Don Gutteridge - Minor Corruption

“And the magistrate may see it the same waywe did,” Cobb added.

Thurgood’s sneer intensfied. “We’ll see aboutthat, won’t we? James Thorpe is a Tory and no friend of themReformers up at Spadina. And the Attorney-General is a Tory, too,and a powerful man. They may not find the Baldwins as threatenin’as you snivellin’ cowards do. So you can just waddle on up toSpadina and let them know I’m gonna see justice done. And they’llbe in the middle of it!”

The door slammed and rattled.

“He’ll cool off,” Sturges said, tippinggingerly back into a chair.

“I hope so,” Cobb said.

***

Cobb went over to Baldwin House to see Robert, butfound Marc instead. As Robert was not arrived yet, Cobb gave Marc asummary of his investigation and its conclusion.

“Well done, Cobb. You did all you could inthe matter. And unless Thurgood can come up with a witness whoactually saw Uncle Seamus seduce Betsy, he has no case against thepoor man. He’s near a nervous breakdown as a result of the girl’sdeath.”

“But Thurgood wasn’t happy with myconclusions, Major.”

“I feel sorry for the fellow, but facts arefacts, eh?”

Cobb paused, then said, “He swore he’s gonnatake his charge to James Thorpe and bring a civil suit.”

Marc was taken aback. “It’s like that, isit?”

“He’s as mad as a caged bull in matin’season.”

“Well, it not only takes evidence to bring acivil suit, it takes money. Thurgood has neither.”

“He seems to think some of the Family CompactTories might be interested in backin’ him. And you gotta admit, aBaldwin makes a temptin’ target.”

Marc sighed. “You may be right. I hadn’tthought of that. The Tories would like nothing better than toslander the Baldwin name before the new parliament opens and anelection is called.”

“Thurgood may not be able to read, but he’sgot a good head on his shoulders along with the elephant-sized chipalready there.”

“Perhaps he’ll cool down when he’s had achance to think things over.”

“Maybe so,” Cobb said, wishing he believedit.

***

When Robert arrived later in the afternoon, Marcbrought him up to date on the investigation. Robert was pleased tohear that his uncle had been believed.

“After Cobb left our place and Uncle wastucked away in his room,” Robert told Marc in his chamber, “I went‘round discreetly to my senior servants – Chalmers, Mr. and Mrs.Morrisey, and Miss Partridge – and asked them if they had, over thepast three months, seen any behaviour between Uncle Seamus andBetsy that could possibly be construed as improper. They were quiteaware that I expected nothing less than the truth. They reportedthat they had observed nothing untoward. Miss Partridge found histickling of Edie Barr personally offensive, but felt that it wasnot improper as Edie herself seemed to like it and responded to itsimply as childish fun. She had never seen Uncle Seamus do the samething to Betsy. Chalmers found Uncle’s ventriloquist act in poortaste, but reminded me that Betsy had only played the dummy once ortwice, and when it became clear she didn’t like the role, UncleSeamus had not asked her to repeat it. He said that Uncle Seamusdiscussed books with Betsy in the library and encouraged her to usethe library as her own. Mrs. Morrisey said she found therelationship between Uncle Seamus and Betsy to be akin tograndfather and granddaughter. It was his occasional flirting withEdie Barr that ‘got up her nose,’ to use her own words. And HerbMorrisey said that when outdoors, my uncle preferred always to bealone.”

“Well, that is good news,” Marc said, “all ofit. Thurgood is not only wrong but has no chance of getting hardevidence from those sources.”

Robert was startled. “Hard evidence forwhat?”

“I must tell you that Thurgood has threatenedto go to the magistrate to explore the possibility of bringing acivil suit against your uncle. He’s even threatened to get backingfrom our Tory opponents.”

Robert reached for a macaroon. “I’m sorry tohear that. You know as well as anybody that we cannot afford ascandal in the Baldwin family, however frivolous this charge mightbe.”

“The real question may be: how unscrupulousare those who would like to cripple our party before the nextelection?”

Robert looked grim. “The alliance between usand Louis LaFontaine wouldn’t survive a day if this were actuallyto be brought forward. Even a verdict of innocent might not clearthe air. Is there anything we can do to stop this nonsense?”

“Nothing. Except wait and hope that Thurgoodthinks better of his threats.”

Robert was tempted to tell Marc aboutThurgood’s extortion attempt, but did not. Matters had not got outof hand – yet.

***

A week went by and nothing more was heard fromBurton Thurgood. Whether he had actually approached MagistrateThorpe or tried, bless him, to obtain an interview with HumphreyCardiff, the Attorney-General, or any other Tory who would not walkacross the street to snub him, Marc did not know. But by the nextTuesday, he felt confident enough to advise Robert to go ahead witha shortened version of his political trek to London and the westerncounties. Uncle Seamus was still up and down, but slowly recoveringand stable enough to leave in the hands of Dr. Baldwin (despite thelatter’s recent attack of lumbago). Reluctantly Robert agree todepart, provided that an express messenger would be hired to seekhim out, should Uncle take a turn for the worse or, Heaven forfend,Thurgood should find some support for his suit among the numerousopponents of the Reform party.

Robert left on the Wednesday morning of thethird week in October. On Friday morning the bombshell burst.

***

Cobb had just stepped into police quarters to seehow Chief Sturges was doing (earlier that morning he had had to becarried from his rented buggy to his office) when he encountered astocky young man loitering in the anteroom.

“Lookin’ fer someone?” Cobb said.

“I’d like to see the chief of police, if youplease, sir.” The fellow, who looked all of twenty, wasbare-cheeked and beardless, with round, innocent eyes. He wore aworkman’s cap and a smock. From the wheat-dust on his clothing,Cobb took him for a mill-hand.

“The Chief ain’t too well this mornin’. WillI do?”

“Is there somewhere we can talk, privatelike?”

“You got a complaint to make?”

“I think so.” Despite his burly body and fullface, the lad spoke with a soft, diffident voice, as if speakingtoo forcefully might a damage the furniture.

“We’ll go into the constables’ room,then.”

Inside, where the corner stove was still warmand the sun slanted in through the east window, Cobb sat thevisitor down at the square table and then sat opposite him.

“Well, son, let’s have it.”

The fellow cleared his throat. “My name’sJake Broom,” he began, almost apologetically. “I work out atWhittle’s mill on Trout Creek.”

The hair on Cobb’s neck began to rise, and heswallowed hard. Not more of this tomfoolery, he thought.

“At least I did until last August thethird.”

“You quit?”

“Not actually. I got word that my father wasdyin’ down in Port Talbot. I asked Mr. Whittle fer a few days leaveand he said all right, so I left the next mornin’.” He blushed andadded, “I just got back yesterday.”

“More than a few days, I’d say,” Cobb said,glancing at the detritus on Broom’s sleeves.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Whittle’s taken me back eventhough I was gone fer two months. I’m workin’ there again.”

“Sounds logical to me.” Cobb was relaxedagain. Whatever the complaint was, and it might be a while beforehe heard it, it couldn’t have anything to do with Thurgood or poorBetsy.