Don Gutteridge - The Bishop's Pawn

Cobb coughed. So the lieutenant-governor had intervened with Sturges. He felt sorry for thechief.

“And Richard Dougherty was dead,” Marc said,the enormity of that truth striking him hard one more time.

McDowell looked up at Marc. “I wish I couldsay I regretted that fact. But I can’t.”

“Cobb will take you to the magistrate. If youlike, I’ll stay behind and give what comfort and explanation I canto your wife. I shall be as discreet as possible.”

“I would be most grateful.”

“Come along, then,” Cobb said, feeling oddlydeflated.

And just like that, it was over.

***

As he invariably did, Marc lay next to Beth and toldher the whole story of the investigation. Maggie slept peacefullyin the cradle nearby. Celia had returned to her cottage withBrodie, who would surely have much to say to his sister about theirdisrupted past, the revelations prompted by his New York adventure,and what the future might hold for them on their own in an adoptedcountry. Cobb had taken it upon himself to conduct the dazed felonto the Court House, where – to the delight of Magistrate JamesThorpe – he willingly signed a confession. After which Cobb wasreceived at home with more than the usual portion of praise andadmiration.

Marc knew enough not to edit out any detailsof his account in deference to Beth’s feminine sensibility: therewas little in life that she had not experienced or did not wish tolearn about. So it was nearly an hour, and close to midnight, whenhe finally finished.

“So this all started with the ReverendStrachan’s sermon an’ his denunciation of Dick?” Beth said with acontented yawn.

“Well, it’s true that poor Reuben Epp wouldnot have been stirred to commit murder if he hadn’t heard thatsermon. And McDowell, panicked as he was at seeing Dick, would nothave had the courage to kill Dick on his own.”

“And all because Dr. Strachan was upset thatDick wrote a letter to support the Reverend Chalmers, who wasfalsely accused by Mrs. Hungerford?”

“That’s a reasonable inference.”

“An’ she did that, thinkin’ she could helpher husband become rector when the Archdeacon is made bishop?”

“True. But she may have acted for nothing.”Marc smiled ruefully. “There’s no guarantee that Strachan will giveup his rectorship – and the emolument it brings in – even if hebecomes bishop. There’s a rumour going around that the Church inEngland is offering him the glory without the gold.”

“Either way, it don’t seem too Christian tome.”

“Sad, isn’t it? Also, we cannot underestimatethe role played in all this by the horrible events that took placein New York a year and a half ago. Dick was a victim more thanonce.” Marc stifled a yawn. “You know what every element in thistragedy has in common, don’t you?”

Beth rolled over and rested her head in thecrook of his arm. “Fanatics,” she said. “Too many fanatics.”

“Here and in the States – both. We’ve gotOrangemen and outraged Tories on the right and, on the left,principled radicals like Mackenzie, who finally went over the edge.In New York, the Tammany Society was obsessed with keeping America‘pure’ – free of foreigners – and they were willing to corrupttheir own political process to do so. Eventually they foundthemselves having to cling to power by protecting pedophiles andmurderers.”

“An’ poor Reuben took his pastor’s plea toheart. An’ Mowbray McDowell thought he was carryin’ out the Lord’swill.”

“God save us from zealots.”

Beth closed her eyes. “We need more peoplelike Robert. An’ you. It’s goin’ to be a long an’ difficult summer,isn’t it?”

“I can’t deny it. But we’re lucky. We’ve goteach other.”

“An’ Maggie.”

“Ah, yes. My son,” Marc said with an ironictwinkle in his eye.