Chapter 9

Mare Adams Diary

February 23

I entered Captain Tenny’s office. It was quite different from the boisterous activity in the station proper. His office was calm and ordered. Papers on his desk were stacked with military precision next to three rows of pencils sharpened to a razor point. A large ink quill pen stood at attention in a glass tumbler. I stood in my best Sunday dress, trying not be intimidated, but when he stood, I was anyway. Captain Tenny was a large man, broad in the shoulders, with a square jaw, and the air of manhood other men envied or admired. His hair was cut high on the sides and short on the top, with a light dusting of silver dancing in it. Captain Tenny’s eyes were hard though. They were the eyes of a man who had seen too much of the worst of men, was not troubled by things he had done, but preferred order over violence. But I sensed he would use violence just as quick. All this I gauged on his appearance.

I knew my normal tactics would not work with this man, so I decided on a frontal assault. Something a man of his experience would understand.

“I understand you are here about the missing child ma’am.” He said before I could fire my opening salvo. I cleared my throat which was suddenly very dry.

“And what are you doing about this Captain?”

He appraised me with his eyes. Not the sexual appraisal I was used to, but a calculating gaze, as if trying to determine whether I was friend or foe.

I felt off balance, but charged ahead regardless, “A child goes missing in Baltimore, surely it is a priority to you. To the Union. I mean, it could be Confederate sympathizers, hoodlums, street gangs or worse! If we allow children to get snatched off the streets this city will erupt! Erupt into violence and chaos! If Captain Tenny, you begin a search immediately for this child I will bring to bear all the street resources you need. I know the Union can use resources like these. I have eyes and ears in many places Captain. I can be of service if you but let me.”

Captain Tenny sat back, cradling his large hands together, his gaze not on me, but in a place far away from here; perhaps farther than Baltimore. He did not speak for some time, causing me to doubt why I came here in the first place. At long last, he looked at me and smiled.

“Ms. Mare, do I look like a fool to you? Do I look like a man who is easily swayed by money, sexual favors, or offers of power? I know full well that Baltimore is a powder keg of potential violence waiting to explode given the right circumstances. I understand the realities of war and suffering, as well as the cost of that suffering. Crying mothers and fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, friends, all lose when war is on the wind. Alexander the Great was correct in his analysis of war: Who does not desire such a victory by which we shall join places in our Kingdom, so far divided by nature, and for which we shall set up trophies in another conquered world?”

He paused, sipped what I assumed was coffee from a metal tin. His look, misty.

“Of course, I want to find a missing child Ms. Mare. And, I understand your connections to the, more unsavory elements of this city based upon your business. So, if I need assistance, which I may, I will be in touch. As far as the child, I can’t spare the manpower at this moment, but trust me when I say. Those responsible will be punished should the child not be found alive. Good day.”

I stood there. Uncertain of my next move. I always knew what my next move would be as I had to as a woman running a brothel in a business full of scoundrels, cheaters, and bums.

Captain Tenny brought his gaze back to me, surprised I was still in the room. It was obvious he was used to orders given and carried out.

“Yes?”

“I am not done sir. What exactly are you going to do about finding the boy? I am charged with taking care of him and his mother who is just a girl herself. It may not be a priority to you, but it IS to me sir! So do your DAMN JOB and find the boy!”

I walked out slamming the door before he could respond. The melody of broken glass followed me as I walked past the now quiet audience in the station. Everyone silent. Eyes marching from me back toward Captain Tenny’s office. I allowed myself a smile. Not one word was spoken, but I liked to think a legend was born in Baltimore that day.

MY legend.

Chapter 10

Mare Adams Diary

February 25

Late. Almost 2AM.

Slow night. The girls are entertaining customers while I work in my office on the books. Most of the activity is winding down now. I will try to get to bed in another hour or so. Poor Sarah. She has taken to sleepwalking since Isiah’s been gone. I mixed a small sleeping cocktail for her. I do hope she can sleep this night.

3AM.

I heard voices on the stairs. All the customers are gone. Girls in bed. When I went to check I saw Sarah standing on the stairs speaking to someone, but there was no one there. It sounded like she was speaking to Isiah. She is having a rough time of it. Missing her sweet boy. Talking to him and answering back. I touched her arm and she seemed in a trance or something. She smiled at me as I led her back to bed.

February 26

2AM

Sarah sleep-walking again. She seems weaker and more pale than usual. She did not want to eat earlier this evening. When we pressured her to eat, she became violently sick. I am worried. Going to contact the doctor tomorrow.

February 27

Noon

Tried to have the doctor come to visit Sarah, but did not realize he was called away as a war surgeon last month. I sent word to my old friend Judith. She works for a doctor named Strapp. She has cared for the doctor all his life and speaks highly of his skill, although she confided in me that he has not practiced for some time. I asked if Dr. Strapp would come anyway. She assured me he would come tomorrow. She is such a wonderful person!

February 28

9AM

Dr. (Artemis) Strapp arrived on time. I admit I was skeptical based on his appearance. He is tall, handsome, but so untidy. Wild, unruly hair that he seemed to have attempted to smooth down with shoe polish or his hand. Shoes that were battered and scratched up. An unshaved face more suited to soldiers than a man of his profession, and a general air of clumsiness. However, he had the gentlest eyes and demeanor. He spoke with a practiced air of self-assurance, confidence, and kindness. He examined Sarah, talked to her about Isiah, and her sleeping patterns. Overall, Dr. Strapp put my fears at ease. He prescribed several medicines for her to help her sleep.

Judith mentioned to me that Dr. Strapp lost his wife last year. I feel for this kind man who has already lost so much.

“Make sure Miss Capston takes three pills. No more. No less.”

“I will Dr. Strapp. Thank you for being so kind to her. The poor dear has suffered

so.”

“Have they not found the boy?” He asked.

“They aren’t looking.” The words tasted bitter as I said them, and he must have heard it in my voice. He stared at me. Appraising me with those kind eyes. Behind them, I sensed a strength; a conviction. I did not know this man, but I got the impression that once set on a path he would never quit. No matter the outcome or consequences.

“That is criminal. If there is anything I can do, please call on me. Good day Ms. Adams.”

I took the card he offered and watched him leave.

February 29

3:35AM

A terrible racket upstairs woke me!

I crept from my room, holding my silver-bladed Bowie Knife; a gift from my father back in Texas. I tiptoed down the hallway, wondering why no one else had woken. It seemed I was the only one to hear the noise.

More noise. Distinct now. Coming from Sarah’s room.

She had her own room, sharing it with Isiah. The mothers who worked for me shared rooms with their children. The other working girls lived two and three to a room.

A single window illuminated the hallway; the moon shining on the blade as I walked. It seemed to glow exceptionally bright tonight. When I stopped outside Sarah’s door I tensed. I heard voices.

Two voices.

One, unmistakably Sarah’s. The other…it sounded…like…

Isiah’s.

My throat constricted, the lack of spit making my mouth dry. I placed a hand on the knob, twisting slowly. The door slid open without a sound. I entered, ready to confront a robber, or disgruntled customer, and stood, mesmerized.

Sarah, lay on the bed. Her nightgown covered in blood. Her face relaxed, almost joyful.

But the horror…Isiah…her little boy…sat astride her chest.

His small face was covered in what I could only guess was his mother’s blood. He turned his face to me and smiled. The sight so terrible I threw my arms up, covering my face with the Bowie knife. When Isiah saw the silver blade he hissed like a cat, sprang from the bed to the window sill, and out into the night.

I ran over to the window and looked down, seeing a flash of white, Isiah’s small shape, running away through the maze of buildings. I blinked my eyes several times, trying to comprehend what I had just witnessed. My house was almost three stories high. The fall should have killed the child. And yet…

I stumbled over to Sarah.

“Sarah! Sarah! Speak to me!” I cradled her in my arms. Her head flopped to the side. She was dead. All life, brightness, and spirit gone; leaving behind an empty shell. What had I just witnessed? Was that really her own child come back to kill her?

Who would believe me? Oh, dear God! What madness is this?

5AM

Dr. Strapp arrived within an hour of me sending one of my boys to get him. He did not speak or ask any questions as I led him up to Sarah’s room. He entered, looked around with a methodical and clinical detachment. He studied Sarah’s lifeless body, wrote notes in a small leather journal, and nodded to himself. He never spoke until we walked back downstairs to the kitchen.

“Have you told anyone of this?” Dr. Strapp asked.

“Of course not. It just happened.”

“Yes. Yes of course. It appears your friend has suffered a tremendous loss of blood, which seems to have occurred through means of several puncture wounds.”

“Puncture? You mean like holes Doctor?”

“Exactly what I mean! Ms. Capston had wounds in her neck, wrist, and the crook of her elbow. Very small, but definitely teeth marks.”

He paused, thinking. I made the coffee and we drank in silence. My time in this business has taught me that men need to have time to talk and think through their words. I never rush anyone.

“Tell me about the boy.”

I recounted what happened. It sounded idiotic now in the light of day, but I tried to be as forthcoming as possible. To his credit, Dr. Strapp did not belittle me, interrupt, or attempt to cast doubt on my retelling. He simply listened and nodded.

“Do you believe me Dr. Strapp?”

He leaned forward, staring at me.

“I believe you Ms. Adams, and call me Artemis. Now, we need to get our story straight about what transpired here. You called me last night. I attended to Ms. Capston. Later, you heard a commotion. You went to the room and found her dead, from suicide.”

I sat there in disbelief. Suicide? Dr. Strapp must have known I was trying to come to terms with his words.

“Ms. Adams. You cannot report to the police that her son climbed in through her window, drained the blood from her body, then leapt from that same window. Even though I believe you, the story reeks of foul play.”

“But suicide?”

Dr. Strapp leaned over the table and placed a warm hand on top of mine.

“A distraught mother taking her own life over the loss of a child is horrible, but understandable.” He said.

I agreed and we walked back upstairs and into Sarah’s bedroom. He asked me if wanted to turn away, but I stayed firm, watching as he used a scalpel to cut a wider wound in the poor girl’s neck where small teeth marks were visible. He made another cut on her wrist. I had not noticed the wounds on her wrist before. He stood back and nodded.

“It is done. I am so sorry for your loss. Now I believe we should call the authorities. If you wish, I will give them my medical opinion when they arrive to spare you any undue strain.”

“That would be kind of you Dr. Strapp. Thank you.”

“Please call me Artemis. After Ms. Capston is laid to rest, I suggest you and I meet to talk. Will this work for you Ms. Adams?”

“Yes…I…thank you again, and thank you for believing me sir.”

He smiled at me and left the room to alert the authorities. I pulled a chair over to the bed, sitting next to Sarah’s body; recalling the sight of Isiah perched on his mother’s breast like some kind of animal.

7:45AM

The Baltimore City Police arrived, followed shortly by a special Union detachment. The City Police Force has mostly been disbanded since Union occupation began last year. Despite this, police loyal to the Union have been allowed to remain on the force. They work in small squads, are allowed limited latitude and discretion, and must report all significant findings to Captain Tenny. Artemis proved an expert in speaking with them. They listened to his professional explanation about the circumstances surrounding Sarah’s death, and seemed to accept this on face value.

Oh, but to be a man at this time! I know without a doubt that I would have been interrogated for many hours about this, especially given the business I run. A brothel, while allowed to operate on the fringes, is still looked down on in polite society, even as we service those very same members of polite society. After running my business for almost nine years there are many who would see me out of business.

After the police and Union investigators left, I had a suspicion about someone showing up. Sure enough, as Artemis was preparing to leave, a knock sounded on my front door. I opened it and there stood James Fountain.

“Miss Adams. Good afternoon!” A gloating smile covered his broad face, and the thick, humongous mustache suspended from his upper lip seemed more like a coat for his face than a mustache. It dangled down on either end and twitched like twin fish in a barrel when he laughed or attempted the semblance of a smile. Fountain must have City Police on his payroll to learn so fast about the tragedy in my house.

And, he sensed an opportunity to pounce.

Fountain owned a vast number of businesses in Baltimore, especially along the port and docks. My establishment was one of the rare ones not beholden to Fountain Properties, and this vexed him to no end. He had attempted to buy me out numerous times. When this did not work, he attempted, through illicit means, of course, to force me out with a group of thugs. Fortunately, our main clientele were stevedores, caulkers, and other lay workers. They defended the girls and me, which led to quite a few days of credit for them.

“And who is this upstanding gentleman? A client perhaps?” Fountain asked.

“Dr. Artemis Strapp. Not that it is your business. What do you want Fountain?” I answered. Fountain sneered and the coat mustache twitched.

“Why poor dear woman. I came by to offer my sincerest condolences on the passing of that pretty young thing! Such a tragedy! My, my! It appears to me that this news will get out onto the streets faster than one of your whores makes a customer slip his jimmy out! Mmmm! Yes indeed! I believe the time is ripe Ms. Adams to reconsider.”

It took everything I had not to punch this man in the face, but I refrained.

“Reconsider what Fountain?” I spat his name out.

Artemis watched our back and forth, not speaking, but I did notice he physically insinuated his body between mine and Fountain’s. It was a subtle movement, and I don’t think the Fountain noticed, but I did. I appreciated this small gesture.

“Our partnership of course! You see, last time I was greedy. I admit it. I was! See? That’s how big a person I am! I failed to see the value in you staying on would have for the business. But now I fully understand. A partnership with you means more for both of us. You keep in charge of your stock, and increase sales, while I help market and drive business, paying attention to overhead of course…”

“Of course.” I said.

Fountain was still standing in the doorway. He glanced around.

“Perhaps I could enter your abode? For more friendly chit-chat?”

I stood my ground. “I am quite comfortable here. Talk.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “You are aware, as most are, that I own many buildings throughout our great city. So, here is what I propose…you select one of the buildings to your liking. Anywhere in the city. We make an agreement on a split, say 70/30 perhaps? Okay, how about 60/40? This is more than fair since I am putting up the property, supplies, household stores, clothes, food, whatever you need for operational expenses. All you do is supply the merchandise and use those admirable negotiation skills on the clientele as usual. Everyone wins! And, we all get wealthy in the process. You can go to the capitol; oh yes, I know things about you Ms. Adams! You can experience the dream of living with your family and leave this life behind much sooner than you anticipated.”

Fountain paused for dramatic effect.

“So?”

“I will consider your offer…” Fountain began to smile a victory smile.

“Never. Good day sir.”

I slammed the door in his face. Muffled curses sprang from the other side.

Artemis smiled. “You handled that well Ms. Adams.”

This made me smile.