Don Gutteridge - Desperate Acts

“Ah, but you see, old friend, we don’tactually need to hold it in our hands.”

“Whaddya mean? You plannin’ on a little ledger-domain ?”

“No. I’m counting on the fact that only weand the killer know of its existence.”

“An’ Nestor.”

“Exactly. Can you get Wilkie or one of thepart-timers to cover your patrol for the next hour or two?”

“Wilkie can’t be roused once he’s asleep, butI can get somebody else.”

“Great. Meet me in an hour at yourhouse.”

“You figured out another way?”

“I have. But we’ve got to hurry.”

Cobb got up, started to trot off, thenstopped and turned back to Marc. “You still want me to go up toPokewood Manner tonight?”

“Yes, definitely. For what I have in mind,we’ll need our suspects completely relaxed and off-guard. Aftertonight it won’t matter whether you keep on acting or not.”

“Okay, major. I’ll go. And I have to say, Iain’t hated it as much as I thought I would.”

***

Cobb was waiting for Marc when he arrived at theParliament Street cottage.

“He’s in the kitchen” Cobb said, “eatin’everythin’ but the fryin’ pans.”

Dora was just serving Nestor a plate of crispback-bacon and four fried eggs when Marc and Cobb burst in.

“Finish up yer vitals , Nestor,” Cobbsaid, “an’ then come inta the parlour. You got work to do.”

Dora grinned. “We’re startin’ to fatten himup – fer Sunday dinner.”

“I can’t do no liftin’,” Nestor complainedwithout looking up or interrupting the regular see-sawing of hisfork.

“We’ve got something a lot more interesting,”Marc said.

***

Ten minutes later found Nestor seated between Marcand Cobb at Dora’s little writing-table in the parlour, upon whichwere spread out several sheets of stationery, a jar of ink, and aquill-pen. Marc had finished sketching out his plan to Cobb whilethey were waiting, and both men were highly excited, a state thatprompted nothing but anxiety in Nestor.

Marc began: “Nestor, you are going to help uscatch the man who killed your cousin. I want you to do preciselywhat I tell you, without asking any questions. Is that clear?”

“I ain’t gonna be stickin’ my neck out, am I?‘Cause I don’t think I could manage that in my – ”

“You’ll manage whatever we tell ya tomanage!” Cobb said.

“The alternative,” Marc said, “is for you tobe subpoenaed to testify in court on Monday afternoon.”

That did the trick. Nestor shut up, andcontented himself with looking aggrieved.

“The killer, as you informed us yesterday,wrote Albert a death-threat on the back of Albert’s ownextortion-note. As far as the killer knows, that note is still inexistence. He may even have gone over to your house and searchedfor it. And the killer now knows not only who Albert Duggan was, heknows who he lived with – thanks to the newspaper accounts and thevery public trial. What we’re planning to do is set a trap for him- and you’re going to be the bait.”

“The bait ! But I’m a sick man, Inearly – ”

“Shut up an’ do what you’re told!” Cobbhissed. “Brodie Langford ain’t gonna hang just because you’re asnivellin’ coward!”

Nestor began to tremble, but had no otherresponse.

“Take the pen there and write out on a sheetof paper precisely what I tell you to,” Marc said.

“But I can’t spell,” Nestor protested as hetook the pen in hand.

“I’m counting on that,” Marc said. Then, asMarc dictated, slowly and word by word, Nestor scratched awaybeside him:

Shutelwerth

I’m back in town and I got that note yu sent to

my cuzzin, Mr Duggen. I no yu kilt him. I’l sell yuthe note fer 25

pownds. Cum to the allee behind the cofee howse onYung and King

at 10 Sunday nite. I’l hav the note. Yu hav themunee.

Nestor Peck

“But what if it ain’t Shuttleworth?” Nestor said,beginning to sense what the scheme involved and tremblingaccordingly.

“Don’t worry about that,” Marc said. “You’regoing to make four more exact copies, except that they’ll beaddressed to Tobias Budge, Horace Fullarton, Andrew Dutton andCyrus Crenshaw.”

“My fingers’ll be worn to a frazzle!”

The ingenuity of Marc’s plan, as he hadoutlined it for Cobb, was that only the killer would be tempted torespond to such blatant extortion. The others would dismissNestor’s note as a crank attempt by the murdered man’s cousin tocash in on the crime. And whatever they might think about theeffort, they certainly would not go to the alley behind the BritishAmerican Coffee House tomorrow night at ten. Nor would they likelytell anyone else about it: each of them had a secret to be kept.Moreover, Nestor’s reference to his having possession of adeath-threat note would suggest to them that the cousin had onlythis bogus means of extortion at his disposal – and not thedastardly secrets Duggan had, mercifully, taken to his grave.

Marc had already reconnoitred the alley. Itwas a perfect location. The coffee house would long be closed, andthe street dark and quiet. The alley could be entered at the southend from King Street or at the north end from its junction with theeast-west service lane. And the buildings that formed the sides ofthe alley had numerous ells and alcoves where a man could remainout of sight and still command a view along its entire length.

It took Nestor fifteen minutes of scratching,dipping, blotting and complaining to complete the five separatecopies required. Marc then folded each, tucked it into an envelopeand sealed it. He then had Nestor write the addressee’s name oneach envelope.

“How can I take a letter, which I don’t have,to this alley?” Nestor said when he was finally finished.

“You’ll take this,” Marc said, and showedNestor the note he had prepared and which was to substitute for thereal thing. “I’ve written a phony name at the top and then smudgedit, as if it had got wet. Below it, you’ll see I’ve pennedsomething like the note that Albert sent Brodie.”

XXXXXXXXXX:

Bring the money agen this week to the

usual place. I mean bisness. You won’t want to beruined.

“And on the other side I’ve composed a death-threatof sorts.”

“An’ you think some guy’s gonna give metwenty-five pounds fer this?”

“He is,” Marc said, “or I’ve misjudgedhim.”

“You try an’ run off with the money and I’llbreak both yer legs!” Cobb added.

“But what happens if the fella peeks at theletter an’ knows right off it ain’t the one he wrote?”

“It won’t matter. Once there’s been anexchange – witnessed by Cobb and me, who’ll be hidden nearby – thenwe move in and arrest him.”

“But what if he just comes there without themoney to beat me to death like he did poor Albert?”

“That’s a chance I’m willin’ to take,” Cobbgrinned. “An’ then we’ll know fer sure we got the killer, won’twe?”

“Actually, Nestor, there’s little risk ofthat happening. Albert was killed in a sudden, unplanned burst offury. I don’t believe we’re dealing with a hardened killer. All heneeds to do is buy that note, expecting that Brodie will beconvicted by Tuesday, after which it won’t matter if you go to thepolice or try further extortion, for who would believe you withoutthe note as evidence?”

“You fellas’ll be close by, eh? You won’t letme get hurt?”

“’Course not,” Cobb said. “Right now, you’rethe most valuable person we know.”

“An’ just how’re these letters gonna getthemselves delivered?”

“They’re going to be delivered by hand,” Marcsaid. “Under cover of darkness. Tonight. By you.”