An Acquaintance with Darkness (26 page)

"Don't lose faith," Uncle Valentine told Annie.
"A last-minute act of executive clemency is always possible. We are a civilized nation. We don't hang women. If they sentence her, I'll go myself with you to the president, on her behalf."

Annie left, plied with food and comfort. But she still looked wild eyed. "He's a good man," she said of Uncle Valentine. "How could you ever have wanted to run away from him?" So. She did remember.

School let out. I made myself useful around the house, minded my business, and kept my eyes and ears open. You can learn an awful lot that way. I helped Maude, greeted Uncle Valentine's patients, did some baking, and sorted out Uncle Valentine's mail daily. Bills came from Aiken and Clampitt, Mrs. Mary's lawyers. There was correspondence from the Almshouse. Did Uncle Valentine go there and visit the poor? Another bill from the Board of Health. It fell out of the envelope.

It was not a bill but a permit to bury material from the dissecting room in Washington Asylum Cemetery. Quickly I put it back in the envelope and sealed it as best I could. Why had I never paid mind to this stuff before?

I even weeded Marietta's garden, for she hadn't been around in a week. Uncle Valentine said he hoped she wasn't sick. She wouldn't tell him if she were. She was afraid of his medicines. Merry still popped his head in the dining room door every morning to tell about shipments. There hadn't been any in a while.

I started reading a book called
The History of Anatomy
. It told how Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci studied dead bodies hundreds of years ago to learn anatomy for their artwork. And how they had trouble getting the bodies.

It was better than the Brothers Grimm. I kept thinking of Michelangelo getting bodies sneaked to him in a garret someplace. Not so he could cure the Wasting Disease. But so he'd know how to paint pictures on the ceiling of a church in Rome.

On June 30 all the conspirators in the Lincoln assassination were found guilty. Herold, Payne, Atzerodt, and Mary Surratt were sentenced to be hanged. Spangler was given six years. The others got life sentences, including Uncle Valentine's friend Dr. Mudd.

Annie's mother to be hanged! I couldn't believe it! Mama's girlhood friend from that fancy school that gave them notions. I'd wager Mrs. Mary had no notions now.

Uncle Valentine was having an uneven time of it with this news of Dr. Mudd. "They're putting all doctors on notice," he said. And I know he was talking about more than a doctor's decision to set the leg of a man in pain who came to him in the middle of the night.

He brooded. But he kept his promise to Annie. He arranged to go and see the president with her. And he was so busy arranging things that he never even noticed it when my chance came along to make things up to him.

On Saturday, July i, we were at breakfast. Uncle Valentine was awaiting Annie's arrival. They were to go and see President Johnson today.

Merry popped his head in the door. "Shipment tonight, boss."

"Where?"

"The Almshouse."

My ears perked up.

"Is it a good one?" Uncle Valentine asked.

"Robert's been in touch with our man inside. He says it's just what you need."

"Is the Board of Guardians cooperating?"

"No. We gotta pick it up ourselves. Robert's ready, but we haven't heard from Marietta. He's too busy to call at her house. He wants you to write a note."

"All right. This is a devil of a time for it, I'm so busy. But then maybe it's a good time. Most of Washington is taken with the trial and sentencing. Go along, Merry. Help Robert. I'll get a note to Marietta."

He asked me to fetch paper, pen, and ink from his office. I did so. Then he wrote the note and asked me to deliver it. Marietta lived in a small roominghouse on L Street. He seemed distracted. "She must keep this appointment tonight at the Almshouse. It's all here in this note. She is to meet Robert. We're depending on her," he said.

"Isn't there anything I can do to help, Uncle Valentine?"

"Yes. Come directly home after delivering the note, and stay in the house. From the meeting with the president, I'm going to see Dr. Mudd before they take him away. Washington is in an uproar over the prospect of hanging a woman. I don't want you out on the streets. Go along now."

I went, glad to be out of the house. I wouldn't be here when Annie arrived. It was cowardly, I knew, but she didn't want me. She wanted only Uncle Valentine. There was nothing I could do for her now, anyway.

I found Marietta in bed, upstairs in her small neat room. She was sick. And her landlady was concerned. "She's been coughing all week," she said.

She was not only coughing but feverish. "I'm all right," she told me. "I've got my cough syrup with Balm of Gilead."

"Why didn't you tell Uncle Valentine?" I asked innocently.

"He's got enough worries now. I read where Dr. Mudd and Mrs. Surratt were convicted. I know he's in a state."

I sat down on a chair. Maybe her "knowing" was a special power. But I'd found out something. Every time you knew something about another that they didn't know you knew, you had power. I gave her the note. She read it and had a spell of coughing, took a drink of water, and looked at me. "I don't think I can go. The medicine makes me sleepy. And nights, my head hurts. I must apply feverfew to my temples. You must tell him to make other arrangements."

"Is it a fresh body at the Almshouse?"

She looked at me in surprise.

"I know all about everything," I told her. "Uncle Valentine told me. And he trusts me."

"When?"

"He decided I can be trusted," I said simply. I must appear strong to her, like she did to me. "What do they want you to do?"

"The usual." She shrugged. "The Board of Guardians at the Almshouse has been charging too much for bodies. They're not supposed to sell them in the first place. But they do and they've been constantly raising their prices. Which is why Robert and your uncle started calling them the Board of Buzzards. Uncle Valentine has a man inside there. He is called the Ferryman and attends to the burials at Potter's Field behind the Almshouse. He informed your uncle of the death of a young man who lived there. I am supposed to claim him tonight, as a long-lost female relative."

"Like you did in Memphis," I said.

"Yes. When I appear for the burial, the Ferryman has to release the body to me. That way your uncle outwits the Board of Buzzards and the Ferryman is protected. No one can help it if a relative appears at the last moment."

"Don't they recognize you by now?"

"I have many different disguises. Sometimes I'm a sister, sometimes a wife. I can even look like an old lady."

"What would you be tonight if you could go?"

"Likely a sister," she said, "who just found out about the death of a long-lost wastrel brother."

I felt the blood pounding in my temples. "I could go in your place," I said.

"You?" She had an immediate fit of coughing. I poured her fresh water from the pitcher. "You?" she said again when she recovered herself.

"Yes. Uncle Valentine said I can do it if you're sick. He said I should let him know and he'll come around with some medicine." I looked at her innocently. "Of course, I don't have to tell him you're sick. I could just go in your place. What with all the worries he's got, going to see the president."

She met my eyes. I don't know if she believed me about Uncle Valentine saying I could go. But she saw me as someone strong, someone in charge. And someone who could tell Uncle Valentine she was sick. I was someone to be reckoned with. That was all I wanted from her. All I wanted from anybody, when it got right down to it.

"All right," she agreed. "Over there in that closet. I have several outfits. Let's see which one is best for you."

We went through the clothes. They were all black, of course, and smelled worse than Uncle Valentine's Purple Mass medicine. I tried on a few things and settled for a black silk dress with lace ruffles at the neck and long sleeves. There was a darling velvet hat with netting that came down over the face. Even a little black satin reticule with a scented handkerchief in it. And black kid boots. They were too large. We had to stuff old copies of the
Intelligencer
in them. Marietta coughed a lot.

"Why don't you take some of Uncle Valentine's Purple Mass medicine?" I asked her.

"Foul stuff," she said. "I prefer my Balm of Gilead. But speaking of that medicine, this shipment is very important to your uncle. Do you know what the man died of?"

"What?"

"The Wasting Disease. Dr. Bransby will be able to study his lungs."

I could scarce contain my elation.

"Now, as for you. Your story is that you come from a wealthy Maryland family. You are high placed. Your wastrel brother ran off when the war started because he didn't want to fight for the South. In Maryland they call it skedaddling. What with the war and all, nobody could locate him, but they've been on the trail. Your father is failing, so he couldn't come. He wants his son home, though he's been a drinker, a gambler, and an all-around bounder. His name is Johnny."

Fitting,
I thought.

"Johnny Collins. He must be buried with honor on the family land in Hagerstown in western Maryland. And not in Potter's Field. Hagerstown is about thirty percent Rebel. Here are some coins to give to the Ferryman. Robert will be waiting with a wagon, on the east side of the Almshouse. He'll be your faithful family servant. Dressed as an old man."

Robert. What would he do when he discovered it was me behind the black veil? Refuse to speak to me? Send me home? Well, I would have to count on the element of surprise. And the fact that it would be too late to stop things set in motion.

"But you must meet the Ferryman alone. He'll know you're from Dr. Bransby; but never falter in your act. Someone from the Board of Buzzards may be watching. You don't want to get the Ferryman in trouble. Anyway, he may have to go inside and ask their permission to release the body to you. They may come out to meet you. Play the part well if they do. It will be all right. Most men can't abide a weeping woman."

I thanked her and took up my bundle of clothing.

"Be careful," she said to me as I went out the door. "What you are doing is illegal in the eyes of the law. You could be arrested."

I hadn't thought about that.

"And if you are, there is one rule we hold firm. You must not tell them who you are doing this for. You must never mention the name of Dr. Bransby."

I went home with her ominous words in my ears. Still, I was more excited than frightened. Uncle Valentine was out. So was Maude. I went right to my room and showed my outfit to Ulysses. He approved.

I read
The History of Anatomy
until five. I was to meet Robert at seven. I heard Maude come in and start to fix supper. Maude could be a problem. But when I went downstairs to tell her I'd take a plate in my room, I could tell she had something else on her mind.

"I'm so upset about this Dr. Mudd thing. It sits ill on your uncle. It's wearing him down. Not to mention the business with Annie's mother. To think that they are going to hang that woman! What is the world coming to? There's a group of protestors uniting in front of the White House tonight, with torches. I've a mind to join them."

"Why don't you?" I said.

"You'll be all right?"

"Yes. I'll keep a lamp lit for Uncle Valentine."

She left. Merry was going with her, she said. Thank heaven for the women protestors. Thank heaven that Merry wouldn't be at the Almshouse. One less person to worry about. I left at six-thirty, dressed in black, to meet Robert.

I paid the driver of the hack a block from the Almshouse, which was at Nineteenth and C Streets, and set off on foot. A mild drizzle was coming down; fog from die Potomac wrapped the houses in a premature dusk. The cobblestones on the street were slippery. Was this the east side of the Almshouse? Yes, in the near distance, through the fog, I saw a wagon.

I felt awkward in the black silk dress. The hem was a bit too long and I had all I could do to keep from tripping on it. The veil obscured my vision, but I dared not remove it. The musty smell of the clothing was giving me a headache, even in the open air.

Was that man leaning against the wagon smoking a cheroot Robert? He had long gray hair, a shabby jacket, and a soft-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes. He stood up straight when he saw me approaching.

"Marietta?"

I made a sound of acknowledgment in my throat.

"Thank God. Are you all right? Where've you been all week? Dr. Bransby was worried. You haven't been sick, have you? I wanted to come 'round but couldn't get the time."

"I've not been sick."

"You sound like you are. What is it, your throat? I knew it. You shouldn't be out on a beastly night like this. Well, let's get it over with. I can see Potter's Field from here. I'll walk you up there. I understand it's a young man. The Wasting Disease. A good specimen, fresh. Since that brat of a niece of his let Addie go, he really needs this one. He was making such progress with Addie ... I can get this specimen right over to the lab tonight. It's a good thing about the hanging, in 3 way, don't you think? Everyone is up in arms over that. Maybe they'll leave us alone for a while." He took my arm "Here, just in case anyone's watching. You're grieving remember."

I felt the gentle strength of him supporting me. We walked like that for a few paces and then I tripped on the hem. If Robert hadn't been holding my arm, I'd have gone down. "Oh no!" I cried. I said it sharp and clear.

He stopped. Still holding my arm, he turned to look at me. "You're not Marietta." He said it calmly. Then he took the veil by its edge and lifted it from my face.

"It's
you!
"

"Don't be angry, Robert."

"By God!" He grabbed me by the forearms. "What in hell are you doing here? Are you crazy? Where did you get these clothes? This isn't a joke! We could get caught. Does he know you're here? Who sent you?"

All the while he was talking he was pulling me into the shadows of some high hedges. He still gripped my arms.