Grace and Disgrace (24 page)

“That’s the entire point of our endeavor tonight,” Tuohay replied. He watched as Eliza pointed at the bare dirt before the stone. Thin grass, still struggling against the last vestiges of winter, surrounded it.

“The grave itself should be six years old,” she said, standing and brushing the dirt from her black skirt, “but it looks less than even a few months, taking into account the passing of winter.”

“We need to get to work,” said Tuohay, shivering as a cold wind blew past him. The fog receded as a curtain of slanted rain took its place. Eliza stooped over a rolled carpet and unfurled it flat. Dragging it beside the grave, the lantern light fell upon a pair of shovels, a crowbar, and a cord of rope.

“This is madness,” McNamara growled.

“No,” replied Tuohay through gritted teeth, “this is us getting to the bottom of the mystery. Literally, I am afraid.” He seized one of the shovels with a gloved hand and dropped his cane to the ground. Steadying himself with his good leg, he thrust the shovel into the grave with a crunch. The soil gave way. With a grunt, he heaved the dirt onto the carpet.

“The dirt goes there so it can be easily transferred back when we are done,” said Tuohay. He struck again, and the rain lashed down like a whip. “Mr. McNamara?”

McNamara stood with the other shovel in his hand. He remained rooted in place, his eyes wide with anguish. “I can’t do it.”

“Give it here,” Eliza commanded McNamara, holding a gloved hand out for the shovel. The old man hesitated. “Is there a problem with a woman takin’ over, Mac?”

McNamara handed the shovel to her with a grunt. “I’ve seen plenty of women digging graves in my time, Miss Eliza. During the war it was a common thing for the camp women to get to their work after a bloody skirmish. It ain’t ‘bout that, not at all.” He looked at the grave ruefully. “It’s… it’s just not proper, this course of action.”

He met Tuohay’s gaze, but the inspector was unswerving. With a soft apology, McNamara departed, the darkness swallowing him.

“So much for him,” Eliza said, squaring up to the grave with her shovel. She stabbed it into the earth and buried the spade with a well-place stomp. “Shall we?”

“The dirt is still loose,” Tuohay remarked, turning back to the grave. He thrust his spade in and broke out another chunk of wet soil. “The earth is fissured—it seems it was broken recently, and was packed hastily. Good news for us.”

“Should be a song, then,” Eliza muttered. She scavenged out a chunk of earth and tossed it onto the awaiting carpet.

With shared grimaces, the pair commenced digging, their efforts frustrated by Tuohay’s lame leg, and after thirty minutes he was digging from his knees. Eliza’s skirt was tucked into her bicycle boots, which were spattered brown in the lantern light.

The hole dependably filled with rainwater, creating a slope of mud that fought to fill the widening gap. Time became less a measure of seconds and minutes, and more a measure of shovel strokes and progress into the hole. Tuohay, his chest rattling, pulled his flask from his pocket and took a long swig. The hole was nearly two feet across and as many deep.

Attempting to stand, he grasped his leg as it buckled beneath him. “Cursed thing,” he hissed, using his shovel to prop himself up.

“Take a break, Jack,” Eliza said, her face flushed from the strain. “Maybe Johnny is done with that code and could come back and help.” From her tone, it was evident she was only half-kidding.

“I cannot leave this to you alone,” Tuohay said.

“Nice try, Jack. I’m not made of glass, you know.”

Eliza worked methodically, the rain battering down as the wind howled the call of the dead. All was lost to the pair except the small world revealed by the flickering lanterns: Eliza struggling against the grave, her shovel rising and falling, piles of dripping soil transferring in heaps onto the carpet. Her face was red from exertion, but white beneath, displaying a mixture of action and fatigue.

“Dammit all,” Eliza muttered on more than on occasion as portions of the hole caved in on themselves, leaving her knee-deep in soil to be re-dug. But she stuck with it, intense to the point of obsession.

The rain had subsided to a shower when Tuohay pulled his pocket-watch out. “Just after two,” he said. The hole was nearly four feet deep, but just wide enough for Eliza to stand in. 

“I cannot—cannot go on,” she gasped, leaning against the side. She managed a weak smile, but there was desperation in her gaze. “We’ll never finish this before sunrise.”

“Come out of there,” ordered Tuohay.

“No, it’s hopeless, Jack.”

Tuohay peered into the water-filled hole. “I need to finish what I started.”

Eliza eyed Tuohay skeptically. “Even in full health it would be nearly impossible. As it is, you are in no condition—”

“Please, Eliza.” Tuohay’s statement was emphasized by a chest-rattling cough. “Let me down there.”

Eliza took a hand up and climbed from the hole. The crunch of soil marked the commencement of Tuohay’s efforts as he slid in, and Eliza turned away to stare into the blackness surrounding her. Finding Tuohay’s flask, she took a long swallow and huddled in the cold, the rhythm of the digging lulling her into a fatigue-laden sleeplessness.

The thunk of metal on wood awoke Eliza from her doze nearly an hour later.

“Get the lantern over here,” ordered Tuohay, his voice little more than a rasp. “In the light, shall our evils be exposed.”

Eliza grabbed one of the lanterns and leaned over the side, allowing the light to spill into the hole. The point of the shovel rested against a slat of wood the length of a hand—the first exposure of the coffin.

“Well, you found it,” said Eliza. The sight of the coffin gave pause to the affair, and the two stared at the exposed wood in contemplative silence. “Jack….”

“I know.”

The silence endured for another few moments until Eliza broke it with a harsh whisper. “What are we
doing
? This is a man’s final resting place.”

“I need a drink,” said Tuohay. He reached up to Eliza who handed him his flask. Taking a long draught, he bent to a knee. The walls of the exposed grave closed in around him as he huddled at the bottom, his eyes on the exposed coffin. He traced it delicately with his fingers, the dirt around him crumbling down to slide over his knees and boots.

“What now?” asked Eliza. “Can we get the rest of it cleared off in time?”

Tuohay did not have a chance to respond before Eliza’s eyes widened. “Jack!”

A chill ran down Tuohay’s spine. “What is it?”

“Get out. Get out!”

Tuohay froze, the fear in Eliza’s voice springing to mind goblins and ghouls. He took hold of his senses and followed her gaze into the darkness. Baubles of lights approached through the fog at a rapid pace.

“We have visitors.” Tuohay offered Eliza his hand and she pulled him up, her boots sliding in the wet soil. He was wheezing as he grabbed his cane. “We best get out of here.”

“But what about the grave?”

“If we are caught, the grave will be the least of our worries.” Tuohay limped in the opposite direction of the approaching lanterns, Eliza jogging at his side. A voice echoed from the mist behind them, followed by another.

“I can barely see out here,” Eliza whispered. Gravestones rose from the mist like specters, some tall and looming, others short and crumbling. Tuohay’s breaths came in spurts as his face broke into a cold sweat.

Suddenly the voices rose to shouts, and the lanterns convened like distant will-o'-the-wisps on a dark location.

“They’ve found our work,” Eliza said, a tinge of fear in her voice. “Who are they?”

“Constables, I believe,” replied Tuohay, his voice strained from fatigue. Suddenly he was on the ground, his cane lost to the mist. He swore as he tried to stand, his lame leg tangled with a shin-high gravestone.

“Are you alright?”

A whistle pierced the air, and the distant lanterns scattered directions. Voices called back to one another as they progressed forward.

“I need my cane,” Tuohay said.

Eliza searched the darkness frantically, the voices coming closer with each passing moment. “Here it is!”

She handed it to him, helping Tuohay stand. His face was white with exhaustion. “Go, Eliza. Leave me here.”

“Not a chance, Jack. Come on.”

Tuohay suddenly broke into a coughing fit, his face contorting with pain. He attempted to quiet it, but the force of the attack was overwhelming. A single lantern seemed to suddenly edge in their direction.

“I think someone heard us,” Eliza whispered.

Tuohay couldn’t speak. Wiping blood form his lips, he waved Eliza away. Declining his gallantry, she pulled Tuohay by the arm further into the mist. The ground sloped down at their feet, the grass slick. An ancient oak materialized from the darkness, its leafless branches a twisted maze of claws scraping at the moon. Reaching the tree, they turned back to see the lantern light less than fifty feet away, the tramping of boots marking its hastened approach.

“He’s got us,” Tuohay hissed, leaning against the oak. Eliza circled around the tree as the yellow light broke through the mist.

The sound of heavy breathing came from the shadowed form with the lantern. The man stopped his approach and lifted his lantern up so that the light fell directly on Tuohay.

“I should’a known it was you,” said Inspector Frost, his voice full of wrath. “What the devil do you think you’re doing out here?
Digging up a grave
?”

Tuohay sheltered his eyes against the light. “Running an investigation, just like you.”

“Like hell.” Frost took a step closer. “What were you lookin’ for?”

“How did you know we were out here?”

“I’m the one askin’ the questions.”

A voice called in the distance. The other lanterns were lost to sight. “I’ll answer them after I get some answers from you, Tuohay. I figured out the little attack at the hotel was a
ruse
, probably to get rid of me. No bullet holes. No trace of an attacker, or you. This is some kind of game to you, is that it?”

“I needed some space to work,” said Tuohay. “Which, based on current circumstances, it appears you are not willing to give me.”

“Where are your friends? I know you weren’t working out here alone.” Frost carefully made a half circle around the massive tree, exposing the shadows at its base, all the while keeping a strand of light pooled on Tuohay. “Not hidin’ behind the tree, anyhow.”

“
If
I had friends out here, they would be long gone by now. As you know, I have this slowing me down.” He indicated his cane. “But as it turns out, I was alone.”

“You? With that leg of yours? And with two shovels?”

“In case one broke. A shovel, that is. Not a leg.”

“I don’t have time to jest. What are you up to?”

Tuohay leaned against his cane and regarded the shadowed form of Frost hidden behind the lantern. “The coffin of Father Abrams Valentine is empty, inspector. There’s no body in there.”

“
What
?”

“His death in 1886 was a ruse. A ruse because he was part of the diamond heist. But I need to see inside the coffin to provide evidence for my theory.”

“He was part of the diamond heist?” Frost laughed. “Half of the force thinks
you
were in on the heist.”

Tuohay wiped the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand, leaving a trace of mud streaked across it. “I need to know that the body is not in there.”

“You need to explain.”

“Not now, not here.”

“You’re not calling the shots, Tuohay.”

“Inspector, do you care about discovering the truth of the diamond?”

Frost took a moment to answer. When he did, his authoritative stance had changed to a more conspiratorial tone. “Look, Tuohay. You know I do. But do you think I have the authority to dig up a priest’s grave? On what basis? I have done some things in my time, sure. But
that
?”

“You are missing the point. From your perspective, the coffin was
already broken into
, and the perpetrators were in the process of re-burying it when your lights scared them off.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“I do not care about the credit, I just need to know.”

“I would need to check the contents of the coffin for signs of robbery,” said Frost. “That’s your tact, is it? Get me to finish what you started. But why on earth would I do that for you?”

“Not for me. You want answers, just like I do. Need I remind you of that?” Tuohay coughed into his sleeve. “And what if the diamond is there? For all I know, it very well could be.”

That revelation drew a breath from Frost. It was followed by a look of suspicion, but the initial excitement at the possibility could not be extinguished from his eyes.

A series of calls broke out from the darkness. A lantern appeared in the distance, cresting a nearby hill. “Now you’re just playing me,” Frost growled.

“I am headed to Doctor Kearney’s apartment on Washington Street in Boston,” Tuohay said. “There is a carriage leaving here at the break of dawn. My advice is for you to finish the job here—investigate the coffin, get to the truth. If there is a body, collar me at the doctor’s and I will not resist. But if there is
no
body, as I suspect—”