“She did say she give Epp money to keep himquiet about bein’ her cousin,” Cobb persisted. “May be she decidedto – ”
Sturges glowered at him, and then a bemused,slightly mocking look took hold of his expression. “You’resuggestin’ that the McDowells paid Epp to murder a man they knewnothin’ about on the off-chance he’d be caught an’ hanged – an’thus outta their hair?”
“Now, Sarge, there’s no need to bescar-castic.”
Sturges heaved a big sigh. “What’s done isdone, eh. Let’s just leave it till Marc gets back from New York.Why don’t you go an’ dictate yer notes to Gussie an’ then head backto yer patrol. The barkeeps’ll be sendin’ out a search party.”
As if responding to a cue, Augustus Frenchpopped his bantam rooster body into the doorway. His eyes were asround as a cockerel’s on the trod. “I got a message for ya, sir.Just hand-delivered by a giant fella called Hudson.” He passed asealed envelope across the desk to Sturges, then stood back,waiting.
“Thanks, Gussie.”
Crestfallen, Gussie back-pedalled out of theoffice.
Cobb said quickly, “That’d be MowbrayMcDowell’s bodyguard.”
Sturges sighed again, and looked wearily athis number one constable. “It didn’t take His Highness long tolodge a complaint,” he said, breaking the seal and removing athick, white sheet of notepaper. He read its contents aloud.
Chief Constable:
This is by way of a formal complaint againstConstable H. Cobb who, this very morning, entered my home on thepretext of reporting on the progress of a minor theft at St. James,and then proceeded to bully and badger my wife about somefantastical connection with the recent murder on King Street. Ifound the dear woman near tears when I arrived in the midst of hisunlawful, unwarranted and callous interrogation. I threw him out onhis ear. I trust that you will take appropriate disciplinary actionimmediately, and inform me in writing of its scope andconsequences. Further, I shall be speaking privately with SirGeorge Arthur at Government House this evening, and shall becompelled to broach the entire, disgraceful episode with HisExcellency.
I remain, yours truly,
Mowbray McDowell, Esq., MLA
Chief Sturges sat back in his chair. “Jesus,” hesaid. “Them’s the nastiest words I ever saw written in such fancyletters.” He looked up at Cobb, expecting to observe some evidenceof remorse or anxiety, however poorly feigned. But all he saw waspuzzlement.
“Lemme see that note, if I might, Sarge,” hesaid, reaching over and taking it from the chief.
“Ya don’t wanta read it again, do ya?”Sturges said. “It won’t get any sweeter.”
But Cobb was not listening. He was standingbeside the narrow window in the chief’s office, holding McDowell’sletter of complaint up to the light.
“What’re you lookin’ at?”
“An eagle holdin’ up an ‘M’.”
Sturges got up, took the paper from Cobb andraised it up to the light. “You’re right. This is the same kind ofnotepaper used by Epp in the murder. Brought in from New York, if Iremember.”
Cobb’s eyes were saucers. “Don’t ya see,chief. We got the bugger by the short hairs!”
Sturges put the note on the desk. “All wedone is find somebody who uses Melton bond-paper. There could be adozen or two dozen more bigwigs in town usin’ it – an’ writin’ realfancy on it. They teach ‘em to scribble like that in school.”
At this moment, though, nothing his chiefmight say could dampen Cobb’s excitement. “But we got a lot more,ain’t we? We got Reuben Epp sneakin’ over to tap his rich cousinfer booze money and a husband who don’t want his good namebesmirched just when he’s reached the top – an’ Reuben justhappenin’ to have this Melton paper to hand an’ somebody to writeon it fer him in curly-kewpie letters.”
“But the McDowells don’t even know Dougherty.Nobody does. He only come outta his cocoon in January. And ifthey’d been thinkin’ of killin’ anybody, it would’ve been Epp.”
“But I now got enough to go back over therean’ fire a few questions at that bugger, an’ even enough to get awarrant to tear the place apart. I’m sure we’ll find themwhatchamacallit pens and a stash of Yankee banknotes.”
“Hold yer horses, Cobb. You’ll get no warrantfrom a Tory magistrate like James Thorpe, honest as he is. You’vegot no motive. You can show him a connection between Epp an’ theMcDowells, but that’s all. The notepaper would be helpful if we hadsomethin’ else to tie it up with. But we don’t. You can’t askThorpe to believe that using Melton bond-paper is a crime or thatthey would plot the murder of a man they didn’t know an’ had noreason to kill.”
Cobb was stunned. He had expected his chiefto back him up all the way. Was something at play here that he wasmissing? “Okay,” he said carefully, “I c’n see yer point about thesearch warrant. But I got a right to go an’ ask McDowell, realtack-ful, whether he ever knew Dougherty, don’t I? An’whether he himself ever met Epp when he visited the missus, an’maybe got to know him a little?”
Sturges leaned on his desk with both fists.He looked up slowly. “If it was anybody else but Mowbray McDowell,I’d say yes – in a blink.”
Cobb couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re notafraid of the Governor, are ya?”
Sturges grinned ruefully. “We’re all afraidof the Governor, Cobb. But that ain’t what I’m sayin’ here. Youknow me better’n that. McDowell ain’t just any bigwig or Tory.Right now he’s seen as the leader of the party fightin’ againstLord Durham an’ this business of responsible government. If we gobargin’ in makin’ wild accusations against their chosen one,they’ll be labelled political, not legal. And we’ll be theones accused: of takin’ up with the Reformers an’ tryin’ tobring down a Tory leader fer our own gain. You’ve got to realize,ol’ chum, everythin’s political right now. We’re only thecity’s police, not the province’s. We gotta walk on eggshere or we’ll soon be nobody’s police.”
Cobb had sagged somewhat under the force, andlogic, of this speech, but he recovered sufficiently to ask, “Soyou’re sayin’ the investigation’s got to stop? I’m to stay clear ofthe McDowells?”
“That’s right. Unless you come up with moreevidence – without direct contact.”
“But we might only have a few more daysbefore the inquest is – ” Cobb stopped. Sturges was examining hisfingernails. “The inquest’s already on, ain’t it?”
“Yes, I’m sorry to say. I just got word thatthe coroner has set it fer ten o’clock Monday mornin’.”
“But that just gives me three days. An’ Marcwon’t be back till Saturd’y at the earliest.”
“I realize that. And I’m sorry. I really am.But there it is.”
Politics, Cobb thought, grinding histeeth.
***
Cobb was still seething when he reached Bay Streetand marched south towards Baldwin House. He definitely wanted asecond opinion. Robert Baldwin greeted him warmly, asked for newsabout the new baby, and sat the constable in a comfortable chairuntil some of the steam went out of his anger. Then he listenedrespectfully to Cobb’s tale of discovery, frustration and betrayal.And it was with considerable reluctance that he told Cobb he had toagree with Wilfrid Sturges, on both legal and expedient grounds.Legally, a warrant could not, and should not, be granted in thecircumstances. Practically, any forceful interrogation of MowbrayMcDowell, given the initial confrontation and its unfortunateaftermath, was bound to be seen as a form of intimidation promptedby supporters of the Reform cause and Lord Durham’s proposals, theconstabulary being adjudged de facto members of theleft-wing party.
Cobb gave Robert a curt thank-you and stompedout, grabbing a handful of macaroons from the bottomless bowl onRobert’s desk in order to calm his nerves. He now found himselfcompletely stymied. He was certain he had flushed out an accompliceto murder. But he had no motive, and now no means of discoveringone. It was possible that Marc would be back by late Saturday orearly Sunday. But even the major, with all his sophisticatedskills, would be able to do nothing. Once the inquest began onMonday morning, the investigation would be over. Period.