Must the Maiden Die

by Miriam Grace Monfredo

  That was the last thing she could remember clearly.

  But where had she been all that day—Monday? She might have run to the stable. But if the stable boy and groom were there, she would have hidden in the loft. She'd done that before sometimes. Later she found pieces of straw clinging to her wool cloak.

  Then it had been late afternoon when she'd taken the horse? She didn't know. She had a faint memory of a horse rearing, and of waking up in the swamp. And she had a picture in her mind of seeing herself above Roland Brant's body. Her knife, the knife with the bone handle, was in his chest. So what she had thought was a dream must have been real.

  And then Gerard and the dog found her.

  "You said Gerard is all right?" Tamar had again tearfully asked, while the dog lying beside her bed stirred slightly in his sleep.

  "Gerard is fine. And I will do my best to find the answer to this terrible mystery," Glynis had promised her. She'd not had the heart to press the girl for more, but simply sat with her until she had slept.

  This morning, directly after the scene with Neva in the refuge kitchen, she had gone straight to Merrycoyf s law office. The newspaper was lying open on his desk and Glynis recounted all that Tamar had said. And only that. Not her own speculations.

  "Jeremiah, is it possible for you to believe Roland Brant capable of such evil?"

  "My dear Miss Tryon, almost anything is possible to believe when it comes to human depravity. I seem to recall we have discussed this topic before."

  "You must represent the girl," Glynis said.

  "As it happens, Adam already informed me of the unfortunate Tamar Jager. And I told him, unequivocally, that I could not represent her. I am retired."

  "You are here in your office, Jeremiah!"

  "To finish some small items of business."

  "I will never be able to forgive you."

  He had peered at her over his wire-rimmed spectacles. "Are you quite serious, Glynis?"

  "Quite serious." She had almost stammered, so startled was she to hear him use her given name.

  "I am too old, my dear, to be dashing to the defense of maidens in distress."

  "If you don't, this maiden may die. Besides, you are in the pink of health."

  "I am tired, which is why I have retired."

  "I will not permit you to set foot in my library again." A hollow threat, she had realized, since he was on the library's board of directors. "And I meant what I said, Jeremiah—I shall never forgive you!"

  Thus here they were, shortly past midday on a warm spring afternoon, seated in the Seneca County Court House in Waterloo where it had stood for more than half a century. The generous amount of polished wood trim in the small courtroom smelled of linseed oil and age.

  At last, in the front of the courtroom, a narrow door to the side of a raised platform swept open to admit the judge.

  "All rise!" called the bailiff. "The Honorable Tobias Endicott presiding."

  22

  And the king said, Bring me a sword. And they brought a sword before the king. And the king said, Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other.

  —First Book of Kings

  Judge Tobias Endicott, a thickset man with broad forehead and reputation for suffering little foolishness in his courtroom, strode to the bench with his black judicial robe swinging about the ankles of his boots. He had more than once visited Glynis's library, and she liked this intelligent man, not in spite of but possibly because of the fact that he was known for an occasional eccentricity. He was also known for his common sense.

  After he put on his spectacles, took them off and examined them closely, then put them on again, he nodded to the court clerk. While the clerk came forward to read the hearing calendar, Judge Endicott briefly scanned the room, and when his eyes came to rest on Jeremiah Merrycoyf, Glynis caught his suppressed smile.

  "The first item, Your Honor," said the clerk, "is a request by the deputy coroner of the Village of Seneca Falls, Dr. Neva Cardoza-Levy, on behalf of the People of New York, for permission to conduct an autopsy on the deceased Roland Brant. In opposition to the request for autopsy is the deceased's son Erich Brant."

  "Are both parties here?" asked Judge Endicott.

  "Here, Your Honor."

  "Come forward," directed the judge.

  Neva rose and started down the short center aisle. Erich Brant also got to his feet and followed her through a waist-high, swinging gate. The gate connected two sections of elaborately carved wood railing, and brought Neva and Erich to stand before the triple-tiered enclosed bench on the raised front dais. Both managed to behave as if the other was not there.

  "I have read your petition, Dr. Cardoza-Levy, and your response, Mr. Brant," said Judge Endicott. "Do you have anything to add, Mr. Brant, to your stated opposition in this matter?"

  "Yes, sir, I do."

  "Proceed."

  "In the past twenty-four hours, a confession was made by my father's murderer. That makes the purpose of an autopsy completely immaterial."

  "Now, Mr. Brant," the judge cautioned, "I am the one to decide what is material or immaterial here. You have argued in your response that an autopsy is unnecessary because the cause of your father's death by stabbing is obvious. And that you object to the desecration of his remains. Do I understand that your opposition is now based on the recent confession of...whom did you say?"

  It must be, Glynis thought, that His Honor did not read the Seneca Falls newspaper. A commendable practice.

  "I didn't say, Your Honor, but it’s an indentured servant girl."

  "This servant girl presumably has a name?"

  "Tamar Jager. She has confessed, sir, to stabbing my father. It was in this morning's newspaper," he added.

  "Are you relying for information on a newspaper?" Judge Endicott scowled, removing his spectacles to dangle them from his hand.

  Erich recovered rapidly. "No, sir. Her confession was heard by Constable Stuart, as well as by two deputies of the Seneca County Sheriff's Office, and the members of a search party. She was captured, Your Honor, while trying to escape."

  Glynis heard from behind her a soft intake of breath, and turned to see an elegantly dressed Elise Jager just entering the courtroom. She appeared to be alone and seated herself across the aisle, several rows behind Glynis. A man then also entered, but Glynis, afraid of missing something, turned back to face the bench before taking the stranger's measure.

  "Dr. Cardoza-Levy," the judge inquired while replacing his spectacles, "in view of this recent development, are you prepared to withdraw your request?"

  "No, I am not."

  Neva looked too small, Glynis thought as she often did, to be possessed of such a robust voice. Her words carried as clearly as the peal of a bronze bell.

  Judge Endicott studied her over his spectacles, and then shuffled through a sheaf of papers. After a minute or two, he said, "I must tell you, Doctor, that if a confession of stabbing has been made—and you have stated here in your petition that there was a knife in the body of the deceased—I can hardly see reason for an autopsy."

  "Your Honor, first I wish to address the confession of Tamar Jager."

  Glynis shifted uneasily in her chair. She was still worried, considering this morning's argument, that Neva would try to claim that Brant's murder might have been justified by reason of rape.

  "Very well, Doctor, address the confession," allowed Judge Endicott.

  "The girl was in shock when she was brought to my dispensary. I don't know when that so-called confession was made, but in my opinion, my patient at the time may well have been delirious. Few people would be capable of rational thought immediately following a serious injury."

  "What kind of injury?"

  "She was shot, Your Honor."

  "That doesn't mean," Erich Brant protested, "that she didn't know what—"

  "Mr. Brant," interrupted Judge Endicott. "When I want your opinion I will so inform you."

  Erich's rigid postu
re indicated his displeasure, but he gave the judge a brief nod.

  Judge Endicott, now frowning, asked, "Who brought the Jager girl to your dispensary, Doctor?"

  "Constable Cullen Stuart and his deputy."

  "Constable Stuart, please come forward," directed the judge.

  When Cullen stood before him, Judge Endicott said, "Please enlighten me, Constable. What is the background of this situation?"

  Glynis listened as Cullen related the search for Tamar Jager. It coincided with what Zeph had told her.

  "And, as I described, Your Honor, she was wounded by the bounty hunter," Cullen concluded.

  Judge Endicott's frown deepened as he asked, "Would you be able to state, Constable, as Dr. Cardoza-Levy has claimed, that the suspect was in shock when you first saw her?"

  "I think she probably was, yes."

  "And when she made the confession?"

  "I wouldn't call it a straightforward confession, Your Honor."

  "What would you call it?"

  "Some phrases spoken by a very sick girl."

  Bless Cullen, Glynis thought, with a glance at Erich Brant. He looked angry, but then he always did.

  Judge Endicott sighed deeply, removed the spectacles again, and rubbed the bridge of his prominent nose. "Very well, Constable, that will be all for now."

  As Cullen went back to his seat, the judge said, "Now, Dr. Cardoza-Levy, your petition states that you observed two different wounds on the body of the deceased Roland Brant. Explain the particulars of that observation."

  "There was a knife protruding from the deceased's chest in the area of the heart. There was also a substantial bruise on the left temple. The bruise was made, I believe, by a small blunt object—which has not to my knowledge been identified."

  Both Neva and Judge Endicott looked at Cullen.

  "It hasn't been clearly identified," Cullen agreed.

  "Either of those injuries," Neva continued, "could conceivably have caused Roland Brant's death. An autopsy should indicate which one did cause death, and possibly which blow was struck first. It might also answer the question of who would have been able to inflict such injury on a strong, and to all appearances healthy, man. Also, the deceased's body was not discovered for some time—or so we have been led to believe," she added, provoking a scowl from Erich. "An autopsy would allow the time of death to be, if not fixed absolutely, at least narrowed down. As it is now, we are simply speculating about an unknown."

  Judge Endicott replaced his spectacles and when he looked down at Neva, he was again frowning. "Are you suggesting, Doctor, that there could be viable suspects in this murder other than the servant girl?"

  Glynis waited, increasingly alarmed at a possible revisitation of Neva's rape defense. She thus heard with relief a simple, "I believe there are, yes, Your Honor."

  A few rows ahead of Glynis, a stout figure heaved himself out of his chair. "Your Honor," said Merrycoyf, "may I have permission to approach the bench?"

  "Yes, indeed, Mr. Merrycoyf," said the judge.

  As the lawyer lumbered forward, Judge Endicott commented, "When I saw you earlier, Mr. Merrycoyf, I thought perhaps you were here for sentimental reasons. But it would seem that rumors of your retirement have been premature."

  "No, Your Honor," Merrycoyf replied as he went through the gate, "they were not rumors, nor were they premature. But I have this morning been beseeched, not to say besieged, by my dear friend Miss Glynis Tryon to emerge temporarily from retirement."

  Glynis felt all eyes turn to her and wanted to sink beneath the floor. Merrycoyf, who knew her all too well, was exacting his small measure of recompense. She tried to hide her embarrassment by meeting Judge Endicott's bemused gaze with a bemused one of her own.

  "I must offer my apologies to the court for a lack of preparedness," Merrycoyf explained. "I was retained by Miss Tryon to represent the aforementioned Tamar Jager only shortly before departing Seneca Falls. Thus I have not met my client, nor have I talked with the young lady. But I have been well informed of her need for counsel by Miss Tryon."

  Glynis could only think that by now her face must be a livid red. And she could see Cullen making little attempt to conceal a smile.

  "Well, my congratulations on your return, Mr. Merrycoyf," said Judge Endicott. "May I assume you wish to speak to this autopsy request?"

  "Yes, Your Honor," Merrycoyf answered. "Now that I have some better understanding of these lamentable circumstances, I believe an autopsy to be absolutely essential. I am informed that my client's feverish ramblings dealt with a knife. Not with a head injury caused, in the learned doctor's words, by a blunt object. My client, Your Honor, must therefore be protected by a fair determination of the cause of death."

  "I tend to agree," Judge Endicott said, "that too much doubt has been cast to avoid an autopsy. Request granted. Will the clerk call the next item on the calendar?"

  Glynis wondered if anyone else in the courtroom had caught the subtle but powerful shift that occurred when Tamar Jager was no longer merely the Brants' "indentured servant girl." When, instead, she became eminent attorney Jeremiah Merrycoyf’s "my client."

  Erich Brant, to his credit, did not take vocal exception to the judge's ruling; not that it would have done him any good if he had. But when he came down the aisle past Glynis, she received not even an angry glance, so distracted did he seem. When she heard the door behind her open, then close with a sharp report, she then wondered if Erich's objection to an autopsy was truly based on a belief that his father's body should not, in his term, be desecrated. Or could he be more concerned about what an autopsy might reveal?

  In the meantime, Merrycoyf had lumbered back to his seat. And Neva, before she sat down, sent Glynis what appeared to be a conciliatory nod. As if to say, You could have been right. Glynis breathed easier.

  The clerk called the next item on the calendar. "Petition for sole custody of Tamar Jager, filed by her mother, Mrs. Elise Jager. In opposition to the petition is her father, Mr. Derek Jager."

  "May I assume," asked a surprised-looking Judge Endicott, "that this is one and the same Tamar Jager about whom I've just heard? Mr. Merrycoyf?"

  Again Merrycoyf rose to his feet to answer, "Yes, Your Honor, to my knowledge it is."

  "Very well. Are both parties here?"

  Glynis had sat forward with a start, looking around the courtroom for Derek Jager, whom she hadn't seen enter. As Elise Jager passed her on the aisle, Glynis was troubled to note that Waterloo attorney Orrin Makepeace Polk was also going forward, Polk's resemblance to a ferret more pronounced every time she had the misfortune to see him. How could he be involved in this?

  "Your Honor," said Polk in his shrill voice, "I am here representing Mr. Derek Jager, sir."

  "And where is your client?"

  "Mr. Jager received the show cause order late yesterday, Your Honor, only an hour or two before he was scheduled to leave Seneca County. On important business," Polk added. "At that time he retained my services."

  "Are you ready to proceed on such short notice, Mr. Polk?"

  "Oh, yes, indeed, Your Honor! Absolutely ready, and eager to proceed."

  Judge Endicott's thick brows raised only slightly before he turned to address Elise Jager. "You are the petitioner, Mrs. Jager?"

  "Yes, I am, sir."

  "According to the calendar, you are appearing, madam, on your own behalf?"

  "Please, Your Honor," came the voice of a rather young, studious-looking man who was hurrying up the aisle, and whom Glynis recognized as M. B. Blaustein of the Waterloo law firm of Blauvelt & Blaustein. "Your Honor," said Blaustein somewhat breathlessly, "I hope you will accept an apology for my tardiness. I have just this morning been retained as counsel for Mrs. Jager, sir."

  "I am very glad to hear it," Judge Endicott responded, removing his spectacles. "I've had only one prior case involving the recent statute allowing mothers to request custody, and the new law has raised some profound issues. And, given what has already come to pass here
this afternoon, I would imagine there will be some complications. Are you ready to proceed, Mr. Blaustein?"

  "No, sir, I am not ready. My client and I came today solely to answer the calendar. I need more time to prepare, as there are contentious matters in this case, Your Honor. I need to investigate all the factors involved, and would like to have this hearing scheduled for next week."

  Judge Endicott had begun to nod, when Orrin Polk stepped forward.

  "Your Honor," protested Polk, "I have a subpoenaed witness here and, frankly, sir, I don't want to take the risk of him leaving the court's jurisdiction. I therefore earnestly request that this witness be heard today."

  Whom could Polk be talking about? Glynis wondered uneasily. The witness must be a hostile one, else Polk would not be so worried about a possible disappearance. She turned to look over the courtroom and then saw the man several rows back who had come in just after Elise Jager; in his early fifties, Glynis guessed, the man had a short-bearded jaw thrust forward in a combative manner. His brows were the same light brown color as his hair, and his blue eyes were deep-set and sharp. Glynis felt certain that she hadn't seen this man before today.

  Judge Endicott, his frown and spectacles back in place, asked Polk, "Just who is this witness—and is his testimony critical to this case?"

  "Extremely critical, Your Honor! His name, sir, is John Humphrey Noyes, and he is the leader of the infamous Oneida Community just east of Syracuse."

  Oh, dear Lord! Glynis thought, gripping the seat of her chair. She recognized the man's name immediately, having seen it often enough in newspapers, usually being denounced by members of the western New York clergy in connection with his "free love" commune at Oneida. Judge Endicott's expression didn't change, though, so perhaps it was not only the Seneca Falls newspaper that he avoided.

  In contrast, Elise Jager's response to Polk's request was unmistakably distressed. And now Glynis remembered Liam Cleary's stammered report about the man in Mrs. Jager's hotel room. Might that man possibly have been a member of the controversial John Humphrey Noyes’s sect? If so, heaven help her.