“But eventually, yes, according to Samuel, the serving girl was found,” Mrs. Smith said. “He wrote me all about it but said she was no help in locating my granddaughter.”
“Why not?” Madeline said. “If she was in the boat with her, then she should have seen what happened.”
“She saw,” Madame said, “but as a woman and a serving girl, her protests were ignored when she was separated from the child.”
“And this serving girl? Do you know her name?”
“I do not,” Mrs. Smith said. “Nor did Samuel recall it in the letters he sent. I can provide them if you need them, but I will have to have them sent from New Orleans.”
“Yes, if you would, please,” Madeline said. “I would very much like to find her.”
“I don’t know that finding her is possible,” Madame said. “She is referred to only as the serving girl in my son’s letter. There is no other identifying information.”
“But where could the child have gone, with or without this girl? Where did they finally land, is the question,” Jonah said.
The pastor launched into a long diatribe regarding the wind and waves as he recalled them on that night. Then he described the size of the vessel and the difficulty steering due to wind and weather. Finally he admitted he had no idea where the boat went.
“But you know it went somewhere,” Madeline said. “Because you have a serving girl testifying to reaching land.”
“To reaching Galveston,” Madame corrected.
“Yes,” Madeline said. “Galveston.”
“So we can agree that the trail of the child goes cold right here in Galveston,” Jonah said, and all in the room nodded in agreement. “Reverend Wyatt,” Jonah continued, growing tired with waiting for the chatty preacher to get back to the question he most wanted answered, “you still haven’t told us why you felt you had to shoot at Miss Latour.”
Before he died, I made Mr. Samuel a promise. He was a private man, and for reasons I didn’t ask, if you know what I mean. He didn’t want nobody coming around and asking questions.”
“Yes, that sounds like my Samuel,” the older woman said. “I always appreciated his letters, but he never told me how ill he was. All those times he kept me from traveling to Indianola by telling me he would visit me soon. I only wish I hadn’t taken him at his word.”
“Like as not he did have plans to visit you, ma’am, but with Mr. Samuel, you just never knew.” Reverend Wyatt glanced around the room and then shrugged. “Anyhow, as I told Miss Latour when the two of you visited the parsonage, I was pledged to keep his secrets, and that goes well before I changed my ways and became a preacher.”
Jonah’s temper spiked as he thought of how close Madeline had come to being shot by this man, all in the name of protecting a dead friend. Ridiculous.
“And it didn’t matter who was asking the questions,” Jonah snapped.
“Detective Cahill,” Mrs. Smith said firmly, “please let the reverend tell his story in his own way.”
“Yes, of course,” he said evenly. “Do continue, Reverend Wyatt.”
Reverend Wyatt paused to glance over at Madeline and then back at Mrs. Smith. “So when I heard somebody from the Pinkertons had been asking about Mr. Samuel and his lady wife, well, I got concerned. It’s been more than twenty years since he joined Mrs. Eliza in glory, so what did a Pinkerton man want with coming around like that?”
“I wanted to get questions answered for my employer, Mrs. Smith,” he said evenly. “And Miss Latour was my assistant in this endeavor.”
“Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “Wasn’t you who came asking first, Detective Cahill. It was another Pinkerton man, or leastwise he said he was. So when I got word from a fellow I know who works down at the wharf that another Pinkerton man was on the manifest for the Haven along with a young lady, I figured I needed to take action.”
“Who was this man?” Jonah demanded; then he had a thought. “Did he call himself Detective Donovan?”
“No, that name isn’t familiar. He was a dark-haired man, average build. Just a fellow who wouldn’t stand out on the street.”
“Detective Donovan has red hair,” Madeline said to him, “so it couldn’t have been him.”
“No indeed, it could not have been a red-haired man, of this I am certain, although that name does sound vaguely familiar. I will have to check the card he gave me when I get a chance, if I still have it.”
“Yes, please do that,” Jonah said. “I would be very interested in finding out if another Pinkerton has been assigned to a similar matter.”
The reverend once again ducked his head before lifting it up again to look over at Madeline. “Again, I do own up to shooting at you, Miss Latour, although owing to the fact I am a pretty decent shot, I want you to be sure to understand that I missed on purpose. Even as I say it, I realize that is nothing I ever thought I’d say as a pastor.”
“I think I understand,” Madeline said. “I can be quite fierce when it comes to defending my family as well.”
The reverend turned to Jonah. “And that spent shell casing I put in your food hamper was to be another warning. I figured if you thought I’d followed you or at least knew how to get close to you, then you’d back off and stop asking about Mr. Samuel.”
“Why put all the food in the other hamper?” Madeline asked.
“So I wouldn’t miss the message,” Jonah responded, keeping his gaze directed toward the reverend.
“Yes, that was the idea,” he admitted. “I almost didn’t get to hand it off to my contact at the wharf that day because Miss Latour caught me walking back from the boardinghouse and waylaid me into talking to her.” He shrugged. “Anyhow, that’s what happened and part of why I am here in Galveston. I do appreciate your understanding on the matter.”
Understanding wasn’t exactly how Jonah felt at the moment, but he was relieved that the question regarding the shooting had been answered. Knowing there wasn’t someone following the reporter and looking to strike again was a huge relief.
However, he did wonder who was impersonating a Pinkerton agent. Or perhaps there truly was a Pinkerton sent to investigate, although Jonah seriously doubted that. If another agent had intelligence pertaining to this case, the captain would have already put them in touch.
No, he decided. This was a likely case of someone trying to convince this man he was a legitimate Pinkerton detective.
“Reverend, one more question if you don’t mind.” At the preacher’s nod, Jonah continued. “What kind of questions was that other Pinkerton man asking?”
“Best I can recollect he was asking pretty much the same questions Miss Latour was. Wanting to know about treasure and such.”
Madeline’s cheeks colored as Mrs. Smith offered a surprised expression. Neither spoke, so Jonah continued. “Was he as relentless as Madeline?”
Chuckling, Reverend Wyatt shook his head. “I believe he tried, but no sir, Miss Latour wins on that count.” He turned his attention to Madeline. “You really ought to consider becoming a Pinkerton detective. You almost had me talking back there in the parsonage.”
“It’s never too late to talk, Reverend Wyatt,” she said in a light-hearted tone that made everyone in the room except Jonah believe she was teasing.
“Well,” Mrs. Smith said before the preacher could respond. “This has been an interesting visit, Reverend Wyatt. I am most grateful to you for coming to Galveston and speaking with us.”
“There’s more, and to this I first owe a debt of apology to Mrs. Smith and to your late husband for not being forthcoming with this information. But you see, I was bound by my promise to your son not to tell you that, well…” He shrugged. “You see, though Mr. Samuel, he did miss his lady wife something terrible, he was swayed into another love match between the second and the final fever that took him.”
“Samuel found love again?” Mrs. Smith said softly, her voice tender. “That’s wonderful. Why would you possibly think I wouldn’t want to know this?”
Reverend Wyatt shook his head. “There’s more to it than that. You see, well, he took Mrs. Francine to wife—she’s the widow woman who was running the boardinghouse—and they, well, there was another girl born to Mr. Samuel, though she came into the world a few months after he passed on.”
“Annabelle?” Jonah asked.
“Yes, she’d be the one,” he said as he glanced over at Jonah and nodded. “Looks more like her mama but she’s got Mr. Samuel’s eyes too. She’s been striving to stay above water with that boardinghouse, but it has been a rough go with her man shipping out like he does.”
“I have two granddaughters?” Mrs. Smith said, a smile lighting her face.
“And a great-grandson,” Reverend Wyatt said. “That’s truly the purpose of this visit. You see, I have felt terrible awful about taking those shots at you, Miss Latour, and that had me praying hard on what the Lord would have me do about it. He told me I ought to go make it right and tell the whole story, which I have now done, and to ask for forgiveness.”
“Well, yes, of course,” Mrs. Smith said. “Of course they understand and forgive, don’t you, Detective and Miss Latour?”
“Of course,” Madeline said. Jonah grudgingly agreed, knowing he’d be sorely tempted to behave the same way under the same set of circumstances.
“So where is my granddaughter and great-grandson?” Mrs. Smith demanded. “I must be taken to them.” She rang for Gretchen, who somehow managed to come immediately. “Prepare my things and have passage booked for Indianola. The reverend and I will be traveling as soon as possible.”
“Now hold on a minute, ma’am,” he said. “That won’t be necessary. You see, they’re here in Galveston right now. Annabelle, she’s anxious to meet her gran, and little Jordy, well, he’s just the image of your Samuel.”
Mrs. Smith turned her focus to Jonah, her eyes misty. “Detective Cahill, did you hear? I have two granddaughters and a great-grandson.” She rose. “Reverend Wyatt, I want to see them right now.”
He chuckled. “I thought you might say that. I can fetch us a buggy in no time and have you over to the place where Annabelle has taken rooms. It ain’t far, but it certainly ain’t posh like this.”
Jonah spied the maid listening from the hallway just a few feet away from where Madeline was sitting. While the reporter was still taking notes, the maid seemed to be trying to read over Madeline’s shoulder.
Mrs. Smith grinned. “I have an entire floor sitting empty just for them right here.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jonah saw the maid frown.
“I’m sure that would cause no end of trouble for your staff,” the reverend protested.
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Smith said. “My staff will provide any assistance my granddaughter needs to settle in with her son. And I insist you stay with us as well, Reverend.”
The maid’s expression of dismay, which included a roll of her eyes and something that looked like a swoon, almost caused Jonah to laugh out loud. Rather, he allowed her to see he had been watching her. To his surprise, the maid ignored him to continue her vigil at the door, although now wearing a decidedly unhappy expression.
“There’s no need to fetch a buggy, Reverend Wyatt,” Jonah said. “I would be glad to offer up mine for your use.”
He looked surprised. “You don’t mind?”
Jonah grinned. “Anything that gets Mrs. Smith’s granddaughter and her great-grandson here as soon as possible is my pleasure.”
The maid glowered in his direction and then stormed off. Madeline gave Jonah a curious look, no doubt wondering why he was chuckling under his breath.
Later, after Madame and Reverend Wyatt had left in the buggy, Madeline sat on the porch swing beside Jonah while he read through the Daily News article. “What exactly do you find so amusing?” she asked after he’d laughed yet again.
“All of it.” Jonah dropped the paper on the table in front of him. “Come on, Madeline. The whole thing is ridiculous. No one will believe any of it.”
“Except for the fact that you did kiss me in front of Mrs. Brown and then we danced all night.”
“Well, true,” he said.
“And we were supposed to be pretending to be smitten,” she reminded him.
He grinned. “It worked.”
Madeline shook her head. “You’re not helping.”
Jonah swiveled to face her. “Then let’s talk about our investigation. Do you believe Wyatt’s explanation for shooting at you?”
“I do, actually,” she said. “And not just because he’s a preacher. I think he’s telling the truth.”
“I have my reservations,” Jonah said. “But yes, I agree. Unless he does something to change my mind, I believe he did think he was doing what he needed to do. The fact he came here of his own accord to make things right speaks volumes for me.”
Madeline recalled the preacher’s expressions as he told his tale and thought of the almost reverent way he spoke about Samuel. “I agree. I believe the guilt weighed on him until he was forced to confess.”
“We could have pressed charges,” Jonah offered.
“What would be the point?” Madeline shrugged. “Besides, once he told Madame that she had another granddaughter, that was the end of any other conversation.”
“I have my doubts about that,” Jonah said. “What proof is he offering other than his word? I know this isn’t part of the investigation, but I have come to like that old lady and I don’t want anyone to take advantage of her.”
“I agree,” Madeline said. “But I don’t know, Jonah. What harm is it for her to believe she actually has a living granddaughter?”
“There could be plenty of harm,” he said. “She’s an old lady.”
“All the more reason for her to have the distraction of new family.
Considering we have found nothing to support the theory that Eliza and Samuel’s daughter survived,” she said.
An idea occurred. Madeline jumped off the swing and headed toward the door. “Wait right there.”
Jonah rose. “Where are you going?”
“Just wait right there,” she said as she stepped inside. Madeline retrieved her notebook and said, “All right, let’s walk, shall we?”
“We could take the trolley wherever you’re wanting to go, you know.”
“Yes, but it is a glorious day and I feel like walking.”
“Then walking it is.” Jonah fell into step beside her and then hurried ahead to open the gate. “Right or left?”
“You tell me,” she said. “I want to go back to the beach. You and your sister were anxious to leave this morning, and I would very much like to go back and stay a little longer.”
“Then right,” he said as they walked down Broadway Avenue to the end of the block and then turned right to go east on Twenty-Third Street.
The road here formed a straight line to the beach. With the wind in their faces and the sun shining overhead, Madeline retrieved her notebook from her pocket. “Let’s talk about Reverend Wyatt’s story about Samuel and Eliza.”
“All right,” Jonah said. “Mrs. Smith didn’t disagree with any of it, so I think we can take some things as facts.”
“Samuel was her son and he was married to Eliza,” Madeline offered as she pressed an errant strand of hair away from her face. “And Eliza did not survive childbirth.”
“But where is that child?” Jonah shook his head. “The only clue is that the serving girl was found and interviewed but could offer nothing of value on what happened.”
Madeline slid him a sideways look. “I don’t understand that, Jonah. How do you not know what happened to the baby you’ve been entrusted to watch over? And how do they not know who the man was who rowed that boat in the storm? It makes no sense.”
“It does if there is a reason someone doesn’t want that child found. That would either be the serving girl or the rower. I can’t figure why either would not want to deliver that baby to Mrs. Smith.”
“Revenge?” Madeli
ne said as they stopped to allow a wagon to pass at the intersection before they continued walking.
“Maybe,” he said. “But for what?”
Madeline searched her mind, sorting through a few possibilities. “If John Smith is who I think he is, then maybe it’s not revenge but rather a kidnapping that we’re looking at.”
“Go on,” Jonah said.
“All right, I know we don’t have any proof of who Madame’s husband actually is. And maybe I am wrong, but you know I think he was actually Lafitte.”
“I think it’s possible,” he said, “although I’m reserving judgment until the facts support this.”
“Which is why I am looking for the facts,” she reminded him. “But just for the sake of argument, let’s say that is who he is. Think of the potential of getting Jean Lafitte to tell you what he knows.”
“As in where he buried all that treasure over the years.”
“Exactly,” she said. “But the theory fails when you realize that the little girl was never returned to her grandparents. Wouldn’t a kidnapper or kidnappers want to get rid of the child once they got what they wanted?”
“Let’s go back to the serving girl.” His eyes narrowed. “What if the ransom is somehow paid but the child isn’t returned because this serving girl has decided to keep her? I mean, don’t women do that?”
“Decide to keep children who don’t belong to them? I wouldn’t know, Jonah.”
“All right. I withdraw the question,” he said. “But let’s think about this a little more. The way I see it, the serving girl is the key. She’s the one living person who was with the baby from her birth all the way to whoever took the girl away from her.”
Madeline nodded. Up ahead the beach and the greenish-brown water of the Gulf of Mexico came into view. She picked up her pace.
“In a hurry, are you?” Jonah said as he caught up to her.
“Yes, I am as a matter of fact,” Madeline said. “Just look at that water. And that beach. Isn’t it glorious?”
“It’s, well… it’s a beach,” he said with a shrug.
My Heart Belongs in Galveston, Texas Page 20