The Grave Robber's Secret (13 page)

Da put his finger to his lips. “Ssssh, don't let Burke hear you,” he whispered. “It's him that is the killer, and he'd kill any one of us just that quick.”

Ma sank to the bench. “Roger Hare, you'll hang same as him, and that's a fact.”

Da put his finger to his lips again. “Not if you two keep quiet. The man's planning to leave Philly soon. We've got to keep quiet till he's out of this house.” He put his hands out flat on the table and studied them for a minute before he spoke again. “Them three we did wouldn't have lived long anyway. Surviving on the street the way they did, bound to be ate up with disease.” He stood. “Get yourself together, both of you, and put breakfast on to cook.”

CHAPTER TEN

S
omehow they got through the morning meal. Ma even talked to Mr. Burke about the weather. “Awful cloudy outside this morning,” she said. “I expect we'll have a rain before the day's over.”

Burke stood. “I'd best get to my business before it starts, then.” He leaned to kiss Martha on the head. “Why not take a nap, darling? You look tired. Not sick, are you?”

It surprised Robby that Martha could smile at her father, but she did, smiled up at him sweetly. “Maybe a bit of a cold. I believe I will go back to bed.” She stood too.

Da waited until the Burkes were gone, and then he too left the table. “Mum's the word,” he said. “They'll be gone soon, and we can go back to living decent.”

The rain started before Robby and Ma had the kitchen cleaned. Robby opened the back door and stood staring out. “Don't think about anything bad,” Ma whispered to him, and then she took the last plate from the table. “Just don't let yourself think, son.” Robby saw that her hands shook so that it was hard for her to hold the dish. “Promise me you won't say nothing?” Tears filled her eyes.

For a long moment Robby could not speak. “Robby?” His mother set the plate she held back down on the table. “Robby, promise me.”

He closed his eyes. “I promise, Ma,” he said. “At least for now.”

Ma stepped around him to pull the door closed. “Too much dampness in your lungs is likely to make you sick.”

“I am sick already, Ma,” he said, “sick nearly to death.” He went to the parlor and from there into the hall, where he stood staring up at the stairs. Why did he want to go up there? Surely not to see the dead body.

It was as if something pulled him. By the time he had reached the landing, he had broken out in a sweat. From the top of the stairs, he saw a big iron padlock. Burke had made certain that the door would not be opened. There were two chains also, one nailed to the door and one to the door frame, with the lock between them. Robby let out a long breath, relieved that he could not go inside. Still, a thought came to his mind.

When it had stopped raining, he went outside onto the new, wet grass. Looking up, he could see the window to Miss Stone's room. “Don't think about it,” he told himself aloud. “You can't get up there.” Even so, he walked to the tree that grew beside the house.

He could climb that tree. He
had
climbed that tree, summer before last. He was taller now. From the tree he could reach a ledge that ran along at the top of the first story. From that ledge, he could pull himself up to the open window of Miss Stone's room.

“But why?” Again he spoke aloud, but even before the last word was out of his mouth he was climbing, climbing fast. He did not slow down until he pulled himself up by the window ledge. Then he froze. A man lay dead on the bed directly in front of the open window. Robby could have reached out his hand to touch his face, but, of course, he did not. The head was turned in his direction, and the mouth gaped wide, showing rotten teeth, and the eyes, his terrible open eyes, stared out at Robby. He began to tremble, and he feared he might fall.

Lowering himself slowly, he searched with his foot for the ledge. It seemed a long time before he found it. Next he grasped the tree, his arms wrapped around the large branch. Now he slid quickly, unaware that the bark bit at his skin, tearing his shirt and making him bleed.

When his feet touched the ground, he sank down and sat hunched over, his arms hugging his raised knees. Still breathing heavily, he rested for only a moment. Then he got up and began to run. Maybe he would run away, and never look back. After a few blocks, though, he slowed. Where could he go? Besides, there was Martha and Ma to consider. There was always Ma.

It surprised him to see that he stood in front of St. Mary's Church. Maybe he could go inside to sit still and think. Candles burned in the dark church, and Robby's heart stopped racing as soon as he stepped inside. He stood for a moment, drawing in the smell of the candles and of the polish used on the altar. He slipped, then, into a pew at the back, leaned on the seat in front, and rested his head against his arms there.

It was only a few minutes before a voice said, “May I help you, my son?” Robby looked up to see Father Francis. “Robby? Is that you, Robby Hare? We've not seen any of your family at St. Mary's for a long time.”

Robby nodded, but he said nothing. “Is something troubling you, Robby?”

He wanted to tell everything. Weren't priests bound to keep your secrets? He bit at his lip, maybe not when those secrets involved murder.

He drew in a big breath. “Father Francis,” he said. “Does a person always have to keep a promise?”

“When we give our word, we should honor that promise.”

“Even if people might get hurt?”

“Well,” said the priest, “we cannot allow someone to harm others just because of a promise. Do you want to tell me what troubles you?”

Suddenly Robby was afraid. What if Father Francis got concerned about him? What if the priest came to the house with the broken stoop to ask questions? Burke wouldn't hesitate to kill a priest. Robby was certain of that. His mind raced. “A boy I know, his name is William. He made me promise not to tell that he's been stealing his father's liquor.”

It was too dark to be sure, but Robby thought the priest smiled. “Likely William's parents will discover what the boy is up to. I'd say let those in charge of the boy deal with him.”

Robby nodded his head. “Thank you, Father. I feel better.” He stood up.

“Tell your mother and father I asked about them.”

“I will,” he said, and he left the church. He would go home and wait. Father Francis had said to let those in charge handle the problem. Robby would wait for just a time, but he would not, he promised himself, let another person die.

Da stayed drunk most of the next two days, not appearing for meals. Mr. Burke still dressed himself up every day, leaving right after breakfast with a kiss for Martha. “I'm off to business,” he would say. Robby supposed his father had not proven very good at cheating at cards, because Da was never invited again to join Mr. Burke.

Somehow Robby got through the days. He read with Martha, helped his mother in the kitchen, even ate at the table with William Burke, and worked extra hours at the medical school. All the time, his mind felt frozen and his body seemed to move through a great fog.

In addition to sweeping out the classrooms, he began carrying out buckets of body parts to dump in the well. The work no longer made him sick to his stomach. Numbness made him unable to feel anything.

He managed to stay away from Dr. Bell, afraid the doctor might see something in his eyes, might guess his torment. Robby knew if he talked long to the kind man, he would blurt out the truth.

Lij Jenkins saw a change in him. “Something eating at you, Robby?” he asked one day.

“I can't talk about it, Lij,” he said. “I got problems at home. My da's an awful drunk.”

“Does he hurt you?” The anger in Lij's voice touched Robby.

“He used to, but not anymore.” It was true. Da had not hit him or Ma now for a long time. Robby would give anything to go back to those old days when all he had to worry about was Da's slaps.

“If ever you want to get away, you come here. You hear me? I know where there's an extra cot we can put in my room.”

“Thank you, Lij.” Robby moved on down the hall.

During the night, he planned, lying awake for long hours. Sometimes he told himself he would go to the police in the morning. At other times he would plan to kill William Burke. He could take the hatchet from the shed, creep upstairs, and smash the man's head in. Could he really do that? If he did, would he be hanged for the crime?

On the second night, he heard the two men carry down the body. Lewis, whose terrible face came over and over to Robby's mind, was about to make his last journey, a journey that would end at the medical school. Robby decided he would go to the police in the morning, and he did, leaving before anyone was awake.

He knew his way about town, and it was not a long trip to Chestnut Street, where City Hall, a two-story building made of red brick, seemed small between its two neighbors, the Philadelphia County Courthouse and Independence Hall. Robby knew the police station was on the first floor of City Hall. He walked to the door, pulled it open, and turned to run. What if William Burke had become suspicious when Robby failed to show up for breakfast? What would his mother say if Burke questioned her? At this very moment Burke could have his terrible knife at Ma's throat.

When he burst through the back door, Ma, Burke, and Martha sat at the table eating porridge. “Oh, there you are, Robby. Did you decide not to go to work so early after all?” Ma asked.

He smiled. “Got too hungry,” he said, and he went to the stove to fill a bowl for himself. He told himself he would go back to City Hall as soon as Burke had left the house, but then Da came out of his bedchamber and sat at the table drinking tea. When had his father turned into a sick old man? Da's shoulders stooped. His big head lolled from one side to the other as if he didn't have the strength to hold it straight.

Robby remembered the gallows. Could he really go to the police about his father, knowing Da would be hanged? Maybe he could wait. Maybe something would happen to stop the men, something for which Robby would not be responsible.

It was a question from William Burke that sent him into action. They were at the evening meal. Da had not been drinking all day, and he appeared for supper. Mr. Burke had just passed the fried potatoes to Robby. “Martha,” he said, “do you remember telling me about a poor unfortunate young woman who sleeps in the cemetery? I believe you called her Daft Jane?”

Robby stopped with his fork halfway to his lips. Were Burke and Da going after Jane? She certainly had no one who would miss her. Robby, his heart pounding, caught Martha's eye, and she understood. “I do remember, Papa, but I don't know if I told you that Jane has left Philadelphia.”

“Evidently, she did not stay away long,” Burke said. “I saw her just earlier today, heard her called by that name.”

A hope came to Robby's mind. “Yes, I guess every person in Philadelphia could recognize Jane. She comes to the medical school often for handouts. All the students and doctors know Jane.”

William Burke said nothing, but Robby could feel those evil dark eyes cutting through him, and he could eat nothing more. “I forgot, I've promised Dr. Bell I'd come back after supper. He needs me to help.”

“But you've hardly touched a bite of food,” said Ma.

“Likely I'll eat at the school.” Robby stood, and, resisting the urge to run, walked quickly through the swinging kitchen door and out the front of the house. Once outside, he let himself break into a run. He'd check the cemetery first, and if Jane wasn't there, he would walk down every street in Philadelphia if he had to.

He did not find her among the headstones, but when he moved the branches of the willow tree he did see her blanket. She had not settled for the night. Where would she likely be? He had to make sure he found her before Burke and Da did. What would he do with her after he found her? He couldn't keep her safe for long, but he wouldn't think about that now.

The best places to look, he decided, were alleys with back doors of taverns and inns, places were she might beg for food. He began to run again. Alley after alley he saw no one but a man who had consumed too much liquor being sick to his stomach.

Finally he saw a woman who, from a distance in the darkness, looked like Jane, but when he ran to her, he could see that she was much older. She was a beggar woman, though. “Do you know Daft Jane?” he asked her.

The woman nodded her head. She muttered something, but Robby could not hear her. “I'm sorry.” He leaned close. “What did you say?”

“She was here, not long ago. Got her a nice bit of food when the kitchen girl come out. She was leaving when I come, and she told me the girl might feed me next.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“The cemetery, likely. She sleeps in that willow tree, lots of room, but don't go thinking you'll get in. She screams if anyone else tries to slide inside.”

Robby wished he had something to give the woman, but all he could do was call out “Thank you” as he ran. Maybe what he had said about everyone knowing Jane had made Burke change his mind, but he couldn't count on that to be true. He was out of the alley now and running hard. When he rounded the corner of a building, a lady in a shiny dress and a gentleman in a big top hat were directly in front of him. He swerved, but still he brushed against the man. “Excuse me,” he shouted, but he did not slow down.

“Little ruffian,” yelled the man. “I ought to catch you and teach you some manners.”

A block from the graveyard, he collapsed on the steps of a huge stone house, hoping no one would come out to drive him away before he could get his breath. The moon was big and golden, lighting the street and buildings. Robby had no time to appreciate it, and he was up as soon as his breath came back to him. At last, he saw the great iron gate. It was open. He had closed it behind him. Would Jane have left it open?