Death Rides the Zephyr

by Janet Dawson

  Jill greeted the couple in their native Italian, then switched to English as Mr. Constanza showed their tickets to the conductor. Then the Constanzas followed the Red Cap who wheeled their luggage toward the observation car entrance.

  “I’m Mrs. Clive. I have a bedroom on this train.” The woman had an imperious voice. She presented her ticket with a haughty flourish, tilting her pointed chin upward. She appeared to be in her forties, dressed in an expensive beige suit. She had a fox stole draped over her cashmere coat and a tiny hat perched on her tightly permed brown hair.

  The Pullman conductor examined her ticket. “Yes, ma’am. I see you’re traveling to McCook, Nebraska. You’re in bedroom D on the Silver Palisade, car fifteen.” He handed the ticket to her.

  Mrs. Clive took the ticket and directed her waspish voice to the Red Cap who was carrying two leather suitcases and an overnight case. “Be careful with those cases.” Then she looked past Jill and her eyes widened. “Is that Angelo Constanza, the tenor? He’s traveling on this train? How lovely. I’ll have to renew our acquaintance. I met him at a party in Pacific Heights. And saw him perform, of course. He was marvelous in Pagliacci and Aida. And his Alfredo in La Traviata. Oh, simply divine.” The woman gave Jill a condescending smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard him sing.”

  Jill smiled. “As a matter of fact, I have. And you’re right, he is marvelous.”

  Mrs. Clive’s smile cooled. She opened the handbag hanging from her left wrist and took out a cigarette case that looked like an envelope, with a stamp engraved in the upper right corner. With one gloved finger she opened the flap on the other side and shook out a cigarette. The tall man behind her quickly held out his own cigarette lighter, a battered Zippo. “Oh, thank you,” she told him as the flame flared. She lit her cigarette and inhaled smoke, tucking the case in her purse. “Now, the Silver Palisade. Which car is that?”

  “Just follow me, ma’am,” the Red Cap said. Mrs. Clive moved off, her heels tapping on the platform.

  Jill glanced up at the tall, dark-haired man, who carried a small leather suitcase in his left hand. His right hand still held the cigarette lighter. Now Jill saw that it had an inscription on the side, but she couldn’t quite read it. He smiled at Jill, shut the lighter, and tucked it into his pocket.

  “Heading for Denver, I see,” the conductor said. “Well, Mr. Paynter, you’re in bedroom A on car sixteen, the Silver Gull. We’re due to arrive in Denver tomorrow evening at seven.”

  The man thanked the conductor and moved away, whistling as he swung his suitcase. Jill turned to answer a question posed by another passenger. Then she gave a young couple directions to the first chair car. The flood of passengers from the ferry slowed to a trickle as people moved toward their cars and boarded the train.

  “Are you in the army? My mom was in the army. My dad, too.”

  Jill smiled down at the little boy. He was about six, with dark hair and brown eyes.

  “I’m a Zephyrette,” she said. Indeed, her tailored teal-blue suit could be mistaken for a military uniform. The jacket had a monogram on the left breast pocket, reading ZEPHYRETTE, and so did her garrison cap. The white blouse under the jacket also had a CZ monogram and she wore a Zephyr pin as well.

  “What’s a Zephyrette?” the boy asked, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar word.

  “I’m a hostess for the train,” Jill told him. “I do all sorts of things, like make announcements on the public address system. If you hurt your finger I’ll give you a bandage. And if your mom and dad want to get away by themselves for a while, I’ll entertain you.”

  “I’ll take you up on that,” the boy’s mother said with a laugh. She, too, had dark hair and brown eyes. Under her short tweed jacket she wore a simple, full-skirted dress made of topaz jersey. She had another little boy in tow, this one about four. She held his hand. In the other hand, she carried a large purse and a blue overnight case. “Sometimes keeping up with these two just wears me out. We’re the Bensons, headed for Colorado, to spend Christmas with family. And we’re all very excited about our first trip on the Zephyr.”

  “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Benson,” Jill said. “You’re in for a treat. You’ll see some beautiful scenery along the way, in the Sierra and the Rockies. Since it’s so near Christmas, I’ve planned a party for the children onboard. I’m sure your boys would like that.”

  “Yes, they would,” the woman said.

  “We want to look at the engines,” the older boy said. “Can we do that, Mom? Please?” His younger brother echoed the request.

  “Wait till your dad is finished with the luggage,” his mother said. She glanced back at her husband, a slender blond man in a blue suit and tie who was handing the family’s suitcases to a Red Cap. Then he stepped up to the Pullman conductor, tickets in hand.

  “Those are diesel locomotives,” Jill told the boys, “three of them, from the Western Pacific Railroad. When we get to Salt Lake City, we change to five engines, from the Denver and Rio Grande Western. We need the extra power to pull the train over the Rocky Mountains.”

  “Billy and Chip are mad for trains,” Mrs. Benson said, as her husband joined them.

  “I’m Miss McLeod, the Zephyrette. If there’s anything I can do to help during the journey, please let me know. I’ll come around later to make dinner reservations. And I would be happy to keep an eye on your boys if you and Mr. Benson would like some time alone.”

  “Sounds like a good deal,” Mr. Benson said with a pleasant smile. He consulted the tickets. “We’ve got two bedrooms on the…Silver Palisade.”

  “That’s car fifteen,” Jill said. “I’ll show you where it is.”

  Jill walked with them to the Silver Palisade and beckoned to Frank Nathan, a tall, slender Pullman porter in a tailored uniform and cap. He stood near the metal step box at the car’s vestibule, calling out the number of his car.

  “Good morning,” Jill said. “The Bensons are traveling on this car.”

  “You go on, Norma,” Mr. Benson said, handing the tickets to his wife. “I’ll take the boys up to look at those locomotives.”

  Frank Nathan touched his cap and glanced at the tickets. “Very good, sir. Mrs. Benson, you and your family are in bedrooms E and F. May I take that overnight case?” He reached out his hand and Mrs. Benson gave him the case. He set it in the vestibule, then held out his hand again. “Now, watch your step, please.” She climbed the steps up to the vestibule and he followed. Mr. Benson took his sons by their hands and headed for the front of the train.

  A moment later Mr. Nathan returned to the vestibule and waved in Jill’s direction before he stepped down to assist other passengers.

  “That’s my son Frank.”

  So that’s who the porter was waving at. Like her son, the older woman was tall. Her face, with its high cheekbones and full lips, was the same dark coffee brown. Her short black hair, threaded with silver, was combed back from her round face. A sprig of holly decorated the lapel of her gray wool coat, worn over her plain gray dress.

  To the woman’s left was a little girl, about nine, blond with blue eyes, a dusting of freckles on her thin face. She wore a green sweater buttoned over a white blouse and a green-and-blue-plaid skirt. In one hand she carried a small pink overnight case. The other hand cradled a button-eyed teddy bear made of corduroy, the same golden-brown color as the maple syrup Jill had poured on her waffles that morning.

  “I’m Stella Nathan,” the woman said.

  “I’m Jill McLeod. I’m the Zephyrette on this run.”

  Mrs. Nathan nodded. “I know. Your father is Doctor Amos McLeod. I used to keep house for the Ericsons, across the street from your family. Frank told me you’d be on this train. I need to ask you a favor, Miss McLeod.”

  “What sort of a favor?”

  Mrs. Nathan put her left hand on the little girl’s shoulder and drew her closer. “This is Emily Charlton. I was housekeeper for her father. They lived in officers’ quarters at the Naval Air Station in Alameda. Em
ily will be on the train, all the way to Denver. I’d really appreciate your keeping an eye on her.”

  The little girl looked familiar. Then Jill realized this was the child she’d seen earlier, with the Navy officer and the redheaded woman. Now she saw them again, talking with another couple. They turned and walked toward Mrs. Nathan and the little girl, who had remained silent through this exchange, staying close to Mrs. Nathan, a look of apprehension on her face.

  “Those aren’t her parents?” Jill indicated the Navy officer and his wife. No, as the young couple approached, she saw that the child didn’t resemble either of them. The woman’s hair was a vibrant carroty red, and the man was dark.

  Mrs. Nathan shook her head. “The Fielders? No, they’re the next-door neighbors. Emily’s been staying with them. You see, her daddy passed recently. Her mama passed some time ago. She’s going to Denver to live with her grandma.”

  “Is she traveling alone?” In her head, Jill reviewed the California Zephyr’s policies on children traveling alone. She’d turn the girl over to Traveler’s Aid in Denver.

  “She’s supposed to have someone with her.” Mrs. Nathan frowned. “A Mrs. Grace Tidsdale. But she’s not here yet.”

  “Don’t worry, Stella. I’m sure Mrs. Tidsdale will be here soon.” The Fielders now joined them. Lieutenant Commander Fielder had an aviator’s insignia on his uniform. Beneath her roomy blue coat, Mrs. Fielder wore a maternity blouse over her protruding abdomen. She turned to Jill and smiled. “Hi, I’m Maxine Fielder. This is my husband, Chet.”

  “Jill McLeod. I’m the Zephyrette on this run.”

  “She’s Dr. McLeod’s daughter,” Mrs. Nathan said. “She’ll keep an eye on Emily.”

  “Thanks, we’d all appreciate that,” Commander Fielder said. “Emily’s bags are checked through to Denver.”

  The Navy officer held out the ticket to Emily, along with a small zippered purse with a strap. It was made of bright red silk. Jill had seen dozens like it in Chinatown.

  “This is your train ticket, Emily,” the commander said. “Keep it safe. And here’s a little purse with some money for you to have on the train, to buy your meals and other things if you like.”

  “Thank you.” Emily’s whisper was so low that Jill barely heard it. The little girl took the ticket and tucked it into her skirt pocket. She hung the purse on her shoulder.

  “You’re going to stay in a bedroom in that car right over there, where Frank is,” Mrs. Nathan added. “It’s called the Silver Palisade. Frank will look after you, and so will Miss McLeod. I do wish Mrs. Tidsdale would get here. This train is about to leave.”

  “We have some time,” Jill assured her. Not much, she thought, consulting her wristwatch.

  Emily tugged Mrs. Nathan’s hand. The woman pulled the child away from the group, then she knelt, talking with the child in a low voice.

  “Mrs. Nathan tells me Emily’s father died recently,” Jill said.

  “He was killed in Korea, just after Thanksgiving,” Chet Fielder said.

  A shadow passed over Jill’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Emily has been living with us since her father died. I wish that could go on indefinitely but Chet’s getting ready to deploy to Korea himself.” Mrs. Fielder stopped and looked worried. With an effort she returned to her previous cheery expression. “We’re giving up our quarters on base. I’m moving down to San Diego to stay with my mom until Chet comes home.” She patted her belly. “The baby’s due in two months.”

  “Is Mrs. Tidsdale a relative of Emily’s?” Jill asked.

  Maxine Fielder shook her head. “She’s no relation at all. Emily’s grandmother, Mrs. Charlton, doesn’t want Emily to travel alone, and I can’t blame her, under the circumstances. Her plan was to come out here and take Emily back to Denver. But Mrs. Charlton fell and broke her ankle. Her son, Emily’s uncle Robert, arranged for someone to escort Emily. I gather Mrs. Tidsdale is a friend of his who lives in San Francisco.”

  Mrs. Fielder glanced at her watch and frowned. “I have no idea what Mrs. Tidsdale looks like. I’ve never actually met her, or even talked with her. All I know is, she is supposed to meet us here, at the Oakland Mole. I thought she’d be on the ferry. I hope she gets here soon. Stella and I want to talk with her about Emily, before the train leaves.”

  “Emily’s nervous about the trip, traveling with a stranger,” Mrs. Nathan said as she rejoined the group, holding the little girl’s hand. “She’s still upset about her daddy.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Jill said, “to keep an eye on her and cheer her up. Emily will be in Denver in time to open presents Christmas morning.”

  A man and a woman approached Jill with questions. She stepped away and talked with the passengers. When they moved away toward their car, she glanced at her watch again. The train was due to leave soon.

  As if to underscore that fact, Mr. Wylie’s voice boomed out as the conductor walked past, calling, “Now boarding, the California Zephyr. Destination Chicago, with stops in Stockton, Sacramento, Marysville, Oroville, Portola, Winnemucca…”

  Jill walked toward the Silver Palisade. The Fielders and Mrs. Nathan, holding Emily Charlton’s hand, still waited near the entrance to the sleeping car. The little girl looked forlorn as she clutched her well-worn corduroy teddy bear. There was still no sign of Mrs. Tidsdale.

  “Emily should go ahead and board.” Jill looked up at Mr. Nathan, waiting in the vestibule. “She’s in bedroom A.”

  The porter held out his hand. “I’ll put that case in your bedroom while you say your good-byes.”

  Emily handed him the pink overnight case and he stepped into the passageway. Maxine Fielder hugged the little girl and her husband patted Emily’s head. Then Emily flung her arms around Stella Nathan. The housekeeper returned the embrace, then looked up at Frank, who’d returned to the vestibule.

  “Go on with Frank,” Mrs. Nathan told the little girl. “He and Miss McLeod will take care of you.”

  Emily sighed and gripped her teddy bear. Then she climbed the steps to the vestibule. The conductor was coming back this way, calling, “All aboard.”

  Jill scanned the platform. No sign of any last-minute arrivals. What had happened to Mrs. Tidsdale? Was she elderly, forgetful? Had she mistaken the departure time? Whatever the reason, she was going to miss the train.

  Then she saw a Red Cap hurrying along the platform, carrying a suitcase and an overnight bag. The woman walking behind him had a tiny red hat perched on her brassy blond hair. She wore a bright red dress. A mink jacket swirled around her swaying hips. She was wreathed in smoke from the cigarette she carried in one bejeweled hand. Her fingernails were the same bright red as her lipstick.

  Frank Nathan jumped down from the Silver Palisade vestibule to take the woman’s luggage from the Red Cap. The woman stopped and put one hand on her hip, weaving back and forth on her high-heeled pumps. She hiccupped. Jill caught the unmistakable reek of whisky.

  The blonde winked one mascaraed blue eye. “Never fear, Tidsy’s here.”

  Chapter Three

  Mrs. Grace Tidsdale tossed her cigarette to the platform and ground it out with the toe of her red leather pump. Then she pulled a red leather change purse from her matching handbag and tipped the Red Cap. She clambered up the steps to the Silver Palisade vestibule, oblivious to Stella Nathan’s withering glare and the shock on Maxine Fielder’s face. Once aboard, she wove from side to side, as though the train was already moving.

  “You mus’ be Em’ly.” She slurred her words as she reached out one hand to touch the little girl’s hair. Emily shrank back, eyes widening in alarm as she clutched her teddy bear. “I’m Mrs. Tidsdale. Call me Tidsy. I’m going to ride the train with you. Won’t that be fun? Choo choo!” She snorted with laughter as she ran a red-tipped hand through her blond curls. Then she turned to Frank Nathan and smiled. “Now, Porter, if you’ll escort Emily and me to our bedroom, we’ll get settled in.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. With qui
ck, practiced movements he leaned down and grabbed the step box, standing it on its side in the vestibule. When he closed the door, the steps raised until the vestibule floor was flat, extending from door to door. He locked the door. Then he picked up Mrs. Tidsdale’s luggage. “This way, ma’am. You and Emily are in bedroom A.” He moved down the passageway. Mrs. Tidsdale teetered behind him. Jill and Emily followed.

  The Silver Palisade was, in railroad parlance, a ten-six sleeper. Just past the porter’s accommodations were ten roomettes designated by numbers, five on either side of the central passageway, each suitable for one person. A roomette to Denver was $21.50; to Chicago, $29.40. In the middle of the car a door on the left hid the soiled linen locker. Here the corridor jogged to the right, then left again, leading to six double bedrooms designated by letters, doors on the left facing the windows on the right side of the car. The term “double bedroom” meant the compartment could accommodate two people, one in a bench seat that transformed into a lower berth, another in an upper berth that the porter unlocked with a key and then lowered. In the case of a family traveling together, such as the Bensons in bedrooms E and F, a door between two double bedrooms could be opened to allow passage between the two bedrooms. Or the entire wall could be folded aside, to make a larger space. The Bensons were paying $33.95 each for those bedrooms.

  Frank Nathan stopped just outside bedroom A and gestured to Mrs. Tidsdale, who wobbled a bit as she entered. The porter deposited her luggage inside. “Here’s where you control the heat and ventilation,” he said, pointing. “And here’s the call button. You just press that if you need me. Now, that bench seat makes into the lower berth. When you and Emily are ready for bed, I’ll lower the upper berth from the ceiling.”

  He opened a door. “Here’s the lavatory. That sink folds down from the wall, like this.” He reached out and demonstrated, pulling the sink down, then raising it again. "When you’re done with it, you just push that sink up against the wall, and the water drains out in the pipes between the walls.” He shut the door to the lavatory and stepped into the doorway, pointing. “Just ahead of us are the dining car and the buffet-lounge car. There’s a Vista-Dome above the lounge. And there’s another Vista-Dome back in the observation car at the end of the train.”