“Arthur claimed that Nicholas had returned to work on the bookkeeping,” Clay replied, “yet Ned told me that the books were already up to date.”
Nicholas, hearing Constable Brindle describe Arthur’s blatant lie, ignored the episode between Katherine and Gilbert and focused on the trial. He remembered facing Arthur Weeks in the Water Barrel Inn where the man had flung his vile accusation, though he now felt no anger toward him as he had earlier. Knowing that Arthur died at the hands of an Enâri creature, he could only conjure up compassion for his former coworker. For a little money, Arthur had been duped by Dooley and Farnsworth, and in the end paid for it with his life. Nicholas would save his indignation for those who deserved it more.
“We then walked to Nicholas’ cottage on Maynard Kurtz’ farm,” the constable continued. “I wanted to question him about Arthur’s accusation, though I didn’t find him on the property. I found something else instead.”
The misery and confusion that had plagued Nicholas eight months ago again stirred inside him, but this time the emotions didn’t overwhelm him since he knew of the intricacies behind the grand deception. As Clay described finding the flour sacks and silver half-pieces in the shed, Nicholas again wondered how individuals and events might have been affected differently if he hadn’t fled. Might people have escaped much suffering if he had stayed and faced the charges against him from the start?
He knew he would never satisfactorily answer that riddle, knowing he must accept his path in life as it unwound. As Malek had once told him, he might have been destined to have a role in the troubled events of the day. Maybe leaving Kanesbury was what he was supposed to have done. He would never have met Megan on the road otherwise, launching a chain of events that helped topple the evil growing in Kargoth and spreading across Laparia. He knew he must accept that logic and get on with life.
“I tracked down Nicholas at the Water Barrel Inn,” Clay continued. “I told him about the accusations against him which he immediately denied to Arthur Weeks’ face. When I displayed the button found near the spilled flour, it matched the buttons on Nicholas’ jacket, one of which was missing.” A few surprised gasps were audible in the hushed silence. “As Nicholas again denied the charges, I returned with him to the shed and revealed the stolen items. Nicholas once more claimed his innocence, unable to explain how the items had gotten there. But as all the evidence pointed to him, I had no choice but to escort him to the lockup until I could further investigate.” Clay Brindle again removed a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “But while stopping by his cottage to get another jacket, as I had to keep the one with the missing button as evidence, Nicholas gave me the slip and ran off into a field.
“To complicate matters, Arthur Weeks was murdered later that night while visiting Dooley Kramer. The poor man had been stabbed to death. I heard Dooley’s frantic screams while I was a few streets away, so I rushed to his house with a curious crowd in tow. Looking frazzled and terrified, Dooley told me that Nicholas had been to his house and killed Arthur because he had implicated him in the robbery. I immediately increased the scope of my search for Nicholas, rounding up additional volunteers. But by dawn, I assumed that he was long gone and called everybody back. And though I sent a description of Nicholas and a list of his alleged deeds to other authorities in the region, we never had any success in locating him.”
Clay briefly turned to Nicholas, catching his eye. “But the only reason Nicholas Raven stands trial now is because he returned of his own accord to face these charges, placing himself at the mercy of the village. The jury must weigh that action as it sees fit. And so, ladies and gentlemen, that is the extent of my story. As the two key witnesses against him are no longer here–Arthur Weeks being deceased and Dooley Kramer missing–I have no one else to provide testimony since no one has come forth during my investigation to substantiate the charges. Unless anyone steps forward now with pertinent information, I’ll sit down and allow Nicholas to present his case.”
Clay Brindle looked about the room, making a perfunctory effort to encourage any reluctant witnesses to come forth. But expecting none, he took his seat by Nicholas, again dabbing his forehead with the handkerchief while clutching his cane in the other hand.
“You did a fine job, Clay,” Nicholas whispered.
“Thanks,” he replied. “Hope I didn’t build a wall too high for you to climb over.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said as Farnsworth stood to speak.
“Thank you, Clay, for a fine summation of some complex and grisly details,” he said. “I’m sure the jurors have gleaned much from your descriptions. However, they must balance your words against those of Nicholas Raven who will now offer his statement before calling forth any witnesses.” Farnsworth extended a hand, indicating for him to proceed. “You may now make your case, sir.”
As he sat down, Nicholas rose from his chair, his unease apparent to all. But with the fates of several people in the balance and thoughts of Ivy on his mind, he knew that much rested on his performance. After taking a deep breath, his nerves settled and soon the words poured forth from his heart.
“Thank you for allowing me to speak today,” Nicholas said, gazing about the hall and at the jury. “And though I also agree that Constable Brindle gave a fine speech, I hope to prove the accusations leveled against me are false even though my accusers are not around to defend their charges. I say to you in all honesty that I did not steal money or flour from Ned’s gristmill. I worked as an accountant for him, a man I deeply respect, for almost two years. I labored in his mill for an additional two years before that, so I couldn’t conceive of committing such an act against someone whose trust I’ve worked to attain and whose friendship I was honored to have earned.
“As for the murder of Arthur Weeks, I didn’t commit that horrible deed either, even though Arthur lied and accused me of the robbery. His action was inexcusable, but he didn’t deserve to die because of it,” he said as the golden glow of sunlight illuminated the western windows. “I didn’t kill Arthur, because at the time of his death, I was nowhere near him.” He paused and scanned the faces of those nearest to him, sensing their polite skepticism. “And I can prove it, too. You see, I have a witness.”
Whispers of disbelief spread across the room. Nicholas knew he had grabbed everyone’s attention, including Farnsworth and Clay Brindle’s, both of whom he guessed were wondering why he hadn’t mentioned this fact to them during the past week.
Farnsworth was thinking exactly that as pangs of uneasiness swept over him, yet he kept his composure and feigned a level of surprise equal to those around him. What worried him most about the stunning revelation was the door it might open to other avenues of discussion. If Nicholas could produce a witness to exonerate him, then people would begin to ask who had really killed Arthur Weeks, and more importantly, why. Everyone would then wonder why Dooley Kramer had lied about Nicholas’ involvement in the murder, igniting further speculation about the events of that night. Farnsworth fumed inside, believing that Nicholas had deceived him. He desperately wanted to know why, but more importantly, he wanted the name of the mysterious witness.
“I’m telling the truth!” Nicholas said, raising his voice until the crowd calmed down. “And that witness is here tonight. But before I call on the individual, you must know that this person wanted to speak to Constable Brindle months ago, but at my stubborn insistence, kept silent. Since the witness is a close friend, I feared that until the real murderer was found, her life might be in danger if she stepped forward to defend me.”
Upon hearing Nicholas utter the word her, many heads in the room turned to Katherine Durant. Farnsworth starred coolly at her, knowing he must keep his composure until he knew all the facts. But a wave of anxiety slowly engulfed him when realizing that a secret alliance existed between Nicholas and Katherine. He knew that Nicholas had deceived him, having told him a week ago that he had never said goodbye to Katherine before he fled the village. It had been a lie, but for what purpose?
A chill shot up his back when he considered that the couple might have talked to each other since his return to Kanesbury despite Nicholas’ statement to the contrary. If they had met, what might have been discussed? Farnsworth gripped the edge of the chair, his fingernails digging into the wood as he helplessly listened to Nicholas address the spellbound citizens of Kanesbury.
“So if she is willing,” he continued as the crowd held its collective breath, “I would ask Katherine Durant to explain how I secretly met with her that night while hiding in the ice cellar in Oscar and Amanda Stewart’s home.” He looked at Katherine with an encouraging smile, silently wishing her good luck. She stood, nervously pressing the creases out of her dress as she confronted a barrage of inquisitive stares.
“What Nicholas said is true,” she remarked, her soft voice barely filling the hall. Oscar and Amanda were seated a few rows ahead to her left across the center aisle. She gazed at them apologetically, but seeing nothing except kindness and understanding in their eyes, her confidence was bolstered. “I had been working in Amanda’s kitchen on the first night of the Harvest Festival to help with their annual party. When I stepped into the adjoining pantry, someone whispered to me from behind the door leading to the ice cellar. To my surprise, it was Nicholas Raven. I followed him downstairs to talk in private.
“I was relieved to see him after hearing rumors of his involvement in the robbery. He said that he had no idea how the items from the gristmill had ended up in his shed, but what disturbed him more was that Arthur Weeks had falsely accused him. Nicholas regretted running away from the constable and wanted to turn himself in, but I urged him to rest on his decision overnight. He agreed, planning to return later to Maynard Kurtz’ farm and sleep in the barn, hoping by then that Constable Brindle and his men would be gone.” Katherine paused, lowering her eyes. “But that didn’t happen as an even more horrible event gripped Kanesbury later that night, with Nicholas again being thrust into the center of the new controversy.”
“And that new controversy was the murder of Arthur Weeks?” Farnsworth asked from his chair, his distrust of Katherine escalating though he looked pleasantly upon her.
“That’s correct,” she replied, not rattled by his interruption. “After Nicholas and I talked, I left him alone to rest. But after learning about the murder a couple of hours later and hearing that Nicholas was being accused of the crime, I rushed back to the ice cellar. I found him fast asleep and woke him with the bad news. He was confused in his exhausted state, feeling that people and events were conspiring against him. So at my urging, he reluctantly fled Kanesbury later that night, not telling me in which direction he would be leaving. I promised not to reveal this information to anyone since he feared for my safety. And I kept my promise–well, for the most part.” She looked at Nicholas with a trace of guilt. “I ended up telling one other person.”
Murmurs of surprise spread through the hall. Even Nicholas looked upon her with a befuddled expression as she had never mentioned that fact during their encounter thirteen days ago. When the room quieted, he again addressed her.
“I’m curious, Katherine–as I’m sure is everyone–as to whom you shared this information with,” he said. “And why?”
“I’ll gladly tell you,” she replied, glancing ahead a few rows to her right, “though I don’t know if this individual had expected to be called upon to speak today.”
Ned Adams turned around in his seat and looked at her. “It’s all right, dear,” he said, standing up. “I’m more than happy to speak in Nicholas’ defense. I believe with all my heart that he is innocent of these crimes.” He turned to Nicholas. “Shall I begin?”
“Please,” he said, signaling for Katherine to take her seat.
“Very well. And I shall not take up much of your time as my story is brief,” he began. “The reason Miss Durant confided in me is the result of a chance meeting in front of the village hall one evening six months ago. It was the second day of Old Autumn, a date I remember as I’m sure many here do, since later that same night, Caldurian’s hired troops from the Isles stormed our village and raided our homes. And on the night before that, my gristmill had been razed to the ground in a devastating fire.”
“Why were you and Katherine talking about me?” Nicholas inquired.
“She and I were discussing Otto’s strange reappearance,” Ned told him. “Katherine’s uncle, having warned some villagers that trouble was afoot, didn’t seem like his old self when he had stopped by to see me one night. Even Katherine agreed that Otto had appeared distant and aloof. That he fled the village he loved so dearly before the forewarned attack only added to our confusion. That wasn’t the Otto we knew. And though we attributed his strange behavior to his having been kidnapped by the Enâri creatures at Barringer’s Landing–or so we believed at the time–Katherine and I also shared those similar feelings about another individual.”
“And who would that be?” Nicholas asked.
“Maynard Kurtz. He was exhibiting a distant personality quite opposite his usual affability,” he explained. “What I’m trying to say is that the odd behavior of both Otto and Maynard, coupled with the gristmill robbery, Adelaide Cooper’s disappearance and Arthur Weeks’ murder–all happening just as the Enâri reawakened and escaped from the Spirit Caves–well, it made me regret that I had even for a minute believed Nicholas Raven was responsible for his accused crimes. Though I couldn’t prove it, I suspected that that conniving wizard Caldurian had his dirty hands in those goings-on. Nicholas, I believe, had somehow gotten tangled in the web of events for reasons that none of us could explain.
“Sensing my emotional turmoil and wishing to allay my fears, Katherine informed me that Nicholas had been in the ice cellar at the time of Arthur’s death.” Ned looked about, grateful to see that people were beginning to understand that Nicholas had been falsely accused. “Upon hearing the information, I knew that Dooley Kramer had lied and that he and Arthur must have been involved in the robbery. But why they framed Nicholas, I cannot guess. We even speculated that maybe Dooley had committed the murder.” He sadly shook his head and shrugged. “It’s a muddled mystery for sure.”
“But perhaps a mystery someone else can shed some light upon,” Katherine remarked. She again stood to the surprise of her mother who looked on in stunned silence. Lewis and Gilbert, however, remained stone-faced as they listened, knowing that each word she spoke drove the narration of events closer to Zachary Farnsworth’s role.
Farnsworth sat stiffly upon hearing this, knowing that Katherine was taunting him, prodding his patience, but he didn’t know to what purpose. Was she simply pushing back and testing him? Or did she mean to expose him? The nine men he had hired to watch Katherine and her family and friends had assured him that she had never left the village or made contact with any strangers over the weeks. No one out of the ordinary had visited her home either, not even in the dead of night. That knowledge calmed him a little bit, but just to be safe, he glanced at his paid operative seated along the east wall. After quietly getting his attention, Farnsworth raised an eyebrow and signaled him to be ready to alert his associates outside and take action if necessary. Waiting near the lockup was a horse loaded with money and supplies in case he needed to make a quick getaway, though he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“You have another witness?” Nicholas asked, feigning surprise.
“Yes,” Katherine replied as Ned took his seat. “There is someone here who has firsthand information about the robbery at the gristmill–and more. I think you’ll find the story interesting, yet disturbing in its chilling details.” As she turned and looked behind her, everyone stared in the same direction, eager to hear from the mysterious individual. “You may come forward now,” she gently beckoned.
Slowly emerging from the crowd inside the front entryway was a short woman in a plain, gray dress with a knitted shawl draped over her shoulders and a kerchief tied about her head. The room went silent as she walked up the center aisl
e, her shoulders slightly stooped while she held a handkerchief to her mouth as if recovering from a cold. She appeared thoroughly nondescript, having seamlessly blended in with the others and drawing no attention to herself until now. When the woman reached the point directly across from Katherine, she stopped, straightened her shoulders and lowered the handkerchief from her face. And though several stunned people close by recognized her instantly, only when she removed her head covering and looked around did the entire room finally realize that it was Adelaide Cooper. All were astonished, none more so than Zachary Farnsworth. He locked a hardened stare upon her, momentarily paralyzed by the sight of the gray haired woman who countered his gaze with steel blue eyes that burned with such fearlessness and vigor that it caused him to momentarily look away. But nobody observed Farnsworth’s moment of distress as they were focused upon Adelaide, all eager to hear her story.
“Where’ve you been?” someone shouted.
“Shhh!” chided another. “She’ll speak when she’s ready.”
Upon seeing familiar faces, Adelaide smiled as a sense of relief and serenity enveloped her. She was happy to be home again and unafraid, ready to help put an end to Farnsworth’s fraudulent hold upon the village. After signaling Katherine to take her seat and offering a brief acknowledgment to Nicholas, she began her story.
“I’m guessing that I was the last person you expected to see here tonight,” she said with good humor. “And as to where I’ve been, well that is quite a captivating story. But first you must know this, my friends. Everything that happened to me is connected to the troubles that plagued Nicholas Raven.” A buzz of speculation swept across the room as everyone wondered what juicy bits of information Adelaide was about to reveal. “There is more of a foul nature behind what has gone on in Kanesbury than meets the eye,” she said. “The wizard Caldurian was only the beginning of your problems.”
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 192
