The Lexington House Murder
~ Chapter Seventeen
In
the dining room, Jonathan took the seat next to Katrina, after moving
it as close to her as possible. Katrina turned round at him and gave
him a kiss on the forehead. Jonathan looked at little bashful but he
remained seated tight next to her. In turn, Katrina continued to stay
close to Janelle, holding her hand but letting go occasionally to
bring some coffee to Janelle’s lips. She was afraid the girl
was in
shock.
Katrina looked around at the women in front of her.
Women whose lives had been made a hell by the deeds of one man. And
not just these women, but the others like Margaret who had so easily
become the target for a man who traded on their vulnerabilities.
Every woman’s vulnerabilities. She wondered how long
women’s
lives would be determined by their ability to find a husband, lover,
or male relative to take kind care of them. Katrina became irritated
at herself. She felt angry when she thought of these things.
Janelle sat up and let go of Katrina’s hand; she had
stopped weeping. But no sooner had Janelle let go then Katrina felt a
weight against her other side. Jonathan had fallen asleep, his head
just lolling until it found a comfortable spot. Katrina folded her
shawl for a pillow and lowered Jonathan’s head into her lap.
She
thought that she would be the finest new mother ever, for all the
practice she was getting lately. Not that she ever begrudged any
tenderness toward Jonathan. She smoothed the hair back from his brow.
Ichabod spoke to Mailer in a low tone. He asked if someone
had been sent to fetch the little girl.
Mailer nodded. “As
soon as I got her to her feet, Parker gave the address of where the
child was. There is a patrol out to bring her back. They should be
returning shortly.”
Suddenly, from across the room, Katrina
found herself locking eyes with Magistrate Mailer. He had cut off his
handle bar mustache and left a neat, more fashionable version. It
made him seem so much younger. She had not noticed that before. Nor
how nice looking he was. She could see it took all of the control he
had to keep from running to Janelle’s side. But he stood
firmly
with Ichabod at the head of the table.
It was Ichabod broke
the silence. “Mrs. Parker, do you wish to tell us about the
circumstances of the murder of Margaret Washington?”
Parker
slowly lifted her head. During her life, her face had assumed an
almost constant look of condescension. Now she was devoid of any
expression, as was her voice.
“To begin with, Constable,
Margaret was not murdered.”
Ichabod’s surprise showed on
his face. “Explain that statement” he demanded.
“Well,
why not ask the noble long-suffering wife, she was there as
well.”
Ichabod approached Mrs. Wellington-Trumbell. She actually
smiled up at him. “She’s stating the truth,
Constable Crane. At
least the factual truth. I do not know how a night like that can ever
actually exist in a state of truth.”
After receiving no
response from Ichabod, she shrugged and began to speak.
“It
was late; I do not remember the hour, but late. I was awoken by what
sounded like a muffled argument down below. My bedroom is the one
exactly above the sitting room.”
“I first went to Megan’s
room. She was asleep.
The people who were arguing had managed
to keep their voices low. I walked down the stairs and looked into
the sitting room. There was James, Parker and Margaret. I kept to the
shadows. I remember thinking that this would be it. Obviously
Margaret had gone too far in her questioning and demanding, James had
tried to dismiss her, which led to the argument. I assumed Parker had
been summoned, as usual, to take care of the mess for him.”
“During this whole time, Margaret’s back was to me.
She
looked unusually disheveled, as if she had been in a struggle with
some one. She held something in her hand, but I could not see what it
was. James and Parker were listening to her, but keeping their eyes
on whatever it was she held. Margaret was weeping; she said something
to the effect that James was a brute and could no longer keep Megan
from her. She would go the authorities. She would get someone to help
her, but she was not going to leave without her child.”
“James
began to laugh at her. He had obviously had a great deal to
drink.”
“He told her. ‘You are just sorry that I could not
get it
up a second time, bitch. And believe me I would never turn even a
bastard child over to a slow-wit like you. You are good for only one
thing, my dear, but you have began to wear on me with your constant
whining. Megan is my child now. Try to make trouble for me and she
could just as well have an unfortunate accident, or god forbid, meet
with some type of molestation.’” Mrs.
Wellington-Trumbell’s
voice had dropped to where she was barely audible. She said,
“I
become sick again every time I hear those words in my head.”
Janelle now stood up and pointed to the woman. “How can you
have not said anything at all, not come and told me, told anyone,
when you knew a helpless child’s safety was at
stake.” Mailer
walked quickly down the side of the table and put his hands on
Janelle’s shoulders. For moment she shook him off. But then
she
reached for his hand and held it. She sat down again.
Jonathan
stirred in Katrina’s lap. Ichabod was beside her immediately.
He
leaned over and took the boy in his arms. Jonathan was heavy but
Ichabod managed to carry him into the hallway and set him down in a
large comfortable chair. The movement had not woken him.
Ichabod
returned to the dining room. “Continue, Mrs.
Wellington-Trumbell,
if you can.” Helen reached to pour a good bit of brandy into
her
coffee.
“I saw that Margaret was in a horrifying rage. I
noticed blood smeared about her lower skirt. It was very clear that
my husband had attacked the girl. Parker was trying to get them both
to calm down and to make it clear to Margaret that she must not do
this or that, or it would end badly. I saw Margaret make a lunge at
her. It was then that I saw in Margaret’s hand a thick bladed
knife
of some type.”
Helen took a long pause, during which tears
began to course down her cheeks.
“When she went for Parker,
Margaret’s foot got caught up against the leg of the table.
She
fell hard, very hard. She made no movement, no sounds. James and
Parker were stunned. After a moment Parker went to her side and
rolled her over. The knife had entered her throat up to the hilt. I
had never been so frightened in my life. I had to bite my own hand to
keep from making a sound.”
“After a few moments passed,
James went insane. Like a crazy man, he tried to pull the knife out,
but it must have been more difficult than he thought, he only ended
up making a horrible wound in the girl.”
Janelle made a
strangling sound in her throat. Mailer, without hesitation, lifted
her up and carried into the small parlor down the hall. Katrina
followed him. She didn’t need to hear anymore. She paused a
moment
to make sure Jonathan was still sleeping soundly. She never wanted
her children to hear words like that. Bad enough that they were part
of Ichabod’s daily life.
She followed Mailer into the
parlor and knelt by Janelle. “You go back now, Magistrate. I
will
look after her. And please, for the love of god, be quick about it. I
want to take my family home.” She spoke more harshly than she
intended, but when she looked up, she saw only understanding in his
eyes.
Back in the dining room, Ichabod pressed on. “What of
the other wounds.”
She replied “I don’t know about any
other wounds.”
“There was a slash to her face and other
wounds.”
“I don’t know. I was terrified they would see
me. I waited until their backs were turned and crept up the stairs. I
did hear James ranting some awful things about Margaret. Horrifying
things I cannot even repeat. The last thing I heard was Parker. She
sounded desperate, pleading with James to leave the girl’s
body
alone, go ahead upstairs, leave everything to her to fix. By the next
day they seemed to have settled it all out. I was told to keep quiet
or they would take Megan away.”
Helen Wellington-Trumbell
leaned back into her chair. Her eyes went blank. She had no more to
say.
A noise at the door proved to be Jonathan who, awake
now, walked over to his father. He looked up at Mailer and Ichabod
and said. “She is here. Shouldn’t we take her into
mother and
Miss Janelle?”
Mailer quickly followed the boy into the
hallway.
Helen Wellington-Trumbell suddenly became alert,
“May I see her, please for just a moment? She is the closest
thing
I ever had to a child. Please Constable.”
Ichabod’s voice
was unusually harsh. “No, Madame. I am afraid that as of this
moment you are under arrest for the shooting death of your husband.
And while I think you have a good chance of being acquitted, I will
do everything in my power to keep you from ever seeing that child
again.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Janelle sat
silently in the back parlor. Katrina had sat herself on the divan.
Jonathan was on his feet the moment he heard the patrolmen coming up
the walk. Just like that he was up and gone. Katrina did not try to
stop him.
Several minutes later, Mailer entered the room
holding the sleeping child. Her thin face had a pinched look to it.
She was bundled in blankets, but one of her hands had become free and
even in her sleep she trembled.
Janelle immediately held out
her arms, but Katrina cautioned her quietly. “Janelle, this
child
needs no more tears and pain in her life, no matter who they come
from. If you want to take care of the child, you will have to be
strong.”
Janelle did indeed wipe away her fresh tears and
squared her shoulders. “John?” she indicated for
him to give the
child to her. Janelle took the little girl into her arms and held her
very gently.
Jonathan walked up slowly to gaze down at the
little girl’s face. He ever so gently laid a hand on her
bundled
form. “Miss Janelle. I think this will be the luckiest day of
Megan’s life. Children can get lost at times. You and I know
what
it is like to lose everything. I was fortunate that Katrina and
Ichabod took me into their hearts. You are lucky because the
Magistrate has taken you into his. And Megan will be lucky to have
found you both.”
Katrina turned to Ichabod. “I would like
to go home. Jonathan must be put to bed. Even if you cannot accompany
us, I need to leave now.”
Ichabod had apparently earlier
agreed that Mailer would do the ‘finish up.’ File
the formal
report, give directives to the patrolmen on duty, and arrange for
fresh shifts.
Ichabod walked his wife and son out to one of
the carriages waiting. “Staley, is that you.”
“Yes,
sir. Where to Constable.”
“Home, Staley. Please take us
home.”
Jonathan was back in his own bed. Tucked and
re-tucked in by Katrina. Ichabod finally got her to leave the
boy’s
side.
They walked to their bedroom. Katrina was silent. “It
must be almost dawn. I would say there is not much sense to sleep
now, we will just have to get up again.”
“I already left
a note for cook not to raise us until we call for her.”
Ichabod
replied; he could sense the unhappiness in Katrina’s manner.
He
would not press her.
They entered the bedroom; Ichabod locked
the door behind him. Katrina was not sure if she wished to scream or
to dissolve into tears.
All during this evening she had
wondered at what capabilities she possessed to take care of herself.
If she had never met Ichabod, never fallen in love. Would she be able
to be on her own? What if she was a widow, how would she live.
And
even now she was being undressed like a child. Ichabod removed her
shoes, stockings, dress, underskirt and pulled down the bed sheets
for her. She remained in her chemise as she crawled in. Ichabod
undressed completely and got into bed with her. He turned off the
lamp by their bed. He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling.
Waiting.
In a few minutes, it began. Katrina started to shake
and then Ichabod could hear her tears began. She turned away from him
and buried her face in the pillow. Ichabod reach over to her, and
firmly turned her around until she was facing him.
“Here,
love. If you are sad or angry this is where you belong. With me. If
the sadness or anger comes about from something I have done, I want
you to tell me. If it is for fear of loss, fear of being able to
survive alone, fear of being helpless, than I want you to tell me
that also.” Katrina stopped crying, but remained silent.
“No
one will ever stop all of the havoc that man seems to delight in
heaping on his fellow man. But I can insure that consequences follow
from those acts which society has deemed as destructive. But not a
day goes by in my life when I don’t reflect on the
capriciousness
of it all. And the fear that I have constantly. What if I had not
gone to Sleepy Hollow? What would have become of me, Katrina, if you
had not come into my life? Do you not know how badly I need you,
Katrina?” Ichabod voice was thick with emotion.
“Not just as a
spouse. As my friend, confidant, lover. My reason to live. I can only
hope that you know that.”
Katrina relaxed in his arms. He
rocked her quietly for a long time. At one point Katrina thought
Ichabod might have wept as well. After a while had passed, she sat up
slightly and removed the combs from her hair. She could feel his
fingers reaching through her curls even before she could lower
herself back into his arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Several
Months Later
A mist was clearing before Ichabod’s eyes.
For a second he recognized the feeling of panic. Then he was able to
clearly focus on the faces of Mailer and Jonathan looking down at
him. He must have fainted. Damn. Not today.
Mailer and
Jonathan helped him to his feet. Ichabod announced in a shaky but
determined voice. “Faint or not, I will be with Katrina
during the
birth. I insist.”
He began to walk toward the room. A tiny
cry made him halt in his footsteps. Jonathan was beside him.
“I am
afraid, father, that you were unconscious for most of it. But Katrina
was most brave and did not cry out a lot.”
Mailer patted
Crane on the back. “Well, man, go in and see your child. We
do not
even know if you had a boy or a girl.”
Ichabod reached down
and grasped Jonathan’s hand in his own. “Are you
ready,
Jonathan?”
The boy smiled shyly and said, “I think it
best you go in first. Be alone with mother and the new baby. I will
join you in a few minutes.”
“Sorry, my son. I have no
intentions of meeting our newest member of the household without you.
Ready?”
Together they entered the bedroom. Katrina sat up
in bed, holding a tiny bundle. Her face was radiant. “Oh come
and
see. Ichabod, you have a daughter and Jonathan, a little sister! And
she is the most beautiful baby ever.” The man and boy
approached
the bed.
The mid-wife and Cook continued bundling sheets and
gathering basins to remove. When their arms were full they walked out
of the room quietly and shut the door behind them.
The End.
Title:
The Lexington House
Murder © c.white ~ February 2005
This story is presented
here for amusement purposes only.
No infringement of copyrighted
material is intended.
This author acknowledges that that
characters of Ichabod Crane, Katrina Van Tassel Crane and Jonathan
Masbeth are based on the characters portrayed in the movie
“Sleepy
Hollow” written for the screen by Kevin Yahger (1999) and
directed
by Tim Burton.
This story contains (Stong language and Adult
Content)