Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Mrs. O'Malley's Midnight Mystery, Chapter Two

Welcome, I’m Mary Louisa Locke, the author of the USA Today best-selling Victorian San Francisco Mystery series and the Caelestis Science Fiction series. In this daily newsletter, I reflect on my life as an indie author trying to age gracefully. Occasionally, I will also publish some of my shorter fiction in this newsletter to read for free.

Daily Diary, Day 1679:

Brief check-in: Got in 2 walks, 855 words written, and plan for today is more of the same. Another beautiful bloom.

Throughout the month of April, I will be offering, for free, the seventh short story in my Victorian San Francisco mystery series, Mrs. O’Malley’s Midnight Mystery. These posts will come out every Tuesday and Thursday. This story, right on the border between being a short story and a novella, actually has chapters, so below is the second chapter. (And if you are impatient, you can just go and buy either the ebook or audiobook for only $1.99.)

Mrs. O’Malley’s Midnight Mystery
by M. Louisa Locke
Copyright, 2020

Chapter Two:

Tuesday evening, October 4, 1881
O’Farrell Street Boardinghouse

“Biddy, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, it’s been ages since you stopped by,” Kathleen Hennessey said, putting down her dishcloth to give her old friend a big hug. “And don’t you look fine! I love that blue, brings out the color of your eyes. That isn’t one of the Silver Strike Bazaar outfits, is it?”

“Near as…Mr. Livingston lets us clerks buy clothes from the store at a small discount. Says it’s good advertising. Most of the girls buy the ready-made dresses, but even with the discount, the price’s too rich for me. I wait until a piece of material goes on sale…usually because it’s got a soiled bit. This blue wool was nearly half off. Then I use one of the designs I learned when I worked in the dress department and make the outfit myself. Of course, my mother helps.”

“Well, it’s quite striking, isn’t it, Mrs. O’Rourke?” Kathleen said to the boardinghouse cook and housekeeper as she ushered her friend to a chair. “Did I ever tell you that Biddy’s mother is the one who first taught me how to sew? Not that I was very good back then, just enough to help keep my younger brothers from being in complete rags.”

Mrs. O’Rourke smiled and said, “Miss Bridget, you are certainly a sight for sore eyes. I’m glad you stopped by. Now, can I get you something to eat? Don’t suppose you’ve had your supper yet, and I was about to fix a plate for Miss Laura, who should be home from work any minute.”

“Do say yes, Biddy; you know Mrs. O’Rourke is never happy unless everyone is well fed. Tilly’s tidying up the dining room. She’ll be down any minute. She won’t want to miss you. You can stay and chat, can’t you?”

Biddy said, “Oh, Mrs. O’Rourke, if you don’t mind, at least a cup of tea. But don’t do anything special. I can’t stay long. My sister Deirdre is doing a good job taking care of the smaller children after my mother leaves for work, but my older twin brothers, Bri and Bennie, can be a real handful.”

Kathleen Hennessey had met Biddy O’Malley when they were quite young, living in the same lodging house. That was before Kathleen’s mother and father died and she went out to work as a servant at age twelve. After that, she hadn’t seen much of Biddy, until two years ago when Kathleen helped her mistress, Mrs. Dawson, investigate a shady trance medium. Turned out Biddy worked as a servant for that woman. Since that time, she and Biddy tried to attend mass at St. Patrick’s at the same time every couple of months so they could have a quick meal afterwards and catch up. Occasionally, they’d also run into each other at one of St. Joseph’s Parish dances, although Kathleen hadn’t seen Biddy at one of those since last spring.

Kathleen’s fellow servant, Tilly, who was Biddy’s cousin, recently told Kathleen that her aunt was worried that Biddy was spending too much time with some of the girls she worked with. Kathleen had wondered if the problem with these girls was simply that they weren’t good Irish Catholics, or if there was a different reason for Biddy’s mother to be worried. Time to arrange to meet after church again, since there was no chance Biddy would open up in front of Mrs. O’Rourke.

Just then Tilly came into the kitchen from the back stairs and stopped short, saying, “Biddy, whatever are you doing here? Is everything all right at home?”

“Everything’s fine, that is, if the older twins haven’t managed to get themselves in trouble since I left home this morning. No, I’m here because Mother wants me to talk to Kathleen about getting her Patrick to look into something that’s worrying her.”

Mrs. O’Rourke said, “Dearie, whatever does your mother want with my Patrick? Is it police business?”

Patrick McGee was one of Mrs. O’Rourke’s nephews and Kathleen’s official beau. He was also working hard to rise in the ranks of the city’s police force, hoping eventually to be given a permanent place in the detective division. His aunt tended to give him a hard time, but Kathleen knew she was secretly proud of how he was following in her late husband’s footsteps.

Biddy took the cup of tea Kathleen poured for her and thanked Mrs. O’Rourke for the thick sandwich she had fixed for her, saying the pickles on the side were her favorite.

Then, after taking a bite of pickle, she said, “My mother thinks what she’s seen might be a police matter. But she isn’t sure, which is why she wanted to talk to Patrick before deciding what to do.”

Tilly said, “Aunt Maureen didn’t mention anything to me when I saw her late Sunday afternoon.”

Biddy said, “What she saw happened that night. You see, she thinks some men who have recently moved into the lodging house across from our place might be up to no good.”

Kathleen said, “She’s still working nights at St. Mary’s hospital, isn’t she?”

“Yes, and Sunday is her only night off, and generally she spends all Sunday night sitting by the kitchen window, sewing. The past two Sundays she’s seen these three men leave the lodging house right around midnight and come back around four. And she thinks that they’re doing something illegal in those four hours.”

Kathleen stared at her friend, wondering if Biddy, who did like a good laugh, could possibly be joking. But the frown on her friend’s usually open face stopped her from saying anything beyond, “Why does she think that?”

“According to Mother, it’s the timing that initially seemed odd. What job would start after midnight, but only last four hours? And she said all three of the men carried big bags over their backs…but two of the bags seemed empty, while one seemed partially filled. To her these bags made it unlikely that they were just heading off to a saloon after a day’s work. But what really got her to worrying was that this Sunday they seemed to be purposely trying to avoid being seen by the local patrolman when they left.”

“What made her think that?” Kathleen asked.

“She said it looked to her like one of them stood in the doorway for a few minutes but then ducked back inside as soon as the patrolman came into view. Then, a good five minutes later, that man came out, looked up and down the street, then motioned, and the other two men came out and then three of them hurried up Beale Street.”

Mrs. O’Rourke said, “They were heading up towards Market?”

“Yes. We live between Folsom and Harrison. She’s pretty sure they didn’t turn on Folsom, couldn’t see if they turned on Harrison, though.”

Kathleen blurted out, “Between their unwillingness to be seen by the copper, and the bags and the direction they were heading, sure sounds like they could be burglars.”

She turned and looked anxiously at Mrs. O’Rourke. Burglars were a touchy subject for the older woman after she tangled with a couple of them last summer.

Mrs. O’Rourke nodded thoughtfully and said, “Well, I think that Mrs. O’Malley is right to be worried. By midnight, the streets would be pretty empty, and if you were robbing a place, especially a house, you’d want to be gone by four, cause that’s about when the first servants start to get up.”

Biddy said, “That’s what my mother thinks. She’s been sitting at that window on Sunday nights, watching the neighborhood, for near on four years, so she’s got a good feel for what’s normal traffic and what’s not.”

Mrs. O’Rourke said, “She’s just seen these three men the past two Sunday nights?”

“Yes, but she asked Mrs. Greeley, who runs the lodging house, about them yesterday. Mrs. Greeley said the three men moved in three weeks ago. Sharing a room, which she thought was sort of odd, since they talked like they were big spenders. They said they were from back east, looking into investing in property in the city. She said they were very polite but that they were out and about, didn’t seem to keep any regular hours. She doesn’t do boarders, so they eat elsewhere.”

Kathleen asked Biddy if her mother had told the lodging housekeeper about them going out late on Sundays.

Her friend said, “Mrs. Greeley told my mother she must be mistaken, because she always keeps the doors locked after ten, and none of the men had asked for a key. Truth be told, I know for a fact that Mrs. Greeley is rather forgetful. In addition, she keeps her ring of keys on a nail by the front door. Wouldn’t be difficult for someone to make a copy.”

Mrs. O’Rourke came and sat down at the table and said, “Could your mother see if there was anything in the bags when they returned at four?”

“She says all three of the bags the men carried now looked full, filled with something really heavy by the way the men were hunched over. Even more suspicious, she said that before they went into the lodging house, they stopped by the narrow passageway between the house and the next building, which is a small ironmonger’s place. Mother told me it looked like one man was watching to make sure no one was coming down the street, while the other two disappeared down the passageway for a couple of minutes. When they reappeared, she’s pretty sure the bags were empty. That’s the pattern they followed both Sundays.”

Kathleen said, “Hiding the loot?”

Mrs. O’Rourke nodded and said, “Or maybe their burglary tools. Seems pretty chancy to hide anything valuable outside where someone else could find it. Biddy, I do think their behavior warrants being looked into. But the proper man to consult is the local patrolman, not my nephew Patrick.”

Kathleen said, “Do you know the local man at all? You did say that your mother thought that the men were on the lookout for him. Do you think they knew when he would show up? Patrick says that they are all supposed to vary their routines when walking a beat, that way no one will know when they might show up.”

Biddy said, “Mother’s never thought much of Officer Furstenberg, our local copper. She says you can set your clock by when he is going to turn up Beale Street every night. He comes by at seven, midnight, and then again at five. More importantly, she doesn’t believe he will take her seriously. She’s had a few occasions to ask for his help…and well, he’s not treated her with any respect. That’s why she wanted to talk to your Patrick, Kathleen.”

Kathleen said, “I tell you what. Patrick said he would stop by this evening when he gets off work. I’ll tell him what you’ve told us, see what he says. Maybe he can start to look into things. He gets off work early on Friday, which is my evening off. What if we come around to your place about five? Would your mother have time to talk to him then, before she goes off to work?”

“Oh, yes, that would be perfect. I know she won’t stop worrying until she gets to the bottom of whatever is going on.”

To be continued…

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