Free A Journeyman to Grief by Maureen Jennings

hardly worth it when we have to be all done by eight o’clock on Wednesdays.
    Albert Carney: I saw him when I took out Mercer at nine o’clock and again when I brought her back at two o’clock.
    Robert Robson: I checked out at ten minutes past three and he signed the sheet. When I returned at seven o’clock he was not present to initial my sign-off but that was not so unusual so I left not thinking anything of it. Wednesday is an early closing day.
    2. How did he seem?
    Littlejohn: I didn’t notice. Businesslike, I suppose. He said I owed him money, which I didn’t, but we cleared it up.
    Wallace: He seemed like usual. We didn’t say much. I’m not one for chatting with the boss like some are. I signed in and he initialled. He might have asked me if I’d had a good run, but I don’t really remember. He was only fishing anyways. Always worried in case we’re cheating him and not reporting the fares.
    (Note from F.F.: Joseph Wallace showed himself to be a chronic complainer with a sour attitude toward life.)
    Carney: I can’t say as I noticed anything different. He’s not the cheeriest of fellows, God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but it is the truth.
    Robson: He wasn’t no different from usual.
    3. Do you know if Mr. Cooke had any disagreements with anybody that might have led to his death?
    Littlejohn: I don’t know. I just do my job. I’ve only worked here three months.
    Wallace: If anybody had disagreements with Mr. Cooke, I’d say it was his tradesmen. He never paid his bills on time. He couldn’t do that to us because we pay him our commission on fares and we pay for rental, but he was on top of every nickel. Get a tear in the upholstery and he’d expect you to pay for the repair. On the other hand, you never know what’s going on in people’s minds, do you? It might be a good idea to have a chin with Paul Musgrave. I’m not accusing him, mind, but I doubt he’s grieving too much at the boss’s demise, given the wife is now available.
    (Note from F.F.: Here Wallace actually gave me a sly wink. I did, of course, ask him what he was referring to, but he clammed up completely. Said he meant nothing by it. Musgrave is a bachelor, that’s all, and aren’t all bachelors in need of wives? He refused to say any more and said to ask the man in question who as I said wasn’t present.)
    Carney: Well, he had tradesmen coming to the door two or three times a week for the past month. They was all pretty hot under the collars cos they said as they hadn’t been paid. God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead.
    (Note from F.F.: I thought it necessary to ask him at this point if he knew the names of the tradesmen and he said there were two he knew: Walter Hammill, the feed merchant, and Timothy Mishaw, a carpenter.)
    Robson. He had a barney with his wife a few days ago, if that’s what you mean. I saw them in the office. Realfierce it was, but she’s not a woman I’d like to cross. I felt more sorry for him than her.
    (Note from F.F.: I pressed Robson on this matter as to what the quarrel was all about, but he couldn’t enlighten me. Said he didn’t hear anything because they were in the office, but he could see them. He does also admit to being a little deaf. When I pinned him down as to the exact time of this supposed row, he said it occurred Friday last, April 10, when he returned in the evening at nine o’clock. No one else was in the barn except the stable hand, Green.)
    4. Would you say that you yourself got along with Mr. Cooke?
    Littlejohn: He was my boss, I didn’t need to like him. I can work anywhere. His cut isn’t no different from the others. One dollar per shift for the carriage and 5 per cent commission on fares.
    Wallace: Why are you asking me? Don’t think you can throw suspicion on me, young man. I had no quarrel with Daniel Cooke, and you can’t twist my words to make it seem that way.
    (Note from F.F.: It took a while to calm Mr. Wallace’s fears.)
    Carney: I get along