Don Gutteridge - The Bishop's Pawn

But McDowell’s expression narrowed. He pausedbefore saying, “You are referring to the shenanigans of TammanyHall?”

“I’ve been told that you visited themetropolis on behalf of your family’s business in Kingston.”

“That is so. I have had occasion to go therea number of times in the past. But over a year ago, when myfather’s health began to decline, I decided to devote myselfentirely to my family and to politics. Mackenzie’s revolt was awake-up call for me. My brother took over the business and I beganto work for the Tory cause in Kingston. As you know, I won a recentby-election and made the decision to move to Toronto permanently -following my father’s death.”

Marc nodded sympathetically. Cobb hadremained standing, apparently bored by this gentlemen’s palaver butactually studying every move that Marc was making in the chessmatch of the interrogation.

“Then it is conceivable that you may have metRichard Dougherty at some time?” Marc said amiably.

But there was nothing amiable in McDowell’sreply: “I never met the creature, in New York or anywhere else. Ifyou had any idea of the outrages he committed that got him tossedout of that state, you would not have the effrontery to ask me sucha question. I heard all about his malodorous exploits before I lastleft New York, and I had no inkling that the vile degenerate hadlanded in Toronto until I heard that Epp had dispatched himstraight to Hell.”

“You didn’t hear about the trial here inJanuary?”

“Of course not. I was immersed in my family’saffairs in Kingston. And I do not appreciate the deteriorating toneof your remarks. I have given you too much of my valuable time asit is. I never met Reuben Epp and I never knew Richard Dougherty.Surely that is all you need to know.”

Just as Cobb assumed that his partner wasabout to give up – for the moment – Marc said, “Epp left his daggerin Dougherty’s back, pinioning a note with the word ‘sodomite’scrawled in red ink upon it. Everybody in town knows about thatword, but only the police know that it was written on a rare typeof bond-paper, manufactured in New York – the very brand that youyourself happen to use.”

McDowell rocked back in his chair. He glaredat Marc as he might an opponent across the aisle who had callouslyinterrupted his speech. But behind the politician’s stare he wasfeverishly reassessing Marc and this sudden turn of events. A slow,gelid smile crept back into his face. “You come into my home, sir,to accuse me of somehow being connected to the heinous actions of alowly verger on the grounds that a piece of notepaper, allegedly my brand, was found attached to the corpse?”

“Your complaint against Constable Cobb herewas written on Melton bond,” Marc said evenly.

McDowell almost laughed. “A brand of paperthat my father’s company has imported for several years, a brandthat I have begun promoting here in Toronto, numerous samples ofwhich my dear wife has been distributing gratis among my politicalcolleagues since November. Are you planning to accuse each of them?You must be mad.”

He started to get up, but Marc’s next burstof speech knocked him back, dazed:

“I believe, sir, that you knew RichardDougherty or that, in the least, you realized that he knew who youwere and what despicable things you had been up to on your visitsto the Manhattan Gentleman’s Club, and that, as you said, youdidn’t know he had come to Toronto. But what a shock you got whenyou spied him in the foyer of the legislature two days before hisdeath. You must have panicked, and then started to cast about forsome way to silence him. He hadn’t seen you, but you knew it wasjust a matter of time before he figured out who you were and what acorrupt hypocrite you’d turned out to be. By chance, your wife’scousin was prompted by Dr. Strachan’s sermon that Sunday to do awaywith the so-called sodomite alluded to by the Archdeacon. Somehow,you got wind of his intention and not only helped him plan thecrime but provided him with that scurrilous note and fifty Americandollars, which we found in his shack. You even tore off the bottomhalf of that note so it might look as if some escaped lunatic hadkilled in a mad frenzy. You, sir, are an accomplice to murder!”

Cobb was almost as amazed as McDowell. Marchad played all his cards at once. McDowell sat open-mouthed,flushed, unable to speak, his anger poorly camouflaging the fear inhim. His lips moved, trembled, but shaped no words of rebuttal.He’s gonna confess, was Cobb’s thought. Marc kept his gaze lockedonto McDowell’s face.

Finally McDowell was able to speak, in ashaky voice that would not have carried over the front benches ofthe Assembly. “Your temerity is as outrageous as your accusations.They are nothing but wild speculation. You have not a shred of realproof.” The high colour was draining from his face as he began toget control of his emotions. His voice had regained some of itsarrogant presumption. “And if you so much as whisper a word ofthese foul claims abroad, I’ll have you dragged into court and suedwithin an inch of your life. Furthermore, when I apprise Sir Georgeof this Reform-inspired plot to publicly disgrace me and thuscripple our opposition to the Durham proposals, you will be luckyif you are not horse-whipped and placed in the stocks.”

There was as much bravado in the retort asbravura, but the accused, within a hair’s breadth of capitulating,had weathered the storm. The major, Cobb had to admit, had led withhis trump, and lost.

McDowell got up, still trembling but buoyedby a surge of adrenalin and a renewed confidence. “Hudson! Showthese gentlemen out!”

But it was not Hudson who now stood in theopen doorway. It was Mavis McDowell. And the look upon her facewould have made a stone weep.

She walked past Cobb and then Marc as if they werenot visible, and stood before her husband.

“Why, Mowbray?” she said in a hollow, pinchedvoice. “I need to know why.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” hesaid. “I was just – ”

“I heard everything. I’ve been standing atthe door for ten minutes.”

“Then you heard a lot of nonsense from these- ” He stopped in mid-sentence and stared at her,uncomprehending.

Her face was devastated, cadaverous – themore so because she was not able yet to force out an amelioratingtear. “I thought we were in this together, saving the province fromour enemies, getting you elected, setting up house here in the seatof power. It was all we shared, wasn’t it ?”

“But – but we still do!” he stammered,looking much less sure of his ground now and not certain how heshould handle this crude interruption. “You don’t for a momentbelieve – ”

“I resigned myself to having no children tocomfort me in your many absences,” she continued, as if he had notspoken, in a toneless voice devoid of any passion and all the moreterrible and pitiable for that. “I got used to sleeping alone. Ipretended not to know of your unspeakable cravings because I lovedthe good things in you, the things that needed nurturing, that Ithought would flourish when we agreed to start again, as partners;when you made those promises to me on your mother’s grave.”

McDowell’s head bobbed and snapped back as ifhis wife’s words were a prizefighter’s blows. He tried to tear hiseyes from her remorseless gaze. Desperately he shouted to Marc,“Pay no attention to her. She’s been ill with a fever for two daysnow. It’s made her delirious. Hudson!”

Mavis McDowell had already turned to Marc. “Ihave the piece of torn paper you’ve been looking for,” shesaid.

“The bottom half of the note?”

“She’s crazy ! You mustn’t listen toher! Hudson! Muriel!” McDowell tried to grab her hand, but shejerked away in disgust.