Murder on Principle Page 2

  ‘One of the Sisters—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Will,’ said Sister Esther as she appeared on the path. ‘I made a plate for you too.’ Rees could smell the beef and water rushed into his mouth. ‘You don’t think I would forget you, do you?’ she added.

  An escaped slave, she had joined the Shakers several years ago and was now one of the two Eldresses. She had become a good friend to both Rees and Lydia.

  She handed the plate up to Rees and waited while he flipped aside the napkin and took a bite. ‘Constable Rouge said you found a body in the woods,’ she said. Rees, his mouth full of tender beef, nodded. Esther waited while he chewed and swallowed.

  ‘Brother Jonathan found him.’

  ‘He went out to search for the sick cows,’ Esther said with a nod. ‘I’m guessing you don’t know much yet?’ Since Esther had assisted Rees and Lydia in their investigations several times in the past, he readily replied.

  ‘We don’t know anything except he wasn’t local. That we know.’

  Esther nodded and with a quick glance at Rouge, she said, ‘I’m sure you gentlemen can do with some ale. Let me fetch some for you.’

  She disappeared again, down the path to the kitchen. Rees concentrated on devouring the remainder of his meal. By the time she returned, he had finished and after he accepted the tankard, he returned the plate and napkin. Esther handed an identical cup to Rouge. He took a large draught and then, staring at his jug, said, ‘I wish I could hire the Shaker’s brewer. Their ale is excellent.’

  ‘Not likely,’ Rees said dryly. ‘Finish up. We still have to collect the body and bring it to town.’

  ‘I’ll ride as far as I’m able,’ Rouge said. He put the tankard on the step and struggled to his feet. Groaning loudly, he limped slowly to his horse. ‘I think my feet are bleeding.’

  ‘Fashion demands much,’ Rees said unsympathetically. He knew Rouge was proud of those boots. ‘You should have guessed we would need to walk to the body.’

  Rouge threw him an angry glance. ‘Sometimes you are simply unlikeable,’ he said.

  Rees drove his wagon to the lane, and as far in as he could. Jonathan waited by the entrance. ‘I’m glad to see you there,’ Rees said. ‘I don’t think I could find my way to the body without your guidance.’

  Jonathan nodded. ‘Neither horse nor wagon can press through that underbrush. I took the liberty of bringing a wheelbarrow from the barn.’ He gestured to the small wooden vehicle. Mud and bits of straw still covered the bed. ‘I know it’s a little dirty …’

  ‘I don’t think that deceased gentleman will care,’ Rees said.

  ‘I’ll wait here,’ Rouge said from his perch on the bay.

  Rees and Jonathan exchanged a glance. Then, without speaking, they turned toward the woods.

  Even the small wheelbarrow had to be manhandled through the underbrush and over the thick layer of wet leaves. Rees didn’t complain. How else would they recover the body otherwise, unless he carried it from its current resting place, something he did not want to do. At least he had Jonathan’s help. The Brother bent back branches and cleared sticks and branches from the path of the wheel.

  Still, despite the cold, Rees was sweating heavily and had discarded his coat, placing it in the wheelbarrow, by the time they reached the body.

  THREE

  Blowing like a running horse, Rees upended the wheelbarrow and perched on the bottom to rest. He knew the trip back, with the body in the cart, would be even more difficult. For a few seconds, he stared blindly at the figure on the ground. Then he realized what he was staring at and stood up to examine the remains more closely.

  The young man was probably mid-twenties. His wavy, dark-blond hair was cut close to the head in one of the newer styles. Rees picked up his hands and looked at them. Although the backs bore several scratches, the palms and fingers themselves were soft and unmarred by calluses. He did not work with his hands then and Rees would venture to say this gentleman did not work at all. Rigor had passed off completely so although the cold temperatures had inhibited corruption, Rees knew his initial estimate was correct. Gilbert had probably died within the last two days.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ Jonathan asked.

  ‘The cause of this gentleman’s death,’ Rees said. He pried open an eyelid. Although the film that covered his blue eyes made anything difficult to observe, Rees thought he could see the red spots characteristic of strangulation.

  But the fellow’s cravat was scarcely disordered. Rees wondered if someone had retied it; the lacy folds were arranged simply. Rees untied the linen to expose the throat. Mottled bruises were clearly visible.

  ‘This man has been strangled,’ Rees said.

  Rouge had told Rees that this Mr Gilbert had been hunting for an escaped slave. ‘But this fellow does not look like a slave catcher,’ Rees murmured to himself. Too well-dressed, for one thing. Still, if Gilbert had come north in search of the young girl Rees had rescued from Virginia, maybe someone connected with the escaped slave Sandy Sechrest had moved to protect her. Rees’s thoughts flew to Tobias and Ruth. Although Rees had known Ruth all his life, he had only become attached to her and Tobias during the trip to rescue Ruth from the Great Dismal Swamp. They had returned just last month.

  Had Gilbert found Sandy and attempted to re-capture her? Had Tobias tried to save her? Now Rees thought of Tobias’s hands. They were not overly large. Would he be strong enough to strangle this man? And why bring the body here?

  ‘We’ll have to take him to the doctor,’ Jonathan said, breaking into Rees’s thoughts.

  ‘We’d better get him into the wheelbarrow and wheel him out of the woods. The light will be going soon.’

  Rees looked around. Here, in the forest under the trees, the light was already dimming. He did not want to be caught in this forest after dark. ‘Yes,’ he agreed.

  They lifted the young man, who weighed far more than Rees would have guessed, and maneuvered him into the wheelbarrow. It promptly tipped over and spilled its cargo on the ground. Rees shuddered as the ghostly pale face stared up at him. ‘Hold the handles,’ Rees said. ‘Keep it steady while I lift him …’ Grunting, Rees bent over and scooped his arms under the body. With a shout, he jerked the body up and into the wheelbarrow. Jonathan staggered but kept the cart level. Rees wiped his sticky hands on his breeches, only realizing when he saw the dark streaks that he had blood on his palms. He stared at them in shock. Had Mr Gilbert been stabbed and not strangled? But Rees had seen the bruises around the corpse’s neck.

  He looked up to meet Jonathan’s horrified gaze. The Shaker Brother swallowed and said, ‘Let’s get the body to the doctor.’ He did not say, and away from Zion, but Rees heard it nonetheless.

  With Rees holding one side to keep the vehicle from tipping, they started back to the lane.

  The front wheel caught on unseen roots and tangled in long stems. Jonathan was gasping for breath after only a few feet. Rees took the next turn; and soon found himself so breathless he had to stop. The muscles in his arms were already burning from the weight. His palms and fingers stung; he feared he would see blisters from this.

  Jonathan took the next shift but, like Rees, he could not manage for more than a few minutes.

  In that manner, they managed to reach the lane. By then, a significant amount of time had passed. When Rees glanced at his pocket watch, it was well past four and shadows had crept among the trees. In these woods it was already almost too dark to see.

  Rouge, who had chosen not to dismount, stared down at the two sweaty and panting men and then at the body in the wheelbarrow. He had the good sense to keep silent; Rees would probably have turned on him for any remark at all.

  ‘Can you at least help us shift him into the wagon?’ Rees demanded, staring at the constable accusingly. Rouge swallowed and shook his head.

  ‘I can’t. My feet.’

  Rees turned to Jonathan. ‘Do you mind?’ In answer, Jonathan took up the body by the ankles. Rees reached in and gra
bbed the man under the shoulders. ‘One, two, three.’ Together, they swung the body into the wagon bed. Rees pulled himself up and climbed into the wagon. Grasping the body’s shoulders, he pulled the head toward the front, grunting as he straightened out the cadaver. He climbed down from the tail and leaned against the back to rest.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said to Jonathan. ‘I don’t think I could have managed without the wheelbarrow.’ Still breathless, Jonathan inclined his head. Rees climbed into the wagon seat. ‘Thank you again. Good luck finding your cow.’

  ‘I’ll start the search again tomorrow. It’s too late today.’ He glanced behind him at the dark woods.

  Rees knew Lydia must be wondering what had happened to him. Clucking to Hannibal, he turned the wagon around and started for town. Rouge, who’d left, was out of sight. Rees was glad of it; he couldn’t be civil to the constable just now.

  Dr Smith was not pleased when Rees called him out of the surgery and was even less happy when he saw the body in the wagon. ‘The constable warned me you would soon arrive. I don’t understand your predilection for murders.’

  Rees shrugged, looking over Dr Smith’s head at the constable. He’d come through the surgery door and was standing there on thickly bandaged feet. He was quite pale and Rees regretted his ill-temper. Rouge must truly be in pain.

  ‘Bring your wagon to the back,’ Dr Smith said in a resigned tone of voice. ‘My nephew will help you.’

  Rees chirped at Hannibal. They followed the drive to the shed at the back. Rees had been here more than once, frequently with murder victims. A young man with a shock of reddish hair and bright blue eyes stood by the shed door.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, raising a hand to shake Rees’s. ‘I’m Ned.’ He was probably close to the age of the victim, but instead of fashionable pantaloons and a silk waistcoat, he was in shirtsleeves and a bloodstained vest.

  ‘You’re helping your uncle?’ Rees asked, glancing at the dark stains.

  ‘Yes. I’ll take over the practice when he retires.’ Ned glanced at the body in the wagon bed. ‘Hmmm. The constable said you found the victim in the woods?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t think he was killed there, though. Where did you go to school?’ Rees asked politely.

  ‘Dartmouth. The Geisal School of Medicine. Then I spent a year at the University of Edinburgh.’

  ‘Scotland?’ Rees couldn’t help but think Durham, a backwater in the District of Maine, was an odd location for Ned to settle. Ned nodded but did not explain.

  ‘Let’s get this body into the shed,’ he said. ‘If you grab the feet, I can carry his shoulders.’

  Rees hesitated and then nodded, unsure whether this stripling would be able to lift the upper portion of the body. But as they lifted the inert figure, Ned’s arms bulged with muscles that were clearly visible through his soft linen shirt. In fact, as they carried the corpse into the shed, Ned took most of the weight.

  They stretched out the body on the large wooden table. Ned opened both doors so the western facing opening would catch as much of the dimming light as possible. ‘Help me with the greatcoat,’ he said to Rees. As he began unbuttoning it, he turned to Rees. ‘Did you do this? Button his coat?’ Rees shook his head. Ned grunted and continued. Once the heavy coat lay on the floor, and as Ned leaned over the corpse, Rees said, ‘Allow me to fetch the constable. He ought to see this.’

  ‘I’m here,’ Rouge said, hobbling through the door that led inside the house. He winced with every step despite the thick wad of bandages.

  Ned looked at the faint bruising around the corpse’s neck. Then he pried up an eyelid and examined the milky eye.

  ‘He was strangled,’ Rees said, discomfited by Ned’s silence, ‘but I don’t think that was the cause of death. When I picked him up, I found blood on my hands …’

  Ned nodded and unbuttoned both waistcoats. He pushed up the white shirt and inspected the corpse’s belly. Finding nothing of note, he said, ‘Help me turn him over.’ When Rouge did not move, Rees hastened to obey. Once the back was exposed, Ned peeled off the jonquil silk waistcoat. The back of the silk vest was stained a dark brownish red. The red waistcoat was next; it too was stiff with dried blood. ‘He was stabbed,’ Ned said, gesturing at the white linen shirt. Even with the bloodstains, Rees could see the long rip in the linen. When Ned lifted the fabric to expose the skin, the long and deep gash was obvious. ‘Strangled and stabbed. But it was the stabbing that killed him,’ Ned said. ‘Was there a pool of blood where he was found?’

  ‘No,’ Rees said. ‘Not on the ground anyway.’ He looked at his hands and then up at Rouge who shook his head.

  ‘There was nothing.’

  ‘As I said, I believe he was murdered somewhere else,’ Rees said.

  ‘But I’m confused,’ Rouge said, turning to Ned. ‘Were there two murderers?’

  Ned shrugged. ‘Not necessarily. It could be there was only one – but he became impatient. Strangling another fellow is neither easy nor quick. And this poor gentleman here on my table might have had enough sense remaining to attempt to flee. The murderer picked up a knife and …’

  ‘Stabbed him in the back,’ Rees said.

  Ned nodded. ‘He was dead before the killer hid him in the woods. And he’s been there since …’ He pointed at the red and purple mottling on the back. Rees, who was familiar with the pooling of the blood at the lowest point of the body, nodded.

  ‘How much time passed between his death and the placement of the body in the woods?’ Rees asked.

  ‘Oh, almost none, I would say,’ Ned replied as he leaned forward and peered at the blotchy skin. ‘His killer was exceedingly determined. Look here.’ Motioning Rees to his side, Ned pointed to the victim’s back. ‘Do you see this? The darker bruise underneath the stab wound?’ Rees bent forward and peered at the wound. He could smell the faint odor of decomposition and put his hand over his nose and mouth. But, as he stared at the wound, he saw what Ned had noted: a darker squarer bruise underneath the discoloration left by the pooling blood.

  ‘What do you think?’ Rees asked. ‘The hilt of a knife?’

  ‘I’d say so,’ Ned replied. ‘This does not look like an unusual wound. Made by an ordinary kitchen knife probably.’ Picking up the greatcoat, he spread it out and stroked the inside with his hands. ‘Soaked with blood,’ he muttered.

  ‘Wouldn’t the blood have gotten on the killer’s clothing?’ Rees asked.

  ‘Most likely,’ Ned said. Picking up a rag, he began wiping his hands. ‘He would have been covered with it. The victim bled heavily. You’ll know where this man was murdered when you find a large bloodstain.’

  ‘If the clothing absorbed the blood,’ Rouge said, ‘why would there be a bloodstain?’

  ‘Because the greatcoat was put on after. He wasn’t wearing it when he was stabbed. After his death, he was re-dressed and discarded in the woods.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Rees asked curiously.

  ‘You have here a dandy, his clothing expensive and the latest fashion. He would not leave any establishment with his coat buttoned improperly.’ Rees nodded slowly. That made sense.

  ‘He might if he were in his cups,’ Rouge argued belligerently.

  ‘Perhaps. But there is no smell of alcohol. I believe this man was sober.’ Ned stared at Rouge.

  ‘And where do you suggest we look?’ Rouge asked. Ned lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

  ‘That’s your first task, I suppose,’ he said, unmoved by Rouge’s frustration.

  Rouge muttered a curse under his breath.

  ‘One other thing,’ Ned said. Rees looked at him. ‘The motive for Mr Gilbert’s murder was not robbery. He had a significant amount of money on his person. I will put it aside, in case we ever find a relative we can send it to. Otherwise, we will use some of it for his burial.’

  FOUR

  Night was fast approaching as Rees left town. Everything had taken far longer to do than he’d expected. He knew Lydia would be worried. He’d hoped, moreove
r, to stop in and visit Tobias and Ruth. Did they know this gentleman? Did Sandy, the young woman who had fled north with them? If they did, and she did, and Mr Gilbert had come north with the sole purpose of recapturing these people, they could be involved in his murder. Rees did not want to think it but the possibility kept running through his mind.

  Now his visit would have to wait until tomorrow. But tomorrow Lydia could accompany him. That was the silver lining. She frequently could draw information from women that Rees himself would never have gotten.

  He flicked the reins over Hannibal’s back, urging him to run faster. The light was fading very quickly, even on the open road. Hannibal seemed eager also to reach his stall in the barn and have his supper; he broke into a rapid trot. The rhythmic clip-clopping of his hooves was curiously soothing, and Rees found his thoughts drifting to the murder.

  Randolph Gilbert had come a long way to recapture Sandy. Although slave takers regularly searched the Northern states for escapees, Mr Gilbert was not one of the disreputable men whose livelihood rested on capturing these unfortunates. Besides, the hunt for Sandy seemed oddly specific. What was she to him?

  Then there was the murder itself. Mr Gilbert had been both strangled and stabbed. Rees’s first thought was that two people, acting in concert, had been involved. Thus far, he had no reason to suspect Tobias or Ruth, but Sandy Sechrest was living with them. Would they murder a man to keep their friend safe?

  By the time he reached his farm gates, darkness had fallen and since the waxing moon had not yet risen, the farmyard was black. Rees unhitched Hannibal and released him into the paddock. It was far too dark to put the wagon away, and Rees didn’t feel like struggling with his tinder box to light the lantern that hung on the nail by the door. Instead, he ran up the steps. Lydia flung open the door as he reached for the handle.