himself, he had joined Robert Baldwin in trying to outlaw the Orange Order back in the days of Governor Metcalfe. Sheridanâs rhetoric at the time, moreover, had been far less temperate than Baldwinâs. But dislike was one thing, murder another. Besides, this dispute was thirteen years old. Drunken brawls might be a Toronto Orange tradition. Long-nurtured grudges and stealthy vendettas, as far as Harris knew, were not.
Nor did Small appear to have foul play in mind.
âNatural to be sure,â he replied. âAs natural as quack medicine. Iâm just not convinced it resulted inevitably from his illness.â
Harris asked who had been Sheridanâs physician.
âAn old friend,â said Small through clenched teeth. âHell, Chris Hillyard was already old in â23 when Willie Sheridan first came to this country.â
âIâm surprised Sheridan never made us acquainted,â Harris observed.
âWell, in fact Hillyard did retire for a few years, disappeared to the Indies, and then committed the capital error of coming back. He likely gave Sheridan a purgative thinking it was a sedative.â
Such bitterness, not typical of his pleasure-loving friend, Harris attributed to the sudden weight of sole responsibility for the affairs of the partnership. Feeling oppressed, Small required an oppressorâwhich did not of course mean he was wrong about Hillyard. In any event, Smallâs frown melted away when a girl with sleeves pushed up to her elbows showed them from the inn door to a white-clothed table and set a bottle of red Bordeaux before them.
The Trafalgar House was a small hotel with an oenophilic owner and an indifferent cook. Harris contented himself with bread andcheese to accompany his glass of wine, while it took Small the rest of the bottle to wash down his portion of boiled beef.
âCould anyone else have killed him?â said Harris as soon as they were alone. âPossibly
not
by accident.â
âWhoa, what kind of question is that?â Small took a steadying drink.
âWellâhad he received any threats? Did anyone come to the officeâI donât knowâbrandishing a revolver?â
âThere were times I came close to brandishing one myself,â Small replied. âAnd he certainly made enemies, but apart from the Orangemenâwhich is to say, apart from the police, the fire department, the carters, the innkeepers and the politiciansâany enemies he made he made into friends again right after. My money stays on the medico. But whatâs
your
interest, Isaac? Why so keen?â
Harris shrugged stiffly.
âThatâs what I thought,â said Small, wiping his mouth on a corner of his napkin. âThen whatâs this about threats against her father?â
The two seldom spoke of Theresa, whom Small had courted for eight weeks and Harris for considerably longerâso much longer as to not seem a fit subject for raillery.
After two false starts, Harris explained his belief that Sheridanâs death and Theresaâs disappearance must be linked. He spoke also of his own researches to date and of his unsatisfactory interviews with Crane and Vandervoort.
Small leaned forward. âYou wonât take advice on this subject, I know.â
âLikely not.â Jasperâs most recent adviceâonly half facetiousâhad been that to circulate the blood and reset his compass what Harris needed was to visit a whorehouse, a good one. Jasper knew just the place. On the whole, Harris found he dreaded Smallâs advice.
âLet me just say, Isaac, that involving yourself in the search for Theresa can do you no good.â
âThatâs not theââ
âNo, listenââ
âShe has been missing four days,â Harris in turn broke in. âAll I want is to know sheâs safe.â
âWe all want that,â said Small with murderous mildness, âand then again, suppose
Jamie Buxton
Marita A. Hansen
Monica Wood
Anna Keraleigh
Steena Holmes
Margaret Dickinson
David Roberts
Linda Howard
Steven J Patrick
Marina Adair