A-Splendid-Ruin(85)

I remembered the drawing of the building framed on Ellis’s wall, my own comment that it seemed a prison.

Dante went on quietly. “I didn’t mean to destroy him. That wasn’t my intention. But that’s what he thought.”

“What happened?”

“He wrote a letter to the paper attacking me. Older told me to apologize. I did but not in the way Farge wanted. I think I said something like, ‘People can of course discern the truth for themselves.’”

I couldn’t help smiling.

“Yes, you see? The damage was done. He lost commissions. I don’t know how many. Farge wasn’t my main focus, then or now. I saw him at Coppa’s, he was drinking and depressed and nasty; if I knew he was there I tried to stay away. Edith—I think it was Edith—told me to make amends because he was making everyone miserable and she was afraid he might try to hurt himself.”

I thought of that day at the baths, when I’d first met him, his agitation and desperation. Now I understood. He had lost his way, and he was afraid. I had trusted my uncle and Goldie when they said he was talented and important. That he was coasting on his reputation, I hadn’t considered, even when I saw his work. Nor did it occur to me to suspect what was so obviously true in retrospect: Goldie had seen that my work could save Ellis, and she had managed to make certain it would. Her “These are perfect!” when she’d first looked at my drawings, the compliment I’d taken it for, so ominous it seemed now, and then the way Ellis began to appear. His return from Del Monte that Linette had commented upon at the Cliff House, his weird presence at Sutro’s, so out of place. How had I not seen?

“I didn’t understand at first.” Dante sighed. “But then I did. That day—do you remember?—when everyone was drawing on the walls? I saw it then. Your talent and what Farge wanted from you. It explained everything, because otherwise you weren’t his type.”

“No. My cousin is, however.”

Dante looked sympathetic. “They married while you were away.”

That surprised me, though it explained his presence in the Nob Hill relief camp. “I didn’t know. Well, they deserve each other. You were right when you said I was easily manipulated. I had no idea they had any relationship at all.”

“No one did. Well, some of us did. It had been going on for some months. I don’t know where they met—maybe China Joe’s, but you could see them circling one another at events if you watched them. I wanted to see how it would develop before I wrote about it. It must be true love.”

“She can control him,” I said. “Better than she could Stephen Oelrichs.”

“Oelrichs. Now that was interesting too.”

I took a deep breath. “Goldie has ambitions.”

“I guess it’s up to us to make sure they’re foiled. And Farge’s too. When do I see China Joe?”

“As soon as possible. Shin will take you to him. He’s expecting you. You look nervous. He’s actually very reasonable. If I can beard him in his den, you certainly can.”

Dante laughed. “I’m not so pleasing as you. Nor as persuasive.”

I was not expecting the compliment, and it flustered me. “If I were that persuasive, I would have been able to convince everyone that I didn’t kill my aunt.”

His smile faded. “You’re playing a rigged game, May. Your uncle has the police in his pocket. There was nothing you could have done. Not then. You didn’t have enough information. But now . . .”

“Now what?”

“Now, you do.”

“Their secrets, you mean.”

He shook his head. “You’ve always had those. But no one’s going to listen to May Kimble. Especially when she’s a lunatic poor relation.”

“That hasn’t changed.”

“Oh, but it has. You’re not May Kimble, are you? Or at least, not only that.” When I frowned, he continued, “Your inheritance. Your father. The telegraph is up again. It shouldn’t be difficult to discover what rich man died in New York City—when did your father die?”

“Mama made it sound recent. Just before she died, I think.”

Dante took out his notebook and scrawled something. “You said his name was Charles, right? I’ll send a telegram to a friend of mine at the New York World. He’ll check the obits. If your father is as important as your mother said he was, he’ll be mentioned there.”

“It seems so . . . easy.”

“If you know the right people, it is. It will take a couple of days. Once we have your real name, we’ll find a lawyer here to handle it.”

To think that in a matter of days I might have the answer I’d been waiting for my whole life felt impossible. But Dante seemed to think it nothing. I wanted to believe him. “Now it’s getting late, and I’m hungry. Where are you staying?”

The change in subject momentarily jostled my thoughts. “Staying? Around. Here and there.”

“Here and there,” he repeated. “You know it’s dangerous, don’t you? There are robberies and murders every night even with the soldiers about.”

“Believe me, I know. I’m safe enough.” I pulled out the metal rod and showed it to him.

Dante’s eyes darkened. “Someone with more skill is just as likely to turn that on you, May. For God’s sake. You’ll be safer staying with me.”