“No. Epp ripped it out of my hand before Icould blot the ink! I tossed the torn section in my waste-bin andforgot about it.”
“But if he intended to hang himself, why didyou give him fifty dollars? That’s a year’s wages.”
“I was pretty certain he would do the deed.But it’s one thing to stab a fellow in a religious fit but quiteanother to loop a rope around your neck and leap into space.”
“You hoped he would run away? Confirming hisguilt and getting out of your hair for good?”
“I suggested Detroit or Buffalo. I promisedhim more money later. I knew if he were captured on the run thatno-one would believe his wild story about an accomplice, even if heproclaimed he was my wife’s cousin.”
“But he killed Dick and then hanged himself.You must have thought then that you had miraculously escapedjustice twice, once here and once in New York?”
“When Epp was found at home and charged withthe crime, I was terrified that he would implicate me. But bynightfall he had hanged himself. I was free. It seemed like divineintervention, as if I had been chosen, despite my past sins andprodigal existence, to carry out some larger mission here on earth.I might have to pay later, but for the time being, God was backingme.”
“So you made no attempt to cover yourtracks?”
“I had no need to. Mavis had assured me timeand again that Epp had kept their secret – he was cunning enoughnot jeopardize his money-source. It did occur to me that I ought tolocate that torn piece of paper, but Muriel told me she’d thrownthe trash from this study into the kitchen stove. I knew nothingabout St. James and the Sunday school children. I gave the crime nomore thought until Cobb barged in here on Thursday. And then hismeddling was stopped instantly by Sir George.”
Cobb coughed. So the lieutenant-governorhad intervened with Sturges. He felt sorry for thechief.
“And Richard Dougherty was dead,” Marc said,the enormity of that truth striking him hard one more time.
McDowell looked up at Marc. “I wish I couldsay I regretted that fact. But I can’t.”
“Cobb will take you to the magistrate. If youlike, I’ll stay behind and give what comfort and explanation I canto your wife. I shall be as discreet as possible.”
“I would be most grateful.”
“Come along, then,” Cobb said, feeling oddlydeflated.
And just like that, it was over.
***
As he invariably did, Marc lay next to Beth and toldher the whole story of the investigation. Maggie slept peacefullyin the cradle nearby. Celia had returned to her cottage withBrodie, who would surely have much to say to his sister about theirdisrupted past, the revelations prompted by his New York adventure,and what the future might hold for them on their own in an adoptedcountry. Cobb had taken it upon himself to conduct the dazed felonto the Court House, where – to the delight of Magistrate JamesThorpe – he willingly signed a confession. After which Cobb wasreceived at home with more than the usual portion of praise andadmiration.
Marc knew enough not to edit out any detailsof his account in deference to Beth’s feminine sensibility: therewas little in life that she had not experienced or did not wish tolearn about. So it was nearly an hour, and close to midnight, whenhe finally finished.
“So this all started with the ReverendStrachan’s sermon an’ his denunciation of Dick?” Beth said with acontented yawn.
“Well, it’s true that poor Reuben Epp wouldnot have been stirred to commit murder if he hadn’t heard thatsermon. And McDowell, panicked as he was at seeing Dick, would nothave had the courage to kill Dick on his own.”
“And all because Dr. Strachan was upset thatDick wrote a letter to support the Reverend Chalmers, who wasfalsely accused by Mrs. Hungerford?”
“That’s a reasonable inference.”
“An’ she did that, thinkin’ she could helpher husband become rector when the Archdeacon is made bishop?”
“True. But she may have acted for nothing.”Marc smiled ruefully. “There’s no guarantee that Strachan will giveup his rectorship – and the emolument it brings in – even if hebecomes bishop. There’s a rumour going around that the Church inEngland is offering him the glory without the gold.”
“Either way, it don’t seem too Christian tome.”
“Sad, isn’t it? Also, we cannot underestimatethe role played in all this by the horrible events that took placein New York a year and a half ago. Dick was a victim more thanonce.” Marc stifled a yawn. “You know what every element in thistragedy has in common, don’t you?”
Beth rolled over and rested her head in thecrook of his arm. “Fanatics,” she said. “Too many fanatics.”
“Here and in the States – both. We’ve gotOrangemen and outraged Tories on the right and, on the left,principled radicals like Mackenzie, who finally went over the edge.In New York, the Tammany Society was obsessed with keeping America‘pure’ – free of foreigners – and they were willing to corrupttheir own political process to do so. Eventually they foundthemselves having to cling to power by protecting pedophiles andmurderers.”
“An’ poor Reuben took his pastor’s plea toheart. An’ Mowbray McDowell thought he was carryin’ out the Lord’swill.”
“God save us from zealots.”
Beth closed her eyes. “We need more peoplelike Robert. An’ you. It’s goin’ to be a long an’ difficult summer,isn’t it?”
“I can’t deny it. But we’re lucky. We’ve goteach other.”
“An’ Maggie.”
“Ah, yes. My son,” Marc said with an ironictwinkle in his eye.