The Black Midnight

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The Black Midnight Page 13

by Kathleen Y'Barbo


  As soon as she finished, Annie shrugged. “That’ll have to do, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” Miss Hattie said. “I’ve never heard such a voice.”

  “Nor I,” Pop agreed. “You’ve had classical training. I’d stake my rock collection on it.”

  “Just a teacher who took an interest in some vocal training.” She shook her head. “Truly, it’s nothing extraordinary. I thank you for saying so though. And thank you for your hospitality. I’m having a wonderful time.”

  Pop continued to praise her until Ike figured Annie had enough. “Okay, Pop. You’re embarrassing her. How about we go open our gifts now?”

  “Yes,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “That sounds like a great idea. Follow me, family.”

  Family. Ike looked over at Annie and decided she hadn’t caught the reference. Oh, but he had. In that moment, Ike knew he wanted every Christmas to be like this.

  He wanted Annie Walters to be his family.

  Ike settled next to Annie on the settee, and Miss Hattie took the chair next to the window. That left Pop to pass out the wrapped gifts from beneath the tree.

  “Miss Walters, since you’re our guest, why don’t you go first?”

  She still looked embarrassed, but the flush in her cheeks made her even prettier. “I certainly didn’t expect anyone to buy me a gift. This is unexpected.” Annie looked up at Ike. “Is this from you?”

  He smiled. He nodded. Then he panicked when he realized he had no idea what was in the box she so gingerly held in her hands.

  Annie lifted the lid, peered into the box, and then looked up at him and smiled. “How did you know it was this one?” came out on a rush of breath.

  Ike wisely kept his mouth shut. There was no good and truthful answer he could offer. Nor did he have any idea what she was talking about.

  She pulled a silver watch pin from the box, her face now radiant, and quickly attached it to her dress. Then Annie looked over at him. “I was looking at this just this afternoon but couldn’t justify such an expensive purchase.”

  Expensive. Of course. Oh well. It was worth every penny of whatever he’d just spent to make her smile like that.

  “Thank you, Isaiah.”

  He managed a nod, acutely aware he was not worthy of the admiration he saw in her eyes.

  “Your turn, Hattie,” Pop declared.

  “Oh no,” she said. “I want to go last so I can see everyone else’s first. You go, Ikey.”

  He opened the first gift, a pen that looked suspiciously like the one he’d purchased for his father. “I thought you might be able to use that in your work,” Pop told him. “Hattie picked it out, so it’s from both of us.”

  “I can, yes, thank you both.” He reached for the other box and slid Annie a sideways look. “What have you done, Annie Walters?”

  “Just looking out for my own interests.” She punctuated the statement with a grin as he opened the box.

  Inside was a silver pocket watch that almost exactly matched the watch he’d given her. The only exceptions were the size and the silver chain from which it was strung.

  “No more having to worry about my partner not knowing the time,” she quipped.

  Ike held the watch in his palm. The gift was extraordinary. And thoughtful.

  Just like her.

  He was about to say this when Pop ruined the moment.

  “Look what I’ve got from my son.” Pop held up the pen Ike had purchased. “We think alike. That’s not surprising.”

  It also was not completely true since Lucy the clerk had picked out the pen. But Ike went along with the statement and nodded. Pop also exclaimed at length over the cuff links Annie had purchased and the scarf Miss Hattie had knitted for him using her preciously guarded Irish yarn.

  Then it was Miss Hattie’s turn. “That one first,” Pop told her as he delivered the gift from Annie, which was well received. Then Ike’s gift, which she exclaimed over.

  “Now this one.” Pop handed her a small box. “Go on and open it, Hattie.”

  She lifted the lid on the box and peered inside, then looked back up at Pop. Tears filled her eyes. “Seth, it’s beautiful.”

  “What is it?” Ike asked.

  Miss Hattie retrieved something small and shiny from the box, then held it out in her palm. “It’s a pin. An emerald pin.”

  “Emeralds for my Irish lass.” Pop stood in front of her and retrieved the pin from her hand. “It’ll look lovely on you, Hattie.”

  “Thank you,” she said, dipping her head. “And to think I only knitted a scarf for you.”

  Pop lifted her chin with his finger and smiled. Then he dropped to one knee in front of her. “And I’m not deserving of that scarf. Or you, Hattie. I’ve been a blind and crotchety old man since well before I was old. And you’ve put up with all of it.”

  She chuckled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “When you put it that way, maybe you’re right. You don’t deserve my Irish yarn. I should have used the stuff I bought at the department store down the road.”

  They all laughed, but Pop quickly sobered. “Hattie O’Mara. I put a pin in that box that reminded me of you. Emeralds to match your eyes. I would like to have put a ring in there though.”

  “Why didn’t you, Pop?” Ike blurted out before he could stop himself. For a smart man, sometimes his father was stupid.

  “Because if she’ll have me, she can pick out her own ring. This woman’s of the opinionated sort.” He paused to smile at her. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. So what’s it going to be, Hattie? Dare you take me on and be my wife, knowing what you know about me?”

  “Seth, I’ll take you on and be your wife in spite of what I know about you. How’s that?”

  “I’ll take that deal,” Pop said. “Now to plan a wedding. Nothing outlandish, but we ought to invite the faculty. And the dean too. Oh, and if we’re going to do things up right, we will need to settle on a date and a location to celebrate after. What do you say to that, Hattie?”

  “I say that sounds dandy,” she told him. “But now that we’re to be married, I’ll be moving out of the attic. Wouldn’t be right for me to remain in the house.”

  Pop looked stricken. “Where will you go? And what will I do without you?”

  “I suppose I’ll go pay a visit to my sister in Galveston until it is time for the wedding. That’d be the proper way to do it. As to how you’ll get along, Seth, that’ll be up to you to decide and to remedy. But don’t you bring a housemaid into my home. She’d just mess up things, and I won’t have it.”

  Ike laughed, but Pop did not. “All right. That settles it. We’ll make a trip to the jeweler’s on Monday morning and the courthouse right after to settle up the licenses and such. If I have my way, you’ll be Mrs. Joplin by sundown on December 28th. If you still want to see your sister, we can plan a honeymoon in Galveston before the spring semester begins at the university.”

  “Whatever you think, Seth,” Miss Hattie said.

  “I think I’d rather go hunt up the judge and have him marry us tonight, but it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m afraid I’d end up in jail instead. Now who wants wassail?”

  “I would love some,” Annie said. “I haven’t had any since…” Her voice trailed off. “Well, it has been a very long time.”

  Later that night, Pop insisted on bringing the mistletoe indoors so he could steal a kiss from his future wife. Then the clock struck midnight, and Pop declared it was time to douse the candles on the tree.

  “I’ll just get those dishes cleaned up,” Miss Hattie said.

  “Leave them,” Pop told her. “They’ll wait until tomorrow. You’ve worked all day. Get some sleep.”

  “I want to argue, but I won’t.”

  “I don’t mind,” Annie said. “Ike and I can clean up.”

  Miss Hattie’s expression brightened. “Thank you. Just don’t let Ikey break any dishes.”

  “I haven’t broken a dish since I was seven,” he protested.
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  “And you haven’t washed dishes since then either,” she said with a yawn as she headed for the stairs. “Good night, all, and since we’re past midnight and into the next day, Merry Christmas to the lot of you.”

  Pop bid her good night and disappeared into his office, leaving Annie and Ike to keep their promise to Miss Hattie. “Give me just a minute,” he said to Annie. “I need to speak to my father.”

  Annie frowned. “You’re not going to try to talk him out of this, are you? They appear quite happy.”

  “Not at all,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  As expected, Pop was at his desk poring over a book on rocks. He looked up at Ike. “I’m not surprised to see you, but are you sure you want to shirk your dishwashing chores? Annie seems awfully nice.”

  “I’m not shirking, and she is. But I’ve got to know what changed, Pop.”

  His brows gathered. “What do you mean?”

  “The man I talked to earlier wasn’t at all the man I saw tonight. You proposed marriage to Miss Hattie, for goodness’ sakes. Two days ago you couldn’t be bothered to come home for a meal or notice the efforts she went to on your behalf.”

  The wooden desk chair squeaked as he leaned back and grinned. “I cannot disagree with any of that. I guess you could say I had some sense knocked into me tonight.”

  “By Mr. Slanton?” Ike guessed.

  Pop shrugged. “I deserved it. But we’re now clear on just which of us will be spending time with Hattie O’Mara. And it won’t be Slanton unless Mrs. Joplin decides to do her shopping there. Which I will discourage. Beyond that, I am not prepared to discuss it.”

  “Okay, so you’re not going to give me the details. I understand.” Ike chuckled. “I’m just glad it happened. Whatever it was. And congratulations on coming to your senses and marrying Miss Hattie. You two will be happy together.”

  “We always have been,” he said. “Even when we were fussing, we were still happy, if that makes sense. She’s a woman of strong opinions, and, well, I’m a man.”

  “Isaiah,” Annie called. “Come quickly, please.”

  Ike frowned and hurried to find her standing in the front hallway with the door half open and cold air drifting in. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “I’m listening to the sound of men shouting. And possibly alarms of some kind?”

  He moved to stand beside her, and Pop followed. “What is it?” his father asked.

  The sound of men’s raised voices echoed toward them from the street. Bells, possibly from the church several blocks away, were ringing.

  “Pop, go get the lantern from the porch,” Ike said as he reached for his coat. “I’ll see what’s happening.”

  Annie snatched up her coat and slipped into it, then pulled her gloves out of the pocket.

  Pop returned with the lantern and handed it to Ike. “I’ll get my coat and go with you.”

  “And leave Miss Hattie alone?” he asked. “Do you think that’s wise? We don’t know what the cause of all the commotion is.”

  “Last time the alarms sounded like that in the middle of the night, the madman had struck. Surely he hasn’t killed again.”

  “I’m hoping not,” Ike told him. “Let’s believe that the work of the Black Midnight has chased the murderer off. This may be something as simple as a fire or a brawl that got out of hand.”

  “On Christmas?” he asked, doubtful.

  “A fire? Most likely. A brawl?” Ike shrugged. “It’s possible. Annie and I will be back as soon as we’ve determined what’s happening.”

  Annie stepped out onto the porch, and Ike followed. Pop closed the door behind them, then tapped on the window to wave them on.

  The sounds of shouting grew louder, as did the horse hooves of a rider coming down the street. “The Midnight Assassin has killed again,” the rider shouted. “He’s done killed again.”

  “Stop! I’m a Pinkerton detective and I need details,” Ike demanded. “Where did he strike?”

  The rider pulled his mount to a halt and circled back around to meet up with Ike and Annie. He was a young man, likely not out of his teens, and although the clouds had cleared, the bitter cold wind had turned his face a deep crimson.

  “Hickory Street,” he said. “Mr. Allen, he’s the neighbor, told me to fetch the police, but by the time I got there, they’d already heard the commotion and sent someone.”

  Annie’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the street where we delivered the young woman after the governor’s dinner a few days ago?”

  “Eula Phillips,” Ike offered. “And yes.”

  “Phillips,” the rider said. “Yes, that’s where the madman struck.”

  Chapter 17

  Annie thought of the quiet girl whom she’d met at the governor’s dinner. She’d seemed frail and jumpy, as if a strong wind would blow her away and a loud noise might make her faint.

  “Oh, Isaiah, that’s horrible. That sweet girl must be terrified. It’s not far, as I recall. Should we just walk?”

  “It would take too long to hitch a horse to the buggy,” he said. “It’s this way.”

  They made their way to Hickory Street on foot, slushing through the ice and mud with a bleak wind blowing out of the north. If Annie didn’t know better, she would think she’d stepped into a Chicago winter night, not one in Austin, Texas.

  “I thought it was bad out here earlier,” Ike said. “But it’s even worse now.”

  A crowd had gathered outside, trampling the wide lawn that had looked pristine and lovely a few days ago. Several members of the police department were doing a poor job of trying to control the crowd while the mayor himself stood on the front porch speaking in angry tones to another man.

  The commotion seemed to center on the back of the house, so Annie followed Ike around the side of the structure. Several dozen men stood in the yard, some with lanterns, seeming to be looking for something on the ground. Others stood in groups of two or three.

  “Who is in charge here?” Isaiah called, displaying the badge that identified him as a Pinkerton detective. Annie retrieved hers and showed it as well.

  “I’m John Abrahamson, sir,” a young man said. “The man you’re looking for is the city marshal. Likely you’ll find him inside.”

  “What happened here?” Annie asked him. “Has another serving girl been done for?”

  “I don’t know for sure, ma’am,” he told her. “My friends and I were walking down the street, and we heard shouts that someone had been murdered. Two of them went to the police station, and I walked around to the back to see what was going on. It was there I saw the man.”

  “What man?”

  “Jimmy Phillips,” he said. “He’d been hurt and was bleeding about the head something awful. I stopped at the door, so that’s all I saw. He wasn’t dead, but I know the shouts we’d heard earlier were about murder.”

  “What about his wife and son?” Isaiah said. “Were they victims?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I just know I saw Jimmy, and if he’s still alive when the sun comes up, it’ll be a miracle. I think someone’s gone for Dr. Litton, or maybe it was Dr. Cummings, but if either of them can fix this, I’ll be surprised.”

  The young man was babbling, not that Annie blamed him. “We were told the Midnight Assassin had struck again. Why would anyone think that?”

  “Might be the ax that was lying on the bed beside Jimmy,” he said. “The Assassin killed with an ax, didn’t he?”

  Annie nodded and stepped away, returning her badge to its place in her pocket. If the Midnight Assassin had indeed struck here, it would fit the pattern to leave a man gravely injured at the hands of an ax. But there would also be a murder victim, whom no one had found yet.

  This home, as well as others on the street, had a back lawn that stretched down to a copse of trees at the back of the property beyond the fence line. On the other side of the trees stood another home, as witnessed by the lights she could see when the wind blew.

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nbsp; With the storm over, bright light from the moon made the perimeter easy to see. Several outbuildings were located in different places a distance from the house. All their doors were closed, indicating to Annie that no one had searched inside them yet.

  “Look out in the back,” she called to the men with the lanterns. “Behind these structures at the fence line and beyond. And check in the smaller structures, but be careful. The killer could be hiding in there.”

  The men all stopped in their tracks to look at Annie, but none of them moved. “Is there something wrong with your hearing, men?” Isaiah shouted. “You heard the detective. Do it.”

  “Isaiah, this isn’t our crime scene,” Annie whispered. “I was just making a suggestion.”

  “Since I don’t see anyone in charge out here, I don’t see a problem with suggesting a better alternative to whatever they’re doing.” He shrugged. “Plus, you’re right. If there’s a body, it won’t be out here in plain sight. The killer has been moving his victims farther from the house with each kill. So it was a good suggestion. Now let’s go see what’s happening inside and find the city marshal.”

  Annie nodded in agreement. She got as far as the door, where she spied the victim, Jimmy Phillips, lying in a pool of blood. Next to him was an ax, just as the witness had said.

  “There’s a trail of blood,” someone called. “Get the dogs.”

  A man with two bloodhounds on leashes came hurrying around the corner. After being shown to the spot in question, he put the animals to their task and released them.

  “They’ll find something,” he shouted as he followed the barking canines. “They always do.”

  Before she could go inside to investigate further, a shout went up from the back of the property behind what appeared to be an outhouse. “We’ve got her!”

  Annie went running, but Isaiah got there first. The men gathered around something that was draining blood in rivulets in the snow, but she could not see past their tight circle. By the light of the multiple lanterns that were present, she spied a blood spot about an inch long on a plank near the top of the nearby fence. It looked like something left behind by a thumb or finger.

 

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