Don Gutteridge - Governing Passion

“He has,” Campion said. “But the thief musthave spotted him and kept away. Perhaps until last night.”

“The laths are here, so it’s likely Dunhamwas hiding behind them. But if Dunham had fallen asleep, the thiefwould just take his booty and slip off undetected, wouldn’t he?No-one kills for a pile of laths if he doesn’t have to.”

“I think you’re right. This was adeliberately planned murder.”

“Where were the tools left?” Marc asked.

“Over near the work on the far side of theroom.”

“So I assume the killer entered the door onthis side, saw the sleeping watchman, slipped over and picked up ahammer, then came across silently and did the deed.”

“And it doesn’t look as if he’s left anythingaround.”

Marc spent several minutes making sure, butthis side of the room was uncluttered, and the killer had leftnothing but his victim behind.

“I’d like to speak to the workman one byone,” Marc said, blowing on his hands. The room was heated by animprovised stove under the windows, but one had to be standing nextto it to receive its benefits.

“Fine with me,” Campion said.

“I’ll talk to them over where it’s a littlewarmer,” Marc said.

First up was Gregory Manson. He was a large,florid man who possibly drank too much.

“I understand you felt cheated when you werepassed over for the foreman’s job,” Marc began.

“That’s true, sir. But I didn’t kill him. Iwas home at midnight, in my bed.”

“And earlier you were at Bernie’s placedrinking?”

“And doin’ a little dice, we was. Marvin andme.”

Marvin Leroy was the other English-speakingworkman.

“And Jacques LeMieux was there as well?”

Manson frowned. “He come in later. He’dalready been into the booze somewheres. Bernie lets the Frenchiesin if they behave themselves. But they don’t usually come atall.”

“You don’t socialize with your Frenchcomrades?”

“You crazy! Them bunch of rebels andlayabouts? We only work with them because we got no choice.”

“And you heard LeMeiux make threats againstDunham?”

“Yes. And I told the magistrate straight offwhen he come here this mornin’.”

“What was the specific nature of thesethreats?”

“What did he say, ya mean? It was in Frenchand my French isn’t perfect. I can understand it mostly, but can’tspeak it.”

“So what did you hear, in French?”

“He said he was gonna get even with thatbastard Dunham if he lived to be a hundred. ‘I’ll get him, you’llsee!’ he kept sayin’ over and over. He was very drunk and slurrin’his words, but they were clear enough.”

“He did not use the word ‘kill’? -‘ tuer ’?”

Manson looked confused for a moment. “Not assuch, no. But his meaning was obvious, wasn’t it?”

Marc could hear the cross-examination in thetrial to come. He had no doubt that he could get LeMieux acquitted,but the damage could already have been done. Robert and Louis weremeeting two or three new potential members of the new Parliamenteach day and laying the groundwork for the upcoming alliance in theAssembly. Any perceived strains between French and English at thisstage could prove detrimental to these delicate negotiations.LeMieux’s arrest on purely circumstantial evidence certainly lentitself to misinterpretation by the French.

“Was it, though?” Marc said. “There are manyways to get even, aren’t there?”

“Not when you hate a man as much as LeMieuxdid Dunham,” Manson said stubbornly.

“He might have sabotaged the work project,eh?” Marc continued. “That might have got Dunham fired. Or perhapshe merely wished to give the fellow a good thrashing.”

“With his hammer?”

“Where were you after you left Bernie’s” Marcsaid abruptly.

“Leroy and me walked back to Kingston aboutmidnight. LeMieux was still in the dive. We went to our separateboarding-houses.”

“Did your landlady or landlord hear you comein?”

“She may have. She’s a light sleeper.”

“Dunham was killed sometime during the nightaccording to what the coroner told Mr. Campion. That leaves plentyof time for you to walk back out to the site and do the deedyourself.”

Manson laughed. “I didn’t have to, did I?Somebody did it for me.”

***

Marvin Leroy was a small man with bright red hairand freckles, and a livid scar the size of an earthworm on hisright cheek.

He was nervous and did not make eyecontact.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Mr. Leroy.I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“I had no reason to kill Mr. Dunham,” Leroysaid quickly.

“You liked the man?”

Leroy hesitated, then said, “No, I didn’tcare for him. He was a mean bugger. So I can’t say I’m sorry he’sdead.”

“You were in Bernie’s dive last night?”

“I was. With Greg Manson.”

“Did you hear Jacques LeMieux making threatsagainst Dunham?”

Again, some hesitation before the response.“I heard him mumbling to himself in French. But I don’t speakFrench at all. But he really sounded very angry.”

So, Marc thought, it was only Manson’stestimony so far as to the threats made by LeMieux. LeMieux himselfdidn’t remember much. Marc would have to go to Bernie’s and try tosort this out. Without the threats, the magistrate, beyond motive,had only the hammer, and that was thin evidence indeed.

“You didn’t hear the word ‘ tuer ’?”

“No, sir. If I did it went over my head. Gregan’ me walked home.”

“You went straight to your ownboarding-house?”

“Yes.”

“Did your landlady or landlord hear you comein?”

“My landlady usually does. I’m afraid I madequite a noise.”

“I’ll check it out. I want all the addressesof you men before I leave this morning.”

“I’ll help if I can.”

“That’s all for now,” Marc said, releasingthe man and wincing once again at the sight of that scar. Someone’sknife had sliced open that right cheek.

***

Michel Jardin looked as if he had a permanent chipon his shoulder. He slouched over to Marc, resentment andirritation writ large in his face.

“You were upset when Mr. Dunham fired yourbrother?” Marc began.

“So what?”

They were speaking in French but the contemptwas clear in any language.

“So it gives you a reason to dislike yourforeman.”

“I didn’t need a reason like that. I hatedhim after the first day on the job. He was a very cruel man.”

“In what way?”

“He looked down on us French. He gave us thedirtiest jobs. He chewed us out for no reason at all, alwaysworrying that we weren’t working fast enough. Anything to lick theass of his boss.”

“He was anti-French?”

“He was in the English militia in therebellion. He burned barns and killed cattle and scaredchildren.”

“But he was only doing his duty, surely,”Marc said lamely, remembering his own compunction aboutbarn-burning.

“He was an animal. An English bastard.”

Marc had been present for some of thereprisals taken after the rebellion in Lower Canada, and had knownthen, as now, how difficult it was going to be for the two racesand cultures to live side by side, let alone unite in a singlestate.

“Where were you last night, say, from nineo’clock onwards?”

“You think I killed Dunham?”

“Please answer the question.”

Jardin looked across at Bert Campionsupervising the work, as if his boss might relent and allow him tosay no to Marc’s questions. But the architect had been adamant inordering his men to cooperate with Marc.

“I got home from work at eight o’clock. I hadsupper at my boarding-house. I went for a long walk around teno’clock. When I got back everyone was asleep. No-one saw me untilmorning.”