Don Gutteridge - The Widow's Demise

“He will, sir.”

“Well, then, how can I help you?”

“We’re tryin’ to find a motive fer theacid-throwin’, sir. We need to know how well the murderer, GillesGagnon, knew yer daughter.”

“I only met the fellow once, at the Ball theother night,” Cardiff said. “As far as I know, he’s only been intown a week or so.”

“And yer daughter?”

“The same: she met the fellow for the firsttime when she danced with him near the end of the Ball.”

“Did they have a conversation?”

Cardiff was taken aback by the question, buthe answered readily enough. “They might have exchanged a few wordsafter the dance. Nothing more. We’re obviously dealing with someonewho’s deranged. He threw acid at a woman he barely knew.”

“Perhaps he mistook her fer someoneelse.”

“I doubt it. He did visit Rosewood oncebefore – on political business. He knew the house and who livedhere.”

“Who else danced with yer daughter at theBall?”

“What an absurd question!” Cardiff’s eyebrowsshot up.

“Well, sir, it’s possible Gagnon took a fancyto yer daughter. And so jealousy might be a motive.”

“Sounds far-fetched to me. But she did dancewith many men that night. The only ones I can recall are LionelTrueman, Horace Macy and – yes – Cecil Denfield. I remember himbecause his wife took a fainting spell shortly thereafter and hadto be helped from the room. I recall Trueman and Macy because bothof them have been paying suit, against my wishes, to Delores.”

Cobb made a mental note of the names.

“Is there anything else, Detective?”

“Did you see anythin’ the night yer daughterwas killed?”

“I last saw Delores at supper. I retired tomy den at seven. I heard some noise in the foyer about seven-thirtyor so that suggested Delores was going out. Where I do not know. Iwas then summoned hastily by Vera and found my daughter dead on thewalk.”

“Who’s Vera?”

“Delores’s personal maid. She would havehelped Delores get ready to go out.”

“Might I talk with her?”

“If you must. She’s in the kitchen at themoment, helping to clear up the breakfast dishes.”

“I’d like to see her right away. And thankyou fer your cooperation.”

“I’ll get Diggs to show you the way.”

***

Cobb followed Diggs to the kitchen. He could feelthe heat of a warm fire before he stepped in. He spotted the cookand a uniformed servant, who had to be Vera, over by the sink. Justas he came in, the back door opened, and another servant-girlappeared in the doorway for a split second before she saw Cobb andretreated in a hurry. But not before Cobb noted that she was verymuch pregnant. Well, such things happened in the households of therich: it was no business of his. He had more important matters totend to.

“Hello, ladies,” he said. “I’mDetective-Constable Cobb.”

“You want to speak with us?’ the rotund cooksaid.

“Just with Vera, if ya don’t mind.”

“You can sit over there in the corner if youlike. Vera, go with the gentleman. I’ll bring you a cup oftea.”

“That’s kind of you,” Cobb said, followingVera to the table and two chairs in a far corner of the big, warmroom.

Vera was a thin, wispy sort of girl, no morethan twenty. Her face was puffy, the after-effects of much crying,Cobb concluded.

“I’m very sorry about yer mistress,” Cobbbegan.

“She was the nicest woman,” Vera said,holding back her tears as best she could. “I don’t know what I’lldo without her.”

“You were her personal maid?”

“I looked after her, I did.”

“And very well, I’m sure,” Cobb said, prayingthat the girl would not break down and weep. He never knew how tohandle a weeping woman.

“Thank you, sir. You’re very kind.”

“What I need to know from you, Vera, is whenyou last saw yer mistress.”

Vera looked up, and was saved, momentarily,from tears by the arrival of the tea.

Cobb thanked the cook, and said, “ Well,Vera?”

“I helped the mistress get ready to go outfer her visit shortly after seven o’clock.”

“Oh? Where was she going?”

“To visit her friend Marion.”

“Marion who?”

“Marion Stokes. She lives up on WellingtonStreet. It’s walking distance.”

“Was this a regular occasion?”

“Oh, no. A message come about quarter toseven asking the mistress to come over to Marion’s place. There wassome sort of crisis.”

“Was this a written message?”

“Oh, yes. I took it at the back door. A younglad delivered it.”

“Have you still got it?”

“Oh, yes, it’s right here.” She drew out ofher apron a folded sheet of paper.

“May I see it?”

Cobb read:

Dear Delores:

Please come to my house right away. I

need desperately to talk with you. I knowyou won’t

fail me:

Your friend,

Marion.

“And did you ever find out what the matter was?”

“That’s the strangest thing, Mr. Cobb. Marioncome over to pay her respects to the master and when I asked herabout the message, she said she didn’t send any message. I showedher this one, and she said it looked a bit like her handwriting butwasn’t hers.”

That is odd, Cobb thought. It sounded as ifthe killer, whoever he was, had used a false message to lureDelores outside. Where he was waiting.

“Would yer mistress not have recognized thatthis wasn’t Marion’s writing?” Cobb asked.

“Probably, but I read the message aloud toher. She never bothered to glance at it. She was just worried abouther friend.”

And whoever sent the false note, Cobbthought, must have known Marion and Delores were very good friends.How could Gagnon know a fact like that if indeed he had met Deloresonly once? He would have to let Marc know right away. This was animportant piece of evidence.

“So you helped get her ready to go out?”

“I did. And I walked her to the foyer and sawher leave . . . fer the last time.” A tear eased its way down herright cheek.

“You didn’t happen to look out the window andsee anythin’?”

“No, sir. I went back up to my room.”

“Well, thank you, Vera. You been a big help.”Cobb finished off his tea. Vera had not touched hers.

“By the way, Vera, who was the lass who comein just as I arrived?”

Vera blushed. “That was Peggy Jane Doyle. Theupstairs maid.”

Cobb nodded and made his way back through thelong hall to the foyer, where Diggs intercepted him.

“Good day, sir,” he said in his mostdignified manner.

“Good day,” Cobb said, well pleased withhimself.

***

Cobb found Marc home at Briar Cottage on SherbourneStreet. He was in the living-room playing with Marc Junior andMaggie. Beth was a t work at her business on King Street, Smallman’s ladies clothing store and tailoring. Etta Hogg,their former neighbour and now all-purpose servant, was in thekitchen preparing luncheon, but had come out to answer Cobb’sknock.

“Come on in,” Marc called out to Cobbstanding in the vestibule.

“I’ll just stay a minute,” Cobb said.

“I’ll take the little ones, sir,” Ettasaid.

“Thank you, Etta. Mr. Cobb looks as if hewants to talk.”

Maggie gave Cobb a big smile, then frowned asshe was led away – disappointed.

“I got some news, Major,” Cobb said as he satdown.

“Good news, I trust.”

“I believe so, Major.”

And, as he had done so many times in thepast, Cobb relayed to Marc, in detail, the substance and results ofhis interviews.

“You’re quite right,” Marc said when Cobb hadfinished. “There’s no way Gilles could have known about MarionStokes, the friend of Delores. I’ll add Vera to my witness list. Asthe note was a phoney, we can infer that it was sent by the realkiller to lure the victim out onto that walk.”