“I know. You and I are sure who theseinitials refer to and why, but we can’t go before James Thorpe withsuch flimsy evidence as a set of initials and suggest that fourpillars of the community and the proprietor of a public house areblackmail victims and murder suspects – certainly not in thispolitical climate. And one of them, Crenshaw, is a LegislativeCouncillor.”
“We could put Budge forward as a suspectbased on his run-in with Duggan.”
“Possibly. Though that alone isn’t likely toget Brodie released. What we need is some solid witness testimonyfrom the other four to establish that Brodie left the scene beforethe bludgeoning – even if one of them is the actual killer.”
“True, but I don’t look forward to trackin’down them Shakespeare gents between now an’ ten o’clock tomorrowmornin’.”
“You won’t have to. Brodie told me on the wayto the Court House this morning that the very four you need tointerview are going to be at Oakwood Manor this evening – for anearly supper and a dramatic reading of the play they’re planning toput on in a few weeks.”
“Lemme guess: Shakes-beard?”
“Yes. Brodie had a part in it, and he wantedme to tell Horace Fullarton that he couldn’t be there and that hefelt he must withdraw, regardless of the outcome of ourinvestigation.”
“So you want me to head out there about seveno’clock?”
“You could interview all of them in an houror less. That way, we’ll have a full report to make to themagistrate in the morning – with enough evidence, I hope, to ensureBrodie’s release.”
“Well, that’s what I’ll do, then.” Cobbgrinned gleefully: “I’ll be as welcome out there as a polecat at atea party.”
EIGHT
As Gillian Budge had forewarned, Tobias Budge was ina very ornery mood. Which suited Cobb just fine.
“What about it? Can’t a tavern-keeper spendfifteen minutes in his own wine-cellar?” Budge snarled across thebar at the constable who had so rudely interrupted his preparationsfor opening-time.
“It’s the par-tick-ulars that interestme,” Cobb said, his nostrils flaring eagerly as Budge carried onwith bleeding a fresh keg of ale from Enoch Turner’s brewery. “Yergood wife tells me she saw you go down there just as she was takin’a tray of drinks to the gents upstairs – a little beforenine-thirty.”
“She did, did she?”
“I got no reason not to believe her.”
Budge scowled, bending his thick black browsinto a pair of fearsome vees and repositioning the variousplatelets of his face. “Some ponce of a sea-captain come in hereshortly before that an’ demanded half a dozen bottles of chateausomething or other for his crew, who’d trailed in behind him. Itold him we didn’t have any, but herself has to go an’ givethe game away.”
“She ordered you to go down there and dig outa case?” Cobb prompted with some delight.
Budge’s hairy-knuckled hands gripped the edgeof the bar as if they were itching to rip it away and use it as aclub on Cobb’s noggin. “So I went downstairs an’ shewent up, leavin’ that dolt Peck in charge of the bar.”
“Because Etta was off sick again.”
“Etta ain’t got nothin’ to do with this!”
“So you must’ve been in a hurry?”
“It’s dark down there at the best of times. Irummaged about with a lantern, but couldn’t find the French boozeanywheres. By now the commotion above me’s gettin’ wild, so I popmy head out the taproom door, settle everybody down, an’ holler atPeck. I hear Mrs. Budge comin’ back from upstairs, so I figureshe’ll take over the bar an’ keep Nestor from gettin’ injured.”
“Mrs. Budge reckons she come back down abouta quarter to ten.”
“Sounds about right. Anyways, I’m backlookin’ for the wine an’ cursin’ that captain, when I happen toglance out the little window at the back.”
Cobb tensed. “The one that looks out onto thealley?”
“Yeah. And I see two pair of trousers withlegs attached – you c’n see nothin’ above the waist from where Iwas – an’ from the way they were scufflin’ together, I figured Iwas seein’ a couple of drunks pushin’ an’ shovin’ each other.”
“You must’ve heard somethin’, bein’that close.”
“Loud voices, mad as hell – but that’s theway drunks are, ain’t they?”
“You didn’t think to try an’ stop them?”
“Never crossed my mind. We get a dozendust-ups around here every week.”
“So you went back upstairs?”
“No. I knew the missus’d be livid – she’sforever tellin’ me to get all the stuff down there put in someorder – so I went over to the other side an’ kept lookin’.”
“That would account fer the fact that yermissus thought you didn’t come up till almost ten o’clock.”
“She has too damn many thoughts, thatwoman.”
“An’ you found the wine?”
“No. I was gettin’ set to come upempty-handed when I glance over at the window again – curious, Iguess, about the drunks. I damn near dropped the lantern.”
Cobb braced himself.
“I see a big stick – like somebody’s cane orshillelagh – comin’ up an’ down an’ thumpin’ on somebody’sbones.”
Cobb felt his breathing tighten. “That’s allyou could see? An’ no sounds?”
“None. I figured one of them drunks wastakin’ a terrible beatin’.”
“Surely you tried to help?”
“What’d you take me for? I run to thebay-doors an’ tried to push ‘em open. But they jam sometimes, so Igive a loud whoop an’ scuttle about lookin’ fer my crowbar, which Ican’t find.”
“And?”
“And I see the beatin’s stopped. The guyusin’ the cane must’ve gone.”
“But you’ve still got an injured man in yeralley.”
“I keep on lookin’ fer the crowbar, but Ican’t find it. I go back to the bay-doors an’ pound on ‘em. Idecide I better go up an’ face the music over the wine – and assoon as I get a chance, I’ll deke out to the alley an’ check on thedrunk.”
“Mighty decent of ya.”
“When I get up here, a dozen sailors areyellin’ fer drink, Mrs. Budge is screamin’ at me an’ Nestor, an’then you come sailin’ in with the news about a body in thealley.”
“An’ you refused to come with me tohave a look,” Cobb said sharply. He gave the barkeep such a fiercestare he forced him to look down at his hands spread upon thebar.
Finally Budge raised his eyes and said with adefiant whine, “I reckoned I’d spent the whole night bein’ bossedabout by my wife an’ shouted at by ignorant sailors an’ looked downon by sea-captains, an’ that body out there’s now police business,so I say ‘fuck it!’ – I’ll let Missus Budge take care ofsomethin’ fer a change!”
“And it didn’t occur to you somewheres in yerthick skull that you oughta come an’ tell me what you saw?”
“But I just told ya, I didn’t see anythin’that’d be of use to the police!”
Cobb nodded towards the freshly tapped keg.Budge frowned, but turned around and filled a flagon with ale -with an inch-and-a-half head. He slid it over to Cobb, who droppeda coin on the counter. Cobb took a hearty sip, leaving the foam tohighlight his upper lip.
“I hear you an’ the dead fella got into afracas here last week,” Cobb said after another noisy sip.
Budge’s black gaze narrowed. “So what? He gotfrisky with Etta, so I grabbed him by the throat, give him a goodshakin’, an’ tossed him out – fer good. Somethin’ I’ve done to ahundred customers since we opened up here.”
“I’m sure you have. But yer missus said youwere particularly upset because of somethin’ Duggan said to Etta,”Cobb said, stretching the truth just a bit.
“She thinks every woman under forty is out totumble me,” Budge said, and for the first time flashed hiscarefully manicured bartender’s smile at Cobb, as if to say ‘Ican’t help it, can I, if I’m too handsome for my own good?’
“Duggan was seen in here before thatweek.”
“I suppose so, but I didn’t know him fromAdam.”