by Jana Petken
“There are at least fifty men out of Portsmouth involved in the search – and about a hundred covering Norfolk. It’s New Year’s Eve today, but they’ll keep looking regardless. I’m sorry, Jacob,” Hendry said. He noticed Jacob’s pallor and shook his head. “You must feel like hell, but understand that you have a new wife who already suspects you’re in love with Mercy. The last thing we wanted was for you to up and leave Elizabeth your first day home to look for another woman – especially when that woman is Mercy!”
“I am living in hell,” Jacob told him honestly. “And I am sorry for bringing my hell to your door. I’ll apologise to Belle, of course. She didn’t deserve my outburst, especially with her being in a fragile condition.”
“She understands, and she’s tougher than she looks. But damn it, Jacob, I’ve never seen my Belle cry as much as she has these last few days. She knows all about Mercy’s ordeal in Liverpool and is beside herself with worry. She loves Mercy. We all do.”
Jacob turned then to Isaac. He had been surprised to see him still in Portsmouth. He’d thought he’d never see him again. “Isaac, I’m sorry about the things I said to you before I left. Thanks for being here. When you were out with the posse, were there no signs – nothing to give us hope?”
Isaac shook his head. He told him that he’d barely slept in three days and was dead on his feet, but he’d go out again today, this time overnight. They were widening the search. “Three days have passed, and I believe Mercy has gone – really gone.”
“I don’t believe that! You know how tough she is,” Jacob barked.
Hendry put his hand on Jacob’s shoulder and forced him to look at him. “Jacob you’re not thinking straight or being realistic. Mercy left our house, a stone’s throw from all the stores she needed. There were no corners to turn, no dark or dangerous alleyways to get lost in, and just one street to manoeuvre. It was mid-morning. There is no way Mercy could have lost her bearings. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. She would have asked directions.”
“What are you saying?” Jacob asked him with a thunderous look.
“I’m saying that I – we – believe she could have been taken by someone or numerous people, but that’s just one theory.”
Flashes of anger and then anguish alternated in Jacob’s eyes. If this was what had happened, he’d kill the bastard responsible. That was his only thought and the only words he could hear in his mind.
“Have you considered that Mercy might just have decided to leave of her own accord because of your marriage?” Hendry asked. “We can’t overlook the possibility.”
“No!” Isaac butted in, surprising Jacob and Hendry. “No, Hendry, you’re wrong. I saw Mercy the day before your party. I took some medicine to her. Though she was still weakened by the virus, she was also excited and happy. She didn’t run away. My gut tells me she didn’t.”
Jacob stood. He’d had enough of sitting and waiting. He didn’t like what he was hearing. He would lash out at someone very soon if he wasn’t careful. “Who is he in there with?” he demanded of the deputy on duty.
“Some woman called Margaret Mallory,” Jacob was told. “She’s been coming in here for two straight days. Her overseer and a slave were murdered out at her farm – used to belong to the Gibsons.”
Jacob nodded. “Yeah. I remember old man Gibson. That’s a tough break for a woman to handle.”
“Well, I reckon she’s a tough old bird, if you ask me. She’s English, been here about three or four weeks. The dead overseer came with her on the ship – name of Eddie Gunn. Been with her for years, she said.”
Jacob’s head spun. Eddie Gunn? Mercy’s abductor in London had been called Eddie. He was du Pont’s henchman and one of the men who tried to burn the women to death. Was it possible?
“So she’s all alone now?” Jacob asked him, trying to sound calm, attempting but failing to steady his fast-thumping heartbeat.
“Yep. Says she’s all alone and scared. One of her slaves has run away too. Guess he did the murders. We’re out looking for him.”
“And where was she when the men were murdered?”
“Away at the time, visiting with the Harpers – some party or other. Lucky for her, cos the damn nigger would have had her too, I reckon.”
“Yeah, she’s a lucky woman,” Jacob agreed.
“Yep. There were just the two men and two nigger girls in the house. Them nigger girls were tied up in the kitchen alive, but they didn’t see a damn thing, so they told me.”
The name Eddie and the fact that he and this mysterious Mrs Mallory were both English must surely be a coincidence. Could du Pont be in there? He needed more answers.
“So how come the two girls saw nothing?”
“I dunno, Mr Stone. All they said was that it was a big fella, wearing a jacket, gloves, and some sort of mask covering his face. All they saw was a pair of eyes.”
“A mask, huh?” Jacob said. He wondered why a slave from the farm, known by the two girls, would be wearing a mask. That didn’t make any sense …
“I saw the bodies, Mr Stone,” the deputy said. “There was blood everywhere. That poor Englishman never stood a chance. The fella had three holes in his back and half his ear shot off – in the damn back! Can you believe that shit? That nigger’s gonna get strung up as soon as he’s found. You just wait and see. Ain’t gonna be no trial. Trouble is, we’ve already got two posses out on account of that missing Englishwoman. What is it about the damn English? It was a nice, quiet Christmas, and then the English came and blew the damn city down with their shenanigans.”
Jacob had a hundred more questions, but finally the office door opened; he spun round ready to face the woman who would confirm or deny his suspicions.
Sheriff Manning escorted the woman out. Jacob recognised her immediately. His mouth went dry, and his heartbeat quickened again. She had less paint on and a more conservative wig, light brown in colour. She was dressed in mourning black, but it was her. The woman was like a chameleon. By now, Hendry and Isaac were also on their feet. They saw the woman and looked to Jacob, who warned them with his eyes to say nothing.
Jacob casually turned to the window. Hendry and Isaac also turned from her and began a soft-voiced conversation.
Jacob’s mind raced, but his conclusions were quick to come. Du Pont and Eddie had something to do with Mercy’s disappearance. His gut told him that. He knew Mercy and her past better than anyone – better than Isaac, who only knew the half of what happened that night in Liverpool.
This was no coincidence. Du Pont, Eddie, and Mercy were inextricably connected.
Jacob’s heart soared. If Eddie was dead and if a slave was dead, then maybe, just maybe, Mercy had been the one to kill them. He knew this theory was bordering on the ridiculous: a defenceless young woman being abducted and then getting away by shooting two grown men. But he also knew that if Mercy were dead, du Pont wouldn’t be here. The missing slave was puzzling. Had he taken or killed Mercy?
Damn it, it was time to get out of here. There was no going home for him, not yet.
He felt sure that Mercy was out there on the run, either afraid of being caught for murder and/or eaten up with guilt. He smiled to himself. That’s my girl Mercy, he thought with pride. You’re alive. I know you are.
Jacob looked out onto the street with thoughts of murder on his own mind. He would take revenge on du Pont regardless; that was a given. But now he needed to concentrate on Du Pont’s parting words with Sheriff Manning. He blocked out everything but the sound of her voice.
Margaret Mallory dabbed at her tear-stained eyes after glimpsing Jacob, Hendry, and Isaac. She recognised them instantly. Christ, she’d known she might bump into some of her American customers at some point. She’d come here to this part of the world because of them and their gentlemanly ways. But if they recognised her, she’d be finished in this city. City? Bloody stupid – Portsmouth was as small as her neighbourhood in Liverpool!
With her back to the men, she spoke softly to
the sheriff, who was waiting patiently for her to stop crying. “As I said, you can find me at the Langton Boarding House. I’m not living in that house of death on the Hampton Roads another minute, not until that slave has been caught and hanged. I think I’d die from lack of sleep. I’m so alone and vulnerable, you see. If only I had a husband to protect me.” She sobbed a little more.
“Don’t you worry about nothin’,” Sheriff Manning told her. “We’ll swing by your place and make sure it’s all locked up tightly for you.”
“No. That’s very kind of you, but like I said before, I’ve taken my valuables. I’d just like the house to be left as it is for when I return. It’s all cleaned up, and I made sure it’s locked. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else going near it just now. You understand, don’t you, Sheriff?” She dabbed her eyes a little more.
“Of course, if you’re sure …”
“Quite sure. Please just remember that I must be informed as soon as you find that murdering black man. I would hate to think of others being put in danger because of him. He’s a horrible, horrible creature, Sheriff.”
“You have my word, Mrs Mallory. The nigger won’t get far,” Manning assured her. “We’ve got dogs out and some of my best trackers with them. We usually get our niggers back, though some do happen to die of their own accord. He won’t last long in this cold weather, I reckon. He’ll freeze to death. It’s more than likely we’ll bring his corpse back. You sleep easy, Mrs Mallory, and don’t you hesitate to come back here anytime.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” Madame du Pont stretched out her arm, let her hand grow limp, and waited for the sheriff to kiss it. Once he did, she walked to the door and left.
Jacob, Hendry, and Isaac walked back to Hendry’s house. There had been no new updates from John Manning. The posse would set out again within the hour, he’d told them.
Jacob had another idea, which he wanted to run by Hendry and Isaac. His plan was simple.
Seated in Hendry’s drawing room, Hendry and Jacob explained to Belle what they’d seen and heard. All, without exception, voiced that they were feeling more hopeful because of du Pont’s presence in the sheriff’s office.
They agreed that had du Pont found Mercy’s body, she would not have come forward with such keenness and drama. Instead, she would have tried to draw attention away from herself, not towards herself. They’d just heard about a damned expensive funeral for Eddie Gunn, with four plumed horses, a black carriage, and her in black garb following behind with the new acquaintances with which she’d ingratiated herself!
After a light lunch, the three men were unanimous that Jacob’s plan was sound. They were going to du Pont’s house, and no stone would be left unturned. They would search every inch of the place and wouldn’t come back until they were all of a mind that Mercy had or had not been there.
Before leaving, Jacob sent a messenger with a letter to Stone Plantation, informing Elizabeth that he was not returning this day or the next. It was his civic duty to join the posse searching for Mercy Carver and the missing slave. Mercy was Belle’s dear friend, and he was doing this for Belle. He finished by saying that he would be home before she knew it – but then decided to add, out of a sense of duty, that Elizabeth was welcome to join him in Portsmouth.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Jacob smashed a window on the ground floor, knocking out the remaining shards of glass with his rifle butt. He climbed in, followed by Isaac and then Hendry. They spread out, going from room to room. The downstairs rooms smelled of disinfectant. They had been cleaned thoroughly, yet blood splatter still remained visible on part of the drawing room wall. Jacob rummaged through the desk drawers, but each one contained little more than bills and writing materials.
The men met in the hallway and concluded that as far as the house was concerned, there was nothing to suggest Mercy had been there.
They searched the barns next: nothing. The horse stalls and paddock had been cleared out. Jacob suggested that Sheriff Manning and his men must have taken the horses.
They came to the side of the house. Jacob stopped, noticing the small passageway which led to a door. “We’ll take a look in here. Then we’ll have a look around her land.” He kicked a stone. “Damn it, I thought we’d find something,” he said, frustrated.
The basement door was locked. They tried to kick it in, but it was stubbornly strong. After Jacob told the others to stand back, he pointed his rifle at the keyhole. He fired a couple of shots, and the door flew open inwards. They left the door open for light but saw that it wouldn’t be enough once they got down the stairs. Jacob asked Isaac to bring candles from the house.
Jacob and Hendry waited at the entrance. Hendry was first to hear the muffled sounds coming from below. “Jacob, I think there’s someone down there.”
Jacob’s heart raced. “Mercy!” he shouted. He moved quickly and stumbled down the stairs, but when he reached the bottom, he saw nothing but a black hole. A woman’s muffled sounds were growing louder. He shouted to Hendry, “Where the hell is Isaac?”
Isaac appeared. “I’m here, Jacob. We’re coming down.”
Each man held a lit candle. They turned to see a room about fourteen feet long and ten feet wide. They saw the black slave girls tied and gagged in one of the far corners. One girl was mumbling through the rag gagging her mouth. The cotton was bloodied.
Jacob gasped, feeling tears spring to his eyes. “Holy mother of God,” was all he could mutter.
Isaac undid the gags.
The girl was moaning softly and staring unseeingly. Her entire face was damaged. Teeth had been knocked out, and her jawbone was broken. Both eyes were swollen shut, and her black skin had been torn by what looked like fingernails. Even in the soft candlelight, they could see the red and blue bruising on her ebony face, which had lost all structure.
Isaac took a closer look at the other girl. He looked up in the orange glow and shook his head. Her beating had been more severe, coupled with an open wound on her throat. A dried blood trail completely covered her shabby dress.
Hendry took the live girl outside and placed her on the grass, putting his jacket on top of her freezing-cold body. She cried in silence, unable to voice her suffering properly because of the wounds to her mouth and jaw.
In the basement, Jacob asked, “How long, Isaac?”
“A day, no more,” Isaac told him, after examining the body’s lividity.
Jacob carried the dead girl’s body up the stairs and into the softening light of late afternoon. The sky was grey, with not a patch of blue. His mood was as dark as the sky, his hatred for du Pont as bright as the hidden sun.
He knelt on the ground and was reminded of the last time he and Isaac had laid girls on the grass and tended to their injuries.
“Déjà vu,” Isaac said, reading Jacob’s mind. “Is there no end to du Pont’s cruelty?”
Isaac was with the other girl, who was still breathing laboriously. Her eyes were rolling upwards. She tried to speak but couldn’t utter a sound. He asked her if he could lift her dress. There was no response. He lifted it gently to just above her belly and saw the bruising and distension. Isaac looked at Jacob and Hendry and said, “She’s bleeding internally.” He held the girl’s hand and whispered softly, “Who did this to you?”
She stared at him once more, trying to open her mouth, and then she stopped breathing.
“We know who did this,” Jacob said, standing over the bodies.
“I’ve seen some beatings in my time, but never like this. If I didn’t know better, I would have figured an animal did this.”
“There ain’t no animal that kills for pleasure the way Du Pont does,” Jacob said angrily.
“No, sir, I reckon she enjoyed tearing these women apart.” Isaac looked up to see Jacob wiping his eyes. “We can’t take them back with us to Portsmouth. If du Pont did do this, it means she might have found out Mercy was here.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” Jacob agreed. “She more than
likely tortured them to get to the truth about who killed Eddie. Their story to the deputy didn’t make sense to me. So who were they covering for?”
“The slave?” Hendry said with a shrug.
Jacob shook his head. “I don’t think so. If the missing slave murdered the two men, why would the girls lie about it? No, they were covering for someone else, someone more vulnerable. I’m guessing du Pont got that someone’s name or description from them, and then she had to shut them up. It has to be Mercy. It has to be.”
Isaac stood and took Jacob by the shoulders. “Are you telling us that you believe Mercy killed the men and then ran away with a slave of her own accord?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jacob smiled.
The three men decided that they should not accuse du Pont of these murders, for if they did, she would take Mercy down with her and accuse her of the double murder. Mercy would be called a whore, Jacob reminded them. She would become a fugitive, a wanted woman, a woman who had run away with a nigger slave.
Jacob had no proof of anything, yet he knew Mercy was alive. She was out there somewhere, and his only mission now was to track her down and bring her home.
He stared at the two dead girls for a moment and said, “We need to bury these girls in the woods. For the moment, du Pont will just have to torture herself wondering where their bodies are and who buried them.”
Isaac creased his brow with worry. “Jacob, she saw all three of us in the sheriff’s office. She looked right at us. I know it was just for a split second, but she’s sure to make some kind of move on us at some point – even if it’s just to make sure we won’t tell anyone who she really is.”
“Or she’ll keep her mouth shut and stay in the shadows,” Hendry offered.
Jacob agreed with Isaac. Du Pont lived to be centre stage. She wouldn’t remain in the shadows. She needed friends, and she’d be wondering right now if they’d given her away to Sheriff Manning. Let her wonder, Jacob decided. This was becoming more like a game of chess, and he intended to win.
