Death in Salem (8 page)

“Mustafa.” The young maid—Annie—opened the door and called out. “Come quickly, Miss Mary needs you.”

With a final glare at Rees, Mustafa turned and followed Annie inside. Through the door, Rees saw a rich carpet and a chandelier. Several women in wrappers glided by the opening before Mustafa slammed it shut. Rees realized with a start that this house was one of the Salem brothels. He did not like to think of young Annie inside, witnessing God knew what, and exposed to all manner of behaviors. If that were Jerusha inside, Rees would storm the front door and snatch her away. But, reluctantly, he accepted the fact he could do nothing for Annie, and he continued on.

By returning to Mrs. Baldwin's Emporium, Rees was able to orient himself and find his way northwest to the Boothe house. He realized as he plodded along Essex that he could have cut through one of the cross streets instead of walking south and then north again. The Boothe house, like many other fine houses built by the merchants, lay near the Commons but within easy reach of the harbor.

The servant who answered the door eyed Rees's worn clothing askance and reluctantly invited him inside. “Miss Peggy is expecting you,” he said, his tone gruff with disapproval.

“Masters William and Matthew as well?” Rees asked.

“Mr. Boothe,” the servant said, emphasizing the honorific so as to put Rees in his place, “is in the morning room with Miss Peggy.”

“Matthew is still abed then,” Rees said. The servant did not deign to reply. He bowed Rees into the morning room and retreated. Peggy, her black weeds a smudge against the blue brocade upholstery, sat before a sewing table of fine Chinese lacquer, the open top revealing a harbor scene in gold inlay. Although most of the ships were many-masted American merchants, some of the golden pictures were of single-sailed exotic ships with pointed prows that suggested a harbor on the other side of the world.

William turned from his position by the window and regarded Rees in an unfriendly silence. Like Peggy, William wore black; only his linen and stockings were white, but he wore his somber clothing with the comfort of a familiar uniform. William, Rees was beginning to realize, was a throwback to the Puritan dawn of this city. He held a cigar in one hand and smoke wreathed his head.

“Oh, Mr. Rees,” Miss Peggy cried. “Thank you for bringing Xenobia back to us.” She slanted a challenging glance at her brother. William frowned.

“And how is Xenobia this morning?” Rees asked, pretending he had not seen her last night.

Peggy smiled. “Still shaken by her sojourn in the jail but recovering.”

“She has too much imagination,” William said. “Imagining she heard the cries of the women held there during the witch trials … ridiculous.”

“Anyone would be distressed after a night in jail,” Peggy said.

“What do you want?” William asked Rees, just short of being rude. He clearly did not know of his sister's invitation.

“Why, to speak with you and your sisters and brother. I have additional questions.”

“Why aren't you out searching for the sailor who killed my father instead of torturing us?” William interrupted. “We are a house in mourning.”

“And I wish to see the tunnels,” Rees continued as if William had not spoken. “Tell me, do you know where your father was heading when he was attacked?”

“Nowhere in particular,” William said. “If you suspect my father of smuggling, I assure you, you couldn't be more wrong. He was known in this city for his probity and would never countenance an illegal activity.”

Rees stared at William in surprise. He had not mentioned smuggling, and defending Jacob Boothe against such a charge seemed suspiciously premature.

“What my brother says is true,” Peggy agreed. Tears flooded her eyes but by an effort of will she kept them from falling. “But of course, my father used the tunnels for other purposes.”

“Was he planning a visit to Georgianne?” Rees said, keeping his gaze fixed upon William. The other man's face reddened.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said stiffly. “And even to suggest … and in my sister's presence.” Rees turned his gaze toward Peggy. He would not be surprised if she already knew about her father's interest.

“You're going to be late to your meeting,” Peggy said now, her voice low and calming. William glanced from her to Rees.

“As you see, I have no time to speak with you now,” William said. “If you wish, you may return tonight, around seven.” His tone was so antagonistic Rees wondered if, should he accept that reluctant invitation, William would even come home.

With a final frown directed at Rees, William left the room.

“Please sit down, Mr. Rees,” Peggy said. “My neck is developing a pain from staring up at you.”

Rees cautiously lowered himself onto one of the delicate-appearing chairs.

“I'll show you the tunnels,” Peggy said briskly. “I assure you, however, as my brother said, my father would never engage in smuggling.” She smiled. “Xenobia told me of your suggestion. But he was probably planning a visit to his mistress. She does not dwell very near the docks. Father simply used the tunnel to escape the house, no doubt exiting at his counting house.” Rees stared at her, surprised and, yes, a little shocked by her calm acceptance of her father's illicit connection.

“I am not surprised you know,” he said, “but you discuss her so, so…” He couldn't think of an appropriate word. Gently bred young women were not supposed to reveal their knowledge of such things, especially so matter-of-factly.

“Oh please, Mr. Rees,” she said. “I did not expect you to be as condescending as my brother. Frankly, he can be so maddening. Do you have sisters?”

“Yes,” Rees said. “Two sisters.”

“Well, I hope you don't treat them as though they are empty-headed ninnies.”

“I think Caroline would say I do,” Rees said. And, he admitted to himself, he probably did. Oh, not so much with Phoebe. She was only two years younger than Rees and had a much more easy-going personality than their sister. But Caroline was the baby and spoiled, at least in Rees's opinion. He'd gotten in the habit of lording it over her. Shamed by that realization, he promised himself he would do better in the future.

“Oh dear. I expected more from your good sense. Of course my father had a mistress. William, well, he expects his sisters to strive for a certain level of behavior. I have no patience for it. And, since he has spent almost a year in Baltimore, he has forgotten my many flaws.” She offered Rees an impish grin. “He's become a dry stick, wouldn't you agree?”

“Baltimore?” Rees refused to express an opinion on William, although he agreed with Peggy's assessment.

“Mr. Joshua Humphreys is the acknowledged master of shipbuilding. And since Congress is now demonstrating some interest in re-establishing the Navy, my father sent William to Baltimore to learn from the best. Personally, I think Salem's own Enos Briggs would have been as excellent a teacher.”

Rees nodded in understanding. At the close of the War for Independence, Congress had disbanded the Navy because of the expense. But now, with Britain continuing to capture American ships and impress American seamen into the British Navy, the increasing hostilities with France, and the pirates from the Barbary Coast who attacked American merchantmen, Congress was rethinking their over-hasty decision. “And this Georgianne? Do you know her full name and her direction?”

A frown marred Peggy's white brow. “Her last name is Foster. I don't know exactly where she lives, although I believe it is close to Turner Street. Or was it Beckett? No matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “I learned of my father's connection recently.” She smiled again, but Rees thought he detected hurt underneath her flippant worldly manner. “He seemed genuinely attached and I wondered if he might marry her, when my mother passed on.” Her blunt assessment once again disconcerted Rees, and he felt his mouth twitch.

“I hope you don't think me callous. You must understand, Mr. Rees, that my mother was ill for many years. Recently she became quite frail. And at only forty-two. Yet none of us were surprised.” She stopped abruptly. Rees recalled his sighting of Jacob Boothe after the funeral and nodded in understanding. Boothe had been in his fifties and, although his fair hair glittered with silver, he had been robust.

“And how did you feel about this connection?” Rees asked, leaning forward. Peggy gazed down at her hands. He watched her expression shift and shift again. She wanted to lie, he could see that, but her innate honesty wouldn't allow it.

“I would rather he waited until he was a widower,” she said at last, meeting his eyes. “My mother had so little joy in her life. The constant pain…” Her mouth twisted and tears again filled her eyes. “She suffered so. And she knew about Miss Foster.”

“Did anyone else know about Georgianne Foster?” asked Rees. “Your sister? Your brother Matthew? I assume William didn't learn of it until he returned home?” Peggy nodded.

“Yes. We all knew except William. Someone mentioned it. William was furious. He felt my father's behavior dishonored my mother.”

“And they fought about it,” Rees said, recalling Xenobia's report. Peggy nodded reluctantly.

“But William would never harm Father,” she said quickly. “Never.” Rees reserved judgment. William certainly had a temper and he was a tall, strong young man, well able to attack another man with a sword.

“How did Betsy and Matthew react when they learned about Georgianne?”

“You should probably ask them.”

“I will. And they‘ll probably lie to me. But that won't matter. I'll find the truth.” He paused, and when she folded her lips together defiantly he added, “By your reaction, I would guess neither of your siblings was happy about the relationship.”

“I think we should…”

“Oh Peggy, I heard voices.” Betsy Boothe paused in the doorway. Rees entertained the cynical notion that she knew how well her black gown suited her and hesitated in the doorway for dramatic effect. “Oh, it's you. I mean, how nice to see you, Mr. Rees. I thought, I hoped, it might be my fianc
é
. I'm expecting him.” She floated into the room and perched upon a chair near her sister, the multi-armed blue statuette at her elbow. The foreignness of the object pointed up Betsy's fair American beauty. “We are both so distraught over the postponement of our nuptials and now, with the tragic loss of my father, well, I don't know when my wedding will take place.” Peggy put out a hand to halt the flow of words from her sister's mouth.

“Mr. Rees has a question for you,” she murmured. “About Father's mistress.”

“Mistress?” Betsy uttered a light laugh. “Oh, I don't know anything about that. Surely my father would never…”

“Georgianne Foster,” Rees said, cutting her off without a qualm. “I know you knew of her.”

“Not really,” she demurred. “Father kept most of his dealings from me. I only heard a rumor about a woman and of course I paid no attention. I didn't believe it for one thing, and for another I never listen to gossip. But if it were true, I do wish he had been more discreet. Mr. Morris is a stickler about such things and he…”

“Did your father ever mention Miss Foster to you?” Rees interrupted.

Betsy's eyes widened. “Of course not. He would never discuss such things with me. And I wouldn't want to know. Besides, my father would never humiliate my mother in such a way.” Rees noticed Peggy's eyebrows rise as she rolled her eyes. “Especially when she was so ill. The love between my parents was a great love, Mr. Rees, a love I hope to attain in my own marriage. Surely you must agree with me. Are you married?”

“I am,” he said, imagining how Lydia would react to Betsy. His wife had little patience for the fluttery lilies of the field.

“Mr. Rees has come to see the tunnel,” Peggy interrupted. “I promised to show him where Father died. Do you care to join us?”

Big tears filled Betsy's blue eyes. “Of course not. How can you bear to see where…?” She shuddered delicately. “I would never sleep again. Every time I closed my eyes I would imagine Father, lying there, so cold and still. And in that nasty, dirty place.”

“You'll feel better when you've eaten your breakfast,” Peggy said, offering her sister a brisk pat upon the shoulder. Rising to her feet, she said to Rees, “Are you ready? Follow me.”

Rees rose as well and followed Peggy from the room. She collected her cloak and lit a lantern before preceding him downstairs, through the kitchen, and into the basement. As they passed through the cellar, she lit several lanterns placed at strategic intervals. Rees could see fairly well and looked around curiously. The cellar was being used as an arm of the warehouses: boxes and twine-tied bales, casks and barrels, and small elaborate chests identified with exotic markings were crowded together on boards. On top of one stack sat an open tea chest brimming with jewelry. Gold and silver trinkets caught the candlelight and threw it back in dancing flashes. “I'm sorry about this,” Peggy said with a wave of her hand, as Rees squeezed his large body through the narrow path. “William moved some of the most recently arrived cargo here. He had to examine it himself.”

“This isn't all of it?” Rees asked, staring around in disbelief.

“Not even a quarter. William moved what he deemed the most valuable. He has this disturbing notion we are being robbed. Ridiculous! Anyway,” she added with a quick glance over her shoulder, “I hope this will soon return to the warehouse where it belongs.”

Peggy led Rees through a second room, just as full as the first, and to a small nondescript door set into the stone wall at the back. She unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Although Rees had expected total darkness, some illumination entered the tunnel through a square of glass blocks in the ceiling. The light that came through bore a faint greenish cast, as though the skylight above had been set in a garden. Peggy held the lantern high so Rees could look around, revealing a rough chamber constructed of stones and packed dirt. The air smelled of damp and soil and, very faintly, of the sea. “How long have these tunnels been here?” Rees asked, his words returning with an indistinct echo.