The Grave Robber's Secret (12 page)

“I was,” Robby said, almost in a whisper.

“I remember. I knew you were an unusually bright boy even then, and I knew you hated what your father was doing.”

Robby nodded. “I did.”

“It is a despicable thing, digging up a body after a brokenhearted family has buried it.” The doctor leaned back in his chair. “I understand why it troubles you to have your father involved in such work. I wish there were another way to get bodies, but there isn't. Think about this, Robby. Lives will be saved because of what those students are learning today from the body brought in last night, lives like little Dolly, who will be strong enough to leave the hospital soon.”

Robby bit at his lip. He wanted to tell the doctor that his father had murdered the woman, but he knew he couldn't. They would come and take Da away and Mr. Burke with him. Martha would be heartbroken, and Ma. He could never forgive himself if Burke hurt his mother.

The doctor pointed at one of the two portraits that hung on the wall behind Robby's chair. “That's Benjamin Franklin,” he said. “You know who he was, don't you?”

Robby turned in his seat to see. “I've read about him, and I've many times seen the statue. I've seen his grave too.”

“Well, Franklin and the other man, Dr. Thomas Bond, founded this hospital and later this school. We had the first hospital in America and the first medical school, right here in Philadelphia. That was almost one hundred years ago, Robby, but we have so much more to learn about what is inside human beings, so much more. We cut people up in an effort to save lives.”

Robby wanted to stand up. He had to get away from Dr. Bell before the truth came pouring from him. He was not certain he could get up, but he did. “I need to go home now.” He started toward the door, but turned back when the doctor spoke.

“Did you know this woman, Robby?” The doctor's eyes were kind.

Tears came up from inside him, but he held them back. “Just a little bit,” he said. “She had a nice laugh.” He went out then and hurried to leave the building.

There was nothing to do now but go home. Ma would need him to carry in the bucket of coal from the wagon that drove down the street just before supper. Girls still jumped rope in the square. Robby wondered if they had been at the jumping since he had come earlier, but he did not say anything. The tallest girl smiled at him, but this time she did not ask him to join. Their chant was different now. “Benjamin Franklin went to France to teach the ladies how to dance. First the heel, and then the toe, spin around and out you go.”

Robby thought that every child of any age in Philadelphia knew who Benjamin Franklin was, but they probably didn't know that he started the first hospital in America, and they probably did not have fathers who murdered people to sell to the school in that hospital.

At home he found Da in the kitchen. He sat at the table, a large bottle of liquor in front of him. There was no glass, and as Robby watched, Da tipped up the bottle for a big gulp. “Come sit down, me boy,” he said when he finished, and he pointed to the bench beside him.

“I don't want to sit down, Da.”

His father bowed his huge head. “Oh, I'd not blame you for that, Robby, not one little bit. I've done things I can't speak of, terrible things. Things that will send me to hell for certain, but I can't confess to a priest.”

Robby's mother came in then. She carried a bucket of coal, and Robby rushed to take it from her. “I'm sorry, Ma,” he said. “I should have been here to do that for you.”

“A body might think the man of the house could do such.” She used her head to point toward Roger. “ 'Course that one couldn't get his own self in from the coal wagon, let alone carry a bucket.”

Robby put the coal into the great stove, then turned to his mother without even trying to keep Da from hearing his words. “Let's leave him. Let's get out of this miserable house.”

“Go on.” Da waved his hand toward the door. “I'd feel better, feel better about the both of you, was you to leave. You'd be safe then.”

“Safe? Safe from what?” Ma demanded, but Da had collapsed facedown on the table. “Come help me, Robby, we got to get him to his bed.”

Robby bent to put one of Da's arms around his shoulder, and Ma took the other arm.

“Wake up, Roger,” Ma urged, but Da kept his eyes closed. They stumbled into his bedchamber. As soon as his father was deposited on the bed, Robby escaped out the back door.

For several hours, Robby worked in the backyard, taking a hoe and tracing the rows he had plowed. It was a totally unnecessary job, but it gave him something to do, some reason to be out of the house. He wanted to leave, but he was afraid that Burke, when he came home for supper, would think his absence a sign that he had gone to the police. He would have to eat with the man, have to sit at that table and act normally.

At dusk, Robby went inside. The evening meal was almost ready, his mother pulling a pan of baked cod from the oven. “Is Mr. Burke here?” he asked.

“He is.” Ma set the pan on top of the stove and began to fill plates. “Run up and tell them supper is ready.” But before he could move to the swinging door, Burke and Martha came in.

“Something smells delicious,” Burke said, and he smiled. “We are starved, aren't we, darling?”

“Yes,” said Martha. “I should say so.”

Robby searched her face and was amazed to see no sign of distress. She believed what her father had told her about the shoe. If Robby told her the truth, she wouldn't be able to hide that knowledge from her father. A picture of Burke's knife flashed through his mind. He took his place on the bench.

“Where is our Mr. Hare?” Burke asked. “He will be eating with us, will he not?”

“Roger don't feel so good,” said Ma. “I'm afraid he's had way too much of the drink.”

Burke made a
tsk
sound. “What a pity. Strong drink can become such a vulgar, unsightly habit. 'Tis why I never touch it.”

“I'm going out,” Robby said to Ma when he was finished. “I won't be back till bedtime. Don't worry about me.” He hurried to the back door, but his mother followed him outside.

“Not coming back till bedtime? For mercy's sake, Robby, what will you be doing all that time?”

Robby shrugged his shoulders. “Don't know. Likely mostly walking. I'm too restless to sit about.”

His mother reached out to lay her hand on his cheek. “Ah, Robby, you're such a good boy, and me with no way to make your life better.” He gave her a quick hug and moved down the alley.

For a long time, he walked tree-lined streets and listened to the peeping chorus of tree frogs. It was a friendly sound, and he wished he could crawl up into a tree and become part of it. Folks called Philadelphia the city of brotherly love because William Penn, who founded Pennsylvania, was a Quaker and wanted religious freedom for everyone. He walked with head down, feeling no love except maybe in the call of the frogs.

On Locust Street, he stood for a time and watched ladies and gentleman going into the opera house. A big sign read
WAGNER'S
THE FLYING DUTCHMAN
.
One lady in a soft blue dress stopped and looked at Robby. She reached into her small handbag and took out several coins. “Here, child,” she said, and she extended her gloved hand toward Robby. “Take these, and God bless you.”

Robby stepped backward. “No, thank you, ma'am,” he said softly. “I'm not a beggar.” He whirled about and ran. When his legs grew tired, he headed home, glad to be exhausted. Surely he could sleep tonight. Tomorrow he would think. He would think until he had decided what to do about Da and Burke.

Ma sat dozing in the kitchen rocking chair, and he touched her arm. “You shouldn't have stayed up, waiting for me,” he told her. “Is Da asleep?”

“Out with Mr. Burke.” She yawned. “I'm going to bed. Good night, my Robby.”

“Don't think about Da and Burke,” he told himself. He spread his pallet and fell into blessed sleep. In the wee hours of morning, he woke when Martha's cold hand covered his mouth. “Ssssh,” she whispered. “I've got to talk to you, but I'm afraid someone will hear us.”

Robby sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Are they back yet? Our fathers, I mean.”

“They're back and in their beds.”

Robby looked quickly toward the door to his parents' bedchamber. Enough moonlight came in through the window to allow him to see that it was closed. Still, they must be very quiet. There was nowhere else to talk. In the parlor or up in Martha's room, Burke might overhear them. It was safer to take the risk of Da's hearing. He rose, took Martha's hand, and led her to the far corner. “We've still got to whisper,” he told her.

“I've been thinking about what you said, you know, about being afraid our fathers were doing something worse than gambling. When Papa came into my room tonight to say good night, I got this awful feeling, and I decided I wanted to know the truth. I didn't go to sleep. At first I sat up and read, but it was hard to concentrate on a story. Finally I just turned out the light and got in bed to wait, listening for them to come in the front door.”

She drew in a deep breath and squeezed Robby's hand. “I could tell someone was with them on the stairs. After they went into Miss Stone's room and closed the door, I tiptoed across the hall to see what I could hear. Sure enough, they had a man with them.”

“What were they doing?” Robby had begun to shake; not wanting her to know, he turned Martha's hand loose.

“For a long time they played cards and drank, our fathers urging drink on the other man, called Lewis. I was just about to give up and go to bed, when finally your father says, ‘It's late, my friends. Lewis, why don't you just stretch out on that bed and get yourself a bit of sleep?'

“I hurried back to my room then, but I peeked through a crack in my door. The room got totally dark, and our fathers came out, but they didn't go very far. Your father just stayed in the hall. Papa went to his room, and came back with a white pillow that I could see in the dark. They waited for a while, listening, and then they went back inside. I was scared, almost to death. I wanted to run and get you, but I was afraid they would come out and catch us.”

“What happened next?”

Martha bowed her head, and for a minute she said nothing. “Martha,” Robby said again, “what happened?”

“I crept back to the door to listen. At first, I couldn't hear anything. Then there was a good deal of noise, like someone thrashing about. Then I heard my papa say to your father, ‘Hare, get yourself over here to hold him down.' I got too scared then and ran back to my room. I heard them leave, just the two of them, not the man named Lewis. As soon as I was sure they were asleep, I slipped down here to tell you.” She started to cry. “What do you think happened, Robby?” she asked between sobs.

He sucked in his breath. “Martha, you know what happened. It's awful, but we've got to face the truth. Our fathers killed a man tonight.”

“Oh, Robby, I think the same thing.” She reached for his hands. “I hate to think it, but I am afraid Papa must have put that pillow over his face. Oh, Robby, my papa must have killed a man with the same pillow he's sleeping on this very minute.”

“Did you hear anything else?”

Martha tried to stop crying, but she couldn't. “I heard Papa say they'd have to leave him a couple of days, something about the doctors getting suspicious if they take another one in so fresh. I couldn't just lie there by myself. I had to come tell you. What do you think they meant, you know, about being too fresh?”

For a second or two no one spoke. Martha reached out to touch Robby's shoulder. “Robby, what did they mean?”

“Your papa said they couldn't take another fresh body to the school. That's because they killed the woman who wore that slipper and sold her last night.” He drew in another deep breath. “And there was a man before that. I'm pretty sure they killed him too. I think they must bring home people who are all alone, you know, street people who don't have anyone to look for them.” He paused for a minute, then went on. “Your papa threatened me with his knife earlier today, showed me the blade, and said he would slice Ma's throat if I meddled in his business.”

Martha gasped. “What are we going to do?”

“We have to go to the police,” he said.

“But they will hang them. They'll hang our fathers, Robby.” She covered her face with her hands. “No, please don't go to the police.”

“We can't let them keep bringing home people to murder. We just can't.”

Martha sniffed back a sob. “I know. I know, but they won't bring home another one soon, not with Lewis on the bed. Maybe we can think of some other way to stop them. Will you wait, just a little while, please?”

“Martha, listen to me. We cannot wait long, and if your papa has any reason to think you know, he will kill Ma and me.”

“I won't let on, but promise you won't go to the police tomorrow.”

“All right,” he said. She went back upstairs, and he lay in the dark, thinking, until daylight came into the house with the broken step. The next morning he told his mother, even though he had not planned to do so.

“Get up, Robby,” she said when she came into the kitchen. “No wonder you're tired. Seems like nobody in this house was sleeping last night. Noises kept waking me up.”

“Burke and Da killed a man last night. Killed him in this house and his body is upstairs in Miss Stone's room.”

His mother gasped, and for a long time she held her breath. Robby's eyes went from his mother to his father, who had just come from his bedchamber.

Ma saw Da too, and she whirled toward him. Her face turned white, and she grasped the edge of the table as if she thought she might fall. “Is it true, Roger?” she asked. Da said nothing, but he dropped into his chair, his face in his hands. “Roger.” Ma's voice was louder this time. “Answer me. I mean to know the truth.”