twenty-one

I cycled slowly toward home, thinking. Someone was lying. Was it Oscar? His dining room—and only his dining room—was ransacked with nothing missing. Combined with the locked door, things just didn’t add up. And he didn’t seem happy with anyone investigating him, me least of all.

Was Hilarius lying about his innocence? Zula had said Rowena didn’t suffer fools lightly. Had she wronged Hilarius in the past in connection with her employment as a lawyer? Maybe I should go back to Bixby & Batchelder and ask the voluble receptionist if Rowena had ever been involved in a case involving Hilarius.

And what about Elbridge? He’d said he wished he’d killed her himself. Maybe he said so to cover up that he had, in fact, killed her.

Zula could be lying. She’d clearly been angry the night of the suffrage meeting, and no one had seen what time she’d arrived home, or in what state. Maybe I could find a time soon to talk all this over with David. His calm, intelligent brain might be able to help me make sense of the matter. But I didn’t want to lay it all out in a letter. What if the missive went astray and landed in the hands of one of the suspects? Such a mishap would be most unfortunate—and likely dangerous for me.

As I rode, I sniffed. Beyond the ever-present scent of horse manure, I detected again the sharp smell of impending snow, a smell matching the slate-colored sky. What a blessing yesterday had been fair. We demonstrators might not have lasted the day standing outside in a snowstorm. Or we would have all gone home wet and cold and then contracted the grippe or worse.

A detour to the police station wouldn’t take long. I wanted to tell Kevin about Catherine’s report of a conveyance outside Rowena’s home. Unfortunately, once I arrived I learned Kevin was out. My small piece of news seemed too complicated to leave a note about, so I merely asked the officer at the front desk to tell the detective I’d been in.

I was eager to get home to Mother, whose visits were rare, so I steered my steed toward home. When I spied John Whittier strolling toward me I halted, reaching one foot to the ground for balance. Perhaps I could ask his counsel on these matters of the murder. We exchanged greetings when he approached.

“I’m off to a meeting with the trustees of the library. They’re planning to construct a new building for the library and wanted my ideas on the matter.” John had been one of the founders of the public library twenty-two years earlier, buying most of the books for the collection, and had been a trustee ever since.

“What an excellent project.”

“It is indeed. I fear I might not prevail with my views on simplicity in this effort as well as I did with our Meetinghouse.” He shrugged. “Regardless, I’m late and those fellows don’t like to be kept waiting.” He said good-bye and walked on.

“I’ll stop by to see thee soon,” I called after him. I wheeled away, too, chilled from the damp, cold air. But when I arrived home after buying the Newburyport Daily Herald, it was to the welcome sight of four round loaves of bread lined up on a cooling rack, the peaks and craters of their toasty brown crusts still letting steam wind upward. Mother was just sliding a pan of a dozen fat turnovers into the hot oven, with tops glistening from an egg wash. I inhaled deeply of the warm, yeasty air as I removed my cloak and gloves. My day was looking up.

“Mother, thee has outdone thyself.”

She turned and smiled. A white smudge of flour decorated her nose and her apron was stained with egg, ash, and something golden. “I like to take care of my lovies, thee included, while I’m here. I know how much the children miss Harriet.”

“It’s true. They are coping, but sometimes a memory rises up and one or another of the children dissolves into tears. Even Faith.”

“Even me.” She nodded. “Food always soothes the spirit. And I think I might stay an extra week or two, if Frederick will have me. was to have gone from here to Washington City to attend a national suffrage meeting, but it’s been postponed until the spring.” She frowned. “A rift continues between the factions. The National Woman Suffrage Association, which I support, is often at odds with the American Woman Suffrage Association, and the differences sap the energy of both sides.”

“Why are the two groups at odds?”

She sighed. “NWSA wants progress in more areas than the vote. We want it to be easier for women to obtain a divorce, for example, and are pushing for equality in employment and pay.”

“This group has ambitious plans,” I said.

“Yes, but those are part of our rights. Or should be. The AWSA promotes only the vote. It’s hard to maintain momentum with the women’s rights movement split.” She shook her head.

“Does thee think the sides will come together in time?”

“I pray so.”

I sniffed the alluring air. “What’s in the pies?” I pointed to the oven.

“A curried chicken filling.”

Curry explained the gold-colored stains on her apron. My stomach gurgled audibly despite it being not yet noon.

Mother laughed. “Have a bite of bread with me and tell me about thy morning.” She brought a loaf and the butter crock to the table while I fetched small plates, the cutting knife, and a couple of table knives.

“What did thee learn?” she asked while cutting two thick slabs.

After I finished my first mouthful of the chewy, crusty, slightly sour bread, I pointed to the paper I’d dropped on the table. “Harrison has it.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows went up as she spread the paper open. “So he does. ‘Harrison Will Go to the White House. Republicanism Triumphant,’” she read.

“Even though Cleveland received a larger popular vote, Harrison won the electoral college. The discrepancy between the popular and the electoral vote never seems quite fair to me,” I said.

“It’s our election system.” Mother shrugged. “Now, what did thee learn in thy investigation?”

“It was interesting. I heard from a neighbor of the Felches about a conveyance which passed by the night of Rowena’s murder.” Christabel strolled over and purred as she rubbed against my skirts. I picked her up, set her on my lap, and stroked her with my left hand as I ate with my right.

“Surely carriages must pass along all the streets with regularity. Did the neighbor think the vehicle belonged to the man thy detective arrested?”

“She had no opinion on that. Of course it could have been an innocent passerby. I think it was the timing she remarked on. I doubt Hilarius owns any kind of vehicle. He’s quite hard up financially.”

“If the murderer came in a conveyance, maybe the police have the wrong man. Had she told the authorities?” Mother asked.

“No. I stopped by the station on my way home to let Kevin know, but he wasn’t there. The neighbor, Catherine, is an acquaintance of mine. I hadn’t known exactly where she lived.” I chewed and swallowed another bite of the enticing bread. “After I left Catherine’s, I paid a visit to Oscar Felch.” I told Mother what he’d said about nothing going missing in the apparent burglary. “He was exceedingly curious about the details of when I found her, but I kept my tale vague.”

“Thee is becoming quite the detective.” She cocked her head, studying me with a smile playing about her lips.

I shrugged. “It’s something I learned from Kevin. If a criminal reveals during questioning a detail about the crime scene which hasn’t been made public, it can help the authorities to convict him.”

“I see.” She cleared her throat. “I want to let thee know I’ve decided to call on Clarinda Dodge this afternoon. I think it might further thy cause with her.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Is thee sure?”

“Yes. Does thee want to accompany me?”

“No, I most definitely don’t. Does thee mind?” I asked.

“On the contrary, I think the conversation might go more smoothly in thy absence. However, I felt obligated to ask.”

“I’m relieved. I think it might snow soon, though.”

“It’s no matter. I’ve arranged for a hack to pick me up.” She finished her piece of bread.

I smiled at my ever-resourceful parent and didn’t even ask her how she’d managed to arrange for a ride.

“Oh! The turnovers.” She jumped up and grabbed a cloth to take the fast-cooking treats out. Their tops now shone golden with the egg wash and the edges were a toasty brown.

I stood. “Thank thee for the bread. I’m off to do some quick paperwork before my client comes at eleven thirty.” I wished I had time to update my scribblings about the murder, too.

I tried not to frown at my last client of the day as she reclined on my chaise, but I couldn’t help it. Charity Skells, a fellow Quaker, had put on very little weight for a woman six months along. I finished listening to her heart, which at least sounded strong and normal. She lay with her eyes closed as if grabbing a few minutes’ rest was a rare commodity. She’d pulled back her walnut-colored hair, already shot through with silver, into a braid coiled at her nape, and her dark blue dress resembled mine, except the threads were worn thin. I expected she’d already turned it once.

I sat back and gently laid my hand atop hers. “Charity, is thee eating enough?”

Her eyes flew open. “I’m sorry, Rose. I’m just so fatigued this time around. What did thee say?”

“I asked if thee had been eating well.” She was a normally lean woman, anyway, all angles and planes. And she stood as tall as I. But I remembered her previous pregnancy, since the baby had been born only a year prior. That time she’d gained a healthy amount. The newborn had been of an adequate weight, too, around seven pounds, as I recalled. Not the chubby nine-pound infants some of my mothers birthed, but certainly big enough to survive and do well in the world. “Thee is a bit thinner than I would like to see at this stage.”

She grimaced, then pulled her mouth to the side, chewing on her inner lip. She regarded me for a moment with a face too lined for her thirty-five years, as if deciding how much to share. “Between Howard’s scanty employment of late and six children under the age of ten, I don’t eat enough, not nearly. We don’t have food to go around, and that’s a fact. And, you know, the children come first.”

I suspected what they did have to eat was potatoes and watery soup, too, not exactly the meat- and milk-rich diet I preferred to see my clients consuming. I had urged Charity to practice family spacing but had so far been unsuccessful.

“Remind me of Howard’s job.” I pulled the tape measure out of my bag and measured the mound of her uterus from the fundus at the top to the pubic bone at the bottom. Because the womb expands with the baby, the measurement is an indication of fetal size. This number also wasn’t quite what I would expect for a woman twenty-four weeks gravid.

“He’s a chandler, like his pap and his grandpap before him. But now, what with all the gas and electric lights, why, nobody wants candles anymore. He’s been trying to become known as an odd-jobsman. He’s handy with a hammer and whatnot, and the man can fix anything. But the work just isn’t coming in.”

“I dare say thee could bring this matter to the Women’s Business Meeting, Charity.” I jotted down the measurement and her heart rate in her chart before turning back to her. “They might be willing to organize temporary assistance, and perhaps spread the word of thy husband’s ready skills.” My grandmother’s clock on the mantel chimed once, a clear bell I’d been hearing for my entire life. I was fortunate never to have gone hungry, unlike many. And I was sure we had odd jobs around this very house we could offer Howard, if I could persuade Frederick to pay for the work.

Her shoulders sank and she shook her head. “Despite my name, I never wanted to ask for help. I’d rather give it, but I’m not in a position to do so. Because of my little ones, I did, anyway. I went to the women and appealed my case.” She worked her thin, worn fingers in her lap, staring at them. She glanced back up at me. “Does thee know what they said?”

I shook my head, waiting.

“They did offer food assistance, which I reluctantly accepted. Donations of milk and bread began to arrive this week. But.” She swallowed. “They also advised me to seek the care of a different midwife. They said they disapprove of thy stepping out with a gentleman who is not a Friend.”

So it had begun. Oddly, learning of the elders admonishing Charity did not throw me into the panic I would have expected. My heart did not pound and my hands did not sweat. I felt the inner calm of a smooth sea free of storm or turbulence. “If thee believes thee must see a different midwife, I will not stop thee,” I said gently.

“No! I don’t care whom thee loves, Rose. I trust thee, and Orpha before.” She sat up straight, the first energetic move she’d made since she arrived. “I’ll not leave thy care, and I’ll tell anyone who asks why I’m staying. Thee is an expert in thy called profession, but even more important, thee is a gentle and caring presence.”

“I thank thee, Charity.” I smiled. “Thee is indeed in a position to give. Thy faith in me, and thy willingness to give testimony about my skills, are a greater gift than any material good.”