Maids of Misfortune: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery

by M. Louisa Locke

  Annie exclaimed, “That’s ridiculous! How could he be sure from such a distance? Jeremy’s looks are not all that distinctive. Most of the young men in this city have mustaches, and I dare say half of them have dark curly hair. Besides, how do we know we can trust that someone who works for the Cliff House is telling the truth? Maybe he was bribed to say he saw Jeremy.”

  “But by whom?” Nate shot back. “I don’t have any strong faith in the integrity of the hostlers of the Cliff House, but who would do such a thing?”

  Annie sniffed impatiently, “The real murderer. Who else? And for the same reason the real murderer must have sent the anonymous letter and planted the bank notes, the bloody club and the poison. To shift the blame on Jeremy.”

  Nate repeated, “But who? Who could do all those things?”

  “Cartier, Mrs. Voss’s maid, could. She was in the house the night Matthew was killed, she could have poisoned Matthew in order to get the money, or let in an accomplice to do the job. Her room is the only one I haven’t been able to search, so maybe she had all the missing assets the whole time. Did I tell you she passes messages to someone through the meat delivery boy, and that she was supposed to meet someone on Sunday on her afternoon off, but he didn’t show? Maybe her mysterious friend couldn’t meet her at Woodward’s Gardens because he was busy killing Nellie.”

  Annie felt her excitement rising. “Listen, I just had a thought. It was Cartier’s night out last night, and some man picked her up in a carriage. If that man was her accomplice, either he or she could have mailed the anonymous letter to the police. Then, Cartier came back to the house last night around 8:30, cancelling her night out. Maybe her accomplice gave her the evidence, forced her to plant it in Jeremy’s room. It would have been easy; her room is right across from his. Oh this makes perfect sense.”

  “Slow down Annie. Do you have any proof of this? What am I supposed to do? Tell the police that the parlor maid, who just happens to be the same person who was with me when I discovered Nellie’s body, and just happens to be the mysterious Sibyl they have been looking for, suspects the lady’s maid because she keeps her door locked and came home early from her night off. Face it Annie, Jeremy is still the most obvious suspect as her accomplice.”

  As Annie started to protest, Nate silenced her. “Please, just let me review the facts, which is what the police are going to consider, not speculation on what might have been. Matthew Voss came home Friday night, evidently with a great deal of money and his paper assets, having planned on meeting Samuels the next night to buy him out. At dinner on Saturday, he announced his plans, including his decision that Jeremy was to end his artistic career and take over the business. According to Nellie’s statement to the police, Jeremy and his father quarreled, his father threatened to cut him off if he didn’t submit, and then Jeremy left the house around seven. Nellie left the house around eight for her night out; Wong followed her around eleven, by which time the three remaining women in the house had already retired to bed. Voss was alive at this time, since he locked the door behind Wong, as was his habit. Jeremy says he returned around twelve o’clock, letting himself in with his own key, and that his father’s study lights were on, but that he didn’t go in to see him, he just went up to bed.

  “Sometime between eleven and the next morning, someone poured Voss a shot of whiskey laced with cyanide. He was found dead the next morning by his wife, and since the doors and windows were all still locked, the assumption must be that either one of the three women in the house or Jeremy killed him. And do you honestly think that any jury would believe that his wife, or sister, or the lady’s maid got up, came down stairs, and convinced Matthew Voss to have a drink? I don’t think so. But a jury could certainly be led to believe that Jeremy might have spent the time between seven and twelve o’clock working himself up into a rage and getting the cyanide. Then, when he got home, he could have pretended to make up with his father, offered to have a night cap with him, poisoned him, and then carefully set up the scene for a suicide by taking the money and other assets and hiding them.”

  Annie remained absolutely still during Nate’s recital, but now she whispered urgently, “Do you believe this is what really happened?”

  Nate shrugged, ramming his fists once more into his pockets. “Annie, I just don’t know. Contrary to your belief, I don’t want it to be him. He’s my client! And, if he is guilty it will destroy Mrs. Voss. But I can’t ignore the reality that Jeremy had a reason to kill Voss and certainly the best opportunity.”

  Annie’s stomach lurched, and she suddenly feared she might become ill. She walked shakily over to a garden bench, sat down, and hunched over, pressing her hands to her cheeks, taking in deep breaths, trying to quiet her nausea.

  “Annie, are you all right?” Nate sat down beside her on the bench.

  “It’s all my fault. I should have left well enough alone. I just know Jeremy didn’t kill his father, but you’ve just shown me that he could be found guilty anyway. If I had just let it alone, you, the police, everyone might have been willing to let it rest as suicide. I thought I was helping. Trying to clear Matthew’s good name. I wanted to do something to preserve my memory of him as a kind and wonderful friend. But I haven’t even done that. The longer I live in this house, the more I can see that Matthew himself was to blame for much of the unhappiness I see here. I mean, there is Miss Nancy, a bitter old woman who lived her entire life for her brother, and I can’t see that Matthew cared two figs for her. And he let her turn her bitterness on his wife. Maybe Amelia Voss acts like such a foolish and naïve woman because he insisted she be that way. Who am I to despise a woman for giving into an autocratic man? I was no better at standing up for myself to my husband. And Jeremy—well, it would have been a crime to put an end to the career of someone with the artistic talent that Jeremy has, just to satisfy some vain idea of a son carrying on the business.”

  Annie had begun to rock back and forth in her despair, her last words coming out as a kind of lament, “I should have left Matthew to rest in peace. But now Nellie’s dead, Matthew’s son might be hung, the Voss family will be destroyed, and there will be no peace. It’s all my fault.”

  Slowly through her misery, Annie came to realize that she was being rocked in Nate’s arms, her face pressed up against his chest, where she could feel the warmth of his skin and hear the beat of his heart through the fine linen of his shirt. One of his arms was tightly wrapped around her waist, and with his other hand he was gently stroking her hair. All the while he was murmuring to her.

  “Annie, hush now, hush. You’re not to blame. It’s not your fault. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry, please don’t cry. It will be all right, hush now.”

  Annie pulled away and sat up straight, groping for her handkerchief. She blew her nose, unable to look him in the face. Nate, while he did loosen his hold on her, kept an arm around her, and now pulled her chin up at him so she had to look him in the eyes.

  “Annie, you must believe me when I say you are not responsible for any of this. You know as well as I do that the police were already suspicious of Voss’s death before I went to see them, and I’ve learned that they had already sent out word to find Nellie for further questioning. From the beginning they suspected Jeremy, so you had nothing to do with that. What you’ve been doing at this house might have been misguided, but it certainly hasn’t made anything worse. And perhaps I’ll be able to use some of what you’ve learned about Cartier to at least mount an effective defense for Jeremy.

  “And you mustn’t be so upset about what you’ve learned about Mr. Voss. So he wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes. But they were not heinous crimes. He behaved the way men are supposed to. He wanted to take care of his wife, he wanted to make sure his son grew up to be able to support his own wife. You shouldn’t be so hard on him. Ninety percent of the men in this city act the way he did, and none of them have been murdered. He didn’t deserve that. And he would be grateful that he had a loyal friend like you who cares enough to take
personal risks to find his murderer.”

  Annie gave him a quick hug, whispering, “Thank you.”

  She felt his arms tighten around her, and she felt the warmth of his breath travel slowly down her forehead, her eyes, her mouth….

  The neighbor’s dog again barked, and Nate broke away from her and stood up, peering around. Silence reasserted itself, providing a counterpoint to the thump of Annie’s heart. She waited, hoping that he would sit back down beside her. Instead, he turned and reached his hand down to her in an offer to help her to her feet, saying as he did, “Come, let me escort you home now. You have the back door key, don’t you? Well, lock up and take it with you. First thing in the morning Kathleen can bring the key back and get your things. You can write a note, make some excuses. You won’t have to see anyone in the house. It will be all right.”

  Annie snatched her hand away as she stood up. “What do you mean? I can’t leave now. I promised Mrs. Voss I would stay. And it’s more important than ever to see what I can learn to help save Jeremy.”

  Nate grabbed Annie suddenly by the arms, startling a gasp from her.

  “No!” Nate was almost shouting, which prompted another series of barks from the neighbor’s dog. Then he lowered his voice, although it was no less intense. “Your days as maid are over. Leave this to me. I want you out of this house now; it’s too dangerous. If Jeremy isn’t the murderer, then the murderer, whoever he is, could be in that house right now. It’s just not safe for you to stay. One servant in this house has already died. I will not permit the same thing to happen to you. I should never have let you stay in the first place. It’s not right. You shouldn’t be exposed to this sort of danger.”

  Nate’s vehemence was so unexpected that Annie was at first speechless. Then as she pulled away from him she said, “Nate Dawson, get your hands off of me! You have used that tone of voice on me once too often. I’m not your sister, thank goodness, so you can’t boss me around. You have no authority over me whatsoever. And I don’t take kindly to threats.”

  Nate instantly stepped back, and she rubbed her arms where he had held her. He reached towards her and then backed away again, saying, “Oh, Annie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please forgive me. I meant no offense. But don’t you see, I’m worried about you. What if I promise that I’ll look into your suspicions about Cartier first thing tomorrow? Maybe you are right and she and some man were in it together. You must realize you have done what you can here. It’s time for you to leave the investigation to others.”

  “You mean leave it to some man, don’t you.” Annie snapped back. “But you’re wrong; there are things I can do to help here, even though they may not seem important to you. I have to be there in the morning to let Wong in and to get the kitchen oven going. You don’t expect Mrs. Voss to do those things? And she isn’t going to be able to get a new servant in a day, not one they can trust, not with the publicity that Jeremy’s arrest will generate. Wong can’t do everything himself and you wouldn’t want me to leave Mrs. Voss with only Cartier, who might be a murderer, to serve her. Anyway, if it is dangerous, I can’t just expect some young innocent girl to take my place. I have got to stay, at least for tonight. You see that don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t see it,” Nate said flatly. “But it’s useless to argue with you. You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met, or ever hope to meet” He took a deep breath, and said, “All right, you are probably safe as long as Jeremy is with the police, safe from Jeremy if he is the killer, and if he isn’t, the real murderer isn’t going to do anything while the police have him in custody. But, I want you to promise that you will leave by tomorrow evening, and I want you to promise, no snooping around in the meanwhile.”

  Annie bristled, muttering, “No promises.” There was a charged moment of silence; then she said, “Look, I have a responsibility here, and being female doesn’t release me from it. Please try to understand. Since I am at least partly responsible for the danger Jeremy is facing, no matter what you say, it is only right that I should take some risks to try and help him. I only wish I could do more. I know you probably disagree, but I happen to believe that what’s right for a man to do is right for a woman. If you feel that makes me less of a woman, I’m sorry.”

  She whispered, more to herself than to Nate, “I can’t change, not for you, or for anybody,” and, before Nate could reply, she turned and fled back down the path to the kitchen door, half-afraid he would attempt to stop her and half-afraid he wouldn’t. She’d left the kitchen door open slightly, so it took but a moment to slip inside and bolt it with the key. Then she stood leaning against the door, the silence of the night pooling around her.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Thursday morning, August 16, 1879

  Wong was late. It was nearly six in the morning and Annie had already removed and sifted the cinders from the grate and rekindled the fire in the kitchen stove. Wong was never late. She should be opening up curtains upstairs by now, then setting and starting the fire in the dining room, cleaning out the fireplace in the front parlor and making sure that room was dusted and ready to be used. But she didn’t dare leave the kitchen since it was her duty to let him in. Instead she sat at the kitchen table, barely able to stay awake, trying to think of what to do. By now Wong would have been making bread. Annie supposed she could try to get it started, but her bread-making attempts at home, even under Beatrice’s tutelage, generally ended in disaster. Kathleen had suggested last time that they should use the dense brick-like loaf of rye she made as a doorstop. Heavens, how I want to be home!

  And she was so tired. After Nate had left and she retired to her attic room, she had lain for hours, going over what he had told her, looking for proof that Cartier or some mysterious stranger was responsible for the murders. At least she could remove Miss Nancy or Mrs. Voss from the list of potential suspects. While they might have had a hand in killing Nellie, or even Matthew, in order to protect Jeremy, they would never have participated in an attempt to wrongly accuse him of these murders.

  A muffled shout from the back yard snapped Annie from her reverie; her heart pounding, she grabbed the lamp beside her, took the key from its hook and unlocked the back door. With the door open she could clearly hear the neighbor’s dog barking and what sounded like several voices raised in anger. She ran up the back steps and could barely make out two men at the back gate who were struggling to hold a third man. Without thinking she raised the lamp higher and ran through the back yard, shouting, “You there. What’s going on?”

  When she realized that the man who was being held was Wong, she stopped short and yelled, “Let him go. He belongs here. If you don’t let him go, I’ll have the police on you.”

  One of the men turned towards her and said something that was drowned out by the ever more frantic barks of the neighbor’s dog, but he didn’t release his hold on Wong. Instead he pushed Wong to his knees, while yanking on the old man’s long braided queue. Fearless with rage, Annie snatched up a rake that was leaning up against the garden fence and one-handedly began to wail at the back of the man holding Wong. With each swing of the rake she grunted out, “Let him go, let him go.”

  Simultaneously there was the sharp crack of a window shade being drawn up and a man’s voice bawled out “King! Shut up you worthless hound!” and the dog’s barking ceased. The man who’s back Annie had been assaulting dropped his hold on Wong and ran through the back gate. Once he put the fence between himself and Annie, he shouted at the other man, saying, “Ned, let him go. She’ll have the whole neighborhood awake. It's not worth it, the old Chinaman’s not going to talk anyway.”

  The other man gave a half-hearted kick at Wong, who was struggling to his feet, and then removed himself from the back yard, joining his friend behind the fence. His courage apparently bucked up by the sight of Annie dropping the rake in order to help Wong to his feet, the first man leaned over the fence and said, “Hey missy. No need to get all in a bother. We just wanted to talk to the old man,
but he didn’t seem to understand us, guess his English isn’t all that good. We’re just looking for a story, got a deadline for the afternoon editions. Damned Chronicle got a jump on us. Seems like the police think that old man Voss was killed by his son. So tell us how’s his mother taking the news? Did she faint or something? Hysterics? Why’d ya think he did it? For the money? Did he have help? Just tell us something and you’ll get your name in the papers. We could make it worth your while. Now come on, don’t go, we’re not going away, and if you don’t talk to us, someone else will!”

  This last was shouted at Annie and Wong’s retreating backs as they stumbled together down the three steps and into the kitchen; Annie slammed the door shut and locked it behind them.

  Putting the lamp down, Annie began to brush the dirt that clung to Wong’s jacket, saying, "Wong, are you all right? What happened? What was that man shouting about? Has Jeremy been arrested?”

  Wong, who had been completely silent up until this moment, said quietly, albeit a little breathlessly, “Please Miss, give me a moment.”

  He walked over to the stove and drew out water from the reservoir into a pitcher that was sitting on the stovetop. Then he went to the washstand in the corner and added fresh hot water to the basin sitting there. He bent and brushed dirt from the knees of his trousers, took off his coat and shook it, hanging it on the peg beside the washstand, and he began methodically to wash his hands and face. After he was done, he carefully folded the towel and hung it over the rod on the side of the stand and flipped his queue neatly over his shoulder. Only then did he turn and come quietly over to Annie where she still stood before the door. He placed his two hands together, raised them to his forehead, and bowed slowly to her, saying, “Thank you.”

  Embarrassed, Annie motioned dismissively and began to ask him again to tell her exactly what happened. Wong said, “Miss Lizzie, I am afraid that the newspapers have become interested in this family’s misfortunes. Those two men were reporters and they were lying in wait for me at the end of the alley. They took exception to my unwillingness to answer their questions. I regret that you became involved.”