An Acquaintance with Darkness - Ann Rinaldi [44]
"Most doctors deal in live bodies."
"Uncle Valentine teaches anatomy." I tried to sound bored. I turned to go.
She put a hand on my arm to restrain me. "I feel I should tell you. He is under investigation."
I felt weak in the legs. I wanted to run. I did not want to hear her words, delivered in her clear, mocking girlish voice. For I knew they would render me senseless. I knew something bad was coming. "By whom?" I asked lightly.
"The Intelligencer."
The newspaper her father wrote for. "Well, go on, Myra. I can tell you're just dying to tell me something. Say it plain and get it over with."
"All right, I will. My father is doing the investigating. Your uncle is under suspicion of being a body snatcher."
"No wonder Mrs. Lincoln always refers to the newspapers as the vampire press," I said. But I wasn't as flippant as I sounded. "Well, for your information, Myra, the night of my mother's funeral, when I went back to the cemetery with a friend, my uncle was there, watching for grave robbers. And he chased some. And posted a guard around Mama's grave. So if he is one, how do you explain that?"
Her smile was slow and knowing. "It's an excellent cover. Especially since he knew you were coming to live with him."
I hated it when she spoke like a news reporter. "He didn't know I was coming to live with him," I said. "That was decided a few days later. Saturday, likely. Only Sunday did he show me the paper that said he was assuming legal responsibility for me."
She smiled. "Do lawyers work on Saturday now?"
"What?"
"What is the date on that paper?"
"I don't know. What does it matter?"
"Why don't you look? I'll bet he knew you were coming to live with him. I'll bet that business at the cemetery was all a little farce. So you would never dream he was involved in body snatching."
"My uncle is a respected doctor, Myra," I said. "He doesn't rob graves. The very idea!"
She shrugged. "We'll find out, won't we?"
"'We'?"
"When my father finishes his investigation. It's against the law, you know. Such culprits have been convicted and sent to jail!"
She tossed her head and started out. "I just thought I'd warn you, Emily Pigbush. I'm doing you a favor."
I couldn't think. I felt my face go white. What right did she have to accuse Uncle Valentine of such? How dare she? Oh, I'd known there was good reason why I hated her. "You varlet!" I yelled. But by the time I got the words out of my mouth, she was gone. I dashed out into the hall after her and stood there, my lips trembling, tears coming down my face.
All the way home Myra's words swirled around and around in my head.
Uncle Valentine a body snatcher! The business at the cemetery a farce! An excellent cover-up! Especially since he knew you were coming to live with him.... Do lawyers work on Saturday now?...What is the date on that paper?
I ran the rest of the way home. What is the date on that paper? I would look. I knew where Uncle Valentine kept it. In his office, under the paperweight statue of Hippocrates. I'd seen him put it there. I'd prove Myra wrong. The she-wolf! She made me ashamed of my own sex.
13. Saving the Moments
DADDY HAD TOLD ME a story once about a beautiful princess who had three men courting her. She couldn't make up her mind which to wed. But she'd always been told she had wonderful eyes. So she decided to ask each man what color her eyes were "Brown," said the first. "Blue," said the second. For, though they had known her since childhood, they had never paid mind to the color of her eyes. "Green," said the third, who always noticed eyes and teeth and every other thing of importance in the workings of the kingdom. So the princess married the third.
Was that the Brothers Grimm again? I didn't know. I thought sometimes my daddy made stories up as he went along. I knew now what he'd been trying to tell me with this story. Always notice things that are important in the workings of the kingdom. I hadn't noticed the date on that paper of Uncle Valentine's. And because I hadn't, Myra had been able to get the upper