Margaret sobbed.
Both were shaking, Toby asking,
‘Do you know who’s voice that was?’
Margaret nodded in the direction of the cells, adding,
‘You knew it was him, didn’t you, Toby? You knew that?’
‘I’ve always known.’
‘I can say it now, can’t I, now he’s in there?’
‘He’s finished, Margaret. There’s nothing left of him.’
He urged her on gently. She continued,
‘Well, one of them said, “The boy’s dead. We have to tell.” And then he, him in there, said, “If I go down we all go down.”’
Margaret paused.
‘Yes?’
‘And then a third voice called out, “I’m not going down for him. We have to cover it up. I’ve got a wife and child now, I’ve got a life here, I’m not handing him or any of us in.” Then...’
She stopped quickly.
‘Margaret?’
‘There was a shot, Toby.’
‘A shot?’
‘In the room.’
‘You’re sure? You’re sure it wasn’t outside, somewhere in the town?’
‘It was in the room, Toby. It was so loud, and I could hear the way it echoed.’
Chapter 69 – The Shot and the Silence
Toby was as stunned as Margaret must have been that day.
‘What did you do?’ he asked.
‘I wanted to run to the door, Toby. Or run out of the office. But I couldn’t. I was frozen. The Sheriff’s room went silent, and there were only odd calls and mumbled voices that I couldn’t make out. They were speaking too quickly or too angrily. I just sat there, terrified.
‘Then minutes later, Sheriff Thornton opened the door a crack and said, “Margaret, you’re still here?” I said, “Where else would I be, Sheriff, when you need me?”
‘I tried to smile but I was shaking. And he tried to smile too, but it wasn’t there, Toby. And he hasn’t smiled since, not properly. He said to me, “You need to go now, Margaret. Go and don’t come back until the morning.”
‘He said it calmly, and not meanly, not like how Sheriff Mercer could say things, Toby. You remember Sheriff Mercer? Your father certainly would. They had some dust-ups.’ She tried again to half-smile. ‘Though he could be rotten even with his favourites.’
‘So what did you do that night?’
‘I left, and I went straight home and I didn’t go back.’
At this the woman collapsed into sobbing, and it was all Toby could do to try and hold her and keep her upright. She was dissolving, as if the tears were softening the very fabric she was made of.
‘Someone wrote a letter to him, Toby, to my house. “To the Family of Matthew Tasco”.’
‘Did you read it?’
‘I ripped it up into little pieces, and burnt it. Then the next day I wished I’d kept it, as I so wanted to learn who he was.’
‘It wouldn’t tell you.’
‘You know who wrote it?’
Toby nodded.
‘They’ve sent another. It’s on my mantlepiece, but I couldn’t open it. There’s something happening this year, isn’t there?’
He nodded again.
Toby had questions, and after a little while he asked them,
‘Margaret, was there anyone else in the Sheriff’s meeting? The Mayor? Councillors?’
‘I don’t think so. I don’t know.’
‘Margaret, what happened after the meeting?’
‘I went back to work the next morning; and nothing had changed, nothing was said.’
‘Nothing at all?’
‘No, so I just carried on as as normal.
‘Sheriff Thornton did speak to me a few days afterwards though, to say he couldn’t tell me what had happened, that it was a secret deeper than he wanted to burden me with. He asked me, “Are you all right with this, Margaret? Can you live with me not telling you?”
‘And I said yes, that I could see it pained him, but that I trusted him. You see, Toby, if he couldn’t tell me then I knew that it was something very serious.’
‘And he’s never said anything more? For all these years?’
‘I didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell.’
‘Oh, Margaret. What have we put you through?’
‘Not you, Toby. Never you.’
‘You dear woman. You know it’s over, don’t you? You know it’s ending now?’
She nodded,
He didn’t elaborate, but could barely look up as she concluded,
‘The thaw came, the crash was faked, and everyone was gone from town within a couple of days. It wasn’t spoken of again. I only remember that in the meeting they had been discussing just one boy, yet when the car was found it bore a second. Only the police and the Doctor saw him. They gave him a name which we in town all knew to be false. But we knew we weren’t to speak of it.
‘Before the week was out the road re-opened, and the lorries started rolling, and the shops had new stock. The summer workers came, and then the walkers and the tourists. Soon the town was public and alive again, and it could all be forgotten.’
‘And the next winter?’
‘Well, you were here for that, Toby. The Doctor broke all the rules and sent out a letter.’
‘Only enough to tell me something very bad had happened.’
‘Next winter we went on as if it was any other winter. Though worse for us who’d been there that previous year, as if we all bore the shame of it. It was awful, a secret on top of the secrets. And we were terrified. Still are.’
Then she brightened slightly,
‘Though you were back, and I knew they wouldn’t do a thing with you there. They’re scared of you, Toby. You know that?’
‘And you don’t know anything of this second boy? Nothing at all.’
‘Oh no, not quite nothing,’ she said sadly. ‘I have my guesses. But you can’t make me say, Toby. You can’t ask me that.’
He went to protest, but she silenced him with a finger on her lips. Before adding,
‘Only look at the registers of the next year, and see who wasn’t there.’
She disentangled herself from where she’d been crying in his arms, and straightened his lapels. He picked up a peaked cap that had been found for him – Tort’s name was sewn in the rim.
Toby looked upon this woman who he’d known since he was a trainee. Who had looked out for him, and for his father before him, and for countless Deputies over years of tireless service. Now, in his current role as figurehead and on behalf of all the Sheriff’s Office, past, present and in perpetuity, Toby said,
‘Thank you, Margaret.’
And she replied, ‘Thank you, Sheriff. Now, go to where you’re needed.’
And Toby did so, with a head full of new mysteries.
Chapter 70 – Jake Again
Toby only fully appreciated afterwards that he and Margaret had had their secret conversation in the middle of the street. Yet it had seemed fine to do so as the town had somehow emptied, leaving them their privacy.
Unnoticed by Stove then, Toby strolled off on his way. He rounded the corner of the Sheriff’s Office to hear the church bell ringing, he saying,
‘Candlemas – is it that day already? So that’s where they’ve all gone.’
‘Talking to yourself, Sheriff?’
Toby looked to find Jake standing there in the road, bold as brass. Toby grabbed Jake by the lapels, throwing him back into the mouth of the alleyway he’d just emerged from.
‘What’s gotten into you?’ asked Jake, as Toby held him against the alley-fence.
‘I could ask you the same.’
Jake coughed, ‘It must be the spirit of the Stove season.’
‘Do you know the danger you’re in being out?’
‘And who’s to stop me? They’re all busy, or in church.’
‘It’s a bad winter,’ the local explained. ‘Those who aren’t run off their feet would want to be there.’
&
nbsp; ‘But not much Christian cheer this year,’ added Jake. ‘Have you heard the radio forecasts? The sun might be out, but they say the thaw might be a couple of weeks yet.’
‘I’m going to be late getting back to Carvel...’
...It was Toby’s first thought, before he was able to stop it. Now Jake and he shared a look, before Toby said,
‘I know, I know. I’m never going back there.’
Toby tried to calm himself. Seeing Jake had been a shock. He looked left and right along the alley. There was no one around, no danger. He said,
‘But Jake, you still need to be careful.’
Jake also looked side to side, saying,
‘I haven’t seen a Deputy in hours.’ He smiled, ‘And anyway, you wouldn’t set them on me, would you?’
‘Don’t tempt me.’
Jake boasted, ‘I’m the Sheriff’s man now. My influence goes right to the top!’
‘Gah! Listen to you go on.’
Toby sensed that Jake was joking. If he hadn’t he’d have knocked him out there and then and dragged him back to the Emsworth house. But Jake didn’t need to answer. Nor did he bear any malice for his rough treatment. Instead he asked Toby,
‘You’re going to the Doctor’s, aren’t you?’
Toby nodded.
‘Well, we need to speak to him, Toby. We still don’t have the answers, and this may be the last chance we have.’
Toby only took a deep breath. Jake asked,
‘You were going to see the boy?’
‘I have to face him sometime. And as you say, it might be our last chance.’
‘Very brave.’
‘Don’t humour me,’ snapped the Sheriff.
‘What?’
‘You may have the goods on me, Jake. You may own me come the spring, own all of us. But till then you don’t know what I have on my shoulders!’
Jake was aghast, ‘Where the hell did that come from, Chief?’
Even Toby wasn’t sure,
‘I don’t know. Sorry.’
He was all set to barge straight past Jake, leave him to the next member of the Sheriff’s Office he ran afoul of. But then Jake shocked Toby with something Toby hadn’t witnessed in him before: humility.
‘The fight with Crawley took it out of you, didn’t it, Chief?’
Toby’s silence said it all, as he closed his stinging eyes. Details of the battle poured into him to fill the space the adrenalin had left as it withdrew. Toby said,
‘It’s not just that, Jake.’
‘Oh?’
Toby explained, ‘Well, it’s all over, isn’t it? Whatever I do.’
Jake considered,
‘Stove will be, Carvel too. You might even need to serve time. But out of the ashes will come a new life, an honest life. Which will be scary for you, but you’ll do it, because look how brave you are. And you’ll have a living, I’ll see to that. You’ll work with me. Look at the team we make.’
‘But everything gone... Merrill, the Professor...’
Jake could only put a hand on Toby’s shoulder,
‘They don’t call it sacrifice for nothing, buddy. But you see now what the others are so scared of? To break the status quo is to break everything. Taking Crawley in to face justice, true justice beyond Stove..? Unthinkable. You might as well be setting off down that hill with an open letter for the Mayor of Gaidon.’
‘That’s what the Mayor said.’
‘Then there’s a man who isn’t daft. And hey, it’s not all bad. For a start, you’ll lose this damn job,’ said Jake shaking Toby’s lapel.
‘Then call the Workers’ Rights Bureau.’
‘Still got your sense of humour though. That’s our Tobe. And I am sorry, Toby. I don’t mean to needle you. And I don’t begin to hope to understand the hole you’re in. You’re doing great, honestly. But it’s changing, isn’t it, even as we speak. Plans are fluid, nothing’s settled.’
‘No,’ agreed the Sheriff.
Chapter 71 – As the Church Clock Sounded the Quarter-hour
Alone in the alleyway with Toby, Jake spoke,
‘Sheriff.’ He used the title respectfully. ‘I feel I owe you an apology. I wonder if, even now, I’ve been playing this as a kind of game. While, to you and your neighbours, this town is your life and sometimes death. I see that now, I don’t know why I didn’t fully before – after all, I knew about the Worst Year even before coming here. But something in the Billy Meting killing, and people’s reactions. What am I trying to say?’
Toby was as rushed as the Devil, but could see Jake writhing, and knew he had to help him,
‘Just blurt it out, Jake. Surely we two have no secrets now?’
‘Thank you. No, we don’t. We really don’t. I expect we trust each other as well as any two men can. I think that what I’m trying to say is, that at the start I saw only crime and conspiracy, with the Sheriff’s Office as the villains. I saw the seriousness, but channelled it into anger at those I thought responsible.’
Jake continued, ‘I found you at Carvel, Toby, and marvelled – “How can he be so cool? How can he go back to being a regular guy each springtime?” Even worse, working with young people, being their friend and mentor, their study buddy, helping with their experiments. And you meant it. You obviously loved your work there. But I also knew what you did in Stove.’
The church clock was sounding, reminding Toby to get on; but Jake was far from finished,
‘I had a mental imagine of Carvel-Toby and Stove-Toby meeting across a cafeteria table. One in check-shirt and labcoat, one in head-to-toe black. I tried to imagine the two of you shaking hands, and I couldn’t.’
Toby let this image sink in, as Jake gathered himself to continue,
‘You fascinate me, Toby. You did then and you still do now. How do you bear such conflict?’
‘You don’t know till you’ve tried it. You might surprise yourself.’
‘I don’t even want to know! I think I bluffed myself into anger at you, in part to avoid facing that contradiction. A pantomime villain is always easier to get a handle on than a confused, conflicted man. A good man, a moral man driven to – I’m sorry to say it – madness.’
Toby took it on the chin as if a physical punch.
‘Now, I still don’t understand you people. I’m a million miles from pulling on those crow-colours myself. I don’t even want to ask myself what I’d have done if I’d been raised here, had had the sickness, had been asked to join up. I’m not ready to go there, Toby. That’s your own nightmare to bear.
‘But events are accelerating – I see it from my watching post. We won’t survive the winter. And so in the act of ending this now, I want to help you. And I can’t do that in my room.’
He paused. Toby was a statue. Jake went on, ‘You understand the risk I’m taking in coming down here? If you didn’t want to end it, I mean. If you lost your nerve at the last moment, and chose to turn me in. You have all the power out here. You had all the power in the house too, if only you’d realised it.’
Silence.
‘But I think you’re at the right place, aren’t you.’
Still silence. Before Toby lamented,
‘We got so close. All the way to Candlemas.’
Jake agreed, ‘It’s just a shame the thaw’s so late. Another year we might have made it, and we could have published in the spring, like we planned.’
Toby felt old as he continued, ‘And it’s been such a tough one. Everyone’s so tired, and we’ve lost so many staff. We don’t know what boys are out there now, unattended, hurting themselves or their families.’
He paused before concluding,
‘I want it over. And to never happen again.’
His body coursed electric. Yet in his rush of emotions and relief, Toby found himself worrying for Jake,
‘But all your work and research?’
‘Oh, don’t worry. We’ll still need that.’
‘And what about your story?’
Jake answered,
‘But what story would that be presently? The story of me standing by and watching people die? There’s a novel-and-a-half in this, Tobe, mark my words. But I won’t be writing it today.’ Jake ended with, ‘So what can I do?’
‘I don’t know yet,’ answered Toby.
‘Okay.’
‘But you have your bags packed to move?’
Jake nodded, ‘Where do you think Sarah’s been the past two hours?’
‘You have it all? The photos? The files?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then come on.’ But Toby paused after his first step,
‘And Jake?’
‘Yes?’
‘When this is over, if we get down the mountain...’
Yes?’
‘...then disappear. Don’t take any chances. Hole up in a hotel somewhere and get it written. But Jake?’
‘Yes?’
‘Before you vanish, hire me the best lawyer you can find.’
Just then the bells rang out anew, calling the faithful. Meanwhile, keeping off the streets the best they could, the pair ran to the Doctor’s.
Chapter 72 – Sleeping Andrew
The clinic was deserted with the town being at church. Even the nurses and the orderlies had been released from their duties to attend. The Doctor and his patients were the only ones there.
Toby was in the quiet room at the end of the ward, standing at the side of the bed in which Andrew Sippitz lay. He watched as the bedclothes rose and fell to the mechanical rhythm of the boy’s breathing. This was assisted by a machine on the bedside table – it had an artificial lung that breathed in and out for him, passing the air to his inactive body through a tube that ran to cover his nose and mouth.
Beside Toby stood the Doctor, who said quietly,
‘I’m glad you came. I wouldn’t have judged you if you hadn’t.’
‘No, I had to, at least once. I’m not stopping his parents visiting by being here?’
‘No, they come in the evenings. You’ve hours yet.’
Toby asked, ‘He’s not waking up, is he, Doctor?’
‘We don’t know how his body will respond.’
‘You told me once that it becomes serious after five weeks. It’s been that long.’
The Doctor didn’t answer. Instead he paused to undo his shirt cuff and roll up his sleeve to show his forearm. Not for the first time that winter Toby saw a tattoo of a name, in this case a short name, something European. The Doctor explained,