Chapter 15 Sacramento Wax Museum
In 1885, Sacramento was on the main line of the interstate railway. Ben Snow also took the train, accompanied by Seymour Dodge, and arrived here.He had never been to California before, and he had never visited a big city like Sacramento.He was only twenty-six at the time, and the absurd rumor that he might be Billy the Kid still haunted him.
He knew Billy was dead, shot by Pat Garrett in 1881, but in the West, if news spread, it was slow.It took eleven days in Washington to learn that Custer had been defeated at the Battle of Little Bighorn, and that a year after Billy the Kid died in New Mexico, a wanted bill was still printed in Las Vegas.A shootout between a bandit and a sheriff is legendary, and myths always travel faster than facts.
Seymour Dodge was a myth-maker.A slender man with a beard that makes him look older than he is, he approaches Ben in a Carson City coffee shop with an unusual proposal. "Come with me to Sacramento," he suggested, "and I'll pay you for the train and hotel room, and I'll give you another hundred dollars—and you'll only have to work two days."
"I'm not a shooter," Ben told him.He felt uncomfortable under the man's unblinking gaze.
"Didn't say you were. But you know the shooters—you hang out with them. I can tell by the way you wear the pouch. Low enough for a quick draw."
"I'm fast," Ben admits grudgingly, "and hits the nail on the head."
Seymour Dodge bit off the cap of a cigar, struck a match, and lit it. "Meet Billy the Kid?" he asked casually. "You're about his age."
"Never seen him."
"Where's Pat Garrett and White Earp? Where's the James brothers?"
"never seen it."
"But you know others like them," Dodge said with some disappointment, "just what I needed. I bought a wax museum in Sacramento—the Turner Wax Museum—and I'm going to add a famous western policeman. The long and bandit section. I need some advice on clothing, the way a man should carry a gun, the way he should wear a hat, and the style of boots."
"I think I can help with that," Ben agreed.
"Good. You can put your horse in the stable here and ride it when you get back. The train is only a hundred and thirty-five miles. It won't take long."
For Ben Snow, the whole trip and seeing Sacramento for the first time was full of surprises, especially the state capitol sitting in the sprawling park, which was amazing. "It took them fourteen years to build that," Dodge said.They drove to the Wax Museum in a rented carriage. "You know, the city grew out of the gold rush. If it weren't for the close proximity to the Suter Gold Mine, and it was a small, unremarkable town, it wouldn't be the state capital it is now."
"How long has the wax museum been established?"
“Richard Turner opened Madame Tussauds in London in 1857 after visiting Madame Tussauds. He figured that after the Gold Rush people would come to Sacramento and they would want to visit, and he guessed right The Wax Museum became an instant hit—especially the guillotine scene, which was set up according to the French Revolution, as the main exhibition area. Those scenes were so realistic that there were even rumors of ghosts in the early days of opening. After the death of Old Turner, his heirs planned to put The place closed, but I bought it."
From the outside, the Turner Wax Museum was overly decorated, with signs and lights jumbled together, but as soon as Ben followed Dodge through the gate, the whole place immediately felt a sense of stillness and oppression.The lights are dim, dimly illuminating dozens of wax figures in different poses. "This way." Seymour Dodge led Ben up a narrow aisle past a state history exhibit.
They walk past the guillotine scene that Dodge mentioned earlier, one waiting to be executed, and some standing by—all in the rich but somewhat faded attire of French aristocrats. "Looks like it's alive," Ben commented.
"According to Turner, some of the costumes were worn by the deceased. But that's what I'm going to hire you to do."
They passed the guillotine and came to the back of the exhibition hall.A large curtain hangs from the ceiling, keeping the newest exhibits out of public view.Dodge lifted a corner of the curtain, and Ben ducked under. "Here, let me turn on the light," he said.Bright lights suddenly illuminated half a dozen figures in Western attire, several with guns drawn.They were so lifelike that Ben almost reached for his gun, only to remember that he had put the gun belt in the saddle bag and put it down when he entered the door.
"It's so impressive," he admits, "they almost look like they're alive."
"This is White Earp and Doug Holliday in OK Corral. This is Bart Masterson in Dodge City. Judge Roy Bean is in Texas," he paused dramatically. , "And here are Billy the Kid and Pat Garrett."
Ben held his breath, facing this lifelike, re-imagined man, and even after his death, Ben had to pay for him.In fact, he looked nothing like Billy, except that they were born near the same age.Even so, Billy Bunny was born in New York, an entire continent away from Ben Snow.He was a small youth, not more than five feet seven inches high, with blue eyes and light brown hair.The wax figure maker restored these one by one.He even caught a hint of cruelty in that boyish face.But one thing is wrong.
"It's not right here," Ben said suddenly, pointing to the gun strap. "Billy's not left-handed."
"I thought--"
"He only had one gun, on his right hip, and often a rifle. Everything else looked fine, except for the hat. Instead of a traditional Western hat, Billy wore one with a narrower brim. Kind of."
Seymour Dodge seemed satisfied. "That's the kind of information I need. But I remember you saying you never met Billy."
"I've seen pictures of him."
Dodge took out a large gold watch and lifted the cover. "It's almost dinner time. I have to take you to the hotel and settle down. Then we can really start working tomorrow morning."
"Are there any other exhibition plans, or is this all?"
"I'm already working on Black Bart and a few others, right in the basement, if we can get them costumes that fit. I might do some more Indians, and maybe Custer."
Ben's hotel is just down the block.This newly built hotel is like a palace to him.And by Frontier standards, it's not just the restaurants that are luxurious.He had dined in a stately dining room with linen tablecloths, and was strolling down the hall when a young woman of dazzling beauty in a long silk dress approached him. come. "You're new to town, sir? Looking for some fun?"
"What kind of fun?" Ben asked simply.
"How about we talk over a drink?"
"Okay," Ben decided, "I like this dress. What's your name?"
"Molly," she led the way into a bar next to the restaurant, "this dress is from China. It was given to me by a sailor. What's your name?"
"Ben. I'm in town on errands."
"You look like a cowboy," she said, sitting down in a chair.
Ben sat across the table from her, "Why do you say that?"
"Your boots. And walking with your right hand outstretched, tense at your side, as if you were ever wearing a gun belt and always ready to draw it. Am I right?"
"Very close, Molly," he admitted. "This is my first time in California."
"Yeah, people don't carry guns in Sacramento. It's the state capital. We're all very law-abiding."
"I went to the wax museum today. I have a little work there."
When the bartender brought them their drinks, she said, "You must know Seymour Dodge."
“I met him in Casa Ciudad. During my time here, I worked for him, advising on a new exhibition of his.”
"Earlier this year, he bought that wax museum. After Mr. Turner passed away, his family wanted to close it."
"Is this wax museum popular and attractive?"
She smoothed the front of her skirt provocatively. "Oh, of course—it attracts visitors. A lot of people from all over California come to Sacramento. People come here to get land bills passed by the legislature."
"I bet you do business with these visitors. You're a beautiful woman."
"I'm doing pretty well."
"Do you have a last name, Molly?"
She shrugged, "What about yours?"
"Snow. Ben Snow."
"Molly Harper," she said quietly.
"Are you acting?"
"Before. They have a theater here and—" She glanced across the room and saw someone, "excuse me a minute. That's Senator Witkins. I've got to see him."
She hurried to a white-haired man wearing glasses, she thought he looked familiar.They talked for a few minutes, Molly said something, the Senator chuckled, and then they parted at the door and she went back to the table. "You must be on the white road." Ben commented.
"He's the majority leader in the state legislature—a big man in this town."
"I bet he likes throwing parties."
"There was a time," she admitted bluntly.After drinking, she asked, "do you want to come to my room?"
"You have a room in this hotel?"
"I know the front desk clerk. As long as I don't stay too long, he can give me a spare room."
Ben squeezed her hand across the table. "Maybe another night. I'll be here for a few days."
He walked around the city alone and knew the place well.It's a political town, at least when Parliament is in session.It seemed foreign to him.He misses the sound of a horse's hooves on dirt roads.Somehow, the sound of a carriage driving over the cobblestones is different.
He slept so well that in the morning he found the Sacramento morning paper by his door.On the front page was a sketch of Senator Josh Witkins, exactly as Ben had imagined him the night before, with a headline: SENATOR LEADERS INTENDED IN LAND SCANDAL.The accompanying article is full of innuendo, suggesting bribery and malfeasance without saying so.The details of the land scandal were too complicated for Ben, and combined with his ignorance of California politics, he wasn't particularly interested.But he still wondered what Molly Harper would think.
Seymour Dodge was in the wax museum when Ben wandered another block after breakfast.It was a warm spring day, and the streets were full of horse-drawn carriages.Occasionally someone rides by, but the formal attire is never mistaken for a working cowboy or a loafing gunslinger.Some even touched the brims of their hats on horseback to salute the ladies in the passing carriages.This is civilization, Ben thought.
"Like this city?" Dodge asked as he entered the wax museum.
"Very different from where I used to hang out. Sometimes I don't see a tree for a month."
"Travel a lot, don't you?"
"Wandering around all the time. I don't remember having a permanent home for more than a year, not even when I was a kid."
Dodge showed Ben around the wax museum, which took longer than the previous afternoon.There are four exhibition areas here-the guillotine during the French Revolution, a horror gallery, which portrays famous murderers; the California history area includes past and present explorers and politicians, as well as his expanding Wild West Exhibit.Dodge led him to visit the California Historic District, which also has a wax figure of the governor, which is unforgettable at first sight.That's when Ben noticed something was misplaced. "This guy isn't from California. He's General Lou Wallace—he was the magistrate of New Mexico a few years ago. He wrote a novel called 'Ben-Hur.'"
Dodge looked puzzled. "You're right, of course, but how did he get here? I put him in the Wild West exhibit over there."
"These officers like being together," Ben joked.
"No—it could be serious. I remember saying that there had been rumors of a ghost haunting this wax museum earlier on. That's what haunting is—figures move or change places overnight."
"I don't believe in ghosts," Ben told him. "If the figure moves, someone moved it."
He moved the wax figure to the place designated by Dodge and was surprised to find that the wax figure was very light.As a result, there was an apparent vacancy in the California exhibit, but Dodge filled the void by rearranging other figures.
"It's not as heavy as it looks," agreed Dodge. "We're using beeswax. It's melted at low temperature and mixed with paint. The ancient Egyptians even used wax to make gods and fruit, and the art went through Roman times and Medieval. The first wax exhibitions were held in Germany in the early eighteenth century, but of course the most famous is Madame Tussauds, who was imprisoned during the French Revolution and opened in London a few years later. Since then, the guillotine scene has become a traditional exhibition area in almost every wax museum today."
Ben has limited knowledge of French history, so he visited the Great Revolution exhibition area with great interest, "Who was the man who was stabbed to death in the bathtub?"
"Marat. He was killed by Charlotte Cordet."
"What is he doing with a book in the bathtub?"
"He has a skin disease. He spends a lot of time soaking in warm water."
Ben spent most of the day providing Dodger with the details of the western costume.After they had inspected the wax figures in the main exhibit, they went to the basement studio, where Blake Bart's head was nearly complete. "I can't help you with that," Ben said. "I've never seen a picture of him. All I know is that he hijacked a few Wells Fargo wagons."
"I've got a picture of him here. See—he's usually well dressed, sometimes with a bowler hat and a long overcoat. He's hooded when he robs, but I want to show his face. I've got to Made it older, and added a moustache. They released him early from jail because he was old, you know. I think he was about sixty-five or so."
They were about to finish their day's work when there was a knock on the door of the Wax Museum.Dodge answered the door and let in a stocky-looking man with an untrimmed beard. "I've got to see you, Dodge," he said firmly.
"The Wax Museum will be closed for a few days, Tracy. We're working on a new exhibit."
The man named Tracy spat on the ground, "I don't care about your wax museum! I want my money!"
"You'll have it. I'm just having a little trouble."
"If I don't get the money, you'll be in big trouble. Those deeds are worth a lot."
"Give me a few more days." Dodge begged, and finally the bearded man said he would come again and left.
When the owner of the wax museum returned to Ben, he thought, "Maybe I shouldn't have hired you as a consultant, but as a bodyguard."
"Are you in trouble?"
Dodge shrugged. "I guess there's nothing I can't handle. Tracy's a soft-spoken guy, but I don't think he's dangerous. He lent me some title deeds as collateral for the loan when I bought this wax museum." .Now he wants to get the deed back for his own business and I'm having some trouble repaying the loan as soon as I want."
They closed the wax museum, had a drink together, and Dodge paid Ben fifty dollars.
"One more day of work. Maybe half a day. I'll pay you the rest of the money then, and you can leave for Casa City before evening."
"Fair enough," Ben agreed.
"What do you think of our city?"
"The people are very nice," Ben remarked, thinking of Molly Harper.
After dinner with Seymour Dodge at a seafood restaurant on the Sacramento River, Ben headed for the restaurant.He sat in the lobby for a while, not surprised when Molly reappeared, coming from the direction of the bar.
"How was your day?" she asked.
"Excellent. It's easy money."
"Are you going to dress all the Wild West portraits?"
"Mostly. I'll finish it tomorrow," he chuckled. "I've learned a lot from this job. Most of the figures are only the head and hands in wax. The parts that don't show Usually a tailor's mannequin."
"How about a glass of wine?" Molly suggested.
"In the bar?"
"I was thinking of being in my room."
"upstairs?"
She shook her head. "The upstairs is for business. I want to take you to my room. It's just a block away, above the poultry market."
Ben hesitated.why not?This could be his last night in Sacramento, and he doesn't want to be alone. "Let's go," he said.
They left the hotel and walked through the narrow streets, dodging a stagecoach that had just started. "Until they fixed the railroads, horse-drawn carriages were the only way to get to some places," said Molly.
"Today Dodge told me the story of Black Bart. He robbed quite a few of these wagons."
"Until he was arrested," she said, stopping in front of the darkened windows of the market place, "the shop opened at eight in the morning, just as I was sound asleep. Come on—take this flight of stairs, and there you are."
Her apartment appeared to be the only residence in the building.In addition to a main room, there is a small kitchen and a bathroom, while a double bed takes up half of the main room.
"Nice." Ben praised the drapery and the view from the street.
"I would like to be quieter, especially in the morning, but it's ok."
She opened a bottle of fine whiskey.While drinking, he noticed a six-shot gun on her bedside table.
"Is this thing loaded?"
"Of course it's loaded. Some guys try to follow me home sometimes. I need some protection here."
He opened and turned the chamber. "A well-balanced gun."
"I bought it at the hardware store."
"Have you used it?"
“I shot a guy in the head one night,” she recalls, giggling, “and of course he was scared off after that.”
He put the gun back on the bedside table, "You have a lot of men?"
"On and off. You probably saw the story about Senator Witkins in the morning paper."
"Of course I saw it. Was he one of them?"
"He's been here once or twice. He thinks he's in love with me, but he's jealous! For a while, I had to be extra careful not to let him see me with other people. He's better now, though. He's If I’m in trouble, I probably won’t care about me anymore.”
It was already dark outside, she was about to turn on the light when she thought about it. "Let's be romantic," she decided.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," he reminded her.
"Hell, I don't want you to marry me, I just like you, that's all."
"I'm glad you think so." He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her.
Moments later, when night had completely taken over the room, Ben heard a knock at the door.Someone is fumbling to open the door.Molly Harper sat up, tensing suddenly in terror. "who is it?"
"You know who it is, damn it!" A rough man's voice replied, at the same time, the door was pushed open by Huo Di, "How many people have your house key?"
The light in the corridor revealed the figure of a white-haired man wearing glasses, his right arm half-hidden behind the door frame.He stood there motionless, as if trying to see the figure on the bed. "My God!" Molly gasped and said to Ben, "it's Senator Witkins. If he sees you—"
"Who are you with?"
"No one, Josh!"
"I've heard enough of your lies, Molly."
Ben saw his right hand outstretched, holding a small dellinger.Before he could do anything, Senator Witkins fired.He heard the bullet hit the wall, only a foot above his head.
Ben knew that the double-barreled pistol could be loaded with two rounds.Without waiting for Witkins to fire again, he lowered his head, grabbed the revolver from the bedside table, and fired at the man at the door. Witkins staggered back stiffly, and fell to the ground with a muffled sound.
Molly jumped out of bed and ran to him.Ben dropped the gun on the blanket and followed slowly.He looked down at the senator with his eyes closed, wondering at the blood on his chest.
"You killed him!" Molly said. "You gotta get out of here!"
There were only the two of them in the building, and the gunfire did not attract neighbors.Molly quickly covered the body with a blanket. "I've got to do something," she said. "Make up a story. Don't beat yourself up, Ben. Damn it, you saved my life!"
"I think I saved my own life," he told her. "Why don't we call the police and tell them the truth?"
"He's the majority leader of the House, Ben! He's probably the most important man in town, except for the governor! Nobody's going to take your word for it. They're hanging you on the gallows before you know it." —and possibly me! Go to the station tonight and hop a train out of town!"
It seemed like the most reliable advice at the moment, "What do I do with my stuff at the restaurant?"
"You'd better leave that stuff alone," she suggested. "I've got to report it to the police."
He was about to pick up the Delinger pistol next to the body, but then he thought again. "No matter what you tell them," he decided, "it has to stay with the body."
She led him down the back stairs into the street and he hurried off into the night.
However, he didn't go straight to the station.His gun was still in the saddlebag of the hotel room, and he wouldn't leave without it.He made his way back to the hotel, unimpeded, and took the saddlebags from his room.He left the lobby without anyone noticing him.When he passed the wax museum, he saw that it was pitch black inside.There was no sign of Seymour Dodge.
The next train to the east was due in two hours, and he didn't want to wait that long in a lonely station. "The train to San Francisco leaves in thirty minutes," the conductor told him, "if you don't care where you go."
Does he care?
In Casa City, no one waited for him except his horse, Oatmeal.
"You said two hours?"
"If on time."
He didn't buy a ticket.Instead, he strolled outside the station and stood looking out at the dome of the State Capitol in the distance in the moonlight.He wanted to get out of Sacramento before the police caught him.He wanted to run, and keep running, back into the open pasture where the only thing he had to trust was the six-shot gun at his waist.But the more he thought about it, the more he felt that he couldn't leave Sacramento this quietly.
He made his way back to the poultry market, hid in the dark, stared at the door to the second floor, and waited.If he guessed correctly, he couldn't wait for long.
Thirty-five minutes later, a familiar figure walked under the street lamp and entered the door leading to Molly's room.Ben waited a few seconds, walked as lightly as possible, and followed.
At the end of the stairs, the man knocked on Molly's door. "Molly," he whispered, "it's me, open the door."
As soon as the door was opened, Ben moved.He leaped over the top two steps and threw himself at the man, knocking him to the ground, and at the same time a gunshot rang out from inside the house.Ben rolled in the hallway, aimed his gun, and ordered, "Put the gun down, Dodge! This ain't a wax figure!"
He waited for Seymour Dodge to drop his pistol and stand beside Molly with his hands over his head.Then Ben stood up and lifted Senator Josh Witkins from the dusty floor.
Senators demanded an explanation.Neither Seymour Dodge nor Molly Harper needed it.
"This whole thing has to look like a perfect crime," Ben began, pointing his pistol firmly at the couple, "Dodge is going to Casa City looking for someone who looks like the shooter, a gunman The straps are low for a quick draw. He needs someone who shoots first and asks questions later. I seemed to fit the bill, so he hired me to come with him under the pretense of helping out with his wax museum costume to here."
"But why are they looking for you?" Senator Witkins asked.
"Their wishful thinking is that you're murdered and I'm blamed for it. Not only that I'm blamed, but that I really believe I committed a crime. The murderer of the majority leader of the state assembly will be retaliated and perfunctory Judgment, there will be a rope around my neck at the end. You see, I was here with Molly about an hour ago, and Dodge brought your wax figure up here and set it up in the doorway. Then, he Open the door and yell at me. I've never heard your voice, and at that moment, in the dim light, everything looks horribly real. The figure's right hand is carefully hidden behind the door frame, and Dodge comes from It shot me in the back with a dellinger. I already knew there was a loaded six shot next to the bed and they were sure I was going to fight back. My shot knocked the wax figure over and Dodge helped too A little help. Then, Molly ran to the so-called corpse in the dark, and smeared some red liquid on the front of its shirt-"
"It's chicken blood," Molly said in a flat voice, resigned to fate, "I got it from the market downstairs."
"I can't believe a word," said the MP to her. "Why did you kill me? I thought you loved me, at least a little."
"It's Dodge who wants you dead," Ben explained. "I don't know the details, but I'm guessing it has something to do with the land scandal. There was a man named Tracy asking him for money today, threatening him about the deeds." .”
"Seymour found out—"
"Shut up, Molly!" Dodge yelled.If Ben hadn't held the gun in his hand, he would have rushed at her.
"Let her go on," Ben ordered. "Tell me, Molly."
She raked the hair back from her forehead, "Seymour found out last week that the newspaper was investigating. He was afraid that the matter would expand and involve him. Once the senator died, the investigation would be terminated, and his own real estate business would be closed." Will not be involved. He knows I have a relationship with the Senator, so he paid me to help him complete this plot. I lured you here to help him fake the shooting with wax figures. After you fled the scene, the dummy and The dellinger gun is removed and I bring the Senator here again to do the real murder."
"How could you do this to me, Molly?" Senator Witkins asked mournfully, "I gave you so much—"
She just shrugged.He waited, but there was no answer.
Witkins turned to Ben.
"How did you know the truth?"
"You looked familiar to me the first time I saw you at the restaurant last night," Ben explained. "I noticed your wax figure when Dodge first showed me around the wax museum. And today it's from The California Historic District is gone - Dodge is trying to fill the void with a wax figure from another exhibit. An hour ago, your wax figure appeared in the doorway, and it fell stiff as it fell, and Molly hurriedly covered it with a blanket, from here I should have figured it out - she couldn't let me get close enough to check. Dodge made a big change to the face of the wax figure. The eyes behind the glasses were closed."
"You know we're in this gang?" Molly asked.
Ben nodded, "I only told you I was advising Dodge for his new exhibit, but tonight you asked me if I clothed all the Wild West figures. Only Dodge can tell you what I do there. Even I've realized this, I still haven't figured it out, until it suddenly occurred to me that the purpose of this conspiracy is to actually kill Witkins in addition to getting me blamed. The police will be the first to send a telegram to Casa City, and I Get off the train and you'll be arrested."
"What if something goes wrong?" Witkins asked. "What if you didn't shoot the dummy?"
"They have nothing to lose. That's why the real murder was staged behind the fake show, just to make sure I followed their plan."
"I'm going to call the police," Witkins said. "You're here watching them."
"I'll help," Ben told him.
"It's a good idea, you have to admit," said Seymour Dodge, as the Senator descended the wooden stairs. "If it works, no one will believe you. No one will believe that the Senator will shoot first."
"That's not a really good idea," Ben told him, "and there's one more thing I didn't mention. Molly's going to have to smear blood on the dummy's chest to make it look like a fatal wound. When I started When I shoot, I don’t aim for the chest, I aim for the shoulder. Even with a new gun, I know I won’t miss that far.”
Notes:
Notes: