“Were the man and the lady just talkin’?”
“I’d say they was havin’ some kind ofdisagreement, ‘cause I could hear them all the way to thecorner.”
“They were shoutin’ at each other?”
“I’d say so.”
“What did they do next?”
“Nothin’ that I seen ‘cause I turned andwalked back up the street. After all, a tiff between a gentlemanand his lady is nothin’ to me, is it?”
Cobb sighed his disappointment. Could themurder have taken place moments after Sammy Slade turned his back?The timing seemed a little off. Gagnon was sure it was closer toseven-thirty when he arrived on the scene and witnessed the deed -close to dusk. But Slade could easily have been mistaken about thechurch bells. Much time could have elapsed between his hearing themand his witnessing the argument between Trueman and Mrs.Cardiff-Jones.
“I’ll need yer address, Sammy. You may haveto tell yer story in court.”
“I ain’t done nothin’ wrong?”
“You’ll just be a witness, Sammy. That’sall.”
“I live in a shack in Irishtown. Anybody canpoint ya to it.”
“All right, then. You c’n go.”
Sammy trundled off. At the next corner hestopped, spotted a couple walking nearby and shouted, “End of theworld! Read all about it!”
Cobb decided to pay Lionel Trueman a secondvisit. It appeared he did not spend the hour or so away from theReverend Ogilvie’s card game entirely at home. But first he had anappointment with his number one snitch at The Cock and Bull on YorkStreet.
***
It was noon hour and The Cock and Bull was jammedwith customers, all calling at once it seemed for food or ale orboth. A smoke haze hung like a shook-out bed sheet at eye level.Cobb peered through it and spied Itchy Quick at a table in the farcorner. Itchy’s two hundred and some pounds were easy to see,despite the camouflage of pipe-smoke. Cobb went over and stoodbeside the table. Itchy was nursing a flagon of ale.
“Oh, Mr. Cobb. You’re just in time. I wasabout to take my last swallow.”
“And as usual you’re short of cash?” Cobbsaid.
“A bit short today, yes,” Itchy said. “Mycousin come in from Burlington last night – stone broke – and I hadto lend him my last penny, didn’t I?”
Cobb sat down and waved for a waiter.
“We’ll have two ales here, sir,” Cobb said tothe fellow who, recognizing Cobb, had come right over.
“You’re a kind man, Mr. Cobb,” Itchysaid.
“I’d prefer Cobb without the mister.”
“Yes, Mr. Cobb. Anythin’ you say.”
“Would I be wrong in guessin’ that you coulduse a little employment?”
“You know I’d do anythin’ fer you, sir. Andyou can always pay me what you think I’m worth – as you always do,bein’ a fair man.”
The waiter arrived with the drinks, and Itchymoved as fast as he could to seize his – his normal movements beingabout as quick as a drugged hippo.
“I’m workin’ on the murder of Mrs.Cardiff-Jones,” Cobb said.
“Yeah. I heard of that. Sad business.”
“And I need to know if anyone was seenlurkin’ about Rosewood between seven and seven-thirty on the nightof the crime.”
“Three nights ago?”
“That’s right. I want you to keep yer earsopen and to nose around amongst the low-life who might have seenanything untoward. I’ll give you a few pennies in advance and ashilling if you come up with anythin’ useful.”
Itchy took a huge swig of his ale, wiped hismouth with his thick fingers, and said, “That’s more than generous,Mr. Cobb. I ain’t heard anythin’ yet, but I’ll get ‘round to someof the other taverns and keep my ears cocked.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Cobb said. He drainedhis ale, got up and made his way through the smoke haze to thedoor.
***
Lionel Trueman, in his study, was surprised to seethe detective-constable enter his private domain for the secondtime.
“More questions?” he said to Cobb with barelya nod of the head by way of greeting. “I thought you had your fillthe first time.”
“Somethin’s come up since I was last here,”Cobb said. He remained standing, as did Trueman.
“What could that possibly be?”
“I’ve got a witness who says he saw youhavin’ an argument with Mrs. Cardiff-Jones on her front porch onthe night of the crime – about seven o’clock or later.”
Trueman’s gaze narrowed. “That’spreposterous. I was at the Reverend Ogilvie’s.”
“And the good reverend tells me you left hishouse for an hour and a half about six-thirty that evenin’.”
Trueman looked down, then up. “Oh. So I did.I forgot. A message came that a friend wished to see me. I camehome and waited, but he didn’t arrive. I discovered later that he’dhad a fall and couldn’t make it.”
“But yer whereabouts are not known by anybodyelse, are they? Between six-thirty and eight o’clock. And thedescription the witness gave me suits you to a T.”
Trueman sighed. “All right, then. I was overat Rosewood about seven o’clock. I called on the lady after myfriend didn’t show up. She would not let me in. She said she had animportant appointment and I was to come back the next morning.”
“An appointment with who?”
“One of her lady friends, she said.”
“You didn’t believe her?”
“I suspected it was a man. There had beenothers than me pursuing the widow – ”
“And you were annoyed? Jealous?”
“I told her I didn’t believe her, and she gotvery angry.”
“And yer jealousy turned to rage?”
“What are you driving at?”
“Maybe you came to Rosewood to have it outwith her.”
“With a vial of acid in my pocket? You’rebeing ludicrous, sir.”
“Mr. Gagnon says he saw a man throw a vial ofacid in the lady’s face, then turn and run off around the east sideof the house.”
“And you think I could be that man?”
“It’s possible.”
“But I loved the lady. I was the favouriteamong her suitors. Why would I try to destroy her?”
“Love and jealousy do strange things tomen.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,Constable, but Mrs. Cardiff-Jones and I had a brief tiff on herfront stoop, then she went back inside to get ready for herso-called appointment, and I went directly back home to see if myfriend had arrived late, then on to the Reverend Ogilvie’s.”
Trueman’s story might seem incredible, but itdid fit the time-line well. If the argument did take place closerto seven than seven-thirty, then that would leave time for Mrs.Cardiff-Jones to go back into the house, fetch her maid Vera, anddress for her meeting with her friend, Marion Stokes.
“And you’re stickin’ with that story?” Cobbsaid.
“I am because it’s the truth.”
Cobb thanked Trueman and was shown out.Trueman’s tale might be dicey, Cobb thought, but a smart lawyercould make much of it during a trial.
***
With Gussie’s help, Cobb wrote up a full report onthe investigation thus far, and left it on the Chief’s desk. Hehoped that Trueman would decided not to complain, although if hewere thrown off the case now, it would not be a calamity. He hadfollowed up almost every lead he could, except for John Perkins,the disaffected servant. Of course, Itchy Quick might come up withsomething. It remained now for him to make another report to MarcEdwards.
***
“That’s a very interesting set of facts you’vedredged up on Lionel Trueman,” Marc said. He was dandling youngJunior on his knee as he spoke with Cobb in the parlour of BriarCottage. Squeals of laughter could be heard coming from the nextroom. “It puts a third party in the vicinity, and the presence of athird party is critical to my defense of Gilles Gagnon.”
“The timing’s a little off, Major, unless mywitness got it wrong. Or Gagnon.”
“I don’t think Gagnon did. He left BaldwinHouse at seven-fifteen, and it’s only a ten-minute walk toRosewood. That puts him there close to seven-thirty.”
“I see. And Vera the maid says her mistresswent out a little before that.”
“Of course, there’s no reason why Trueman hadto throw the acid at five after seven. We only have his word thathe returned to his card game immediately. He could have lingered atthe side of the house, brooding and unobserved, until the lady cameout again at seven-thirty.”