6
"I found a...a cigar butt. It was very peculiar and had a gold leaf ring around the top."
"You found it?"
"Yes." Ben said. "I found it. Beside the buggy tracks, behind the hotel."
"Did you pick it up?"
"I did. I picked it up, and put it into my pocket."
The detective in charge of their case put his hand out and waited for Ben to put the cigar in his palm.
"I don't have it anymore."
The detective's hand went back down to the desktop. "Because you lost it or...threw it out?"
"No." Ben said, his volume rising, "I placed the cigar in my pocket, and then I had to exchange coats with a gentleman on the street, and it happened so fast, I forgot about it."
"Did you remember to keep hold of your wallet?"
"Of course I remembered-"
"Then money is more important to you than justice." The detective said.
"Saving the lives of my son and daughter were more important to me." Ben bellowed.
"You should have left the evidence at the scene of the crime." The detective barked back.
"It took you and your compatriots two hours to respond to my call for help, by then it might have blown away." Ben shouted.
The detective put up a hand to stall the conversation and asked, as calmly as he could, "Do you remember who you gave your coat to?"
"Yes."
"Wonderful. What was his name?"
"I don't know his name."
The detective gave him a thin lined smile.
"It was dark, and I was in a hurry and-"
"And you remembered to empty most of your pockets, but did he remember to empty his?" The detective asked.
Ben picked up the coat and cap from the detectives desk and started searching the pockets. The detective looked at the garments like he hadn't noticed them before. "Apparently he did."
"This is the gentlemen's coat and cap?" The detective asked.
"Yes." Ben said, handing them over.
"And what does your coat and hat look like?"
"It was a dark brown cotton frock coat and vest, and bowler." Ben said.
"Not the trousers and boots?" The detective asked, earning some snickers from his compatriots.
"Do I look like I'm missing my trousers?" Ben asked, casting glares toward the snickers.
The detective looked through the clothes then called, "O'Hara!"
A red-headed, freckle-faced kid appeared in a patrolman's uniform. He doffed his cap and stood at attention before the detective.
"You know the docks pretty well?"
"I do, sir, yes sir." The boy said with a clear Irish accent.
"Take this coat and hat, find the man it belonged to. He may be wearing a brown frock coat, vest and bowler that don't fit him too well, or he may be flashing about some ready cash. What we want is a cigar butt in one of the coat pockets. On the double, lad."
O'Hara took the peacoat and watch cap and jogged out of the station.
"Will there be anything else, Mr. Cartwright?"
"Yes…" Ben said, distracted by the sudden show of aptitude. "Have you been able to reach Jamie Pauly's mother in Portland, Oregon."
"We sent a telegram that way and we're still waiting on a reply, why?"
"Well you might get more information if you write to the Veterans Hospital for Invalids. Jamie spent some time there."
"He's a veteran?"
"No...no, but he was disabled, bound to a wheelchair from early childhood."
The detective's eyes narrowed.
"How can a kid stuck in a wheelchair kidnap those two boys of yours, let alone a baby girl?"
"He had help." Ben's voice went up in pitch. "And he's a hard case, believe me. Somehow he's regained the use of his legs, to a degree. He bought tickets for myself and my family to come out to San Francisco, he sent a telegram claiming to be my son, and he's clearly been following my son Adam for sometime."
"And does your son, Adam, know this Jamie kid?"
Ben sighed. "As a matter of fact, he does. Jamie shot him."
The look Ben got made him regret having said it. "It's a long story, and if I have to, I'll tell it in front of a judge-"
"Is your boy alright?"
"This happened...over two years ago." Ben said, losing his train of thought.
"I don't care what his infirmities, a man doesn't get less than five years for attempted murder, Mr. Cartwright. There must be a wanted poster out on this kid, why didn't you tell me?"
"Th-there isn't any...wanted poster. Because we never pressed charges."
"What!?"
Ben caught the growing stares of incredulity and was aware of what this conversation was doing to his perceived sanity. "Look...like I said...it's a long story-"
"Maybe this Adam deserved to be shot."
"He did nothing to deserve being shot. He had a letter of introduction to Jamie's father, and his grandfather was a very good friend of mine. Adam had every right to be on the property and besides, Jamie shot him in the back."
"But you didn't report it?"
Ben was starting to fume. He pressed his lips together hard, raising his pointer finger. "Look, detective, I came here to get information about the crimes that have been committed against myself and my family. I once took pity on that boy and allowed him to keep his freedom, hoping it would have a positive impact on his disposition. It's hard enough admitting to myself that I made a mistake, and I won't be badgered into doing it in front of total strangers."
Ben's eyes came up and snapped to the faces around him, each man hastily finding something else to do.
"Now, my family and I plan to leave San Francisco in the morning. If you manage to scrape up any information that will help us, you can wire Sheriff Roy Coffey care of the Virginia City Jail. Thank you, sir."
Ben left the building in silence, storming out to the cabby that Joe and Elizabeth had kept entertained while Ben talked to the police. At the sight of Ben's mood Joe was quick to open the cab door. Elizabeth caught on to the heat coming off her Papa fairly quickly and she opted to stay in Joe's lap as the cab took off. Joe covered the smirk on his face while his father muttered and stewed, giving directions to the cabby to take them out to the San Francisco School of Etiquette for Young Ladies.
When they arrived at the large brick mansion, built behind two acres of rolling lawn, and sitting on a piece of land three times that big, they were met by the headmistress. She wore black and tan, no jewelry, and her hair in a simple bun. Even without decoration she was a striking woman with coal black eyes. She was tall and thin and easily older than Ben was, but there was a ferocity and rigorousness to her nature.
She introduced herself as Mrs. Hagey Walkins, and Ben introduced Joe and Elizabeth.
"Your son Adam has told me a great deal about you, as has Mrs. Vince. I'm delighted to welcome you to the school. I've arranged for a tour, some tea, and to have you observe some of our classes, followed by a short ride over the grounds. Adam suggested I should keep you entertained until he is able to collect you at dinner."
Ben smiled and nodded his thanks, doffing his hat, and then elbowing Joe to do the same. They were welcomed into the giant home where two young ladies in black dresses with white frilly collars offered to take their coats and hats. At first Ben thought them to be maids, but the more he saw, he realized that the outfit was a uniform. From girls no taller than his belt to young women nearly into adulthood, they wore the same color scheme in endless variety.
The house itself was impressive. Mrs. Walkins explained that it had once been built by one of the 49ers that had come west looking for gold. One of the first billionaires to strike it rich in the goldfields had brought his billions to San Francisco, chosen a hill overlooking the growing city, and planted his mark upon it. When the man married, then was killed in a mining accident, his wife maintained the property until Mrs. Walkins purchased it for her school.
"Mrs. Polk now lives in a cottage towards the northern edge of the property. She teaches an arts class for us, and is quite the talented painter. She also makes excellent pottery, and the girls are able to learn the aspects of commerce and capitalism, selling the pieces in town. We also teach sewing, needlepoint, cooking, decoration and upkeep of the home. All important subjects for a girl to learn, along with basic points of etiquette, decorum, class and of course the basics. Our girls learn mathematics up to and including algebra. They read, recite and memorize literature. They learn dancing, riding and child rearing."
Ben smiled around him, eyeing the delicate touches in the handsomely appointed home. "I should have let you grow your hair out and sent you here, Joseph." Ben said, under his breath. He coughed at the jab to his ribs, smiling tightly at the questioning look Mrs. Walkins gave him. A minute later Elizabeth was whispering in his ear, "Papa, pee pee."
"Speaking of learning things, we are teaching Elizabeth to eliminate as a lady should. Could you direct me to the outhouse?"
Mrs. Walkins blushed, despite how delicately Ben had tried to put the question. She pointed down the narrow hallway that ran through the middle of the house, and Ben thanked her, figuring brevity would be best for all concerned. When his father had disappeared out the door Joe was hard pressed not to burst into laughter. He stood in the hallway with his hat in his hands, smiling at Mrs. Walkins who smiled back at him, just as awkwardly.
"Please, won't you step into the parlor, Mr. Cartwright."
Joe wanted to ask her to call him by his first name, but he bit his tongue and stepped into the cool room, turning in a slow circle to admire the paintings lining the walls. The walls of the room were paneled on the top half with darkly stained wood, and painted white on the bottom half. The fireplace was as wide and well built as the one in the main room of the Ponderosa and it had a collection of photographs on the mantel. Joe went to inspect them.
"Those belong to the girls. They are encouraged to bring pictures of family members with them, and we decorate our home with the pictures as if we were all one family."
The people Joe saw in the pictures appeared to be wealthy, poised, and deathly serious. Joe wandered around the room eyeing the delicate figurines, china flatware and wall hangings. There was a profusion of needle work, framed and hung around the room that Joe figured had come from the students themselves. What continued to strike Joe was that everything matched. The wood of each piece of furniture matched the wood on the walls, the colors matched or complemented one another. Even the view out the windows matched the color scheme.
"Very impressive." Joe said, and he got a patient smile from Mrs. Walkins.
Ben returned with Elizabeth, toddling beside him. He was bent almost double letting her hold onto his finger to walk into the room. Joe watched Mrs. Walkin's face lighten into a smile that she couldn't stop. His sister did that to just about anyone.
"Shall we continue?"
They were led through the halls to three of the classrooms. Each one was decorated simply, with most of the room on the walls dedicated to displaying student work or instruction. One of the classrooms was occupied with a group of younger students, who whipped their heads around when Mrs. Walkin's opened the door. A chorus of, "Good morning, Mrs. Walkins." Rang through the room.
They were introduced to the kids and the teacher, and got their own unison greeting each before Mrs. Walkins apologized to the teacher for interrupting and shut the door. The bedrooms were on the top floor and were arranged in dormitory style. "At this time we house 24 girls. The other 12 in attendance come and go each day. We have found that those that board here tend to learn faster, and gain their independence more rapidly than those who return home. But we simply don't have the room at this time to keep all of our pupils on the property. That is part of why I am so anxious to expand and build another school."
They took tea together in the large dining room. The sandwiches and cookies were delicate, the china fine, and the service very proper and genteel. Mrs. Walkins was gracious towards Elizabeth, and they were quick to provide her with a wooden tea cup, saucer and plate.
"While we encourage even our youngest to learn to be delicate in all matters, we are not foolish enough to hand a seven or eight year old a tray of fine china. We have these practice cups for beginners."
Elizabeth had been drinking from cups for only a few weeks, but she mimicked Mrs. Walkins, her eyes darting from the older woman to Joe to get encouragement when she'd done it right.
Tea was followed by the promised ride around the property. Sarah Vince acted as their guide and their reunion was a pleasant one. Mrs. Walkins left them in Sarah's capable hands, and Joe took Elizabeth so that Ben and Sarah could talk privately.
Ben explained the events behind the note he had written and sent to the school. He described Jamie and some of the other boys that had been in the room at the tavern, asking if Sarah remembered seeing any of them hanging about herself and Adam.
"Mrs. Walkins is very strict about the presence of males of any kind on school property. Fathers and brothers might come to visit, but they must be supervised at all times, and she won't even hire males on her staff."
"That sounds a little like your mother's policies."
Sarah gave him a shy smile. "I will admit, that is part of the reason I felt so comfortable here when I began teaching. Mrs. Walkins has told me many times that it was my independence that convinced her to take me on."
"So long as that independence does not get in the way of other affairs." Ben said, giving her a fatherly look.
Sarah blushed and looked away, before she cast a glance behind her then grinned at Ben. "What do you say we finish this ride Ponderosa-style?"
Ben found her grin infectious and returned it. Sarah let out a joyous cry and kicked her horse into a gallop, leaning into the sudden change in speed. Ben joined her, the both of them streaking past Joseph on either side. Ben could see Joe stand in the saddle, watching them, green with jealousy, knowing he couldn't charge after them with Elizabeth in front of him.
As the horses picked up speed, stretching their legs out and eating up the ground effortlessly, Ben felt younger than he had in weeks. The sun was hot, the breeze was cool, the ground was the finest shade of green and the sky the blue of his daughter's eyes. His horse needed little encouragement to tear across the yard and he kept abreast of Sarah easily, letting the space between them widen.
Sarah was the first to slow her mount and Ben followed suit, turning the horses and riding back at a trot to where Joe was sitting his horse with one leg slung around the pommel. Elizabeth was bouncing in his arms, reaching her hands out and crying, "Papa, papa!"
Ben sidled his horse close to Joe's and asked, "Lizzie, do you want to ride with me?"
"Yes, yes."
Ben grinned at her. "Do you want to ride fast?"
Elizabeth squealed, bouncing harder, making Joe laugh.
Ben reached his hands out and grabbed his daughter. "You hang on tight, real tight." He told her, setting her down in front of him and wrapping his forearm and hand almost completely around her.
"Are you ready?" Ben asked, turning his horse.
"Yes, papa, yes." Elizabeth cried and Ben kicked his horse back up to a gallop. He didn't go as fast as he had gone with Sarah, but he went faster than Elizabeth had ridden before. He felt her arms tighten around his and kept her a few inches off the saddle. They went for only a few yards before Ben slowed the horse. Elizabeth was quiet as Ben turned the horse and walked the animal toward Sarah and Joe.
When Joe saw Elizabeth's face he started to laugh. "I think you broke her, Pa."
Ben blinked and turned Elizabeth, lifting her into his arms. She looked like she had as an infant, shortly before she filled her diaper. Confused, slightly uncomfortable, with the corner of a smile dimpling her cheeks.
"Did you have fun?" Ben asked, slightly concerned at the look.
Elizabeth nodded her head, still looking like she was deciding whether she would laugh or cry.
"Was that a little bit scary?" Ben asked softly.
Elizabeth nodded again, wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Ben chuckled softly. His boys had been fearless as youngin's. It was refreshing to have a child with a wise enough head on her shoulders to know when something was dangerous and be just a little afraid of it.
"You were very brave, just then, weren't you?" He asked.
He heard a muffled, "Yes, Papa."
"And I'm proud of you for being brave, but Lizzie, if you're ever afraid of something, you only have to tell me."
He wasn't sure if she understood it all, if she even knew what bravery was. But he figured there was no time like the present to start teaching her the difference between bravery and stupidity.
They returned to the house at a walk and Sarah handed the reins of their horses to a handful of young students. They gave Joe looks that Ben recognized, then took the horses off at Sarah's urging.
"I'll go in and get changed for dinner." Sarah said. Ben, Joe and Elizabeth went into the house where they waited.
Ben expected that Adam would have joined them before Sarah was ready. He was disappointed when he still hadn't arrived, and Sarah stood waiting with them. "Let's go to the school and see if he's there. He had a lot of grading to do."
Together they piled into a carriage, crossing through the city as the temperature and the sun began to fall. The sky had taken on the bright orange of sunset by the time they reached the school. Ben caught a young man leaving the building and asked if Adam was inside. When the boy only shrugged, Ben ducked into the building and went to Adam's office. He found it cleaned out, empty of papers. He found the lecture hall had also been cleaned, the models and samples removed from the table.
Ben began to feel a dread in his stomach, but he pushed it down. He headed out for the carriage and asked that they be taken to Adam's lodging. The boarding house wasn't far from the school. The husband and wife that ran the house told him that Adam had already packed his bags, and had them taken ahead to the train station.
"He paid his bill and said he had some final essays to grade before he went to meet you all for dinner."
"Essays...you said he had essays to grade?" Ben asked, remembering what Adam had said about needing to check each building. "He wouldn't have...told you...where?" The wife was already shaking her head, looking distressed at not having the answers for him.
Ben left the boarding house and stepped up into the cab. He had the cabby take them to the cattleman's club where they collected their luggage and Hoss. His biggest son looked worlds better for all the rest he'd been able to get, and he was dressed for dinner, clearly expecting that he would be picked up by someone.
"Adam came by earlier. I told him you were going to the police station before you went out to the boarding school, and he told me he had a couple more places to check before he could meet us at dinner."
"He couldn't have told us that?" Ben asked, angrily.
"He sent a runner out to the boarding school, Pa. I saw him do it." Hoss said, calmly defending his brother.
"I assume he told you where we would be having dinner then?"
Hoss nodded. "Sure enough, place right by the train station."
"Then let's finish making this cabby's day and go to the train station." Ben said, dripping with sarcasm.