Desperate Acts

Chapter Six

SIX

Constable Cobb, to his surprise and not a little chagrin, found himself patrolling the south-east sector of the city on a Wednesday evening - during a week when it had been his turn to take the more relaxed day-shift. But last night Ewan Wilkie had, he claimed, spotted a burglar slipping out of the back window of a home on York Street, had given chase, tripped on a prowling tomcat, and turned his ankle. Both cat and burglar escaped unharmed. So it was that one of the part-time constables had been called in to take Cobb's regular day-shift, while the veteran Cobb replaced Wilkie. Fortunately, the first couple of hours this evening had been peaceful, and in one or two of the lulls Cobb had found time for a flagon of decent ale at The Cock and Bull.

He was just ambling west along Wellington Street when he saw someone zigzagging along the side-path towards him. Some drunk, no doubt, beetling home before the wife's curfew, or dander, was up. And young, too, by the slimness of figure and quickness of step. Cobb spread his feet and stood his ground. The fellow almost crashed chest-first into him before coming to an abrupt stop.

"Jesus, what're you doin' out here like this, Brodie Langford?"

Brodie stepped back, bent over, and gasped desperately for breath.

"Somebody chasin' you?"

Brodie straightened up. His face was crimson and his eyes wild. "Is it you, Cobb?" he panted.

"Last time I checked my trousers it was," Cobb said, giving Brodie the once-over. "You ain't drunk, are ya?"

"You've got to help me, Cobb. Please."

Cobb glanced over Brodie's shoulder, but could see no-one menacing behind him.

"Then you better tell me what's goin' on."

"I have just assaulted a man. In the alley behind The Sailor's Arms."

"What'd he do? Try an' rob ya?"

"I punched him hard on the cheek and he collapsed. Look at my knuckles. I may've broken them."

"Was he layin' in wait there?"

"No, no. He was trying to extort money from me. But I had no cause to strike him. I intended to haul him down to the police quarters and have him dealt with there. But I lost my temper, I - "

"An' you decked him, eh? That's pretty much what I'd've done, lad. No need to make a fuss about it. A villain's a villain."

"But I might've killed him."

The young man was clearly distraught. "A tap on the cheekbone never killed nobody," he said, helpfully, as a man of much experience in such matters.

"Would you go back there with me, Cobb? I should never have run off. I don't know why I did."

"Human nature, likely. I'll go down there right now, but there's no need fer you to come. Why don't you go along to our quarters? The Sarge an' Gussie, our clerk, are workin' late tonight. You can tell the chief yer version of what happened, whilst I wake the bugger up an' drag him back there as soon as I can."

"Yes. Yes. I think that's for the best. Thank you."

"No need to thank me, lad. It's been a borin' night - till now."

***

As Brodie approached the new police quarters at the rear of the City Hall, he was relieved to see a light still on in the reception area. The ten-minute walk here had given him time to catch his breath and get a grip on his nerves. He also began to think clearly for the first time since he had grabbed the blackmailer by the lapels. It seemed that, inexplicably, the fellow had got wind of Diana's indiscretion. He had, had he not, mentioned a baby girl in Montreal? Many people knew that Diana had come from Montreal to serve as governess to Robert Baldwin's children. The reference to the baby girl could have been a lucky guess, but then if it had proved a wrong guess, the entire blackmail scheme would have collapsed. The villain, whoever he was, must know something. And if Cobb succeeded in hauling him before the law, would he blurt out what he did know, as he had threatened to? Would he be believed? That was a chilling thought, for it was not only a question of Diana's suitability as a wife (he loved her and had already forgiven her everything) but of her general reputation. Bearing a child out of wedlock, although common enough, was damaging to women of the "better classes" or those in positions of trust, like tutors or governesses. Diana's employer was a kind and a fair man, but at the moment - in the delicate political climate - he could not afford to have the slightest breath of scandal blow over his household. He would have no choice but to dismiss Diana. She was devoted to those children. She would be devastated. And that, of course, was the reason he had decided to confront the blackmailer and end the threat. But it now appeared he had made the situation worse.