Read The Ghosts of Aquinnah Online
Authors: Julie Flanders
Stella resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the “judge,” who until last week had been no more than a grocer in Vineyard Haven. As this was the first murder case to be considered in Tisbury, his appointment to the bench had been out of necessity. In years past, all island judicial matters had been settled in Edgartown, but the “up islanders” had decided they needed a judicial seat of their own. Stella felt sure that this was merely to make sure that the grand jury was filled with as many of Josiah’s friends as possible.
The judge called the proceedings to order and demanded silence from the crowd. Stella scowled as the prosecuting attorney explained his case against Christopher, citing the testimony of John Coffin and Zebediah Johnson, the note written in Josiah’s hand that named Christopher as the killer, and the statements of Mrs. Poole and others in Menemsha who had seen Stella and Christopher together. The crowd roared when Christopher’s attorney introduced Christopher’s alibi, and Stella’s sworn testimony that he had been with her when Josiah had died and therefore could not be the killer. Stella felt her cheeks burning at the sounds of laughter and guffaws echoing around the hall. Her status as a “hussy” and the islanders’ determination that she was now a loose woman made her testimony useless to Christopher.
The spectacle was over before it began, and the jury came down with an indictment of murder in the first degree. Christopher was to remain in the custody of the Tisbury sheriff until such time as he could be transferred to New Bedford where he would stand trial. Stella forced herself to block the crowd’s cheers from her mind and to focus only on Christopher. He looked lost and stunned as the deputy shackled his hands behind his back and led him out of the hall. Stella tried to catch his attention and let him know she would fight for him, but his eyes remained downcast until he disappeared from the room.
Stella remained in her seat until the last spectator had left and she was once again alone in the courtroom. She held her purse in her lap and stared at the now abandoned tables in front of her. She was still unable to see clearly out of her right eye, thanks to Josiah’s punch, and her abdomen still throbbed from his kick. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but she still found herself incredulous that in the aftermath of Josiah’s death not one of her fellow Vineyarders had shown an inkling of concern for her own injuries. She had even heard talk that she had deserved whatever beating she had received due to her affair with Christopher. No one was interested in her side of the story.
But it wasn’t herself that she was worried about now. No matter how much her neighbors now hated her, she wasn’t in any danger. Christopher was the one to be concerned about. In fact, concerned wasn’t nearly a strong enough word. Stella was terrified for him.
Worse, she blamed herself for what had happened and, even if Christopher didn’t hold her responsible, she would always know the truth. It had been her idea to return to her home. If she had listened to Christopher, the two of them would be on the mainland now, and Christopher would have found a job on the docks. She could have found a job cleaning and they would already be saving money to go to Savannah.
If she hadn’t insisted on going home to get her money, none of this would have happened. No matter what happened to Christopher from this point forward, and she couldn’t imagine it would be anything good, she would never forgive herself for that simple fact.
Stella finally stood up from her seat, her legs cramped after hours of sitting in one position. She had a long walk home, and no longer felt safe walking alone in the dark. With the cat-calls and hoots that had been sent her way, she wouldn’t put anything past the men who had once been her friends.
She cared little for her own welfare, but she still couldn’t risk anything happening to her that would hamper her ability to help Christopher. He had no one but her on his side, and she had no intention of abandoning him. Tomorrow, she would take Grover and visit him in the jail cell that had been built in the bottom of the town hall. She’d bring him some baked goods just as she had in Menemsha. She’d make sure he knew he wasn’t alone.
And, above all else, she’d figure out a plan to get him free.
****
Stella was exhausted by the time she returned to the home she had lived in her entire life and now despised. The house reeked of Josiah, and she couldn’t even look at her kitchen without feeling the blows he had so brutally rained on her face.
As she had done nearly every night since Josiah’s death, she retreated to his office and, ignoring the blood stains that remained on the floor, sat at his desk. She turned everything she had seen and been told about what happened over in her mind while desperately trying to figure out who had really killed her husband and framed Christopher.
Josiah’s safe and medicine chest had been untouched, and the police had ruled out robbery as a motive. And there had been no signs of forced entry into the Winslow home. The sheriff had made it clear that he had no reason to doubt that the note was authentic and that Christopher was in fact the killer.
Stella knew that there was only one person besides herself and Christopher who knew that wasn’t true, and that was the person who had actually killed Josiah. And exactly what would make that person come forward and implicate themselves in such a crime?
Shaking her head, Stella knew the only hope of discovering the truth lay with her. But she had no idea how or where to start. As much as she now despised Josiah, she couldn’t deny that the man had been a good doctor who was well-liked among his neighbors and his patients. What reason would anyone have to kill him?
Stella got up from the desk and sank to the floor. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes, and fell like rain drops onto the wooden floorboards around her. She let out a deep breath and tried to find the energy to get up and retire to bed. There was nothing else she could do today.
She glanced at the stack of newspapers Josiah had always kept next to his desk. She was grateful that the stack of papers was old now, as there was no way she would want to read the current editions. She could only imagine the vitriol and hatred published about Christopher. She reached for one of the papers, desperate to return to a time before this nightmare started, if only in her mind, and inadvertently knocked several to the floor.
Stella felt her eyes once again well with tears as she saw the Boston Globe Christopher had brought her from Cottage City among the scattered papers. She picked it up in her hands and held it to her chest, remembering the night in the barn when Christopher had given it to her. She had read each word of the paper in the following days, starting with the story of the doctor who had committed suicide in Boston.
Stella stood up and, still cradling the paper, started to leave the room. As she got to the doorway, she stopped short, and the paper fell to the floor. Feeling lightheaded, Stella grabbed one of the chairs Josiah had kept for patients and sunk slowly into it.
She stared down at the paper and the story of the Boston doctor staring back at her. Could it be possible?
Stella heard Josiah’s harsh voice in her head as he’d tossed her outside on her porch and kicked her as if she was no better than a stray dog.
“
I'm not finished yet, Stella. You'll see.”
It could definitely be possible and, more than that, Stella knew it was true. Stella knew now what had happened to Josiah. She knew who had killed her husband, and why. The answer was staring her in the face. It had been right here in her home all along.
****
Stella saddled Grover and climbed onto his back to make the journey to the Tisbury Town Hall and the jail cell in its basement. She could have made the trip on foot, but she always made sure to ride Grover when she visited Christopher. That way it wouldn’t be suspicious if anyone should happen to see her when she arrived for her final visit on horseback.
She had packed baked goods in the saddle bags that hung on Grover’s side, enough for both Christopher and whomever was guarding the cell during her visit. She also made sure to pack plenty of carrots for Grover. It calmed her nerves to be able to nuzzle the horse and feed him his favorite treat.
After arriving at the hall, Stella hitched Grover up to the post outside the building and gave him a carrot to tide him over until she returned. She walked inside and made her way to the basement, where she saw Zebediah Johnson sitting beside the door to the jail room. She knew she would find either Johnson or Jon Coffin standing guard over Christopher. They had made it their mission to be involved in the case since they had discovered Josiah’s body and played a role in capturing Christopher. It made no difference to Stella which one was on duty when she visited. She loathed them both equally.
“
Good day to you, Mrs. Winslow,” Zebediah said, the customary sneer in his voice.
“
And to you, Mr. Johnson.”
“
What did you bring for us today?”
Stella removed a small loaf of sweet bread from her bag. “For you,” she said.
“
That all? I don’t doubt you’ve got more in that bag for your boyfriend.”
“
I’ve brought bread and cheese for Mr. Casey, if that’s who you’re referring to.”
Zebediah chuckled. “Oh, come on now Stella. What’s the point of playing games now? Everyone on the island knows what you’ve been up to with this mucker.”
Stella bristled at his use of her Christian name without her consent. The lack of respect her life-long neighbors now showed her became more glaring each day. She reminded herself that she didn’t really care. Her hatred of them far outshone any contempt they had for her.
“
I’d like to visit with the prisoner now if there’s no objection, Mr. Johnson,” she said, keeping her voice steady.
“
No objection on my end.” Johnson got up from his chair and yelled across the room at Christopher. “What about you, Mick? You object?”
Stella ignored him and walked to the cell and Christopher. She kept her gaze on him and forced her face into a smile.
“
How are you today?” she asked.
“
Much better now that you’re here.”
Stella pulled a nearby chair up to the cell and removed the food and a canteen of well water from her bag. “I’ve brought you lunch,” she said.
Christopher sat down on the floor of his cell and reached through the bars for the food and drink. “Thank you,” he said.
Stella chatted aimlessly about her trip into town and Grover’s carrot obsession until she was sure Zebediah had eaten his sweet bread and was no longer listening to her. She could see out of the corner of her eye that he was now leaning back against the wall with feet propped up on the stairs leading to the main floor. He had pulled his hat over his eyes and looked to be asleep. Still, Stella didn’t chance it, and kept her voice to a whisper.
“
I’ve got everything arranged,” she said. “Grover and I will be here for you tomorrow night.”
Christopher’s eyes widened. “Really? I never dreamed it would be so soon.”
“
I don’t know when they’re planning to transfer you to New Bedford. It could be any day now. We don’t have time to waste.”
“
So what is your plan, Mrs. Winslow?”
Stella let out a deep breath and smiled at him. She didn’t want him to see any fear on her face. It would all work out, she was sure of it.
“
I’ve found the bromides in Josiah’s medicine chest. I’ll put enough in the cake I make to sedate whichever reprobate is here guarding you.” She gestured with her eyes towards Zebediah. “I actually put a little in his cake today just to test it and look how he’s sleeping there.”
Christopher glanced at his guard. “He does seem to be out, doesn’t he?”
“
He is,” Stella said. “And whichever one of them is here tomorrow will be too. I’ll bring the cake for him late in the afternoon and he’ll sleep for hours, I’ll make certain of that. I’ll come back for you as soon as it’s dark. I can take the key to the cell from your guard while he’s sleeping. Then we’ll ride Grover to Gay Head. Mr. Mayhew and the Indians will have a boat waiting for us.”
Christopher raised his eyebrows. “They’re willing to help me?”
“
You know how fond Mr. Mayhew is of you. And the Indians don’t put much stock in islanders’ ideas of justice.”
Stella glanced over at Zebediah and turned back to Christopher. She slipped her hand through the bars and felt a sense of peace pass through her as he took her petite hand in his own. She knew her plan was going to work.