Don Gutteridge - The Widow's Demise

“Go home, LaFontaine!”

“Nothin’ but the noose for Frogs!”

Very slowly the horses nudged their waythrough the crowd, its members parting reluctantly before thehorses’ progress. At this point a jailer appeared at the door withGilles Gagnon. A great whoop of anger rose from the assemblage.Wilkie and Rossiter stepped forward towards the brougham as it drewup before the door.

“Get in, quick!” Marc said to Gagnon.

The crowd began to push in on the vehicle.The horses snorted and grew restless. Gagnon stepped between thetwo policemen and into the rear seat of the brougham. Suddenly thecarriage began to rock back and forth. Hands reached over the doorsand grasped at the occupants.

“Hang the frogs!”

This single cry quickly became a chant, andthe brougham rocked dangerously.

“Do something, Wilkie!” Marc cried. He wasusing the reins to snap at several grasping hands.

Wilkie and Rossiter drew theirtruncheons.

“Make way!” they hollered, stepping into themob and swinging their weapons.

Marc cracked the reins over the horses’ backsand they plunged forward. Wilkie and Rossiter had managed to cleara vee in front of the team, and they were able to begin to moveahead. Once they got some momentum up they were able to force theirway through the mob and out onto King Street.

“Follow them!”

“On to Baldwin House!”

“We’d better get there before they do,”Hincks called up to Marc.

“Are you all right, Gilles?” Louis said.

“I’m fine,” Gagnon said. “But I’ll feel a lotbetter when we’re safe at Baldwin House.”

As they turned west on King Street, the mobstreamed after them, leaving Rossiter and Wilkie bruised and alonein front of the jail.

“Get up some speed!” Hincks called up toMarc.

“I can’t,” Marc said. “They’re too many rutsin the road.”

The August rains had left the gravelledstreet in poor condition. Deep ruts criss-crossed it everywhere,the result of heavy cart traffic. With the dry spell that hadfollowed the rainy weather, the ruts had hardened into iron-likeridges. Even at a sedate pace, the brougham jounced and rocked.This slow progress allowed the mob to follow closely behind. Theleading members were only four or five yards behind thecarriage.

The brougham and its pursuers reached BayStreet. Marc looked down towards Front where Baldwin House stood,and his heart sank.

“Some of them are already there!” he shouted.“They must have guessed where we were going.”

“What’ll we do?” Louis said.

“We’ll head on out to Spadina,” Marcsaid.

“Great idea,” Robert said.

Spadina was the country house of the Baldwinfamily, father and son. It lay a few miles north-west of the cityboundary, and was accessible only via Spadina Road, which had beenspecially cut through dense forest.

Marc pulled the team back onto King. The mob,somewhat winded, nonetheless continued to follow them thirty orforty paces behind. The intersection of York and King wasparticularly pock-marked. Marc should have slowed to a walk, but hedidn’t. There was a loud crack as the rear axle snapped in two. Thebrougham lurched sideways and backwards, and its occupants grabbedanything near them to prevent themselves from tumbling out.

Marc swung into instant action. He unsnappedthe horses’ harness and detached them from the carriage. The mobwas closing in, clubs brandished.

“Quick, Giles. We’re going the rest of theway on horseback!”

Gagnon, dazed, staggered out of the carriageand came over to Marc. Marc cupped his hands for a stirrup, andGagnon climbed aboard the larger of the two horses – bareback. Marchauled himself up, clutching the horse’s mane, and managed to siton the beast in front of Gagnon.

“Put your arms around my waist and hang on!”he shouted to the Frenchman.

Gagnon did as he was bid.

Just as the mob reached the broken carriage,Marc and Gagnon took off at a fast trot. Fortunately the horse hadbeen well ridden before being demoted to carriage duty. With Marcholding onto the bridle only, it allowed itself to be directed downKing Street towards Brock. The mob howled its displeasure, but withthe object of their fury escaping, they quickly dissipated,grumbling and frustrated. They left Robert, Louis and Hincks todeal with the broken carriage.

Meanwhile, Marc proceeded up Brock Street tothe Spadina Road and entered the eerie quiet of the woods. Heslowed the horse to a steady trot, and thirty minutes later theyarrived at the splendid country estate of the Baldwins.

At their approach, Dr. Baldwin emerged fromthe front door, smiling.

***

Cobb arrived at the police quarters at nine-thirty,in time to see Constables Rossiter and Wilkie limp out of theanteroom to resume their beats. Wilkie had a patch on hisforehead.

“Terrible business,” Cyril Bagshaw said toCobb as he came in.

“What happened?” Cobb said.

“A mob happened, that’s what!”

“After the Frenchman?”

“Exactly. They showed up before nine andattacked my men.”

“Did Gagnon get away?”

“The last I saw of them they were leaving themob behind down King Street. I assume they made their escape. Ibeen told the mob broke up and scattered. But Wilkie recognized acouple of them. We’ll pay them a call today and see that they cooltheir tempers in our cell.”

“I wish I’d’ve been there,” Cobb said.

“I’m glad you’re here now because I’ve gotsomething to discuss with you.” Then he added in a tone that madeGussie French stop scribbling and look up, “In my office.”

Once inside and seated, the Chief said, “Igot a visit late yesterday from a Miss Constance Brown.”

“Oh . . .” said Cobb, his throattightening.

“You’ve been at it again!”

“I interviewed her, that’s all.”

“You accused her of killing Mrs.Cardiff-Jones!”

“I only asked her where she was when thecrime was committed. She had no alibi.”

“She doesn’t need an alibi! Theculprit has been charged and will go on trial next Monday!”

“Gagnon claims there was a third party at thescene. I was just checkin’ to see who might’ve been there with astrong motive.”

“Good God, man, why would Constance Brownwant to kill the lady?”

“Mrs. Cardiff-Jones took her fiancé away fromher. She was furious.”

“But Gagnon claims he saw a man running off.”

“He could’ve been mistaken. I was neardark.”

“But we have the killer. I sent youout to find a motive, and you go looking for any motive except theone I asked for.”

“That’s just it, sir. Gagnon has nomotive.”

“He must have. He killed her. We’ve got aconstable as our witness. What more do you want?”

“A proper motive.”

“Well, that’s for the Crown prosecutor toworry about. Not us. We’ve done our duty.”

“But a smart lawyer will get Gagnon off.”

“I doubt even Marc Edwards can get aroundWilkie’s testimony. Anyway, I’m ordering you to stop investigating.Now. The case is complete. It’s in the hands of the courts. And ifyou continue to poke about, I’ll put you back to patrolling. Andyou’ll have the night-shift from now till kingdom come. Is thatunderstood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You may go. There’s a gentleman on SimcoeStreet who claims he is being blackmailed. I have the name andaddress here. Get on it right away.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cobb took the paper and left the office. Hewasn’t too disturbed by the Chief’s order for he had done all hecould to help Marc Edwards defend what he himself took to be aninnocent man. The only iron that was left in the fire was ItchyQuick, his snitch.

And that was a long shot.

***

For the next five days Marc spent mornings andafternoons pounding up and down the township roads in a effort toget the Reform vote out. It was not easy. Many of the farmersfeared the intimidation tactics executed by D’Arcy Rutherford andsanctioned by Humphrey Cardiff. Marc offered to act as guide andescort, an offer that was taken up by half a dozen voters. Stillothers declined to vote, citing the case of Gilles Gagnon: if LouisLaFontaine’s lieutenant was a murderer, then what kind of peoplewere these Quebecers? What did it say about Louis’ judgement? WhileRobert Baldwin’s championing of the French leader was persuasive inand of itself, it was not enough for some of the potential Reformsupporters. On Saturday, the final day of voting, the count stoodeven at two hundred and sixty votes for each candidate. Marc andothers were desperately combing the countryside for the votes thatwould give Louis the victory longed for by Baldwin’s Reformers.