“Twaits?” says Ritchie.
Jack nods, once.
“So, I want to make sure I am understanding you correctly,” says Ritchie. “You are confirming that the theater was set on fire as part of a slave rebellion?”
Jack glances at Placide, who pretends to be insulted. “Isn’t that what we’ve been telling you?”
“And these slaves,” says Ritchie. “What were they rebelling against?”
“How should I know?” says Placide. “The ticket prices? The long lines? Tommy West’s overacting?”
Jack winces at Placide’s joke, though he’s not wrong about West. He does his best, just never quite hits the mark.
Lydia clears her throat and says, “Should we not assume the Negro might always have reason to rebel against his condition?”
It is a principled argument, and all Jack can think about now is how much she must despise him. He’s as big a liar as the rest of them.
Ritchie rubs his temples. “Mr. Placide, I will give your theory a thorough examination, but in return, here is what I need from you.”
Placide offers Ritchie a slow nod, but Ritchie has given up and is speaking directly to Jack. “I need a list of all his employees, whether they were at the theater last night, and where I can find them now.”
That will be easy enough to put together. “Shall I bring it to you?” Jack asks Ritchie.
“Just have it ready by tomorrow morning. I want to begin conducting interviews first thing,” he says. “Is the tavern the most convenient location?”
“Most of the men stay there,” says Jack.
“Then the tavern suits me fine.” He puts on his hat. “I’ll be there at nine o’clock. Make sure everyone’s expecting me.”
Placide rests his head on Lydia’s shoulder, and Ritchie stands to leave. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
He glances at Placide. “For the love of God, make sure he’s sober.”
GILBERT
Lecretia,” Gilbert whispers from behindthe hemlocks that grow up next to the Prestons’ back porch. She has come outside to empty a dustpan, and she jumps when she hears her name.
“It’s just me,” he says quickly.
She cranes her neck to make him out in the dark. “Gilbert?”
“Don’t say nothing. Will you just tell Sara I’m here? See if she’ll meet me in our usual spot.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “You think she wants to fool around with you at a time like this?”
“Shhh,” says Gilbert, although he should know by now there is no keeping Lecretia quiet. “Who you think’s fooling around? I need to talk to her, is all.”
Lecretia rolls her eyes.
“I’m serious, Lecretia. Tell her it’s important.”
Inside, General Preston is calling for someone, and Lecretia turns toward the noise. “You can go on out there, but don’t hold your breath waiting.” She nods at the house. “Everything is upside down in here.”
“No word on Louisa?”
“Got word from the Prices that their girl Maria made it out. Bad knock on the head, but other than that, she all right.”
