“This is the entrance to the back yard,” Kathleen whispered, swinging the lantern around.
Annie stopped and saw that she was pointing to an overgrown path that led from the alley toward the house, which bulked up against the night sky. A three-quarter moon had started its climb upwards, not yet erased by the nightly creep of fog from the west. Looking up, Annie didn’t see any lights in the upstairs, and she was transported to a night this past summer when she looked up at the darkened windows of a house full of danger and death. A wave of fear raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Nate came up behind her, putting his warm hand on her shoulder, and the spell was broken.
Chapter Thirty
Sunday evening, October 26, 1879
“Mrs. C. H. Sawyer will hold Materializing Séances in the light, without a cabinet, every evening except Saturday. Honest investigators can call and see for themselves.”
—San Francisco Chronicle, 1879
“I am so glad you made it,” Biddy said. “Everyone’s gone, and Mrs. Nickerson asked me this afternoon if I would mind staying past ten, since she and Evie May are attending a party. They are the ones most likely to return early, so this should give you at least until nine. Kathleen will stay here in the kitchen, and if Albert or anyone else should come in the back way, she can just say I asked her to come visit. What can they do to me, ’cept fire me, and I plan on giving my notice the end of next week, anyway. Larkson’s Woolen Mills are hiring, and I’ve already been promised a job.” Biddy positively beamed.
Annie stood blinking in the blaze of lights from multiple lamps placed around the kitchen, a large but comfortable room that smelled strongly of cinnamon. She was rather overwhelmed by Biddy’s enthusiasm.
Biddy continued, “Mr. Dawson, Mrs. Fuller, please let me take your coats and hat. And take these candles, if’n you please. Not as heavy as an oil lamp and easier to snuff out quick if someone comes.” She pointed to three candlestick holders with lighted candles that sat on the kitchen table, taking up one herself. “I figured you would want to start with the séance rooms. Such luck, Albert was in a hurry this afternoon and let me into the back room to take care of the fireplace. I was able to put a bit of sticking plaster over the lock on the back parlor door as I left, so you shouldn’t have any trouble getting in.”
Annie, content to let the young servant girl lead the way, smiled over at Nate and picked up a candle. As they left the kitchen, Biddy pointed to the door on the left and said, “That’s the door down to the cellars, but I am afraid it’s locked. I did bring a crowbar from home today and stashed it in the woodpile. So if you have time, you might try and break the lock on the trap door on the side of the house.”
Annie muttered to Nate who had come up beside her, “Biddy’s thought of everything. You don’t think she is really a housebreaker in her spare time, do you?”
Biddy held the door to the front hallway open for them, and they could see a lamp burning on the hallstand near the front door. She handed her candle to Annie, turned towards the door to the smaller back parlor where Evie May’s cabinet sat, jiggled the doorknob a little, and then slowly pulled the door open.
“See, the plaster worked just as I hoped, it kept the little tongue from sticking in all the way when Albert turned the key in the lock. He was in such a rush he didn’t notice. Evie May had been in the room all afternoon with those ‘private sittings,’ poor girl, and I needed to clean out the fireplace and lay the logs for a new fire, as well as dust. He never lets me in those rooms by myself, and I could tell he was anxious for me to finish up so he could go up and get dressed for his night on the town. Sunday nights he replaces his butler togs with a flashy get-up. Shows his real colors, you might say.” Biddy giggled and moved aside to let Annie and Nate into the room.
She darted to the windows and made sure the curtains were pulled completely tight; then she opened the doors to the bigger front parlor and checked the curtains there. Going over to an oil lamp that sat on the mantel, she lighted it, turning the flame to a medium height. Since the lamp was up against a mirror, the reflection increased the visibility in the room enough so that Annie and Nate could move around freely.
“Ma’am, I will just go out to the front hall now. I’ll shout out if I see anyone coming up the walk, but I think you should have at least an hour before anyone could possibly return. If you want, when you are done with these rooms, I will take you for a quick tour upstairs.” With this statement, Biddy sketched a curtsy and left the parlor.
Annie sprang into action. Crossing to the side of the table where Arabella always sat , she pulled up her skirts and knelt down onto the carpet, saying, “Nate, please come over here and try to lift this end of the table.” Placing her candleholder on the floor, she ran her hand down the table leg under the velvet tablecloth that draped almost to the floor, and Nate came to stand near her and began to lift the edge of the table.
“Damn, I thought these tables were supposed to be light as a feather, easy for the medium to levitate upwards,” said Nate. “Annie, what are you doing?”
As she slipped her hand under the leg of the table, Annie replied, “Don’t let go, or you will smash my hand. There is some sort of metal rod that comes out of the bottom and goes down through a hole in the carpet. I think it goes all the way through the floor. Here, let’s trade places. You take a look.”
Annie sat back, showing him her hands were now safe, and Nate put the table down and leaned over and helped her up. Annie straightened her skirts and petticoats, which had gotten hung up nearly to her knees, showing an immodest amount of silk encased calves and ankles. She hoped Nate hadn’t noticed, congratulating herself for choosing one of her older outfits, with the unfashionable but wider skirts. At least she had been able to get down and up without falling over.
Noticing that Nate was now bending down to look under the table, she said, “You know, it might not be that the table is that heavy, but that the rod has added weight to it. How difficult would it be to make the table shake and rock if someone down below was pushing upward on one of the rods?” Straining to lift up the table edge, Annie said, “Do you see what I mean?”
Nate kneeled down and pulled his candle back so that its light reached where the table leg met the floor. Then he lifted up the tablecloth and put his head all the way down on the floor where he could see the small space Annie had created. He said, “Well, what do you know. There is a rod.” He scrambled up and went to one of the other table legs, kneeling down and pulling the leg up enough to feel under it. “There’s one here too. What do you bet that Albert is the one who goes down during the séances and works whatever mechanism these rods are attached to. Guess we might want to take a look at those cellars after all.”
Meanwhile, Annie had kneeled down to run her fingers over the carpet where Arabella’s feet would be during a séance. She sat back on her heels for a moment, not finding what she had been looking for. “Mrs. Hunt said we should find some sort of lever or button here, but I can’t feel anything. Wait, what if it is Simon who does the signaling?”
Annie scrambled up and went to the opposite end of the table and kneeled down, exclaiming, “Nate, it’s just as Mrs. Hunt said it would be. There is some sort of metal lever, almost flush with the carpet. If it is connected by wire, either to the cellars or the room upstairs, it could be a way for Simon to signal, for example, when it’s time to start the music or rock the table. In fact, it might be his way of letting Arabella know what he thinks should happen next. He signals for piano music, and she shifts out of one spirit and into another.”
Annie pulled herself up, using the chair and table, and then snatched up her candle and went to the fireplace where the servant’s bell pull was located. She bent down to look at the wood that edged the fireplace and pointed out a wire to Nate who had come up beside her. “Look, this comes up from the floor, right along the edge of the wood and the wall paneling. The wire parallels the bell pull, but goes right up to the ceiling.”
Nate l
ooked to where she was pointing and said, “I think it would be useful to see what that wire connects to in the room above. You mentioned that there must be holes in the ceiling, to help direct the light and sounds downward. If we can get into the rooms upstairs, we might have a better idea how that would work. The ceiling is too high in this room to see from here.”
Turning off the lamp on the mantel and then going back into the hallway, they found Biddy standing on a chair, looking out the fanlight over the door. She hopped down and relit her candle, taking them up the stairs to the second floor while they told her what they were looking for.
“I don’t know that we will be able to get into those rooms,” said Biddy. “Albert’s wife takes care of the Framptons’ rooms; the only places I am allowed to clean upstairs are the hallway, Mrs. Nickerson and Evie May’s room, and the bathroom.”
Going over and trying the doors to the Framptons’ two rooms above the séance parlors and then Albert and his wife’s room, Biddy found all of them locked. Shrugging, she said, “Do you want to see the Nickersons’ room? It isn’t usually locked,” showing them a door at the end of the hallway.
Annie, squashing her disappointment, replied, “I guess so. I wanted to check out Evie May’s room anyway, to see how she was able to get out of the house on Friday. Did Kathleen have a chance to tell you about all the excitement when she went missing, and Kathleen running into her dressed like a young man?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Biddy. “Kathleen came to St. Boniface this morning for mass. She wanted to check to see if everything was still on for tonight. She told me then. I must say that girl is a strange one. Here’s the room she shares with her mother. That would be the window she got in by.”
Evie May’s bed was up under the window while her mother’s was across the room. By candle light, Annie couldn’t make out much beyond how crowded the room was. It contained two beds, two large wardrobes, and a dressing table cluttered with small bottles, powder puffs, tangled jewelry, scarves, combs and brushes. She went over to Evie May’s bed and looked closely at the windowsill.
“Nate, I can see where something has scored the wood on the sill.” She felt down between the mattress and the wall. “Oh, my, look what is stuffed under the mattress.” Annie pulled out a long sturdy hemp rope. “I wonder what she attaches it too. Would the bed be heavy enough?”
Nate, who had gone over to a door that was in the back wall, said, “Miss Bridget, where does this door lead to? It seems locked.”
Biddy said, “That opens on a set of stairs that go up to that square tower on the roof. I don’t know why it’s locked. Evie May often plays up there. Just some old furniture and trunks. Here, I remember seeing a key on her mother’s dresser.”
Biddy moved several strands of glass beads, revealed a small china saucer, and triumphantly brandished an old-fashioned iron key on a long cord. Before she could hand the key to Nate, Annie slipped off the bed and took it from her, saying, “Let me look at it. I just had a thought. The same key opened all the interior doors in Aunt Agatha’s house when I first inherited it. I had to pay to have new locks installed in all the rooms when I turned it into a boarding house. Maybe this key opens up one of the Framptons’ rooms.”
“Let’s go see,” Nate said. “It’s more important for us to get into those rooms than check out an attic playroom, and we don’t have that much time left.”
Annie found her heart beating rapidly as she stuck the key into the lock of the room that was directly over the front parlor. Nate and Biddy pressed in close behind her. The key went in easily, but it wouldn’t turn at first. She jiggled it a little and tried again. Suddenly it turned; she heard an audible click and the doorknob began to turn.
“We’re in!” Biddy cried.
Annie stopped, with the door partially opened. Handing the key back to Biddy, she said, “Bridget, I am starting to get nervous about the time that has passed. If you stand in the window at the end of the hallway, you should be able to see to the street. Let us know if anyone comes down the street or pulls up in a carriage. But, blow out your candle. Mr. Dawson and I will search the room.”
Annie and Nate then went into the room, which appeared to be a sitting room. Before looking around, Annie checked to make sure that the curtains were closed. “I think we better risk lighting one of these,” she said, moving over to a lamp on a nearby table. She pulled up the glass chimney so she could touch the wick with her candle flame as she turned the crank. She then blew out her candle to conserve it.
Nate exclaimed, “This is where the mischief is done, that’s for sure. No wonder they never let Biddy into this room.”
In addition to the usual chairs and tables you would find in any woman’s sitting room, there was an old upright piano. On a shelf next to it sat a tambourine, a set of small drums, and a mandolin. Annie walked over and picked up a brightly-painted gourd that gave off a shushing sound.
“I wondered what made that sound,” said Annie. “Listen to this! Just imagine hearing it while you sat in the dark.” Annie had picked up a thin piece of metal that made an eerie, warbling sound when she shook it up and down.
Nate lifted a long, twisted, funnel-shaped metal object off the shelf. “Annie, what do you think this is?” He put the narrow end to his mouth and blew into it, but it didn’t make any distinctive noise.
Annie laughed, took it from him, and carefully placed the narrow end over his ear as she talked into the wide end of the funnel.
Nate jumped back, startled, and then he said, “Oh, I understand now, it’s an ear trumpet for someone hard of hearing. If it was placed in a hole in the floor while the musical instruments were being played, it would amplify the sound.”
Annie looked down at the floor, noticing for the first time that there was a rug in the middle of the floor that was too small for the size of the room. When she bent and flipped it over, she saw several holes drilled into the wood floor. The small end of the speaking trumpet fit perfectly into the holes.
Nate stood looking down at the holes very thoughtfully, and then he took the device from Annie and flipped it over, putting the wider end over the hole and said, “You know, if you used it the other way around, it would make it easier to hear what was going on down below.”
“Albert’s wife must be a very talented lady, a virtual one-man-band, to play all these instruments,” Annie said. “Albert probably comes up to help her when he isn’t running down to the cellars to shake the table. Now that I think about it, on Friday the table didn’t shake but once or twice, and the musical interludes were pretty tepid. He must have been busy looking for Evie May throughout most of the séance.”
As she had been speaking, Annie had gone over to the wall that held the room’s fireplace. “Nate, there is a wire coming up from the floor, just like we thought we would find. If you look behind this table, you can see it is attached to a little bell, like you find in kitchens. Simon would just have to step on the lever at his feet and this bell would chime. They might even have a code of sorts, probably worked out in their earlier magic and mesmerism acts. What are you doing?”
Annie had noticed that Nate had picked up the oil lamp and was setting it down on the floor, near one of the holes.
“I just wondered what would happen if you shone a light over these holes,” Nate replied. “Would you have noticed?”
“I think so. It would have looked like a spot of light on the table, you know, the way moonlight will come in if there is a hole in the shade. They must keep the lights turned down very low during the séances. There were shafts of light, however, in the next room, the one with the cabinet. And sitting at the table you wouldn’t be able to see the ceiling; the door frame would be in the way. Let’s see what is next door.”
Nate walked over, opened the door that connected the sitting room to Simon and Arabella’s bedroom, and walked in. Since he took both his candle and the oil lamp with him, Annie found herself plunged into darkness. While her eyes adjusted to the dim glow coming from t
he next room, she couldn’t help but think about how frightening all this would have been if she had been exploring the house without Nate. Even knowing that Kathleen was downstairs and Biddy was outside in the hallway didn’t bring her the comfort of having Nate close at hand.
Once she could see clearly enough to maneuver, she located her candle and followed Nate into the bedroom. He stood in the center of the floor, the oil lamp held high, giving her a good look at the whole room. At first glance, it appeared pretty innocuous. There was a substantial double bed, a wardrobe, and a dressing table that, while neater than Mrs. Nickerson’s, held even more objects designed to maintain a woman’s beauty. Then Annie noticed that the bed was oddly placed, crammed up along the outside wall, its end at right angles to the room’s fireplace.
You simply didn’t put a bed up against an outside wall and under a window, unless there wasn’t an alternative. She had unconsciously thought how selfish Mrs. Nickerson had been to take the inside wall of their bedroom, leaving Evie May to sleep on the colder end of the room. But there wasn’t any reason for Simon and Arabella’s bed to be were it was, subjecting their bodies to the cold drafts from the window and their feet to the scorching heat from the fireplace. There wasn’t any reason, unless you wanted to leave the floor in the center of the room clear of furniture.
Nate must have come to the same conclusion because he had put the lamp down on the dresser and was now rolling the rug back. Annie walked over and saw there were three metal plates set into the floor, two set about four feet apart about a third of the way in the room, the third set about two feet further in the room, equidistant between the other two. If you connected the plates you would have a triangle.
“What in heaven’s name are those for?” she asked Nate, who had knelt down and was doing something with the plate farthest away from her.
Uneasy Spirits: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery Page 23