boy. When did you learn about Giselle? Our wharf business is a big money maker. We can’t afford to just close it,” I spit out in frustration. While our restaurant was making money, we still needed the profits from our wharf concessions to build the bilingual school.
“Well, it may not be all bad. Giselle prefers to work in the restaurant where there’s a better class of diners and she feels more protected with Georges and Nelly working with her. She’s also seriously considering Hawthorne’s marriage proposal. His law practice is making money and she feels it is time she starts a family. So, they are considering renting a small house together and how you say it? Tying the knot?” Manon said with a sheepish grin followed by seductive laughter.
I had to laugh at her antics which helped lighten the discussion. “Well, I guess all this talk of schools for kids has sparked maternal instincts all around. Nelly’s pregnant; Monique has her son; we have our twins and now Giselle wants to hop on the maternity wagon.” Manon was giving me a funny look. “Oh boy. Not you too!” I shouted. We had been careless in our love-making on a couple of occasions recently.
Manon shook her finger at me to say it would be my fault if she were with child. “Not yet, Big Boy, but it might happen if you’re not more careful, no? Little Jules and Fanny wouldn’t be happy at first, but they’d grow to like younger brothers and sisters, yes? Maybe it will be triplets next time, huh?” She said with a devilish grin.
I masked my relief that she wasn’t pregnant. The threat of triplets was real. Twins were common in her family in France and she bore twins with me. “Does that mean that Giselle will be moving out of her cabin on the “Eliza” soon?”
“No, she says she won’t make a move until we find a replacement for her on the wharf. She suggests that we find a married couple to run the wharf business and have them live on our ship.”
“That’s not a bad suggestion. What about Teri? Will she also continue to work on the wharf until we can find suitable replacements?”
“I didn’t ask her but I’m sure she will. She will need our help to set up her bodega. We bought all her Chilean wine, so she needs us to sell some back to her. Also, she is so good with handling a bar, why not have her do a Chilean wine bar in her store and serve lunch snacks we make? That way we continue to work together, no?” Manon said in all seriousness.
“You’re right as usual. We want to keep her working with us, She’ll need our help with setting up and provisioning her bodega. We have established credit with grocers, bakers and wine merchants which we can use in her behalf. She’s known as one of most attractive waitresses both on the wharf and in our restaurant. So our continued association can’t help but benefit both of us. Further, by renouncing their partnership interest with you which was based on their running the concession, we won’t have to share the profits. We’ll hire an experienced couple to run the wine bar and canteen. We pay them a good wage and provide lodging on the ship but don’t make them partners. What we lose in custom we had with two attractive single women running the concession, we’ll make up by not having to share profits. We’ll just have to find a couple with the right personality for the job. What do you think?” I asked Manon whose head was bobbing affirmatively.
“I like the idea we continue to work together with Teri. She is grateful that you testified in her behalf at her trial and suggested how to get Raoul’s store for her. It was always her dream to have her own bodega and now she has it, she will work to promote our and her interests. So in a new way we are still partners, no?”
“Yes, and I’m sure my clever cookie wife will figure out more interesting ways to do business with Teri.” Manon rewarded me a really big smile full of promise.
I realized that with my responsibility to keep money flowing to pay off our mortgage on our restaurant, meet an ever expanding payroll and supervise and pay for the construction of our new school I’d have little or no time to devote to a detective business. I still had my contract with the French consulate to deliver French miners’ mail to the northern and southern placers, but Gino and I were having a hard time keeping up with the volume of mail arriving for the 20,000 or so French miners still toiling in the river placers. Many of the letters were addressed simply to an individual dans les mines d’or à San Francisco. There were many large express companies such as Wells Fargo & Co. and Adams & Co. that handled mail, parcels and gold to and from the mines as well as a number of smaller express companies serving remote areas. As I was toying with the idea of mounting my own express company to handle French and Chilean mail and gold, I made an appointment to see French Consul Patrice Dillon to see if he would support such a venture.
Dillon’s wife was on good terms with Manon and the consul had brought clients and visiting dignitaries to dine at Chez Manon on several occasions. I was hopeful he would support my scheme as I would need his backing for it to succeed. With the recent arrival of several boatloads of French paupers and unemployed artisans and family farmers on ships sent by Emperor Louis Napoleon as a result of his manipulation of the Lottery of the Golden Ingots, the consulate was overworked, underfunded, and understaffed. I would need to persuade Consul Dillon that my proposal for a French express company would help solve his problems.
Dillon kept me waiting 20 minutes but apologized for the delay and addressed me for the first time as Pierre. “We are swamped with work as a result of so many new French arrivals. Our government didn’t provide any of them with a stipend and expects us to provide for them in the dead of winter when there are no jobs and we can’t send them to the mines. I hope you’re not here to request more money for handling the mail, because we don’t have a penny to spare. The Foreign Ministry just ignores our pleas for more staff and money. We’re really strapped,” Dillon said in a strained voice. Despite his dapper appearance in a Paris-tailored three piece suit, his face was haggard with worry lines and a deep frown.
“No, I’ve not come to request more funding; in fact, I’ve come to present a proposal that may help you with your problems settling the ‘Ingots.’” That’s what we called the nearly 5,000 immigrants who were sent to settle in California as a result of the Lottery of the Golden Ingots conducted the previous November in Paris. Dillon had to feed and house most of them until they could be given a grub stake and shipped to the mines or find jobs for them with French residing here. We had agreed to hire an apprentice food preparer to help our two chefs in our restaurant. Dillon relaxed visibly as I let the welcome news sink in. He retrieved a Havana cigar from the cedar humidor on his desk and gestured for me to help myself.
After firing up our cigars, I continued. “I would like to establish a specialized express company to handle French and Chilean miners’ mail, parcels and gold shipments from the mines. Why should we let Wells Fargo, Adams and others have a monopoly on the shipment of French gold?” I paused to puff up the fire in my cigar and noted I had Dillon’s rapt attention and interest.
“How would this benefit the consulate?” Dillon queried.
“As we would be handling all the French and Chilean mail, we could charge a fee for the mail service as do all the express companies. This would relieve the consulate of paying for this service. But even more importantly, with your endorsement and active support, we would be able to charge a fee for assaying the gold shipped and its transportation to a French bank in Sacramento or San Francisco. You would negotiate with our French banks, all of which would want access to the gold, and we would require them to pay a fee based on the amount of gold they received. This fee would go to the consulate.” I paused again to let my words take effect.
“What makes you think the banks would readily pay a fee based on the gold received?” Dillon said eagerly.
“Access
