Death of a Dyer (38 page)

Read Death of a Dyer Online

Authors: Eleanor Kuhns

BOOK: Death of a Dyer
4.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Thomas Bowditch and his wife hurried in, Thomas exchanging a knowing look with Rees. He was moved to clap the other man upon the shoulder in wordless sympathy.

Although he wasn’t sure Richard could manage the journey, Rees was surprised that Molly was not attending.

After several minutes, while Sally offered cake and tea or coffee to the group, Rees cleared his throat. “Welcome,” he said.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Mrs. Bowditch and Richard to arrive?” Potter asked.

“Richard is badly wounded,” Carleton said, stirring himself sufficiently to speak. Everyone looked at him, some with disgust, others with sympathy. In the sudden silence, the clatter at the front door floated clearly up the stairs. Rees jumped up and rushed to the top of the staircase. He peered down to the bottom. Richard, his face completely bloodless, leaned heavily upon Marsh. Behind them, Molly stood silhouetted in the light streaming in through the open door.

“Can I help?” Rees called down.

“I believe we’ve got it,” Marsh said. Richard said nothing, but he clung to the bannister with all his strength. Step by step they climbed the stairs, Richard resting on each riser. By the time he reached the top, and almost fell into Rees’s arms, Richard’s gray face was dewy with cold perspiration.

“He insisted,” Molly said, tears leaking from her eyes. “I tried to persuade him to stay home. I tried.”

“I have to know,” Richard grunted. “I have to.”

Potter swung a chair forward, and together Marsh and Rees helped the boy collapse into it. Lydia sprang to her feet and fetched him a cup of coffee, liberally sugared. Richard thanked her, his expression never changing from one of hopeless despair. Rees glanced d at the boy in concern.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” Richard said hoarsely. “Everyone knows I’m guilty.”

“Oh? And just how did you murder your father?” Rees asked.

“I hit him with that scutching knife. Everyone knows that.”

“Was he dead when you left?”

“Well no, but—”

“The blows by the scutching knife didn’t kill Nate. I have two eyewitnesses to that fact. Did you set fire to the jail?”

“No, of course not. But—”

“Nate’s killer went down to the cottage after you left—,” Rees began.

“This is absurd,” Molly said.

“So, who did kill Nate, then?” Susannah asked.

Rees ignored both women. “I have a witness who saw someone running away from the cottage after Richard left.”

“Who was it?” Susannah said, leaning forward.

“Please,” Rees said in frustration. “Let me begin at the beginning and go through step by step. Otherwise, we shall be here all afternoon.”

Susannah nodded apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Many past events culminated in Nate’s murder,” Rees said. “Some of those events took place many years ago and without describing them, none of you will fully understand why Nate was killed.” He paused.

Molly, whose gaze had been circling the room, exploded. “What is she doing here?” She pointed a trembling finger at Rachel.

“She has every right to be here, and so does her son,” Rees said in a chilly voice. “Especially her son. First Augustus was suspected of Nate’s murder and then threatened with his own death.”

“Forgive our poor manners,” Lydia said, her voice tart. “Please, continue.” Molly directed an angry glance at her.

“Nate was already ill,” Rees said as all eyes once again turned to him expectantly. “In fact, I suspect he would have passed on in the near future anyway. His murderer simply rushed him into the grave.” He looked around, his expression stern. “That night, two other men visited Nate prior to Richard’s arrival.” Someone gasped, but Rees did not know who. “First, James Carleton called upon Nate to press Richard’s suit with his daughter. He retreated upstairs when Marsh arrived to argue with Nate about the same issue. With Richard’s sudden entrance, Marsh fled through the dye room to the back. So, both Mr. Carleton and Marsh overheard the argument between Richard and his father and both swore that Nate was still alive when Richard fled the cottage.”

“That’s true,” James agreed heavily. Marsh nodded.

“I suppose it is unfortunate neither man remained; we would already know the identity of the murderer. But they left, Marsh to visit his wi—” Recalling Marsh’s secret, Rees quickly inserted the word “sister” for “wife,” “—in Portland. And Mr. Carleton went home.”

“Are you certain one of these men did not remain and bludgeon Mr. Bowditch to death?” Caldwell asked, his suspicious expression darting toward Marsh.

“Possible, but I doubt it,” Rees said, his gaze turning toward Richard. “When you struck your father and he fell to the floor, did you believe he had died?”

“No. He was groaning.”

“You knew he was hurt?”

“He was bleeding.” Richard strangled a sob.

Rees nodded. “So you went for help. Didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Richard said, looking at Rees in disgust. “I’m not a monster.”

“You and your mother are extraordinarily close, are you not?”

“This is ridiculous,” Molly said.

“Kate, the nursemaid, saw you from the window running up the slope from the weaver’s cottage. I’m suggesting you went to your mother for help. And she went down to the cottage in her turn.” All eyes turned to Molly.

“Now, wait a minute,” she said. “I’m not strong enough to pick up that wooden blade and batter Nate with it.” She looked around, and several people nodded in agreement.

“That’s true,” Potter muttered.

“I suspect you
are
strong enough. But that doesn’t matter, since Nate wasn’t bludgeoned to death. He was wounded, that’s true, but the scutching knife didn’t kill him.” This time, when Rees paused to gather his thoughts, no one spoke. Now he would be venturing into deductions and outright guesses and needed to take great care.

“Why would I kill him?” Molly burst into speech. “And why now? We’ve been married almost twenty years.”

“Jealousy,” Caldwell said.

“Of her?” Molly flapped her hand at Rachel. “I had reason for jealousy; Augustus is Nate’s son. But I did not kill Nate in a fit of jealousy.”

“That’s true. You did not murder your husband in a fit of jealousy,” Rees agreed.

“Then who killed Nate?” Susannah asked. “Did someone else visit Nate that night?”

Rees never removed his gaze from Molly. “Molly did not murder her husband from jealousy or because he deserted her, choosing to live in the weaver’s cottage rather than their home. I don’t believe she went down to the cottage intending to kill him at all. But she did. She forced a cup of poisonous green dye down his throat to protect a powerful secret.” He knew as soon as he saw Molly’s first relieved smile change to an expression of horror that he had guessed correctly. “I saw the scratches on your arm the first day I met you. Nate struggled, didn’t he? But he was weak.”

“A secret?” Potter looked at Rees skeptically. “What secret could that be? I’ve known her all my life; she has no secrets.”

“When I first saw Richard and Augustus together, I marked the resemblance between them. They are brothers. Look carefully, and you’ll see a similar look to James as well. They all share a father. But their father is not Nate Bowditch, it is Henry Carleton.” All eyes fastened on the three men. Once pointed out, and discounting Augustus’s skin color, the brown eyes, heavy prognathic jaw, and fleshy lips shared by the three were obvious. Richard, after a glance at the other men, turned to look at his mother in disbelief.

James stared at Richard, first with interest and then in dawning revulsion. “So Nate refused to allow the marriage because he knew Richard and Elizabeth are what? Brother and sister? No. Uncle and niece?”

Rees nodded. “A very close relation, in either case. Your father never knew about Augustus, but he knew about Richard.”

He threw a glance at Rachel, and she nodded. Clearing her throat and speaking very tentatively, she said, “He sold me to Nate before I began to show. I didn’t want Master Henry to know. I was so afraid he would take my boy from me. But Master Nate knew.”

“And of course he knew about Richard also,” Rees said. “I wondered for a long time how Nate managed to begin the accumulation of great wealth. Fetching James from London might account for some of it. But I suspect King Carleton paid Nate to take Molly off his hands. After all, she was not a slave but the daughter of a well-respected craftsman.”

“How can you stand there and speak these lies,” Molly cried.

“That is the secret you killed Nate to hide.” Rees continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “He knew Richard and Elizabeth shouldn’t wed.”

“Charlotte must have known.” James’s voice trembled. “She was so determined.…”

Rees nodded in agreement. “Your father must have let something slip. Your wife was willing to do almost anything to prevent that marriage.” He turned his attention to Molly. “You knew the truth of Richard’s parentage could never be revealed; you preferred your son commit incest rather than that. And you allowed him to believe he killed the man he thought of as his father. But it was you. Did Nate threaten to tell James Carleton the truth himself if you did not?” The angry and fearful expression on Molly’s countenance confirmed Rees’s guess.

“But how?” Lydia asked.

“I think she’s stronger than anyone believes. You told me, George, that she was able to keep up with her brothers in everything, and she was a skilled rider besides. I suspect she hasn’t lost those skills. You are misled by her delicate appearance. And the jail?”

“You aren’t saying she—?” Caldwell looked sick. “But she’s only a woman.”

Rees nodded. He knew women too well to believe them incapable of murder, or courage, or any of the other passions men kept for themselves. “Look at her. In boy’s clothing, would anyone suspect a woman?” Everyone looked at her, noting her short hair, her height, and wiry build. “At first I suspected the arsonist might be Richard, although I never quite understood why he would threaten his brother. But Molly? That makes more sense. She saw him as Nate’s son, Richard’s competition, and he would make a handy scapegoat.”

“And Nate?” Marsh asked, his face contorted with emotion. “She poisoned Nate?”

“When Molly came down from the house to study his condition, they quarreled. He swore he would tell the truth about Richard, and I think most of us know how stubborn he could be. He was already weak, bleeding from Richard’s blows. So she took a cup of green dye and forced it down his throat.” He turned to look at Molly. “Then you stripped off your torn and stained frock and Nate’s stained apron and stuffed them in the dye pot. He was a dyer, always messing with his roots and powders, so who would notice? You wrapped yourself in Rachel’s shawl and ran home. Nate died alone and in pain that night.”

The image kept everyone silent.

“I hope that’s not true,” Dr. Wrothman said, looking at Molly. “How could you be so cruel?”

Molly glanced at him and shuddered. “Richard,” she whispered, turning to her son. He refused to look at her, and Rees thought that if the boy could have risen unaided to his feet and walked away, he would have. “I did it all for you.” Tears welled into her eyes. “I didn’t mean to kill Nate. It was an accident.”

“It was an accident that you held his nose closed and forced poisonous green dye down his throat,” Rees said in disbelief.

His sneer sparked a flare of rage in Molly’s eyes. “I didn’t know it would kill him,” she retorted. “I just wanted him to look at me—”

“Was it an accident when you burned the jail?” Caldwell asked her, the harsher from disillusionment.

Rees directed a swift glance at Richard. The boy’s mouth was open in a silent scream.

“Or did you believe that if Augustus caught the blame and died, I wouldn’t search any further?” Rees asked.

Molly jumped to her feet. “I will not remain here and continue to be insulted.” Caldwell rapidly moved around the wall until he stood in front of the door, his arms crossed. “Move out of my way, your dirty dog,” she commanded.

“Don’t move a finger, Constable,” James said. “I think we all deserve to hear this tale in its entirety.”

Molly looked at Carleton pleadingly. “Jimmy?” But his expression went shuttered and she turned to Potter. “Georgie?”

“We want the truth here, Molly,” he said.

Susannah stared at Molly. “How could you do that? Murder your husband?”

Molly looked at her in dislike. “Don’t you dare judge me. Don’t you dare. You don’t understand what it was like living with Nate. You have a husband who loves you. Nate ignored me. For a little while after we were married, he was a good husband and we had Grace. But then he lost interest and spent all of his time down at the cottage. With her.” She flung her hand at Rachel. “I didn’t know he knew Richard was not his until that night in the cottage when he told me.”

“So why not let it go?” Rees asked, regarding her curiously. “Did it matter so much that James Carleton would know?”

She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “Don’t you understand? Richard didn’t know. And he wanted to wed Elizabeth. I had to protect my son.”

Rees looked at the anguished expression on Richard’s face. “No, you had to protect the secret
from
Richard,” he said. “You knew how Richard would feel. So you killed the man who married you to protect your reputation and give your son a name.”

“Well, she is none of mine,” the boy cried. “Not now. You murdered my father, tried to murder my brother, and by your whoring, made it impossible for me to marry the woman I love.”

“I was but fifteen!” Molly screamed. “King Carleton promised me I would be the mistress of his house and all his property. Then he tossed me away as though I were nothing.”

“He promised everyone the same,” Susannah said, sparking a sudden startled glance from her husband. “But even a fifteen-year-old should know better than to believe it.”

“You were a fool to trust my father,” Carleton agreed.

“I thought if you wed Elizabeth Carleton, you would succeed to all that had been promised to me and taken away.”

“He will anyway,” Rees said. “Nate ensured Richard’s future in his will.”

“But now we know Richard is not Nate’s son,” Caldwell said. “Doesn’t that invalidate the will?”

Other books

Texas and Tarantulas by Bailey Bradford
Hazards by Mike Resnick
Callisto by Torsten Krol
The Friday Tree by Sophia Hillan
A Demon Does It Better by Linda Wisdom
Museum of Thieves by Lian Tanner
I Know It's Over by C. K. Kelly Martin
Objects of Worship by Lalumiere, Claude
The Bridesmaid by Hailey Abbott