An Improper Death (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Mysteries Book 2) (19 page)

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Authors: Paula Paul

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Women Sleuths, #Historical Fiction, #British

BOOK: An Improper Death (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Mysteries Book 2)
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Alexandra had heard the warning many times from her father, but she had found it difficult not to become personally involved when her patients were neighbors and friends she had known all her life. The only hint her father had ever given her that he experienced the same problem was to confess to her that he had found it necessary to sacrifice something of his soul in order to survive in his profession. He had not discussed the problem beyond that. After several years she had come to understand that it may have been too painful for him to discuss.

It was the utter dependence and unflinching trust placed in her that was so damning and damaging. Mary’s words,
I knows ye’ll heal me,
still resonated in her soul. And now even Mary knew she was dying. Why else would she feel the need to unburden herself by confessing to murdering the admiral? The thought of that confession once again sent Alexandra’s mind reeling. What possible motive could Mary have for that? And who did she mean when she said, “I couldn’t bear for you to think it was someone else?” Who was the someone else? Did she mean Annie? She’d said something about Annie helping her. Or was she confusing the admiral with her father, whom she obviously hated? And was the someone else her mother or another person from her unhappy childhood?

“Alexandra? Are you all right?”

Dr. Holmes’s words startled her and brought her out of her troubled musing. “Of course,” she said. “I was just thinking of Mary’s hallucinations. I say, it was difficult for me to know where the hallucinations ended and reality began.”

Dr. Holmes nodded in agreement. “Indeed. She rambles on about her father quite often. Sometimes as if she thinks he’s with her.”

“Has she ever mentioned a certain Admiral Orkwright in her ramblings?” Alexandra tried not to appear too anxious.

“Can’t say.
There are so many patients. So many ramblings.” He was distracted by the tea tray the nurse had brought. “Cream?” he asked, holding up the pitcher over the cup that had been poured for Alexandra.

During the next few minutes, Dr. Holmes turned the conversation to the telephone exchange recently installed in London. He, like Mr. Forsythe, was fascinated by the science, but speculated that it might prove to be a nuisance to have patients ringing one up at all hours. Alexandra could think of nothing other than Mary’s confession. It seemed increasingly bizarre as each minute passed. By the time Dr. Holmes moved on to the recent announcement of a chicken cholera vaccine and the growing popularity for inoculations in the treatment and prevention of disease,
Alexandra had lost track of the conversation entirely. She wanted desperately to get back to Mary. Perhaps after Mary slept awhile and felt more rested she would no longer be incoherent.

Mary was not awake when Alexandra returned to her bedside. She had died peacefully in her sleep.

 

Nicholas was more than a little dismayed when he arrived at Dr. Gladstone’s home, and Nancy told him the doctor had been called away. He had been eager to investigate the mystery of the boat sealant. It was obvious that the admiral had come in contact with the sealant, and it followed that he most likely came in contact with it while in a boat. One could then extrapolate that he had been in the boat when he fell, or was pushed, as the case may be, into the sea to drown.

Finding a small craft with fresh sealant on it, as Zack had apparently done, could possibly bring them one step closer to solving the mystery. If the boat was on the admiral’s property, as Zack’s encounter seemed to suggest, then someone could have placed it there after the admiral died. After he had been taken out to sea and drowned. Who might have done that remained a mystery, and that was precisely the reason he was eager to investigate. He hoped to find something that would help answer the question of who.

“Oh, I know, ’tis a shame, sir. Of course you’re disappointed.” Nancy had apparently read his mind, or perhaps just his expression. “I know Dr. Gladstone was just as eager as you to get on with the investigation.”

“Yes, well, I suppose when duty calls…” Nicholas gave Nancy a faint smile and turned toward the carriage.

“Of course we could still investigate. The two of us, I mean.”

Nicholas stopped and turned around slowly. “The two of us?”

“And why not?
’Tis what Dr. Gladstone would want.” Nancy wore an enthusiastic look on her face as she stepped out the door, her arms folded around themselves against the cold.

“Indeed. And how do you know that?”

“Well, of course she would,” Nancy said, taking a few steps toward him. “She will appreciate whatever we can learn in her absence. She’ll see it as saving her time, she will.”

Nicholas considered it for a moment. The truth was, he had thought of going on to Gull House himself as soon as Nancy told him Alexandra was gone. He would have to take the dog, of course, in the hope that he would lead the way to the boat in question. But he had second thoughts about the animal, who was none too friendly toward him, and who, he suspected, would not be inclined to cooperate. Nancy, on the other hand, got on with Zack as well as Alexandra did.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said at length. “Fetch your cloak and gloves. Oh, and bring along something to tie the dog to the carriage so he’ll be sure to follow us.”

“No need for that,” Nancy called to him over her shoulder as she turned back to the door. “He’ll follow.”

Nancy was right. The dog did follow, his size allowing him to lumber along with the horse without hurrying. As they approached the house, Nancy, with her usual lack of concern for the propriety of the situation, told him where and when to stop.

“Stop the carriage here, sir,” she said when they were still several yards away from the steep drive to Gull House at the top of the hill. “I don’t think we should go any further up, lest someone sees us. This will give us a chance to meander in the woods to see if we can spot the boat. We’ll let Zack go ahead, of course, since, if I know the old boy as well as I think I do, it’s likely he’ll go back to the boat that got him into trouble to start with.”

Nicholas could see no reason not to do her bidding, so he secured the horse and carriage to a tree and turned back to help Nancy out of the carriage, only to find she had already alighted. She was standing with her hands on her hips, surveying the woods. The dog sat beside her, his panting breath forming a jagged ghost of a cloud that disappeared quickly into the ether. He showed no sign of wanting to return to the scene of his last crime.

Nancy, who once again appeared to have read his mind, said, “Poor Zack may be afraid I’ll scold him. Perhaps we should walk away and leave him to his own devices.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Nicholas said. “Where do you propose we go?”

“I suggest we take the carriage up to Gull House and leave Zack here, just as Miss Alex did. She told me it peeved him to be left behind, and she thinks that’s why he wandered away into the woods.”

“Very well.” Nicholas stood beside the carriage, ready to help her in, but she was busy now, instructing the dog that he was to stay at the bottom of the hill. The animal actually seemed to be arguing with her with an odd-sounding growl, but in the end, she seemed to think she had succeeded in convincing him and allowed herself to be helped into the carriage and driven away. When Nicholas glanced back at the dog, he didn’t appear to be at all malcontent. He wagged his tail a few seconds, then sat down with what someone more sentimental than himself might call a contented look, his breath a puff of white against the grey morning.

Nancy was once again full of advice as Nicholas drove the carriage up the hill. “We will go to the door together, and I shall tell the housekeeper that Dr. Gladstone has instructed me to come to see after Mrs.
Orkwright. It won’t seem at all strange to her, since I have taken on such duties before in the doctor’s absence. As for you, I suppose we can say that the doctor asked you to drive me in your carriage, what with the morning being so cold.”

Nicholas had to admit to himself that the old girl was clever, and she was probably as
conniving a woman as he’d ever met.

Nancy’s artful ruse did at least get them inside, where they were told by the grim, unsmiling woman known as Annie to wait in the parlor. “She’s an odd one, that one,” Nancy whispered when they were alone.
“And dangerous, as you know. Tried to kill young John, if Rob is right. Odd thing, the constable never questioning him, what?”

“I suppose…” Nicholas was a bit distracted, “but I’m wondering—”

“Tell you what I think,” Nancy interrupted. “I think ’tis because he knows Mrs. Orkwright wouldn’t want him asking too many questions. He’s fond of her, he is.”

“Nancy.” Nicholas sounded exasperated. “The important question is why would Annie want to kill John?”

“When a woman kills, she’s protecting someone. Sometimes ’tis herself.” Nancy whispered without looking at him. Her eyes were still fixed in the direction in which Annie had disappeared.

Nicholas pondered her words. If Annie had indeed taken a shot at John, was she protecting herself?
Or Mrs. Orkwright? Or someone else?

He grew restless waiting for Annie to return and found himself walking around the room aimlessly, first staring out the window at the view of the bleak sea coast, then inspecting a rather bad painting of what must have been the admiral’s ancestor. Finally, he meandered across the room to the gun cabinet. He was something of a gun aficionado, and his interest was captured by the small but impressive collection he found there. There was a
Welby-Green revolver, quite the new thing. It had only been introduced this year. Next to it was a shotgun. The maker was W.J. Jeffery and Company of London, which meant the gun was handmade to suit the owner. Another W.J. Jeffery of a considerably larger caliber was next to it. It was the sort of gun gentlemen used for tiger hunting in India. Nicholas had one himself, also made by Jeffery.

It was the
Mauser that astonished him, though. It would have fired the 446 caliber bullet the stable boy had found in the ceiling of the stable. But of even more interest was the fact that there was a smudge of powder at the end of the barrel.

He took a quick glance over his shoulder before he attempted to open the glass door of the cabinet. To his great surprise, it was not locked. Whoever had put the gun back in the cabinet without cleaning it must have been in a hurry and forgot to lock
it. He reached for the Mauser, then he held the end of the barrel to his right eye and peered into it. The inside of the barrel was coated with powder residue. It had obviously been fired and not cleaned. It was equally obvious that the remaining guns in the cabinet had been meticulously cleaned, probably by the admiral. It would seem unlikely that he would put one away dirty.

“Sir!
What are you doing? Put that away before someone sees you!” Nancy’s warning came in an urgent whisper, and when he turned to look at her, he saw that her eyes were wide with alarm.

He said nothing, but he put the rifle away and had just seated himself in the chair he’d occupied before when Annie returned. Nancy still wore her alarmed look, which she quickly masked when she saw Annie.

“Mrs. Orkwright is not yet awake, and I’ll not awaken her. She has hardly rested at all since her son was injured and taken back to gaol.” Annie’s eyes had the cold of the North Sea in them and her large frame menaced the room like a brewing storm.

Nancy stood.
“Of course. Dr. Gladstone can see her when she returns.” She had accomplished her mission by establishing an excuse for being on the property, so she wasn’t going to put up a fuss.

“She’s been through too much and needs her rest,” Annie said, as if she hadn’t heard Nancy and needed to make her point.

“See that she gets it, then.” Nancy was already moving toward the door. “And don’t bother seeing us out. We can find the way.” She turned back to Annie and, with a cheerful smile, said, “Tell Mrs. Orkwright that Dr. Gladstone sends her greeting and will call on her later.” Her smile disappeared as they made their way to the carriage. “Did you notice the innocent charade? Pure gall, I’d say.” She spoke in a low voice, as she leaned closer to Nicholas in order for him to hear her.

“If you’re referring to the fact that she spoke so casually about John’s injury, then yes, I agree,” Nicholas said as he helped Nancy into the carriage.

“Pure gall,” Nancy said again.

“Most surprising though, was that she practically flaunted the weapon she used to shoot the boy.”

Nancy leaned forward and spoke to him from the back of the carriage. “You found the weapon? Is that what you were doing when you were meddling with the admiral’s guns?”

“Meddling?” Nicholas gave the rein a gentle flick across the horse’s back.

“Perhaps I overstepped my bounds.”

“Of course you did, Nancy. You are perpetually out of bounds.” Nicholas threw the words at her from over his shoulder.

There was a long silence that left Nicholas wondering if Nancy actually felt chastened by his words. If she did, it would be quite out of character. Nancy was impertinent, devious, and rather overly confident. The kind of girl who should have been fired long ago. But he had to admit he liked her.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said finally, leaning forward again. “You were telling me about the weapon you found.”

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