“There is one positive side to all of this,though.”
“I don’t see none.”
“Here is a persuasive case as to why theToronto constabulary needs the services of an experienced anddedicated investigator. The only way to work out of this mess, fromthe standpoint of the town council, is to show that the police areunbiased, objective and politically neutral. We’ll get the facts,and they alone will determine justice in this case.”
Cobb realized that the Chief was telling himthat the future of the force as he envisioned it lay in thisconstable’s hands. He would be given charge of the case and, exceptthat he would not be in plain clothes, he would be a defacto detective. The new breed. Moreover, as they both knew,not only would Cobb not have access to support and advice from MarcEdwards, Marc might well be pitted against him, as the Major’spersonal loyalty to the Baldwins and his unwavering commitment tothe Reform cause were never in doubt.
“So how do we go about gettin’ the truefacts?” he said to the Chief.
“Get yerself out to the mill. Question allthe hands. Someone must have seen a man with puffy white hairskulkin’ about the place. See if any of them young bucks atWhittle’s had anythin’ to do with young Betsy. If the rapist wasn’tSeamus Baldwin – and we gotta keep an open mind on this, despitethe sincerity of Jake Broom – then it was one them mill-hands. Forall we know, Broom might’ve been tricked by the light or simplypanicked and thought he saw a puff of white hair. You’llneed to look over the scene real careful. Find out where everybodywas just past noon on that day.”
“But that was two months ago!”
“Ah, but the day before there was a tornadothat tore through the bush and a big wind that blew in windows andknocked down trees. They’ll remember, all right.”
“They’d better.”
“For the moment, though, there’s no need togo back to Spadina. If you feel you haveta go, it’d nice to havesome further evidence to take with you.”
“I’ll need to quiz the servants about UncleSeamus, as they call him. If Betsy and him were makin’ eyesat each other, they somebody would’ve seen it.”
“But will they tell us, eh? You’ll need allyer skills on this one, Cobb.”
And the constable’s notorious tact.
SEVEN
Cobb began right away. At the Chief’s suggestion herented a horse and buggy from Frank’s livery, and headed up BrockStreet to the Spadina road. Although Jake Broom had been warned notto say a word about his statement and had assured them that he hadtold no-one except the police about what he had seen, Sturges urgedCobb to try and reach the mill before the young mill-hand did. Cobbgot lucky. A quarter-mile from the cut-off to the mill, he spottedBroom in the bush at the side of the road, taking a leak. Hehurried on by. Ten minutes later he drew up in front of the milloffice. A local farmer had just unloaded a wagonful of Indian corn,and roared past him in a flurry of hooves.
“Good day to you, too,” Cobb said, jumpingdown.
Seth Whittle, the miller, was standing in theoffice doorway. He stepped out to greet Cobb, a worried look on hisface. “Young Broom ain’t in trouble, is he?” he said.
“Not at all, sir. He come to the police withinformation about an incident that took place here last August. Myname’s Cobb, and I been asked to investigate.”
“I’m Seth Whittle.” He held out a large,calloused hand that seemed at odds with his otherwise plump, almostflabby, body. He was fair-skinned and sunburnt with thinningreddish hair.
“I’ll need to talk to you and then the restof yer crew who were workin’ here last August the third.”
Whittle whistled through a gap in his teeth:“That’s some while back Only thing I remember about that time was abig wind, some say a tornado, that come blowin’ through here todamage one of the sluices on my weir.”
“Yer milldam?”
“Yup. And, now I recall, the very nextmornin’ old Dennis Johns come in here drunk and tipped a whole loadof wheat on the ground over there. Injured his horse in thebargain. Survived himself by landin’ on his thick skull.”
“Then it oughta be easy fer you to recollectsome other things that day.”
“You said there’d been an incident?”
“Accordin’ to a sworn statement just made byJake Broom to the police, Betsy Thurgood was raped in a stall inthat there barn. Just after noon hour on August the third.”
“That ain’t possible.”
“Maybe so. But that’s what I been ordered tofind out.”
“Nobody in my crew would’ve done somethin’like that to little Betsy. She was our pet. We all adored her.We’re all still wearin’ black, as you can see.”
Cobb noted the black armband.
“Must’ve been some stranger hidin’ out there.But I still don’t think it could’ve happened here.”
“If you’d let me use yer office, I’d be muchobliged.”
“Certainly.”
Whittle looked genuinely upset, but whetherit was grief, guilt or fear Cobb could not tell.
***
Cobb settled himself down behind the miller’s desk.He told Whittle to inform each of his men – Joe Mullins, Sol Cliftand Burton Thurgood – that they were to be questioned one at atime. Whittle was not to forewarn them, and following hisinterrogation, each man was to remain in the office and keep quiet.Cobb didn’t want them fabricating a joint story. As instructed,Whittle returned from this task, looking very anxious. He sat downacross from Cobb, obviously uncomfortable in the unfamiliar andless authoritative chair. Cobb silently congratulated himself.
“Let’s begin, sir, with you tellin’ me aboutthis lunch-hour business.”
“Well, Betsy’d worked on special occasions upat Spadina since she was twelve. She’d become a favourite up there,and whenever she did work, Mrs. Morrisey, the cook, made Burton aspecial lunch and Betsy was allowed to bring it down here.”
“When did she start permanent up there?”
“About a week before the day we’re talkin’about. Then she come here regular, every noon.”
“Okay. Now tell me what went on here -startin’ with Betsy’s arrival.”
Whittle tweaked his right ear nervously, asif it might jar his memory. “That’s a while ago, but I rememberbecause of the spill and the fuss in the forenoon and the fact thatBetsy didn’t bring her father’s food here fer three or four daysafter that. When she did come back, she just said she’d been sick.I never dreamed – ”
“Did she seem her usual self then?”
“Well now, as far as I could tell, yes. Wealways teased her a bit about workin’ fer the swells up at Spadinaand she always had a shy little laugh.”
“On the third, a Saturday, who all was inthis room havin’ their eats?”
“All of us. The usual bunch, that is: me,Burton, Sol, Joe and Jake. I recollect because it took all five ofus to clean up old Dennis’s mess. I got blisters on my blistersthat day.”
“How long did Betsy stay?”
“I couldn’t swear to it after all this time,but she never stayed more’n ten minutes. And she always arrivedright on the strike of twelve. There’s a path through the woodsfrom here all the way through to Spadina.”
“I see. And you lease this mill property fromthe Baldwins?”
“I do. They own all the land hereabouts. ButI got a fifty-year lease. That’ll see me out.”
“And they own Trout Creek as well?”
A faint blush reddened Whittle’s cheeksbetween the freckles, and his round, friendly eyes narrowedslightly. “Every drop of water and blade of grass.”
“So let’s say, then, that Betsy arrives atnoon and leaves at ten after twelve.” Cobb jotted the time down inhis notebook. “Did you see her cross the road and head into thebush – direct?”
Whittle paused to think this over. “I don’tbelieve she did. But Sol Clift might be able to help you there. Hemade some remark about it, I think. But I can’t rememberexactly.”
“So all five of you were here when she left,and you stayed to finish yer eats. How long did that take?”