Ms. Herringford was all too keen to speak to the virtue in Mrs. Goldman’s opinions about police corruption, believing it strikes all too close to home. “Of course there were women and families and immigrants there. She speaks for all of us in a voice and with a volume that few around here dare to use.”
Of course, my next question was about police corruption. Ms. Herringford felt that Mrs. Goldman’s words rang all too loud and true. “Goldman speaks about the dangers of submission. To anything. Including the law, which helps propagate the myth that we can achieve any kind of social harmony. We may have police officers who would like to see the end to this uneven distribution of power, but no one ranked highly enough to do anything about it.”
Readers will make the immediate connection to her own practice as a lady detective. “If no one else will stomp out the injustice Goldman speaks about, then yes, I am happy to do my part.”
Jasper flung the paper aside and ran his hand through his hair, his face flushed and his eyes stinging from more than the bright lights of his station house office. He swallowed and then slowly stood, wondering why his world was turning around him. Needing air, he forced his way out of the station and onto the busy street, gulping in deep breaths.
Then he dashed back up the front steps and bellowed for Jones.
“I’m just off duty!” Jones said with a bright smile. “But I’m happy to start up the motorcar if you like!”
The young cop was always eager to drive Jasper wherever he needed to go. He looked up to his superior for more than his stature, and Jasper repaid him by trusting him, giving a good word on his behalf when the chief was in hearing distance, and treating him with an equality that other officers of Jones’s rank didn’t always merit.
Jasper’s thoughts were a flurry in the back of the automobile. Merinda was swept up by Goldman’s bellowing voice, and she didn’t hold to the same belief in God as he did. So where did she derive any sense of hope or purpose? Perhaps Skip was just taking liberties with her quotations. DeLuca was trustworthy when it came to ensuring the girls’ words were never taken out of context, but Skip might have… might have…
Except it sounded so very much like Merinda.
Jones steered onto busy Queen Street, swerving around the trolley track to avoid the construction he assured Jasper would slow their drive to King Street West.
“You all right, sir?” Jones asked.
Jasper recognized how agitated he must have seemed, shifting restlessly in the back. He kept his gaze out the window, watching pedestrians going about their day. One lithe figure walked with a purpose and stride he would recognize in any crowd.
“Pull over,” Jasper commanded hurriedly.
Jones swerved the automobile and slid up to the curb.
“You head on back, and I will see myself the rest of the way.”
“Right, sir!”
Jasper started in pursuit of Merinda, and the moment he caught up to her, he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.
“Jasper!” Her eyes flickered brightly and her cheeks were ruddy with exercise. Her countenance almost made him swallow his anger.
“Merinda, the Hog!” he called, assuming she would know exactly of what he spoke. He matched her stride then, slowed, drew her to the gate surrounding the lavish Osgoode Hall, and stopped her. The explosive set off here had done little damage compared to the Bathurst streetcar. Nonetheless, bluecoats and plainclothes officers still mingled over the manicured lawn.
“Was it in the paper today? Skip dashed out so quickly yesterday, what with DeLuca and… ”
“You’re proud of it!” Jasper chastised.
“I am always proud to see my name in print.” She tossed her head. “Which you very well know. Especially when my name is next to Emma Goldman’s!”
“I’ve never been anything but supportive of you, Merinda. I have risked humiliation from peers, have endured traffic duty as punishment for our association, have even jeopardized my job. Because I believe in you.” He noticed the smile leave her green-flecked eyes. “And I was foolish enough to think you believed in me too!”
Merinda reached to grab his sleeve, but he stepped back. “Of course I believe in you,” she said.
“Not if you also believe what you said about Goldman. Because that undermines my entire philosophy. I thought yours too. You have to believe in something, Merinda. Are you choosing to believe that we don’t need a law to govern us?”
“Not when the power rests in the hands of Montague and Spenser and… ”
“Merinda, you can’t twist Goldman’s own words to match Toronto’s specific situation.”
The ground shook around them, and before they could register what was happening, Jasper instinctively shoved Merinda down and behind him while he looked frantically about.
Another blast! It resounded like a cannon as smoke wafted toward them. Initial, silent shock was soon replaced with shrieks, with flurries of people dashing in all directions.