Miss Thorne Blossoms

by Jordan Bollinger

  He handed Victoria and Meg glasses, and then gave one to Neil and took the last one.

  Neil raised his glass, and said, "To the lovely Margaret Strong and Gus Gunderson, may they find all the happiness Rose and I intend to."

  He and Gus both took large swallows. Meg took an average swallow. But Victoria, who hated how brandy burned, took only the teeniest of sips, and grimaced.

  "So Meg..." Gus said, turning to look at his soon-to-be-bride, but he found her slumping down in her chair.

  And when he asked, "What's wrong?" She didn't answer. He jumped out of his chair, scooped Meg up and carried her through the open bedroom door, as he called out, "Victoria! Something's wrong with Meg."

  *****

  Victoria grabbed her medical bag and immediately followed. Then she asked, "Please leave us alone, Gus."

  She saw him join Neil at the table, where they anxiously continued to drink their brandy, while she returned to Meg.

  "What is wrong with you, Meg?" Victoria said in a sharp voice, however Margaret remained silent. And when she examined her friend more closely, she realized Meg wasn't merely unconscious, she'd been drugged. Her pulse was slow, but steady. And when the doctor lifted up an eye lid, she discovered the pinprick pupils that was the sign post to her friend having consumed some sort of opiate.

  Bolting from the room, she called out, "Neil! Gus! Don't drink the..." but, it was too late. Both the men were out cold and their eyes also showed signs of being dosed with opium. However, at least their pulse rates were a bit stronger. Without a doubt, the brandy was laced—most probably morphine.

  And then, everything fell into place.

  Brent Harding had provided the brandy—very near the end of the epidemic—to the man Gus had guarding his loom parts and spinning wheels. It would have been around the time the strangled girl's body must have been placed in their makeshift morgue.

  Brent Harding...the blood soaked paper with 'Br.' She now saw it didn't necessarily refer to Brumbell. It could also be the beginnings of Brent, as well.

  Brent Harding, who continually asked what she knew about the first dead girl; who had seemingly lazed around for nearly a year, in a huge, supposedly empty house, with only his enormous, slathering hound and Oriental manservant.

  For God's sake, she'd even heard his 'book shipment' clink and rattle several weeks ago, and ignored it.

  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

  And Frank was out of town.

  The first thing she needed was to devise a plan.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dr. Thorne caught Eva and Kit, just as they were leaving the hotel, and hissed, "Girls, follow me to Meg's, but don't look like you're hurrying."

  "What's going on?" Eva asked, as they scurried along the street.

  The more astute Kit asked, "What's wrong?"

  "Just get inside," Victoria told them, as she held the door open.

  "What's the matter with the men? Where's Miss Meg?" Kit queried.

  "Girls, please, I need you to listen to me carefully, all right?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "First, Meg and the men are drugged, but they'll be fine. Now, I need for you to get help me get the men into your room. Pull the trundle out, Eva, while Kit and I get Gus onto your bed."

  The three of them picked Gus up and awkwardly carried him to the bed. The doctor said, "All right, now help me with Neil." And, then they moved Neil to the trundle.

  As soon as the men were settled on the beds, she led the girls back to the table, sat down and began speaking in a slow, but extremely firm tone, "I think I know who's behind the brothel and where it is."

  "Well, let's go get the sheriff," Kit said.

  "We can't. He's out of town, and since none of the deputies know about anything that's been going on, I don't think we can ask them to help."

  "But, why?"

  "Because if we go to one of them and tell them this story about multiple dead girls, drugs, and a hidden brothel, we'll be lucky if we only get laughed at, and don't get locked up in an asylum. As much as I hate the idea, we're going to have to deal with this ourselves."

  "But, Dr. Thorne," Eva began, "I'm sure if I went out to Gus' Ma would believe me. And, I bet that she could round up some men."

  "Yes, I suppose you might be right. Just let me think for a minute," Victoria said. She sat at the table, scowling. "All right, Eva, you take the buggy and get Ma and some men. Can you harness the horse?"

  "No, ma'am."

  "I'll get Molly in harness. You still want Eva to go?"

  "Yes, Kit. I need you here—once Eva's on her way. I want you to make some strong coffee and try to get the men to wake up. But, I don't know how much of the drug was in the brandy, so don't get worried if you can't get through to them. Meg only took one swallow and is out cold. But, they aren't going to die. You understand me, don't you girls?"

  "Yes, ma'am," they answered in unison.

  "Now, while you're helping Eva with the buggy, I'm going to write out what I believe is going on. You are not to read it! Neither you nor Eva is to do anything other than get Ma and take care of these three. Are we clear on that?"

  Both girls nodded their heads in agreement, and muttered, "Yes, ma'am." But Victoria could tell they wanted to argue. So, she added, "I want you both to promise me that's all you'll do. Please, promise me."

  "All right."

  "Then go along!"

  Eva stopped in the doorway, and asked, "What are you going to do after you write this note for the men?"

  "I'm not sure yet."

  In a soft, quavering voice, Eva added, "Dr. Thorne, Mr. Gus gave Miss Meg a gun last year. It's in her nightstand drawer. And, I think it's loaded."

  "Thank you. That will be helpful. Now, please get going!"

  After the girls left, Victoria retrieved the revolver. She even remembered to check to make sure it was loaded and placed it on the table.

  Then she took some paper and a pencil from Meg's desk, sat down, and began writing her theories. She only hoped it made sense to whoever read it—because she was writing in short, incomplete sentences.

  She left it in an envelope, leaning against the sugar bowl, grabbed the gun from the table and started to bolt out the back door, when she stopped.

  She'd suddenly remembered that someone had suggested, somewhere along the line, how there was probably an older, more experienced woman involved, as well. So, it wouldn't be just Harding and Mr. Lee she'd be forced to deal with. There would almost certainly be a woman there. And then there was that horrible hellhound.

  But, at least, she could do something about it!

  She snatched the parcel of beef from the icebox and returned to the table with her medical bag. Then, she slowly and deliberately injected every drop of morphine and laudanum she had into it before she took it outside with her.

  Suddenly, her adrenaline level plummeted and she sat down in one of the rockers to think. She couldn't just run around willy-nilly. She needed a plan.

  As she was contemplating her options, she hear Eva drive the buggy past the workshop and Kit came running around the building.

  "Why can't you just wait until Eva gets back, ma'am?"

  "Kit, please, dear. Just go make the coffee and try and get the men awake. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but I have to do something. Those girls and Miss Murphy are in danger now! Although, you could find a cloak for me."

  "Yes, miss...but..."

  "Please, Kit. Go inside and do as I asked."

  "All right, miss."

  By the time Kit brought out a heavy woolen cloak, she'd placed the meat in a dark shadow, just outside the door. She stood up and allowed the girl to drape it around her shoulders, before she thrust the pistol into the front of the waistband of her skirt.

  Then she wrapped the cloak around her, sat down again, and formulated her plan.

  *****

  Colleen couldn't tell if it was day or night, let alone have any idea of the time. But she wasn't willing to wait anymore. S
he was just unlocking the door of her closet, when she heard a commotion.

  She wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad one. All she knew was someone was pounding on a door and screaming.

  Once she unlocked her closet door, Colleen opened it the teeniest crack, and did her best to see out. But she couldn't see much more than a long, windowless, and dimly lit hallway. She could hear the sound of doors opening and closing, heavy footsteps going down stairs, and muffled conversation.

  She returned to her closet, fumbled in her suitcase, and reclaimed the second tiny gun. But, this she kept in her right hand, as she once again opened the door, and peered out. Deeming the coast was clear—or as clear as she was likely to find it—she bolted from the closet, shutting the door silently behind her. Then she moved towards the darker end of the hall.

  There she found a heavy, elaborately carved door, which she peeked into. To her horror, she discovered Lynn, lying naked on the huge bed, whimpering. She slipped into the room, whispering, "Lynn, get up! Hurry and find something to put on, and then follow me. But be quiet!"

  The girl seemed to rally, slipped from the over-sized bed, and wrapped herself up in a silk brocade robe, obviously too big for her. Then she pulled it up and tied the sash, before she moved to where Colleen stood near the door and asked, "What are we going to do?"

  "I'm not sure, sweetheart. But, we are going to do our best to get out of here."

  "No! We can't!" she whispered.

  "Why?"

  "Because..." The girl swallowed a silent sob, before she managed to say, "Sir will beat us—all of us. Well, he'll have Mister do it. He hasn't beaten any of us since he hurt Lori so bad."

  Colleen squatted before the child, and asked, "Who is 'sir' and who is 'mister?'"

  "Sir owns us. Mister is his servant. He's the one who fixes all the bad tea and forces us to drink it."

  "Aside from these two men, is there anyone else here—other than Lisa, I mean?"

  "Yes, there's Miss. She's even meaner than Sir. And, she has a knife. I've seen it. It's got a long and thin blade that kind of springs out of its handle."

  "All right," Colleen said. "Can you think of anything else I should know about?"

  "Well, there's Sir's dog. He's the size of a pony, and he scares the life out of Kathy and me. I think he even scares Miss. And, there's probably a man or two...you know...waiting their turn..." she ended, as a single tear ran down her cheek.

  "Hush, Lynn. Please. We need to get out of here. Where do you think Kathy is?"

  "Down the other end of the corridor. That's where the...where the men...are..." Now the tears ran freely down her entire face.

  *****

  "Ma! Ma!" Eva shouted, as she pulled the buggy to a halt in front of the house and jumped out, still crying out, "Ma! Ma!"

  Someone was coming from the nearest bunk house, carrying a lantern, and called out, "What the blazes is going on?"

  Meanwhile, Eva's mother, also carrying a lamp, opened the front door of the house, and looked out. "Who is that? Eva...is that you? What's wrong? What's going on?"

  The man carrying the lantern came close enough to see and Eva recognized Josh. He was one of Gus' most trusted men. Once he was at the foot of the porch steps, Eva began telling her incredible tale—loud enough for only Josh and her mother to hear.

  After several minutes of low, hurried conversation, Ma said, "Josh, gather up every man on this place—now!"

  It took almost twenty minutes to send men to all the bunkhouses, roust the men out of bed, and gather the men together in front of the house. Once they were there, Josh took stock of the men. During this time, Eva did her best to explain as much as she could to her mother.

  After Josh had counted the men, he told her, "All right. Everyone is here except for Russ and Dave."

  Ma Swenson stood on the porch and scowled down at the men, and cried out, in a loud, clear voice, "Something has been going on in this town—something horrible. And, not only do I believe that Dave and Russ are participating in it, this very minute, but I am sure that someone else, standing here with us, knows what's going on, as well. More importantly, they know where it's going on. I've taken care of most of you for more years than I'd care to admit to. I've nursed you when you've been sick. I've mended your injuries. I've even cleaned you up when you couldn't do it for yourselves.

  "Now, I'm going to ask this just once... And, whoever knows what I want had better answer straight a ways. Because, whether you know it or not, you haven't just been visiting a bawdy house. You've been supporting a den of vipers.

  "Who do you think beat that poor child to death last summer? You couldn't possibly believe she wasn't a victim of this place—and therefore a victim of your vice. So, if you know this place, you'd better come forward right this minute. Because, if you don't and are later found to be involved, I will personally geld you before you're turned over to the sheriff! Now, who's going to step forward?"

  Murmurs rippled through the gathering of hands, but only one remained quiet, and seemed to be slipping back into the crowd. But Ma wasn't blind or stupid. She gave Josh a nod and smiled as she saw him grab Henry's shoulder in a vise-like hold.

  The other hands moved away from him, as if he could infect them if they got too close.

  "Well..." Josh growled at him.

  "All right. I know. But, I didn't have anything to do with anyone's death. I swear!"

  "Who runs it? And where is it?" Ma asked. "Remember, we're only going to ask you once!"

  "Harding runs it. But, he has that chink, and he has a vicious beast of a dog. And then there's Belle. She kind of runs the girls..."

  "Where is it, and, how do you get admittance to this house of horrors?" Ma asked.

  "It's in Harding's building. There's a stairway in the back, off the alley that leads up to a gallery. There's a door at the end of it. You knock on that, and the chink unlocks the door."

  "And, does he open it to just anyone?" Josh asked. "Or, do you have to have been preapproved, so to speak?"

  "Brumbell is the one who gets you in. He gives Harding names, and then the chink asks your name. And you have to be on his list to get in."

  Ma hadn't run Gus' place for years without knowing how to make plans on the fly, and how to delegate.

  "Dean, you and Hank go gather up half a dozen shotguns or rifles. And, don't forget ammunition. Joey, hog tie this piece of offal up—tightly—and toss him in the back of the buggy. Then drive Eva back to town. Tim, grab a couple of hatchets and pickaxes. And Jessie, get half a dozen horses saddled. Fast!"

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  "Mr. Harding! Mr. Harding!" Victoria yelled as she pounded on the front door of his 'newspaper' office. "Help! Please! I need help! Mr. Harding!"

  After several minutes of pounding and yelling, she saw a man with a lantern coming down the stairs, moving slowly through the building.

  Once he reached the entrance, it took him some time to unlock multiple locks. And, when he opened the door, his brute of a dog was beside him.

  "What the blazes is going on?" he asked, as he peered out into the darkness. "Dr. Thorne? Is that you?"

  "Yes. Please, I need your help. Something's wrong at Meg's. We had dinner. Neil and Gus, and Meg and me; and then, suddenly, they all became ill."

  "And," he asked with a note sarcasm, "what do you think I can do about it? You're the doctor, after all."

  "I don't know...I mean...you're a man...you're supposed to be able to think quickly," she blurted out, inwardly wincing at the betrayal of her sex. "Aren't we women supposed to be able to rely on you men in time of crisis?"

  However, this seemed to be just the thing to stroke his ego and convince him to say, "All right, let's go see what's happened."

  Victoria was very pleased he didn't tell Bear to stay. Once they reached Meg's porch, she said, "It's crowded inside, so could you have your dog remain out here? Please."

  "All right. Bear, stay!"

  As she held the door open for Harding t
o pass through, she watched Bear find the doctored beef and smiled to herself. With any luck, the dog would be knocked out in a matter of minutes, if he wasn't dead, since she wasn't at all sure how much morphine a beast his size could actually digest and survive—or how much drugs she'd actually injected in the meat.

  "Where are they?" Harding snapped. Apparently, he expected to find them collapsed around the table.

  "Oh, with Kit's help, I managed to get them into beds. It's just I've never seen anything like this. I mean, we all ate the exact same things, and, yet I'm fine."

  Kit came out of Meg's room, and said, "Oh, miss, I was just wiping Miss Meg's face with a cool cloth. I made the coffee you wanted. But, I don't know who's going to drink it."

  "Thank you, Kit. Why don't you go to the surgery and gather those things I asked for?"

  Kit gave her a rather strange look, but merely responded, "Yes, ma'am. All right, I'll go at once."

  As soon as the young woman left, Victoria pointed to the other bedroom and said, "We’ve got the men in there."

  Harding pointed to the brandy bottle, shook his head and asked, "Are you sure they just didn't drink themselves under the table?"

  Victoria didn't bother to answer.

  *****

  Colleen peeped out into the hallway, but jerked back as a man came towards them carrying a lantern. However, he opened a door on the other side of the hall and descended some stairs.

  "Come on," she whispered to Lynn. "We're just going to go right past the door that man just went through. We're heading towards the door to the outside. Understand?"

  "All right, miss. But if Mister or Miss sees us, it's going to get bad."

  Colleen pulled the derringer from her pocket, and said, "I can make things get bad, too." Then she got the other little gun from her petticoat's secret pocket and handed it to the girl. "Just point and shoot. But, you only have two shots, so try to make the best of them. Now, let's go."

  Putting an arm around the child, Colleen moved down the corridor, making her way from the bedroom towards the exit, guiding the girl along with her. They managed to creep past the door to the kitchen, and the Chinese man sitting at the table, with head nodding, as if he was falling asleep.