Unholy Alliance (14 page)

“An’ you say this Chilton had an eye on some
forbidden part of young Prissy?”

“I’m sure of it. If Bragg was soft on
Priscilla himself, there could be plenty of reason for disliking
the new man. Still, murder is an extreme solution.” Marc paused,
then said, “There was another of the staff here who might have it
in for the butler – Giles Harkness, Alfred’s younger brother.
Macaulay told me he left in a huff a week or so before Chilton
arrived here, because he fancied himself a replacement for Alfred.
He hasn’t been seen since, but he would know his way around the
estate and would likely be able to get in through one of those rear
doors even if they were locked. Though I can’t imagine Chilton
offering him a drink or a toast.”

Cobb grinned. “I run inta the fella a day or
two after he left.”

“You did?”

“Yup. Drunk as a skunk, he was, in The Cock
and Bull. I dragged him to his lodgings. He was holed up in Mrs.
McCurdy’s hovel fer down-an’-outs.” The wart on the end of Cobb’s
nose twitched as he added, “An’ the bugger made threats against his
employer.”

“Excellent. You can check out his whereabouts
last night when you get back into town. It’s possible he conspired
with one or more of his cronies here to do Chilton or Macaulay some
harm. You’ll need to quiz the servants – tactfully – about
that.”

“Well, that certainly gives me a few hooks to
bait when I go downstairs to start my
in-terror-gatin’.
An’
servants have a nasty habit of seein’ more’n they’re supposed to.
They may’ve seen or heard somethin’ that’ll be of use to us.” Cobb
followed Marc back out into the hall. “Now, what about the bigwigs?
We can’t just ignore ‘em, can we?”

“No, we can’t. I’d stake my life that neither
Francis nor Robert was involved. But I’ll need to question them on
what they might have seen or heard, especially in connection with
the laudanum container and the source of the sherry.”

“An’ why would four Frenchmen be worried
about Chilton or what he was scribblin’ in his ledger? Was there
somethin’ secret goin’ on here?” Cobb gave Marc a quizzical look –
part puzzlement, part scepticism.

“These gentlemen are . . .ah . . . four
businessmen here from Montreal. We were holding two days of
meetings about some business plans we’re developing for the time
when our two provinces are united.”

“I see. An’ were any of these
business
plans so important that the details needed to be kept under wraps
an’ well away from the competition?”

“That is quite possible.”

“So, what if Chilton was spyin’ on yer
ad-lib-erations
an’ scribblin’ such details in that big
notebook? Could one of the French gents’ve caught him at it – say,
by poppin’ in last night fer a chat and a drink an’ then, havin’ a
bottle of
loud-an’-numb
to hand, distracted him fer a bit
an’ doctored the sherry?”

Marc thought of someone who might have been
carrying laudanum on him, but said nothing to Cobb. Instead he
said, “Chilton gave every sign of not speaking French, and our
French guests are only marginally acquainted with English, so it’s
hard to see how the butler could have been a spy or carried on a
casual chat in French prior to the attempt on his life.”

“An’ Chilton come straight from England last
week?”

“Apparently. He got off the Kingston to
Toronto stage last Thursday, according to Macaulay. And I
understand a letter from New York preceded him. It’s hard to see
how he could have been hired to come here to spy on a simple
business meeting or recruited on route. Still, I’ll need to know
everything about Chilton that Macaulay knows. Something may also
turn up when we search his room.”

“How are we gonna find the missin’ medicine
bottle without searchin’ the whole house?”

“Good question. I’m certainly not going to
treat our guests as suspects by ordering their rooms and suitcases
turned inside out. We’ll need to start slowly and cautiously.”

Just then Dr. Withers and Garnet Macaulay
emerged from the library. Macaulay’s expression had gone from
bewildered to distraught. He was wringing his hands.

“But that’s impossible, Angus! These
gentlemen must be back in Quebec by Monday. They have obligations.
They came here in good faith.”

“My hands are tied, Garnet. I have my duty as
coroner to perform.”

“What’s the trouble?” Marc asked.

“No trouble, counsellor,” Withers said. “Just
the law.”

“There’s got to be an inquest,” Macaulay
sighed.

“Only if the police do not come up with a
murderer,” Withers said, looking at Cobb.

“There has to be an inquest into any
mysterious death,” Marc said to Macaulay.

“But we’ll be called as witnesses,” Macaulay
protested. “
All
of us.”

Marc got the point. He felt his stomach
knot.

“That’s correct,” Withers said. “No-one who
was on this estate last night will be permitted to leave Toronto
until after the inquest. I am truly sorry if this proves to be an
inconvenience to your guests from Montreal.”

“But if we catch the killer,” Cobb said, “you
won’t need an inquest.”

“Right. I’ll tell you what I’m prepared to
do. The victim has no family here, so I’ll take the body into my
surgery and put it on ice. I’ll give the police until Monday
afternoon to charge someone with the crime before I order an
inquest. The earliest we could assemble a jury would be next
Thursday or Friday – ”

“That’s outrageous!” Macaulay cried.

“Easy, Garnet,” Marc said. “Angus’s offer
gives us three days to find the killer – quietly, eh?” Marc looked
at his friend, the coroner.

“You can count on that,” Withers said. “Until
Monday afternoon, unless the police decide otherwise, no-one
outside this estate need know what happened here. After that, it’s
a public matter.”

“Then you’ll be wanting a list of our guests
and my servants?” Macaulay said hesitantly.

“Not if you’ll give me your word as a
gentleman that every one of them will be available, should I need
to call them to the stand.”

Macaulay looked vastly relieved.

“Moreover,” Withers smiled, “you’ll be my
first witness, Garnet, and the first question you’ll be asked is to
name all those present in your house and on your grounds on the day
of the butler’s death – under oath.”

Macaulay dredged up a grim smile.

“Thank you, Angus,” Marc said. “We have been
having sensitive business discussions with our Quebec guests, and
the less public these matters, the better.”

“You’re welcome. My objective here is
straightforward. I want to determine exactly how and why Graves
Chilton died and bring any wrongdoer to justice. Other kinds of
business don’t interest me.” Withers turned to Cobb. “Horatio, I
believe our friend is still sufficiently flexible to be removed.
Would you mind helping me get him into the sleigh?”

“Okay,” Cobb said, and followed the coroner
back into the butler’s office. “But I’d like to have a look through
his pockets before we toss him in.”

Marc and Macaulay watched as Cobb and
Withers, now dressed for the outdoors, went about the business of
removing the body. (Cobb found nothing of value or interest on the
butler’s person.)

As soon as the coroner’s sleigh had pulled
away and they were at last alone, Macaulay said to Marc, “What are
we going to do? If our French colleagues have to wait around here
for days on end like prisoners under suspicion, they’ll be frantic.
And if they have to expose themselves and our doings here in a
public inquest, it will be a catastrophe. All our secret plans will
be known everywhere, and LaFontaine and the others will be put at
serious risk back home.”

“Especially if the news arrives there before
they’ve had a chance to explain themselves.”

“They’ll have no choice but to deny that any
agreement was reached here. They may even be forced to argue
against positions they accepted here – in order to maintain any
credibility among their compatriots in Quebec.”

“They could even decide to fly the coop,”
Marc said, “though I don’t honestly believe LaFontaine would do
so.”

“And everything was going so well. I don’t
know how I can walk back into the dining-room and tell them what’s
in store for them.”

“We don’t have to do that right away, Garnet.
They’ll certainly be expecting to have to hang around here for at
least a day or two while the investigation is being carried out.
Leave telling them about the deadline and the possibility of an
inquest until tonight, when Cobb and I will have interviewed
everybody and perhaps developed some leads. I don’t want them in a
state of panic or whatever before I’ve had a chance to interview
them.”

“But you were supposed to meet with Robert
and Louis this morning to draft a written accord.”

“I’ll be too busy, obviously, but when I
interview Robert and Francis, I’ll see what they have to say about
it. Don’t despair. With any luck, Cobb and I will find the culprit
by nightfall, and we can take up our business where we left off,”
Marc said with more optimism than he felt.

“Where do you intend to start?”

Marc nudged Macaulay towards the library.
Inside and seated, he said, “I saw Cobb headed onto the grounds as
soon as Angus pulled away. He’s going to walk the boundaries of the
estate with Struthers to see whether anyone came onto the property
last evening.”

Macaulay brightened. “Let’s hope it
was
somebody from outside, eh? I can’t for the life of me
think of anyone in here who would deliberately kill a man.”

“We’ll soon know. The light snowfall will
help us determine for certain whether anyone penetrated the
periphery. Meantime, you can start things rolling by telling me
everything you know about Graves Chilton.”

“All right. As I mentioned earlier, he was
recommended to me by a long-time friend of my father’s in London,
Sir Godfrey Milburn. I have two letters from him, one in response
to my general request for help in procuring an experienced butler
and a second one answering the questions about Chilton I had put to
him in a follow-up.”

“Why did Chilton leave his former post to
come to the colonies?”

“Sir Godfrey candidly informed me that
Chilton, who had been addicted to alcohol as a young man but had
been sober for years, began drinking again, and committed an
indiscretion with one of the women in his employ.”

“Not usually a sacking offense – sadly,” Marc
said.

“In this case the offense was so public it
could not be hushed up, he told me, and he had no recourse but to
let Chilton go.”

“Then, why recommend the fellow to you? He
sounds like a potential drunk with an eye for the tender sex.”

“True, but Sir Godfrey assured me that his
indiscretions with the maids heretofore had always been minor and
discreet. Such affairs, as you know, are commonplace. Moreover, in
Chilton’s case, the man showed remorse, climbed immediately back
onto the water-wagon, and was deemed worthy of a second
chance.”

“Well away from Sir Godfrey and London
society.”

“In addition, as the baronet and his family
frequently spent long periods of time on the Continent, Chilton was
farmed out to a number of different houses whose masters were
acquaintances of the Milburns. Sir Godfrey sent me half a dozen
glowing letters of commendation from these satisfied gents over the
years. Chilton, so long as he kept off the bottle, was a paragon of
butlerhood.”

“I see why you’d be tempted to take him
on.”

Macaulay got up. “I’ve got the letters over
there in that desk drawer. I’ll let you have a look at them, if you
like.”

“Yes, I’d like to read them.”

Macaulay took a key from his pocket and
unlocked the drawer. He brought a handful of letters over to Marc.
“Here are the reference letters, and here are Sir Godfrey’s – ”

“What’s wrong?”

Macaulay looked puzzled. “The one I
distinctly remember leaving on top of this pile has been shuffled
into the pack.”

“Which one?”

“The letter that Chilton sent me from New
York the very day he disembarked. Apparently, he arrived there ill
from the rough voyage.”

“What does the letter say?”

“Not a lot,” Macaulay said, holding the
single sheet up to the light. “It says he planned to rest in New
York for a week or so, and then set out for Kingston via the New
York route. He gave me the date he expected to arrive and, as it
turned out, he made it only a day beyond his prediction. Struthers
saw him get off the Kingston to Toronto stage outside our gates
late last Thursday afternoon.”

“So someone may have gotten into this drawer
and looked over this letter?”

“Possibly. Though, like Bergeron, I may be
mistaken about its being on top.”

Marc didn’t pursue the point, as it was clear
that the good-hearted Macaulay did not want to believe one of his
servants was illicitly and recklessly curious about the man who
would rule their lives.

“I don’t see how this particular letter could
have anything to do with the murder?” Macaulay said.

“Neither do I. However, I do want to scan
those reference letters to see if I can form a picture of the
fellow beyond his status as a paragon.”

“Well, somebody didn’t think he was
perfect.”

They heard Cobb enter the front hall and kick
the snow off his boots. He came straight into the library, dripping
profusely, his cheeks as scarlet as his nose.

“Any sign of intruders?” Marc asked.

“No, Major. Not even a jackrabbit crossed the
property-line last night.”

“Damn,” Marc said. It was now undeniable:
someone in this house had hated or feared Graves Chilton enough to
murder him in cold blood.

“So, how do you plan to proceed with the
investigation?” Macaulay said when Cobb had removed his greatcoat,
helmet and mitts, and sat himself down at the table.