There. I had put it into words. Murder.

Private Wilson had already come to that conclusion. He’d brought me here to be his witness.

My mind refused to function. Where to start? Matron, of course. Begin with Matron, I told myself.

Pulling the sheet back over the body and then the face, I said, “How did you discover him?”

“By accident,” Private Wilson answered. “I was doing a count of the bodies, as I always do, for the burial detail’s records, and I found there were fifty-seven, not fifty-six. I started again, and actually walked by each of the rows, to be sure. That’s when I saw the arm. He wasn’t put here by my men, Sister. I see to it that those who died of their wounds are on the far side of the shed, the influenza patients over here. It’s been my way of doing things since this epidemic began in earnest.”

“How did he come to be here in the first place? This far behind the lines?”

“That’s a very good question. My guess is, it’s likely whoever killed him thought to hide him here. But he didn’t know how it was done, did he? How to wind the sheet properly, or which side to put him on, or that my count would be off.” He hesitated. “Do you know him, Sister? Can you put a name to him?”

“I- It’s been quite a few years. But he was a Lieutenant in my father’s old regiment. I’d been told that he’d been promoted again and was now a Major. His name is Vincent Carson.”

“I didn’t wish to speak to anyone else about this business until I’d talked to someone I could trust. I didn’t wish to find myself accused of putting him here. After all, I’m the one in charge of the dead, you might say.”

“No, of course, I understand. Matron is finally sleeping. I’m to wake her in an hour’s time. I’ll tell her then. She’ll know what’s best to do. Can you put off the burial detail? Just for a bit? Once he’s taken away, there’s no hope of proving he was here, how he died, or even who he is. He’ll be in an unmarked grave.”