A Race to Splendor (45 page)

“Well, it worked with my editors at
Collier’s
,” London noted, adding, “here I am, all the way from Sonoma.”

“Is that bride not the ugliest creature you ever laid eyes on?” Hopper said pointing across the room to a massive collection of white tulle lurking at the ballroom’s entrance.

London laughed. “And tell me, please. How are we supposed to describe her
in print?”

“Blushing,” Hopper said. “Always safe to call ’em blushing, no matter what they look like.” He glanced in the other direction and noted an attractive woman, gowned in a stunning, low-cut yellow silk dress, pausing half way down the grand staircase. He took another sip of his champagne and gazed at her with admiration.

“Well, well… will you look over there, London.” He gestured with his glass in Amelia Bradshaw’s direction. “I happen to know that there’s a woman whom I would refer to in print as a real looker—
and
a damn interesting one at that.”

***

Amelia hesitated on the final step, her eyes riveted on J.D. He was attired in starched white tie and tails, surrounded not only by his mother and Wing Lee, but by the reform mayor, Dr. Edward R. Taylor, and a host of city leaders, all of who were offering him their hearty felicitations. Dr. Angus McClure, serving as J.D.’s best man, stood to one side, appearing distinctly uncomfortable in his dress clothes. Shou Shou had just scooped up Wing Lee, undoubtedly on a mission to put the child to bed.

From Amelia’s angle, a pained expression played across J.D.’s features as well-wishers approached, clapped him on the back and shoulders, and joyfully moved on toward the free wine offered, buffet style, on linen-draped tables positioned along the ballroom’s side walls.

Amelia intently watched her erstwhile lover. The scars above his eyebrows had faded and now lent his tanned face character, as if the faint marks remained an outward symbol of the suffering all San Franciscans had endured. She thought of her own scars, which were camouflaged by the few strands of her hair not captured in her upswept Gibson. And then there were other wounds that couldn’t be masked so easily…

She remained rooted to the spot, barely ten feet from J.D., willing him to turn and see her, and within seconds he did. They exchanged glances—his startled; hers, she hoped, expressionless. She threaded the rest of her way down the stairs, the space between them telescoping to less than a foot.

“You came,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving her face. “You haven’t left for France, yet.”

Amelia extended no greeting but reached into her handbag and retrieved five playing cards. She displayed them inches from his starched white shirtfront. First she showed him the backs of the cards where his initials and the words
The Bay View Hotel
could clearly be read, despite the damaged edges. Then, she turned them over and fanned them across the palm of her kid glove.

“May I speak to you a moment, Mr. Thayer?”

J.D. glanced at the cards and stared at her wordlessly for a few moments. He looked at an astonished Angus McClure and then pointed to a private corner near a cluster of potted palms. “Over there,” he directed.

Amelia didn’t acknowledge any of the dignitaries in their midst; she merely followed the prospective groom to a secluded spot and prepared to deliver the speech that had been taking shape in her mind for several days.

“You may have seen these five cards before, but even if you haven’t, the truth is my father played this royal flush in
this
hotel on the day of the quake and won back the Bay View property, fair and square.”

J.D. gazed at the cards but made no response.

“Inspect them very carefully, J.D.” She pointed to the ace, queen, and ten of diamonds. “As I told you twice before, these three were still in my father’s hand when I found him pinned under the gaming table.” She displayed the jack and king. “I found these two totally by accident, wedged into the right-side pocket of the dress trousers my father was wearing on the night of the quake when he played five-card stud at your gambling club.”

“Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“I only found the final two cards on the morning I left here.” She pointed again to the ace, queen, and ten of diamonds. “As one might expect, these original three are rather worse for wear, having been in Father’s hand when he fell to the ground in the quake. The other two that he’d managed to stuff into his pocket when the shaking started are in perfect condition, as you can see.” She gazed directly into his dark eyes. “I wore the trousers for the first time the morning of my final inspection of the property. How else would I have this five-card sequence of diamonds with these distinctive marks and with the Bay View’s name on the back—and your initials—if I weren’t telling the truth?”

“I believe you.”

Startled he didn’t dispute her claim, she searched his face, his features now an expressionless mask.

“Good,” she managed finally, taken off guard by his frank admission, “because what I’m presenting to you is the truth.”

J.D. said, “I saw Henry Bradshaw lay down four sequential diamonds, and just as he was turning over the fifth card—as I told you before—the world turned upside down.”

Amelia allowed her hand to fall by her side to keep him from seeing that it had started to tremble. “J.D., I don’t know whether I believe your version of how much you saw or not. I don’t even expect you to hand me the deed to the hotel.”

“What
do
you want, then, Amelia?” he asked quietly.

“I want you to do the honorable thing and vest me as an equal, legal partner in this hotel we built together. I want you to pay my mother and me a commensurate, annual portion of your profits from this day forward. As I indicated in my note, I am leaving on the train for New York and thence on to Paris. However, I wish to know
now
—this very instant, before your marriage, and in writing—that both my mother and I may live in reasonable comfort for the rest of our lives, partaking of the profits earned by this hotel. Certainly, the gambler who was my father owes it to her, and I want that debt to be paid by
you
.”

“And what will you do if I don’t agree to this plan?”

Amelia gazed at his shuttered eyes, fully prepared for this moment.

“If you chose to fight me on this, I shall instruct my attorney, Mr. Damler, to sue you and put a lien on this hotel, asserting my
full
ownership by virtue of my inheriting through my late grandfather what my deceased father won back. I will compel Mr. Kemp to testify about that night. I shall also complain to Mr. Spreckels and to the Secret Service about the bribes you paid to get your gambling club built swiftly while I was in France, unable to defend my property, and how you continued to dispense graft with the result that the boilers in your second hotel blew up, endangering all of Nob Hill.”

“And how do you suppose to prove that?”

Ignoring his question, she waved the cards in front of him once again.

“Furthermore, I shall insinuate you continued to bribe city officials through your ongoing relationship with Kemp, your future father-in-law,” she said, feeling a ball of anger in the pit of her chest expand until she thought it might burst through the bodice of her low-cut gown. “Not only
that
,” she added, swearing to herself should would not allow her voice to waver as tears threatened to well up, “I will grant an interview to Mr. Hopper and Mr. London, who are both here tonight, to tell the story of how you and Kemp attempted to cheat a family of poor,
defenseless
women out of their inheritance. It should make an especially interesting feature, given that everyone in San Francisco knows that
I
have designed and supervised the construction of your trophy.”

“You? Defenseless?” A slow smile spread across J.D.’s face. “That’s what I love about you, Amelia. You’re just like me. You just don’t give up.”

“I am not at
all
like you, Mr. Thayer!”

“Oh yes, you are. You like to win.”

Amelia was sorely tempted to slap the grin off J.D.’s face when Ezra Kemp suddenly elbowed his way through the crowd of curious onlookers. Following in his wake was a towering apparition clad in yards of white tulle and lace that did nothing to soften her athletic shoulders or bony hips. And trailing Matilda, dressed in a frothy pink silk evening gown, her devoted friend Emma Stivers appeared equally astounded to see the groom in a private
tête-à-tête
with a woman who was not the bride.

Kemp was livid, glaring first at J.D. and then at Amelia. “You said Amelia Bradshaw was on her way to France!” he bellowed, turning more heads.

“I thought she was,” J.D. replied in a low, even voice. “She must enjoy weddings. Show him the royal flush, Amelia.”

With her gloved fingertips, she again spread the cards into a fan.

“What about it, Kemp?” J.D. asked. “Want to provide Amelia the details how you tried to cheat her father
and
me that night?”

Chapter 35

Jake? Joe?” Kemp called over his shoulder, but the milling crowd slowed the progress of the two burly henchmen. Meanwhile J.D. began to speak to Kemp almost casually.

“You thought
you
would produce a hand that night that would make the Bay View yours, didn’t you, Kemp? But around five a.m., Miss Bradshaw,” he continued, his voice increasing in volume and now addressing Amelia and the surrounding throng, “I insisted on exchanging the stacked deck Mr. Kemp, here, had been using all night with one from my personal cupboard. See?” he said, seizing Amelia’s gloved hand to turn the cards down, “here are my initials.”

“That’s preposterous!” Kemp thundered. “You had dozens of decks with “JDT
”
printed on them in the hotel. She has no proof that this hand came from the particular deck you unwrapped at five a.m.”

“You must admit, Ezra, the earthquake and fire that destroyed the hotel that day improves her odds of being right.”

“Prove it!” Kemp challenged her.

“No,
you
prove it,” Amelia intervened, turning to glare directly at Kemp. “Produce just
one
other deck like this.” She was so filled with fury she had to clasp her hands together to keep from reaching inside her handbag for her pistol. “There’ve been
two
fires that swept this hotel, burning everything to a crisp, and one of them was probably engineered by you, Mr. Kemp. So, simply
show
me a surviving deck of cards that came from the old Bay View. I dare you!”

Kemp pointed a trembling finger at her. “She had the run of the place while you were building the first hotel, J.D. She probably found a cache of old playing cards in a safe, or someone from Oakland kept a deck as a souvenir, and now she’s concocting this larcenous allegation—”

Amelia turned to confront the man who towered over her. “You
saw
my father’s winning hand,” she practically shouted at Kemp, waving the royal flush inches from his face. “He told me on his deathbed that you definitely knew that he had played these cards because you sat right
next
to him!”

“Then, why, missy, if you supposedly had these cards, didn’t you tell anyone before tonight?”

“Because, Mr. Kemp,” she said, narrowing her glance to look him straight in the eye, “until a few days ago, as I’d earlier told Mr. Thayer, I had only three cards—the ace, queen, and ten of diamonds. I’d retrieved them from my father’s hand where he lay crushed in the rubble of the old hotel. He’d been abandoned by
you
when you fled the scene that terrible morning without offering anyone help—even including Mr. Thayer here, who was injured nearly as seriously as Henry Bradshaw!”

She separated out the jack and king of diamonds and held them up for the benefit of the crowd that pressed ever nearer.

“And then, through an astounding turn of events on Friday, last,” she continued loudly, “I happened to put my hand into the pocket of the very trousers my father had been wearing on the night of the quake, and discovered
these
two cards from the same deck. He’d managed to stuff them into his clothing when he dove under the table that, seconds later, crushed his back when the ceiling caved in on top of it.”

She shoved the cards under Kemp’s nose.

“Take a good look, Mr. Kemp. My father
died
because of his injuries that night. These cards have returned to
haunt
you, sir.” She fanned all five cards in her palm once again, displaying them for the rubbernecking throng. Aunt Margaret, Julia Morgan, and Amelia’s other women friends, plus Donaldina Cameron, stood on the grand staircase, watching her in frozen silence.

“
A royal flush
,” Amelia pronounced, enunciating each consonant for the benefit of reporters Hopper and London. “A rare event, by any standard. Drawn by my father, Henry Bradshaw, at Mr. Thayer’s former gambling club on
this
site in a winner-take-all poker game at five-thirteen in the morning of April eighteenth,
1906!”

Amelia could hear the crowd murmur and J.D. begin to chuckle.

“Isn’t it the perfect irony?” he said to Kemp, who appeared close to having a stroke. “Henry Bradshaw had us both beat, Ezra. Can you feature that? You have to admit it. Amelia here holds the cards that prove—”

Just then, Kemp roughly slapped the cards out of Amelia’s hand. The roomful of people gasped as all five fluttered to the floor.

“Henry Bradshaw was a known drunkard and a liar. Now a
dead
liar, fortunately.” Kemp jerked his head in the direction of Kelly, Kavanaugh, and Spitz, who, by this time, had burrowed their way to the first tier of people surrounding the principal players in the high drama.

Amelia heard her own involuntary gasp at the close proximity of the men who had rape or murder in mind when the midnight marauders attacked the Chinese laborers months before. The night seven-year-old Foo was beaten to death.

“Jake! Dick!” Kemp ordered. “Take her out of here.
Now!
”

Rigid with fury, Amelia reached into her handbag and withdrew her pearl-handled weapon. At the same moment, J.D. pulled back his arm and released a tremendous punch to Ezra Kemp’s jaw, toppling him to the floor like a pile of lumber.

Just then, the sound of a gunshot ricocheted through the ballroom. Women screamed and men ducked for cover. The hulking figure of Jake Kelly lunging for Amelia halted in his tracks, unmarked by Amelia’s shot that had lodged harmlessly in the beautifully polished parquet floor. Even so, a terrified Kelly spun in place and hurriedly melted into the crowd, followed by Dick Spitz and Joe Kavanaugh, running in zigzag courses to catch up with him.

In the middle of the uproar, J.D. leaned down and retrieved the five playing cards from the floor and then stood to his full height. Addressing the wide-eyed circle of dignitaries and wedding guests, he declared in stentorian tones.

“It’s quite all right, everybody! No harm done. Fortunately, Miss Bradshaw here is a tad nearsighted and therefore a terrible shot, so no one got hurt.” He gently seized Amelia’s weapon from her trembling hand and stuck the small pistol into a pocket of his dress jacket. “In case anyone was wondering, though, this wedding is
canceled
. But, by all means, let the party continue!”

Stunned silence greeted this announcement. Meanwhile, J.D. smiled warmly at Matilda, who beamed back, an unmistakable expression of relief written across her angular features. Next to her, Emma Stivers whirled around and the two women embraced. He turned to reassure his mother, who appeared shaken but calm.

“Please, Mayor Taylor… everybody,” J.D. loudly addressed the crowd, “stay and drink the champagne, eat the marvelous food prepared by our chefs, dance the night away. And
do
enjoy the view of the bay on the lovely moonlight this evening. The
genuine
fireworks should commence at around nine o’clock.”

He nodded briskly at a couple of doormen who had rushed to the ballroom at the sound of gunshots. “Will the members of my staff please show Mr. Kemp to his room?” he requested, pointing to Ezra’s prone, unconscious figure.

He paused, and the ballroom grew deathly silent. With a grin spreading across his features he declared in stentorian tones, “Amelia Hunter Bradshaw and James Diaz Thayer hereby declare the Bay View Hotel officially open for business!”

A rousing cheer went up as J.D. leaned toward the head bellman and said under his breath, “Tony, take Miss Bradshaw’s weapon, along with the Winton, and get the other bellmen to help you. Escort Mr. Kemp to the next Sausalito ferry and see that he boards it. Remain on the wharf until the boat is at least halfway across the bay. Understood?”

Kemp was speedily conveyed from the ballroom and J.D. signaled for the musicians to take up their stringed instruments and attack Mozart once again. A low murmur among the astonished throng soon swelled into a cacophony of explosive chattering. Waiters began circulating with more champagne and hors’ d’oeuvres, and within minutes, the party was once again in full swing. Meanwhile, Hopper and London stood to one side, scribbling furiously into their reporters’ notebooks.

Amelia winced when J.D. grabbed her hand in an iron grip. “Come with me,” he said. “I have a few things left to say to you.”

“As do
I
!” Amelia retorted.

***

J.D. and Amelia didn’t exchange a word as they rode the elevator to the basement floor. Once inside J.D.’s office, he locked the door and gestured for her to take a seat. Amelia chose to remain standing, though, while J.D. sat in his leather chair.

“On the morning of the quake,” he said, “here’s what I saw. Your father began to put down a series of cards on the table, face up. I certainly was aware that he was on his way to a royal flush.”

Amelia inhaled a deep breath and slowly took her seat. “What else did you see?”

“As you know, we were playing five-card stud. Drawing a royal flush is a one-in-a-million thing.”

“But it happens.”

“In all my years of gambling, I’ve seen only one.”

“My father’s.”

“No. One other. I was barely eighteen.”

She pointed to the five cards J.D. had put on the desk. “Well, now you’ve seen your second.”

Without agreeing, he said, “As I told you, I saw your father begin to turn over the fifth card just as the first shock hit. I heard him shout ‘Hot damn!’ but I never clearly saw that last card.” Amelia narrowed her gaze. “At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for fifteen months.”

She sank into the chair opposite J.D., silenced by the effect this equivocal revelation had on her. Finally, she replied, “Although what you’ve just said bolsters my case, I cannot tell you how disappointing it is that you knew much more about that night than you ever had the decency to tell me.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “And you have every right to feel betrayed. Why would your father have shouted ‘Hot damn!’ if his luck hadn’t changed?”

“Exactly! Yet, the night you and I made love, J.D., I asked you if you’d seen the five cards. You said, ‘I didn’t see much of anything at that moment.’” She regarded him steadily across his desk. “You simply lied to me, J.D.”

“You asked if I’d seen what your father held in his
hand
—and I hadn’t. Not all five cards. Not clearly. I had only a second’s glimpse of the four before he laid the last one on the table at the moment the rumbling began. As I said, the quake hit just as I heard him shout.”

“That’s splitting hairs, J.D. You gave no details of any of this on the night you shared my bed.”

“It was
my
bed, if you’ll recall. Sears and Roebuck’s finest.” When Amelia didn’t smile, he continued somberly, “I know it sounds a very lame excuse at this juncture, but the night you and I became lovers, Amelia, I’d have said or done almost anything to keep you next to me.”

Amelia pounded her gloved fist on his desk. “You prevaricated to get what you wanted! How will I ever know now, if you lied about this because you wanted
me
…
or
just my body… or you simply wanted to keep the hotel under your thumb?”

He paused. “I am an imperfect man, Amelia, as well as a man who loves you very much. Before I knew you, I fought and schemed and put up with your father’s drinking and recklessness and Kemp’s double-dealing for months. And when I survived that earthquake and escaped that fire and recovered from a punctured lung, I swore I would bring this hotel back to life one day. Your father’s
possible
winning hand stood in the way in those chaotic days following the quake. Back then I wasn’t really sure he’d actually drawn it and there was no proof of it anymore, so I pushed it out of my mind.”

“You lied,” she repeated softly. “You lied by omission. To
me
.”

“I had just begun to fall in love with you and I didn’t want the issue of who owned the hotel to stand between us. I was a very confused
hombre
the morning after we were together, believe me.”

Amelia was torn between wanting to believe him and thinking about leopards never changing their spots. “But the hotel wasn’t yours
or
my father’s to play cards with in the first place,” she reminded him. “It’s always belonged to my mother and me. My lawsuit—which I lost because you secured a crooked judge to hear the case—made that very clear!”

“In the last months, I began to see all this from your point of view, but by then I’d invested every cent I had in this place. Fifteen months ago, though, I just didn’t think of it in that light. And I didn’t really know on the night we made love what I know now. I didn’t really know
you
. I made love, but I didn’t
know
love. Not like now.”