Norah flinched.
“But you turned on him, fed up with his errant ways, his lies, and his truancy. You gave him his walking papers. Badger had been amusing, but he was expendable. However, the gentle giant surprised you and probably himself. Again, unbeknownst to you, I’m certain that he had been offered a bribe a day or two before Lord Durham’s arrival to help with a prank some Tory gentlemen thought to play on His Lordship and Mr. Ellice. His role, I have reason to believe, was to steal a key to your hatch and slip in here at two or three in the morning and cause a disturbance-perhaps give whoever was sleeping beside Ellice a punch or two or else a nightmarish scare-enough to expose the earl’s nephew as a found-in in a brothel.”
“Michael wouldn’t have touched any of the girls.”
“You’re right, but he was perfectly capable of tricking his sponsor out of the bribe money, or perhaps he planned to sneak Sarah out with him. Whatever his thinking, he did take the key. It was found when we discovered his body in a ditch this afternoon.”
Marc watched her for a reaction but saw none.
“He had been lying there since the middle of the night when you shot him dead.”
Cobb tipped sideways on his chair. Norah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her lower lip was trembling, and he realized that she was nearing exhaustion and a possible breakdown. He would have to hurry.
“But back to Sarah. When Michael turned on you Monday morning, scared and excited and a bit desperate to carry out his bold plan to elope with Sarah and a suitable grubstake, he used the best weapon he had: the truth that Sarah and he were lovers, that they had been deceiving you for months and had made fools of you and your girls. Without giving away their exact plan, he told you-foolishly, imprudently-that Sarah was preparing to leave you for him. You were angry with him, of course, and hurt, and you justifiably gave him the boot and threatened him with bodily harm should he be caught again anywhere in Irishtown. That put Badger in a real bind. He could head up to Front Street to look for Sarah among the thousands of well-wishers, while avoiding Burly Bettman and his thugs, hoping she could get to the bank quickly and they could immediately flee. As it turned out, he also needed to see Mr. Hepburn to retrieve his own savings. Both moves were fraught with danger. What to do? I’m guessing but am pretty sure that he decided to risk everything on a last throw of the dice. I believe he decided to accept the bribe he had up to that point been resisting-he did like you and your girls-sneak in here early Tuesday morning, take Sarah out with him, get his earnings from Hepburn and Sarah’s from the bank, and take off for the border. That meant lying low for the rest of the day, trusting that Sarah would be able to sweet-talk her way out of any jeopardy he might have placed her in by his unwise outburst. Who knows but it might have worked. Desperation will drive any man to recklessness and love will double the quotient.”
“You know nothing about love.”
“Imagine, though, his anguish when, lurking somewhere in the vicinity Tuesday morning, he learns Sarah has been murdered. All his hopes are crushed at once. Then he discovers he is a fugitive from the law as well as the dicers. Nowhere is he safe. Somehow he manages to find refuge for another day or two. He gets his own savings from Hepburn on Tuesday afternoon, using a prearranged protocol. Then he heads for cover. Why doesn’t he leave town? Well, there are troops everywhere in the townships. Roads are being watched. There is also Sarah’s funeral on Thursday. And perhaps he has his own suspicions of who killed his beloved.”
Cobb glanced over at the clock. It was past seven. They had less than an hour.
“While you were angry with Badger, you at least had the satisfaction of dismissing him. Moreover, you knew men well, and it must have occurred to you that Badger could easily have been exaggerating in order to hurt you for spurning his facile charm. Then Sarah comes home from the ceremonies on the wharf and, when you finally get her alone, you confront her with Badger’s claims. Or perhaps you let them sit festering while you watch Sarah for signs. You have made yourself the master of the poker face and the ready-made smile. Sarah is worried, of course, because Badger was truant on the weekend and she knows his weaknesses. Whatever happened, by evening matters on the surface appeared normal. A few regulars come and go. You close up. And then Handford Ellice arrives.”
Norah Burgess was beginning to flag. Only her dark, discerning eyes seemed still to be alive and sentient.
“I cannot believe you intended to murder a young woman you had grown to love and dream a future for. All day you brooded silently about whether she had really betrayed your trust and, if so, whether Badger was a passing fancy and whether, once he was gone, things would be as they had been. I think you entered her room intending to check on her well-being as you usually would. But the sight of her there naked beside an inebriated scion of someone rich and famous and lucky by birth-something caused you to snap. Possibly you knew deep down that Sarah was already lost to you. You grabbed the dagger and killed her before she could offer up another excuse for her betrayal. Love turned to loathing in a blink. And in a blink the deed was done.”
“It’s seven-thirty, Major.”
“But I’m still not sure why you had to shoot Badger. Unless you concluded that he might finger you for the murder or, worse, take personal revenge on you or your girls. Perhaps you waited for two days, hoping to hear that one of his cronies had slit his throat. When that didn’t happen, and the troops were called out to hunt him down, you decided to act. No doubt you keep a lady’s pistol somewhere in here to protect yourself in extremis. You took it and somehow lured Badger to a rendezvous off Jarvis Street. You approached him as a friend and shot him through the heart.”
“Please, no more.”
“You’re ready to confess your crimes?”
With great effort she raised her face high enough to look Marc directly in the eye. “You got most of it right.” She sighed. “Michael never got in here Monday night. I was awake the whole time. There was only me.” A fierce but momentary look of anger seized her. “But he did have that key. When you found it was missing on Tuesday morning, I knew for sure what it was those two had been up to.”
“How did you get in touch with Badger when nobody else could-not the gamblers, the police, or his own sister?”
“He used to hide out in a duck blind along the marsh above the end of Jarvis. I sent Peter there with a note. The boy had no idea what he was delivering and, of course, Michael would spot him coming a mile off.”
That would account for the straw and grass on Badger’s clothing. “But he got the message?”
“Yes. I told him I had nothing to do with Sarah’s death and that I’d tell him exactly how she died. Then I offered him money. That he could never resist.”
“So you killed the only person who might be able to implicate you while avenging yourself for his affair with Sarah.”
“Something like that.”
Norah Burgess moaned and tried to rise up in her chair, pushing with all her might on its arms but falling back with a resigned sigh. Still there was fire in her eyes and she emitted a dry, throaty, ragged laugh.
“But you got the only important point completely wrong,” she cried, with a scathing contempt that was aimed at herself as much as her inquisitor. “Yes, I liked Sarah and I treated her like a daughter. But I didn’t love her. I loved him!”
Norah Burgess finally agreed to accompany Cobb to the station and sign a deposition admitting that she had murdered Sarah McConkey and Michael Badger. When Marc had first proposed it, Norah had complained that she was too tired to move-or think or feel. In fact, during the course of their conversation, she had visibly shrunk into herself and was now as withered and bent as a crone.
“I just wanta curl up here and shrivel away,” she said.