Phoebe sighed. “Yes, once I did. But she got so defensive, and then Joan jumped in, and it was awful. And Richard was quite angry with me. Said that I hadn’t treated his aunt with proper respect. Brought up all the things she’d done for him. But that’s one of the things he’s apologized for in his letters.”
“Taking his aunt’s side?”
“Well, not exactly. But he wrote me that he shouldn’t have gotten angry. He shared for the first time about what life had been like growing up in the same household with his father and his aunt. They fought constantly. Richard said that his aunt always blamed his father for not taking sufficient care of her sister, blamed him for her sister’s death, swore she would not let him threaten Richard’s health and well-being. According to Richard, his father was one of those men who believed that if you spared the rod you spoiled the child, and he felt Aunt Ruby coddled Richard too much. Evidently, that was his father’s reason for insisting that he start working in the family business at an early age, to get him out from under Aunt Ruby’s ‘apron strings.’”
Annie said, “Ah, and then his father died unexpectedly, and your husband was able to go to the university?”
“Yes, and Richard says he’d never have been able to do that, if it weren’t for his aunt. She was the one who convinced him to use the life insurance money from his father’s death to pay for his four years at Berkeley. She also helped out by taking in boarders during those years. So of course he feels beholden to her. I understand that.”
“And your husband’s plan to go to law school? Did his aunt support that goal as well?”
Phoebe’s face brightened, briefly. “Oh yes, that’s one of the subjects on which Aunt Ruby and I quite agree.”
The young woman then sighed and said, “However, I’m afraid she blames me for his failure to carry through with that. He was supposed to start classes the fall after he met me. But with a new wife, the new house to plan, he postponed starting law school. Then I got ill. When Aunt Ruby chided him for abandoning his dreams of becoming a lawyer, he told her that as long as I was feeling so poorly, he needed to have his time free to spend with me.”
“I see. And how did his aunt feel about that?”
“I think she came to despise what she sees as my weakness. I hope she will feel differently, now that I am better and I am encouraging him to think seriously about what he wants to do with his life. What we want to do with our lives. I think it’s time for both of us to grow up. For instance, I have no idea how much I am paying anyone but Joan, nor how much is being spent on things like food. I don’t even know what the household money that Aunt Ruby gets from Richard is spent on. That needs to change.”
Annie was impressed by the sincerity in the young woman’s voice. She hoped her husband was as sincere. Thinking about the conversation she had about Richard Truscott with Herman Stein yesterday, she said to Phoebe, “Do you think he still wants to be a lawyer? You mentioned the first time I spoke to you that he’s recently been spending time managing your investments.”
“I don’t know that the two are incompatible. I do know he wrote to me about how interested he was in some of the new investment opportunities in exotic fruits and vegetables that some farmers have started growing. I didn’t really understand much of what he wrote, but I’ve never heard him sound more enthusiastic.”
Annie said, “Actually, my brother-in-law is one of those farmers. He’s been moving some of my father-in-law’s ranch land into apricot orchards. I have done some research on this as well, so if your husband would like to talk about how best to assess investment possibilities in that area, I would be glad to speak with him.”
Phoebe said, “That would be wonderful! Don’t you see, without this time away from each other, I don’t think he ever would have shared this information with me, certainly not in front of his aunt. She has always talked about how she hates anything to do with farming, or commerce for that matter. I guess she didn’t like growing up on a farm. And for some reason she blames her brother-in-law’s job as a commercial agent for her sister’s death, since he was on the road when she died. As a result, she has her heart set on Richard having what she calls a respectable career as a lawyer.”
Annie did find the idea that Richard was beginning to talk about his investments with Phoebe a good sign, although she knew that investing in agricultural goods could be even riskier than investing in mining stocks. From what Herman Stein had shared with her, Richard Truscott had already lost money speculating on worthless mining stocks. Herman said that Richard had come to Meyers, one of his father’s partners in his father’s grain shipping company, asking for an advance on the quarterly income he got from the shares he’d inherited.
According to Meyers, Richard had sworn that he’d not used any of his wife’s money for this failed investment, and he didn’t want to dip into her funds to pay his personal debts. Annie hoped Richard Truscott was telling the truth but wondered at the timing of this request for funds and his decision not to pay the dispensary bills.
With that in mind, Annie told Phoebe that she was glad that she and her husband were achieving a better understanding of each other, but that she hoped that Phoebe would not consider going home until the police determined whether any potentially poisonous substance had been found in the porridge Joan had taken from her house.
Phoebe looked pointedly at her and said, “You think there’s a possibility that the attempt to poison me and Dr. Granger’s death are related, don’t you?”
Annie said, carefully keeping her voice even, “Let’s just say I will feel a lot more comfortable about your safety if that possibility has been ruled out.”
She was very glad to see the young woman nod in the affirmative.
Chapter 43
Thursday evening, March 9, 1882
O’Farrell Street Boardinghouse
* * *
Annie sat in the nursery rocking chair with her warm and slightly damp-around-the edges child snuggled against her shoulder. She had taken advantage of the fact that she knew that Nate wasn’t going to be home until late tonight to have an early dinner, followed by giving her daughter a bath. This was one of her favorite times of the day.
Everyone was at dinner downstairs, so she didn’t feel self-conscious about singing the old lullabies her mother had sung to her, even when the memories brought tears to her eyes and a catch to her throat. Abigail didn’t seem to mind, her own eyes slowly drooping closed. In a minute, Annie would put her down in her crib, confident she would sleep soundly until Annie woke her at eleven for her last feeding.
Miracle of miracles, Annie didn’t find herself nodding off herself, which had been her pattern ever since Abigail’s birth. Instead, her brain clicked along on all its cylinders, as she thought about the meeting she had scheduled with Dr. Brown at the dispensary tomorrow afternoon. She hated to overwhelm the poor woman, who would be grieving over the news of Dr. Granger’s death, so she wanted to be organized.
At least Annie could assure her that the financial problems were solved, at least temporarily. That should go some way to combating Mrs. Branting’s attempt to undermine the board’s confidence in the consulting doctors. On the other hand, if the police hadn’t yet solved Dr. Granger’s death by next Wednesday, when the board met, Branting could very well hint that his death was connected in some fashion to the dispensary. That could be disastrous.
There was a soft knock on the nursery door, followed by Kathleen’s entrance. She whispered that Laura was downstairs, with two friends, and she had asked if Annie could join her. Annie nodded and got up slowly, gently putting Abigail down in her crib. Her daughter kicked once, yawned, and then went still, her chest rising and falling softly. Annie could feel the smile on her face, which echoed Kathleen’s as they stood together, looking down at the sleeping child.
Annie put her arm around the young maid’s waist, basking in the warmth of their shared love for Abigail. She’d been such a fool to feel jealous of Kathleen’s ease with her daughter
, fearing that somehow if she let go of some of her responsibilities for caring for the child this would mean she didn’t love Abigail the way she should. As if love was something finite, quantifiable, accounted for in some ledger.
She gave Kathleen a hug and then left the nursery to see what her sister-in-law wanted from her.
Laura met her at the bottom of the stairs and pulled her a little of the way down the hallway where they wouldn’t be overheard by the boarders who were in the formal parlor.
She said, “Thanks for coming down. I gather Nate’s working late again. I thought you’d broken him of that habit?”
Annie rolled her eyes and said, “You’re a fine one to talk. I saw your light was still on last night at one when I went to use the bathroom. But yes, Nate is still at work. He’s finishing up a will he needs to complete so he can be sure to make it home early tomorrow. I plan on going to the dispensary in the late afternoon, with Kathleen, so I figured he could feed and entertain Abigail while Tilly handles serving the boarders’ dinner. It will be a good experience for him.”
“Oh, Annie, you know I was just teasing.”
Annie knew no such thing, but she said, “Who are these visitors I need to meet?”
“They’re friends of Iris, my forewoman at the printing press, Nellie and Lydia Granger.”
“What? Dr. Granger’s daughters? Why are they here?”
“They want to talk to you about their father’s murder. Iris told Nellie, the younger one who is the illustrator, about the investigative work you have done over the past few years. Nellie and her sister, Lydia, stopped by work just as I was finishing up my shift. They seemed so anxious to speak with you that I invited them to come home with me. That’s all right, isn’t it? I figured you’d be curious to hear what they had to say.”
Annie nodded. Laura knew her too well.
As they entered the small office, Annie hurried up to the two women who were standing next to the fireplace and said, “Good evening, I’m Laura’s sister-in-law, Annie Dawson. I am so sorry for your loss. I only met your father once, but I’ve heard such good things about him. Do be seated.”
The taller of the two women, a striking woman with jet black hair and dark blue eyes, stuck out her hand and gave Annie’s a hearty shake before sitting down on one of the two upholstered chairs grouped around the fireplace. She said, “Thank you so much, Mrs. Dawson. You are good to see us. I’m Nellie Granger, and this is my older sister, Lydia.”
Lydia Granger, a rather washed-out copy of her younger sister, smiled and gave Annie a gentler handshake before taking the other seat.
Annie said, “I know Laura hasn’t eaten yet, so I will be asking one of our maids to bring her a light repast. Could I tempt you to partake, at least have some tea?”
Nellie Granger said, “Tea would be quite appreciated. Wouldn’t it, Lydia?”
Annie pulled the cord next to the fireplace and then brought up one of the desk chairs to join the two women, while Laura brought the other.
Once everyone was seated, Annie said, “Now, how I can help you?”
Nellie said, “To be blunt, my sister and I don’t trust the police to get at the truth of our father’s murder, and we understand you have some experience in investigating such things. We would like you to help us find out who killed him and bring them to justice.”
Before Annie could respond, young Tilly knocked and came into the room.
As Laura jumped up to tell her what was wanted, Annie probed her own feelings about Miss Granger’s request. She had been about to say something about her investigating days being over now that she was a mother, how they should leave this up to the police. But she knew that wouldn’t be the truth.
When Tilly left and Laura came back to sit down, Annie said, “It’s been less than two days since the police started their investigation. These things take time. I know Sergeant Thompson, who is in charge of this case. He’s a good man.”
“That may be so, but the mayor’s gotten involved, and I fear that he is pushing the police to find a suspect quickly…too quickly. For example, they have had Father’s nurse and her son in for questioning, twice.”
“Miss Astrello, who works at the Pacific Dispensary?”
“No, Mrs. Tobin, who works in the mornings. She’s a widow who’s been with my father for nearly twenty years. The problem is that her son, Freddy, got into some trouble with the police a few years ago. One of the constables told your Sergeant Thompson that Freddy was picked up a couple of times when he was younger, stealing.”
“And is that true, do you know?” Annie asked.
“Yes, but he’s reformed. He’s had a good job working for a grocery store for years. Also, his mother says he was home with her all night. She wouldn’t lie, not even to save her son.”
Seeing Lydia move restlessly, Annie turned to her and asked, “Do you agree?”
Lydia said quietly, “Yes, I do. Mrs. Tobin is the one who came to Father when she discovered that Freddy had gotten in with bad company after his father died. Asked him for help. Father started taking an interest in the boy. That was ten years ago. Freddy has been on the straight and narrow ever since. Freddy adores…adored my father.”
Nellie added, “Besides, I don’t think that Father was killed by someone robbing the office. Miss Astrello went through the cabinet where Father kept his medicine this morning and nothing was missing. Thompson then questioned why Father didn’t have much money on him.”
Annie said, “Was that normal? I mean, after a day seeing patients, wouldn’t at least some of them have paid in cash?”
Nellie laughed. “Oh, no, poor Father could never handle money. Lydia handles all the finances. Comes into the office once a week to go over things with Mrs. Tobin, sends out bills, takes money to the bank. And the fact that he didn’t have much money in his wallet doesn’t mean a thing. He constantly gave out money to any waif he saw on his way to and from work or any patient he thought might not have the funds to buy the prescription he’d written out. Half the time when he left the office, he’d barely have enough to pay the twenty-five cents it cost to ride the horse car home.”
Lydia nodded vigorously in agreement.
Annie said, “Did you tell Sergeant Thompson this?”
Nellie said, “Yes.” She shrugged. “But, in truth, it isn’t their suspicions about Freddy that worry me the most. It’s all the questions they asked about the Pacific Dispensary.”
Annie’s heart sank. This was exactly what she had feared might happen when they told Thompson about the anonymous letters to the Chronicle.
She said, “What kinds of questions?”
“Questions about whether he had any conflicts with any members of the dispensary staff or with members of the board, disagreements over how the dispensary was being run. Thompson also asked about Father’s financial connections with the dispensary, whether or not he collected a fee from the dispensary for referring patients there. Can you imagine? That would be unethical!”
Annie could well imagine that some doctors, like Dr. Skerry, might try to make that very kind of arrangement with a medical institution. Maybe that was the reason she’d wanted to set up her own medical school and was so angry when the local doctors didn’t support her?
She said, “Did your father tell you anything about the problems between the Pacific Dispensary and the husband of one of his patients, Richard Truscott?”
Nellie said, “He didn’t say anything to me. But Thompson asked us the same question. Lydia told him that Father had mentioned that one of his patients, a Phoebe Truscott, had just returned to the dispensary and that there was some question about what had caused her symptoms.”
Annie thought this supported what Ella Blair had said about Dr. Granger not taking at all seriously the idea that Phoebe had been deliberately poisoned.
She said, “What about Charlie McFadyn and the girl Hilda? I believe it was you, Lydia, who discovered the girl near your home.”
Lydia responded quickly, “Fath
er told me about how she was doing, but I gather from Thompson that there was some man, this McFadyn, who claimed that Hilda’s child was his, and that the man had created some disturbance in the dispensary. Father hadn’t told me about this, and it was only today that my brother gave me any details.”
Nellie broke in, “That was Father for you, wanted to spare Lydia’s feelings. Was my brother correct…some woman tried to drag Hilda away from the dispensary on behalf of this McFadyn? And that’s what precipitated the poor girl’s labor?”
Laura spoke up for the first time and said, “I hadn’t heard about this. Is the girl all right?”
Annie said, “Yes, so far she and the baby are doing well.”
She turned to Nellie and Lydia and said, “Did your brother know that Hilda’s decided to name the boy Harry, in memory of your father? She sees you, Lydia, and your father as her saviors.”
Nellie said, “Oh, Lydia, what a lovely tribute. We must go see the girl and little Harry.”
Lydia, dabbing her eyes, said softly, “Father would be so pleased. Yes, we should go tomorrow.”
Nellie then turned to Annie and said, “Do you think that this Charlie McFadyn may have been the one to kill my father? Thompson didn’t indicate any particular interest in him, besides asking if we had heard of him.”
Annie said, “It is my experience that Sergeant Thompson casts his net far and wide at first, so I wouldn’t read anything specific into what he did and did not ask you. He probably asked both of you about your relationship with your father and where you were the night he was killed. But that doesn’t mean he suspects either of you.”
Nellie nodded. “Yes, although I must say the way he asked me questions made me immediately feel like I had something to hide. And my brother…” She stopped and looked over at her sister, as if for permission to continue to speak.
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