“No, you’re right. I’m worrying too much.” Jack wandered over to stand in front of the map, staring the way Gabe had earlier. “Sadie’s got her heart set on a church wedding and having her mother there. It’s important to her, but I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach each time I think about all the people at the church. All the strangers. Any one of them could be Ethan Brennan and I’d never know.”
A sharp knock rattled the frosted glass in the pine-framed door. “Lieutenant Ryan?”
Gabe recognized both the voice and the broad-shouldered silhouette. “Come in, Rockwell.”
Jack turned away from the map, hands in his pockets and perfectly composed. His partner might let Gabe see how he felt, but never the men serving under them.
Lon Rockwell ushered a slight, dark-haired boy of about twelve or thirteen into the room ahead of him. The boy held a battered cap in one hand and the other clutched the strap of a newsboy’s bag slung over his shoulder. His jacket and trousers were fairly clean, and the holes in his shoes patched. Gabe figured the boy had a home to go to at night and a mother to look after him.
“Lieutenant, Sergeant Fitzgerald, this is Jeff Murdock. I’ve known him going on a year now. His regular spot to sell papers is on my beat, right out in front of the Ferry Building.” Rockwell patted the boy’s shoulder. “Jeff’s a good boy. Never causes trouble and takes his earnings home to his ma every night. It’s just the two of them since his pa died last year. When he caught up to me this evening and asked if I knew you, I figured you should talk to him.”
Gabe moved around to the front of his desk, sitting on the corner so he didn’t loom over the boy. Rockwell wouldn’t drag Jeff downtown and into the station without a damn good reason, especially now. He’d have wagered his far-distant pension that reason was Ethan Brennan. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jeff. This is my partner, Sergeant Fitzgerald.”
Jack flipped the visitor’s chair around and scooted it closer to the newsboy. His partner straddled the seat, putting himself nearly at eye level with Jeff. Gabe sat back and let him take the lead. If anyone could put the boy at ease, Jack could.
“Good to see you, Jeff.” Jack smiled and gestured toward the canvas newsboy bag. “What paper do you work for?”
“The Examiner. Lots of folk like to read on the ferry ride. A big paper lasts longer so I sell more.” He pulled back against Rockwell, wary and scared. “Lon said I won’t get in no trouble coming here. He promised.”
“You’re not in trouble.” Jack grinned and raked fingers through his unruly hair, so that it stood up curly and wild. He looked younger that way, less like a cop and more like someone the boy would play stickball with. “If Lon vouches for you, that’s good enough. We just want to get to know you.”
Rockwell patted the boy’s shoulder. “Go ahead and tell them the story you told me. Remember what I said, take your time and don’t feel you need to rush.”
Jeff stuffed his cap in a back pocket. “The noon ferry was gone, so there weren’t many people around. I found a shady spot to sit and eat, hidden up next to the wall. I try to stay out of the way so I don’t get bothered. My ma sends something with me near everyday. Says a boy my age needs to eat. That I work hard and shouldn’t go the whole day on an empty belly.”
Gabe smiled, matching Jack’s friendly manner near as he could and burying impatience deep. Pushing the boy would frighten him and likely make Jeff forget important things. “Your mother’s right. I ate all the time when I was your age and I didn’t work half as hard. Did something happen while you were having dinner?”
He nodded, hazel eyes large and solemn in his grime-smudged face. “Yes, sir. A man came up and asked if he could hire me for an important job. I didn’t want to talk to him. Some of the older boys told me to watch out for men who get too friendly and want me to go off with them. I thought he was that kind at first, or meant to rob me of the coin I’d earned. I told him to let me be or I’d be yelling for the police.”
“That was smart, Jeff.” Rockwell ruffled the boy’s hair. “You did exactly right.”
“What happened then?” Jack rested his arms across the back of the chair and leaned forward, his posture eager and attentive. “Did he leave?”
“No, he stepped closer and bent down so he could see me better. He promised he weren’t asking anything to get me in Dutch with the cops. Said he just wanted me to deliver a message and that’d he’d pay me two dollars for the job.” Jeff jiggled on his toes and clutched the canvas strap tighter. All his attention was on Jack, one boy telling another about his scary but exciting adventure. Gabe would never understand how Jack worked his magic with witnesses, but he was always grateful. “I still felt funny, but there’s whole weeks I don’t make two dollars. So I said if all he wanted was message carrying, I’d do it. That’s when he gave me money and told me to ask any cop on the street for Gabe Ryan. He said they’d know where to send me.”
“Jeff found me soon as I came on duty, Lieutenant. I brought him straight here.” Lon Rockwell’s hands rested easy on the boy’s shoulders, but his expression was anything but relaxed. The boy had seen Ethan Brennan’s face. He was marked now, they all knew that. The only one who didn’t know was Jeff.
Gabe added the boy and his mother to the list of people he needed to protect. He crouched in front of Jeff, back against the desk and hands resting easy on his knees. “Lon’s right. You did exactly the right thing. What message are you supposed to give me?”
“I made certain not to lose it.” The boy dipped a hand into the canvas bag and came up with a pale blue envelope. He held it out to Gabe. “He said to give you this. He said you’d know what to do with it once I handed it over.”
He forced a smile and took the envelope. “Thank you, Jeff. I do know what to do with this.” Gabe stood and met Rockwell’s gaze. “Take Jeff into the patrolman’s lounge and see what you can find for him to eat. Better yet, send a rookie out for food and I’ll pay for it. Then have the desk sergeant dispatch some men to bring his mother here. I don’t want her to worry about him. Sergeant Fitzgerald and I will want to talk to him again before he goes home.”
“Yes, sir.” Rockwell ushered the boy out. Gabe counted to a hundred, giving them time to get out of earshot and battling for calm. He lost.
“That evil son of a bitch. Brennan thinks he’s untouchable.” Gabe flung the envelope onto the desk blotter. He paced the length of the office, shoving down the urge to rage and punch things. Hitting the wall might make him feel better, but he was just as likely to break his hand in the process. “Using that little boy is supposed to remind me he can take anyone he wants.”
“He can. We know his name, but nothing else has changed.” Jack cleared his throat and dragged the visitor’s chair back to the side of Gabe’s desk. “But he’s getting cocky and that’s his first real mistake. Open the letter, Gabe. Let’s see how much he plans to up the ante.”
Gabe yanked his chair out and sat, disgusted and disheartened at the same time. San Francisco was still a hunting ground for Ethan Brennan. The city was full of visitors come to see the Pan Pacific, with more pouring in each day as the warmer days of summer began. Ethan was just another anonymous face in the crowd, with little to fear in terms of being caught.
A sense of futility infused itself in every gesture, but Gabe went through the procedure they’d set, covering the desk in clean paper and wearing cotton gloves to open the envelope. Using Jeff to deliver the letter canceled any chance of fingerprints on the outside, but he couldn’t dismiss the possibility of Ethan making a mistake and leaving a trace of himself behind. They knew who he was now. They still needed evidence to tie him to the crimes.
Evidence that would send Ethan Brennan to the gallows.
The crisp black ink was the same, the sketched figures of Anubis and Osiris in the customary place instead of a signature, but the message from Ethan had changed.
“He’s offering us a challenge, Jack. A sporting chance as he calls it.” He passed the sheet
s of cheap paper to his partner. “Ethan’s warning us he plans to kill two people at the fairgrounds during the fireworks exhibition on Fourth of July. If we find him in time, they get to live.”
Jack read aloud. “‘Two will be chosen from the crowd and taken for judgment in my father’s court. The beast waits to consume hearts heavy with sin.’” He thumbed through the rest of the letter and handed it back. “I don’t know why I wager against Dora, I always lose. I bet her that Ethan was faking the obsession with the court of the dead, but he really is a madman. No wonder she laughed and told Daniel to take my money. What are the chances of getting the mayor to close the fair on the Fourth?”
“Probably about the same as you winning a bet with Dora.” A sharp pain behind his eye joined the throbbing in his temples. Supper might help, sleep definitely would. “I’m hoping Jeff can remember the man he saw well enough to give us a description. Talking to him is your job, he’ll be more comfortable with you and Rockwell. I’ll talk to Jeff’s mother. Once the box from Sheriff Leeds arrives and Dad takes a look at everything, maybe we’ll have an idea of what Brennan looks like. We have five days to come up with a plan.”
Jack tugged at his mustache and frowned. “I don’t trust this. Why give us warning this time?”
“I don’t trust this either, he still thinks he’s smarter than us. Ethan has something planned.” Something to make them look like fools. Gabe unlocked his bottom drawer and added the newest letter to the file. He prayed he wouldn’t have to add more pins to the map. “Let’s go talk to Jeff. Maybe he left us some food.”
“Not much chance of that, Lieutenant. He’s a growing boy and a skinny one at that.” Jack pulled open the door and waved him out. “You’ll have to wait and ask Annie to feed you.”
“That would be a real hardship, Sergeant. But if there’s apple pie involved, I think I could bear up.” Gabe’s mood lightened at the thought of seeing Delia and eating in the kitchen with her. Another habit he’d settled into with her, one he dearly loved and wanted to make a permanent part of his life.
After nine years of mourning and dwelling on the past, planning a future with Delia was exciting, if just a bit frightening. That was another hardship he’d bear gladly. The rewards would be more than worth any attack of nerves.
Now that he’d started living again, Gabe didn’t plan to stop.
Delia
I carefully printed another name from Sadie’s list onto a pink envelope, stuffed a wedding invitation inside, and added it to the stack. Sadie labored over addressing the outer envelopes in a neat, rounded hand. We’d nearly buried the oval table in piles of vellum inserts, creamy RSVP cards, and rose-tinted reply envelopes. Even a small wedding required more paper and writing than I’d ever thought possible. Ink-stained fingers and paper cuts had become the norm for both of us.
Mine was the easier task. Sadie had insisted on lettering all the addresses herself, refusing my repeated offers to help. The more wedding chores she took on, the less time she had to dwell on her mother’s illness or what danger Jack might be in at any moment. I sympathized. We shared the same fears, the same worries.
Sadie was better at diversion and distraction. I tended to brood. And I’d other things to dwell upon aside from my worry for Gabe.
Since the trip to Matt and Moira’s farm, more ghosts had come to occupy our house. They were quiet and didn’t do anything beyond watching me, but the numbers grew daily. Aileen had brought them in over the last week, made sure I saw each new addition, and vanished again. Each phantom followed me as Aileen did. I couldn’t escape them.
No one needed to tell me that each new ghost was another of Ethan Brennan’s victims. The truth of that squirmed under my skin, grubs burrowing deep in a fallen log. They wanted me to find where he’d abandoned their bodies and see them placed in proper graves, bringing their loved ones a measure of peace. Knowing what the ghosts wanted didn’t tell me how to find their earthly remains. Dora was my sole hope in this regard.
The doorbell chimed. Annie was forbidden to answer the door on Gabe’s orders, another restriction on our lives. Noah Baxter set his book on the floor and moved to the dining room entrance, hand on his gun. One of the other officers opened the door, greeting Isadora and her cadre of guards. Noah relaxed and went back to his book.
Dora began flirting shamelessly with the man in the entryway almost immediately. Sadie rolled her eyes and kept at her lettering. Charming and enthralling each man in Gabe’s squad, no matter how old or young, was a temptation Dora didn’t attempt to resist. I suspected all of the single men had succumbed to one degree or another, while the older, settled men recognized she wasn’t serious. They played along in any case, all of them flattered even if they didn’t choose to admit to it.
It was a game to Dora, her own form of distraction, and she never carried any flirtation too far. The stress of aiding Gabe and Jack took its toll and she grew thinner, wan, and more fragile each time I saw her. I had enormous respect for her strength, but even the very strong break. This case needed to end soon for all of us.
Isadora swept into the room, dressed in scarlet and gold, the ostrich plumes on her hat bobbing in time with her steps. She winked at me and turned to Noah Baxter. “Noah, please be a dear and ask Annie to bring us some tea. Delia and I have private things to discuss and much as I adore you, I’m going to ask you to leave. I’ve complete faith you can keep us safe from the entryway. Why don’t you see if you can win your money back from Corey? He brought his deck of cards.”
“I won’t play cards with any deck Polk’s had to himself for longer than a minute or two. That’s how I lost in the first place.” Baxter marked his place in the book with a red ribbon and set it on a side table. He held a chair for Dora, getting her settled and comfortable. “I’ll have Annie fetch your tea, Miss Bobet. Should I tell her to bring milk as well as sugar?”
“You remembered!” Dora positively beamed, turning all her considerable charm on Baxter. He stood straighter, preening under her praise and attention. “How thoughtful you are, Noah. Yes, please ask Annie to bring the milk if you would. Perhaps a little something to snack on as well. I’m absolutely famished.”
Sadie rolled her eyes again and I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Before her engagement to Jack, she’d behaved just as outrageously. Not that she’d admit to such behavior now, but I remembered well.
Baxter bustled away, eager to do what ever Isadora asked. She slumped back in her chair, shut her eyes, and rubbed her temples. “I am starving. And this day has been positively draining. Touring murder sites with your charming beau gave me a raging headache, Dee. I may need a little time to recover before we tackle your problem. How many ghosts are there?”
Closing my eyes helped me concentrate and separate the essence of one restless soul from another. What I saw with my eyes wasn’t always true when it came to ghosts. Dora had shown me the trick of seeing with that other sense inside, leaving anything within the house to me as a way to hone my skill. How quickly I’d learned was a frightening blessing. “As near as I can tell, at least twenty, but I feel sure there are more and I just can’t see them well enough to count. A great many of the ghosts cluster together. That makes distinguishing between them harder.”
Dora winced. “Ghosts that clump that tightly are often buried in a common grave and the bones jumbled together. Sorting that when the time comes will be difficult.”
Light played across the wall behind Dora, reflections and shimmers rippling as if a ghostly river flowed through the house. The ghosts of Ethan’s victims kept their distance from Isadora as they did Annie, reluctant to approach her too closely.
I understood why with Annie, she’d threatened to send Aileen away often enough that all the ghosts feared attracting her notice. That wasn’t the case with Dora, but try as I might, the reason eluded me. Perhaps they knew she was stretched to the edge of endurance and didn’t want to drain her further. That the dead might show her compassion was as logical and probable as anythin
g else involving the spirits in my life.
Annie carried in an oval tea tray with deep, raised sides. The tea service and a plate of cookies were nestled into the center, slices of pale yellow cheese, pieces of bread, grapes, and a dish of strawberries wedged into the space around the silver teapot. She set the tray on the one end of the table we hadn’t filled with wedding debris.
“Go ahead and start in. I’ll be back in a tick with milk and sugar for the tea, and a jug of cream for the berries.” Annie wiped her hands on her apron and hurried off. “Be thinking if there’s anything else you might want. I need to get lunch up to Miss Esther soon.”
I piled cheese, bread and grapes on a plate and set it in front of Dora.
“Bless you, Dee.” The skin under Dora’s eyes was the bruised purple of ripe plums. “I’d no idea our tour of the city would drag on so long. I’d have made provisions otherwise.”
Sadie put down her pen and blotted dry the freshly inked envelope. “Did you make any progress?”
Feigning no more than mild curiosity didn’t fool me. Sadie wanted this over as much as any of us. Ethan’s shadow loomed over her wedding and her life with Jack. Progress in finding him was of more than passing interest to her.
“If you mean did we find Ethan’s lair, sadly the answer is no. He’s scattered bodies and left traces of himself all over the city.” Dora broke off tiny pieces of cheese, nibbling each one slowly. As ill as I’d been after touching evidence from Sarah Miles’s death, I could easily imagine how Isadora felt. “The only new thing we learned for certain is that he’d been to Elaine Meadows’s cottage more than once. Ethan might have been seen, or so Gabe hopes. He and Jack have men talking to the neighbors again.”
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