For Love

Chapter 31

JASON

Jason stood at the railing of the Shamus O'Flynn, staring into the moonlight on the water. The sea breeze gently tugged at his curls that were already in disarray from a day of blustery wind. Under Jason's eyes were dark circles, a testament to long, endless nights brooding over a glass of scotch. He should have found some peace by now, but it just wouldn't come.

The sheriff knew little about Laurie himself, but he had proven helpful when he gave him the name of the doctor who had overseen Laurie's treatment in San Francisco. It had taken a lot of persuasion and scotch to get Clancey to wait a couple of days until he could finally catch the man at the hospital where he worked, but it had been worth it. The doctor hadn't had many patients like Laurie and remembered her with clarity.

"Yes, Mr. Bolt, I recall your wife well," the doctor at the hospital said. "The death of two dear friends wore on her."

"I thought there was only one woman who died in the fire?"

"Correct. Rebecca O'Malley, and a maid... I don't recall her name. Most people didn't know about the maid."

"How so?"

"Well, the judge owed Maguire a favor. Maguire didn't want to frighten people from coming to the theatre, let alone lose any staff so he asked for her death to be kept quiet. The maid didn't have any family, so it was easy to bury her quietly. They found her in the orchestra pit on top of the seats, her body broken. She had appeared to be thrown from a balcony. There was talk of trying your wife for murder, but there wasn't enough evidence. They couldn't see Mrs. Bolt having the strength to do it. Her maid was a large woman."

"My wife's not big enough to toss anyone."

"I agree."

"The sheriff said it was you that committed her to an asylum?"

The doctor shook his head. "She was hysterical, but I really didn't think it was necessary. Her brother thought otherwise, so I told the court that she might benefit from a year of quiet. Did your wife tell you about her experience in the asylum?"

"No, she didn't mention it," Jason answered. "But she's been a bit reluctant to talk about things in the past."

"I'm sure. We have one here in San Francisco, but the brother didn't want a scandal. The judge gave him custody of his sister with the order to commit her to the asylum in Stockton."

Jason watched a woman walk past the open door of the doctor's office, dreading the answer to his next question. "Did you agree with the judge's decision?"

The doctor pushed his spectacles up on his nose and looked Jason over before answering. "No. She wasn't completely incapacitated. Hysterical, yes. It was obvious something horrific had happened to her, so I thought her hysterics were understandable. Most women I know would have been in the same shape had they seen something like that. We had to give her large doses of laudanum to quiet her. But Stockton's asylum? No sir, I didn't agree with that line of treatment at all. I'd heard rumors... I don't approve of their methods, you understand. Chaining patients up and unreported deaths? That's not the sort of medicine I practice. But they don't lobotomize there, and I haven't heard of any sterilizations for women, yet. There are many institutions across the country that practice those methods of treatment, you know. In that respect, I suppose her brother did her a favor."

Jason smiled faintly. His insides shredded into a festering sickness at the images the doctor's words conjured up. "A favor," he repeated.