Later, after dinner, still happy about her new house, and a possible solution to her Brax dilemma, her mood plummeted when Detective Welch arrived along with two uniformed policemen.
“We have an arrest warrant for Raven Moreau,” one of the policemen announced.
“On what charge?” her mother asked angrily.
“Theft and embezzlement.”
Welch explained, “Thanks to my investigating, I now possess all the evidence needed to lock you up for years to come.”
The furious Raven didn’t respond. She was handcuffed in front of her stunned mother and aunts and led away. She had faith that her mother would move every star in the sky if necessary to get her freed and that Welch would go to hell for this betrayal. Before Raven was put into the police wagon, Welch boasted, “You’re going to make me the most famous lady detective in the nation. See you in court.” That said, she walked to a waiting hack, stepped inside, and was driven away.
The police wagon’s windowless interior stank of urine. One of the two metal benchesthat served as seating was occupied by a group of five men whose bloodied, angry faces bore the signs of a brawl. On the opposite bench sat three rouged up, scantily dressed women and a drunk who greeted her arrival by calling out in a slurred voice, “Welcome to the party, pretty lady,” then promptly passed out on the dirty floor. The cuffed Raven stepped around him and chose an empty spot near the women. One of them gently took hold of her elbow to guide her down. Raven thanked her.
“You’re welcome, honey. What did they grab you for?”
“Supposedly, embezzlement.”
The three looked impressed. One, wearing a red wig as long as a horse’s tail, said, “They got us for being Good Samaritans.”
The one seated beside her, wearing a battered gold tignon over her hair, cackled. “Yes, we offered aid and comfort to men in need.”
Their amusement was infectious and Raven smiled.
She and the other women were brought before a magistrate at the courthouse. Welch was seated in the back of the room but Raven ignored her. The Good Samaritans were ordered to pay fines and released. When it was Raven’s turn, the prosecutor representing the city’s interest argued against granting Raven anything close to that. He wanted her jailed until the circuit judge arrived. “She’s being accused of running a swindlingring that’s preyed on people all over the country for years. A jeweler in San Francisco is her latest victim, and he’s going to be sending a statement to the court with the details.”
Welch stood and announced, “She’ll flee the city if she’s granted bail.”
The magistrate, an older man with gray hair, looked her way. “And you are?”
“Pinkerton detective Ruth Welch. I’m the person responsible for her capture.”
“I see. Are you also her lawyer?”
Welch laughed. “Of course not.”
“Then please remain silent. I only want to hear from lawyers.”
Welch’s face reddened and she sat. Raven kept her smug smile hidden.
In the end, the prosecutor and Welch were granted what they’d requested. Raven was remanded to jail until the circuit judge arrived to hear the case.
In Boston, Brax was at his shop when a young man arrived with a wire from the telegraph office. Brax tipped the messenger and opened the sealed paper. It was from his father.Raven arrested. His blood turned to ice.
Two hours later, he was on a train going south.
The following afternoon, Ruth Welch had lunch in her room at the boardinghouse whereshe was staying and wondered smugly if Raven Moreau had enjoyed her first night in jail. According to the magistrate, the circuit judge was due in the city in two days. Ruth had hoped his arrival wouldn’t be for weeks so as to deflate some of the Moreau woman’s uppitiness, but Ruth would settle for knowing she was imprisoned. The sworn statement from San Francisco jeweler Oscar Gant had arrived earlier. They’d been corresponding over the past two weeks about the case. He hadn’t seen the face of the fake princess who’d robbed him, but Welch’s strong belief that Raven Moreau was indeed the culprit convinced him to lie to the court and say he had. She planned to present his statement at the hearing along with the testimony from Tobias Kenny.
The Declaration of Independence she’d been instrumental in recovering had been returned to its owner, and solving the case had earned her high praise from her superior. Now this case was falling into place as well, and she was pleased. Tobias Kenny was also in New Orleans. She’d met with him last evening, and he’d had news that added further ammunition to her evidence. He’d spoken with a disgruntled Moreau family member willing to testify about the gang’s network and past jobs. The person had fallen out of favor with them after being accused of not turning over his take from a swindle a few years back and been shunned.According to Tobias, the family considered the man dead to them, and no longer allowed him to participate in family business operations, or social gatherings of any kind. He supposedly had information on their fences in the States, Canada, and overseas. Welch couldn’t wait to speak with him.
She got to her feet to return her tray of lunch dishes back to the kitchen when a knock on her door broke the silence. “Who’s there?”
“Tobias.”
Hoping the meeting hadn’t been called off, she went to the door and opened it. He stepped in and said anxiously, “You need to move to a different location.”
“Why?”
“The Moreaux know where you are. Word is, they plan to kidnap you tonight to keep you from testifying.”