Found Drowned

by Norris, Laurie Glenn;

  “There’s something wrong here,” Jarvis said.

  He twisted around to the right, opened his bag, and took out a pair of scissors.

  “What?” Hutt asked, looking at him.

  “These blankets are all twisted and bunchy. This isn’t the way I wrapped her.”

  “Well, start cutting, man. Let’s see what’s going on.”

  Jarvis took hold of the top blanket and raised it from where it covered the chest area. He made a couple of cuts into the material.

  “It’s rotten enough now just to tear,” he observed. Putting the scissors aside, he grasped the blanket at the top and ripped the fabric. Then he made a small snip in the second blanket underneath and tore it in two as well.

  “What the hell…is this some new kind of embalming technique I’ve not heard of?”

  Hutt looked up at Gilbert who was on his hands and knees, peering down in the hole.

  “I didn’t do this,” Jarvis said. “I don’t know what the hell is going on. This body was not touched by anyone but me.”

  “Well, then, you have a unique way of performing an autopsy.”

  Golden rod, brown-eyed Susans, daisies, and clover had been stuffed into the cavity Jarvis had created to examine the girl’s internal organs.

  “Jesus.”

  Hutt grasped handfuls of the wilted flowers and flung them over his shoulder.

  “Jesus, what a mess.”

  Hutt expected to see the eyes big in their sockets and the prominent cheekbones of a body buried as long as this one had been. The rotting skin and green tinge was also usual. What had caught his attention was the throat clearly ringed with dark handprints. The girl’s left wrist was also badly bruised; oval marks left by fingers that had gripped too tightly.

  “What’s that?” Hutt asked, pointing.

  Jarvis stared at the body, then looked up toward Gilbert, whose mouth was hanging open. The detective knew that water arrested the severity of bruising on a body but had not seen it often and never to this extent.

  “These bruises were not visible when I examined…” Jarvis’s voice trailed off.

  “Thank God I had the good sense to dig this girl up,” Hutt hissed.

  “Swear to God, she didn’t have these bruises when we picked her up off the beach,” Gilbert said.

  Jarvis nodded in agreement. “I’m telling you, I never saw the likes of this in all my life.”

  Hutt brushed away the rest of the faded stalks from the girl’s breasts and midriff. There were three huge round bruises there as well, all bisected by the path of Jarvis’s scalpel.

  Hutt’s mind was racing. How in the hell could the doc have missed this? Was he totally blind, for Christ’s sake?

  “She was beaten up pretty badly by the looks of it,” Hutt declared. “She has a few broken nails here and lots of bruising on her arms and hands. This girl fought for her life.”

  Jarvis cleared his throat. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  Hutt met the doctor’s eyes and waited.

  Jarvis continued. “There was something I never put in my report. I thought that it wouldn’t make any difference in the scheme of things.”

  “Out with it.”

  “She was pregnant,” Jarvis blurted in a loud whisper.

  “Jesus. And you didn’t think that was important! What kind of a doctor are you, anyway?” Hutt whispered.

  Gilbert whistled and sat down on the ground.

  “Lower your voice,” Jarvis pleaded. “I know that it wasn’t right. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never falsified a report, never omitted a fact or added an untruth in my life. At the time it looked like her burial was going to be the end of it and I didn’t want her to be thought badly of, being an unmarried girl and all.”

  “What made you think she wasn’t married?” Hutt demanded. “Did you know this person?”

  “No, no, of course not.” Jarvis reddened.

  “Well, this beats all. How in the hell am I supposed to conduct an investigation if I keep running into incompetence?”

  “Just a minute.” Jarvis stood up.

  “No, there’s no excuse for this.” The detective lowered his voice. “How far along was she?”

  “I’d say between three and four months. The fetus was tiny, she would hardly have been showing much, if at all.”

  “All right then.” Hutt recapped aloud: “She was a few months pregnant and severely beaten just before drowning. Someone likely knew or suspected that she was in the family way and didn’t like it. Perhaps a husband, a father, or a suitor.”

  “Have I done great damage to your investigation?” Jarvis asked. “I hope not.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to go back to Nova Scotia without knowing this.” Hutt shook his head.

  “I would never have kept it a secret if I had seen these bruises in the first place.”

  “Didn’t your coroner’s jury examine the body? This kind of bruising must have been evident by then. And what about all the flowers? Where did they come from?”

  “We were all in Gilbert’s barn and it was quite an overcast day. We had to use lanterns. I told them it would all be pretty routine. They weren’t keen on looking at her too closely as it was. But the flowers weren’t there then, that’s for damn sure. As for the bruising, it just wasn’t as defined as it is now. I didn’t see it.”

  “You just better hope to God that I don’t report you. You could lose both your license and your reputation for a stunt like this.”

  Hutt thought for a minute then looked into the doctor’s eyes. “It doesn’t pay to get emotionally involved with your cases, Jarvis. It goes hand in hand with a loss of judgment.”

  “I’ve been a physician for over thirty years. I’ve always done things by the book.”

  “Let’s just forget it for now. That is, if you don’t have any more secrets you’d like to share.”

  Jarvis picked up the torn blankets and covered up the body as best he could. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said turning towards Gilbert, not able to meet his eye. “Hand me down that damn lid.”

  Jarvis placed it back on top of the box and raised his right arm to Gilbert, who grabbed his hand and helped him to climb out of the hole. Hutt stood at the edge, bent over, and brushed the knees of his trousers. He motioned for Jarvis and Gilbert to come closer.

  “Don’t say a word about this to anyone.”

  “Won’t tell a soul,” Gilbert promised. He looked over his shoulder at the silent, waiting crowd. Avard, with hat in hand, jumped down from his father’s wagon and walked out of the church yard.

  ***

  The following afternoon Detective Hutt arrived in Amherst. He walked from the train depot to the Victoria Street police station and asked for Sheriff Sherman.

  “I got your telegram yesterday. Come on back to the office and we’ll have a chat. How did things go over on the Island? Want some tea?”

  Hutt settled himself into a well-worn upholstered chair and looked around in approval at the neat office. Sherman served the strong tea in a china cup. There were hot biscuits and blueberry jam on the desk between them.

  “The wife sent this over for the boys. Help yourself.”

  Hutt munched on a tender biscuit. The tea was scalding hot, just as he liked it.

  “So what happened over there?”

  Hutt recounted his findings of the exhumation, the bruised body and the pregnancy. Sherman whistled.

  “You’ve spent time with the father. Do you think there’s a chance that he’s capable of harming the girl?” Hutt asked. “And she wasn’t married, was she? No, I didn’t think so. He’d be madder than hell with her for getting herself pregnant. And what about a beau?”

  “Yes. Harney did mention a few times that there was a young man. But the locals sure think that
Harney himself is the guilty party. According to Ryan, Pugwash and Rockley are in an uproar. They’re all convinced that Harney’s done away with her and they can’t understand why he hasn’t been arrested yet.”

  Hutt nodded, his mouth full.

  “There’s a couple of things I wanted to discuss with you. To me, they point the finger right at the bastard.”

  Hutt raised his eyebrows. “And they are?”

  “When we visited the Island and he was shown the girl’s clothes, he asked to take them to his wife. I told him I had to keep them as evidence until things got cleared up and then I’d personally see that they got back to the family. Flynn had them in a bag stowed in our buggy. We went from Bell’s farm and then on to the ferry. When the time came to board, the clothes were nowhere in sight. At first I thought that they might still be in Flynn’s office but they weren’t. Couldn’t figure it out but then, once I was home a day or two I remembered that when we stopped at the farm Harney got out of the buggy and Gilbert’s boys showed him around a bit. I’m sure he threw the clothes away there. But I don’t know why. Why would he want to get rid of them, not want them taken back to the family? He’s hiding something.”

  Hutt put the teacup down and rested his head on his hands, considering.

  Sherman continued. “The other thing that bothered me was that he was so calm, overly calm if you ask me, about the whole business. It’s not natural. If one of my daughters was found dead I’d sure as hell want to know how and why. If anything, he seemed to be relieved.”

  “Nothing whatsoever left from what was found on the body?”

  Sherman shook his head. “But I do have the list of the clothes that Flynn gave me.”

  “I would have liked to have seen them myself.” Hutt frowned.

  “Well.” Sherman scratched his head. “All I can do now is copy out the list for you.”

  Hutt nodded. “Can you come with me to Rockley today? I want to talk to this Harney as soon as possible.”

  “I expected you would want me to go with you. We’ll just wait for my deputy. His shift starts in half an hour, then I’ll be free to go.”

  “What’s the best way to travel?” Hutt asked.

  “The train leaves here for River Philip in an hour and a half. That would get us there in a couple of hours. Then we’ll rent some horses to get up to Rockley. There’s been talk for years about extending the railway to Pugwash but God knows how long it will be before that happens. I’ll send someone over to get me a change of clothes and tell the wife I’ll be gone overnight.”

  “Good, I’ll just go out for dinner and a shave. I’ll come back in an hour.”

  “See you then. Best place for lunch is at the Lamy Hotel. They’re a little more expensive but good.”

  Thirty minutes later, Hutt sat down at one of the dish-cluttered tables at White’s Oyster Saloon on Victoria Street. He peered out the window, watching, as customers went in and out of Bird’s Bookstore across the street.

  Three dollars for lunch at that hotel. Not bloody likely, he thought. Even on an expense account, something like that would be questioned.

  A young boy brought water to the table and cleared away what was left of the last customer’s meal. There were a number of men seated along the long counter, teasing a young woman, who stood on the opposite side of it with a teapot in her hand.

  “Don’t any of you have a home to get to?” she asked in exasperation amidst their laughter. “I’ve got washing up to do in the back.”

  The detective grinned and opened the latest edition of the Chignecto Post. He scanned the advertisements on the front page until the boy placed a plate and a cup of coffee in front of him. Oysters were the specialty of the house but Hutt chose the boiled dinner.

  ***

  Hutt and Sherman arrived in Pugwash at five o’clock. “I hope Harney won’t be alerted ahead of time about our being here,” Hutt said.

  “Not much chance of that,” Sherman reassured him. “He’s lucky he hasn’t been lynched by now. We’ve never gotten so much cooperation before. People keep coming out of the woodwork to tell Ryan about every move he makes and what kind of a son of a bitch he is.”

  Constable Ryan met them at the stables.

  “Not a lot happening,” he reported. “Harney’s stickin’ pretty close to home. Somebody told me he recently lost his job at the Wallace quarry. Probably just as well, he’s got to stay home and keep that woman of his under control. By the looks of her she’s crazier than three people. Don’t think that head of hers has seen a comb in the last month. It looks like a hen’s been in it. And she spends all day walking ’round and ’round the house. Pretty much worn a path ’round it. The two small ones trail behind her, bawling. Every once in a while Harney comes out and runs them all back in. She’s pretty haggard and it looks like she’s got a black eye.”

  Hutt and Sherman rode up the lane to the Dempsey farm on horseback. Ryan drove a buggy. No one came out of the house to meet them.

  “What’s wrong with the windows?” Sherman asked.

  “That’s somethin’ else that’s real odd,” Ryan said. “It looks like they’ve been painted over. They’ve been that way since I got here anyways. Never could get a good look inside.”

  Hutt knocked on the door. He waited then knocked again. This time they heard a shout and a thumping as though someone was running downstairs. The door was flung open and Will stood before them, hair hanging in his face.

  “Hello, Mr. Harney,” Sherman greeted him.

  “What can I do for you today, Sheriff?”

  “This is Detective Lewis Hutt. He’d like to ask you some questions about Mary.”

  “Sure, let’s just go out into the yard here.”

  Will made a move to step outside.

  “No, let’s go inside where we’ll be more comfortable,” Hutt said, pushing his way into the porch and then the kitchen.

  Once inside Hutt immediately felt disorientated. It took the men a moment or two to come to terms with their surroundings.

  “The goddamn house is yellow,” Ryan blurted out.

  The windows had been painted over, as had almost everything else. The kitchen table and chairs were yellow, and the thin kitchen curtains had yellow streaks through them. The stove was yellow as was the kettle on top of it. The colour extended beyond the kitchen into the hallway. The visitors stood, mouths open, looking around.

  “It was her, crazier than a loon,” said a voice from the yellow rocking chair beside the stove. An old woman rose to her feet to face them. “I hope you’re here to take her away.”

  She sank back down into the chair.

  “Why he ever married her is beyond me. My boy’s a bugger for punishment, that’s all I can say.”

  “Shut up, Ma. Have a seat, gentlemen.” Will nodded towards the kitchen table then squatted down in the coal scuttle at his mother’s feet.

  “When I went over to PE Island with you,” Harney began, looking at Sherman, “Ann went crazy. She got up in the middle of the night and painted the whole damn place yellow. I had some old paint out in the barn left over from when I painted the punt last summer, the one Mary stole to run away. Ann went over the whole house with it. We scraped a bit off the windows so we can see out. She’s out of her head about Mary.”

  “She’s always been that way, Mary or no Mary,” the woman said.

  Hutt began. “I want to talk to you, Mr. Harney, about the events leading up to the disappearance of your daughter last month.”

  Eyes too small and far apart, Hutt decided. Looks a bit like a fox, and he’s got that smirk on his face that says he thinks he’s just a bit smarter than anyone else.

  “It’s like I told the Sheriff here before. It was a Saturday night. I told Mary to go bring in the cows before it got too late. She went out but she never came back. The wife and I started looking for her later that night a
nd all through until the next morning. Not a sign of her, queerest thing. Didn’t hear anything about her again until the Sheriff brought out that piece of her skirt and took me off to the Island. That was a nice boat ride. I had never been in a big boat, you know….”

  “Had Mary ever run away before?” Hutt asked.

  “No. She’d go for walks a lot and take her time coming home with the cows,” Will said, “but she never stayed away overnight. Mary was kind of not right in the head, you know.”

  “That’s funny,” Ryan said. “None of the people I’ve talked to around here said that. I’ve been told by most of them that she was smart as a whip.”

  “And lots of people around here think that you didn’t deal with Mary fairly,” Sherman added.

  “What would people know?” the woman demanded. “And besides, it’s none of their damn business anyway.”

  Will nodded. “People don’t know what goes on in this house. Mary was always fed, had a roof over her head, and decent clothes to wear.”

  “Speaking of that, Sheriff Sherman tells me that the clothes that were taken off her body have gone missing,” Hutt said.

  Will nodded, looked away, then turned back to his visitors.

  “Queerest thing. That’s the law for you. Couldn’t catch a cold, most of them. Sheriff Sherman, you’re a good man but love a God, you couldn’t even keep track of a little sack of girl’s clothes.”

  Sherman turned scarlet.

  “You don’t have those clothes, do you?” Hutt asked.

  “Jesus, no,” Will said. “The wife cries every night. If I did, I’d let her have them to maybe comfort her a little. All we got is that patch of cloth. She sleeps with it under her pillow, when she does sleep, and won’t let the rest of us even look at it.”

  “You didn’t take the clothes and throw them away somewhere on Gilbert’s Bell’s farm?” Hutt asked again.

  Will raised his eyes and let them travel from Hutt to Sherman and back again.

  “Oh, so that’s it. Blame me when something goes wrong. Why aren’t you out tryin’ to find out what really happened to Mary? Jesus, there’s been a death here. Have you people no decency? Are you going to stop over at the Reid’s and talk to that oldest boy of theirs? He’s been sweet on Mary for months. And he’s sneaky as hell.”