John grew stronger every day. He enjoyed Alice’s company. Beatrice, tired of keeping watch, chose to play with her new friend, Annie. The two little girls ran in and out several times each day. John worried about what would happen now that things had been settled for Alice.
Danol Cooper brought news that Ezra was back in the jail, where he would finish out his sentence under close watch until the time he would be hanged.
“I wonder how things would have turned out if Beatrice hadn’t come home from school that day and mentioned the prisoner being on the loose?”
“I don’t even want to think about that, John. I always thought he was free,” Alice said. “I hid for years without need. He was already in jail.”
“You’re free now, Alice,” John said. “Ezra can’t hurt you. What will you do?”
“I don’t know. What will we do? Will we go back to Holyrood?”
“Is that what you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re free, Alice. You’re free.” He watched her expression change from confusion to realization.
“I’m free. Do you want me to be free?” she asked hesitantly. “We have Beatrice. What are you asking?”
“I’m not asking anything, Alice. I don’t have the right.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Alice said.
“I’ve done things, Alice.”
“I’ve done things, too, John. I don’t want to know. That’s not my right.”
John wanted to tell her that he wasn’t a good person. He wanted to tell her everything, but he couldn’t. If he told her, he’d lose her. He was sure of that. He could continue to live as they were living. Having some of her was better than having none of her at all. But he wanted it to be her choice.
“We can go back to Holyrood, if that’s what you want,” he said slowly.
“I like it here, John.” Alice paused and stared at him. “I like people, you know. I forgot that I liked people,” she said. “But we can’t stay here. It’s too complicated with Beatrice. She has friends in Holyrood. Maybe we could, too.”
“That would be nice, Alice.” She could make friends in Holyrood, but he’d remain on the outskirts of the town—and of life. Things would be different now that Alice could get to living again. He could bear that if she was happy.
Maybe he could take some small steps that he’d been putting off. He still carried a letter he hadn’t delivered. Maybe Alexander MacDonald was dead. Perhaps it was too late. But he owed it to the rightful owner of his name to try. He wasn’t risking anything that had to do with Alice. The only threat he carried was to himself. Maybe, like Alice’s situation, this would work out, too.
He was up and about a few days later. The doctor dropped by every couple of days. Alice made sure he followed her orders. A lady doctor. Who would have guessed? John liked her just fine, and she seemed to know what she was doing.
He sensed a change in Alice. She was more relaxed, and their conversations were comfortable. They told the Coopers of their plan to return to Holyrood. Beatrice was sad to leave her new friends, but Alice agreed, after talking to Erith, that she could come back and visit them later in the summer.
31
St. John’s
It was Teddy White and not John MacDonald who stood quietly on the steps of the small single-storeyed house on Empire Avenue. The surroundings were as familiar as if he’d never left the place that had once been home to him. Upon further inspection, he noticed the house needed a coat of paint and the fence needed repair. He raised his hand to knock, then quickly lowered his arm. He stood for another moment taking in the surroundings. The bees buzzed, and the soft rustle and movement of the flowers meant something was approaching. A loud mewl alerted him before the old orange tomcat pitched near his boots.
The shuffle of feet from inside the door sent him back to the bottom of the steps. He looked up when the door opened.
“There you are, boy! I thought you’d never come home. Mustn’t have caught any mice . . .” The old man’s voice trailed off when he saw Teddy. “Can I help you, sir?”
Instant memories of this man and his son, John, flooded through Teddy’s head. It took the wind out of him as if he’d been punched in the gut. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Why had he come here?
“Mister, are you lost?” Mr. MacDonald asked. The old man stared at him. His brows furrowed. “Do I know you? Is that you, Ted?” He paused a moment and sized him up. “Well, merciful God, it is Ted!”
Mr. MacDonald came down the step toward Teddy. Tears brimmed in Teddy’s eyes. The old man grabbed him and put his frail arms around him, tenderly clapping him on the back. “Come in, son. Tell me where you’ve been all these years. I thought you were both dead.”
Teddy believed his tongue had swollen or maybe his jaw was clenched too tight, because he couldn’t get a word out. Memories of time spent with the man who had become more of a father to him than any he’d known tumbled around in his head. Mr. MacDonald took his hand for him to follow. Teddy helped him navigate the step. He could feel the tension subside as he allowed warm memories about this place and this man to permeate his senses.
“Mr. MacDonald, I wanted to talk to you about John. I’m sorry, sir. I have bad news.”
The old man looked at him intently. “Bad news is better than no news, Ted. I’ve been stagnating in the hope that I’d see my sons again, and here you are.”
Teddy halted. His voice cracked when he spoke. “I couldn’t bring him home to you this time.” The old man stiffened as he led his adopted son inside.
“You came home to me,” said Mr. MacDonald. Tears glinted in the old man’s eyes.
Teddy stayed for hours and purged his soul of everything that had happened. Talking was a pulley that lifted the weight from his chest. He could breathe again.
He spoke about Alice and Beatrice. They hugged, and Teddy promised to return again soon. Mr. MacDonald invited him to move back home with his family.
“I won’t live forever, Ted. I’d like to spend some happy times before I go. I hope you can consider it, for the sake of this weary old man.”
“I’ll talk to Alice,” Teddy said. “Would you consider a life away from the city?”
The old man looked at him. “I’ll ponder on that.”
Teddy whistled a tune as he left the house.
32
The night was unusually dark as Teddy, now living the life of John MacDonald, made his way from Empire Avenue toward the docks and the Angel Endeavours. The slivered moon hung behind rolling clouds, creating ghostly shadows in the ebony of the evening. Faint sounds of laughter and murmured words from the lighted windows echoed in the still air. This was familiar to him and brought back memories of his years on the street as a boy.
Being with Mr. MacDonald filled his head with thoughts of his friend John. He smiled to himself. John was his best friend, probably his only friend. He thought about his days with Lavinia. She hadn’t crossed his mind in years. His solitary existence had changed with Alice and, soon after, with Beatrice.
Now that the Ezra affair was settled and he’d finally spoken to John’s father, things could quieten down. Maybe he could take Cooper up on his job offer and move to St. Mary’s Bay. He was here with them on this trip to try it out. Although he’d been young and hardy when he first took to the boat, he now realized how much he missed the sea life. Perhaps even real life. He missed being around people. Maybe that could change now. Maybe he was hiding for nothing.
When he reached the cobblestoned streets, he made up his mind that he’d talk to Alice. Although she spoke of returning to Holyrood, maybe she would welcome a change. Funny how he didn’t think of a life without Alice. They had both needed something from each other that was no longer important. He didn’t want to lose her and Beatrice.
Lost in thought, h
e was surprised by the footsteps that came quickly behind him. Before he could turn around, someone pulled a sack over his head, and at least two people grabbed him by the arms to hold him fast.
“Hello, Whitey. It’s been a long time.” He felt a chill course through him. He refused to fight; he’d take whatever was coming. They could have killed him in the street, so he figured he’d take his chances on them wanting something from him.
One time, he wouldn’t have been taken. He’d fight to come out on top. That’s what had kept him alive. A lot of things had changed since the old days on these same streets. Not fighting now might be what kept him alive.
They led Teddy from the street. He tripped several times but was buoyed up by those on either side. They manhandled him going through narrow paths, probably between houses or buildings. By their grip, he could tell they were at least his height, and their movements suggested they were strong and hefty. They walked half a mile before stopping, a door creaked, and he was pushed forward. Within moments he was dropped in a corner on what felt like straw. Barn smells wafted around him. The whinny of horses confirmed his location.
He didn’t try to remove the sack. He was here for a reason, and he’d hear it out. There were whispers and rustling of boots in straw and scuffs across the wood before the same voice said, “Got nothing to say, hey, Whitey?”
“What do you want?” he asked steadily.
“Right to the point. That’s what I always liked about you.” The horses stomped in their pounds near him. The wood quivered beneath him. Somebody grabbed him and stood him up.
“Are you scared, Whitey?”
“What do you want?” he repeated.
“Maybe you should be scared for that wife and the little girl of yours.”
Teddy felt the heat rise inside him. His jaw tensed, but he forced himself not to show any reaction. He was tempted to throw off the mask and start swinging. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said calmly. It was dark in the barn. He saw the movements of at least three men, maybe four, passing back and forth in the shadows between him and some distant lantern. None were recognizable in the blackness, and he couldn’t place the voice.
“I knew you didn’t perish on the Labrador.”
“You mean I wasn’t murdered on the Labrador,” Teddy said. One of the figures punched him in the midsection, which caused him to double over. He coughed, staggered, and stood again.
“That was for my cousin.”
“How is McPherson, anyway?” Teddy asked. He managed to clench the muscles in his stomach before he got the next punch. He righted himself again. “What do you want? I’m sure you’re not here to talk about old times.” He braced for the next hit, but it didn’t come.
There was a hushed conversation, and then a different voice said, “Heard you’re in league with this Cooper fellow.”
“What of it?” It was no good denying it. They knew a lot about him.
“We have plans for his boat.”
“What kind of plans?”
“Let’s just say that the captain wants to expand his fleet.” Snickers from the others caused the horses to stir. They snorted and stomped as they moved restlessly about in the pound.
“What’s that to do with me?”
“A couple of the crew have had a bit of an accident, leaving Cooper short-handed. You and our boy, Willy McPherson, are going to step in.” A clap on the back must have been for Willy.
“And if I don’t?”
“Well, Whitey, let’s just say that wife and girl of yours won’t be in mourning for too long before they join you.”
“What’s in it for me?” Teddy asked.
“Maybe a cut of the loot we pull from the hold.”
“And what do I do after that?”
“Maybe we let you live.” He took another punch to the gut.
“Maybe I want a place on the boat,” Teddy said.
“Now we’re talking,” Willy McPherson said. “Once a gutter rat, always a gutter rat.”
“Got to look out for myself,” said Teddy. “Nobody else’s going to do it.”
“Told you,” Willy said.
“How do we know he won’t turn on us as he did with your cousin?”
“I didn’t turn on McPherson,” Teddy argued. “He never let us in on the plan and fired first. Took us along because he thought us to be green. But where did that get him? A place on the beach beside the crew.”
“I knew you killed him,” Will said. He struck Teddy again and kicked him once he went down.
“Enough,” the other man said. He pulled Willy away. “Is what he’s saying right, Willy?”
Willy waited a moment before speaking. “Whitey’s telling the truth. Jimmy started shooting before I knew what was happening. Shot the two brothers first. That didn’t give you the right to kill him, Whitey.”
Teddy braced for the next kick. He rolled into the corner and pulled himself up to a sitting position. “I got the scar to prove it,” he said. “It was him or me then.” He wanted to change the conversation. McPherson’s cousin was out for blood. “How’d you find me?”
“Got friends everywhere, Whitey. Fellow saw you a few months ago. Have a bone to pick with Cooper. Imagine our surprise when you showed up together.”
“I can’t stand the man,” said Teddy. “Mite uppity for my liking. The wife had dealings with his missus, not me. I’m enjoying not scraping for leftovers, that’s all.”
“Told you,” Willy said. “Paid for a couple of jobs that he wouldn’t want anyone finding out about, either.”
They questioned Teddy some more before devising a plan.
“The wife will be getting off in the morning with the girl,” he said. “Your word that no harm will come to them. I’ll hunt you down if anything happens. McPherson, you’ll be first.” He received another fist to the jaw and then a kick to the gut. He coughed a few times before he could catch his breath. “Beat me all you like. They get off and are not harmed, or kill me now and there’s no deal.”
There was a hushed conversation that he couldn’t make out. “You cross the captain and you’ll regret it.”
“I won’t cross anyone but Cooper,” Teddy replied.
“Wait a considerable length of time before untying that sack. Remember, we’ll be watching.”
Teddy sat in the corner for a while and rubbed his midsection. He untied the sack and threw it over the stall. The horse sidled and stomped its displeasure.
Once a good-for-nothing, always a good-for-nothing. He didn’t know why he thought he deserved anything better than the gutter. Tonight would be the last he’d see of Alice and Beatrice. No matter how this turned out, he couldn’t risk their lives. Alice had just got done with running, and he wouldn’t ask nor expect her to do it again. He rose from the dirt, got his bearings, and realized it was the Jacksons’ stables, where his beloved Lavinia had perished at the hands of her accuser. He bowed his head, turned, and walked back to the ship. Teddy could no longer deny his past. His fate was sealed. One time, that wouldn’t have bothered him.
33
Danol was glad he had left Erith home on this trip. She didn’t want him to go, and the truth was he wanted to stay home, too. If she were here, he’d be too distracted. He was responsible to return John, Alice, and Beatrice to St. John’s, where they were getting the train back to Holyrood. They were going to take some time at their home to decide whether they would move or stay put.
Danol offered John a job if he wanted one. From what he saw of him working on the boat between North Harbour and St. John’s, Danol thought John would make a good crewman for either of his vessels—the Angel Endeavours, if they moved closer to him and Erith, or the new boat he had bought for shipping iron ore from Bell Island, if they chose to stay in Holyrood. Either way, Danol was sure things would work ou
t.
“Uncle Danol,” Eddy Nolan said, “somebody’s here to see you.”
“Who is it?”
“A constable,” Eddy replied.
“A constable?”
Eddy nodded. Alice poked her head out the door of the cabin as they passed. “Have you seen John?” she asked. “It’s getting late, and he said he wouldn’t be gone long.”
“No, but I’m going up on deck now. If I see him, I’ll tell him you are looking for him.”
“No, that’s all right. Can’t help but worry, been doing it for years.”
Danol smiled. “Your worrying days are over, Alice.”
“Old habits,” she said. “Old habits.”
Danol left her and went up into the night air. “Ah, Jeffries,” he said. “Good to see you. What brings you around here tonight?” Danol held out his hand to welcome the man aboard.
“Just following up on the note you left me,” Jeffries said. He took some papers from his pocket and handed them to Danol. “There are a lot of newspaper clippings there, too. It’s all I could find.”
Danol reached for the envelope and looked at the name on it. “Oh, yes. I forgot I asked you about that.”
“Some interesting items in there,” Jeffries offered.
Shouts from the wharf interrupted them. “Cooper, Cooper!”
Danol and Jeffries ran to the side rail of the boat. “What the devil,” Danol said as he eyed the scene below. “What the hell happened?” he shouted.
His men were coming up the gangway, bedraggled, bloodied, and bruised. They all started talking over each other. “One at a time. Hearn, what happened?” Danol asked. He did a head count. “Where’s Walsh and Power?”
“We were coming out of the bar, heading back to the boat, when we were jumped by a bunch of men,” Hearn said.
“Did you have words with them inside?” Danol asked. “Maybe somebody had too much to drink.”
“No, sir,” Hearn replied. “We only had the one. We knew we were sailing in the morning.”
The Liars Page 16