have outdone himself in rudeness.
“Do, John?” Longfellow answered mildly. “Why, whatever you think best. At least until the selectmen meet to consider this. I presume it will be no earlier than tomorrow. With the look of the weather, it may take longer. Until we give you further instruction, it would seem you and I are of about equal rank here, with Mr. Rowe a close third. But to be sure you have the facts straight, let me say that Godwin was found early this morning, near where we worked on the ice, yesterday afternoon.”
Longfellow related the rest.
John Dudley took a long moment to digest the information. He was, it seemed, more than a little fearful of his new responsibility.
“You put him down there?” This was asked bluffly, with a jerk of a thumb toward an east window, and the graveyard.
“That's right.”
Dudley reached up in an attempt to scratch at his boil, and drew his hand away as though the area were on fire. With a malevolent eye, he looked to the one person in the room who remained a stranger. He now seemed to find the man familiar. “Who's this, then?” he asked.
“My name, sir, is Reed. I am an attorney, with an office in Boston.”
“Reed? The Reed who stole from my father years ago? That Reed went off to Boston, thinking himself far too good for the likes of us!”
“Yes, we were neighbors. And I did take some apples that were not mine, as I recall. I once had the ways of an impious and thoughtless boy, I admit. As so many do,” he added, considering. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Dudley— John—I seem to have heard that you, too…”
“That's enough! We want no lawyers here, dirtying our investigations!” Dudley spat into the fire, his features suddenly pinched by his anger.
“As you wish,” the lawyer replied with a tiny smile. “I will retire, then, to begin my own investigations.”
“This is not Suffolk County, with your m'lords’ pulling strings for you! No, you will have to deal with Middlesex County here, Reed. A good many in this village will have little to say to you!”
“Possibly.” The attorney left the room, and they soon heard the opening and closing of the front door.
“Nicely done, constable,” Longfellow said dryly.
John Dudley made a show of chuffing on his hands, which must have been warm already.
“What now?” asked the selectman.
“Well…”
Apparently, thought Longfellow, the investigation would need someone else to act as its engine.
“How about,” he suggested, “going to see Widow Bowers? It was she, I think, who provided a room for Godwin, and allowed him to share her table. She might tell us something of the young man's recent activities. We might also speak with young Martha Sloan, to lay another theory to rest. I'm sure she would have done little to encourage Alex, or any other lad, for I believe she's developed strong feelings for Lem Wainwright.”
“You don't suppose, as they're saying, that it was jealousy?” asked the constable.
“Nor do I believe for a moment that Lem is our culprit.”
“Where is the lad now?”
“Mrs. Willett sent him on an errand.”
“An errand!” The constable turned to Charlotte. “Before I could speak with him? You thought that wise, did you?”
“Who knew when you might be roused?” Longfellow countered, subduing his own anger. “Besides, we had to consider the welfare of others. That's why I agreed to sending him off to Boar Island, with instructions to return in a few hours’ time. When he does, you'll find him at my house. I'll see he's watched from then on, if you like, until this is cleared up.”
“Boar Island, you say?” The constable seemed to shrink back.
“However,” said Christian Rowe, wishing to gain some control over matters unfolding in his own house. “I must tell you, John, that I, too, think it unlikely Wainwright had anything to do with this business. You and I should pursue the real villain! I will call for a special meeting of the village, to learn what others know. Until then, we might spy out information together.”
“You and I, Reverend?” The suggestion caused the constable to pale.
“It will hardly be the first time I've directed an investigation into a question of murder, and found an answer to it.”
Rowe's show of audacity left Longfellow speechless. He decided this was just as well, for it gave him time to decide on a plan of his own.
“Dudley,” he said at last, “come and take a look at the corpse—but let me show you the weapon