“I'm surprised you attended.”
“It got me out of the house. I simply dressed in black. I walked with Llewellyn Boxer, not arm in arm, to the cemetery. Amen. Amen. And how do you suppose I spent the hour or two after?”
“I don't want to guess.”
“All right, I'll tell you. The only men I'd ever known intimately were either dead or in Halifax getting married. I couldn't freely go out and shoot ducks. Most ducks were gone from the harbor, anyway. I couldn't leave this house. House arrest. And Llewellyn Boxer saw that my poor brain was on the loose. We sat at the table and I just started to talk. Talked and talked and talked. I fixed us each a sandwich. The poor boy. He got an earful, but don't ask me of what. I can't remember what I said at all. It was just talk. And when I was done, I wanted to take a nap and told Llewellyn Boxer. He just said, âFine,' as if I'd used up every other word in the dictionary, with all my talking. And I slept the rest of the day and night. And as you well know, that's not a traditional habit with me.”
Margaret walked to the window and looked out. “Hey, look!” she said. She opened the door and dragged in her childhood bicycle. “My father must have brought it. He didn't knock to say hello, though.”
“He might have been afraid of violating house arrest.”
“He might have.”
She propped the bicycle against the wall. She stooped and checked the spokes, the tires, the handlebars. “My pop's got this in top shape,” she said.
“I'm going over to the sofa now,” I said. “I'll stay to one side of it, if you want the other. I'm more tired than I thought.”
“No, help yourself. I'll sit awhile.”
I fell off quickly. The next morning, I found Margaret asleep at the table. The bottle was empty.
My mother was making tea. Mitchell Kelb was smoking a cigar on the porch.
“Margaret was talking in her sleep,” my mother said. “It woke me. I came out to listen, but for the life of me, and I leaned close, I couldn't make out a word she said.”
The hearing was held in Gillette's store.
Romeo sat on a barrel of nails, in the front row of barrels. To his immediate left sat Boas LaCotte. To his right, Enoch Handle. Margaret, my mother, and I sat at the defendant's table, to the direct right of the judge's table at the front of the store. The hearing was popular. There was want of room. People even sat on the porch, dressed in coats and sweaters.
As a formality, Mitchell Kelb stood up from his seat at the judge's table and announced, “November two, nineteen and eleven, ten o'clock in the morning.”
“Duly noted,” Mekeel Dollard said. She was taking down the proceedings in shorthand.
“Now, this is just a preliminary hearing,” Kelb said. “To
determine whether to transfer it up to St. John's, where the worst crimes end up. I'd sent, as some of you know, Enoch Handle up to St. John's to fetch a presiding judge. Honorable Judge H. L. Fain. But Enoch Handle returned to say that Judge Fain is bedridden, and he's appointed me representative of His Majesty. Representative magistrate. So that's what I am to you. I didn't expect this, but now it's official.”
He fell silent. He closed his eyes a moment. Then he looked at the gathering. “I'll tell you a thimbleful about myself,” he said. “Then we'll get on with it. I was born in Cupids, Newfoundland, in 1864, but by the time I was three I was in England. That's private family circumstances. I grew up there, and when I came back I was trained in law enforcement in St. John's, paid for by the crown. I had a year of law books to boot. I've presided over one previous hearing, but that was merely for theft.”
Kelb paused. “Now,” he said, “who examined the body?”
“I did,” Romeo said.
“Stand up.”
Romeo stood.
“Why you?”
“I'm half a doctor,” Romeo said.
“And what did you discover in your examination?”
“Three bullets hit Botho August.”
“And that makes up the physical evidence, three bullets?”
“Yes. Plus the revolver.” He pointed to the revolver on the table.
“Thank you, Mr. Gillette. Mrs. Dollard, did you get all that?”
“Yes,” Mekeel Dollard said.
“Good.”
Romeo sat down.
“We'll talk about the revolver now,” Kelb said.
But there was a commotion in the back of the store. Along the middle aisle people stepped back. I saw Bevel Cabot, Miriam Auster, Giles LaCotte, Ruth Henley, Olive Perrault. Toward the back were Elmer Wyatt, Peter Kieley, Patrick Flood holding his son Colin, Seamus Doyle. Carrying a Bible, Reverend Sillet made his way to the front. He stood sideways to Kelb, facing me and Margaret. “If one be found slain,” he said, reciting by heart. But now he opened the Bible. “âin the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee to possess it, lying in the field, and it be not known who hath slain him: Then thy elders and thy judges shall come forth, and they shall measure unto the cities which are round about him that is slain: And it shall be, that the city which is next unto the slain man, even the elders of that city shall take an heiferâ”
“Reverend Sillet, sit down,” Kelb said.
Sillet ignored him and went on: “âheifer which hath not been wrought with, and which hath not drawn in the yoke; And the elders of that city shall bring down the heifer unto a rough valley, which is neither eared nor sown, and shall strike off the heifer's neck thereâ”
“Mrs. Dollard,” Kelb said, “this is not testimony. Don't bother.”
“âin the valley: And the priests the sons of Levi shall come near; for them the Lord thy God hath chosen to minister unto him, and to bless in the name of the Lord; and
by their word shall every controversy and every stroke be tried: And all the elders of that city, that are next unto the slain man, shall wash their hands over the heifer that is beheaded in the valley: And they shall answer and say, Our hands have not shed this blood, neither have our eyes seen it. Be merciful, O Lord, unto thy people Israel, whom thou hast redeemed, and lay not innocent blood unto thy people of Israel's charge. And the blood shall be forgiven them.”
Sillett glowered at Kelb. “Deuteronomy 21:1â8,” he said. He then all but pulled a barrel out from under Boas LaCotte and maneuvered it next to the judge's table as Boas stepped to the wall. He sat down on the barrel, staring fixedly toward the back of the store. He slapped the closed Bible once against his open hand.
John Rut, a man who had fished off Newfoundland for forty years, called out, “There's no Levis who live here, so there's no goddamned sons of Levi.”
“Mr. Rut, it is, I believe,” Kelb said. “I didn't ask your opinion.”
“I'll offer it, anyway, free of charge. My opinion is this: Somebody
did
shed some blood, and whoever did probably watched themselves do it. Their eyes
did
see it done. Why not ask, Mr. Kelb, straight out. Ask one question straight out: âIs there anyone here in this room murdered the lighthouse keeper Botho August?' It might get direct results.”
“That's maybe more effective than English proceedings,” Kelb said, “but it's not my protocol here. The truth doesn't usually come that quick in such cases, anyway.”
“It came quick to Botho August,” Rut said. “It came quick three times.”
“Let's stay calm and clear-headed and respectful here,” Kelb said. “This is not an easy task. Here are three people whom you've known many years: Margaret Handle, Fabian Vas, Alaric Vas. Plus Orkney Vas, not here today, but still, you've known him and he is on trial. Calm and respectful, please. I don't want to have to clear the store. Now I want to continue. I want to follow the revolver. Mr. Gillette, do you keep transactions written down?”
Sillet slapped the Bible. Kelb glared at him and Sillet stayed quiet.
“Yes,” said Romeo. “For the past eight years, I've jotted things down and Margaret Handle tallies them up. She keeps the ledgers. She keeps them in her attic.”
“Previous to today, did I ask you to look up the particular revolver in question?”
“Yes, you did. You said to look it up and see if Orkney Vas, Alaric Vas, Fabian Vas, or Margaret Handle ever bought it from me.”
“What did the ledgers say?”
“Margaret Handle bought it from me on September 5, 1908. She put it in the ledger herself. In her own writing.”
Kelb looked at Mekeel Dollard and spoke slowly: “Now, I've had three men, pretty much bullet and gun experts in Witless Bay, match up the murder bullets to this revolver. Two were in Botho August. The one in the neck and the gut shot. At first the one that went through the high ribs was missing. But later we found it on the ground.”
Sillet was overwhelmed and stood up. He pointed at Margaret. “I hope you're not carrying Botho August's child!” he said. “Because if you are, you only need to turn to chapter
and verse, you'll see there are things a person can do that'll put a curse on a family, legitimate or not, for a hundred generations.”
“Reverend Sillet!” Kelb said, slamming his fist on the table. “We're establishing the nature of the actual shooting itself, slow as the truth comes. We're conducting a hearing, not a Sunday-school class. If need be, we'll hear about relations between Mr. August and Miss Handle later on. I won't tolerate your interruptions.”
“God held the first trial. He has to be present at every one.”
“All right, He's here. Are you satisfied, Reverend? You seem to want a drama of your own making.”
“Why not go upstairs to the lighthouse,” Margaret said to Sillet, “put on one of Botho's gramophone records, sing at the top of your voice, âAlmighty Vast and Blessed Is Thine Heart That Confer Baptism Upon the Very Creatures of Thy Wondrous Sea,' window open, citizens of this fine village paying a price for a ticket?”
“A murder shouldn't draw out her sense of humor, should it, now, Mr. Kelb?”
“I adjourn,” Kelb said. “I'm a magistrate highly annoyed just now.”
“It's been just over an hour, though,” Mekeel Dollard said.
“Well, note that down, then.”
Sitting at my father's place at our table, Kelb unpacked his lunch. He set out a cold baked potato, then poured a glass of water from the pitcher. He took out a jackknife,
then a small whetstone. He sharpened the knife. He cut the potato into four equal parts. He stuck the knife into a piece and put it into his mouth. He wiped the knife across his trouser knee, then set it on the table. My mother sat down with a cup of tea across from Kelb. Margaret and I sat in the other two chairs.
“Mr. Kelb,” my mother said, “would you care for some potato-leek soup, like the rest of us?”
“I prefer my potatoes out of soup.”
“Mr. Kelb, do you think that our hearing will last until Guy Fawkes?”
One of the traditional festivals was Guy Fawkes Night, held on November 5. Huge bonfires were lit in memory of the attempt to blow up the Parliament buildings in the time of King James I. People stacked up green boughs, and tar barrels were used to make a thick smoke, and people danced in and out of the smoke, colliding, laughing, shouting. This went on in most Newfoundland villages. It was Romeo Gillette's favorite holiday, more than Canadian Thanksgiving or Christmas.
“It might well,” Kelb said. “It's hard to predict how long a hearing will last.”
“Because if it does,” my mother said, “you should really see it here in Witless Bay. The festivities, I mean. People do have great fun.”
“It'd be awkward, me being a representative of the crown.”
“Do you mean to say that you've never attended one single Guy Fawkes?”
“If I went this year I'd be a novice.”
He took up another piece of potato with his knife, ate it, and again cleaned the blade on his knee. He took a sip of water.
“A novice gets smeared with ashes, isn't that right?” Kelb said.
“But once that's over, you can have a wonderful time,” my mother said.
“I just might go. If the hearing lasts till then, naturally. I'm sure there's somebody who'd take my guard duties for an hour or two, which is all I'd attend for.”
“There's a feast, too. Better than this prison food you eat,” my mother said.
“I'll finish my meal now,” Kelb said. “Then I'll escort you all back to the store.”
Margaret and I each finished our soup. I had two cups of coffee. My mother sat and watched Kelb eat.
“Is there any pepper?” Kelb asked.
“Sorry, no,” my mother said.
Kelb sprinkled salt on the two remaining pieces, ate one with quick dispatch, washing it down with water. The other piece he wrapped in a cloth handkerchief and put in his suitcoat pocket. He stood up.