City of Lies

by Victoria Thompson

  “Refuse?”

  “Yes, refuse to be pardoned and stay in jail.”

  Mrs. Bates considered this. “I don’t know. They always try to make us pay our fine so we don’t have to go to jail at all, but we refuse because that would be an admission of guilt, and we haven’t done anything illegal.”

  “You sound like you want to stay in jail, Miss Miles,” Anna said.

  “Only if it serves the cause,” Elizabeth said, pleased that she’d come up with such a pious-sounding lie.

  Anna’s stomach growled, and she pressed a hand to it. “I wonder when they’ll give us supper.”

  One glance at Mrs. Herndon’s evil smirk made Elizabeth think they’d starve before she took pity on them.

  Gradually, the other women followed Elizabeth’s example and sat or lay down on the floor, some using their coats as makeshift bedding as the room warmed from the massing of over forty people. Quiet conversations died away as fatigue claimed them. Would the matron really keep them sitting here all night? And if she did, what did Elizabeth care? At least she was safe.

  After what seemed hours, Elizabeth felt as much as heard the disturbance outside. Someone was coming.

  “Get up. Put your coats on,” she said to her companions.

  Anna had been dozing again. “What?”

  “Get up! Someone’s coming.”

  Then the others heard it, too, and began to stir. Before they could shake off their lethargy, however, the door burst open and an ugly old man strode in like he was the king of England. From the looks of him, he ate little babies for breakfast, so a few dozen suffragettes were no more than a nuisance.

  One cruel man was a bother, but behind him, she saw a crowd of men straining to get at them, and for the second time that day, Elizabeth knew real fear.

  Mrs. Lewis stood up. “Mr. Whittaker, we demand to be treated as political prisoners.”

  “Shut up! I have men here to handle you. Seize her!”

  Like somebody had pulled a cork from a bottle, the mob outside surged through the open door. They wore no uniforms and carried no weapons, but they didn’t need any to overpower the weary women.

  “They’ve taken Mrs. Lewis!” someone screamed.

  A brute who looked like an ape grabbed Anna’s arm. “Come with me, sweetheart. We’ll have a good time.” Anna screamed and struggled, but another man took her other arm and they lifted her off her feet and whisked her away.

  “You damn suffrager!” a mug said, clapping a beefy hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “My mother ain’t no suffrager!”

  Elizabeth thought of a few choice things she could say about his mother, but she clamped her mouth shut and forced herself not to struggle. It didn’t matter. He and his buddy still nearly tore her arms from their sockets as they pulled her outside and across the yard. Biting back her cry of pain, she concentrated on keeping her feet. No sense giving them an excuse to drag her. All around her, women screamed and struggled and men shouted obscenities, but she saw only shadows in the pitch-dark yard. She tried to run to keep up with her captors, but her skirts tangled and tripped her, and she stumbled at last, so they dragged her the rest of the way.

  For a moment she feared they were being abducted, but then she realized they were only going to the building where she’d seen the lights illuminating the American flag.

  The front door opened into a long corridor lined with stone cells. The goons were throwing the women into the cells, three and four at a time. A man in uniform kept poking women with a long stick as the men shoved the prisoners in.

  Two men pushed Mrs. Bates into a cell so hard that she smacked against the rear wall and slumped down in a heap. Furious, Elizabeth wrenched one arm free and threw herself into the same cell before her captors could make another choice for her. Before she could see if Mrs. Bates was all right, someone outside her cell screamed in agony.

  The plug-uglies had Anna’s arms twisted above her head, and they slammed her slender body over the arm of an iron bench, then dropped her onto the cement floor, where she lay unmoving.

  “Anna!” Mrs. Bates cried. “Help her!”

  Elizabeth scrambled to her feet and scurried out into the melee, dodging the other women and their captors. Anna’s eyes were wide with terror on her chalk white face, but she hadn’t moved a muscle. Just as Elizabeth reached her, she suddenly drew a gasping breath, and Elizabeth realized with relief that she’d just had the wind knocked out of her.

  Grabbing Anna’s arm, she dragged her toward her cell. Mrs. Bates hurried to help, and they got her inside. Mrs. Bates cradled her gently. “Anna, are you hurt? What did they do to you?”

  She gasped a few more times. “I couldn’t breathe!”

  “They knocked the wind out of her,” Elizabeth said. “It scares you to death, but no harm done.”

  Outside, the screams had died down as the last of the women were run past and deposited into cells, but no sooner had they finished than the women began calling out the names of their friends, checking to make sure everyone was safe.

  “Mrs. Lewis!”

  “Mrs. Nolan!”

  “I’m here!”

  “Where’s Mrs. Lewis?”

  Across the way, two women were lifting a third onto the single cot. She appeared to be unconscious, and the other two were crying over her.

  “She’s here,” one of them called, “but I think they’ve killed her.”

  “Quiet!” a man shouted. The ugly old man was back. What was his name? Whittaker. He looked like he might have apoplexy. “Be quiet, all of you!”

  “Is Mrs. Lewis truly dead?” This from the red-haired woman who had spoken up for them at the courthouse.

  “Shut up!” Whittaker screamed. “Guards, handcuff her!”

  To Elizabeth’s horror, two of the big apes slapped manacles on the woman’s wrists and chained her to the bars with her arms over her head.

  Undaunted, she cried, “Mrs. Lewis!”

  “She’s alive,” someone called. “She was only stunned!”

  “Quiet, all of you, or I’ll put you in a straitjacket with a buckle gag!” Whittaker cried.

  Elizabeth didn’t know what a buckle gag was, but the threat of it frightened the women to silence.

  “Let’s put her on the bed,” Mrs. Bates whispered, and Elizabeth helped her lift Anna onto the narrow iron cot, the only furniture in the cell except for a toilet.

  Outside, Whittaker was giving orders, and in a few minutes, the guards came back and started throwing ratty mattress pads and filthy blankets into the cells. Theirs landed with a cloud of dust, and the guards slammed the iron barred door shut on them. All down the corridor, doors clanged with a sound like the end of hope.

  Elizabeth went to the barred door and looked out. As the guards withdrew, having finished their task, other women also came to the bars. In the cell opposite, the old lady who had been so brave at the courthouse tended to Mrs. Lewis as she recovered from her brush with death. Down a ways, the red-haired woman still hung from the bars, her arms stretched agonizingly above her head and the handcuffs digging into her wrists. A buzz of whispered outrage rose like a cloud of flies at the sight of her, and over and over they said her name in awe: Lucy Burns.

  Elizabeth wanted to despise her. What kind of fool would put herself in a position like that? But then she saw the woman’s face. Surely, she was in agony, but her expression was triumphant as she met the eye of every woman straining for a glimpse of her. Her red hair glittered like a flame in the light from the corridor, and her eyes glowed with an inner fire.

  In another cell, a woman reached up and grabbed a bar with both her hands and stood there, mirroring Lucy Burns’s position. She stood there half the night, even after the others had bedded themselves down, until a guard finally came and released Miss Burns.

  What on earth was wrong with these women?

>   CHAPTER THREE

  Sometimes Gideon was afraid he would die in his office. Could a person really die of boredom? If so, today was certainly the day.

  Even his law clerk appeared to be in danger of nodding off, lulled by the sonorous drone of Mr. Ernest Pike’s reedy voice. How long had they been listening to Pike’s tedious account of his life, a life that had culminated in his phenomenal success in the production of packing crates?

  An eternity, at least.

  “So you can understand, Mr. Bates, how important it is to make sure my estate is safeguarded for my daughter, Eugenia,” Pike said. “She is my only heir.”

  At last! The man had finally made his wishes known. Gideon straightened up in his chair and smiled across his desk at Mr. Ernest Pike. “We can certainly make sure of that, Mr. Pike. How old is your daughter, may I ask?”

  His clerk perked up, too, finally sensing something he could make notes about.

  “She’ll be twenty-two next Tuesday. She’s a lovely girl, and so accomplished. She plays the piano and sings. Everyone remarks on how musical she is.”

  “You must be very proud.” Gideon understood now. His yawn evaporated. Eugenia Pike was of marriageable age. Pike would want to protect her from fortune hunters and expected the law firm of Devoss and Van Aken to be the guiding force in protecting the family estate. Gideon was on board to make sure these estates lasted for generations. This wasn’t a kindness. The law firm earned substantial fees for doing the work, so it was in their best interest to make the money last forever. “Your daughter must have many suitors.”

  Pike blinked in surprise and hesitated just a moment too long. “Yes, of course she does, but she’s very particular, you see. That’s why she hasn’t married yet.”

  Gideon took a hard look at Ernest Pike. If Eugenia Pike resembled her father, she might not have any suitors at all. But Gideon could assist with that as well. A large dowry could increase a young woman’s appeal exponentially. “You’ll want to make sure she’s comfortable when she does choose a husband, I assume.”

  “Oh yes, and I’m in a position to make sure she is.”

  “But you’ll want to protect her from someone who might squander her dowry and make continued demands on your generosity,” Gideon said.

  Mr. Pike gave him a grateful smile. “Yes, exactly, Mr. Bates. You understand me completely.”

  “We can accomplish all that with a simple trust.” Gideon explained how it would work, but he had the distinct impression that Pike didn’t really care, even though he was nodding enthusiastically. “We can draw up the paperwork for you to examine before you decide, but I think you and your daughter and her future husband will all be very satisfied.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bates. I can see I was advised correctly by those who assured me you were the perfect attorney to consult.”

  Gideon knew he hadn’t done anything particularly impressive, but he accepted the compliment graciously. “I’m happy to be of assistance.”

  “I’d like to express my appreciation in a more tangible way, if I may, Mr. Bates. Perhaps you could join me and my family for dinner some evening. Eugenia could perform. I know you’d enjoy it.”

  This time Gideon straightened cautiously. So that’s why Pike had asked to see Gideon specifically. Pike had done his homework, ferreting him out as the scion of one of the oldest families in the city, one of the families whose fortunes had faded through the generations until this scion was forced to earn his own way. And to close the deal, Pike had made it clear exactly how comfortable he intended to make his only child and the lucky fellow who married her.

  Gideon was not going to be that fellow, but he also wasn’t going to lose a client. “I appreciate your kind invitation, but I try to make it a policy never to mix business with pleasure, Mr. Pike. Perhaps when we have concluded with our business, however . . .”

  “Of course, of course,” Mr. Pike agreed happily.

  Maybe the fair Eugenia would meet another eligible, if needy, young man before then. If not, Gideon was more than happy to make her acquainted with several of his friends who were actively seeking a wealthy bride to settle their debts and provide a nice income for them for the rest of their lives.

  All three of the men looked up in surprise when someone tapped on the office door and opened it without even waiting for permission. No one at Devoss and Van Aken ever interrupted a client meeting unless the building was on fire.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Bates, but you are needed urgently,” one of the other clerks said, obviously terrified. Maybe the building really was on fire.

  Before Gideon could even think how to take his leave from Mr. Pike, David Vanderslice pushed past the clerk and practically exploded into the room. “Gideon, Anna has been arrested!”

  Not a fire, but certainly cause for alarm, at least for David. Gideon rose with as much dignity as he could muster. “Would you excuse me for a moment, Mr. Pike? Smith here will take down some information that will help us draw up the paperwork.” Gideon cast his clerk a pleading look, which he returned with an understanding nod. “David, let’s step into the conference room.”

  He took David’s arm in a death grip and steered him, unresisting, out of the office and down the hallway. He glanced up at his friend, furious at him for behaving so hysterically, but when he saw how distraught David was, he didn’t have the heart to chasten him. Instead he pushed him toward the open doorway to the conference room and followed him inside.

  When he’d closed the door behind them, David repeated his lament. “Anna’s been arrested!”

  “Of course she has. We knew that yesterday.”

  “No, you don’t understand. She’s been arrested again, and this time she’s been sent to jail for three months!”

  “Where did you hear this?”

  “I got a telephone call this morning from someone at the Woman’s Party headquarters in Washington. They said forty-one of the demonstrators had been arrested yesterday, and that the judge sentenced them to three months in the district jail.”

  This was a much longer sentence than the women had ever received before, but still not cause for alarm. “I assume my mother was among them.”

  “They haven’t telephoned you?”

  “No, but perhaps they tried to reach me at home. I don’t understand. I thought the demonstrators had been released yesterday. That’s what the newspapers said.”

  “They were released, but they went right back to the White House, and the police arrested them again. At least that’s what they told me on the telephone.” David was a tall man, but he suddenly seemed to shrink, as if all the air had gone out of him.

  “Sit down and we’ll sort this out.”

  “Poor Anna. The thought of her locked up in some awful jail . . .” He rubbed a hand over his face.

  Gideon took David’s arm and forced him toward the closest chair. “Sit.”

  He sank into it wearily. He looked like he’d been running his fingers through his fair hair. Or maybe he just hadn’t combed it yet this morning. “I didn’t want her to go. I knew something like this would happen.”

  “Of course something like this would happen,” Gideon said. “The women get arrested regularly, and just as regularly, they get released.”

  “They didn’t release that woman, what’s her name? The one who’s on the hunger strike.”

  “Miss Paul. But she’s one of the leaders. They won’t keep Anna.”

  “How do you know? They’ve never sentenced any of them to such a long term before.” David looked up at him, despair clouding his pale blue eyes. He was a complete mess. He hadn’t even shaved yet. “We have to get her out, Gideon. If anything happens to her, it will kill Mother.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to her. My mother is with her, and she’ll look after her. They’ll probably be released today in any case. I’ll telephone some attorneys I know down there
and find out what’s going on.”

  “Would you? I’d be very grateful.”

  They both started when someone knocked on the door. The clerk who had escorted David stuck his head in. “Mr. Bates, there is a telephone call for you from Washington City. They said it’s very important.”

  “That’s probably headquarters calling to tell you about the arrests,” David said.

  Gideon followed the clerk out to the front office, picked up the candlestick telephone from the desk and held the earpiece to his ear. “Hello? This is Gideon Bates.”

  The operator connected him to a member of the Woman’s Party, who told him what he already knew.

  “They were sentenced to three months in the district jail, but they aren’t there,” she concluded.

  “Then they’ve already been released.”

  “No, they haven’t been released. They’ve been taken somewhere else, but we don’t know where yet.”

  “Someplace else? You mean they’re still in custody?”

  “As far as we know. We have our attorney working to locate them.”

  Dear Lord, this was ridiculous. Couldn’t anyone down there do anything right? “You know that I’m an attorney.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Tell whoever is in charge now that I will be taking the first train to Washington. You may expect me at headquarters later today.”

  Gideon took a moment to get control of himself before he went back to David.

  David jumped to his feet the instant Gideon stepped into the conference room.

  “They told me the same thing they told you, that the women were sentenced to three months in jail. Did they tell you where they’re being held?”

  David frowned in confusion. “I told you, the district jail.”

  “Well, they aren’t there, and the women at headquarters don’t know where they are.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I have no idea, but it can’t be good. I’m going straight to Washington to see if I can get this straightened out. I’ll telephone you the moment I know anything.”