Bendigo
Lucille regarded Mr Barrett keenly as the private detective silently read the letter in the paper.
Leaning back in his chair, Mr Barrett almost smiled, letting the paper drop. ‘Well, well, well, Mr and Mrs Kingsley,’ he said. ‘Edwin Cooper is feeling very hard done by. Not only suing for breach of contract, and bad enough if he’s lying, but he feels he must destroy Miss Emerson altogether, along with her friend.’
‘Our thoughts exactly,’ David said.
‘Surely that’s against the law,’ Lucille said, fanning her neck.
‘That is for Mr Campbell to pursue and a magistrate to ascertain, although untrained as I am, I have to agree. But all I’m doing is collecting the pieces of the puzzle and hoping they fit together to give us a picture. I think it’s shaping up.’ Mr Barrett’s lock of stark, white hair fell over one eyebrow and he pushed it back with a flick of his hand. ‘I’ve never understood what drives a person to do things such as this. I understand why there are murders and violent, grisly crimes, and I understand theft in the pursuit of riches not one’s own,’ he said, his voice drifting, thinking perhaps of something else. ‘But I’ve never understood the need to destroy an innocent person’s reputation. To what earthly benefit?’ He looked at David. ‘Unless in this case there is a benefit and I’m unaware of it.’
David lifted a shoulder as if he couldn’t say but Lucille answered, ‘We know Miss Emerson is about to come into an inheritance. I believe her mother left a small amount, very modest. That’s why Evie went to Cobram, to try to find her sister in order to share the estate with her.’
Mr Barrett pursed his lips. ‘Maybe it’s a tactic of his then. If Cooper goes hard publicly on Miss Emerson, he might think a magistrate will settle a greater amount if he finds in favour of the plaintiff.’ He was still frowning. ‘Tell me, what should I know about this’—he consulted the newspaper—‘Mr Fitzmorgan O’Shea? Is it true that there was a courtship with Miss Emerson?’
Both Lucille and David hesitated.
Mr Barrett understood. ‘If Miss Emerson were here, instead of you, her very good friends trying to defend her reputation, what would she tell me of Mr O’Shea?’ He looked at Lucille.
‘Mr Barrett,’ she started, ‘I have known Evie for a long time as a fine employee and a very gifted milliner. She and Mr O’Shea appeared to be very close at one stage, and for quite some time. We—and all her friends—thought marriage was a possibility, a natural progression if you will, but no engagement followed.’ She licked her lips and fanned some more. ‘Mr O’Shea is a journalist, you see, one who wanted to move around like some travelling salesman.’ She pulled a face. ‘Well, of course, travelling wouldn’t have worked for Evie. Nor for him either, I imagine, having a young wife in tow, perhaps a baby too, if he was pursuing a story.’ Her brows twisted, the fanning stopped. ‘No life for a young woman brought up the way Evie was, expecting a solid home and hearth. She didn’t say too much about it when it ended, but she was clearly upset. More bewildered, even though I believe she initiated the split.’ She wondered if she’d said too much. A glance at David confirmed it, and fidgeting a little, Lucille took a couple of deep breaths, and stopped speaking.
‘Mmh.’ Mr Barrett took a moment. ‘So did Mr O’Shea not have any financial prospects?’
‘Oh dear me no, not enough for anyone to get their hopes up. Nor did Miss Emerson. No, no, theirs was never an acrimonious break up, just sad, really.’ She closed the fan, tucked it under her hands in her lap. ‘As painful as it was for her, all Evie told me was that it just hadn’t felt right to continue. I can’t say she even knew quite what bothered her.’ Lucille clamped her mouth shut.
‘But they remained friends?’
‘At a distance. I’m sure they never saw each other again.’
Mr Barrett took a deep breath. ‘What does this Mr Cooper think he has over Miss Emerson?’ he mused quietly. He tapped the article. ‘It looks to me as if he’s poking the bear with his aspersions on Mr O’Shea’s character.’
Lucille opened her fan again, flapping madly, and glanced at her husband whose face had flushed. He might soon have need of her fan.
‘What is it?’ Mr Barrett asked both.
‘It could mean something even more sinister from Mr Cooper,’ David began, ‘that has a propensity to drag down a number of quite innocent people, by association.’ He ducked his head before continuing. ‘I—we believe that Mr O’Shea is not at all a ladies’ man. Not at all,’ he emphasised.
Lucille saw the detective’s comprehension. ‘And we believe it is that to which Mr Cooper is alluding,’ she said.
Mr Barrett looked over the letter then nodded. ‘Oh yes, I see now.’
‘If Mr O’Shea is also dragged through the mud, he could end up in gaol, at the very least hunted down, and his associates also likely tainted. The threat for Mr O’Shea is very real. Evie would be under greater pressure, and more likely to give Cooper what he wants in order to have him just go away. I think this is Cooper’s ultimate plan, and his total pursuit,’ David said.
Mr Barrett stared at them. ‘Ah,’ he said eventually, and a gleam entered his dark eyes. Sitting forward, linking his hands, he said, ‘In that case, we had better get plenty of dirt on Mr Cooper himself.’
‘A sterling idea, Mr Barrett,’ Lucille said, and the little fan fluttered hard once more.