The Solace of Stars, page 4
Karoline swayed before dropping to her knees and toppling sideways. Deputy Barlow ran toward her with Hanneke close behind.
Lying motionless, Karoline’s right cheek looked porcelain in the scant light. Hair straggled from her bun, spilling over the path.
“Quickly,” Hanneke urged. “Let’s get her into the house.”
Barlow scooped Karoline into his arms. Hanneke ran ahead and opened the parlor door. He eased the unconscious woman onto an upholstered settee. The room smelled of furniture polish.
Hanneke lit an oil lamp, turned to her friend—and inhaled sharply. There was nothing porcelain about the left side of Karoline’s face. A gash on her temple was still oozing. More shocking was the livid bruise blooming on her cheek. Her eye was swollen. Her lip was crusted with blood, as if she’d bitten it while taking the blow.
Deputy Barlow cursed under his breath.
Hanneke was no less angry, but now was not the time. “I don’t see a knife wound, but we need to be sure. Help me roll her a bit. Gently, now.”
Karoline had changed from her going-to-town attire into a faded tan day dress. Barlow eased her onto her side. Hanneke checked the back of her dress quickly—no bloodstains. “Nothing,” she reported. She grabbed a handkerchief and dabbed at the gash on Karoline’s head. “Deputy, would you please fetch some water so I can properly attend this wound?” An aspen bark poultice would be helpful too, but first things first. “Head wounds bleed a lot, but this doesn’t look too serious.”
He provided a basin and pitcher. “Shouldn’t she have roused from her faint by now?”
Hanneke applied pressure to stop the last spots of welling blood. “I imagine that it took all her strength to get home from—from wherever. She didn’t collapse until she saw you and realized she was safe.”
“I’ll send Hans to town for Dr. Rausch. I need to stay here and question Karoline.” He jerked his head toward the door. “When your ministrations are complete, I’d like to speak with you in the kitchen.”
She joined him there a few minutes later. Once seated, the deputy put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “All Jacobine told me was that her father was dead. I couldn’t get another word out of her. Did she talk to you?”
“A little.” Hanneke thought back to their brief exchange in the farmyard. “At the end of the evening, Karoline went to her shop, and Jacobine went to bed. Sometime later, she heard August arguing with someone in the yard. Jacobine assumed he was speaking to her mother, so she went outside in hopes of calming things down. By the time she dressed and got outside, August was dead and Karoline had vanished.”
Muscles tensed in Barlow’s jaw. “Jacobine will need to think harder about what she overheard.”
Hanneke understood his urgency, but she felt compelled to add a note of caution. “She only recently turned fifteen. This shock has surely affected her in ways we can’t understand. Before asking her to revisit the nightmare, might she have some time to rest and recover?”
“Frau Bauer.” He lifted one hand in a helpless gesture. “Time is a luxury I do not have.” His dark eyes were understandably grim and weary…but they also held a new bleakness that Hanneke found disturbing.
Chapter Four
Time is a luxury I do not have. Hanneke realized that while she’d been focused only on the moment, Deputy John Barlow was already considering, assessing, planning. Unlike Fridolin’s death, which Barlow had originally considered an accident, he knew he had a murder to investigate. Hanneke feared that his knowledge of the Ketzler family’s problems had added that hint of despair to his eyes.
The rattle of an approaching wagon startled her. “That must be Hans,” Deputy Barlow said, and hurried outside.
Hanneke went back to the parlor. She loosened Karoline’s apron strings and top buttons, and lifted her legs onto a pillow. Hartshorn might help, but before Hanneke could look for the smelling salts, Karoline murmured something unintelligible.
Hanneke sat beside the settee and spoke gently. “You’re safe now.”
“Jacobine.” Karoline stirred, and her eyes flickered open. “Jacobine?”
“Your daughter is safe as well.”
Karoline’s fingers twitched, as if trying to grab something. “Please don’t let Jacobine….” Her eyes closed.
Hanneke leaned closer. “Don’t let Jacobine do what?” she tried, but Karoline had drifted back to sleep. Stymied, Hanneke left her to rest.
Hans helped carry August’s body into the room used for day work and dining, which had the biggest table. Then he rode off to fetch Dr. Rausch, and to let Jacobine and the Goetsches know that Karoline was safe.
Hanneke knew she couldn’t attend August until the doctor had come and gone. “I’ll make coffee,” she offered. Now that the worst of her own shock had passed, fatigue was pulling at her muscles. Her eyes felt scratchy.
Deputy Barlow nodded. “I’m going to take a closer look around.”
Hanneke kindled a fire in the stove and filled the tin pot with water. While waiting for it to boil, she tried to imagine what it was that Karoline didn’t want Jacobine to do. She had no good theories by the time Barlow returned, but at least the coffee was steaming. He accepted a cup and drank with apparent need. Hanneke cradled her mug and inhaled deeply, letting the sharp aroma cleanse her nostrils. “Karoline roused briefly.”
He jerked erect, sloshing his coffee. “What did she say?” he demanded, slapping at the droplets on his trousers.
“She’s anxious about Jacobine. I tried to soothe her, but I’m not sure she even heard me.”
Barlow set his cup aside and stood. “Perhaps she’s roused again.”
Hanneke led the way. Her friend was still sleeping. “Karoline.” No response. Hanneke gave her arm a mild shake.
This time Karoline blinked. “What….” Alarm burgeoned in her face as she squinted at Hanneke and the deputy. She struggled to rise, but subsided with a wince.
Hanneke reached for a pillow and propped Karoline into a more comfortable position. Barlow gave Hanneke a stern gaze: I’ll do the talking. She nodded.
“What’s happened?” Karoline’s tone was husky. “Where’s my family?”
The deputy hitched the chair closer to the settee. “Frau Ketzler, Jacobine is safe with friends. However, I have some very bad news about your husband. August is dead.”
“August is…dead?” Karoline echoed incredulously. She touched the swelling around her eye, then let her hand drop. The lamplight wavered, and Hanneke adjusted the wick, fiddling with it to give her friend a chance to absorb that news. Finally, Karoline asked, “How?”
“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Barlow told her. “When was the last time you saw August?”
“It was…the evening of the market.”
“Last night,” Hanneke murmured.
Barlow’s mouth twisted, but he kept his gaze on Karoline. “Tell me what happened.”
Karoline dampened her lips with her tongue. “After Jacobine went to bed, I tallied the day’s accounts in the tin shop. I don’t know what time August got home, but he came into the shop and….” Karoline’s eye—the one that wasn’t swollen shut—glazed with tears. “Are you sure he’s dead?”
Hanneke took her hand and squeezed gently. “It’s true.”
This time Barlow shot Hanneke a frown before pressing on. “What happened when August came into the shop?”
“We argued.”
“What about?”
“It doesn’t have to be about anything with August,” she said dully. “He was drunk, and…and he hit me.”
Hanneke watched conflicting emotions—grief, anger, shame—flicker over Karoline’s battered face. Just that morning, she’d declared with obvious sincerity that August had never struck her.
A muscle twitched in John Barlow’s jaw, but his tone remained level. “What did you do when August hit you?”
“Well, I shoved past him. Out of the shop. I didn’t want him to follow me into the house where Jacobine was, so I ran to get help.”
“Where were you going?”
“The Goetsch place.” Karoline looked confused, as if her memory was foggy. “I think I fell down. The next thing I remember is waking up on the path. I didn’t see August, and I was frantic about Jacobine, so I came back home. My head hurt, though, and I got so dizzy….” She looked imploringly at Hanneke. “You’re sure my girl is safe?”
“I promise. She’s with Elizabeth.”
Karoline looked back at the deputy. “I want to see August. Is he here?”
Barlow forestalled her question with a raised hand. “Just one more thing, for now.” He left the room and returned with a lumpy brown carpetbag in one hand. “Frau Ketzler, I found this in your tinshop.”
Hanneke frowned. What under heaven…? She didn’t like the professional formality in his voice, either.
“Were you planning a trip?” Barlow demanded. “Is that what you and August argued about?”
Karoline stared at her fingers.
Before Barlow could press for a response, the front door opened. “John?” Hans Goetsch called. “I’ve brought the doctor.”
“Wait here.” Barlow rose and went to greet the other men.
Hanneke waited until their voices faded before leaning close to her friend. “Karoline. What is that carpetbag about? Were you going to leave August?”
“Oh, Hanneke.” Karoline’s sigh was heavy. “No. I was not going to leave August.”
“Then what—”
“After supper, Jacobine fetched her knitting, and we sat together until she went up to bed. I couldn’t concentrate on my mending, though. All I could think about was August’s behavior at the market.”
You don’t know the half of it, Hanneke thought. This, however, was hardly the time to discuss August’s tavern brawl.
“His temper has been getting worse. So, I made a decision.”
Hanneke’s neck muscles tightened.
“Thinking about Jacobine in the middle of the drinking, and the anger, was unbearable. I was hoping you’d let her stay at your place for a while.”
The muscles eased again. “She’d have been welcome, of course.”
Karoline tried to nod, grimaced, went still. “I wanted to send Jacobine along at dawn, before August was awake. I got out that old carpetbag, tiptoed into her room, and gathered a few of her things. Then I took the bag out to the shop. I thought it would be safe there. He rarely steps inside.”
“But he did come into the shop last night.”
“Ja.” Karoline’s mouth tightened. “I was counting money. Before I even realized he was there, he saw the packed carpetbag and jumped to the conclusion that I was leaving him. I told him that I would never abandon him. I don’t think he even heard. That’s when he struck me.”
Hanneke pressed her temples, struggling to suppress her dismay. “Why didn’t you explain this to Deputy Barlow?”
Karoline looked bewildered by the question. “Because my private life is not his business!”
But it is, now, Hanneke thought. Deputy Barlow would not be pleased to learn that Karoline had been less than forthcoming.
“Please tell me—” Karoline’s voice caught. “What happened to August?”
Hanneke suspected that Barlow would not approve of this line of conversation…but Karoline surely had the right to know, didn’t she? “He was stabbed.”
“Oh, August.” Karoline turned her head away as tears welled and spilled over. “He was a good man, Hanneke. He was.”
“I am so very sorry.” Hanneke wished there was something more meaningful to say. More meaningful to do.
“Where did it happen?”
“Here. In the yard. Jacobine found him.”
Karoline moaned.
Hanneke took her friend’s hand. “You can be proud of her, Karoline. She ran to my house for help. She did well.” Receiving no response, Hanneke tried another approach. “You said something earlier about not letting Jacobine do something, but I didn’t understand what. How can I help?”
Karoline’s good eye widened, then shut. “I must have been having a dream.”
Hanneke sat back, startled and stung by her friend’s obvious evasion. Karoline was a straightforward person by nature, and once they’d become friends, had sometimes spoken frankly of family problems. She had even planned to entrust her daughter to Hanneke’s care. Whatever had caused Karoline’s reticence, Hanneke thought, must be serious indeed.
Before she could respond, footsteps sounded from the hall. Evidently, Dr. Rausch’s post-mortem assessment was complete. He’d want to examine Karoline as well.
Hanneke stood, but she would not forget the exchange. She wanted to understand the concern behind Karoline’s first semi-lucid words. And once she did understand, she would see what could be done to ameliorate the problem.
Helplessness was intolerable. The resolve gave her something to focus on. Besides, right now, Jacobine and Karoline needed all the support they could get.
* * *
Barlow had left the lumpy carpetbag that had roused his suspicions near the front door. Hanneke crouched, poked through the contents, and was quickly satisfied. The two dresses inside definitely belonged to Jacobine. Honestly, Hanneke silently admonished the deputy. You could have simply asked me about the carpetbag and avoided the accusatory confrontation with Karoline.
Hanneke poured herself another cup of coffee and retreated to the front porch step, where she could lean against a post and watch dawn ease over the fields. She was about to doze off when she saw Clara Steckelberg striding toward the house.
Hanneke was as grateful to see Clara as she’d been to see Deputy Barlow the night before.
“Hans stopped by our place,” Clara said by way of greeting. “It’s a terrible thing.”
The Steckelbergs were Hanneke’s closest neighbors. Clara was a stocky, gray-haired woman, slightly stooped from a lifetime of farm labor. She was one of the few Pomeranian immigrants who hadn’t quickly adopted an American style of dress, preferring her still-serviceable tracht from the old country: black wool skirt with two tan stripes near the hem, linen blouse, a long shawl crossed over her chest and tied behind her back.
Clara had a habit of forgoing niceties and speaking her mind. She was also calm, capable, and a good friend. “Danke for coming,” Hanneke said fervently.
Clara flapped a dismissive hand. “I brought gooseberry kuchen.”
In the kitchen, Clara was just shrugging from her shawl when Deputy Barlow and Dr. Rausch joined them. “How is Karoline?” Hanneke asked.
“Your instincts were good, Frau Bauer—ah. Danke, Frau Steckelberg.” Dr. Rausch accepted a piece of the coffee cake before continuing his report. “It will take time for the swelling to go down around Frau Ketzler’s eye. If she’s willing to rest for several days, however, I believe she’ll be fine.”
“We’ll see to it,” Clara assured him.
Barlow gestured toward the door. “I’ll walk you out, doctor.”
After the two men left, Clara studied Hanneke. “I’ll stay with Karoline this morning. I already sent Charles to let a couple of the other women know what’s happened, and they’ll help me lay August out properly. You go home and get some sleep.”
The suggestion of sleep made Hanneke waver on her feet with longing. Just for a moment, though. “I need to visit Jacobine at the Goetsch place. I promised Karoline that I’d—” She broke off as she glanced through the window. Dr. Rausch was already gone, and Deputy Barlow was preparing to mount his horse. “I’ll be back.”
Hanneke hurried outside. “Deputy Barlow! Wait!”
He looked startled. “What is it?”
“What did Dr. Rausch say?”
Now he looked bewildered. “You heard what he said.”
She suppressed a sigh. “About August. After examining the wound, did the doctor have any insights?”
“No. The cause of death was obvious.” Barlow regarded her with impatience. “Frau Bauer, obviously, I need to make something clear. It is incumbent upon you to care for your friend’s health. It is incumbent on me, and only me, to find August’s killer. I will need to question Karoline again, and your assistance will not be required.”
“Surely you don’t think Karoline could possibly—”
“I don’t know what to think yet. And the longer I linger here, the longer it will take to make progress!” He swung into the saddle. “Another thing. Don’t discuss the situation with Jacobine until I can speak with her.” He clucked to his horse.
Truly, the man could be vexing. “Deputy Barlow!”
“What?”
“I have something to tell you!” She waited until confident of his attention. “The clothes in the carpetbag you found belong to Jacobine. She’s spent a lot of time with me this past summer, so I’m certain. Karoline told me she was going to send her to my place for a while.”
Barlow pulled off his hat and wiped a hand over his face. “Why didn’t she tell me that?”
“She wasn’t comfortable sharing something so personal.”
He growled under his breath.
“And there’s something else.” Hanneke visored her hand against the rising sun. “You know about the brawl at Angela’s tavern, but you don’t know about an incident earlier in the day. August came close to punching a man named Caspar Wulff for insulting him and Karoline.”
Barlow’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know the man.”
“Wulff lives in Lebanon. He’s a tinsmith and apparently unhappy that Karoline set up shop.”
“Did he threaten August?”
Hanneke thought back. “Actually, August threatened him.”
The deputy sighed. “Anything else?”
“Not at this time.”
Without another word, he nudged his horse to a canter and disappeared down the drive.
Chapter Five
The Goetsch farm was—like Hanneke’s farm and the Ketzler place—not as tidy as some. A broken rail on the sheep pasture fence had been repaired, not replaced. In the garden, weeds poked through the straw Elizabeth had spread between rows of kohlrabi and turnips, and kale. Several cracks in the house’s nogging—the fill between beams—needed patching.
