Brackenreid arrived back at Station House No. 4 and quickly strolled to his office, hoping to avoid anymore confrontations. He entered his office, and peeled off his suit coat, and hat, placing them both on the rack just inside the door. He dropped his walking stick across his desk before he turned and looked out the window behind his desk. He thrust his hands into this trouser pockets as he thought how nothing seemed to be going right with the Maxwell Best case. Slowly he turned and looked out into the bullpen, where the constables were busy with one thing or another.
The Inspector walked to the door, "What had you found out, Crabtree?" he asked.
Crabtree looked up from his desk, "Sir!" the Constable jumped. "Councillor Best most certainly handled these ancient wonders," he proclaimed as his eyes drifted back while he admired the amulets. "There are other fingermarks on them as well, but we don't have those on record," he added as he slowly looked back at the Inspector.
"The others don't matter then," the Inspector stated. "We have Best where we need him," he seemed happy with the results. "Now we need to bring him in," he ticked his head as a hint.
"Oh, yes Sir," Crabtree nudged Higgins and the two constables quickly picked up their helmets and left the station. A sense of satisfaction swept over the Inspector as if he finally felt like he a contributed something positive to solving the bizarre case. With that, he walked back into his office and poured himself a small drink, then sat at this desk to further ponder the events of the day.
Meanwhile, William Murdoch concluded that the only way into the antiquities room was through the door, and only certain people had keys, and all had alibis that seemed solid, all except the janitor, Harry Parker. Murdoch decided to pay him another visit, this time he found the janitor in the hall just outside his room. Parker was busy sweeping the marble floor, "I'd like another word with you, Mr. Parker," the Detective requested.
"What about now?" Parker paused from what he was doing.
"You claim that Councillor Best paid you a visit last night. What was that about again?" Murdoch questioned.
"That old coot is trying buy votes for next year's election. He brought me a," Parker paused and studied the Detective, "a bottle," he shrugged slightly.
"Has he done this before?" Murdoch asked.
"Look, I could lose my job," Parker protested.
"If you don't answer to me, you might be answering in a court of law, and you will lose more than your job," Murdoch warned.
"Look, I didn't do anything wrong. This job is boring. I like visitors," Parker motioned with his hands that he was innocent of any wrong doing.
"Then you won't have any trouble telling me if Councillor Best has visited you before," Murdoch said.
Parker looked sheepish, "A few times. That's all," he sighed.
"Did you see him leave any of these times?" the Detective pushed.
Parker swallowed, "I can't remember," he shrugged.
Murdoch wasn't too happy with the answer realizing that Parker likely drank himself into a stupor every time. "That will be all for now," he concluded as he turned and walked away. He was anxious to hear what George Crabtree discovered with the amulets, so he headed back to Station House No. 4.
The Detective found the station rather quiet when he arrived. It then dawned on him that several of the constables where not at their desks in the bullpen. He glanced over to his boss' office and saw the Inspector at his desk. Murdoch walked over to the open door and rapped lightly on the jamb.
"Murdoch, you're back!" Brackenreid smiled.
"Did George find anything out?" the Detective cast a look back over his shoulder to the amulets that were spread across Crabtree's desk.
"As a matter of fact, he did," Brackenreid rose up from his desk, "and I've sent them out to bring Maxwell Best in for questioning," he said pleased with himself.
"I see," Murdoch smiled. "Very good Sir,"
"His mucky little fingermarks are all over those things," the Inspector point to the constable's desk past Murdoch.
"Very interesting indeed," Murdoch smiled. "It might seem we're close to solving this case after all," he noted.
"Don't curse it, Murdoch," Brackenreid scoffed as he sat back down at this desk. "I'm rather looking forward to hearing what Best has to say for himself," he resumed what he was doing.
"It should be interesting, that's for certain," the Detective said as he dismissed himself and went to his own office, where he discarded his hat to the coat rack. He sat at his desk and sorted through the known evidence that he had gathered to date.
Constables Crabtree and Higgins waited on the veranda in front of Councillor Best's house. Crabtree had knocked on the door a few minutes earlier and now they were waiting. They were certain that they could hear someone inside moving around but there was no sign that the door was about to be answered anytime soon. The sounds came from further in the building. Crabtree nudged Higgins to knock this time. "You knock now," he practically ordered.
Higgins made a face of disapproval but knocked anyway, this time, however, it was just as the door was being unlocked and opened, "Just what does the Toronto Constabulary want this time?" a very upset Florence Best asked curtly while holding the door slightly ajar.
"We'd like Mister Best to come with us to the station for questioning," Crabtree stated.
"What on earth for?" Florence huffed.
"We're in the middle of an investigation, and your husband maybe involved," Crabtree stated.
"Investigation into what?" Florence was getting more terse.
"Theft Madame," Crabtree quickly responded.
"That's preposterous! My husband is an upstanding member of this community and wouldn't stoop to a lowly act like that. He's not poor you know!?," she huffed and prepared to close the door in the faces of the two Constables, but Crabtree stuck his left foot between the door and jamb as she did. George grunted and grit his teeth, "Open the door Mrs. Best," he said firmly. Slowly Florence did open the door. "He's not here," she growled.
"Would he be at his office?" Higgins asked the safe question.
"I should imagine he is," Florence snapped and looked down at Crabtree's foot in the doorway. He quickly moved it and she slammed the door shut.
"That went well," Higgins smiled in his usual slightly simple way.
"Easy for you to say," Crabtree grunted as he lifted left foot, rubbing it before he flexed and set it back down on the veranda. "Come on," George grumbled as he limped slightly toward the road and their bicycles that were leaning against the large maple tree. The two men mounted their bikes and rode off in search of Councillor Maxwell Best.
