The man pointed to a set of stairs leading down. “In the basement.”
She thanked him and they moved toward the stairs. This time, as they descended, it was Carmella who grabbed Inez’s arm. “Surely not here? He wouldn’t be here?”
“I doubt it,” Inez assured her. Downstairs, they paused. In one direction was the City Receiving Hospital. Doors swung open, emitting a weeping woman leaning heavily on the arm of a man. Behind them Inez glimpsed a seething mass of people, standing, sitting, lying on gurneys and even on the floor. Sounds of pain and fear rolled out before the doors swung shut. Inez spotted the sign to the police station offices in the opposite direction. “There.”
Once in the station, they approached an officer behind a tall wooden desk. He listened more or less patiently as Inez said, “We were notified that an unidentified man was found by Long Bridge yesterday morning. It may be we can identify him.”
“Well now, Long Bridge, is it?” He scratched his bristly mustache. Inez detected bread crumbs of some kind tenaciously entrenched in the upper lip foliage. “Let me see what I can find out for you, ma’am.”
He disappeared down a hallway. They waited, Carmella’s fingertips digging painfully through the wool of Inez’s coat sleeve. He reappeared, his mustache more orderly, crumbs gone, obviously having taken the moment to neaten up. “The unfortunate fella dredged up from the Mission Creek channel, is that right?”
Inez nodded her affirmation.
“Turns out he’s with one of the city’s deputy coroners, Mr. W. T. Hamilton.”
“And where might that be?” inquired Inez.
He gave her the address, 1112 Broadway, then paused. “Surely you ladies have a gentleman with you who will perform the visual identification of the unknown?”
Inez gave him a tight little smile. “Thank you for your help, Officer. And for your concern.”
She hustled Carmella up the stairs and out the doors, hailed a passing hack, gave the address to the driver, and asked him to wait once they got there. She was becoming concerned about her time away from the store. Too, if worse came to worst, and the victim was, indeed, Jamie Monroe, she didn’t want to subject Carmella to a long wait for another carriage.
They pulled up to a neat building that appeared to be both residence and office, commanding the corner of Broadway and Jones. Inez gave him a coin with the promise they would not be long. He tipped his hat, and went to the boot to pull out a feedbag for his horse. They were on the shoulder of Russian Hill, bay and ocean stretching to the east and north. Carmella pulled her veil back down and faced east toward the bay. The clouds had cleared, leaving the air cool but gentle. Sunlight sparkled on the distant water. Inez joined her, and they stood looking out over the wide-open view. Inez inhaled, tasting the softness of salt.
Finally, Carmella said, “We have so many plans, Jamie and I. So much to look forward to.”
Inez said, “Would you prefer to wait in the carriage? I can take care of this.”
The dark veil shimmered as Carmella shook her head.
They walked up to the door. Carmella reached for the bell twist, and Inez said, “Wait.” She rummaged in her reticule, finally handing Carmella a lace-edged linen handkerchief. “Hold it to your face if the smell is overwhelming,” said Inez.
Carmella took a sniff through the veil. “Cloves?”
“The best I could do on short notice,” said Inez, reflecting she was lucky to find that much in her meager kitchen. Inez pulled out her own clove-scented cloth and tucked it into her coat pocket. Carmella turned the bell twist. A metallic ring answered from inside. Soon thereafter Inez detected a tread, and the door opened partway. A giant of a man with the pitted complexion of a long-ago encounter with smallpox looked down at them.
They looked up.
Standing there in his shirtsleeves, he seemed to have been caught unprepared for visitors
“May I help you?” he asked, his voice so soft Inez had to bend forward to hear him.
She cleared her throat. “We are looking for Mr. Hamilton.”
“I’m sorry. He is not in at the moment.” Inez experienced a wave of disappointment mixed with relief.
Carmella spoke up from behind her veil. “We are here regarding a young man found by Long Bridge yesterday. We might know who he is.”
“Oh.” His quiet exhalation was followed by a long hesitation. “It would be best if you returned when Mr. Hamilton is here. I am his assistant, you see. He was called out but will be available tomorrow morning.”
“We have come a long way,” said Inez. Submitting Carmella to another long night of not knowing was not going to happen if she could help it. Besides, if Hamilton was not there, perhaps that was a good thing. The coroner might ask far more questions of them than the assistant. They could see what they came to see, then vanish, anonymous as the fog.
Inez continued, “This has been a big strain on my niece.” She turned pointedly to Carmella, who clasped her gloved hands before her as if in silent prayer.
She turned back to the assistant. “We only need a moment with the deceased. He may be my nephew. Her cousin. He has not been heard of for some time. If you could see it in your heart to let us in, I promise we will not take much of your time.”
“The deceased’s face is…” The assistant paused again. “He may be difficult to recognize. The police surgeon said he was beaten with a heavy object. And he was in the channel for a while. He has been examined, washed, and cleaned. We did the best we could, but….You must know all this? You were told by the coroner? That is how you knew to come here?”
Inez thought of agreeing with all he said, but was loathe to lie outright in front of Carmella. To her surprise, Carmella said, “That is right. We know
