The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [287]
But Mr. Picton only saluted his friend with his pipe. “None taken, John, I assure you. You’re absolutely right—the man’s turned what should have been a disaster into a triumph. My hat’s off to him.”
“Yes, well, before you fall all over each other lining up to pay homage to that legal snake,” Miss Howard shot back, “do you mind if I suggest some further efforts to salvage our cause?” She looked back down at her map. “We’re still missing the one big piece—somebody who knows something about Libby Hatch’s family.”
“Sara,” Marcus said, pointing toward the court house, “that jury is not going to be very receptive to a psychological examination of Libby Hatch’s childhood context, just at the moment.”
“No,” Miss Howard answered, “arid that’s not what I’m proposing. Don’t forget, she went to the Muhlenbergs as a wet nurse. She had to’ve had a child, and that child has got to be somewhere, either above or below the ground.”
“But you looked for days, Sara,” Lucius said. “You covered practically every inch of Washington County—”
“And that may be just where I went wrong,” Miss Howard replied. “Think about it, Lucius—if you were Libby, and you’d landed yourself the kind of job she had at the Muhlenbergs’, would you give them any way to check on the actual facts of your past?”
Before Lucius could answer, the Doctor asked, “What are you saying, Sara?”
“That she’s too smart for that,” Miss Howard answered. “If she left some secret behind in her hometown, or even if she only left her family behind, that family would probably have known things that Libby wouldn’t have wanted to get out, especially not to people who might hire her as a wet nurse. You’ve said it yourself, Doctor, the woman’s characteristic behaviors must extend back into her childhood. So Libby had to make sure that no one ever knew where she actually came from. On the other hand, she had to say she came from someplace that she could actually describe, someplace that she knew at least something about, to make her story hold water.”
“That’s true,” Cyrus said, considering it. “She would have covered herself, at least that far.”
“But she could’ve come from anywhere!” Mr. Moore protested.
“John, do try to listen for more than thirty seconds running,” Miss Howard spat back. “She couldn’t have come from anywhere. She was a woman who learned that the Muhlenbergs needed a wet nurse from an advertisement—that makes her local. She talked a lot about towns in Washington County—so she must have spent some time there. But if she was trying to conceal her roots, she didn’t actually come from Washington County—which means—”
Mr. Picton snapped his fingers. “Which means you may want to get back down to Troy, Sara. It’s the seat of Rensselaer County, which is to the south of Washington County—on the east bank of the river. And Stillwater sits directly across the water from the line that separates the two counties.”
Miss Howard slapped her map hard and set the kerosene lamp down. “Which is exactly what I realized five minutes ago,” she said, with a big, satisfied smile.
“It’s still a long shot,” Marcus said, shaking his head wearily. “And you’ll have to go tomorrow, which means missing—”
“Which means missing what?” Miss Howard cut in. “Darrow’s ‘experts’? Mrs. Cady Stanton? I know what they’re going to say, Marcus, and so do you. It’s obvious—maybe even gratuitous, at this point. But we do have to work fast. Cyrus, I could use you, if you’ll come—Stevie, too.”
“And El Niño to protect you!” the aborigine near shouted, getting caught up in Miss Howard’s enthusiasm.
“Naturally,” she answered, rubbing his bushy head. Then she looked to the Doctor and Mr. Picton. “Well?”
Mr. Picton paused and smoked, shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing to be lost, I suppose. I say go to it.”
“And you, Doctor?”
The Doctor looked at her with just the faintest trace of hope in his features; more,