Read Online Vices of My Blood by Maureen Jennings - Free Book Online
Authors: Maureen Jennings
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young girl with the babies? Is Miss Slade behaving herself?’” Amy stopped reading. “Why would she say that? What sort of impression did I give her?”
Mrs. Kitchen had met Amy once just before they were leaving for Muskoka. The schoolteacher had been wearing her pantaloons and jerkin and even though her manners were impeccable and she was very well spoken, Beatrice had been shocked.
“It was your, er, your Rational Dress. Mrs. K is quite conservative.”
Amy sighed. She had experienced such reactions many times. “She signs off by saying, ‘I say my rosary constantly. Remember us in your prayers, Will. Yours sincerely, Beatrice Kitchen.’”
They were both quiet for a few moments, Murdoch thinking about Arthur and the precariousness of his life. Then he picked up his plate and stood up. “I’ll make a pot of tea.”
He lifted one of the lids from the stovetop and dropped in a piece of coal to build up the fire. While they waited for the water to boil, he started to tell her something of what had happened that day. He had too much respect for her to treat her as if she were a potential hysteric, so he told her about the murder, glossing over the more horrendous injuries but sparing nothing else.
She straightened in her chair. “What a dreadful thing. I do pity his wife. Do you have a notion as to the culprit?”
“It looks very much like a thief. Howard wore a silver pocket watch, but it is gone. His boots were also taken. I don’t know if anything else is missing yet.”
“Who found him?”
“One of the parishioners. A woman by the name of Sarah Dignam. She was coming for a prayer meeting.”
“Poor woman.”
“Indeed. She is dreadfully upset.”
He hesitated, wondering whether he should share his thoughts about Miss Dignam, but they seemed rather unfair and he had tangled with Amy before about denoting strong emotions in women as hysteria.
“It’s funny, after I left her I was reminded of this chopper I knew at the camp. His nickname was ‘Monk’ not because of any pious habits, far from it, but because we all thought he resembled a monkey. He had abnormally long arms and short bandy legs and masses of hair all over him.”
Amy smiled. “Surely it wasn’t a physical resemblance to Miss Dignam that made you think of him?”
“Hardly. Brodie was something of an outcast, but he found this stray dog about the camp and he became a changed man. He loved that mongrel and became friends with any other chopper that paid attention to the little creature. There was a lot of snickering behind his back, as you can imagine with that bunch of hard hearts, but they wouldn’t have dared say anything to his face because Monk was far too tough.” Murdoch started to fold the tea towel. “Anyway, what came back to mind so vividly was the night he discovered his dog, Paddy was its name, was missing. He was beside himself. We weren’t supposed to leave the camp after dark because it was too dangerous, but I couldn’t stand to see him so I agreed to go with him in search of Paddy.” Murdoch hesitated, not sure how much he should tell Amy, but she was obviously listening intently and he could feel how much he wanted to unburden himself. He’d never told anybody the story before. “We didn’t have to go far because we soon picked up a trail of blood leading off one of the runs. Paddy had managed to drag himself to the shelter of the trees. He must have been attacked by a coyote because his ear was half off and he had several deep bites on his head and legs. The worst was the one at his throat.”
“Oh how dreadful.”
“It was. At first I thought he was dead, but Monk dropped to his knees beside him and Paddy moved his head and tried to lick his face. Brodie just recoiled in horror and he yelled at me. ‘I can’t bear it. We must do something.’ I tried to tell him that the dog would die soon enough, but Paddy whimpered and tried to crawl toward him. Brodie screamed and before I could stop him,
Mrs. Kitchen had met Amy once just before they were leaving for Muskoka. The schoolteacher had been wearing her pantaloons and jerkin and even though her manners were impeccable and she was very well spoken, Beatrice had been shocked.
“It was your, er, your Rational Dress. Mrs. K is quite conservative.”
Amy sighed. She had experienced such reactions many times. “She signs off by saying, ‘I say my rosary constantly. Remember us in your prayers, Will. Yours sincerely, Beatrice Kitchen.’”
They were both quiet for a few moments, Murdoch thinking about Arthur and the precariousness of his life. Then he picked up his plate and stood up. “I’ll make a pot of tea.”
He lifted one of the lids from the stovetop and dropped in a piece of coal to build up the fire. While they waited for the water to boil, he started to tell her something of what had happened that day. He had too much respect for her to treat her as if she were a potential hysteric, so he told her about the murder, glossing over the more horrendous injuries but sparing nothing else.
She straightened in her chair. “What a dreadful thing. I do pity his wife. Do you have a notion as to the culprit?”
“It looks very much like a thief. Howard wore a silver pocket watch, but it is gone. His boots were also taken. I don’t know if anything else is missing yet.”
“Who found him?”
“One of the parishioners. A woman by the name of Sarah Dignam. She was coming for a prayer meeting.”
“Poor woman.”
“Indeed. She is dreadfully upset.”
He hesitated, wondering whether he should share his thoughts about Miss Dignam, but they seemed rather unfair and he had tangled with Amy before about denoting strong emotions in women as hysteria.
“It’s funny, after I left her I was reminded of this chopper I knew at the camp. His nickname was ‘Monk’ not because of any pious habits, far from it, but because we all thought he resembled a monkey. He had abnormally long arms and short bandy legs and masses of hair all over him.”
Amy smiled. “Surely it wasn’t a physical resemblance to Miss Dignam that made you think of him?”
“Hardly. Brodie was something of an outcast, but he found this stray dog about the camp and he became a changed man. He loved that mongrel and became friends with any other chopper that paid attention to the little creature. There was a lot of snickering behind his back, as you can imagine with that bunch of hard hearts, but they wouldn’t have dared say anything to his face because Monk was far too tough.” Murdoch started to fold the tea towel. “Anyway, what came back to mind so vividly was the night he discovered his dog, Paddy was its name, was missing. He was beside himself. We weren’t supposed to leave the camp after dark because it was too dangerous, but I couldn’t stand to see him so I agreed to go with him in search of Paddy.” Murdoch hesitated, not sure how much he should tell Amy, but she was obviously listening intently and he could feel how much he wanted to unburden himself. He’d never told anybody the story before. “We didn’t have to go far because we soon picked up a trail of blood leading off one of the runs. Paddy had managed to drag himself to the shelter of the trees. He must have been attacked by a coyote because his ear was half off and he had several deep bites on his head and legs. The worst was the one at his throat.”
“Oh how dreadful.”
“It was. At first I thought he was dead, but Monk dropped to his knees beside him and Paddy moved his head and tried to lick his face. Brodie just recoiled in horror and he yelled at me. ‘I can’t bear it. We must do something.’ I tried to tell him that the dog would die soon enough, but Paddy whimpered and tried to crawl toward him. Brodie screamed and before I could stop him,
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