Deadly Proof: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery by M. Louisa Locke
Authors: M. Louisa Locke
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she’d read somewhere that the older a woman was, the harder it was for them to have a healthy pregnancy—one of the reasons for her own concerns about having children with Nate and one of the reasons she’d decided not to insist on a long engagement.
Pushing these thoughts away, Annie said, “Did Mrs. Rashers ever have any children?”
“Oh yes,” Lizzie Richmond replied. “Two sons. I think she’d completely given up. Then, unexpectedly, when she was thirty-five, she turned up pregnant. Quite a surprise. In fact, I’d the impression she was actually thinking about...well. Let’s just say that both she and her husband were very pleased with this blessed event.”
“You said two sons?”
“Yes, only fourteen months after the birth of Jason, Aaron was born. The second pregnancy was quite difficult, and to a degree I am not sure that Catherine has yet regained her full health. She is a devoted mother, but she hasn’t found caring for two infants under the age of five very easy––even with a full-time nursemaid. She certainly isn’t bored anymore.”
Annie felt a sudden sympathy for Mrs. Rashers and said, “And now...she is widowed. I can attest to how devastating the sudden death of a spouse can be, no matter how convenient or inconvenient the marriage was.”
“Yes, whether or not a marriage ends through death or divorce, it can be devastating. But, as I believe we both know, in time, what may have been felt as a curse can eventually be seen as a blessing.”
Annie again felt the acute intelligence of this woman. And a closeness. They both had weathered losses and come out stronger...and happier for it. But would that be Mrs. Rasher’s experience, as well?
As if Mrs. Richmond heard her thoughts, she said, “I believe that Catherine’s interest in the fate of the business is an excellent sign. Just yesterday, she wrote to ask me if I knew someone who could do an audit of her company books in preparation for probate. She wanted to know where the business stood before deciding what her next move should be. I was wondering if you would like me to give her your name?”
Chapter Eight
Wednesday, late afternoon, July 7, 1880
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“A double-windowed room...was fitted up with compositors' frames and type-cases.” H. Hart, Periodical , February 29, 1909
––––––––
N ate Dawson was not in the best of moods as he left his law offices, only a half a block from the Niantic Building where Rashers’ firm was located. He rather wished he’d stayed in bed this morning and skipped the whole day. When he got in last night, Mitchell, the young medical student who boarded across the hall, insisted they celebrate the news that Nate and Annie had finally set the date for their wedding, and he’d woken up late and mildly hung over.
Stopping off at his favorite coffee bar on his way to work had just compounded the bad start to the day. The service was particularly slow; as a result, Able Cranston, the firm’s most experienced criminal defense lawyer, had left the office for court before Nate got there. This forced him to turn to his Uncle Frank for advice on the petition to postpone Mrs. Sullivan’s arraignment. Not a pleasant alternative since his uncle tended to treat him as if he were still the fourteen-year-old boy who’d come to live with him while attending San Francisco’s Boys High.
Annie always advised him to ignore his uncle’s sarcastic comments, saying that he wouldn’t be handing over more and more of the firm’s business to Nate if he didn’t respect his skills as a lawyer. Nevertheless, it had been hard for him to keep his mouth shut when, after reading the petition, his uncle responded by saying, “Well, I hope that old Judge Ferral will take pity on you. Because it seems to me the only justification you’ve given for postponing the arraignment is that your client won’t tell you how she’s going to plead.”
Which, of course, was the crux
Pushing these thoughts away, Annie said, “Did Mrs. Rashers ever have any children?”
“Oh yes,” Lizzie Richmond replied. “Two sons. I think she’d completely given up. Then, unexpectedly, when she was thirty-five, she turned up pregnant. Quite a surprise. In fact, I’d the impression she was actually thinking about...well. Let’s just say that both she and her husband were very pleased with this blessed event.”
“You said two sons?”
“Yes, only fourteen months after the birth of Jason, Aaron was born. The second pregnancy was quite difficult, and to a degree I am not sure that Catherine has yet regained her full health. She is a devoted mother, but she hasn’t found caring for two infants under the age of five very easy––even with a full-time nursemaid. She certainly isn’t bored anymore.”
Annie felt a sudden sympathy for Mrs. Rashers and said, “And now...she is widowed. I can attest to how devastating the sudden death of a spouse can be, no matter how convenient or inconvenient the marriage was.”
“Yes, whether or not a marriage ends through death or divorce, it can be devastating. But, as I believe we both know, in time, what may have been felt as a curse can eventually be seen as a blessing.”
Annie again felt the acute intelligence of this woman. And a closeness. They both had weathered losses and come out stronger...and happier for it. But would that be Mrs. Rasher’s experience, as well?
As if Mrs. Richmond heard her thoughts, she said, “I believe that Catherine’s interest in the fate of the business is an excellent sign. Just yesterday, she wrote to ask me if I knew someone who could do an audit of her company books in preparation for probate. She wanted to know where the business stood before deciding what her next move should be. I was wondering if you would like me to give her your name?”
Chapter Eight
Wednesday, late afternoon, July 7, 1880
––––––––
“A double-windowed room...was fitted up with compositors' frames and type-cases.” H. Hart, Periodical , February 29, 1909
––––––––
N ate Dawson was not in the best of moods as he left his law offices, only a half a block from the Niantic Building where Rashers’ firm was located. He rather wished he’d stayed in bed this morning and skipped the whole day. When he got in last night, Mitchell, the young medical student who boarded across the hall, insisted they celebrate the news that Nate and Annie had finally set the date for their wedding, and he’d woken up late and mildly hung over.
Stopping off at his favorite coffee bar on his way to work had just compounded the bad start to the day. The service was particularly slow; as a result, Able Cranston, the firm’s most experienced criminal defense lawyer, had left the office for court before Nate got there. This forced him to turn to his Uncle Frank for advice on the petition to postpone Mrs. Sullivan’s arraignment. Not a pleasant alternative since his uncle tended to treat him as if he were still the fourteen-year-old boy who’d come to live with him while attending San Francisco’s Boys High.
Annie always advised him to ignore his uncle’s sarcastic comments, saying that he wouldn’t be handing over more and more of the firm’s business to Nate if he didn’t respect his skills as a lawyer. Nevertheless, it had been hard for him to keep his mouth shut when, after reading the petition, his uncle responded by saying, “Well, I hope that old Judge Ferral will take pity on you. Because it seems to me the only justification you’ve given for postponing the arraignment is that your client won’t tell you how she’s going to plead.”
Which, of course, was the crux
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