Minor Corruption by Don Gutteridge Page A

she
ain’t been home once till this time. It’s got to be somebody
up there, don’t it?”
    Dora heaved a Dora-sized sigh. “I gotta
report all this to Dr. Withers, the coroner. You can tell him all this malarkey. But you better be careful who you go
accusin’ of what. It was Elsie Trigger who killed yer daughter, not
the father of the dead babe. And I’m gonna make sure she don’t kill
anybody else.”
    With that, Dora turned and left the house.
Behind her she heard Thurgood yell, “I’m gonna have vengeance fer
my little girl! You’ll see!”
    Dora kept on walking. In the moonlight ahead
she could see the outline of the buggy and pony. The boy was
slumped forward, fast asleep. Just as she reached out to wake him,
she heard a door slam behind her, and seconds later, as the boy was
slowly waking up, there came an eerie sound of wood being chopped
in the dark. Dora had just taken the reins when she was brought up
short by a huge, anguished, male cry.
    What a world, she thought. What a goddamned
world.
     
     

FOUR

    Marc was the last to arrive for the meeting in
Robert’s chamber. Already there and seated were Robert; Francis
Hincks, Robert’s good friend and next door neighbour; Robert
Baldwin Sullivan, his law partner and cousin; and Dr. William
Baldwin, his father. Marc said his ‘good mornings’ and slipped into
his customary chair. This was to be a political strategy meeting,
one in which final plans were to be made for bringing those
Reformers in the south-western part of the province up to speed on
the proposed merger of the radical French and English parties.
Recent correspondence indicated that there were several holdouts
and at least two naysayers among the leading Reformers down there,
and a decision had to be made soon as to how this possible
impediment to their plans might be dealt with.
    Hincks spoke first. As editor of the party
organ, the Examiner , and a voluminous correspondent, Hincks
had an appreciative ear to the ground and a grasp of nuances that
were invaluable in the pursuit of political ends. “I don’t think we
have any choice, gentlemen. There’s to be a general meeting of the
western-district Reformers in just two weeks time. Our plan to form
a secret coalition with Louis LaFontaine and the rouge will
certainly be discussed there behind closed doors.”
    “It’s hardly secret any longer,” Dr. Baldwin
said dryly.
    “True,” Hincks said, “but the Tories don’t
really believe it’s anything more than a clever ruse on our part to
throw them off the real scent. I suppose that a year ago I too
would have been among the skeptics. But since then I’ve had the
advantage of reading Louis’ letters and, of course, debating with
him in person.”
    “And LaFontaine’s been able to line his own
troops up and keep them there?” Dr. Baldwin asked.
    “He has, father,” Robert said. “I just got a
letter from him yesterday afternoon, in which he assures us that
matters are progressing satisfactorily. Of course, as we expected,
the Act of Union contained an entailment that permitted a fair
amount of gerrymandering in favour of the so-called English ridings
in Quebec. For example, the two Montreal ridings, predominantly
English and Tory, have been made double constituencies for good
measure. And Louis complains that his French opponents are pushing
to have him defeated in Terrebonne, where he will be contesting a
seat. But he has fully convinced his supporters that Baldwin and
Hincks do not have horns or cloven feet.”
    “The man commands respect just by being
present in a room,” Marc added.
    Hincks cleared his throat. “I don’t see any
way around it, Robert. You must attend the London confab on the
sixteenth and, I hesitate to say so, but you must somehow find the
time and energy to visit beforehand with as many delegates as you
can. Show them our correspondence. Get to them before they arrive
in London and have their minds made up for them.”
    “You’re thinking of places