“Do I have to give back the watch?” Matthew managed to ask.
“Yes, and polish it, too.”
He stood up, watch in one hand and dangerous envelope in the other. “I’ll go.”
Mrs. Herrald remained seated. “Seven o’clock,” she said firmly.
Matthew wondered what would happen if his body wasn’t found until eight. But he pulled himself tall, got his legs moving, and left the parlor.
“Wait! Corbett! Wait, I said!” shouted Mr. Vincent as he came out from behind his desk, but Matthew carried a watch now and time waited for no man.
Ten
Matthew set off on a middle-sized, brown-and-white paint mare named Suvie that he’d secured on previous business trips from Mr. Winekoop’s stable. She was a plodder, but she was easily managed and had never been known-at least according to the amiable, pipe-smoking Winekoop-to throw a rider. So, with Suvie under him, his hands in the reins, boots in the stirrups, and wax-sealed envelope tucked in an inner coat pocket and fastened down with a button, he rode along the Broad Way to the north, mindful of pedestrians, wagons, wandering mendicants, merchants hawking their wares from little pull-carts, dogs chasing cats chasing chickens, slop and the essence of chamberpot thrown into the street, and other sundry obstacles to be avoided.
He wished he’d thought to bring a hat, because here came another brief shower that wet him and then passed on in favor of the sun. He decided to keep going past the pottery shop, though, for he wanted to keep to a strict time-schedule.
It had been almost two-thirty when he’d left the stable. There’d been an important task he’d needed to accomplish at City Hall, and also to ask Magistrate Powers for permission to make this journey though the afternoon was free and he’d known the magistrate would give his blessing. The magistrate, however, had not been in the office and so Matthew had left a note, completed his task, and then hurried back down the stairs where he’d run into High Constable Lillehorne and Chief Prosecutor Bynes on their way up.
“Ho there, Matthew!” said Bynes, a large-bellied and jovial man with a florid face and trimmed gray beard. “Where to in such a hurry?”
“Hello, sir. I’m sorry, I do have an appointment.”
“A moment, then.” Bynes reached out and put a ham-sized grip on Matthew’s shoulder. Lillehorne tried to squeeze past them but was unable to advance. “Two things. I meant to speak to you earlier about your suggestions at the meeting. They were very interesting and could be useful, and I’m sure the high constable intends to properly study them. Isn’t that right, Gardner?”
“Yes sir,” Lillehorne said, his voice suddenly bright. “I intend to study them at great length.”
“Grand!” That was the chief prosecutor’s highest and all-purpose praise. Then his face darkened and a voice that could call down thunder and cataclysm in the courtroom became almost fatherly. “And last night. You happened upon that tragic scene. Gardner painted the whole picture for me, and I’ve looked in upon the body. Those marks around the eyes…very disturbing, are they not?”
“Yes sir, they are.”
“I understand that our rather eccentric printmaster mentioned that term again when he was unlawfully present in the cold room. Yes?”
“Term, sir?” Matthew knew exactly what he meant, but he wouldn’t speak it. Besides, he wasn’t sure it had been “unlawful” for Grigsby to be present. Unless they were rewriting the town code at night when everyone slept.
“You do know.” Bynes applied just a little more pressure to Matthew’s shoulder. “We-all of us-are in this together, Matthew. We are all professionals. Craftsmen, in our own way. Make no mistake, we shall bring this murderer to justice. Unfortunately, no good is done when Marmaduke Grigsby starts declaring…you know…that term for all to see in his sheet. It causes an unease, which breeds fear, which breeds panic, which breeds citizens uncertain of the protective power of their legal officials. Not good. Yes?”
“Yes. I mean…no. I suppose.”
“Now I think it’s fine for Grigsby to run his little paper. Talk about the ships coming in, the cargoes, the energy of New York, the social scene and…yes, of course, even the minor squabblings in the streets which any town of merit must endure.” Bynes paused, his cool blue eyes ready to strike lightning to go along with a storm-dealing throat. “But Grigsby cannot be-and will not be-allowed to make this murderer into more than simply a lunatic who most probably has now fled town.”
“Pardon, sir,” Matthew said, “but I think that’s what was advanced after Dr. Godwin’s murder. Obviously it wasn’t true.”
“We don’t know that it isn’t true now. I’m not saying Grigsby shouldn’t run a small bit about the incident. I’d have to be a fool not to know that the whole town’s talking about it, but we must control public opinion, Matthew. For the good of the people. If Grigsby makes a big splash about it, how will that help anything? Yes?”
Matthew had no idea whether he ought to agree or disagree. But he said, “I do know of one thing that would greatly aid the good of the people, sir. To actively investigate the murder and find this person before he-”
“Shhhhh.” A thick finger went to Bynes’ lips. “We are investigating, you can be sure of that, and we shall find this lunatic if he is insane enough to remain in New York.”
Something about that music sounded off-key, but Matthew let it go. He turned his attention to the high constable. “A question for you, sir. Have you been able to question Reverend Wade and Dr. Vanderbrocken?”
“I have, if you really need to know.”
“May I ask what was their explanation of such a quick disappearance?”
Lillehorne cast a glance at Bynes that said Oh the fools I have to suffer. Then, to Matthew with a hint of disdain, “The good reverend was on his way to attend to church business. The good doctor was on his way to see a sick patient. They obviously were on the south side of the street and heard Phillip Covey’s shout, just as you heard it from the north side. Each apologized for not remaining there to wait for a constable, but they had their separate destinations.”
“Their separate destinations,” Matthew repeated.
“That’s what I said. Are you in need of an ear-horn?”
“Pardon, but did you ask exactly what church business and who was the patient?”
“No, because I’m respectful to those two gentlemen and their explanations have satisfied me. Any further probing would be disrespectful and possibly sinful in the case of Reverend Wade. Really, Corbett!” He tried again to get past Bynes. “Shall we go, sir?”
Bynes released Matthew’s shoulder. He flicked an imaginary something off Matthew’s left lapel. “Speak to your friend, won’t you? Both as a friend to him and a friend to me? Yes?” He smiled broadly. “Grand!”
As Matthew guided Suvie up the Broad Way hill past the pottery shop toward the lush green forest beyond, he was thinking about the phrase separate destinations. That was odd, because he distinctly remembered Reverend Wade saying to Dr. Vanderbrocken We have to leave him.
Was he mistaken, or didn’t that sentence imply the reverend and doctor were travelling together toward a common destination?
The doctor’s bag had been on the ground. It appeared he’d been wearing a nightshirt under his cloak, which also had an implication of emergency. If the two men had been travelling together, why had they not just said so to Lillehorne?
Of course, there were many slips between Lillehorne’s cup and his lips, so it was certainly possible he’d misunderstood they weren’t together or his questions had come out bungled. But still, it was very odd.
How serious was it, for a man of God to tell a lie?
Matthew had to shake these questions out of his brain. What did it matter, anyway? He didn’t believe for an instant that either the reverend or doctor had had anything to do with the murders. As Lillehorne had said, they were coincidentally on the south side of the street when they heard Covey shouting.
We have to leave him.
Something didn’t fit, Matthew thought. He hated when that happened, because it meant he was going to have to go speak to Reverend Wade and Dr. Vanderbrocken himself, just for the sake of clarity, when he returned to
