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Cobb got up. “Then let’s head down there. Wegot less than an hour to come up with somethin’ you can take intayer conflab at six.”

Marc nodded, and followed Cobb down the hall.Once again Macaulay popped out of the billiard-room, lookingknackered. “Any news?”

“We’ll have something by six,” Marc lied.“Right now, we’re hoping to interview Mrs. Blodgett.”

“Then you’re in luck. Finch just told meshe’s up, taking tea, and being her wonderful bossy self.”

Marc excused himself, and he and Cobbsprinted for the rotunda.

Mrs. Blodgett was seated comfortably in herrocking-chair, balancing a cup of tea and smiling up at hernursemaid, Tillie Janes. Hetty could be heard working somewhere inthe back shed, and humming to herself.

“Come right in, gentlemen,” Mrs. Blodgettsaid. “Tillie’s just made the tea. You’ll have a cup?”

“That’s kind of you,” Marc said, “butConstable Cobb and I would like to talk to you in private for a fewminutes before my meeting starts at six o’clock.”

“About the sad business upstairs, I take it?”she sighed. “Tillie’s been bringin’ me up to date since I decidedto rejoin the livin’.”

Tillie looked anxious at this turn of events,but whether it was out of general concern for Mrs. Blodgett’sfragile health or something less noble, Marc could not tell.

“I’ll just go an’ tidy up yer room, then,”Tillie said. “No need fer you to leave yer chair, is there?”

“Thanks, Til. You’ve been real good to an oldlady.”

Tillie smiled, patted her mistress on thewrist, and went back into the cook’s quarters.

“You sure you won’t have a cup of tea? Or amince tart?”

Cobb salivated, but resisted manfully.

“No, thank you,” Marc said. He drew a chairup beside the cook, who looked steadily at him as he said, “Firstof all, what we would like to learn from you has nothing to do withwhat you heard or saw last night, because we know you were in bedsuffering from your arthritis.”

“That I was, sir. I collapsed before thesupper was cleared away, an’ the girls had to carry me into my bed.Tillie stayed with me, bless her.”

“We do think you might be able to help us inanother way, however,” Marc said.

“If you won’t find it too fatiguin’,” Cobbsaid gallantly.

Mrs. Blodgett chortled at this, and managedto slop a good deal of her tea onto her saucer. “My goodness. Lookat me! I ain’t felt this spry in months! I went to bed in terriblepain, but Tillie an’ me prayed real hard an’ the Good Lord blessedme with the longest an’ deepest sleep I’ve had since I was a babe.I’m just disappointed I’ve got no supper to cook fer Mr. Macaulayan’ his guests.”

Marc felt his stomach knot.

“You all right?” Mrs. Blodgett said.

“Did Tillie prepare a glass of camomile teafor you last night?” Marc said in a voice that alarmed the cook andsurprised Cobb.

“Yes, sir, she did. But why’re you lookin’like that? It wasn’t poisoned.”

“About a quarter to ten?”

“I wouldn’t know that fer sure, but it wasonly a few minutes after I was put to bed. I was moanin’ an’carryin’ on somethin’ awful.”

To Cobb’s astonishment, Marc marched acrossthe room to the door of Mrs. Blodgett’s quarters and shouted,“Tillie! Please come out here!”

Then he walked slowly back to Cobb and Mrs.Blodgett, who stared open-mouthed at him.

“You lost yer marbles?” Cobb said.

Tillie came hesitantly into the room, herface a mask of fear.

“Tell us, Tillie,” Marc said sharply, “whatyou put in Mrs. Blodgett’s tea last night before she fell into adeep, painless sleep?”

Tillie began to tremble all over, but she didnot cry. She was made of sterner stuff than her younger sister. Sheignored her interrogator and said to Mrs. Blodgett, “I couldn’tstand to see you sufferin’ so, ma’am. I know I shoulda got Mr.Macaulay’s permission first, but he was busy with his importantguests an’ I just couldn’t bear watchin’ you in such pain feranother night. I’m so sorry, so sorry — ”

“Control yerself, girl!” Mrs. Blodgett cried,not unkindly. “The world ain’t comin’ to an end. Just tell us whatyou done.”

It was Marc who responded: “She slipped up tothe bathroom off the rotunda — after Mr. Tremblay had left it andjust before the other guests arrived to retire — and brought backwith her the bottle containing Mrs. Macaulay’s laudanum.”

“Jesus!” Cobb breathed, then: “Pardon myFrench.”

“I followed the instructions, ma’am. I c’nread! I only give you a teaspoonful in yer tea. An’ look at thewonders it worked! I don’t care if Mr. Macaulay sacks me, I don’t — ”

“Nobody’s gonna get sacked,” Mrs. Blodgettsaid, taking Tillie’s hands into her own swollen, arthritic ones.“You’ve only used a wee bit of it, an’ Mr. Macaulay was gonna havethe doctor see me tomorrow to get some medicine fer me, so there’snothin’ to get upset about. You just leave everythin’ to me.”

“Where is the bottle now?” Marc said.

“In the drawer of Mrs. Blodgett’s commode,”Tillie said warily, not completely convinced by her mistress’sassurances that she was truly out of danger. “Do you want me tofetch it?”

Marc sighed and looked bleakly at Cobb. Thenhe said to Mrs. Blodgett, “I’ll leave the matter in your capablehands, ma’am. In a way, you and Tillie have been helpful to ourinvestigation, though it would have been better if we had knownabout this sooner than later.”

The two women looked much relieved.

Marc and Cobb took their leave. Neither saida word until they were back in the library and seated before theirnotes once again.

“Well, Major,” Cobb said finally, “now we gotno loud-’an’-numb, no Bragg, no Harkness, no wine — an’ noprospects.”

“It couldn’t get any worse, could it? TheAmontillado did contain a massive dose of laudanum, but it looksnow as if it was smuggled in here, probably in a small vial — easily hidden and easily disposed of. The wine could also have comein via someone’s luggage or much earlier with Bragg or any of theservants who attend church or market in town. We can’t be sure nowwhen the crime was initiated, that is to say, whenthe doctored sherry was actually handed to Chilton with maliceaforethought. It could have been given to him an hour after hearrived a week ago Thursday.”

“Well, there’s still Tremblay. He could’vebrought both things with him.”

“Possibly. But we haven’t got any compellingreason to grill him or ransack his room other than our desperationat having no other available target.”

“I’d say we just lost our fishin’ line an’the pole to boot.”

“And I’m due to meet with LaFontaine andRobert in a few minutes. I’ve got nothing but bad news toreport.”

“We still got tomorrow an’ Sunday.”

“Thank God. But I see no reason for you tostay here any longer. Why don’t you go home, say hello to Dora andthe children, and come back in the morning. Young Struthers candrive you in now and pick you up after breakfast.”

Cobb frowned. “You can’t get rid of me thateasy, Major. I’ll just hang around here till yer meetin’s over.I’ll fetch myself a few goodies from the dining-room an’ sit herean’ read through all these notes again. Besides, you may needsomebody to cheer you up after all the bad news has been doledout.”

“Thanks, Cobb,” Marc said, deeply moved bythe unqualified friendship of a man whom, despite hisrough-and-ready manners, Marc considered to be a truegentleman.

***

It had been just over twenty-four hours since thedelegates had completed their negotiations, and surprised eventhemselves that things had gone so well so quickly. But to Marc,seated between Louis LaFontaine and Robert Baldwin at the rosewooddavenport in the parlour, it seemed like an age, an age in whichthere had been a sea-change in the atmosphere and circumstance ofElmwood. Robert looked weary but not dispirited, after a day inwhich, against his nature, he had done his duty by helping Macaulayand Hincks entertain Bergeron and Bérubé at whist, piquet andbilliards. LaFontaine looked as he had from the outset: serious tothe point of self-absorption but acutely aware, in the silence hedrew around himself, of everything going on about him. And Marc,who had endured a fruitless, frustrating day found, to his surpriseand relief, that the moment he glanced at the two documents laidbefore him, he was able to move smoothly back into the sphere ofpolitical negotiation and, for a little while at least, forgetabout murder in all its ugliness. Robert and Louis did their partby refraining from quizzing him about the status of theinvestigation.