Medicine and Manners #2 (11 page)

“And about that night of the mob. Did you learn anything when you…well, you know.”

“Good day, Nell.”

Nell's only response as she went back to sawing at the carcass was a
humpff
that could have meant any number of things.

When Alexandra arrived at Mrs. Fontaine's cottage during her morning rounds the next day, the elderly woman was in her garden with Judith. Mrs. Fontaine was pointing to a tall plant, engrossed in explaining something to the younger woman.

“Hello,” Alexandra called. Both women looked at her, Mrs. Fontaine with a smile and Judith with a blank expression. Alexandra put her medical bag on the ground and held out both her hands to Judith. “I was sorry to hear about your father. This must be a troubling and confusing time for you.”

At first Judith seemed not to know what to do, but she eventually placed both her hands in Alexandra's. Her hands felt limp and lifeless, and her expression still showed no emotion. She mumbled something that sounded like
yes.

“I've convinced Judith to stay with me, at least for a while,” Mrs. Fontaine said.

“A wonderful idea,” Alexandra said. “I'm happy to see you're well enough to be up and about.” She looked at Judith. “Are you able to sleep? I can give you a powder if you need it. Or if you would like to talk—”

“Talk? What good will it do? It won't bring him back.” Judith turned toward Alexandra. “This…this thing he's done…He did it out of remorse for what he did to those men.”

Alexandra glanced at Mrs. Fontaine, who nodded as if to confirm she'd heard Judith's theory about her father's guilt.

“Let's go inside and have a cup of tea,” Mrs. Fontaine said. “It will make you feel better, Judith. Come along.”

When they were inside, Alexandra sat with Judith in the parlor while Mrs. Fontaine prepared the tea.

“It doesn't matter, really, whether anyone believes me now or not,” Judith said. “They'll know I was right once the killings stop.” Her voice still sounded lifeless.

“You are absolutely convinced your father killed those men?” Alexandra said.

“Of course.”

“But in each case, there was no sign of murder. No cuts or bludgeoned heads or bodies, no pistol wounds.”

“But everyone knows they were killed, don't they? The entire village is calling the deaths murder,” Judith said. “Even you believe the men were murdered, Dr. Gladstone. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice.”

“Even if anyone or everyone believes the men were murdered, there are numerous other theories about the killings. Some say they were killed because they knew about that buried treasure in the Freemasons' temple.”

“Buried treasure?” Judith asked as she accepted a cup from Mrs. Fontaine.

“It's an old legend that resurfaces from time to time in the parish,” Alexandra said. “I'm surprised you haven't heard it.”

Judith shook her head.

“Perhaps that's because you didn't grow up here,” Alexandra said, accepting a steaming cup from Mrs. Fontaine.

“Legends usually have some basis in truth,” Mrs. Fontaine said.

“What do you mean?” Judith's face had grown even paler than it was before.

“The Templar treasure. There could be some basis for the legend,” Mrs. Fontaine said. “The Templars were Europe's bankers at one time. Controlled most of the money in all of Europe. Some say that's why they were disbanded. Rulers and kings didn't like the idea of any group having that much power, you see.”

“Of course I know about the Templars and their money,” Judith said. “What does that have to do with the Temple of the Ninth Daughter?”

“When the Templars were disbanded, and most of them killed, some of the money and other treasures were buried in their temples,” Mrs. Fontaine said. “The Temple for the Lodge of the Ninth Daughter was built over the ruins of one of the order's temples, and the treasure is said to still be there.”

Judith set her teacup on the table with trembling hands. “Why wasn't I ever told this?” she asked.

“Those of us who grew up here simply take the legend for granted, since we've heard it so many times,” Alexandra said. “It's one of those stories that stays buried for long periods before it resurfaces.”

“My father must have known about it,” Judith said.

“Of course he knew.” Mrs. Fontaine turned to Alexandra. “I do wish you'd stop referring to it as a legend, Alexandra, my dear,” she said. “It's certainly more than a legend. Anyway, as I said, legends almost always have some basis in truth.”

“Perhaps you're right,” Alexandra said.

“Do you remember my telling you about the old-line families?” Mrs. Fontaine asked, addressing Alexandra. “Many of them had money invested with the Templars. Some family members still grumble about the money owed them by those knights, even after seven centuries.”

“Interesting,” Alexandra said. “That's something I've never heard before. Do you think it could be some family member terrorizing the town dressed as a knight and murdering people?”

Mrs. Fontaine shook her head and smiled. “I don't speculate on such things, dear. When one has lived as long as I have, one hears many stories. All I can say is that, from my experience, not all of them are legend. And,” she added after a slight pause, “one also learns that money is a powerful motive for all kinds of misdeeds.”

“Indeed,” Alexandra said as she stood. She looked at both women. “I'm happy to see that each of you is doing well. At least relatively speaking,” she added as she glanced at Judith, whose face by now had regained some of its color. “And I do thank you for the tea, Mrs. Fontaine, but I must be going. I want to stop by to see Charlotte Malcolm and her new baby.”

“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Fontaine said. “I went to see her myself recently. Baked a meat pie for the poor child. She certainly looked as if she needed it. So pale! What a dreadful experience she had with the birth. Oh,” she said, turning to Judith, “don't let it frighten you about giving birth, Judith. Most of the time it's not so dramatic.”

“Certainly not,” Alexandra said.

“Is woman's sole purpose to bear children? Oh, and keep her reputation intact?”

“That's an interesting question,” Alexandra said. “I wish I had time to discuss it with you.”

“But of course you must go, Alexandra. I always look forward to your visits,” Mrs. Fontaine said, standing as well.

“And I thank you for your concern about me, Dr. Gladstone,” Judith said. “I do apologize for what must seem like strange behavior, but I'm afraid I feel a bit addled.”

“Who can blame you?” Alexandra said, smiling at her. “After your father's death and the other deaths and turmoil that have settled in Newton—it's enough to make anyone feel addled.”

“Oh, yes, it's all so unsettling, but the constable will be home soon, and I'm certain that will restore at least a modicum of calm,” Mrs. Fontaine said.

Alexandra sighed and shook her head in a weary gesture. “I wish we could be certain of that. It's really quite troubling that Constable Snow seems to have disappeared completely.”

Mrs. Fontaine gave her a gentle smile and patted her shoulder. “He hasn't disappeared, my dear. In fact, I am convinced he's on his way back as we speak.”

“I hope you're right,” Alexandra said, marveling at how trusting the woman was, when everyone else in the village was either angry or suspicious or both. Mrs. Fontaine didn't seem to be able to see the dark side of anyone.

Alexandra waved goodbye to the old woman and looked around for Zack, who always waited for her outside the door of any patient she visited. He was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he'd been frightened away by the cats. She called his name and eventually saw him trotting toward her, coming from the side of the cottage. His usually white face was darkened with dirt, as were his front paws.

“Zack! What have you done?”

At the sound of Alexandra's angry voice, Zack ducked his head and tried to slink away from her, but she grabbed the scruff of his neck and led him to the side of the house. She sucked in her breath when she saw the patch of upturned soil and bits of plants scattered on the ground.

It was with considerable embarrassment that Alexandra knocked on Mrs. Fontaine's door again to tell her that Zack had destroyed part of her garden.

“I shall be happy to pay for the damage,” she said, after she'd shown her what Zack had done.

Mrs. Fontaine laughed. “Damage? I should say not. I was going to dig up that section anyway. Besides, it's a dog's nature to want to dig when spring weather softens the ground.”

Alexandra remained embarrassed, nevertheless, and couldn't get Zack away soon enough.

Three patients were waiting in the surgery by the time Alexandra returned, and she had no chance to speak with Nancy about anything except medicine for several hours. Finally, she and Nancy were able to retire to the parlor for a few minutes for a respite.

“Nancy,” Alexandra said as they each sat down, “do you remember that old story of the buried treasure here in Newton? It's supposed to be in the—” Before she was able to finish the sentence, Zack stood up suddenly from his resting place in front of the fireplace and barked twice to signal that someone was at the surgery door.

“No rest for the weary,” Nancy said as she rose to her feet and headed toward the surgery wing of the house. Alexandra followed close behind. She soon saw that it was Lord Dunsford in the waiting room. He stood, looking handsome and trim in his riding clothes and tapping his riding crop against his leg.

“Ah, there you are,” he said when he saw Alexandra. “I thought you might be off on another emergency. How is the young mother you attended?”

“Better than she was earlier,” Alexandra said. “But that's not why you're here.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I came out of curiosity. I couldn't wait any longer to learn what you've found in the specimens you took during the autopsy.”

“I can't be certain yet. I must do more research.”

“Of course,” Nicholas said. “At least there've been no more mysteriously dead Freemasons.”

“No,” Alexandra said, “but I was just about to tell Nancy something I heard today on my rounds that's quite interesting.”

“Something related to the deaths?”

“Perhaps.”

“Something about the buried treasure in Newton-upon-Sea,” Nancy said, turning to Nicholas.

“Buried treasure? By all means, you must tell us.” Nicholas pulled out one of the waiting-room chairs and held it, signaling for Alexandra to sit, then did the same for Nancy before he sat himself in another chair.

“We used to talk about it when we were children. Haven't thought of it in years,” Nancy said, when Alexandra had relayed Mrs. Fontaine's story to them.

“Sounds like a lot of rot to me,” Nicholas said.

“I can't remember all the details about those old-line families you said Mrs. Fontaine mentioned,” Nancy said.

“I've heard of those families,” Nicholas said, “and that part isn't all legend. I believe they're just as Mrs. Fontaine described them to you—old aristocracy. They're all over Europe and England. I don't remember a Templar connection, but perhaps I've simply forgotten. I could never keep it all straight. My grandmother used to talk about them. We are supposedly descended from them, but who knows if that's true? That would be on the Forsythe side, my father's side. I believe most of my mother's family members were ruffians and thieves until the sixteenth century.”

“So some of the treasure could be yours, my lord,” Nancy said.

Nicholas laughed. “I'm not going to waste my time trying to collect it. What I'm more concerned about is the restless mood in Newton—after all those deaths, the entire village is in turmoil. Think of the mob trying to break into the coroner's building. And there's plenty of speculation about the horseman, too. Some even say it's Robert Snow. If he doesn't show up soon, I'm afraid the village is going to descend into complete chaos.”

“Mrs. Fontaine is completely convinced that Constable Snow will return soon.”

“Now, how would she know that?” Nancy asked.

“Why, she doesn't know, of course. It's simply that she can't see anything but good in everyone she meets.”

“Perhaps she really does know where he is and why,” Nicholas said. “She seems to know something about everyone in this town, even more than you, Nancy, if you'll forgive me for saying so. Mrs. Fontaine has lived in Newton-upon-Sea longer than anyone else alive, I'd wager. She probably knows a few secrets about…Why are you blushing, Nancy? Does she know something about you?”

Alexandra put a hand on his arm. “Nicholas, please…”

“Ah, you're blushing, too, my dear Alexandra. This is becoming more and more interesting.”

“Don't be ridiculous, of course I'm not blushing.” The truth was, Alexandra did have her own secret regarding an old lover, but as far as she knew, only Nancy was aware of the details.

“Very well,” Nicholas said. He winked, making Alexandra blush even more.

Nicholas had scarcely left when a sharp bark from Zack distracted the women. As she and Nancy made their way to the front, Alexandra was musing over Zack's demeanor with Nicholas. He still hadn't shown his usual belligerence toward him. This time, he had done nothing more threatening than stand at attention, as if he was still assessing the situation. Could it be he'd decided to trust Nicholas as a result of his actions that night in front of the mortuary?

Once they were in the main part of the house, Nancy went to the door while Alexandra settled herself in the parlor, ready to see who had come to visit. From where she sat, she could see the door. Nancy opened it to Constable Snow.