Authors: Barry Maitland
But Sundeep was in good form. The son of his friend, who had made the initial misdiagnosis, was off the hook, and during the course of vetting Colin Ringland’s laboratory, Sundeep had become friendly with the scientist, to the extent of agreeing to collaborate on the medical ramifications of the research into the poisoned wells. Now he was debating with Alex about the death of Lizzie Siddal, and whether the doctor who examined her could really have mistaken arsenic for laudanum as the cause of death. Alex had been reading up about the case and was intrigued by a number of aspects. What was the nature of the insanity that grew in Rossetti after Lizzie’s death? And why did he insist that he must on no account be buried in the same cemetery as her? But
Marion’s theory about the involvement of Madeleine Smith/Lena Wardle was frustratingly elusive. No complete copies of Marion’s paper to Cornell had surfaced, and without Haverlock’s diary it was impossible to test da Silva’s claim that it was nonsense.
It was almost midnight when they left the restaurant and went their separate ways. When Kathy got home she stripped the notes and images off her wall, then had a long shower. Only then did she look through the mail she’d picked up from her box. Among the envelopes was a letter from the UAE. It contained an airline ticket, first class, to Dubai and a very brief letter.
Dear Kathy
, it said,
Forgive me. Please come and let me make it up to you. Love, Guy
. She threw it in the bin.
Later, as she went around switching off the lights, she fished it out again, and looked at it for a while. Then she put it on the table and said softly, ‘Oh, what the hell.’