Must the Maiden Die (36 page)

"Depends what you've come for," said Fowler,
chewing on a stalk of field grass.

"May I ask what's happened?"

"Well, you come on up here, Miss Tryon, and
I'll show you."

She climbed the steps with misgiving,
expecting that Erich, or even Konrad, would come hurtling through
the doorway, demanding that she leave their property. She had
anticipated that, however, and had an excuse ready. What she had
not anticipated was the sign at which Sheriff Fowler was pointing.
Nailed to the front door, it read:
Notice of levy and
attachment, by order of the Seneca County Sheriff.
Beneath was
scrawled Matt Fowler's signature.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," she said,
thoroughly bewildered because she knew the general meaning of the
notice.

"I'm impounding Roland Brant's property.
Seizing it at the direction of a creditor."

Glynis could hardly believe it, but she knew
Fowler too well to think he was joking.

"You look surprised," he said, "but not any
more than I'll bet I did. It's a shock, right?"

"Yes! Yes, it certainly is, Sheriff. A
creditor, you said. Someone to whom Roland Brant owed money?"

Fowler took her arm and marched her back
down the steps and a short distance from the house, before he said
quietly, "It seems Mr. Roland Brant left quite a few people unpaid.
Substantially unpaid. You might give your friend Constable Stuart
that piece of news"—his voice dropped even lower—"since I know he's
got a murder investigation on his hands. But you've earned a
reputation yourself in that area."

His smile didn't seem to be mocking her. He
would probably even answer more questions, but Glynis was so
stunned by this turn of events that she could barely think of one
to ask.

"Sheriff, does the levy include all the
property of Roland Brant?"

"All of it. I have a levy against his
personal property and his interests in any realty."

"But that wouldn't include Mrs.
Brant's...that is, Mrs.
Helga
Brant's dower interest, would
it?"

"No, you're right, Miss Tryon. Can't include
that."

Glynis nodded, trying to see how this latest
irregular piece might fit into the puzzle of Brant's death.

"Heard there was a confession to Brant's
murder," remarked Fowler. "That true?"

"It was a tainted confession, Sheriff, and
extremely unlikely to stand."

"That so? Hadn't heard that. So, why are you
here today?" He eyed the basket. "A social call?"

"Ah, yes, more or less. The family members
are here, aren't they?"

"Not all of them, but—"

"Sheriff Fowler?" The call came from one of
his men. "Sheriff, can you come over here?"

"Excuse me, Miss Tryon," he said and walked
toward the newly strung barrier, where men were fastening to the
rope a number of flags bearing the same message as the notice on
the door. The sheriff clearly meant business.

While Glynis couldn't begin to guess what
the implications of this seizure might be, she decided that
nothing had altered her purpose in coming here. She strolled toward
the porch, but went on past the steps and around a corner of the
house. Once she was beyond sight of Sheriff Fowler, she moved more
deliberately, hoping that one of the family inside was not looking
out a window. She was taking a chance by trespassing, but she
needed to confirm Tamar's story before she related it to Cullen.
And she assumed attention would be focused on the sheriff's
activities.

She slowed when she saw the small square of
glass that was the window of Tamar's room. Just beyond it was the
glass-paned door of Roland Brant's library.

She went along the house wall and edged up
beside the door. Humidity had caused condensation to form on the
panes and the sun hadn't reached it yet. From where she stood, the
moisture made it difficult to see into the library. If she moved
any closer, she would be visible if anyone were inside, but the
risk must be taken. She stepped forward and put her face to the
glass with her hands cupped around her eyes like blinders.

The desk on the Persian rug faced the room's
inner door to the hall. From Glynis's current vantage point, Tamar
would have been able to see Roland Brant's body to this side of the
desk. Especially if the door had been open. A casual passerby would
probably not. Which lent some credence to the family and staff's
assertion that the body had not been discovered until hours after
his death. And Tamar had also said that in her fright she could
have inadvertently pushed this outside door closed.

Glynis took a step back, and saw her face
mirrored in the panes of glass as if through wavering water, an
illusion created by the streaks of condensation. Last Monday
morning there had not only been mist but fog as well, so the
reflection effect could have been even more pronounced. Which meant
a deluded, panic-stricken girl might well have later imagined that
she had seen herself standing over the corpse of her tormentor.

Glynis turned and went back around the
house. She intended to enter by way of the kitchen, though by this
time she had not much hope of doing it without being seen. To her
relief, she reached the door unchallenged. It was not latched, and
when Glynis stepped into the kitchen, the first thing she noticed
was the smell of pot roast. Addie sat at the table shelling peas.
She glanced up at Glynis with no more reaction than if she had been
fully expecting her to appear.

"You again," she stated, cracking open a pod
and expertly running her thumb down the length of it, letting the
peas drop like green beads into a wooden bowl.

"Yes, as you see." Glynis, holding up the
wicker basket, explained, "I've come to collect Tamar Jager's
things."

"Guess she won't be coming back here," Addie
said, her square, brown face without expression.

"I think that's a safe guess."

"You hear the news?" Addie asked.

Glynis assumed she meant the property
seizure. "Yes, I just saw the sheriff."

"Sheriff?" Addie echoed with a frown.
"What's the sheriff got to do with it?"

"Got to do with
what?"
Glynis asked
in confusion.

Addie reached for more pea pods. "With Mr.
Konrad's going."

"Mr. Konrad's going...
where?"

"He's gone to war, that's where."

Glynis felt her knees weaken, and she
lowered herself into a chair opposite Addie. "Konrad Brant has left
town? When?"

"Left for the train station more'n an hour
back. Went to catch up with his company. Said the other men already
left here a few days ago."

"Konrad belongs to a militia company?"
Glynis said, before her memory belatedly brought back the bright
metal flag on his lapel. His elaborate toast to the Union.

Addie nodded matter-of-factly. "Been joined
up for some weeks."

"But...why...why would he leave now?" Glynis
stammered. "His father hasn't even been buried yet."

"All I know is that Mr. Konrad, he said word
come that in the next couple days his company's heading on down to
Washington. To protect the President, he said."

"Didn't his mother or brother try to keep
him here for the funeral?" asked Glynis, although perfectly aware
that patriotism had become an overriding passion in the minds of
many young men.

Addie shrugged. "S'none of my business. But
Mr. Erich took him to the station." Addie turned to glance out the
window, saying, "He's not come back with the carriage yet."

Glynis followed Addie's gaze, suddenly
recognizing that the stable and carriage house were in full view
from this kitchen window. "Addie, on the day after Mr. Brant was
killed—"

"How you know when he was killed?" Addie
broke in.

"I don't know for certain. But you didn't
see him Monday morning, did you?"

"I already told the constable ten times over
I didn't!"

"But did you see the girl, Tamar Jager,
anytime that day? See her from this window?"

Addie didn't meet her eyes, but continued to
strip peas from their pods.

"Please, you must tell me if you saw the
girl," Glynis pleaded. "It's important, Addie."

"Whose side you on now?" was her response,
accompanied by a long look.

Glynis stared back at the woman. "I'm trying
to save Tamar from being charged with Roland Brant's murder."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

Startled, Glynis managed to hold her tongue.
She leaned forward to cross her arms on the table, and waited.

Addie stood up with the bowl of peas and
started for the stove. As she passed Glynis, she said in a voice
just above a whisper, "I seen her leave on a horse."

"When?"

" 'Long 'bout late afternoon. Figured she
was running away."

"Running away? But Mr. Brant's body hadn't
been discovered yet, had it?"

"Nope. Anyhow, that's not why I thought she
was running."

Glynis felt anger flare as she looked
straight at the woman. "You knew what was being done to that girl,
didn't you? You knew!"

"I figured."

"And you never said a thing to anyone? You
just let that poor— "

"I told you, I need this job!" Addie
snapped. "And it weren't no worse'n what happens to slave women
down South."

Glynis let out her breath in a long sigh and
put her head down on her arms.

Power. Centuries old and unchanging.

The room was silent except for the ticking
pendulum of a clock.

At last Glynis rose from the chair. "I need
to get into Tamar's room," she told Addie. "Do you know if Mrs.
Brant—if both the Mrs. Brants are downstairs?"

"Don't think so. First was the uproar when
Mr. Konrad left. Didn't tell nobody ahead of time, he didn't, so
there was the devil to pay. Next thing that sheriff arrives. Think
those two women went upstairs and took to their beds. But they're
probably arguing like they always do. Don't even know if they're
going to eat dinner," Addie groused, pointing at the iron kettle
that obviously held the fragrant pot roast. "Nobody tells me
nothing."

"Had Erich left with Konrad before the
sheriff arrived?" Glynis asked.

"Yep."

Which meant Erich Brant might not yet know
of the sheriff's levy, although surely he must be aware of his
father's debts, Glynis thought. So that also meant the estate Erich
would expect to inherit had no worth. Had he known that last
Sunday? Perhaps not; or not until Derek Jager arrived. She took a
quick glance out the window. Seeing no one on the drive or
approaching the house, she picked up the basket and walked to the
doorway. After looking into the hall to see if the way was clear,
she hurried across into Tamar's room, closing the door quietly
behind her.

She went immediately to the mattress and got
down on her knees beside it. While she ran her hand between it and
the floor, she kept an ear cocked for the sound of approaching
footsteps, and inched her way around the mattress. And found
nothing. She went back around in the opposite direction. Nothing.
Tamar had said she kept it hidden under the mattress. Had someone
else already found it? The one thing that could all but clear Tamar
completely? Glynis straightened up on her knees and glanced around
the room. She was about to get to her feet when, in a last
desperate effort, she thrust her hand behind the mattress. Where it
met the wall, her fingers touched something cold.

She cautiously withdrew the knife. Holding
it by its bone handle, she looked closely at the long shining
blade. Clean as a cat's whiskers. It could not have been Tamar's
knife in Roland Brant's body. Not unless
three
kitchen
knives were missing.

Glynis let out the breath she'd been holding and
quickly got to her feet. Placing the knife in the bottom of the
basket, she collected Tamar's few items of clothing and laid them
over the knife. The hairbrush and book of poetry went in last,
along with the Bible. Glynis cast a final glance around and started
for the door, before she realized something was missing. She
searched the sparse room once again, and at last went back into the
kitchen.

"Where are the knives kept, Addie?"

The woman gave her a startled look, but
walked to a cupboard and opened the door, then pulled out a deep
drawer. Glynis went to stand beside her and peered into it. There
were six slots and four bone-handled knives.

"Where are the two knives that belong in
those?" Glynis said, testing Addie by pointing to the empty
slots.

"Well," Addie said, her face again without
expression, "I s'pect one of them went into Mr. Brant. And since
you just come out of that room, you probably know better'n me where
the other one is."

Satisfied, Glynis said, "So you don't think
Tamar killed Roland Brant?"

"No. Never did. But before you ask more of
your questions, I don't know who
did
kill him!"

Glynis believed that was probably true. She
pointed again to the drawer. "Is that the only place where knives
are kept?"

"Nope, there's small paring knives, but I
thought those'd be the ones you'd want to know about."

Glynis nodded and pulled one of the knives
from its slot. She looked at the keen blade, as she had the one in
Tamar's room, and again found the mark of its maker. The same mark
that was on the ones given to Emma as a wedding present by Helga
Brant.

"These knives look fairly new," Glynis said
to Addie. "Do you know where they came from?"

"From Mr. Brant himself—"

"Roland
Brant?" Glynis broke in.

Addie nodded. "Said he brought them back
from a business trip."

"A trip to the Syracuse area?"

Addie looked at Glynis as if she had just
pulled a rabbit from a hat. "That's so," she answered slowly,
continuing to eye Glynis with suspicion. "He said those knives were
made by...can't bring it to mind now, but the name sounded like one
of them Indian tribes."