A Respectable Actress (34 page)

India stood in the doorway, momentarily stunned into silence. How could this woman
be so cavalier about murder? “So. Not only did you hope I'd shoot Mr. Sterling for
you, you lured that poor girl to the chapel. You must have locked her inside somehow.
Then you struck a match to the benzene and left her there to die.”

“I didn't want to kill anyone, but I had to have a body to be discovered. I left
my reliquary necklace behind so Philip would think it was I who perished. Who would
have thought a former slave would possess a gold necklace that would survive the
fire?
And that it would turn up in the ashes after so long a time? When Philip told
me, I didn't believe him.” Laura shrugged. “More bad luck.”

India frowned. “If Mrs. Catchpole knew you were still alive, why keep a shrine?”

“The poor misguided creature still hoped I'd come back to Philip one day. She doted
on him you know. She always did. It became annoying after a while.” Laura snapped
her satchel shut and left the room.

“But that makes no sense.” India followed her into the hallway. “How could you ever
explain coming back from the dead?”

Laura shrugged. “A long illness in a foreign land. A loss of memory suddenly restored.
An escape from a clever kidnapper. We talked about it once. Or rather, Mrs. Catchpole
did. I knew that once I escaped this horrid place I would never return.”

“And yet here you are.”

“I never expected to be spurned and left destitute. You, of all people, ought to
know how quickly one's fortunes can change.”

Laura advanced on India, her ice-blue eyes glittering with malice. “If you hadn't
nosed around and pilfered that letter book, and blabbed to Philip about it, he never
would have found me. With Arthur dead, I could have remained comfortable and anonymous
on Isle of Hope. Because of you, I'm forced to flee before the authorities lock
me up and throw away the key.”

The hard glint in Laura's eyes nearly stole India's breath. “It's you. You are the
one who wanted me dead.”

“Can you blame me?” Laura laughed. “You're smarter than I gave you credit for. Though
not smart enough to avoid walking into a trap.”

“What are you talking about?” India inched her way along the hallway toward the staircase,
watching for a chance to put more distance between them.

“Oh come now. It's simple enough. I knew if Philip had the slightest inkling someone
wanted to harm you he would bring you here, to his beloved old ruin, where he could
keep an eye on you.” Laura shoved India hard against the stair railing. “And here
you are. Dear Philip has brought you back to me.”

It took all of India's stage training to remain calm, to appear fearless. “Harming
me won't help you. Even if it can't be proved that you burned Hannah to death, Judge
Bartlett and Mr. McLendon know about your role in Mr. Sterling's death. I'm surprised
you aren't locked up already.”

Laura grinned. “They have to find me first. But they won't. I've become quite adept
at disguise. The one useful thing Arthur taught me.”

Laura moved closer. India could see beads of perspiration forming on Laura's brow.

“Now I want you to move to the top of the stairs,” Laura said. “They're steep enough
to cause a broken neck when you fall. I'm sure it won't be pleasant, but probably
not as unpleasant as death by fire.”

India shook her head. “I'm not moving one inch. And if you know what's good for you,
you'll get out now. Before—”

“India!”

Philip sprinted up the stairs, two uniformed officers at his heels. Laura clutched
her satchel so tightly her knuckles turned white. “How did you know I was here?”

“You were spotted boarding the steamer last night.” After assuring himself that India
was unharmed, he turned his gaze on Laura, his fury barely contained. “How dare you
come here, after everything you've done?”

“I came to get my things.”

“Paid for with my money. When I thought you were my wife.”

“You can be angry with me about that too. I guess I deserve it. But I'm broke, Philip.
I'm all alone in the world.” A single tear rolled down her face. “I don't suppose
you'd give me a loan. You loved me once, after all.”

“I loved the woman you pretended to be. But the qualities I admired in you were all
an act. Besides, you won't be needing money for a long time.” He turned to India.
“She is the one behind the plot to do you harm.”

“You always were a good detective, Philip.” Laura looked at the officers as if seeing
them for the first time. As if the crimes she had just described—bribery, arson,
murder—had been committed by someone else. “But I'm not going anywhere. Except to
any place as far away from here as I can get.”

The older, heavier officer stepped forward. “Laura Sinclair, you are under arrest
for the murder of Hannah June Washington. And for malicious intent in the murder
of Arthur Sterling.”

Laura's eyes went wide. “Murder? That's ridiculous. I'm not the one who pulled the
trigger. And Hannah June was only a—”

“Only a what?” Philip said. “Only a former slave whose life didn't matter? Just an
unimportant bit of humanity who could be sacrificed for your own selfish reasons?
Binah and Almarene deserve justice for Hannah. I intend to see that they get it.”

“You're on their side?”

Philip handed a paper to the officer. “She is no longer a Sinclair. Legally she never
was. This document clears that up.”

“Come along now,” the officer said to Laura, tucking the paper inside his jacket.
“We don't want to miss the steamer.” He reached out to place manacles on her wrists.

“I can't.” Laura shook him off, her eyes glassy and wild with terror. “I'll go crazy
in a cell.”

“Maybe you shoulda thought of that before you burned that chapel to the ground. I
don't want to hurt you, but I will if you won't come quietly.”

Laura began to sob. “All right. But may I at least get my handkerchief?”

“Be quick then.”

Laura opened her satchel and whipped out a revolver. “Get back, all of you.”

The younger officer calmly planted his feet and cocked his head. “Laura. You don't
want to do anything foolish. It'll only make matters worse for you.” He held out
his hand. “Why don't you give me that weapon, and we can talk about things.”

“I don't want to talk. I only want out of here. So please. Step aside and let me
go.”

“Now you know we can't do that,” he said, his voice low and reasonable. “We have
to take you in.”

“Then you leave me no choice.” Her hands shaking, Laura leveled the weapon at the
officers.

“Laura.” Philip's voice was strained, urgent. “I forgive you for everything. Let
me help in your defense. We'll plead mental impairment or—”

“Mental impairment?” Laura slowly shook her head. “I'd be locked up like old Catchpole.
The same as if I were in prison.” She waved the weapon. “Get out of my way.”

India's mouth went dry. Laura had killed Hannah and plotted Mr. Sterling's murder
and hers too. She had nothing to lose by shooting someone else. “Anyone can see you
are in distress,” India said softly. “Why don't you do as Philip suggests? Perhaps
one day, when you are better, you can be released. And think of Mr. Philbrick's tender
feelings for you. The sacrifice he's made on your behalf.”

A burst of sardonic laughter escaped Laura's lips. “Cornelius Philbrick feels nothing
for me and never did.”

India frowned. “Then why would he confess to shooting Mr. Sterling?”

“He had his reasons. If you can't figure it out, you are not as smart as I thought
you were.”

Laura's gaze hardened. She cocked the revolver.

“No!” Philip yelled.

He and the older officer lunged for it, but Laura stepped back, pressed the barrel
to her temple, and fired.

C
HAPTER
31

M
ARCH
3

T
HE MOST INSIDIOUS THING ABOUT EVIL
, I
NDIA MUSED
, is that it lulls and seduces. It ensnares before a person realizes it's even there. Evil lived at Indigo Point and had overtaken them all when it was least expected.

Laura's reappearance and her dramatic death galvanized the entire island. Once again,
Indigo Point became a beehive of activity. Neighbors came to stare at the burned-out
chapel, to assert that they had always known something bad had happened there.

The papers in Savannah were quick to pick up on the story, naming Laura “The Wife
Who Died Twice.” India found the stories and the neighbors' gossip distasteful and
distressing, not only for Philip but for Binah and Almarene.

Late in the afternoon, she accompanied Philip down the narrow footpath to the small
cabin where the two women had taken refuge against the tidal wave of sensationalism
and gossip.

At Philip's knock, Binah peered through the drawn curtain, then slowly opened the
door.

“Binah,” Philip said softly. “May we come in?”

Binah, her eyes swollen from crying, stood aside. India and Philip went in.

The two-room cabin was neat and clean and sparsely furnished. Two arm chairs, the
velvet upholstery shiny with wear, flanked a fireplace. A small wooden table and
two chairs were tucked beneath the window. On the other side of the room were two
cots covered with pink-and-white quilts. In one of them Almarene slept, her gnarled
hands folded across her chest.

“Mama's nearly wore out from grief,” Binah said quietly. “I fixed her favorite, hog
jowl and cabbage, but she won't touch it. Hasn't eat a thing all day.”

“Binah, I'm so sorry about all of this,” India said. “I know it's a terrible shock.”

“Where did you get my sister's necklace? People say you found it in the chapel.”

“That's right. When I first saw it, I knew it must belong to Hannah because it matched
yours. I was afraid something terrible had happened to her, but I wasn't sure until
I found some other clues.”

“Binah,” Philip said. “Miss Laura is the one responsible for Hannah's death.”

“I heard from Miz Garrison. But I don't know why Miss Laura hated Hannah June. Hannah
June never done nothin' to her.”

Almarene stirred and sat up, blinking against the late-afternoon sunlight. “What
you doing down here, Mr. Philip?”

“We wanted to say how sorry we are for this grave injustice.”

“What's done is done. If it's true Miss Laura burned up my girl, and Miss Laura is
dead now, too, then I'm satisfied. I don't
keep no hatred in my heart. ‘Vengeance
is mine,' says the Lord. I reckon He'll deal with Miss Laura in His own way.”

“At least Hannah's necklace is back where it belongs,” India said. “It's worth a
tidy sum, if you ever want to sell it. To pay for school or a new start somewhere
else.”

Binah frowned. “Somewhere else? I don't reckon I know where I would go. Long as Mama
and Mr. Philip is at Indigo Point, I don't have no hankering to go runnin' off. But
I might take me a trip sometime, wear that fancy hat of mine.” She clasped Almarene's
hand. “Me and Mama might just take a notion to see Niagara Falls one of these days.
People say it's a sight to behold.”

India clasped Binah's hand. “I'm going back to the city in a couple of days. But
I won't ever forget you. Or Almarene.”

“I'm sorry I pilfered your trunk. I never should have gone through your things. I
was just curious.”

“It's all right. So long as you don't make a habit of it.”

Philip held the door for India, and they went out into the early evening. It was
nearly twilight. Long shadows fell across the footpath as they retraced their steps.

“Let's walk awhile,” Philip said.

They skirted the ravaged chapel and continued past the carriage house, the tool shed,
the remains of the old slave hospital. What had once seemed so foreign now felt
comforting and familiar. India slipped her hand into his.

They reached the beach and followed the curving shoreline to the boat shed. Philip
propped open the door and they went in.

“I didn't know you were working on a boat.”

“I started on it last fall. But then I got busy.”

“Because of me.”

“Actually it's because of you that it's nearly finished. I came down here to work
on it at night when I was thinking about your case and couldn't sleep.” He inspected
his handiwork. The varnish had dried, leaving behind only a faint smell.

“Good as new,” he said, running his hands over the satiny wood. “Soon as I get some
new rigging, she'll be seaworthy again. I might decide to head out for a while. Clear
my head. Once my current cases are finished. I . . .” He paused, blushing, and shrugged.
“I'm babbling like a schoolboy, aren't I?”

India smiled. “You've had a lot on your mind lately.”

He leaned against the boat and crossed his arms and ankles. “I've been trying to
figure out the best way to explain to you about Laura.”

“You don't have to explain, if you'd rather not. It couldn't have been easy for you,
finding out she was still alive.” India paused. “She's beautiful. I can see why men
would be smitten with her.”

“
Smitten
is too mild a word to explain the effect she had on people. Not just me.
She had a way of drawing you in, making you believe nothing else mattered. When I
first met her, she told me she was a widow who had lost her husband during the war.
I was taken by her beauty, of course. But I felt sorry for her too. So young and
pretty and so recently out of mourning. When I proposed, she accepted immediately.”