Half a Mind TO Murder (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Mysteries Book 3) (3 page)

“
Please don’t worry, Mrs. Leander,” Alexandra said, trying to comfort her. “You’re sure to be safe here in your home. I’m certain it must have been that Ben put himself in danger by being out late at night in places you would never be.”

Her words were of little comfort to the woman, however, and Alexandra knew that she would be even more difficult to comfort once the gossip about the Pendennises reached her. Yet, all of Mrs. Leander
’s fears, as well as those of everyone else, were not without reason. The shocking details of the murder were enough to strike terror in anyone.

Having only those three patients to visit, Alexandra finished her work earlier than usual, but her concern over the murder as well as the
rapidly spreading gossip left her feeling as exhausted as she might have been after seeing three times the number of patients. If the frightened mood among the villagers escalated even more, she feared Lucas and his mother’s safety could be at stake.

She r
ode her little mare, Lucy, home as Zack followed alongside. They arrived an hour before Alexandra would have to open the surgery for walk-in patients. She looked forward to a few relaxing moments enjoying a quiet conversation with Nancy over lunch. Nothing would please her more than talking about something as mundane as Nancy’s garden. She was quite expert at growing some of the herbs Alexandra needed for medications as well as lovely flowers and vegetables. Perhaps there would even be some beans fresh from the garden for lunch.

As soon as they entered the front door, Zack lumbered over to his favorite spot near the hearth, and Alexandra started upstairs to her room. She was part way up when she heard voices coming from the kitchen. One of the voices was
Nancy’s, but the other, a female voice, was not familiar. She started to ignore it, but, decided to have a look, since the voice might belong to a patient whom Nancy had, for some reason, taken into the kitchen with her.

As she opened the kitchen door, it was
Polly Cobbe’s plump and pleasant face she saw. Polly was seated at the table with a cup of tea. She had been chatting with Nancy, who was busy stirring a pot on the stove.

Nancy
turned around from the stove, a look of guilty surprise on her face. “Miss Alex. You’re home early.”

“
Yes, I had only three patients to visit,” Alexandra said, not taking her eyes off of Polly. “What a pleasant surprise to see you,” she said.

Polly stood quickly.
“Thank you, Dr. Gladstone, but I’m sure I must be going now. Sherry was kind enough to allow me some time away, since I, too, finished my work early, but I mustn’t take advantage.” Her voice and manner of speaking, as Alexandra had always noticed, were refined and educated. She felt the same pang of regret that Nancy had expressed earlier, that Polly was now reduced to the job as charwoman in the Blue Ram.

“
But you won’t be taking advantage,” Nancy insisted. “Didn’t you say Sherry said you could have the entire afternoon?”

Polly looked slightly embarrassed.
“Well, yes, but—”

“
Please do stay,” Alexandra heard herself saying, in spite of her earlier resolve for a quiet lunch with Nancy. “It would be so pleasant to have you for luncheon.”

“
Oh no, I mustn’t. I know you’re very busy, and I—”

“
Nonsense!” Nancy was already placing three plates on the table. “We’ll have a nice little chat together, won’t we?”

“
Of course we will,” Alexandra said, settling in to one of the chairs. “But we shan’t talk about the murder. I’ve had quite enough of that for one day.”

Nan
cy placed a cup of tea in front of her. “Of course we won’t. Far too gruesome for luncheon conversation.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Alexandra spoke again.
“Please, do go on with whatever your conversation was before I interrupted.”

Nancy
, who had seated herself next to Alexandra and across from Polly, cleared her throat nervously. “We were…ah, talking about the murder. I was just saying how odd the circumstances. The condition of the body, I mean. The heart missing. Truly odd.”

“
But of course you’re right, Dr. Gladstone,” Polly added. “It’s hardly the proper thing for luncheon conversation.”

“
Indeed!” Nancy nodded her agreement with enthusiasm. “Anyway, ’tis plain to see how stressful ’tis been for you, Miss Alex. I’d wager it was all your patients could talk about. I suppose people think they have the awful business of the crime solved by now, and they all feel obligated to give you their opinion.”

“
Mmmm,” Alexandra said, taking another sip of her tea and wishing they truly could get off the subject.

There was another moment of silence with no sound except silver clinking against china until
Nancy could hold still no longer. “So who is the favored suspect?” she asked.

Alexandra gave her a stony look, then took a deep breath, put down her fo
rk, and relented. “They’re saying it’s the work of a madman—or woman.” She glanced at Polly. “I’m sure you’ve heard this as well. It’s all they could talk about in the Blue Ram.”

“
I try as best as I can to stay away from the customers and their conversations,” Polly said with a sad look in her eyes.

“
Of course,” Alexandra said, feeling distressed.

“
Any one in particular?” the intrepid Nancy asked.

Alexandra sighed and looked at
Nancy, realizing she should have expected her curiosity and insistence. “The blames appears currently to fall upon Lucas Pendennis and his mother.”

“
Not Miss Pendennis. And Lucas, too?” Polly sounded distressed. At the same time Nancy inhaled audibly, expressing her alarm.

“
I’m afraid so,” Alexandra said.

“
But why?” Polly asked.

“
Of course.” Nancy said before Alexandra could respond. “The murder seems so obviously the work of a madman, so they’re blaming poor Lucas, who’s not mad at all.”

A puzzled frown creased Polly
’s forehead. “And neither is Miss Pendennis.”

“
There are those who think she is,” Alexandra said after an awkward silence. “She gave birth to her son out of wedlock.”

“
Oh yes, of course,” Polly said. “We merely laugh behind our hand at a man’s indiscretions and condemn a woman to Bethlem for the same thing.” Her words came out sounding more forlorn than bitter.

“
I’m afraid that is sometimes the case,” Alexandra said, picking up her fork and wishing again they could talk of something else.

Polly pushed her plate back, apparently having lost all interest in her meal.
“What I know of Miss Pendennis leads me to believe that she is a truly virtuous woman. She is a good and loving mother and a conscientious worker. Why, practically all the customers who used to come into the apothecary always said they’d never seen finer lace than hers. And I myself know her to possess the virtues of kindness and generosity.”

Nancy
nodded without looking up from her plate.

“
I’m afraid her one indiscretion completely ruined her reputation,” Alexandra said, sawing away at the boiled meat.

“
Ah yes, reputation,” Polly said. “Women must mind their reputations more than their morality. Rather like turning attention to the show instead of the substance, isn’t it?”

Alexand
ra turned her glance suddenly toward Polly. “You sound as if you’ve read Rousseau.”

“‘
What is thought of a woman is as important to her as what she really is,’” Nancy, who had also read Rousseau, quoted.

“
Important to her because it is important to others,” Polly said. “We should never have heard of Lucretia had she died to preserve her virtue instead of her reputation.”

“
We have a bluestocking amongst us.” Alexandra said, both amused and pleased.

“
I have not always been a charwoman,” Polly said.

“
And so should you not be now.” Nancy sounded agitated.

Polly breathed a resigned sigh.
“I assumed Mr. Neill’s apprentice would always be there to carry on at the apothecary and there’d be no need for me to look elsewhere for work.”

“
Clyde Wright?” Nancy rolled her eyes. “That ne’er do well? Some nerve he had, leaving in the middle of the night without notice. You’re better off not working for him.”

“
I can’t say I’m certain of that,” Polly said. “I only know that decent positions are rare in Newton-Upon-Sea. I have a small savings from my employment at the apothecary, but not enough, I’m afraid, to get me to London to find suitable work. My hope is to save enough at my current job.”

Alexandra didn
’t fail to catch the glance, fraught with meaning, Nancy threw at her. She might have been forced to embarrass herself and Polly as well by having to admit she could not afford to offer her enough work to sustain her, had not the bell on the surgery door rung.

It was Lucas Pendennis. He was carrying something bloody and encru
sted with dirt. It looked very much like a human heart, and behind him his mother cried uncontrollably.

Chapter
Three

Constable Robert Snow preferred to stand when he questioned a prisoner or a suspect, whom he always made sure was seated. Perhaps it was
a carryover from the days when he had been the schoolmaster in Newton-Upon-Sea. He had learned then that his substantial height could be even more intimidating if he made the misbehaving student sit while he towered over him. It was not that Constable Snow was fond of intimidation, but he was most certainly fond of order and discipline.

He had never in his career, either as a teacher or an officer of the law, had to deal with a half-wit, however. Lucas Pendennis, the stocky, dark-haired boy, who sat in fron
t of him now, was testimony to the fact that he lacked the skill to question such a person effectively. Dr. Gladstone waited quietly in one of the chairs to his left, and beside her, sobbing uncontrollably, was the boy’s mother, a petite woman with hair the color of corn silk and eyes like deep blue lakes. It was Dr. Gladstone who had brought the boy and his mother to his office, along with some putrid smelling thing that sat in a crockery bowl covered with a linen towel on his desk.

He was very much aware
of Dr. Gladstone’s scrutiny of him as he spoke to Lucas. It gave him an odd feeling to know that she was assessing his skills, especially since, in the past, it had been he who was charged with assessing hers. When he was still a schoolmaster, her father and his good friend, the late Dr. Huntington Gladstone, had hired him as a tutor for his daughter, since, quite naturally, being female, she was not allowed to attend school. Gladstone had also allowed his daughter’s young companion and servant, Nancy, to sit in on the lessons.

“
Very well, Lucas,” Snow said, doing his best to ignore Dr. Gladstone’s careful attention as well as the other woman’s sobs. “You have told me you found the organ buried in the ground…”

Lucas gave him a blank look.

Snow pointed to the crockery. “That” The one word sounded condescending, rather than full of exaggerated patience, as he had intended.

Lucas nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Oh yes. I found it where the truffles is.” He sat very straight in his chair, unlike Snow’s usual suspects or former students, who usually cowered in fear.

“
Yes, among the truffles. Now tell me, please, what led you to excavate that specific area?”

Lucas gave Snow a slack-jawed stare for several seconds before he turned his gaze to his mother, this time
with a puzzled expression.

It was Dr. Gladstone who spoke to him, however, since his mother
’s quiet sobs made it impossible for her to speak. “Why were you digging there, Lucas?” Dr. Gladstone kept her voice low and her tone gentle.

“’
Cause,” Lucas said, speaking to Dr. Gladstone.

“
Because of what?” she said, coaxing him, still with gentleness.

Lucas shrugged and looked at the ceiling.

Snow felt a stab of impatience mingled with despair, but he pushed his emotions aside, determined to accomplish his goal. “Did you know it was there, Lucas?”

“
What?” Lucas said, still looking at the ceiling.

Snow
’s spine grew involuntarily tense, but he forced himself to relax. “The organ you excava—the organ you dug out of the ground. That one.” Snow pointed again to the bowl on his desk. “The one you brought to Dr. Gladstone.”

“
That?” Lucas asked, also pointing to the bowl.

“
Yes, Lucas.”

“
That’s a heart. It ain’t no organ, ’tis a heart.”

“
Of course.” The long, well tapered fingers of Snow’s hands met under his chin as he looked down at Lucas’s face.

“’
Tis a heart, and I’m going to keep it.” Lucas spoke emphatically, but his gaze drifted about the room.

His mother stopped her sobbing and stared at him, her eyes wide with horror.

“Lucas, look at me, please.” Snow’s voice shook slightly from the strain of forced patience. When Lucas turned his eyes toward him, he continued. “Whose heart is it?” Lucas ignored his question and stood up suddenly, going toward the table, his hands extended toward the crockery. Snow grabbed his arm, restraining him. Dr. Gladstone and the boy’s mother, both alarmed, stood as well.

“
Let me go.” Lucas said, struggling. “It’s mine. I found it, so it’s mine.”

“
How did you know it was there?” Snow asked.

“
Lucas!” Miss Pendennis cried before he could answer. She reached for her son, but Dr. Gladstone held her back.

At the same time Lucas spoke.
“I put it there. That’s how I knowed. It’s mine, and I can do what I want with it.”

There was an anguished cry from Miss Pendennis, and Sn
ow’s breath came in short gasps, which he had to control in order to speak. “You put it there?” His mind was reeling. Was it going to be that easy to solve the case? Would a half-wit’s confession hold up under the law?

“
The boy doesn’t understand, Constable Snow,” Dr. Gladstone said, still holding on to Miss Pendennis, who once again was wailing.

“
Please sit down, ladies,” Snow had to shout to be heard above the noise. When he saw that both women had obeyed him and that Dr. Gladstone had managed to quiet the hysterical woman once more, he turned back to Lucas. “Listen to me carefully, Lucas. I want you to tell me how you got the org…the heart in the first place.”

Lucas stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Where did you get the heart?” Snow said again, enunciating each word.

“
Out of here,” Lucas said, pointing to his chest.

“
Out of your own chest?”

Lucas laughed and looked down at his intact chest.

“Lucas!” Snow spoke sharply to get the boy’s attention and to distract him from his laughter. It worked. The boy’s eyes locked onto his own. “You would have to cut that heart out of a person. Is that how you got it? Did you cut it out?”

Lucas
’ eyes became unfocused for a moment as if he had moved his soul to another location, but he slowly rejoined himself and brought his attention back to Snow. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “I think so.”

“
Did you cut it from the body of Ben Milligan?” Snow’s words went unheard as Miss Pendennis’ keening filled the room and frightened Lucas so much that he ran to her and encircled her with his arms.

“
I’m sorry, Mum. I won’t do it again,” he said.

“
Surely you know this boy hasn’t the skill for such an expert surgery,” Dr. Gladstone said in the same instant.

Snow ignored her and watched the boy and his mother, overwhelmed for a moment by the need to walk away. A mother
’s grief was never easy for him to witness, and the very sordid nature of this entire case was repulsive to him. This was not the sort of thing he had expected when he traded his life as a schoolmaster for that of a constable. And this was not the first time he had wondered if he had made the right decision, until he reminded himself of the reason he had taken the position. The higher salary was attractive, especially given his constant and increasing need for more money.

“
Miss Pendennis,” he said, forcing any sign of emotion from his voice and steeling himself for her response. “I shall have to place your son under arrest.” There, he had said it, and the woman was yawling as Dr. Gladstone did her best to comfort her while she continued to protest that the boy did not have the skills. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, knowing the unpleasantness would pass, knowing, too, that he had done his duty. After all, he as good as had a confession from the boy. The courts would decide whether or not he was capable of the removal. Whether he was or not, it was highly likely his mental state would keep him from the gallows. He would go to an asylum where he would be better off, and his mother would adjust to his absence. Women were resilient in that way. Perhaps the boy’s temporary incarceration in the gaol would be best at the moment anyway, given the frightened mood of the citizenry. Snow was well aware that most of them blamed the insane act on the poor imbecile. He knew, too, that a select few even targeted his unfortunate mother.

In Snow
’s mind, there was no need to consider her a suspect, since he had one in hand who had made a confession and who had provided circumstantial evidence as well. He would not consider the mother even in the light of her alleged madness. The common malady of so-called uterine insanity, with which she was said to be cursed, was something he knew little of, and, further, preferred not to know.

He was happy to see that Dr. Gladstone was administering to the woman, offering her comforting words as well as the contents of some mysterious vial she had pulled from her bag. He was dismayed, however, when, just as he was lea
ding a confused but docile Lucas away, Dr. Gladstone called out to him.

“
Yes, Doctor,” he said, turning to face her.

“
Surely you know, sir, that Lucas’ confession means nothing. He doesn’t understand what is happening, and I dare say that under the right circumstances, he would confess to murdering the queen.”

“
I am well aware of the prisoner’s mental state, Dr. Gladstone.,” Snow said, keeping his tone of voice well controlled. “There is certainly reason to expect that the amount of responsibility that is exacted from him under the law will not be comparable to that of a sane person.”

“
You are judging him guilty without benefit of due process.”

He remembered now how, as a student, she could sometimes be rather trying with her constant challenging.
“I am neither judge nor jury, Miss Alexandra. My judgment extends only to the point of reasonable suspicion. My judgment also requires me to consider the safety of the suspect.” He was aware that he had used the form of address for her he had used when she was his student, rather than her well-earned title of doctor. He did not apologize or attempt to correct himself, however, in spite of the fact that he could see in her eyes that she expected it.

He saw her hesitate for a moment before she spoke.
“If you are considering Lucas’s well-being, then surely you know incarceration is seldom conducive to health.” It was a brave attempt, but her voice sounded considerably less self-assured. She was obviously aware of the need for Lucas’ safety as well as he. That brief betrayal of weakness gave him the opportunity for the last word.

“
And surely your profession has taught you that what is or is not conducive to one’s health or well-being is sometimes a matter of degree.” He grasped Lucas’ arm and led him through the doorway to the gaol.

Alexandra saw Gweneth Pendennis to her home and gave her laudanum as a sedative, then stayed with her until she was asleep. It would take more than laudanum to ease her distress permanently, however. She would need reassurance that Lucas would not be harmed and could be returned safely to her. Alexandra left, planning to return early the next morning. She was not at all certain how she would manage to reassure her in light of the undeniably grim prospects for the boy.

It was very late when she r
eturned to her house, yet she was not at all surprised to see a light burning in the parlor—a sign that Nancy was still awake and waiting for her. She would want to know everything that had happened. It was just as well, Alexandra thought, since sleep would not come easily for her now.

Neither Nancy nor Zack greeted her as she opened the front door, a fact which surprised her. She knew the reason as soon as she stepped into the parlor. Polly Cobbe was still there, seated on one of the damask settees while Z
ack rested his head in her lap and Nancy sat across from her. It might have been an altogether pleasant and cozy scene had it not been for Polly’s pale face and the frightened look in her eyes.

“
What a pleasant surprise to find you still here,” Alexandra said.

“
I asked her to stay.” Nancy’s voice had a note of defensiveness. “As you can imagine, she’s quite upset as a result of all that’s—”

“
Forgive me.” Polly pushed Zack’s head from her lap and stood. “Nancy has been so very kind, and she’s right, of course, I am upset, but I know I must be going. I have my work tomorrow. But first,” she added, “please do tell me what happened with young Lucas.”

Alexandra slumped into a chair, feeling suddenly exhausted.
“I’m afraid young Lucas is in gaol.”

Nancy
sprang to her feet. “I was afraid of that. Some people can be so terribly narrow minded.”

Polly shook her head in disbelief.
“That can’t be. Surely no one can believe he would—”

“
Unfortunately, he as much as confessed.” Alexandra’s voice sounded weary even to her own ears.

“
Confessed?” Polly looked troubled. “No, not Lucas. He’s an imbecile. No one will believe a confession from him.” She’d grown quite agitated.

Alexandra stood instinctively to comfort her.
“You’re right, of course.” She placed an arm around her shoulder. “The poor boy had no idea to what he was confessing. One would hope the courts will take his mental condition into consideration.”