Helen clattered back through the bar carrying her pail and a dripping mop. Liquid sloshed in the bucket, and the contents of my stomach rose into my throat. I averted my eyes. “Jack Ireland made quite the nuisance of himself. He insulted one of my girls and tried to start a fight when Ray stepped in, which is, as you are no doubt aware, part of his responsibilities here. Mr. Ireland was escorted to the door and politely told never to return.”
“As you said, Mrs. MacGillivray, the men are talking about little else. I dropped in to a couple of the dance halls on my way over here. I’ll admit that the story gets more interesting in the telling. They’re saying that Walker would have kicked Ireland to death if you hadn’t intervened. Isn’t that taking things beyond your job, Walker?”
Ray growled.
“Exaggeration, of course, Constable. Ray was, naturally, extremely angry at the insult to the dancer. An insult that was accompanied by an act of physical violence. Ray takes the girls’ welfare to heart. Don’t you, Ray?”
“I’m inclined to believe you, Mrs. MacGillivray,” Sterling said. “Bar gossip is about the most unreliable evidence the police can get. The men are saying you put Ireland onto the floor yourself before Walker intervened, and that you single-handedly dragged Walker off of Ireland.”
I laughed lightly and waved my hand in the air. “You see the things you might start to believe if you listen to gossip.”
“Which lady was it, Mr. Walker, who Ireland offended?”
Ray said nothing.
“Irene,” I said.
“Irene?”
“Irene.”
“Irene what, Mrs. MacGillivray? What’s her last name?”
“Davidson.”
Sterling wrote in his notebook.
I was about to make my excuses and take my leave when he spoke again. “People are also saying that you’re very fond of Irene Davidson, Walker. A fondness that she doesn’t appear to return. They say you weren’t happy about the attentions Ireland paid her. He promised to take her to San Francisco and make her a famous actress, or so they say.”
Ray said nothing. I wanted to shake some sense into him. He was a suspect in this killing, and his sullen refusal to speak up didn’t show him in a good light.
“Did Ireland have reason to believe that Irene Davidson might give him more dances than he paid for?”
“Unfortunately, he may have,” I said. Obviously the man knew everything, no point in pretending otherwise. “I believe they spent some time together the previous evening, after closing. Perhaps he thought that gave him the right to certain liberties.”
“Gossip, Fee.” Ray was not doing a very good job of hiding his anger at the direction in which these questions were heading. “Now you’re the one spreading gossip.”
“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that, Mr. Walker.”
“He accused me of listening to gossip. Which I never do. Much too common.” I glared at Ray. He threw daggers back. We must have presented an interesting sight to the observant constable.
I waited for Sterling to ask me what else I knew about Irene’s involvement with Ireland. A meaningless phrase like “spent some time together” covered a lot of sins. But his focus shifted.
“At what time did this trouble take place?” “At about, ahem, the time you arrived to watch us closing down.”
“I didn’t see you, Walker. In fact, a couple of your bartenders were showing Mr. Ireland the door. Under Mrs. MacGillivray’s supervision, if I remember correctly. Where were you at the time?”
“Supervising the closing of the gambling rooms, of course,” I answered for my taciturn partner. “Precisely where he would be expected to be at that time of the night.” I opened the inexpensive watch I keep pinned at the waist of my dress when I’m working. “Goodness me, look at the time. Almost opening. If you have no more questions, Constable?” I got to my feet and gathered up my ledger and pen.
Clearly, Sterling had plenty more questions, but he was too well brought up to remain seated when a lady got to her feet. Unlike Ray, who remained slumped over the table.
I tossed the constable a demure smile and dared to flutter my eyelashes. But only once. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you’re investigating this horrid business so seriously, Constable Sterling. That such a thing could happen in our establishment is simply beyond belief. Isn’t it, Ray? Ray!” If my partner had been any closer, I would have kicked him.
“You can count on me to do my duty, Mrs. MacGillivray.” Sterling tucked his notebook and pencil back into the pocket of his scarlet tunic. “Inspector McKnight will want to speak to you later. And you too, Walker.”
“I can be found in my office every morning from nine o’clock until shortly before noon, unless I’m running errands. He’s welcome to call on me then.”
Sterling nodded politely, put his hat on his head and made for the door.
I tossed the ledger on the table, collapsed back into my chair, and took a deep breath. “What the bloody hell’s the matter with you, Ray?”
“Lucky the constable isn’t here, Fee. He’d have you up on charges for language like that.”
“Damn the constable.”
The corners of my partner’s mouth turned up.
“Don’t you understand what’s at stake here?” I said. “There hasn’t been a single murder in Dawson this year. And this one happens right in the middle of our place. The police will be dead keen to solve it. Fast. I wouldn’t trust that McKnight not to pick the first available suspect and drag him off to a hanging.”
“Or her?”
“What?”
“Or drag her off to the hanging, Fee.”
“Are you saying they’re going to investigate me?”
“No, I’m not. Sterling wouldn’t arrest you if he came upon you up to your elbows in blood dissecting the corpse with a paring knife.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I didn’t kill Ireland, Fee.”
“But…”
“But I don’t want the police investigating Irene, that’s all.”
I couldn’t see why they would think Irene had murdered anyone. We’d thrown Ireland out, hadn’t we? Irene would scarcely have come back to the deserted Savoy the next day to meet up with him once again.
Would she?
Why was Ray so worried about her? Or was he? Maybe he was trying to be clever: throw suspicion on Irene so that everyone would think he was protecting her. What nonsense. My imagination was galloping away with me.
“If there is anyone in this town who didn’t want Jack Ireland dead, I’ll stand him to a month of drinks,” I said. “I have to get over to the bank. Constable Sterling is much too polite to make any sort of a detective. He could have pushed us a lot harder.”
The edges of Ray’s mouth lifted a fraction higher. “Only with you, Fee. Only with you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Where’s Angus this morning?”
“Working. He has a job helping Mr. Mann at the store.”
Helen came into the room, her steps hesitant, wondering if it was safe. As the police had gone and Ray and I didn’t appear to be about to rip each other’s throats out, she started to pile the abandoned coffee things onto