From behind his right leg Cobb held up asilver-tipped walking-stick with a wolf’s-head knob. “It’s got hisblood an’ brains all over it.”
“But . . . but that’s mine,” Brodiegasped. “I must’ve left it in the alley.”
***
Gussie had been sent home to the tender mercies ofhis hen-pecking wife. Cobb, Sturges and Brodie were sitting in theChief’s office, lit only by a single, flickering candle.
“I didn’t kill him,” Brodie said for thefifth time.
“We’ll get to that in a minute, son,” Sturgessaid. “First, I need to know all the other facts. Cobb, did youfind out who this fellow was?”
“I did. I didn’t know him myself, though I’msure I’ve seen him here and there in the taverns about town. Hisface wasn’t crushed, only the back of his skull. I saw the mark onhis cheek where Brodie says he hit him.”
“Someone in The Sailor’s Arms would know him,then?”
“Right. That’s what I figured. Itucked the shillelagh under his coat – I didn’t want anybodyslippin’ away with it – an’ went around to the taproom.”
“The Shakespeare gents had all cleared out?”Sturges said, recalling the comic events of Wednesday last in thatupper chamber.
“No lights up there anyway.”
“You found Budge, the chap who runs theplace?”
“Yeah, but the bugger said he was too busytryin’ to keep his booze flowin’ to come out with me. I was aboutto read him the riot act when the missus says she’ll come out an’have a gander. She give Budge a dirty look – I figure she gives himplenty of those – an’ followed me out. When we get back there inthe alley – nothin’s been disturbed – I see that Nestor Peck’s beenbringin’ up our rear.”
“Nestor?”
“Seems he was workin’ at the taproom tonight.The girl Etta was sick.”
“Some help he’d be.”
“Turned out he was more’n a help. He knewright off who the dead bugger was.”
Brodie leaned forward. “Who was it?”
“Chap named Albert Duggan, his so-calledcousin from Montreal. They been livin’ together at the far end oftown in the old Mulligan cottage beside the hatchery.”
Sturges looked at Brodie.
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“Gillian Budge told me she’d seen Duggan inthe taproom once or twice before,” Cobb said. “Last week he made apass or somethin’ at young Etta Hogg, an’ Budge threw him out.”
“Sounds like a fine fellow all ‘round,”Sturges said.
“We found a paper parcel, half-opened, nearthe body.”
“Did you send fer Dr. Withers?”
“I sent Nestor off to fetch him. He seemedterribly shook up by what he saw. But he did manage to find thecoroner. Didn’t come back with him, though! As soon as Angus come,I showed him the walkin’-stick. By then somebody had lassoed PhilRossiter from his patrol, and I left him there to guard the areatill the body can be taken to the surgery. Then I come straighthere.”
“There’s no doubt Duggan’s death was due toblows from Brodie’s cane?”
“None, I’m afraid. Angus looked at the bloodyknob, an’ told me to bring it here as evidence. He said the fella’dbeen hit at least twice on the back of the skull.”
“I only struck him once, on the cheek,”Brodie said.
Sturges sighed. He needed a smoke badly, buthis pipe was in the other room and he had to think now, quickly.“Cobb an’ me know you, Brodie. We’re inclined to believe you. Thequestion of the moment, though, is what Magistrate Thorpe willbelieve. On the face of it, it looks bad. You’ve admitted, inwriting, that you an’ Duggan had a rendezvous in that alley, an’you rigged up a trap fer him, an’ bearded him, punched himunconscious, an’ took off, leavin’ yer cane behind. You also had agood reason to want the fella dealt with – one way or another.”
“But I confessed to the crime I didcommit,” Brodie protested, “not murder.”
“Thorpe may see that as a clever ploy on yourpart. You’re a very clever young man.”
“But I didn’t kill him! I abhorviolence.”
“Why don’t we think about who else might’vedone it?” Cobb said, moving easily into the role ofinvestigator.
“Good idea.”
“Let’s say that Brodie did exactly what thisawful-davit says he did,” Cobb said, holding up the signedstatement he had given a quick read. “He leaves the club before theothers to deposit the fake money in the ashcan. The other gents inthe club are still upstairs. I was up there myself last week – aseverybody now knows – and I spotted a window in the coatroom at theback. It overlooks the alley.”
“You think one of the club members might’veseen me knock Duggan out?” Brodie said, perking up.
“It’s possible. You circled the block an’waited ten minutes or more to surprise the blackmailer. By then oneor more of them gents could’ve been in the coatroom ready toleave.”
“Most of them do go out the back way – toavoid the taproom,” Brodie added.
“An’ may’ve seen you scuttlin’ off up thealley – with yer silvery cane layin’ down there winkin’ in themoonlight.”
“Then sneaked out there an’ beat Duggan todeath,” Sturges said.
Brodie looked stunned, but said nothing.
“Right,” Cobb said. “Or it coulda been somebum or roustabout scourin’ the back alleys an’ comin’ upon Duggan,”Cobb said. “Duggan was dressed like a gentleman, so a littlerobbery might’ve been temptin’, eh? Duggan feels somebody gropin’at his pockets, wakes up, an’ gets his head bashed in fer histrouble.”
“Wouldn’t a thief have ripped open thatparcel?” Sturges said reluctantly.
Cobb sighed. “If he saw it, I guess. Still,we found no wallet or purse on Duggan.”
“Well, if it was robbery,” Sturges said,“then our chances of findin’ the culprit are slim.”
“I got my snitches,” Cobb said. “Includin’Nestor, who’s gonna need talkin’ to.”
“Alright, then,” Sturges said. “We now got acouple of directions to go in if we’re to find out who killedDuggan.”
“God, I hope you can,” Brodie said. “I know Ididn’t do it.” He was beginning to have some doubts about the lawalways being the law.
“Cobb, I want you off yer patrol fer a fewdays. You’ll need to go back to the The Sailor’s Arms in themornin’ an’ snoop about. If Duggan lived with Nestor, a visit tothe stone-cottage is in order. Maybe Nestor knows who might’ve hadreason to kill his cousin.”
“Well,” Cobb said, “the bugger was ablackmailer. We do know that.”
“I wish you had kept that note,” Sturges saidto Brodie.
Brodie gave Sturges a strange look. He wasregretting his failure to mention the second note in hisstatement, the one that had come to light just minutes beforeBrodie had left for the club. “I wish I had, too,” he said.
“So what do we do right now?” Cobb said.
“It’s too late to rouse Magistrate Thorpe,”Sturges said. “Brodie, I want your word that you’ll appear promptlyat nine o’clock in James Thorpe’s chambers. I’ll present theevidence we have in hand and outline our other lines of inquiry.What happens then is up to him.”
“It looks as if I’ll need a lawyer,” Brodiesaid.
“You will, son. And a damn good one.”
No-one in the room had any doubt as to whothat might be.
***
Brodie arrived at Briar Cottage at eight o’clock thenext morning. By eight-thirty he and Marc were walking brisklyalong King Street towards the Court House. Beth had left Charleneto mind Maggie while she headed up Sherbourne Street to see whatcomfort she could bring Celia, who was understandably upset andanxious for her brother. As they walked, Brodie filled in thosedetails of last night’s events that he had not had time to mentionin the cottage, where he had received Marc’s assurance that hewould be properly represented by legal counsel. Marc had stoppedshort of officially agreeing to represent Brodie, in part becausehe felt obligated to Robert and the Union Bill cause and in partbecause he expected Brodie would not be charged on the basis of theevidence thus far.