Don Gutteridge - Bloody Relations

“That’s quite a story,” Marc said at last. “But what has it got to do with Lord Durham or me?”

Cobb and Sarge had decided not to reveal the identity of the accused until after Marc had had time to absorb the details of the crime, and Wilkie, of course, had no idea what was going on.

“You tell him,” Sarge sighed heavily. He motioned Gussie into the adjoining room and closed the door on him. “We’re keepin’ the fella’s name between us-fer the time bein’.”

“The guy we’re certain done it is Handford Ellice,” Cobb said, sotto voce.

“Sweet Jesus.” Marc was incredulous.

“There’s a cab out back,” Sarge said. “It’ll take you straight up to Government House.”

“I’ll go, of course,” Marc said. “But I still don’t see how I can be of much help. I’ve never met Handford Ellice and I’ve had barely a single conversation with His Lordship.”

Sarge cleared his throat. “When I broke the news to ’im an hour ago, he was flabbergasted. He claimed it were impossible that his nephew could do such an ’orrible thing.”

“Quite a natural reaction, I’d say.”

Cobb looked sorrowfully at Marc. “The poor fool thinks his nephew’s innocent. He won’t accept the facts we give him.”

“And?”

“He asked me, point-blank,” Sarge said warily, “if there was anybody in town who knew how to conduct a proper investigation.”

It was Marc’s turn to sigh. “And you suggested me.”

“No,” Cobb said. “I did.”

While Cobb went home to catch a few hours’ sleep, Marc was whisked up to Government House at the corner of King and Simcoe. He had spent a number of months here after his arrival three years ago as a newly commissioned officer in the 23rd, commanding the lieutenant-governor’s guard. He knew the grounds and the sprawling residence well. But it had been some time since he had been asked here on official business. The corporal at the door ushered him into Lieutenant-Governor Arthur’s office, where, to his surprise, he was suddenly alone and face-to-face with Lord Durham.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Durham said. Only the shadows under his eyes betrayed that he might have felt fatigued and perhaps even alarmed. The intelligent dark eyes and handsome, confident face met Marc’s gaze unflinchingly across the expansive desk. “Please, sit down. My own feet are a little weary after last evening’s pleasant exercise.”

“Thank you, sir. I came as soon as I heard, and it goes without saying that I will do all I can to be of service.”

Durham folded himself into a padded chair. Then, as Marc did likewise, Lord Melbourne’s envoy to the Canadas stared at some papers on the desk for a full minute. Marc waited patiently.

“Let me begin, Mr. Edwards, by saying that since your name was mentioned by the constable this morning, I have made discreet inquiries about you and your-exploits, shall we call them-here in the colonies.”

Marc felt himself colouring. “And you’ve learned that I have been a lifelong Tory, I daresay.”

Durham seemed amused despite the obvious stress he was suffering. “ Were a Tory is the word around here.”

“Ah. I suspect the reputation of my wife has preceded me.”

“Please, believe me, sir, when I say that I care little what politics you subscribe to. Your record of service as an officer and your conduct of several murder investigations are exemplary. I am confident, then, that should you agree to assist me in this sordid affair, you will serve without fear or favour.”

Marc nodded in mute acceptance of the compliment. “How do you think I may be of assistance? I believe the police have briefed you thoroughly on the events in Irishtown and your nephew’s unfortunate involvement.”

“They have done so, and I’d like you to assure them that I have no doubts about their integrity or their efforts. However, since I believe my wife’s nephew to be incapable of such a crime, I feel I must have a more thorough and perhaps dispassionate investigation by someone more. . experienced.”

Marc did not respond right away. He was searching Durham’s face for some hint of ambiguity in his last statement.

Durham gave Marc a wan smile. “You think I meant that you were somehow to find a route around the truth?” he inquired.

“Such an interpretation did occur to me, Your Lordship. With all due respect.”

“And I am pleased that you are so frank. We’ll need to be ruthlessly honest with each other if we are to get to the bottom of the matter.” He leaned across the desk as he must have done countless times in the cabinet room when he wished to hammer home a point to his less talented colleagues. “I want the truth, Mr. Edwards. And when you find it, I will be the first person to endorse it and make it public.”

“Then I will be pleased to help you, sir.”

Durham leaned back and took a deep breath. “Good. Now we can get down to business. I expect that you too have been fully briefed by the chief constable.”

“I have. Though I must admit that at first I was as shocked and baffled as you must have been when you arrived here this morning and found your nephew under house arrest. It can’t be more than ten or eleven hours since Beth and I watched Mr. Ellice enjoy himself at Spadina. That he could have got all the way from there to a brothel in Irishtown and committed a murder in so short a time seems incredible.”

“That was precisely my reaction.”

“Has Lady Durham been told?”

Durham sighed. “Governor Arthur has kindly driven out to break the news to her, accompanied by Dr. Withers.”

“But from Cobb’s report-and I can personally vouch for his honesty and impartiality-it is clear that somehow your nephew did reach the brothel around one o’clock. He was found there and brought directly here. And was examined there and again here by Dr. Withers.”

“I am not disputing the incontrovertible.”

“I realize that, sir. But so many of the facts appear to have only one interpretation.”

“You sound like the Duke of Wellington annunciating absolute truth.”

Marc risked a smile and got one back. “It was Cobb who found the knife in Mr. Ellice’s hand and him lying bloodied and asleep beside the corpse.”

“I know, and the house apparently impregnable to intruders with murder on their mind. But how many a man has thought his own home to be burglar-proof and paid the price?”

Marc thought for a moment before saying, “It is conceivable that any one of the other four women could have committed the murder or unbarred the door to allow an accomplice entry.”

“Exactly. There must be an alternative explanation. I need to know that these women have been properly questioned and assessed. If you can find no plausible motive as to why one of them should kill one of their own and are convinced of their veracity, then I will accept your word on it.”

It was Marc’s turn to take a deep breath. “It is an awesome responsibility that you are placing on my shoulders, sir.”

“I’ve been told they are very broad shoulders.”

At this point there came a discreet tap at the door and Sir George’s batman whisked in with a pot of hot coffee and biscuits.

Marc sipped gratefully at his coffee, thinking rapidly. “I believe I know how much Lady Durham must love her sister’s son, and how much hope she has allowed herself in regard to the benefits for him of this foreign journey, as well as the possible distractions it might cause for you in your work here. She spoke to me about Handford early last evening and later on confided in Mrs. Edwards.”

“And you are wondering if my certainty about Handford’s innocence is simply based on my loyalty to my wife and perhaps some intimate but misguided knowledge of the lad’s character?”