Judge Thee Not

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by Edith Maxwell


  The long needles flew out of Mayme’s hands. “Mr. Settle! You startled me. What are you doing here?” She did not smile at her husband. “What can you possibly want? I told you I was having Ladies Circle here tonight.” She pressed her lips into a line as straight as a ruler.

  Merton Settle batted at the air with both hands. “Pardon me, ladies. I’ve misplaced my spectacles and I need my wife’s help to locate them.” He smiled abashedly. “She can find anything.”

  He obviously didn’t realize his glasses were on top of his head. I held a hand in front of my mouth to hide my amusement, as did several of the other ladies. Georgia winked at me.

  Mayme was not so entertained and didn’t even try to disguise her contempt. “Merton, they are atop your foolish head. Now go.” She leaned down again to pick up her knitting. “He asks me a hundred times a day where things are when they’re sitting out in plain sight,” she muttered to her neighbor, who nodded in sympathy.

  As I watched, Merton’s ineffectual expression was replaced by narrowed eyes and a determined set to his jaw. And he aimed the hatred directly at his wife.

  Seven

  I was working on my accounts at a quarter before ten the next morning when the telephone rang in the sitting room. Lina, scrubbing pots in the kitchen, wouldn’t answer it. She’d said she was afraid of the device, and I hadn’t pressed her about it. I hurried into the next room. We’d had the candlestick telephone installed primarily for my business. I thought fast. Did I have a client due to begin her travails about now? I didn’t think so. Foreboding filled me. Was this Sissy calling to announce her labor?

  “Good morning. Rose Carroll speaking.”

  “Rose, this is Georgia Clarke.”

  I greeted her. “Is thee calling to arrange an antenatal appointment? I have several appointments open today.”

  “Well, in a way. But more urgently, have you heard the news?” Her words rushed out.

  “News? No, I haven’t looked at a newspaper yet today.”

  “May I come over now? Are you free? I have something I want to tell you, and it’s not suited for the telephone.”

  I reviewed today’s schedule in my mind. “Yes, if thee comes now. I have an antenatal appointment at eleven but I am entirely free until then.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The call went dead.

  I stared at the part of the device one spoke into and then at the trumpet-shaped listening piece. Finally I depressed the lever and replaced the piece. What news could this be? If the president had been assassinated, Georgia wouldn’t have need for secrecy. She’d already signaled she was with child, so it wasn’t that, and why would I have heard it from anyone but her?

  I shook my head. I’d find out soon enough, although she’d whetted my curiosity sharper than a butcher’s carving knife. Georgia lived only two blocks away, and the ten minutes would be for summoning her driver, donning outdoor shoes, and climbing into a Clarke carriage. I headed back to my parlor to straighten it and await the tidings, whether glad or bad.

  When I opened the door, Georgia swept in with a rush of fresh air. She turned and faced me in the hall, her mouth open, ready to speak.

  “Georgia, stop. Come along and sit down. We have a full hour at our disposal.”

  “Of course.” She’d been to my parlor before.

  She perched upright on the chaise and I in my chair facing her. Her white-streaked brown hair was in a neat chignon, and the lines around her mouth seemed deeper this morning.

  “Can I bring thee tea or coffee? Or a glass of water?”

  She batted away my suggestion. “No, thank you. You won’t believe the news.” She leaned toward me. “Mayme Settle is dead.” She watched me with wide eyes, her hand to her mouth.

  I stared at her. “Good heavens. What happened to her?”

  “I don’t know for sure.”

  “Poor Mayme. We were with her only last evening.” She’d been a difficult woman, certainly, but she was far too young to be meeting her Maker.

  “I know,” Georgia said slowly. “It’s terribly sad, and she was such a charitable lady.” She dabbed her handkerchief at the corner of her eye.

  “Is thee sure?”

  “I am. I heard it from . . . well, it’s a long chain of who told whom. But it’s most surely true.” She glanced right and left, even though she knew we were alone. She whispered, “And they’re saying it was murder. Murder, Rose!”

  I sat back as if I’d been punched. No wonder Georgia had wanted to tell me. How many homicide cases had I been involved with to date? Four, I thought, or five. “Murder. Exactly who is saying so?”

  “Well.” She sniffed and folded her hands in her lap. “My cook said the maid at Mayme’s told her the Settles’ cook saw a police detective going into the house this morning. He was that policeman, the one you know. Dinnegan or some such Irish name.”

  “Kevin Donovan. That doesn’t mean she was murdered, though. He might simply be investigating something untoward in her demise, an accident, perhaps.” I’d leave aside for the moment how Georgia’s cook was acquainted with Mayme’s maid. Asking would only complicate things, and people who worked in the serving trade of course knew each other. “Does thee know the method by which Mayme died?”

  “The maid was the one who found poor Mrs. Settle dead in her bed. She said her mistress looked awful. Her face was mottled with red and she had some white substance under her fingernails. The maid screamed, of course, and ran out. Later she overheard the detective speaking with Mr. Settle. The husband was beside himself, as you can only imagine, even though we both saw how she berated him last night.” She hurried to add, “May she rest in peace.”

  “But of course he was devastated.” I pictured poor Mayme having a difficult passage, even if it hadn’t been a violent one. And if it had, who would have reason to kill her? Even as I wondered what the white substance had been, I pressed my eyes shut and held Mayme Settle in God’s Light, that her released soul might go easily. I held Merton and his children in the Light, too, for comfort in their grief.

  “Penny for your thoughts, Rose,” Georgia murmured. “It’s not every day one gets to witness a detective’s brain at work. Do tell.”

  I opened my eyes and folded my arms. “You know very well I’m not a detective, Georgia. We’ve had entirely enough talk about murder. Calling her death that might be entirely the result of gossip.”

  She tried unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. We know nothing about what happened or how she actually died, and it’s not our business.” I smiled to soften my words. “Now, what’s this about another pregnancy? I thought thee was all done bearing babies.”

  She lifted one shoulder and dropped it, giving a little smile. “I haven’t gone through the change yet, and Robert, I mean, Mr. Clarke is so very smitten with baby Rosie, he wants another daughter.”

  After I’d saved Georgia’s life, she’d named her first daughter after me, despite my protestations.

  Georgia lowered her voice. “And I do love the marital act, Rose. My pleasure in it keeps increasing as I grow older.” Her cheeks were pink with her confession. “Isn’t it strange?”

  “It’s not at all unusual. Thee clearly loves thy husband, as he does thee. And why shouldn’t a woman derive as much pleasure from intimacy as a man, or more? I have heard other mature ladies confess the same to me. Thee is not alone.”

  “At any rate, I can’t bring myself to refuse my husband—nay, I seek him out,” Georgia said. “Rosie is still nursing and I thought perhaps I wouldn’t conceive.”

  “Once a baby isn’t exclusively suckling, women usually become fertile again. Thy daughter was born eleven months ago, so she must have been eating real food for half a year or so, am I right?

  “Yes. She has little teeth now and a tremendous appetite. She’s as round as Humpty Dumpty. And as cheerful and sweet a child as a mother could dream of. So here I am, carrying baby number six.”r />
  “Then I congratulate thee.” I looked at her waist, which was in fact somewhat more thickened than usual. “How far along does thee think the pregnancy is?”

  She patted her belly. “Who knows? Three months? Four? My monthlies hadn’t yet resumed a regular schedule.”

  “Has thee felt quickening?”

  “Not that I have noticed, no.”

  It seemed a little late not to have already sensed the fetus moving, but as she said, it was hard to tell without regular monthlies. “How about aversion to foods? Nausea? I don’t remember if thee suffered from morning sickness with thy earlier pregnancies.”

  “Only with the first, and none now, either.”

  “I’ll add a new page to thy chart. Let me have a listen. It might be too early to pick up the sound of the heart, depending on thy dates.”

  She lay back and lifted her skirts, familiar with my examination procedure by now. I pressed the Pinard horn into various spots where the heartbeat was likely to be most audible but I didn’t hear a thing. I might have guessed she was going through the change of life except for her thickened waist.

  I shook my head. “I can’t hear anything, but the fetus could simply still be too small. Come back for a check after thee notices the baby move and when thy belly is more enlarged, and I’ll make an estimation of thy due date.” I supposed I should mention the possibility of Mongoloidism, but decided not to. That could wait.

  “Splendid.” She stood. “Rose, you can share the facts of investigating poor Mrs. Settle’s death with me if you want.” Her tone was tentative. “I mean, if you can.”

  I didn’t sigh out loud but I wanted to. Georgia was far too interested in the prospect of learning how Mayme expired. She seemed already to have lost sight of the fact that a lady had died, and apparently violently. Such an event was cause for mourning, not for excitement.

  Eight

  I rapped on the door of Orpha’s home at a little after one o’clock that afternoon, my bike leaning against the fence. Throughout the two additional antenatal appointments after Georgia had gone home, my mind had roiled with questions about Mayme’s death. About Alice Riley’s four years ago, too. And about how I would handle the births of Sissy’s twins once she began her travails. Luckily, my apprentice, Annie Beaumont, had been doing the rest of the examinations today. Neither client had experienced any complications so far. I’d sat back and only spoken when Annie had had a question or had forgotten to carry out part of the visit. Annie and I had discussed both pregnancies after the second client left, then Annie had gone on her way, too.

  But my thoughts hadn’t left with her. To only one person—besides David—could I unload my burden of concerns, and it was my former teacher. I’d grabbed a bite to eat and set out on my bicycle.

  Orpha’s granddaughter Alma opened the door of the house she and her family shared with Orpha. The dressmaker’s face lit up. “Rose, have you come to see Granny? You are exactly what she needs today.” Alma wore a tape measure draped around her neck, and a square of flannel attached to her dress with a safety pin near her left shoulder was full of straight pins. “She seems to be carrying a burden in her mind, and you always cheer her soul.”

  That would make two of us, then.

  She stood back. “Come along in, please. Granny, Rose is here,” she called out.

  I found Orpha in the parlor, rocking and reading her Bible, with her chair pulled over to the window. The room smelled, as it always did, of books and peppermints. Orpha loved to have a supply of candy about and was as inveterate a reader as I had ever met. She looked up and beamed at me, then laid the ribbon in the center of the book and closed it.

  “Come to brighten an old lady’s day, dear Rose?” She held out her arms but did not rise.

  We embraced and I sat. “More like seeking a wise woman’s counsel.”

  She let out a guffaw. Her strength was much diminished from her prime but not her hearty laugh. “I’m quite sure I’ve forgotten any wisdom I once had. When you’re on the fast train to cross the Dark River, memory is the first thing to go.” She shook her head and made a clicking sound with her mouth.

  “Thee is not on thy way out, Orpha,” I insisted, although in truth I doubted she had five more years to live.

  Alma hovered. “Can I fetch you water or tea, Rose?”

  I smiled at her. “No, thank thee. I am fine.” The temperature had cooled to a more normal one for this time of year. It was sunny and a breeze had cooled me as I cycled.

  “As am I.” Orpha made a shooing gesture at her granddaughter. “Back to work with you before those girls come home.”

  “Is the younger one already attending school?” I asked. I thought she was only about four.

  Alma laughed. “No, but she calls it school. My sister takes her to play with her own young ones so I can work. Off I go, then. Good to see you, Rose.”

  “And thee.” I watched her disappear down the hall and turned my focus to the old lady in front of me. “Alma said thee is carrying a burden. Will thee share it with me?”

  She gave a hearty laugh. “’Tis only the burden of living more than four score years. I find my mind dwelling on memories new and old, sometimes in something of a jumble. Births, deaths, joys, and pains, as well as the quotidian. Bread I have baked. Letters written. Even doilies tatted. It’s nothing to be concerned with, Rose.”

  “Very well.”

  Orpha gazed at me. “But I can see your own troubles on your face. Which shall we hear of first?”

  “Does thee remember Alice Riley’s delivery? It was four years ago. The mother who hemorrhaged.”

  “Of course I do. Miss Riley’s was a severe case of it. We tried all the tricks in our bag and nothing helped. Why do you think of it now?”

  “I encountered her father yesterday evening at the home of Mayme Settle. I inquired about the little boy and he said he was well, and living with Adoniram’s son and his wife.”

  “This is a blessing, then, not a worry.”

  I nodded. “I seem to remember thee suspected Mayme Settle’s son was the baby’s father, but that Mayme had hushed the whole thing up because she didn’t want her son marrying a lowly maid. Do I remember correctly?”

  Orpha rocked a few more times before speaking. “It’s a long sad story, Rose.” Her rocker continued to creak with the back-and-forth movement. “Miss Riley hadn’t been well in the last months of carrying her child. Her father’s sister urged her to come and see me, but Mrs. Settle wouldn’t give Alice time off. We were called once the labor started, but the puerperal eclampsia from which she suffered complicated the birth so. And once the baby was delivered, we couldn’t save her. I do believe Mrs. Settle made a one-time payment for the boy’s upkeep.” She gazed into my face. Her eyes were rheumy but I’d always felt she could see directly into my needs and wishes.

  “And the son didn’t step up and do the right thing by marrying Alice before the baby was born?”

  “He did not, more’s the pity. I believe his mother exerted pressure on him not to, and off he went to join the merchant marine.”

  It was my turn to speak. “I learned this morning Mayme was murdered. How I do not yet know, but someone was angry enough with her to end her life.”

  “I learned this, as well. You wondered if the long-suffering gardener was the culprit?”

  “It crossed my mind, yes.” I let out a long breath. “If Mayme played a part in Alice’s death by not allowing her time off to seek antenatal care, one could understand Adoniram’s wish for justice. Although why he would wait four years to exact his revenge escapes me.”

  “Have you shared these thoughts with your detective friend?”

  “No.” Not yet, that is. “I haven’t heard officially that her death has been deemed a homicide, and perhaps Kevin already has someone in custody.”

  “No doubt you’ll be having a good chat with Mr. Donovan sometime soon.” Orpha tilted her head. “I suspect you have another worry pressing on you, Rose.”


  “I do. I saw a new client yesterday, Sissy Barclay. She’s about seven months along and is carrying twins.”

  “Did you detect two heartbeats?”

  “No, only one. One fetus is vertex, but next to its rump I palpated another head. Sissy said her younger sister had been one of two, but the twin boy had been born sickly and died quite young. Now she’s worried about the delivery, and I am, too, for all the reasons thee knows.”

  “And at seven months she could go into labor any time from now to August,” Orpha observed.

  “I know.”

  “How is your French-Canadian apprentice working out?”

  At last I had something to smile about. “She’s learning fast. She’s read the Guide to Midwifery cover to cover and has started taking over some of the easier antenatal visits for me. Annie is a real treasure.”

  “Good. It was what I thought about you when you began your apprenticeship with me. I’m glad Annie will assist you with the twin births and learn from the doing.” Orpha reached out a knobby and spotted hand to pat my knee. “I trained you well, Rose Carroll. You will do your best. Your best is all you can do.”

  Nine

  I stood with my bicycle on the sidewalk in front of Orpha’s, not sure where to go next or what to do. I had promised Frederick I would make dinner for the family tonight, since David was coming over and Frederick would be dining at Winnie’s. I heard the bluefish were running and that the fish market had gotten in a supply. Picking up a few fillets wouldn’t take long, and neither would making biscuits to go along with them. Add late asparagus and early strawberries and we could call it dinner. As long as it was tasty, no one would mind simple fare, and that would yield more time for me to spend with my beloved.

  Of course what I truly wanted to do first was visit Kevin at the police station and learn what the situation of Mayme’s death was. However, despite commending my efforts at the end of the most recent case, his new chief frowned on my presence at the station and on my participating in investigations even away from there.

 

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