Chamlay sat stiffly at the table, drawing bills from his pocket and laying them down with meticulous care: smoothing them out, pressing them flat.
Please us and join your daughters, madam, Furber went on, rolling his eyes and looking wildly around. They are caged like birds in the backyard room.
He clutched his chest dramatically.
We shall make your cares, our cares. What shape shall you have them in? Shall they be bats?
Oh stop it, Furber, will you, Menger said.
Shut my shit, is that it?
Jesus—
Any animal, Furber shouted, and all the men stared at him, astonished. We shall take it quickly to our bosoms though they're bitten eachly—
Okay, Chamlay said, and he continued laying down the bills.
Antelope, gazelle, giraffe—
Okay!
We shall form, Furber made a sweeping gesture, one brotherly and sexless chest, a plain of duty, madam. And we, from the towers, shall, and steeples of our eyes, inform you, madam, surely, on the instant that, should any incident,
untoward, or — ah, the money!
Furber rushed to Chamlay's side and peered across his shoulder.
How much, how much, he hissed.
Chamlay swept up the pile and held it out to Lucy. The rent money, missus, wouldn't you say?
Furber leaned weakly against the table, quiet except for his hands which passed frantically over his body — rubbing his face, picking lightly at his clothing, stretching his collar, plunging from there into pockets, pulling on buttons.
You comprehend the significance of this, I trust, Chamlay went on in his solemn interrogator's voice. It was found in Henry's pocket. All ones. In fact we had to pry his fingers loose. I take it, missus, that he died a short while after getting it. Would that be reasonable, you think?
Furber reached Chamlay with a trembling finger.
Easy, he whispered, but Chamlay shrugged.
Henry had his hand in quite a stubborn fist, he said. Like this money mattered to him.
Like it was a message to us, Luther said.
Furber was instantly white.
No, he said.
Well, what do you say?
Easy, Curtis, she's not herself. This is no time — she's sick with worry — wouldn't you be? — my god, be kind.
Furber spoke to Chamlay's ear, but Chamlay simply waggled his head.
It's important, missus, Chamlay said. The law has an interest, you know, he went on, a faint smile rising.
.. interest of the law… I'd forgot, Lucy murmured, quite to herself.
The law has an interest. We all have an interest …
… law.
Yes. And why would a person who was about to hang himself hang on so hard to a little money?
Oh yes… and this… you said something of this, Lucy said vaguely.
Well now we have more information. Now we have Henry, and Henry's money.
Henry…
She drew her arms in a tightly protective X across her chest.
George removed his bandana and examined it.
When did Omensetter pay the rent, he said.
In christ's name, gentlemen, another time.
You'll have to tell us, missus, you know, and while we're waiting here we've plenty of time.
Time… yeah. We've plenty of time.
Christ, yes, time, we've sure got that. We've got no damn horses but we've got time.
Menger finally threw the log.
Someone come on back here, Stitt yelled. The lamp is smoking.
What I want to know is why would Henry hang himself so high, Hawkins said. What would be the point of it?
Funny. I shouldn't be hoarse. It's maybe my tonsils, Tott said. Did Orcutt ever tell you about his cut-rate tonsillectomy?
Hawkins pulled tenderly at his nose.
Say, how's the quality of that poky-dot, George? That was a fine lot. There's no more green in the store. I think that's right. There's no more green.
It's just a spotty snot rag, like any other, George said sourly.
Now we have Henry and Henry's money…
Yes. . you have that.
Oh no it's not. The green? George — on my honor, those were first class.
What would he hang himself at all for, Menger said, blowing his nose in the fire with a crisp snap of his fingers. His life was all right. He had no complaints.
Ah there you are gravely mistaken, Menger, Furber said stepping toward him. The great theological question, gentlemen, he said, turning gently around, is not the existence of evil — no, gentlemen, heaven forbid — the great question concerns, rather, the real presence of good; and the great moral question, gentlemen, he said, still swinging slowly, is not the evidence of freedom, gentlemen — lord love us, we've a lot — but the very possibility of law itself.
What's he saying now?
Shut up, Jethro.
Shut. Shut. Shall I? Shall I shut?
Yes, godammit, shut.
I'm ill … ill… quite ill.
Jesus.
Why would he go that far in the woods, like he never wanted to be found?
George tenderly covered his eye. Out of the cold, it was swelling badly.
Someone come back here for god's sake.
A simple fracture, it looked like to me, Menger muttered.
Chamlay rose and flourished the bills.
Here is the money, missus, he said.
He ran a thumb under his left suspender. The dot flew.
It was in Henry's pocket — this money, here, was. He had his fist real heavy on it when he died. Like Luther says, there was a message in it, a message Henry wanted to send to his friends — at the moment of his death.
Chamlay paused.
Right in the very middle of his dying, you might say. Now Henry — you follow me, missus? you don't seem to be following — Henry was hanging in a tree when we found him, considerable high, far in the woods. He had your rent money in his pocket. You don't deny that's what it is — this money? And his fist was closed tight over it — a sign, I'd say, just like Luther says. Clenched… Tight… Quite a piece in the woods he was, and high, where no one would think to look, very high, in a tree hard to climb.
Curtis, for the love of god—
You comprehend the significance of this?
Where's Orcutt, Stitt shouted. Where is he? What's keeping him?
Orcutt, Lucy said, rising stiffly, releasing the rocker to spill its shadow up the wall.
She was still holding herself tightly by the shoulders and packing her breasts beneath her arms.
The gentle doctor, said Jethro Furber. He's coming?
He's been sent for, yes, but he had to be hunted up… it's cold and now it's snowing.
Brackett went?
I'm sure he had that thought, he—
Knox went. When Boylee fell. He took our horses too, I hope, what he could gather up, Chamlay said. That was hours ago now. Anyway Knox went and not your husband to my knowledge
You don't know, Curtis.
Furber spread his hands. They fluttered uncontrollably.
Curtis doesn't know. I talked to him and it was in his mind. I talked to him myself and I could tell. It was surely his intention—
That murdering bastard, Hawkins said.
You detestable jackal, filthy swine!
Furber wobbled across the room and fell on Hawkins who held him away in surprise and then with a laugh pushed him down into the pile of clothing which shifted and gave way under him, rolling him off.
By, you've changed the roll on your piano, he said.
Chamlay was angry. George took down his bandana and said: I can't open my eye — see? — it's swollen shut. Menger faced the fire, muttering rapidly. Finally Furber turned up and sat quietly, saliva running from his mouth.
You speak too previous, Luther, nothing's proved, Chamlay said. Like I said, missus, where we found him he was high. He had no reason to hang himself. And he had your rent.
Why don't you ask her where he is, Curt? What the hell, let's find out something.
Wait now, Menger, hold a moment. I'm doing this, and that was coming up.