The Stagecoach War Read online

  As Jessie shook hands with Norman Tibbett, one of the junior officers of the bank, she thought what a nice smile he had and how perfect a goodwill ambassador he was for this bank. Being one of the principal stockholders of the Bank of San Francisco, Jessie appreciated how effective a handsome young man could be in attracting the wealth of admiring widows. Some people thought that a widow who had been left with a large inheritance would prefer to deal with a bunch of graybeards, but Jessie didn’t believe it for a minute. A young man like Norman would charm the socks off the wealthy depositors her bank was always seeking.

  “I hope we’re not too late,” Jessie said, moving past the man and heading for the conference room. “We ran into a slight obstruction—three of them, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s already history,” Ki said as they entered the plush conference room and began to shake hands with the bank directors. As always, Jessie took a seat near the head of the table beside the bank president, Mr. Friendel. Ki took his place in a chair at the opposite end of the table where he was immediately forgotten. It was a carefully chosen seating arrangement that left Ki free to observe each director closely without being too obvious. Later, when they were alone, Jessie and Ki would compare notes and impressions, and often the results would be very enlightening.

  “Now that we are all together,” Mr. Friendel said, lightly rapping a gavel on the tabletop, “I think we can begin with an open discussion of our bank’s investment strategies. Quite frankly, since Miss Starbuck’s suggestion over a year ago about the opportunities available to us in the Asian market, we have reaped an annual return of nearly twenty-five percent on our depositors’ investments.”

  “That’s wonderful!” one of the more enthusiastic directors interrupted. “The best we’ve ever done! I say we ought to—”

  “Please, Mr. Gomper,” Friendel blurted with obvious irritation, “let me finish my opening remarks.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Friendel.”

  “Now,” the bank president continued somewhat stuffily, “as I was going to say, by continuing to use the Starbuck fleet of ships and by carefully monitoring our capital investments, I see no need whatsoever to alter our investment strategy and fully expect that—”

  The door to the conference room burst open, much to Friendel’s consternation, and Norman Tibbett stuck his head inside, obviously with great reluctance. “Excuse me, Mr. Friendel, but we have rather an emergency out here!”

  “What kind of emergency?” Friendel said with complete exasperation.

  “There is a Mr. Daniel Bonaday out in the lobby and he insists that he must see Miss Jessica Starbuck right this minute.”

  “Do you know the man, Miss Starbuck?”

  “No.”

  Friendel looked pleased as he turned triumphantly to Tibbett and barked, “Tell this Bonaday fellow that an interruption right now is totally out of the question. Instruct the gentleman that he will have to wait until this afternoon when we have finished our business meeting. And don’t interrupt us for any reason again!”

  Jessie’s eyebrows arched questioningly as she looked down the table at Ki, who shrugged to indicate that the name of Daniel Bonaday meant nothing to him either.

  “Now then, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Friendel continued, “I was saying that Miss Starbuck’s father Alex, who used to be the president of this board of directors and a friend to us all, has left us with the option of renewing the lease of his ships for the Asian trade. Quite honestly, we are the real beneficiaries of his generosity, which is currently being manifested through the office of his heir and beloved daughter, Miss Jessica Starbuck. And unless any of you have contrary opinions, which I cannot imagine, I move that we renew the Starbuck leases and reward our stockholders with a dividend of—”

  “Excuse me!” roared a big-shouldered man who burst into the room with Norman hanging on his coattails. Jessie saw that the intruder was in his early sixties but still possessed great power. He had wild gray hair and a ruddy face that showed the effects of a lot of hard wear and brawling.

  “What is the meaning of this outrage?” Friendel cried.

  “Norman, evict this intruder at once!”

  Norman tried to grab the man’s thick forearm and paid for the effort by getting slung halfway across the room.

  “I’ll have my say with Miss Starbuck, by God!” the big man roared. “And none of you stuffed-shirted penguins are going to stop me!”

  Ki rose from his chair as the intruder pushed inside. Almost unnoticed, he slipped down toward Jessie, ready to jump forward and protect her should this loud newcomer be addled of mind or in any way dangerous.

  Jessie stood up and studied the man. She thought she had seen his face in a daguerrotype somewhere. “Mr. Daniel Bonaday. Have we met before?”

  The big man leaned forward with his knuckles folded on the table. He stared at her so intently that Jessie did start to wonder if the man was demented or drunk.

  “Yeah,” he said after a long time, “we have, but you were only two years old at the time. I saved your life, Miss Starbuck. But I don’t expect you to believe it and I have no proof to back my words.”

  Friendel rapped on the table. “Mr. Bonaday, this is very interesting, but would you mind—”

  “Shut up, penguin,” Bonaday rumbled ominously, his eyes never leaving Jessie’s face. “I just came all the way back from Texas seeking this young lady and I’ll not wait another moment to have a conversation with her. I demand to be heard.”

  Ki stepped closer. He seemed totally relaxed, yet Jessie knew that this was when he was most dangerous. “Sir, you do not demand anything of Miss Starbuck.”

  Bonaday threw a contemptuous backhand at Ki. If it had connected, it would have sent the much lighter man crashing against the wall. But Ki merely ducked the blow, and when Bonaday’s wrist passed over his head, he grabbed it and twisted back and up. Bonaday was thrown across the table facedown, with his arm bent up between his shoulder blades.

  “Let go of me, damn you!”

  Ki held firm with no apparent effort. “Sir,” he repeated, “I must ask you to treat a lady as she deserves to be treated. If you have a request, you may state it, but you do not demand anything.”

  “All right! I’ll ask. Now let me loose!”

  Jessie nodded and Ki stepped back, hands up, ready to parry a charge or blow. Jessie looked around the room at the directors, who appeared shaken by this unexpected turn of events.

  “Gentlemen,” she said, “in view of Mr. Bonaday’s urgency and the excellent arrangement we have between us, I suggest you vote to continue leasing ships from my fleet and I will renew the lease at the same price and terms as before. Is this agreeable?”

  Friendel nodded vigorously and his was the signal that sent all their heads to wagging in acceptance of the deal.

  “Good,” Jessie said. “Now, if you will excuse us and close the door behind you, Ki and I will get to the bottom of this pressing matter that sent Mr. Bonaday all the way to my Circle Star Ranch in Texas. Good day, gentlemen.”

  They were not used to being dismissed so summarily, and Jessie would not have done it under less pressing circumstances. When the door had closed, Jessie turned her attention to the agitated man who stood glaring at Ki as he rubbed his twisted arm. “I don’t know how the deuce you did that, Chinaman, but I wouldn’t try it again.”

  “He is not a Chinaman!” Jessie said hotly. “Ki is half Japanese and half American, and it was not by accident that you found yourself facedown and immobilized. Ki is my friend, and if you want to deal with me you’ll deal with him as an equal, or I’ll have him pitch you out of this room on your ear!”

  Bonaday was taken aback by her anger. “Whoa there,” he said. “I can see that I’ve ruffled your feathers and made a big mistake. But that’s the story of my life.”

  Jessie relaxed. “You said that you had once saved my life. Tell me the circumstances.”

  “All right. It was right here in San Fr
ancisco and you were just two years old. I know that because you were taken out by a nanny to do some birthday-party shopping. Your father was tied up with some business and so he asked me to escort you and your nanny about town. I was happy to oblige because I owed Alex more than I could ever repay. You see, I once had a couple of ships myself, but they were destroyed in a typhoon off the Japans. All but one. I tried to compete against your father and the others but I didn’t have the financial backing anymore. My credit was destroyed and I was almost bankrupt. Your father took care of that and got me back on my feet again. Later on, I sold out to him and he paid me more than what I had was worth. He was my friend. Best one I ever knew.”

  “I see.” Jessie frowned. “You still haven’t told me anything about how you saved my life.”

  “There’s not a lot to tell. As we was going down Market Street, some men who recognized the nanny as being employed by Mr. Starbuck got the fine idea of kidnapping you for a ransom. They tried, and I killed three of them and took a bullet in the arm for doing so. Your nanny was not so fortunate and was killed instantly.”

  Jessie’s eyes dropped to the floor. “That much is true. Her name was Mildred. I don’t remember her, of course. But my father was quite upset and still spoke of her years later.”

  “She was a fine woman. She stepped in front of the baby buggy to shield you from harm, and when one of the men tried to grab you, she gave her life stopping him. She also gave me an extra second or two to settle the matter.”

  Bonaday rolled up his left sleeve to reveal a scar that still looked angry and ran from his wrist halfway to his elbow. “Shattered the bone, but I figured it was a small price to save Alex Starbuck’s only child. I’d do it all over again in the same way.”

  “Is there anyone who will verify your story?”

  Bonaday thought it over for a long moment. “Mr. Friendel’s father will if he is still alive.”

  Jessie knew the banker’s father and that he was alive. “I’ll check on it. Assuming you are telling us the truth, how can I return that long-ago debt owed by my father?”

  “Money. I need money.”

  Jessie sighed. Of course—she should have guessed.

  “But not as a gift,” he added quickly. “Hell, no! And when you get right to the honest heart of things, you don’t owe me even a loan. Like I said, I owed your father everything when it happened. The score is dead even.”

  “How much money do you need, Mr. Bonaday? And for what purpose?”

  “I need about thirty thousand dollars to keep my stage line operating until I can stand on my own two feet again. I have to be able to stay in business long enough to beat the men that are trying to ruin me.”

  “Where is your stage line?” Jessie knew that stage lines all over the West were going broke or being replaced by railroads.

  “It runs between Reno, Nevada and Bishop, California, down along the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevadas. I service all the small farming and mining towns up and down the eastern slope. Used to be damned profitable until they started sabotaging my coaches and stations—driving off my horses and robbing the ore shipments. Doesn’t take too many lost shipments of bullion to ruin a man.”

  “Who is doing it?” Ki asked.

  Bonaday turned to include them both. “It’s hard to say exactly. If it was just one or two men, I’d have killed them long ago and faced the consequences. But it ain’t. It’s a whole damn conspiracy that’s out to ruin me and my family. I got a son that’s been shot at and a daughter that don’t have enough sense to know who’s a friend or an enemy. I need money and I need help. And I needed it yesterday.”

  Bonaday took a deep breath. “They started their own stagecoach line in competition with mine. They’re offering discount rates that are below the break-even point, but even that I can stand awhile. What I can’t take is the way folks are losing confidence in my company. They get robbed and they switch stage lines in a hurry.”

  “Hire more shotgun guards,” Jessie said.

  “I tried that. They either buy them off or scare them off. Either way, I can’t get men to ride my stages anymore.”

  Jessie glanced at Ki. “Why don’t you go pay Mr. Friendel’s father a nice visit?” she asked him. “When you get back, we can all decide what to do next.”

  Bonaday smiled. “So you’re not going to take my word for it, huh?”

  “It pays to check the facts, Mr. Bonaday.”

  “That’s the girl!” He chuckled. “Now you’re talking like Alex Starbuck’s daughter. He was careful, too, your father was. He’d have checked my story out the same as you will. And when he discovered I was telling the truth, he’d have done anything he could to help.”

  Jessie nodded. “And so will I, Mr. Bonaday. So will I.”

  The man grinned hopefully. “That’s what I figured from the very beginning, Miss Starbuck. I was betting everything I have left—which is damned little—that you had the same kind of character as your father. I reckon we’ll be leaving for Reno tomorrow, huh?”

  Jessie watched Ki pass quickly through the lobby. She had a hunch that the senior Mr. Friendel would substantiate Bonaday’s story right down to the smallest detail. She and Ki had not intended to go to work so soon and had even talked about taking a trip to the beautiful and refreshing Sandwich Islands. Now it looked as if they might be heading into the teeth of a storm over in Reno.

  Funny, Jessie decided it sounded a whole lot more interesting anyway.

  Chapter 2

  Ki sat in the parlor of Mr. Adderly Friendel’s two-story mansion while the butler went to inform the elderly man of his arrival. The room was richly furnished with Oriental jade carvings and oil paintings that Ki was sure had been a gift of the late Alex Starbuck. Until the elder Mr. Friendel’s retirement as president of the Bank of San Francisco, he had been one of the most powerful financial figures on the West Coast. Alex Starbuck and Adderly Friendel had been close friends and had enjoyed years of mutually profitable business that had left the Friendel family among the richest in the city. Ki had met Adderly Friendel once before and remembered him as being a man who wasted little time on small talk.

  “Ki,” the ex-banker whispered as he appeared in the doorway. “Good to see you after so many years.”

  Ki arose from the overstuffed chair and was barely able to hide his shock, because the last time they had met, Friendel had been in good health. Now, however, the elder man was stooped over a cane and his face was gray with an unhealthy yellowish cast. Friendel hobbled forward and when he extended his hand, it was thin and without strength. Ki looked into the pain-filled, watery eyes of a man he knew was in his last year of life.

  “It’s good to see you too, sir. It’s been seven years.”

  “Eight,” Friendel said decisively enough to leave no doubt that at least his mental facilities were still in good working order. “It was the last time I saw Alex Starbuck alive. The bastards finally got to him, didn’t they.”

  “Yes. We all miss him.”

  “There will never be another man his equal. Alex was a financial genius. He did things instinctively and I never knew his instincts to fail him. A genius in the truest sense of capitalism.”

  Friendel coughed and his body was racked by spasms. When he recovered, he had to be helped into an easy chair by his butler before he spoke again. “I hear that his daughter, Jessica, is all that he would have wanted her to be.”

  “She is, sir.”

  “Sit down, Ki. Can I have the butler bring us something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Friendel nodded to his butler. “Ernest, two large brandies. If Ki does not drink his, I will see to it myself that it does not go to waste. Cuts the pain of old age, you know.”

  Ki nodded. He had known at first glance that something was eating away the insides of Adderly Friendel, and the deep lines of pain in the man’s wasted face merely confirmed this diagnosis.

  “What can I do for you?” Friendel asked, gripping the arms of h
is chair as if he were afraid of toppling forward to the floor.

  “Does the name Daniel Bonaday mean anything to you, sir?”

  “Of course. He used to be quite prominent on Knob Hill. A small-time shipping magnate and a big-time gambler. That man went through one fortune after the next. Spent at least a couple of hundred thousand dollars on lawyers to get rid of a succession of grasping wives. Daniel Bonaday was a very colorful man.”

  “A good one?”

  “Good?” Friendel repeated, his thin brows arching in a question. “That depends on your definition of the word. He was brave and honest, if that is what you mean. He always paid his debts. When he left town, there were some who sighed relief and others who figured San Francisco had lost a real character.”

  Ki frowned. He had not wanted to reveal Bonaday’s claims, but now it seemed he might have to. “Did he and Mr. Starbuck know each other well?”

  “Damn right they did! Those two once got in a fistfight down on the wharf and there are still a few men who claim it was the greatest brawl they had ever seen in their lives. Those two fought for two solid hours! The donnybrook ended in a draw when they both went into the bay and Alex discovered that Daniel Bonaday couldn’t swim a stroke. Bonaday was still fighting, though!”

  “He must have been quite a man.”

  “You say ‘must have been.’ Is Bonaday dead too?”

  “No. In fact,” Ki continued, “he is the reason why I’m here. He needs help and claims that he once saved Jessie from being kidnapped. Is that true?”

  “Sure is! Made the headlines of the papers. You might still be able to find copies in the newspaper archives if you search around.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Miss Starbuck merely wanted me to confirm the story. I think we’ll help him out of some difficulty he’s having over in Nevada.”