Chapter 21

On Monday Beall rode to the Brookes plantation under a slate gray sky and in the face of a brisk and shifting wind from the northeast. It was going to rain soon if it did not snow, he thought. He was admitted quickly and greeted by Judge Brookes in his study.

"Bad news, I'm afraid, Beall. Got you here falsely, I fear."

"How's that, sir?" Beall took his usual chair near the former judge and the small fire.

"My son has left, perhaps permanently. He has decided to go west, to the Ohio Country he said, and start a new life. Oh, he knows the border is closed and that the Quebec Act is in force, but he claims it is a huge and rich area. He was out there during the Revolution. I just found that out yesterday." Brookes shook his shaggy head and his old wig flopped about.

"Was he, now? I'm sorry if my inquiries caused this, sir. It was not my intent."

"No, I think this had been coming on for some time, perhaps since James accepted that parole. That was the start of it I'm sure," said the older man with a sigh. "And I'm sorry I lied to you about it, but I had promised the boy. He was very restless, and he did not get along with his step-mother, her daughter or our new child, I am most sorry to say, very unfortunate."

"Did he tell you anything about Sparks?"

"Yes, he did. I was shocked that he knew that rogue and then even more shocked when James admitted that he killed him. Said the man had been trying to extort money from him to keep quiet about his wartime lies and that when he refused, Sparks attacked him, and he killed him in self defense."

Beall sat quietly, weighing this and wondering where to go next with his questions.

"Did he say how he killed him, or where?"

"Yes, said he shot him after a struggle and that Sparks' body fell into the river down near Georgetown somewhere. Can't imagine why James would have been down there."

"Judge Brookes, I saw Sparks after they fished him out of the Potomac. He hadn't been shot. His belly was sliced open and someone had cut off his penis. Sorry, sir," Beall finished when he saw the astonishment on his old compatriot's face.

"That's dreadful, Beall. I can hardly conceive of it. Never heard of such a thing."

"I'm afraid it's true, sir, and I think James and Jonathan Sparks had known each other for some time, down in Georgetown as well as back in '77."

"That's possible. James did spend a good bit of time away from home. Never asked him about it, I'm afraid, as long as the work got done out there." Brookes waved in the general direction of his farm. "Assumed he was sowing some wild oats, I suppose. Roistering about."

"Did you see James when he came home during the Revolution?"

"Oh yes, very briefly. He was unhappy, indeed angry, when he found that I had remarried. Lost his temper and said things that he later regretted, apologized for. Then, after a week or two, he disappeared, vanished. Said he was going back to the fight no matter what he had sworn."

"Do you think he did?"

"Now I don't know. Although he said he was with somebody called Rogers or some such name, out near Detroit, but I don't know what to believe."

"Did he ever mention the Clagetts, the folks who were killed?"

"No, not that I recall, except perhaps to say that she was a lovely woman. They had paid neighborly visits on both my late wife and the present Mrs. Brookes. I thought them fine, ordinary folk, the kind that does all the hard work around here."