Meanwhile, I am alone in the cold empty roomsof the house we lit with the warmth of our companionship. I feellike Ariadne on Naxos, abandoned and betrayed by the one sworn toprotect and love her always. And each letter from you does littleto propitiate and much to vex. So much so that I am sorry to reportthat my headaches have once again begun to torment me, and I feelthat there is no-one but you and your immediate return to Torontothat will give me a moment’s relief. If you cannot find it in yourheart to tell me the truth about your stay in Kingston, please donot bother to write at all. I prefer to suffer in silence.
Your loving and devoted twin,
Christine
“You see, Marc,” Christopher said when Marc hadfinished reading, “how she dismisses my role in politics here andrants against my fiancée.”
“What are these headaches? Nervoustension?”
“No, they’re serious setbacks she suffers.She retreats to her room and won’t let anyone but her personal maidcome near her. I’m really afraid for her well-being.”
“Well, the letter is extremely literate andquite rational, despite its sentiment. I’d say she is pulling outall the stops to get you back in Toronto.”
“You think I should not give in to her?”
“It’s not for me to say, but I really doubtif her health is in jeopardy. Try writing her a very personalletter. Recall your happy memories. Make the point that you areneeded here, but that it is only a matter of three or four weeksbefore you’ll be back. I think she is just looking for reassurance.If you can’t be present, then work on reassuring her by every othermeans. If you like, I’ll add a brief note on the work here. It maycarry more weight.”
“Thank you. That is good advice.”
“I hope it works,” Marc said. “We need youhere.”
And clear-headed if the alliance was tosucceed.
SEVEN
“It ain’t fair,” Cobb was saying to Dora aftersupper. He felt so put upon and irritated that he had broken acardinal rule of the Cobb household: not to talk shop. Cobb was notto burden Dora with the tawdry details of his daily patrols and shewas not to burden him with accounts of childbirth and its aftereffects in her role of midwife to the eastern half of town. “I wasonly on the job fer a few days. And I was gettin’ close, Iwas.”
“Life ain’t fair,” Dora said, as if thattruism settled the matter.
“It has to be one of the gentlemen at MadameLaFrances’s. But I been told not to bother the good madamagain.”
“You’re a fine patrolman, Mister Cobb. Youalways was. And who knows, you might catch the killer tonight.”
Cobb nodded. “The first two crimes were threedays apart, weren’t they?”
“You’re sure it’s the same person?”
“Positive. I got a gentleman’s glove and agentleman’s scarf found near each crime scene, a pair ofgentleman’s boots makin’ clear signs in the snow, and a fistful ofgentlemen at the brothel two blocks away. That’s enough ferme.”
“There are other brothels.”
“But Madame LaFrance’s is the only onecaterin’ to real gentlemen.”
“How long is Bagshaw gonna keep you onnight-patrol?”
“I’m afraid it might be till we catch thekiller.”
“Well, it sure is a nuisance havin’ youaround here all day tryin’ to sleep.”
“I’ll be sure and tell Bagshaw about yerobjection.”
***
Cobb met Wilkie and Rossiter, his fellow patrolmen,at the cathedral entrance to Devil’s Acre at eight o’clock thatnight. A light snow was falling on the gravestones in thecathedral’s cemetery, and Cobb shuddered under his turned-upcollar. Cobb told the others that he would take the west side ofthe maze, and suggested, as they had done the previous night, thatWilkie do the north-east and Rossiter the south-east. Cobb was notlooking forward to the night’s work. He felt that no murderer,however mad, would come out knowing that his territory was beingpoliced by three constables. And their presence was well known toresidents and visitors alike. The word had spread quickly, and onmore than one occasion an angry resident had left his businessestablishment to complain that his customers, respectable citizensall, were being frightened off by the police presence. MadameLaFrance had come out onto her stoop and shooed Wilkie away (he wasdozing on the lower step).
“We gotta tramp around here till sun-up,”Cobb said to his associates. “And it’s cold enough tonight thatwe’ll have to keep movin’ or freeze to death.”
With that advice Cobb walked into Devil’sacre and swung west. After two previous nights of wandering aroundnot knowing where he was, Cobb felt that he had finally figured outthe lay of the land. But if you didn’t stay alert, you could soonfind yourself coming up against a dead end or re-entering an alleyyou had just come out of. The snow made it even more difficult tosee the shape of buildings or the far end of an alley, and Cobbrealized that the killer would be able to carry out his crime andescape notice, despite the police. Throat-slashing was a silentbusiness and the snow would camouflage a getaway.
Cobb had been meandering for about an hour — his feet were already cold — when he thought he saw a shadow upahead, moving stealthily across in front of him. He ran towards itand skidded to a stop at the end of the alley. He looked left. Hesaw nothing. Without warning something heavy and grappling slammedinto him and knocked him over. He rolled to one side, expecting atany second to feel a knife-blade at his throat.
“Gotcha!” Wilkie cried, pouncing on Cobb ashe lay helpless on the ground.
“Fer Christ’s sake, it’s me you’ve caught.Get off!”
Wilkie rolled away. “I heard somethin’ comin’up behind me,” he said, breathless, “and so I ducked aside untilyou went by. I was sure you was the killer.”
“Well, I ain’t, and you’re patrollin’my territory!”
“It’s so easy to get turned around in here.I’m — I’m sorry.”
“And you’ve gone and got me all covered withsnow,” Cobb complained. “My balls are already frozen solid.”
“Maybe that madam would let us warm our toesfer a bit.”
Cobb brushed the snow off his greatcoat andtrousers. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said tonight,” hesaid.
They made their way, after missing severalturns, to the brothel, and Cobb gave the coded knock. MadameLaFrance answered.
“We was wonderin’ if we could warm ourselvesby yer fire,” Cobb said.
“You might as well,” Madame said with a sigh.“You’ve scared off most of my customers. I guess they’ll not comeback till you fellas have caught the killer. I might as well be ofsome help.”
“Thank you,” Cobb said.
They entered the parlour and made their wayto the roaring fire. The room was empty, of customers andgirls.
“We’ll just stay a minute,” Cobb said. “Untilour toes thaw out.”
“Can I get you something warm to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Just then Bartholomew Pugh and GardinerClough came down the stairs and stopped when they spotted theconstables. They turned and went back up the way they had come.
“I guess they ain’t worried about killers,”Wilkie observed.
“That’s because one of them might be akiller,” Cobb said. To Madame LaFrance, seated at the piano, hesaid, “Is the other one here as well?”