Chapter Forty-Six
MURDOCH TRIED TO COMPREHEND what the girl had just said.
Ida poked him. “Oi. You know for a copper you give too much away on your ugly mug.”
Olivia was also gaping. “She ain’t talking about the pastor that was done in, is she?”
“What pastor that was done in?” Ida asked, her hard eyes flashing with excitement.
Murdoch didn’t answer. “Ida, when did this Visitor last come to see you?”
“Monday afternoon. That’s their regular hours. But come on, what’s the gabble on a dead pastor?”
“I’m investigating the murder of a Reverend Charles Howard. He was killed on Tuesday afternoon.”
Ida upended the pail to make sure it was truly empty. “Too bad for him.”
“And too bad for you too. No more bargains to be made,” said Olivia.
“Oh I don’t know about that. I’m planning to meet the cove this very afternoon, as a matter of fact.”
“Dead men don’t meet up with anybody, the last I heard.”
Ida laughed, her hearty coarse laugh. “Most of the men I deal with are dead. That’s why they come to me. It’s my job to bring ’em back to life.”
Murdoch jumped in. “What do you mean, you’re planning to meet this man today?”
“Just what I said. He came by on Wednesday and said to meet him in the Gardens after I’d done at the depot.”
Olivia turned to Murdoch. “So it isn’t the pastor. She’s talking about somebody else?”
“It would appear that way. Either he gave out Howard’s name or it’s an amazing coincidence.”
“Too bloody amazing to be believed, if you ask me.”
Ida frowned. “What are you two gabbling on about? Are you saying the dead gawdelpus was named Charlie Howard?”
“That’s right,” Murdoch answered.
She snickered. “Cheeky tom then. Must have read about it in the papers. It happens. The best one I ever heard was a cove telling me he was the prime minister … come to think of it, maybe he was.”
“Watch your tongue, Ida Harper,” said Olivia suppressing a laugh.
Ida seemed to be enjoying her role as teacher of the game. “They’ll say anything to keep you off the track just in case you fancy putting a bit of a squeeze on the wife. One fellow said he was dying and he was a virgin and his doctor had recommended female connections before he passed on. Said it might prolong his life.” She laughed. “Must have, because he’s still in the land of the living six years later. Big nob with city council. This Howard cove tried to excuse his little sin by telling me he hadn’t had conjugal relations for weeks because his wife had one under her apron.”
“Didn’t you tell me the pastor’s wife was expecting?” Olivia exclaimed to Murdoch.
“Yes, she is. And he wouldn’t have learned that from the newspaper.”
Ida tapped Murdoch’s arm. “Is that all because I have to get going?”
“You swear it’s one and the same man who came to see you on Monday? You said you couldn’t tell one Tom from another.”
“Not to look at, but I know voices. He sounded like he had a cold, but that was probably a lot of gammon too. Of course it was the same one. And he wants the same thing. He must have been happy with our exchange of favours.” She wiped her mouth with a filthy handkerchief she took from her pocket. “I’m off. He won’t wait.”
Murdoch grabbed her by the arm. “You’re not going anywhere. I need to talk to this fellow.” He took out his money clip and removed the last two dollars. “Here. Take this and I want you to swap shawls with Mrs. Bagley.”
“This is my good wool,” protested Olivia.
“So’s mine,” said Ida. But the truth was her shabby plaid was far inferior to Olivia’s hand-knitted shawl, as they both knew.
“Please, ladies. We don’t have much time.”
Reluctantly, Olivia removed her shawl and handed it to the other woman.
“Ida, what is your last name and where do you live? No, you won’t get into trouble, but I’ll have to come back to talk to you.”
“I’d like that,” said the girl with a lecherous smile that elicited another snort of disapproval from Olivia. “It’s Harper. Ida Harper and I live at 310 Sherbourne, the first room at the back.” She wrapped the shawl over her head. “Do I get to keep this?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Olivia and Murdoch spoke simultaneously, and he had the feeling he had just said goodbye to half a week’s wages.
“Where exactly were you to meet this man?”
“In the Horticultural Gardens. There’s a greenhouse on the south side, the one with the water wheel and the pond. It’s nice and private with all the shrubs.”
“He’s taking a risk, ain’t he?” said Olivia. “People go through there.”
“Not so much at this time of the year. He said it was convenient for him.”
“In what way, convenient?”
“He lives close by. He can boil the kettle, pop out for a bit of dock, and be back in time to mash the tea. But if you want my opinion, he’s the kind that gets excited if there’s summat of a risk involved.”
Murdoch got to his feet. “Ida, thank you for your help.” He took Olivia by the arm. “Come on. We have to hurry.”
She allowed herself to be led away. “I still don’t know why I had to give that tart my good shawl.”
“Because I want you to pretend to be her.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Pretend to be a tart? Never. Besides, it sounds dangerous. You seem to suspect this cove of doing for Mr. Howard.”
“I don’t know that for sure. I just want to talk to him. You’ll be quite safe, I promise you.”
“You and your promises. You couldn’t defend a fox from a rabbit in your condition.”
She was right about that, and the last thing Murdoch wanted was to see her hurt. “All I want you to do is be there so he at least comes into the greenhouse and I can identify him.”
She studied his face. “Did your ma want you to be a copper?”
“If she did, she’d be beaming on you right now the way I’ve seen the mothers of some of the bloody priests. They go to every mass and think they’re Mary Herself.”
Murdoch didn’t know if he completely understood the comparison and Olivia’s comment opened up all sorts of possibilities for future reflection but not right now.
“Lumbago or no lumbago, Olivia. I won’t put you in danger.”
She gave his cheek a quick pat. “Don’t worry. I’m good at taking care of myself.”
It didn’t take them long to reach the Horticultural Gardens. The grounds and the outside of the pavilion looked as deserted as ever.
“We’d better not be seen together,” said Murdoch. “I’ll go in first.”
“What if he’s already there?”
“So much the better. Then I won’t have to involve you.”
Olivia frowned. “Hold on. You’re not thinking straight. You could go and arrest some innocent geezer who’s just in there sniffing the flowers. You need to catch this cove in the act. Don’t say no. You wouldn’t be able to prove a thing unless he actually says or does something.”
“Olivia, I can’t –”
She interrupted him. “I told you, I can take care of myself. Besides it’s worth my while to get in good with the frogs, especially you with your conscience.”
Murdoch was about to protest again, but she stopped him. “Get a move on, for Christ’s sake. I’ll wait here. If he is inside, you’ll have to walk on by, but at least you’ll get a gander at him.”
She was right.
“Give me five minutes. If I’m not out by then it means he isn’t there and I’ll have found a hiding place. The greenhouse where they’re supposed to meet is to the left through the connecting door. Near the end of the path, right next to the water wheel, you’ll see a tool shed. I’m going to try to hide in there.”
She nodded and pulled the shawl closer around her face. “Poo, this thing stinks.”
Murdoch left her there, pushed open the door into the greenhouse, and headed for the connecting door to the left. When he went through, he was disappointed to see the place was quite deserted, no muffled man on the prowl. He’d been jolted when Ida said this rendezvous was convenient for her Visitor. There were two men who fitted into that category, Swanzey and Drummond, and both would know the more intimate facts of Howard’s family life. He grimaced. So much for intuition. Until now, he wouldn’t have suspected either one capable of misusing his position as Visitor the way this one was. And certainly not of killing Howard. But one of them had.