A Case of Doubtful Death (14 page)

Before she departed, Frances asked Mrs Georgeson if she knew whether Mackenzie had been carrying his bag when he left, but the landlady was unable to remember. As far as she was aware it was not in the house. She did, however, supply Frances with two missives that had recently arrived for Dr Mackenzie, one from Scotland, and the other she referred to as ‘another of those foreign letters’. Frances at once recognised Dr Kastner’s handwriting.

Frances hurried home, and Sarah was deputed to do what was required to extract the papers and then take the German letter to Cedric Garton for translation.

The letter from Scotland was, for reasons of bad handwriting, almost as indecipherable as the German one. It was addressed ‘Dear Mackenzie,’ and signed formally ‘S. Stuart MD’, and was written on the printed notepaper of the Aberdeen Hospital for Incurables, which Frances assumed was an establishment for the care of the elderly and dying. The first word, which she was unable to make out, was either Brook or Breck, or possibly even Brooker, and then it read ‘did not arrive. Please advise.’

Frances made a careful note of the content, including as precise a copy as she could make of the word she was finding so hard to decipher, and resealed the letter.

While Sarah was on her errand Frances received a visit from Mr Gillan. Having promised not to disclose what she knew about Mackenzie’s financial difficulties, she could say nothing about the matter, but Gillan could easily see that she was busy.

‘Do you have further clues about Palmer? Do tell!’

‘Well you may print that Mr Palmer, who was supposed to have been last seen walking south down Ladbroke Grove Road towards his home, was seen just a few minutes later walking in the opposite direction. Invite your readers to supply any information if they saw him that night. They will be detectives in their own easy chairs.’

Gillan smiled. ‘I like that, and so will they.’

‘And Mrs Pearson’s personal maid is missing.’

‘Mrs Pearson the banker’s wife?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. The woman is a termagant. She has a new maid every quarter. I think she eats them.’

‘Perhaps you might elaborate on that.’

He laughed. ‘Only that she would try a saint, and her girls always run off, usually in tears. But how are you involved in this?’

‘She has asked me to find the girl.’

‘Now that
is
unusual. Why should she bother when there are more maids to be had?’

‘She thinks the girl has been kidnapped. Or so she says.’

Gillan shook his head. ‘I wish you every success with that one.’

Frances wondered why everything was so complicated.

Sarah returned with a sheet of paper on which Cedric’s elegant sweeping hand had rendered Dr Kastner’s letter in English:

Dear Alastair

Following my last hopeful letter I am distressed to inform you that Friedrich has suffered a relapse and the doctors hold out very little hope for him. I have tried to speak to him but he is beyond anything now, and even if he has changed his mind he would be quite unable to say so or to give any instructions to that effect. I have made every effort to discover the identity of the solicitor with whom the documents were deposited but without success. And even if I was to find the man, I have no power to restrain him from carrying out his duty. If Friedrich was serious in his intentions the results could be catastrophic, and you would suffer far more than I. At this juncture I am at a loss to know what to do and would welcome your advice.

Assuring you of my friendship always

Ervin

Frances sent a note to Dr Bonner saying she had more letters for him to see, and was rewarded within the hour with an invitation to take tea. Sarah, meanwhile, determined to return to the Pearsons’ house.

When Frances arrived at Dr Bonner’s front door, a bustling lady with a vexed and ill-mannered expression pushed past her and departed in a carriage. Frances was shown into the parlour, which she found as elegant as many another person’s drawing room, and was introduced to Dr Bonner’s assistant, Mr Fairbrother. That gentleman was no more than twenty-two, tall, slender and neatly dressed, and, thought Frances, well-named, as he was not only exceedingly handsome but appeared to be quite unaffected by it. Needing no whiskers to conceal any weakness in his features, he was clean-shaven. While Frances admired a luxuriant moustache as much as the next woman, she could also appreciate faultless grooming, so much so that she began to find Mr Fairbrother’s appearance curiously distracting. Not liking to be distracted from her errand, she took care to rest her eyes as much as possible on the less pleasing countenance of Dr Bonner.

The prim maid served tea and coffee and departed, her manner as starchy as her apron. Bonner said that he would have liked to introduce Frances to his dear wife, who was from home, having just departed on an urgent errand, but hoped that they might meet at a future date, as her command of the tea table was so much better than his own. His deep regret at Mrs Bonner’s absence was tinged with a hint of relief.

Frances handed Bonner the German letter which he accepted as if unsure what to do with it, advising her that since he had written to Dr Kastner two days ago to inform him of Mackenzie’s death, she would not be troubled with similar letters in future.

Mr Fairbrother smiled with great charm and said that he did not speak German, but if there was any service he could offer to assist in the matter he would be delighted and honoured to do so.

Bonner opened the Scottish letter and frowned as he read it.

‘May I see?’ asked Frances and did not wait for his assent, but peered at it like an inquisitive aunt. ‘I see it is from a doctor in Scotland. It has always been of great surprise to me that in medical matters, where accuracy is so essential, the clarity of gentlemen’s handwriting is often wanting. Why, the first word in this letter quite defeats me. Do you think it has any bearing on Mr Palmer?’

‘I doubt it,’ said Bonner. ‘The word is a little hard to read but I suspect it may be “Books”. It seems likely that Mackenzie sent Dr Stuart a parcel of books that he did not receive. I will write to him and discover what it was he requested and see that he has them.’

‘I don’t suppose either of you gentlemen, or Dr Warrinder or Mr Hemsley, has seen Dr Mackenzie’s travelling bag?’ Frances asked.

‘Travelling bag?’ said Bonner, ‘– oh, I know the item you mean – no, I don’t recall seeing it.’

‘You didn’t find it when you looked through his effects after his death?’

‘No, I’m afraid I didn’t.’

‘Was he perhaps carrying it on the night he died? Might he have brought it to the Life House and left it there?’

‘I don’t recall. I didn’t see it.’

‘But when he went away to give a lecture, and intended to stay overnight, if he called in at the Life House on his way there, he would have been carrying the bag on such occasions?’

‘Yes, he would,’ agreed Bonner. ‘I will ask Dr Warrinder and Mr Hemsley, only they would have known it to be Dr Mackenzie’s property and have handed it to me. Mr Fairbrother, you have not seen a travelling bag – leather, well-used?’

Mr Fairbrother regretted that he had not seen it.

‘But surely,’ said Bonner, ‘Mackenzie would not have been carrying it that night as he had no intention of – oh I see what you mean. He might have been about to go away and not mentioned it to me. Oh dear! The foolish man! I am sure I could have helped him out of any difficulty if he had asked me.’ The doctor shook his head. ‘There could be a simpler explanation, I suppose. It was a very old bag, perhaps he threw it away.’

Frances thought for a few moments, then she presented Dr Bonner with her notebook and pencil. ‘May I ask you to draw a ground plan of the Life House?’

He was surprised but complied, and as he did so Frances sipped her tea and smiled at Mr Fairbrother, who sipped coffee and smiled back. ‘I read in the
Chronicle
 …’ he began.

‘Oh, the
Chronicle
spins a wonderful tale,’ she replied.

‘It says that you are the most celebrated detective in Bayswater.’

Frances found her cheeks becoming uncomfortably warm. ‘I have been fortunate recently in solving some mysteries which have attracted a great deal of attention,’ she said. ‘But I have not courted notoriety, in fact I have sought to avoid it.’

‘Oh, I am quite sure of that – I hear that you are greatly admired, not only for your skill, but for your discretion.’

‘That is very flattering,’ said Frances, with a quaver in her voice.

‘Ahem!’ interrupted Dr Bonner. ‘I have completed the drawing.’

Frances took it from him, grateful for the interruption, and studied it carefully. ‘Now this is the main entrance on the eastern side. And only the doctors and orderlies have the keys, and only they or medical visitors are permitted to enter that way?’

‘That is correct.’

‘I see that immediately on entering the main door, there is a small antechamber.’

‘Yes, we call it the office. There is a desk where the orderly may sit to do his paperwork, a cabinet with surgical equipment and materials, and a place where coats and umbrellas and galoshes may be left.’

‘Then an inner door leads from the office to the ward.’

‘Yes, that again is locked and secure.’

‘When Dr Mackenzie arrived on the night of his death, did he use the main entrance?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘And you told me earlier that when he arrived you were in the ward with Mr Palmer?’

‘I was.’

‘So if Dr Mackenzie had been carrying his bag that night, would he have left it in the office, or would he have carried it into the ward with him?’

‘Ah, I see what you mean. Yes, he would have left it in the office, and I would, therefore, have been unaware that he had it with him.’

‘Now, there then followed the unhappy death of Dr Mackenzie. And you decided that as there was to be a viewing the next day, his body should be removed to the chapel. This may be reached two ways, it has its own side entrance for use by the public, and there is also a door connecting it with the ward. Is that connecting door kept locked?’

‘Oh yes, always, and the same persons who have the keys to the main door are the only ones who have the key to it.’

‘How was Dr Mackenzie’s body carried to the chapel – did you and Mr Palmer use the connecting door?’

‘Yes, we did. Palmer unlocked the door, brought out the wheeled stretcher, lifted the body onto it, and took him through. I was able to afford him only a little assistance. My old affliction, the gout, was especially troublesome that evening.’

‘So once the body had been placed in a coffin, Palmer left to go to see Mrs Georgeson. Which door did he use?’

‘He would have gone through the office as his coat was there and he had to sign the record book to show that his period of duty had ended. Oh I see – that is very perceptive Miss Doughty, and I had not thought of it – if Mackenzie had left his bag there, then Palmer would have seen it.’

‘And if he
had
seen it, would he have known it belonged to Dr Mackenzie?’

‘Oh, undoubtedly.’

‘So he might have picked it up?’

‘He might have done, but I would not have seen him do it as I was still in the chapel. But why would he do such a thing?’

‘He might have thought that as he was going to see Mrs Georgeson he should take it to her. Of course, it ought to have been left for you as Dr Mackenzie’s executor, but in the excitement of the moment Mr Palmer might not have considered that.’

Bonner nodded. ‘That is possible.’ Out of the corner of her eye Frances saw Mr Fairbrother, his coffee forgotten, the cup held suspended halfway to his lips, watching her with great attention.

‘And then you were left alone in the Life House and some while later Mr Darscot arrived.’

‘Yes. He said that he had come from seeing Mrs Georgeson, who had given him the sad news, and he wanted to see Dr Mackenzie’s body. I told him there would be a viewing the next morning and if he could return at ten he would be very welcome, but he insisted and as he seemed very upset, I agreed.’

‘And he both came and left by the chapel door, and never entered the ward or the office?’