Except the Dying

Murdoch switched tack. “Have you ever met a woman named Alice Black?”

“Never.”

“Did Foy ever mention the name?”

Again Vose shook his head emphatically. “Nope. Who is she?”

“Was is more like it. She was found murdered early this morning.”

Vose whistled. “Great Thor, you’re not suggesting John is mixed up in that?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“Sorry I can’t help you, Captain. I’ve never heard tell of her. How’d she die?”

“She was strangled. Her body was found not far from the distillery on the lake.”

“Lordy, Lordy. Was she a jade, then?”

“She was.”

Vose was silent, concentrating on his pipe. There seemed nothing more forthcoming. Murdoch started to rewrap his muffler.

“Thank you, Mr. Vose. I won’t keep you any longer.”

“No hurry. To speak square, this is the most excitement I’ve had all week. I haven’t always been a butcher, you see. I used to own a smithy up near the old tollgate on Yonge Street, and I tell you, Captain, I miss it something fierce. I got to shoe the travellers’ horses and you wouldn’t believe what a grand variety of folks came by my door. They told me such stories. You know, where they’d been, different people they’d met. One man had even saw the Queen herself, right up close. He said she was a little bit of a thing. Pretty as a picture then. This was before the tragedy, of course.” The bowl shone red as he sucked hard on the stem. “Not only that, I miss the horses. Beautiful animals, horses are. Some folks say as how they’re stupid but that ain’t the case. They have a different intelligence from us is all. They’d always know who they could trust. And I never came across a skittish horse that I couldn’t calm. D’you want to hear how I did it?”

The butcher looked so wistful Murdoch couldn’t say no. He nodded.

“I whistle to them soft like this.” Vose started a low trill through his teeth. The tone was sweet and birdlike and Murdoch could imagine it calming the savage beast.

“I did a stint at a lumber camp near Huntsville when I was younger,” Murdoch said. “There was a fellow there had charge of two Percherons and he treated them like they was his sons. Combing and brushing them with a silk cloth ’til their coats shone like show horses. And those manes! You’d think you was touching a woman’s hair.”

He didn’t add that Farqueson had whipped his horses quick enough when a load had been about to come crashing down on him. But that was only human nature.

Vose beamed. “Yeah. I understands that. I wouldn’t’ve sold up ’cept I ruined my back from too much bending and lifting. I had to stop. Besides which the wife found the forge awful far up. This shop was her idea. Not that the work’s so much easier. Those beeves’d challenge Hercules himself.” He waved his pipe for emphasis. “Of course, I don’t sell no horsemeat even though there’s some as do. Would be like having a pal hanging there.”

Murdoch started to edge towards the door. “I’d better be off. I’ve got other places to check out.”

“Hold on a minute,” said Vose. He put down his pipe and in a flash wrapped up a rasher of bacon in some brown paper.

“Here you go, on the house.”

Murdoch thanked him.

“Come back anytime. I’ll have some fresh chickens next week. Raise them myself out back.” He followed Murdoch to the threshold. “There is one thing might be worth telling you, Captain, though I probably shouldn’t.”

Murdoch paused.

“At one of our lodge meetings Foy lets drop as how he was having some trouble at home. What sort of trouble, I asks. ‘The wife’s been acting awful jealous these days,’ he says. ‘Does she have any cause, John?’ I asks, and he gives me a wink. ‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘That’s not good, John,’ I says. ‘Come on,’ he says, ‘who’s gonna resist a taste of fresh meat when all he’s had for years is salt pork?’”

“What was he meaning by that, d’you think?”

“I have the suspicion he was dipping his wick in some soft tallow where he shouldn’t.”

“The maid?”

“More than likely.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vose. If anything else occurs, come round to the station. Number four on Wilton. You know where it is, don’t you?”

“I do. You’ve got a couple of fine horses over there, but that bay gelding is favouring his rear leg. You should get him looked at.”

“I’ll pass that along to the livery constable.”