The Grave Robber's Secret (10 page)

She grabbed the food and began sticking large pieces in her mouth. Robby feared she might choke. “Slow down,” he said, “you can have it all. There's no rush.”

Jane looked at him but continued to chew. Robby laid the dress over one of her shoulders. “Here's a dress for you,” he said. “I must go home now.” He pulled her up. “You cannot sit in the street so. You're likely to get stepped on by a fast horse. I saw a little girl hurt by a horse just a couple of days ago.” He stopped himself from saying it was the child they had seen selling matches. The news would have upset Jane, even though Dolly was healing well.

Jane nodded, but said nothing, just continued her eating frenzy. He pulled at her arm until she stood. He whirled around and began to run. The black carriage sat in front of the house, but Bostic and son had already gone inside. Robby burst through the front door just as his mother had begun to take them upstairs. He noticed a large blanket folded and carried under Mr. Bostic's arm, and he knew immediately how it would be used. He followed them up to Miss Stone's room.

Martha was beside the bed, her face stained with tears. “Are you a relative?” Mr. Bostic asked. Martha shook her head.

Ma made a
tsk
sound with her tongue. “The dear soul hasn't any family, not one living relative.”

“I take it you won't want a funeral, then. Is that correct?”

“No, just a burial, as quick as possible.”

“Very well. You should go downstairs now, all of you. We will load the body, then come back inside for payment.”

When they were in the hall Ma put one arm around Robby and one around Martha, drawing them to her closely. “We've got to keep her dying a secret,” she said. “Maybe we could say a friend come along and took her off to a home in the country, or maybe we could even pretend she's right upstairs all along, until it's too late.”

“Too late for what?” Martha asked.

Robby and his mother exchanged worried looks. He had forgotten that Martha did not know about Da's grave robbing. No one spoke for a minute. Finally Ma began to explain. “Mr. Hare likes to dig up bodies, ones just freshly buried. He can sell them to the doctors at the medical schools.” A great gasp came from Martha, but Ma went on. “If we don't want her cut up, we must keep her death a secret.” Robby shuddered at the thought of keeping another secret.

Just then Mr. Bostic called, “We're coming down now.” What had looked like a blanket was actually a bag. Mr. Bostic carried his end down first, with Joseph following.

“Open the door for them, Robby,” Ma said. “I'll get the money and the yellow dress.”

Robby did as he was told. He opened the door and looked right into Da's eyes. “What in blazes is going on?” Roger Hare, wearing a new suit coat, pushed his son aside and stepped into the hall.

Mr. Bostic was at the foot of the stairs now, his son only a couple of steps behind. “If you will excuse me, my dear sir, I have a body here that needs to be taken to my hearse.”

Da reached behind him, slammed the door shut, and shook his head. “Oh, no you don't,” he declared, his cheeks inflamed with anger. “I don't know who called you here, but I am the head of this here household. I tell you there will be no body removed from it without me say so.”

Mr. Bostic raised his eyebrows, making his dark eyes large. “Am I to understand that you do not wish to see this lady have a Christian burial?”

“Take her back upstairs,” demanded Da.

“I think not, my good man,” said Bostic. He stepped away from the stair post with his son following. “You may take her back yourself!” They lowered the body, undid the fasteners on the dark bag and slowly rolled Miss Stone onto the floor.

Mr. Bostic handed the bag to his son, who folded it while the father turned back to where Da blocked the door. “Move, please, sir,” he said.

Da made no motion. “I will not,” he thundered.

“Move, sir,” Mr. Bostic said, and his voice was more forceful, and amazingly Roger Hare moved.

“Joseph,” Mr. Bostic called over his shoulder, and they both walked out.

“Now, I mean to have the truth of this here trickery. When did this woman die, and why haven't I been told what is happening in me own house?”

Robby could see his mother, who had returned from the kitchen, getting ready to say something, but he stepped in front of her. “We found her dead this morning, and we didn't want you to know because we were afraid you would do exactly what you are doing right now.”

“You bet I am. Likely we need to wait for dark. Not that what we are doing is anyone's business. She has no relations. Still, some people get real worked up over nothing.”

Robby pulled himself up straight. “I won't help you, Da,” he said. “I can't keep you from doing this, but I won't help you, no matter what you do to me.” He braced himself for the slap he expected, and Da drew back his hand.

No one had noticed William Burke come in. He stood in the doorway listening to Robby. “Hare,” he said coldly. “Hold your temper. There is certainly no reason to strike the boy. Please step outside with me for a private word.” He stepped backward out the door, and Roger Hare followed.

“Come, Martha,” Ma said to the girl who cowered in the corner. “Why don't you go up to your room now? You've no need to hear all this business.” Then she turned to her son. “Robby, you should go upstairs, bring down Miss Stone's pillow and the quilt from her bed. I won't leave her dumped like a bit of garbage.”

When Robby came back down, his mother knelt on the floor beside the body. She took the pillow and put it under Miss Stone's head. Then she spread the quilt over the woman. “We can't stop him, Robby, but we done our best. That's all any soul can do.” She had just gotten to her feet when the men came back in the front door.

Burke looked at Robby. “There will be no forcing you to help your father,” he said. “I shall be glad to assist him.” He turned his eyes back to Da. “I believe Mr. Hare will be … what shall I say?” He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Mr. Hare will be less agitated in the future. The two of us are going into business together, and in fact we must go out now.” He turned to Ma. “We shall be back shortly for the noontide meal, dear lady.”

When they were gone, Ma went to prepare food. Martha, who had not gone up many stairs, came down to go with Robby to the kitchen. Ma gave them potatoes to peel, and she began to slice mutton. “What business do you suppose my husband and your father are going into together?” she asked Martha. “Do you think they mean to rob graves?”

Martha shook her head. “I doubt it. Papa hates to get his hands dirty. My papa is very good to me and he was good to my mother.” She sighed. “Robby knows what they are doing.”

Robby laid down the potato he had been working on and told his mother about following Mr. Burke.

“Most likely he is using Mr. Hare to help him cheat at cards,” said Martha. “I remember that he had a partner like that once in Boston, a fellow to give him hand signals, just little movements of his fingers about the cards. I used to hear them practice. I never told Mama.”

Ma nodded. “It's called a skin game, I think. They act like they don't know each other, just go from one game to another cheating people.” She shrugged. “Could get theirselves beat up right bad, they could, but I don't think they're likely to end up in jail.”

A terrible thought came to Robby. “Ma,” he said, “do you think Da or Mr. Burke might have killed Miss Stone in the night, so they could sell the body?”

“Mercy, Robby, your da is not a murderer, nor Martha's father neither, I'd hope. No,” said Ma. “If they'd killed her, the men wouldn't have been gone so long this morning. They would have claimed the body at once.”

“That's right,” said Robby. “I don't know what to do about the doctor's school.” He closed his eyes. “I can't stand to think of Miss Stone there on that table. I don't believe I can go back.”

“I'd say you must go back.” Ma went back to the mutton. “Miss Stone would want you to do it, and Robby, I don't know as she would really mind, I mean being there. You know how she was about folks learning things. She'd most likely want to help the doctors in their studies, don't you suppose she would?”

Robby moved away from the table to wash the potatoes. “She did say I might want to become a doctor, and she was so interested when I told her about the surgery. She had studied the body herself, told me all about the spleen.”

“She wouldn't want you to give up your job on her account. You know she wouldn't.”

Robby thought about his mother's comment, and they worked for a time without speaking. Finally he said, “I wouldn't say this to Da, but I think you might be right. Miss Stone might not mind at all.”

“Well,” said Ma, “it's a sure and certain thing the poor dear don't need that old body now.” She frowned. “Still, I don't like to think of it. Right now, though, we got to get this meal ready.”

Somehow they got through the noon meal. William Burke was concerned because he could see that Martha had been crying. “I'm sad about Miss Stone, Papa. She was so good to me.”

“She was old,” he said. “The old do not mind dying. They are tired, my pet.”

Robby looked down at his plate. He wanted to ask if Jacob had minded dying, but of course, he didn't. How was he going to endure living with the man? Even Burke's voice terrified him. He glanced up at Martha and wished he had made no promises to keep the secret of her father's past safe.

Right after they had eaten, the men went out again, announcing to Ma that they would be taking their evening meal with business associates. Time seemed to drag for Robby, and he was pleased when his mother suggested cleaning Miss Stone's room. “Likely your Da will want to put out the ‘Room to Let' sign tomorrow.”

They packed her dresses and other clothing in her trunk. Ma gave a pretty little hand mirror to Martha, who had wandered in to watch. “The books are yours, Robby.” Ma pursed her mouth, thinking. “Maybe you should keep them in Martha's room for right now. Later when we're sure your da won't raise a stink about selling the lot, we'll take them, shelf and all, to the parlor.”

It was a long evening and night for Robby. Long after Ma and Martha had gone to bed, he lay on his kitchen pallet, unable to sleep. The quiet enabled him to hear the town crier shout, “Two o'clock and all's well.” It was not long after that he heard Da and Mr. Burke come in. “I'll get the bag and the wheelbarrow from the shed,” Da said. “Just give me time to change me clothes. I'd not want to spoil me new duds.”

Robby closed his eyes and rolled toward the hearth. His father would need to come through the kitchen to get to his bedchamber. He heard the heavy steps come toward him and stop beside where he lay. Robby pretended to sleep, unable to stand the thought of looking at Da. Then, to Robby's surprise, his father knelt on the floor beside the pallet, and Robby held still while the massive hand rested on his forehead for a minute.

Then Da moved on to his bedchamber. A few minutes later, Robby heard the back door close. He listened for the front door to open, and it did. “There you are,” he heard Burke say.

“Let's get the old girl into her bag and give her a ride,” Da said.

Robby stuck his fingers in his ears. When he was fairly certain they were gone, Robby lay in the dark thinking. How could Da seem one minute to love him and then be so cruel the next? What strange things must be inside his father. Robby buried his face in his pillow and began to cry. He had not cried like that since Lolly's death. He cried for Miss Stone even now being taken into the surgery. He cried for his mother's hard life. He cried for his father's twisted pain, and he cried for himself and for Martha.

The next morning Da came in early, showing no signs of having been up most of the night. Ma stopped in her breakfast preparation to get him a cup of tea, and he even said, “Thank you, my dear.” Robby scrambled up from his pallet, folded it, and put it in the bottom cabinet where his small stack of clothing was kept. He had no wish to be near his father, but he had to add coal to his mother's stove.

Da was in a very good mood, and he couldn't resist sharing news of his good fortune. He leaned back in his chair and announced, “Our Mr. William Burke, why he's a plain genius.” Robby paused in the doorway to listen “He's devised an amazing plan with cards. Oh, it's more than a game to him. He's a pure genius, I tell you. Yes sirree, Bob, and I'm proud to be his partner. 'Course, we don't let on that we know each other overmuch. It wouldn't do for other fellows to know we work together. We'll agree on an establishment for cards, and we'll take turns arriving first, never together.”

“That's lovely,” Ma said, and Robby knew that she meant it would be nice to have her husband out of the house more. It was good news for Robby too. He had decided last night to go back to the medical school, and he did not want to hear his father's comments. He left as soon as the men were gone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A
t the hospital, he found the door locked again, and he knocked hard. Jenkins opened the door, dust rag in hand. “Good thing you showed up today. We got lots going on here.” He opened the door wide and Robby stepped inside. Jenkins continued, “You can sweep any room 'cept the fifth, the surgery, you know. Doc Bell, he has 'em all closed up, been in there most of the morning.” He pointed to the broom leaning against the doorway of room one.

Robby looked down the hall to the door of the surgery. He knew what body lay on that table, and he thought for a minute he might get sick to his stomach. “What's wrong, lad? You ain't looking so good,” said Jenkins.

Robby rested against the wall. “I know the woman they are cutting up,” he said. “She was a dear lady, who used to be a schoolteacher. She taught me to read and write.”

“Makes you feel bad I reckon, but I'd say she might not mind at all, her being big on folks learning.” He laughed. “I done told Doc Bell that he can have my worthless carcass when I expire.” He laughed again. “ 'Course, I expect he would of laid claim to me anyway, living right here like I do.”

Robby was glad to have something else to think about. “You live here at the school, Mr. Jenkins?” he asked.

“Sure do; got me a little room with a bed and a wee kitchen.” He pointed to the last door on the right. “Don't need nothing else. I used to be the one to get up at night to pay the resurrection men, you know, for the bodies. Lately, though, I ain't been able to hear even when they pound at the door.” He pointed to his ear. “Hearing ain't what it used to be. Doc Bell's taken to staying most nights so we don't miss getting in …” He stopped. “Sometimes I rattle on too much when I've got someone about to listen to me. I'm sorry about your teacher dying and all.”

“Thank you, sir.” Robby drew in his breath and reached for the broom.

“No need to call me ‘sir.' ” He laughed. “Now that we're friends, no need to call me Mr. Jenkins, either, not really. Lij will do just fine.” He peered closely at Robby. “Something about you puts me in mind of my son.” He shook his head slowly. “Hard to believe he'd be thirty-five now if he'd of lived. He'd be a man, and me likely a grandfather.” He did not move away, and Robby sensed he would like to talk.

“How long ago did he die?”

Lij let his breath out in a long exhale. “Oh, near on twenty years. Lost a little girl too, and my wife. Smallpox it was. Took it myself, but I didn't die.” He smiled a weak smile. “Wished I had for a long time, sure wished I had.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Jenkins.”

“Thank you, son.” He put out his hand to pat Robby's shoulder. “But you call me Lij now.” He nodded his head. “You're a good lad to talk to, but reckon we'd best get to work.” He moved away, and Robby stepped from against the wall and began to sweep.

Lij called back over his shoulder. “Don't come down around the door today. I'll be doing the emptying, you know.”

The door to the fifth room was still closed when Robby went past it to record his two hours on his time sheet. He was glad to leave before the students came out with Miss Stone's blood on their aprons, talking about what they had learned.

Back home, his mother was putting the last touches on supper. He had just washed up to help her when he heard the front door open. Mr. Burke went upstairs, and Da came into the kitchen. He looked glum. “Things went bad, they did.” He dropped into his chair. “We lost money, and Burke says it's me fault.” He made a sort of groaning sound. “Get me a cup of tea, boy.” He rested his face in his hands.

He looked up at Robby as he poured a cup from the teakettle his mother had on the stove. “I've got to lay hands on money to make it up to Burke. He's a powerful man, and I ain't desiring to be on the outs with him. The sign should be up about the room. We need to rent it immediately.” When Robby set the tea in front of him, he said, “Fetch the sign from the shed, boy, and get the thing up.” He shook his head. “Ain't nothing ever done around here without me directing it?”

In the shed, Robby had to move the wheelbarrow to get to the sign. He had made it himself some time ago. It had black letters on a white background. The board he had nailed it to was whittled to a sharp point, making it possible to pound it into the ground. He took a hammer, went to the front of the house, and put up the sign. When he finished, he stood for a moment, looking up. A curtain moved in a window upstairs. William Burke looked down at him. A chill passed through Robby's body, but he made himself wave. The man did not respond. Robby took the hammer back to the shed.

Wanting to postpone another encounter with his father, he walked back to the front of the house to enter. William Burke was no longer at the window, but Robby heard his voice the moment he cracked open the front door. Burke and Da were in the parlor. Robby removed his shoes, eased the door open, and stepped lightly inside.

“I've decided you shouldn't rent the empty room,” Burke said. “Not if you want to go into this new venture with me. Take down that sign. We will undoubtedly need it for our activities.”

“Well, I don't know.” Da sounded distressed. “I never said I'd do it. It's dangerous business. Besides, why couldn't we do our work in your room?”

Burke's voice was cold. “I've no wish to argue with you. Either you are in or out. If you want in, take down the sign.”

Afraid he might be caught listening, Robby slipped on his shoes, slammed the front door, and walked to the parlor doorway. “I've got the sign up, Da,” he said.

“Take it down,” said William Burke. “Your father has decided not to rent the other room at present.”

Robby said nothing, but he looked at his father. Da waved his hand to shoo him away. “Do as you are told, boy,” he said. Robby went back out to pull up the sign and return it to the shed. What was going on? He was certain William Burke was up to no good, and he was sure his father would follow. His father was a bully, and like most bullies, he was afraid of those meaner than he was.

That evening immediately after supper, the two men went out. They offered no explanation. Robby heard them leave, and stopped stacking dirty dishes at the table. “Do you think they're going to play cards again?” he asked.

Ma poured hot water from the heated kettle into her dishpan, and she shook her head. “No, your da didn't have on his new coat. Even Mr. Burke wasn't dressed up.” She sighed deeply. “Don't trouble yourself much about the doings of them two. Thank goodness the good Lord don't hold us accountable for your da's actions.”

Later, when darkness came, Robby and Martha read books in the parlor, but Robby found himself going often to the window to look out.

“You're worried, aren't you?” Martha asked.

“I am.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I just have a bad feeling, that's all.” He thought of telling her what he had overheard, but he decided not to. Martha knew her father was not always honest, but she loved him anyway. No need to make her worry too.

A thought came to him. His father and Burke might be robbing a grave. No, he told himself, it was far too early to go out on such a mission. Still, after Martha had gone up to bed, he took a lantern and headed for the back door. From her bedchamber, his mother called, “Robby, why are you going out?”

He thought for a second, then answered, “I need to check the sign, make sure I put it back in the shed.” It was a dark night, perfect for a trip to the cemetery, but Robby was relieved to see the wheelbarrow there in its place, just behind the sign.

He lay awake on his pallet for a long time, listening for the front door. He had propped open the swinging door between the kitchen and the parlor so that he would be sure to hear the men. Sometime after midnight, he fell asleep. He did not wake until he heard them on the steps. “Come on up,” said Burke. “We'll have a bit of a drink before we say good night.” The voice had a tone more friendly than Robby had ever heard from Burke.

“Sounds fine,” said a voice Robby did not recognize. He crept out of bed and through the parlor. He dared not go all the way into the hall, but he could see the first part of the stairs from the entrance.

It was too late. A light came on in Miss Stone's room. He wanted to go up and listen at the door, but he was terrified someone would open the door and discover him.

He decided to go back to his pallet and wait. At first it was easy to stay awake. When he began to be sleepy, he tried sitting up. Finally, when nothing more had happened for a long time, he could fight no longer. He was asleep before he lay down.

His mother woke him with a gentle shake of his shoulder. “Get up,” she said, her voice low. “I'm under orders from your da not to make breakfast until Mr. Burke is awake. I'm to wake your da after I hear Mr. Burke stirring about. I'm to feed you, Martha, and myself a cold breakfast in the parlor and then send you out for the morning. Your da woke up just long enough to warn me that there should be no noise in the house, none a'tall.”

Ma had already told Martha, who tiptoed down the stairs. They ate bread with butter and thick blackberry jam and drank hot cups of tea. “This jam is so good,” Martha whispered.

Ma smiled. “It's my best. I been saving it for special, and I reckon breakfast in the parlor is special.” She smiled again, and Robby was struck once more by how hard his mother's life was. He wished he could give her more occasions to smile.

“You two go for a walk or something now,” Ma whispered when breakfast was over. “Robby, maybe you'd like to take Martha to Fairmount.” Her voice dropped even lower. “I'll get some coins for the omnibus and for something to eat. There's Miss Stone's rent money still in the cabinet. Your da don't know I've got it.”

Robby smiled. He loved omnibuses because they sat up high, with a driver even higher. They were more expensive than trolleys, but there were no trolley tracks out to Fairmount Park, two miles outside of the city. Then a thought came to him. They would have to go down to the square to get on an omnibus. They might well see Jane on the streets.

“Martha,” he said, “I didn't tell you that I saw Jane a couple of days ago.” He looked down for a moment. “The beggar woman I told you and Miss Stone about, that was Jane.” He shrugged. “I guess I didn't want you to be disappointed that she didn't stay with the Quakers.”

Martha sighed and her shoulders drooped. “Oh, I am sad about that.” She pulled herself straight again and then stood. “Well,” she said, “I won't give up. Maybe if we keep taking her back, she will finally stay.” She looked at Ma. “Do you think we could take her some bread?”

Ma cut two thick slices from the loaf, spread butter and jam on each, then put them together like a sandwich. She wrapped the bread in the dish towel she had spread on a parlor table for their breakfast. “Bring back my cloth,” she said. “The poor girl would have no use for it anyway.”

“I'll go upstairs ever so quietly and get my big pocket to tie on. We can put the food in there,” Martha said.

The day was warm, and buds appeared in the gardens of well-cared-for houses. On one street they saw a small boy running after a goat. “Come back, Lucy,” he yelled, and he waved a rope. Both Robby and Martha joined the chase. Robby was surprised at how fast Martha ran, and she was only slightly behind him when Lucy slowed and turned into a garden of a fine home. She helped herself to a bulb that would have soon been a tulip, and she was reaching for another when Robby threw his arms around her neck.

Martha came, laughing, to join them. Just then the back door of the mansion opened, and a women in a white starched apron came charging out with a broom. “Get the beast out of me lady's garden, you little hooligans!” She waved her broom around wildly.

“Please don't hit Lucy,” Martha pleaded. “We'll get her out.”

The maid continued to swing the broom. She hit Robby slightly with the straw end, but not enough to make him quit laughing.

Together they dragged the protesting Lucy back onto the street to wait for her exhausted owner. “Please don't hit Lucy,” Robby mimicked, “just hit old Robby here, instead.” They were still laughing when the boy got to them. He thanked them several times, then fastened the rope around the goat's neck and led her away.

“ 'Bye, Lucy,” Martha called.

The two continued their journey. The brightness of the day and the thrill of having a little money in his pocket lifted Robby's spirits. Being outside of the house with the broken stoop made him feel free and closer to Martha. “Our fathers are up to something,” he said. “Your papa told Da not to rent Miss Stone's room. I overheard them talking about using it for business, and last night when they came in they went up to that room. I think someone was with them, but I fell asleep before they left.”