eulogy for Momma.” Mrs. Wright’s hands were clutching the fabric of her skirt. “She wants to live here, Mr. Mears. I’m their sister and I love the girls dearly, but it’s just not possible.” She lifted her hands. “The house is so small. We’re just starting out. It wouldn’t be fair to George.” Her chin trembled. She pulled a kerchief from the wrist of her shirtwaist and touched it to her eyes. She folded it in her hands on her lap.
“Is there anyone else?” I asked.
“Oh, Harriet’s named for her grandmother, and they’ve always been close. Grandmother has a beautiful place on King Street, not far from where she and Grandfather ran the grocery, but Grandfather’s gone now and she’s in her eighties. She’s done everything she could. She even purchased the house on Washington Street for Momma and Daddy, gave it to them. She’s done everything you could expect. If Harriet asked, she would take the girls in an instant, because she loves them so, but she’s not well, Mr. Mears. Even with servants, she couldn’t manage two young girls. I don’t know why Harriet won’t listen to reason.”
She paused.
“Daddy was not the best of fathers, Mr. Mears. His drinking made everything difficult. For everyone.”
“I understand, Mrs. Wright. In college I was a member of the Temperance Club. I’ve kept my pledge.”
“God bless you, Mr. Mears.” She looked up at the daguerreotypes on the mantel. “Our uncle Lewter is a wealthy man. He has a successful business in Norfolk,” she said. “You probably know it. They sell big machines to the shipyards. I don’t understand it, but George, my husband, could explain it for you. Uncle Lewter and Mary have a family themselves. A little boy, Floyd, and a girl, Maggie, who’s almost exactly Harriet’s age. It will be the best situation.”
I nodded. “Ma’am, do you believe that Virginia Christian is responsible for your mother’s death?”
“No,” she said. “I just don’t see how that could happen. Momma visited with us Sunday a week ago. She told me about a missing skirt, that she expected Virgie to pay her for it. Momma was always missing things. She had too much on her shoulders. Alone, with two young girls to raise. She wore herself out. I’m sure she just misplaced things. Whenever she thought something’d been stolen, it would show up somewhere. But she was cross all the time, and no wonder.”
“You said your mother never quarreled with Virgie?”
“Oh, my word, no. Whenever Momma confronted her about something, Virgie looked scared more than anything. I think Momma frightened her to death. She’d cringe at the sound of Momma’s voice. Virgie never said anything back to her, no matter how hateful Momma was. And she always was sweet with us girls. Virgie’s just a girl herself. I remember her talking about school, how she liked it. But she had to quit when her mother got sick. I don’t think she could really read or write a word.
“It was funny how she had to have things arranged just so when she was working. Ironing board right-to-left. Clothes basket to the left of the ironing board. White things on top. Colored things on the bottom. Two irons on the stove, one on the stand. Once I borrowed an iron from the stove to touch up a skirt hem and you’d have thought the house was afire, the commotion Virgie made when she missed it. But she was a worker. Lord knows she earned every penny Momma paid her.”
“Did you ever have occasion to speak with Mr. Cahill? The boarder?”
“Oh, I think a couple of Sundays, when I visited Momma,” Mrs. Wright said. “Sometimes he’d bring fresh fish or oysters from the docks, and Momma would cook everyone a nice Sunday dinner. He was very pleasant. Always a gentleman.”
“Was there ever any problem with his payments?”
“Oh, no. I’m sure Momma would’ve told me.”
“He’s quite a handsome man.”
“Harriet certainly thinks so,” she said. “And Momma, too, for that matter.” She smiled, and looked down at her hands. “At least, she did think so.”
“Mrs. Wright, you’ve been very generous with your time. I’d better go. I’m very sorry for your family’s loss. I will remember your mother in my prayers.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mears.”
I stood to leave. She offered her hand, and I shook it.
“Ma’am, does Harriet like to read verse?”
“Why, yes, ever since she was a little girl.”
“I’ll see if can find a volume for her. Maybe it will help her pass the time.”
“That’s very kind, Mr. Mears.”
Outside the air had warmed with the sun. The blossoms of the crocuses were open. I had started for the cottage gate when I heard the front door behind me.
“Mr. Mears!” Mrs. Wright called from the stoop. “You forgot your cap. Here, Sadie, take it.”
The girl scampered down the steps and ran to me. She held up the cap.
“Thank you,” I said. Her eyes were blue as robins’ eggs. She looked at me for a moment.
“Momma went to see the angels,” she said. She smiled. Then she ran back inside the house.
By the time I got back into Hampton it was getting close to deadline. I still had time to swing by the jail before going to the paper. In the square between the courthouse fence and the jail there was a crowd. Except for a pack of colored boys running footraces at the edge of the square, the people were white. Clouds had gathered and were spitting sleet. The pellets stung my face.
I could see Deputy Chas Curtis speaking from the steps of the jail. His face was red. I wasn’t close enough to make out what he was saying. When he paused, people in the crowd hooted and whistled.
“Just hang that nigger!” a man close to me shouted. I walked on till I was closer. Chas saw me and nodded. He turned back to the crowd and lifted his chin.
“The mayor has directed the court to move forward on this case as quickly as the laws of the Commonwealth allow,” he shouted. “You folks need to disperse.”
“We don’t need Commonwealth law!” a man yelled from beside the steps. “We need God’s law!”
A murmur rose through the crowd like a swell in rough weather. There was quiet, then an eruption of sound.
“Send the nigger girl out!”
“We’ll take care of her. Save the sheriff the trouble!”
The deputy raised his hands for quiet, but the shouting grew louder. The sleet fell harder, bouncing off the brick pavers. The crowd’s anger seemed to rise.
“Send her out!”
The jail door opened and Sheriff Curtis stepped through. He was wearing his Stetson with the brim pulled low and an oilcloth slicker that reached to his boots. One side of the slicker was tucked behind a holstered Owlshead pistol on his hip. Slung over a forearm was a double-barreled Remington with the bore broken open. The brass shell casings shone in the dull light. Officer Hope and Constable Hicks stepped out behind the sheriff. Each man was wearing a holstered Colt. The constable closed the door and stood in front of it with his hands hooked in his holster belt. The big man was about as wide as the door. The crowd fell silent.
The sheriff looked from face to face. “I see people out here I know voted for me,” he said. “And I appreciate it. You voted for me to uphold the laws of the Commonwealth of Virginia and Elizabeth City County in your behalf. I aim to do that.” He gestured with his free arm. “These men standing here, they aim to do that.”
He snapped shut the bore of the shotgun. “This ten-gauge is loaded with double-ought. At this distance I reckon it’d pert near cut a man in two. Now I’m asking you people to disperse. I know you want justice served and that’s what we aim to do. But I’m damned if I’m gone stand out here in this cold