Hotspur

by Rita Mae Brown

Tedi’s left hand fluttered to her face, the blue from Nola’s sapphire pulsating. “I loved her. She was like the light on my face, but”—she struggled against her emotions—“she was wrong. Nola’s capriciousness cost her life, Guy’s life, Ralph’s life, and her sister’s happiness. She didn’t deserve to die, but she was wrong, so very wrong.”

  Sister quietly said, “Tedi, when you’re young and you have that kind of power, that power Nola had over men, maybe you just have to use it.”

  “I feel so guilty.” Tedi choked up.

  “Oh don’t, Tedi. Don’t.” Alice hugged her. “I don’t blame you. Those babies come out of the womb as who they are. We might help them or hurt them, but they’re formed. You didn’t make Nola the way she was. And maybe Sister’s right—when you have that kind of power, you use it.”

  Tedi put her face in her hands. “If only I’d known!”

  “Nobody knew except Ralph. And even he didn’t know all of it.” Sister leaned back on the bench. “I suppose we can be grateful that Ken confessed. We’d still be trying to put all the pieces together.”

  “To think that he’d been having an affair with Nola for six months and none of us knew. I guess they were better actors than we realized.” Sister watched a small branch dip as a red-tailed hawk landed on it.

  “What a fool.” Tedi spat out the words.

  “Well, that was it, wasn’t it? She made fools of men? I don’t know why Nola did it. It’s one thing to exert your power, it’s another thing to hurt men.” Alice dropped her arm off Tedi’s shoulder and held her hand. “We’ll never really know what went on inside. I think at the end Guy knew. Maybe he sensed he’d never really have her. He was twenty-five. He was thinking about the future in a way he never had before. He wanted her to be part of it.”

  “You warned him.” Tedi remembered Alice trying to steer Guy away from Nola.

  “Children don’t listen.”

  “Amen.” Tedi sighed, wiping away her tears with her free hand.

  Ken’s confession stated that he had been sleeping with his sister-in-law. She’d grown bored, as Nola was wont to do with any man. She toyed with him while flaming around with Guy. But Ken wouldn’t give up. He said he’d tell Guy. Then he said he’d kill Guy. Nola finally threatened to tell her sister, to tell her parents, if he wouldn’t leave her alone.

  Ken knew Sybil would divorce him. He loved being married to all that money. He couldn’t expect to receive a settlement since he was the one having the affair. The Bancrofts would cast him out without a penny. He’d also grown fond of his new social position.

  But Nola, being Nola, couldn’t resist tantalizing him. She surreptitiously flirted with him during the first day of cubbing, even while she hung all over Guy. She brushed by Ken at Sorrell Buruss’s party, pressing against his body. And she made sure he saw her every move with Guy, running her hands through Guy’s black curly hair, kissing his cheek, leaning seductively against him at the bar.

  Guy left the party early. He told Nola to meet him at the office. There was some paperwork he had to do, but then they could really party once he was done.

  The party was wild. Ken lured Nola outside with the promise of great cocaine. They all did drugs back then, and Nola was never one to pass up a free toot.

  He dangled his little vial in front of her, leading her ever farther away from the house. When he was sure no one could observe them, he tried to kiss her. She kissed him lightly, then wanted the coke. When she opened the vial to find only a few grains, she told him he was pathetic. She also told him Guy was a better lover. He lost it, grabbed her by the neck, and strangled the life right out of her. Just to make sure she was dead, he smashed her skull in with a rock, then dragged her body to the compost pile and covered her up. This took perhaps ten minutes.

  He returned to the party, danced a few dances, then told his wife he would drive Ralph home in Ralph’s car since their good friend was blotto. He’d be home by seven so they could go to the C&O.

  Ralph, tipsy, didn’t complain when Ken took him by the elbow and hustled him out. In the car, Ken spun a tale that Ralph was only too willing to believe: Guy had killed Nola because she was still in love with Ralph and that her affair with Guy was over. They drove to Guy’s office and called to him. When he came outside, Ken surprised him and hit him over the head, stuffed him in Ralph’s car, and drove toward After All, not five miles away. Ken pulled off the road and shot Guy before going to the house. They stuffed Guy into a big paint drum— the farm always had drums around because the fence painting never stopped. Ken dropped in the blacksmith’s anvil and soldered shut the lid.

  Ken promised Ralph he’d make this all worth his while. He’d give him business for the rest of his life. He’d help him buy the tractor dealership as a silent partner. Besides, he insisted Nola was dead in part because of her feelings for Ralph. He was already implicated. In his slightly intoxicated state, it all made a strange sort of sense to Ralph.

  Ken, Sybil, Ralph, and Frances met at the C&O. Later, back home when Sybil was asleep, he crawled out of bed, got a shovel, and dug a grave where the excavation work was finished for the covered bridge. Then he pushed his truck down the driveway, started it at the end so Sybil wouldn’t hear, and drove back near Sorrell’s. He parked off the road, walked back to the body, old canvas over his shoulder. He picked up Nola, who was cold and starting to go into rigor. She was twice as heavy. He drove back, dumped her in the grave, and filled it in. The final landscaping around the new bridge did the rest.

  The next night, he prevailed upon Ralph again. They loaded the drum onto the truck in the middle of the night, drove to Norwood Bridge, and heaved Guy over the side, secure in the knowledge he would never surface.

  Ralph, distressed over Nola’s death and people’s reaction to her disappearance, asked Ken to tell about her demise, but Ken said he’d go to jail for killing Guy. This way, cruel though it was that Tedi, Edward, and Sybil didn’t know the truth of Nola’s disappearance, at least Ken would be safe and Sybil would have a husband. Surely Ralph understood why Ken had to kill Guy. Nor would he tell Ralph where Guy had buried Nola’s body. Ralph wanted to know, bursting into tears at the thought. Ken told him to get a grip, to get over it.

  Ralph, if he figured out the truth, kept it to himself. He had a lot to lose. Ken was as good as his word about giving Ralph money for the business.

  And so they prospered for twenty-one years until Nola returned. Ralph, consumed with guilt long kept at bay, called Sister. Ralph took his first step toward redemption, but he didn’t have the opportunity to take any more.

  Ken knew Ralph had tipped off somebody about the location of Guy’s body. It was a matter of time until he killed him. The thick fog gave him an opportunity to strike before Ralph cracked, told the story.

  He whispered to Ralph. No one could see him. He didn’t expect Ralph to bolt. Ken had planned a more conventional end for Ralph, poison, but when Ralph ran off in the fog, Ken, who had been on the other side of the fence line, jumped the coop. He had no trouble hearing the terrified man crash through the cornfield. He tracked him up to Hangman’s Ridge, shot him, hurried down the steep back way, risked all by galloping in the fog, slowing only as he neared the stables at After All. He put up his horse and reached the house shortly after the other returned riders.

  Not only was he not upset by this murder, he was exhilarated by it.

  Ken made his confession in great physical pain but with a clear mind and no appreciable awakening of conscience.

  The only glimmer that there was something salvage-able inside was when he told Ben Sidell he regretted the pain he would be causing his wife and children. Sybil had been a good wife and a good mother. He opened his mouth to say something more, but nothing came out.

  As for Nola, when he spoke of her, all his suppressed rage, lust, and love boiled over with each word. Nor had twenty-one years dimmed his blind jealousy of Guy Ramy. Ken still believed they both got what they deserved.

  As the three
women sat there discussing what had transpired, it occurred to Sister that Tedi had seen more of the world than either she or Alice ever would. However, when you reached a certain age, even if you never left the county into which you were born, you’d usually seen most of what the human animal can do for good or evil. And you also realized that most humans were so busy defending themselves and their version of reality that they missed the nose on their own faces. They hadn’t the energy to change or grow, diverting it into a lonely self-centeredness. Truly intelligent people learned from others and from history.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” Alice said.

  “Yes, I come here often. Sometimes Inky, the black fox, visits here. She sits and looks at me. I sit and look at her.”

  “Foxes,” Tedi mused, then touched Sister’s hand. “What went through your mind when you were chasing Ken?”

  “I don’t know exactly.” She studied the hound sculpture. “Well, maybe in a way I do.” Sister stopped, then smiled at Raleigh, Rooster, and Golly snoozing in the shade of the statue.

  “Janie?” Tedi raised her eyebrows. “What were you thinking?”

  “Just that I needed to catch him. But then once he was down I thought of Hotspur. You might remember his lines: ‘And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, / By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil.’ ”

  “Shakespeare and I aren’t well acquainted.” Alice smiled.

  “Henry IV, Part I, Act III, Scene I,” said Tedi, who recognized Sister’s source. “I have to show off my expensive education from time to time.”

  “Well, it’s over and we have to get on with our lives. I’d give anything to have Guy back, but what I do have is memories, and maybe a new way of looking at things. I intend to honor my son, not mourn him.”

  “Well said.” Tedi felt the same way about her daughter.

  “You know what I think? I’ve probably known it in the back of my mind, but not so I could say it.” Sister gazed in wonder at tiny dancing particles suspended in a ray of light. “To wantonly destroy life is a sin, a stain, an affront to every one of us. I believe, with my heart and soul, that all life is sacred. That, it seems to me, is a truth that would shame any devil.”

  SOME USEFUL TERMS

  AWAY—A fox has “gone away” when he has left the covert. Hounds are “away” when they have left the covert on the line of the fox.

  BRUSH—The fox’s tail.

  BURNING SCENT—Scent so strong or hot that hounds pursue the line without hesitation.

  BYE DAY—A day not regularly on the fixture card.

  CAP—The fee nonmembers pay to a hunt for that day’s sport.

  CARRY A GOOD HEAD—When hounds run well together to a good scent, a scent spread wide enough for the whole pack to feel it.

  CARRY A LINE—When hounds follow the scent. This is also called “working a line.”

  CAST—Hounds spread out in search of scent. They may cast themselves or be cast by the huntsman.

  CHARLIE—A term for a fox. A fox may also be called Reynard.

  CHECK—When hounds lose the scent and stop. The field must wait quietly while the hounds search for scent.

  COLORS—A distinguishing color—usually worn on the collar but sometimes on the facings of a coat—that identifies a hunt. Colors can be awarded only by the master and can be won only in the field.

  COUPLE STRAPS—Two-strap hound collars connected by a swivel link. Some members of staff will carry these on the right rear of the saddle. Since the Middle Ages hounds had been brought to the meets coupled. Hounds are always spoken of, counted, in couples. Today hounds walk or are driven to the meets. Rarely, if ever, are they coupled, but a whipper-in still carries couple straps should a hound need assistance.

  COVERT—A patch of woods or bushes where a fox might hide. Pronounced cover.

  CRY—How one hound tells another what is happening. The sound will differ according to the various stages of the chase. It’s also called “giving tongue” and should occur when a hound is working a line.

  CUB HUNTING—The informal hunting of young foxes in the late summer and early fall, before formal hunting. The main purpose is to enter young hounds into the pack. Until recently only the most knowledgeable members were invited to cub hunt since they would not interfere with young hounds.

  DOG FOX—The male fox.

  DOG HOUND—The male hound.

  DOUBLE—A series of short, sharp notes blown on the horn to alert all that a fox is afoot. The “gone away” series of notes are a form of doubling the horn.

  DRAFT—To acquire hounds from another hunt is to draft them.

  DRAW—The plan by which a fox is hunted or searched for in a certain area, like a covert.

  DRIVE—The desire to push the fox, to get up with the line. It’s a very desirable trait in a hound, so long as they remain obedient.

  DWELL—To hunt without getting forward. A hound that dwells is a bit of a putterer.

  ENTER—Hounds are entered into the pack when they first hunt, usually during cubbing season.

  FIELD—The group of people riding to hounds, exclusive of the master and hunt staff.

  FIELD MASTER—The person appointed by the master to control the field. Often it is the master him- or herself.

  FIXTURE—A card sent to all dues-paying members, stating when and where the hounds will meet. A fixture card properly received is an invitation to hunt. This means the card would be mailed or handed to you by the master.

  GONE AWAY—The call on the horn when the fox leaves the covert.

  GONE TO GROUND—A fox who has ducked into his den or some other refuge has gone to ground.

  GOOD NIGHT—The traditional farewell to the master after the hunt, regardless of the time of day.

  HILLTOPPER—A rider who follows the hunt but who does not jump. Hilltoppers are also called the “second field.” The jumpers are called the “first flight.”

  HOICK—The huntsman’s cheer to the hounds. It is derived from the Latin hic haec hoc, which means “here.”

  HOLD HARD—To stop immediately.

  HUNTSMAN—The person in charge of the hounds in the field and in the kennel.

  KENNELMAN—A hunt staff member who feeds the hounds and cleans the kennels. In wealthy hunts there may be a number of kennelmen. In hunts with a modest budget, the huntsman or even the master cleans the kennels and feeds hounds.

  LARK—To jump fences unnecessarily when hounds aren’t running. Masters frown on this since it is often an invitation to an accident.

  LIFT—To take the hounds from a lost scent in the hopes of finding a better scent farther on.

  LINE—The scent trail of the fox.

  LIVERY—The uniform worn by the professional members of the hunt staff. Usually it is scarlet, but blue, yellow, brown, or gray are also used. The recent dominance of scarlet has to do with people buying coats off the rack as opposed to having tailors cut them. (When anything is mass-produced the choices usually dwindle, and such is the case with livery.)

  MASK—The fox’s head.

  MEET—The site where the day’s hunting begins.

  MFH—The master of foxhounds; the individual in charge of the hunt: hiring, firing, landowner relations, opening territory (in large hunts this is the job of the hunt secretary), developing the pack of hounds, determining the first cast of each meet. As in any leadership position, the master is also the lightning rod for criticism. The master may hunt the hounds, although this is usually done by a professional huntsman, who is also responsible for the hounds in the field, at the kennels. A long relationship between a master and a huntsman allows the hunt to develop and grow.

  NOSE—The scenting ability of a hound.

  OVERRIDE—To press hounds too closely.

  OVERRUN—When hounds shoot past the line of scent. Often the scent has been diverted or foiled by a clever fox.

  RATCATCHER—The informal dress worn during cubbing season and bye days.

  STERN—A hound’s tail.

  STIF
F-NECKED FOX—One that runs in a straight line.

  STRIKE HOUNDS—Those hounds who through keenness, nose, and often higher intelligence find the scent first and who press it.

  TAIL HOUNDS—Those hounds running at the rear of the pack. This is not necessarily because they aren’t keen; they may be older hounds.

  TALLYHO—The cheer when the fox is viewed. Derived from the Norman ty a hillaut, thus coming into our language in 1066.

  TONGUE—To vocally pursue the fox.

  VIEW HALLOO (HALLOA)—The cry given by a staff member who views a fox. Staff may also say tallyho or tally back should the fox turn back. One reason a different cry may be used by staff, especially in territory where the huntsman can’t see the staff, is that the field in their enthusiasm may cheer something other than a fox.

  VIXEN—The female fox.

  WALK—Puppies are “walked out” in the summer and fall of their first year. It’s part of their education and a delight for puppies and staff.

  WHIPPERS-IN—Also called whips, these are the staff members who assist the huntsman, who make sure the hounds “do right.”

  Books by Rita Mae Brown with Sneaky Pie Brown

  WISH YOU WERE HERE

  REST IN PIECES

  MURDER AT MONTICELLO

  PAY DIRT

  MURDER, SHE MEOWED

  MURDER ON THE PROWL

  CAT ON THE SCENT

  SNEAKY PIE’S COOKBOOK FOR MYSTERY LOVERS

  PAWING THROUGH THE PAST

  CLAWS AND EFFECTS

  CATCH AS CAT CAN

  Books by Rita Mae Brown

  THE HAND THAT CRADLES THE ROCK

  SONGS TO A HANDSOME WOMAN

  THE PLAIN BROWN RAPPER

  RUBYFRUIT JUNGLE

  IN HER DAY

  SIX OF ONE

  SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT

  SUDDEN DEATH

  HIGH HEARTS

  STARTING FROM SCRATCH: A DIFFERENT KIND OF WRITERS’ MANUAL

  BINGO

  VENUS ENVY

  DOLLEY: A NOVEL OF DOLLEY MADISON IN LOVE AND WAR

  RIDING SHOTGUN

  RITA WILL: MEMOIR OF A LITERARY RABBLE-ROUSER