“Yes, Mother. Much brighter.”
“One can only hope,” Matthew heard her say, in nearly a whisper. Then she sighed, let go of Trevor’s hand, and just that quickly she was gone.
Ramsendell and Hulzen came to the bedside, but only to check her breathing and make sure her chamberpot was within easy reach. Ramsendell rubbed the back of his neck. “A long way to go, but at least now we know in which direction.”
Trevor was on his feet. “Will she ever recover? I mean…back to how she was?”
“Debatable. I really don’t know. We shall have to begin slowly, of course. First of all, to let her understand where she is and who we are. Then we’ll approach the loss of Mr. Swanscott, but only when we’re sure she can accept it. That may be a long and difficult task for all of us. But I think it’s a very good idea for Mr. Corbett to return and spend time with her. That’s something I’m sure she’ll look forward to and see as a…well…as a visit from you, since you put it so eloquently.”
Trevor nodded. He had turned his face away from the bed, and regarded the doorway with grim resignation. At last he said, “All right. I’m ready.” Before he left he kissed his sleeping mother on the forehead, and then he preceded Matthew from the room.
Outside, the wagon was waiting. Wearing a riding suit the color of cream with a bright red vest and a cream-hued tricorn accented by a red feather, Gardner Lillehorne was standing next to his horse at the hitching- post. Matthew’s horse Dante was also tied at the post. Up on the wagon, the driver and a constable named Uriah Blount were ready to receive the prisoner. Lillehorne had the manacles and chains in hand. They jangled with heavy finality as Lillehorne walked to meet Trevor Kirby.
“May I ask that Mr. Kirby not be manacled?” Matthew asked when Trevor thrust his wrists out.
The small black eyes flashed. “And why not, sir? Because your heart is bleeding?”
“No, because I think it’s unnecessary. Mr. Kirby has vowed to cause no trouble. We should take him at his word.”
“Oh, is that why he was manacled on the trip here, sir? Because we took him at his word?”
“Do me the favor,” Matthew said flatly.
Lillehorne grunted and started to close the ponderous cuffs around Trevor’s wrists, but then he scowled and stepped back with them still undone. “I have already done you the favor, as you put it, by allowing this highly unofficial visit to be made. The prisoner will get in the wagon. Mr. Blount, give him aid, please. And keep your pistol ready at all times.”
“Yes sir.”
“Thank you, Matthew,” Trevor said before he climbed up to be guarded all the way back to New York. “Thank you also for agreeing to come see her. Let me ask this: do you think she’ll be safe?”
“I think so. There would be no profit in harming her, and no lesson to be made out of her for the underlings. So yes, I do think she’ll be safe.”
“Let’s go, gentlemen.” Lillehorne mounted his horse. “Or shall we all shuffle to the nearest tavern and weep in our beers?”
On the ride, as they followed the Philadelphia Pike, Matthew urged Dante up next to Lillehorne’s horse. They were proceeding at a walk. “I do appreciate the favors,” he said. “Both of them.”
“Spare me.”
“I just wanted you to know that it meant a great deal to Trevor to see his-”
“What is this Trevor business? Are you his best friend? Don’t you recollect that he killed three men, mangled the legs of a third, and might have killed a fourth?”
“I recollect that he turned himself in to you and saved my life. Best friend, perhaps not, but friend yes.”
“You were knocked about up at that damned estate one too many times,” Lillehorne said sourly.
Matthew held his tongue. Gardner Lillehorne had returned to his usual form. Of course it was understandable, since Lillehorne was in one muddy mire of a mess. The gaol was full, the cold room had been turned into a makeshift gaol, and the judicial fabric of New York was straining under the pull of so many criminals they could hardly be housed, much less fed. The entire scene was a merry disaster, with boys throwing slop buckets and pissing at whoever came near the bars. Two prisoners who seemed determined to piss and holler their way out of the cells were Bromfield and Carver, who’d been caught on their way to pick up Dippen Nack. The two hunters had run smack into Lillehorne, Kirby, and the constables, and Kirby had recognized Bromfield as the man who’d been with Pollard. A chase had ensued, with Bromfield’s horse throwing him into a briar patch and Carver being stopped by a pistol ball past his ear.
Add to the festivities the complications-and mysteries-of the files and papers that had been found in Chapel’s office, and little wonder Lillehorne’s temper had become a tinderbox. The prosecutors of Charles Town, Philadelphia, and Boston as well as a dozen other smaller localities had to be notified due to the staggering number of forged deeds and bills of sale, plans for arson, extortion, kidnapping, document theft, and even the counterfeiting of money that had either been already hatched or in their initial stages, using the services of those boys-and young men-who had previously passed through the criminal university and been placed in those towns waiting for a signal to act. It was a law officer’s delirium, to have to deal with thirty or more acts of crime in the planning stages all up and down the Atlantic coast while holding on to twenty-five sharkers some in need of medical attention. And some, like Chapel and Pollard, bound up in beds at the King Street hospital. So Matthew could pardon Lillehorne’s foul disposition, as the situation truly was dire.
But, as Matthew considered, it was just his job to catch the criminals. It was Lillehorne’s job to hold on to them.
“Gardner,” Matthew said as their horses walked side-by-side, “I have an idea about that central constable’s station I was talking about. You remember, at the meeting with Lord Cornbury? If this constable’s station was built, it could be combined with a new gaol. A modern facility, with…say…twenty cells. With a kitchen also, so meals could be made on the premises. You know, there might be a small medical facility there as well, so wounded prisoners would not be taken away to-”
“Silence!” the man snapped. “What did you call me?”
