She stopped to get her handkerchief from her sleeve and wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“I went ahead with the boys. Janine came with us to the train station by omnibus and then I took the boys by cab to the steamer office. The plan was, she was supposed to come later in the day. It made me terrible nervous. I was so worried about that cottage, maybe it would turn out to be a hovel or maybe it didn’t exist at all, but in the end she was right. It was just the way it’s described here.”
She touched the newspaper cutting. “You should have seen the boys, they could hardly have been happier if you set them down in heaven itself. The harbor and the boats and the garden and the house with a nice big kitchen.” She pressed her mouth hard, as if she were telling herself to be quiet, she had spoken enough. But the question came out just the same: “Can I ask, did Campbell go to the police saying he’d been robbed?”
When Oscar said that no complaint had been filed, she nodded.
“Janine said he wouldn’t. That he couldn’t tell the police about the money because he didn’t come by it honest.”
Jack said, “Mrs. Stone, I’m confused. Campbell told us that he was missing just over twelve hundred dollars cash. Where was the money coming from to buy the house? From you?”
That almost got him a smile. “All we have is Henry’s pension, the bit I make mending and sewing, and this little house I was born in, termites and leaky roof and all.”
“Do you know how she paid for the Rhode Island house?” Oscar asked.
In fits and starts the story came together. Mrs. Campbell had indeed had something over a thousand dollars in cash, most of which she had passed to Mrs. Stone when she left with the boys for the cost of travel and provisions, and getting settled in the new house.
It was true that was the only cash, but it wasn’t the only money.
“That’s why she stayed behind when I left with the boys. Or at least, that’s what she said. Here, it’s easier to show you.”
Mrs. Stone took up a large sewing basket, set the lid aside, and began to unpack it. There was a tray of threads and a pincushion, shears, a roll of muslin, patches, a darning egg, knitting needles, a man’s shirt neatly folded, a chemise. When it seemed to be empty she turned it over and thumped the bottom with the heel of one hand. Two solid blows and a false bottom went clattering to the floor, followed by a black pocketbook.
With trembling hands she took out a thick roll of oversized bills. This she handed to Oscar, and he slid a binding string down and off so he could spread the roll flat on his lap.
“Bearer bonds,” he said. “Issued by the State of Massachusetts.”
The bills were elaborately engraved and printed in three colors. Anna had to look twice before she could convince herself that she was seeing correctly.
“Five hundred dollars,” she said. “For each?”
“Forty-six of them,” Mrs. Stone said. “Of the original fifty. That Thursday morning I found her near dead, she gave me the purse with the bonds before the ambulance came. But I’m not keeping it for myself,” she added, new color flooding her face. “The money is to raise the boys, for food and clothes and school fees and the like, and—”
“No one suspects you of plotting to steal the bonds,” Jack said.
Anna wondered if that was strictly true. She could see the Campbell house through the front windows, still dark. If Archer Campbell suspected that Mrs. Stone had the bearer bonds, she didn’t doubt he was looking for a way to get them back.
“Bearer bonds.” Oscar rubbed both hands over his face.
Mrs. Stone said, “All I know is, Janine said he hadn’t come by them honest.”
“It’s not important right now,” Jack said. “But it’s still unclear to me why she didn’t just leave with you and the boys that Wednesday morning.”
Anna said, “She had a doctor’s appointment, didn’t she?”
Mrs. Stone’s head dropped. “That was it. I didn’t figure it out until later, but she went to that doctor who charged so much to fix things.” She rocked a little in place. “She was so worried about another baby, sick, really, in her head and heart both. She went to that doctor right after she saw me off with the boys. She had a ticket for the noon steamer, that’s in the purse still. But it didn’t work out the way she planned.
“She told me when I found her Thursday morning, she knew as soon as she left the doctor’s office that something was wrong. She was in so much pain and bleeding so bad she couldn’t get on a steamer. She could hardly get back here.”
A fresh welling of tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I get so mad at her when I think about it. What’s another baby when there’s hands enough to do the work and money to put food on the table? But she couldn’t bear the idea, and so she went and had the operation and she never lived to see the place she bought, or her boys so happy.”
“When did you decide to go back to the city to look for her?” Jack asked.
“Wednesday evening. She wasn’t on the steamer when she was supposed to be, or the one after that. The plan we made was to meet back here if something went wrong, and it did go wrong. If you can imagine it, Janine had to spend another night with that man, knowing she was sick unto death, thinking she’d be dead within a day and what was going to happen to the boys?
“So I did come back, and thank God. Just before the ambulance came she gave me the purse with the bearer bonds. She said, ‘Mabel, think how much worse it would be if Archer had realized what I took from him. I wouldn’t have anything to give you for the boys. Now you can raise them up right and they’ll be safe.’
“Then the doctor came in and examined her in the bedroom. Not ten minutes later they put her in the ambulance and I never saw her again. It’s a sin and a shame the way she died, but she went easier, knowing I would go back to the boys. That’s all I want, to go back to the boys, me and Henry, but we can’t get away. And I don’t know how much longer Mrs. Barnes can look after them.”
Jack got up and paced the length of the parlor. “You think Campbell suspects?”
“I know he suspects,” she said, almost sharply. “Didn’t he say as much, right to my face? He said, ‘Mabel Stone, remember one thing. I’ll have what’s mine.’ And now he sits there watching us, day and night. Like a spider in a web he watches us. I know he didn’t answer when you pounded on the door, but he’s there. You can see his cigar, it’s like an evil red eye in the dark. I think he’s waiting for us both to be out of the house so he can come in and search.”
She rocked forward and crossed her arms across her chest, weeping silently but for short indrawn breaths. Anna leaned close and put a hand on the bowed back. The kind of touch that might provide a grieving mother some small comfort. Because Mrs. Stone had lost a daughter in Janine Campbell.
They talked for a half hour more, asking questions that Mrs. Stone tried to answer. She didn’t know where or how Archer Campbell had gotten some twenty-five thousand dollars in bearer bonds; she didn’t know where Janine Campbell had gone for the abortion or who had performed it. All she could say for sure was that she had paid the doctor three hundred dollars.
“She thought it was the only way to get it done quick and safe. And truth be told, I think she got some satisfaction out of the idea that it was Archer’s money that paid the doctor. Three hundred dollars, and for that he butchered our girl and now those boys have got nobody. Nobody who knows them and loves them. If we go to them, Campbell will follow. For the bonds, if not the boys.”
Jack said, “Mrs. Stone, does anybody else know about this, the whole story?”
She shook her head. “The only person who knows anything at all is a neighbor from down the street. Mrs. Oglethorp. She stayed with my Henry while I was gone. She thinks I went to my sister, too.”
Anna asked, “How can you be sure Henry didn’t tell Mrs. Oglethorp anything, given his state of mind?”
“I can be sure because Mary doesn’t speak German, and Henry lost every word he ever knew of English on the battlefield at Bull Run.”
Oscar stood up, his expression thoughtful as he walked toward the window where Mr. Stone sat rocking. He crouched down and smiled at both man and dog, held out a hand to be sniffed, and scratched behind Montgomery’s ear.
“Henry,” he said.
Mr. Stone looked at him expectantly, a smile on his face that could almost be called hopeful.
“A fine dog you’ve got here. His name is bigger than he is, though. Why’d you name him Montgomery?”
An uncertain look was all the response he got.
“Henry, where are the little boys from across the street?”
The smile faded. He turned in his seat to look at his wife, his brows raised.
“Schon recht,” she said to him. “Macht nichts.” To Jack she said, “The boys and Henry, what’s to become of them when you take me away?”
Anna had never seen a human being so terribly frightened. Not even the sickest patient with nothing but death to look forward to, not parents with a desperately ill child. Mabel Stone wasn’t frightened for herself but for the people who depended on her. Anna was about to tell Jack and Oscar that some other solution had to be found when Jack spoke up.
“We’re not here to arrest you,” Jack said. “You went with Mrs. Campbell and her sons because you were asked to, and you took the money she gave you to look after the boys. Between us I think we can find a way to get you and Henry back to those boys. Safely.”
“With the bonds,” Oscar added. “Campbell will have stolen them somewhere, that’s something we’ll look into down the road, but you don’t have to worry about it. He’ll never be punished but it’ll eat him alive, the idea that she got the better of him.”
Mrs. Stone looked between them, studying their faces until she seemed satisfied.
“You’d think I’d run out of tears.” She folded her damp handkerchief and pressed it to her eyes. “If you mean it, then God bless you.”
“We mean it,” Jack said.
Anna said, “Can I ask one more question?”
“Anything,” Mrs. Stone said.
“Do you happen to know if Mrs. Campbell ever traded at Smithson’s, the druggist across from the Jefferson Market?”
At Mrs. Stone’s blank expression Anna said, “Never mind, it was just an idea.”
“But I do know Smithson’s,” Mrs. Stone said. “It’s where my mother traded and where I go. When Janine first moved down here from Maine I took her there too, to introduce her. It can’t be Mr. Smithson who hurt her. He’s as gentle as a lamb and just about as strong. And retired, too, since last year.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest that Mr. Smithson had anything to do with Mrs. Campbell. It’s something else, that may be related.”
“Is he in trouble?”
“Nobody is in trouble,” Jack said. “Except the person who operated on Mrs. Campbell, and we don’t have any idea yet who that is. But if you think of anything she might have said, no matter how small—”
“I will come see you. Or write to you, if we are already away. When do you think we could leave here? I do need to get back to the boys. And Henry misses them so.”
Oscar said, “Could you leave now?”
Mrs. Stone’s expression stilled. “We don’t have much luggage, and it’s been packed for weeks. Do you mean it?”
“I do. I can put you two and Montgomery somewhere safe tonight and tomorrow I’ll see to it you get onto the first steamer headed in the direction of Sakonnet Harbor. I’ll need a half hour or so, so sit tight. Jack, you’ll want to stay.”
Anna could almost hear the silent discussion that went back and forth between them. No doubt Campbell had seen them entering the Stones’ house, and by now he would have suspicions. Anna was glad Jack was staying behind.
Oscar grinned. “I won’t be long,” he said. “You’ll be free of Campbell before you know it.”
• • •
A FEW MINUTES later when Mrs. Stone had gone to check over their luggage, Anna said, “Do I want to know what he’s up to?”
Jack shrugged. “You never know with Oscar. He can be inventive, on both sides of the law. But he’ll get them to Rhode Island and Campbell will be none the wiser, you can put money on that much.”
“We set out to find an answer to one question and instead we found the answer to a different one altogether.”
Mrs. Stone came back into the parlor, her agitation and excitement plain to read in the way she sat and then jumped up again.
Anna said, “Will your husband have trouble adjusting, do you think? You’ve been in the city for a long time.”
The older lady sat down again. “He loves those boys so, I don’t think he’ll care where he is.”
She looked at her husband, who had fallen asleep in his rocking chair. “All these years I have missed the Henry I married, but just now it’s better this way. He hardly understands what’s happening, but you should have seen him as a young man. He had a gift for numbers, he could add and multiply and divide in his head, big numbers, too. And he was so strong, it was a joy just to watch him working. When he first came from Germany he came to see my father—he was from Munich too—to ask about work. He came into the shop, and I was at the counter helping a customer. He smiled at me, and that was that.
“As a girl I hated that we spoke German at home, but Henry made me glad of it, that I could talk to him. I was the one who taught him English, and he made good progress. With other people it was harder sometimes.” She smiled with such sweetness that she looked much as she must have the day Heinrich Steinmauer came into her father’s shop so many years ago.
“Once he wanted to buy a fish for supper—” She stopped. “It’s an old story, you won’t want to hear it.”
Jack said, “I’m always up for a good fish story.”
“Yes,” Anna said. “If you don’t tell us I’ll be wondering for days.”
Mrs. Stone started again. “We were at the Fulton Street market because Henry wanted fish for his supper. There was a big trout he liked the look of, but the fishmonger wanted a dollar for it, and Henry thought it was too much. You see, the fishmonger was rude because of us being German; that used to be even worse than it is these days. So they got to arguing and they both dug in, like bulls. ‘A dollar,’ says the fishmonger. ‘One American dollar.’ Now back then when Henry lost his temper his English got lost too. So he’s yelling in his big deep voice, ‘That is a shame! A shame!’” She pushed out her chest and thumped it manfully.
“And everybody was looking at us and the fishmonger, but Henry was too mad to notice. He bellows, ‘Behold your fish! I can become a fish myself for two bits, just around the corner!’”
Anna laughed, a great bark of laughter that would have embarrassed her in other company. Jack’s expression was vaguely confused, a man who dearly wanted in on the joke and would have been glad of the reason to laugh. For some reason Anna couldn’t explain, that made her laugh all the harder.
• • •
THAT EVENING AS they got ready for bed, Jack expected Anna would talk, finally, about her brother. Some small thing that would be a start, the first crack in the dam that held back all the sorrow that ate away at her still, so many years later.
It was the last night they would sleep under her aunt’s roof. Tomorrow night they would go to bed in their own place. He liked the idea of a fresh start, getting the worst and saddest memories out in the light of day.
But she went about getting ready for bed, talking about the surgery she would perform in the morning, the hiring of a housekeeper and cook, where she would find the time for Italian lessons, wanting to know if Jack would be in court this week, if he was scheduled for night duty. She didn’t mention Mrs. Stone or Archer Campbell, and Jack had the idea that she
needed to talk to her aunt before they took up the subject.
He loved watching her when she didn’t realize she was being studied. There was economy in every movement and she managed still to be graceful, in the way she bent from the waist to sweep her long hair to one side, her fingers moving rapidly as she began to plait, working each twist with precision until a long rope fell down her back, and orderly as a rosary but for the stray hair that escaped to curl on her neck, another at her brow.
“Jack?”
He started, coming back to himself with a jerk.
“Sorry,” he said. “My mind wandered.”
One side of her mouth quirked so that a single dimple popped to the surface. She knelt on the edge of the bed and bowed down to kiss his cheek, his temple, the corner of his mouth.
“Let me guess where it wandered to,” she said, and hiccupped with laughter when he grabbed her wrists and flipped her onto her back.
“Wait,” she said. “Wait, there’s something I need to ask.”
He kissed her soundly until he felt her begin to forget what she had been wanting to say, and then he drew away and settled beside her.
She hated to surrender control, or had always hated it. He liked to think that she was coming to see that occasional surrender had its rewards. He watched her make a concerted effort to return her breathing to something more normal.
“Forgot already?”
She elbowed him, hard. Then she sat up again, cross-legged, and faced him.
“Bambina. She is so bad tempered at times, really terrible.”
“So I hear.”
“From the girls?”
He nodded. “They are very concerned. They like Baldy-Ned—”
“Oh, no.” Anna put a hand over her mouth to smother a laugh.
“It’s your fault,” Jack said. “Baldy wasn’t a good enough name, so you saddled him with another one. The results are already out of your control. So I was saying, they’re afraid that Bambina scared Baldy-Ned away, and they like him.”