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Charity's Burden

Page 19

by Edith Maxwell


  “Rose, what does damnation mean?” she asked. “And why does my daddy not want that lady to talk to the police?”

  My heart sank. The poor girl. I climbed up to sit beside her.

  “Damnation is something grown-ups say when they’re mad, but it’s not a nice word. Thee should put it out of thy mind.”

  “All right. But why did that lady say she wanted to talk to the policeman? Is it about Mama?” She sniffed and swallowed back a sob, her eyes full.

  “I’m not sure, Priscilla. Delia wouldn’t tell me. But the detective is a friend of mine. I can ask him tomorrow if she spoke to him.”

  She gazed down the stairs for a moment. “Did my daddy really kiss that lady?” she whispered.

  I had to be as honest as I could be with her. I owed her that. “He might have. They work together and maybe they are friendly. Do you kiss your friends?”

  She nodded slowly. “But only my best friend. Does thee think that lady wants to be our new mother?” She pleated a bit of her skirt between her fingers and rubbed it.

  I very much doubted that. “Nobody can take the place of thy mother, sweetheart.” I stroked her hunched-over back. “And I don’t think thy father will be kissing Delia again. Don’t worry about what you heard.”

  Priscilla let out the sigh not of a nine-year-old but of someone much older, that of a person shouldering heavy cares. “Thee can’t unhear things, Rose.”

  What else had she overheard?

  “And I saw her,” Priscilla went on. “The day Mama died.”

  I froze. “Who did thee see?”

  “That lady that Daddy kissed. That one he called Delia.”

  “Did thee truly?”

  She nodded solemnly.

  “Where did thee see her?”

  “It was right after Granny came for the little ones, so it was half past seven. I remember hearing the clock chime the half hour. Daddy had already gone to work and we left for school. I was halfway there when I remembered I forgot my primer. I had to run back to fetch it. That lady was helping Mama get into the front of a dark wagon.” She gazed at me with liquid eyes. “Did she do something bad to my mother?” she whispered. “Is that why Mama died?”

  forty-six

  I guided a plodding Peaches through the snowy streets after I helped Orpha into her house. The new electric streetlights provided a modicum of illumination, although they did not shine at all brightly. Still, I was certain they were safer than the old gaslights.

  Stunned by Priscilla’s revelation, I wasn’t sure where to go. In prior days I would have simply driven to the police station to report this new piece of information about Delia helping Charity to her death. I couldn’t appear there now, what with the police chief having put Kevin on notice about my assistance.

  As I made my way toward the center of town, the facts of this new discovery kept rolling through my brain. Priscilla was a smart, observant girl, and I didn’t doubt her story for a moment. But why had Charity and Delia come to know each other? Maybe Charity had visited Ransom at the boat shop and Delia had befriended her. I’d gone looking for Delia at the Swifts after I convinced Priscilla to go back upstairs, but Delia had departed along with Savoire, Orpha told me.

  The burning question remained: had Delia delivered Charity to Savoire for an abortion? Or to Wallace Buckham? Or perhaps she’d made use of her mother’s office and done the deed herself. Delia had been neatly put together at her workplace the afternoon of the death, but I hadn’t thought to ask her supervisor if she’d arrived late that day. I didn’t think I’d seen him at the Swift’s reception. If she was part of the abortion plan, what was she threatening to tell Kevin about? And what did Joey know? I resolved to drive by Kevin’s house one more time. If he wasn’t there, I’d leave a note with Emmaline.

  I heaved a heavy sigh when I arrived at Kevin’s home. The windows were dark. Emmaline and Sean must be out somewhere. He would have telephoned her that he had to deal with a witness in custody and wouldn’t be home soon. I was simply going to have to pay the police station a visit. The chief couldn’t find fault with a responsible citizen reporting a vital piece of information. Could he?

  Off we went, my trusty steed and me, and soon I once again handed him off to the stablehand behind the station. I trudged up the steps and made my way to the front desk.

  “I’d like to leave a message for Kevin Donovan.”

  “He’s just in the back.” The officer behind the desk stood. “I’ll get him for you, miss. What name can I say?”

  “No. Please don’t disturb him.” And more important, don’t let the chief see me talking with him. “I can jot down the information if thee would be so kind as to provide me with paper and pencil.”

  “If you’re sure, miss.” The officer, a fresh-faced young man whose cheeks looked like he barely needed a razor, seemed deflated at not being asked to fetch the important detective. He slid the requested items across the desktop to me.

  “I thank thee.” I frowned at the paper. Where to begin?

  Overheard Delia Davies speaking in what she thought was privacy with Ransom Skells. He wanted to end their dalliance. She threatened him with divulging something to thee.

  I tapped the pencil on the table. What in the world would Delia have on Ransom? The matter of their affair? But she was the one with something to hide. How brazen of her to threaten him. I returned to my scribing.

  After the two finished, the Skells’s eldest child told me she had seen Delia helping Charity into a carriage the morning of Charity’s death, at seven thirty. Thee must ascertain where Delia took her, and if Delia was late arriving to work that day. Also get alibis for Savoire and for Wallace Buckham that morn—

  The door to the back offices flew open. I looked up from my missive to see Norman Talbot ushering Delia through the doorway. So she’d made good on her threat. What had she told the chief?

  “Thank you very much for your information, Miss Davies,” Norman told her in a smooth oily voice, speaking through a smile. “I assure you we’ll take it under advisement.”

  Norman’s gaze fell on me and the smile disappeared. Delia glanced over.

  “I believe strongly in citizens performing their civic duty, Chief Talbot. I’ll be going now. Evening, Miss Carroll.” She swept through the door to the outside.

  “Miss Carroll, what brings you in this evening?” Norman asked, and not through a smile.

  “I came into possession of some interesting information pertinent to the case of Charity Skells’s death. I was just outlining it for Kevin’s benefit.” I finished writing the word morning, and added Call me at home when you can and my signature before I looked up.

  “But I trust you have not been playing the sleuth,” the chief said sternly.

  “Oh, not at all, Norman. Thee asked me not to.” I mustered my best fake smile. “I’m only being a responsible citizen. Just like Delia.”

  “Very good. I’ll take that note and make sure it reaches Detective Donovan.” He extended his hand.

  “I’d rather give it to him myself.” I picked up the piece of paper and folded it in half.

  The young officer looked bewildered and opened his mouth to remind me that he’d offered and I’d refused exactly that only minutes ago. Instead, Kevin himself hurried through the door to the back, which the chief had left ajar.

  “Did I hear my name? Hello there, Miss Rose. I dare say you’ve come here with news for me.”

  Norman pursed his lips and cleared his throat.

  How I wished I could sit down in private with the detective and hash through all the particulars of the case, including if he’d managed to get information out of Joey, and what it was. Since that wasn’t possible, I replied, “Yes, I do, and I’ve written the essentials on this note for thee.” I handed the folded paper to Kevin. “Good night, gentlemen.”

  forty-seven

&n
bsp; It was dark out but not late at all. It only felt late because I’d been up for two days running. Tonight I would … I remembered with a start that my parents were arriving this evening. What had Faith said? Their train was due at seven, and she and Zeb would fetch them, likely borrowing Zeb’s father’s carriage. I needed to get home and make sure things were ready for them. Faith and I hadn’t talked about sleeping arrangements. When my mother visited by herself, she slept in Betsy’s bed and we made up a bed for Betsy on the floor of the room she shared with Faith. But that wouldn’t do for both my parents. I shook my head, expecting that the ever resourceful Faith had likely thought of a solution.

  My tired eyes felt full of sand by the time I arrived home from my too-long afternoon out. I was chilled through from all the driving around town and from taking time to properly care for Peaches once we reached the house. Zeb’s family’s horse and carriage were waiting inside the stable, so space was tight, but I managed.

  Once I gained entrance to the house, though, it was warm and had never smelled so inviting, the air full of the delectable aromas of roasted chicken and vegetables, fried potatoes, and apple pie. The family had eaten, but plenty was left over for me and for my parents after they arrived.

  “Did you do all this, Faith?” I asked after I’d washed up and served myself a plate of supper.

  “Winnie and I cooked together.” Faith sat across from me with a cup of tea. “I like her very much,” she whispered.

  The rest of the family, plus Winnie and Zeb, were gathered in the sitting room. I had greeted them all upon my arrival.

  “I do, too,” I murmured. I closed my eyes and held the blessing of this meal in God’s Light before I ate, but it was a particularly short moment of prayer. I was hungry despite what I’d eaten at the Swifts. I took a bite of chicken, and it was so tender and juicy it melted in my mouth. The roasted carrots, parsnips, and celery from the root cellar were also cooked to perfection.

  “This is heaven,” I mumbled. “I thank thee, and Winnie, too.” I swallowed. “Is there any word about the trains? Are they running on time?”

  “Zeb went down to the depot to check before he came for supper. They told him the train Granny and Grandfather are taking will arrive no more than half an hour late. How was thy day, Rose? The Memorial Meeting, was it well attended?”

  “Yes, it was, and even more people came to the reception at the Swifts’ home.” On the sideboard I spied an envelope with David’s handwriting on the front. “For me?”

  Faith handed it me. “Yes, it came in the afternoon mail.”

  I opened it to read a short message from my beau, simply saying how much he looked forward to seeing me tomorrow and that he would be here by one o’clock with a large carriage to convey me and my family members to the Meetinghouse if we wished. I smiled and tucked it in my pocket, then told Faith what he’d written.

  “How sweet of him. Rose, you landed a good man in David.” She patted my hand.

  “I know,” I said softly, then savored another bite of meat. “This is a perfect chicken, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” She sipped her tea. “Did thee learn anything today about poor Charity’s death?”

  I didn’t want to bother my niece’s head with thoughts of murder. “Just a little. It’s in Kevin’s capable hands. I think he’s getting close.”

  “Good.” She tapped her teacup lightly with a spoon. “I obtained some supplies today.” She spoke softly and her eyes gleamed. “For family spacing.” Her smile was both broad and shy.

  “Excellent. So thee is ready for thy big day.”

  “I am, dear Rose. I am.”

  Faith was calmer now than previously. Maybe worrying about not becoming pregnant had been her primary concern, and now that was assuaged.

  Tall Zeb ambled into the kitchen. “I think we should be making our way to the station, Faith. I’ll go out and bring the carriage around.” He slid into his coat and topped his head with the flat-brimmed hat most Friends wore. The men, that is.

  “I’ll be right out, darling.” She smiled up at her betrothed.

  “We’ll be back with them soon, Rose.” Zeb went out.

  Faith took her cup to the sink. Donning her cloak, she turned to me. “Rose, I still worry that thee feels left behind because I am marrying before thee. It was perhaps thoughtless of us to hurry into our wedding before thee and David are able to say your vows.” She stood beside me as she tied on her bonnet.

  I took her hand. “I don’t feel bad, and thee must believe me. David and I shall marry as Way opens. In the meantime, I could not be happier for thee. Please don’t worry about this matter. Thee and Zeb had no obstacles and thy marriage is rightly ordered. We shall all celebrate with thee tomorrow.” I squeezed her hand.

  She leaned down to brush my forehead with a kiss. “We’ll be back shortly.”

  As the door closed, I returned to my meal. Of course deep inside I did feel a speck of envy, but I would never voice it. I truly believed my destiny lay with David and that we would find our path to a blessed union. I just wished his mother—and Amesbury Friends Meeting—felt the same.

  I forked up a bit of fried potatoes, on which the cooks had sprinkled salt and curry powder, and savored it. The potatoes were as delicious as the chicken and vegetables. Despite the tasty and nourishing meal, my thoughts dwelt not here but on what I had witnessed at Virtue and Elias’s reception. I longed for David to talk matters over with, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. He’d had to put in a command performance elsewhere tonight—or what amounted to one, since Clarinda had specially requested he accompany her to a musical soiree in Newburyport.

  I was desperate to know what Delia had told the police chief, and could only hope Kevin would share that information with me when he was able. Under the stairs Delia had been on the verge of voicing what she and Ransom had done and he’d shushed her. Or, no, it was something he’d done for her. Had he convinced his wife to have an abortion? I doubted it, because he wouldn’t even deign to use contraceptive devices, although that could be because they diminished his pleasure. Or had he arranged for Charity to be killed by a purposefully botched curettage of the uterus? It wasn’t a particularly efficient way of killing someone, and the very thought made me shudder. Also, it hadn’t been Ransom helping Charity into a carriage, according to Priscilla. It had been Delia herself. The one helping her obtain an abortion and thereby her death. I trusted the girl. Priscilla wouldn’t have lied about such a weighty matter.

  Priscilla. I sucked in air and clapped my hand to my mouth. I prayed no one had heard Priscilla tell me what she’d seen. If the murderer had been listening nearby, the girl herself could be in danger. I needed to warn Virtue to keep her granddaughter safe. But the telephone was in the sitting room along with the rest of the family. As I recalled, however, the device was equipped with a very long cord.

  A minute later I stood behind the closed door of my room asking Gertrude to put me through to Virtue. As I waited, I tried to compose my message in a way that Virtue would understand but without nosy Gertrude learning anything she shouldn’t.

  Virtue finally came on the line. “Rose? Is thee well?” She sounded alarmed.

  “Yes. Nothing is wrong, Virtue. The service was lovely, didn’t thee think?”

  She paused before speaking, and her voice wobbled when she did. “Of course. But I cannot engage in niceties tonight. This has been the most difficult week of my entire life. Did you—?”

  “I apologize. My purpose in calling was to ask thee to keep Priscilla close to thy side until further notice.”

  “Prissy? Why ever?”

  “I overheard a perhaps alarming conversation in the hallway before I left thy home. Unbeknownst to me Priscilla heard it, too. When she and I spoke about it, she also told me something else she saw. Priscilla could be in danger, Virtue. Thee must protect her. If thee ventures out of the hou
se, don’t let the girl out of thy sight.”

  “What?” Her voice shot up. “In danger from someone who was in my house? Whoever could it be?”

  “I can’t reveal the details on the telephone. Please trust me.”

  forty-eight

  After my call to Virtue, I returned to sit musing at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea with my apple pie. Virtue had promised to protect Priscilla and to keep all the children nearby until I told her things were safe. That took one worry off my plate. And it was just as well I wasn’t able to give her details. I didn’t want my suspicions spread beyond Kevin’s ears.

  Mother and Daddy bustled in an hour later, followed closely by Faith and Zeb. I jumped up when I saw my parents. “They’re here,” I called into the other room. I hurried to hug my father, who brushed snow off his full white beard and beamed at me. I embraced my mother, too, after she’d hung her cloak on a hook.

  Within moments the children were gathered around in the usual clamor for attention from their grandparents, whom none of us had seen since Christmas. Faith and Zeb shed their own coats and busied themselves at the stove preparing supper plates for the newcomers. After Frederick and Winnie came into the kitchen, he introduced her to Dorothy and Allan.

  My mother took Winnie’s hand in both of hers. “I am pleased to make thy acquaintance, Winnie. We are a big and noisy brood, as I’m sure thee is aware, but the children are smart and as polite as we can convince them to be.”

  Winnie smiled. “We are becoming fast friends, and I am so happy to meet thee and Allan.”

  Daddy sat at the table, wiping his fogged-up glasses with a handkerchief. Within a minute of them being back on his nose, he had Betsy on his lap and the twins vying with each other to relay their latest adventures. My father glanced up at Luke, who hung back as if uncertain of his place. He was no longer a child at fourteen, but wasn’t quite an adult, either. “We’ll have a man-to-man a bit later, my Luke. Yes?”

 

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