The distraught young maid pulled open the door to the well-appointed Osgood home. “Oh, Miss Carroll, I’m glad you’ve finally come. She’s up there a-screaming.”
I cringed inwardly at the finally. I might have dallied too long at Mabel’s. “Don’t worry thyself. It’s what women do. I’ll attend to her shortly. Are the children about?”
“No.” She took our wraps and hung them on hooks near the door. A cylindrical umbrella stand was below, holding several umbrellas as well as a cricket bat. A telephone sat on a low table. “Mrs. Osgood told Nursey to take them to their grandmother’s.”
“Good. Please bring up fresh boiled water and several basins as soon as possible. Come on, Annie.” I lifted my skirts and trudged up the stairs.
“Where have you been, Rose?” Lyda wailed from her bed as soon as I walked in. Her face was flushed and the hair around her forehead curly and damp. The thick curtains were drawn and the only light was from the gas lamp near the window. The air was stifling. “I nearly telephoned for a doctor to come over, instead.”
I bustled around opening curtains and cracking a sash open an inch as I said, “We’re here now, Lyda.” Being well-off financially could normally make people more comfortable, but there was no avoiding the pain of childbirth. I scrubbed my hands at the washstand, knowing how important it was not to bring germs from the outside into the birthing chamber, and particularly not into the woman’s body. “When did the pains begin, and how far apart are they?”
“A couple of hours ago. They’re getting closer and closer.” As a contraction set in, Lyda cried out again.
“Now, now,” I said. “Blow out thy breath gently. If thee becomes tense, thy body will have more difficulty letting the baby come out.” She should have learned how to give birth after doing it twice before, but perhaps she was afraid of bringing another baby into a family suddenly without a breadwinner. Fear, of whatever origin, could cause a woman’s body to try to keep the baby inside as long as possible.
“Annie, please set these things out on a clean cloth on the dresser there.” I handed her the bag I kept in my satchel containing the clean scissors and tying cord, a tin of lard, a few herbs, and other supplies necessary at a birth.
Lyda’s pain ended and she seemed to see Annie for the first time. “Who’s this girl?” She frowned.
“I’d like you to meet Annie Beaumont,” I said. “She’s my apprentice, and an able one.” She was a novice, true, but one who showed great promise in both her manner and her enthusiasm for learning.
Annie greeted Lyda. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Osgood.”
Lyda closed her eyes in response, but Annie didn’t appear to mind. I waited to check Lyda until the maid had brought the water. I asked the maid to light two more lamps. We’d need illumination for the work of the actual birth, and the light from outside was dim, as clouds had blown in on our way here.
When another of Lyda’s pains had passed, I said, “Breathe down into my hand, now, Lyda. I’m going to check the opening.” I knelt and leaned forward to slide my hand inside her. As I did, my head commenced pounding again and I fought a wave of nausea. This position was a bad one for me. I breathed deeply, concentrating on feeling the size of the entrance to her womb. I slid my hand out and sat back on my heels.
“Thee isn’t ready yet, but I’m sure it won’t be long.” I swayed and grabbed the edge of the bed. My brow was damp with cold sweat, my palms clammy. Lyda and Annie both saw me.
Annie looked at me with alarm. She beckoned to the easy chair across the room. “Come sit here. I’ll help her.”
I nodded slowly.
“Are you hurt, Rose?” Lyda asked in an odd tone.
“I’ll be fine, Lyda.” I pushed up ever so carefully and made my way to the chair. “You’ll have to help her through the contractions,” I told Annie. “Wipe her brow, let her grip your hand. Prop her up a bit more on the pillows, too.” I let my eyes sink shut and tried to keep my breath slow and even. I held Lyda, Annie, and myself in the Light, praying for a successful outcome: a thriving baby, a healthy mother, no emergencies to challenge Annie, and a cessation of my headache.
I listened as Annie helped Lyda through several more contractions. I shifted slightly in my seat, hearing Lyda’s note rustle in my pocket and idly pictured the handwriting. I froze, the pounding in my head now transferred to my heart. Why hadn’t I made the connection this morning? Lyda’s handwriting was identical to that on the note Rowena had held.
thirty-three
My eyes flew open. I stared at my client where she rested in the bed, eyes closed, lashes dark on her cheeks, during a brief respite from the pains.
Lyda couldn’t have murdered the much taller Rowena, not in her advanced gravid stage. So she must have abetted Elbridge in the deed. Or put him up to it. And sent him to hit me on the head, too. Thus her odd tone of voice when she asked if I was hurt a few minutes ago. But why try to do away with your midwife when your birth is imminent? I’d think about that later.
Right now I had to decide what to do despite my aching brain roiling with confused thoughts. I had to tell Kevin, but there was no way I could leave the house to find him. I couldn’t confront Lyda, not while she was in the throes of her travails. And with my head in this condition, I couldn’t very well spare Annie, either. What about the maid? Maybe I could scribble a note for her to take to the police station. But what if she read it? Her first loyalty might be to her employers. Wait. I’d seen a—
Lyda let out a long grunting sound, a sure sign she was experiencing the urge to push. I was going to have to check her again. Women could tear badly if they pushed before the opening to the womb was fully dilated, but usually the urge didn’t come until the body was truly ready to expel the baby. I rose ever so carefully.
“Lyda, try not to push quite yet,” I said. I perched on the side of the bed next to her, but this time kept my head in an upright position. “I’m going to check you again.” Now when I slid my hand in I felt five knuckles-worth of opening. “Very good. Thy baby will be along soon.” I wiped off my hand and hurried to the desk under the window even as Lyda let out a long moan. Finding paper and a pencil, I scribbled a note for Annie. I’d seen a telephone downstairs. I prayed it would be in good working order.
Lyda and husband murdered Rowena. Thee must telephone police downstairs. Tell them to find him. Hurry.
I beckoned to her. She scanned my words and looked up, her eyebrows up, her eyes fearful. I held a finger to my lips.
“Go,” I whispered. Please let Elbridge not be about, and let none of the house staff hear Annie using the telephone. Lyda didn’t present a threat to us, unless she had a gun in her nightstand drawer, but her husband would certainly be dangerous if he returned home to find Annie talking to the authorities.
Annie glanced over her shoulder with wide eyes at Lyda, then hurried out the door.
Lyda commenced to make the deep guttural noise of a woman about to give birth. I moved to the head of the bed. My first obligation was, as ever, to produce a healthy baby without harm to its mother.
“Sit up more now, Lyda.” I put my hands under her armpits and assisted, but the effort brought on a new wave of pain in my head and nausea in my gut. I blew out a breath and sat on the edge of the bed again, willing the pounding, the sick sensation, to go away. “Bring thy knees up and thy chin down, and give a good push.”
She did so even as she cried out, her face reddening with the effort. I felt my own face turn the opposite color, knowing if I looked in a glass I would be pale from pain. When she was spent, she fell back against the pillows.
“It’s harder this time, Rose,” she wailed. “Why? I thought it was supposed to get easier.”
Maybe because thee has a guilty conscience. I palpated her belly again. “I’m quite sure the baby is head down.” I gently pressed my fingers in and around the top of the womb. “Yes, this is his
rump, not his head. And his back is on top, which is good. I can feel his spine. Maybe he’s tipping his face up, though, which presents a larger area to the opening.” I made a ring with both hands and placed it back on the crown of my head without touching my wound. “See?”
She gazed dully at me.
“When that part presents at the mouth of the womb, the head is birthed more easily than if this part does.” I moved the ring to encircle the top of my head nearest the brow.
“Will my baby still come out?”
“Of course. Don’t worry. It just might take a little longer. Thee has only been pushing for a couple of minutes.”
Another contraction set in, and another, and another. Still Annie didn’t return. Still the child remained inside Lyda. My heart sank to the cellar. Annie was in trouble. I knew it.
thirty-four
Lyda had been pushing for almost thirty minutes with no real results. I could see the dark-haired head when she pushed, but it retracted between contractions. Lyda grew weary. I myself was becoming ever more fearful, and now felt a portion of desperation about getting this child out.
And still no Annie. Had she been able to call? Had she gone to the police station herself ? It was true, I hadn’t made it clear she needed to come right back and help me. Worst, had she somehow encountered one of the staff—or Elbridge—and someone discovered what she was up to? If any harm came to Annie, I didn’t know what I would do.
But the immediate need was to get this baby out before it started to suffer ill effects from the intensity of a prolonged labor. I opened the tin of lard and scooped out a small amount. The next time the baby’s head moved back inside I wiped the inside of Lyda’s passageway with the grease. I only used it in extreme circumstances like this one, because there was a slight danger of the lard getting into the baby’s nose. But it was a better choice to get the infant out into the world and then deal with a greasy nasal passage than to let this labor continue for much longer. I’d seen babies become distressed after hours of pushing, and the mother’s exertion was exhausting for her, too.
I hadn’t brought over a cloth to wipe my hand on. I looked around for one, not wanting to stand again unless absolutely necessary. On the nightstand lay a delicate square of fabric. I reached for it, then pulled my hand quickly back as if the cloth were on fire. It was identical to the handkerchief I’d found under Rowena’s body. The handkerchief clinched the couple’s guilt as far as I was concerned. And it would for Kevin, if he ever got here.
I wiped my hand on the sheet instead. It would need laundering after the birth, anyway. I knelt on the bed. I was just going to have to cope with my head pain until this labor was over. As another contraction set in, I said, “I need thee to hold thy breath and push as hard as thee can, Lyda. Does thee understand?”
She took in a breath and held it, exerting with all her might.
“Good.” And it was good. The membranes at her opening bulged around the head. “One more good push.”
It worked. The head slid into my hands. I cleared mucous from the baby’s mouth with my pinkie finger.
“Now one more,” I instructed. “We’re almost there.”
She let out a yell with her eyes squeezed shut. The door, at right angles across the room from the bed, burst open. I whipped my face in the direction of the door, keeping my hands cradling the infant’s head. Annie appeared first, with Elbridge directly behind her. He marched her in and kicked the door shut behind him. He held a cricket bat in the air with one hand. The other had Annie’s right arm twisted behind her.
“What is thee doing? Let her go!” I demanded.
He pulled Annie to a stop, his eyes agog at the sight of a head protruding from his wife’s private parts. A trembling Annie stared at me. Lyda gave a great deep shout as the baby’s body slid into the world in a mess of fluid and blood.
I focused on the baby girl, who was limp and pale. No. It was as I’d feared. I moved her over on the cloth and rubbed her little body with vigor. She hadn’t taken a breath. “Thee must live,” I whispered. I picked her up by her heels. Sometimes the blood flow to the brain helped get the new life started.
The bat clattered to the floor as Elbridge fell. A thud resounded, and my hand jerked. The newborn took in a breath and let out a squeaky wail, her tiny arms flailing. I offered up a quick prayer of thanks. I laid her down again. Her skin grew pink in front of my eyes. She cried again, this time showing off a hearty set of lungs. She kicked her legs, then grew calm.
Lyda opened her eyes. “What was that … Elbridge?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Elbridge crumpled on the ground on his side. “What’s he doing in here?” Lyda asked. “And is my baby alive?”
“Thy daughter is well. I believe your husband fainted at the sight of the birth.”
Annie cleared her throat. “I had to leave a message for the person you wanted, but Mr. Osgood heard me at the end,” she whispered.
“It’s the afterbirth, Rose,” Lyda called out, her voice creaking as she began to push again.
I had no time to cut the cord. Annie hurried over and held the baby out of the way of the bloody placenta as the slippery mass slid out.
Would Kevin get here before Elbridge regained consciousness? He had to. Lyda wasn’t a threat, not in her weakened post-birth state. By the way Elbridge had behaved when he pushed his way in with Annie, though, he would most surely be a danger to us after he awoke.
I took the little girl while Annie brought me the tying cord, scissors, and a bowl. I tied the umbilicus in two places and severed the baby from the placenta, handing her back to Annie. “Clean her up a bit, if thee will.”
Elbridge moaned where he lay next to the sharp-cornered bureau, but he didn’t open his eyes. I was glad to see the cricket bat had fallen far from where he lay. I had no doubt it had doubled as a murder weapon last Seventh Day night and as the cause of my own wound two days ago. I grabbed the ball of tying cord and hurried to his side. Kneeling very carefully, I bound his hands together. I pulled the knot as tight as I could, then knotted the cord again.
“Rose, what on earth are you doing?” Lyda demanded.
Without speaking I tied his feet together, too, then pushed up to standing, which made my head commence thudding. I went to wash my hands, still not speaking.
“Why did you tie up my husband?” Lyda was shouting now. “Can’t you see he needs help?”
I still kept my silence. When Annie caught my eye and made a small gesture with the baby toward Lyda, I shook my head once, slowly. After I returned to Lyda and confirmed the placenta was intact, I set it aside.
“Let’s clean thee up, Lyda,” I said.
“All right,” she consented. “But only if you help Mr. Osgood. And for God’s sake, untie the poor man.”
I made no move toward Elbridge. Instead I wiped Lyda’s birthing area clean, and I pulled her nightgown down and the coverlet up. I stood with great care and went to wash my hands once again.
“Mr. Osgood, wake up,” Lyda called sharply to him “You have a daughter.”
His eyes flew open. He tried to push up to sitting, but with his hands tied he only managed to get up to one elbow. “I do? That’s splendid, my dear.” His voice was thick with grogginess. He blinked a few times. “Say, what am I doing on the floor?”
“I was going to ask you myself,” Lyda said in a harsh tone. “What did you think you were doing, barging in here while I was giving birth? It’s no place for a man.”
He rolled onto his back and winced. “I’m hurt. What in blazes happened to me?” He raised his arms in the air. “And why are my hands all bound up?” He tried to move his legs. “And my feet!” His gaze lit on Annie, who still held the baby. I could almost see the memory creep back into his brain.
“You!” he snarled. “You called the cops on me. I heard you. Why, I …”
Annie backed away, shielding the ba
by. Lyda stared at her.
“You what?” Lyda screeched. “I thought you were a midwife’s apprentice, not a secret detective.”
“I asked her to.” I held up a hand. “Don’t blame her for anything. I found thy handkerchief under Rowena Felch’s body, Lyda. And thy handwriting is identical to the note her body was clutching. Why did thee have to kill Rowena?” I asked Elbridge, but I was thinking, Kevin, where are you? Hurry.
“He didn’t want to, but I insisted.” Lyda lifted her chin.
“Lyda, don’t say such things!” Beads of sweat like nervous pearls covered Elbridge’s face. “Don’t say anything. Can’t you see Miss Carroll here is in thick with the police? We have to get away, now. Help me up.”
“Lyda isn’t going anywhere,” I said. “She just gave birth. Thee has a head wound, Elbridge, from thy fall.” And it served him right, too.
“I’ll be fine,” Lyda snarled. “Get out of my way.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.
For the second time in minutes the door burst open. Kevin rushed in, weapon drawn, followed by Guy and another officer, also with arms at the ready. Kevin swept the gun from side to side. He instructed the men to keep watch on Elbridge, then lowered the gun and stepped closer to where I stood.
“So, Miss Rose. All under control here, I see.”
thirty-five
Kevin kept his face serious, but I caught a wink aimed in my direction.
“I suppose thee could call it under control,” I said. “These are thy culprits. Lyda just confessed to forcing Elbridge to kill Rowena.” I took in a deep breath and realized my head had stopped pounding, perhaps from the relief of the police taking over this dangerous situation. “If thee examines the handkerchief on the table there, thee will see it matches the one from under Rowena’s body.”
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