Accidents of Providence Read Online Free PDF Page A

wealth, a veritable storehouse, of information concerning her. I have taken the liberty of conducting research to aid your investigation. I have left no stone unturned. You will have all the information you need by the time I am finished. Here are my research notes.” He reached inside his vest and withdrew some papers.    “How do you know all this?”
    “I told you. Research.”
    “You mean gossip.”
    “Never,” Kiffin protested.
    “Just stay with the facts you observed.” Bartwain pressed his hand against his rumbling stomach.
    “The day after Rachel Lockyer took the babe out to the woods and buried it, Widow du Gard returned to retrieve what was there. When she carried the child back to the glove shop she demanded an accounting. This caused her—Miss Lockyer—to fall into a mad grief, nearly to faint, and then to grab the infant to her bosom, clutching it and shrieking and saying, ‘It is my poor babe you have found; it is mine.’”
    “Were you there?” Bartwain’s quill hovered over his paper.
    “Everyone knows what happened. It is all over the neighborhood.”
    “Tell me what
you
know, Preacher, or I will strike your testimony.”
    Kiffin’s smile grew acerbic. “Well, some weeks earlier I had spoken with Widow du Gard about what to do if she should discover Rachel Lockyer in a state of childbirth, for it had occurred to some of us that she might be in a pickle.”
    “A pickle?”
    “Yes. With child. That’s how the matrons put it. Also, ‘the rising of the apron.’”
    “I see.” You are a matron yourself, Bartwain thought. “And how did you come to hold this suspicion?”
    “She wore her skirts too high on the waist.”
    “Is that all?”
    “Mrs. Chidley also inspected her breasts for hardness. I did not inspect her myself, of course.”
    “Go on.”
    “When our suspicions turned out to be correct, I traveled to Warwick Lane to assist. This was after the Widow du Gard returned from the woods. She sent for me along with the coroner.”
    “Did Rachel Lockyer concede the child was hers?”
    “She did not have to. It was so obvious. I sat her, Miss Lockyer, down at the sewing table. I had to yank that thing from her arms. She did not want to let go of it. I told her it was nothing to hold on to. I reminded her that souls do not inhabit the body once we die. ‘You are holding dust,’ I said. Still she would not give it up. She is stubborn and unreasonable.”
    “Did you ask her what had happened?”
    “I did. I asked her to make a confession.”
    “Did she?”
    “No. She cursed me. Twice, in fact.”
    “What else?”
    “We waited for the coroner. While we were waiting, Mrs. Chidley arrived and examined Rachel’s physical person to verify she had given birth.”
    During Bartwain’s interview with Katherine Chidley, the haberdasher had reported squeezing milk from Rachel’s breasts and pulling up her skirts to find significant staining of the undergarments. Bartwain starred this note in his papers. It was as good a confirmation of pregnancy as he generally got in these cases. “Go on.”
    “When Mrs. Chidley finished her examination, I tried one more time to get Miss Lockyer to say the truth.”
    “Did you learn anything?”
    “Nothing. Mr. Bartwain, it is so obvious what happened I cannot comprehend why you have waited ten days to issue an indictment. Clearly the woman murdered it. Else why would she be so secretive?”
    Bartwain, pondering, chewed the inside of his cheek. “That is for me to determine. I will interview her myself this evening.”
    “If you speak with her, she will try to seduce you. She is cunning. You do not need to interview her to know she is guilty. Look at the facts. The case is open and shut.”
    “Nothing is ever open and shut.” The investigator lumbered to his feet. “You might be called to speak again if there is a trial, Preacher. Be sure you give
your
testimony and not anyone else’s.”
    After Kiffin left, Bartwain picked up his