“Why did Chilton leave his former post tocome to the colonies?”
“Sir Godfrey candidly informed me thatChilton, who had been addicted to alcohol as a young man but hadbeen sober for years, began drinking again, and committed anindiscretion with one of the women in his employ.”
“Not usually a sacking offense — sadly,” Marcsaid.
“In this case the offense was so public itcould not be hushed up, he told me, and he had no recourse but tolet Chilton go.”
“Then, why recommend the fellow to you? Hesounds like a potential drunk with an eye for the tender sex.”
“True, but Sir Godfrey assured me that hisindiscretions with the maids heretofore had always been minor anddiscreet. Such affairs, as you know, are commonplace. Moreover, inChilton’s case, the man showed remorse, climbed immediately backonto the water-wagon, and was deemed worthy of a secondchance.”
“Well away from Sir Godfrey and Londonsociety.”
“In addition, as the baronet and his familyfrequently spent long periods of time on the Continent, Chilton wasfarmed out to a number of different houses whose masters wereacquaintances of the Milburns. Sir Godfrey sent me half a dozenglowing letters of commendation from these satisfied gents over theyears. Chilton, so long as he kept off the bottle, was a paragon ofbutlerhood.”
“I see why you’d be tempted to take himon.”
Macaulay got up. “I’ve got the letters overthere in that desk drawer. I’ll let you have a look at them, if youlike.”
“Yes, I’d like to read them.”
Macaulay took a key from his pocket andunlocked the drawer. He brought a handful of letters over to Marc.“Here are the reference letters, and here are Sir Godfrey’s — ”
“What’s wrong?”
Macaulay looked puzzled. “The one Idistinctly remember leaving on top of this pile has been shuffledinto the pack.”
“Which one?”
“The letter that Chilton sent me from NewYork the very day he disembarked. Apparently, he arrived there illfrom the rough voyage.”
“What does the letter say?”
“Not a lot,” Macaulay said, holding thesingle sheet up to the light. “It says he planned to rest in NewYork for a week or so, and then set out for Kingston via the NewYork route. He gave me the date he expected to arrive and, as itturned out, he made it only a day beyond his prediction. Strutherssaw him get off the Kingston to Toronto stage outside our gateslate last Thursday afternoon.”
“So someone may have gotten into this drawerand looked over this letter?”
“Possibly. Though, like Bergeron, I may bemistaken about its being on top.”
Marc didn’t pursue the point, as it was clearthat the good-hearted Macaulay did not want to believe one of hisservants was illicitly and recklessly curious about the man whowould rule their lives.
“I don’t see how this particular letter couldhave anything to do with the murder?” Macaulay said.
“Neither do I. However, I do want to scanthose reference letters to see if I can form a picture of thefellow beyond his status as a paragon.”
“Well, somebody didn’t think he wasperfect.”
They heard Cobb enter the front hall and kickthe snow off his boots. He came straight into the library, drippingprofusely, his cheeks as scarlet as his nose.
“Any sign of intruders?” Marc asked.
“No, Major. Not even a jackrabbit crossed theproperty-line last night.”
“Damn,” Marc said. It was now undeniable: someone in this house had hated or feared Graves Chilton enough tomurder him in cold blood.
SEVEN
“So, how do you plan to proceed with theinvestigation?” Macaulay said when Cobb had removed his greatcoat,helmet and mitts, and sat himself down at the table.
“I’ll set up shop in here, if you don’tmind,” Marc said, “and call in our gentleman guests one by one,while Cobb will make himself comfortable in the northeast wing tointerview the staff.”
Macaulay paled. “You’re not going to treatthe Quebecers like suspects,” he gasped.
“No, no,” Marc reassured him. “I intend totreat them as important witnesses who will be assisting us in oursearch for the killer. I’ll simply ask them what they saw and heardlast evening, and whether or not they can help us discover whathappened to your wife’s laudanum.”
Macaulay looked much relieved. “I’ll informMrs. Blodgett and Priscilla that for today at least there will beno formal meals served. I’ll have her prepare cold fare and lay itout in the dining-room to be sampled whenever we wish.”
“Good thinking,” Marc said. He glanced atCobb, then said to Macaulay, “We’ll start our questioning with you,Garnet.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Tell us about last night after your guestsleft this area to go to bed,” Marc began. Cobb dragged his notebookout of his pocket, fished about for his pencil-stub, and preparedto take notes (‘prepared’ being all he ever did, as he invariablyrelied on his memory and, when he got back to the police quarters,he would dictate his findings to the police clerk, AugustusFrench).
“Well, Marc, after you left to see about Beth- and I’m delighted to hear that everything is all right at home — Francis and Bérubé played billiards for a while, while I watchedand tried to help them converse in two-and-a-half languages. Asyou’ll recall, Robert and LaFontaine were together in the parlour.They came out about nine-thirty or so and asked Chilton for asupply of paper and ink. Very mysteriously, I must say, they thenslipped off to their quarters.”
“Where was Tremblay?”
“According to Chilton, who was in and outserving us drinks, he had called for a bath. I don’t know if heactually took one — you could check with Priscilla — as he left usright after the meal. At some point I presume he went to bed — in asulk more than likely.”
“An’ all these French gents was helpin’ youwith yer business adventures, I take it?” Cobb said with a sidewaysgrin aimed at Marc.
“That’s right, constable. Anyway, by teno’clock we were all ready to turn in. I waited like a proper hostuntil everyone had left this part of the house. All went to theirrooms, except Bergeron, who, you’ll recall, retired early to tryand catch up on his lost sleep. He too may have taken a bath — I’dinstructed Bragg to fire up the boiler and Priscilla to leave extratowels so that the guests could fend for themselves in there.”
“So, except for Chilton, all the servantswould have been in their quarters by ten?” Marc said.
“Yes. With Phyllis in Kingston attending hermistress, only Bragg and Finch work on this floor.”
“And Chilton?”
“I watched him begin to tidy up the drinksglasses, bade him good night, and retired to my bedchamber. Hisroutine at this point would be to snuff the candles, check thefront and rear doors to see that they were locked and barred, andthen either retreat to his own rooms or go to his office to workthe accounts at his desk — where we found the poor bugger.”
“By ten-fifteen or so, then, this entiresection of the house would have been deserted and in relativedarkness?”
“It should have been, certainly, though Imyself was in my room by then and Chilton was, as we now know,still up and about.”
“Yes. We can be sure that Chilton did at somepoint go to his office, light two candles in there, open up hisledger, and begin sipping whiskey from a silver flask.”
“That surprises me, Marc, because he gaveabsolutely no indication that he was secretly imbibing. Youyourself observed his behaviour. And there was never the slightesttaint of alcohol on his breath.”
“It was his flask, all right,” Cobbsaid. “I saw his initials — G.C. — on it.”
Marc raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement ofCobb’s keen observation. “Cobb and I will look for further evidenceof his drinking when we search his rooms in a few minutes.”
“He must have taken those wine-goblets fromthe china-cabinet in the dining-room,” Macaulay said.
“Perhaps he was expecting company?”Marc suggested.