not someone who has lost the love of his life.”

  “I must say,” Nate burst out, “I am not sure my sister thinks very highly of any man.”

  “Except her father and brothers.” Annie leaned into him and touched his cheek. He captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss.

  She basked in the comfort of his arms around her. But then she thought about his last comment, and she said, “I think that living with her students’ families was a very rude awakening. From what she told me, she was exposed for the first time to marriages with no mutual respect, marriages where any love that had existed was destroyed by drink or poverty or simply too many children. In time she, will remember there are good men in the world––and good marriages.”

  Just as you reminded me of that truth. Annie pulled his face to hers, gently initiating a kiss.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sunday afternoon, January 18, 1880

  "MISSION STREET - THREE NICELY FURNISHED front rooms, with board, very reasonable, references." ––San Francisco Chronicle, 1880

  “I got the poor lassie’s trunk down from the attic. It’s in her room,” said Mr. McNaughton, the boarding house keeper, solemnly shaking Annie’s hand and then Laura’s. “We’ve instructions from her parents where to ship the trunk; don’t you worry yourselves about that. I just want to say again how sorry I am for what happened. If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

  Annie assured the man that they appreciated his help. Then she encouraged Laura to follow him as he led the way up the narrow flight of stairs, holding up a lamp. The lovely weather of the day before had been chased away by a storm from the northwest, and the windows on each landing did very little to illuminate the stairs. Annie clung to the banister with one hand and held up her skirts, damp from the rain, with the other. When they got to the third-floor landing and she saw how Laura stared at the large spot where the dark stained floorboard had been scrubbed to a distinctly lighter shade, she was doubly glad she had insisted in accompanying her on this mournful task. How Hattie must have bled. She put her arm around Laura’s shoulders and urged her onwards, whispering, “These stairs are very steep, and without any carpeting or proper lighting, I can easily imagine that Hattie’s fall was nothing more than an accident.”

  Laura shook her head but continued up the stairs. Once in Hattie’s room, Mr. McNaughton placed the lamp on the top of the dresser and left them, closing the door behind him. Annie went over and opened the curtains, a dreary pattern of faded morning glories, and then looked around at the very small room. As a boarding house keeper herself, she appreciated the difficulties in balancing the costs of furnishing rooms with keeping room rent low enough to attract boarders, but this room was depressing, with its mismatched colors, threadbare bedspread, rickety and scarred furniture. And, with no fireplace, it was also cold. She doubted it ever got warm, except in summer, when it would probably be stifling since it was at the top of the house. At least everything was neat and clean, and, unlike Nate’s boarding house, there were no unpleasant odors.

  “Where do you want to start, Laura?” she asked, taking off her cloak and hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. She also took off her hat and gloves and placed them on the bedside table.

  “I don’t really know.” Laura’s voice quivered. She then continued, sounding more decisive. “Her parents, in the note I got from them last evening, said that I could take anything I wanted as mementos. Perhaps I should start by going through the dresser and wardrobe, deciding what I want to keep. You could start folding everything else to put in the trunk.” Laura took off her own cloak, hat, and gloves, and, laying them on the back of the chair, she went over and opened up the doors to the narrow wardrobe and started to sort through the garments hanging there.

  Annie watched as Nate’s sister took up a dark blue wool shawl and held it to her face, breathing in deeply, and it was all she could do not to cry in sympathy for the sharpness of the girl’s grief. Instead, she went up and gently took the shawl from Laura and placed it around her shoulders, saying, “Such a lovely color and warm. Why don’t you keep it around you? This room is freezing. Shall I fold up the rest of these things?”

  Laura straightened her shoulders, pulling the shawl around her tighter. “Yes,” she said, “Hattie was a good six inches shorter than me, nothing here or in the dresser would even fit. Oh, how odd. Here is her cloak and purse. I guess I just assumed she had fallen coming in or leaving the boarding house. But then why would they be hanging up here?”

  “Well, I suppose Mr. McNaughton or his ‘missus’ might have…no, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe she was coming down for dinner
; the timing would be right.” Annie began to take the skirts, underskirts, and jackets from the wardrobe, piling them over her left arm. Everything was well-made and in the newer Basque style, some in good cashmere and others of silk faille and satin.

  Laura, who had been looking in the purse, exclaimed, “Oh, look, she has my latest letter here. I imagine the rest are in the dresser. And here are her keys. I remember, the large one is for her trunk, and the other is for the wooden box she kept letters in.” Going over to the dresser, she pulled out the first drawer, and, after digging through the undergarments, she lifted out a box and climbed up on the bed. Sitting cross-legged, her skirts bunched under her, she stared at the box as if it might bite.

  Annie refrained from telling her to mind her clothes, knowing that Kathleen was more than capable of handling any creases. Instead, she worried about what Laura would find when she opened the box. Last night, she had told them about Russell’s request to have his letters returned and her plan to read all of them before she did so. She was convinced that they would reveal once and for all his black nature. Annie worried that whatever she discovered, she would find reading Hattie’s correspondence difficult.

  Annie put Hattie’s cloak, shoes, and hats into the trunk, which was a sturdy, iron-bound wooden one that had probably gone with her to San Jose Normal School. As she laid down the next layer of clothing, the folded suits, blouses, and the long bustle that collapsed into concentric rings, she tried not to think about how the girl’s parents would feel when the trunk arrived. Then she went to the tiny two-drawer dresser and began to pack the embroidered cambric chemises, skirts, and drawers, the two corsets with their multiple corset covers, some low-necked ones with lace, others with high necks of lace and embroidery. The nightgowns were of equally fine quality, thin muslin with lace at the neck and cuffs, heavier cambric gowns, and one soft flannel that was probably her favorite. She must have spent every penny of her fall salary on clothes. No wonder she had to move to this wretched boarding house when her employment ended––she had no savings.