“I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were. I thought you were the men that broke into my house!”
“What? Men broke into your house? Who were they?”
“I didn’t see them. I heard them downstairs plundering and ran away before they saw me.”
The men accompanying the dray on the cemetery road to the hospital had agreed to keep quiet about all that they had seen amid the graves. This was Colonel Wyche’s daughter. They had better not say anything! The constables, told by their superiors the woman belonged to a prominent family and wandered away in a delirium, pledged not to report anything inconsistent with that. “In the delirium of fever, she became lost in the woods, finally injuring herself in the cemetery.” They were, however, curious about her story that men had broken into her house. They would have to investigate that before discounting it as a delusion. Laura’s fit of weeping subsided into whimpering as they neared the hospital. Stopping the procession briefly, and turning to the men assembled, the senior constable asked for their pledge they would not say a word – even to their wives – of what they had seen. To a man, they pledged their honor. They resumed the labor of duty, stepping up the pace as they moved on towards the lit rooms of the hospital.
On reaching the hospital, the men encountered a frantic Jane Morris Wyche running to meet them. The woman on the dray, they did not know well; but the woman approaching was the wife of their boss. Jane stopped short of touching Laura, but quickly walked alongside the dray until they had reached the uncompleted drive at the entrance to the hospital. Dr. Lowe told the authorities,
“The men searching the woods the neighbors searching the streets. And those railroad men that had remained behind to check for her return to the yards were converging in front of the hospital. Waiting alone on the lawn I directed the men to carry the woman to the operating room. The foreman of the upper yards waited in front of the hospital for the men that were ordered to follow the hapless woman when she escaped the yards. Those searching elsewhere cheered as the men from the cemetery came into sight. Ordering his men to return to their duties the foreman started walking back to the Old Union Depot to report.” Foreman Allen added,
“Now, the nine o’clock freight could be dispatched without a problem.”
Into this unfolding scene, the befuddled Doctor Everett entered at five minutes to nine. Approaching the entrance to the hospital he was met at the base of the steps by Doctor Lowe and two nurses rushing down the steps. They proceeded immediately to the operating room. He recalled,
“Jane’s gaze was riveted on the filthy bloody wet creature on the opposite side of the operating room. Laura was shivering uncontrollably with blood pouring so profusely from her gash that droplets fell around the chair in which she sat. Her nose ran continuously. With tightly closed eyes, she mumbled “I thought it was the Yankees” over and over. The other nurse in the room dabbed the blood running down her neck with a damp cloth. Mrs. Wyche unwilling to let family secrets be known, continued to perpetuate the tale that Laura was suffering from the delirium of a fever.”
When Colonel Wyche learned that Laura was at the hospital, he issued orders from the old Union Depot to dispatch the evening freight, then set out on foot to the hospital. He was now determined to send her away from Old Port. The events that unfolded during the few hours that Laura had fled her home had convinced him that something terrible could have happened to his ill-starred daughter. Despite his efforts – it was his sacred duty to protect her always – he was failing. How could he keep her safe? The men passing him on the road from the hospital recalled, he was running as if in a footrace. Midway on the dusty road between the upper yards and the hospital events collided again. Luke Allen, the railroad foreman, returning to the yards described what happened. Foreman Allen told the coroner’s jury.
“Colonel Wyche was running our way and passed us. We heard the first shot and turn around. Only twenty feet to our rear, we saw him stumble and fall forward. The man who shot him was standing over him, and then we saw him with our own eyes fire another shot into the Colonel. Then from behind us on our other side, there was another shot. This time, from Mr. Cassidy. We fell to the ground as these two men were shooting at each other. It really didn’t take more than a few seconds by my estimate, but it felt like half an hour! Mr. Cassidy brought the varmint down with two shots, one in the gut and the second in the head!” Dr. Lowe reported,
“Then the railroad men on the road, wasted little time getting Colonel Wyche up Hospital Hill. Six men finally joined in bringing him to the hospital. He was only half a block away when he was shot. The men who brought him to the steps of the hospital and the dumbfounded Doctor Everett were not correct about Wyche being dead. On closer examination, Everett found a weak pulse that trailed off after a few minutes.” Allen said,
“The constables, who were still on the hospital grounds, rushed to the site of the gunshots. There they found Mr. Cassidy standing over the body of the murderer. One said, ‘Are you hurt, Mr. Cassidy?’ He said, ‘It looks like one grazed me right here.’” Doctor Everett was more exact,
“A bullet lodged in his left deltoid. He did not feel the pain until the constables asked him if he was hurt. The blood from the wound soaked the area of his sleeve where the bullet ripped through the coat.”
“I’ll take you up to the hospital,” said the Constable. Another asked, “What about this fellow? He looks dead to me.” Allen continued his testimony thusly:
“We saw it with our own eyes! Lord knows we did for a fact. The coward there on the ground came out of nowhere and shot the Colonel... and when he was lying helpless in the dirt, shot him again in the back! Then this big fellow said,
“Detective Cassidy… I’m with the Sheriff’s Office.”
“Like I was saying, this big fellow, Mr. Cassidy, drew his pistol and shouted, ‘Stop where you are!’”
[Cassidy was not sure that he said that, but Mr. Allen and his companions were sure he did.]
“Then they battled it out, shot for shot, and the varmint got the worse. I asked, “Are you sure he’s dead?” The constable said,
“It looks like that, but the only way to know for sure is to get a doctor down here. There are only two of them up there on the hill right now, and a third is on his way. Help him? They are busying themselves with decent folk right now. He can wait for Doctor Lovejoy and that niece of his – that’s one strange lady if you ask me. Dead? Looks dead to me… No, this fellow is on his way to the devil’s barbecue as we speak.”
The funeral was solemn, and the Reverend Thomas A. Sykes prepared a magnificent eulogy. Considering that Colonel Wyche was the second most recent member of his flock – the first being a newborn – the task involved only a little research. His life’s accomplishments were known to all. The third was Jane Morris Wyche, the Colonel’s wife, who formally joined the congregation several weeks before her wedding. Doctor Phillip Greene served as an honorary pallbearer alongside officers of the railroad company. The long procession to the cemetery on that cold, overcast Tuesday was led by the band of the Old Port Volunteers followed by the uniformed Volunteers themselves. At the cemetery, all admired the splendid location of the plot: high on a hill and framed by noble oaks. The obelisk marking his grave so well-known today would not be placed there for several years. The inscription celebrated his final moments, “His last act was one of bravery and fulfillment of duty.”
Doctor Lowe was also in the funeral procession accompanying Mrs. Greene. Present also at the funeral was Howard Chance, the man who would assume the position held by Colonel Wyche with the Central Railroad. He would also inherit all his former superior’s unsolved problems, and perhaps, make them worse.
Mr. Thomas accompanied the widow Wyche. Her father, a close friend of the Colonel from the Mexican War days, did not attend, nor did her younger sister. Jane was on the outs with them. Shortly after the Colonel had married Jane, he had appointed Thomas executor of his estate. He did so out of a concern that Jane would not properly
care for Laura after his death. The Colonel could sense his wife chafing under the burden of the everlasting responsibility of looking after his naïve and eccentric daughter. They called themselves “sisters” but Jane was being forced to act the part of the mother. Thomas despised Jane. He thought her to be arrogant deceptive irresponsible and manipulative. Like everybody he adored the sweet-natured Laura. Her gift for remembering everything, and the entertaining stories she created, fascinated him. On this day, however, his mind was occupied with his perennial conundrum. Mr. Cassidy the hero that brought down the diabolical assassin had set back his quest to find the swindlers who he now believed to hold positions of power in the state government. After bringing Colonel Wyche into his confidence, his knee, but reluctant ally had been gunned down before they could join forces. However, he was almost certain that Wyche possessed the contents of the pouch. Since he doubted that his adversaries knew of this, the bonds and documents might as well stay put for the time being. Unknown to Thomas, the encoded document that led to the swindlers was also in the Colonel’s possession before he died. There also was a second copy. It was in Laura’s mind thanks to Mrs. Greene.
The person who could not attend the Colonel’s funeral mattered the most, his beloved daughter. The injuries she suffered in the cemetery were serious. She had broken ribs and a bone fragment had damaged her lung. Once learning that her father was dead, she withdrew into herself. The imaginary friend from her childhood, she called Susan, took her place. The doctors at County Hospital were out of their waters.
For Old Port, the death of the murderer meant the end of the terror that gripped the city in January. Doctor Lovejoy disagreed. The body of the murderer contained no clues to his identity. Nobody in the region recognized him. When a line sketch of his face was published in the state newspapers, the authorities received no useful information. The man was taller than average, in fit condition, and likely in his late twenties. He had a sizable amount of cash in pocket, but no wallet. The owners of the hotels and boarding houses in Old Port had never seen him. There was nothing special about his clothes, all mass manufactured and available anywhere. Doctor Lovejoy took photographs of the corpse before turning it over to the county for burial in the potter’s field.
The death of the murderer also meant an end to the armed guards protecting Mrs. Greene and Laura after a week had past. Mr. Thomas protested the early removal of the guards. Jane argued that after their dismal performance on the night that Laura slipped away from the house, keeping them on any longer was a waste of money. She thought that Laura was safe in the hospital. Mrs. Greene, considering her recently enhanced reputation, seemed capable of taking care of herself. This pronouncement would prove true in short order. Mr. Thomas was correct. The danger had not passed.
****
Friday, February 17, 1882. When Doctor Greene arrived home around six o’clock on Friday the Seventeenth of February, Judith was nowhere to be found. Regardless of what she had to do on any day, there was always a meal waiting on the stove for Phillip hot or cold. Only during her recent impromptu train excursion with Laura was she not able to prepare supper for him. In that instance, however, Colonel Wyche had sent word she would be gone. On this day, there was no sign that a meal had even been started. Immediately, he set off in his buggy looking for her. None of her acquaintances had seen her, nor could he find her little two-wheeled gig parked outside any of her familiar haunts. After searching about town for several hours, he checked back home to see whether she had returned. He had been home only a few minutes when the front door flew open.
“Phillip!” Judith was draped in two heavy blankets completely soaked and supported by two young men from the wharves. “I’ve been shot!”
“Quickly! Bring her in, and one of you please get a fire going!”
They brought her to an armchair in the parlor. Then one of the young men set to stoking the coal stove.
“It’s my left leg Phillip! The bullet grazed it!”
“Let me take a look.”
When Doctor Greene lifted the blanket to reveal the wound to his wife’s leg, he found her bloody petticoat ripped, and a tourniquet wrapped around her leg above the wound.
“Goodness, this is deep! What’s your name son?”
“Albert sir, and this here is Norwood We work on the docks opposite the town where the old ferry docks.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“No, sir! We pulled her out of the river and tried to stop the bleeding.”
“It looks like you did a good job. Could you get my bag? I left it in the buggy.”
“Yes, sir!”
Albert ran outside to get Doctor Greene’s medical bag while Norwood continued to build the fire in the stove, but it was slow to start. Judith grabbed her husband’s sleeve, and said,
“She tried to drown me, that awful little witch!”
“Who?”
“I don’t know who! Did you find my Mr. Sugartooth? I can’t endure the thought of that poor little horse out there in this cold!”
“I’m sure he is fine. He’s a horse! We’ll look for him after you’re fixed up Good Lord! Right through, but not near an artery. It’s at a strange angle. We need to get you out of these soaking clothes and clean this wound.”
“Phillip, fetch something warm from my room. I don’t care what it is – and bring a fresh blanket if you please. I can change all by myself, if you gentlemen can give me some peace to do so!”
Doctor Greene quickly attended to her request. Then he took the young men into the hallway while she haphazardly changed into a heavy winter dress and then threw the fresh blanket around her shoulders. Her activity had started her wound bleeding afresh. She then called for the gentlemen to return.
“Please come back in and build up this fire!” All three returned. Phillip, do you want to know what happened to me?”
“Yes! Now, let me see that leg again.”
With great difficulty, Judith explained how she had gone over to the old Greene place about three in the afternoon to bring back a silver pocket watch she had left there in January. On leaving, she was met by a medium size woman with dark hair pointing a Colt revolver at her heart. She commanded Judith to return inside the house. Inside, Judith was told to sit at the old dining room table with her palms down on the table top without moving and looking straight ahead. The woman had taken a chair and sat behind her, presumably with the gun trained on the back of Judith’s head. Judith continued.
“She didn’t say a word! Not a word! Time felt like it had slowed to a stop! I expected her to shoot me at any moment. I wish that I could have seen her face but she wouldn’t let me budge! If I moved in the slightest she would place the barrel of the gun against the back of my head! When the room got dark, the woman told me to get up and leave the house through the front door. All along, the gun hidden under the lady’s cloak was pointed at my side.”
“Albert, there is some brandy on that table. Could you please pour a glass for her?”
“Yes, sir!”
“This is going to sting, Judith.”
Judith cringed as her husband poured disinfectant into her wound.
“Ouch! Good Lord! What are you doing to me Phillip?”
“Cleansing the wound! The brandy is coming.”
Albert gave her the glass of brandy. She downed the glass in a single gulp and handed it back to him.
“Pour her another, Albert.”
“As she forced me to walk down Commerce Street, I heard the clock in the market house strike six. She told me to walk south on River Street until we were beyond the docks. The moon was rising about that time. It seemed like it was twice its usual size. Then, she told me to walk down to this little rickety pier at the edge of town.”
Albert gave her the second glass of brandy. She did not drink it as fast as the first
“She ordered me to climb into this rowboat I could hardly see to get my footing! She had that Colt trained on me every minute I tell you! When in the boat, sh
e told me to raise my hands over my head, then took a length of chain from the inside of the boat and ran it around my waist tight – very tight – and locked it fast with a padlock. But she didn’t see me pull that special pin from my hair… Phillip! What are you doing? That-hurts!”
Norwood asked, “What happened next?”
“She told me to row out to the deep part of the river.” Albert told Dr. Greene,
“That’s past midway, the deepest part!”
“She was going to drown me! Nobody would ever know what had happened! I would disappear! … That chain was attached to something but I couldn’t see it. Luckily she couldn’t see that well either, the moon was just coming up.”
“Judith, be still!”
“She needed a lantern, but I suppose the risk of being seen was too great. However, it worked to my advantage! While I was making a good effort rowing, she didn’t see me working on the lock between strokes of the oar. Then she told me to stop rowing and get out of the boat I whipped that chain around and struck her on the side of the face. Then, almost in the same move, I lunged at her before she could gather back her wits. That’s when her gun went off! It didn’t hurt that bad immediately I was worked up. I beat her with the chain several times over and she lost the gun, but tried to fight back. Then, the boat capsized! I still had that chain wrapped around my hand. See the marks, Phillip!”
JUDITH GREENE: The Old Port Chronicles, Part 1 Page 13
