Don Gutteridge - Desperate Acts

“Well, he spent a lot of time chattin’ peopleup in the pubs around town. An’ one day in September, he told melater, he’d met an old fella in The Crooked Anchor who’d been inthe militia an’ fought a long time ago in the war with the States.Albert got him good an’ drunk, an’ the fella got to reminiscin’about his glory days, an’ one of the tales he had to tell – ”

“Involved a certain Corporal Crenshaw who wasshot for cowardice,” Marc said, to Nestor’s amazement.

“Why are you askin’ me the questions?”he said.

“Just shut up an’ answer them,” Cobb said.“You ain’t outta the woods yet.”

“Well, it was about Cyrus Crenshaw’spapa, and I stupidly blabbed about who he was – runnin’ thecandle-factory an’ livin’ in a fancy brick house.”

“You got a healthy supply of stupidity,” Cobbsaid.

“We have reason to believe that your cousinwas also blackmailing Andrew Dutton, the retired lawyer. Did Alberthave anything on him?”

“Oh, that. Well, one day Albert come home allexcited, sayin’ he’d just found out that that fella was livin’ herein town. I asked him why that made him so happy, an’ he said hisjob in Montreal was workin’ in the asylum there – the place wherethey keep the worst of the loonies. One day, he said, a lady whowas as mad as a hatter got sick an’ died. An’ Albert bein’ Alberthad got himself a key to the files, which he said he liked to readfer his amusement – ”

“Jesus, Nestor, ain’t you got one brain torattle around in that empty skull of yers?” Cobb said with muchdisgust.

Nestor ignored the insult. “Anyways, he knewthis old lady’s name was Mrs. Felicity Dutton an’ the file saidshe’d been put in the asylum by her husband, Andrew Dutton, a whileback, but nobody knew where he’d got to.”

“Until Duggan found him here and checked himout,” Marc said. “I’ll bet he was more than excited when he learnedAndrew Dutton was alive and well in Toronto – and had married asecond time. Making him a bigamist.”

“Jesus,” Cobb said, “is there no end to allthis?”

“There’s Tobias Budge,” Marc said.

“I don’t know anythin’ about Mr. Budge!”Nestor cried, blinking fiercely at the obvious lie. “He’s been realgood to me, givin’ me a job when nobody else would. And if I everdid know anythin’ bad about him, which I don’t, I’d never tell -”

“It’s all right, Nestor,” Marc soothed. “Itdoesn’t matter. From what we already know about Albert and theBudges, your cousin most likely found out what he needed to knowwithout your help.”

Nestor choked back a sob. “But I ain’t gotthat job no more, have I?”

Cobb wanted to say something sharp aboutcowards running away to the bush, but he couldn’t bring himself todo so. What he did say was, “So yer so-called cousin had the goodson half a dozen honest citizens an’ you never guessed he was in theblackmailin’ business?”

“Not until the night before he got himselfkilled,” Nestor said.

“He told you then what he was up to?’ Marcsaid.

Nestor nodded, sniffled and said, “We wassittin’ in the cottage drinkin’, an’ Albert starts braggin’ abouthow we’re soon gonna be rich as Creases. When I laugh, thinkin’it’s a joke, he gets real mad. He stomps inta his room an’ comesout with a piece of paper in his paw, wavin’ it in front of myface. ‘It’s easy as pokin’ a hooer,’ he says. ‘I just send ‘em anote like this, tell ‘em where to leave the money, then I sneak upan’ grab it. The poor slobs’ve got no idea who’s fleecin’‘em!’”

“You saw one of his extortion-notes?’ Marcsaid.

“Not right then. When I figured out what hewas tellin’ me, I got so scared I started to shake. I told him he’dget caught, an’ go to jail – an’ I might haveta go with him. Whenhe wouldn’t listen about that, I told him it was a dangerousbusiness. I said one of them bigwigs or his henchman could hangaround till he grabbed the money an’ do him some real harm, maybeeven kill him.”

“But he ignored your warning?” Marc said.

“He laughed again. He said one of themdonkeys’d already threatened to kill him if he didn’t stop, an’ heshowed me the paper to prove it.”

Marc went very still, and heard the intake ofCobb’s breath. “Go on, Nestor,” he said quietly.

“I read it. It was a death-threat alright,and it sounded serious.”

“Was it signed?”

“Oh, no. But the writin’ was prettyfancy.”

“Had this person discovered who theblackmailer was?”

“Oh, no, nothin’ like that. The promise tokill him was written out on the back of one of Albert’s own notes,the ones he used to make sure they’d keep on payin’. It comewrapped up with the money.”

“In that case,” Marc said, glancing at Cobb,who also understood the significance of this startling revelation,“the name of the person making the threat would likely appear onthat side of the note as the addressee, wouldn’t it?”

Nestor looked abashed. “I did have a peek atthat part ‘cause I recollect bein’ curious about how Albert managedto scare these people into shellin’ out their money.”

“And?”

“And I can’t remember which of the bigwigs itwas addressed to.”

“Jesus, Nestor. What’s the matter with you?”Cobb yelled, causing Nestor to jump and nearly tumble off the cot.“This fella’s gotta be the bastard who did yer cousin in! An’ yousit there an’ tell us you can’t remember his name!”

Nestor sobbed, and put his head in his hands.“I already tried to, Cobb. I thunk about it fer two awful weeks outthere in the bush. But I was drunk that night, an’ Albert snatchedthe paper back before I could do much but give it a quick peek. Itell ya, I just can’t remember.”

“If you thought Albert was in mortal danger,”Marc said, hiding his disappointment, “what did you do the nextmorning? Did you threaten to go to the police?”

“When we sobered up, I begged him to give themoney back an’ maybe everything’d be okay. He laughed in my face. Iasked him where he’d hid the money, an’ he laughed again. He saidhe’d just got a couple of new fish on the line, an’ things werelookin’ up. An’ he left. And I never saw him again till he got hisskull crushed there in the alley.”

“But you didn’t come to me , did ya?”Cobb said.

“I was goin’ to, honest, Cobb. I searchedeverywhere in the house fer the loot, but couldn’t find it: Ifigured if I got the money an’ hid it myself, I could talk somesense inta him. Then I went to The Sailor’s Arms. Mrs. Budge wantedsome furniture moved. I couldn’t let her down, could I? Then Istayed to help out in the bar. An’ then it was all too late.”Nestor couldn’t continue. His sobs were piteous and loud – bringingDora into the room with a frown on her face.

“You been abusin’ my patient, MisterCobb?”

Cobb sighed. “He’s beyond abusin’.”

“You get some rest now, Nestor,” Marc said.“You’ve been a big help.”

“He has?”

“Yes,” Marc said. “He’s given me enoughinformation to ensure that Brodie Langford is acquitted onMonday.”

***

Marc explained it all to Beth over a late supper.They were alone. Charlene had tucked Maggie into her crib and thengone off with Jasper Hogg to a card party at McNair’s house.

“What Nestor gave us, luv, is proof positivethat Duggan was a persistent blackmailer, and that the initials andnotations on his secret list – still in my possession – can berelated unequivocally to our five ‘possibles.’ What’s more, Nestorknows how Duggan obtained the information he used to extort moneyand how he set up his scheme. Since it jibes in every respect withthe modus operandi used on Brodie, there is no question butthat Duggan is the sole blackmailer in each instance.”