The Grave Robber's Secret (8 page)

Robby had seen enough. He slipped to the lower branch of the tree, then dropped to the ground. Burke spent his days gambling. Robby knew he should be totally relieved. He supposed many of those same places had a back room to hide gambling, since he had never seen anyone doing it in the taverns where he had often gone to help his father get home. Gambling was probably against the law, but was it worse than robbing a grave? He would need to tell Martha, and he knew he should apologize for being suspicious, but he wasn't sure he could. Besides, what about the name on the walking stick? Martha was keeping secrets from him. Hadn't he told her about Da's cruelty and even about Lolly? Then again, Martha didn't know about the grave robbing. Maybe people were entitled to their secrets.

He took his time walking to the hospital as the thought of what he had seen swam through his mind. It was a nice morning, warmer even than the day before. Spring had definitely come to Philadelphia. On one corner an organ grinder played on his hurdy-gurdy while his monkey held a hat to collect coins. Down the street, a girl sold pretty red and white flowers. When he had earned some money at the medical school, he would buy flowers for his little sister's grave. Then a chill seemed to pass over him. He wondered if he could ever go back to that cemetery where Lolly lay and where he had climbed into graves to steal bodies. He'd best quit worrying about William Burke and his activities. If the Burkes should leave the boardinghouse, Robby would be back to the graves. He would apologize to Martha for speaking rudely to her.

He was surprised to find the thick medical school door locked. He pounded hard against the wood. An older man opened it. “Dr. Bell is expecting me,” he said. He was fairly certain that this man was not a doctor. His clothes were those of a laboring man, and he held the handle of a big broom in one hand.

“You the boy Doc said might be coming to help me some?”

Robby nodded. “I am supposed to do some work here.”

“Well, I declare! I got me a helper.” He extended his hand. “Name's Jenkins,” he said, “Jenkins, but you can call me Mr. Jenkins.”

“Yes, sir,” said Robby, and the man laughed.

“Don't know as I've ever got called ‘sir' before. Well, you go tell the doc you're here, then come back, and I'll be most happy to put you to work.”

Robby looked down the long hall. “Where would I find Dr. Bell?”

“Oh, he's doing some cutting, showing a group of the young fellows how it's done. That's why the door was locked. Always is when they cut. There's folks might come right in and put up a fuss.” He peered closely at Robby. “You've turned right white-faced. Does it bother you, the cutting, I mean?”

“I don't know,” Robby said. “It used to, but I saw Dr. Bell repair a little girl's spleen.” He bit at his lip. “He couldn't have done that, couldn't have known where the spleen was, without the bodies.”

“Well, it gets done around here. Course, they don't get that many stiffs, so when they come in, everybody gets all excited. You'll get used to it if you stay long.” He pointed down the hall. “Come on. I'll let the doc know you're here.”

Robby followed Lij Jenkins down to the fifth door. “This here is the surgery. All the cutting gets done in here,” he said, and he knocked.

“Come in,” Dr. Bell called, and Mr. Jenkins stepped inside.

A moment later, Dr. Bell came out with Mr. Jenkins. The doctor extended his hand to Robby, who glanced at it quickly before taking it. There was no blood on the hand. “I'm sorry to disturb you,” Robby said.

The doctor smiled. “It's all right. They can finish without me. Tell me, how is your patient?”

“She's stronger, been eating and drinking much better.”

“That's good. You come for me if you think I am needed. Now let's see about putting you to work. Lij will direct you. You will earn ten cents for every hour you work. Do you want your pay when you finish each day or after a few times here?”

“After a few times,” Robby said.

Dr. Bell turned to Jenkins. “Can you keep a record of the time Robby puts in?”

The man shook his head. “Ah, doc, don't you know I don't do no writing or reading?”

“Sorry, Lij. I forgot. Well, Robby, you do read and write, don't you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'll trust you to write down your hours for me. There's a big clock at the end of the hall, and there is some paper on that table near the back door. You can leave the paper on the table and write your hours on it each time.”

“I will, sir.”

“Very well, then. I'll check on my students.” The doctor returned to the surgery.

Mr. Jenkins handed Robby the broom he had leaned against the wall. “Here,” he said. “You can start by sweeping the hall and the first four rooms. Ain't no classes going on now, 'cept in the surgery. I'll get that later. Dump what you sweep into that can.” He pointed down the hall.

Robby liked sweeping the hall and imagining the student doctors who walked there each day, but it was the classrooms he enjoyed most. One had a skeleton hanging from a bar in the front of the room. Robby wanted to study it, but he was afraid Mr. Jenkins or Dr. Bell would come in and see him not working at the assigned task. While he pushed the broom, he stole glances at the bones every time he could. There were also charts in every room like the one he had seen in the surgery, and he did take time to look at one carefully. How did anyone ever know how parts inside the body looked? Of course, the charts had to be created by someone who had cut up bodies.

When he had finished the sweeping, he looked for Mr. Jenkins. At the end of the hall where he was to write down his time there was a door that led to an area enclosed by a brick wall. Mr. Jenkins was there, emptying a large bucket into a well. “Is that a water well?” Robby asked, and he walked toward the man.

A strong smell came from the bucket, one Robby couldn't identify at first. Jenkins held up his hand to stop him at a distance. “No water here, not anymore. You might not want to come no closer,” he said. “I'm getting rid of the parts—you know, the ones left after the doc's done cutting.”

Robby's stomach lurched. He knew then that the smell must be of decaying remains. He wanted to put his hand over his mouth and run, but he thought Jenkins might laugh at him. “I'm finished with the sweeping,” he said. “I wonder if there is something else that needs doing.”

“Be right with you.” Jenkins set down the bucket, and Robby could see blood on the rim. Next he picked up another bucket full of a white powdery substance. “This here is lye,” he said. “Eats up them parts so we can get more in, keeps down the smell too.”

Robby did put his hand over his mouth then, and a gag rose up in his throat. “Go on inside, son. You can have a set down in that chair by the table. I'll come see to you in a minute.”

He was glad to have a place to rest his shaky legs, and glad to learn that Lij Jenkins was a kind man. Still, Robby wondered if he would be able to continue working here. Would he ever get used to the smell of decay and the idea of dumping body parts into a well? He looked up to see Jenkins come in the door. “Washed myself up good at the outside pump,” the man said when he was near Robby. “Didn't want no smell lingering on me to give you the heaves.”

“Thank you.” Robby looked down. “I'm sorry I'm such a baby.”

Jenkins shook his head and waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Not a bit of it. You ain't no baby. Puked all over myself the first time I saw me a mess of innards. No shame in it, but I tell you, son, you work here long and you'll be proud.” He nodded his huge head. “I'm proud to sweep these floors while fellows like Doc Bell is learning them young ones all about making folks well.”

Robby liked Lij Jenkins immensely. He was a huge man, even bigger than Da, but he was gentle too. Robby liked how he used the term “son.” He could not recall Da ever calling him son. “Help me move some books from room one to room three,” Lij said, “then I reckon you'll be done for the day.”

When they had finished with the stack of books, Robby wrote down his time. The surgery door was still closed, and he could hear the sound of voices coming from inside. He wanted to go back into the first room to look at the skeleton, but decided he'd better go on home. He knew he had earned fifteen cents, and the idea pleased him.

He had not walked far when Daft Jane stepped from a doorway and stood in front of him. She was clean and smiling, but still wearing her tattered dress. “Jane,” he said, “why did you leave the Quakers? They were good to you, weren't they?”

She cocked her head to one side, thinking. She nodded then. “Yes, yes, the Quakers were good. They wanted me to stay, but I couldn't.” She looked down at her dress. “They didn't want to give me back my dress, but I wanted it. They washed it, though.”

“Oh, Jane.” Robby shook his head in sorrow. “Why couldn't you stay?”

“I have to find my baby, but don't fret—they gave me a nice warm blanket, and I've hidden it in my tree. Right near my mother and father.”

Robby could think of nothing else to say. He moved to go around her, but she was too quick for him and blocked his way.

Stepping closer, she whispered, “Be careful. They might be watching you.”

Even though Robby knew the woman was not rational, a sort of chill passed through him, and he glanced quickly over his shoulder.

“Oh, you'll not see them, but they see you.” She nodded her head. “That's for certain.”

“I must go,” he said, and he made a fast movement to get around her. “I'll have something to give you next time,” he called, but he did not look back until he reached the corner. Jane still stood in the street, staring after him.

When he went through the kitchen door, his father was sitting beside the fire, even though the day was not a cold one. “Where you been, boy?” he demanded.

Robby decided to tell him the truth—well, most of it anyway. “I've been sweeping the floor at the medical school,” he said, and he looked directly into Da's eyes. “I'll be doing that from time to time, paying for the doctor call and medicine for Miss Stone.” He looked at his father's flushed face. “I can work out care for you too, if you're sick.”

“I ain't sick, not so much anyway, just a bit bilious and dizzy. I won't have them butchers at that school touching me.”

Robby shrugged. He was surprised that his father had not forbidden his working for the doctor. Maybe he was too much under the weather to do so now. Robby drew in a deep breath. He would not let his father stop him. He liked the idea of making money, and he liked to look at the interesting things at the school, except, of course, the body parts.

After the talk with Da, he went upstairs to see Miss Stone and found her sitting in the rocking chair, knitting. “Ah, Robby, how are you?” She put out her hand to take his.

He sat down on her bed and began to tell her about his work at the medical school, about the skeleton, and about the charts on the wall. He did not tell her about what he had been doing when he first saw the chart. “Dr. Bell is going to pay me when I go there to work.” He glanced at the door. “I didn't tell Da about the money.”

She nodded. “I understand.” She pointed toward her bookshelf. “There's a book there on the bottom shelf. See the big black one? Would you get it, please?”

Robby knelt on the floor and pulled the big book from under a stack of others. “
Doctor Bodkin's Complete Guide to Home Treatment of the Human Body,
” he read from the cover. “Oh, this is interesting,” he said and he began to turn the pages. “Look,” he held up the book slightly, “there's a chart in here like the one at the school.”

“I thought you would like it. You can read all about the spleen.” She smiled down at him. “You know it would not surprise me should you decide to become a doctor.”

Robby sighed. “No, I'm pretty sure it costs a lot to go to the doctors' school, but I'm still glad to get to work there.”

She made a sort of
tsk
sound with her tongue. “Don't give up easily on something you want, Robby. That's no way to live.”

“Well, maybe.” He stood. “Is it all right if I take this with me downstairs?”

“Certainly,” she said, “and would you come back for me before supper? I've a mind to go down even if your father is there.”

Robby laid six places at the big table while his mother sliced the large meat pie she had made. There were also boiled potatoes, and Robby ate hungrily. William Burke had been smiling when he came into the house. “Things went well at business today,” he remarked as he took his place at the table. “My purse is full of money.”

Martha shot Robby a quick look, then turned her eyes down to study her plate. “It's glad I am that the day turned out well for one of us,” Roger Hare grumbled. “I'm a bit under the weather meself.”

Burke dropped his fork, pushed back his chair, and stood. “What are you doing at this table, man? I have no wish to have my Martha around a sick person. In fact, I've no wish to be near you myself.”

Robby expected his father to lash back at the man, but without a word Da rose, collected his plate, and went into his bedchamber. Robby's cheeks burned with embarrassment for his father.

Miss Stone looked at William Burke. “I've never seen the man so subdued,” she said. “What power have you over him?”

“I am sure I don't know your meaning.” Burke's voice was haughty. “I demand what is right, as one who pays dearly for our two rooms in this establishment.”

Robby looked at his mother. “Anyone for more hot bread?” she asked.

The rest of the meal passed with few comments. Robby avoided looking at Martha, but after he helped his mother clean the kitchen, he climbed the stairs. He had heard her father go out the front door, doubtless back to his gambling. He needed to tell the girl he had been wrong about her father's work. Her door was open, but he knocked on the frame.