And ahead was a group of Shaker Brothers, walking towards him. Rees was surprised to see them. A devout group that rarely left their well-ordered community, they surely could not be walking into Durham for the circus. He slowed to a stop and jumped to the ground.
TWO
The group of men resolved into individual faces. One man, Brother Daniel, Rees knew well. Daniel had been the caretaker of the boys when Rees and his family had sought refuge here two years ago. Promoted to Elder since then, Daniel was beginning to look much older than his almost thirty years. He’d lost the roundness to his cheeks, his face now appearing almost gaunt, and the gray appearing in his hair made him look as though he were fading like a piece of old cloth. Rees, who’d recently discovered white hairs on his chin and chest, felt a spasm of sympathy.
Now worried lines furrowed Daniel’s forehead. ‘Rees,’ he said. ‘If I may request your assistance?’
‘Of course,’ he said immediately. ‘What do you need?’ Not only was his wife a former Shaker but the members of Zion had helped him more times than he could count.
‘When you came through town did you see a Shaker lass?’ Daniel’s normally quiet voice trembled with fear and desperation. Rees shook his head. He had seen few women or children and none clothed in the sober Shaker garb.
‘What happened? Did she run off to see the circus?’
‘Yes,’ Daniel said with a nod. ‘With one of the boys.’
‘Shem,’ said Brother Aaron. Rees knew the cantankerous old man well and was surprised to see him here, searching for the girl. Although a Shaker, Aaron was not always kind or compassionate. ‘I fear he was easily led by that girl,’ he added, confirming Rees’s judgement.
‘Apparently they took off right after our noon dinner,’ Daniel continued, ignoring the other man. ‘We wouldn’t know that much but for the fact Shem was almost late for supper.’
‘Well, have you asked him where she is?’
‘Shem had nothing to do with it,’ Aaron said sharply at the same instant Daniel spoke.
‘Of course we did. We aren’t fools.’
Rees held up his hands in contrition. The Shakers were usually the most even-tempered of people. He knew Daniel’s testiness was a measure of his worry. ‘What did he say?’
‘That they were separated.’
‘Shem wanted to see the circus horses,’ Aaron said.
‘Leah wanted to come home,’ Daniel explained, throwing an irritated glance at his fellow Shaker. ‘Well, they wouldn’t allow a woman to enter such a rude entertainment, would they? She was probably bored—’
‘He is horse mad,’ Aaron interjected.
‘Please Aaron,’ Daniel said in a sharp voice, staring at his fellow in exasperation. Aaron acknowledged the rebuke with a nod and Daniel continued. ‘How could Leah have been so lost to all propriety as to imagine she would be allowed entry, I don’t know.’ For a moment his frustration with the girl overshadowed his fear. ‘What was she thinking? I’m not surprised that rapscallion Shem would behave so carelessly but Leah is soon to sign the Covenant and join us as a fully adult member. The amusements of the World should hold no attraction for her.’
Rees shook his head in disagreement. He didn’t blame the girl. He thought that this was exactly the time when she would want to see something outside the kitchen. After all, he was a man, well used to traveling, and seeing the circus had made him long to pack his loom in his wagon and go.
‘Like all women, she is flighty,’ Aaron said, frowning in condemnation. ‘Attracted to sins of—’
‘Did you search Zion?’ Rees interrupted.
‘No,’ Daniel said. ‘When we couldn’t find the children, we suspected they’d left …’ His voice trailed away and he looked from side to side as though expecting the girl to spring up beside him.
‘Perhaps she just wanted to go home to her family,’ Rees suggested.
‘She has no family,’ Daniel said curtly. ‘Neither of those children do. Shem is an orphan and Leah has lived with us since she was a baby. Her mother brought her to us and died soon after. Leah knows no other family but us. She would not leave our community.’
All the more reason for her to want to experience something of the world, Rees thought but he kept his opinion to himself. ‘I drove to town on the main road,’ he said aloud. ‘I did not see any children at all.’
‘When was that?’
‘About four,’ Rees replied.
Daniel nodded and rubbed a shaking hand over his jaw. ‘You were on the road too late, I think. The children left the village right after noon dinner.’
‘That means they would have been on the main road between one and two,’ Rees said. ‘Depending on their speed.’ And if Leah had parted from Shem and started home by two thirty or three, walking either road, she would have reached Zion by four. Four thirty at the latest. Anxiety for the girl tingled through him. He thought of his own children and the kidnapping of his daughter last winter with a shudder of remembered terror. ‘I’ll help you search,’ he said. ‘The more of us the better.’ He already feared this search would not have a good outcome.
Daniel turned to two of the younger Brothers. ‘Search along the road,’ he said. ‘And hurry. We have less than an hour of daylight left.’ They started down the lane, moving toward town at a run.
Rees looked up at the sky. The fiery ball was almost at the horizon, and long low rays streamed across the earth in ribbons of gold. In thirty – maybe forty minutes – the sun would drop below the western hill and the pink and purple streamers across the sky would fade into black. ‘I’ll park the wagon,’ he said, jumping into the seat.
He pulled it to the ditch on the left side and jumped down, looking around him as he did so. Farmer Reynard had planted the sloping fields on Rees’s right; buckwheat probably given the sloping and rocky nature of the ground. But on the left the buckwheat straw from last year stood almost four feet high, waiting to be cut down and then turned over into the soil. Rees inspected that field thoughtfully. Tall thick stems such as that could hide a girl who did not want to be found. ‘We should check the fields,’ he said as he rejoined the Shakers. ‘And the pastures.’ When Daniel looked at him in surprise, he added, ‘She might have started back to Zion and when she saw us coming gone to ground. She might not want to be dragged back to Zion in disgrace.’
Daniel nodded, pleased by the suggestion and quickly asked the other Brothers to spread out across the fields. Rees and Daniel started walking down the lane.
But before they had gone very far, one of the other Shakers called out. ‘Hey, over here.’ A young fellow whose yellow hair stuck out around his straw hat like straw itself, began retching. ‘Oh, dear God.’
Daniel did not pause to remonstrate with the boy for his language but vaulted the fence into the field and ran. Rees struggled to keep up. Was it Leah? Was she hurt? His stomach clenched; he was so afraid the situation was far worse than that.
They arrived at the body lying sprawled in its buckwheat nest at the same time. She lay partly on her right side, partly on her back, her left arm crooked at her waist at an odd angle. Her plain gray skirt was rucked up to her thighs and blood spattered the white flesh. Daniel turned around, his face white, and shouted at the Brothers approaching him, ‘Stay back. Stay back. Don’t come any closer.’
‘Oh no,’ Rees said, dropping to one knee. ‘Oh no.’ Although he’d been told Leah was fourteen, she looked much younger. Under the severe Shaker cap, her skin had the translucent quality of the child. Her eyes were open, the cloudy irises staring at the darkening sky. Rees bent over her. Although it was hard to tell in the fading light, he thought he saw marks around her throat. ‘She may have been strangled,’ he said, his eyes rising to the worn fence that separated this field from the road that led into Durham. Leah’s body had been dropped only a few yards from the fence but in the high straw it would have been almost invisible, even in daylight. Rees began walking slowly toward the main road, his eyes fixed upon the ground. T
here did not seem to be any path from the fence to the body; none of the buckwheat stalks were bent or broken in any way. He did not see any footprints in the soft April soil either. But in the setting sun detail was difficult to see and he made a mental note to examine this section of the field more closely tomorrow.
‘The farmer, did he do this terrible thing?’ Daniel cried, glancing from side to side.
‘Perhaps, but I doubt it,’ Rees said. He touched the girl’s upraised arm to see if he could move it. As he suspected, the body was growing stiff. ‘He would be a fool to leave her in his own field.’
‘It was not Shem,’ Aaron said loudly. Rees glanced up at the man. Why was Aaron so protective of that boy?
‘She’s been dead for some hours,’ Rees said, returning to his examination. Then he thought about the warmth of the day. Leah would have been lying here, in the sun. ‘Maybe since mid-afternoon.’ And that time would be consistent with the time she’d left town.
‘How do you know?’ Daniel stared at Rees in shock, mixed with dawning suspicion.
‘You told me she was seen at noon dinner,’ Rees replied, ‘so we know she was alive then.’ He rose to his feet and looked at Daniel ‘It must be almost six o’clock now.’
‘Probably after,’ Daniel said, looking around at the fading light.
‘A body begins to stiffen a few hours after death and then, maybe half a day later, the rigidity passes off. I saw this frequently during the War for Independence but any good butcher will tell you the same.’ Rees kept his eyes upon the other man who finally nodded with some reluctance. ‘I would guess that Leah was accosted by someone on her way home.’ He paused. The poor child had probably been lying here when he rode past, thinking of the circus. He closed his eyes as a spasm of shame went through him.
‘She knew she was not to leave Zion,’ Daniel said with a hint of wrath in his voice.
Rees sighed. This was not the first time he had seen the victim blamed. And perhaps, for a celibate such as Daniel, anger was an easier emotion right now than horror and disgust and grief as well. ‘Perhaps she behaved foolishly, but she did not deserve this end to her life.’
‘We will take her home—’ Daniel began.
But Rees interrupted. ‘We must send someone for the constable.’
‘No. No. She is one of ours.’
‘This is murder,’ Rees said, staring fixedly at Daniel. Although shocked and horrified, he had witnessed too many violent deaths to be paralyzed by such evil any longer. His calm voice and stern regard had the desired effect. Daniel sucked in a deep breath. After he had mastered himself, he left Rees’s side and joined the group of Shakers.
‘Run back to the village and get a horse,’ he told one of the youngest Brothers. ‘Ride into Durham and fetch Constable Rouge.’ His voice trembled on the final word. Rees looked at Daniel. He was swaying on his feet, his eyes were glassy and his skin pale and slick with perspiration. He looked as though he might faint.
Rees drew him away from Leah’s body and pressed him down into a sitting position. Daniel was little more than a boy himself and had lived in the serene Shaker community most of his life. It was no surprise he was ill-equipped to handle such a terrible occurrence. ‘Put your head between your knees,’ Rees said. ‘I’m going to walk to the farmhouse and talk to the farmer. Maybe he saw something.’
‘I’ll go with you.’ Daniel stood up, so unsteady Rees grabbed him to keep him from falling.
‘No,’ he said with a shake of his head.
‘I need to go with you,’ the Brother said fiercely. ‘I need to do something. That poor child!’ Rees stared at the other man. Although Daniel’s face was still white and he was trembling, he had set his mouth in a determined line. ‘I must do this, Rees.’
‘Very well.’ Rees glanced over his shoulder at the body. From here, it appeared to be a bundle of rags dropped among the stalks. ‘Poor chick won’t be going anywhere.’
Daniel looked at Brother Aaron. ‘You were once a soldier,’ he said. ‘You’ve seen violence and death. Please stay with our Sister.’ Aaron nodded and, withdrawing a few steps, sat down in the row between the stalks. In the encroaching shadows he instantly faded from view. Only his pale straw hat remained, shining in the last of the light like a beacon.
Rees and Daniel set off across the fields for the distant farmhouse.
THREE
Candles were already alight inside the farmhouse. One taper sat welcomingly upon a windowsill and its flame, fluttering in the evening breeze, drew Rees and Daniel to the house. By the time they reached the front door, the sun was almost entirely down behind the horizon and only a few streaks of orange light remained. Rees glanced at the empty road behind him, a pale ribbon between the dark fields.
He knocked on the door. He heard voices inside and the sound of a child’s laughter as light footsteps approached. A woman with a baby on her hip opened the door. In the candlelight behind her Rees saw a table set for supper, used wooden bowls and a number of children’s heads all under the age of nine or ten. ‘Yes?’ the woman said, opening the door a little wider.
‘Is your husband at home?’ Rees asked.
‘No. He and my two oldest sons went into town this morning for some kind of horse fair,’ she replied. ‘I expected him before now.’ She peered around the two men. Rees recalled the ropedancer and thought the circus was something more than just a horse fair but it was not for him to interfere between husband and wife. The woman put down the baby. ‘Go to Sarah, Mordecai,’ she said. The baby toddled away. ‘What’s this about?’ she asked, turning back to the visitors.
‘A girl has been murdered in your field …’ Daniel began.
Rees put a hand out to silence him and overrode him in a loud voice. ‘We wanted to ask him if he saw anything unusual this afternoon, that’s all. But since he wasn’t here there’s no need. I’m very sorry to have troubled you.’
‘There’s always traffic on the road into Durham,’ said the farmer’s wife. ‘Many many farmers’ wagons coming up from the Surry Road, sometimes,’ she added, turning her face toward Daniel, ‘one or two from your community.’ With the light at her back her face was in shadow and Rees couldn’t see her expression. But he suspected from a certain flattening of her voice that she did not care for the Shakers all that much. ‘Today there were more men on horseback than usual, riding in for the fair, I suppose, and even a few carriages.’
‘Was there anyone riding away particularly fast?’ Rees asked.
She laughed ruefully. ‘The traffic is always far too fast for my liking,’ she said. ‘Especially on market day. I am constantly afraid that one of my children will wander onto the road and be killed under somebody’s wagon wheels.’ She sighed.
‘But the rider,’ a boy said suddenly, coming to the door. Older than the rest, he looked to be about eleven or twelve. Rees recognized him from the previous summer. ‘Remember: the man I told you about.’
‘Oh yes.’ The woman turned to look at her son, the light falling full upon her face for the first time. Although she looked tired her skin was unlined and the fair hair at the edge of her cap was untouched by gray. Rees thought she was probably close to ten years his junior.
‘He rode really, really fast,’ the boy said, puffing up with importance.
‘What did he look like?’ Rees asked. ‘Could you see him clearly?’
‘He was tall and had blackish hair. And he did tricks. He stood on the horse’s back!’
Unbidden, the memory of the circus performer flashed into Rees’s mind. The ropedancer had called him Pip. Rees nodded. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I know who that is.’
At that moment the sound of wagon wheels turning into the drive resounded clearly through the night air. Rees turned to see a wagon, lanterns bobbing at the front, coming toward the house. When it drew to a stop, the farmer jumped out. Shouting at his sons to take care of the horse and wagon, he hurried to the door.
‘Mr Rees,’ he said in surprise. ‘What’s going o
n?’ His voice was thick with fear.
‘These two gentlemen were asking about the …’ The farmwife stopped short and looked at Rees in confusion. She did not know what to say.
‘About the congregation in my field?’ Reynard asked, gesturing to his right. Rees stepped back from the porch and looked. The lighted circle made by a host of lanterns shone on the heads of several men; the constable had arrived. ‘What happened?’
‘Thank you for your time, missus,’ Rees said.
‘Wait. Tell me,’ the farmer demanded.
‘One of our Sisters was murdered in your field,’ Daniel said in an accusing tone. Reynard gaped at the Shaker.
‘What he means to say,’ Rees said hastily, ‘is that the body of one of the girls was found in your buckwheat field. I suspect the constable is there now.’
‘First my horse pasture and now my buckwheat,’ Reynard said, recalling a murder the previous year. ‘I had nothing to do with it.’
‘We know that,’ Rees said. ‘I was hoping you’d seen something. But since you were in town the entire day, I realize you could not have done. Sorry to have bothered you.’ He gestured to Daniel.
As they turned Reynard said, ‘Wait. I should go with you.’
‘Of course, you may if you wish,’ Rees replied. ‘But I don’t think you’re going to want to see this.’
The man grunted and, as Rees and Daniel started toward the field, and to the constable’s lanterns, Reynard took a few steps after them. Then he thought better of following them and stopped.
With the lanterns as their guide, Rees and Daniel climbed quickly over the fences to the field. As they approached the center of the light, one of the men started toward them. ‘Wait. Wait. You can’t be here.’
‘Simon,’ Rees shouted. ‘Simon Rouge.’
The constable detached himself from the group. ‘Well, Will Rees, as I live and breathe. Haven’t seen you for months. What are you doing here? I swear, every time we meet there’s a dead body nearby. Do you make a habit of this? Or should I suspect cause and effect?’
A Circle of Dead Girls Page 2