"Take 'em off, take 'em off, ree-move 'em," sang Jerry Toplady.
Chief Flower ignored Harvey Finn. He crossed the room in his rubbers and sat down at the table beside Philip Goss. He put his chin in his small hand and looked at Philip. Philip's face was highly colored. He leaned back in his chair unsteadily, and looked back at Chief Flower.
"Where is your father, Philip?" said Chief Flower.
"My father?" said Philip, seeming to think it over. He turned his head around jerkily. "He wazh here a while 'go."
"He went out, that's right, a while ago, 'n 'e didn' even come back, I guess." Jerry Toplady nodded and nodded. "See? He didn't even eat his dinner."
"What time did he go out?"
"Jeez," said Jerry proudly. "I couldn' even see the clock. I was unner the table half 'n hour awready."
Chief Flower turned back to Philip. "Your father is dead, Philip. He was killed by someone with a musket ball at the North Bridge a little while ago. A witness saw a man dressed like Sam Prescott riding away on horseback immediately after the shot was fired."
Philip Goss lost all his high color abruptly. He stood up suddenly and stooped over and started to run his hand over his mouth. Chief Flower started up out of his chair, then sat down again. Philip was going to the bathroom to be sick. After a while he came back and leaned weakly against the wall, looking very white indeed. The members of the Battery looked at one another in shocked silence.
"I don't know what you want with me," said Philip coldly. "I know nothing about it. Nor will I answer any questions until I can discuss the matter with George."
"George?" said Jimmy. "George who?"
"George Jarvis. My law partner."
*21*
When everything that ticked—has stopped— And Space stares all around— —Emily Dickinson
A bird in the lilac bushes beside the Gosses' front door creaked like a guilty bedspring. Mary hesitated, then rang the bell. She had to find out what was going on. She wasn't prying, was she? She wanted desperately to help.
Edith came to the door, her hair wild. She put out her hand and grasped Mary's arm. "Come in. I thought you were the doctor for mother. She's in such a dreadful state. Nobody can make anything of it. She doesn't make sense. Oh, isn't it dreadful? How could Charley? Poor Daddy! They're questioning us, Chief Flower and Homer Kelly. Rowena and Mother are in there now. It's my turn next. But I don't know anything. I don't know anything at all. I was out walking around Annursnac Hill, at the time."
"It must be awful for all of you. I'm sorry. Did you say Kelly, Homer Kelly?"
"Yes, you know he's a Lieutenant-Detective for Middlesex County from the District Attorney's office. Didn't you know? Writing books on Emerson is just his hobby, or something."
Mary didn't know. She was thunderstruck. "Where's Charley?"
"They're holding him for questioning at the Police Station. Do you think they'll put him in jail? They've got Philip there, too. But they say it was Charley that did it. Oh, isn't it dreadful? How could he have been so foolish? Always so much wilder than Philip. Oh, dear."
Mary looked at Edith, feeling a little dizzy. She had the odd suspicion that Edith was enjoying herself. Her eyes were big and woeful, her voice almost gleeful. Like those people who read headlines aloud with gloating melancholy: FATHER KILLS SELF, FIVE CHILDREN.
The door opened and Rowena came out. Homer Kelly held the door open, his hand on the knob. He saw Mary.
She blurted it out. "I-I didn't know you were a policeman."
Homer looked tired. He turned away and looked at nothing. "Even Apollo had to plow for King Admetus," he said. His voice was dry.
He meant, like Bronson Alcott. Jimmy Flower came out, rubbing his hand across his bald head. Invisible inside the room beyond, there was a woman laughing. It was a peculiar, babbling laugh. Rowena looked up at Homer. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" She was wearing black already. No lipstick. Just mascara. Lovely and tragic. Her father was dead, her brother under suspicion, her mother collapsed or something—but Rowena the actress was playing a part, just as Edith was in her clumsier way. Mary asked after Charley.
"He's confessed," said Homer shortly.
Confessed. Oh, oh, no. Mary put out an unbelieving hand. Her eyes filled with tears. She turned her back on them, pushed open the front door and stumbled out. The door closed after her, and she started home, her knuckles in her mouth, thinking wretched thoughts.
*22*
Let us settle ourselves, and work and wedge our feet downward through the mud and slush of opinion ... till we come to a hard bottom and rocks in place, which we can call reality ... a place where you might found a wall or a state. —Henry Thoreau
Jimmy Flower had dragged another desk into his office for Homer Kelly. But Homer wasn't using it, he was leaning against the wall. Jimmy sat on his swivel chair, screwed high up with his feet off the floor. Philip Goss and his law partner, George Jarvis, sat in the two hard-backed chairs. Harold Vine took notes.
Philip answered most of the questions himself, calmly, in his clear voice, progressing in polished sentences from subject to predicate, adorning them with dependent clauses and participles that never dangled. Now and then there was a gentle demur from George Jarvis, uttered in the politest tone, with an air of such extreme courtesy that one hardly knew that a question was being parried and set aside. There was an atmosphere of extreme fair play.
No, Philip had not seen his father leave the Rod and Gun Club. Yes, it was true that he himself had left for an interval. No, he wasn't sure of the time, nor how long he had been out. He had felt the need of fresh air to clear his head. Jerry Toplady had mixed the drinks with a heavy hand and Philip h never been able to live up to the Battery's mighty reputation for stowing it away. Where had he gone? To Nicholson's Barn, by the old sawmill there. No, he didn't think anyone had seen him, he had kept away from the road.
Jimmy asked him point-blank if there had been time for him to have walked home, changed clothes, ridden Dolly to the bridge, shot his father, ridden back home, changed clothes again and come back to the Rod and Gun Club?
Philip frowned and hesitated. George Jarvis broke in softly. How long did Chief Flower think all those things would take? Chief Flower thought it would be hard to squeeze 'em all in under an hour.
Perhaps, George Jarvis thought, it would be preferable if Chief Flower simply asked Philip whether or not he had been away for an hour.
Philip could not seem to remember. He thought not. Well, then again, maybe he had been.
Homer Kelly sat down on the edge of Jimmy's desk and folded his arms. "Philip, can you tell us what went wrong this morning when the Battery was firing the Sunrise Salute? You made some sort of mistake?"
"I was tired. It was the sheerest stupidity. I gave the order to fire when my father was still standing in front of the gun with his ramrod down inside the barrel. If the lanyard man had pulled the string in response to my order my father would have been killed."