Page 89 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)

SEVENTY-SIX

London, England

Hazy spring sunshine shone through the plate glass windows, casting a golden glow on Rhys, who suddenly looked like a deity wearing a holy halo. Rhys, oblivious to his divine aura, looked across his desk at Quinn.

“Every time we wrap up one of these stories, I think there can’t possibly be a worse way to die, and every time I’m proven wrong.

Dear God, what that poor woman must have endured in her final hours,” Rhys said, shaking his head in amazement.

“I think she truly was damned to deserve such a gruesome end. People today complain nonstop about inequality, the incompetence of the government, and lack of services. They have no idea what life was like in centuries past when a person had no rights at all, especially a woman. Travesty lost her entire family because they’d been quarantined, Simon was sold into servitude for a crime he didn’t commit, John was executed for being homosexual, and poor Mary was banished and essentially murdered by the well-intentioned Dr. Paulson.

He must have arranged for Mary’s coffin to be hidden in that cave, to avoid having to answer for her death. He got away scot-free.”

“He didn’t,” Quinn replied, her tone grim.

“No?”

“No. Once I learned the name of the vessel Mary was on, I decided to trace its history.

The Constance left Jamestown on March thirtieth and was due to arrive in Plymouth at the end of June.

On June 28th, 1621, it ran aground near the coast of Cornwall, the ship smashing to bits on the rocks.

Now, you might think this was spectacularly bad luck, given that they were due to reach Plymouth the next day, but the most likely explanation is that the ship was lured onto the rocks by wreckers, who were after the valuable cargo the ship was carrying from Virginia.

The wreckers never allowed anyone to leave the shipwreck alive, for fear of being reported to the authorities and identified.

They drowned anyone who came ashore. Per maritime records, all souls went down with the Constance , including Dr. Paulson.

“You see, whether you believe in fate or destiny, or some form of divine retribution, Mary wasn’t meant to survive that voyage.

She would have died regardless. My guess is that Mary slipped into a coma after the trepanning and was presumed dead.

Rather than throw her body overboard, as the crew would have done had they been further out to sea, they laid her in a coffin, probably per Dr. Paulson’s request, and would have had her properly buried once they reached Plymouth in a few days’ time.

The coffin must have been retrieved from the wreck with the rest of the cargo and taken ashore, where someone recognized it for what it was and shoved it in a cave just to get it out of the way and not confuse it with anything of value.

The victims of the shipwreck, including Dr. Paulson, were buried at the parish cemetery in St. Just. They lie there still, and I think we should inter Mary and her baby’s remains alongside them after we finish filming the episode. ”

“Yes, that seems fitting,” Rhys agreed. “What I still don’t understand is how Simon Faraday came to take legal possession of John Forrester’s plantation,” Rhys said, leaning back in his chair.

“He had several years left on his indenture contract, and new colonists were coming over on every vessel. Surely that land would have been given to someone else, someone who wasn’t a convicted criminal, and Faraday’s contract would have been sold to someone else. ”

“There are some things we’ll never know,” Quinn replied as she gathered her belongings. “I can only see what Mary saw, so I have no way of knowing what occurred after she left the plantation. ”

“We’ll have to come up with a plausible explanation,” Rhys replied. “All loose ends need to be tied up before we begin filming.”

“I’ll leave that to you. I’m signing off for the next few days.”

“Why is that?”

“We are moving,” Quinn replied happily. “We closed on the house yesterday and Seth is in the process of buying our flat.”

“Do you need any help?” Rhys asked with a smile that said, I’m not carrying any boxes or getting my hands dirty, but if you need someone to bring you a cup of tea and a sandwich, I’m your man.

“Thank you, but we have it under control.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Rhys got to his feet and grabbed his coat as he followed Quinn out the door. “I have lunch plans.”

“Are you blushing?” Quinn asked as they strolled toward the lift.

“Maybe.” Rhys smiled sheepishly.

“I won’t ask you who you’re meeting, because I already know. Give my regards to Jo.”

“I will. Quinn, did you ever ask her?”

“I have.”

“And does she?”

“She does,” Quinn replied, amused by the amazement on Rhys’s face.

“What a fascinating family you are.”

“Jealous?” Quinn joked .

“You bet.”

They reached the lobby and walked out of the building into the mild spring afternoon. Quinn gave him a peck on the cheek and walked away, heading toward the tube station. The case of Mary Wilby was closed, the mystery solved, and now she had to turn her attention to her own life.