Читать книгу Through the Shadows - Karen Barnett - Страница 13

Chapter 6

6

Charles wrapped an elbow around the cable car’s brass rail, his free hand rubbing bleary eyes. He’d spent most of the late night hours memorizing the stack of files from his briefcase. Likely as not, he’d only be expected to observe this morning, but after years in law school, he’d learned not to cut corners. Surprise questions and unannounced examinations were the rule of the day. In order to avoid humiliation, one always overprepared.

The conveyance jerked to a stop, and Charles lost his balance for a moment. Releasing the pole, he hopped to the cobblestones, hurrying across Market Street to the courts’ temporary lodgings in the Grant Building. Just a block away from the ruined City Hall and the Hall of Records, what the office building lacked in grandeur, it made up for in functionality.

Charles swiped a hand across his forehead, glaring at the moisture collected on his fingertips. He hadn’t been this keyed up since his first day of college. Of course, Henry’s unpalatable descriptions of Spencer didn’t help.

Charles rehearsed the arguments in his mind. Would Spencer start with the scanty photographic evidence? As he approached the massive doors, one opened. A familiar young woman brushed past him without a glance.

Elizabeth King halted on the curb, her face similar in color to the sidewalk under her feet.

Charles grasped her elbow. “Miss King—are you quite well?” He tugged her back a step. “Why are you here?”

She locked her round eyes on him, her fingers dropping onto his forearm. “Mr. McKinley?”

He nodded. “You look as if you’ve spied a ghost.”

She dropped her hand, the veil of good breeding rushing back over her. “I’m quite well. Thank you for your concern.” She glanced up at the Grant Building. Her eyes narrowed. “Is your uncle here, too?”

Charles released her elbow. “No. Not today.” Why did he always feel compelled to rush to a woman’s rescue, even when he wasn’t wanted? “I’m glad to see you made it to San Francisco safely.”

“I’m here with Miss Cameron.” Her color returned. “I—I just needed a breath of air. You must have business inside. I shouldn’t keep you.”

“Yes, I’m expected in court—if you’re certain you don’t need assistance.” She doesn’t want your help. Can’t you see?

“I’m fine. You go ahead.” She turned her back, as if in dismissal.

His thoughts scattered as he stepped through the doors. Two people in a large city, and they both happen to be at the courts on the same day? He shook his head. His mother always said God moved in mysterious ways.

Charles trained his mind on the matters at hand. The files regarding the Transatlantic Insurance Company contained a massive amount of complex information and detail. Likely as not, the trial would drag on for weeks—months, even. He skirted groups of people, their muted conversations trailing him down the hallway. He’d need to familiarize himself with the opposition if he hoped to be a vital part of the process.

He stepped off the elevator at the fourth floor, checking the clerk’s sketched map.

Several well-dressed men stood outside the courtroom, their boisterous conversation carrying down the passage.

Charles stopped short. The man at the judge’s side matched Henry’s description of Frederick Spencer. The attorney’s smile gleamed, almost as if he oiled his teeth in addition to his hair.

The robed judge clasped him on the shoulder. “You just saved us all quite a lengthy headache, Mr. Spencer. I must admit, I’m more than relieved—I’m delighted.”

Spencer grasped the third man’s hand and pumped it. “Pleasure doing business with you, Robbins. You’ve made a wise decision that will save your company millions.”

Robbins nodded. “Can’t say I’m pleased, but I believe you’re right. It’s a fair arrangement. Just see you abide by it. I want no more claims to cross my desk, you hear?”

Spencer’s mouth quirked up on one side. “A deal’s a deal. And a profitable one at that.”

Robbins and the judge proceeded down the hall together as Spencer shoved a file into his briefcase.

Charles stepped forward. “Mr. Spencer?”

The man’s head jerked up, his eyes gray as granite. “Yes?”

Charles thrust his hand out. “Charles McKinley. It’s a pleasure.”

Spencer’s brows lowered. “Oh. McKinley. Yes, your uncle told me to expect you.” He shook Charles’s hand with a grip that made the younger man’s knuckles pop. “Too bad you wasted a trip.”

“What do you mean?”

“We arrived at a mutual agreement. Best for all involved.”

Charles’s skin prickled. “The insurance company settled out of court?”

Spencer chuckled. “I negotiated a package that’s . . . generous. To our clients, to the city.” He lifted a hand and rubbed his fingertips against each other as if rubbing two coins together. “And to us, of course. I believe Mr. McKinley—the actual Mr. McKinley—will be pleased.” Spencer cocked his head to the side. “Too bad you missed out on the negotiations. You might’ve learned something. Don’t worry, though. I’m sure Uncle Silas will come up with some more errands for you to run.”

Charles swallowed down a bitter reply. No need to burrow into the muck with the combative attorney. “Any chance the King family’s investments were included in this deal?” Even if he hadn’t taken part in the case, perhaps he could share the good news. A smile on Miss King’s face would be a welcome sight, indeed.

The man’s brows rose. “We’re talking big accounts here, McKinley, not everyone who lost a few cents in the blaze. Hotels, banks, factories, railroads—those are the players who bring in the money. No one cares about the beggars scraping by, barely able to make ends meet.”

A fire kindled in Charles’s belly. “I’d care to remind you, it’s those families on which this city is built.”

Spencer’s shoulders jerked with a shallow laugh. “I knew you’d be green, McKinley, but I’d no idea you were a fool as well. No worries—a few months working for me and I’ll sand off those rough edges.” He tucked the attaché under an elbow and strode away, chin high.

Charles’s overloaded bag pulled at his arm. He’d wasted yesterday and last night cramming for a case that would never go before a judge. The nature of the business, he understood, but foreknowledge didn’t ease the disappointment.

Charles tugged on his watch chain, drawing the timepiece from his vest pocket. The idea of returning to the office and poring over more paperwork made his eyes glaze. Perhaps he could spare a few minutes to watch part of the trial Miss King mentioned. He could use a reminder that some lawyers actually made a positive difference in the world.

***

Elizabeth willed her stomach to stop rolling as her heels clicked down the long corridor toward the courtroom. She’d read Tien Gum’s story in the Mission ledger last night, but hearing it in the girl’s own voice—or in Kum Yong’s as she translated—tore Elizabeth’s heart to shreds. She paused outside the closed door. If she couldn’t handle this, how would she endure working with the students day after day?

Elizabeth bounced her fingertips against her leg, fingering the chords of “Amazing Grace.” The song never failed to make her father smile, even in the final days of his illness. How quickly the melody returned to her in moments of worry. Elizabeth clenched her fist. Music wouldn’t make Tien’s pain go away, any more than it had Elizabeth’s temptations.

The door opened and Donaldina strode out, Kum Yong and Tien Gum on her heels. The girl clung to Kum Yong, her hiccupping sobs drawing the attention of many of the passersby. Donaldina stroked her arm and gestured for Elizabeth to join them. “Are you all right? I saw you slip out.”

“I’m fine. What happened? Is it over?”

“Judge Reinhardt declared a recess. I believe the final decision will be rendered shortly.”

Elizabeth pressed a knuckle against her lashes, the sight of Tien Gum’s tears causing her own eyes to water. “They must realize she didn’t steal the ring. How could anyone hear her testify and think she could be a thief?” She glanced over Donaldina’s shoulder, a familiar face catching her attention.

Mr. McKinley strode down the hallway toward her. The warmth in his brown eyes tightened the knot in Elizabeth’s throat.

“Miss King, Miss Cameron—I’m sorry to interrupt. My trial was cancelled, and I noticed you were here.” He glanced at Tien Gum, his brows drawing together. Mr. McKinley turned to Miss Cameron. “Do you need anything?”

Donaldina cocked her head as she studied the young man. “Mr. McKinley, right? We met in Sacramento.”

The attorney nodded, pulling off his derby and pressing it to his chest. “At your service.”

Helpful or meddlesome? Elizabeth sighed. At least he was a welcome distraction.

Donaldina straightened her lace cravat. “I appreciate your kindness. Tien Gum is a bit overwrought, but our lawyer, Mr. Allen, assures me he has everything in hand. The decision should be rendered soon, and we’ll be able to return to the Mission.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He rolled a pocket watch around in his palm. “I was quite moved by your speech, Miss Cameron. I’d like . . . if you ever find yourself in need . . .” his gaze wandered to Elizabeth. “I’d like to assist in your work.” He returned his attention to Donaldina. “Do you mind if I come in and observe the proceedings?”

Donaldina touched his arm. “Of course. We’d appreciate your perspective.”

The man bobbed his head before disappearing into the courtroom.

Elizabeth turned to Donaldina. “Why do you think he’s so interested?”

The missionary smiled. “The Lord brings people into our lives as He sees fit. Our paths have crossed with Mr. McKinley’s more than once now. Perhaps God is at work in his heart.” She tipped her head, her gaze locked on Elizabeth. “But I can’t speak as to his plans.”

God’s plans or Mr. McKinley’s?

As Donaldina, Kum Yong, and Tien Gum returned to their chairs in the front, Elizabeth found a seat in the gallery and folded her trembling hands in her lap. What would happen to the young girl if the judge ruled against her? She glanced around the room until she located Mr. McKinley sitting near the front on the opposite side.

The trial began anew, and though Elizabeth tried to focus her thoughts, her eyes kept returning to the Chinese girl. Her former captors sat just across the aisle. How could these men sit there so dignified, knowing what had been done to the young woman in question? And now they had the gall to accuse her of stealing? Had they no hearts?

At long last the judge called the trial to a completion. The room sank into a crushing silence as the man cleared his throat. “I find the defendant, Tien Gum, guilty of theft.”

Elizabeth’s heart crashed against her ribs. Guilty. The word echoed deep within her own soul.

***

Charles jammed the pen into his shirt pocket as the folks in the gallery rose to their feet, cries of disbelief ringing through the courtroom.

The judge slammed down his gavel. “I will have order or I will clear the room.” A sickening hush fell across the assembly as he continued. “The minor child is remanded into state custody until deportation proceedings can commence.”

The defendant’s keening sobs carried through the hall. “I not, I not . . .” She lapsed into Cantonese, the sound tearing at Charles’s heart.

Miss Cameron placed a protective arm around the young girl.

Charles sank back in his seat, the impact of the decision causing a familiar clawing at his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment, the memory of his sister’s trial etched forever in his mind. A quick glance back at Elizabeth’s tearstained face heaped coals on the fire.

The judge shot a bushy-browed glance at the defense table. “The defendant—the minor child, Tien Gum—will be transported to the city jail until further arrangements can be made.”

Donaldina Cameron’s chin jerked up. “Your honor, she wouldn’t be safe. I must insist she remain in my custody. She could serve—”

The bang of Judge Reinhardt’s gavel cut off her words. “You are out of order, Miss Cameron. The court has been very tolerant of your outspoken manner in the past, but—”

“You have yet to experience my outspoken manner.” The woman’s fingers curled into fists.

Charles braced himself on the seat back in front of him. The Mission’s attorney needed to intervene.

As if on cue, Miss Cameron’s lawyer grasped her elbow, muttering in the woman’s ear.

She shook her head, brows pinched low. “I will not.” She shoved the man’s hand away and turned back to the bench. “If you insist on imprisoning this child, I’m going with her.”

The judge rose halfway off his seat, like a vulture hunched over its meal. “That can be arranged.”

Miss Cameron pulled the sobbing girl close. “Take her, you take me.” She glared at the judge as if daring him to defy her.

Judge Reinhardt sounded the gavel, the crack echoing through the room. “Miss Cameron, you are in contempt.”

Miss Cameron’s attorney stepped in front of the women, lifting his palms toward the front. “Your honor—”

The judge pointed the mallet at the counselor. “One more word, Mr. Allen, and you’ll join them.”

Charles bit his lip as the bailiff and guard escorted the two women out of the room. This had gotten out of hand. After the judge dismissed the buzzing courtroom and withdrew, Charles leaped from his seat and pushed past the spectators to reach the defense attorney. “I need to speak with you.”

The man heaved a sigh and jammed a hat atop his thinning hair. “No questions, please. I’ll have a statement for the press later. Right now, I need a drink.”

Charles pushed down the growl climbing his throat. “I’m not a reporter. I’m with McKinley and McClintock.” He cast the names out like a fishing line.

The counselor’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.” His eyes traveled over Charles’s frame. “You new there?”

“What are you planning to do about Miss Cameron? You know they won’t allow her to accompany the girl to her cell. You need to get her out of there. Both of them, if possible.”

The man shoved his hat back from his forehead. “Look, young man—I don’t care who you are. I’ve had it with the woman. I do everything I can to keep her girls out of trouble. If she wants to simmer down by spending a night in jail, who am I to object?” He jammed his papers into a folder. “In fact, I’m done arguing—both with her and for her.”

The young woman who had served as Tien Gum’s translator appeared at Mr. Allen’s elbow. “I don’t understand what’s happened. Why are they taking Miss Cameron?”

Charles caught Mr. Allen’s arm. “You can’t just leave them. This case needs to be appealed, and quickly.”

The man shoved the files against Charles’s chest. “You do it. I quit.”

A breathless Elizabeth appeared at Charles’s elbow. “What’s Donaldina doing?”

Mr. Allen jerked a thumb toward the judge’s chambers. “She challenged this judge one too many times. She can deal with the consequences, but I’m not threatening my career by antagonizing Reinhardt. The ruling’s ludicrous. You ask me, someone slipped him a wad of cash. No, strike that—don’t ask me. I’m leaving.” Hoisting his bag up under his arm, he shoved past Elizabeth and hurried toward the door.

“Wait, you can’t just . . .” She followed him for two steps before turning and surging back to Charles. “What do we do?” Twin spots of pink dotted Elizabeth’s cheeks. “We can’t let them take Donaldina and Tien Gum!”

A tremor cascaded through his chest. He blew out a long exhale. “You two return to the Mission. I’ll speak to the judge.” If he’ll see me. Charles locked his eyes on the young woman who’d sent his life pitching out of control the moment they’d met. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”