Chapter 10

Adam tried to get into a comfortable sitting position and rolled his shoulders to ease the ache of their being pulled back and his overcoat seemed to be holding him prisoner as well since it was twisted.

Adam looked at Zedock who grinned at him. Adam had always known that Zedock disliked him and Jarrod but this was more than mere aversion. "You killed Isabelle and Beatrice, didn't you, Zedock?"

"Me? No, Adam—of course I didn't—you killed Beatrice and Jarrod killed Isabelle. Where have you been that you haven't heard that? The news is out there and even the police believe it." Zedock laughed again and the big whaler stood and smiled as well. "But actually, Adam, I have never killed anyone. If one has as much money as I do, one can always pay someone else to do the dirty work for them. I have paid this fine whaler here, to help both Isabelle and Beatrice out of this world of misery and grief and to send them on to a better place and to all others, I am innocent and you, Adam, are guilty."

"You took Jarrod's letter out of his coat pocket didn't you?"

"Of course, I did," Zedock said with disdain. "When Isabelle challenged you with the crime for a crime, well, I came up with the idea of creating the 'perfect' crime and I do believe I have done so. It was all planned out logically and coolly. At first wanted to get you, Adam, to take your scarf and plant it on Isabelle, but when I walked by Jarrod's coat hanging there, a corner of a letter was sticking out of the pocket. I just nabbed it, went to the wharf and hired Murphy here. He would do anything for money—anything. Besides, seeing that you and Jarrod are such good friends, I knew it would make you unhappy if Jarrod was an accused murderer and I'll do just about anything to make you unhappy."

Zedock jumped off the barrel and walked toward Adam. "Are you unhappy, Adam?"

Adam looked at Murphy who stood a few feet away but who watched Adam closely. Murdock, he assumed, was just waiting for orders—or his money.

"Yes, I'm unhappy. Why did you frame me with Beatrice's death?"

"Because I could," Zedock said and laughed. "You left your scarf in Professor Donnelly's office and I walked out with it. But the best is yet to come-you are going to be so aggrieved at your sin of murder that was committed in a pathetic attempt to exonerate your friend, Jarrod, that you are going to shoot yourself—right there," Zedock formed his right hand and forefinger into the shape of a gun and jabbed Adam in his left temple. "Bang!"

Adam heard a sound outside the door and Zedock motioned to Murphy to hush. There was one knock, a pause of a few seconds and then two in quick succession.

"Open the door," Zedock said to Murphy.

Adam's hopes rose when he saw Professor Donnelly walk in and then, his hopes fell when the professor spoke.

"So this is your idea of the perfect crime?" He shook his head at Zedock. "Had you told me what you had planned, I would have discouraged you, told you it was doomed to fail. Murder will out. But the biggest mistake you made was to make this crime personal."

"No—it is the perfect crime—I will have succeeded in the death of four innocent people. I planned it out rationally and logically and it is fool-proof. I have already gotten away with the murder of two people. You accepted my proposal that if I could do something that exemplified logic, well, I could pass the class. I have done so and also managed to rid myself of two people I heartily dislike—Jarrod Barkley and Adam Cartwright. Jarrod will be hanged and Adam will shoot himself, splattering his brains all over the wall. It is perfect." Zedock grinned.

"What about him?" Professor Donnelly asked. He motioned toward Murphy. "How does he play into this? He's nothing more than a brute."

"Now look here," Murphy said, "Don't you be lookin' down your nose at me. A man's got to make a livin'." Murphy turned to Zedock. "I want my money now. My ship leaves in a half hour. I done your job and done it well. Even this gent here," he motioned with his head toward Adam, "didn't give me as much of a fight as that big girl did and I should get extra money just for cutting my knuckle on her teeth. Now my money and I'll be gone." The whaler put out his hand and Zedock pulled some bills out of his pocket and handed then to Murphy who quickly counted them and then tucked them into his inside jacket pocket. "Well, gents, good night to all."

Murphy tipped his hat to Professor Donnelly and almost had the door latch in his hand when a bullet slammed through the back of his head and Murphy dropped like an anchor. Donnelly then turned the gun he had pulled on Zedock.

"You are a damnable idiot, Zedock. You claim to be logical and yet you were going to allow the assassin to leave."

Zedock began to sweat; he hadn't expected Professor Donnelly to pull a gun. He feared that he would be shot. Perhaps Professor Donnelly needed to rid himself of all witnesses which included him and Adam since he would be accused of being complicit in Zedock's crime.

Adam sat and watched. He thought he had the whole crime figured out, that Zedock had murdered the two women and he also knew that he and Jarrod had been framed but now he knew why; Zedock wanted to pass a class. It was so mundane, so innocuous a reason that no one would ever suspect the motivation. Zedock had almost committed the prefect crime but made the mistake of including others.

"When you made the proposition about the perfect crime, logically wrought and the perpetrator not even being suspected," Donnelly said, "I didn't take you seriously. I didn't think that you would kill anyone, that your crime would be murder. But then you must have already killed Miss Henry the night you came to see me. Nevertheless, I am going to use this situation to my advantage. Sit down on the floor, Mr. Taylor, and put your hands behind you."

Zedock sat, shaking with fear, and Donnelly took a long knitted scarf off from around his neck and tied Zedock's hands firmly.

"Now," Donnelly said as he looked down on Zedock, "you have proved yourself incapable of carrying out the perfect crime—the perfect murder-because you failed to follow the first rule of assassination—kill the assassin."

"Murphy wouldn't have said anything—he was leaving for sea for a few months to go whaling. No one would find him, think of matching his handwriting to any notes the police may have. There wasn't any need to kill him—he couldn't be connected."

Adam spoke up. "And there was no need to kill Isabelle and Beatrice, Zedock. Don't you understand that?"

"Perhaps I should have had Murphy kill you and Jarrod—a harpoon through your chests," Zedock sneered at him.

"Enough," the professor said. "We'll wait here for few minutes until Husrev arrives."

"Husrev?" Adam looked at Professor Donnelly and then Zedock who appeared as confused as he.

The professor sighed. "I am so sorry, Adam. I do like you—admire you actually-but I find that I must use you for—bartering purposes. I had planned on using Zedock but since you're here as well and I don't want to kill you, I'll use both of you. Believe me, Adam, it does grieve me to have to do this. You see, I have another…vice other than the coffee I so enjoy. The tears of the poppy, so to speak."

"Opium," Adam said.

"Yes. Quite a few years ago I took a trip through Turkey and discovered its pleasures. Husrev, the Turkish captain who brings me the coffee also smuggles my opium in the sacks of coffee beans but this time, he didn't want money. It seems that he serves a wealthy man, a prince of the blood in the Ottoman Empire who has a fancy for beautiful young men. This prince has decided that he wants an American, I suppose for variety. Husrev said that the prince has young men from many other countries to indulge his perverse passions but no Americans, and if I don't deliver, I will not receive any more opium—or coffee." Professor Donnelly gave a small laugh. 'He will be good to you, Adam You are a beautiful young man and I don't hesitate to say that you will probably soon be his favorite. I can see you wearing silk pajamas and an open vest with your dark hair and well-muscled body oiled. I almost find myself desiring you as well."

"So you're going to be guilty of slave trade as well as murder," Adam said showing his disgust.

"Yes, I suppose so. And you, Zedock, having money will not serve you in this case as the prince has greater riches than your family and if you do not behave, well, he may make you a eunuch to guard his male harem."

"Please," Zedock said with desperation. "Let me go. I'll give you money. You can buy opium elsewhere and I swear I won't tell anyone. I swear it."

"Don't grovel, Mr. Taylor—most unseemly. See how Mr. Cartwright has stoically accepted his fate? That is the only logical thing to do. Learn from him."

Donnelly turned at the sound of footsteps. "Husrev is here." He turned back to the two young men but when the door opened, Adam felt a wave of relief flow over him. Inspector Martin and five constables rushed in and held guns on Professor Donnelly.

"Please put down the gun," Inspector Martin said. "It will make things so much easier." One constable was crouched on the floor beside Murphy's body checking his vitals but it was just procedure as it was obvious by the wound that he was dead.

Professor Donnelly sighed heavily. "Yes, I suppose I should. I have only one option after all." Professor Donnelly appeared to be turning the gun in his hand to give it over butt-end first when he shifted it. He quickly placed the barrel in his mouth and fired. Adam flinched at the sound and at the blood that sprayed across him and Zedock including bits of skull and tissue. And the professor fell backwards on top of Zedock who screamed and flailed with his feet.

"Oh, hell," Inspector Martin said. He grabbed Professor Donnelly and pulled him off of Zedock and the dead man stared blankly at the ceiling above after he was laid on the cold floor. The Inspector looked at Adam. "Perhaps you can fill me in on what's happened. Untie them," he said to one of the constables.

"He was responsible for Isabelle and Beatrice," Adam said, motioning toward Zedock as the constable helped him up and began to untie him. "That man, the big one, he's the assassin."

Inspector Martin told the constable to take Zedock to the station and then turned to Adam.

"Thank you, Inspector. I am happy to see you—for once." He grinned widely and the Inspector handed him his handkerchief so that Adam could wipe the blood off his face.

"We would have been here sooner but it seems you gave our man the slip, Mr. Cartwright. Once he spied you again, you were being carried like a sack of grain—he found your hat-and he followed you here. He then needed to notify us of your whereabouts and request more officers." He looked at the two bodies on the floor. "Such a shame—such a loss of life. Two women and then these two. Now if you will come down to the station with me?"

"A pleasure." Adam was only too happy to go down to the police station and he attempted to walk but his legs were shaky. "I think I need to rest a minute," he said as he leaned against the outside wall. For once, he was glad it was cold; the crisp air seemed to revive him.

"Take your time, Mr. Cartwright. We have all night."

Epilogue

The next morning Jarrod's lawyer, assisted by Professor Langston on how to present the request, asked for a dismissal of the charges against him and the judge agreed. Jarrod, smiling broadly, thanked his lawyer and Professor Langston, heartily shaking hands with them both.

"And don't worry about being behind in assignments, Mr. Barkley," Professor Langston had said. "I am sure that if you can present your case, even prepare a motion to forgive your absence that it will go well for you."

And after the hearing, Adam was waiting in the gallery and walked up to Jarrod. The two friends shook hands and then Jarrod pulled Adam to him and slapped him on the back in what passed among men as affection and that night, Jarrod was home in the small rooms he shared with Adam as if he had never left.

"I get back my draft tomorrow from the evidence clerk and I'll cash it then," Jarrod said as he sat on the sofa, a textbook open on his lap, his long legs crossed and his feet on the small table before him. The small furnace was roaring and Adam had also started the stove in the kitchen area so the room was warm. The lamps cast a golden glow about the area and outside, snow gently fell.

"We should be sitting pretty thus month," Adam, said. "My father sent an extra ten dollars." Adam was at the desk reading. He had read the same lengthy passage over and over but each time he was at the end, he realized that he had no memory of the words that had passed before his eyes. He slammed the book shut and the sound startled Jarrod.

"Now what was that about?" Jarrod asked. Things had been awkward between him and Adam and Jarrod suspected why; there were so many things the two friends needed to say to one another, how they cherished their friendship, but as of yet, neither man had the courage to say the words—it might make either one of them vulnerable and things might even be more awkward afterwards. Words stayed around. They had spoken of Isabelle and Beatrice and how sad they were at the women's passing—how the two women hadn't done anything except be argumentative. They had also discussed how Zedock Taylor's family's great fortune might very well get him off with a light sentence, but neither had spoken of their feelings about the situation in which they had found themselves—one of them in jail and needing help and the other desperate to help.

"I can't concentrate." Adam held his head in his heads. Then he blew out his cheeks and turned to Jarrod who closed his book. "Jarrod," Adam began," I've never had a good friend, I mean a friend who actually thought the same way I do about things, who held the same values that I do until I happened to meet you. I value our friendship and I really would have done just about anything to help you. I'm sorry that I couldn't do more."

"Thank you, Adam, for saying that but I know you did all that you could. I also know that I should be closest to my brother, Nick. He's only two years younger than I and we've been raised together by the same parents, lectured on the same things, but he and I—we're different. We value different traits in people, different things and sometimes when I'm talking, he stares at me as if I'm from another world. But you, Adam, I feel closer to you than any blood tie could make us."

The two young men looked at one another. Adam broke the silence. "The business with Professor Donnelly and such, we've never talked about it."

Jarrod sat thinking. "I still can't believe that he…I suppose that if a man has a vice, one like opium addiction, well, he'll do anything to keep the supply coming. The only thing I have trouble with is his thinking that anyone would find you worthy of exchange for drugs." He looked at Adam and they both grinned and then laughed.

And again Adam felt tears so close to the surface that he had to look away. Then he turned to Jarrod.

"Let's go to the Tremont House Hotel for dinner. We're flush with money. Why we can even take a hansom cab."

"Ah," Jarrod said standing up and grabbing his overcoat. "Why not? We can treat ourselves to a nice dish of partridge."

"Yes—chartreuse de perdreaux. And then a nice white wine to accompany it." Adam picked up his overcoat and his hat, pulling the gloves out of his pocket to slip them on. But as he looked at the gloves in his hands, he was back in the interrogation room and Inspector Martin was turning the gloves over, examining them. Adam looked at Jarrod. "I wonder what we did to be so hated."

"Probably nothing. I think Zedock really hated himself—not us. It was just easier that way. Besides, what does it matter now? Many people—have genuine affection for you. Didn't Amy give you a free dinner and you said Mrs. Entwhistle gave you the butterscotch chunks I enjoyed while waiting to be released." Jarrod slapped Adam on the back. "Now let's go to dinner."

Adam pulled on his gloves. He suddenly felt ease. Yes, Jarrod was correct; he did have many people who liked him and cared for him, maybe even loved him—people who had shown him a kindness wanting nothing in return; the universe was benevolent. And the two friends went out together into the night.

~ Finis ~