“Mrs. Podgett,” Tyler said, “to be certain matters are clearly understood by the deputy, is this the man who was introduced to you by your husband as a detective?”
“Yes, certainly.” She turned to the coachman. “Is it not so, John?”
“Yes it is,” he said grimly, tapping his whip against his boots.
“You may be interested to know that Mr. Nador was aboard the ship upon which your son Andrew also served.”
“What?” she stared at Nador in shock. For a moment it seemed she would swoon. Sister Elizabeth moved to her side, as did John, to offer her support.
“I’m sure the navy has records of it, and of the investigation that could not quite prove that Mr. Nador had caused Andrew Bailey to go overboard in a storm.”
“I was cleared of that! Cleared!”
“They may reopen that case when they hear that you played a role in two other deaths in the family.”
“This is nonsense! What do you have to say to anything anyway? Who are you?”
“Dr. Tyler Hawthorne. You may not be aware that Miss Susannah Bailey passed away this evening.”
“Sorry to hear it. I always felt sorry for that poor lunatic and it was sad about her brother and her sister. But I had nothing to do with no deaths.”
“Just before she died, Miss Bailey regained the power of speech.”
“You are lying! That’s impossible.”
Sister Elizabeth spoke up. “You say you do not believe Dr. Hawthorne. Will you believe me?”
Nador swallowed hard under the piercing look she gave him. Tyler believed nuns must train for this, and that even Shade would be hard put to compete with that stare.
Shade looked up at him as he thought this.
Well, maybe not.
The dog wagged his tail.
“Of course I will, Sister,” Nador said, breaking into a sweat.
“Then heed me, Mr. Nador, before you face a greater judge than any here on earth. I am here because I cared for Miss Susannah Bailey for several years. I am here because she spoke very clearly before she passed away. I am not the only witness to this fact.”
“Thank you, Sister,” Tyler said. He turned back to Nador. “Susannah Bailey followed you into the woods near her home. She watched you uncover the shallow grave you had made for the body of her sister Amelia, and take from it a locket and ring.”
A moaning sound came from behind him, and he heard the coachman helping Mrs. Podgett to a chair.
“It wasn’t me who struck her down,” Nador said, but without the defiance he had shown earlier.
“Of course not. She was facing you, and the blow came from behind. But you saw the man who did it.”
“Podgett, of course! Podgett hit her so hard I thought I’d have to bury her beside her sister! And it was him who killed Amelia, not me! What he did- ” He glanced at Mrs. Podgett, then murmured, “I won’t say, not with her mother sitting right there before me!”
“You were in his employ?”
“He paid me to bury Amelia, all right. Paid me plenty. He paid me to pretend to look for her. He paid me to tell that story about her husband and a baby-he made all that up. If he hadn’t hit the lunatic in the woods, he would have killed her some other day-he wanted those kids out of the way. Even used his influence to allow me to sail on his son’s ship.”
“Arrest him!” Mrs. Podgett said.
“Ma’am?” the deputy said.
“Arrest my husband,” she repeated in a steely voice. “Arrest that son of a bitch this instant, or I will go home and ask John to horsewhip him-”
“Gladly,” the coachman growled.
“And then I’ll shoot my husband before he has a chance to stand trial.” She drew a deep breath. “I will wait here while you do your duty. You may also inform him that I will be obtaining a divorce. And leaving my fortune to the Providence Lunatic Asylum and my loyal servants.”
“Mr. Nador,” Tyler said, “there are those who will say that you are a murderer and committed these crimes yourself, and hoaxed Mr. Podgett into believing your story about Amelia, all for your own gain. Did you keep any proof of your dealings with him?”
“You think I did business with the likes of him without making sure he didn’t trick me into putting a noose around my neck?” He turned to the deputy. “Them things you took from my hotel room? The satchel has a false bottom. You’ll find what you might call some interesting correspondence from Mr. Podgett to me.”
The deputy told his assistant to go check Nador’s satchel. “And if it’s as this one says,” he added, “you might as well wake the sheriff and tell him about Podgett. Sheriff will have my hide if I don’t let him know about this right away.”
Shade came to stand before Nador and stared at him.
“Does he bite?” Nador asked, cringing.
“Depends,” Tyler said, hearing a small sound escape Sister Elizabeth.
“On what?”
“There are certain conditions. He seems to sense perfectly whether or not there is true repentance, for example.”
“I’m sorry! I truly am!”
“If I were to tell you,” Tyler said, “that a little bird told me you had indeed killed Andrew Bailey?”
Lightning flashed and a loud thunderclap broke overhead.
“And the young woman who died last Friday?”
Rain began to pound against the roof and walls and windows.
“Will you confess, Mr. Nador?”
Nador was looking at Shade, cocking his head to one side in a doglike, puzzled fashion.
Suddenly he smiled softly, his face changed almost as entirely as Susannah Bailey’s had a few hours before. “Yes, I will. Bring a priest to me, will you Sister Elizabeth?”
“Certainly, Mr. Nador.”
To the deputy he said, “Do you want me to write it out, or will you?”
“Come this way,” the deputy said.
AS THE CARRIAGE PULLED UP AT THE ASYLUM, THE RAIN STOPPED. The sky lightened as dawn approached.
Mrs. Podgett had a troubled look on her face. “Dr. Hawthorne? I don’t understand-”
Sister Elizabeth gently placed a hand on her arm. “Do you know, Mrs. Podgett, I, too, do not understand how I will ever thank Dr. Hawthorne or Shade. But Dr. Hawthorne looks quite exhausted just now, and I see another young man is waiting for him by his gig-perhaps another soul in need of his help. Shall we wish him a good night and good morning all at once, and be thankful the good Lord never lets a little sparrow fall without notice? That this day there is some justice for those who might never have had any, had He not sent Dr. Hawthorne and Shade among us?”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Podgett said. “Indeed, I thank you!”
“Good night, Mrs. Podgett,” Tyler said, already feeling the fever begin.
“I will keep you in my prayers,” Sister Elizabeth said.
“Thank you. Please add a few for that fellow by my gig.”
“Indeed I will, Dr. Hawthorne. Thank you again.”
COLBY, WHO WAS AMONG THOSE WHO WERE NEITHER GHOST nor human, smiled and helped Tyler step up into the gig. Shade jumped in after him. As Colby crowded in with them and took the reins, Tyler saw that this would be one of those times when Shade decided not to object to Colby’s presence.
“Rough one, old boy?” Colby asked.
“Yes.”
“We’ll travel down the canal to New York, then I’ll take you to my ship. I have a feeling Dr. Hawthorne needs to disappear from Buffalo, and probably from the state of New York, if not the United States entirely.”
“For at least a little while, that would be best, yes. Thank you,” Tyler said.
He looked up and saw a flock of small birds flying just ahead of them, toward Lake Erie.
“Will you look at that!” Colby said, following his gaze. “Mother Carey’s chickens! This far inland!”
“Perhaps there will be a storm,” Tyler said, and fell asleep just as it started to rain again.