The Burying Ground (13 page)

“Mr. Ryan's father owns an ironworks,” Lavinia interjected. “It's very successful and he has hopes of expanding. And Miss Thomas's father owns a cooperage.”

A marriage not only of children, but of business concerns,
Luke thought. He didn't give the merger much of a chance, if Arthur Ryan's scowl was anything to go by.

“What do you hear of the proposal for a Toronto industrial exhibition, Arthur?” Perry asked.

Arthur shrugged. “Oh, I don't really know,” he said.

“Exhibition?” Luke asked. Both his father and Dr. Christie had been fascinated by newspaper accounts of the Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations and had spent an entire mealtime regaling each other with snippets of information about the wonders that were on display. The London palace of iron and glass that housed the exhibition was itself a marvel, the perfect setting for thousands of displays of mechanical and industrial ingenuity, from the latest in agricultural implements to a demonstration of Mr. Colt's repeat action revolver. Thaddeus was intrigued by the newest contraptions; Dr. Christie, on the other hand, read out descriptions of the more novel exhibits like the Koh-i-Noor diamond, the largest in the world; a four-sided piano; huge Russian vases twice the height of a man fashioned from porcelain and malachite; and an elaborate howdah draped across the back of a stuffed elephant. They were both fascinated by the descriptions of the retiring rooms, where a system was set up to flush away human waste using water.

“Everyone wants an exhibition now that the one in London has proved so successful,” Perry said. “The good burghers of Toronto are rubbing their hands in glee at the notion of charging people for the privilege of inspecting their wares. There's talk of using the Caer Howell Pleasure Grounds, especially if Mrs. Boulton can be persuaded to loan out the horse park next door. No doubt someone will want to build a replica of the Crystal Palace — in which case I would think that Mr. Ryan's father might do quite well out of it if he moves smartly.”

“What are the Caer Howell Pleasure Grounds?” Luke had a mental vision of harems and Turkish baths, but he found it difficult to believe that anything so exotic could flourish in a city as staid as Toronto.

“Oh, it's just a place to play cricket and rackets,” Perry said. “Full of sweaty athletic types. It's quite boring really, but I'll take you there sometime if you like. There's an archery range — I could shoot an arrow through you.”

Luke wasn't sure how to respond to this. Perry's innuendo made him uncomfortable, although the only other person at the table who appeared to notice was Lavinia, who shot a sharp glance at Perry.

“It would be quite wonderful to see the London Exhibition first hand, wouldn't it?” Cherub said. There was a dreamy note to her voice. “I'd love to travel to different places, see different things.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Grace said. “It seems such a bother when everything you could want is right here. All the fuss of packing, just for starters. And then there's the journey itself. I'm sure I'd get quite queasy on a ship. And there's no guarantee that I'd like anything once I got there. Different food, different customs. No, I'd rather stay put, thank you.”

“And so you shall,” Arthur said. “Much the best plan.”

Cherub indulged herself with a small grimace. Perry laughed. Luke wanted to, but his good manners stopped him just in time.

As it turned out, Arthur Ryan had not travelled with Perry. The party began to break up after they all consumed several cups of tea, exchanged a few bits of gossip, and participated in three or four long conversations about a number of determinedly non-controversial topics. It was a far cry from the spirited debates that took place at Christie's table. Luke wondered what would happen if he suddenly,
à la
the good doctor, announced that someone or other should be sent to the hangman. He suspected that Perry would laugh. So might Lavinia. And Cherub. He stifled the impulse. He didn't want to be considered an amusing guest. He didn't want to be a guest at all.

Perry left first, then Luke said his goodbyes and found himself standing in front of the house with Arthur.

“It was nice to meet you,” he said.

Arthur merely nodded at him and set off down the street, signally quite clearly that he was uninterested in a companionable walk. As he was travelling in the same direction, Luke let him get a good head start, then trudged after him. He had walked as far as the corner when someone hailed him. It was Perry.

“Climb up,” he said. “I've got the carriage for the rest of the day. I'll give you a ride home.”

Luke hesitated. He didn't really want to associate with Perry any more than he did with the Van Hansels, but unlike Arthur Ryan, he felt it was churlish to decline and walk off when they were going the same way.

“Oh, come on, I don't bite.”

Luke climbed up into the vehicle.

“Well, that was a tedious afternoon,” Perry announced. “What would you like to do now?”

“I really need to be getting back to Yorkville,” Luke said, although this wasn't strictly true. Dr. Christie had urged him to take his time and make the most of the occasion.

“Surely you have time for a small drink of something besides tea?” Perry said. “Especially since I'm saving you all sorts of time. I need a reward for being so bored.”

“No, Perry, I can't. I have to go back,” Luke said with what he hoped was a firm tone.

“I promise not to make eyes at you. We had quite enough of that from the young lady — what was her name again? Walter Thomas has a raft of girls and they're all called something like Patience or Prudence or Charity. I can never keep them straight.”

“Grace,” Luke said. “Her name was Grace.”

“Grace? Was it really? In any event, there's quite a passel to get safely married off. Lavinia must be rubbing her hands with glee at the prospect of how much the good Mr. Thomas will owe the Van Hansels if she engineers suitable matches for them all. Poor Arthur. He's as good as hogtied and delivered at this point and he knows it. So what do you say?” Perry was about to pull the carriage into an alleyway.

“No. Drive.”

Perry frowned, but did as he was directed.

More to break the silence than anything, Luke said, “So has Lavinia found a match for you yet?” He meant it as a joke, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

“No, but I'm sure she's looking.” Perry sounded glum. “One of these days she'll find one. And I may have to agree to it.”

“Does she know? That you're …”

“Basically not interested?” Perry was silent for a moment before he confided, “Of course she knows. She's no fool. Father, on the other hand, hasn't a clue. He thinks my lack of eligibility is a result of my lamentable lack of initiative. My brother Theo, now, there's a catch. Everything a father could hope for. Lavinia would love to get her hooks into Theo, but there's little chance of that. He'll be found a suitable wife within our own circle here. Here or in England. No chance for anyone the Van Hansels might know. I, on the other hand, can be fobbed off on anyone as long as her father has enough money.”

“I don't understand how you got tangled up with the Van Hansels in the first place,” Luke said.

“I knew Arthur and he invited me along to a party one night.” Perry cast a sidelong look at Luke. “No, it wasn't that. I just knew him. I can't even remember where I met him. Toronto's not that big a place, you know. Everybody meets everybody sooner or later. Anyway, when father found out where I'd been, he suggested that I cultivate the connection. Lavinia was delighted, of course, to be able to present a Biddulph to her bevy of prospective brides, and I was just as happy to do it, since it meant that father stopped ranting at me, at least for a while.” He pursed his lips while he chose his next words. “At first I thought it was just my name she was after — as an ornament if you like — and then it became something else.”

He flicked the reins and turned the horse into a side street off Yonge. “You see this stretch of trees?”

To Luke it looked like every other section of undeveloped land in the northern regions of the city. Undivided park lots, most of them, not yet carved up into a patchwork of shops and houses.

“This belonged to Alexander Wood,” Perry said.

The name meant nothing to Luke.

“Most people call it Molly Wood's Bush.”

“Was Molly his wife or something?”

No, Alexander Wood had no wife. The story goes a long way back. Back to when Toronto was still Muddy York. Wood was a magistrate. There was supposedly a rape, and the victim went to Wood to lodge a complaint. The young woman claimed that she didn't know the identity of the man who attacked her, but that she scratched his privates while fending him off. Wood decided to personally inspect the genitals of the suspects — of which there seemed to be rather a large number. He also inspected very closely. Someone complained and soon rumours were flying that Wood had made the whole thing up as an excuse to fondle young men. He became the object of ridicule and scorn. Someone dubbed him ‘The Inspector General of Private Accounts' and the nickname stuck like a piece of horse dung.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was persuaded to leave Upper Canada for a time to escape the scandal. He returned a few years later, but the old stories kept following him around. He owned this lot but he didn't ever get around to building a house on it. It's been known as ‘Molly Wood's Bush' ever since. Now have you figured out what a molly is?”

Luke felt slightly sick. He didn't like the way this conversation was playing out.

“Anyway,” Perry went on, “he died a few years ago. He had no heirs, of course. So while the courts try to decide what's to become of his property, his woods have become a favourite meeting place.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke had no intention of going anywhere near Molly Wood's Bush. He didn't want to meet anyone. He just wanted to go back to Dr. Christie's house, sit in the office, and do his best to ignore Mul-Sack.

“I'm telling you because there's something Lavinia wants me to find there. But I don't know what it is.”

“What sort of something?”

“I don't know. And neither does she. But she's starting to get frantic about it. I'd tell her to go away and leave me alone, but I'm afraid she'll carry tales to my father. She's quite capable of doing something like that if she's crossed.”

Luke felt so tense he thought some of his bones must soon crack. “What would your father do if she did?”

“Throw me out. Cut me off. Have me charged. I don't know.”

“What do you mean charged? With what?”

Perry turned to look at him, astonished. “With sodomy, of course. It's a hanging offence in this province. Hardly anyone is ever arrested, mind you, and even then no one has ever actually been executed for it. But there are a few who have been sent to jail. I can't go to jail, Luke.”

“Would your father really do that?”

Perry flicked the reins and the carriage began to move again. “I wouldn't put it past him. I'm not in very good favour as it is, and that would probably be the last straw.”

Luke couldn't imagine his own father turning on him to such an extent. Thaddeus would show extreme displeasure, yes. Would refuse to ever speak with him again, quite probably. But have him arrested? But then Luke realized that he really had no idea how his father would react if he were ever to find out. He was nauseated just thinking about it.

“So,” Perry continued, “now you know why I need to keep Lavinia happy. I wish I could find what she wants, but I can't.”

“What exactly did she ask you to do?”

“Have a look around Molly Wood's Bush.”

“For what?”

Perry shrugged. “That's the problem — she doesn't know. She seems to think there's something hidden there, but I've been all over that lot and there's nothing but trees and bushes. Well, and men, of course, but I don't think she's interested in that.”

Luke was puzzled. Lavinia had an imperious manner that had set him on his guard from the beginning, but otherwise she seemed like any other well brought up lady, perfectly at ease with teas and dances and recitals. Was she even aware of her husband's illegal activities? Most wives wouldn't be. They were kept in the dark about their husbands' financial dealings and business affairs, even in some cases the expense entailed in running their own households. But the more he thought about it, the more he was inclined to think that Perry was right, and that Lavinia Van Hansel was every bit as ruthless as her husband and would use whatever means she could to get what she wanted. She was obviously not above blackmail.

“Why is your father so eager to cultivate the Van Hansels?” he asked. “It can't be that important to get you married off, can it?”

“No, although that would be a bonus,” Perry replied. “It's because Phillip Van Hansel is becoming an important man. The old families don't run Toronto anymore, you know. Things have changed. Men like Van Hansel are building empires. He controls a lot in the city, mainly through his connections with the Orange Lodge. Father's smart enough to know that and he's using me to curry a little favour.”

“But Van Hansel is a crook.” The words came out of Luke's mouth before he even stopped to think about it.

Perry seemed unsurprised by his outburst. “Of course he is. I know that. Father knows it, too. So does everyone at the lodge. Is that why you went running out the garden door that night? Because Van Hansel is a crook?”

“It's a long story,” Luke said. And he had no intention of telling it to Perry. Or to anyone else for that matter. If Phillip Van Hansel was as powerful as Perry claimed, Luke and Thaddeus would be wise to stay well out of sight. Luke would have to find some way to deal with Lavinia's persistence. After the first rebuffs, anyone else would have given him up as a lost cause, but she had gone to the extraordinary measure of appealing to Dr. Christie. Perry was right. There was something she wanted from Luke. He was determined not to give it to her.