Don Gutteridge - The Widow's Demise

No snooty butler here, was Cobb’sthought.

He introduced himself and said, “Would youhappen to be Gladys?”

The girl swallowed and said, “How did youknow that, sir?”

“I’ve just been speaking with your master athis shop. I’m a policeman investigatin’ a murder – ”

“The one two night’s ago? Mr. Cardiff’sdaughter?”

“That’s the one.”

“How can I help you?”

“I had to ask Mr. Macy where he was thatevenin’ between seven and eight o’clock, and he said he was in hisstudy readin’. He also said that you were in the next room all thetime. Is that so?”

Gladys blushed to the roots of her red hair.“Well, I was in the next room, doin’ some mendin’. But I’m afraid,sir, that I dozed off. You won’t tell the master, I hope.”

“There’ll be no need fer that,” Cobb saidsoothingly. “So you’re sayin’ you were asleep between seven andeight o’clock?”

The blush deepened. “I dozed off about sevenand was woken up by the clock striking nine. Mr. Macy was in hisstudy then.”

“But you don’t know fer sure if he was therebetween seven and eight?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. I don’t.”

Cobb thanked her, reassured her he would keepher secret, and left. So, he thought, Macy as well as Trueman hadno alibi for the time of the murder. The glove could have belongedto either of them. And one or the other of them could have thrownthat acid out of frustration at the lady’s faithlessness.

Cobb decided to go straight to interviewCecil Denfield, though he considered the married man to be less ofa suspect than the other two suitors. Still, Denfield was at thedance, and had danced with Delores. He could also have observedGagnon and Delores dancing, and could therefore prove a usefulwitness, if nothing else. Denfield ran an import-export businesswith a warehouse on Wellington Street east, but Cobb thought hewould try the fellow at home first.

He used the bell-pull and waited.

A butler with slicked-down hair parted in themiddle answered the door. He looked down on Cobb as if from a greatheight.

“Yes?”

“I’m Detective-Inspector Cobb. I’d like totalk to Mr. Denfield.”

“A policeman?”

“That’s right, and I’m here on policebusiness.”

“I’ll check with the master. Please wait onthe stoop.”

As the butler turned to walk down the halloff the foyer, Cobb stepped inside and closed the door. He sat downon a bench nearby and waited.

The butler returned and bade Cobb follow him.Cobb was led to a den that was overheated and stuffy. Denfield, abald man with sleazy eyes and the beginnings of a paunch, stoodbefore the fireplace in his shirtsleeves.

“You are a policeman, sir?” Denfield saidwith a slightly imperious air.

“A plainclothes detective. I’m investigatin’the death of Delores Cardiff-Jones.”

“Ah, such a shame, that. I was shocked tohear of it. But I understood you had a culprit in custody.”

“We have, sir. I’m gatherin’ evidence fer thetrial.”

“I see. How can I help?”

“You were at the Charity Ball?”

“I was.”

At this point the door opened and a brisklittle woman with ringlets and an overly large nose entered theroom.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had company,Cecil.”

“It’s just a policeman asking questions aboutthe Ball.”

The woman blanched at the word “Ball”.

“This is my wife, sir. Mrs. AudreyDenfield.”

“Pleased to meet ya,” Cobb said, giving aslight bow as he had seen Marc Edwards do.

“I’ll just go, then,” Audrey said.

“No, please stay, ma’am. I understand youwere at the Ball with yer husband.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Did either of you see a Mr. Gilles Gagnondancin’ with Delores Cardiff-Jones?” Cobb asked.

Denfield glanced at his wife and said, “Idid.”

Audrey nodded but did not speak.

“Did they talk while they danced? Did theyseem friendly?”

“What an odd question, Constable. As far as Icould see, they just danced, as people usually do.”

“Did they talk together afterwards?”

“Yes.” It was Audrey who spoke. “I remembersaying to Cecil that those two seemed awfully cozy.”

“Surely you exaggerate, dear.”

“I do not. Delores is a flirt, and you knowit.”

“You danced with her as well,” Cobb said toDenfield.

“What of it? She was the hostess.”

“Were you a particular acquaintance of thelady? A friend?”

“We knew the woman socially. That was all,”Denfield said.

“Mere acquaintances,” Audrey said, giving herhusband a sharp glance.

“Pardon me fer askin’ this, sir, but wherewere you between seven and eight o’clock on the evenin’ of themurder?”

“What a strange question,” Audrey said.

“You don’t suppose I had anything to do withthe crime?’ Denfield said, indignant.

“We need to be sure the defense council don’ttry to throw suspicion at others who knew the victim,” Cobbsaid.

“I see. Very well, then. I was home here allevening. Isn’t that so, my dear?”

“We were together the whole time,” Audreysaid with so much conviction that Cobb was certain she was lying.Still, it was hard to see Denfield as an outraged suitor, even ifhe had perhaps been overly friendly with the flirtatious Mrs.Cardiff-Jones. Denfield wasn’t a candidate for husbandhood or aseeker after her fortune: he was married and well-off.

“Would you mind tryin’ on this glove?” Cobbsaid suddenly.

“Why on earth?” said Denfield.

“Humour me.”

The glove slid on easily.

Cobb thanked the surprised couple and left.He stopped at The Cock and Bull for a draught of ale, then went tothe police quarters and dictated his notes to Gussie French. Butthis time he was not so lucky at avoiding the Chief, who steppedout of his office into the anteroom and shouted, “Cobb! In here.Now.”

Gussie smirked and Cobb followed CyrilBagshaw into his office.

Standing behind his desk, Bagshaw said,“Well, Cobb, you’ve gone and done it again. You’ve ruffled thetails of the high and mighty.”

“I have?”

“I’ve had Horace Macy in here accusing you oftreating him as a suspect for murder.”

“I was just quizzin’ him about the CharityBall, sir. I was lookin’ fer a motive for Gagnon.”

“You questioned him about his whereabouts on the night of the crime!” Bagshaw’s eyebrows shot upand shook.

“Well, sir, I thought that Marc Edwards,who’ll be Gagnon’s defense attorney, would try to suggest other menwith motives could’ve done the deed. I wanted to eliminate Macy asa suspect.”

“While suggesting he was one!”

“I’m sorry he took it the wrong way.”

“Not as sorry as I am. I want you to ceaseinterviewing people of quality who might’ve seen something to dowith Gagnon at the Ball. You are to ruffle no more feathers.Besides, we’ve got enough to hang Gagnon without a motive.”

“Am I off the case, then?”

“No, as long as you develop evidence againstthe accused, not go on fishing expeditions that enrage the decentcitizens of the town.”

“I can do that, sir.”

“And stay away from Marc Edwards!”

Cobb left the office, duly chastised. He wentimmediately to Briar Cottage to talk with Marc Edwards.

“Well, you’ve done a full day’s work,” Marc said toCobb as he leaned forward to light his pipe. The two friends werein Marc’s parlour discussing Cobb’s investigation. Both men weresmoking, drawing deep, satisfying puffs. The house was otherwisequiet. Beth, Etta and the two children had gone out for an earlyevening walk.

“Well, I’ve rounded up a few suspects, that’sfer sure.”