Death in Salem (38 page)

“Please, sit,” Rees said, gesturing around the room just as though he owned the house. William threw him a frown but said nothing as he crossed the carpet to join his siblings. The deputy found himself without a chair, unless he joined Xenobia and Twig. After a few seconds of indecision, he dragged that chair closer to Georgianne Foster and sat down.

Mrs. Baldwin and Billy arrived next, with the street urchin Al close behind them. He had made some effort to clean himself up. His face had been recently washed, although a ring of dirt framed his scrubbed cheeks and darkened his neck. William turned to look at Rees with his eyebrows raised.

“I think we need more chairs,” Rees said, meeting William's eyes and daring him to protest. After a moment's pause, William signaled the servant and asked that he bring in some chairs from the breakfast room. An awkward silence ensued. When the chairs arrived, Mrs. Baldwin sat near Georgianne Foster—both ladies seemed glad of a friendly face—with the boys behind them. Al kept his gaze trained upon Rees.

“So,” William said, “who murdered my father? Well?” His tone sharpened with impatience when Rees did not immediately answer.

“First of all,” Rees said, “Jacob Boothe was not the only murder victim. Isabella Porter was also slain.” Georgianne made a slight sound. “And a sailor was stabbed to death with the same weapon as your father.” Rees's gaze went to the portrait of Anstiss on the wall. “A case might also be made, in fact, that your mother was killed.”

“I knew it!” Adam Coville exclaimed, his right fist connecting with his left palm with an angry smack. “And no doubt that crazy sister of yours had something to do with it.” He glared at William.

“Are you referring to my sister Margaret?” William asked, his tone icy.

“You know I am,” Adam said. He shook off his mother's restraining hand.

“Cousin Peggy never behaved as a proper woman should, running all over town with messages given her by your father. And where is she now? Why isn't she here?”

Al stared at them, his eyes and mouth rounding. He turned to Billy and said in an audible whisper, “These are our betters?”

“My cousin Isabella behaved with the demure circumspection of a proper lady,” Georgianne interjected, leaning forward, “and someone murdered her, too. I don't believe you can accuse Miss Boothe of anything on those flimsy grounds.” Both William and Adam turned to stare at her. Some of the angry tightness around William's eyes eased, and he regarded Georgianne with surprised approval.

“Who is this female?” Adam asked, gesturing at her with disdain.

“My father's mistress,” Betsy Boothe said. Darting a scornful look at Georgianne, Betsy added, “I would have thought he had better taste. She's nothing but a bluestocking.”

“Maybe I am a bluestocking,” Georgianne said. Her voice was low and calm, but Rees, turning to look at her, noticed the clenched knuckles bleaching white. “But I was not your father's mistress. And neither was my cousin, Isabella.” She paused and added, looking from Betsy to William, “He loved your mother very much. He wanted her to recover her health more than anything else in the world.”

Betsy sniffed audibly and Matthew leaped to his feet.

“Enough!” Rees's shout silenced everyone. Blows would be struck if he didn't intervene. “Shall we continue or do you prefer to quarrel? Matthew, sit down.” With a defiant sneer, Matthew remained standing. “Fine. Let's talk about Peggy, shall we?”

“I refuse to believe she murdered my father,” William said instantly. Rees acknowledged the comment with a jerk of his head.

“Peggy served as Jacob Boothe's secretary from her early teens.” When Adam seemed poised to interrupt, Rees added, “Improper for a female or no. Doing so introduced her to shipping vessel owners, captains, and crew, and also instructed her in the workings of the shipping business. She kept his books and, in fact, she ran the daily operations. And she knew the tunnels, probably as well as her father.”

“No, that's not true. She ran messages and handled his correspondence,” William protested.

“But she was always his favorite.” Matthew sounded sulky. “Who knew what she got up to?”

Rees ignored them both. “Yet father and daughter were estranged by the time of Anstiss Boothe's funeral.”

“Surely you are not suggesting
she
stabbed him?” William was so white Rees feared he might faint.

“Whiskey,” he ordered Xenobia. She jumped to her feet and hastened to obey.

“I don't know when Peggy set up her own shipping company, but it was in full operation by the time of her mother's funeral. She operated under the name John Hull. Since she was still assisting your father then, she was able to buy at least one merchant ship from the Boothe company, without her father's knowledge, I suspect, and give herself permission to use the Boothe wharf.”

“You're wrong. She was only a woman. She couldn't…”

“But she did,” Rees said. “This is not conjecture. It is fact.”

“But why? My father gave her everything. And she has—had a substantial dowry.”

“I believe she was trying to prove herself to your father, hoping he would leave his firm to her. But when she quarreled with him over your mother's care, he called you home to take over her responsibilities as well as learn the business. Fortunately for her, she already had her own fledgling company established.”

Throughout Rees's explanation, William's mouth gradually tightened, and by the conclusion he was bereft of speech.

Adam Coville, however, stood up and shook his finger in Rees's face. “Her own company? You mean she was arranging cargo and buying and selling? Impossible.”

“Mr. Coville, please,” Rees said, motioning the other man back to his seat.

“She must have had help,” William said. “Probably that Frenchman she ran away with. My sister was nothing but a pawn.”

“Captain Benoit worked for her,” Rees said in a dry voice. Thinking back to Benoit's manner when questioned about John Hull, Rees added, “I doubt he even suspected the ship owner was a woman. Peggy was careful to meet with him in disguise and only at night, in a dimly lit corner of a tavern. In fact,” he admitted, “I didn't guess either. Not for certain anyway, not until I saw her in the boat.”

“Was Peggy smuggling?” William gasped.

“Maybe,” Rees said. William covered his face with his hands. “But I suspect she was using the house in Hulls Cove to store her cargoes—especially after you came home and began listing everything.”

“It was Peggy who took the jewelry and the other things from the cellar,” William said. Rees thought he heard relief in the other man's voice.

“Some of it, I think. It was, after all, her cargo. But not all of it.” He moved his gaze to Matthew. The boy was smiling. “Where did you get all of your money, Matt?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Matthew's smile vanished and his voice came out in a croak. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I thought you might have been a smuggler,” Rees said. “But you were just a petty thief.”

William fixed his horrified gaze upon his brother. “You stole from me? You did. Don't even try to lie. I know when you're lying.”

Matthew's expression changed from anxiety to resentment. “Father gave me only a tiny allowance, not anywhere near enough to cover my expenses,” he said in a pained voice. “And when I asked for an increase, he said I should learn to live within my means.”

“But he paid your gambling debts and tailor's bills.” William sounded as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “As well as giving you an allowance.”

“There were costs associated with the plays,” Matthew said angrily.

“And gifts for the girls at the Black Cat as well,” Rees interjected. He stopped, his gaze flashing involuntarily to the portrait on the wall as he recalled Ruby and Lottie. He began thinking furiously.

“Did Peggy murder Isabella, too?” Georgianne asked in a hushed voice, shaking with grief. “I know a woman was seen entering the house.” Tears trembled upon her lashes and fell slowly to her cheeks.

Rees turned to Xenobia. “Would you fetch Betsy's shawl, please?”

“My shawl?” Betsy repeated.

“The one brought back by her father from China,” Rees clarified. Looking puzzled, Xenobia darted from the room. “I was distracted by Peggy and her secrets,” Rees said. “But it wasn't her secrets that mattered. Not entirely anyway. I heard about Peggy's quarrels with her father.” He moved his gaze to William. “The quarrels that precipitated William's return. I thought that Jacob Boothe knew, or suspected at least, that Peggy was disguising herself as a man and running her own shipping company. But that wasn't the case. Peggy and her father argued over Anstiss and her care. That was important.” Mrs. Coville suppressed a sob and Rees glanced at her. “Anstiss had been ill since before Peggy's birth. In constant pain, so I've been told, pain she treated with regular infusions of opium tea. Jacob wanted his wife back and denied her the medicine. Peggy couldn't bear her mother's suffering and fought with her father. He refused to yield, so Peggy brought the medicine to her mother. That disagreement, and Peggy's flagrant disobedience of Jacob's wishes, caused him to bring William home. Isn't this true, Xenobia?” He turned to the woman hesitating in the doorway. She swallowed and took a step back, clutching the scarlet bundle in her arms to her chest.

“Be careful with that,” Betsy said sharply.

“Xenobia?” Rees said.

She nodded. “How my mistress suffered,” she said. Something went dead in William's eyes.

“So, Peggy did murder Father,” he said. “In revenge.”

Instead of answering, Rees turned to Adam Coville. “You knew Captain Benoit, didn't you?” Rees said. “After all, he worked on a whaling ship first. One of your whaling ships, I believe. Probably
Anstiss's Dream.
Why, you or your brother might have introduced him to Peggy on one of her many trips to the warehouses on the docks.”

Adam Coville seemed unmoved by these questions, but his mother's face was bone white, her hands clenched. Rees thought that only Adam's arm was keeping his mother upright.

“I employ a hundred and more men,” Coville said shortly. “I can't be expected to remember every common deckhand.”

“I think you know exactly who Philippe Benoit is. He told me he was a mate, not a common deckhand. He was experienced enough to sign on to the
India Princess
as the captain. And that day I met you on the wharf, you knew the names of every crewman I encountered.” Adam pressed his lips together. “In any event, Peggy did meet Monsieur Benoit and, in her guise as John Hull, hired him as captain for her vessel.”

“No doubt Peggy's emotions overwhelmed any sense or caution,” Adam said, not troubling to hide his scorn. “She was attracted to him and so chose Benoit over the more appropriate men introduced to her by her father.”

“So, you do remember Captain Benoit,” Rees said. “He is a handsome devil, isn't he?” He thought that although Peggy's emotions were clearly engaged, her behavior had been both practical and logical. “He is also a skilled captain. The
India Princess
accomplished at least two successful voyages to the East.”

“And I had Benoit in jail,” remarked the deputy smugly.

Adam Coville rose to his feet and stretched out a hand to his mother. “Congratulations,” he said to Rees. “You've solved the murder. Now my mother and I shall be on our way.”

Rees held out a hand to stop them. “It makes a tidy story,” Rees said, “and I've no doubt most of it is true. But neither Peggy nor Benoit murdered Jacob Boothe.”

“But you just said…” William gaped at Rees.

Adam stilled, a vein beginning to throb in his forehead. “You're playing with us,” he said.

“I am trying to lay out my investigation so that everyone understands. You see, I pulled a sailor from the harbor. He was a whaling man, and he was murdered in the exact same manner as Jacob Boothe, with a whaling tool. And he was from
Anstiss's Dream.
” Rees pinned Adam Coville to the floor with his stare. “Where is your brother Edward?”

“At sea. On a whaling run, of course. You knew that.”

“And when did
Anstiss's Dream
sail?” Rees could hear the coldness in his voice. William shifted slightly in his chair but no one else moved. “I'll tell you.
Anstiss's Dream
sailed on the tide within days after the murdered sailor was dumped into the harbor. The ship was seen leaving the dock.”

“Of what are you accusing my brother?” A faint sheen of perspiration dotted Adam's hairline. “Of murder?” He dabbed at his face with a linen handkerchief. “That's ridiculous.”

“I am accusing you both. It would have taken two to hold him. But he was strong enough to run. One of you stabbed him in the back. He realized, didn't he, that you'd used one of his whaling knives to kill Jacob Boothe, and tried to squeeze some money from you. I thought at first you might have used a harpoon to murder Jacob Boothe and the sailor, but the harpoon heads were the wrong shape. The wounds I saw were square, and the weapon had to be sharp enough to pierce a man front to back. But I saw that sailor cleaning his tools, and there was one in particular, a square one with a long handle, that looked to be the right shape and size. A strong man accustomed to handling such a weapon could easily run a man through.”

Adam shrugged. “Let's say you've guessed correctly,” he said. “I have no sympathy for a blackmailer.”

“Was it you who stabbed Jacob Boothe?” Despite the gasps of protest, Rees continued inexorably. “No. I don't think you have the stomach for it. I think it was Edward. But you were there.”