Violet Vanquishes a Villain

by M. Louisa Locke

  “You can be sure we do,” Campion replied. “In fact, both our county sheriff and our chief of police are convinced that most of the so-called ‘knights of the green’ who Crowley drove out of San Francisco moved down the peninsula. I was, in fact, just telling Nate that one of these San Francisco operators, Garrett Driver, just started running one of our largest saloons. Chief Haskell thinks that the roulette wheel he’s installed is rigged.”

  Estelle Campion chimed in, “Thomas believes that a recent spike in burglaries and violent crime in town is a direct result of this influx of gamblers.”

  Annie, relieved that her insertion into the men’s conversation wasn’t causing a problem, said, “That’s a shame. I am afraid that we have gotten used to the daily litany of crimes that a city with over 200,000 people is bound to incur. But I suspect the impact on a smaller town like yours is particularly upsetting.”

  “Yes, because with the tenth the size, we are so much more likely to know the victim…or in some cases even the person who committed the crime.” Estelle shook her head sadly. “One of the women in our church was devastated when she discovered it was her own son who’d stolen her jewelry to pay off a gambling debt.”

  “Idiot boy tried to pawn the stuff here in town. And the pawn broker, who is no fool, alerted us,” her husband said. “But it’s the outside element that is drifting down the peninsula that worries me. Hardened criminals, not above using a weapon. We are in the middle of a trial right now. A man, recently released from San Quentin, held up a couple of women last month who were coming home from the theater. When a local man intervened…the ruffian shot him.”

  His wife interjected, “Thank goodness the young man lived…but it was a close call. And can you believe it? The man’s defense was he’d lost everything at cards and he was just trying to get enough money to get a train out of town!”

  Annie turned back to Thomas Campion and said, “You mentioned the roulette wheel being rigged. Would that make much of a difference? I mean, if local men are going to these places…you mentioned the Golden Belle Saloon…to gamble. Doesn’t the house always win anyway? At least that’s what I once heard.” That’s what John always said…although it never stopped him from gambling.

  “You’re quite right.” He smiled at her. “I gather roulette wheels are particularly easy to manipulate by the dealers. But some saloon owners also let crooked gamblers play in their places for a cut of their winnings. The danger then is that the gambler or dealer will draw in someone who is new to this vice by letting them win small amounts at first…then once they are really and truly hooked…fleece them of everything they have.”

  “And you think this is what is happening at the Golden Belle?” Nate asked.

  “Yes. Haskell, our chief of police, said that he wrote to a friend of his in law enforcement in Denver, where Driver operated for nearly two years before moving first to San Francisco and then here. Haskell’s friend said that Driver was known to employ ringers, men who were secretly working for the saloon, to get local lads to come to gamble in his saloon in Denver.”

  “And you don’t have the laws on the books to close this Driver down?” Nate asked.

  “Gambling per se isn’t illegal in San Jose. And cheating is pretty hard to prove. I mean, loosing at faro or poker or from the spin of a roulette wheel can just as easily be bad luck,” Campion replied. “James Owen, who runs the San Jose Mercury, used the interest over the trial I mentioned to run a series of articles on the dangers of gambling in general and some of the tricks professional gamblers use. We hope that will help.”

  Avoiding Nate’s eyes, Annie asked, “You mentioned what you called ringers? Do you know who they are? Seems if you can expose them in some way…this might help.”

  “There is one fellow we have our eye on. Geoffrey Bickers. Slick young man who recently moved into town. Dresses like a dandy, throws money around, and flirts with the town’s mammas, who all think he is a perfect catch for their daughters and the perfect companion for their sons. But one of our constables, who’s been hanging out at the Golden Belle to give us some eyes on the inside, says Bickers frequents this saloon most nights, often bringing along those favored sons.”

  “And you think he might be one of these ringers?” Annie asked.

  “Haskell is sure of it. Turns out the young man was in Denver at the same time as Driver. And the constable says Bickers is suspiciously lucky when he plays roulette. Could be his kick-back for roping in so many greenhorns. Problem is…Bickers is the nephew of one of our most prominent citizens…George Eagan…owns the San Jose National Bank. In fact, Bickers works for his uncle as head cashier, which makes him pretty untouchable.”

  “Now Annie, I know what you are thinking. Violet’s brother, Alec, is one of these local young men who Campion was talking about…who got drawn into trouble by this Bickers. But there still isn’t anything we can do about it.”

  They were on the way back to the ranch after a pleasant evening of fine dining and watching a well-acted version of the Shakespeare comedy, Much Ado About Nothing. But he knew his wife (his wife…he still felt like pinching himself) would have noted that Bickers, the man that local authorities had their eyes on, worked in the very same bank as Violet’s brother. It did stand to reason that he might be the person who had drawn Alec into whatever financial difficulties he was facing.

  “But shouldn’t I at least tell Violet that her suspicions about Geoffrey Bickers are probably correct? She could warn her brother. Tell him what the local chief of police said––that Bickers is a known associate of the saloon owner and that there was a very good chance the games at the Golden Belle are rigged.”

  “And what if Alec then turns around and tells Bickers he is under suspicion? Tom would not be happy, I can assure you…and to what avail? If Violet’s brother has given up his plans for going to the university…this probably means he’s already lost his savings. What good is it going to do to tell him he was just part of a swindle? He’s young…he will recover…and maybe it will be a good learning experience for him.”

  He could feel her move restlessly on the wooden seat beside him. Nate looked over at her, struck by the way the swinging carriage lantern struck fire into her blonde curls and picked up the silver threads in her dress. Sometimes her beauty left him speechless.

  Annie said, “I think what worries me the most is how he got the money to buy that mining stock, if he really paid a thousand dollars for it. From what Violet said, he isn’t on good terms with his father, so it is very unlikely he got the money to invest from him. And she just laughed when I asked if he could have borrowed money from their mother, saying that her mother was always in hot water for overspending her household allowance…so that was unlikely.”

  “So you think he might be in trouble with a money lender of some sort?”

  “What worries me is that he works for a bank…alongside someone who we now know has a very shady reputation.”

  “Annie…you aren’t thinking Alec is involved in some sort of embezzling scheme? That would be awful.”

  Nate thought of the major scandal that had broken out when it turned out the wealthy owner of the San Francisco Pioneer Land Bank, Joseph Duncan, had absconded with over a million dollars in bank assets. Annie had a former client who’d lost a good chunk of his savings when the bank was declared bankrupt.

  “Yes, that is exactly what I am worried about. And this would mean more than the temporary postponement of Alec’s career goals. He could go to prison. Imagine what this would do to the reputation of Violet’s whole family? And your family by association.”

  Nate’s mind raced down all the alleyways this idea led. Then he said firmly, “I’m sorry, Annie. I just don’t see Violet’s brother being involved in that sort of scandal. It would be so monumentally dumb to steal money from your employer in order to buy mining stock. With stock, even stock that eventually pays out––you wouldn’t expect to get your money back quickly—which you would need to do in order to rep
lace the funds so no one would catch you. Remember, I’ve met Alec. And while he’s young, he still struck me as a good deal smarter than his sister. Asked me some fairly intelligent questions about what it had been like going to Harvard—which now makes sense since we know he was interested in going to university.”

  “Then were did he get the money?”

  Nate said, “Maybe the amount wasn’t $1000. You said the stocks are pretty worthless now? He could have bought them once their value had plummeted—for a song—in the hope that at some point they would improve in value. In that case, he wouldn’t have had to do anything more than invest his savings. Stupid…but not criminal.” He shrugged. “No, I think it’s getting caught up in gambling which is behind his recent behavior. And if he is truly out of money, Bickers or whomever he is working with will drop him soon enough and move on to some new pigeon to pluck. Then he will get back to work helping build Billy’s new house, a poorer but wiser young man.”

  Annie snuggled up against him and said, “Well, I certainly hope you’re right. But let’s not think about Violet or her brother or anyone else for that matter any more tonight. Let’s think how you are going to give me a lovely back rub when we get home to rid me of all the aches and pains I have accumulated from an eight-hour horseback ride yesterday and a morning spent gardening with your mother.”

  Then she laid her head on his shoulder and murmured, “…or maybe you will find some other part of me to comfort.”

  Nate shook the reins vigorously, encouraging the team to pick up its pace to speed them on their way.

  Chapter 5

  Thursday evening, August 12, 1880

  San Jose

  Violet stood looking down at her sleeping son, feeling completely out of sorts. She could hear laughter coming from the kitchen, where Annie was helping Mother Dawson with the dishes and where the men folk were gathered around “keeping them company.” Whatever that meant. Billy and his father never did that. If they didn’t have any more chores to do outside, they usually sat on the porch together, Billy smoking one of his filthy cigarettes…Father Dawson often having a drink, which he said helped his arthritis.

  This was the time of day Violet usually loved best. Alone with her mother-in-law, going over the day’s events, planning what chores needed to be accomplished the next day, sharing funny stories about what Francis had done during the day. But all day Annie had taken her place. Mother Dawson kept saying that she should rest…enjoy just taking care of ‘Frankie.’

  She hated that Billy called their son Frankie and now he had everyone else, including Mother Dawson, doing so. Nicknames were for the lower classes, Violet’s mother always said.

  Nicknames like Billy. One of the reasons her mother was so dismissive when he started courting Violet over three years ago. Since the Dawsons attended the same church she and her parents attended, she’d always known Billy, but since he was three years older, he never paid her any attention until she started assisting Mother Dawson in teaching the Sunday School class. He would often be the one to bring his mother into town for the class, which met the hour before services. He’d help get the chairs arranged and so forth, always with an easy smile for her.

  Then Mother Dawson started asking her to come out to the ranch for Sunday dinner so they could plan the next Sunday’s class, and he’d be the one who took her back into town. He didn’t say much. But she rather liked the silence…time to think about the interesting things his mother had to say as they read the Bible together and discussed its meaning.

  Mother Dawson was the first person ever to take her seriously…to think she might have something valuable to say. And her quiet voice and gentle ways were so soothing compared to her own mother’s shrill complaints or the loud wrangles between her mother and father about her mother’s spending.

  Before marriage, with the quiet carriage rides and his deferential treatment of her parents, she’d assumed that Billy was just like his mother. In fact, during the years he courted her, she saw it as a challenge to draw him out, he seemed so shy. She was so proud when he started to tell her about his dreams for the future of the ranch. Pleased that she’d been able to get her mother to invite Billy, who she still insisted on calling William, to dinner so her father could hear his plans. Violet knew his willingness to take her father’s advice about what to plant appealed to her father’s vanity…and smoothed the way for her eventual marriage.

  Tonight, hearing Billy’s laugh booming through the house, she had to admit to herself that those silent carriage rides were more a result of him not knowing what to say to her…rather than him having the same temperament as his mother. This week, watching Mother Dawson’s serious conversations with Nate, she finally saw that it was the older son who resembled his mother, while Billy was much more like his father.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t love Father Dawson. He was kind and considerate, and he obviously loved and respected his wife. But there was a…well…very rough side to him that sometimes she found difficult.

  He laughed a lot. Loudly. At the pranks the ranch hands played on each other or the jokes he heard at the feed store or at his wife’s quiet witticisms. Sometimes he would tease Mother Dawson until her cheeks reddened. And when he and Billy came into the house, scattering mud, and animal smells, and tools, they just sort of filled up the space. Which was why she didn’t mind that the two men only joined her and her mother-in-law in the parlor for the hour before bedtime. The women worked on the ever-present chore of mending while the men played checkers or worked on repairing some mysterious tool or leather strap that was somehow crucial to the running of the ranch.

  She did find those hours pleasant…as were the brief interludes when she and Billy were alone together at night before they fell asleep. Those nights when she wasn’t feeling too tired…or when Francis didn’t need a final nursing…or Billy didn’t fall instantly asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  Another gust of laughter interrupted this thought, and Violet’s irritation increased. How inconsiderate they are being. They will wake the baby.

  She quickly left the nursery, closing the door behind her, and went down the hallway to the kitchen. She was planning on telling them to be quiet, but she realized she couldn’t shush her own mother-in-law, so she just stood quietly in the kitchen doorway, observing.

  She was surprised to see it was Annie washing the dishes and Nathaniel, looking ridiculous in an apron, who was drying. Mother Dawson sat at the table with her husband and Billy, laughing at her son’s pretended confusion over where the plate in his hands should be stacked. Such nonsense. She couldn’t imagine Billy helping out in the kitchen…any more than he would ask her opinion about the orchards. Although, after growing up watching her father build up his business, she might actually have something to contribute if he did.

  No. It wasn’t seemly for a man to put on an apron and pretend to be a woman. And even more unseemly for a woman to pretend to be a man, like that odd woman Amelia Bloomer who went around wearing pants under short skirts.

  She would have said that her mother-in-law agreed with her. Yet yesterday when Violet questioned the appropriateness of Annie continuing to do what she called her “business consulting” work…let alone pretending to be some sort of fortune teller, Mother Dawson said she was pleased that Annie and Nate saw their marriage as a partnership. She pointed out that she and Violet, by doing things like cooking and doing laundry for the ranch hands or working in the vegetable garden and taking care of the hens, were doing something similar because they were helping support the family business.

  She’d gone on to say, “With Annie’s income from the boarding house and her other accounting and such work, she and Nate could afford to marry now rather than later. And Nate can afford to practice the kind of law he wants to practice. I was becoming afraid that, like his uncle Frank, if he had to wait until he made enough money to support a wife, he’d never marry.”

  Violet supposed that made sense, but surely when Mother Dawson
talked about Annie and her son having a partnership, she didn’t mean doing kitchen chores together?

  Since no one seemed to notice she was even there, Violet shrugged and began to turn away.

  But she stopped and turned around when she heard Annie say, “Violet, do come in and rescue Nate before he goes and drops something and is forever in his mother’s black books. Unless you would like to sit down…I know you have been on your feet all day.”

  “Is Francis sleeping?” her mother-in-law said, scooting her chair over so it would be easy for Violet to sit between Billy and her if she wished.

  Billy, who’d stood up when he noticed she was there…at least he was a gentleman in that way…pulled the chair out for her, saying, “Yes, do sit down. It’s way too much fun teasing Nate, let him finish.”

  She sat down and started to tell her mother-in-law about how long it had taken to get Francis to sleep when Billy interrupted her and said, “Violet, honey, you should have heard the story Nate just told about what Annie did last winter. Seems there was someone who was sending these letters filled with lies accusing San Francisco teachers of all sorts of things. Annie hatched this scheme to find out who it was. Can you imagine it? And some political bigwig…I guess his daughter was one of the teachers being attacked…hid in a room while Annie confronted the person and got it all sorted out.”

  Violet looked over at her sister-in-law, who was busy in conversation with her husband, and she said in a low tone, “I don’t understand, Billy. Why wasn’t this a job for the police? And how could your brother and this other man let a woman do what was clearly a man’s job?”

  Billy laughed. “I suspect my brother didn’t have much say in any of it. Looks to me like that wife of his pretty much makes her own decisions.” He then smiled at her and said, “Not what I’d like in a wife…but it seems to suit him.”