A Lesson in Love and Murder (Herringford and Watts Mysteries, #2)(11)
Merinda choked down the cup of Turkish coffee too quickly. She collected herself and exchanged a look with Jem before settling her eyes back on Benny. She was used to Jasper’s open-book face across from her. But a man as tall and broad-shouldered as Benny surprised her. He sat in day clothes with the same rigid formality that must have seen him well situated atop a ceremonial horse. She deduced Benny wasn’t a man who knew how to be comfortable.
“How did you know he had come so far as Toronto?” Merinda asked, surprised when her voice croaked slightly.
“It was always easy to tell where he had been. Mysterious explosions. They always look accidental. Jonathan is so careful. In every instance, the police thought it was just faulty wiring. I was two steps behind him in Winnipeg and then again in Detroit. I followed him here when I heard about the trolley. And I saw the papers—another one yesterday.”
“So your cousin is very dangerous,” Jem said.
Benny nodded. “More than anyone realizes.”
“So why do you want to find him?” Merinda queried. “You’ll probably catch him just in time to bring him back for a hanging, if all is as you say.”
Benny swallowed. “If that is to be so, then I will see he has a fair trial. There are ways that… Sometimes skill sets can be used. Sometimes they use incarcerated men to help them track and trail other killers. There’s still hope that Jonathan can be of use to the Force. I would rather take him back to Regina properly than have him blown up in the middle of some strange city.”
Merinda wanted to throw the man a rope and drag him out of the mire of disillusion. Instead, she clamped her mouth shut before the sardonic words forming in her brain could funnel their way out and hurt Benny.
“What movement is he with?” Jem asked.
“The PLM—People’s Labor Movement. They’re based in the States but have started coming over to Canada. Some of them banded after the strike in Lawrence, Massachusetts. Perhaps you heard of it?”
Merinda and Jem nodded in unison. “You think that Jonathan was involved with the trolley explosions?”
Benny nodded. “I do.”
“How can we possibly predict their next move?” Jem wondered aloud.
“Emma Goldman is speaking tonight, is she not?” said Benny.
“She certainly is. Everyone from seamstresses to striking rail workers will be there. Bills are posted all over the city!” Merinda said excitedly.
“Jonathan’s actions are deplorable and reckless, but underneath it I know he really believes in something,” said Benny. “For all of our disagreements, he must think his philosophy is sound.”
“And you think he might attend the rally?”
“I have to believe it is an opportunity to find him.”
Silence fell between them, and Merinda and Jem watched Benny work the puzzle over in his mind. While he was thinking, Merinda studied him beyond the little nuances and clues of detection. The slightly off-center slant of his nose—it must have been broken and reset—was the only flaw in a face Merinda would describe as handsome. Close-cropped dark blond hair that probably shone in the prairie sun, eyes that were kind and hopeful but seemed to take in everything at once with an alertness Merinda envied.
“So you’ll take my case? You’ll help me find my cousin?”
“Oh, yes indeed,” Jem said.
“We’ll start with the Goldman rally,” Merinda announced, and Jem nodded.
Benny rose and the girls followed suit. “I am staying at the Empire Hotel at Yonge and Gerrard should you need to contact me.”
“Mrs. Malone, would you please show Constable Citrone out?”
“Wait!” A smile flickered over Benny’s lips. “I never told you my rank.”
“Process of elimination! You mentioned being admitted to formal training and that you were stationed up north. If you were a corporal, which I believe is the next rank you can aspire to, you would have the jurisdiction to pursue your cousin without consulting your commissioner.”
“You really are bright.” He looked impressed.
“For a woman?” Merinda scoffed, waving Mrs. Malone away and seeing Benny to the door herself.
“No. Just bright.”
Merinda extended her hand and Benny gripped it. As before, it was several seconds—a moment maybe—before he released it. “I look forward to finding your cousin, Benny Citrone. I just hope you are prepared for the ramifications of his discovery.”
Benny nodded gravely. “I am.”
Merinda returned to the sitting room and Jem.
“I hope Citrone’s sad story put your own whining into perspective,” Merinda reprimanded her.
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Jem murmured.
Merinda crossed to the blackboard and wiped the slate clean. In a bold hand, she wrote:
Benfield Citrone
Jonathan
PLM
Emma Goldman
Trolley
She set the chalk down and rubbed her hands together. “Here’s where you come in, Jemima.”
“Mmm?” Jem’s mouth was full of shortbread.
“DeLuca has been reporting the trolley strike and the explosions. He’s probably back there right now after yesterday’s accident.” She said the last word pointedly. “We need to find a pattern so we can figure out where Jonathan and his crew might strike next.”