The Lexington House Murder
~ Chapter Six
Mailer
walked into the Lower Manhattan Constabulary well past the noon hour.
After pausing for directions he went up two steps at a time to the
second floor. A door of a small office off to the side read:
“Ichabod
Crane, Constable.” Mailer did not knock as the door was
partly
opened but was somewhat surprised to see, not Ichabod Crane behind
the desk, but a dark haired youth, not much more than a dozen years
old. Mailer frowned. “It says this is the office of Constable
Ichabod Crane. Can you tell me, lad, is Constable Crane
here?”
The boy stood up and came around the desk. He held out his
hand. “Yes, Constable Crane will be back directly, sir.
I’m
Jonathan, his assistant.” They shook hands.
“You’re the new
Magistrate here to help solve the Lexington crime, sir?”
“Well,
something like that.” Mailer sprawled into a large leather
chair in
front of the desk. “Where do I know you from? At
Crane’s house
this morning! I remember you. Are you his nephew or
something?”
“Not my nephew” Ichabod Crane stood in the doorway.
“But
good guess.”
He came forward and put his arm about
Jonathan’s shoulders. “Jonathan is our ward, and
soon to be our
adopted son.” Ichabod looked down at Jonathan’s
smile. “And the
most valuable associate I have ever known.” He gentled
ruffled
Jonathan’s hair. “He was invaluable to me in
solving that
multiple murder in Sleepy Hollow.” Crane sat down behind his
desk.
“Katrina too; she braved peril as well, to catch the
horseman.” Jonathan began to chew on a biscuit he had drawn
out
from a small basket.”
“Well, I am very impressed with
your family, Crane. Will your wife and son be attending the autopsy
as well?” Mailer grinned sarcastically. “Jonathan,
there’s a
good lad, have you another of those biscuits? I am famished.”
“Sorry, sir. This was the last. However I couldn’t
help
but notice, sir, you have something that looks like a biscuit coming
out of your pocket.”
Mailer frowned and drew out the
biscuit he had taken from Crane’s maid that morning. He had
forgotten. It was flattened and a bit crumbly, but Mailer seemed
quite satisfied and began munching away.
“Well, Crane, or
‘Cranes’ - plural; I did managed to get an
interview with Mrs.
Van Ernst, employer of the victim’s sister, Janelle
Washington.
Shall I read you my notes?”
“Ah, Janelle. I told you
about her, Jonathan. Poor girl. She is very pretty. Do you not agree,
Mailer?” When he drew no response, Crane asked innocently,
“You
are a bachelor, are you not?”
“For now,” Mailer pulled
out his notebook and flipped through the pages as if thoroughly
absorbed in finding his notes.
Jonathan and Ichabod exchanged
a look. Together they turned back to Mailer.
Mailer fidgeted
with his notebook. Then in his chair.
“Yes, she is pretty!
Extremely pretty! And if you will ever allow me to read you my notes,
we might solve this case, before I am too old to
marry!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Katrina stood before her large mirror and
washing
basin. The water was very warm and the scent of the lavender soap
made her almost heady. She felt languorous and indulgent as she
washed her neck and shoulders with the warm cloth. She had felt these
feelings more strongly now that she was having a child. Some days she
felt like smothering the whole world in kisses.
Other days
she thought about kissing only one person. Ichabod. Katrina knew that
she was a pretty girl. She had many men interested in her before
Ichabod and even before poor Brom. She knew that Ichabod thought she
was beautiful. And she felt the same about him. She never tired of
staring at her beloved’s face. She reached over to dry
herself off
with a cloth. She then re-tied the dressing gown about her and lay on
the bed.
Katrina had been a maiden when she married. In this
very bed, on their wedding night, Ichabod had been sweet and very
gentle. Rather pleased that he was able to deflower her so quickly
and thus prevent her from feeling any unnecessary pain. When it was
over, and he held her in his arms, she was struck about what an odd
sensation it had been. To have a part of a man within her. Part of
Ichabod had been inside her body. There had been pain, yes. But she
when she cried out, Ichabod only adhered to her more tightly, guiding
her movements so that they moved as one. And then the quickening of
his breath against her cheek. He said her name just once, and then
groaned. Suddenly the discomfort left her. And Ichabod quickly rolled
away to her side and embraced her. He told Katrina how much he loved
her and how happy she made him. Whatever had happened certainly
seemed to have made him happy. He was soft and playful with her.
Covering her face with kisses.
She had wondered how it would
have looked to a stranger? A husband and wife in their marital bed,
having relations, in the pitch dark, with their night clothes on.
Ichabod had lifted her sleeping gown only as far as he needed to. And
he had not removed his night shirt. She assumed he didn’t
want to
shock her sense of modesty. But, as she lay in his arms that first
night, she wondered, would he wish to do it again that same night?
Tomorrow? Once a day? A week? A month? Oh, and she suddenly realized
that now that they were husband and wife, Ichabod would know when she
was menstruating. How silly, she had never thought of it before. How
was she to indicate this to him the first time? She was full of
anxiety and amazement. Anxiety because she had so many questions to
learn the answers to, and amazement because something in her body was
calling out to him, already. So soon. In spite of some discomfort she
still wanted Ichabod to repeat the act again. Again and again. She
turned towards her beloved. But even as she reached for him, she
could hear the first soft sounds of his snoring. Remembering it now,
she giggled out loud.
Katrina had been a wife now for almost
6 months. She was not sure she was any closer to finding out the
answers to her bridal curiosities. Yes, Ichabod knew now, that she
normally menstruated about the 3rd week of each month. And the act of
intercourse was always performed at least 4 times a month, if not
more. Ichabod had developed a habit of looking at her in a certain
way during their evening meal, which she now knew meant he would
desire her that night. Each time it had been exactly as on their
wedding night. Katrina was very happy with the affection and
closeness she shared with Ichabod on those occasions. But somehow she
was always left wanting. Neither she nor Ichabod had ever seen the
other unclothed.
She stood up from the bed and approached the
mirror again.
She thought, surely a few furtive moments can
not be the whole of that which has inspired centuries of poetry and
song. Katrina had read romance novels and they spoke of great passion
between a man and a woman. She thought she had known the feeling of
passion within herself; it had grown enormously since her body began
to change for the forthcoming birth. She wanted very much to share
these feelings with Ichabod. She slowly lowered her gown until it
revealed her bare shoulders and top of her bosom. She moved
coquettishly before the mirror, fascinated by her boldness. She
wondered what Ichabod would think if he saw her now, posing
seductively in private. She wondered.
That night
dinner at the Crane’s was not a very typical one. Ichabod and
Jonathan were full of the Lexington House murder. They told Katrina
everything that had transpired that day, about meeting (and liking)
Mailer. Ichabod did not go into any detail regarding the wounds, but
did give a brief summary of the background of Margaret and Janelle
Washington. Katrina was murmuring her sympathies, when suddenly her
face changed and she stared upright to the ceiling, shivering
slightly.
“What has happened, Katrina? Are you all right;
is there a draft of some sort??
“No, no, I am fine. Just
when you mentioned the sisters, I suddenly felt very odd.”
Katrina
leaned toward Ichabod, putting her hand on his arm. “Be
careful, my
heart, there is greed and jealousy at play there. And something so
dark, it is unnatural. Do not take any unnecessary risks, either you
or Jonathan. Promise, Ichabod. Promise now.”
“Of course,
Katrina, I would not put myself or Jonathan in harm’s way.
This
isn’t like Sleepy Hollow at all. The only unusual thing here
is the
level of society in which it happened. The rest is no more than
servants’ jabbering.” He continued, “This
murder was probably
the result of a lover’s quarrel with some local man, which
went too
far. She wouldn’t be the first housemaid to let a boyfriend
in the
back door late at night. They probably argued and he attacked her.
It’s really just going to be a matter of taking statements
and
putting the puzzle together. Do you agree, Jonathan?
“Well,
I am not sure. They say that the Chief Constable did ask for you
especially because of your involvement with Sleepy Hollow. That being
true, if it is, then he may think there is something
‘unnatural’
about the murder. However, I think that Magistrate Mailer would agree
with you, Ichabod..father…sir.” Jonathan looked
helplessly at
Katrina.
Ichabod spoke up. “I have an idea, Jonathan; let
us see if you agree. I think that Katrina would like it very much, if
you called her mother. As for myself, I think there is no harm in two
gentlemen, regardless of their relationship, calling each other by
their Christian names. You have the option of calling me father at
anytime, but until then, call me Ichabod.”
“Do we have an
agreement, son?” Ichabod asked.
“Yes, father. I’ll go
straight away then and put your things together that you will need
for the interviewing tonight.”
Ichabod smiled at Katrina as
Jonathan left the room. “Well, I guess we have passed one
hurdle.”
Katrina had gotten up from her chair and settled herself in
Ichabod’s lap. With a quick peek toward the kitchen, Ichabod
took
her face into his hands and kissed her for a long moment. “I
am
sorry that I will not be home early tonight, Katrina. But come up
with me while I change my jacket.”
A few minutes later, in
their bedroom Ichabod was straightening his jacket and running a
brush through his hair. Katrina came up quietly and sat on the bed in
her dressing gown. Ichabod saw her reflection in the mirror and
smiled at her. Katrina acknowledged by smiling back that she too
could see their image in the mirror. For a moment Ichabod continued
to fuss with his cravat, when suddenly he saw in the mirror that
Katrina had lowered her dressing gown to reveal her shoulders. And
then it fell to her waist. “Please Ichabod, do not
faint.”
Katrina whispered as his face paled considerably.
Ichabod
whirled around and stood before her. He said nothing. In the full
lamp light of the room, Katrina stood up from the bed, and let her
dressing gown drop to the floor. She wore nothing. She watched
Ichabod’s face closely. His eyes were drawn immediately to
her
slightly swollen belly, but he continued to move his eyes upwards
over her until he met her look with his own. She thought she would
find that incredulity and shock which preceded his usual fainting.
But instead, something powerful and provocative came over his
features. He moved very quickly over and embraced her. He kissed her
very deeply, and then moved slightly away. He knelt and picked up her
gown. Gently he wrapped the soft garment around her shoulders, his
eyes never leaving hers. He leaned into her neck, and moved his hand
under the gown to clasp her bare waist. He kissed the hollow of her
throat and ever so slightly touched it with his tongue.
Katrina
backed away from his embrace. “I understand you must go out
tonight, and I did not mean to cause a disturbance just prior to your
leaving, but…I wanted you to know, that…being
your wife is the
greatest happiness I have ever known. In return I wish to give you
every happiness, Ichabod. I am not ashamed of any of myself, and I
want to give myself to you fully.”
She laughed softly. “And
for some reason I had to tell you this very minute. Well what do you
think of my latest effort to bewitch you?”
He kissed her
lightly on the cheek. “I think it is…bewitching. I
am very sorry
that I shall have to leave.”
Ichabod walked toward the
bedroom door. “Katrina, you have given me more happiness than
I
thought ever to deserve. And now, I realize that we have not even
begun to explore the true intimacy of our marriage. You astonish me,
Katrina. I am the luckiest of all men.”
He stared lovingly
at her for a moment. And then he was gone.