In Places Hidden

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In Places Hidden Page 6

by Tracie Peterson


  His brow furrowed as he frowned. For a moment, it seemed he would say nothing more, but just as Camri was ready to dismiss him, he got to his feet and paced back and forth in front of her.

  “You must understand, I knew very little about you. Caleb had mentioned having a sister, but we spoke very little of his family. I was in Europe when you visited last summer, so I had no chance to meet any of you. However, I knew Caleb well enough to know that he would want me to protect you and your folks from any possible harm. Harm that might arise from his having made powerful men unhappy.

  “In San Francisco, these men are not used to meeting with obstacles and being told they can’t have their way. They do whatever is required to meet their desires. Your brother came up against them while helping Mr. Murdock.”

  “But if my brother was against them, why are you now concerned that he was working with them? Come, Mr. Ambrewster you aren’t making sense. You’re contradicting yourself at every turn.”

  He stopped midstep, and his face paled. “There are rival parties of politicians, and each has their supporters. These men are corrupt beyond comparison. It is possible that during the trial, one group struck a deal with your brother. I say this only because it was quite unexpected that Mr. Murdock was found not guilty. It’s been suggested to me that your brother may have been offered something that he couldn’t refuse, and in turn Mr. Murdock was found innocent. I’m sorry to say that juries and judges are bought off all the time.”

  Camri didn’t like the way the conversation had gone. What if Ambrewster was right and Caleb had angered the wrong people?

  Ambrewster sat back down on the edge of the sofa. “The powerful men of this town will stop at nothing to maintain their positions. Positions, I might add, that go all the way up to the mayoral office. Mr. Murdock meant little to them. I truly believe he was nothing more than an example to other small businesses that were considering opposing them. It’s possible that they had a change of heart and paid off the jury and the judge in order to . . .”

  He fell silent, but Camri could see the pain in his expression. Maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he was telling her the truth, or at least his perception of it.

  “In order to gain my brother’s favor?” Camri asked.

  He released a heavy breath. “I don’t know. It’s all speculation. I don’t like to think of Caleb working with them, but there are things I can’t explain.”

  “Such as?” She gripped the leather arms of her chair as her anxiety increased.

  “As I mentioned . . . there are Caleb’s notes and records.” He lifted his face to meet her gaze. “There’s also the matter of a great deal of money I found in your brother’s desk.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What money?”

  “Ten thousand dollars in a locked box in one of his desk drawers. When I initially looked through his things, I had no reason to open the box, but since your appearance I decided to be more thorough. Caleb had no reason to have such a sum. Unless, of course, you know something. Did your parents perhaps wire him money?”

  Dread washed over Camri and threatened to cut off her breath. “No.” She shook her head, but continued to hold Ambrewster’s gaze. “They never sent him any such sum. They couldn’t have afforded it.”

  “So there you are. The only thing I can assume is that the money came from those who could afford to spare it. The men at the top of this city.”

  She was still shaking her head. “But Caleb would never . . . he wouldn’t.” She cleared her throat and got to her feet. “My brother would never work with dishonest men, not even to see an innocent man set free. He just wouldn’t do that, Mr. Ambrewster.” Tears came to her eyes, and she fought to retain control. “You’ll have to excuse me. Please show yourself out.”

  CHAPTER

  7

  Henry Ambrewster didn’t like the way things were shaping up in regard to Caleb. He had always been fond of the young man—had planned to make him a full partner. Even now the papers were signed and ready to present.

  At the curb outside Caleb’s house, his driver waited beside the open car door. “Good evening, sir. Shall I take you to the Cliff House?”

  “No. Take me to my club.” He climbed into the back of the Winton and tried to formulate a plan.

  Henry knew the political machine created by Abe Ruef and Mayor Schmitz, and he’d had more than one run-in with their representatives. They were the strongest of all the political factions. If you wanted to succeed in San Francisco, you needed to court these men and agree to their terms. Henry had done all he could to avoid them. Still, at times he found it necessary to operate just inside of the law in order to meet their demands. It hadn’t been easy, and it certainly hadn’t always gone the way he wanted. Sometimes legalities were skirted. Other times they were ignored altogether, and Henry felt there was little he could do but go along with the matter.

  In the past, money and political favor had soothed Henry’s conscience. What little conscience he had. When his wife had been alive, he’d been more inclined to attend church and give the appearance of being a God-fearing man, but after her death, none of that seemed important. When Caleb came into his life, the young man reminded Henry of the things he’d left behind. Spiritual things—deep introspective desires to be a better man, to serve God. But now Caleb was gone, and his sister was here to search for answers, and Henry was awakened to another desire that had been left behind—for a wife and companion. Someone who could ease his loneliness. If he could find out what happened to Caleb, perhaps Camri would be so grateful that she’d see him as a potential mate.

  The car stopped, and the driver quickly jumped out to open the door for Henry. He stood at attention while Henry straightened his necktie. “Pick me up at nine.”

  “Yes, sir.” The driver waited until Henry had stepped away from the car to close the door.

  Henry turned back. “Oh, and Charles, go to my tobacconist and procure some pipe tobacco for me. He’ll know the kind.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With that, Henry made his way into the club and handed his coat and hat over to the man handling the coatroom. A refined older gentleman greeted him almost immediately.

  “Mr. Ambrewster, we’re honored to have you with us tonight.”

  “Thank you, Masters. I’d like to take dinner.”

  “Very good, sir. We offer a seafood platter with scallops, mussels, and lobster, or a T-bone steak precisely two inches thick. Both are served with sides of asparagus and baked potatoes.”

  “I’ll take the steak. Rare.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “Oh, please call and cancel my reservation at the Cliff House.” Henry started to go, then paused. “Who’s here tonight that I might have business with?” It wasn’t uncommon for newly arrived gentlemen to ask such a question. Masters kept a ready knowledge of who was in attendance and how they related to other members.

  “Mr. Johnston is in the Green Room.”

  Henry nodded. “Then that’s where I’ll be. Have dinner brought there.”

  “Very good, sir.” The refined butler gave a slight bow before departing.

  The Green Room was located upstairs at the end of the hall. It was a room in which one could hold a private meeting or simply read the newspaper. Decorated, as most of the club was, in rich leather and wood furnishings, the room also boasted a private bar and a large stone fireplace that was always lit in the evenings no matter the weather or temperature.

  Henry preferred this room to almost any other at the club. He had conducted many a business meeting here and had often taken his meals here as well. It was quiet, and any gaming attractions such as cards or billiards were off-limits.

  A uniformed doorman opened the highly polished door as Henry approached. “Good evening, Mr. Ambrewster.”

  Henry nodded. He couldn’t remember the young man’s name, but Masters saw to it that the staff knew every member by sight. Henry was never sure how Masters did it, but if any staff membe
r failed to acknowledge members by name, they were immediately dismissed without reference. If only all businesses and homes could be run with such efficiency. It was said that more than one member had tried to woo Masters away from the club with outrageous offers of money, property, and other benefits, but Masters was loyal to the club and his position. Henry also knew that the owner was privy to all those offers and saw to it that Masters was amply rewarded for his allegiance.

  Frederick Johnston sat reading at the far end of the room, away from the fireplace and a gathering of several men. Henry had no desire to speak to anyone save Johnston and kept his distance, lest he have to acknowledge the other men’s presence and join in their conversation. Thankfully, they were too caught up in their discussion to even notice Henry.

  “Good evening, Fred. I wonder if I could take a moment of your time?” Henry asked, taking a seat opposite him.

  He had known Johnston since long before Henry’s sister Margarite had married Fred’s younger brother, Nicholas. Frederick had a reputation for two things. Ruthless and underhanded business deals that always benefited his bank account, and a French mistress whose beauty was renowned around the world. It was rumored that she was of royal blood. It was also well known that when Johnston traveled, he took her along, whether or not his wife was also in attendance. Henry had heard that the amount of money settled on the wife for her cooperation was equivalent to the bank balance of some small nations.

  Johnston put down his book. “What’s troubling you, Henry?”

  “I’ll get right to the point. I had a young man working for me. Caleb Coulter.”

  “Yes, the one who went to battle for that Irish contractor accused of murder.”

  “Exactly. Well, he disappeared in late August.”

  “And you’re just now curious as to where he’s gone?” Johnston raised a brow.

  Henry shook his head. “I’ve tried to find him. I’m convinced it wasn’t of his own doing, but . . .”

  “But?” Johnston eyed him curiously.

  “But I fear the kind of trouble I might attract. It’s recently come to my attention that Caleb was doing some work for your rivals. Given his background and character, I found this very hard to believe, but I discovered certain records.”

  “And you fear that something went amiss and your young man met with trouble?”

  “I don’t really know what to think. I hired a man to find Caleb, but he reported that there were absolutely no clues as to where he’d gone. The detective came highly recommended, and I’m afraid after he gave up, I was hard-pressed to know what else I could do. With Caleb gone, my workload doubled, and I had very little time to focus on the matter. But it wasn’t for a lack of concern or desire to do so.”

  “If Ruef’s people took him, there probably won’t be any clues.” Johnston pursed his lips, then ran a finger along his mustache. “I’ll make inquiries, although I wouldn’t hold out much hope now that so much time has passed. But why the sudden interest?”

  “Caleb’s sister has come to town to find him. Her parents sent her, and she is an independent and determined young woman.”

  Frederick’s expression changed to one of understanding. “And is she also beautiful?”

  Henry felt like an uncomfortable schoolboy. “Yes. She is that.” He hesitated, then decided it did no harm to confess his feelings. “I find myself quite attracted to her.”

  “So finding her brother might well win you her heart.”

  “It might.” Henry shrugged. “However, I care about Caleb as well. When he first disappeared, I gave his office a cursory examination. After all, I had to take up his cases and see that all matters were being handled properly. As I said, I’ve been busy. I’ve often worked until late in the evening, and with so much to handle, I simply stopped worrying about Caleb. I suppose part of me feared he was dead and that attempting further investigation might well bring me to the same end.”

  “Has anyone threatened you, Henry?”

  “No, but now that I’m asking for your help, I fear they may.”

  Johnston frowned and studied Henry for a moment. His scrutiny made Henry even more uncomfortable. He supposed it would be best to tell him everything.

  Leaning forward, Henry whispered, “Fred, I found ten thousand dollars in a lockbox hidden in Caleb’s desk. There’s no reason he should have had that kind of money. Someone is going to want it back.”

  Frederick nodded. “I understand.” He steepled his fingers. “The matter intrigues me, and I love a good mystery. Very well, Henry. Don’t worry about Ruef and his thugs. He knows better than to create problems for people close to me. While we are hardly friends, you could say Ruef and I are cooperative enemies.” He got to his feet and straightened his coat. “I suppose the first order of business will be to find out who’s missing ten thousand dollars.”

  Judith sneezed for the twentieth time in two hours. She felt miserable—bad enough that she’d remained home instead of going to work at the candy factory. No doubt Mr. Lake would be completely undone by her absence. The poor little man had stressed their deadline over and over.

  She put a damp cloth to her head and closed her eyes. Hopefully the cold would pass quickly. Mrs. Wong had made her some tea that she swore had curative powers. Judith didn’t know if this was true, but it tasted bad enough to be medicinal.

  When the doorbell sounded, Judith got to her feet and set the cloth aside. Mrs. Wong had told her that she’d be busy with the laundry, and Judith had promised to see to anyone who came calling. She made her way to the hall, fighting off a wave of dizziness.

  She opened the door to a rush of chilly air and Micah Fisher. “Mr . . . Dr. Fish . . . Fish . . . achoo!” She barely had time to cover her mouth with her handkerchief. “I do apologize. I’ve managed to catch cold.”

  “Good thing I’m a doctor.” He held up his black bag. “Why don’t you invite me in, and I’ll see if I can help you?”

  “You’re welcome to come in, but I doubt there’s much to be done. Mrs. Wong made me a tea that is supposed to help, and Camri admonished me to take a hot bath. I’ve done both, and neither seems to have made me feel any better.”

  To her surprise, Micah reached out and felt her forehead. “Good, you don’t have a fever.” He escorted her back to the front room and sat her down facing the window. He set his hat aside and unlatched his bag. “Now, open your mouth.”

  She did so and waited patiently as he peered inside. As bad as she felt, Judith found she wasn’t even unnerved by how handsome he was. This only served to make her certain she must be dying.

  Micah felt her face, pressing slightly on the ridges of her cheeks and between her brows. She winced.

  “Painful?” he asked.

  “Tender.”

  He nodded. “I don’t think it’s all that serious. I have some powders that might help relieve your misery. Mix them in a glass of warm water and take yourself to bed. You’ll probably feel miserable for another day or two, but rest and fluids will soon get you back on your feet.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled as he fished a packet of medicine from his black bag. “What brought you to visit us? I’m afraid I’m the only one home. Camri and Kenzie are both at work.”

  “Last Sunday I promised I would try to find an address for Ophelia and Patrick Murdock. I managed to acquire that today and thought I would bring it by.” He handed her the medicine, then reached into his coat. “It’s not in a very good part of town, so if Miss Coulter can wait until Sunday afternoon, I would be happy to drive her there.” He gave Judith a folded piece of paper.

  She opened the paper and studied the address a moment, but her eyes refused to focus for long. She refolded the note. “I’ll give it to Camri the minute she returns.”

  He smiled and closed his bag. “You should just leave it with the housekeeper and take yourself to bed.” He pointed to the medicine. “After you take that, of course.”

  Judith nodded. “I will do just that. Thank you for your kindness.�
��

  “It’s easy to be kind when the recipient is so lovely.”

  She felt her face grow hot—no doubt as red as her nose. She started to reply, but before she could speak, she sneezed three times in a row. So much for being lovely.

  Dr. Micah Fisher left as quickly as he’d arrived, and Judith found herself almost forgetting why he’d come in the first place. She looked at the note and packet of medicine in her hands and decided both required a trip downstairs to the kitchen. Hopefully Mrs. Wong would be able to help.

  Judith made her way slowly down the back stairs, wishing she were already in bed. She paused at the bottom step, wishing that her vision would clear and the dizziness would leave her. Through the door, she heard Mr. and Mrs. Wong having a heated discussion.

  “We cannot tell,” Mrs. Wong declared. “Too dangerous.”

  “But if we not tell, then bigger trouble may come.”

  Judith frowned. What in the world were they talking about?

  “You see what happened. You know danger,” Mrs. Wong continued. “I think it our fault. We cannot speak of it.”

  Judith felt another sneeze coming on and did her best to appear as though she were just coming downstairs. “Achoo!” She entered the kitchen with her handkerchief up to her nose.

  The Wongs looked up from where they sat at the table folding laundry. Mrs. Wong jumped to her feet. “You sick. You should go to bed.”

  “I plan to. Dr. Fisher stopped by and gave me this address for Camri, as well as medicine for me to take. He said I should leave the note with you and take this powder in hot water. He said rest and fluids would help me most.”

  Mrs. Wong’s worried expression softened. She nodded and took the note. “I do that for you. You go to bed, and I bring hot water.”

  Judith smiled, trying her best not to give away her concern about what the couple had been discussing. Whatever the topic, they both seemed anxious. She had barely climbed to the third step when she heard Mrs. Wong start up the conversation again, this time in hushed Chinese. It was strange, but then again, everything seemed that way, given how she felt.

 

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