Thoreau at Devil's Perch (20 page)

“You did not attend Captain Peck's funeral yesterday,” he commented to me.

“No, I had business to see to here in Boston. And I was not his comrade as you were.”

“We were comrades in arms only. Never friends. I served briefly under Captain Peck at Fort Cass, but I was transferred out west before the Cherokee removal. Peck came west later, and we got on well enough at Fort Laramie. We hunted buffalo together when the herds swung near the fort. Peck was a fine horseman but only a passing shot. Rumor was that he had profited mightily during his posting in Georgia, something to do with a gold mine but nothing specific. He acted at Laramie like he was now in the Army more for amusement than his having to make a career. Always had the best horse and latest repeating rifle and pistols and paid extra for comfortable quarters. He got too uppity to follow orders he didn't like and resigned one day, Badger with him, as always.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Four years or thereabouts. His going was nothing to me till I decided to muster out myself and head back east. Upon arriving in Boston I met up with some soldiers at Fort Independence. They told me Peck had a fine place out in Plumford and looked to be making money hand over fist. So I rented me a horse and rode out there to see if my old captain might be in need of my services.”

“What sort of services?” I asked.

“I was willing to leave that up to Peck. When a man is making money hand over fist, he can surely afford to hire someone like me to help him take care of it.”

“Do you know how Peck was making all this money?”

“You ask a lot of questions, doctor.” Finch gave me a wolfish smile. “Do you expect to buy the answers with clam shells?”

“I'll buy you another brandy.”

“I accept your kind offer.” After he was served he said, “As to how Peck made his money, all I know is that it had something to do with a Frenchy jeweler in Boston, same one who made those fine engravings we goggled in Peck's study. Where did he find such limber ladies to model for him, I wonder.”

“They were far too anatomically supple,” I said,“to be anything but figments of the artist's imagination.”

“Do you speak from medical or personal knowledge, Doctor?”

“We are getting off the subject of Peck.”

“Well, if anyone would know where to find such women, it would be him. Peck was always seeking out novel enticements. I expect that's why the poor devil ended up with the pox.”

“He told you of his ailment?”

“He didn't have to. I saw right off he had it bad and that it would do him no good to caterwaul about it. But caterwaul he did.You'd think he was the first man ever to perish from the pox.”

“So you knew he was dying of it.”

“I guessed as much. He looked god-awful, and he was suffering mightily.” Finch shrugged. “Could be his killer did him a favor by cutting short his torment.”

“No,” I said.“I believe Peck's killer wanted to torment him as much as possible. He scalped him
alive
and then dangled the scalp in front of his face!”

“A pretty sight that must have been.” Finch laughed, and when I did not join him he said, “Come now, Dr. Walker. Surely a macabre sense of humor helps a man in your profession as well as in mine. Both soldiers and doctors see too much of death to be in awe of it.”

“It is life I am in awe of,” I said. “And no one has the right to play God by cutting short the life of another, even to end his suffering.”

“You think not?” Finch took a long sip from his tumbler. “Well, I will admit here and now that I have done so.”

“Are you telling me you killed Peck?”

He laughed again, turned his tumbler upside down, and arched an eyebrow. I got him another drink, and he continued. “No, I am not confessing to Peck's murder, Doctor. The man I killed was a soldier out of Fort Laramie name of Jamie James. The young fool was in my patrol party and managed to get himself captured by crazy redskins during the night, most likely when he roamed off to relieve himself. We were awakened by his horrible screams in the distance, and my men wanted to rush off half-cocked to try and save him. Fearing an ambush, I ordered them to stay put and went out alone with my buffalo gun. It was real easy for me to find the redskins, and I am sure that was their intention. They had made camp not far from us, but it was across a deep ravine more than two hundred yards wide. Knowing we couldn't get at 'em there, the devils felt safe to light a big bonfire and put on a show to taunt us. With much whooping and dancing, they were flaying poor Jamie alive. That's right, Doctor. They were stripping flesh off his arms and legs like you'd peel the hide off a deer. I never doubted for a moment what I had to do. Laid down, steadied the long barrel of my gun on a stump, and shot a bullet across the ravine. It took off half Jamie's head and gave him instant peace. Those damn savages scattered afore I could get off another shot, but leastways I'd put an end to their fun.”

“That's a horrible tale, Lieutenant.”

“And a true one, I swear! Indians are the greatest of tormentors. Torture is an art with them, although Captain Peck was not so artfully dispatched.”

“What could possibly be gained by such cruelty as that?”

“Nothing by me,” Finch said. “Peck was worth far more to me alive than dead. He told me he was involved in a very lucrative enterprise and would cut me in on it if his business partner agreed. I was to replace Badger, who had mucked up somehow.”

“Replace Badger doing what?”

Finch shook his head. “Never got the chance to find out, which vexes me still. After Peck was murdered, I hoped to talk to the little banker about it, but he lit out before I could.”

“I just saw Vail, and he claimed he knew nothing of Peck's business affairs.

“Well, he is a lying little buffalo chip. He and Peck were thick as thieves.”

“You think they were involved in something unlawful?”

“Peck told me as much.”

“And you were still interested in working for him?”

“Oh, I had some misgiving about it. I came east aiming to find honest work. But beggars cannot be choosers, and I learned in the Army that you must do what is most expedient for your survival.” He stared at me with cold hawk eyes but smiled as friendly as you please. “If you have any more questions I could do with more refreshment.”

Once again I had his tumbler refilled to keep his tongue well-lubricated.

“What did you think of the banker's wife?” I asked him.

He looked most pleased to tell me. “I thought her a very tasty piece of goods indeed. What a little darling she looked in all her silken ruffles and fine gold jewelry. I reckon it took both men to keep her in such grand style.”

“Both men?”

“Well, sure. Peck was as familiar with her charms as her husband. I could see that from twenty feet away, when I spied them in that little summerhouse of Peck's. What did he call it?”

“A belvedere. Perhaps he was simply showing Mrs. Vail the view it commanded.”

“No, it was she who was showing him a view—that of her two snowy hillocks. She had unbuttoned her bodice for his delectation, yet Peck kept his hands to himself. He said they must refrain from such intimacy for he had something important to tell her. Then he bowed his head and fell silent. She urged him to go on, but all he did was hum and haw. When she buttoned up her bodice, I lost interest and went on.”

“Do you think Peck was trying to tell Mrs. Vail that he had syphilis?”

“I shouldn't wonder that was his intention. Doubt he ever got his nerve up though. Ain't an easy thing to tell a lady.”

“She should know for her own good.”

“Well, that's not my concern.” Finch leaned back in his chair and stretched out his long legs beneath the table. He looked drowsy and no wonder. His belly was full of food and drink. “That belvedere was quite the stage, come to think of it, for I witnessed yet another scene that took place there.”

“You are not referring to Peck's murder, are you?”

“Of course not. I would not have remained a mere onlooker if I had seen that nasty act unfold. What I saw and heard occurred the night before. If you would like, I will recount the scene to you, but my throat is somewhat dry.”

I was beginning to wonder if he was just fabricating stories to keep me buying drinks for him, but the brandy at the Oyster House was cheap enough, and I had time enough to listen. So I ordered him yet another, and he began spouting off again.

“When I showed up at Peck's house, he did not seem too pleased to see me. And I was quite shocked at the sorry sight of him. But once we got drinking and talking of old skirmishes, we warmed up to each other again. Peck could no longer consume as much whiskey as he once did, though, and he cut short our reminiscences. He told me he was expecting another visitor. The more the merrier, said I. But he claimed he had a private matter to discuss with the other man and excused himself. Left alone in his parlor, I had nothing better to do than continue drinking, and soon enough the entire contents of the whiskey bottle had gone down my hatch. So I left the room to find either Peck or more drink in the house. Finding neither, I stumbled outside. It was a fine night, and I decided to take a little stroll. Ended up at that damn belvedere. I heard Peck's voice coming forth from it, along with another man's. Peck's voice was pleading. The other's was cold and angry.”

“What did the other man look like?”

“I could not make him out in the shadows.”

“Well, what were they saying to each other?”

“That I cannot recall. I believe I was more than a little drunk, you see.”

“I see you are more than a little drunk now, Lieutenant. Perhaps you will not recall this conversation either.”

He straightened up immediately and looked offended. “I hold my liquor far better than most men and can remember anything I choose to. But I am not in the habit of eavesdropping on private conversations, Doctor. So I paid little mind to the one taking place in the belvedere.”

“Yet it might have been between Peck and his future killer. What was the captain pleading for? And why was the other man so angry?”

Finch rubbed his temples. “It is all at the edge of my mind, but I cannot get at it. I confess I was moon-eyed as a loon.”

I wanted to reach across and shake the memory out of his brain. Then an idea blossomed in my head. “Will you allow me to hypnotize you, Lieutenant Finch?”

He narrowed his eyes. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what the blazes I would be allowing you to do exactly.”

I realized he did not know what hypnotism was, and I explained the process to him as simply as possible.

He still looked dubious. “You mean to say that by putting me to sleep you can get me to recall things I have no recollection of awake?”

“More or less. I may at least be able to bring forth a memory fragment that could identify the man Peck was talking to so fervently. This mysterious visitor might have asked Peck to meet him again at the belvedere the next evening in order to kill him there.”

Finch thought about it a moment. “If Peck's killer is hiding in my head, I suppose I owe it to my old captain to try and flush him out. But I do not care to let my guard down in a public place such as this.”

“I can hypnotize you in the privacy of my rooms. The family I board with is away this month, along with the help.”

“So the house would be empty except for us?”

I assured him it would be, and he offered to go there directly. But as we strode out of the restaurant he slipped on some clamshells strewn upon the sawdusted planks and, although his quick reflexes saved him from falling flat on his face, I realized he was far too inebriated to hypnotize. It might even do him harm. I told him as much and suggested we try the experiment the next day.

“I plan to leave Boston tomorrow,” he told me. “But I will sleep off the brandy this afternoon and be sobered up by nightfall.”

Hence it was agreed he would come to my rooms at eight this evening. Before we parted on the street I asked if he by any chance knew where the Vails lived.

Finch gave me a wink. “So you mean to visit the missus. Need I remind you that she most likely had relations with Captain Pox?”

“Need I remind you that I am a doctor?” I retorted. “Mrs. Vail should be informed that she might be infected, and I suppose I am the one left to do it.”

He nodded, swayed a bit, and said, “I recall her mentioning to Peck that she and her husband had recently removed to a most prestigious boardinghouse.”

“There are more than a few of those in Boston,” I said.

“Near Parson's Corner or some such place,” Finch added, then went on his way, spine ramrod straight, and only the slightest drunken swagger in his step.

Although I am familiar with just about every neighborhood in our dear City on a Hill, I had never heard of Parson's Corner and knew not where to go forth. I could not very well return to the bank and ask Mr. Vail where his wife and he resided, but I recalled that he had told me they lived directly across from a bookseller. There are more than a few of those in Boston too. One that immediately came to mind was the Old Corner Bookstore, situated where School and Washington Streets meet, and known, because intellectuals and muses congregate there, as
Parnassus
Corner! Off I went in the hope of finding Mrs. Vail thereabouts.

As always, Washington Street was teeming with coupes and coaches, phaetons and buggies, wagons, omnibuses, and shays. The brick sidewalks were clogged with all manner of pedestrians, from genteel shoppers carrying bandboxes and parasols, to ragamuffin newsboys hawking penny papers and Irish crones selling apples. When I paused to watch the antics of an organ monkey, the bright pink bonnet of another bystander caught my eye. Unfortunately, it also caught the eye of the monkey, and he made a leap to snatch it off her head. The organ grinder jerked the monkey back by its chain before it could touch her person, but still she screamed and ran off. I took chase and managed to reach her side just as she was about to blindly cross the street in front of a fast-moving dray loaded with timber.