The Golden Gates

by C. R. Kliewer

  Her eyes drifted to the right and rested on Hess who was now busily entertaining Una, leaving her husband free to move forward to join Beltran and Smith’s group. Thoughts of the Teutonia flitted through her mind. Wouldn’t that be interesting if . . .

  Her thoughts were cut short by a peal of laughter from Una. Anna’s eyes moved to the slim square shoulders of the horror star. It sure wasn’t brains that Hess was attracted to. Maybe no one with brains would have him. The random thought triggered another. I wonder what’s between him and Eva. Anna mused a while longer on the international convention that convened under the guise of a celebrity pleasure cruise, before returning once again to the real issue at hand. None of this has anything to do with why I’m here! She looked around. Eva was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Daniels. Beltran and Stu had dropped behind her and were now in deep discussion. Hess and Una had joined up with Toni and Marian. Smith was walking alone, and within range.

  She nonchalantly eased her way next to him matching her steps with his. After walking several yards together in silence, she spoke. “John Smith? Rather a common American name, especially for someone who is not American?”

  “You picked up on the accent then?”

  “Hard to miss. Germanic isn’t it.”

  “Yes, I’m German.” His voice belied discomfort, but surprisingly, that did not stop the man of few words from continuing. “My real name is Johann Schmidt. When I immigrated to America, I discovered right away that a name like Schmidt wasn’t welcome in my new home. John Smith was the obvious choice for a name change. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. The accent always gives me away.” A curious look, one mixed with sarcasm and irony, lit his eye.

  “It is a pity some people can’t get past their initial prejudices. I trust that you have found at least a few friends here in America though. Mr. Beltran seems pretty nice.”

  His curious look warped a bit further, “We all have our prejudices, Miss Kelly, whether we admit to them or not.”

  “Do you admit yours?” she asked bluntly.

  “Not out loud.” He smiled then walked away.

  Well that was a bust. Good going Kelly.

  Beltran came up from behind and joined Anna. “So, are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Yes, I am well entertained. I didn’t think I would get to see so much of the city so quickly. I thought I would be at Aunt Jane’s for several days before something turned up.”

  “Well your aunt and I go way back. She called me a week ago, hearing that I was going to be in town and asked if I needed anyone. I often do business with her when I come to the bay area, so it was perfectly natural for her to ring me. However, I thought Jones would be with me the whole of the trip. But that changed, and to tell you the truth, I am glad of it. He’s so stodgy and you are much more pleasant to be around. Not to mention better to look at.”

  “You’re too much.” She laughed merrily as they rounded the last corner before reaching the lawn where lunch was to take place.

  “I try.” He smiled pleasantly then exploded. “What the hell is going on here?”

  When Anna turned her eyes in the direction Beltran’s were now turned, she immediately understood what had caused his inner bomb to detonate. There, not-so-well-concealed in the bushes, was Daniels with Eva in his arms. Instantly, the two separated, but not before she grabbed one last kiss. Now one stood with a shamefully sheepish expression and the other with a slight look of annoyance on her face.

  Hess was the next to round the corner and espy the pair. “So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  Beltran, by now, had already turned three shades of red and was currently deepening into a violent purple. Anna wisely stepped away to avoid the molten rocks that were sure to spew forth from the mouth of the active volcano. Daniels, also aware of the impending danger, hoofed it around the corner.

  “Eva?” the volcano god rumbled.

  Her eyes defiant; her lips bent in self-satisfaction, “Damn it James. It was just a kiss.”

  Looking around him with fists clenched, Beltran realized Daniels was no longer present and, therefore, could not release the full brunt of his wrath by a sound knocking to his skull, so his rage turned to Eva. His hand lifted to strike.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” she seethed, standing her ground.

  Beltran hesitated. His hand lowered, but his temper still boiled. He grabbed her wrist and started dragging her in the direction of the cars which were now parked at the edge of the lawn. Though wincing from the pain, Eva did not cry out. To Anna, Eva still seemed to be the one in control.

  Growling over his shoulder, “You all stay and enjoy lunch. I will send the car back to fetch you in an hour.” The two disappeared into the cream Cadillac, and the car roared away from the curb leaving the rest of the party looking after them like a cluster of salt pillars standing at the edge of the Dead Sea.

  Hess, recovering first, broke the silence. “Well, no sense in letting all of Moreau’s hard work go to waste.” He extended his arm to Anna, and Anna slipped her hand under his elbow. The two led the rest down to the blanket spread out on the grass by Finnegan and Michaels in preparation for their arrival.

  19

  The Moustache Gets Some News

  * * *

  Down at Harbor Station, Horace melted behind his desk. The chill of the morning had burned off with the fog and now the office felt like a Turkish steam bath. He had taken off his jacket, his hat, his tie. Had secretly slipped off his shoes underneath the desk. Unbuttoned his collar. Rolled up his sleeves, and put his face in front of the electric fan, fingers combing his moustache absently while he sat and thought.

  The results from the coroner were as expected. The charred corpse was male; death most likely due to the fire. The bastard usually torched them alive. The eyes, preserved in alcohol, gouged from a living skull before the burning took place. The teeth were pulled and disposed of elsewhere. With no teeth and no liftable fingerprints, there was no way to ID the body. Someday, he thought, with the way forensic science is moving, they will be able to identify someone with as little as the coloring of the eye, or even a single strand of hair. But that someday was not today, and was not coming soon enough to be of any use to him.

  Currently, he had four unidentified bodies on his hands, clearly tortured. It didn’t matter if they were rumrunners, or the scum of the earth he suspected them to be, no one deserved to go like that. And this kind of violence, on his doorstep? He didn’t want his beloved city to become like Chicago, or Toronto, or even New York. The SFPD had been successful so far in keeping that kind of racket out of San Francisco, albeit, by somewhat unorthodox means. He didn’t like the how, but he had to admit they had been successful. But now he had four bodies from three fires with the same M.O. as those reported all along the western seaboard. And with Prohibition on the verge of repeal, you can bet that Raven will be making plans for the future by expanding beyond the liquor business.

  In the middle of his musings, his secretary knocked on the glass pane that bore his name in scratched gold letters. Too hot to make a decent invitation, he grunted her admittance. Dressed in stiff plain tweed, she entered and placed a small scrap of paper on his desk in front of him without saying a word, not wanting to add to the heat or humidity already in the room.

  It was a telegram.

  From Chicago.

  His cool tempered eyes skimmed the innocuous words typed on the paper until they reached the last line. His fist came down on the desk with a bang.

  Damn! That’s all I need.

  20

  Chess Anyone?

  * * *

  Anna found herself walking down the starboard side in the direction of O’Connell’s cabin early that same afternoon. Still several yards away, she spotted Forster emerging out of the very door she had been making for. He was busily replacing a wool cap on his head with a light smile and, therefore, did not see her. Stopping abruptly, she slid closer to the wall, willing the slight cu
rve of the boat to shield her from his notice as long as possible. It was not until he turned and actually began walking in her direction, that he saw her standing there watching him. His smile immediately vanished. He acknowledged her by touching his cap, hiding the upper half of his face a brief second under the brim before deliberately walking by her, avoiding any further eye-contact. She waited until he fully passed her before walking her own path again. When she reached her intended destination, she looked inside. Forster had not been alone.

  O’Connell was sitting at a chess board contemplating a move in what seemed to be a high stakes game with a ruthless but unseen opponent. Stacks of well-worn books sat on the mahogany dresser, and detailed maps lined the walls. Anna stood in the doorway, pausing to watch him for a stolen moment before announcing her presence. You have to admit, he is a looker. Despite the thoughtful frown currently imprinted on his brow, the rugged face still showed evidence of his lightness and good humor.

  Now, a man who can make a woman laugh is always assured of some female admiration. Looks are another common snare. To have humor, looks, and charm? Well that’s a storm which not many a woman can ride through without her shutters being rattled a bit. But here, here was a man that was even more than that. Judging by his obvious pastimes, he was a thinker, and when one combined that with his other assets, a veritable twister that could cause her very foundations to tremble if she wasn’t careful.

  Black and cream pieces graced the mahogany chessboard inlaid with ebony and cedar. His hand reached out to take a rook and then withdrew as if second guessing the move. Finally, with marked determination and decision, he took hold of the rook moving it in a straight path to a square occupied by the contrasting queen. With the queen out the way, the king was now left with little protection. It was at this point in the game that Anna coughed politely making her presence known. He looked up to see her standing there. The complex contemplative brow melted into a both pleasant and pleased expression. His smile invited her in. His eyes motioned to the empty seat across from him.

  “Looks like a serious game,” she said with gravity as she narrowed her eyes and screwed her face to mimic his previous countenance while taking the offered seat, “I think your rook is in jeopardy from this here bishop.”

  He laughed. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “Do you often play alone?”

  “When I have a problem to work out. It helps me think.”

  “Oh, you have a problem do you? I hope it’s not anything as serious as this game.”

  “Daniels found rat droppings in the stores below and has charged me with the task to get rid of them. There is always poison, but I don’t like to use it around the food lockers. There are your usual traps, but they don’t always solve the problem. Once they know what to look for, rats avoid them like the plague. So now I am sitting here working it out, playing a game of chess . . . with the rats.”

  “You could always get a cat.”

  “The thought had occurred to me.”

  “Tell me, do you ever play human opponents?”

  “Occasionally. Finn just obliged me with a round. An experienced player, but not much of a challenge. Still, I think it was a nice break for both of us. Sometimes the Hollywood set can be pretty trying. I don’t suppose you play Miss Kelly?”

  She responded with a wicked grin. At the very same moment, Daniels appeared in the doorway.

  “Shamus, I . . . oh,” Daniels paused at seeing Anna. “Sorry to interrupt your game.” He flashed her a winning smile before turning to O’Connell with a pointed look of amusement. “But if you can spare me a moment, I need to talk with you about some odd noises coming from the engine room.” Then he left, evidently expecting O’Connell to follow him.

  O’Connell looked back at Anna and laughed. “Duty calls. I guess our game is off.” Getting up from his seat, “In truth, I am a bit relieved. I don’t think you’re used to losing, and I play for keeps.” He gave her a wink and left.

  After watching him leave, she looked back at the board. “Who says I’d lose?” she replied archly. And with that, she picked up the bishop and took his rook.

  21

  The Wolf, the Lioness, and the Rat

  * * *

  Forster was becoming uneasy; a feeling he was not used to. He had made some progress since arriving, but was nowhere near where he should have been by now. Lunch had been a setback. He had planned on staying aboard while the party was gone, getting in some alone time with the Allura and her staterooms, but at the last minute, arrangements were made that required his services on shore. Even then, he anticipated making the best of it, hoping to catch clues by listening in during the meal, but due to the blow up between Beltran and his wife conversation between the guests was severely limited and strictly superficial. Damn useless waste of time!

  And then there was Anna.

  No, she hadn’t done anything at the park to set him off, nor had she done anything to give him away. In fact, they both ignored each other, perfectly. Perfect strangers. As it should be. But Anna’s just being there galled him. At least, he didn’t have to watch O’Connell move in on her at lunch. Was that what got him so up and bothered? He was angry with himself that it even mattered. But it did.

  The sooner I get off this damn boat the better.

  The one thing that offered him any solace was something he hoped would make his job a mite easier. Daniels had extended an offer. Apparently, he and O’Connell had been making a go of it in the rumrunning business and could use some extra help getting the product ashore. It would allow him access to places on the yacht that he had previously been unable to get to without drawing attention to himself, places like the engine room and the water tank. But there was still one place he hadn’t been able to get at yet. That room was a little more tricky. It was a shame he couldn’t talk to Miss Kelly about it. She had complete access to it, being his secretary and all. It would only take a question or two and he would know. She wouldn’t even realize what he was asking. But there was no risking it. There was always the off chance that she would get curious, and she already had reason enough not to trust him.

  “Finnegan,” came a low purr behind him.

  He recognized the tone that rippled beneath the surface of the smooth caramel voice, and it made his skin crawl.

  “Yes, Ms. Lorraine. How can I help you?”

  The calm deference of his demeanor did not change with her entrance into the cabin. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it provocatively, eyeing him from head to foot, foot to head.

  “Mr. Finnegan? Or should I call you something else.”

  Damn. Eva finding him in her and her husband’s stateroom could not possibly have been what raised her suspicions. As steward, he was expected to make routine checks in the guest rooms. Even the straightening of linens in the drawers of the mahogany dresser was in line with his job description. So what had triggered the blackmailing essence of her opening statement?

  Anna. It was a possibility. She could have ratted him out. But to Eva?

  He continued straightening the satin navy and cream quilts on the bed, waiting for Ms. Lorraine to continue. Eventually she did.

  “Quite convenient for you that Jones hoofed it wasn’t it?”

  He replaced the pillows he had been fluffing and stood to face her. The cramped space of even the largest stateroom allowed no more than a few feet to separate them. “Lucky for me he did ma’am, I need the work.”

  He saw her slightly cringe at the matronly title. “Oh please. You expect me to believe you just fell into this job. My husband may be easy, but you will find I am not. I hired Jones personally; he wouldn’t have just wandered off like that.”

  “People don’t always behave the way we expect them to.”

  “You’re working for them aren’t you?”

  “I’m sorry ma’am; I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Don’t play dumb. Anyone who has the cojones to turn a Bloody Mary into a lethal w
eapon without fear of arousing suspicion in his victim is quite the talent. It may have been brilliant, but it could’ve cost you. It’s going to cost you. I know you’re here for the plans. But I should warn you, he doesn’t take very kindly to double-cross. He’s funny that way. Prefers to be paid instead of pilfered.”

  Although his face retained its polite façade, he took a deliberate step towards her. She recognized his intent at intimidation, and held her ground. “He won’t like that.”

  “Your husband?”

  She laughed. “James? You think he’s involved? Don’t be so daft.”

  “Who set up the deal then?”

  “I did.”

  He looked at her in scoffing disbelief. She took a step towards him and slid her arms across his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck. She could feel his muscles tense, but other than that, he did not move, nor did the contempt in his eyes show any signs of retreat. She laughed again. “Well sure, it’s the Raven’s deal, but I was the one who brought everyone together, and if I were you, I wouldn’t test his good graces, or mine.” Letting her arms fall, she took a step back, resuming her seductive stance in front of the door, in front of his exit.