See What I Have Done

‘Of course.’ The officer paused. ‘But do you think it’s likely?’

‘In my experience, Mr Borden was a solid man.’

‘Are you aware of any trouble around the house? Anything untoward?’

There were many things untoward.

John was quiet for a moment. Then, ‘I recall Lizzie did tell me about the daylight robbery last year . . .’

‘Yes, that’s been mentioned.’

‘Unfortunately, and given the circumstances today, one might think the family has been cruelly targeted for their money.’ John bit the pear. I thought of his sliver tongue licking sugar juice. I could taste a set-up. ‘Nothing like pears in the heat,’ John said.

‘I find them too sickly,’ the first officer said. ‘Lizzie mentioned there’s fishing equipment in here.’

‘Oh, yes,’ John said. I heard the pear drop on the ground, then a rattle of a tin box. ‘Here you are.’ The tin was opened, looked through.

‘Nothing suspicious here,’ the second officer said.

They were quiet for a time, then the first officer said, ‘Tell me, is that a crawl space above the loft?’

Blood pumped through my body, made me shake. If they found me, could I take them all?

I heard John clear his throat. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Is that a crawl space above the loft?’

‘Why?’ John said.

‘It seems like one.’

‘Oh, that. It’s nothing.’

‘I think I’ll take a look.’

‘Probably best you don’t,’ John said.

‘Why’s that?’

‘I’d say you’d have a hard time fitting through the hole. Not meant to fit anything in it really.’ John cleared his throat.

‘How do you know?’

‘I helped build this barn. Andrew and I were going to make another level but he decided it was unnecessary. I’m afraid in the end all we managed to build was an expensive brooding hut for pigeons.’ John laughed.

‘I think I’ll take a look-see anyway.’

‘Don’t believe me, Officer?’ John said.

‘No, sir, nothing like that. I just think I should be thorough.’

‘It might be dangerous for you.’ John on the edge of pleading would make things worse for me.

‘How so?’

John was quiet before saying, ‘Unsound structures. I doubt Andrew paid upkeep on this barn. I’d hate for you to hurt yourself.’

There was silence for a time, then the officer said, ‘Perhaps we’ll send for a builder to check over the structure before I climb up.’

‘Yes,’ John said. ‘But wouldn’t it take some time?’

‘We’ll send for someone, ask them to come as soon as they can.’

‘If you think that’s best,’ John said.

‘I just want to be thorough.’

‘Of course.’

‘You’ve been most helpful, Mr Morse.’

‘Good. I’m happy to assist with the investigation.’

The men left. I could feel the axe head against my skin, the lovely sharpness. I pulled myself up, unfurled ratchet limbs, crack, crack, and it occurred to me that John might have saved me. But I was owed money. I wasn’t done asking John questions. I was going back into that house. I wanted to see if the killer had left anything behind.

Night carved out the moon. Things became quiet. I crawled towards the barn window and stared out onto a glowing house. A few police officers lined the perimeter and looked bored. One chewed fingernails, spat out his relics onto the grass.

I kept watch on the house, people went in and out of rooms, kerosene lamps dimmed one by one. I waited until the police officers headed towards the front before turning my lamp on. I was out the barn then, night air, an owl hoot, the sound of horses’ hooves. Into the basement I went. No need for locked doors now. There was the smell of wet clothing, of urine and fungus. I took a breath, climbed the stairs like a mountaineer. I was back inside the kitchen. The clock on the mantel struck eleven. I walked through the house. In the parlour, a lamp ached, the oily thick smell filled the house from the top down. My head buckled from the fumes. I went to the dining room door, opened it, entered the room limb by limb. A smell of rotting. I lifted the lamp high and there on the dining table: two bodies, solid masses. There were small rounds of dried bloodstains on white sheets, outlines of cavernous skulls. When I was younger, Grandpappy died. Gangrene. Papa had said, ‘He shoulda let the doctor saw his leg off.’ I tried to understand how removing a limb could save a life. Papa forced me to stay with Grandpappy’s body. ‘It’ll get you used to this stuff.’

‘But what if he wakes up?’

‘Boy, you should know by now that dead is dead. You ain’t wakin’ from nothin’.’

I sat next to Grandpappy’s infected body and tasted gangrene on the tongue, foul, rotted fat.

I went to the bodies on the table. I wanted to see what the axe had done to Andrew’s body. I lifted the sheet, a set of nakedness, and looked Andrew over, thin-limbed, liver-spotted skin. His stomach had been cut open, loosely catgutted shut, the stitching across his abdomen neater than my leg. He gave off old man stench, unwashed, used up. His time would’ve come soon anyway. I went closer to him, dragged a finger over his chest. I expected him to breathe in, breathe out. There was blood on his neck, blood in his beard, blood where half his face used to be.

‘Andrew,’ I whispered, ‘you made someone very angry.’

He was a mess of a man. I imagined Papa on the table, him all crushed up. How angry I’d have to be to do that.

I left Andrew alone, went to Abby, placed my hands on her bare feet. Dead cold, callused, rough-skinned. I massaged her feet and in between toes there was a blister, liquid full. I squeezed the blister and it wept.

‘You like that, Abby?’ I said. Her toenails were unclipped and they cut into my fingertips as I massaged. ‘Weren’t much of a society woman, were you?’

But I liked the way her skin felt around the ankle: Mama-soft. The way Papa never was. ‘Tell me, who gave you a talking-to?’ I was ready to take that person on.

I left the bodies, made my way to the front stairs, through the sitting room with its damp-carpet stench, through to the entry way where I saw a black hat hanging on a rack, walked to the bottom of the stairs, smoothed my hand over the banister. I climbed. I climbed the stairs, headed to the room where I’d found Abby and opened the door, looked in. John asleep in the bed, his mouth wide open.

I went into the room, sat on the bed. ‘John,’ I said. ‘Wake up.’ John breathed deep, shifted in bed. I heard a noise come from another room. I’d come for John later.

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