Dark Shadows (33 page)

“Yes, I noticed. I was scared they were going to ask me where I was going, when I wasn’t even sure myself. I don’t think we should chance all those places along the river again. Going west will mean that our journey will take longer, but it’ll be safer. I bet there will be more wild animals to eat.”

Nelson nodded. He liked the sound of that.

Mercy unfolded the map again and looked north. They would not be able to get to Delaware if they did go towards the west. She drew her finger across the map again and said cheerily, “Right. I think I’ve got it. If we go slightly more to the west and then we follow the North Star again, we should come to Pennsylvania eventually. I believe that’s a free state for black people. My … my friend Jacob Stone told me where the free slaves live.”

She folded the map and put it back in the saddlebag and smiled again at Nelson. “Let’s not worry about anything right now. I’m starving, and these cold beans look good.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

Jacob had ridden as far as he could and for as long as possible before finally giving up because of bad weather. No one he had questioned on his journey through Chesapeake Bay and the Hampton Roads had recognised Mercy’s likeness or remembered a woman with her distinct accent.

Mercy had now been missing for over two weeks. Virginia was looking at a harsh winter, with more blizzards and snow than the state had seen in years. The snow was even piled high at the coast, and conditions had been treacherous, with cruel horizontal winds without respite during short days and long nights.

It was mid-January, and his northern advance all the way up to the Delaware River, stopping in every small, large, or port town, had yielded nothing. He was weary and broken-hearted, but he had not given up hope of seeing Mercy again.

He had thought about many things on that journey. He wondered how it was possible to feel so much joy one day, only to lose that extraordinary feeling of complete fulfilment the next. Mercy had given him the great love he’d always imagined existed. It had surpassed all his expectations. He didn’t only love her; he also craved her, felt her with him even now, and saw her every night in his dreams. They were still connected by some inexplicable power. That was why he
knew
she was still alive. He physically ached for her. It was both comforting and tormenting to believe in his heart that she was well.

He was now a few miles outside of Portsmouth, but instead of turning his horse left, which would have taken him into the city, he turned right and headed towards du Pont’s house. His torment had grown with each mile. He believed du Pont could lift some of the heavy weight from his shoulders by giving him answers. He would use force if necessary. He would kick her door down, and he would remain there until he got information that might give him a better understanding of what had happened to Mercy. He was convinced that du Pont would have returned to her farm by now – he was counting on it.

His horse whinnied at her front door. He dismounted and tethered the reins to a wooden post. Through lace window curtains, he saw candles flickering. He stood for a moment, trying to hide and contain the hatred he felt towards du Pont, and then he stepped onto the porch.

A slave woman opened the door. Madame du Pont stood behind her, dressed in a cream-coloured gown which displayed the shape of her saggy bosom. Gone were all the necessary tools she normally used to enhance her looks. She had no corset to hold up and shape her bosom and pull her in at the waist. There was no jewellery to hide the folds in her neck or earrings to cover long, dangly lobes. Her wig was old, showing bare netting on bald patches. Yet her face was caked with powder and rouge, black kohl pencil on top and bottom eyelids and eyebrows, and bright red paint smeared above and below her lip line in an attempt to hide the wrinkles around her mouth.

She stared at Jacob, blinking with surprise, and then folded her arms across her chest, displaying her annoyance.

Jacob removed his hat, shook the snow off it, and barely managed to hide his inner desire to kill her. “Good evening, Madame du Pont,” he said.

“It’s Mrs Mallory now, Mr Stone. What do you want?”

“Are you going to invite me in?” Jacob asked.

              Du Pont pushed the slave girl aside and came to stand at the doorway. She poked her head out and looked around to find out if he was alone. “No. It’s late. I was just going to bed, and I’m not accepting visitors.”

Jacob pushed her and the slave aside, strode into the drawing room, and waited for du Pont to join him. He warmed his hands by the fire and glanced at his tired bearded face in the mirror above the fireplace. “I see you have another slave,” he said when she entered the room.

“I have, and I plan to get more. What’s it to you?”

“Just an observation,” Jacob said.

“John Manning, my dear friend, got her for me. John and I have been stepping out together, you know. So, Mr Stone, why are you here?”

Jacob continued to stand in front of the fire but turned to face her. “Oh, I think you know.”

“No, I don’t know, so you best be telling me before I throw you out.”

Jacob laughed at her. “I’ll leave when I get what I’ve come for. Don’t threaten me.”

“Well, go on; out with it, then.”

“I want information about Mercy Carver,” he told her.

“Mercy Carver? Why do you want to know about her? I do know her, of course, but I can’t help you. I don’t know where the girl is – England, I suppose. She was just a well-used whore who came to me for a job, just like all the other whores did. You must know this, Mr Stone – you visited my mansion many times to fuck my girls.”

Jacob felt his rage rise to the surface. He returned her contemptuous look. “Yep, I guess I did, so you can drop the ‘Mrs Mallory’ act with me. I know who and what you are. I know the truth about how you acquired your whores. I know that you beat them, tortured them, and killed God knows how many. I despise you. If I weren’t a law-abiding citizen, I’d take you to that basement of yours, shackle you to the wall, and beat you to death. But I’m not like you. I’m a decent human being.”

Madam du Pont sat in an armchair and stared with loathing at Jacob. “If you think your insults bother me, you’re mistaken. I’ve known tougher men than you who tried to best me and couldn’t. Let’s just get down to business. You want to know about Mercy Carver, and I want to know why you haven’t told anyone who I am and how we met in Liverpool. Am I correct?”

“That’s about right, so let’s not waste any more time. There’s no civility here between us. What do you know about Mercy Carver’s whereabouts?” Jacob asked.

“All I know is that she was in Portsmouth and then disappeared. I was shocked to learn she was here. How the hell she managed to get herself on a ship to America, I’ll never know. What’s your interest in her?”

“It doesn’t matter what my interest is. I’m here for answers, and you’re going to give them to me. I know she was in this house. Your man Eddie abducted her. I know this because the two slave girls you murdered told me that she’d been imprisoned here and had escaped. They told me everything before they died at your hands.” Jacob saw and heard her intake of breath. “Don’t waste my time denying it. We both know it’s the truth, so don’t insult me with lies. You tortured and killed your slaves. I know you got information from them. I’ll stand here all night until you tell me exactly what they told you about the night your two men were killed.”

“They were murdered in cold blood!”

“I don’t think so. They probably deserved to die, same as you.”

“I’ll report you to the sheriff, so I will. You’ve no right to be here, butchering me like this. You’re trespassing, and I can get you charged for that!

“I told you once, and I’ll tell you again – don’t threaten me.”

“It’s not a threat. I’ll do it. I’ll drag your bloody name in the mud. What would your wife think of this, you barging in here without so much as a by-your-leave? I’ve been seeing a lot of your Elizabeth. Me and her have been keeping company ever since you went off gallivanting, looking for your whore. I’m having lunch with her tomorrow. She’s become quite dependent on me. I’m such a good listener, and she has so much to say about you.”

“You’ll stay away from my wife!” Jacob blazed.

“Oh, hit a nerve, have I? Well, it’s too late for that. She’s told me all about you being a rotten husband, and she’ll be telling a lot more people soon, you mark my words. She likes my company, and I have a lot of tasty titbits to tell her, none of them nice where you and Mercy Carver are concerned. So don’t you bloody tell me what to do. I’ll swat you like a fly! That’s right, Mr Stone, you just try telling tales on me to your wife or keep me away from her and we’ll see who’s sorry then. If you make any accusations against me, I’ll make sure there’s a warrant out for Mercy Carver on a charge of murder.

“I’ll tell everyone you killed my two slave girls and buried them in my garden. Oh, I know where you put them all right, and I know it was you – and probably your brother and that Isaac. I’ll take you and your whore to the depths of hell with me if you don’t leave me alone to get on with my life in peace.” She shot him a look filled with hatred.

“You’ll never have peace, not while I’m alive,” Jacob told her.

“Don’t you dare bully me, ya big bugger! I’ll not be having it. Mercy Carver
was
here, though I doubt she was abducted. Do you want to know what those black bitches said? They said Carver killed my Eddie and Moses. They told me she took off with that black git, Nelson, and they said she wasn’t sorry for killing poor Eddie. There, what do you think of that?” She glared at him.

Jacob digested her every word. She had just confirmed that Mercy had been alive and well when she had left the farm. He remained outwardly calm, but his heart was thumping. He’d never wanted to kill before, but he did now. It would be a pleasure to wring du Pont’s neck.

“Did the slaves tell you where she was headed?”

“No! I’m telling you nothing else.”

“Listen carefully. You
will
stay away from my wife. You won’t go near my brother and sister-in-law either. And if you call Mercy a whore once more, I’ll break your damn neck. I’m warning you: don’t take my reticence to dispose of you for weakness. I will destroy you when I’m ready.”

“You can’t destroy me! Didn’t you hear what I just said? Mercy Carver murdered my Eddie and Moses. I have the sheriff in the palm of my hand and his cock in my mouth to keep him happy. I’ve got your wife running after me like a puppy dog because you’re neglectful of her. I have Virginia’s finest inviting me to their parties, and I have enough dirt on you and Mercy Carver to bury you both. So tell me, what are you going to do for me? Are you going to keep your mouth shut or are you going to force me to cry like your mealy-mouthed wife and tell everyone what Mercy Carver and you have done?”

Jacob was losing patience. She had ingratiated herself into his family. He dreaded to think about what Hendry and Belle must be going through. They had obviously not given her real identity away or acknowledged it. She had also gotten Sheriff Manning into her bed. She was toying with him, and he now knew that talking was not going to get him the information he needed.

She sat back with a look of satisfaction on her face.

Jacob’s anger was mounting. His breathing quickened; he was being consumed by hatred. Storming across the room, he ripped the wig from her head. She squealed, and a fearful expression crossed her face. He pulled her out of the chair, marching her to the mirror with his hand gripping the back of her neck. The kohl along her bottom eyelids ran in straight lines down her cheeks, along with her face powder and tears. His heavy hand drew across her eyes and mouth, swiping the red paint off her lips until it was all over her cheeks, chin, and jawbone. He pushed her face towards the mirror until her nose touched it. He forced her to look at her reflection, fingers digging into her skin.

“Look at yourself. Take a good long look at your balding scabby head. See your wrinkly skin and ugly face. Look at all the ugliness inside you, out in the open, sitting on your face. I’ll drag you down the Portsmouth Road like this. I am one of the most powerful men in Virginia. There is not a politician, judge, or jury that won’t do my bidding. So don’t test my patience, you damn murdering whore!”

Her fear was visible as she stared at her reflection, seemingly mesmerised. “You’re a bastard. I’ll scream, and my slave will come running,” she hissed at him.

Jacob drew his gun, turned du Pont around to face him, and pressed the tip of his Colt to her forehead. He pushed it hard against her skin, giving it a circular dent. He cocked the gun and stared into her face with eyes blazing. “Make a sound and I’ll blow your head into this damn mirror. Now tell me about the night Mercy Carver was here – everything.”

“I need your word that you’ll keep your mouth shut about me.” She was sobbing now.

“You’re in no position to bargain, and stop the tears. You’re not human enough to cry. Start talking,” he ordered.

“The slaves … told me that she looked at a map. She had this stupid notion of getting to the North with the slave, Nelson. The girls wouldn’t tell me at first, but then they spilled their guts. They gave her food, and she stole guns. The bitch took the same gun she killed Eddie with. That’s all I know. I don’t know anything else!”

Jacob believed her. He re-holstered his gun and then pulled her back from the mirror and threw her into the chair. He picked up her wig and tossed it into the fire before turning to face her.

“You’ve tested my patience, du Pont. Way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can leave now and never come back, and you might live a long and miserable life cos that’s what you deserve. Or you can remain here. But if you decide to stay, know that I will make your life hell and it will
be short. I may not do what I’m aiming to do today or tomorrow, but your past
will
catch up with you. You have my word that I am going to end you for what you did to Mercy and those innocent girls, both here and in Liverpool. You won’t walk down a street in Virginia without looking over your shoulder; I’ll always be watching, deciding whether it’s the day to abduct you, take you to a backwater swamp, and cut your throat wide open.”

“You can’t talk to me like this! You can’t tell a woman you’re going to kill her and get away with it. You hurt my head, ya bugger!” she screamed at him.