“Mornin’, major,” he said, coming up to thebench. “Somebody die?”
Marc motioned for Cobb to sit beside him.“No, but somebody we know is about to.”
From that cryptic remark, Marc went on totell Cobb exactly what had transpired in Francis Hincks’ library.Cobb listened with increasingly large intakes of breath and ruefulshakes of the head.
“So all the diggin’ we done to help Brodie isfer nothin’?” he said when Marc had finished.
“Yes. And I’ve got till Monday morning todevelop a new defense, and even if I manage to get my mind to work,I don’t think it’s possible to come up with one.” He grabbed Cobbby the shoulders, and shouted, “Goddammit, Cobb, it’s not right!How can we live in a country that lets innocent young men go to thegallows like lambs to the slaughter!”
“Jesus, major, I ain’t thehangman!”
Marc stopped shaking his partner and droppedhis hands disconsolately to his side. “I’m sorry, old friend.You’ve worked harder and risked more than any of us.”
“Risked the family jewels,” Cobb said.
Marc smiled weakly. “So you did.”
“I ain’t never seen you as low as this.You’re givin’ me a fright. We ain’t done yet, are we? All we gottado is get that peahead, Peck, to remember who made thedeath-threat. If you know who the killer is, you c’n callhim to the stand first an’ have a free run at him. You could evencall Nestor right off an’ scare the bejeezus outta the killerbefore he gets up there. That way, we won’t be ruinin’ anybody whodon’t deserve to be ruined, an’ there’ll be enough evidence to backyou up – so it won’t look like a political hatchet-job.”
Marc’s smile broadened. “We’ll make a lawyerout of you yet. And you’re perfectly correct in your thinking here.The problem is getting Nestor to remember that name. He has everyreason to do so, but can’t. Still, we have to try.”
“We could put him on the rack!”
“And break the few bones he still hasintact?”
“There’s other ways, ya know. Up in Irishtownthere’s a fella that does magic tricks an’ the like at thehooer-houses, an’ one of his tricks is to mesmerize customers an’make them do things even sillier than the ones they usually do inthere. They tell me he can make people remember what they thinkthey’ve forgot.”
“I doubt that Nestor is a candidate forhypnotism.”
“Alright, then I’ll head up to Nestor’s hovelan’ tear it up board by board. It could be that note is hiddensomewheres we didn’t look. Then we’d have the killer’s own writin’to bring to the judge.”
“It would certainly help to have anextortion-note with a death-threat on the back.”
“Well, then, I’ll go straight there now. An’then I’ll beetle into Irishtown an’ have a look fer themesmerizer.”
Cobb was beginning to work up some genuineexcitement, mainly to try and raise Marc’s spirits, but he noticedthat his partner had drifted into a brown study. Marc was staringout at the island as if some solution to the problem lay encryptedin the branches of its leafless trees. When he turned back to Cobb,he too was excited.
“That death-threat on the reverse side ofDuggan’s blackmail-note is the key to this whole business,” hesaid.
“But we ain’t got it – yet.”
“Ah, but you see, old friend, we don’tactually need to hold it in our hands.”
“Whaddya mean? You plannin’ on a littleledger-domain?”
“No. I’m counting on the fact that only weand the killer know of its existence.”
“An’ Nestor.”
“Exactly. Can you get Wilkie or one of thepart-timers to cover your patrol for the next hour or two?”
“Wilkie can’t be roused once he’s asleep, butI can get somebody else.”
“Great. Meet me in an hour at yourhouse.”
“You figured out another way?”
“I have. But we’ve got to hurry.”
Cobb got up, started to trot off, thenstopped and turned back to Marc. “You still want me to go up toPokewood Manner tonight?”
“Yes, definitely. For what I have in mind,we’ll need our suspects completely relaxed and off-guard. Aftertonight it won’t matter whether you keep on acting or not.”
“Okay, major. I’ll go. And I have to say, Iain’t hated it as much as I thought I would.”
***
Cobb was waiting for Marc when he arrived at theParliament Street cottage.
“He’s in the kitchen” Cobb said, “eatin’everythin’ but the fryin’ pans.”
Dora was just serving Nestor a plate of crispback-bacon and four fried eggs when Marc and Cobb burst in.
“Finish up yer vitals, Nestor,” Cobbsaid, “an’ then come inta the parlour. You got work to do.”
Dora grinned. “We’re startin’ to fatten himup – fer Sunday dinner.”
“I can’t do no liftin’,” Nestor complainedwithout looking up or interrupting the regular see-sawing of hisfork.
“We’ve got something a lot more interesting,”Marc said.
***
Ten minutes later found Nestor seated between Marcand Cobb at Dora’s little writing-table in the parlour, upon whichwere spread out several sheets of stationery, a jar of ink, and aquill-pen. Marc had finished sketching out his plan to Cobb whilethey were waiting, and both men were highly excited, a state thatprompted nothing but anxiety in Nestor.
Marc began: “Nestor, you are going to help uscatch the man who killed your cousin. I want you to do preciselywhat I tell you, without asking any questions. Is that clear?”
“I ain’t gonna be stickin’ my neck out, am I?‘Cause I don’t think I could manage that in my – ”
“You’ll manage whatever we tell ya tomanage!” Cobb said.
“The alternative,” Marc said, “is for you tobe subpoenaed to testify in court on Monday afternoon.”
That did the trick. Nestor shut up, andcontented himself with looking aggrieved.
“The killer, as you informed us yesterday,wrote Albert a death-threat on the back of Albert’s ownextortion-note. As far as the killer knows, that note is still inexistence. He may even have gone over to your house and searchedfor it. And the killer now knows not only who Albert Duggan was, heknows who he lived with – thanks to the newspaper accounts and thevery public trial. What we’re planning to do is set a trap for him- and you’re going to be the bait.”
“The bait! But I’m a sick man, Inearly – ”
“Shut up an’ do what you’re told!” Cobbhissed. “Brodie Langford ain’t gonna hang just because you’re asnivellin’ coward!”
Nestor began to tremble, but had no otherresponse.
“Take the pen there and write out on a sheetof paper precisely what I tell you to,” Marc said.
“But I can’t spell,” Nestor protested as hetook the pen in hand.
“I’m counting on that,” Marc said. Then, asMarc dictated, slowly and word by word, Nestor scratched awaybeside him:
Shutelwerth
I’m back in town and I got that note yu sent to
my cuzzin, Mr Duggen. I no yu kilt him. I’l sell yuthe note fer 25
pownds. Cum to the allee behind the cofee howse onYung and King
at 10 Sunday nite. I’l hav the note. Yu hav themunee.
Nestor Peck
“But what if it ain’t Shuttleworth?” Nestor said,beginning to sense what the scheme involved and tremblingaccordingly.
“Don’t worry about that,” Marc said. “You’regoing to make four more exact copies, except that they’ll beaddressed to Tobias Budge, Horace Fullarton, Andrew Dutton andCyrus Crenshaw.”
“My fingers’ll be worn to a frazzle!”
The ingenuity of Marc’s plan, as he hadoutlined it for Cobb, was that only the killer would be tempted torespond to such blatant extortion. The others would dismissNestor’s note as a crank attempt by the murdered man’s cousin tocash in on the crime. And whatever they might think about theeffort, they certainly would not go to the alley behind the BritishAmerican Coffee House tomorrow night at ten. Nor would they likelytell anyone else about it: each of them had a secret to be kept.Moreover, Nestor’s reference to his having possession of adeath-threat note would suggest to them that the cousin had onlythis bogus means of extortion at his disposal – and not thedastardly secrets Duggan had, mercifully, taken to his grave.