Must the Maiden Die (29 page)

"He must have been a gentleman caller," Liam
said. "I think that's what he was."

Glynis and Neva exchanged a look.

"Did you recognize him?" Glynis asked.

"I didn't see much of him," Liam said,
blushing again.

Neva, with characteristic bluntness, said,
"And just how, exactly, was Mrs. Jager entertaining him?"

"Ah...well, that's.... that's hard to say,"
Liam stammered. "He didn't seem...he didn't have many clothes
on."

This brought them all to silence.

"And you're sure this man was unfamiliar to
you?" Glynis finally asked gently, as she thought that Liam had
made himself as clear as he was capable of doing.

"I'm sure."

"Then how can you possibly know he was a
gentleman?" Neva persisted.

"I don't," Liam said. And then added, "But
I'd like to think so."

Which, Glynis decided as she sent Neva a
shake of her head, was altogether a most charitable response.

"Were you able to give Mrs. Jager the
message about her daughter?" Glynis asked Liam, as he began to back
toward the door with a determined expression.

"I tried to, Miss Tryon. But she closed the
hotel room door so fast, I don't know if she heard me."

These were Liam's last words before he
yanked open the refuge door and sped off into the night.

After Neva and Glynis spent a long moment
staring at each other, they went back into the dispensary. Neva
checked her sleeping patient, then sat down and took a long swallow
of tea before saying, "Liam Cleary is not a fool, so why does he
insist on acting like one? Didn't you want more from him, Glynis,
about Mrs. Jager? You, whose curiosity is notorious?"

"I thought we'd gotten as much as we could
without embarrassing poor Liam further," Glynis murmured.

Neva glanced sideways at her. "You are a
better person than I."

"No, you save lives, Neva."

"In another way, so do you. You have an
uncanny ability, Glynis, to associate the most unrelated subjects.
You take one thing from here, one thing from there, then add them
together and come up with an answer of three! Cullen Stuart should
just sit back and relax, because sooner or later you'll figure out
who killed Roland Brant. Now, not that I want to change the sordid
subject of murder, or even the sordid, if fascinating, subject of
Elise Jager's callers—"

"We don't know that it's necessarily
sordid," Glynis protested, although not very strongly. "There might
be a perfectly respectable explanation."

Neva's brows raised. "If you say so. But I'm
due in Waterloo tomorrow to urge granting of the Brant autopsy
request, which means some sleep would be welcome. And we need to
discuss something before Abraham arrives and drags me home. You're
sure you don't mind staying here tonight?"

"Not at all."

Neva glanced again at the girl. "You did see
that bruising, didn't you? On her inner thighs?"

Glynis sighed. "Yes, I saw."

"Those are not fresh bruises," Neva stated.
"They look to have been made at least a week or ten days ago. Maybe
more. Tamar is malnourished—no one that thin is healthy—and she
probably doesn't heal well."

"Yes."

"Yes? Glynis, you sound as if this is old
news to you. How long has she been with that Gagnon man?"

"Not long enough," Glynis answered. "Not to
have done that. Unless she's known him longer than I think she has.
But I've met Gerard Gagnon, and I don't think he's to blame."

"Then who is? It's not only those bruises,
there's been other tissue damage in her genital area. In my
opinion, that girl has been violated. And certainly not willingly,
if her behavior tonight was any indication."

"I'm afraid I think you're right."

Neva moved forward to the edge of her chair,
and stared at Glynis. "Why are you so calm about this? You don't
seem at all shocked! Does that mean you knew about it?"

"Not for certain, not until tonight. But I
had begun to suspect it."

"Which is why you asked those questions
earlier?"

Glynis nodded.

"Well, who did this dreadful thing to
her?"

"I'm not sure. Not yet."

"Since she lived at the Brant house, was it
one of those men?" Neva asked, her voice now strident with
anger.

Glynis didn't immediately reply. When she
did, it was to say, "I wonder—and I'm just guessing here—if perhaps
Gerard Gagnon knows the answer. Tonight Cullen said something to
the effect that Gerard seems to hold all the Brants responsible for
his father's suicide. But Andre Gagnon's death might not be the
only reason for Gerard's hatred of that family. Earlier tonight, he
was adamant, desperately so, that Tamar could not go back to the
Brant house."

"I think that goes without saying."

"Not necessarily," Glynis said. "Remember,
her father sold her into servitude there. I very much doubt he
would give a second thought to sending her back—although surely he
doesn't know about the harm done her there! He may be callous and
indifferent, but I can't believe he would overlook that kind of
brutality. And now we have to worry about her mother's judgment.
I've been uneasy about Elise Jager before tonight, though my
reasons may not be good ones. But Neva, this poor girl! She has no
one. Nowhere to turn, except perhaps to a young man who is now
sitting in Cullen's jail."

"So what should we—"

Neva broke off at a knock on the refuge
door. "That will no doubt be my weary husband," she said, as she
got to her feet. "We'll talk more about this tomorrow, Glynis."

Abraham had opened the door, but then stood
leaning against the jamb, looking just barely able to keep
awake.

"You must be exhausted after that search,"
Neva said to him.

"It has not been one of the shorter days of
my life," he agreed. "Are you coming home, or do you need to sleep
here tonight?"

"No, Glynis has offered to stay with the
girl." She turned to say, "You know what to watch for, Glynis.
Redness, swelling, fever, the things I listed. And if anything
changes—"

"I'll come and get you."

But as Neva and Abraham left, Glynis did not
feel as confident as she had sounded. There remained the very real
possibility that Tamar's apparent confession had been genuine.
That she had indeed murdered Roland Brant.

After checking the sleeping girl once again
and finding her forehead cool, and her bandages free of blood,
Glynis turned down the wicks of the two lamps still burning. She
lay down on the other dispensary bed, intending to simply rest.

Sometime later she was wakened by a
clattering crash. Followed by a series of barks. She pulled
herself upright to see Tamar crouched at the edge of the other
bed, staring with frightened eyes at the tin tray of instruments
still vibrating on the wood floor. The dog stopped barking and was
investigating the tray warily.

Glynis slid off the bed, being careful to
keep her distance from the girl while saying to her, "Don't be
frightened, Tamar. It's only the doctor's instruments making that
racket."

The girl looked at Glynis, the confusion in
her face clearly adding to the fear revealed in her eyes. The dog,
however, had returned to stand in front of her, his tail switching
back and forth. When Tamar looked down at him, her expression
became less fearful.

"Yes, the dog is all right, Tamar, as you
see. My name is Glynis Tryon, and I'm a friend of..." A friend of
whom? she asked herself, her mind still clouded with sleep.
Certainly it wouldn't ease the girl's distress to say a friend of
the Brant family. Or of the father who had sold her into a
servitude of immense harm.

"I'm a friend," she repeated, leaving it
there. "I met you once in my niece Emma's dress shop, but I don't
know if you'd remember that. And I'm the town librarian," she
added, for no particular reason other than that she herself would
have found this a reassuring fact to know about a stranger.

The fright in the girl's eyes had
diminished. It was probably due more to the presence of the dog
than to anything else.

"Did you need something?" Glynis asked. "For
instance a chamber pot?"

The girl gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
Glynis went to the table and pulled the chamber pot from beneath
it. Still keeping her distance, she said, "You may be unsteady on
your feet, so I'll help you, if you like."

The girl shrank back against the bed, and
Glynis quickly added, "Or you can hold onto the headboard until you
know whether you can stand without dizziness. Then I'll leave you
by yourself."

The girl gave her a long look, then put her
hand on a wooden spindle and stood up. A moment later, she sank
back down, a sheen of perspiration on her forehead.

Glynis, whose impulse was to go to the girl,
remained where she was with effort. "It's an awful feeling, isn't
it?" she said. "I was once sick in bed for a number of days, and
afterwards, when I first tried to walk, I decided I'd rather be
sick again." She smiled tentatively at Tamar. "It passes, though,
once you've been on your feet for a while."

The girl seemed to be studying her, the
outright fear replaced by a guarded expression. She again tried to
stand, but this time she did it more slowly, and with one hand
placed on the dog's back. When she finally straightened, she seemed
to be fairly steady.

"I'll be right outside the door if you need
me," Glynis told her. "Please don't be afraid to call. We're the
only ones here, except for a few women who are sleeping in the wing
of the refuge."

As Glynis left the room, she could feel
Tamar watching her. She pulled the door closed with some misgiving,
but the girl did not look feverish and the laudanum seemed to have
worn off. Better to give her some privacy, than to intrude
unnecessarily. And surely the dog would bark if the girl fell.
Glynis's concern was more about the fact that Tamar hadn't spoken.
That she had again withdrawn into silence.

Moonlight coming through the large warehouse
windows was bright enough for Glynis to read Neva's desk clock. It
was a few minutes past three. So the girl had been asleep for some
hours; as had she, Glynis thought with a start of guilt. But
apparently no harm had been done, unless Tamar had been lying there
awake and in fear.

A few minutes later the dispensary door
opened. Tamar stood gripping it while the dog danced around her
feet. She pointed at the chamber pot, then at the dog. Glynis
thought she knew what the girl meant, but waited to respond in
hopes Tamar would speak.

The silence stretched, and just as Glynis
was about to give up, the girl said, "Outside. He needs to go
outside."

"Yes," Glynis said with relief. "I'll put
him out for a few minutes. And while he's gone, I'll make us some
tea, all right?"

The girl didn't respond, but continued
standing there. "It would help," Glynis said, "if you tell me the
dog's name."

"Keeper," said Tamar.

"Keeper," Glynis repeated, smiling. "A good
name for a sheepherder—keeper of the flock. Is he Gerard Gagnon's
dog?"

Tamar's expression became apprehensive. "Is
he...?" She had drawn in her breath, and didn't seem able to finish
the question.

"Gerard is fine," Glynis answered. Which was
not completely truthful if being jailed was any measure, but she
noted the immediate easing of anxiety in Tamar's face. It reassured
her that Gerard Gagnon had not been the one to brutalize this
girl.

"I'll put Keeper outside," Glynis said. "But
first would you please go back to the bed? I doubt if you're very
strong yet, and I'm afraid you might fall."

The girl said nothing, but backed away from
the door and edged toward the bed. When she lowered herself to the
edge of it, Glynis called the dog to the door.

***

Tamar said nothing when Glynis brought the
tea. But she drank it readily enough, seated on the edge of the
bed, and even took a few bites of the corn-bread biscuits Glynis
offered. The girl still looked pale, so Glynis asked if she didn't
want to lie down again. Tamar gave her another long look, then lay
back. In the meantime, Glynis debated with herself about how much
she should tell the girl if she asked the whereabouts of
Gerard.

She didn't ask, but curled on her side with
her back to Glynis. After turning down the lamps again, and
stepping over Keeper, Glynis started for the other bed. She stopped
at the sound of a soft sob. The dog instantly jumped to his feet;
at least he, Glynis thought, was recovering quickly. But she
wondered if Tamar would be able to recover from what she had
suffered.

Leaving the lamps low and relying on the
moonlight, Glynis pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat
down.

"I'd like to help you if I can," she said,
cautiously reaching forward to smooth the girl's hair. Tamar
didn't pull away, and Glynis thought this remarkable considering
what the girl had been through. It gave her some confidence that
Tamar could eventually mend.

"To help you, though," Glynis told her, "I
need to know a few things. You don't have to answer, but I hope you
will trust me."

There was no response from the girl, but she
didn't shy away.

"I expect you want to know about Gerard
Gagnon," Glynis said, and received a quick nod of Tamar's head.
"He's here in town. Unlike you, he wasn't shot."

The girl rolled onto her back to look at
Glynis. "He's all right?" she asked.

"Yes, although he's worried about you,
Tamar. He sent..." Glynis stopped, again doubtful as to how much
she should say about Gerard's circumstances.

"Where is he?" Tamar asked.

The girl plainly had some strength of will,
or she couldn't have survived this long, and while Glynis didn't
want to upset her more, she also didn't want to lie to her. "He
sent a deputy here to see how you were," Glynis answered, hoping
this might be enough.