Innocent as Sin

by C. A. Asbrey

  “Constance.” Clancy Fox dropped his napkin on the table and gallantly stood, along with Nat and Jake. “How lovely to see you here. What are you doing out in this cold weather?”

  “I was coming back from the church with mother when she thought she saw you. You didn’t tell me you were eating out.”

  Clancy smiled to the older woman wearing a black straw hat adorned with an extravagant hatpin standing by the door. “Mrs. Williams? Come over. Why are you standing there?”

  “I don’t want to interrupt your dinner.” She sniffed, her blue eyes scanning the table. “You didn’t say you had guests.”

  “Because I didn’t, until now. Please, let me introduce you. This is Miss MacKay and her colleagues, Nat and Jake. This is my intended, Constance Williams, and her mother, Mrs. Williams.”

  “Colleagues? First names already. It all seems extremely informal.” The mother honed straight in on Abigail. “What kind of woman has colleagues?”

  “A pleasure to meet you.” Nat cut in at the sight of Abigail’s eyes narrowing. “We’re stuck here with all the snow and are helping the sheriff with the body discovered in the church hall. We have professional experience which may assist him.”

  The mother’s lips sealed disapprovingly. “Really? A body?”

  “Yes, really,” Abigail said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

  “Are you suspects?”

  “No, Mrs. Williams. We’re witnesses.”

  “I’ve been helping the women who are at the school house.” Constance turned to Abigail, her cold eyes examining every thread, hair, and gesture. “I haven’t seen you there. That’s where the stranded women have been put up.”

  “You wouldn’t have. I haven’t been staying there.” Abigail smiled sweetly. “I’ve been staying with friends.”

  “Oh? Who?” asked Mrs. Williams.

  “Old friends. Have you and Dr. Fox been engaged long? You make a lovely couple. Quite the thing. You’ll have beautiful children, I’m sure.”

  “Six months,” Connie answered. “He didn’t tell me about you.”

  “That’s because he only met us this morning and we’ve been talking business. Miss MacKay is with us.” Nat cast a look at a hungry Jake staring at his cooling steak. “I’m sure he’ll tell you everything soon. We mustn’t keep you. I’m sure you want your dinner, too.”

  “Good to meet you,” Jake said.

  The group silently smiled at the Williams women until Clancy dropped a gentle kiss on his fiancée’s cheek.

  She pursed her lips. “I’ll drop in tomorrow morning. Don’t work too hard.” Constance turned back to Abi. “All those trapped people won’t feed themselves. Maybe you’d like to help us? We need as many hands as we can get to chop all those vegetables.”

  Abigail’s patience for her digging was running out. “I’d love to, but I’ll be busy tomorrow chopping body parts with Dr. Fox. A corpse was found this morning, and I’m assisting him.”

  “Oh!” Constance paled. “You’re a nurse?”

  Abigail ignored the question. “It’s been lovely meeting you, Miss Williams. I must insist we return to our meal, now. It’s getting cold.” She picked up her cutlery. “Have a lovely evening.”

  Constance nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Clarence.” She glanced over her shoulder as she briefly hesitated at the door before it tinkled closed.

  “I’m sorry about that.” Abigail shrugged. “She doesn’t like me much. I should dress as a boy and get back to the church again. I don’t want to cause you any trouble in your private life. I’m less noticeable in disguise.”

  “I won’t hear of it.” Clarence resumed eating. “She’ll have to learn to be less possessive. It’s her mother. She’s insecure. She questions every woman she sees me with. It gets wearing, if I’m being honest.”

  Nat and Jake exchanged a glance.

  “I saw that.” Clarence grinned. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “You do?” Nat cut into a lump of venison. “My sincere apologies. I’ve never been one for clingy women.”

  “I’m sorry, Doc. She’s a lovely woman, and this pair need to shut the hell up.” Jake cut in. “It ain’t like you’ve had much choice in women, clingy or not, Nat.”

  “True.” Nat tilted his head. “We never stay anywhere long enough.”

  “I mean it, Doctor,” Abigail said. “This is why I dressed as a boy. It saves all these complications. People see a woman and immediately wonder which man to associate her with, whether as a brother, father or lover. I can get a hostile reaction from women who think I’m muscling in on their territory. I think Albert needs to make a return in the morning, especially as your housekeeper will be around.”

  “How will I explain that to Constance when she comes around?”

  “I’m staying with friends and you forget the name. Albert can be the little brother I left to do the donkey work.”

  Clarence frowned. “And what if she asks Albert?”

  Her generous lips twitched into a lopsided smile. “Oh, Albert doesn’t speak English. Let her ask whatever she wants.”

  ♦◊♦

  The chilled wind cut through the sinuses and bit at the skin of the four men riding their horses along the railway line. The whole scene faded to a monochrome tableau broken only by an occasional glimpse of steaming chestnut horseflesh or the ruddy nipped cheeks appearing over the scarves wrapped around their faces for protection. The bone-numbing rawness grew as they went farther and farther from town, but they made sure they kept a sharp eye out for animals. The wolves were getting closer to town, driven by sheer hunger to investigate any food source in the arctic landscape. They announced their presence every night in their plaintive moon song under frigid skies. The bridles jingled, the snow muffling the normal echoes of the hard landscape, creating a world which invaded every sense with nature’s indifference to the frailty of flesh.

  “What was it you said about not doin’ that job in the Doc’s office?” grumbled Jake.

  “Yeah, like you’d have let Abi come out here without you,” Nat said.

  Sheriff Gibson turned to Nat. “Is that the way the wind blows with her? He’s got a thing goin’ on? I can’t say I blame him now that I’ve seen her in women’s clothes.”

  Nat avoided the man’s eyes, looking straight ahead. “Nope. He’s real protective of her. We both are. She’s a fine woman. She ain’t like that.”

  “Oh, well, I didn’t mean nuthin’ personal. I meant she’s a looker when she ain’t—” He cast a glance at the telegrapher who rode along behind and lowered his voice. “—got up like a boy.”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “What’re you two whispering about?” yelled the telegrapher. “I can’t hear back here.”

  Sheriff Gibson turned and called behind him. “Nuthin’, Jim. We were wonderin’ when we’d find this broken wire.”

  “I dunno what I’m bein’ dragged out here for.” Jim’s voice dripped with annoyance. “If’n he can tap into the wire, he knows enough to send the message.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve never met him before, Jim. I gotta make sure I’m really dealin’ with the Pinkerton Agency. You’re the only one who can tell me what’s in the message and who it’s bein’ sent to.”

  “Sheesh, Ben. I ain’t no lawman, but if’n I was tryin to dispose of a body I wouldn’t put it on the mattress next to me and then wait around to talk to the law about how to find the killer. Of course he’s a Pinkerton. Who else could he be?”

  “I’m just checkin’, Jim. I’m a cautious man. I won’t need you when we come back for more messages when I’ve checked things out.”

  “Well, thank the good Lord for that. I’m freezing my dilberries off.”

  “We all are, Jim.” Jake pointed to a post where a wire dangled impotently before it disappeared off under a covering of snow. “I think we might have found it.”

  “Yup, I think we have. It should be relatively easy to cobble up a temporary fix, too. Jim ga
ve me a couple of climbing spikes and a belt from the office.” Nat caught the trailing end in gloved hands and dragged it out of the snow; hand over hand, until he held the end in his fist.

  He unwound the cable he had wrapped around his waist. Deft fingers knotted the ends together, ensuring the wires made contact. Another trailing piece was then wrapped around the joint before catching the joint in a huge bulldog clip.

  He crunched through the snow, slipping and slithering on the siding before righting himself and reaching the pole. He tossed a thick leather belt around both the pole and himself before he attached the spikes to the sole of his boots and thrust them into the icy wood, foot over foot while leaning on the belt until he reached to top of the pole.

  “Damn it.” He fiddled with the screw on top of the ceramic junction box. “This is frozen solid.”

  He removed his glove, cursing as it fluttered to the ground like a dead bird. He blew on his fingers and worked at the screw until he could eventually remove the cover. From there it was an easy matter to slip a rubber pad out from his breast pocket to drag the cable and connect it. He quickly replaced the cover and slithered down the pole, blowing at his freezing hand to warm it. “Where’d my glove land?”

  “It’s fixed?” asked the sheriff.

  “It’s only temporary, but it should hold up until you can get an engineer out.” Nat slipped on the glove handed to him by his uncle. He walked over to the wire still connected by the bulldog clip which dangled to the ground. “It’s all yours, Jim. Get that telegraph key connected and send the message. Use this rubber pad to hold it. There can be up to a hundred and sixty volts running through the wire now that the circuit’s restored.”

  Jim stared at the wire dangling from the bulldog clip. “That’s it? You connect the machine? It kinda makes you wonder why anyone pays.”

  “Yup.” Nat tried not to look at his uncle’s amused face. “I guess you’ve got to know Morse code, too, though.”

  “Best not tell old Ma Gibbons about this. She’s so tight she’d be shimmyin’ up the pole four times a day.” The lawman laughed.

  “All connected.” Jim looked at the sheriff. “Ya got that letter you want sendin’ to the Pinkertons, Ben?”

  They all watched the man’s nimble fingers dance up and down on the key. He paused. “Frozen body?” asked the telegrapher.

  “Don’t ask,” the lawman muttered.

  “As long as we get back before we end up being frozen, too,” Jim replied. The fingers clattered on for a few more minutes until he stood and disconnected the telegraph key. “So, what now? Do we pull this loose wire free?”

  “Best not to.” Nat grabbed it in the rubber mat. “It might break the connection. Jake, can you find me a stone or something heavy?”

  “Will this do?” Jake shook the snow from a stick.

  “Perfect.” Nat tied it to the loose wire before pitching it high into the air until the cable settled into a huge loop high over the pole in the air. “We couldn’t leave it dangling, either. It’s too high to do any damage, now. Let’s get back. There’s a hot bath with my name on it.”

  ♦◊♦

  Constance Williams strolled into the doctor’s consulting room, her knock no more than cursory as she opened the door as she walked straight in. “Clarence? Mrs. France told me you had no more patients.” She glanced around the room, her brown eyes settling on the ‘boy’ sitting at the table doing something with a magnifying glass. “Miss MacKay isn’t here?”

  “No, she left earlier. She’s gone back to her friends.” The doctor walked over and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, thanks. Who’s this?”

  “That’s Albert. Miss MacKay’s brother. He’s helping me with a fiddly job.” He smiled.

  She swept over and examined the little piles the ‘boy’ sorted through. “Hello, Albert.”

  Abigail glanced at her and smiled. “Ciamar a tha sibh.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Oh, I should have warned you, Constance. Albert doesn’t speak English. His sister gave him his directions before she left.”

  Her brow creased. “His sister does. What language is that?”

  Clancy glinted with amusement at Abigail. “Oh, a heathen Scottish tongue. Yes, his sister is well-educated. That’s why she helped me out. Albert’s learning English, now he’s come to the States.”

  “I see.” She trailed her fingers lazily over the workbench. “How did you meet her?”

  “Through the sheriff. Have you finished at the schoolhouse for the day?”

  “Yes, mother’s still there, though.” She peered at Abigail while she carried on sorting grains. “He has long lashes for a boy. Much longer than his sister’s.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Yes, he’s going to be rather good-looking when he grows up. He’s like his sister, but those coarse features work better on a man.”

  “Did you want something?” asked a frowning Clancy.

  “Just to ask you to dinner. Daddy says he hasn’t seen you in ages.”

  “Sure, when?”

  “How about tonight? We do own a hotel, so we can arrange a dinner at any time.”

  Clancy considered for a moment. “Yes. Why not? What time?”

  “Eightish?” Constance lifted the cloth on a jar and shrieked. “Oh, Clancy. You should have warned me. That’s horrible.”

  “It’s a heart, Constance. You know what I do. If you don’t like those things, don’t go poking around in my surgery.”

  “It’s disgusting.”

  “It’s evidence. The man was stabbed through the heart. I have to examine it.”

  “He was stabbed. What’s to know?”

  “The type of weapon, the force required, the trajectory—”

  “I don’t see the point. He was stabbed. He’s dead.”

  “There’s more to it than that, Constance. We can tell all manner of things, like how long it took for him to die, and the type of weapon helps tell us what type of person killed him. This was a long, thin weapon, and unusual.”

  Constance’s brows met. “Can’t you take a mold to show what the weapon looks like? To make a model of it?”

  “No, a wound in flesh never matches a weapon exactly. Flesh stretches, people move and struggle. The body is also full of cavities which would fill with whatever material you try to pour into the wound. It’s only ever an estimation but we can be sure it was a thin implement, but we can’t make a mold to create an image of it.”

  “It all sounds pointless.” She stood on her toes and gave Clancy a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you later. ’Bye, Albert.”

  Abigail raised her head and nodded at her waving hand. Clancy turned back to her as the door closed behind his fiancée. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Those cracks about your looks. They’re totally unwarranted.”

  Her face broke into a smile. “It’s fine. I’m used to hearing all sorts of comments when I’m in disguise. She’s only doing it because she loves you.”

  “But still, it’s impolite. I’ll tell her I find it unattractive.”

  “That’s brave. Don’t do it on my account, though. I’m quite used to it. Her father owns the hotel?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s the biggest one in the county. They attract a lot of tourists in the summer to hunt and experience the West and the mountains. It’s built next to the hot water mineral springs, so people come for their health, too. They have a fine chef, a string quartet, an ice house, and a rose walk. They hold a poker tournament in the winter to carry them over the down season. That’s the main reason we have so many people stuck in town.”

  “It sounds wonderful. What a shame I never got to stay there. I suppose you have a built-in venue for your wedding celebrations.”

  “Definitely. Williams dotes on his daughter and would shoot me if I chose anywhere but the Regal Hotel for the wedding breakfast.” He sat opposite and folded his arms. “Speaking of ac
commodations, I hope you all slept better than the church floor.”

  “Oh, much better, thank you. Shouldn’t you tell the housekeeper you won’t be here for dinner?”

  “Ah, yes. I should.” He paused. “I’ve known Constance for three years now, and she can still surprise me. That question about the mold was really quite insightful, wasn’t it?”

  “For a squeamish person, it was surprising.” She put down her magnifying glass and stretched. “I expect she came to make sure you and Miss MacKay weren’t bonding over a cadaver.”

  “Probably. She hates it in here. She never comes in. The green eyed-monster huh?”

  Abigail nodded. “Yes. It’s best not to discuss anything else about the murder with anyone, though. You never know who she might talk to, and whether they might dispose of evidence because of it.”

  Clancy looked chastened. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. You weren’t to know. You’re new to this.” She stared at the little piles of granules. “I think I should be able to finish tomorrow. Is there enough to test? How do you know where to even start?”

  “Well, we can take it as a given those are brick dust and wood shavings, but it’s the granules I’m interested in. They look like an alkali metal nitrate. There’s a flame test I can do to find which one. Different metals produce different colored flames.”

  “I’d like to see that.” Abigail’s eyes widened in interest.

  “Then we’ll do it together tomorrow. Finding out what those grains are could tell us where the body was lying.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You look perished!”

  The men’s boots thumped against the door jamb as they shook off the snow. “If that means freezin’, I sure am, Abi.” Jake stumbled into the hallway and pulled off his coat. “Solid ice.”

  “How was your day?” asked Nat, wryly. “Warm and comfortable enough for you?”

  “Beautiful, thank you. But don’t try to make me feel guilty. I was perfectly prepared to go and deal with the telegraph. You insisted.”

  “Thank your lucky stars you didn’t. We were nearly five miles out of town before we found the break. It’s like the North Pole out there.” Nat gratefully accepted the mug of coffee she held out. “It’s sent, and a temporary fix has been rigged. The town should be able to communicate again.”