13 Hangmen (27 page)

“The African Meeting House,” Tobias told him. “The Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society invited a guest orator tonight. And it's not just
any
speechifying abolitionist, apparently. It's the publisher of
The
Liberator
himself—William Lloyd Garrison.”

Tobias installed Jack in one of the only free chairs, near the speaker's podium. Jack should stay put and not draw attention to himself while Tobias searched the crowd for the local stationmaster. Hopefully he'd get word about which liberty line Jack should take north before Garrison stood to speak. With that, Tobias disappeared into the crowd.

“I'm Freddy,” said the young black man sitting next to Jack.

Jack froze in panic. It was also against the rules to speak with anyone besides your safe-house operator.

“It's OK,” Freddy said. “I'm a runaway myself, from a plantation in Maryland. But I'm working as a caulker at the New Bedford shipyards now.”

“I go by Jack.”

“I cannot wait to hear Garrison speak.” Freddy grinned. “It was actually one of his articles in
The
Liberator
that gave me the courage to toss aside the invisible shackles that bound me and begin my walk toward freedom.”

“You can
read
?” Tobias said, shocked.

“The master's wife taught me in secret,” Freddy admitted. “And then the master gave me a heck of a beating when he found out. But at that point it was too late. There was no unlearning my letters.”

“Well put,” said a distinguished-looking white gentleman now standing next to them. He extended his hand to Freddy, who shook it. “I'm William Lloyd Garrison,” the man said. “And I would be very much obliged if you would tell your story to the crowd, then introduce me as this evening's speaker.”

This Freddy did. The audience soon grew enrapt by Freddy's vision of an America that might one day exist. And when he introduced Garrison, it was to a thunder of applause. But as Garrison began to speak, Jack noticed out of the corner of his good eye a white man pulling a revolver from his topcoat. The man aimed it directly at Garrison's head. Without thinking, Jack tackled him. Freddy leaped to Jack's aid and wrestled the gun out of the would-be assassin's hand. More men joined the fray to subdue the man, then bound him in ropes. Tobias suddenly
appeared from nowhere. He grabbed Jack's arm and dragged him out the back door. The stationmaster hadn't had time to reveal Jack's next safe house, Tobias said, before the meeting had ended in mayhem. So they still didn't know which liberty line Jack should take. All they could do was hightail it back to the North End through the dark alleys of Beacon Hill, Scollay Square, and Quincy Market.

More bad luck. Tobias's nosy neighbor, Horatio Hagmann, was just returning home himself as they reached the front stoop of the house.

“What's this, then?” Hagmann said.

“My new silversmithing apprentice,” Tobias lied. “I hired him this very afternoon.”

“Silver thief, more like,” Hagmann said, sneering.

“I'll have you know Jack, here, comes from a long line of freemen from over Beacon Hill way,” Tobias insisted.

“No doubt,” Hagmann said.

“Now if you'll excuse us, we have an early start tomorrow,” Tobias said.

“As do I,” Hagmann said.

Tobias ushered Jack inside.

He was in complete despair by the time they reached the secret attic room. “I should never have tempted luck by taking you out!” he said. “I'm a Jonah. Cursed. Bedeviled by bad luck.
Always have been. It's why I've never married or had a family. Once a Jonah, always a Jonah!”

“Maybe your neighbor believed you,” Jack said. “That I'm your new apprentice, I mean.”

“Hagmann? Not on your life!” Tobias said. “He'll go straight to the constable at daybreak. He would love nothing better than to see me arrested for breaking the law about fugitive slaves.”

Auntie Sukey had already explained to Jack about the risk safe-house operators were taking—even in the North, where slavery was abolished—by harboring and not returning runaway slaves to their masters.

“Mark my word,” Tobias continued, “Hagmann will turn up on our doorstep at daybreak with the constable and half the slave catchers in Boston.”

“To get the reward on me?” Jack said.

“To get his hands on Number Thirteen!” Tobias said.

“I don't understand.”

“The Hagmanns have been after this house ever since Horatio's father, Ian, first realized what was hidden in this very attic: a treasure so valuable, he would gladly give both eyes to possess it. With me safely in prison, Horatio would be first in line to bid on Number Thirteen as soon as the city confiscated it and auctioned it off.”

Jack couldn't help but peer around the room. A treasure?
Where? All he saw was a bunch of dusty old kegs. His eyes rested on the parchment nailed to the wall.

“That's a riddle,” Tobias said. “I wrote it myself when I was your age.”

“A riddle about what?” Jack said.

“I can't tell you.” Tobias sighed. “I made a solemn vow never to reveal the answer. Only the right person is meant to find it and solve it.” Suddenly, his eyes brightened. “Maybe all is not lost! Maybe you'll turn out to be the right person in the end. I wouldn't be breaking my vow if you were to solve the riddle on your own, would I? And if you did, trust me, you would be more than able to save yourself from Hagmann's slave catchers.”

“But—” Jack began.

“I'll say no more on the subject,” Tobias said, standing abruptly. “As soon as I fetch the pistol I've hidden in my bedroom, I'm off to the front stoop to await Hagmann's arrival at daybreak. I'm not about to give in to any Hagmann—ever—without a fight. Meanwhile, you have until dawn.” With a wink, Tobias ducked through the hearth and sealed Jack inside the secret room.

Jack spent a sleepless night staring at the parchment hanging on the wall. Tobias had clearly meant for him to understand that the riddle written upon it revealed where the treasure was hidden, and that once he found it, he could use it to buy his
own freedom. Unfortunately, in his excitement, Tobias had overlooked an obvious flaw with his plan: Jack couldn't read. Few slaves could. Unlike Freddy, he had never encountered a kind white person on his plantation in North Carolina to teach him how.

Just before daybreak, Jack decided to let himself out of the secret room. If he gave himself up voluntarily to the slave catchers, the constable might not arrest Tobias. Jack closed the passage and set the heart hook on the spiral of the fireplace mantel while he looked for a place to hide it. Come what might, he was
not
going to lead Horatio Hagmann to the secret room, or anything hidden in it. Hagmann would just have to make do with the bounty on Jack's head.

Suddenly he heard the echo of a soft voice whispering
Where is
your
heart?
He turned to discover the room was full of white boys his age, clamoring for the treasure.

ell,
we
can all read!” Finn said. “Just show us how to open up the back of the fireplace grate with the heart hook, and
we'll
solve the riddle.”

“Except for one small problem,” Tony said, clearing his throat. “I don't see any fireplace in the room. Just some crappy paneling behind the bookcase.”

“What bookcase?” Jack said.

“What paneling?” Finn said.

“My parents put that up,” Angelo said. “When I was born. The fireplace made the room really drafty. And they didn't want me to catch pneumonia in my crib.”

“Well, the heart hook fits into the center slot of another iron knocker bolted to the chimney,” Jack said.

“There's a
second
claddagh?” Angelo said.

“I don't know what that is,” Jack said. “But there's another knocker, just like the one on the front door, that opens the back grate.”

“I don't see another knocker,” Finn said. “I see the fireplace, but nothing else besides a smoke-stained brick chimney with a crack in it.”

Tony shoved the bookcase aside. He turned to Angelo. “The two of us need to get rid of this paneling,” he said, “so we can see what everybody else is seeing.”

“How?” Angelo said. “It's a two-man job, and we're not actually standing in the same room at the same time. We can't use the same tools. We can't even help each other lift or move stuff.”

Definite problem.

Suddenly Jack looked alarmed. He raced over to the dormer window and flung it open. “It's Hagmann,” he said. “He's down in the street with a couple of slave catchers and a policeman, just like Tobias predicted. He's accusing Tobias of escorting a young Negro boy named Jack, wearing an eye patch, into this house last night. He's saying I must be the very same one-eyed Jack who's in all the morning papers
and
on all the bounty posters around town.” Jack raced for the attic door.

“Wait, show us how to get into the secret room first!” Angelo said.

“There's no time,” Jack said. “If I don't turn myself in, they'll arrest Tobias!”

“But everything will turn out OK,” Finn said. “I know for a fact you win your freedom somehow. You end up owning this house, giving up silversmithing to run the corner pub, giving
me
a job washing dishes.”

Jack flung the door open and bolted out, vanishing into the past.

“Well,
that
didn't go so hot,” Tony said.

“Now what do we do?” Angelo said.

“Look what I found!” Angey said, striding into the room. He was holding up an old Ouija board.

“Oh hi, Angey,” Tony said, to telegraph his arrival.

“Not him again!” Angelo said. “Now what does he want? We're in the middle of a crisis here!”

“It was in a cupboard down in the parlor,” Angey said, “with a bunch of other lame games like Parcheesi. Maybe we can use it to conjure up the ghost of Zio Angelo.”

“I don't really think you can talk to the ghost of Zio Angelo with Ouija,” Tony said, to fill the others in. “People just push that little arrow thingy around the board to scare one another at parties.”

“That's why we're both going to hover our fingers
over
it,” Angey said, handing Tony the Ouija board. “If the thingy moves on its own, then we know it's Zio Angelo.”

“Wait, I see it now!” Angelo cried. “It's the one Mama bought for her boarders, even though they prefer Parcheesi.” He turned to Tony. “Put it on the bed and play along with whatever I tell you. Maybe I can get you some demolition help.”

“Genius!” Tony said to both at once. He laid the Ouija game on his comforter, climbed up onto the bed, and told Angey to take a seat on the opposite side of the board. They both hovered their fingers over the arrow thingy. “Wait, I don't remember the rules,” Tony said.

Angey quickly explained: You set the arrow in the exact middle of the board, which had all the letters of the alphabet printed on it, plus the answers
Yes
,
No
, and
Good-bye
. Then you asked the board questions. Supposedly, whichever spirit was in the room caused the arrow to spell out the answers. You knew the round was finished when the arrow landed on
Good-bye
.

“Ready?” Angey said.

“Ready,” Tony told Angelo.

“Ask the board if I'm in the room,” Angelo said.

Tony asked if Zio Angelo was present. Angelo moved the arrow to
Yes.
To Angey, though, it totally looked like the arrow was gliding on its own.

“Awesome!” Angey said. “Ask him if Old Man Hagmann next door murdered him to get this house.”

This Tony did. Angelo slid the arrow straight to
Yes.

“Why?” Tony asked aloud, catching on.

Angelo spelled out the word
T-R-E-A-S-U-R-E
.

Solly and Finn clamored to know what was going on. They couldn't see the Ouija board, of course—and wouldn't have known what it was if they could have. Angelo explained as he went along.