The Grave Robber's Secret (11 page)

They were in front of a home with a low stone wall, and Martha sank down on it while he spoke. Robby sat beside her, and for a moment she said nothing. Then she began to nod her head. “I think it's still gambling. Yes, that's it. They are setting up their own little gambling house.”

Robby didn't agree. “But Da said their plan was dangerous.”

“Likely they are laying plans to put lots of money into the game and cheat other men. That could be really dangerous.”

“Maybe.” Robby frowned. He could not bring himself to tell Martha that he suspected worse. “I'm going to try to stay awake more, see what's going on.”

“I'll be watchful too.” Martha stood, took Robby's hand, and pulled. “Come on. Let's not let our fathers ruin our splendid day.”

Robby could not shake away the dark thoughts. When after a couple more blocks they came to Saint Mary's burial ground, he stopped. “I'd like to walk through the cemetery.”

“Why?” Martha asked.

“I'm wondering if there are new graves.” They had reached the arched entrance. They stepped inside and looked out over the rows of stones.

“Don't you suppose there are bound to be several new graves?” said Martha. “That doesn't mean our fathers were digging people up last night. They wouldn't have brought someone home if they were doing that.”

“I guess you're right,” he said.

“Let's not walk in here.” Martha took a step back.

“All right, let's go on down to the square and get our ride to Fairmount. The place is a sight to see. Miss Stone took me there about four years ago. You're going to love it.”

Just then he saw a figure hunched against the cemetery rock wall. Martha had turned away, and Robby pulled at her arm. “Wait,” he said. “That's Jane.” He moved toward the woman, who raised her head. She was wrapped in a shawl that Robby had never seen. He came closer and thought that he saw fear in her eyes. “Jane,” he said softly. “I'm Robby.” He pointed to Martha who had followed him. “You know my friend Martha too. We would never hurt you.”

Jane reached toward Martha. “Oh, your hair,” she said. “My little girl had hair like yours.” Her shawl fell away from her shoulders, and Robby was glad to see that she wore Miss Stone's brown dress.

Martha put her hand into the big pocket she had tied around her waist and took out the bread. “We've brought you something good to eat.”

“Thank you.” Jane took the bread and began to take large bites.

Martha sat down on the ground beside Jane. “Do you remember when Robby and I took you to the Quakers' almshouse?”

Jane nodded. “And you held my hand.” She stuck the last piece of bread into her mouth and held out her hand to Martha. “I liked it when you held my hand.”

Martha took Jane's hand between both of her own. “Why did you leave the Quakers? You were warm there, and safe.”

“I missed my family.”

“Where is your family, dear?” Martha asked.

Jane pointed to a group of graves. “Right over there,” she said. “My family is over there.”

Robby moved to look at the stones. There was a stone for a man and a woman, probably Jane's parents. There was also another stone, smaller, with a tiny angel engraved on it. It read “Beth, daughter of Jane, 1868–1871.” Robby sucked in his breath. So poor Daft Jane had really had a daughter, one born the same year he was born, one who had died at three. Robby wondered why no father's name was listed. Was Jane deranged even before the child was born? Likely they would never know. He walked back to where Martha still sat beside the woman on the ground.

“I sleep here, you know,” she said as she chewed. “Over there. That willow tree makes a nice little cave, and I have a warm blanket now. Not many people come to the cemetery at night. When it gets colder I'll go with you to the Quakers.”

“Martha,” Robby said, “maybe we'd better go on our way now. We will come another day and bring you food, Jane.”

Jane shook her head several times. “Don't come at night.”

“We won't,” said Robby.

“You did once, though,” said Jane. She twisted her face, thinking. “No, no, that's not right. Robby came twice at night. I saw him. Once I was me and once I was a bird.” She smiled. “I was a great big owl, and I watched what you and that man did.”

Robby's face burned with shame. “I shouldn't have done that,” he said. “I'll never do it again.”

Jane seemed to have forgotten they were there. She began to dig at the earth with her fingernails. “I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,” she sang.

Robby and Martha walked back through the big gate and out onto the street. At Northwest Square they found an omnibus with
FAIRMOUNT
painted on it. It looked full, but a boy, slightly older than they, called out to them from the door. “We got room, do you want to come? Won't be another 'bus for an hour.”

They climbed the step, and the boy took their money. “Full up now,” he yelled up to the driver. “Just squeeze right in,” he said to Robby and Martha, “one to each side.” Robby sat beside a young man with a large roll of paper between his feet.

“It's drawing paper,” the young man said when he saw Robby looking at the roll. “I mean to draw what I see at Fairmount.”

Martha sat across from Robby beside a young mother and her little girl. “We're going for a picnic,” the child said. “Mama has cheese and bread and some cake.” She pointed to the basket on her mother's lap.

Robby leaned back against the seat and looked at the city as it passed. Just outside of town, the bus stopped to let all the passengers out at a park at the foot of a high hill. They climbed out of the bus with the other travelers. “This hill is named Lemon Hill,” Robby told Martha He pointed to a big building just below the reservoir. “And see that building? That's where the water for the whole city comes from. They dam up the Schuylkill River and send it out to all the houses. I think that is amazing, all that water traveling around Philadelphia.”

“Oh, look,” cried Martha, and she ran to a white marble statue in a fountain.

“Miss Stone told me she is called a nymph,” Robby said. They watched the water spray up and fall down, and then they wandered on through the park. All of Philadelphia seemed to be enjoying springtime at Fairmount Park. Ladies in brightly colored dresses and big hats walked on the arms of gentleman wearing top hats and coats with long tails. Many of the men carried walking sticks like the one Martha's papa carried, but Robby tried not to dwell on that stick.

They bought two soft pretzels from a vendor and found an empty bench to sit on while they ate. “Yum,” said Martha, “these are really good. I've never had one before.”

“Pretzels are very popular in Philadelphia.” Robby shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know why. They say monks used to make them in Germany or somewhere to give kids who learned their catechisms, and the hard ones got discovered when a baker left some in the oven too long. He just happened to taste one before he threw it away and liked it, so he started making hard ones too.”

Two little boys came chasing a hoop that ran directly into Martha. Before the boys could get to her, she stood, handed Robby her pretzel, and sent the hoop rolling. She laughed. “I'd have been mad if that thing had made me drop my pretzel,” she said.

When they had finished, they drank from the fountain and bought some chestnuts from a vendor closer to the water. They settled themselves on a large rock to eat and watch travelers board a big paddleboat powered by steam. “Maybe we'll come back here after I've saved some money from my job and go for a ride down the river.”

Martha sighed. “Oh, I hope so, Robby. I hope Papa and I will always stay in Philadelphia. I like living at your house.”

“Don't you think you will stay?”

Martha shrugged. “Papa worries me. He doesn't seem happy, the way he was in Boston. Of course, Mama was alive then.”

Robby bit at his lower lip. “I'm still worried about what our fathers are up to, Martha. I don't know if it is just gambling.” A shudder passed over him. “I have a real bad feeling. Just can't help it.”

“I promise I'll tell you if I get any hints about their new business.”

They watched two nurses pushing carriages along the walk. “Sometimes I wish I could be a baby again,” said Martha. “Babies don't have to worry.”

“Well,” said Robby, “we'd better start home.” He shaded his eyes and looked up at the sun. “It's afternoon now.”

On the return trip, the omnibus was not so crowded. Robby and Martha had a seat to themselves. Martha leaned against the window and took a quick nap. Robby did not feel sleepy, but he did not watch from the window as he had on the way there. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about his father and Mr. Burke, tried to pretend he was not afraid of going home to the house with the broken stoop.

Back at the square, men worked at building a sort of platform. Robby and Martha climbed down from the omnibus. “Can you tell me what it is they are making?” Robby called back to the boy who had collected money for the ride and who was getting off the bus too.

The older boy stepped down to the ground. “You really don't know? Where you been, fellow? Must be a country bumpkin.”

“I've been right here in Philadelphia, but I really don't know.”

“Why, that's a gallows. There's a man waiting to get himself a nice little swing right here tomorrow. Maybe you'll want to come and watch.” He laughed and clapped Robby on the back.

Martha pulled at Robby's sleeve. “Hurry, let's go,” she said. “I don't want to watch that thing being built.” They said nothing on the way home.

Mr. Burke was in the parlor reading a newspaper. Martha went to put her arm around his shoulder and leaned against him. “Where have you been, my pet?” he asked.

“We went to a wonderful park by the river and ate pretzels. Have you ever had one?”

Burke shook his head. “I have not.”

“You must have one. They are scrumptious, and everybody in Philadelphia eats them.”

He laughed and reached up to pat her hand. “On your recommendation, I will certainly buy one, my darling.”

“And Papa, Robby and I want to go on a boat that travels down the river, but you will need to give me money for that.”

Burke frowned. “I don't care for the idea of your sailing on the river with a mere boy.” He smiled up at her. “Perhaps one day soon I will take you and young Mr. Hare for such a ride.”

Martha clapped her hands. “Oh, that would be lovely, Papa.” She looked at Robby. The idea of going anywhere with William Burke made his skin crawl, but he tried to smile for Martha's sake.

Burke folded his newspaper. “I am going up to my bedchamber now to do a bit of paperwork.”

Martha moved toward the stairs also. “I'm going up to see Alley,” she said. “She gets lonely when I am gone very long.”

Robby could hear his father talking to his mother in the kitchen, and he did not want to go in there. An idea came to him. It would be interesting to see if any changes had been made in Miss Stone's room. He waited until he heard the doors close on both Martha's and her father's rooms. He began to tiptoe up the stairs. Carefully he opened the door, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.

The room seemed just as it was after he and his mother had cleaned it, except for an unpleasant smell. The trunk holding Miss Stone's things still stood beside one wall, but there was one thing different. The table that once stood by the door had been moved to the center of the room. Three chairs were pulled around it. Burke must have brought a chair from his room. An empty liquor bottle lay on its side, and a half-filled glass stood beside the bottle. There was also a deck of cards.

Maybe Martha was right. Maybe their fathers had brought a gambler home last night. Robby moved to the window at the foot of the bed. Should he open it slightly to air the room? No, he decided to leave it just as he had found it.

He wanted to forget his father and Burke. He would go outside, find something to do where the air was clean. The garden would be a good job. For two days, he worked in the backyard with a shovel turning over soil for the vegetable garden he and Ma would plant. In the shed was a handheld plow left there by his mother's uncle. After he turned the soil, he used the plow to make furrows for planting. For those two days he was tired at night and slept soundly. Still, he was pretty sure that no one came or went from the house.

CHAPTER NINE

O
n the third night, he woke to the sound of the front door opening. He tiptoed into the parlor, staying close to the wall, and then hid himself behind the big stuffed chair. Someone lit the oil light in the front hall. Robby peeked out from his hiding place and could see three figures Da, Burke, and a woman. Someone made a comment, but Robby could not make out the words. Then he heard a laugh. It was the woman. Robby was surprised to know that a woman would come to play cards with two men. He had not known that women gambled. Robby considered following them upstairs, but returned to his pallet instead. Sneaking around in the dark would only land him in trouble, should Burke or Da discover him. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, Robby fell asleep. He never heard the woman leave.

The next morning Martha lingered beside him as she moved over to her side of the table. She dropped a tiny piece of paper into Robby's lap, and moved her head ever so slightly, telling him to say nothing. Martha ate little breakfast, only one bite of a sausage. “I'm sorry,” she said to Ma. “I seem to have no appetite.” She picked up the meat. “If you will excuse me, I'll just take this up to Alley.” She kissed her father's cheek and left the room.

Robby wanted to leave the table too, but he knew that might arouse suspicion. He ate a big sausage and some buttered bread. Burke lingered over his breakfast for what seemed like forever. When finally the man was out the front door, Robby went into the parlor. Even though neither Da nor Ma could read, he did not want to be questioned about the piece of paper. The letters were small, but Robby's eyes were good. “Come to my room when you can. I've something to show you.”

He walked back to the swinging door, opened it slightly, and said, “Ma, I'll be back in just a minute to help clean up. That kitten is loose. I saw it on the top stair.”

“I won't have the thing down here,” said Da, but Robby did not wait to reply. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and knocked lightly on Martha's door.

She let him in at once. In her hand was a woman's shoe. When the door was closed, she handed it to Robby, then sank to sit on the edge of her bed. “I stumbled over it in the hall last night. Something woke me. Maybe it was the closing of the front door. I decided to see if Papa was in his room. He wasn't, but I found that lady's shoe. Is it your mother's?”

Robby studied the shoe, a well-worn lady's black slipper with a pointed toe. He shook his head. “It's not Ma's or Miss Stone's.”

“How do you suppose it came to be in the hall?”

Still holding the shoe, he moved about the room, trying to decide what to say.

“Robby,” Martha said, “tell me what you are thinking.”

“They brought a woman home with them last night. I heard them come in, and I heard her laugh.” He pulled a chair from the table, moving it so that he could see Martha's face. “I never heard anyone leave.”

“But why would she leave a shoe behind?”

He shrugged. “I don't know, except maybe if she got really drunk. I know they had strong drink in that room before. Maybe they got her drunk so's to be able to cheat her out of money. Maybe she was too far gone to notice when her shoe fell off.”

“Is that what you think?”

He shrugged again. “I don't know, Martha. I just don't know what to make of the shoe. What would your papa do if you asked him about it?”

“I don't like to think of questioning him.” She closed her eyes for an instant. “But why do I hesitate? Papa has never been unkind to me. I don't believe he ever would be.”

“Think about it.” He stood. “I've got to go help Ma, and then I am going to the medical school to work.” He walked to the door. “I'll see you later.”

At the school, he found the door unlocked. “Doc ain't here,” Lij Jenkins said. “He had to go check on his mother, her living alone and all. Number five's all locked up. He's got a stiff in there waiting. There's classes in all the other rooms.” He looked down. “The hall can stand sweeping, though.” Robby got the broom, and while he worked he thought. Finally, he faced the notion that had played about the edges of his mind since he saw the shoe: maybe the woman did not leave the house alive.

A great shudder passed over him. What if Da and Mr. Burke had killed the woman last night! He felt weak and sick. He gave himself a shake. No, he wouldn't let himself think of such a thing. Murder could not have happened in his very own home.

Students came out of room three and walked past him. They talked and joked among themselves, but Robby heard nothing. For a time he could not move, frozen with fear. Finally, he forced himself toward room three. He needed to sweep that room. He took his broom and went in.

At the front of the room, a white cloth covered a table. He lifted the edge to see what was covered. Two eyeballs and a tongue lay on a tray. Robby thought they must have only recently been removed. Once the thought might have sickened him, but now that he had begun to suspect murder in his own home, nothing small like body parts could bother him. He studied the tray's contents until Lij stuck his head into the room. “There you be,” he said. “Thought you done gone, but I couldn't find my broom.”

He walked into the room to stand by Robby. “Interesting what you find around here, ain't it.” He looked closely at Robby. “You all right, son?” He took the cloth from Robby and spread it back over the table.

At first no words would come from Robby's throat. Then he said, “I'm all right, Lij, but things may not be at my house. I've got to go home.” He reached for the broom and handed it to Lij. “I've got to go home,” he repeated. “Got to write down my time and go home. Ma will worry if I'm not there for the noontide meal.”

He did not hurry home, however. Rather he walked slowly, his mind whirling with thoughts and images. There was the shoe. Would Martha ask her father about it? When finally he did reach home, he went in through the back door.

Ma was in the kitchen. “Noon meal is over,” she told him. “Your da's been drinking already, sleeping it off. Mr. Burke is here, come in unexpected to eat. Good thing I had plenty. I saved a bowl of stew for you. There on the back of the stove.”

He shook his head. “Not now, maybe after a bit.” He wandered into the parlor and stood listening. The house was quiet. He wanted to go up to see Martha, but he felt certain her father would see or hear him. Just then, Burke appeared, coming down the stairs. “There you are, my boy. I've been waiting to talk with you.” His words were pleasant enough, but his voice and eyes were even colder than usual.

Robby swallowed hard, trying to think what he might say, but Burke gave him no chance to speak. “Be so good as to follow me outside, please,” he said, and without looking back, he opened the front door and went out.

“Don't shake,” Robby told himself. “Don't let him see you're afraid.” He went out, and Burke, standing on the stoop, pulled the door closed. Because of the broken board, there was no room for Robby on the stoop, so he stepped down and turned in Burke's direction.

“Martha found a shoe,” Burke said. “Undoubtedly she told you. I explained to her that your father and I had a couple in last night to play cards. The woman, Margaret was her name, grew quite intoxicated, and had to be helped down the stairs by her husband. Obviously her shoe fell off without their realizing it.” He cocked one eyebrow and leaned toward Robby. “Do you understand me, my boy?”

Robby nodded his head. “Yes, sir, I do.”

Burke opened his jacket, and Robby saw a leather scabbard fastened by a strap that ran over his shoulder. Burke pulled a long knife from the holder. He held it out, carefully moving one finger down the side that was not sharp. “That's good, good that you understand. Have I showed you my knife, I wonder?” He did not wait for an answer. “I always keep it razor sharp. It could slice right through a throat—for instance, your mother's.”

A gasp escaped from Robby. “Ah, I see the thought troubles you. She is a hardworking woman and a good cook.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, she is rather common, but still one should hate to see anything happen to her.” He stepped down to stand almost nose to nose with Robby. “Keeping your mother safe is simple, my boy. Stay out of my affairs. Oh, and of course, you will not mention this conversation to my daughter. Martha has had a good deal of heartbreak in her life already. I forbid you to add to her pain, and I would know, Robby. Believe me, I would know, even if she said nothing to me.” He nodded his head. “I know my daughter, know her very well, and I can read her reactions easily. Let her forget the shoe, and never mention this conversation.” Without another word, Burke put back the knife, picked up the walking stick he had leaned against the door, and strode away, whistling.

When the man was out of sight, Robby ran to the back of the house where the shed stood, door closed. He yanked it open. When he had put away the plow, he had put the sign in front of the wheelbarrow. Now the sign was behind. The wheelbarrow had been taken out the night before. Da and Burke had taken a body to the school last night. Robby remembered the laugh he had heard as he lay on his pallet. They must have killed her upstairs and sold her body to the school.

He began to shake uncontrollably. He stared at the house, the house that sheltered two men who had murdered a woman last night, a woman whose shoe he had held in his hand. And the night before! Someone had come home with them then too. Two people had undoubtedly been killed. How had they done it? Somehow he felt sure Burke had used his hands, those awful pale hands with the long fingers. He could not go back inside the house, could not face his father. Nor did he want to see Martha or Ma. What would he say to them? Should he tell them the truth? He could not even make himself go in to tell Ma he was leaving. Continuing past the house with the broken stoop, Robby walked for hours without aim, but then he made a decision. He had to go to the medical school, had to know for sure. Still he did not hurry. He moved slowly, as if half asleep.

In Northwest Square, the gallows was completely finished. It stood out against the sun. Nearby, a group of girls, totally unconcerned about the upcoming execution, jumped rope. They chanted, “Cinderella dressed in yellow went upstairs to kiss her fellow.” They laughed, and Robby watched with envy.

The tallest girl looked over her shoulder to speak to him. “Do you want a turn?”

He shook his head. “I've got to go on,” he said, and, head down, he moved away.

The door of the medical college was locked, and he pounded hard. Lij came to let him in. The hallway was dark after the bright sun, and Robby could not see the man's face. “I had to come back,” Robby said. “Had to see Dr. Bell.”

“Something you need?” Lij asked.

“I've got to ask Dr. Bell something.”

Lij pointed down the hall. “He's in the surgery. You want me to see if he can come out?”

“No,” said Robby, “I'll wait.” Lij disappeared, and Robby stayed near the door until he could see, then began to move down the hall. Rooms one, two, three, and four were empty. At the door of room five, he stood still and listened for a while. He could hear voices, but not what was being said. Robby paced up and down the hall. Maybe it was a man who was being cut up. Maybe he had gotten himself worked up over nothing. Then he would close his eyes and see Burke's hands around a neck. Finally, he could wait no longer. He took the knob, turned it, and pushed the door open slowly. A large group of young men were gathered about the table.

Robby could not see the body, nor did he spot Dr. Bell. The room was flooded with light, and filled with the smell of blood. He wanted to run, run outside and vomit, but he made himself stand still. He could feel eyes upon him, and he wished he had not come.

Dr. Bell stepped out from the group. He had a knife in his hand. “What is it, Robby? Do you need me?”

Robby could not speak, but he nodded his head. The doctor handed the knife to one of the students. “Go ahead, Farley. You may take out the heart.” Dr. Bell walked to a basin, poured water from a large steel pitcher, and washed his hands.

Next he came to Robby, put his arm around him, and led him from the room. “Something is wrong. Tell me, Robby,” he said when they were in the hall.

“Did someone bring in that body last night?”

The doctor nodded his head. “That's right.”

“I couldn't see it, not well.” Robby swallowed hard. “Is it a woman?”

“Yes.”

“My da? It was him who brought her in, wasn't it?”

With his arm still around Robby, Dr. Bell began to move. “Come to my office. I think we need to talk.” The doctor opened a door on the left side of the hall. Robby had never seen the office. A big desk made of dark wood stood in front of a large window. Bookshelves lined the walls, all of them full. There were also books stacked in corners. Three chairs sat in front of the desk, and Dr. Bell pointed to one. “Sit down, please.” The doctor walked behind the desk and took that chair. “We take a vow not to tell who brings us the bodies. It's the only way our arrangement works. Still, I am aware that you were with your father when he brought the first to me.”