Chapter Eighteen

THE FIRST SECTION:

David paced back and forth the entire evening waiting for what he assumed would be the Constable knocking on his door. It was inevitable that he would be visited considering it was he they caught with the stolen goods just a few days before. But it was not the visit that he was worried about, it was what he was going to say. He knew that the bullies would be prime suspects and he could certainly pin the blame on them. But to lie in such a way would tear him a part inside for the rest of his life. It would be no better, worse in fact, if he turned in the children, especially Lewis. Over and over again he went over the scenarios. If he turned in the bullies he could keep Lewis but he would be condemning innocent people, even if they were guilty of other acts that they routinely got away with. But if he turned in Lewis and Willie, he would lose his life as he knew it. It was not a great life, but Willie was a good kid with great parents. Christopher and Penelope had always been there for him. To destroy their lives almost seemed worse than turning in the bullies. And of course there was Lewis. Here was this boy, his son, who had no idea about life beyond his childish world. In fact, it seemed that Lewis behaved as though he were much younger than he really was. It was as though a mental wall had been placed over the conditions that they lived in, and Lewis never knew enough to understand why they lived they way they did. To put him out of his misery and to protect him from the future almost convinced David to put the blame on his son. But of course he felt that Lewis could grow out of this immaturity and someday become a great man, in much the same way he hoped he could become by uncovering the bullies’ strange behavior.

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As the hours wore on, David became more and more concerned about his well-being. Not only was the time for the knock on the door to arrive, but so was the notion building that he would not be treated very well in the presence of such an authoritative man. Soon the darkness gave way to the early morning light and the moment David had been so afraid of came. Knock…knock…knock.

David trembled at the sound but walked to the door like a man who knew was going to die regardless of the outcome. When he opened the door he saw three men standing in front of him, one of whom was the Constable himself.

“May we come in,” he asked David. The Constable did not even wait for an answer. Instead he calmly walked inside and surveyed the room. “Nice place you have here,” he said looking around. “Not that I would ever live in this filth, but it must work for you.”

“I do my best,” David said. He began to shake.

“How do you pay for such a place?” the Constable asked. “This must cost you most of your daily wages does it not?”

“It is rather expensive for me, yes,” David answered. He began to say that he had a son he had to take care of but stopped short of saying anything about Lewis.

“And with what wages then?” The Constable asked a bit more sternly. “You have not worked for a while. At least they have not seen you on the docks for some time.”

“It is probably time for me to move out and find a new place,” David admitted.

“Or does that have to do with your recent activities?” the Constable accused David.

Unsure of what the Constable was getting at, David proceeded carefully. “Which activities? I am not sure what you mean.”

The Constable chuckled at this and then brought a large stick across David’s back, sending David to the ground. “What do you mean you do not know? It was only a few days ago when you were caught with all of those stolen goods.”

David coughed from the force of the blow. He tried stand up but one of the other men kicked him from behind, forcing David back down to the ground. “That was not me,” he said. “I swear, It was not I who stole those things. I had just found them there.”

“Oh we know that was your story,” the Constable interrupted, “but do not think for a moment that we believe you. You must have had something to do with it all or else you would not have known where they were. And I am sure with your connections, and by that I mean because of you we found the actual culprits, I am sure that you know who killed the mayor’s daughter last night.” The Constable clubbed David a second time, this time a stream of blood emerged from his left temple. “We can handle thieves all right. You saw what happened here the other day. Not a soul was spared if we could help it. I do not think there will be many thefts in the near future do you?”

David shook his head no. He wanted desperately to get up but could not find the balance to do so.

“But murder is another thing,” the Constable continued. “And when it is the mayor’s daughter and the wife of a prominent and classy man such as Coleman Montague, well, you might want to believe that we are looking for the person who did this and not just to curb a culture of thieves.”

“How do you know it was not an accident?’ David asked. “Maybe she hurt herself.”

The Constable rushed over to David and grabbed a hold of his throat. “How do you know it might have been an accident? How could you possibly know that she might have hurt herself? All I have said so far is that she was murdered, and now you bring this up?”

“I don’t” David started to say. The choke hold that the Constable had on him was preventing him from speaking as easily as he would have liked to. “I don’t know. I just guessed. Maybe it was an accident. That is all.”

“I don’t believe you,” the Constable said. He then ordered his men to start beating David until he confessed and handed his stick to one of the men. Together, the men took turns holding David upright while the other clubbed him until David could barely crawl on his own. “This is a murder investigation my friend,” the Constable continued. “Why is it that you people try to mess things up? It is pretty straight forward if you ask me. They have their nice homes and pay for your jobs and all you have to do is to stay out their way. Which you don’t. Instead you cry like babies. You pick our pockets, you steal our silver and now you kill our leaders. And for what? To have a better life? Do you think this is going to make for a better life for you? You have no life now. You have nothing. As far as we are concerned you are going to confess. Unless of course you can tell us who did this. Then we will leave you…and your son alone.”

This last comment surprised David. He was unaware that the Constable had previously known about Lewis. “Not my son,” David pleaded. “He did not do this. I don’t know who did, but it was not him. I am sure of that.”

Another kick and slap of the stick kept David on the ground. The bruises he had sustained form the riot were starting to reopen and blood was seeping from his cuts all over his body. For him, there was no other choice but to blame the bullies to stop this punishment. “It was a group of young kids,” he said. “I heard them last night, hiding in the stairwell. They were running away from some men outside. I heard them say they did it.”

One of the Constable’s men looked at the Constable and said, “He is telling the truth about that. I remember them running out of here last night.”

The Constable leaned over and picked David’s head up and smiled at him. He laughed and said, “That is a good man. You are saying something at least. But there is a problem with what you say.” The Constable looked at the man and asked him, “Where did you start to chase them?”
“We started chasing them from the meadow sir,” he replied. “They came out to see the body and ran up the stairs. We thought they had seen something, but when we caught them they had not. They were just afraid. Just kids.”

“Just afraid. Just kids. Not even there,” the Constable prodded David. He then punched David in the head and watched his head ricochet off the floor. “Now tell me. What do you know? And let me remind you, we are ready to stay here a while. Until you either confess or die. I do not really care which happens. Because even if you do die, I will find out who did this anyway. Even if I have to go household to household. Can you see that house over there? The one with all the dirty rats you call kids? We are going there next. I hear the father is a friend of yours and was pretty badly beat up the other day. It seems to me he could have asked for revenge?”

David thought about what was going to happen to him if he did not say a word. And then he thought of Lewis. He knew that Lewis would be taken care of he just died. He could not fight back anymore and he knew that Lewis was all he had to look forward to. The boy was going to have to learn on his own. He was going to have to survive on his own. David had made up his mind. The Constable ordered his men to beat David and David took the beating until he was absolutely motionless. When the Constable was convinced he was dead, he walked out of the room and left David lying there.

Fortunately for David, however, he was still able to hear well enough to know when the men had left the building. And when they did, he used all of his energy over the next several minutes to climb to the window. When he was able to prop himself up on the windowsill he saw through the blood stains his hands left on the glass out into the street. In front of the fish shop was a wagon being filled with potential suspects, and among them were Penelope, a severely beaten Christopher and to David’s shock, William. He slid down to the floor and started to cry.

“What have I done?” he shouted at himself. “What has happened to me? My friends? Lewis?” As David asked himself these questions over and over the emotional pain of not protecting his friends hurt more than the physical pain of the beating. In all of the thoughts he had from the evening before, he had never once thought that he would feel so guilty for not turning in anybody at all. He did not consider for a moment what the Constable would do to find the woman’s killer. In fact, as he took the beating he became convinced that by doing nothing he could spare the entire community by dying. That way the mayor could have his culprit and the real offender, William, could get away without much more than a hard earned lesson in life. But now that was simply not true. Christopher had been beaten again and the Constable had arrested he, his son and his wife. They were going to suffer over a mistake, an accident, and he could have prevented it just by taking the blame. As he cried and tormented over his guilt, David spied a length of rope out of the corner of his eye and it captivated him.

*******

Richard waited for Coleman to arrive at his office and by mid-morning the young man had shown up as expected. While Richard was torn about the death of his daughter, he felt the need to remain cordial toward Coleman in order to pull this deal off. He was certain that while Coleman may not have directly killed Emily, he was the one who drove her away. That conversation we had the other day was the best thing I could have done with Emily, he thought.

“Before we start sir,” Coleman began, “I would like to say once again how…sorry I am for you…and myself. It will be a while before I am over this and would ask your permission to seek your advice on such matters.”

Richard was stunned. It was not like Coleman to talk like this, and never once had he mentioned Emily’s mother until now. At first, Richard was too taken aback to understand that Coleman was being genuine in his request. But the more he thought about it he realized that the pain of losing his wife was still with him and would likely never fade away. They could be political and business enemies, but they were now forever bound to feel the same pain. There would have to be a measure of personal respect between them from then on out.

“I appreciate your offer to share your hurt feelings,” Richard replied. “I believe that I can accommodate you during your times of need. I do not believe that I will be coming to you to speak of my wife, but we can certainly talk to help you ease your pain. I know that I needed that early on.”

“Thank you sir,” Coleman said, “but maybe I could be of assistance to you as well?”

Richard paused and glanced out the window toward the river before replying, “It is different. I am an old man and have dealt with these thoughts on my own. I will not be here forever to help you and you will be fine later in life on your own as I am. Let us leave it at that.”

Coleman accepted Richard’s wish and then changed the subject, “So what was it that you wanted to see me for?”

“I have a proposition for you Coleman,” Richard said. “It may sound bizarre at first, but I think that it would help you and myself in several different ways.”

“Go on,” Coleman said.

“It is about the warehouses that you own,” Richard explained. “We need greater revenue here in the city, over the long term. Much damage has been done the past few days, business is slow in the harbor and people are trying to pull out. Just recently we had to buy back a couple of facilities belonging to Reginald. He cannot seem to afford to control his costs up here so he felt the need to sell.”

“And what would you propose then?” Coleman interrupted. “Because I could be in the business of selling off some of ours, to shift funds to my father’s other ventures.”

Richard was stunned again. He never thought that Coleman would actually offer to sell the warehouses. In fact, the more Richard thought about it, he was making a case for selling the spare warehouses to Coleman, not the other way around.

“Yes,” Richard said, “I think that is what I am speaking of. We are looking to gain rents from the holding facilities. We think that we can actually make more money in the long term by renting them out instead.”

“Then I think that we can do business,” Coleman affirmed. “Shall we say three-quarters of the market price?”

“Let me look at my books for a minute,” Richard said. “I need to double check my figures.”
Richard was beginning to sweat now. The price was too good. Coleman must have been up to something. There was no way that he would make such an under-market offer without having a way to make money in the end. But the more Richard thought about the price, the more he understood what Coleman was trying to do. He is trying to catch me in a declining market, he thought. There must be something about the industry that he does not know. Does he know about Reginald? Are he and Reginald working together? Richard could not get the thought out of his head that the only way Coleman could stand to make any money was to re-purchase the warehouses later on when the market had completely flattened and there were no more revenues coming in. And what if Reginald was involved? he asked himself. Would Reginald swoop in and buy the warehouses at the discounted price for Coleman? The answer was slowly becoming clear. Reginald was not in on the deal because he wanted to purchase the warehouses now and Coleman would be looking to repurchase them a year or two in the future.

“The price is a little higher than I prefer,” Richard answered, “but considering our recent tragedies, I think it will go a long way to accept your offer.”

“Mine was based on that very notion as well,” Coleman said while shaking Richard’s hand. “It seems to me that a little bit of goodwill could go a long way. But I do have one item that I would like to discuss, and that is about Sarah. She has been rather adamant about Emily’s burial place. It frustrates me that she will not leave Emily’s side until she is buried. Is there anything you can do?”

Richard looked at Coleman and frowned, “I apologize Coleman. I gave her permission to stand by Emily as long as she wanted to. They were childhood friends you know. I should have considered that she would be there in your home and that it was not my place to allow her remain there so. But if you could spare her feelings as well, I am sure that all will be gracious in the end?”