Free Solemn Vows by Don Gutteridge

skepticism in Marc’s response. “Tell Mackenzie that I wish only to discuss the issues raised in these letters with their author—as part of my assiduous and continuing effort to understand the long- time grievances.”
    “I’ll do that, sir.”
    “More important, it seems obvious that you are going to need some assistance, especially if you expect to carry out your proposed work within the next day or two. And I’m referring to expert help, not the enthused amateurism of your junior officers or NCOs.”
    “Where would I get such assistance?”
    “When Toronto became a city two years ago, the municipal council established a five-man constabulary modelled on the force that was set up by Robert Peel in London in ’29.”
    “The bobbies?”
    “That’s right. While they are still nominally supervised by the magistrates, they act on behalf of the city council, as a unit, as a kind of independent police force, with specific duties and designated territories. I know the chief constable, Wilfrid Sturges, quite well, as he was a sergeant- major in Wellington’s army. He spent three years on the London force before emigrating here last year to help establish the Toronto constabulary.”
    “And you think he’ll be able to help us?” Marc was dubious.
    “Indeed. I’m going to send a message to him within the hour and request that he offer his best man to you today, to be attached solely to you and your investigation.”
    “That is most kind of you, sir, but I feel obliged to point out that the murder took place outside the city limits in the Township of York, where the Toronto constables have no authority.”
    Head frowned almost imperceptibly. “It is not authority I am interested in, but expertise and local knowledge. I have declared this assassination to be a concern of the military and hence to be placed under the jurisdiction of the military, who in turn take their orders from me.”
    “I see, sir.”
    “And, Lieutenant, I hope you can see also that those of us who bear the heaviest burdens of power and responsibility must occasionally ride roughshod over the petty rules and small- minded regulations confected by bureaucrats to keep themselves amused.”
    Marc smiled. “That is the reason I abandoned the law, sir.”
    Sir Francis smiled also, but his smile was more like that of the fox that had just surprised himself at his own cunning, as he said, “In the meantime, while we are quietly checking out Rumsey and watching his house in the township—the full hue and cry would send him to cover forever—I will tell the Executive Council, who will in due course tell just about everyone else in the province, that we have a prime suspect in our sights, and that it appears he was a hired killer.”
    “But why tip our hand in any way, sir?”
    “Ah, I see, Lieutenant, that you have not yet mastered the fine art of the politician. If, for the moment, the populace believes the assassin to be a hired killer—and he may well be, do not forget—then who in the current political context is most likely to be suspected of hiring him to shoot a Constitutionist councillor?”
    Marc saw, but he was less than impressed. Not only might the investigation be compromised by the premature release of vital information, but allowing the radical Reform group to be obliquely blamed for “hiring an assassin” was certain to harden, not soften, the divisions between left and right, and could severely skew the coming election. “Perhaps we’ll have the blackguard in irons within the week,” Marc said with little conviction.
    “I want you to take all the time you need, Lieutenant. You are to devote every waking hour to this investigation. While there may be some short-term political gainin having the matter unresolved, any failure of the government, and hence of the governor, to apprehend the heinous assassin of a respected privy councillor would undo those gains and begin to cast doubt upon my promise to provide a period of