The Lexington House Murder
~ Chapter Nine
The next morning,
dawned gloomy and dark. Ichabod opened the
bedroom door when he heard the tray being placed outside.
“Cook, we
will be having Magistrate Mailer for breakfast. He looks like he
hasn’t had a decent meal in a while, can you do up something
special this morning?”
“Not a problem, Constable. One
thing I know is how to feed a hungry man.” She walked down
the
stairs.
Jonathan came down the hallway, just as Ichabod was
closing the door. He was rubbing his eyes with sleep. Ichabod smiled,
“If you hurry, you can help Cook. Magistrate Mailer is coming
for
breakfast, and you can sit in on our discussion of the case. Katrina
and I will be down shortly.”
Alone in their room, Ichabod
was putting on his shirt. Katrina sat up and took a sip of her
coffee.
“Katrina, when did the doctor tell you the baby was
due?”
Katrina stood up and put on her dressing gown. “Early
winter.” Her voice was very soft.
“Why did you tell me
the child was but two months in your womb?”
“I am sorry,
Ichabod. I guess I thought it would alarm you in some way. That you
might not think it time to start a family.”
Ichabod just
touched her cheek. “I know I have been pre-occupied with work
lately. I can understand your hesitation. You owe no apologies to
me.” Ichabod sat on the side of the bed. And Katrina placed
herself
on his lap.
“Ichabod, last night, Janelle Washington came
to the house looking for you”
Ichabod looked up startled.
Katrina put a finger to his lips. “She wanted to talk to you,
but I
convinced her to come in and have tea. I did not question the young
woman at all. When she spoke to me, I believe she was forthright. I
am not sure I understood all of what she was trying to say, but I
wanted to tell you.”
“Katrina, do you think it was wise
to question the girl when neither Mailer nor I had spoken to
her?”
Ichabod asked.
“Yes, I believe it was. She was extremely
distressed; it would have to cruel to turn her back without offering
her a chance to rest. I assure you, Constable Crane, I did not ask a
single question. I only listened. That poor girl was scared. She too
talked of spirits but not the kind that haunt. The kind that exist
among the living, are allowed to torment others weaker than
themselves. And still others with greed and pride in their hearts
pretending that the very evil in front of them does not
exist.”
“Katrina why did you not tell me last night, when I
awoke.”
“Ichabod, I repeat that I do not intend to hide anything
from you, ever. But I see how emotionally this murder has touched
you. It is my job to care for you, and last night you needed rest.
Something more than a ghost is troubling you about this matter. Some
horror, to do with this death, has made you extremely uneasy,
Ichabod.”
Ichabod’s hair had fallen over his face. His
shirt hung open with the collar undone. The shadows made him seem
gaunt and tired. And his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes. Katrina
thought Ichabod the most beautiful man she had ever met. She reached
out to brush back his hair, but stopped short. Instead she placed her
hand on his cheek.
Crane sighed. “You are right, my sweet,
Katrina. There is no ghost at work here. Just an evil miscreant in
human form. I do not want to tell you this, but the victim, that
young girl, Margaret, was brutalized in an unnatural manner.”
Katrina turned his face, so that he could see her eyes. She
did not show shock or disgust, though she felt both sharply.
“Do
you mean that she was violated against her will, but not
….well,
not the way one might think of ….”
Ichabod looked
surprised. “Katrina, what do you know of these
things?”
“Ichabod, I have no wish to disappoint your ideas of women,
but we do know of molestation. Being the most likely victims, it is
natural that maturing young girls would talk all manner of violence
and defilement capable by men of unscrupulous character. That I do
know.”
“What I do not know is how to kiss a man so
completely, that he will instantly forgive all wifely
transgressions.” For a moment they were silent. Katrina
tentatively
placed her lips on Ichabod’s. Than she kissed him and she
touched
the tip of her tongue to his lower lip.
He rolled her onto
the bed and began to loosen the ribbons on her night gown. He pulled
the gown down to the top of Katrina’s breasts. He moved his
lips
slowly over her shoulders, face and throat.
“Katrina, I
must confess to you that I cannot go a single hour without thinking
of touching you. The desire to feel your flesh on my flesh is
continually in my thoughts.”
“Our thoughts are the same
then.” Katrina blushed slightly.
Suddenly Ichabod was
kissing her urgently. He reached down to undo his trousers, when he
heard the bombastic voice of Mailer calling up the stairs.
“I
say Crane, honeymoons on hold – work to be done
here.”
“Damn
the man!” Ichabod said. He sat up and took several deep
breaths.
“We had better dress; you will come down with me Katrina?
Mailer
will want to hear about your talk with Janelle.”
“You
would leave your wife in such a state of anticipation?”
Katrina
smiled as she rose from the bed and moved to her wardrobe.
“Not
for too long my love. That I do promise you.” Ichabod smiled
and
then whispered something in Katrina’s ear. They continued to
dress
in silence. Katrina kept her eyes down; so excited was she by his
words. Together they went down to greet their guest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mailer
was looking down at
a huge plate of eggs, ham, and biscuits. Cook poured steaming coffee
into his cup and made a funny face behind him to Jonathan, who
grinned back at her. “Enjoy, Magistrate. There is plenty more
if
you wish.”
For a moment, Jonathan and Mailer ate in
silence. Half way through, Mailer leaned back and took a long sip of
the coffee. “Crane has an enviable household. These biscuits
are a
wonder.”
“Cook is the best. Every Sunday she makes a huge
roast with baked puddings.” Jonathan looked up rather slyly
at
Mailer. “Perhaps when this is over, you and Miss Janelle can
come
dine with us?”
Mailer frowned at him. “You are a quick
witted lad, Jonathan. How do you know about Miss Janelle? Crane
telling stories about me? Did you by any chance have anything to do
with Ichabod and Katrina’s romance?”
“No, sir. They
fell in love as soon as each laid eyes on the other.”
“Well,
while we are waiting, why don’t you tell me your theories on
the
case? Crane believes you are the cleverest of lads. Do you believe
the murderer is a ghost, Jonathan?”
“Well I have not
heard all the evidence or statements given, but, no sir, I do not
think ghostly creatures are in back of all that has happened. Perhaps
a woman?”
“Hmmm.Where is heaven did you come up with an
idea like that?” Mailer began to attack his breakfast again.
But
paused, fork half to mouth, when Katrina entered the room with
Ichabod behind her.
Mailer stood at once. A choice bit of ham
stuck to his shirt. “Mrs. Crane, I am very grateful for the
kind
invitation to breakfast with you.” He was completely taken
aback by
Katrina’s beauty. Her face glowed and her hair was the color
of
pale spun gold. ‘My god,’ Mailer thought to
himself. ‘Crane has
done himself well here.’
Ichabod drew a chair for his wife.
“Sit down, my dear. Magistrate, you seem to be enjoying your
breakfast to the extent that you have decided to wear it”
Jonathan burst into laughter. Katrina gave him a frown and
slight kick under the table.
“Constable, your son, here was
just suggesting that we “cherche la femme” instead
of chasing any
ghosts.” Mailer chuckled derisively at the idea.
Ichabod
knew better.
He looked thoughtfully at Jonathan, “What”
he asked, “would make you think a woman could have done
this?”
“Well, I heard that she was cut with a long razor down one
side of her face. I think that is something a woman would do. When
they are fighting at school or in the street, girls delight in
scratching the others face.” He looked up at the adults.
“They
don’t seem to know to use their fists or to fight properly at
all.
That’s what made me think that.”
Katrina rose and walked
around to where Jonathan sat. She kissed the side of his face.
“That
is a very interesting thought, my son. I am sure the gentlemen will
take it under their advisement. If you are finished, you can take
your setting out to Cook and then leave us for a short
while.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes at Ichabod, but did as he was told.
He placed the heavy silverware, carefully across his plate and
carried it rather genteelly into the kitchen. Katrina returned to her
seat.
Crane allowed Mailer to describe the interview with the
coroner and both of the Wellington-Trumbells from the night before.
Mailer did not mentioned the sexual wounds. Ichabod quietly brought
up the previous night’s discussion between Katrina and
Janelle.
Mailer was on his feet. “What’s this about Janelle
coming
here last night?
Katrina poured more coffee for the
Magistrate.
“Last night, Janelle Washington came looking to
speak to Ichabod. She seemed unsure of herself. When she learned that
Ichabod was not here, she tried to leave and asked me not to mention
her coming at all. I persuaded her to come in. I did not prod her or
question her. I just held her hand. After several minutes she began
to weep. Then she talked to me about herself and her sister.”
Mailer looked her. “Why Crane? Why did she come to him for
help? I would have thought she would seek me out.”
“A
young woman would hardly seek out an unmarried man, even a handsome
magistrate, unaccompanied, at night, at his bachelor’s
rooming
house. She came here because she felt comfortable,” answered
Katrina.
Mailer sat down.
Katrina continued. “She
did confirm to me that most of Mrs. Van Ernst’s early
biography was
accurate. Both Margaret and Janelle are from New Haven, and were made
orphans when a carriage carrying both their parents, was run off the
road. "
"Shortly afterwards, Margaret, actually met
James Wellington-Trumbell at the home of one of her friends. Normally
a guest would not even take notice of a housemaid’s friend.
But
apparently, James was all manner of kindness to Margaret. He asked
her questions about her family and circumstances. Being flattered
that such an important man would be interested in her, Margaret told
him all about herself and her sister. It was James who offered the
position of housemaid at Lexington House. Margaret was but fifteen at
the time she joined the Wellington-Trumbells.”
“I can not
tell you much about Margaret. You see, Janelle struggled to describe
her sister. She told me that Margaret was always what one might call
‘an innocent’. Not feeble-minded in some way. Just
that she was
naïve, simple and not as quick to grasp ideas as others her
age.
Janelle had noticed it since they were children together. She always
looked out for her older sister.”
“Janelle told me within
weeks of her working at Lexington house, Margaret seemed to change.
She became moody and quiet. Janelle tried to find out what was going
on, but Margaret was stubborn, almost defiant in her refusal to
answer her sister’s questions. Janelle began to believe that
her
sister was having relations with the master of the house. She had
seen him only once, during a visit to Margaret, but the man had an
overly-familiar way with her sister. It made Janelle uncomfortable;
she said the whole household made her uncomfortable.”
“What
do you think she meant by that, Katrina?” Ichabod leaned
toward his
wife.
“I am not sure. She may have been too frightened to
say. Just that she felt somehow, James’ attitude was one of
entitlement. If he was in love with Margaret, it was a love tainted
by brutishness. Margaret did seem to get on with Mrs.
Wellington-Trumbell. At least enough that she accompanied same on a
two month visit to Mrs. Wellington-Trumbell’s
sister’s home in
Trenton.”
“Did she reveal anything else?” Mailer had
begun to take notes.
“Just one other thing, that the
brother who died, I don’t recall the name.”
Ichabod
looked up. “Thomas, Thomas was James’
brother.”
“Well
then, she told me Thomas, dead or alive, would never hurt anyone. In
the beginning, she hoped it was Thomas that Margaret had developed
feelings for. Janelle met him several times before the only meeting
with James. Janelle was quite firm in her feeling that Thomas was as
kind a man, as his brother was not. Janelle said she cannot imagine
James as a father. Poor Megan. Living in a house where there is not
much love, and now this?”
Mailer and Ichabod looked at each
other in astonishment. Ichabod asked “Who is
Megan?”
“She
is their child.” Katrina responded. “Surely the
Wellington-Trumbells must have mentioned it to you when they spoke to
you.
Mailer fairly sputtered. “We talked to these people
for almost half of an hour, they never once mentioned they had a
child. Am I mistaken, Crane?"
“No, they did not
mention it. But perhaps we should have asked,” said Ichabod.
“And,
by god, it is certainly my intention to ask them now.”