Leavitt Stafford and the Awful, Terrible, Not Very Nice Plan.

Chapter the Thirty-Seventh: Wilful Ignorance

Five days before the shocking events of the previous chapter, Montague had been going about his daily habit of reading the daily newspaper whilst smoking his pipe, and he had encountered tidings of the untimely passing of a certain homosexual of the appellation Clarence McCormick. Once he had seen that a fellow named John Stafford had been arrested, he had immediately known that this was the fault of Leavitt. There was no question about it.

"Not you again," groaned the policeman once the peculiar bespectacled little man had once again arrived at the station. Just as the case was the previous time he had arrived, the infant he pushed about in his perambulator was lain with his face to the ground. Bloody fool. How was he permitted to care for children? Goodness gracious, he wished to forbid this madman from ever returning!

"You have made a wrongful arrest," Montague stated, his stern eyes seizing the policeman by the shoulders and shaking him about for his utmost incompetence.

The policeman scoffed, "I beg your pardon?"

"Jonathan Stafford is innocent. Free him immediately and arrest his brother, for he is the one to blame."

The policeman placed his hands upon his hips, both fearful of how the silly little man could possess him again and incredulous as to how one member of the public could possibly march in and make such absurd demands of the constabulary, particularly when one had made such outrageous claims as the last time he had arrived. Elixir Mariani? Used for murder? What sort of nonsense was that? "You have no evidence," he insisted, "and there is a great deal of evidence suggesting that Jonathan Stafford is guilty of these heinous crimes."

"Leavitt has long been jealous of his brother, and I have attempted to inform you of the crimes he has already committed, though you have not listened. Release Jonathan immediately and arrest Leavitt."

"Jonathan Stafford," snarled the policeman, "is a homosexual. Of course the man killed his lover; you know how depraved homosexuals are. If men behave in such unsightly ways towards other men as though the men are their wives, then what is to say they shan't engage in even more shocking and unseemly acts?"

Montague momentarily abandoned the perambulator and marched towards the policeman. "Homosexuality is not murder, it is when one becomes enamoured and experiences lust for one for the same sex. It is foolish to assume that Jonathan's homosexuality has led to an act of murder on his part."

"And why are you leaping to the defence of Jonathan? Could it be that you are also a homosexual? You bloody homosexuals and your moral depravity!"

"You must address this matter with competence," Montague demanded. "Release Jonathan immediately and arrest Leavitt before he commits more dreadful crimes."

"And why should he be released?" the policeman sneered. "So that you can join him in his unspeakable homosexual acts?"

"Do not be absurd. I have a wife, and I have never encountered Jonathan in my life. I am merely attempting to inform you that you have made a wrongful arrest and that Jonathan must therefore be released immediately."

"And how do you know that he is innocent if you have never met him? Bloody imbecile!"

"For I know his brother, and I have attempted to report him twice before, though you have refused to investigate. This is unacceptable."

"You claimed he was using Elixir Mariani as a poison!"

"He was."

As the policeman listened to this foolish man, he almost wished to commit an act of murder himself! "GET OUT!" he roared, and he began to push him and the perambulator out of the police station.