The Trainmasters (21 page)

“Yes, I’m sorry to say,” Kitty said. Then she changed her mind about telling her that, thinking to reassure her. “I mean,
Teresa, I don’t know. Truly I don’t. That’s why Graham’s father went up there with my father. They are both engineers. They
hope to be able to find a way to save anyone who is trapped in the tunnel… and who is still alive.”

“There’s no hope for him,” Teresa said. “I know there’s none. I know he is dead.”

Kitty moved closer to Teresa and wrapped her arms around her because she could not think of anything else she could say or
do that would either comfort or reassure the younger woman.

But then Bridget reappeared, along with Dr. Fleming, and Kitty gratefully put aside the problem of the tunnel for the sake
of the more immediate problem of Graham Carlysle’s bullet wound.

Dr. Fleming was a massive man of about fifty, with a great, jowly head and skimpy, yellowish gray hair. Though he was at first
cheerful and pleasant in manner, he turned out to be also a meddlesome troublemaker who took evident delight in attempting
to intimidate a pair of women who had waked him from a sound sleep in the darkest hours of the morning. He insisted on hearing
a quick, condensed version of Teresa’s story before he examined and treated Graham.

“We have, you must be aware ladies, the likelihood of the commission of a felony,” he said, “and I must therefore know what
happened before I can begin to deal with the patient.”

Kitty was not happy about the delay, but she realized that arguing would take longer than obliging him. So Teresa told him
what happened.

When she first mentioned Ben Kean’s involvement in the incident, Dr. Fleming clucked and shook his head. “Ah yes, Ben Kean.
I know Ben. Know him well. Bad to tangle with him. Very bad,” he said, looking searchingly at Teresa. He was clearly judging
her, and when she reached the part about the fight in the stonemason’s yard, he looked at her with hard eyes once again. “This
is a most serious affair,” he announced. “Very bad. But then
cherchez la femme
. Oh yes,
cherchez la femme
… Ah women, women. They’ll be the death of us all.” He looked significantly at Teresa one more time when he said that, but
he added nothing else by way of explanation. And Kitty was more anxious for him to care for the wound than to learn what was
on the doctor’s mind. Sensing that Teresa might need comfort at this moment, Kitty went to her and briefly embraced her. The
girl sagged gratefully against her.

Doctor Fleming examined Graham, and to Kitty and Teresa’s great relief, he pronounced that Graham’s puncture was not dangerous.
“He’s a very lucky young man,” the doctor said. “If the bullet had pierced his liver or any part of his intestine, we would
be praying for his soul.” Then he cleansed the wound with the water Kitty had boiled. And after that, he took some of his
instruments from his bag and laid them out on a clean towel that Bridget had provided. Graham, by this time, was wide awake
and clearly apprehensive, even though he knew he was almost out of grievous danger.

“I think the boy should have some whiskey,” the doctor said. “What I have to do next will cause him pain.”

Kity went to a cabinet and took a bottle out. Then she lifted Graham’s head up from the pillow so that he could drink from
it.

After Graham had absorbed enough alcohol to make him semiconscious, Dr. Fleming gave him a hard piece of india rubber to hold
between his teeth. Then he probed gently with his instruments until he found and removed the slug.

Graham moaned with pain during the operation. And once the agony caused him to spit out the rubber mouthpiece and cry out.
When his screams showed no sign of letting up, Kitty poured more whiskey down his throat, while Teresa retrieved the mouthpiece,
reinserted it, and stroked Graham’s head with her hand, soothing him as much as she could with her voice.

Later, when the operation was over and Graham had fallen into a restless sleep, the doctor helped himself to a glass of the
whiskey that had been used to anesthetize Graham. Then he planted himself in a large, comfortable, upholstered chair. Once
he had swallowed enough to nearly anesthetize himself, he turned to Kitty and Teresa and looked eagerly and expectantly at
them.

“Now that the boy is safe,” he said, “I think you owe me the entire story of how he was shot.”

Teresa was not at all eager to repeat the story yet one more time. “There really isn’t very much more to say to you than I’ve
already told you,” she said, with more than a trace of anger in her voice. “It’s a very simple thing: Graham and I were spending
the evening together, and Ben Kean found us. And then Matthew joined him. Graham and I decided to try to avoid trouble… They
chased us. And there’s nothing more to say.”

“Yes, I know, girl,” the doctor said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity
and
contempt; he obviously did not like Teresa O’Rahilly. “You’ve told me that once. But do humor an old man and go through your
tale again, will you? And do it carefully. I am especially interested in your… um… previous relationship with Ben Kean.” He
stared at her. “You did have a previous relationship with Ben Kean, did you not?”

Kitty did not like Dr. Fleming’s attack upon the two of them. He obviously knew Ben Kean, but she didn’t know what that meant.

“Dr. Fleming,” Kitty said, “could we leave this conversation for another time? We are all tired, and I would like to sleep.
And I’m sure Teresa would like some sleep, as well.”

“Mrs. Lancaster,” Dr. Fleming said in a lecturer’s voice, “let me explain. There is likely to be an official inquiry into
this lamentable affair. If so, it is encumbent upon me, as the attending physician, to know all the pertinent facts.”

“I’m sure,” Kitty said, in her best placating voice. “But later. Surely all this can wait until tomorrow.”

“No, no, no,” the doctor said. “Now is the perfect time … when the details are still fresh.”

“What difference does it really make?” she persisted.

Doctor Fleming rambled on. “Even if there is no official inquiry, the Keans are a powerful and prominent family. I think you’d
best come out with the whole story. Make a clean breast of it. Let’s have it, then.”

Kitty was about to make a further objection, but Teresa spoke up before she could get the words out.

“Never mind,” she said, with a reluctant shrug. “I can tell him one more time. Why not?” And so she repeated the story.

As soon as she mentioned the two Kean brothers, Dr.

Fleming raised his hand to stop her. “As I said earlier, I know Ben Kean. Indeed, I know all the Keans quite well,” he said.
“I have treated the family since before the boys were pups. A fine family, most of them. The father is all right… hard and
bad tempered at times, but all right. And I like Matthew; he’s like his father, a younger version, one might say. Ben is trouble,
however. He’s weak. And he’s much too dependent on the fairer sex.” He stopped and looked searchingly at Teresa.

Kitty then realized that, to her horror, she had the Keans’ family doctor attending John’s son. She knew Dr. Fleming could
hardly be an impartial judge of the situation and would most likely rush to the Keans’ defense if the need arose.

“Knowing the Keans as I do, and knowing women as I do,” he said, turning to Kitty, “I have a hypothesis about this affair
tonight.” He paused dramatically. “It is, briefly, this: Ben Kean did not deserve to die. He was drawn to his death by this
woman.”

Teresa looked up at him sharply.

“That was quite a look, miss,” Fleming said to her. “Ferocious. You are quite a ferocious young thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, but her voice still tinged with anger. “I didn’t mean to give that impression.”

“Don’t apologize, miss,” the doctor said, staring at her as though she was an insect impaled by a pin. “Tell me about your
connection with Ben Kean. Explain yourself, girl.”

The doctor looked at her with scalpel eyes. “Go ahead,” he pursued relentlessly. “I’ve asked you several times about the relationship
between Ben Kean and yourself,” he said.

“I knew Ben,” she admitted.

“Is that why he—as you put it—pursued you and harassed you this evening?”

She turned away from him. “Don’t make me talk about this,” she said.

“Answer me, child,” he said with a voice like razors.

“Some time ago, he asked me to marry him,” she said.

“And you told him at that time that you would be his wife,” he said, a triumphant expression beginning slowly to dawn on his
face.

“No!” she cried. “I told him that was impossible.”

He looked at Kitty Lancaster. “Do you begin to see what I am getting at? Do you see who is the true cause of this evening’s
tragedy? She is,” he said, pointing a stubby finger at Teresa as if he were a prosecuting attorney. “Poor Ben Kean tried to
retrieve his intended wife, and he was killed in the attempt.”

“That’s not true!” Teresa said. “It’s simply not true. Ben followed us. And when he found us, he tried to kill Graham,” she
said. “There was a scuffle, and now Ben is dead. 1 don’t know whether Ben Kean deserved to die or not. But it was not my doing.
He certainly brought it upon himself.”

“My, my,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “Here were two young men fighting over you, two strong young bucks. Over
you
, my girl. How admirable! Well, well, well. Does that make you feel powerful, wench? Do you like young men to fight over you?
Are you not glad?”

“Of course not!” she snapped. “I didn’t ask Ben to follow me. I didn’t want to have anything to do with Ben Kean.”

“Really, doctor,” Kitty said, once more trying to stop him, “I don’t know why you are putting the girl through this interrogation…
especially after all she has gone through tonight.”

“Don’t coddle a girl like this one, Mrs. Lancaster,” the doctor said. “I’m sure you are aware of what kind of girl she is.”

“I know what kind of girl you are trying to make her out to be,” Kitty flared angrily. “But I was most favorably impressed
with Teresa O’Rahilly from the first moment I met her. She’s a fine young woman.”

Dr. Fleming smiled in benign condescension. “But don’t you see my point, Mrs. Lancaster?” he asked. “The woman … the
Irish
woman,” he added pointedly, “caused the whole thing. Don’t you see that? She led Ben Kean on, the poor booby. Then she led
young Mr. Carlysle on. Then she told Ben she was through with him. And then she contrived for the two of them to encounter
one another. And then,
voila
, the excitement!… That’s the kind of girl I mean,” he proclaimed triumphantly. “A temptress. A seductress. A black widow
spider who devours her mates.”

Teresa looked at Kitty, shaking her head in exasperation and dismay and fury. Kitty felt more sorry for her than ever.

“Doctor,” Kitty said firmly, “I must insist that you leave now. I’m sure we can talk about these things in a few days, after
the dust has settled.”

She rose to her feet in order to conduct him out.

He smiled at her. “I have learned all I need to know for now anyway,” he said, heaving his immense body up out of the chair.

“But you will hear more of this later… I’m certain of it. I will, naturally, meet with George Kean and discuss the whole affair
with him. I’m certain that he will have more than a few thoughts of his own.” He looked at Teresa. “If I were you, miss,”
he spat the last word out like poisoned meat, “I would hold myself ready for whatever justice lies in store for you.”

Kitty just looked at him, seething. But she had nothing more to say. She did not want to provoke further conversation with
this man. Meanwhile, Bridget had produced his topcoat. She held it for him, and he took his bag and left.

Kitty, feeling concern for the girl, stood and walked over to her. She had no doubt that Teresa had been involved with Ben
Kean—an involvement she may well have to answer for. But Kitty didn’t feel there was any reason to dig into that wound tonight.

Once again, Kitty gathered Teresa in her arms. Teresa sighed and sobbed once or twice, shuddering as she did so. Then she
pulled herself away.

“Thank you,” she said. Her eyes fell to the floor. “Will you ever forgive me for bringing all this down on you?”

“Don’t even begin to worry about that,” Kitty said. “Really, I’m glad that I was here tonight.”

She shuddered again. “But what am I to do next?” she said.

“I suggest sleep,” Kitty smiled.

Teresa looked at her, and then she smiled, too, selfconsciously. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m dying on my feet.” She paused,
then said, “But what am I to do? Dr. Fleming means to make trouble for me. And Graham is… And I am…”

“Defenseless?” Kitty said, completing her thought.

“Yes,” Teresa agreed, “defenseless.”

“I don’t think it would be good for you to stay here,” Kitty said slowly, drawing each word out. An idea was beginning to
take shape in her mind.

“I wouldn’t presume on your hospitality any more than I already have,” Teresa said, misunderstanding her. “Please don’t think
that I would try to use you that way.”

“No, no, no,” Kitty said, raising her hands up in protest. “That’s not at all what I meant.” She laughed lightly. “What I
was thinking was that you must get out of the city, both of you … I don’t like that doctor’s look—or his attitude—any better
than you do. And of course we mustn’t forget Ben Kean’s brother. He is sure to wake in a wild rage.”

“But…”

Kitty waved her to silence. “That’s it!” she said, suddenly hugely excited. “I’ve got it! We’ll all go to the tunnel.”

“To the tunnel? How?”

“By train. There is a train leaving for the west at ten tomorrow morning. I’ll take the Carlysle boys. And you and Graham
can come as well. You can find out about your brother. In fact,” she brightened even more, “I’m sure we will be able to make
ourselves useful.”

“But how will Graham travel?”

“As comfortably as we can make it for him,” Kitty said, ignoring the obvious difficulties. Having found a solution to her
problem, she did not want to think about anything that could possibly hinder it. “The doctor said he is not badly injured;
however,” she concluded, as if to shut the lid on further protests, “if he is not well enough to travel tomorrow, we’ll leave
him here—in good hands.”