Read The Widow's Demise for Free Online Page A

with
it.”
    “You thought I was worth pursuing till my
father went bankrupt.”
    “That’s not fair, Constance. I just decided
that we were not meant for each other after all.”
    “After a three-month engagement?”
    “You know how sorry I was to have to break it
off.”
    “How could I explain it to my friends? You
left me in a terrible state.”
    “Better that than a lifetime of
unhappiness.”
    “I consoled myself with the knowledge that
you would soon tire of a woman who is faithless and unreliable, a
woman of questionable virtue who would soon throw you over.”
    “Well, that hasn’t happened. I just spent a
lovely afternoon with the lady.”
    “Some lady. I saw her this morning out riding
with Lionel Trueman. And she was cozying up to him like some
shameless hussy.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “You don’t stand a chance against someone
like Trueman.”
    “Well, he may not be around much longer to
challenge me,” Macy said with some pride.
    “And why is that?”
    “He and I are going to duel tomorrow
morning.”
    Constance’s jaw dropped. “You’re crazier than
I thought.”
    “The lady doesn’t think so.”
    “Well, then, you’re welcome to her.”
    Constance got up and put her coat on. “I see
I shouldn’t have come here after all.”
    At the door she said, “That woman is wicked.
Somebody should do something about her.”
    ***
    The sun rose on a clear, cool morning, except for a
touch of ground mist that was soon burned off. Horace Macy and
Lionel Trueman arrived with their seconds at the cricket grounds on
the north-west edge of town. The grounds were surrounded by mature
trees, which afforded the duellists a modest amount of cover for
the clandestine, and illegal, activity. Each man had brought his
own pistol, and the weapons were now being examined by the seconds.
Macy had brought his clerk with him, and Trueman a close friend.
The seconds pretended to scrutinize the weapons with an expert
eye.
    “Everything seems in order,” said the clerk
confidently.
    “I agree,” said the friend.
    “Each man will step off ten paces, then
turn,” said the clerk. “When I drop the handkerchief, each man will
fire.”
    “And may the best man win,” Macy said.
    “I trust you are prepared to die,” Trueman
said. “And my honour will be satisfied.”
    “You are without honour,” Macy said.
    “Gentlemen,” said Trueman’s second, “do not
restart the quarrel we are here to adjudicate.”
    “Ten paces each,” the clerk said.
    With their backs to each other and pistols
cocked, the two duellists began to pace away from each other,
counting the steps aloud. At ten they turned and held their pistols
up. A handkerchief fluttered in the breeze.
    “That’s enough, gentlemen. Put the pistols
down.”
    All eyes turned towards the new arrivals. It
was Detective-Constable Cobb in plain clothes and a uniformed
Constable Ewan Wilkie.
    “This isn’t what you think,” said the clerk,
dropping the handkerchief.
    “How do you know what I’m thinkin’,” Cobb
said, coming up to him but keeping a wary eye on Lionel Trueman’s
pistol. “But I know a duel when I see one.”
    “Why can’t you mind your own business and
leave us be?” Trueman said.
    “Illegal duellin’ is my business,”
Cobb said. “And if you don’t want me to haul you off to jail,
you’ll put that pistol away right now.”
    By this time Wilkie had reached Trueman, and
he took the man’s pistol and fired it into the air.
    “Do the same with yours,” Cobb ordered Macy.
“And don’t go killin’ no birds.”
    Macy, looking scared, shot his pistol off
harmlessly.
    “Now get over here all of you. I got
somethin’ to say,” Cobb barked.
    Macy and Trueman joined the seconds in the
middle of the grounds.
    “I’m gonna pretend I caught you two havin’
target practice,” Cobb said, “if you’ll swear off this foolishness
fer good. If I’d’ve been a minute later, I’d be chargin’ one of you
with murder. One