“The cases I’m investigating are stoning deaths, Miss Quinn. Perhaps you have read about them—there have been one or two newspaper accounts.”
Clementine walked a few steps in silence. “No. I had not heard of them.”
“Five young women. In each case, the stones are animated and cast by people unseen. They are cast by enchantment, which is why the matter falls in my hands.”
“Are there witnesses?” It was the first time Clem had indicated any interest in what Maxwell had to say, and I could see him making note of it.
“In some cases, yes. There’s one account that particularly disturbs me. A witness who knew the victim saw her in the company of her mother; she was following her into the woods near their home.” Maxwell paused. “The mother has been dead more than a year.”
Clem glanced at him sharply. “A thew in disguise?”
Maxwell nodded. “It seems likely to me. In other cases, where I have witnesses of the stoning itself, they describe movements—shapes and configurations—made by the stones before they are hurled.”
“And the papers at the courthouse seemed similar to you.”
“Exactly.” They paused at the edge of the square to wait for a passing coach. “Miss Quinn, the cadavers show signs of bruising—bruising caused by the stones. And that should not be.”
“Perhaps it’s another aspect of the enchantment.”
They crossed the road together and began walking northeast along Essex Street. “I’ve no doubt that it is,” Maxwell agreed. “Because the bruises are not arbitrary. They make deliberate markings.”
Clem stopped on the sidewalk. “What do you mean?”
Maxwell paused beside her. “Writing. The bruises make writing.”
“What writing?”
Maxwell took a deep breath. “I can’t say.”
“You don’t know, or you won’t tell me?”
He hesitated. “Letters. The bruises write letters upon them. I’ve not yet been able to understand what they mean. They are incomplete words, or initials, perhaps.”
“Where do the letters appear?”
“Generally on the back.”
“I see.” Clementine resumed walking, her steps slower than they had been. Did she? Did she perhaps finally see why I’d been warning her repeatedly, why I’d driven Maxwell to her door? She looked pensive rather than concerned, but it was a start.
Maxwell forged on. “I hope you can also see why I’d be concerned about the papers. I’ve not before had a chance to speakwith any of the young women prior to death. It may be that they, also, experienced attacks with less lethal objects beforehand.”
They had reached the corner of Hardy Street, and Clementine paused her steps. “Constable, I understand the possible connection. I’ll be attentive. If I have anything to add, I assume I may find you at the Salem station.”
Maxwell made a small bow. He was being dismissed. “Yes. Thank you. Miss Quinn, if I may ask…” He hesitated. “Have I perhaps offended you without intending to? I’d be glad to make amends; it’s important to me that I have your trust, considering that your safety may be at stake.”
Clementine looked at Maxwell. “You haven’t offended me, Constable. But your profession has. My mother was killed by an enchanter six years ago. No one in the police force could be persuaded that her death merited any attention. She was deemed a suicide, contemptible and pathetic. She was left to her fate, and we were left utterly without recourse. So I’ll heed your words, and I’ll take precautions, but it’s unlikely that you’ll have my trust.” She looked him in the eye, her expression unyielding.
I was stunned. Maxwell, too, seemed caught off guard, for he didn’t reply at once. He gazed back at her unflinchingly, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I see,” he said finally. His voice was somber. “I’m very sorry for your loss, and for the inexcusable neglect of my department.”
“I doubt you were part of it, six years ago.”
“No. I joined just two years ago.”
“I hope for the sake of those five women that you’ve improved the department.” Clem gave a brief nod. “Good morning, Constable.”
“Good morning, Miss Quinn.” He watched her go, athoughtful expression on his face, until she had disappeared down English Street.
I was thoughtful as well, but I was also hopeful. I had managed, through my reliable Maxwell, to give Clementine a warning in the clearest terms possible. Surely, I thought, surely now she would heed it.
