The Fireraisers

by Malcolm Archibald

  Cattanach was Jones. Cattanach the servile clerk, always bowing and scraping, was Jones, the nondescript, average-built and average-looking seaman that nobody could describe or find. Why? Why did Beaumont hide him? Was Cattanach responsible for the murder in Calcutta? Watters knew he had no proof except the coincidence of place and the fact that Cattanach disguised his name. Why should he do that unless he has something to hide?

  Even more important than that: why had Beaumont not informed him? Watters looked up. His thinking walk had taken him to the western side of Magdalene Yard Road. Turning abruptly, he strode back. There was no rush to pick up Cattanach; he knew where the man was. By God, I'll crack this case yet!

  * * *

  'Duff, do you have that list of women for me?' Watters strode into the police office. 'Duff! Where are you?'

  'Here, Sergeant!' Duff was at Watters's desk.

  'Get off my seat.' Watters hauled Duff away. 'Do you have that list of women connected to the abolitionist movement?'

  'Yes, Sergeant.'

  Watters scanned the names. 'There are twenty women here. How many do you know by sight?'

  Duff hesitated. 'Some of them, Sergeant. Not all. Not many.'

  'Right, fetch me Scuddamore. He'll know them all, I wager.' Watters looked up. 'Well move, Duff! I haven't got all day!'

  'Yes, Sergeant.' Duff nearly ran away as Watters reread the names.

  'You want me, Sergeant?' Scuddamore hurried up. 'I'm still working on the list of seamen…'

  'Forget Jones. You're a ladies' man, Scuddamore. Tell me what these women are like.' Watters handed over the list.

  Scuddamore smiled. 'Alicia Hepworth is a stunner,' he said.

  'Tall or short?' Watters asked.

  'Short, she's about…'

  'Score her off the list. Score anybody off the list who is not tall.' Watters handed over his pen and watched as Scuddamore removed half the names. 'How many are left?'

  'Nine, Sergeant.'

  'Right, our woman also sounds well-educated. That argues for at least a middling background.'

  'Yes, Sergeant,' Scuddamore said. 'Should I remove any mill hands and the like?'

  'Yes,' Watters said after a minute's consideration. 'Unless they are tall and well-educated.'

  'That only leaves six women,' Scuddamore said. 'We have Mrs Jacqueline Foreman, Mrs Charlotte Caskie, Mrs Mary Caskie, Miss Elizabeth Caskie, and Miss Anna MacKechnie.'

  Watters leaned back in his chair. 'By our rough process of elimination, gentlemen, one of these women might be our suspect.' Realising that he was again drumming his fingers on the desk, he stopped. 'What do we know about Miss Anna MacKechnie?'

  'She is a school teacher.' Trust Scuddamore to know about Dundee's female population. 'She is reasonably tall for a woman.' Scuddamore's glance at Watters killed his incipient smile. 'She's about five foot five, maybe five foot six, with auburn hair and a temper!' Despite Watters's frown, Scuddamore could not control his grin. 'What a temper that woman has on her! I pity her pupils; I really do!'

  'So in height and class, she could be a suspect. In your opinion, would Miss MacKechnie be liable to bribe a man to attack Amy Beaumont?'

  Scuddamore nodded. 'Yes, Sergeant. She is an evil bitch. Sorry, Sergeant, I mean, she can be aggressive to anybody who disagrees with her.'

  Watters guessed that Scuddamore had once been the victim of Miss MacKechnie's temper. 'What do you know about the others?'

  'Mrs Foreman.' Scuddamore screwed up his face. 'She's as ugly as sin, tall as a man, and dedicated to the abolitionist's cause.'

  Watters nodded and said nothing. He did not agree with Scuddamore's description of Mrs Foreman. On the other hand, he had never been prone to judging women by their looks. 'Is she liable to advocate violence?'

  'I don't know,' Scuddamore said frankly. 'I think you have spoken to her more often than I have. We don't move in the same circles.'

  'Keep her on the list,' Watters said. 'Who does that leave?'

  'Just the Caskie women,' Duff said, 'Mrs Charlotte Caskie, Miss Elizabeth, and Mrs Mary Caskie.'

  About to discount all three, Watters closed his mouth. He already knew his opinion. He wanted Scuddamore's thoughts.

  'We all know how Mrs Mary Caskie feels about Beaumont,' Scuddamore said.

  'No, we don't,' Watters contradicted at once. 'How does Mrs Mary Caskie feel about Beaumont?'

  'Don't you know?' Scuddamore sounded amused. 'The two of them were walking out together before Beaumont met Mrs Beaumont.'

  'I did not know that,' Watters said.

  'Common knowledge in Dundee,' Scuddamore said.

  'Not to me.' Watters's fingers were now automatically drumming on the desk. 'That must be twenty-odd years ago.'

  'That was.' Scuddamore evidently enjoyed having information that Watters did not know. 'When first Mrs Beaumont died, and then Mr Caskie senior, Mrs Mary Caskie tried to rekindle her relationship with Mr Beaumont.'

  'How do you know all this tittle-tattle?' Watters asked.

  'Some I heard in the publics, other bits were in the society columns of the papers,' Scuddamore said. 'You should read them, Sergeant.'

  'I'll leave that sort of muck-raking, scandal-seeking nonsense to you,' Watters said. 'All the same, maybe we should have a word with Mrs Mary Caskie. That leaves the other Caskie women.'

  'Miss Elizabeth and Mrs Charlotte Caskie, nee Beaumont,' Scuddamore said.

  'Yes,' Watters said. 'I know young Elizabeth. Tell me about Mrs Charlotte. Does she also have dark secrets?'

  Scuddamore shrugged. 'Not that I know of, Sergeant. She's not the most attractive of women, so I have no interest in her.'

  'All right. We have four possible suspects to interview: Mrs Mary Caskie, Mrs Foreman, Miss Elizabeth Caskie, and Miss MacKechnie.'

  'Is that Miss MacKechnie the skelp-doup you're looking for?' Sergeant Murdoch's heavy tread shook the fittings as he stomped across the room.

  'Aye, that's her.' Watters smiled at Murdoch's description of a school teacher.

  'Well, you'll not find her in Dundee,' Murdoch said. 'She Jimmy Granted to Canada about six weeks ago.'

  'I wondered why I hadn't seen her,' Scuddamore said. 'She immigrated to Canada, did she? Poor Canada. What has it done to deserve a demon like her?'

  'Six weeks ago.' Watters did a quick calculation. 'That was before all this nonsense started, so she's out of the picture.' He stood up. 'Before you go, Murdoch, what do you know about these other women?'

  Murdoch shrugged. 'Nothing much, Watters; I've had no occasion to arrest either of them. I only know about the MacKechnie woman because she taught our wee Alice.'

  'Do you know anything about Beaumont's clerk?' Watters pushed for any information he could get. 'That's the fellow who calls himself Cattanach. He might go under the name Jones.'

  'I don't know him either,' Murdoch said. 'Why?' He grunted when Watters explained. 'I never did trust Big Man Beaumont. He was too much of a preacher to be true blue. I don't believe people who appear white as the driven snow. Is Cattanach your murderer?'

  'He might be,' Watters said. 'I know where he is, and I think he believes he's got away with his deception. He can wait.'

  'You're working on something,' Murdoch said.

  'I do have a bit of a plan,' Watters agreed, motioning Duff and Scuddamore closer. 'It might work, and it might not. Now listen carefully, you gentlemen. This might be a complete waste of time, or it might crack the case. If it fails, it will land me in a lot of trouble, but it will eliminate our prime suspect, leaving only two.'

  'How about us?' Scuddamore asked.

  'You will be obeying my orders,' Watters said. 'You have no choice in the matter.' He grinned. 'That's not quite true. I will give you the opportunity to back out now if you wish. Are you with me?'

  Duff shrugged and said nothing while Scuddamore grunted. Taking these responses for assents, Watters explained what he wished to do.

  'You're taking a risk,' Scuddamore said when Watters
finished.

  'You might be completely wrong.' Duff evidently agreed with Scuddamore.

  'When we tried to trap the woman who bribed wee Willie,' Watters said, 'I thought it was Navarino. It wasn't, but when I tackled Navarino, Mrs Foreman was there, in the crowd near the steps. She is also a recognised abolitionist.' Watters frowned. 'I should have put two and two together earlier.'

  Duff and Scuddamore glanced at each other, saying nothing.

  Watters continued. 'I want her to confront Beaumont face to face. I want to see her reaction, and I want Willie and Varthley to hear her voice.'

  'Do you think she's the woman?' Duff asked.

  'I don't know,' Watters said. 'I think she might be.' He thought of the occasions when Mrs Foreman came to him in friendship. She had often asked about the case. At the time, he had felt her irritating. Now, he wondered if she had been squeezing information from him.

  'Will Mrs Foreman come to Mount Pleasant?' Scuddamore asked.

  'She might if Mr Beaumont sends her his card with an invitation to discuss his withdrawal from any Confederate connections,' Watters said. 'Beaumont gave me his card some weeks ago.' He produced it from a drawer of his desk.

  'That's surely illegal,' Scuddamore said.

  'I know,' Watters agreed calmly. 'I also know a scribe who can copy Beaumont's handwriting perfectly, which will be a blatant forgery and equally illegal.'

  'You could certainly land in major trouble,' Scuddamore pointed out. 'Anyway, young Willie said the woman who spoke to him was a foreigner. Mrs Foreman is as Scottish as I am.'

  'That concerns me,' Watters admitted. 'Varthley said the woman was educated. Willie said she was foreign. I wonder if there were two women.' He sighed. 'I want to finally wrap this case up. This experiment might go badly wrong.' He forced a smile he hoped looked confident. 'Or it could trap Mrs Foreman and finish things off. We're setting the cat among the pigeons in no uncertain manner.' He nodded to Duff. 'Are you sure that neither Mr Beaumont nor Cattanach have ever met you?'

  'Never,' Duff said. 'And they won't think I'm a police officer. I only managed to sneak in by standing on my toes, stretching, and pushing up the measuring tape.' His laugh drew the attention of everyone in the room. 'That was a blatant forgery as well.'

  * * *

  A light flurry of early snow blurred the outline of Mount Pleasant as Watters and Duff drew up in the hansom cab. Watters felt the nerves biting at him as he ordered the driver to wait.

  'We could be some time,' Watters said. 'So find a dry spot and catch some sleep. We'll pay for your time.' Mr Mackay will surely love the expenses I am causing him.

  Nodding, the cabbie cracked the reins. Watters watched him drive the cab around the side of the building.

  'Here we go.' Watters checked for the Tranter inside his coat as he headed for the front door. James, the footman, immediately ushered him towards Beaumont's study at the top of the house.

  'Go right up, Sergeant.'

  Dressed in a canvas shirt and trousers, with a battered cap on his head, Duff followed, his footsteps sounding hollow on the thick carpets.

  'Oh, James,' Watters tried to sound casual. 'I have taken the liberty of inviting Mrs Foreman over to talk to Mr Beaumont. Please show her up to the study when she arrives.'

  'Very good, Sergeant Watters.' James nodded.

  'Come in,' Beaumont called in response to Watters's knock. He looked surprised as Watters and Duff entered. 'Sergeant Watters. I was not informed you were coming.'

  'No, sir.' Watters stepped in with Duff a pace behind. 'I have some new information about the murder on Lady of Blackness, which I would wish to share with you.' He saw Cattanach look up from his position beside the desk.

  'Indeed?' Beaumont hardly blinked. 'I thought that was all done and dusted, Sergeant. Were the Americans not behind it all? I reasoned that a Confederate agent stopped a Federal supporter, possibly that Houghton fellow, from destroying that vessel.'

  'That was one of my theories, Mr Beaumont. However…' Watters indicated Duff. 'This gentleman was a seaman on board Lady of Blackness.' The lie did not come easily. 'He can identify the man Jones who is our prime suspect for the murder.'

  Duff snatched off his cap and held it respectfully in front of him as he shuffled forward. 'Begging your pardon, Mr Beaumont, sir, I was on Lady of Blackness on her voyage from Calcutta.'

  Watters inwardly cringed at Duff's overacting. 'This is Alexander Duff, sir.'

  'There was no Duff on that vessel,' Cattanach said at once.

  'Come along now, Jonesy,' Duff countered Cattanach's words with a grin. 'You and me were side by side in the foc'sle. Don't you remember that storm off the Cape when we had to go aloft and furl the topmast? We were on the same yardarm when the old Lady nearly tossed us out, remember? You said your cousin Davy Jones was waiting for us.'

  Cattanach shook his head. 'You're talking nonsense, man.'

  Beaumont half rose from his desk. 'This is Cattanach, my clerk, Duff. You must be mistaken.'

  Watters tried to appear confident. He was acting on the word of a ship's captain who had glimpsed Cattanach across a busy street. 'There is no mistake, I'm afraid, sir. Your man Cattanach was on that ship under the name of Jones.' Watters took a deep breath. 'I am placing him under arrest, sir, on suspicion of murder and will take him away for further questioning.'

  'The devil you are.' Beaumont stood up, his face red with fury. 'Get out of my office, Sergeant.'

  'I will leave your office, sir,' Watters said, 'and I will leave with Cattanach. He can come willingly, or I can have him restrained.' He produced his handcuffs. 'We will question him at the police office and find out the truth.' Watters's pause was significant. 'The whole truth.'

  'Your superiors will hear about this.' Beaumont had regained control of himself. 'Now leave. Cattanach remains where he is. I won't permit you to take away my clerk.'

  'It's all right, sir.' Cattanach had been examining Duff. 'I know the manifests of your ships. There was no seaman named Duff on Lady of Blackness. That man,' he pointed to Duff, 'is the imposter, not me.'

  Beaumont reverted to the charming gentleman that Watters knew so well. 'I believe you have made an honest mistake, Sergeant Watters. I do appreciate your zeal, however, so on consideration, I will not take this matter any further. My clerk will fetch the crew manifest for Lady of Blackness; if there is no seaman named Duff on the list, then we will call this matter closed.'

  Watters knew his bluff had been called. He had hoped for a more extreme reaction from Cattanach. 'Where is the manifest located, sir?'

  'In the shipping office on Dock Street,' Cattanach replied for Beaumont. 'If Mr Beaumont allows me to take a cab, I can be there and back within the hour.'

  'No.' Watters had to force the issue. If Cattanach left Mount Pleasant, he might never return. 'You're coming with me.' He held out the handcuffs. 'Come along, Cattanach, Jones, or whatever your name is.'

  A knock at the door interrupted them. 'Not now!' Beaumont roared. 'God damn it, can a man not have peace in his own house?'

  The knock sounded a second time, louder than before.

  'Not now!' Beaumont shouted again.

  Watters glanced at Duff. 'That will be the lady,' he said quietly, opening the door. Rather than Mrs Foreman as he had hoped, Scuddamore stood there with young Willie at one side, washed, neat, and in handcuffs that seemed larger than his hands. Varthley stood at the other side, bow-shouldered and shaking.

  Watters cursed. He had planned for Mrs Foreman to arrive first. Oh well, the best-laid plans of mice and men aft gang agley. He thought quickly. 'Wait in the hall downstairs, Scuddamore. We are not ready for you yet.'

  'Yes, Sergeant,' Scuddamore said. 'Come on, you two.'

  'What's this?' Beaumont was red-faced with anger. 'How dare you treat my home in this fashion?'

  'What's all the commotion, Father?' Amy enquired as she ran up the stairs as fast as her commodious skirt would allow, with Elizabeth standing on the landing. Halfwa
y up, Amy stopped, stared at Varthley and gave a small scream. 'You!'

  Watters swore again. He had never intended that Amy should come face to face with the man who had attacked her. His plan was collapsing into chaos.

  Elizabeth turned away. 'Amy! Don't take on so. Come back down.' Turning quickly, she skipped back towards the lower floor.

  'That's her!' Varthley shouted, rattling his handcuffs as he tried to point. 'That's the woman who paid me!'

  Watters was unsure which emotion was uppermost, relief or confusion. He stepped outside the office door, expecting to see that Mrs Foreman had arrived, but instead, Varthley was pointing at Elizabeth.

  'I remember her voice,' Varthley was shouting. 'That's the woman. That's the one!'

  'It's her!' Young Willie joined Varthley. 'She done it!' He grabbed hold of Scuddamore's coat with both manacled hands. 'She still owes me five shillings.' He also pointed directly at Elizabeth.

  'What the devil is the meaning of this?' Beaumont stood at his doorway, staring at the turmoil in his usually well-ordered house.

  'Well, I'm blessed if I know,' Watters said to Duff. 'I think we'd better take them all along for questioning. We'll straighten this up at the police office.'

  Cattanach broke first. Leaping from his position beside the desk, he dived for the stairs to find Duff blocking his passage.

  'Not so fast.' Duff had drawn his baton from under his coat.

  Watters preferred actions to words. Reversing his cane, he lashed out with the lead-weighted end, catching Cattanach across the back of the right knee. Staggering against the ornate bannister, Cattanach dropped a long spike from up his sleeve into his fist. 'Right then, you bluebottle bastard!'

  Watters stepped back, remembering the deep hole in the neck of the murdered man on Lady of Blackness.

  'He's mine, Sergeant.' Without hesitation, Duff smashed his baton onto Cattanach's wrist. The crack of broken bones was quite audible as Cattanach gasped. The spike thumped onto the deep Axminster carpet. Duff hit him again, laying him flat on the floor.