Minor Corruption (11 page)

“I can’t think of anything that would upset
me more than I have been.”

“It has to do with Betsy.”

“Oh?” Was it fear or merely a twinge of
further pain in his eyes?

“There’s no way to lead up to this, so I’m
going to say it directly. Burton Thurgood claims that his daughter
named you as the father of her babe.”

The colour drained from the old man’s face,
then returned immediately as he began to laugh – a dry, mirthless,
bitter laugh. Finally he was able to speak. “That’s absurd,” he
said more calmly than Robert would have imagined in the
circumstances. “I was her ‘uncle’ and she was my precious little
‘niece.’”

“I agree wholeheartedly. But three witnesses
heard her reply ‘Seamus’ to the question ‘Who is the father of your
child?’. One of the witnesses was Dora Cobb, the midwife.”

“But Betsy would have been delirious. She’d
been butchered by that witch.”

“Exactly what I said to Thurgood when he came
here yesterday looking for money in exchange for his silence.”

“I trust you sent him packing!” Some fire had
come back into the old man’s face, a slight re-animation of the
laugh-lines. Robert began once more to hope that his uncle’s
recovery was beginning. Certainly this conversation was going a lot
better than he’d expected

“He threatened to take his case to the
police, Uncle, but I don’t imagine they would act on such a flimsy
accusation. If he does and they do, I’ve a mind to report the
attempted extortion.”

“Be kind,” Uncle Seamus said. “They’ve
suffered dreadfully over there.”

At this point there came a tap at the door
and Chalmers half-entered.

“There’s a Constable Cobb at the door, sir.
He is asking to see Mr. Seamus.” Chalmers raised his eyebrows in a
quizzical gesture that implied an impertinence had been approached
but his response remained uncertain.

Robert sighed. “At least it’s Cobb.”

***

In the hall, Robert explained to Cobb how fragile a
state his uncle was in. Cobb suggested that Robert remain near the
door so that he could be fetched if Uncle Seamus required
assistance. Cobb also promised to be tactful, insofar as he
understood that ambiguous term.

Uncle Seamus sat at the library table waiting
for him. He struck Cobb as a character out of Shakespeare, a Feste
or Touchstone in a down moment, the kind they must have had when
the duke wasn’t looking. Right now his gnome’s head seemed too
large and heavy to be borne.

“You aren’t putting any credence in
Thurgood’s charge, are you?” he said wearily when Cobb sat down
opposite him.

Cobb did not take out his notebook. “We are
obligated to look into it, sir, that’s all.”

“So you want to know if dear Betsy and I had
ever been lovers?” Uncle Seamus said with a fine edge to his
sarcasm.

“
Somebody
put a baby into her,” Cobb
said quietly.

“Well, sir, it was not me. I loved that lass,
but as a parent. She was a lonely girl whose own father and mother
saw her merely as a cash-cow. She was very intelligent. She could
read and write. I gave her the run of the library. I made her laugh
– ” He could not continue. A held-back sob broke. He coughed it
away and, to Cobb’s embarrassment, looked up at him with tears
running down both of his scarlet cheeks.

“So you are denyin’ you ever ‘interfered’
with the girl?”

“I am, as God is my witness.”

“Well, that’s a good start, then.”

“A start?”

“Yes. I need you to give me a
causible
explanation for this letter I found in Betsy’s bedroom.” He drew
the note from his pocket and handed it across to Uncle Seamus, who
read it through carefully.

“Well, sir?”

“It’s a thank-you note for the five pounds I
gave her last week.” His voice faltered as he added, “That’s her
handwriting.”

“But you don’t understand, sir. That five
pounds was handed by Betsy to Mrs. Trigger, the abortionist.
You
give the girl abortion money.”

“I did no such thing. She never told me she
was pregnant. If she had, none of this would have happened, I
guarantee you. She told me her mother had a tumour that needed to
be removed by a surgeon. Obviously, and sadly, she lied to me. But
I gave her the money for that purpose alone – and will swear to it,
if need be.”

Cobb cleared his throat. “What do you make of
that ‘I love you’ business at the end of the letter?” he said
diffidently.

For the first time anger showed in Uncle
Seamus’s eyes. “Good Christ, man, don’t you
love
your
children? Don’t they
love
you?”

Cobb blushed, and the wart beside his left
nostril quivered. “I see what you mean, sir.”

That burst of anger seemed to use up the last
reserves of the old man’s energy. His face, his entire body, just
sagged. “I’m awful tired,” he said, barely audible, and with that
he slumped against the table.

Cobb went to the door and called for Robert.
Chalmers was right behind his master.

“I’ll see to him, sir,” Chalmers said,
scowling at Cobb.

Robert turned to Cobb. “This is a sorry
affair,” he sighed.

“And I’m sorry fer upsettin’ the old gent,”
Cobb said. “But it was a useful conversation.”

“You are satisfied he had nothing to do with
Betsy’s death?” Much relief was evident on Robert’s face.

“He denies bein’ the father or in any way
approachin’ the girl improperly. And he had a perfectly logical
explanation for a letter I found from Betsy to him. As far as I can
see, it’s his word against the Thurgoods. And my Dora’ll swear the
girl was delirious to boot.”

“Thank God. It’s time we let this matter lie.
For everybody’s sake.”

“I agree, sir. Now I got to head back to
police quarters and dictate my report. Good day to you.”

Robert shook Cobb’s hand and led him to the
front door. He didn’t know it, but it would be some time before
they would be able to shake hands like this again.

SIX

Cobb had intended to be well away from police
quarters when Burton Thurgood arrived to read his report at seven
o’clock. Thurgood would find little in it to please him. Cobb had
dutifully recounted his interviews with Dora, Auleen, Burton
himself, and Seamus, and attached Betsy’s thank-you note. After
discussing the matter with Wilfrid Sturges, Cobb agreed with his
chief that the investigation had produced a stalemate. Seamus
Baldwin’s denial and plausible explanation for the contents of the
girl’s note had to be balanced against the questionable
“confession” of Betsy Thurgood. There was no way to prove that
Seamus was the father of her babe or that the five-pound note had
been provided for an abortion. Betsy had spoken his name; she had
obtained money from him; she had given that money to Mrs. Trigger;
Mrs Trigger was directly responsible for her death. Those were the
facts as they presently stood. No formal charge could be laid
against Seamus Baldwin or recommended to Magistrate Thorpe.

Alas, Cobb was still at work when Thurgood
arrived promptly at seven o’clock. He should have been at home
eating a hearty supper, but Gussie French had been called away on
an emergency (his son had the mumps, it turned out) and by the time
he had got back, there was just time for Cobb to finish the report
and discuss it with the Chief. Cobb spotted the wiry little man
stomping up the walk, and ducked into the constables’ room. It was
the Chief’s job to deal with him.

For a few minutes he heard nothing from the
office next door. Then he thought he could detect the drone of the
Chief’s voice – reading the report aloud, no doubt, to the
illiterate mill-hand. Then silence again. Then:

“What! You’re gonna let that rapin’ bastard
get away with this!” Thurgood’s voice was already loud and tight
with rage. “You call that an investigation? The bastard says ‘no’
and you walk away believin’ him? My poor girl called out his name
on her death-bed! She swore to me and to God that Seamus Baldwin
raped her and put her in the family way! Let the bugger come inta
court and deny it. I won’t take anythin’ less!”

“Please calm down, sir.”

The two men were in the main room now,
visible to Cobb, who was beginning to feel like a coward for
stowing away from the fireworks. Thurgood was actually backing the
Chief up with the force of his anger, and Sturges was hobbling and
flinching as he retreated towards the door.

Cobb came out. “You got complaints, sir, you
make ‘em to
me
. I was the fella that did the
investigatin’.”

“He admitted he give her the abortion money!”
Thurgood shouted. His bold black eyes blazed and his sheaf of black
curls shuddered with each bob of his jaw. “She wrote them words
about lovin’ him in her letter. What more do you need? The man’s a
pervert. He oughta be gelded and then hung!”

“There’s no proof,” Cobb said, coming between
Thurgood and Sturges. “It’s her word against his
deny-all.
And Mrs. Cobb is willin’ to swear that the girl’s words did not
sound like she was accusin’ him.”

“But she’s yer
wife
! A policeman’s
wife!”

“She’s an honest woman and I’ll flatten the
man that says she ain’t!”

Thurgood stepped around Cobb, jostled past
the Chief and strode to the door. He turned to face them. His anger
slowly evolved into a contemptuous sneer. “This ain’t the end of
this! I’m gonna go to the magistrate and bring my own suit against
that bigwig bastard. We’ll see what a jury of ordinary folk
thinks!”

“That’s your right, Mr. Thurgood,” Sturges
said, wincing. “But that won’t change the evidence. All you’ll be
doin’ is draggin’ a gentleman’s name through the muck.”

“And the magistrate may see it the same way
we did,” Cobb added.

Thurgood’s sneer intensfied. “We’ll see about
that, won’t we? James Thorpe is a Tory and no friend of them
Reformers up at Spadina. And the Attorney-General is a Tory, too,
and a powerful man. They may not find the Baldwins as threatenin’
as you snivellin’ cowards do. So you can just waddle on up to
Spadina and let them know I’m gonna see justice done. And they’ll
be in the middle of it!”

The door slammed and rattled.

“He’ll cool off,” Sturges said, tipping
gingerly back into a chair.

“I hope so,” Cobb said.

***

Cobb went over to Baldwin House to see Robert, but
found Marc instead. As Robert was not arrived yet, Cobb gave Marc a
summary of his investigation and its conclusion.

“Well done, Cobb. You did all you could in
the matter. And unless Thurgood can come up with a witness who
actually saw Uncle Seamus seduce Betsy, he has no case against the
poor man. He’s near a nervous breakdown as a result of the girl’s
death.”

“But Thurgood wasn’t happy with my
conclusions, Major.”

“I feel sorry for the fellow, but facts are
facts, eh?”

Cobb paused, then said, “He swore he’s gonna
take his charge to James Thorpe and bring a civil suit.”

Marc was taken aback. “It’s like that, is
it?”

“He’s as mad as a caged bull in matin’
season.”

“Well, it not only takes evidence to bring a
civil suit, it takes money. Thurgood has neither.”

“He seems to think some of the Family Compact
Tories might be interested in backin’ him. And you gotta admit, a
Baldwin makes a temptin’ target.”

Marc sighed. “You may be right. I hadn’t
thought of that. The Tories would like nothing better than to
slander the Baldwin name before the new parliament opens and an
election is called.”

“Thurgood may not be able to read, but he’s
got a good head on his shoulders along with the elephant-sized chip
already there.”

“Perhaps he’ll cool down when he’s had a
chance to think things over.”

“Maybe so,” Cobb said, wishing he believed
it.

***

When Robert arrived later in the afternoon, Marc
brought him up to date on the investigation. Robert was pleased to
hear that his uncle had been believed.

“After Cobb left our place and Uncle was
tucked away in his room,” Robert told Marc in his chamber, “I went
‘round discreetly to my senior servants – Chalmers, Mr. and Mrs.
Morrisey, and Miss Partridge – and asked them if they had, over the
past three months, seen any behaviour between Uncle Seamus and
Betsy that could possibly be construed as improper. They were quite
aware that I expected nothing less than the truth. They reported
that they had observed nothing untoward. Miss Partridge found his
tickling of Edie Barr personally offensive, but felt that it was
not improper as Edie herself seemed to like it and responded to it
simply as childish fun. She had never seen Uncle Seamus do the same
thing to Betsy. Chalmers found Uncle’s ventriloquist act in poor
taste, but reminded me that Betsy had only played the dummy once or
twice, and when it became clear she didn’t like the role, Uncle
Seamus had not asked her to repeat it. He said that Uncle Seamus
discussed books with Betsy in the library and encouraged her to use
the library as her own. Mrs. Morrisey said she found the
relationship between Uncle Seamus and Betsy to be akin to
grandfather and granddaughter. It was his occasional flirting with
Edie Barr that ‘got up her nose,’ to use her own words. And Herb
Morrisey said that when outdoors, my uncle preferred always to be
alone.”

“Well, that is good news,” Marc said, “all of
it. Thurgood is not only wrong but has no chance of getting hard
evidence from those sources.”

Robert was startled. “Hard evidence for
what?”

“I must tell you that Thurgood has threatened
to go to the magistrate to explore the possibility of bringing a
civil suit against your uncle. He’s even threatened to get backing
from our Tory opponents.”

Robert reached for a macaroon. “I’m sorry to
hear that. You know as well as anybody that we cannot afford a
scandal in the Baldwin family, however frivolous this charge might
be.”