Chapter 10
Rosalind hurried down the east staircase, careful not to trip on the hem of her skirt as she rounded the landing.
She was never late, but here she was, running almost five minutes behind because she’d ordered her lady’s maid to take extra care with her hair.
She couldn’t arrive at the first library committee meeting looking like a girl without a single idea in her head.
She needed to present herself as a polished professional woman.
One who had ideas worth listening to. Otherwise she’d never get the committee to agree to set up a temporary library while they made arrangements for a more permanent one—and she’d never be able to get them to agree to name the library after her family either.
Oh, she hoped that last part wouldn’t be too hard. Her father would be furious if the library ended up named after a different patron.
She reached the lower hall, then straightened herself into a more dignified posture and slowed her steps lest she get in trouble for racing past her father’s office.
The smell of pipe smoke drifted from beneath the heavy wooden door. She was about to knock and then poke her head inside, just to let him know she was leaving, but the sound of her uncle speaking caused her to pause.
“. . . I told the customs office those contracts were already spoken for,” he was saying. “By the time the Amoses get wind of it, they’ll have nothing left to bid on. And that’s after I canceled three of the ship commission contracts earlier this week that the previous governor had given them.”
Rosalind’s hand dropped. The Amoses? Why were her father and uncle discussing them? Her family had already done enough to make the Amoses’ lives miserable.
Her father spoke next, and she leaned closer to the door so as not to miss anything. “Just how much money do you think the loss of those ship commissions will cost the Amoses?”
“Ten thousand a year for each of them, I’d think.
So they’ve already lost three that would have been in their revenue predictions, then an additional three that I’m not even letting them know about until we have another bid accepted.
That leaves us with sixty thousand total in lost revenue, maybe more. ”
Her father let out a deep chuckle. “That’s a nice, large figure. It might not be enough to bankrupt them just yet. But it’s a start.”
Rosalind fisted her hands at her side. She was so tired of this. Why was her father always looking for a way to harass the Amoses? They were the kindest, most upstanding family in all of Sitka.
Or at least, that was how it seemed from her perspective.
She didn’t know them very well. Being friends was impossible considering how much her father hated them.
But she knew enough to tell that they were much different from her father.
That was part of why she’d gone to Yuri and asked for help with her letters.
“Your favorite Marshal paid me a visit today.” Uncle Simon’s voice filtered through the door again.
A quiet clink followed, the sound of glass against glass, likely her father pouring himself brandy from the decanter. “Don’t tell me Hibbs wants more money.”
Her breath froze in her lungs. Were they talking about what she thought? Bribing the Marshal?
“You guessed that rather easily.” Dryness crept into her uncle’s tone.
“He always wants more money.” A soft thunk sounded. If she had to guess, her father had just set his snifter on the desk.
“He had a rather long list of why we should pay him more.”
“How much is he asking this time?”
“An extra hundred a month.”
Rosalind’s stomach tightened. Yes, that’s exactly what they were talking about, bribing the only lawman in Sitka and the one Marshal who was in charge of the entirety of Alaska.
There was only one other lawman in Alaska, and that was Yuri’s brother-in-law Jonas Redding.
But he lived in Juneau, and he worked under Marshal Hibbs as a Deputy Marshal.
She’d heard rumors that Marshal Hibbs was on her father’s payroll, but no one could ever prove anything. People just assumed the Marshal was being paid off when charges against her father got dropped after a few months of an investigation that stalled.
Two summers ago, her father had been investigated for falsifying the navigational charts that the ship captains used.
The incorrect charts had led to numerous ships running aground or hitting rocks in the islands of Southeast Alaska.
The Marshal had dropped all charges against her father last year and instead charged some clerk with the Revenue Cutter Service for making the mistake.
Before that, it looked as though her father might have paid men to kidnap the youngest Amos boy, Ilya, who had been around ten, but that time Marshal Hibbs hadn’t even tried to charge her father. He’d pressed charges against the men who did the actual kidnapping and nothing more.
“That old fool just keeps getting pricier and pricier.” Her father’s voice took on a sharp edge. “Pay him for now, but maybe it’s time we start thinking about a less expensive way to protect ourselves from the law.”
“Those were my thoughts exactly,” her uncle drolled.
Rosalind swallowed. She didn’t want to think about what that meant. In fact, she didn’t want to think about what any of this meant. More suffering for the Amoses, more money to a crooked snake who had no business being a lawman, and likely more power for her father and uncle.
She was so tired of all of this. Would the list of crimes never stop?
How could it when the law refused to investigate her father?
But what if there was a way to force the law to investigate her father? What if she found some kind of evidence that would see her father put in prison for good? Something that not even Marshal Hibbs could ignore?
Or better yet, something that incriminated both her father and Marshal Hibbs, and maybe even her uncle.
Her father kept track of every penny spent, both for the Alaska Commercial Company and for their personal family Finnances. If he kept meticulous records of those things, then he would also keep a record of the bribe money he paid to Marshal Hibbs—and anyone else he had a need to bribe.
What if she found that ledger? What if she not just found it but gave it to Yuri to give to his brother-in-law, the Deputy Marshal? That would be enough to get her father and uncle and the Marshal arrested, put on trial, and sent to prison.
And after that . . .
Her throat thickened. She tried to imagine what Sitka might be like without her father lurking in the shadows, trying to manipulate every last shipping regulation or law to his benefit.
She tried to imagine how life might feel for the Amoses once they didn’t need to worry about her father trying to ruin them.
She tried to imagine what her own life would be like without her father looking over her shoulder.
She could move her money freely, giving however much money she pleased to whatever charities she wished without needing to be sneaky about it.
She could leave Sitka and go somewhere she wasn’t constantly reminded of her father’s presence.
She could maybe even look for a husband who would love and care about her the way Mikhail Amos loved Bryony, rather than find herself trapped in a marriage to whatever business associate her father thought most advantageous.
Her father and uncle were still talking behind the heavy wooden door, but she didn’t hear a word of it. She was too busy thinking about what life would look like once her father and uncle were in prison.
But first she had to find proof of her father bribing the Marshal. Her father wouldn’t store a ledger like that somewhere it could easily be found. Could she do it? What if her father caught her snooping?
Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
The verse flashed through her head, and she straightened. Was this what the Bible was talking about? Maybe she needed to trust God to keep her safe while she searched her father’s things. After all, she would be searching them for an honorable reason.
And it might take her a long time to find the evidence she needed. But even if it took six months, if the evidence was good enough, she would eventually be free of her father—and the Amos family would be free right along with her.
Surely that was worth the risk of her father discovering what she was doing.
Rosalind could barely concentrate as she entered the old governor’s mansion for the library committee meeting a quarter hour later.
All she could think about was where she’d search first for evidence.
The most obvious place to start was her father’s study, but that would also be the hardest to search, because her father was always in there, and the servants would think it odd if they found her in the office without her father present.
She stumbled on the grand staircase that led to the second floor where the meeting room was located, then forced herself to take a deep breath and focus on the familiar building rather than the ideas in her head.
The library committee meeting was being held in the same building that also housed the governor’s office, the offices for the Revenue Cutter Service, the Alaskan branch of the Department of the Interior, the Marshal’s office, and a number of other Alaskan agencies.
When Sitka had been part of Russian America, the governor alone had lived here, and it had come to be known as the governor’s mansion. The rulers of Russian America had all been men of either noble or high-ranking military backgrounds, and only a mansion would do for such a figure.
The Americans, on the other hand, had turned the grand house into an administrative building that included a jail in the basement.