After an acceptable steak he said goodnight to his companions and went through the carpeted hotel lobby and out onto King Street. The first person he met was the young lad who worked in the hotel stables.
“Where can I find Sheriff Morris’s office?”
“Just down to the next street on your left. Turn left and it’s right around the corner.”
Two men were seated on either side of a large wooden desk playing cards when Hutt walked through the doorway. A tall, pot-bellied man was leaning against the wall holding a cup of coffee. The oldest in the group, Sheriff Morris, put down his cards, shook Hutt’s hand, and introduced himself, his deputy, Scott Gordon, and Sheriff Darrell Flynn from Summerside.
“Would you like some tea?” Gordon asked him.
“No, thank you. I just finished supper at the hotel.”
“They sent word over from the Cambridge this afternoon to let me know you’d arrived. The whole Island’s buzzin’ about the girl.”
Morris motioned for Hutt to sit down in the chair he himself had vacated. The detective did so and crossed his long legs.
“What can you tell me?”
“The sheriff from Amherst was over here a few weeks ago with the father.”
“Did you see the body yourself?” Hutt asked Morris.
“It was me who saw it.” Flynn stifled a yawn and walked over to refill his cup. “The only mark on her was a round, deep hole over her right eye.”
“What about the rest of the body? What did it look like?” Hutt asked.
“Doc Jarvis had it all covered by the time I got there. Said that there were no marks on her other than just some from being in the water.”
“So you didn’t see the body yourself, just her face and head?”
Flynn shrugged. “By the time I got there Jarvis had gutted her like a fish and she was all covered up. I didn’t see the use of looking myself.”
“Where’s Jarvis now?” Hutt sighed.
“At home in St. Eleanor’s,” Morris answered. “I’ve been in touch with him about your trip over. He wanted me to let you know, he’ll meet you at the station in Summerside and drive you out to Cape Traverse.”
“Are you travelling with me in the morning as well?” asked Hutt.
Morris shook his head and pointed at Flynn.
“We’ll meet Doc Jarvis tomorrow morning,” Flynn told the detective.
When the Sheriff showed up in the hotel lobby at six-thirty the next morning, Hutt was already there. He dug out his pocket watch when he caught sight of Flynn. Together they walked to the station carrying their luggage then sat in the second-class smoking car. Flynn lit a cigarette and Hutt unfolded a copy of the Examiner.
“Looks like we might get some rain before the day’s over,” Flynn said between drags on his smoke.
“Hmmm,” Hutt answered, wanting to discourage conversation.
By the time he was done reading the first article Flynn was snoring loudly, the butt of his smoke balanced on his bottom lip.
Dr. Jarvis met them at the station. He took Hutt’s luggage from him as he stepped off the train.
“The buggy is just in the stables across the street. Only take us a minute and we’ll be on our way.”
The men passed through the busy station. Above the bustle of arrivals and departures, the cries of an unhappy baby echoed through the large room. Boys ran up brandishing the morning paper.
“Get away,” Flynn said, waving his hand at them dismissively.
“Just a minute.” Hutt fished into his vest pocket for a coin.
A boy handed him the Summerside Journal.
“You sure read a lot of papers,” Flynn said, smiling.
“What better way to learn about a community?” Hutt asked.
The paperboy smiled and pocketed the money. Flynn gave him a swat on the back of the head. The youngster turned and stuck out his tongue.
“Nose wipes, the lot of them,” Flynn said, and spat on the floor.
“That one’s gainfully employed,” Jarvis observed.
“Don’t let that fool you. The wages he’d get selling papers is likely only a part of what he brings in. Pickpockets and thieves is all they are.”
A stable boy led Jarvis’s horse out into the yard and soon had it hitched up to his phaeton.
“Thank you, Heath,” the doctor said, tossing him a coin, “for looking after my Betsy so well.”
“Thank you, sir.” The boy caught the money in mid-air, touched his cap, and smiled, showing deep dimples.
Jarvis swung up into the driver’s seat. Flynn got into the back of the buggy and Hutt sat up front with the doctor.
“So she drowned, did she?” Hutt asked
Jarvis removed a piece of folded paper from his coat pocket and handed it to the detective.
“Thought that you would want to see this.”
Hutt read the coroner’s jury report twice and then looked at Jarvis.
“So her general condition was good?” he asked.
Jarvis nodded. “Her face and the front part of her body was banged up a bit. A number of scratches, but nothing out of the ordinary for someone who had been in the water for a few days.”
“What about her extremities and her back?” Hutt enquired.
“Hardly any marks at all,” Flynn spoke up from the back seat. “Body white as the driven snow.”
Hutt turned around and fixed the sheriff with a stare then righted himself in the seat. Flynn smirked and reached for another cigarette.
“What about her extremities and back?” he repeated to the doctor.
“There were no lacerations on any other part of her body,” Jarvis replied. “Her fingers and the tip of her nose and ears were eaten away a little.”
“So the autopsy was straightforward?”
“Yes.”
“What was the father like?” Hutt asked, now turning to Sheriff Flynn.
“Didn’t seem too interested. Never went out of his way to see the grave or nothing.”
“How old of a man would he be?”
“In his mid-forties, I’d say. Good-looking fellow, tall.”
***
Sheriff Morris had wired ahead. Avard and Eddie were standing in the barnyard when they arrived. Gilbert took his visitors to the house where Catherine served them lunch.
Jimmy Bell watched wide-eyed as Hutt quietly drank his tea and ate three doughnuts.
“Are you a detective for real?” he asked.
“Yes, son, I am.”
“I’m a deputy. Sheriff Flynn made me one.” The boy grinned widely, uncovering a gap recently vacated by a milk tooth.
“Good for you, son. Be sure to always be on the lookout for law breakers.”
“Do you have a badge and a gun like Sheriff Flynn?” Jimmy asked.
Hutt took a leather pouch out of an inside coat pocket. From it he withdrew a gold piece with an embossed front. He outlined the words with his finger.
“See there, City of Halifax Police Detective Lewis W. Hutt. That’s my badge number along the bottom.”
“Wow, can I hold it?” Jimmy’s eyes widened.
“Of course.”
“Be careful, Jimmy,” Catherine warned her son. She let him handle the badge a moment longer and then gingerly removed it from his chubby hands and passed it back to the detective.
“What about your gun?” Jimmy pressed him.
Hutt shifted his eyes from left to right then dramatically held open the right side of his long black coat, causing Eddie to laugh out loud. Jimmy was able to see a leather holster and the pearl handle of a revolver.
“Jesus Christ,” Jimmy blurted out.
Everyone but Catherine laughed. She turned beet red. Hutt closed his coat.
“James Bell, your mouth’s going to get a good washing out with soap
.” She pulled him towards her.
“Oh, he’s all right. Leave him alone,” Gilbert said and smiled.
Hutt reached out and placed Jimmy on his knee and handed him the badge once again. “Deputy Jimmy, can you tell me about the day you found the girl on the beach?”
The child turned the object this way and that as he related the story of his discovery once again.
“Your friend Tom, I’d like to talk to him as well,” Hutt said.
“They’re just up the road apiece, the McPhersons. I can get one of the boys to fetch him down here,” Gilbert volunteered.
“No, that’s fine. I’ll drive over there a little later with the buggy. Perhaps one of your boys could go with me to show me the way.”
Avard jumped to his feet. “I will, sir,” he said.
“Good enough, now go outside for a bit, Deputy Jimmy. I’ve got to talk to the grown-ups for a while.” Hutt retrieved his badge before letting the boy slide off his knee.
Jimmy looked at his mother, who nodded, and then he ran out to the porch and slammed the door behind him.
“Bright boy you have there,” Hutt remarked.
“He is,” Catherine agreed. “But he has to work on his manners.”
She glared at Gilbert.
“All of you have a seat,” Hutt directed. “Our first order of business it to get the body exhumed. I’ve got to have a look at it.”
Catherine drew in a breath. “Can’t we just let the poor thing rest in peace?” she asked.
Hutt looked around the table. These are good people, he told himself. Hard-working county people. This is the most excitement they likely have ever had. And they think it’s sacrilege to disturb the body. But I need to do what I need to do.
“Unfortunately not yet, ma’am. We’ve got to find out how she died.”
“But we already know that,” Jarvis reminded him. “You just finished reading my report on the way over here.”
“Yes, drowned,” Hutt said. “I know. But there’s a petition in Halifax with about two hundred signatures on it claiming that she was the victim of foul play. I’ve got to look at the body myself in order to fulfill my obligation to those people, who are taxpayers, don’t forget, and to ascertain what happened before she landed in the water.”
“She’s been in the ground more than two weeks now,” Gilbert pointed out.
“Oh God,” said Catherine,
“You’ll need a court order,” Jarvis told him.
“Already have one. My captain wired Summerside yesterday. There was a telegram waiting for me at the hotel last night, giving me permission to exhume the body. I have it right here.”
Hutt reached into a right-hand coat pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. Jarvis examined it for a moment and handed it to Gilbert.
“For the record, a signed permission form was also sent to the Charlottetown courthouse.”
“We’ll have to let Reverend Silliker know before we go in there tearing his graveyard apart,” Gilbert said. “I’ll go over and talk to him this afternoon.”
“This is a police matter now, Mr. Bell. Whether your minister agrees or not, the body will be exhumed,” Hutt said.
“He’ll still need to know ahead of time. He’ll have to get a couple of men to open the grave.”
“Fine.” Hutt stood up. “Have it dug first thing tomorrow morning. Now, young man,” he said, looking at Avard, “let’s go and visit the McPherson family.”
Jarvis remained seated. “What do you hope to find that I overlooked?” he asked.
Hutt turned to him. “I won’t know until I’ve seen the body.” He looked at Flynn. “Get us a place to stay for the night.”
“Somebody can stay here,” Catherine volunteered. “We have room for one.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I would be happy to accept your hospitality.” Hutt smiled. “Flynn, find a place for yourself and the doctor for the night.”
“There’s a hotel up the road by the wharf,” Gilbert said. “Likely to be a couple of rooms there for you.”
“I’ll stop in as soon as we’re back from the McPhersons’,” Flynn said cheerfully, rising from the rocking chair.
“No need for any of the rest of you to tag along.”
Hutt and Avard disappeared through the kitchen door.
***
The next morning, when Doctor Jarvis stopped his phaeton in front of the Cape Traverse Methodist Church, there were two mounds of freshly shovelled earth along the white picket fence at the rear of the graveyard. An apple tree from the adjoining property leaned over the fence, providing shade from the climbing sun. It was another unusually hot day for October.
“Guess that’s the place,” Hutt said as he stepped from the passenger’s seat of the buggy. Flynn jumped out of the back.
Three men stood beside the piles of dirt, two of them leaning on shovels while the third held a folded newspaper under his arm. Hutt and Jarvis waved to the trio as they walked towards them over the crackling leaves.
Jarvis said, “There’s something peaceful about graveyards.”
“They hide lots of secrets, most of which remain that way,” Hutt said flatly. “But hopefully we’ll uncover one or two today.”
Reverend Silliker stepped forward, switched the newspaper to his left hand, and extended his right. “This is a nasty piece of business we have here,” he said. “It’s most unfortunate that it could not have been avoided.”
“Yes, it’s very unfortunate that all this is necessary. Hopefully we can finish up fast here today.”
“Gilbert told me about this yesterday afternoon. He promised to be a witness, a church representative, this morning, so he’ll be here as well,” Silliker told them.
“Yes, I know,” Hutt said. “I stayed at the Bells’ farm last night.”
“Donald and Frank just finished about fifteen minutes ago.” Silliker nodded towards the gravediggers, whose faces and shirts were beaded with sweat.
“Might as well get this over with,” Hutt said walking towards the two men who raised their caps in greeting.
“We can lift the top off with a crowbar,” Frank said. “You can hardly stand the smell. Donnie here near passed out down there in the hole.”
“Good God, man, there’s something spillin’ out of the box. Gives me the heaves,” his companion said.
“You’d better find yourself another line of work if a little thing like that bothers you,” Hutt said, grinning.
“Thank you, gentlemen, that’s enough,” Silliker said, waving a dismissive hand. “We appreciate that this is an unusual situation. One of you please fetch a crowbar.”
Frank loped over to one of the small sheds located at a back corner of the graveyard. He ducked inside and reappeared with the tool.
Squeamish lot, Hutt mused. I thought farmers had seen it all, what with hunting and butchering animals.
“Jump down there and open it up,” he ordered, pointing.
Frank landed in the hole and quickly removed the cover from the rough box and handed it up to Donald, who laid it on top of one of the mounds of earth.
“Come back in a couple of hours…say, around ten o’clock,” Hutt told them, checking his pocket watch. “We should be finished about then.”
“Now what?” he demanded as the sound of a horse and wagon caused them all to look towards the church.
Gilbert and Eddie Bell jumped down from the wagon seat. Avard was sitting in the back. Gilbert yelled hello as he motioned for the twins to stay with the wagon. Other carts, wagons, and buggies followed Gilbert’s into the churchyard. Men and boys walked up to the fence along the roadside in front of the church and leaned against it.
“Christ, doesn’t anyone work around here?” Hutt shook his head.
“I guess word has gotten out,” Jarvis said.
“Flynn, keep them back.
Don’t let those people any closer,” Hutt said.
Flynn nodded and walked toward the crowd, moving his arms back and forth as if he were scattering chickens.
“Sorry, folks, can’t let you get any closer than the fence here. Back up, back up.”
He walked them to the church gate and then stood guard, arms folded, next to Gilbert’s wagon.
Frank and Don leaned their tools against the shed and walked towards the disappointed onlookers who stood waiting to question them.
“I’ll just let you gentlemen go about your business. I have correspondence to see to. Gilbert here will observe,” Silliker called over his shoulder as he walked away. “I’ll be just next door in the manse if I’m needed. Mr. Jarvis, Mr. Hutt, it was a pleasure meeting you.”
Gilbert bent down on one knee and looked into the grave. “God, what a smell.”
“Okay, let’s get this over with. Let’s get down there and cut that blanket off her,” Hutt said, not taking his eyes off the box. Using his hands as a brace, he jumped feet first into the hole.
“Give me your bag,” he said, flapping his right hand at Jarvis.
After handing the bag over, the doctor slowly lowered himself down into the grave. There was a small ledge of dirt around the box.
“They certainly didn’t give us much room to manoeuvre,” Hutt growled. He looked up at Gilbert. “Run and get those shovels, will you? We need to dig ourselves some more room around this box.” He climbed back out of the hole.
Gilbert and Jarvis spent the next fifteen minutes removing the dirt from around the sides of the box. Hutt looked down at them, barking instructions.
“I’ll go see if there’s anything we can kneel on,” he said, walking towards the tool shed.
He returned, shaking the dirt off three empty burlap feedbags.
“They’ll have to do. All right, Mr. Bell, time for you to get out of there.”
Gilbert threw both shovels up out of the grave then climbed out himself. Hutt handed the bags to Jarvis and eased himself back down into the hole. He and the doctor then knelt on each side of the box.
“All right, Doc, let’s see what we got here. First thing to do is cut those blankets off her. You’re not all that neat are you, Doc? What’re all these lumps?”
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