Cobb headed for The Cock and Bull.
TWENTY FOUR
In fact, it was early Saturday evening when Marc andBrodie stepped onto the Queen’s Wharf and hailed the lone taxicablurking nearby. They had saved a full day on the return trip bygetting off the Erie Canal at Rochester and, by chance, catching asteamer crossing the lake to Cobourg, Lake Ontario now being freeof ice and its maritime activity fully restored. At Cobourg theyhad picked up the mail-packet to Toronto. They arrived there verymuch tired, but buoyed by what they had unearthed in New YorkCity.
First thing the precious Wednesday morning,after the tumultuous events and disclosures of their evening at TheBowery Theatre, Marc and Brodie had gone to Eliza’s shop, caughther in a state of elegant undress, and prevailed upon her to pullseveral dusty ledgers off a nearby shelf. In which they found theevidence they needed to confirm Marc’s suspicions. Mowbray McDowellhad indeed made regular visits to New York City during the firstyear or so that Adams-Dewart-Smythe had been in business – that is,in late-1836 and throughout 1837. Eliza said that he came every twomonths or so, winter and summer, and stayed for up to two weeks,during which time he visited her shop on several occasions onfamily business (selecting wines and spirits) as well as forpersonal pleasure (he enjoyed Eliza’s lively conversation). A checkof the invoices revealed that he had been in New York during thecritical weeks in late November when Richard Dougherty had beenundone. He had also been present earlier that fall when the“incident” had taken place at the Manhattan Gentlemen’s Club, theone that had prompted Dick to initiate the inquiry that ruined him.Equally interesting was the fact that McDowell’s business trips toNew York had abruptly stopped. Eliza had not seen or heard of himsince November of 1837.
“But this could still be a series ofcoincidences,” Brodie had pointed out as they headed back to TheBowery Theatre to let Annemarie Thedford know what they had foundand to say their farewells.
“It might have been, except for a royal snubI received.”
“A snub?”
“Yes. On the Saturday evening before Dick’sdeath, he and I attended a sitting of the Legislative Assembly tohear Mowbray McDowell deliver his maiden speech. Dick fell soundasleep and missed the whole thing.”
“But even though he didn’t see McDowell,surely the name would have rung a bell, since Uncle wrote it downon that list your mother showed us,” said Brodie.
“Perhaps. But remember that those names weresupplied to him by his boy-informants. The local ones he certainlywould have recognized. But many of the names would have been thoseof outsiders – friends or business associates of the members – fromout of town or out of state or out of the country, like McDowell.At the time these would merely have been names to Dick, withoutfaces or pedigrees. He might have learned more about them had hehad more time, but he wasn’t allowed that luxury. Moreover, morethan a year had passed since those traumatic events. Dick had spentmost of that time drinking and gourmandizing. But it is possiblethat, given his renewed interest in life and public affairs, hemight eventually have recalled where he had first heard McDowell’sname.”
“I see. But what has all this got to do witha snub?”
“As we were navigating our way through thecrowd in the lobby of the parliament, I left Dick for a moment toapproach and congratulate McDowell on his speech. He had justemerged from the members’ lounge, and I was sure he saw me comingover with a smile on my face. He appeared about to acknowledge me -I believe I had been identified to him as a war hero – when withoutexplanation he wheeled about and fled back into the lounge.”
“You think now that McDowell spotted Unclesomewhere behind you?”
“I do. It’s the only plausible interpretationof the event.”
“But that means that McDowell figured Unclemight recognize him, or already had. And that means – ”
“That he thought Dick must have seen him inthe brothel or, more likely, had uncovered his name during hisinvestigation and was about to put a face to it.”
“Yes. McDowell’s friends in Tammany Hallwould have given him the details of Uncle’s efforts to unmask thepedophiles. Eliza told us he was definitely here in November of’37.”
“Exactly. So you can imagine McDowell’ssurprise at spotting Dick across the room from him. Remember thatMcDowell had just arrived in Toronto, his wife having come inOctober to set up house. McDowell is a Kingston man. He may neverhave set foot in Toronto before.”
“But he must have heard about the McNairtrial and Uncle’s role in it?”
“Possibly. But I think not. He was no doubtpreoccupied with winding up his father’s estate. And what he sawthere in the foyer, just before he snubbed me, truly shocked andfrightened him.”
“I see.”
“Remember too that he seems to have suddenlystopped going to New York. A year goes by, and he hears no word orthreat from that quarter. His Tammany pals have done their workwell, eh? Then, without warning, Dick Dougherty, larger than life,pops up not twenty feet from him.”
“That would certainly give any man a motiveto silence him, but especially one being lionized by thepowers-that-be and presented to the public as their saviour.”
“I’m sure we’ve got our man, Brodie. Butwe’re still some ways from demonstrating how he arranged to haveReuben Epp do his dirty work.”
“We can start in on that as soon as we getback.”
“That is if the governor and attorney-generalhaven’t already called the inquest.”
At the theatre, Marc had said a long andtearful goodbye to Annemarie before he and Brodie headed for thepier and the trip up the Hudson River. Promises were made, some ofwhich would be kept. Once more a crime had reunited mother and son,and necessity again had pulled them apart.
***
Marc asked the cab-driver to take them directly toBriar Cottage, where they expected to find Celia, Beth and, if Godwere kind, the newborn babe. The unmasking of a murderer, for thetime being, would have to wait upon more urgent matters. CharleneHuggan spotted them coming up the walk and had the door open beforethey reached the stoop. Seconds later, Celia rushed into herbrother’s arms, and Marc was led on tiptoe towards the masterbedroom.
“She’s havin’ a nap,” Charlene said, andblushed as she added, “after feedin’ the littl’un.”
Marc stepped softly into the darkened room.Beth lay on top of the comforter with the baby cradled in one arm,its lips still attached to a nipple. For a full minute, Marc juststood and watched them in their peaceful repose, giving silentthanks that he had been blessed thus during his absence.
“Well, stranger, aren’t you goin’ to sayhello?” Beth’s eyes were open and fully upon him.
Marc dropped to one knee, kissed her hand,her wrist, her forearm and finally her smooth, warm brow.
“I won’t break, love.”
“I know. But my heart might.” He stared atthe baby, whose astonishing blue eyes appeared to be appraisinghim.
“I’m glad you’re back safe, my darlin’.” Sheraised herself up on one elbow. “Now say hello to yer son -Maggie.”
Marc lifted his daughter into his arms. Theyhad agreed that, should the child by some quirk of fate turn out tobe a girl, they would name it Mary Margaret, after itsgrandmothers.
“Welcome to the world, Maggie,” hewhispered.
TWENTY FIVE
Constable Ewan Wilkie interrupted a consultation thatCobb was having with one of his snitches in The Crooked Anchor toinform him that Marc Edwards had been seen in a cab heading for hiscottage on Sherbourne Street. Cobb thanked Wilkie and hurried off,leaving half a flagon of ale that Wilkie saw no point in wasting.Cobb himself was not so sure why he ought to rush off, since themajor’s return could not possibly bring anything positive to theaborted investigation. But he found himself puffing his way eastalong King Street at a clip that threatened to upset the delicatebalance of his body’s peculiar pear-shape.