A Mischief in the Snow (21 page)

“Many of us do exchange spoon molds,” Charlotte admitted. “I, too, have been taught to re-cast damaged items…”

“I'm willing to wager,” said Longfellow, off again on his own path, “that each man who is a part of this scheme has agreed to spend no more than one or two at a time. Given that, who knows how long it may have gone undetected?”

“What puzzles me,” said the captain, “is why they've chosen
shillings
to copy. The profit must be next to nothing. Far more sensible to forge large notes, or to work with gold, as most moneymakers do.”

“Yes, but gold is relatively rare here, especially in ordinary households. Silver is more common—yet we see less and less of it. And now that your Currency Act has forbidden the further issuance of paper money in the colonies—”

“Because of the criminal inflation you've caused! We hear complaints daily, though you're not the only ones to suffer. On the frontier even wampum has been cheapened, for now a New Jersey enterprise has found it can bore stringing holes with steel drills.
Silver
, Richard, is a far better system than shells, or paper. One day you may find yourselves pleased that we've insisted you stick to it.”

“But how can we, when most that comes from England is hoarded, or goes back to pay for goods your merchants are so happy to send us? Yet you insist we find it somewhere, to pay our taxes!”

Charlotte sighed, for she had heard all of this before. It was part of a larger argument beloved by the village, one concerned with the new stamps, colonial representation in Parliament (or the lack of it, actually), the increasing power of King George, and the strained tempers of lesser men a great deal closer than he. She wondered how often Diana had been plagued by much the same thing in Boston, though perhaps from the opposite side.

“The scheme we've uncovered here, Edmund,” his brother-in-law countered, “could be one of a hundred operating quietly. Don't forget that among desperate men, a little extra may count for much.”

“Desperate?” the captain responded with a bitter laugh. “I don't doubt most involved in this scheme are chuckling up their sleeves like intolerable children! But Richard, have your own finances been greatly affected by this latest downturn?” he asked with new concern.

“I won't throw myself on your charity just yet. My sister should be left something, in the event….”

“In what have you placed your faith?”

“I wondered, Edmund, when you would finally ask. I am well invested in the London funds, a Dutch cloth firm in the lowlands, some small weaving concerns in Scotland, and the Dutch West India Company. All far better, I think, than my father's trust in the Triangle Trade, which still leaves much misery behind.”

“Then you, too, have the interests of London's merchants at heart.”

“In mind, let us say. At heart, my sympathies are with those who would tweak Parliamentary probosces—as well as the noses of certain provincial officials. In this, I'm hardly alone.”

“A good many in these colonies might pay for such a privilege, if it were offered.”

“A new source of revenue, Edmund, in place of the stamps? But this spoon.” Longfellow turned suddenly back to Charlotte. “You say you found it on the island. Was it dropped by Alex Godwin? If
he
was involved in this affair as well—and I've heard he meant to bring me some sort of information on the day of his death—do you imagine his plan was to expose this moneymaking ring?

“That, I can't say.”

“Lem said nothing more to you of what their argument was about?”

“I haven't had a chance to speak to him since Alex Godwin was found.”

“But you suspect something there, I think.”

“That would be hard to say.”

“Yet you're sure he said nothing about the scheme earlier.”

“No one did! In fact, I supposed
you
knew, but wouldn't tell
me
.”

“While I suspected the same.” They continued to examine one another silently, until Captain Montagu began anew.

“What I wish to know, Mrs. Willett, is this. Do you suspect anyone else of having ties to this business? You've known these people far longer than your neighbor, after all.”

“I—” She stopped, unwilling to speculate further. Could she accuse John Dudley of anything with certainty? Or with safety? Lem and Ned might have discussed any number of other things while chatting beside a fire. And while it was true Jonah Bigelow knew something about metals, surely
that
was not enough to prove he'd been involved in any business as serious as counterfeiting?

“There's little I know for certain, Edmund,” she replied. “But I do suspect these shillings came from Boar Island.

And I'm not entirely sure our constable should be in charge of looking into the matter.”

“I wonder if he isn't the ringleader,” said Longfellow. “He lives there on the north road, not far from the island. I think we should look into who may have been ‘assisting’ the law, too, in the last several months.”

“John Dudley,” said Moses Reed, whom they turned to see standing just inside the room, “is someone whose word I'd prefer not to count on, even under oath. I agree that you'd be doing the village a service by helping him to accomplish his job.”

“Which reminds me,” said Longfellow, “there is another interesting thing that Mr. Reed told us last night, which neither of you has yet had a chance to consider.”

“Before you begin,” the attorney broke in, “may I ask, Mrs. Willett, how Magdalene Knowles does this morning?”

Charlotte then recalled that Reed, too, had heard the terrible accusation made by Catherine Knowles, of which Richard and Edmund might yet be unaware.

“Did she come with you this morning?” he asked further.

“No—I left her sleeping.”

“Alone?” asked Reed, his expression an uneasy one.

“Perhaps I should go back,” she replied, beginning to doubt the wisdom of her earlier decision.

“Is there an objection to my going to her myself? We might speak quietly there, and then I'll bring the lady back to this house for the rest of the morning. After her rest she may enjoy some companionship.”

“A fine idea,” said Longfellow. “We'll soon have breakfast. Please tell her she would be most welcome.”

“That I'll gladly do,” said Reed, bowing as he moved backwards through the door.

“But now, Carlotta, for the rest,” said Longfellow, his hazel eyes more intent than ever. “This time, I think you'll find what I have to tell you quite unexpected.”

Whether that would be a good thing or not Charlotte tried to imagine, as Richard Longfellow began.

L
AST NIGHT,” SAID
Longfellow, “while you were with Magdalene Knowles, and Edmund was finding his way to us through the snow, Reed told us something about a will. He is, or was, Catherine Knowles's attorney.”

“Ah!” said Charlotte, while Captain Montagu maintained a watchful silence.

“Catherine made her first will, it seems, little more than a year ago. Recently, however, she sent him another.”

“Then—who is her heir?”

“Reed won't yet tell us. But I've heard Alex Godwin claimed he would receive more than wages, one day, for his care of the two women.”

“Yes, I've heard that myself. But then, you don't suppose whoever killed him could have been angry simply because he might have come into a fortune?”

“Men being the covetous creatures that they are, it's possible. But I'm curious to learn the name of the
previous
heir, if we assume Godwin was the latter.”

“When will we know that?”

“Soon, is all Reed will say. It seems he has some dainty concern for legal proprieties.”

“Then while we wait, you may be interested in something else that I've discovered.”

“What is that, Carlotta?”

“Two things, really. Mr. Reed told you no more last night of Catherine's death? Of her last words?”

“No. What were they?”

“She claimed she had no accident, but that she was
pushed
into the fire. She also instructed me to investigate something. Her exact phrase was, ‘Find out if the boy was—’”

“Pushed! Good God! A horrible thought! But… find out if the boy was
what?
And
what
boy?”

“I'm not sure. Later, Magdalene also told me she once had a lover. He wasn't allowed to stay with her on the island, but a seed was planted. And she bore a son.”

“So that was why she watched, as you told us, from her perch?”

“I think so.”

“And yet no son lived with them all these years?”

“No.”

“A romantic story,” said Edmund. “Did this boy die?”

“No, I think she believes she's seen him.”

“Recently?” asked Longfellow.

“I can't say, but it's what I suppose.”

“On an island she never leaves,” he said quietly. “That supports my earlier idea. Godwin
must
be the one in the will.”

“I wonder,” Charlotte replied. “Why did she make two wills in such a little time?”

“The elderly often retain strong convictions, while they
sometimes lose the ability to judge rationally. Reed will probably have his own ideas. One thing, though, seems certain. He will want to visit the island soon, to look through the rest of his client's papers. We might go along, I think, to help Magdalene claim her possessions.”

“Is it possible that she was the beneficiary in the last will?” asked Charlotte.

“Reed assured us she has no more than a small trust, which he'll continue to manage for her.”

“That's what I thought. Catherine said she'd been passed over before.”

“I'm not sure,” said Montagu, “how this business of heirs will turn out, or if the old woman was pushed or not. But let us suppose whoever did murder Godwin decides to fly. Should that happen, Richard, we may never get our hands on him.”

“Perhaps we should ask no more about Alex for the moment. Nor shall we tell the village just yet what Mrs. Knowles imagined. That doesn't stop us from pursuing the other matter. This moneymaking ring includes too many, I think, for it to remain hidden much longer. We may make some progress there with a few discreet inquiries and a little pressure. Before long, we'll learn who's at its head.”

“And yet…” Charlotte began.

“Yes, Carlotta?”

“Think of the position of anyone who agrees to tell what's been done, whether he was a part of it or not. Wouldn't many call him less than honorable? Especially if an oath has been sworn?”

“Lem, for instance?”

Her expression told him he'd guessed the source of her anxiety. Longfellow nodded slowly, for he supposed
that she was right. He had no wish to shame the boy, even in the eyes of less scrupulous neighbors. “But just who
are
we to ask, then?”

“I think I may have a way…”

Sounds at the back of the house caught their attention. The captain then made his way up the stairs to see his wife, for he'd heard movement above as well. Orpheus led Longfellow and Charlotte to the kitchen, where they found Moses Reed helping Magdalene out of the woolen wrappings wound around her feet. The woman gazed at her new surroundings with more interest than she'd shown the night before, when she'd come into a darker kitchen.

“You're very welcome here, Miss Knowles,” Longfellow told her, smiling calmly. “I hope you'll feel as you do at home.” This sounded highly inappropriate, and so he tried again. “Whatever you need, you have only to ask for. We're glad to have you with us for as long as you wish to stay.”

Magdalene nodded. Moses Reed led her to a seat by the fire, where she began to warm herself.

“Have you spoken with Miss Knowles about the rest?” Longfellow asked the lawyer quietly, once he'd walked him a little distance from the hearth.

“She seemed not quite ready.”

“Reed, do you know she gave birth to a son?”

“Yes, I know of the birth. It was accomplished without the benefit of a ceremony. Or even a midwife, I believe.”

“Was it, by God?” Longfellow's eyes went to the lost woman by the hearth. “Do you know what became of the boy?”

“Quite soon, you will hear reasons for what Mrs.

Knowles insisted on doing, when he was only a few months old. In this, I must admit, I assisted her.”

“When?” Longfellow demanded.
“When
may we know the rest?”

“Later today, I promise you. It can hardly matter if we wait a little longer. This afternoon I will explain it all. But I must prepare the way, and do the thing properly. For too long this unfortunate woman has been abused! Let us not be guilty of the same thing.”

Longfellow said no more. Instead, he turned to practical matters.

“We'll scrape together a breakfast. A ham hangs in my cellar, and there are eggs. We have cheese, preserves, plenty of flour, and cornmeal. What do you say to a hasty pudding with cream and maple sugar, Mrs. Willett? Or do you suggest biscuits?”

Since the oven had not been used for some time, pot pudding was chosen. Cicero and Lem returned to the house, and there were plenty of hands to help in the heating of various dishes at the fire. Those not involved in the cooking arranged tea tables in the front parlor. When Diana descended, eight sat down to breakfast.

After all had been satisfied, they made their plans for the rest of the day. Longfellow invited Captain Montagu to accompany him on a visit to Nathan Browne, the blacksmith, whose forge stood behind the Bracebridge Inn. He also announced his intention of visiting the Blue Boar tavern alone, some time later.

Softened by Lem's pleading, the selectman decided to allow a visit to the Sloan household, as long as it was made in the company of Mrs. Willett. This condition she accepted, since it would give her a chance to see how Hannah progressed. Both promised to return well before
dinner. However, Charlotte made it clear that first she would go and speak with Nathan, as well.

Diana and Magdalene would stay indoors, as neither had any need to go out. Together, they would be able to help Cicero with the dinner.

Cicero agreed, realizing their assistance would be minimal once they'd found something to talk about, and that they would then be little bother, after all.