The Burying Ground (25 page)

Morgan nodded, but he still looked glum.

They waited until Christie, humming happily to himself, had gleaned whatever information he wanted from the dead body, then, once again, Thaddeus rolled up his sleeves to help Morgan restore a grave.

Thaddeus stuck to his story at the inquest, with the result that Cuthbert Nelson, as Cuddy's full name turned out to be, was acquitted of criminal responsibility in the death of Phillip Van Hansel, in spite of the fact that Cuddy was a known criminal with prior arrests for assault, robbery, and public drunkenness, none of which, however, had ever resulted in a conviction.

The jury seemed unconcerned about the desecration of the grave, which was just as well, as Cuddy had no explanation for what he and Hands had been doing in the Burying Ground that night.

“No, I think this judgment is fair,” Thaddeus said when Luke questioned whether they should have mentioned that Cuddy was, in fact, shooting at someone else when he hit Van Hansel by mistake. “After all, we have no idea who that someone else was, or what motives anyone had. Let it lie. With any luck, Cuddy will be grateful that we backed his story and forget about the incident with the dog.”

The newspapers, however, were not prepared to be so generous and howled their dismay at the verdict.
The Daily Patriot
seemed particularly incensed by what they termed the “incompetence” of the jury in failing to ask a number of pertinent questions.

“What was a prominent businessman like Phillip Van Hansel doing in a remote graveyard with such a ruffian?” Dr. Christie read out at the breakfast table the day after the ruling was handed down. “One can only conclude that Nelson lured him there with the intent to murder, as evinced by his attempt to open a grave so that he could dispose of the body. No one with a sensible mind would countenance the notion that an upstanding citizen like Van Hansel would participate in a crime so odious as grave robbing. There are far more sinister elements to this tragic incident than were revealed at the inquest.”

“Now that's a true statement,” Thaddeus remarked. “Although I can't for the life of me figure out what they are.”

“Odd business, to be sure,” Christie said. “I'm not convinced we'll ever know the truth of the matter. And Spicer was so optimistic that you could sort it out for him.”

“I don't seem to be able to sort out much of anything for poor Morgan,” Thaddeus said. “I couldn't make him a preacher, I couldn't solve his puzzle, and I can't even give him any practical advice on what to do about his current difficulties.”

“What difficulties?” Luke asked. “Now that the graves are safe, I thought his troubles would be over.”

“The Board of Trustees at the Burying Ground has notified him that his position may be terminated soon. The village intends to circulate a petition to have the cemetery closed. The trustees will ask the families to move the bodies.”

Christie was skeptical. “Not that nonsense again.” He shook his head. “People can petition all they like, but nothing can happen until the legislature gives its approval. That will take years, if it happens at all. Not to mention the fundamental flaw in the scheme. It's a Potter's Field. Most of the bodies buried there have no family to move them. It could all be done at public expense, I suppose, but someone would have to vote funds for the purpose, and I can't see anyone being in favour of that. Tell Spicer to stop worrying.”

“I suppose you're right,” Thaddeus said. “I'll tell him. I hope it will cheer him up.”

Luke was sure that the majority of his problems were now neatly resolved. He was square with Christie and confident that his position as junior physician was secure. The old doctor didn't give much credence to Luke's theory that typhoid fever had come from the millpond, but at Luke's insistence, he did promise to keep his hunters away from the pond in the summertime, just in case.

He was also on a far more even keel with his father. Their latest adventure had restored some of the camarad­erie Luke had felt when they'd been chasing the trail that first led them to Hands. He was finding mealtimes entertaining affairs when Thaddeus was in Yorkville. Now that he was no longer so preoccupied with his worries, he felt free to join the spiralling conversations and sometimes even managed to surprise the two older men with an observation or point of view that hadn't occurred to either of them.

The source of Lavinia Van Hansel's complaint — her husband — would no longer be an aggravation to her, and surely she would now find herself in comfortable enough circumstances, if the amounts secreted in the coffins were any indication. Van Hansel had been a rich man. Lavinia would now be a rich widow. She could do whatever she wanted. There was no longer any reason for her to manipulate Perry, or anyone else for that matter.

Luke still regretted his hasty words to Perry, but he concluded that there was no way to set it right again. There had not been a single word from him in the weeks since Van Hansel's death. Luke couldn't blame him for that. Not after the accusations that had been hurled. Even if Perry gave him an opportunity to explain, Luke wasn't sure that any explanation would be enough to justify what he'd said.

He tried, as much as possible, to put Perry out of his mind, but now that there was no epidemic to keep him occupied he found that he had only occasional cases to see in the morning and that his afternoons were by and large free. He began to understand why Christie was so absorbed in the reconstruction of skeletons. Luke had no intention of taking up so strange a hobby, but he needed to find something to do.

One afternoon, just after Mrs. Dunphy cleared away the dinner dishes and Christie disappeared into the shed, Luke wandered into the parlour and was looking idly through the shelves for something to read when he heard a knock at the front door.

When he opened it, he was surprised to find Cherub Ebenezer standing there.

“Dr. Lewis! I'm glad it's you who answered. I need to talk to you.”

“By all means, come through to the office.” He could think of no reason why Cherub would seek him out unless Lavinia had some new demand to make of him. He couldn't begin to think what it might be, but in spite of his understanding with Christie, he decided that it would be far better to keep their conversation private. He motioned her to a chair and took his place behind the desk.

“What do you want?”

She seemed not at all put out by his directness. “Did you find what we asked you to look for?”

“Yes, but I don't know why you need it. Surely the problem has been resolved?”

“Anything but. We need it more than ever. By the time the dust settles Lavinia will be lucky if she has the clothes on her back. The vultures will have picked them all away.”

“I don't understand,” Luke said. “Hands was rich. Lavinia should have plenty of money now, shouldn't she?”

“Yes, Phillip had a lot of money. But everything he had is tied up somehow. Concealed. So that no finger could ever be pointed at him should anyone come asking questions. He also borrowed a lot to invest in railroads. His creditors are calling in the loans. His partners will make sure that they get their share of what's left. Lavinia has no call on any of it.”

Luke had no knowledge of business and how it worked, but he found it hard to believe that Lavinia would be left with nothing. “But surely there was some provision made,” he said. “Hands can't have left her destitute.”

“He didn't intend to. His will left her the use of the house and a yearly amount in maintenance, to be paid from the estate, with his brother Peter as the executor.”

“Well, there you go then. She'll be all right, won't she? With her brother-in-law to look after her?”

“You really don't understand what the law does to women, do you, Luke?” Cherub said. “Anything Lavinia gets is on Peter's sufferance. And Peter Van Hansel is an avaricious bastard. If there's anything left of Phillip's estate, he'll take it.”

“Can she not go to the courts? Isn't she entitled to a certain percentage or something?” Luke's knowledge of property law was even sketchier than his knowledge of business, but he couldn't believe that the widow of a wealthy man could be left in such dreadful straits.

“A percentage of nothing is still nothing,” Cherub said. “Peter claims there's not enough money to pay her anything at all. I've been asked to leave. And he's already put the house up for sale. We need to know what you know, Luke.”

Luke debated for only a moment before he realized that his course of action was clear. He could get rid of Lavinia Van Hansel with the stroke of a pen. And, for once, the expedient choice also happened to be, as far as he was concerned, the ethical one.

“I have the names from the Burying Ground. There were eight in all. Hands took two. You already have one. That leaves five. That should be enough, I would think.” He grabbed a piece of paper and found a pen. He was pleased that he had no difficulty remembering the names and was able to write them down quickly. He handed the paper to Cherub, and the look of relief on her face confirmed the truth of her story. “How were you planning to get at them?” he asked.

She shrugged. “That part we haven't figured out yet. But at least now we know where to dig.”

“You won't get away with digging up more than one, you know. There's been too much publicity in connection with Van Hansel's death. If any more graves are tampered with it will be reported in the newspapers and the Board of Trustees will have to investigate. After that, the Burying Ground would be watched far too closely.”

She took a moment to digest this, then her voice took on an edge of panic as she realized the truth of what Luke was saying. “Are you suggesting we dig them up all at once? How do we do that?”

“If I tell you how to get them, do you promise me that you and Lavinia will go away?” he said. “And I don't mean ‘go away' as in ‘leave me alone.' I mean ‘go away' as in you'll leave the country.”

“That's an easy promise to make. That's what we want to do anyway. Life would be far easier for us in Europe.”

“Then you should know that there's a petition to close the Burying Ground. The village wants the land. The trustees are asking families to move the graves.”

Cherub's eyes grew wide. “So all we have to do is claim the bodies and take them somewhere else?”

“Yes. It will cost you a little to have them carted and you'll have to pay for cemetery plots somewhere else, but it won't amount to a lot. After all, you've already stolen one metal box full of money.”

“But won't it look suspicious if we claim all five?”

Luke shook his head. “Split it up. Lavinia can sign for three of them, you for the other two.”

“A coloured woman? Will they believe that they're mine?”

Luke smiled. “Who's to say different? One of the bodies that Hands dug up was a coloured man. Far more likely at the Burying Ground than at any other cemetery in the city, I'd say.”

Her worried face relaxed a little, but Luke could tell that she was still puzzled by something.

“Don't worry,” he said. “The village is anxious to have the ground closed. There won't be any argument. And none of the people you're carting away have any family to ask questions about what you're doing.”

“It's not that,” she said. “I just can't figure out why Hands went to all the bother of digging in the first place. He could have just marched in and offered to pay for the removal.”

“There's been talk of closing the cemetery for years, but no one took it seriously until just recently. He might not have known about it. I was told once that he had his hands in everything, but he may have thought Yorkville wasn't worth reaching for.”

“Thank you, Luke.” She rose to leave, but just as she reached the door she turned to him, an odd expression on her handsome face. “You have no idea what this means to us. Or maybe you do. We're not so different, Lavinia and I, from you and Perry.” And then she let herself out.

Luke was surprised at her revelation, but then he realized that he shouldn't have been. He should have seen it before. Poor Lavinia. He could almost feel sorry for her.

A week later, Luke had just finished checking on old Mrs. Cory and was walking down Yonge Street when he noticed Spicer and his father in the Burying Ground and a carter's dray rolling slowly along the laneway. Curious, he walked over to the cemetery and down the lane to discover Lavinia Van Hansel perched on the cart beside a very dirty and disreputable-looking driver, who jammed his hat down farther over his face when ordered to stop. As he drew closer, Luke saw that the strain of the last few weeks showed clearly on Lavinia's face. The lines around her mouth had deepened and there were new ones at the corners of her eyes. Her skin was still porcelain, but she no longer reminded him of a china doll.

“Dr. Lewis! How lovely to see you!” she said.

He nodded to her. “And you.” He glanced at the wagon's load. There were three coffins stacked in the bed, jammed up against a large steamer trunk. “On your way to a funeral?”

“Oh,” she said, with a wave of her hand, “my mother's family, you know. We'd quite lost track of them until we heard the Burying Ground was closing. I've purchased them a nice shady plot at the Necropolis.”

“Excellent plan.”

“Thank you, Luke.”

“Pure self-interest.”

“No,” she said, “providing the names was self-interest. Offering the means of removal was an act of kindness.”

Luke glanced over to where his father and Spicer were standing, and was relieved to see that they were too far away to overhear the conversation. “I‘ve been the recipient of great kindnesses myself,” he said. “My benefactors would also claim self-interest, I suppose, but they were kind nonetheless. You're welcome.”

The driver shifted in his seat impatiently, drawing Luke's attention. There was something in the way he held the reins that seemed familiar. And then Luke realized that it was Perry, dressed up to look like a particularly slovenly carter. Lavinia had evidently exerted one last little bit of pressure and enlisted Perry to help her move the coffins. She didn't seem to find it odd that Perry had yet to speak to him. She must have been told that he and Luke had fallen out.

“You know, it's almost too bad I'm not staying in Toronto,” Lavinia went on. “You're a fascinating man, Dr. Lewis. I would like to have known you better.”

“And if that were the case, I would be running as fast as I could in the opposite direction,” Luke said.

She smiled. “Just tell me one thing before I go, never to be seen again in this fair city. How did you know about my husband? You hadn't been here for more than a few weeks, and yet you already knew all about him.”

Luke hadn't expected to see Lavinia Van Hansel again, and he certainly hadn't considered telling her about the night in the cabinetmaker's yard. Even though there was little danger in her knowing now, a part of him was still reluctant to give up the secret. Except that Perry was sitting there beside her. If he told Lavinia, Perry couldn't help but hear. Maybe it would make a difference, maybe it wouldn't. But it was probably the only opportunity Luke would ever have to explain himself.

“I was there the night your husband was shot,” he said.

“Yes, I know. Cherub saw you in the graveyard.”

“No, not that time. The
first
time.”

She looked at him with astonishment and then she began to laugh, a deep chuckle that lit up her face and washed away the lines.

“You were
there
?” she said, looking at him with delight. “Oh my goodness, what are the chances? Tell me what happened. He wouldn't ever say. Was it you who shot him?”

“No, it wasn't me, but I was there. My father and I were trying to track down the family of an Irish emigrant girl whose parents died of fever. The trail led us to Toronto, where we discovered that the girl had been tricked into entering a brothel by people who worked for Hands. In the process of finding her, we also discovered that your husband was involved in any number of discreditable activities. There was the embezzlement of the liquor rations, the coffin-stuffing. And he raped a girl. As soon as she had a chance and a gun she took a shot at him.”

“What happened to the girl afterward? Or do I want to know?”

“She got away. With our help. As far as I know she's in the States somewhere with the love of her life.”

“Good for her,” Lavinia said. “I'm glad.”

Perry sat with his head down, his hat still covering his face. He hadn't moved, but Luke knew he was listening, could
feel
him listening.

“There's more,” Luke said. He wanted to make sure that Perry understood exactly what the stakes had been. “My father wrote a letter to Anthony Hawke and told him everything we knew. That's the reason Hawke suspected your husband.”

Perry's ludicrous hat tilted up just a bit as he shifted his head to hear.

“Your father is the older gentleman over there with the Keeper?” Lavinia asked. “He must be. You look just like him. And he's here in Yorkville as well?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it's no wonder you went skulking out the garden door as soon as you saw Phillip at the house that night. You and your father would have been in a very precarious position if he had realized who you were. He never liked being crossed.”