It took time for me to make sense of the autopsy report. It took longer for me to realise I could not stop thinking of Wilhelmina Cassidy. If it was not one Cassidy woman who consumed my thoughts, it was another. Of the two, I far preferred my thoughts of Anna.
But it was Wilhelmina who made it impossible for me to work. It was Wilhelmina and the trust her protector had placed in me that sealed my fate. I stood from my desk, ignoring the aches and pains, grabbed my coat, and exited my office.
I did not know many people socially in Auckland City, but I did know many professionally. I found who I was looking for some twenty minutes later.
“Constable Mackey,” I said as I approached the bobby.
The young man looked up and then straightened.
“Sir,” he said, standing stiffly as if he were on parade.
I almost told him to stand at ease but forced myself to offer a nod in greeting instead.
“I have a favour to ask,” I told him.
“A favour, sir? Of me?”
“Well,” I hedged. “You have a sister, I believe?”
He looked at me aghast.
“She is very young, sir,” he said. “Too young for…” His words trailed off, and his cheeks turned ruddy.
I sighed. Word had most definitely made the rounds of the bobbies.
“I enquire for another, Constable,” I said.
“Sergeant Blackmore?” he asked. “I don’t know, sir. He’s not really Ari’s type.”
I stared at the man and then shook my head.
“I seek a companion for a young lady. An hour or two of company in a garden on Franklin Street. Every day. Timing is to be precise. Would your sister be interested?”
“Who is the young lady, if I may ask, sir?”
“Miss Wilhelmina Cassidy.”
He took a step back. “Dr Cassidy’s cousin?”
“The one and the same.”
Mackey looked around at the other officers, but no one was paying us enough attention to warrant his unease.
“I’m not sure, sir.”
“Would you ask her? I can pay.”
“Pay?”
“Employment, Mackey,” I said, getting frustrated. “I offer your sister a job.”
“Well then, sir,” he said straightening. “Why didn’t you say?”
It was a blessing in disguise that we were in a recession. I hazarded a guess that Constable Mackey was supporting his extended family with the meagre earnings he made. But of all the bobbies I knew at the Auckland Police Station, he had been the most honourable in my experience. I only hoped the same could be said of his sister.
I arranged to meet them both at Franklin Street tomorrow morning and just hoped Anna would be as easily swayed.
As I walked back to my office and the monumental task that awaited me there, I realised perhaps it was not Anna I should fear tomorrow, but Mrs Hardwick.
And then I thought of Blackie and his love Wilhelmina Cassidy.
No, perhaps it was the delicate and exceptional young woman I now found myself responsible for because guilt had a way of making you pay.
How Very True
Anna
The sandwich cake was not as nice as Mrs Hardwick’s, but the company was pleasant enough. Elizabeth Yates sat across from me in her front parlour and regaled me of her rise to the auspicious position of Onehunga Mayor.
“Should I call you ‘Your Worship’ now, Mrs Yates?” I asked.
She offered a demure smile which hid nothing of the intelligence in her eyes.
“Only if you visit me at the town hall, Dr Cassidy.”
“I shall remember to do so, then,” I said and took another bite of the sponge.
She studied me for a moment and then leaned forward and said, “I hear no charges have been laid.”
I blinked and then lowered my plate to the table between us.
“No, madam. I am innocent.”
“Would that I could invite you back to the suffrage meetings, Dr Cassidy. ’Tis not right that you have been forced to take a step back.”
“I understand,” I murmured. I did understand, even if I chaffed at society’s view of things. I had not committed the crime, had not been arrested for it, and yet my association with the murders was all that mattered in the eyes of those in a position to help our franchise.
“We are so close,” Mrs Yates said. “So close.”
“I agree,” I said, wanting to offer some solace to the woman. “The franchise must come first.”
“It must,” she said. “Oh, it must! We have fought too hard to be felled at the last hurdle.”
I did not see myself as a hurdle, but I understood her reasoning.
“You need not worry yourself, Mrs Yates,” I offered with a warm smile. “I am quite busy and trust in your leadership.”
“You are too kind, Dr Cassidy,” she said, just as a sound caught our attention out in the hallway. “Is that you, Michael?” she called out.
The door opened, and a large-framed man walked in. Broad of shoulders, thick of chest, his whiskers were trimmed precisely and his nose hooked at the end. It was not Mrs Yates’ husband, however, but his brother; the doctor who had taken a temporary position in the police surgery when Drummond was on his honeymoon. I should not have had an instant disliking of the man, but he had stepped into the shoes I so wished to be mine. Jealousy was not a familiar emotion and yet I knew it was that green-eyed monster that had me narrowing my gaze at him.
“No, Elizabeth,” Dr Yates said. “’Tis only me, I am afraid. Michael is with the horses.”
“Are they ready for the race?”
“I think we should do well this year,” he said, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his monocle. “The Auckland Cup may well be ours this time.”
“You have horses racing at Ellerslie?” I asked.
Dr Yates blinked at me and then put on his eye-glass. A smile spread across his lips.
“Dr Barclay Yates,” Mrs Yates said, “This is Dr Anna Cassidy. Dr Cassidy, this is my husband’s brother Dr Yates.”
“I am aware of who he is,” I said, a little waspishly.
Dr Yates, for his part, beamed a smile at me and clapped his hands together with far more enthusiasm than the moment warranted.
“What a remarkable thing, Dr Cassidy,” he announced. “I was only moments hence thinking of you.”
“Of me?” I enquired, nonplussed.
He nodded his head and moved to a seat to the side of where Mrs Yates and I had been sitting. He sat down, and Mrs Yates poured him a cup of tea, as I tried not to show my disquiet. I had not wanted the man to join our party.
“Oh, yes,” he enthused. “I read your recent scientific article in the Royal Society papers: The Relation of Alimentation to Some Diseases as Presented in the Antipodes. You did well to get published, but then, I noted you did not use your full name.”
No, I had been forced to submit my writings under the name Dr A.L. Cassidy. Ambiguity is ever the modern woman’s friend.
“Is your surprise because I managed to get published at all, sir,” I asked. “Or because I actually wrote something the Royal Society saw fit to place in their journal?”
“That is indeed an interesting question,” Mrs Yates said, coming to my defence as only a suffragette would.
“Oh,” Dr Yates said, looking first at me and then his sister-in-law. “You misunderstand, ladies. I am in awe of Dr Cassidy’s knowledge on the subject. In her ability to rise above society’s unreasonable restrictions for women in a professional position. Why, I only just yesterday had dinner with Mr Entrican, and he agreed with me that there should be more women in positions of power, such as yourself, dear Elizabeth.”
“James Entrican?” Mrs Yates asked. “You had dinner with the mayor of Auckland. I did not know this.”
“I don’t tell you everything I get up to, dear sister,” Yates said with a soft smile.
“I dare say I would not wish to know, Barclay,” Mrs Yates
replied.
They smiled at each other; a friendly, familial smile. It was clear that they respected one another and that they had formed a trusting relationship through their common love of Michael; both husband and brother. I wondered, briefly, if I had been too hard on Barclay Yates. He certainly was no John Drummond.
“Dr Yates,” I said, deciding that William Shakespeare was indeed correct in that ‘discretion was the better part of valour’. “I am pleased you understand the injustices of our plight.”
“I do indeed, Dr Cassidy. And am astounded every day when such skill and talent is wasted simply because of one’s sex.”
“Barclay!” Mrs Yates admonished.
“Oh, Dr Cassidy is not flustered by such talk, Elizabeth,” Yates told her. “She is a scientist after all. One of my kin.”
“Indeed,” I said, and nodded my head. “It is refreshing to speak with a gentleman who is not so constrained by today’s inequalities.”
“That would be unwise in this household,” Mrs Yates offered.
“I am ever a wise man, dear Elizabeth,” the doctor said back. He turned his attention to me again. “Do tell, Dr Cassidy. How troublesome has it been in your profession? I would like to understand exactly what it is you face on a daily basis.”
“Would that I could sum it up for you in a single sentence, Doctor,“ I said, feeling more at ease with his presence as the conversation flowed freely. “However, I fear it is an ongoing challenge we women must all face.”
“But the police station,” he said quickly. “Your father worked there, and yet you are banned.”
I blinked. How did he know that?
“What a shocking thing, Dr Cassidy,” Mrs Yates said. “What would possess them to ban a physician of your standing?”
“My sex,” I said simply, making Elizabeth grimace and Dr Yates nod his head in understanding. “I have been turned away on many occasions by the Chief Constable of the Watch with no further explanation than I am unwelcome there.”
“That is unfortunate,” Dr Yates agreed. “Such short-sightedness should not be tolerated.”
The man was singing the song, but the direction of his singing had me feeling uncomfortable again. I decided to change the subject.
“You enjoy raising horses, Dr Yates?”
“‘Breeding,’ my good lady,” he corrected, not unkindly. “We breed horses, not raise them. Thoroughbreds, in point of fact. Some of which, if I say so myself, are absolute beauties.”
“When is the next race meet?” I asked. “I should very much like to watch.”
“Wonderful, indeed,” he enthused. “It is a splendid way to spend the afternoon. We meet every third Thursday of the month. However, this Thursday is the grand race! The one all the breeders attend from all over the country. You’ll see a fine array of horses at the Auckland Cup, Dr Cassidy. A fine array.”
“I am unfamiliar with the racing breeds,” I said carefully. “I have heard of the Holsteiner and Friesian, and I do believe I read of a Percheron breed once, but I am not sure if they are racehorses.”
“The Holsteiner and Friesian are racehorses,” Mrs Yates said as Dr Yates offered, rather gruffly, “The Percheron is not a breed of horse seen at Ellerslie, madam.”
I flicked my eyes from Elizabeth to the doctor and cocked my head.
“Why ever not?” I asked him.
“It is a rather large and cumbersome horse, fit for war and work and not much else. It lacks refinement.”
“I have heard the Johnsons are experimenting with Percherons, Barclay,” Elizabeth said.
“You heard incorrectly,” he snapped.
I studied the man. His tone had changed. It was quite a striking thing to witness. I allowed my instincts to guide me and changed the topic yet again. But unable to think of a suitable conversational segue, I said, “I gather there are no women jockeys?”
Elizabeth smiled into her teacup as Dr Yates let out a raucous laugh.
“You are irrepressible, Dr Cassidy,” Yates declared. “I like it! I can see what has done you well thus far in your career. A sense of determination and righteousness. Without which, I dare say, you would not have achieved as much as you have.”
It was unclear if the gentleman was humouring me, praising me, or giving me a backhanded compliment.
I smiled sweetly and drank some tea.
“I have an excellent idea,” Dr Yates suddenly exclaimed. “I am having dinner this evening with Dr John Drummond and his new wife. I shall discuss the inexcusable treatment you have received at the hands of the Chief Constable of the Watch.”
A pit opened up inside my stomach.
“That is not necessary, sir,” I murmured.
“Nonsense! We all must do what we can to right the injustices of this world. Isn’t that so, Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, dear Barclay. You have taken the words right out of my mouth.”
“What say you, Dr Cassidy? Could I become an honorary member of the suffrage movement? I could spread the word, speak up your finer qualities, right the wrongs committed at the Auckland Police Station.”
His enthusiasm gave the otherwise steady man a sense of instability. I had not expected such on first making his acquaintance. Barclay Yates had a side to him he did not show the public. I was not sure how to take him. And the direction of the conversation had me feeling decidedly ill.
“The Chief Constable of the Watch was merely doing his job, sir,” I said. Then, thinking it was better to end this discussion once and for all, I stood up. “Mrs Yates, it has been a pleasure,” I offered, “but I really must head back. The journey from Onehunga to Franklin Street is long, and I do not wish to leave my cousin alone of an evening.”
“Of course,” she said standing. Dr Yates had already stood up when I did. “I have enjoyed your visit immensely.”
“As have I!” Yates declared. “I will have so much to regale my dinner companions this evening.”
I kept my features neutral, my stomach contents performing acrobatic acts that left me feeling weak and offered a small curtsey, then walked out of the room. Elizabeth followed, but thankfully Dr Yates did not.
“Please forgive his enthusiasm, Dr Cassidy,” she murmured to me on the front steps of the house. “He does so get carried away. I fear he has picked up some rather bemusing traits on his travels. He has been influenced by African tribesmen and New England preachers and European counts. It does make for an entertaining evening, but when one is not so familiar with Barclay’s humour, it can be quite overwhelming.”
“Think nothing of it, Mrs Yates.” I took her hand in mine and squeezed it.
“Anna,” she said, allowing me the courtesy of friendship. “I thank you for your congratulations. It means a lot coming from someone who understands our plight as intimately as you do.”
I smiled at her. “I wish you all the success in your new role, Elizabeth. You deserve it. You have worked hard.”
“And you deserve more than you have received from me, dear Anna. And from the police station!”
I offered a forced laugh, my eyes darting to the window of Elizabeth’s parlour and the flicker of a curtain that let me know Dr Yates was watching.
“Nonsense,” I said, dread settling in my stomach. “‘If you believe in it, then you fight for it’ as my dear Papa would say.”
“How very true,” she agreed and released my hand.
I walked down the path to the carriage I’d hired for the day and climbed aboard. As the driver flicked the reins and clucked his tongue at the horse, I looked back at the window Dr Yates was standing in front of. Drummond would laugh his concerns under the table, I was sure of it. I had yet to meet the police surgeon’s wife, however, but an uncharitable part of me thought she would be just like him. For how could a woman marry a man like that and not have a mean bone in her body?
I sat back in my seat and pushed all thoughts of Dr Yates’ dinner party this evening from my mind.
Instead, I concentrated on the Ellerslie Race
course and the upcoming Auckland Cup. I didn’t know who the Johnsons were, but if they had been experimenting with the Percheron breed, then they would be a good place to start. And the Ellerslie Racecourse would be the starting location.
With that settled, I allowed myself to rest on the long journey back to Franklin Street and Freemans Bay.
I may not have been able to discuss any of this with Andrew as my heart so very much desired. But I was not off the case completely yet. I had options. And if word had reached the far corners of Onehunga that I had not been charged for the crime, then my association with the murders was not yet over. Even Dr Yates was too cognizant of my place in the Auckland Police Force.
And if time was what Andrew needed in order to hunt down his wife, then time is what I would give him. With the assistance of a certain foreign police inspector.
I tapped my parasol on the roof of the carriage and instructed the driver to take me to the Grand Hotel on Princes Street.
My appearance there uninvited might be frowned upon, but I had graver things to contend with. Nothing I did now would allow me back at the suffrage meetings, so with a sense of freedom I had not experienced before, I endeavoured to track Inspector Elliott down.
We had a date to prepare for at the Ellerslie Racecourse and a Percheron breeder to hound.
I Held Him Back
Anna
The locomotive engine puffed steam onto the Newmarket platform, obscuring the excited crowd. Many people were travelling the Southern Line today to Ellerslie. The Auckland Cup was a much loved day out. I twirled my parasol above my head as I stood beside a rather well turned out Inspector Elliott, who watched the crowd with an attentive eye.
“One would think you suspect an ambush, Inspector,” I murmured.
“I take my role as your suitor to heart, Dr Cassidy.”
“Not too much to heart, I hope.”
He turned and smiled down at me. He was not an unattractive man. But he was no Andrew Kelly.
“I enjoy my position, madam,” he said.
I was not sure if he referred to his position of employment or the position he now found himself at my side. At another time, I may well have been flattered. But with the threat of Eliza May hanging over our heads, and a murderer running freely throughout the city, I could not countenance such frivolities.
Heartless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 3): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series Page 14