An Agent for Jocelyn

by Lynn Donovan

  Owen glanced at Jocelyn. “Um. Perhaps we should speak elsewhere. You’re mother seems to have had enough excitement for one day.”

  “Yes, of course.” Ralston stood, turning to Bladimir. “See to it that Millie attends mother’s every need.”

  “Yes sir.” Bladimir bowed his head and walked to a velvet-paisley papered wall where he pulled a certain cord. Apparently it rang the specific maid.

  Footsteps could be heard clicking near a large wooden door. The maid popped through and curtsied. “Yes sir?”

  Ralston addressed the women. “Mother has had another of her heart spells. See to it she is cared for and if she isn’t better soon, call Doc Gibson.”

  Millie curtsied again. “Yes sir.” She rushed to the widow and began fussing over her.

  Bladimir had disappeared. Ralston lead Owen and Jocelyn from the room and down the hall to the parlor where they had first attended the investor’s meeting. He rang for a servant and turned to the Latimers. Can I offer you some coffee or tea?

  Jocelyn opened her mouth but Owen spoke first. “Yes, thank you. Shall we sit down?”

  Ralston stared at Owen. He had intentionally not answered specifically. He’d let Ralston decide what to order the servant to bring.

  Sitting beside his wife, Owen crossed his leg, placing his ankle over his knee and stretched his arm behind Jocelyn’s shoulder. Ralston spoke to the servant and sent them on their way, then turned to the Latimers. “Now what is this good news you have?”

  Owen paused to allow Ralston to settle in a chair. Keeping a keen eye on Ralston, Owen stated, “My wife’s father has made an additional discovery about the diamond field. He will be arriving in two days to share this good news and we thought it appropriate to bring him to your meeting so all the investors can hear what he has to say.”

  Ralston’s eyes widened as he nodded quickly. “I see. Well, this might very well be wonderful. I look forward to hearing the good news.”

  “Yes, indeed.” Owen stood. “In the meantime, would you mind if we continue to investigate another matter… uh, relating to Philip Arnold and John Slack. After all, they are the two scoundrels who started this whole fiasco in the first place?”

  Ralston stared at Owen. “Um, who do you need to interview?”

  “Well… your servants.”

  “My servants? Whatever for?”

  “Well.” Owen suppressed a smile. “Arnold and Slack… shall we say, live beneath society’s standards and servants, generally, well… are acquainted with lower class people. Perhaps any one of them has knowledge of where Arnold or Slack might have run off to. As part of our Pinkerton assignment, finding those two and bringing them to justice is part of our task.”

  “I see.” Ralston sighed. “Well, of course. Bladimir should be able to coordinate a schedule of interviews for you.” He rose. “Now if we are finished here, I’d like to make sure my mother has everything she needs. Her feeble heart worries me sometimes.”

  “By all means. Should we just go down those stairs?” Owen pointed at the panel that the servant had come through.

  As if on cue, the panel opened, revealing there was indeed a door. And the servant brought a tray of silver and china and several fancy biscuits. Ralston must have ordered tea. He motioned for the tray to be put down on the low table in front of the Latimers. “Yes, that will be fine.” He turned to the servant. “Show the Latimers the way to Bladimir’s office downstairs.

  The servant looked confused. Apparently this request had never been made before. Then she curtsied and led the way through the hidden panel door. Owen and Jocelyn trailed behind her. As they reached the lower level, where the real work went on, Owen turned to a slamming door. He turned back to Jocelyn. “Did that… look like Mrs. Ralston rushing out?”

  Jocelyn shrugged. “The person moved too fast to be the widow.”

  Owen considered the soundness of her observation. “You’re probably right. She seems pretty delicate.”

  Jocelyn nodded.

  They sought out Bladimir and explained what they intended to do. He sat them at a rough hewn table and sent the servants to them one by one. They spent the remaining day working their way through all twenty-two people who served the Ralston household. One question still remained. Who had left the house and when would they be back so they could be interviewed? Millie was not present to interview. Was it she who had rushed out earlier?

  After an entire day of useless interviews, Owen inquired about Millie’s whereabouts and was told she was busy attending to Mrs. Ralston’s needs. She would not be available for an interview today. Disappointed, Owen and Jocelyn left the Ralstons’ home and sought out the other investors who had been at the meeting. It took the remainder of the day and most of the next to complete the interrogations.

  None of the interviews proved fruitful and when the Latimers informed them that Clarence King would be attending the next meeting with additional news about the diamond field, they exhibited a hopeful composure, but none seemed startled that the man was alive.

  Owen and Jocelyn returned to the hotel weary and beat down, but there was still work to do. They needed to discuss the interrogations to determine if either of them had any clues as to who might be guilty. After several hours of reviewing their notes and consuming an entire pot of coffee, they were nowhere closer to determining who had hired the thugs to murder Jocelyn’s father and the men who worked with him.

  The answers were now falling heavily on the appearance of Clarence King, portrayed by Agent Ransom Williams. Would that do the trick? Owen licked his lips, pondering the plan. Something had to crack this case open. Hopefully the shock of a man supposedly murdered walking into the meeting would do it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Agent Williams had arrived yesterday evening. The Latimers did not met him at the train for fear someone would see that he was not Clarence King. Once he had settled in a hotel room near their own, he came to them. They briefed him on the case well into the night. Jocelyn educated him on her father’s mannerisms and the language of a geologist for most of the morning, so that Williams could accurately portray himself as Mr. King. What he had to say wasn’t as important as just simply showing up alive. But one never knew what might be needed for the performance. One could never be too ready. After the midday meal, they retired from work. Each went to their respective hotel room to relax and freshen up for the early evening meeting.

  Jocelyn couldn’t relax. She was a bundle of nervous energy. Owen, however, stretched out his legs and laid his head back on the divan with a heavy sigh.

  “How can you be so calm?” Jocelyn paced the floor behind the divan.

  “We’ve done all we need to do, now is the time to relax.” He responded without opening his eyes.

  “I’m just… just so nervous. What if this doesn’t work? What will we do if we cannot figure out who murdered my father and our team? Do Pinkertons always solve their cases? What if this is the first one not resolved! Oh, Owen, what if it is I who has caused you to fail this mission. I don’t know what I’m doing! I’m a geologist, not a detective. What was I thinking coming here with you—”

  Owen took her into his arms and smothered her questions with a lingering kiss. She stiffened at first touch, but soon relaxed and let him kiss her. She joined his passion and kissed him too, wrapping her arms around his neck and pouring all her anxious nervousness into this kiss. Her knees buckled and he lifted her into his arms, their lips never disconnected. Continuing to kiss her, he carried her into the bedchamber.

  Gently laying her on the bed, he stood. A fervent fire burned in his eyes as he looked down on her. “Jocelyn, I want you, but…”

  She closed her eyes, breathing to calm her fervor. She too, wanted him, but should she? They were married, but not for the sake of love. It was for the sake of her reputation. Should they go ahead and allow their passion to unfurl, here and now? They would be required to remain married. Would that be so bad? She had to make a decision.

  Owen
waited at her side, his finger hooked into his necktie, prepared to pull the knot and yank it off. The decision was hers. He wouldn’t force her into anything. She wanted him with all her heart… how could this be? She originally didn’t trust him as far as she could toss him across the room. He had been a swindler. She hated swindlers. But that background was what made him such an amazing detective today. He knew the swindler’s mind and how to spot liars. None of the people they had interviewed had lied to them. None that she could tell, anyway. But what knowledge did she have to determine who was guilty? Only her gut instincts, which were generally accurate, as it turned out. But when she discussed her findings with Owens findings, they were assessing the same conclusions. No one that they had interviewed was the murderer or hired the murderers.

  But what should she do right this minute? Seal this man in marriage by following her heart. She thought maybe she did want to remain married to Owen. Looking up at his wanting eyes, she knew she really did. His touch lit her heart on fire. She enjoyed that sensation. But the question still remained… should she?

  “Owen. Do you love me?”

  He stilled, his finger remained hooked in the knot of his necktie. “I… do. Do you love me?”

  “At first, I couldn’t imagine even liking you, but… as I have spent time with you and gotten to know you, I find that… I… do… love… you.”

  He smiled. “Well, what do you want to do about that discovery?”

  The answer was buried in the crystal blue pools that she searched with darting eyes. First the left, then the right. She wanted him. Her heart longed to make him hers. Forever. And always. But the case!

  Her father’s murder. The men she knew as brothers, they deserved vengeance for those horrible men who killed them. She couldn’t allow herself such an indulgence until she found the killers. She had to be strong.

  “We… can’t!” She scrambled, crawling backward from Owen. “I can’t.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes and in her heart. “We have to find my daddy’s killer. First. Then we…” Her eyes roved over his stature. He was so handsome, his eyes were filled with passion. For her. She wanted more… but she couldn’t. “Owen. We have to solve this case. Then we can discuss our marriage.”

  He sighed. “You’re right.” He released his neck tie. “Yes, you’re right.” He sauntered out of the bedchamber and poured himself a brandy. Gulped it down in one swallow and turned back toward her. “We will finish this discussion… later.”

  “Yes.” She nodded and rose from the bed. How close she had come to finalizing the question of staying married to this amazingly handsome man. But her father’s resolution had to be first and foremost. She smoothed the front of her skirt with a solemn sigh. If things go well this evening, perhaps tonight she would be able to commit wholeheartedly to Owen as his wife.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bladimir opened the door of the Ralston estate and stood back to allow the Latimers’ entrance. Jocelyn smiled at him while Owen bowed his head slightly. “Bladimir.”

  Their interview with the butler had yielded nothing significant, as was expected. Butlers are trained to keep all the family secrets close to their chests. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been employed by the Ralstons for as long as he had. Some of the maids were nervous and fidgety, but none revealed information about hiring bandits to kill a certain geological team. In fact, that day, two days ago, had yielded little results in who might have wanted Clarence King and his team murdered before they could return to San Francisco to reveal the diamond field was a fraud.

  Still, they suspected it had to be someone among the investors and today’s ploy of having Ransom Williams show up thirty minutes after the meeting started as the very much alive Clarence King would prove to be just the shocker that would expose someone’s guilt.

  The Latimers walked arm in arm into the parlor where all the same men anticipated this additional news. The possibility that their investment might not be a hoax was palpable in the room.

  Henry Janin sat next to Widow Ralston, sipping tea. George Roberts and Asbury Harpending leaned against the fireplace, sipping whiskey. Arnold Rubery positioned himself in a corner with his meaty arms crossed over his chest. He looked poised to leap should the need arise to protect Mr. Harpening. William Lent and General Dodge stood behind the widow, both sporting a crystal glass with an amber liquid. Even Charles Tiffany was present, speaking with the banker and host, William Ralston, near the windows overlooking the dormant rose garden.

  Expectant eyes lifted when the Latimers entered the room. Mrs. Ralston fumbled, clattering her tea cup on the saucer. Her hands trembled. Jocelyn observed her, wondering if she’d had too much tonic for her weak heart. The widow leaned forward to set the chinaware down on the low table. Mr. Janin poured her more tea and leaned back to cross his legs.

  “Owen!” Ralston rushed toward the Latimers. “Welcome. Welcome. What is this good news you have for us?” He glanced around the room at hopeful faces. “May I offer you a drink?” He turned to Jocelyn. “Or tea?”

  Jocelyn grinned. “Tea would be lovely.”

  Owen patted the man’s back as he walked further in, leaving Jocelyn to find her own station in the room. “I’ll take some of your fine whiskey.”

  Ralston walked with Owen to a sideboard and poured him a drink while Janin stood, gesturing for Jocelyn to sit with him and Mrs. Ralston. When she moved to the chair next to the widow, Janin poured her a tea and handed the cup and saucer to her. “Cream… sugar?”

  “Yes, please.” She received the saucer and settled back in the chair.

  Mrs. Ralston smiled hesitantly and lifted the silver creamer toward Jocelyn, then the sugar cube bowl. Jocelyn accepted a quick pour of cream, refused the sugar, and stirred her tea, letting her gaze rove over those present. Everyone else’s attention seemed to be on Owen. She had never felt so invisible. Perhaps that was a good thing. She could watch the men’s reactions to Williams’ performance once he arrived without appearing to be watching their reactions.

  Owen sipped his whiskey and turned to the men who seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for him to say something. “My friends. I have asked Mister Clarence King to join us this evening and share with you some additional findings he has discovered.”

  A buzz of excited responses filled the room. Owen continued. “He should be here soon.”

  The buzz increased to a boisterous exchange. But still no one looked nervous or disbelieving that the actual Clarence King would walk in any moment. Owen looked around the room. Jocelyn watched him. He had an idea brewing, she could tell by the set of his jaw. What on earth was he thinking?

  He walked over to Mrs. Ralston. “How are you doing this evening, Missus Ralston?”

  She glanced up at Owen, her face pale and her lips taut. “I am pleased to know my William may be relieved of those horrible shares, once this man you say is coming lets everyone know the diamond field is a legitimate investment.”

  Owen glanced at Jocelyn. “So, you don’t care who walks through that door, as long as he announces the diamond field is real. You’ll be happy. You simply want your son to be able to sell his shares?”

  “Yes!” She squeezed her eyes closed and drew in a ragged sob. “I don’t pretend to know a lot about mineral investments based on the word of two scoundrels. Just because they came from the same county as the late President Lincoln, God rest his soul,” she crossed herself, “ they made such ludicrous claims! If my husband were still alive—”

  She clutched her chest. “This whole thing has been nothing but the devil’s dealing. It’s evil! I tell you.” Her breathing became heavy and labored. She shoved her teacup and saucer toward Janin, who fumbled to receive the china and put it on the table without spilling or breaking any of it.

  Janin looked concerned for the woman. “Are you alright, Missus Ralston?”

  “Yes.” She panted, fluttering a hand at her throat. “I… I just need my tonic.”

  Owen lifted his eyes to Willia
m Ralston. “Perhaps we should call her maid?”

  Jocelyn hid a slight smile behind her cup as she sipped the tea. Owen had intentionally provoked the widow in order to bring the maid, Millie, into the room.

  Ralston gawked at his mother’s distress and rushed to the cords, pulling the specific one that summoned Millie. How clever of Owen. They had not been able to interview the illusive Millie. Perhaps Owen intended to pull her aside after she attended the widow and ask her questions as they had done with the rest of the servants.

  The maid rushed into the room, through the door disguised as a panel. “Mistress Ralston!” Millie pulled a brown bottle from her apron pocket and administered the tonic. Mrs. Ralston leaned back against the divan and closed her eyes, still breathing heavily.

  Millie turned to the others, as if she suddenly realized the room was filled with men and Jocelyn. She turned back to the widow. “Do you want to retire to your chambers, Mistress?”

  “No. I want to hear what our guest has to say.”

  Millie’s nervous gaze swept the room once more as she nodded obedience.

  As if he had been signaled, Ransom Williams entered the room, dressed in tan clothing with a cotton neckerchief tied at his throat, and covered in dirt as if he were here straight from an excavation. The man in black tails announced, “Mister Clarence King, Sir.”

  Ralston looked up from his mother and smiled. “Welcome!”

  Jocelyn’s eyes darted around the room, looking for reactions that indicated something… anything. Millie busied herself attending to Mrs. Ralston, and the widow kept her eyes closed, her head back against the divan. Owen approached the imposter with a solid handshake. “Mr. King. Welcome. We are all anxious to hear what you have to say about this mysterious diamond field.”

  Williams smiled. “It was my friend, J. F. Berry” —Millie gasped. All eyes turned to her— “who made the discovery. Let me bring him in to tell you all the news.”