Chapter 3

Saturday 6/29/1901

William was used to waking at 6:00 am every morning and despite not getting to sleep until three, he was up at his accustomed hour. He had slept soundly, for once not dreaming of Julia, and the sun was already shining. He found the bathroom, ran a hot bath and gave himself a shave, locking the door so he could have privacy. That was a good thing, because Ettie was soon at the door trying to get in.

"William, it's too early," she complained through the door.

He opened it to find Ettie in a bright satin wrapper, looking sleepy. "Ettie, good morning." He smiled at her, refusing to be embarrassed by her dishabille, but his charm seemed lost on her this early in her day. He cleared his throat. "Right then. If I am to figure this out I need to get ready. Just point me to an area I can work on Mr Lenox's findings."

Ettie surveyed William, wearing a collarless shirt that had been Peter's. "You are Mr Peter Lenox now, so we both need to get used to that. And you are going to have to get dressed better for the part. So, Peter, what kind of space do you need?" She accompanied him to the dressing room to help him locate what he needed to examine.

"All I need is some place quiet, with good light where I will not be disturbed." He hefted the box of files. "I won't have to get into the whole costume until I leave the house, correct? No one is awake, there are no customers until, what 4:00 pm?"

"Upstairs, above my room is some currently unused space. You are welcome to that. Those boxes over there were also Peter's, and you can look in the desk. He did his work on it. He also has things in the Reading Room downstairs, so look there also." Ettie checked the time. "I suppose you should investigate his closet and his clothes, but it looks like you already did that. When you're done you can find yourself some breakfast too—the kitchen is in the back. Mr Jackson and Mr Healy have separate rooms over the carriage house across the alley in back, but no one stirs here until at least eleven. I will see you then." She turned to go but he stopped her.

"Ettie, you knew Mr Lenox, as did Mr Jackson and Mr Healy. Don't you have any idea what he was up to or what he found? It would help to know where to start."

"He did not discuss any of it with us, only with Terry. Peter would ask for material and supplies, money, send and receive packages, packets from the train. He took trips, went about town, received visitors in the Reading Room…honestly he was cryptic. I am not sure he trusted me. " She gave him a gesture as if to convey, 'Imagine that? He did not trust me.'

"I am going to want to interview Mr Jackson and Mr Healy later. Are there any other instructions from Meyers?"

"Yes. To hurry. He will get in touch with you."

William bade her sweet dreams and went about carting his luggage, equipment and the boxes upstairs. The "Reading Room" on the first floor was just that—and he noted with appreciation the quality and quantity of books, mostly literature, but some scientific works also, including the most recent Scientific American and National Geographic he had not yet read. There was a guest register and papers in a desk; he took those too. The kitchen yielded coffee, which he left alone, and biscuits which came upstairs with him. In the attic space, he set the table up as a desk, and started looking at each piece of information, searching for the conspiracy and hoping he was up to the job.

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Saturday, at precisely 8:00 am sharp, Julia's train stopped in Buffalo and disembarkation commenced. The day was quite beautiful, and while sunny, was several degrees cooler than Toronto. Julia knew that was a function of the breeze off Lake Erie, and that the same weather patterns also occasionally produced deep winter snows. Those she did not miss. Around her were scores of people from north of the border who had the same idea as she did and planned to spend the whole day at the Exhibition. Many of them would reverse their passage and go back on the train late tonight, or later on Sunday.

She grabbed her hat box and bag and wound her way off the train, searching for Ruby. At

5' 9", and two inches taller with her walking-shoe heels, Julia towered over many of the other passengers on the platform, not even counting her straw hat. Her sister was the size of an average woman at 5' 3" so it was possible Ruby was there but lost behind the crowd. She gave the porter her luggage tickets, got her other possessions and was about to ask directions to the street when she spotted Ruby rushing towards her.

"Jules! Jules! Over here!" Ruby nearly collided with a steamer trunk in her haste, plume on her hat bobbing. She reached Julia and launched herself into a big hug. "I am so glad you came. Have you had breakfast? No? Well, come with me. I have a carriage waiting." Ruby pulled her sister along, not even waiting for an answer, chattering on about the plans she made for the two of them.

Julia slept well on the train and was refreshed, but was feeling daunted already by Ruby's list. "Ruby, slow down. I just got here!" Ruby did so, turning her bright blue eyes and laughing face on her sister. "Don't be a stick in the mud already, Jules. There is so much to see and do and this is the best weather we have had—not too hot and a nice breeze. You should have seen the rain and mud before, then the heat!" They made their way to the street and a carriage driver detached himself from his rig, pulled down the step and opened the door, assisting both ladies into the open seating. "Thank you, Francis. This is my sister, Dr Julia Ogden."

He flashed a smile, tipped his hat and then worked the luggage onto the back of the carriage. "Where to, Miss Ruby?"

"Back to the house I think, but we will be leaving again soon enough." Ruby reached over and patted Julia's hand. "You are going to see so many surprising things while you are here, I cannot wait to show you."

Once out of the congestion close to the station, Ruby started a lively narration of her surroundings. Julia notice some things were indeed different than when she lived here just a couple years ago. For one thing, the Exhibition brought in additional crowds of people to what was a cosmopolitan destination and already the tenth-largest city in the States. More people would pass through Buffalo immigrating to the west than came through Ellis Island. There were new hotels and restaurants, and the overall sense was that the place was rich and bursting with energy. She was retracing some memories in her mind when Ruby's dialogue brought her back. "….And so I got a firsthand story from the policemen down on Canal Street by following them for five nights as they did their rounds, dressed as I was as a cart-lad…."

"Ruby! You went where and did what?" Julia was appalled. The canal district, where the Erie Canal joined the Great Lakes in Buffalo, was probably the most notorious and dangerous place possible for anyone to be in, let alone a small, young woman. It literally had a world-wide reputation among seamen as a cesspool of evil and vice.

"Jules, it was perfectly safe. I was with the police the whole time and I got three published articles out of it!" She decided she would not tell her sister the whole story if she was going react so strongly to just mentioning being there in the "Infected District." She certainly would not admit a cart-lad helped drag the daily quota of corpses from the canal-side district to the morgue. How else was I going to get a firsthand account? Really, Ruby thought, Julia is still so sheltered after all that time working in the coroner's office and the Asylum.

Julia scowled briefly. Honestly, she was astonished at her sister. Ruby is still so naïve and reckless, one would think she'd have learned better by now, considering all the travel she has done. Julia was reconsidering her impulse to come. And we are already disagreeing, in record time….

They were saved from further discussion by arriving at their destination, an imposing brick home, nestled prominently on a corner lot with a huge slate mansard roof, and carriage house in the rear. Ruby's hostess greeted them from the top of the steps where she was enjoying the morning air.

Julia thought it would have been preferable to be swallowed up by a crater, because she recognized her hostess.

Her thoughts tumbled in her mind. What was I thinking? How could I be so stupid!? Why did I not ask Ruby who the hostess would be? Miss Love, of all people! Julia felt her face flush and she could only look down to avoid the other woman's eyes. She and I were acquainted and she will certainly know me and be aware of the particulars of Darcy's death and….

"Dr Ogden, welcome to my home. We are so glad Ruby was able to invite you down." Miss Maria Maltby Love, one of the most venerable and important citizens in the whole county, white-haired, patrician and vigorous at about age 60, was smiling and waving her up the steps onto the landing. "Please come have some breakfast before your sister drags you to the Exhibition." Miss Love was clearly signaling that she was going to be held in positive esteem, at least in this household. Many surprises indeed!

Julia had faced down many difficult situations in her tenure as coroner, and could quell her own anxiety if she needed to. "Miss Love, thank you so much for your hospitality. I hope my presence here will not discommode you." Julia found her voice to be steady after all, and shook her hand in greeting, hoping to convey the many meanings she intended.

The older woman understood perfectly. "Nonsense. Your work with children and the poor while you were here in Buffalo is well-regarded, and Ruby is so refreshing I could never deny her a visit with her sister. What happened to Dr Garland, and to you, was a tragedy and we never need to revisit it. Please consider my home as yours while you are in the city."

Julia experienced gratitude to her and to Ruby for finding her a haven. Until this moment she was not aware of how much trepidation she carried with her across the border. Miss Love's imprimatur should go some way in keeping pointed comments from at least being spoken to my face, Julia hoped.Ruby gave her hand a squeeze and the three of them went in and sat down to toast and tea.

Over breakfast, Ruby filled Julia in on her most recent news and magazine stories. Several papers ran daily or weekly updates on the Exhibition for which Ruby provided content. Ruby also did interviews and profiles of some of the important dignitaries and attendees for magazines. Those carried her own name as the byline—the more sensational ones were filed under various pseudonyms.

"Ruby's real work here has been investigating the conditions under which working men and women have to survive," Miss Love added. "She is also going to write a story on the Fitch Crèche, which is a day-nursery for children I founded, to keep the little ones safe and healthy while their mothers earn a living. I hope the story will inspire other cities to do the same." She consulted the watch pinned to her severely cut blue dress. "If you will excuse me ladies, I have a meeting I must prepare for. I wish you good day and Dr Ogden, do enjoy the Pan American."

Afterwards, Ruby brought her sister up to a large, bright room on the second floor, where Julia's belongings had already been delivered. "We should leave soon." Ruby said as she eyed her sister's outfit. "It can get very hot, you know. Are you sure you want to wear that?"

Julia frowned. "What is wrong with this dress?" It was one of her favorite summer walking outfits, a light green print with a shorter, ruffled hem.

"It is not the dress, it is the corset and the rest of the undergarments."

"Ruby! I will not go about immodestly dressed." Well, except for that time at the beach, but Ruby does not need to know that… "And besides, the dress will not fit properly." Julia looked closely at Ruby's own rose-colored suit however, and thought it looked very stylish and comfortable.

"Here. At least try these. They are a new idea and quite agreeable. I am wearing a pair myself."

Julia accepted the garment. It was a set of bloomers but with much less fabric and did not come all the way down to the knees. They were silk, loose, very light weight and still covered what need covering. Feeling bold, Julia needed no further persuasion and decided Ruby had a point. They feel rather freeing actually, she thought, when she got them on.

Francis had the carriage waiting when the sisters exited the house for a ride to the Exhibition. "We can go in the Elmwood Gate as it is close to the Women's Building. I want you to meet up one of my colleagues. We can then head straight for the "Lion" incubators if you like, near the Midway and the Mall." Ruby pointed to the map she had in her lap. "You don't mind the walking, do you?"

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William completed his second round of methodically going through all the written material from Peter Lenox. The biscuits were long gone and he was thirsty. Either I am missing something or this does not all add up. The notes appeared to be random, the letters pedestrian business, the "evidence" not probative. He found a large set of ticket stubs for the Pan Am and set those aside until he could find a calendar and Exhibition catalogue to interpret them better.

He looked for codes, clues buried in other innocuous correspondence, pin holes in the maps, invisible writing and impressions from other correspondence, and shuffled the names and dates until he was more confused than ever, but nothing explanatory emerged. His portable microscope produced nothing. The smaller alternative light source device proved inconclusive in uncovering anything of value. The correspondence in French seemed to be a small newspaper article about anarchists from a French Daily and letters Mr Lenox was exchanging with a lover, which while explicit in content, did not reveal anything between the lines, so to speak. Nothing leaped out at him from the Reading Room guest register, but he would have to ask Ettie or Meyers to have a look at the names, if they meant anything to either of them. He also wanted to know more about the diplomatic pouches and that "Dominion of Canada" train he got shanghaied on.

Mr Lenox's bank account was healthy, but William assumed it was a fund for the investigation, and would have to ask Meyers more about that angle. Normally he would look for finger marks, but as he had no exemplars for Mr Lenox it seemed to be unhelpful. He even went back and smelled each piece of paper, but discerned nothing except a faint smell of tobacco. He arranged it all in piles, and decided to put notations on the wall to help him organize it better. Even that did not help. There was no logic and no patterns he could find.

For a spy, Peter Lenox was sloppy and unimaginative, William concluded. What was even more disturbing were the copies of correspondence he had sent to Terrance Meyers, detailing his findings and the supposed various suspicions and threats to the Exhibition he collected over he months, but William could find no evidence amongst the papers that those findings existed at all. He wondered if Meyers had already riffled through the material.

There were six photographs however, which he found intriguing, wedged between the side-folds of a box. Four were of the Pan American from an elevation, and William decided to bring them with him when he went there today to see if he could tell from where they were taken. Two others appeared to be of a generator or engine of some kind, but it was impossible to tell where they were located from the details in the picture. He supposed he should take them too. They could be souvenirs, but it was better to confirm it.

He straightened his neck and back, checked Lenox's watch and decided he had enough time to look into the other physical evidence he had gathered. He went through Lenox's wallet and examined his shoes. He tried to make sense of some bits of wire and tools the man had. Finding a jeweler's loupe, he took it back over to the papers and used that to examine more details. Nothing. He looked at the notations on the wall. This is ridiculous, he grimaced.He got up and stretched, decided he needed to interview Mr Jackson and Mr Healy next and get ready. This is going nowhere. I am going to have to talk with Meyers soon, because I am coming to believe there is something else going on here.