“Of which there is almost no chance, since she can’t be forced to testify against her husband.”
“Nevertheless, the story does continue. Stanhope, having been bled for money by one of the enemy, decides to take personal charge of Coltrane so that he can keep an eye on him till he’s hanged. If he did search Coltrane’s kit and effects for evidence implicating him in what is tantamount to treason, he missed finding Almeda’s letter in the Bible back there in Windsor. Perhaps Coltrane himself was surprised when it fell onto his desk during a quest for religious comfort. We can readily assume that, having it still in his possession, he found a secure place to hide it, among his books most likely. I surmise he made an exact copy of it and began to threaten the colonel again, who must have gone once more to his wife for corroboration. But this time he was being blackmailed not for cash but for favourable treatment at Chepstow. The kowtowing and coddling were obvious to anyone who went near the place.”
“The colonel must have been frantic with worry,” Marc said. “Not only was the grandest night of his life fast approaching-the Twelfth Night gala where he is to be decorated-but there was the constant threat of his being exposed as a cuckold or worse. Not to mention his only child is visiting the cozy chamber every day and spending an hour or more closeted with the villain. All the while he has to pretend that nothing is amiss, to grin and bear it. He forbids his wife to go near the cell, but it seems that Coltrane is enjoying the daughter more anyway.”
“Do you think the wife may have been jealous?”
“I considered that, Robert, but her demeanour this morning and the scrap of dialogue I overheard on Wednesday strongly suggest that she was primarily concerned for Patricia’s reputation and well-being.”
“Moving on, then, we come to Billy’s fateful decision to look the devil in the eye, right in his den. Billy visits Coltrane, they exchange views, argue, and Billy makes an ill-conceived threat to go public with a false account of the battle, in which Coltrane would appear as a coward and a cunning bastard. Coltrane bridles, challenges Billy to a duel, and the silly lad accepts.”
“Which brings us to the issue of how an imprisoned soldier can arrange a duel with pistols in the yard outside his cell.”
“One word will suffice.” Robert smiled. “Bostwick. We know that Bostwick and Stanhope have been associates for some time, and that the former was made the colonel’s adjutant, despite having a reputation as a heavy drinker. With or without Stanhope’s approval, Bostwick secures two duelling pistols and then acts as umpire and second for both men the next day.”
“It would help throw suspicion on the colonel,” Marc suggested, “if we could prove that he sanctioned the duel himself. We can show that he considered Billy his protégé and therefore hoped that the lad might be lucky enough to kill his enemy.”
“But Cobb will testify that the colonel arrived after the event, enraged at the proceedings.”
“A good piece of acting?”
“By the next evening, however, Bostwick is dismissed in disgrace.”
“So the colonel will claim. For all we know though, Bostwick might be holed up in some comfortable county inn sniffing French brandy. Cobb has his snitches out looking for the drunken lieutenant-thankfully, something he felt he was able to do for us without compromising his duty.”
“Excellent. But to continue: Billy is arrested, makes a public death threat against Coltrane, and is jailed. The rest of the story you know at first hand.”
Marc sighed. “I do, and we’ve been over the variables and possibilities several times.”
“What about Stanhope’s surprise visit the evening before the murder? Do you really think he planted the poison then?”
“It doesn’t matter for our defense, does it? The strategy is to throw plausible suspicion elsewhere and dilute the circumstantial evidence.”
“Well, I see you’ve been reading your Blackstone and Phillipps these past few months.” Robert was pleased and amused in equal portions. “You are quite right. It appears as if we’ll never be able to discover or prove who did it, and if Billy is acquitted, no one besides Sir George will care. Coltrane’s life was nasty, brutish, and short, to quote Hobbes.”
“Well, then, Bostwick is a prime candidate for suspicion, isn’t he? Perhaps acting on his commander’s orders, he pretends to leave in a huff, slips back in-he possesses a full ring of keys for Chepstow-and while Coltrane sleeps, puts strychnine into one of the two snuff boxes. Then he heads for cover. And the colonel plants the packet in Billy’s coat during the mêlée in the hall.”
“Very possible. But an even more likely candidate is the mysterious Mrs. Jones, the last visitor before you and Billy arrived. Shad, unfamiliar with the jailer’s job he has just been assigned, lets the woman get by him with no particular quizzing of who she is or why she’s there. And once in, she distracts Coltrane long enough to salt the snuff with coyote bait.”
“She would have needed a plausible excuse to obtain Coltrane’s permission and to lull him into a false sense of security. He was pompous but no fool.”
Robert agreed. “Which suggests she was working for the Hunters, not Bostwick.”
“Bearing a password or entry code of some sort.”
“His own people wishing him dead, as a martyr to the cause, so to speak?”
“With the added attraction of said martyr appearing to have been assassinated by an agent of the Queen.”
“You really must find a way to question Shad further-at the risk of being bayoneted by the colonel.” Robert pressed the remaining crumbs of macaroon onto his index finger and licked it contemplatively.
“They might also see Coltrane’s upcoming trial as a common murderer as a form of humiliation for the Lodges and a staged triumph for their arch-enemy, Sir George Arthur. Coltrane himself no doubt still expected to be rescued by his compatriots, so he would certainly agree to see one of his own.”
“But didn’t Shad tell you Mrs. Jones might have been there before?” Robert was flipping through the pages of notes that Marc had compiled so far.
“He seemed confused or flustered about the entire matter. Perhaps he was just trying to cover up for his own insecurity as jailer. Only he could clarify this for us or give us a more detailed description of exactly what happened. But my own ineptness earlier this morning seems to have foreclosed that option.”
“We could subpoena him, though. Or, as he’ll be a key witness for the Crown, Dougherty could get at this business on cross-examination. I’ll make a note of it.”
Marc took a deep breath. “I suppose, also, to be absolutely thorough, we have to consider Patricia.”
“Motive?”
“None, alas. Beth’s reading of Patricia is that she was besotted with Coltrane and devastated by his death.”
“You’ve done excellent sleuthing, Marc. I’ll finish writing up notes on our conversation here and take them over to Dougherty.”
“But I’m still putting my money on the colonel,” Marc said, not ready to leave this discussion just yet. “If he isn’t the killer, he’s mixed up in the murder in some way. And if anyone knows more about Stanhope’s possible involvement, it’s Bostwick. He may be crucial to our strategy of pointing the jury to alternative suspects.”
“Plus, if we could somehow unearth one or more of Almeda’s love letters to Coltrane, Dougherty would have a mother lode to mine in court.”
Marc rose, suddenly excited. “Well, Robert, I know where to start looking for them.”
“You do?”
“Detroit. The colonel no doubt rifled through Coltrane’s possessions before he shipped them off yesterday. But Coltrane was exceedingly clever, and the letter he brought with him to Chepstow was his very lifeline. I’m sure he hid it well enough to fool the likes of Stanhope. Moreover, if the colonel had found it after the murder, would he have been in such a rush to have the books and claptrap boxed and sent packing to Michigan? I’m convinced that he didn’t find it and wanted to make sure no one else in the province did.” When Robert made to object, Marc added, “It’s probable there are other love letters from Almeda in her cousin’s house.”