Sweet Things Dying - Chapter XI

In which Cole explores suitors and suspects...

XI

Mac sat with his face buried in his hands. He wanted to weep but male resolve wouldn’t allow it. Not in the middle of his busy coffeehouse.

While Cole related the news, Stewart, seated across from him, took it as just that and scribbled furiously into his notebook.

“I knew something terrible were to come of this,” Mac muttered. “As the days went on, I just knew in my heart I weren’t gonna see her again. But like this?”

Cole lit a cigarette and passed it to him. “Make you feel better,” he said, and lit a second for himself. He wasn’t sure how true it was. This was his fourth in an hour, yet a weight still pulled on his insides, growing heavier by the moment.

He had delivered the update, but not yet told all regarding his morning’s work. He didn’t want Stewart printing more than necessary in the evening edition. So he waited until he had a moment to talk with Mac alone.

It was not a long wait.

“You say the detective is Quinn?” Stewart asked, talking over a mouthful of bread and cheese.

“Yes,” Cole replied. “H Division – Commercial Street station. He may still be at the mortuary. And I imagine he’ll have some questions for the family.”

Stewart nodded. “I should think the identity has been made by now. If it is Miss Bloom a sensation awaits.”

Mac dropped a fist. The table shuddered. “This aren’t some penny novel,” he barked. “A damn fine girl is dead.” He lowered his voice: “And I’m gonna `ave to tell this whole lot about it. By God, this place will swell with flowers and well-wishers. She’ll be missed – not least of all by me.”

Mac drew on his cigarette and coughed.

“I am sorry, Mac,” Stewart said. “I meant no disrespect. She was lucky to have known you. If anybody shall set up a fine memorial it will be you.” When he got no reply, the journalist snapped his notebook shut and got to his feet. He pulled on his coat and hat and wound his muffler around his neck. “I’d best go to the mortuary – see what I can glean. Keep in touch gentlemen.”

Cole nodded. Mac stared at a stain on the table until Stewart was gone.

“Do not be upset,” Cole said. “He’s just doing his job. His insensitivity is born of his haste. Deadlines and all that. Christ knows I’m often no better.”

Mac waved it off. “I get all that,” he said. “The man don’t offend me. Can I ask you, do y’think it’s murder?”

“It’s too early to say. And I wouldn’t want to guess.”

“So, what will you do now?”