Don Gutteridge - Desperate Acts

Marc sighed, but tried not to let his alarmshow too vividly. While the note itself could be irrelevant,Brodie’s leaving it out of his account would appear to be adeliberate omission – a lie, in legal terms. If exposed, it couldundermine any attempt by Marc to show that the “confession” was thetruth and not a self-serving deception.

“If the Crown does discover this business,Celia, they will certainly press you for anything you might haveheard Brodie say when he read the second note, particularly becauseit came just minutes before he left for The Sailor’s Arms.”

“I understand. I’ll be careful, Ipromise.”

“Did Brodie say anything that the Crown coulduse against him?”

“He just said what he had the first time:‘Don’t you worry, I’ll look after this.’ He is very protective ofme.”

While these comments were delivered in astraightforward manner, there was an evasiveness in her expressionthat was worrisome.

“You’re sure about this?”

“I am. Don’t worry. There’s no way I’m goingto hurt Brodie’s case.”

Marc admired her loyalty and did not doubther courage, but she had never stood in a witness-box and faced thecivilized fury of a Kingsley Thornton interrogation.

***

As Celia had forewarned Marc, her brother wasuncharacteristically downcast. Under the terms of his release,Brodie had to surrender to the court by four o’clock today, andwould remain in custody until the trial was over – and he waseither acquitted or found guilty. But Marc could not think of anytactful way of introducing the topic of the second note. They werealone in Brodie’s study, and after a brief exchange ofpleasantries, Marc began:

“Celia tells me there was a second note fromDuggan.”

Brodie blinked, then grinned sheepishly. “Oh,that. I stupidly forgot to mention it in my statement, and thenwhen I did remember it later on, I figured it was foolhardy toclaim I’d merely forgotten it. But it was just a little reminderfrom the blackguard before the gathering at The Sailor’s Arms. Ishowed it to Celia.”

“And you didn’t say anything aloud when youread it in the presence of your sister?”

Brodie said quietly, “She’s not going to beput on the stand about that business, is she?”

“I’m afraid so. And she’s going to have toface Kingsley Thornton. He’s been appointed prosecutor for theCrown.”

Brodie flinched. “Christ, Marc, is there anygood news?”

“Celia will do fine as long as she only hasto tell the truth,” Marc said, and stared at Brodie.

“If they think she heard me say somethingdamning, they’ll be disappointed.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Besides, nobody knows about the second notebut you, Celia and me. Thornton may be cunning, but even he can’task about something he’s not aware of.”

This was not quite the answer Marc was hopingfor, but he felt he shouldn’t press the issue any further. Insteadhe said, “I do have more positive news.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Marc outlinedthe strategy he had developed for Brodie’s defense. Without givingthe particulars of the three secrets he and Cobb had uncovered,Marc explained that he could, with a lot of skill and some luck,introduce three or four plausible, alternative theories of thecrime and its perpetrator. Brodie listened withoutinterruption.

When Marc had finished, he said, “You’vediscovered motives for three of the five possibles, then? Whatabout Budge and Dutton?”

Marc told him about the “grudge” motive hecould, if necessary, ascribe to the barkeep, and intimated thatDutton was the least likely suspect anyway.

“You’re not going to expose any of thesesecrets in the courtroom, are you?’

“I don’t see the need to. Blackmail per se isthe motive, not its unsavoury detail. Besides which, I don’t haveenough hard evidence to proceed very far before being stopped in mytracks by the judge or Thornton.”

“Still, you will be suggesting publicly thatone of these gentlemen is a murderer.”

“Yes. That’s essential to our prospects.”

“Could you leave Horace to the last?” Brodiesaid, leaning forward with a most solemn look on his face. “Whatgood will it do if I get off and lose the respect of a man I thinkof as a kind of father?”

“To be honest, I haven’t been able to decidein what order I’ll recall the five possibles. Or indeed how manyI’ll need – or can get away with. But I do know how you feel aboutHorace, and I’ll bear it in mind. I promise.”

“Thank you. He’s no killer, and I can’timagine what he’d have to hide from a blackmailer.” Brodie took adeep breath and added, “Nor do I ever want to know.”

“Do you want me to drive up here thisafternoon and take you to the Court House?”

“Stan Petrie is going to do that,” Brodiesaid, referring to his faithful manservant. Then he blushedslightly. “We’re going to stop for ten minutes at BaldwinHouse.”

“Good. You’ve put Diana off for toolong.”

“I know. And, besides, she threatened tointercept me on the lawn in front of the jail if I didn’t show upfirst at Robert’s place.”

At the door, Brodie said to Marc, “My life isin your hands.” Then, when he saw the expression on Marc’s face, headded, “They’re good hands.”

***

Stan Petrie drove Marc down to Front Street and thenwest to the parliament buildings between John and Simcoe. Marcthanked him, and entered the foyer of the House of Assembly. Theafternoon debate was just underway as Marc made his way up to thecrowded gallery. He stood at the back and looked for signs ofRobert and Francis Hincks on the spectators’ benches below, butcould not see them. They were no doubt not too far away, shoring uptheir unlikely coalition. But their efforts and stratagems werepaying dividends right here before Marc’s eyes. Before the hour wasout, the Speaker called for a division on the union clause of thebill. The bells rang vigorously. The spectators buzzed – manyexcited, some anxious. When the vote was taken ten minutes later,the political union of Upper and Lower Canada was approved byforty-four to eleven – a landslide. The opposition hadcollapsed.

It was by no means finished, though, as Marcand the Durhamites well knew. The hard-line Tories would try to winback the support of the moderate conservatives, and mavericks likeTiger Dunlop, on the question of the specific terms of theunion. If successful, they could emasculate the union principleitself. Several of the terms to be debated now were emotionalpowder-kegs. For example, the House, as committee-of-the-whole, wasset to discuss the number of seats each province would be allottedin a bicameral Canadian Legislature. The bill as it stood calledfor equal representation in both chambers, a proposal that favouredUpper Canada with one hundred and fifty thousand fewer people thanQuebec. This advantage, however, was not enough for the Tory group.To offer equality of opportunity to a race of backward people -who, as recently as two years before, had taken up arms against theMonarch and invited American freebooters to invade Her Sovereignsoil – was tantamount to sanctioning treason, was it not? And howmuch of the current Upper Canadian debt was due to the rebellionitself? And so on. These were irrational or misguided arguments inMarc’s view, but they stirred passions and opened wounds onlypartially healed. The outcome of this part of the debate was not aforegone conclusion.

Marc left the Assembly a few minutes laterand walked along Front Street to Bay, where he poked his head inthe door of Baldwin House. Robert was not in, but Diana Ramsay,looking radiant despite the worry in her face, greeted him in thecentral hallway. The very sight of her should go far to boostingBrodie’s sagging morale, he thought. After all, it was for herhonour that he had bearded Duggan in the first place, and it wasshe who figured wholly in his vision of the future.