by Rhys Bowen
“There it is. That’s San Francisco,” someone exclaimed, further down the car. We stood up and looked out of the window. We were skirting the side of a great bay, which was liberally dotted with the masts of many ships. And on the other side a city rose, its buildings clinging to the sides of steep hills. There was no sign of that fog that Daniel had written about, but the backdrop of the city was a brilliant blue sky.
“Does the train have to go around this bay to reach the city?” I asked Roberts, who had appeared to help take down bags.
“No, ma’am. We come into Oakland, not San Francisco. You have to take the ferry across the Bay.”
“Oh, I see,” I said. At the end of such a long journey to be faced with one more complication was almost too much to bear. I was immediately disgusted at my weakness. Perhaps Daniel had been right and I was too frail to travel.
Roberts must have noticed my face. “No problem, ma’am. There will be plenty of porters waiting to help you with the bags. You just stay put and I’ll find one for you. You’ll be over in the city in no time at all.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he said, touching his hand to his cap. I wished I had a bigger tip to give him, but he seemed to understand my modest amount.
He was as good as his word, returning with a sturdy fellow who located my trunk, which was already sitting on the platform, and bade me follow him to the ferry. We went up the gangway and the porter found a seat for me on deck, setting my bags beside me. It seemed Mr. Paxton had followed me, keeping an eye on me, which was kind of him. He came to sit beside me, having just the one small suitcase.
“You travel light, Mr. Paxton,” I said.
He smiled. “I am only here until the company arrives and are settled into their hotels. Then I’m to return to New York.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At the Palace Hotel,” he said. “Our leading lights will be staying there, so they’ve kindly granted me a room for a few days to make sure everything is to their liking.”
“Is the Palace the leading hotel in town?”
“It is. I’ve heard it is almost as impressive as a real palace. The lesser lights of the company are booked into not-so-grand hotels and the musicians into boardinghouses.”
“Do you have the name of some of these boardinghouses?” I asked. “One of them might be what I’m looking for.”
“I’m afraid I don’t, Mrs. Sullivan. I am only charged with making sure our stars are well taken care of.”
With a loud toot the ferry’s paddle wheels started churning and we moved away from our dock. Liam watched this new experience with wonder. Did he remember traveling on a ship a year ago? I wondered. But then it had been a big ocean liner, not a small craft like this. A stiff wind whipped across the water, making me hang on to my hat with one hand, my son’s jacket with the other.
“I’ll take him for you,” Mr. Paxton said. “Come on, boy, let’s go and take a look over the side, shall we?”
“Be careful with him,” I called after them. “He can be a handful.”
But I watched as he held Liam firmly in his arms and pointed out various wonders to him. Our captain had to sound his horn frequently for smaller vessels to get out of his way. Strange Oriental faces looked up from sailing boats of various sizes. Larger steam vessels lay anchored. We picked a path between them until a tall tower came into view and the building proclaimed itself the San Francisco Ferry Building.
More porters swarmed aboard and again I followed my luggage down a gangplank.
“Where to now, lady?” my porter asked. He was a rough-looking fellow, unshaven, and with tattoos over his bare arms like a sailor.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I have to find a hotel room. Do you know of one nearby?”
“You’re looking for a hotel room?” He started to laugh. “Ma’am, you won’t find a hotel room in this whole city right now.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded, staring at the grinning porter. “Surely there are plenty of hotel rooms in a city this size?”
“Sure there are, ma’am. But all of ’em are full right now. Unless you’ve come with a sack full of money, you’re going to be out of luck.”
“Are hotels so expensive in this city?”
“Not normally,” he said. “Although the Palace and the St. Francis will set you back a fair bit. But frankly I don’t think you’ll find a room for love nor money at the moment and if you do, they’ll be asking a hundred dollars a night or more.”
“A hundred dollars a night? For a simple room?”
He shrugged. “It’s this Caruso fellow. The whole place has gone mad. Folks have come from all over the West to hear him sing and pretty much every hotel room is taken for the next few days. And if one is still available, they are asking the moon for it—and getting it.”
Mr. Paxton was still standing close by and heard all this. He came up and tapped me on the shoulder. “I’ve a suggestion, Mrs. Sullivan. You only need the room until you meet up with your husband, don’t you? And that should not take you too long. I’ve a block of rooms reserved for our singers. I see no reason why you shouldn’t occupy one of those until the company arrives. That won’t be until tomorrow at the earliest and will give you a day or two’s breathing room.”
“Mr. Paxton, I couldn’t,” I stammered. “Not at the Palace Hotel. I couldn’t afford it, for one thing.”
He grinned. “The rooms are reserved and paid for, as we weren’t sure when the company train would arrive. So I suggest you make the most of it. All it will mean is that the maid has to change the sheets, which she would have done anyway.”
“I’d take him up on it, lady,” the porter said. “You’ll likely not find another room until Caruso has done his singing and gone home. And the Palace—well, you can’t do better than that, can you?”
I looked at Mr. Paxton and of course it had by now dawned on me that the Palace Hotel was where I had spotted Daniel in the newsreel. It would be the perfect place to start searching for him. “Thank you,” I said. “Just for tonight, I accept with gratitude.”
Eleven
Our bags were loaded onto the back of an open dogcart. We were assisted up to the seat and we set off down a long straight street. This part of the city was flat, in contrast to those hills I had seen from the ferry, and it was only a minute or two later that the carriage turned into a circular forecourt of a magnificent building, some six or seven stories high. Bellboys in livery swarmed to assist us and whisk away our bags as we were escorted inside. I think I gasped as we entered a central foyer with balconies rising all around it, topped by a glass ceiling. Tables and chairs were interspersed with potted palms. It was the scene I had witnessed in the movie, but the camera had not shown me the size or scope of it. Truly magnificent. But I had little time to gaze as Mr. Paxton had gone ahead. I hurried to catch him as he entered a large vaulted room with a marble tiled floor. Our footsteps echoed as we were led across to a reception desk.
I hung back while Mr. Paxton checked in and then explained that I would be using one of the rooms he had reserved for the opera company until their rightful occupant arrived. The desk clerk gave me an appraising glance and I could tell from the look that he was reading more into this than the truth. He obviously suspected that I was Mr. Paxton’s fancy woman, even though I held a squirming baby in my arms. But he was paid not to judge or ask questions. He handed two keys to waiting bellhops.
We rode an elevator to the fifth floor and I was led along the corridor opening onto the central court, and then ushered into a magnificent room. Its window looked down Market Street to the ferry building and to the Bay beyond. It was so sumptuously appointed that I almost feared to touch anything.
The bellboy put down my carpetbag, then said, “Did madam not bring a maid with her?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then madam will not need to be shown her maid’s room.” His expression showed disappointment in me. “Will the i
nfant be requiring a crib, madam?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. You see I’m not staying long. Probably only one night until I meet up with my husband.”
“It’s no trouble, ma’am. I’ll have one sent up immediately,” he said. “And your trunk will be here any minute.”
Then he showed me my bathroom, complete with a huge tub with gold-plated handles. He demonstrated how to press the bell whenever I needed assistance, then he left, clearly disappointed in the size of the tip I had given him. I put Liam down and just stood there in the middle of that luxury, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. If I had been visiting in other circumstances, I should have been thrilled to be surrounded by such opulence. But all I could think was, I have to get out of here and find Daniel.
No sooner had this thought crossed my mind than there was a tap on my door and I opened it to find Mr. Paxton standing there.
“I came to check that everything was all right,” he said.
“All right? Look at it!” I exclaimed. “It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”
“I hope our singers will agree,” he said. “Our divas are thoroughly spoiled and require the most absurd luxury. One brings her canary in a cage whenever she travels. Another has to have rosewater for her bath. If she doesn’t have it, she complains her throat closes up and she can’t sing.”
“Goodness.” I had to laugh. “Then I must be easy to please.”
“Look,” he said, suddenly serious again. “I know you’ll want to find your husband right away. I wondered if you’d like me to look after Liam while you go and make inquiries.”
“If you’re sure you’ve nothing else to do right now.”
“Nothing at all. As I say, after I’ve checked out all the rooms and rehearsal facilities then I’m free to explore the city until the company arrives. That task shouldn’t take me too long. So you see I have time and would be happy to watch the little guy while he takes a nap.”
“That would be wonderful.” I let out a sigh of relief. “He’s awfully heavy to carry around now. I wonder if the hotel has a baby buggy they can lend me?”
“I’m sure this hotel has everything you could possibly wish,” he said, laughing. “I’ll send down for some food and we can share a snack before you set out on your quest.”
“You really are very kind.” I blinked back tears.
“Nonsense. I’d want someone to do the same for my wife and child,” he said. “And you did keep me splendid company on a long train ride.”
I found postcards of the hotel among the stationery and wrote to Bridie and Sid and Gus, letting them know that we had arrived safely and I was about to go off to locate Daniel. A plate of cheeses and fruit, cold meats, and bread soon arrived as well as some soup for Liam. I handed the postcards to the boy who delivered the food. He assured me that they would go out with the next collection. The crib was wheeled in and I put my son down for a nap. He protested at first, but then fell asleep. I whispered another thank-you to Mr. Paxton and set off.
I hadn’t walked a few yards down the hall when I was conscious of being followed. I glanced back. A tall, skinny fellow wearing a derby hat was walking behind me. As I turned the corner toward the elevator he hurried to catch up.
“If I might have a few words, madam?”
“What about?”
He was holding a pencil and pad at the ready.
“You of course. Your journey across the country.”
“I’m sure there is nothing remarkable in either. Are you some kind of reporter?”
“I am, madam. Jeremiah Hicks of The San Francisco Examiner.”
“And do you make a practice of interviewing all the new arrivals to the city, Mr. Hicks?”
“Just the famous ones, madam,” he said. “I must say you are a lot slimmer and younger than your pictures. I had always thought that opera singers were—you know—broader?” He blushed at the word.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve made a mistake,” I said. “I am not an opera singer.”
His face fell. “You are not Mimi Adler?”
“Unfortunately no.”
“But I was told downstairs that Miss Adler would be occupying the room you just came out of.”
“She will, in a couple of days’ time. I have graciously been allowed to use her room until she arrives. The very kind man from the Metropolitan Opera arranged it for me after we arrived to find no rooms available in the city. Only please, let’s keep this to ourselves. I wouldn’t want him to have overstepped his authority and to get into trouble.”
He grinned, then looking like a naughty schoolboy said, “Don’t worry. I won’t spill the beans.”
I realized that I might have a valuable contact in Mr. Hicks. “So you interview famous people when they arrive in the city?”
He nodded. “My boss, Mr. Hearst, is very keen on getting the scoop, you see. I have to hang around the Palace and the St. Francis and be the first to get an exclusive interview for the newspaper. I get a bonus if the scoop is a good one.” His face fell. “I was hoping to bag Mimi Adler before she was expected to arrive. Wouldn’t that have been something?”
“I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
“And you’re not a famous person in your own right?”
“I’m afraid I’m not.” I paused. “I am an ordinary wife and mother from New York. But I wonder if you might have come across my husband? He came out here a couple of weeks ago. Daniel Sullivan is his name.”
Jeremiah Hicks frowned. “Sullivan? Is he famous?”
I was about to say that his name might be known in certain circles, but then I reasoned that he might not have wanted his presence broadcast. Before I could phrase the way I wanted to answer he frowned. “Wait. Sullivan? I did read that name recently. Where was it?” He paused, but then shook his head. “He’s an important kind of guy?”
“Not really. He’s a police captain in New York City. And he might not even be using his own name…”
“Why would that be? On the run?”
I smiled. “Nothing like that. An undercover assignment, I suspect. But I’m asking if you met him because he was photographed at the bar of this hotel, talking and laughing with a group of men.”
Hicks shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I don’t normally hang around watering holes like this. Too pricey for me.” He looked at me with interest. “So you’ve come out to surprise him, have you?”
“Something like that. Actually more than that. I have important news that I have to give him so I have to find him immediately.”
“Have you asked at the hotel desk here, and at the other hotels? He’d have had to stay somewhere unless he was invited to a private home.”
“He did mention a Mrs. Rodriguez in his letter,” I said.
“Bella?” He smiled. “If he knows Bella, then you’re all set, aren’t you? She’ll know where to find him. She knows everyone in the city, does our Bella. She likes to think of herself as the city’s hostess par excellence.”
“And where can I find her?”
“She has a big house—well, mansion really—up on California Street. That’s Nob Hill, where all the swells live—you know the Crockers, Mark Hopkins’s widow, and those other railroad barons. Anybody who is anybody lives on Nob Hill. And they’re about to open another fancy hotel up there too—the Fairmont, they are calling it. If you’d come a week or so later you could have stayed there.”
“How do I find this Nob Hill from here?” I asked.
“Easy. You take the cable car from Powell Street,” he said. “Just walk along Market until you come to it.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And if I wanted to visit the San Francisco police, where is their headquarters?”
“Justice building on Portsmouth Square. To get there it’s easier to go down Market until you find Kearny Street and then follow Kearny until you come to Clay. Then you can’t miss it. Fine new building on a fine new square. The city is very proud of it.”
“Thank you,” I sa
id.
The elevator arrived and we stepped inside. We rode down in silence. On the ground floor I was about to walk away when he called after me, “Mrs. Sullivan, be careful where you walk in a city like this. There are parts you wouldn’t want to go alone, without a man to escort you.”
“I’ve been warned about the waterfront,” I said.
“With good reason. And then there’s Chinatown. It’s only a block north of Portsmouth Square and I certainly wouldn’t advise a woman to wander through the backstreets there alone. The Chinese pretty much keep themselves to themselves, but you never know. There are rumors of white slaving…” He fished into his pocket. “Look, here’s my card. You can leave a message for me at the Examiner building just across the street if you need help.”
“You are very kind,” I said. “And if you could ask your colleagues if any of them has come across Captain Sullivan, I’d be most grateful.”
“If he says he’s with Bella, you don’t need to look any further, do you?” He looked puzzled. “She’ll have him fetched for you in a jiffy. Everyone around here dances to Bella’s tune.”
“So exactly who is this Bella Rodriguez?” I asked. “Another widow of a railroad baron?”
“Not of a railroad baron, but certainly a rich widow. What we understand is that her husband owned a big cattle ranch in New Mexico. I’m not sure where she came from originally, but her husband must have been Spanish with a name like Rodriguez. Of course that whole part of the United States originally belonged to Mexico, didn’t it? Anyway from what we heard he died and she sold up and came here. Must have been worth a fortune. She set herself up with a fine mansion and quickly became one of the city’s leading lights. She’s certainly generous and knows how to throw a good party. Your husband will be enjoying a fine lifestyle if he’s staying with her.”
“He didn’t say he was staying with her, just that he’d met her,” I said cautiously. “But you’re right. She would be the person to call upon.”
Mr. Hicks tipped his hat to me and went off. I was about to follow when it occurred to me to ask at the reception desk first. If Daniel had been seen in the bar, it was possible he had stayed here when he first arrived. I saw a distinguished-looking man in a frock coat standing at one of the mahogany desks and went up to him.