Gold

 

      Gold. It’s all we’re after, and it’s all I’m here to protect. In my town of San Francisco, what you find is what you own, and my job is to make sure nobody steals other people’s findin’s. I’m also supposed to make sure no one gets killed, but that’s a smaller matter. My philosophy as sheriff of San Francisco is that people came out here to find gold, no matter the cost. So if they lose a limb or a life, it’s not my fault, but if they lose their gold that’s somethin’ I’ve got to deal with. That’s why the story I’m about to tell you is so important to me. It all started in March of 1849, just as the rain was comin’ down in sheets… 
 

      “Sheriff, Sheriff, come quick! It’s gone, every last bit! Come quick!”

      Lewis Baker came bargin’ into my office just as I was gettin’ ready to eat my mornin’ meal of eggs and sausage. Lewis was the town blacksmith and always had somethin’ to complain about. Whether it be his wife’s sore foot or that his couldn’t read good, he came to me at least once a week. Now as a sheriff I am required to do what I can, but most of the time his complaints had nothin’ to do with me. So when he threw open my door that Wednesday mornin’, I was not lookin’ forward to what he had to say.

      “What is it this time, Lewis?” I asked, as I sighed and put down my fork.

      “They took it all, it’s gone! I – I don’t know what to do!”

      “What’s gone?”

      “My gold! Everythin’ I’ve worked for! They came in the middle of the night, took everythin’, and left this mark on my shoulder!” Lewis rolled up his flannel and showed me a mark made with a knife. It looked like a T, only the lines were curvy. “What do I do?”

      “Now, Lewis, calm down, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this. It’s my first priority, don’t you worry. Did you wake up when they were there?”

      “No, they were silent. I woke up as they was cuttin’ my shoulder, but all I saw was a black mask. No face or nothin’. It coulda been anybody. Oh! And I saw some rubies on the knife they was usin’. They looked like tear drops.”

      I wrote that down. “Is Helen alright?”

      “Yeah, Helen’s fine. Except I promised her I was gonna buy her a new dress, but I can’t do that no more.”

      “Don’t worry I’ll get your gold back. Kurt, can you get in here? Kurt!”

      “Yes sir?” My new deputy ran into my office lookin’ tired. I had recently hired him after he moved here from Virgina. “What d’ya need?”

      “Lewis here had his gold stolen, so I need you to find out where everyone was last night and if they saw any strange behavior. Get Agnes in here to make Lewis some tea and to calm him down.”

      “Yes partner, I’m on it.”

      “Lewis, I don’t want you to worry about a thing. Kurt and I are gonna take care of this. You know how important it is to me that we find your gold and the thief. Now Agnes here is gonna make you some tea while I ask you some questions. Is that alright? It’ll be quick.”

      “Anythin’ you need, Sheriff.”

      I gave him the standard questions; I asked him about his night, what he had done, did he have any enemies, what he thought of the mark on his shoulder. After he left, I looked over my notes. Went to work, came home for dinner, finished a sketch for a new style of horseshoe, read son a story, went to bed, woke up to black-masked person cutting in his shoulder, screamed, wife and son woke up and man ran out, gold guarded in a locked box, box was opened but not smashed, no enemies, nothing strange recently. I was stumped. What was I gonna do? All the other cases I had to deal with seemed insignificant, even Little Johnny’s murder.

      “Sheriff, I’ve got some news,” Kurt said as he opened the door to my office.

      “What is it?”

      “Caroline and Peter Smith said they heard some strange noises from their neighbor’s house last night. The Oakes’ house.”

      “Anita Oakes? Anita has too good a heart to ever do anythin’ like that,” I told him matter-of-factly.

      “That’s right, but she has a son.”

      “Are you sayin’ it was Bobby Oakes? He’s too young!”

      “He’s about fifteen now. When I was that age, I was already workin’ on the river.”

      “Fifteen, huh? You’re right. Well, we’ll go down to the house for some questionin’ later tonight. Can you come after dinner?”

      “Sorry, partner, I can’t make it. Ms. Phyllis Fletcher and I have plans,” he told me, lookin’ ashamed that he couldn’t come.

      “Okay, Kurt, I’ll talk to them myself. You tell your lady I say hello now.”

      “Thanks, partner.” The skinny young fellow turned and walked out. His long brown hair was tied in a ponytail today, somethin’ I had never seen Kurt do. I thought that he must’ve been doin’ somethin’ nice with his girlfriend to fix his hair like that.

      That night I went over to the Oakes’ house. I remember the rain was really comin’ down, and the wind was blowin’ hard and cold. When I knocked on the door, Anita and her blue eyes opened it.

      “Come in,” she told me. “It’s freezin’ out there!”

      I stepped into her small house, looked around for anythin’ suspicious. The house looked normal: a few trinkets and souvenirs here and there, a rockin’ chair, a fire place, a few animal horns Bobby must’ve gotten on the wooden walls, nothing irregular. “Hello, Anita,” I said.

      “Sheriff, what a surprise! What can I do for you?

      “Well, it seems that Lewis Baker’s gold was stolen last night.”

      “What?” Her beautiful smile turned to a frown, and little wrinkles appeared on her pale forehead. But her beauty was still as strong as ever.

      “I know, it’s horrible. The Smith’s said they heard some noises comin’ from your house last night. Do you know what that’s about?”

      “No, I don’t. But is there anythin’ I can do to help? I’ve just made some tea. Come join me.” Anita walked into the rest of the small house and I followed. While she tended to the tea, I looked around more to see if anythin’ strange caught my eye. Among the little ceramic boxes and wooden dolls was a locked metal box inscribed with the words le ceneri del mio caro. I didn’t know what the heck that meant so I quickly wrote it down.

      “Whacha doin’ there?” Anita asked as she handed me a cup of tea.

      “Jus’ lookin’ around. Where’d you get all these things?” I pointed at the boxes and dolls.

      “Most of them are from my… my….” tears began to form in Anita’s eyes.

      “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

      “No, it’s fine. It’s just, they’re from Agosto, my husband. Well, not anymore. He passed on.”

      “Oh, Anita, I’m so sorry.” I reached over to her and put my hand on her knee. Her eyes, although filled with tears, began to smile with my touch. Our eyes met, and suddenly all I wanted was her. I took my hand off her knee and got back to my job.

      “So, Mr. Baker’s gold. Are you sure you don’t know nothin’ about it?” I asked.

      “Yes, I’m quite sure,”  she answered, her beautiful eyes still locked on mine.

      “Where was Bobby last night?”

      “Bobby isn’t livin’ hear right now. He’s with his cousins in Pasadena.”

      “And why’s that?”

      “Well, he wasn’t havin’ much luck on the river, so my brother said he’d take him in and teach him about horses.”

      “How long has he been gone?”

      “Just over a month.”

      We talked for about another hour about Bobby, Agosto, and Anita’s life before movin’ to San Francisco. I found out she grew up in Virginia and moved here three years ago, after Agosto died. He was Italian, and had come to Virginia to make a fortune for his family. Luckily for me, he was killed workin’ on the railroad. Unable to deal with his death, Anita moved to California.

      After our long talk, I decided to take a walk and found myself at the saloon.

      “Whisky, please,” I asked the bartender. Lookin’ around the dark, musty bar I saw all the usuals – Willy Radcliff, Dusty Thompson, even Rawhide Wolfe was there. I gen’rally like to sit with them, but that night I had too much on my mind. I remember thinkin’ about Lewis, his gold and his new scar, but Anita’s beautiful milky skin kept comin’ into my head and interruptin’ my thoughts. Suddenly, I heard her name from the table across the dark room.

      “Anita Oakes? She’s pretty. I’d like to take her out one time!” I heard Willy say, his words slurred together on account of his drunkenness.

      “Yeah, I’d like to take her out and take her home!” bragged Rawhide. Laughter exploded from the table as I stumbled across the room.

      “You boys better watch your mouths,” I told them, threateningly, my words slurred.

      “Or what?” asked Dusty, his green eyes starin’ me down. “What you got against us, Sheriff?”

      “I won’t have ya’ll talkin’ about Ms. Oakes like that, disrespectin’ her ‘nall.”

      “What’re you gonna do about it?” asked Rawhide. He clenched his dark, rough fists together.

      With that, I pulled out my gun and pointed it at the three men. Rawhide pulled out a knife and came towards me. Rubies on the handle of the knife caught my eye. They looked similar to the rubies Lewis had told me about. I shot Rawhide in the foot – my shot is always right on no matter how drunk I am. He dropped his knife and howled. I bolted out of the saloon as quickly as I could into the pourin’ rain. What just happened? I remember thinkin’ to myself. What were those rubies? Why was I protectin’ Anita? My thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

      “Sheriff? Is that you?” I turned around to see the face of Phyllis Fletcher.

      “What can I do for you, Ms. Fletcher?” I asked, soundin’ preoccupied.

      “Nothin’, I’m just on my way home from a night with the ladies. Just thought I’d say hello.”

      “You have a nice night, Ms. Fletcher.”

      “You too, Sheriff!”

      The next day, Ian Montgomery was waitin’ at my office door before I had arrived.

      “Sheriff, he got me! The gold stealin’ man! And he left his mark!” Ian rolled up his sleeve to reveal the same mark Lewis had shown me the day before.

      “Calm down and come into my office, Agnes isn’t here yet but once she gets here I’ll be sure she makes you some tea.” We stepped into my office and again I took down notes. And again, nothing abnormal happened to him the day before. But I did have a suspect: Rawhide’s fancy knife made him very suspicious.

      The next day I called Rawhide into my office for a little chat. He came in late, smellin’ of smoke and beer.

      “What do you know about the missin’ gold?” I asked him before he had a chance to sit down.

      “Well hello to you to, Sheriff. You got a nice little office here.” He sat down across from my desk.

      “Rawhide, I’m not here to make small talk. Everyone’s been talkin’ about the stolen gold, so I know you know about it. And you’ve got a knife that looks just like the one Mr. Baker saw when he was robbed.”

      “This old thang?” Rawhide took out his knife. “Picked it up at the local knife shop. I’ve seen at least twenty other men with this knife.”

      We sat there in silence for about two minutes. I believed him, but somethin’ about his attitude still made me suspicious.

      “Is that all? Can I go now, Sheriff?”

      “Yeah, but be careful. I’ve got my eye on you,” I warned him.

      A new man came in everyday that week, all with the same story and the same mark on the same place on their shoulder. I spent all my time thinkin’ about the mark and Anita. I drew and redrew the mark thousands of times in every way I could think of. But one day, I finally knew.

      It was a Thursday, and eight men had already come in to tell me about their missin’ gold. Agnes came in to the office around mid-day, bringin’ my lunch and some tea.

      “You still workin’ on that mark?” she asked me.

      “Yeah, I just can’t seem to figure it out.”

      “Let me see if I can help.” Agnes came over to my chair and looked over my shoulder. “Hm. Maybe it’s a map.”

      “What’s that?”

      “Well, it looks like two roads, doesn’t it? Two roads comin’ together?”

      “Agnes, Agnes, you’re a genius!” I stood up and hugged her. “Why didn’t I think of this before? It’s so simple!”

      “You know what it is?”

      “Of course. Thank you for all you’re help, ma’am. I think I’ll finish my lunch and take the rest of the day off.”

      That night I left my house at midnight to find what I was lookin’ for. It was rainin’ harder than it had been all that week. After ridin’ north for about twenty minutes, I hopped off my horse and tied her up so I could walk quietly. After walkin’ for about two more minutes I saw it. Two roads comin’ together that looked just like the mark. It was known as the Arlington Cross, a place people rarely went on account of the creepy feelin’ around it. I approached quietly, not knowin’ who or what was comin’. The smell of garbage flew into my nostrils and the sound of rain pounded into my ears. Suddenly I saw somethin’: a silhouette, one that I could recognize anywhere. It was diggin’ a hole right where the two roads met.

      The next day I called Kurt into my office.

      “Kurt, I figured it out. I found the gold-stealer. Couldya please get Anita Oakes and Rawhide Wolfe in here?” I asked.

      “Sure thing, partner,” he said. While he was gone, I cleaned my gun about three times. I was so excited to finish the case.

      Finally, the suspects walked in. I put my gun down and stood up, ready to put someone behind bars.

      “Thank ya’ll for comin’ in, and I’m real sorry to have been botherin’ you for the past week. Kurt Hill, you’re under arrest.”

      Everyone in the room looked at me, dumbfounded.

      “Rawhide, you may be tough, but you understand the importance of hard-earned gold. And Anita, I know you have too good a heart to do somethin’ like this. I started suspectin’ you, Kurt, the day you wore your hair in a pony tail. You put it like that cause it fits under a mask better that way. I also saw Ms. Fletcher the night you told me you were gonna be with her. But the real reason I know it’s you is cause I saw you at Arlington Cross last night, burying somethin’. I can only assume it’s gold, and that it’s not yours. You knew who not to steal from cause you knew who I suspected. I only have one question. Anita, what does the Italian on that box mean?” I handed her the piece of paper.

      “Le ceneri del mio caro? It means the ashes of my beloved. My Agosto is in there,” she answered.

      “Can we have a look?” I asked.

      With Kurt in cuffs, the four of us walked to Anita’s house. As we walked in, she took a key from around her neck and unlocked the box.

      “Here, Sheriff, just the ashes.” She handed me the box. I poured them out on her wooden floor. She gasped. But just as I thought, I found a lock pick.

      “So you were in on it! Anita Oakes, you’re under arrest too! You used this to pick the lock boxes of the victims! You knew each other back in Virginia, didn’t you? Have you guys done this before?” Silence filled the room. No one spoke. The poundin’ of the rain outside was the only noise around. Finally, Anita broke the silence.

      “Sheriff, I – I’m so sorry! It’s just – please – what about Bobby?”

      “He’s with his uncle. Right now, you and Kurt need to come with me. Rawhide, you can go. I’ll get the victims to help me with the gold.”

      Later that day I went to Arlington Cross with the eight victims. We took turns diggin’ until all of the gold had been found. A year later, nobody’s gold has been stolen yet. But the Arlington Cross mark remains on each of those eight men, a reminder of what is possible in the town of San Francisco.