“And the miller wasn’t pleased?”
“Not in the least. He kicked up a terriblefuss and the Baldwins had to threaten to break his lease unless hequit. That did the trick.”
“I bet it would.”
Cobb thanked Morrisey and headed up to theback porch. Through the netting he could see Mrs. Morrisey in thesummer kitchen. He rapped and walked in. The cook, a plump, amiablewoman with eyes as dark as blueberries, was sitting on a benchpeeling potatoes. Beside her, doing likewise, was Miss Partridge,the middle-aged housemaid. Cobb was not displeased to see themtogether, but he still wasn’t sure how he could approach thesubject of Uncle Seamus and the case for rape that was inexorablybuilding against him.
“Well, if it ain’t Mr. Cobb,” said Mrs.Morrisey with a big smile. “What brings a Toronto bobby way outhere on such a fine day?”
“Business, I’m afraid, Mrs. Morrisey. The sadbusiness of Betsy’s death.”
“I thought that’d been all settled at theinquest.”
“We’re lookin’ fer Elsie Trigger all right,but we’re also hopin’ to locate the father of the babe. Betsy wasunder age.”
“Then you oughta go lookin’ at the mill-handsand them families that live beside the Thurgoods. There’s half adozen fellas coulda done it to her before she come here at the endof July. Aren’t I right, Faye?”
Faye Partridge nodded. “She was safe once shegot here, but God knows what the wee dear thing had to putup with over there.”
“I been over there,” Cobb said, “but not asfar as the mill-houses.” He was hoping against hope, however, thathe would have to look there after his mission here turnedout to be without merit.
“Well, then, I’ll give you a cup of tea and abiscuit before you go all that way.”
“That’s kind of you, ma’am, but there is oneor two questions I’d like to ask before I go.”
“Go ahead. Faye, put the kettle on,please.”
Faye got up, complaining about her bad hip,and limped over to the stove. She had to stir the ashes to get thefire going, complaining yet again.
“I gotta ask this question, Mrs. Morrisey, soplease don’t take offence. If we’re gonna find out who the fatheris, we may haveta do it by elimination, as the culprit ain’t likelyto fall on my boots and confess.”
“You’re referrin’ to the men in thishousehold?” she said shrewdly.
“Not necessarily.”
“That’s poppycock!” Faye Partridge holleredover from the stove. “Nobody in this house would harm a hair onthat girl’s head.”
“The constable ain’t sayin’ that, Faye. Areya?”
“No, ma’am. But we know servants see and hearthings other people don’t think they do. You have lots of visitorshere. And it’s pretty well all over town that Mr. Seamus Baldwin’sbeen seen teasin’ and flirtin’ with the children – and thehousemaids.”
“He ain’t ever flirted with me!” cried MissPartridge, and her thin, homely face indicated that her denial mayhave been equally a complaint.
“Course not, sweet,” Mrs Morrisey soothed.“And there was nothin’ improper about the way he teased and had funwith Betsy and Edie.”
“It was mainly with that Edie, though!” MissPartridge slammed the kettle down on one of the stove-lids. “Thelittle minx.”
“Uncle Seamus is like a big kid much of thetime,” Mrs. Morrisey said. “He’s goin’ through his secondchildhood, in my opinion. But he’s also like an elderly uncle tothe girls. He helps them with their readin’ an’ writin’ – Dr.Baldwin always insists his staff get on with their schoolin’ here -and Uncle Seamus and Betsy read books together.”
“And he wasn’t above slippin’ ‘em pocketmoney or a pound or two fer their graspin’ families,” Faye snappedas she flung a handful of tea into a crockery pot. “Against theexpress wishes of Dr. Baldwin.”
“Now, now, Faye. Them families is all dirtpoor. Seth Whittle may be an easygoing boss, but he pays apittance.”
When asked whether they had seen anythinguntoward between Betsy and any male, they both shook theirheads. Cobb now mentioned that there had been an incident on Augustthe third. Mrs. Morrisey looked as if she readily understood whatkind of incident he was referring to. Faye looked merelypuzzled.
“Did you serve Mr. Seamus his luncheon onthat day?” Cobb said to Mrs. Morrisey. “I know it’s a while ago,but it’d help if you could recollect.” He mentioned the tornado tohelp her out.
“I usually do, and Faye here takes it up tohim.”
“I do recall,” the senior maid said, plunkingseveral tea-biscuits on a plate and still in her complaining mode.“I took him up a hot meat pie and the glass of claret he ordered inthe mornin’, but he wasn’t in his room or anywhere else I couldfind. A wasted effort all ‘round.”
Cobb was sure the old gent hadn’t beenanywhere near Spadina, but he felt obligated to test the waters foran alibi. It looked like the only thing that might get him off thehook.
“He probably went fishin’,” Mrs. Morriseysaid.
Cobb was beginning to get a more completepicture of Uncle Seamus, but it was not necessarily a clear one.The man had been a respectable lawyer for decades, had retired andbecome depressed, had pulled up stakes and moved to Upper Canada,where his childish proclivities were suddenly given full rein. Onone hand he played the fool and dallied with children, andespecially girls. On the other he played an avuncular role in thelives of the two young housemaids. He was giddy and solemn byturns. And his giddiness may have got him into serious trouble.
Cobb sipped his tea and nibbled his biscuit,while Mrs. Morrisey talked about flowers and contraband sweets andneighbourly doings. Cobb nodded politely, but he was thinking hardall the while.
***
In the main hall Cobb ran into Dr. Baldwin, lookingwan and trembly after his recent bout with lumbago. “Cobb,” hesmiled in greeting. “How nice to see you again. I don’t think Iever thanked you personally for the splendid work you did lastMarch out at Elmwood.”
Cobb and Marc Edwards had investigated amurder that had entangled members of the Reform party and had comeclose to compromising delicate political negotiations with LouisLaFontaine and the rouge party of Quebec. Cobb’s ingenuityhad materially helped in resolving the case.
“No need to do that, sir. Just doin’ myduty.”
“But doing it with imagination anddiligence.”
“Thank you. But I’m afraid I’ve come fer areason today that may be upsettin’ to the whole household.”
“Something to do with our dear Betsy?”
“’Fraid so. A man come to the police quartersthis mornin’ and swore he saw someone very like yer Uncle Seamusassaultin’ Betsy Thurgood in Seth Whittle’s barn last August thethird about twelve-thirty in the afternoon.”
Whatever he was thinking, Dr. Baldwin, anexperienced barrister, did not let it show. He let his breath outslowly, and then said, “That’s two months ago and a pretty precisetime and place, isn’t it? Why would a witness wait this long andstill be so certain? And you say he saw someone like mybrother?”
Lawyers, Cobb sighed: more concerned withwords than deeds. “It was the day after the tornado and the witnesswas called away that very afternoon and just got backyesterday.”
“I see. Well, the claim is either frivolousor malicious. I’m certain that Seamus will be able to recall hiswhereabouts. Everybody remembers the tornado and the fuss we had inthe days following. But if little Betsy was ravished by someone,then you have my word as a gentleman that I will do everythinghumanly possible to help you find the villain.”
“Well, sir, I’d like you to think back tothat Saturday yerself. Did you see Betsy after she come back fromdeliverin’ her dad’s lunch after noon?”
Dr. Baldwin thought about the matter for halfa minute before replying: “Why, yes, I did. Because she seemed ill.She’d only been with us a week as a permanent employee, and I wasvery concerned she might have picked up something serious after herarrival.”