Bagshaw paused before saying, “I see. But youdon’t know whether his lost glove, if he did lose one, matches theone you found?”
“I’d like to find that out, sir, by goin’ tohim and askin’ him about it. I’d like him to show me the left-handglove he didn’t lose.”
“Well, then, we’ll do it my way, Cobb — theproper way. I’ll send a message to his home that we would like tointerview him, at his convenience.”
“We?”
“Yes, Cobb. I’m going to do theinterviewing, to show you how to interrogate a gentleman. You’llcome along and observe closely everything I do. I’m assuming you’recapable of learning.”
“Just as long as we get at the truth, sir,”Cobb said, not a little upset at the rough treatment his detectinghad received. He took the opportunity, though, to tell Bagshawabout his visit with John Kray.
“Now that’s a more likely candidate formurderer,” was Bagshaw’s only comment.
***
Bartholomew Pugh sent back word that he would bepleased to meet with the chief of police at four o’clock thefollowing day. Cobb, with no discernible detecting to do, was sentback on his day-patrol until a half-hour before the appointment. Hejoined Bagshaw at the police quarters just after three-thirty, andthey walked together down to Front Street and over towards Brock,where the Pugh residence, a substantial brick structure, stoodstaring out at the snow-covered bay.
They were greeted by a butler who knew agentleman when he spotted one, and was not fooled by Bagshaw’sgentlemanly clothes. With a series of curt nods he showed them intoa study where Pugh, portly and flushed, sat smoking a pipe andsipping at a snifter of brandy. He stood partway up and motionedthe policemen to take a chair. He did not offer them drinks.
“That will be all, Smithers,” he said to thebutler, who looked as if he did not wish to leave his master in theroom with the visitors. “Now, sir, what can I do for you,” he saidto Bagshaw.
“As you know, I’m Cyril Bagshaw, chiefconstable, and this man you’ve already met,” Bagshaw said.
Pugh glanced narrowly at Cobb. “We have,under regrettable circumstances.”
“I do apologize again, sir, for theunforgivable behaviour of Mr. Cobb. But he’s new at this game,that’s all I can say on his behalf. And I take it you have arrangedfor us to arrive at a — a private moment.”
Pugh smiled conspiratorially. “My good wifeis out shopping,” he said, man to man. “There’s no need for her toknow anything about Madame LaFrance’s, is there? She’s of adelicate nature.”
“Not at all, sir. We’re most happy to obligeyou.”
“And I’ll oblige you, if I can. What is ityou need to know that Mr. Cobb didn’t discover two nights ago?”
“Well, sir, one of the inmates of the houseof pleasure told Cobb that you inquired about a lost glove.”
Pugh sat back and adjusted his belly. “I see.So you are wondering why I denied losing a glove.”
“Something like that,” Bagshaw said.
“Well, there’s an obvious explanation, isn’tthere?”
“And what might that be?”
“The girl is lying, isn’t she?”
“That had occurred to me,” Bagshaw saidquickly.
“After all, sir, the woman is a whore. Andwould you accept the word of a whore over that of a respectablecitizen?”
“Of course not. So this glove we found nearthe crime scene is not yours?” Bagshaw said, holding out the glovehe had taken from Cobb.
“I’ve never seen it before in my life,” Pughsaid.
“Then you have cleared up the point nicely,sir. Thank you for your generous cooperation.”
The policemen got up, Cobb seething butsilent. Smithers directed them to the door. Outside, Bagshaw said,“Now that is how to conduct an interview with a gentleman, Cobb.And how we get at the truth. Now you know you’ll have to lookelsewhere for the owner of said glove.”
“What about Pugh’s obsession with SallyButts?” Cobb said.
“She was practically a whore,” Bagshaw saidsharply. “Why would a gentleman treat her as anything other?”
Cobb seethed all the way to the policequarters, but no more was said about Bagshaw’s lesson ininterrogation.
In the office, Bagshaw had some furtheradvice for his apprentice. “Now, Cobb, if I were you, I’d be busygetting more evidence against John Kray, a real suspect in thiscase. Get a warrant and search that house of his for a pair ofboots and a missing glove. And a skinning knife.”
At this point they were interrupted by thearrival of Ewan Wilkie, looking pale around the gills.
“What is it, Wilkie?” Cobb said. “What’shappened?”
“We’ve got another body. In an alley near thebrothel.”
“When was it found?” Bagsahw said.
“Just now, sir. It’s a girl. But she wasmurdered sometime last night. The body was stiff and cold.”
So much for Mr. Kray, Cobb thought.
FOUR
Marc Edwards finished his breakfast and headed forthe meeting-room, in actuality a private dining-room of theClarendon Hotel, where he was staying here in Kingston with hisassociates, Robert Baldwin and Francis Hincks. Louis LaFontaine wasscheduled to join them this morning, walking down from the inn onBrock Street, where the French delegation from Quebec was residing.Marc had been in Kingston for the last three days, having beensummoned here by Robert to assist him and Hincks with theircorrespondence and policy discussions. The principal topic was, ofcourse, the alliance being forged between the moderate Reformers ofUpper Canada (now Canada West) and the moderate French rougeparty of Lower Canada (now Canada East). The union of the twoprovinces was now a proclaimed reality. Governor Poulett Thomson,Lord Sydenham, had made it official in February of this year, 1841.Elections across both sections of the new Province of Canada werescheduled for April, the resulting Parliament to meet in the newlydesignated capital of Kingston.
Most of the discussions thus far had focussedon a riding by riding analysis of the prospects of variouscandidates who would be sympathetic to the alliance cause and whostood a chance of being elected. A number of nominations were stillup for grabs, and both Robert Baldwin and Louis LaFontaine werehappy to use their influence to ensure favourable selections. Thisin turn generated a lot of letter-writing, and so Marc had beencalled in to assist Hincks and, occasionally, the French team (asMarc’s French was exceptional). Marc was also available as atranslator or interpreter, although Louis himself spoke passableEnglish and understood even more.
Robert and Hincks were waiting for Marc,having risen earlier and taken breakfast in their rooms. Marc knewhe should be thinking about the upcoming discussion, but his mindwas upon his wife Beth and their two children, Maggie and MarcusJunior. He hated leaving them behind in Toronto, and he realizednow that he would be needed here for weeks, not days. Little Marcuswas almost one and was starting to crawl all over Briar Cottage.And his babble-talk was approaching speech of some kind. But dutycalled, and Marc had rarely been able to resist its demands.Perhaps it was his years as an army officer. More probably it wasdue to his profound belief that the future of the new Canada lay inthe achievement of a responsible form of government in which theexecutive was fully accountable to the elected LegislativeAssembly.
“Good morning, Marc,” Robert said, wavingMarc to a seat at the table in the middle of the room. “We just gothere ourselves. We’re expecting Louis shortly.”
“Louis is bringing us the latest news on thestatus of our alliance,” Hincks said with his usual enthusiasticgrin.
In contrast to Hincks, Robert Baldwin was anordinary looking man, one who did not command the attention of aroom until he spoke. And even then his voice was soft and rarelyraised in anger or enthusiasm. He was now in his mid-thirties andof medium height and build. His most arresting feature was hisbold, intelligent eyes under their dark, almost brooding brows.Hincks was a fair-haired Irishman with regular features and a readysmile to accompany his forceful manner of speech and his readywit.