The Lighthouse Road(58)

At the midpoint of their meeting the bull cook left, returning minutes later with the barn boss, who was perhaps most aggrieved by the horse now strung from the pulley behind the barn. His name was Jacque and he'd come from Quebec. He spoke scant English when he spoke at all.



Jacque was asked: Why was the horse in the paddock at such an odd hour? Why was the horse hobbled? Was it his job to oversee the care and protection of his stable? Oblivious to the insinuation, Jacque answered the questions. He wanted to know himself why the horse was hobbled in the middle of the paddock. Of course it was his job to oversee his stable. Did the constable wish to see his well-kept barn? The horses worked six days each week, they hauled one hundred thousand board feet of white pine down a road of ice every day, and there wasn't a cracked hoof among the dozen of them, not a single harness gall or skin sore to show for their labor.



When the constable pressed him, and when Jacque finally understood the tone of incrimination, he wasted no time indicting the watch salesman Smith, whose own horse was footsore and frostbit and readier for a pistol shot than another step through these woods. Where the hell was Smith? He'd shoot the bastard himself, shoot him right in the knees before finishing him with a bullet in the ear.



The bull cook ushered Jacque from the mess hall. Trond and the constable stood and stretched their backs and poured more hot water into their teacups. They scratched their beards and consulted the list of loggers in camp. The morning passed with a slow parade of men being led into the mess for interrogation. It was a dispirited investigation. The men were simply spent.



After dinner, after the mess hall had emptied, Rolf, the Norwegian, approached the kitchen. He told Thea that the constable and Trond wished to speak with her. He said they would return from their smokes in a moment, and that he would translate for her. He told her not to worry, that they only wanted to know if she'd seen anything suspicious the previous night. He must also have judged some look on her face because he proceeded to elaborate on what had happened: The wolves had come, one of the dogs put down, one of the horses, a crime indeed. They suspected the watch salesman Smith. Thea asked if she could have a moment, she motioned to her room back of the kitchen.



In her hovel she washed her hands and face, brushed her hair, checked her dress in the reflection of the candle sconce. She took her Bible and kissed the cover and opened it to Deuteronomy. That scripture would be her testimony.



These were three beggared men. Each wore a face as drawn and long as the winter had been. Their hands were cracked and folded in front of them. Their lips behind their mustaches and beards were white and bled dry. Rolf 's face was mapped with frostbitten scars. The constable licked his pencil tip and turned to Rolf.



"Ask her to tell me her name."



Rolf did, and the constable wrote it down in his notebook.



"Ask her why the Bible."



Rolf turned to Thea, he pointed to the Bible. "He wishes to know why you've brought your Bible."



Thea looked down at the open book. Her pulse was galloping. Trond had withdrawn a pocketknife from his vest and pulled open the blade, the mother-of-pearl handle glinted in the lantern light as he trimmed his fingernails. She whispered to Rolf, "I am a fearful child of the Lord."



Rolf sat back. He looked at her as though he'd never heard a word of Norwegian spoken before. "Says she's feared. Says she's a child."



The constable put the pencil tip to his notebook and began to write but stopped. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and wrung his hands. He turned to Trond, who was still tending his fingernails. "Christ, Trond, what can this girl tell us? She's a child. She don't know about dead horses nor misdeeds."



Trond turned to Rolf, "Ask the lass if she saw anything suspicious last night."



The constable was already closing his notebook. He'd already put his pencil in his sleeve pocket and was buttoning his vest when Rolf asked Trond's question.



When Thea began to weep the constable stopped readying to leave. He looked at Trond, then Rolf, then Thea in turn. "What's she cryin' for?" he asked.



Thea took the Bible from the tabletop and opened it and found her passage. She handed it to Rolf, who withdrew his glasses from his shirt pocket and held the good book to the lantern light.



He read the verses to himself. When he looked at Thea her face was in her hands.



"What's this nonsense?" the constable asked.



Trond addressed Thea. "What's the meaning of this?" He turned to the Norwegian. "Rolf, ask her what's the meaning of this."



Rolf read the verses again, this time out loud in Norwegian. "If a man find a betrothed damsel in the field, and the man force her, and lie with her: then the man only that lay with her shall die. . . . For he found her in the field, and the betrothed damsel cried, and there was none to save her."