“I’ll see him, Chalmers. Show him intothe little den.”
Burton Thurgood was shown into the den, whereRobert was waiting. He was clutching his cap as if Chalmers hadthreatened to steal it. His smock was dusty white from his work inthe grist mill. Robert motioned him to a chair, but the manhesitated, uncertain.
“Go ahead and sit, Mr. Thurgood. It’s aleather chair. It can be dusted readily.”
“Thank you, sir.” He sat down gingerly on theedge of the seat, cap in hand, dipped his chin to his chest, andpeered up from under his thick brows. Robert could see the chaff orflour-specks in his heavy black curls. This submissive postureseemed to Robert to be out of character for the Burton Thurgood hehad heard about over the years. While neither tall nor burly, hegave the appearance of coiled strength, of muscle ready to be putto whatever use demanded of it. His employer, Seth Whittle, oftendescribed him as surly, “with a chip on his shoulder as big as amill-wheel,” and swore he kept him on only because he was atireless worker who complained only after the job was done. And itwas always done right.
Robert simply waited for the fellow tobegin.
With only the tips of his eyes showing andhis cap twisting in his fingers, Thurgood said, “I’ll get straightto the point, sir. I know yer time is valuable, and Mr. Whittleonly give me thirty minutes to walk up here and back.”
“No need to hurry,” Robert said politely. Hehad enormous sympathy for the man, having himself suffered thesudden death of a beloved one, his Elizabeth, and ever afterrevisiting that horror whenever he attended the funeral of anotheror looked into the grief on another’s face. Nor had he anyinclination to play the country squire.
“I wanta thank you and yer dad fer the extramoney. That was awful kind.”
“We thought a great deal of your daughter.Our whole household is in mourning. We will miss her verymuch.”
“Auleen and me are on our own, ya see. My twoeldest’ve left home fer good. I don’t even know where theyare.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry to say what I haveta say,sir.” Thurgood now looked up fully for the first time. A kind ofcunning or determination had replaced the fawning posture. Hisfingers gripped his cap but did not fiddle with it.
“Oh? Is something wrong?”
“’Fraid so. You see, when our Betsy laydyin’, her ma begged her to tell us who the fella was that got herin the family way. Ya see, to our mind, that person was responsiblefer the horrible state she’d gotten into. We wanted to do herjustice, like.”
“And you were right to think so,” Robertsaid, believing now that Thurgood, penniless, had come to him forlegal advice. “Betsy was a minor. Whoever corrupted her was guiltyof rape under the law. And morally, of course, he was also party toher death at the hands of that terrible woman. Is there any way Ican help?”
“I hope so. That’s why I’m here.” He glanceddown, apparently abashed, but looked up quickly to catch Robert’sresponse.
“You say your wife asked the girl for theman’s name. I’m assuming she gave you some sort of answer.”
“That she did.” Thurgood cleared his throatand stared at Robert. “She told us with her dyin’ breath it was Mr.Seamus Baldwin.”
Robert rocked back in his chair, then staredsternly at the mill-hand. “You must have misheard. That notion ispreposterous.”
Thurgood didn’t flinch. “I’d’ve thought sotoo. But we gotta take a dyin’ person’s last words as gospel, don’twe? You’re a lawyer. You know that.”
“But Mrs. Cobb testified that Betsy wasalmost in a coma she was so delirious with pain and fever. And youand Auleen were distraught. How can you be sure what she said orwhat she heard?”
Thurgood almost smirked. “Like I said, you’rethe lawyer, ain’t ya!”
Against his better judgement, Robert bridledat the insinuation. “I’m not playing a lawyer’s trick, sir. Youhave just accused my uncle of seducing your daughter, getting herpregnant, and indirectly causing her death. I’m asking you how youcan be sure of what you heard – plain and simple.”
A sly smile crept across Thurgood’sweather-roughened features, worthy of the best defense attorney.“We got a witness. An unimpeccable witness.”
Despite his growing anger, Robert now sawwhat Thurgood had been leading him towards. “Mrs. Cobb was there,”he said quietly.
“She was. And she heard the name. And shediscussed it with us.”
“But neither you, your wife nor Mrs. Cobbmentioned this incredible fact at the inquest.”
“We wasn’t asked, was we? And I figure Mrs.Cobb, bein’ friendly-like with you people, decided to let sleepin’dogs lie. But she heard the name all right.”
“You’re probably right about her motive,considering the absurdity of the claim. But there was no reasonwhy, if you actually put credence in poor Betsy’s words, youyourself should not have informed the coroner, or the police. Onthe other hand, without more evidence than the girl’s statement,you had no chance of doing anything other than slandering arespectable gentleman’s name.”
“You’re forgettin’ the five-pound note to payfer gettin’ rid of his babe. The likes of me never got within abarge-pole of bills like that.”
“But Betsy took the lunch Mrs. Morrisey madedown to you at the mill every noon hour from Monday to Saturday,”Robert said, his mood swinging between anger and pity for thissuffering, aggrieved father who was merely lashing out at the worldfor its unalterable injustices. There was also a frisson of anxietypricking away somewhere inside him. “There were young mill-handsall about.”
“She left it with me in the office – everytime! And went on her way!” Thurgood’s eyes widened and his facegrew redder. “She wasn’t the kind of girl to dally with lads orlecherous mill-hands!”
“I know, I know, Mr. Thurgood. Try to calmyourself. You’re upset. Your precious girl is dead. And you and Iknow she was essentially a good girl. But someone got her pregnant,by seduction or rape. She died an innocent. And I’d like to seeElsie Trigger swing from a gibbet.. But I can assure you that myUncle Seamus was not a man to seduce young housemaids. And rightnow he is too ill for me even to relay your preposterous claim tohim so that he might deny it. After which, of course, your casewill be closed.”
During Robert’s heated reply, Thurgood hadgrown eerily calm. His own reply was delivered with cold menace.“There’s no need for you to disturb Mr. Baldwin. I didn’t come hereto upset yer family. But I think you oughta sit and listen to why Idid come.”
All of Robert’s sympathy died instantly. Hewas pretty certain of what was to come. “Go ahead,” he saidicily.
“Ya see, I got no kids left at home. Tim runoff to get married last summer. And we ain’t seen hide nor hair ofLoretta since she left years ago. We was countin’ on Betsy bein’the prop and comfort of our old age. Here she was but fifteen andearnin’ five shillin’s a week. We figure she would’ve workedanother four or five years before gettin’ married and providin’ uswith grandsons. Now we got nothin’. No kids and no money.”
Robert sighed and tried to remain calm. “Soyou expect Dr. Baldwin to keep on paying Betsy’s monthly wage forthe next four or five years, in exchange for which you will promisenot to blacken my uncle’s name all over Toronto and beyond?”
“I ain’t made any threats!” Thurgood cried,giving his cap a sharp tug. “I’m not a blackmailer. I’ve just cometo talk to you man to man. And to get some justice fer my dear deadgirl.” All the implied threat had vanished from his voice andmanner, replaced immediately by a pitiable abjection and severalhard-won tears. “I’m only a poor mill-hand.” Once again the eyesdropped and the cap twitched.
“So, in your view we would merely beexchanging courtesies. A clever ploy, I must say, to avoid outrightextortion. But there is a threat in it, sir, and I do not acquiesceto threat. I will arrange for a suitable one-time gift oftwenty-five dollars because I did care for your daughter andrespected her character, and because, despite your churlish andfoolhardy behaviour in coming here with this nonsense today, Istill feel deeply sorry for you and your wife. Now please leave,and do not return.”