A March to Remember (21 page)

“Don't concern yourself, Miss Davish,” Daniel said with a tightness to his voice that negated his words. “As a member of Congress, I get messages from my constituents and members of the general public all the time. Some are unpleasant, but I am well used to dealing with them. What was the message?”

Don't say I didn't warn you,
I thought.

“The man said, ‘Tell Daniel that Billy McBain says hello.' ”

Daniel's face went white. He sat motionless for a moment or two before Walter, taking on the role of physician, inquired, “Daniel, are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine.”

“And Mr. McBain also said to tell you that he saw Doggie Miller hit a home run against Cleveland.”

“He did?” Was that a slight smile on his face? If so, it was gone as quickly as it came. “Good night, Miss Davish.”

“Good night, Mr. Clayworth. Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” It would most likely be the last invitation I would receive.

Me and Simeon Harper,
I thought,
the unwanted dinner guests. Maybe I could be a journalist after all.
It was an amusing thought.

Daniel nodded, but he had clearly already dismissed me and everyone around him from his mind.

“I thought we'd decided you weren't going to tell Daniel about Mr. McBain's message,” Walter said as he escorted me toward the Clayworths' Victoria, which Sarah had arranged to take me home, albeit not so early.

“I'm sorry, Walter, we did. But then he lied to me about not being at court today. I thought giving him the message might prompt him to give us some answers.”

“But we still don't know anything more, do we?”

“No, but there's something between them for certain. Billy McBain knew Daniel would react that way. He laughed after he gave me the message.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with that Lottie Fox?”

“I don't know. I'm worried it's worse than that.”

“Worse? How can it be worse?”

“Billy McBain was a member of Coxey's inner circle, along with Jasper Neely and he—”

“Oh my God, Hattie,” Walter said, interrupting me. “Are you saying you suspect Daniel might be involved in . . .” He couldn't bring himself to voice the thought out loud. “But why?”

“I don't know, Walter. I truly don't know.”

I didn't want to suspect him any more than Walter did, but why else would Daniel Clayworth become as white as a sheet at the mention of Billy McBain's name? Why did he deny being in the courtroom? If he didn't have secrets, then why?

C
HAPTER
27

“I
'm so sorry, Hattie,” Sarah said, as I placed a foot onto the carriage step. “Daniel is in a foul mood about Coxey tonight.” She had appeared in the front door suddenly and had joined Walter by the road. “You shouldn't have to leave.”

“That's all right, Sarah. I have work to get back to.” How many times had I been grateful to do something productive with my hands when my mind was upset?

Too many, of late,
I thought as I sat in the back of the Victoria.

The horse shifted its feet, and for a moment I feared the driver would encourage the horse to leave before I got a chance to say good night, but Walter grabbed the horse's bridle.

“May we be alone, Wallace?” he said to the Clayworths' driver. “Five, ten minutes should be enough.”

“Of course, Dr. Grice.” The driver clambered from his seat and strolled down the sidewalk toward Dupont Circle.

Sarah stared at Walter, nervously tapping her nails against her teeth, waiting impatiently for Wallace to be away.

“What is this, Walter? Why did you send Wallace away?”

“We have something to ask you, Sarah, and I couldn't miss this opportunity of you being alone.”

Her eyes went wide in fear. “What is it?”

“Would you tell her, Hattie?” Sarah shifted her gaze from Walter to me but never blinked. I told her about my encounter with Lottie Fox at the police station.

“Her message was meant for you, Sarah,” I said. Her cheeks were red, but her shoulders were straight. “Does she have cause to know you?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Sarah! I thought it must be a mistake. How on earth does a woman like that—?”

“Please listen, Walter.” Sarah put her hand on her brother's chest and looked at him intently. “Listen.”

“I'm listening.”

She stepped back so she could address us both.

“First, I want to thank both of you for not mentioning this in front of Daniel. He would never understand.” That I could believe, even without knowing the circumstances. “Second, I want you to listen to my whole story before you make any judgment.”

“Of course,” I said.

Walter hesitated before answering. “Very well, but you must be quick because Wallace will be back soon.”

Sarah glanced down the street toward Dupont Circle and, not seeing Wallace returning yet, glanced at the house. What was she looking for, someone watching us from a window? Daniel didn't strike me as the lurking type. He'd more likely confront her from the doorway if he had a mind to.

But then again, he had been sneaking along the wall at the trial, hoping to remain unseen, I thought. I too glanced up at the window. No one was there.

“I met Lottie, Miss Fox, through my club, the Washington Wives Club. As a group, we are attempting to try to help her and some of her ‘girls' reform and find new lives. Miss Fox approached one of our members and has been an eager partner ever since she met Carl Browne. She's become religious, in her own manner, and wants to leave her old ways behind. ‘Like Mary Magdalene,' she said. However, this part of the club's charity work is controversial, even among our members.”

“Is that what you were discussing yesterday at the meeting?” I asked.

“Yes. We have tried to keep it secret. We're afraid to even tell our husbands.”

“Daniel doesn't know?” Walter said.

“No, and I beg you not to tell him, Walter. He wouldn't understand.”

“No, he wouldn't, because I still don't understand. Why would you risk your reputation for a . . . ?”

“A woman who has made mistakes, who has not had the advantages we take for granted, but who wants to make her life better?” Again I was struck by the idea that, with but a twist of fate, I could've been a woman like that. “Besides, I'm not risking my reputation by aiding a fellow human being. But the politics of this town might not be so kind to Daniel.”

“Or Senator Smith,” I said.

“Of course,” Walter said. “Mrs. Smith is involved in this as well.”

“I'm afraid I have bad news, Sarah,” I said.

“What?”

“Senator Smith knows.”

“What? No!” Sarah glanced around her again.

“What makes you think so, Hattie?” Walter said.

“I was working late and overheard the senator and his wife arguing last night about a letter Miss Fox sent to Mildred. Was Mrs. Smith at another club meeting last night?”

“She was. It was called at the last minute. Lottie Fox was supposed to meet us, but she never showed. Oh, Lottie!” Sarah exclaimed. “How could you be so stupid?”

“It may not be as bad as you think,” Walter said. “Meriwether Smith isn't going to tell anyone. He wouldn't risk anyone knowing of his wife's involvement.”

“He did ban her from attending any more meetings of the club, though,” I said.

“And Daniel will ban me too if Meriwether tells him,” Sarah said. “And then how are we going to help these women?”

“You truly believe you're doing those women any good?” her brother asked.

“Yes. Without our help, these women are destined to be . . .” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “To be the way they are forever. It's mortifying to me, Walter. What if I were destitute in this way? Wouldn't you want someone to help me?”

“But you never would be, Sarah.”

“Then what about me?” I said quietly. Sarah gasped at the thought. Walter frowned.

“This is not a conversation we should be having,” Walter said, avoiding the question. Sarah, after her initial shock, seized the opportunity to enlighten her brother.

“She's right, though. Hattie, orphaned at a young age, with no money, no protector. I don't like to contemplate the idea any more than you do, but it is girls like our Hattie who end up this way. Don't you think they deserve a second chance?”

Walter couldn't look me in the eye while Sarah spoke, but instead stroked the white star on the horse's forehead.

“Now do you see why what we are doing is so important?” Sarah said. “Why we are willing to risk doing it behind our husbands' backs? If a person was ill, would you not want to make them better? These women are morally sick and they need to be saved.”

We stood in silence for several moments before nearby steps on the pavement alerted us to Wallace's return. Walter looked at the approaching driver, stole a brief glance at me, before meeting his sister's inquiring eyes.

“I think I understand now.”

Sarah smiled and took Walter's hand. “Thank you, dear brother. I knew you would.”

“But, Sarah, what was it that Miss Fox regrets, what did she wish she hadn't done?” I said. The madam had been clear on that point but hadn't enlightened me as to what she meant.

“All ready for me to take the lady home, Dr. Grice?” the driver said as he arrived next to the Victoria.

“Yes, thank you for your indulgence, Wallace. Good night, my love,” Walter whispered before releasing his grip on the bridle.

“Good night.” I wished I didn't have to leave. Now I'd have to wait for my answer.

The driver climbed into his seat and raised the leather whip. The horse stomped its feet a time or two before heading forward.

“Good night, Hattie!” Sarah called, waving.

Walter said something to his sister I couldn't hear, but as the carriage rode away, I caught Sarah saying, “What Lottie Fox regretted? Walter, I honestly don't know what Hattie was talking about.”

* * *

When had everything gone wrong?

A few days before, when Walter had proposed, I was the happiest woman in the world. Since then, I'd seen a woman drown, had seen a man lying dead from a penknife that had been stuck in his neck, had been beaten, questioned, and warned off by the police, had been hounded by reporters looking for answers I didn't have, had suspected my future sister-in-law of cavorting with prostitutes, and had quarreled with Sir Arthur. And after a dream, where I saw myself in a cracked mirror wearing the garish crimson, yellow, and lavender dress Annie Wilcox had drowned in, I'd barely slept. Now, though it was not yet dawn and still too dark to hike, I was in great need of fresh air. So I glanced about for any sign of reporters, and seeing none, I sat on the front steps, in a simple shirtwaist and skirt, brooding.

About what? About the dead girl's drowning, the Coxeyite's murder? With the police prohibiting me from any involvement in the investigation of their deaths, I couldn't even tell the police what I did know without risk. About the unwanted attention from the press? I could only ignore them and hope they lost interest. About Sir Arthur? Yes, that was still disconcerting. I had every intention of marrying Walter, but I couldn't imagine parting ways with Sir Arthur like this. Would Sir Arthur listen to my reasoning if we spoke again? Could I get him to understand? Could I get him to change his mind? Had Sir Arthur ever changed his mind? I grew more despondent as I reflected on the answer.

“
Pssst,
Hattie,” someone called from across the street.

My instinct was to blow out the lamp I'd brought out and set beside me. But the person had called my name. Who could it be? I held up the lamp and glanced about warily until I saw Sarah peek out from behind one of the trees in the park. She was dressed in a simple, woolen black dress. Thinking only something terrible would bring her here at this hour, I leaped to my feet and rushed across the street to her.

“Walter said you like to hike in the morning before you work, but it isn't even light out,” Sarah said when I reached her.

“What's wrong, Sarah? Why are you here? Has something happened to Walter?”

“No, no, it isn't anything like that.”

“If all is well, why are you out here in the dark?”

“I was waiting for you. Like I said, Walter told me you hike in the morning. I came early hoping to catch you before you left.”

“But why?”

“Because of this.” She held a small white piece of paper that appeared to glow in the lamplight. “It was slipped beneath my front door after you left last night. It's from Lottie Fox.”

“Like the one Mrs. Smith received?”

“I don't know. Maybe. She might have contacted Mildred first, but then Senator Smith discovered the note, so she wrote to me. I'm grateful I saw it before Daniel did.”

“What does it say?”

“Here, you can read it for yourself.” I took the note she held out to me and read,

It was signed
L. F.

“Will you go with me?”

“You're going?” I was astonished that she would even consider it.

“How can you, of all people, ask that? You've done this sort of thing many times, haven't you?”

“I—”

“Walter told me all about how you helped solve several murders, Hattie.”

“Yes, but—”

“Who knows, Lottie Fox may have something that may help the police catch Mr. Neely's killer.”

She was right. If I'd found that note slipped under the door, I would've pinned on my hat, slipped on my gloves, and headed straight for C Street. So why was I hesitating now? I was already at odds with Sir Arthur over my engagement. Was I concerned about what he would say if I went lurking about Hooker's Division in the dark in a quest to uncover yet another murderer? Was it because of what Walter might say, if he knew? What if Lieutenant Whittmeyer found out? Was it worth the risk? Was it because I'd already been involved in several murders? Had I had enough? Yes, I had. At least that was what I told myself.

“She didn't say she had something that indicated who killed Mr. Neely, just something that she no longer wants in her possession. Perhaps something belonging to the dead man.” I was hedging, and Sarah knew it.

“I feel compelled to meet her, regardless. I once told her I'd help her, and I don't intend to break my promise. So, are you coming with me or not?”

“Why me? Wouldn't Walter or Daniel be a better escort to meet her in that place?” I remembered the warnings Claude Morris had issued the day of Mrs. Cleveland's reception. I remembered what I'd seen of Hooker's Division and the Apple House in the daylight. I wasn't eager to find out what such a place was like in the dark.

“Daniel? You know he'd never let me go, let alone accompany me. No, Daniel can never find out.”

“Walter, then.”

“My brother is a wonderful man, but I don't think he'd approve of his sister going to Hooker's Division before dawn to meet a madam any more than Daniel would.”

“I don't think he'd approve of his fiancée accompanying his sister there either.”

“That's why we don't tell him.”

But I tell Walter everything,
I thought.

Seeing my hesitation, Sarah, still trying to persuade me, added, “You might help solve Mr. Neely's murder and come to the aid of a fallen woman all in one fell swoop.” She was persuasive but not enough.

“It's too dangerous, Sarah. Why not give the note to the police and let them handle it?”

You're a hypocrite, Davish
. How many times had I risked my reputation, position, and even my life, because my curiosity and sense of duty drove me to meddle in police affairs?