side of the constable’s office door. “It’d be ‘interference’ if you bastards knew what you were doing, but you’re a bunch of blundering incompetents, every last man among you.”
Chief Bryce pulled a face. “That’s the husband, Fred Cunningham. He’s in here every day, sometimes twice a day, checking up on us, seeing if we’ve got any new leads, telling us how to do our jobs... The rest of the time, he’s out there snooping around and making a pest of himself. Hey, I sympathize with him. He’s a grieving husband, he wants justice for his wife. But I wish he’d just trust us to—”
A knock came at the door, which squeaked open to reveal a ginger-haired young constable holding out a handbill. “Sorry to interrupt you, Chief, but he’s at it again. Klingman found him passing these out in Davey Quinn’s neighborhood.”
Bryce took the handbill, grimacing as he read it. “This is even worse than the last one. Next, he’ll be asking for the guy’s head on a spike.”
Nell looked through the open doorway to see a fortyish man with wild, red-rimmed eyes trying to muscle his way between two big men blocking Chief Bryce’s door. “That includes you, Bryce!” he screamed, stabbing a finger in the chief’s direction. “All you do is tack up posters and sit around waiting for tips that never come, and you get mad when I go out and actually look for the son of a bitch. What do you think, if you wait long enough, he’s just going to just walk in here and give himself up?”
“Tell him I’ll be out there to listen to his current rant just as soon as I’m finished up here,” Bryce instructed the young constable, who backed up and closed the door.
“May I?” asked Nell as she reached for the handbill.
With a
why not
look, Bryce handed over the bill. Nell held it so that Cyril could read it, too.
$3,000 REWARD!!!
For the capture of DAVID QUINN, wanted for
M U R D E R !
TURN HIM IN DEAD
Or Alive
The sum of THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS is offered by Mr. Frederick Cunningham of Falmouth Heights and Boston, Mass., upon presentation of the BODY or person of DAVID QUINN. As DAVID QUINN is known to be a first-rate marksman who is furthermore possessed of an excitable temperament, any attempt to capture him alive should be undertaken only by armed lawmen. Others are encouraged to employ whatever means necessary to subdue DAVID QUINN before he can vent his murderous rage.
An additional award of TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS will be paid upon receipt of the CORPSE of DAVID QUINN within three months from the date of this circular, provided it is delivered in recognizable condition.
DESCRIPTION.
DAVID QUINN is 29 years old; 5 feet 7 inches high; thinly built; hair dark and thin; complexion pale; eyes protruding somewhat; a moustache of dark color; teeth defective; speaks rather quickly from the nose, in a high tone of voice; has a brisk gait; manner jerky and erratic; wears a bowler hat.
__________
IF KILLED or captured, address all information, telegraphic or otherwise, to FREDERICK E. CUNNINGHAM at either of these addresses:
175 Grand Avenue, Falmouth Heights, Mass.,
64 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.
August 3 rd , 1870
Bryce said, “Obviously Cunningham wants the bas—Davey Quinn not just arrested, but stone-cold dead. I can’t say as I’d feel any different if it was my wife that took a bullet to the brain, but by circulating something like that in Davey Quinn’s neighborhood, he’s basically soliciting murder. A worse assortment of ruffians and plug-uglies you can’t imagine.”
Unfortunately, Nell could imagine them all too well, having lived among that breed for two years. Animals like that would knife their own mothers in the back for a bottle of rum.
Bryce said, “Cunningham accuses us of not putting enough effort into the case, but when he had the chance to help us—
really
help us, not just play vigilante—he refused. When he first came back from New York, I asked if he
Chief Bryce pulled a face. “That’s the husband, Fred Cunningham. He’s in here every day, sometimes twice a day, checking up on us, seeing if we’ve got any new leads, telling us how to do our jobs... The rest of the time, he’s out there snooping around and making a pest of himself. Hey, I sympathize with him. He’s a grieving husband, he wants justice for his wife. But I wish he’d just trust us to—”
A knock came at the door, which squeaked open to reveal a ginger-haired young constable holding out a handbill. “Sorry to interrupt you, Chief, but he’s at it again. Klingman found him passing these out in Davey Quinn’s neighborhood.”
Bryce took the handbill, grimacing as he read it. “This is even worse than the last one. Next, he’ll be asking for the guy’s head on a spike.”
Nell looked through the open doorway to see a fortyish man with wild, red-rimmed eyes trying to muscle his way between two big men blocking Chief Bryce’s door. “That includes you, Bryce!” he screamed, stabbing a finger in the chief’s direction. “All you do is tack up posters and sit around waiting for tips that never come, and you get mad when I go out and actually look for the son of a bitch. What do you think, if you wait long enough, he’s just going to just walk in here and give himself up?”
“Tell him I’ll be out there to listen to his current rant just as soon as I’m finished up here,” Bryce instructed the young constable, who backed up and closed the door.
“May I?” asked Nell as she reached for the handbill.
With a
why not
look, Bryce handed over the bill. Nell held it so that Cyril could read it, too.
$3,000 REWARD!!!
For the capture of DAVID QUINN, wanted for
M U R D E R !
TURN HIM IN DEAD
Or Alive
The sum of THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS is offered by Mr. Frederick Cunningham of Falmouth Heights and Boston, Mass., upon presentation of the BODY or person of DAVID QUINN. As DAVID QUINN is known to be a first-rate marksman who is furthermore possessed of an excitable temperament, any attempt to capture him alive should be undertaken only by armed lawmen. Others are encouraged to employ whatever means necessary to subdue DAVID QUINN before he can vent his murderous rage.
An additional award of TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS will be paid upon receipt of the CORPSE of DAVID QUINN within three months from the date of this circular, provided it is delivered in recognizable condition.
DESCRIPTION.
DAVID QUINN is 29 years old; 5 feet 7 inches high; thinly built; hair dark and thin; complexion pale; eyes protruding somewhat; a moustache of dark color; teeth defective; speaks rather quickly from the nose, in a high tone of voice; has a brisk gait; manner jerky and erratic; wears a bowler hat.
__________
IF KILLED or captured, address all information, telegraphic or otherwise, to FREDERICK E. CUNNINGHAM at either of these addresses:
175 Grand Avenue, Falmouth Heights, Mass.,
64 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.
August 3 rd , 1870
Bryce said, “Obviously Cunningham wants the bas—Davey Quinn not just arrested, but stone-cold dead. I can’t say as I’d feel any different if it was my wife that took a bullet to the brain, but by circulating something like that in Davey Quinn’s neighborhood, he’s basically soliciting murder. A worse assortment of ruffians and plug-uglies you can’t imagine.”
Unfortunately, Nell could imagine them all too well, having lived among that breed for two years. Animals like that would knife their own mothers in the back for a bottle of rum.
Bryce said, “Cunningham accuses us of not putting enough effort into the case, but when he had the chance to help us—
really
help us, not just play vigilante—he refused. When he first came back from New York, I asked if he
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