The House of Closed Doors (21 page)

“A hungry idiot,” Joos said sullenly. “You think I make enough to eat by selling wood? The rotgut is how I live. A bit of bacon here, a few coins there, and from Blackie I got good eggs from your hencoop.” He grinned, showing several gaps in his teeth. “Leastways, I mostly got good eggs. That’s why I stopped trading with him for a while, because he gave me three rotten ones. Teach the old bastard a lesson. So I’m telling you, I didn’t give the stuff to him.”

“Who did you give it to, Joos?” Mrs. Lombardi’s voice was gentle. Joos crossed his arms across his sunken chest and seemed to be thinking.

At last he raised a bony hand and pointed in my direction. “I gave it to her,” he said.

I felt a mild swimming sensation in my head. He was not indicating me, of course. Tess had returned with Sarah, and he was pointing straight at her.

I
took Sarah from Tess and put my hand on my friend’s shoulder. She was trembling at having all eyes upon her; I felt her small hand reach up to grasp my own.

“Don’t you deny it, now,” said Joos. “Two weeks ago, it was. You were after me for the moonshine for weeks before I gave it you too. But maybe my price was a little high.” He leered at her.

“You are a bad man,” Tess said. “You wanted me to be like a Babylon woman with you. That is not right in God’s eyes.” Her stammer had become much more pronounced, but she held her head high.

The look that Mrs. Lombardi gave Joos should have felled him on the spot. “You asked for…
favors
?” She almost hissed out the word. “From Tess, of all people? You are disgusting.” She was white in the face.

“And you will never work for us again,” Mr. Schoeffel said. “We will get our firewood from the suppliers in Waukegan. I see you round here again, you better watch out.” His American accent had deteriorated, and the German immigrant was showing.

Joos’s mouth screwed itself into a tight twist of rage and resentment, but he said nothing. I curled my fingers into Tess’s shoulder and said softly, “Tess, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

Tess looked up at me and her almond eyes crinkled into a smile. “No, Nell, I gave him some eggs. I may be an
imbecile
,” she looked out of the corner of her eyes at our caretakers as she said it, “but I’m not
stupid
.”

“So it’s true then?” asked Pastor Lombardi. “You obtained some alcohol for Blackie?”

Tess hung her head. “Yes,” she whispered. “I wanted him to tell Nell who made Jo’s baby. He knew.”

“
Vas?
” cried Mr. Schoeffel, and he went off into a stream of incomprehensible German while the Lombardis both looked at me in astonishment. I nodded sadly.

“I was trying to get Blackie to tell me who this Ly-lee was,” I said. “I don’t think Jo hid herself in that room. I think someone shut her in there and that it was the same person who got her with child. Why else would he want to kill her? I think that he took advantage of your illness to somehow get the key and entice Jo into the insane wing. But without Blackie, I don’t think I’ll ever know who it was.”

“So you really did give Blackie that bottle?” Pastor Lombardi was a genial man in the normal run of things. Now his face was troubled and drawn.

“Yes,” Tess said again. “He was not happy that it was not whiskey.” She glanced at me with guilt written on her face. “You made me promise not to give him whiskey, Nell.”

I hid my face in my hands. We all underestimated Tess, that much was certain.

“But he said it was all right,” Tess continued. “He said I must fetch Nell round to the back of the barn, and he would tell her. He said he must tell her and not me. He said she was the right one to bring justice.”

Something seemed to click in my brain at that last remark, but I could not understand why it seemed so significant. Why me? Because I was also an unwed mother? But there were plenty of those around here.

“It was not enough to kill him,” Joos repeated stubbornly. “It was a very small amount. Do you think I would be so
dwaas
, so‌—‌“ he searched for the word, “‌—‌foolish?”

Pastor Lombardi turned on him suddenly. “It was poison to him,” he snapped. He glared at Joos as if he would have hit him, had he not been a man of God. “Get out of this place.”

Joos stuck his tongue into the corner of his cheek and slunk out, followed closely by Mr. Schoeffel. Which left us nowhere. Again. I had the feeling that I was standing before a gigantic spider’s web and tracing every silken thread to its source; but nowhere could I see the spider.

TWENTY-SIX

T
he lock on Mrs. Lombardi’s door clicked, and I straightened up from leaning against the corridor wall outside her office. Tess emerged from the room, her round face red and tearstained, and I hugged her tight to me.

“I have to work in the laundry.” Her stutter was much worse, and I had to concentrate to understand her. “It’s my punishment for giving Blackie the drink. I have to work there for three whole months. I can’t be your assistant, Nell.”

I resisted the urge to smooth her hair and dry her tears as if she were a child. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Tess was older than I.

“The time will pass quickly.” I placed my hands lightly on Tess’s shoulders and bent to look her in the face. “You will be back in the workroom before you know it.” And I would not be there; at least, I hoped I would think of a way to flee the Farm before then.
And track down a killer first,
said a small voice somewhere in my head.
Without putting yourself or Sarah into danger.
My insides churned.

“Tess.” Mrs. Lombardi’s voice was tired but kind. “It’s time to go to the refectory. Tomorrow morning you will report to Mrs. Biedermann in the laundry, to learn your new duties. Go now.”

Tess obediently turned in the direction of the refectory, her spectacles dangling from one hand as she scrubbed at her eyes with the other. Mrs. Lombardi motioned for me to enter her office, and I followed her into the large room and perched on the edge of the chair facing her desk.

Mrs. Lombardi dropped wearily into her own chair.

“Why, Nell? Why did you do this without consulting me?” Her voice held an edge of sternness, and I quailed a little at her disapproval.

“You believed that Jo and her baby died by accident,” I whispered. “You all did. The doctor and the police officer too.”

“I still believe it.” Mrs. Lombardi shifted some of her papers to one side and leaned forward. “The story you are telling me is preposterous. You have read too many novels.”

I was silent. If Mrs. Lombardi did not know by now that I didn’t like to read, I was not going to bother to explain it to her. As much as I liked her, I could see that to her I was still a foolish girl. To her mind, the existence of Sarah was proof enough that I was deficient in sense.

Mrs. Lombardi rested her chin on her hand, and her expression lightened. “Tess was adamant that you told her not to give Blackie any alcohol, Nell. Her version of events exonerates you from any blame. You may continue with your duties.” It had not occurred to me until then that I was also under the threat of punishment. I did not know what to say, so I merely ducked my head and muttered, “Thank you.”

“She hid the bottle behind the hay barn,” Mrs. Lombardi said. “She told me she had already given Blackie a bottle of beer in exchange for information.” Her voice hardened. “In your presence.”

I felt my cheeks burn, and tears pricked at the back of my eyes. I took a deep breath, not knowing whether I should defend myself‌—‌would that get Tess into even more trouble?‌—‌but Mrs. Lombardi forestalled me.

“Tess told me, Nell, that you didn’t know about the beer either.” A hint of a smile crept into her voice. “Truly, our Tess is a most ingenious young lady. I fear I have underestimated her capacities.”

At least she had seen that, I thought.

“What did Blackie tell you?” Mrs. Lombardi asked.

“That Jo’s lover was a gentleman and that he knew that gentleman’s name.”

Mrs. Lombardi’s fine, straight brows drew together in a frown.

“A gentleman?”

“A visitor to the Farm, I think.” I was reluctant to point the finger at our governors without proof.

“And Blackie knew the name and did not inform anyone?”

I was silent, but Mrs. Lombardi supplied the answer to her own question. “Because he hoped to sell the information in return for drink. I do not like to speak ill of the dead, Nell, but I am deeply dismayed at Blackie.”

Again I said nothing; at bottom I agreed with her. Because of Blackie’s “demon,” we would never know the truth about Jo’s baby.

“Tess told me,” Mrs. Lombardi said, “that she’d gone to check on the bottle two days later, and it had gone. She thought either Blackie or another of the inmates had found it and that her plan had failed. This means that the bottle was missing for two weeks before Blackie died.” She massaged her temples, her eyes squeezed shut. “The only conclusion that any of us can reasonably draw is that Blackie did indeed find it. And that Joos was mistaken‌—‌or lying‌—‌about the amount or potency of its contents. Or perhaps, even, Blackie simply died naturally, and the bottle was a mere coincidence. A mess, Nell, a tragic mess. And no way in which we can prove anything at all.”

“Does the bottle tell us nothing?” Maybe if I could look at it again, I thought, I could find a clue. But Mrs. Lombardi’s answer quenched that hope.

“I have given it to the physician. He also took Blackie‌—‌Blackie’s body.” She looked for a moment as if she would cry but drew a deep breath. “Although I do not think that, even if there were poison in the bottle, they will spend a great deal of time looking for the killer. The sheriff is ensuring that Joos’s still is broken up, and I do not think he will be allowed to remain in Prairie Haven. But Blackie was a destitute drunk, and I suspect that any investigation will be cursory at best.” She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and rose from her chair. “I wish you had confided in me, Nell.”

My head hanging, I nodded dumbly. If Mrs. Lombardi knew of the other plans I was hiding from her, she would be dismayed indeed.