No sooner had he gotten him tied up when Harmon started to come to. The killer had the nerve to mouth off, but Adam didn’t let it rattle him.
“You know that friend of yours,” said Harmon, lifting his face from the floor to try and look at Adam. “He never even saw it coming. We was sitting at his table playing cards.”
“You be quiet,” said Adam. “I don’t want to hear another word come out of your mouth.”
“See, I figured he had a winning hand, but I don’t much like losing.”
“And yet look at you there,” said Adam. He kneeled down and glared at him. “You’re tied up just like a hog waiting for the slaughter. Isn’t it funny how quickly your situation can change?”
Harmon let out an ungodly scream, either out of sheer desperation or in an attempt to unnerve Adam.
“You might as well settle down,” Adam said.
He got up and walked into the little area with the writing desk. He found a book to read, then brought it and the desk chair into the bedchamber, where he sat with his feet propped up on the hearth to keep an eye on the prisoner.
After about fifteen minutes he was relieved to hear Martin hollering outside. “Fletcher! Hey, Fletcher! You in there?”
Adam went to the window in the upstairs entryway and opened it. He called down to his friend, “Get on up here—use the back door.” He motioned around to the other side of the house.
Within a few seconds Martin was in the house and running up the stairs.
“Where are you?” he called out.
“In here,” said Adam.
Martin observed the scene. He saw Harmon hog-tied on the floor and Adam sitting in the chair next to him with a book in his hand called The Bruised Reed.
“Good God Almighty!” Martin exclaimed. “What did you do?”
“I caught him,” said Adam. “Bound him up and got him ready for when you arrived.”
“How did you know I would be here?” said Martin.
“Because. I told Boaz if I wasn’t back in an hour to send somebody. I knew you’d come. And anyway, if you didn’t show up shortly, I’d have just dragged his sorry arse down the stairs and dragged him back to town myself. I’m mad enough I near about believe I could do it.”
“Oh well I’m almost sorry I came, then,” Martin joked.
Adam put the book back on the shelf and then went over and motioned for Martin to help him pick up Harmon to bring him down the stairs.
They carried him out of the house, pulled the door to—but couldn’t lock it, since Harmon had picked the lock and they had no key—then threw him in the back of the horse cart. They went by Constable Squires’s house to let him know they’d gotten the fugitive, then carried him, still bound and tied, to the gaol, where the constable untied him and locked him inside.
After that, Adam and Martin returned to the warehouse with a great sense of relief to bring the news that Adam had caught the killer.
Emmanuel was glad to hear it, and Boaz patted Adam on the back. “Well done, boy. I thought you were a fool for going over there by yourself, but it seems like you handled it all just fine. To be honest, though, I’m surprised you didn’t kill Harmon yourself right there.”
“I’ll tell you,” said Adam, “I’m like Emmanuel. I want to see him face justice. If it had come right down to it, I wouldn’t have hesitated to do whatever was necessary to defend my life, but he turned out to be easier to disable than I expected. He’s really not much of a threat without that knife in his hand.”
“Still, it was brave of you to rush in there like that, Fletcher,” said Martin. “And I’m sure Mr. Cherry will want to reward you somehow when his family gets back from Tortola.”
“Eh, I don’t care about any of that.” Adam shrugged. “You know, it was bad enough that Harmon was a killer, and that he’d fooled us all, but I don’t know if I’d have gone after him like that if he hadn’t killed Ed Willis. I’d have probably just left it to the authorities.”
“Well, I for one am glad you caught him,” said Boaz. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Martin laughed. “That’s only because you weren’t in Havana.”
Boaz rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Oh, sure. I forgot.”
“Ed’s part of the family here,” said Adam. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of letting him get away with taking him from us.”
And part of the family he was. Adam thought about how much his “family” had grown since he had come on board at Rogers’s Shipping Company. Up until the day he first started working in the warehouse, his whole family, his whole world, had been wrapped up in the Topsail Tavern, but now he considered not only his biological relations as his family but all of the men at the shipping company, as well as the Martin family. And he thanked God for them all. He would bring to justice anyone who would do any of them harm, by any means necessary.
Chapter Thirty-Four
IT WAS THE WEEK BEFORE Christmas. Adam and Martin were on their way to Laney Martin’s estate for a special dinner. Adam noticed Martin seemed pensive. He realized he hadn’t thought much about his friend’s ailment since they got back from Bath.
“You seem awfully quiet. Everything alright?”
Martin tsked and said, “You and your questions!”
“You’re my friend,” said Adam. He paused and thought for a moment, then said, “You know, you’re like a big brother to me. I just want to know whether or not you’re fine.”
Martin sighed. “Ah, Fletcher. My physical state? I reckon I’m doing right much better in that respect. It’s my mind, though, that’s givin me all kinds of trouble.”
Adam wrinkled up his face. “How do you mean?”
“Well…” Martin took a deep breath and sighed again. “When you been a certain way for as long as you can remember, well, that’s just who you are, ain’t it?”
“I reckon so,” said Adam. But he really had no idea what Martin was getting at.
“And then something happens and it makes you start wonderin—wonderin if you maybe ought to change, but then you just know deep down that you prob’ly can’t. ’Cause in the end it’s just who you are.”
Adam cocked his eyebrow in skepticism at Martin. “Is this about you thinking that you ought to learn some self-control when it comes to women?”
“Well, see, that’s the problem. What I think I might ought to do, and what I think I’m likely to do—well, they’re two different things.”
“Martin Smith!” Adam exclaimed. “I don’t understand you at all. A week ago you were worried you could have the pox. By the grace of God you didn’t. Is it really that hard to see this whole situation as a second chance for you to try and straighten yourself out?”
“I know it’s a second chance, but I don’t know that it matters.” He shrugged. “I don’t really see myself changing, and to tell you the truth it makes me sad to even think about it.”
“I don’t know what to tell you then,” said Adam, laughing. “Sounds to me like you’ve resigned yourself to having the self-control of a stray dog.”
“Don’t pass judgment on me, Fletcher,” Martin said. “You ain’t never even tasted the fruit, so you don’t have the foggiest idea what it would be for me to stop enjoying it. Imagine the finest thing you’ve ever eaten, then being told you won’t be able to have it ever again.”
“But nobody’s telling you that you can’t ever have it again.” Adam thought about exactly how he would say what it was that he wanted to say. “See, what some men do—in case you haven’t heard—is they do have fruit as much as they want, only they only pluck it from their own garden. They don’t go around eating strange fruit from any old place. Isn’t that better, after all? When you have your own garden and your own fruit, you can have it right there and ready for you when you want it. And the other great advantage is you don’t have to worry about any other strangers eating your fruit. It’s only for you.” He grinned at Martin.
Martin wri
nkled his brow and looked at Adam. “For someone who’s never even had fruit before, it sure does seem like you’ve given right much thought to having your own garden full of it.”
Adam tipped his head to the side and chuckled. “Well, just look at it like this: when I finally do have my own little piece of earth where I can plant my garden, I’ll be ready to cultivate it and enjoy all the fruits of my years of planning and labor.”
“Fine,” said Martin. “But if you’ve got it in mind for my cousin to be your gardenin partner, you might as well get your mind off of that and instead think about all those other things you’ll need to do before you ever even think about plantin.”
Adam turned beet red, and he threw his palm over his mouth and rubbed at his freshly shaven cheeks to conceal the fact that he was trying hard not to smile. Martin mischievously raised his eyebrows and gave a quick little wink and nod, and made a clicking sound.
Adam didn’t say another word until they got to Laney’s house. He couldn’t stop smiling, but he was too embarrassed to talk. He hoped that Martin wouldn’t refer to fruit or gardens at the dinner party, or he might just fall right out of his chair.
WHEN THEY FINALLY GOT TO the house and were shown inside by Laney, Adam was impressed with how festive the place was decorated. Candles were lit and boughs of longleaf pine lined the windowsills.
Aunt Celie had spent days preparing everything for a special dinner. Cyrus’s wife, Violet, helped her, and they even enlisted Laney and Catherine to take on certain tasks.
“We gon’ make a cook outta you, chil’, if it’s the last thing I do,” Aunt Celie had said to Laney, as it was later relayed to Adam.
On the menu for the festive occasion were seafood chowder, venison pie, roast turkey, ham hock–seasoned string beans with boiled potatoes, corn pudding, oyster dressing, and stewed carrots. For dessert Aunt Celie had variety of sweet treats to offer—syllabubs, apple fritters, gingerbread cake, sugar cookies, and blueberry cobbler.
While Adam, Martin, Laney, Will, and Catherine waited for Aunt Celie and Violet to put the finishing touches on the dinner, Will used it as an opportunity to inquire about details regarding Harmon’s capture, as well as his expected fate.
Adam explained how everything had transpired the day he returned from Bath. Will then peppered him with questions about everything from his and Martin’s trip to New Bern and Bath, to how Adam came to figure out where Harmon had gone, and how he had trapped him.
“I’ve since learned that he and Reuben weren’t brothers at all,” said Adam. “It was just part of their charade. I’m told they came from up there in Halifax County.”
“Halifax County?” Will said. “Way up there?”
“Mm-hmm.” Adam nodded. “I don’t know if they’ve both always been there, but that’s where they’ve spent the most time over the last few years. They’ve both gotten into all kinds of trouble up there, and around Bertie and Edgecombe Counties, but this little highwaymen scheme was the first time they had ever worked together.”
“I reckon that explains why they didn’t look a bit alike,” said Martin.
“Exactly,” Adam agreed. “And apparently they’ve left a whole string of robbery victims along the way. And the incident up near Handcock and Slocomb Creeks with the Dudleys was not the first murder they’d committed—or maybe I should say it wasn’t the first murder Harmon committed. He did kill that shopkeeper in Paxon’s scheme. As far as the authorities know, that was the first. At least they’ve not heard tell of any others that fit the pattern.”
“Seems strange that a man would just become a killer like that,” Laney remarked. “Robbery is bad enough, but I can’t help but wonder what made him turn so evil.”
“I would suppose,” said Will, “that once Harmon had killed that shopkeeper, it hardened him. Maybe he figured after that he didn’t have anything to lose. From there he could carry out whatever wicked scheme his diabolical mind could contrive—robbery, murder, even rape.”
“Oh!” gasped Laney. She looked horrified at the thought.
“No doubt his crimes are done with now,” said Adam. “You can be sure that when he goes to trial he’ll be judged fairly and found guilty. The hangman’s noose is the only thing he has to look forward to in the New Year.”
“What about the servant girl in New Bern?” Laney asked. “Do they know whether or not Harmon and his accomplice are responsible for that crime?”
“No, they aren’t,” said Adam. “Penelope Wilson is an apprentice girl, you know, and she had apparently caught the eye of the son of her master. He had taken her in his carriage under the pretext of doing some errand but then attempted to take liberties with the poor girl and left her on the side of the road when she fought back. She had been too scared to tell the authorities who was responsible, but the driver evidently came forward.”
Laney’s eyes grew huge in shock at that news.
“Gracious!” Catherine winced. “The time cannot come soon enough when we can be done talking about all of this.” She put a protective hand over her round belly. “We’re bringing a child into this world, Will, and it grieves me terribly to think too much of its wickedness. I’m overwhelmed with worry for the evils that our babe might have to face.”
Will tenderly took his wife’s hand and smiled in an effort to comfort her. “I understand. The days are evil,” he said, “but you know as well as I there’s really nothing new under the sun.”
Catherine sighed. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said Adam. “I’m done talking about all of this. Anyway, it’s the Christmas season, so we’ve got greater things to be thankful for.”
“Yes, we do,” said Laney.
At that moment Aunt Celie rang a little bell from the dining room to let them all know that the table was ready with the sumptuous repast they had prepared.
After moving into the dining room, they all sat down, Will said the blessing, and they dug in to the feast.
They were all enjoying the meal and light conversation. Adam felt a tremendous sense of relief that everything was well and truly back to normal—and just in time for Christmas.
The previous year, although he and Laney had become better acquainted after the situation with Rasquelle, they still didn’t know each other well enough that Laney would invite him to her house for a Christmas supper—even if it was still a few days before Christmas. Here he was, wearing fine clothes—his own, not ones that he had to borrow—and he felt exceedingly thankful that everything was starting to come together.
And then it happened.
Catherine said, “Spring will be here before we know it.”
“Indeed,” Laney agreed. “And my new little niece or nephew! I can’t wait!”
“You know,” said Martin, “y’all are right. It does seem like spring gets here in no time after Christmas. It’ll soon be time for planting, won’t it?”
Adam kicked Martin under the table. Martin just took another bite of string beans and grinned at him.
“Indeed it will,” said Catherine. “I’ve always enjoyed working in the garden—well, the harvesting part, anyway.” She laughed. “Have you fellows ever done any gardening?” she asked Adam and Martin.
“Every chance I get,” said Martin, before taking a giant bite of a dinner roll.
Adam shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I have. I’d like to try it someday, though.” Adam grinned at Martin, pleased with himself for adeptly navigating this tricky conversation.
“You really ought to try your hand at it first chance you get,” said Catherine. “You might really take to it.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” said Adam. “But Emmanuel still has work for me to do. He keeps me right busy. I don’t reckon I’ll get to enjoy any gardening until I’ve finished my apprenticeship and gotten my own little piece of land.”
“Oh, Adam,” Laney said, “if you ever want to try your hand at planting a garden,
you’re welcome to come do it here. We’ve got good, fertile soil.”
Adam swallowed hard and discreetly looked at Martin like he would kill him if he said another word.
“You hear that, Fletcher?” said Martin. “You may be well on your way to establishing your own little garden after all.”
In a blessed moment of relief, Will changed the subject.
“Adam, tell us. When will you come to New Bern again? I regret the fact your last two visits there were so rushed.”
“I’m not sure when,” he answered. “I’d like to come back when it’s warm out, though. I heard there’s a big racing ground north of town. I’d love to see a proper race.”
“Come anytime from mid-March onward,” said Will. “Saturdays are racing days, so you’ll want to plan your visit to include one of those.”
Adam nodded enthusiastically. “I’d love that.”
“You come, too,” Will said to Martin. “I know you love to wager on the horses.”
“I thought you said I gamble too much,” Martin countered.
“Of course you do,” said Laney, “but horse racing is refined. It’s a gentleman’s sport—not like those awful card games you like to play.”
Adam and Martin exchanged glances. They were both thinking about Ed Willis.
Laney must’ve realized it, because she quickly said, “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” said Adam.
“Oh, one other thing,” said Will. “I’ve heard Governor Tryon is nearly ready to hire an architect to build his palace in New Bern. And do you know where it will be?”
Adam shook his head.
“Less than a block away from our estate! It will be quite a thing to see such a fine home go up from the ground to completion. They say it will be a remarkable residence—one of the best in the colonies.”
“Wonder what folks in the backcountry will think about all that,” Adam said. “I’ve heard they’re already agitated over a lack of any real representation out that way.”
“There’s no telling,” said Will, “but having a proper governor’s mansion in New Bern will be good for this region, I am sure of it.”
Murder in the Marsh Page 19
