Symptoms of Death (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Book 1) (16 page)

“When?” Alexandra asked, still pressing her.

Mrs. Pickwick shook her head. “I don
’t know. Time means nothing to me in my state.” She closed her eyes. “Yesterday, I think it was. Yes, the same night Mr. Forsythe left.”

“He left at night?” Alexandra
’s interest was piqued.

“Late in the day, it was. Said he would travel all night. And don
’t go asking me why he left, for I don’t know. Them nobs has always got urgent business in London, you know.”

“Did he say anything to you when he left?”

“Now why would he be talkin’ to the likes of me?” Mrs. Pickwick’s voice had gained strength with her growing emotion.

Alexandra picked up her medical bag, preparing to leave. “I thought perhaps he might have left a message for me.”

Mrs. Pickwick continued her packing. “He left with nary a word to anybody except the stable boy to help him with his trunks. And now the guests is all gone, which is what we’d all be if we had any wits about us. I’ll be leaving as soon as my duty to the queen’s court as witness is over, and it’s without a position to go to, I tell you. It’s danger of starvation I’m facing, but you don’t see that keeping me back, do you?” She folded one of her large aprons into a precise and neat square. “I’ll be here for the trial and to see that poor Blackburn woman buried in holy ground before I go, and that’s it. I must say, you won’t see Priscilla Blackburn up and walking around after she’s dead. Not a decent woman like her. May God bless her soul. No, she knows what’s proper, she does, and you can thank God for that.”

Alexandra went home, after she
’d tried unsuccessfully to find Jamie.

The next day, as she and Nancy prepared to attend Priscilla
’s funeral, Alex wondered if she should tell Constable Snow what she’d learned about the jewel thief ring. But wouldn’t it betray those two boys who trusted her? Or did her duty to obey the law take precedence over their trust? To her surprise, she found herself wishing Nicholas was there to talk with and to help her work her way through the muddle.

She still had not decided what to do as she and
Nancy made their way on foot from their home to the church in the village.

“I hope, for your sake, that those two boys don
’t rob you blind while we’re gone,” Nancy said as they walked.

“How can they rob me blind when they
’re locked in Father’s room like prisoners?”

“Ha! That shows how gullible you are, Missy. Those two have no doubt escaped from prisons mightier than yours. What
’s it to them to pick the lock of a cottage?” Nancy’s tone of voice and the fact that she’d called her “Missy” reminded Alexandra of when they were younger. Nancy was forever trying to educate her in the ways of the world. It was, she always said, her payment for the senior Dr. Gladstone’s allowing her to share Alexandra’s classroom with her.

“Well, suppose they do get out; they won
’t go far with Zack there to keep them in line.”

Nancy
shook her head. “Zack’s a clever animal, all right, but do you really think the poor beast understands that he’s supposed to keep those two rascals in the house when what he’s been trained to do is keep them out?”

“Zack understands.” Alexandra
’s attention was immediately distracted by the sight of a man she’d just seen from a distance coming out of the Ram’s Head.

“Are you all right, Miss Alex?”
Nancy had obviously seen her face and was concerned.

“Quite all right,” Alexandra said. “It
’s just that…”

“
Yes, Miss?”

“That man.” She was still looking toward the tavern where the gentleman she was certain was Lord Winningham still stood, speaking to someone. “He looks familiar.”

Nancy followed her gaze. “What man?”

“That one there. See, he
’s just going into the Ram’s Head again.”

“How can you tell? ’Tis
so far away, and besides, there are three men going into the tavern.”

“He
’s the one dressed like a gentleman. I think it’s Lord Winningham.”

Nancy
shrugged. “Never heard of him. Is he another one of Lord Dunsford’s friends?”

“Yes,” Alexandra said, “and I find it rather odd that both Winningham and Jeremy Atewater would be in
Newton this long before they have to be here as witnesses.”

Nancy
’s eyes brightened. “You think they know something about the murderer?”

“There
’s certainly no logical reason to think that,” Alexandra said, in spite of the fact that it was the very thing she was thinking.

By the time they reached the church, a large crowd had gathered. There were townsfolk, fishermen, and many of the other
tenant farmers from Montmarsh. There was, of course, no representative from the earl’s family, since the heir had yet to move into Montmarsh.

The wet nurse Alexandra had hired sat with Seth and his older son and held the surviving twin in her arms. Alexandra sat next to
Nancy. Watching Seth, who could not stop crying, and his two-year-old son, who looked bewildered, Alexandra’s mood darkened. In spite of the fact that death at childbirth was all too common, she couldn’t help feeling that it was partly because of her own lack of knowledge that Priscilla was dead.

She knew she had to get past the self
-recrimination, however; otherwise, she would never be able to serve her other patients. Nancy, who sensed her mood, reached to cover Alexandra’s hand with her own.

After the church service and the grave-side ceremony, and after Alexandra had offered her condolences to Seth, she turned away to begin the walk home with
Nancy. That was when she found herself face to face with Constable Snow.

“There
’s been another murder,” he said. “A young man. I think you may know something about it.”

Chapter
Fourteen

“Dr. Gladstone! Are you quite all right?” Constable Snow frowned as he looked at her face.

“I am never quite all right when I have lost a patient.” Alexandra’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. She knew the real reason for any change in her countenance had to do with what the constable had just said, as well as the fact that she’d lost a patient. But she hoped to divert his attention until she could collect her thoughts.

“Of course,” he said. “I
’m sorry. I should have known. Forgive me for being so abrupt.”

Alexandra mustered as much poise as possible. “You were speaking of a murder?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Perhaps tomorrow would be a more opportune time.”

Alexandra felt
Nancy tug at her arm, a signal that they should leave. In spite of that, Alexandra blurted, “I’m afraid you’ve aroused my curiosity, Constable.” She was aware of Nancy’s glare. She didn’t need Nancy’s glare to tell her she had spoken in spite of her own better judgment.

Snow seemed to consider it for a moment. “You know of whom I speak, of course,” he said finally.

“I’m not sure I do, nor am I sure why you think I know anything about a murder.” There was another urgent tug on her arm.

“Excuse me, Miss. You told me to make sure you got back to the surgery on time to see a few more patients.”
Nancy spoke boldly, in spite of the fact that they both knew Alexandra had asked for no such thing.

Snow ignored
Nancy’s disguised plea. “Dr. Gladstone, it’s unlike you not to be forthright. You cannot help but know that I’m referring to the young man known as Quince.”

“And why do you assume I know this?” Alexandra heard a desperate sigh from
Nancy.

“Two young men of his acquaintance came to your house shortly after he died. They must have told you.”

Alexandra bristled. “Are my house and surgery under surveillance? Indeed, is it customary for one’s home and business to be watched by government officials when one is a law-abiding citizen?”

“There are no government officials watching your home or your surgery, Miss Alexandra. We were watching the young men.” Snow had taken on a scolding tone, sounding very much as he might have when he was a teacher and she a student. He had even
called her Miss Alexandra as he had back then.

“The young men?” Alexandra was struggling to keep her composure, convinced now that she should have taken
Nancy’s hint and used the earlier opportunity to walk away. It was too late now, though, and she was even more aware of Nancy’s edginess as she stood beside her. She knew, too, once they returned home, she would have Nancy’s scolding to face for allowing her curiosity to get in the way of good judgment.

“Yes, the young men,” Snow said. “You know of whom I speak. The two who came to your house early this morning. Rather too early, I would think. Especially since you returned so late last night after your meeting with the victim.”

Alexandra heard Nancy’s breathing change to a rapid, shallow pattern, and she, herself, stiffened. “You were watching me as well, then.” She managed to sound calm and detached in spite of the fact that her anger as well as her anxiety were growing.

“I was trying to watch young Quince, Dr. Gladstone, but it was quite dark, as I
’m sure you know, and I was unable to see clearly. I was not even certain, until you just confirmed it, that you had, in fact, met with Quince.”

“I have confirmed nothing, Constable.” Alexandra was afraid she would not be able to stay calm much longer.

“Neither have you denied meeting with Quince.” Snow met her gaze with a steely glare of his own.

“That fact does not constitute an affirmation.” She stared back at him.

Nancy tugged at her arm and leaned toward her to speak in an urgent whisper, her hand covering the side of her mouth so Constable Snow would not hear. “You best not say anymore, not until you talk to the likes of Mr. Forsythe.”

Alexandra was certain she was right. If she were prudent, she would say no more without the advice of a solicitor, if not a barrister such as Nicholas. Knowing that, she still could not stop herself from asking the question that nagged relentlessly at her.

“Tell me, Constable, why are you so interested in this person you call Quince, as well as the two young men you say you saw come to my home? Does it have to do with the other two recent murders?”

“It has to do with police business, Dr. Gladstone.” Snow
’s glare had turned to steel again.

“Am I in some danger as a result of having seen those two young men as patients?”

“I don’t know.” His answer was curt, as if he was afraid he might say too much.

“And why do you think I might know something about the other young man
’s death?” she asked. “The one you call Quince.”

Snow gave her an accusing look. “I spoke with another young ruffian at the pier, and he told me Quince had told the two injured boys to see you. He also told me the two boys were bitten by a large dog and that the dog belongs to you.”

So it was true he had not actually seen her. He had taken the word of the unnamed boy at the pier, and he was only conjecturing that the boys might have said something to her about Quince’s murder. He was fishing, and knowing that gave her a bit of leeway.

“Two young men did indeed come to my front door last night, as I
’m certain you know because your spying—excuse me—your surveillance confirmed that fact.” She watched his face for some reaction to her veiled criticism, but he remained stoic. She continued. “I’m not certain why the gentleman you called Quince would tell them to come to me, since I don’t know him.” She was careful not to say she had never met him, but was a half-truth any less grievous than an outright lie?

Nancy
, growing more nervous by the minute, spouted her own half-truths. “We best be going now, Dr. Gladstone. Remember, one of your patients has urgent need of you today.”

Snow once again ignored
Nancy and spoke directly to Alexandra. “Perhaps it is your reputation as a physician that got them to you, then.” His tone was innocuous, but his eyes were probing.

She gave him a non-committal nod and a half-smile.

“Nevertheless, I must caution you about walking along the waterfront late at night,” Snow said. “Even a respected physician with a large dog is not invulnerable.”

“Thank you for your concern, Constable, and I will remember your warning. Good day, sir.” Alexandra started to walk away, but Snow stopped her with a sharp reprimand.

“You have not told me what you know about the murder of Quince.”

Alexandra turned around slowly, once again sensing
Nancy’s tension growing. “I beg your pardon?”

Snow took a step toward her and spoke in a hushed, urgent voice. “What did those two tell you?”

She chose her words carefully. “We spoke mostly of their injuries. Lacerations and puncture wounds. Perhaps they were caused by an animal, but since I did not actually witness an attack, I’m afraid I can’t be sure.”

“The two boys were never seen leaving your house last night. Are they still there?” Snow
’s expression was stern, and, it seemed to Alexandra, his tone was almost threatening.

Alexandra managed a dismissive little laugh. “I maintain a simple surgery, Constable Snow. I don
’t run a hospital. Or a hotel.”

“But you do know where they are.”

Alexandra sighed. “I can only hope they are some place where their wounds will be cared for. Do they have parents, Constable Snow?”

He was silent for a moment, glaring at her. “They live along the waterfront with other ruffians. They live by theft.”

Alexandra tried not to let her own gaze falter. “I see,” she said.

There was another silence, another glare, then Snow said, “I will be in contact, Dr. Gladstone.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Alexandra said as he moved away.

Nancy
breathed a heavy sigh and waited until he had put several feet between them before she spoke. “You escaped that one by the skin of your teeth, now didn’t you?”

“I
’m not sure we’ve escaped anything yet,” Alexandra said, watching Snow’s back as he walked away.

“But you were a clever one, you were. The way you handled him, I
’m not sure I could have done better myself. I’ve taught you well, if I do say so.”

“I just lied to a policeman.”

“’Twasn’t a pure lie. You just failed to elaborate, which is a lady’s right, I say.”

“Something made me want to protect those boys,” Alexandra said. “I have a feeling they know something that
’s dangerous for them to know.”

“Why sure they do,”
Nancy said. “And ’tis plain that the constable thinks they know something, too.”

Alexandra shook her head, perplexed. “I
’m not sure his knowing where they are would bring them harm. I just felt I couldn’t betray them now.”

Nancy
gave her a knowing look. “And it could be dangerous for you, now couldn’t it? Didn’t I tell you that from the first?”

Alexandra nodded. “That you did.” Then with a resigned sigh said, “Let
’s go home, Nancy. I’ve got to stop acting on instinct and think this through.”

“That
’s one thing you haven’t been doing much of lately. Thinking, that is. If I may say so.” Nancy spoke as they made their way through the church yard toward the road. Alexandra ignored her impertinence, but she remembered again her father continually warning her, since she and Nancy were playmates, that she was not cultivating the proper relationship with a servant.

Alexandra was not stern, but she could, however, be defensive. “You
’re saying I haven’t been using my head, Nancy?”

“Well, you aren
’t thinking straight when you bring strange men in off the street in the middle of the night, now are you?” Nancy, showing her impertinence again.

“Jerry Atewater is hardly a stranger. He
’s a respectable London banker, whom I met at Montmarsh. I happened to see him while I was walking Zack.” Alexandra knew she sounded a bit too defensive.

“If I may say so, what
’s a respectable London banker doing in Newton? And in particular, what’s he doing walking along the waterfront in the middle of the night?”

“He said he was here to—”

“And another thing,” Nancy interrupted, “if I may say so, ’tis just a bit odd that—”

Alexandra snapped at
Nancy. “Oh, for heaven’s sake stop saying ‘if I may say so.’ You know as well as I that, with or without permission, you always say anything that comes into your head.”

She was aware of
Nancy’s sideways glance at her and of her sudden silence, which, Alexandra was certain, was meant to signal that she had been unreasonably harsh. She’d spoken that way out of frustration and confusion. It had just occurred to her that Constable Snow had not mentioned seeing Jeremy Atewater at the pier. It would have been difficult for him to have missed him. Was there some sort of conspiracy between the two of them to spy on her? And if so, why?

“Speaking of Mr. Atewater,”
Nancy said, obviously unable to maintain her silence for too long, “it seems a bit odd, does it not, that the constable didn’t mention seeing him at the pier?”

It was not the first time
Nancy had seemingly read her mind. Alexandra’s only response was an almost undetectable nod of her head.

Nancy
continued. “And I wonder just what that Mr. Atewater was really doing out there. He wasn’t walking there just to enjoy the evening; you can be sure of that. There are certainly other places around Newton more pleasant than the smelly old pier if a person’s in the mood for a pleasant walk. Which is another thing. Just what, in truth, were you doing out there? And don’t tell me you were just walking Zack. You never walk him at night, and you certainly don’t walk him along the pier. Were you looking for that Quince fellow, as the constable said?”

“
Nancy, I can’t—”

“Now don
’t be saying you can’t tell me. How can I help you if you don’t tell me things?”

Alexandra stopped and turned to her before they reached the church yard gate. “Help me what?”

“Why, get to the bottom of all of this.” Nancy sounded indignant. “You know you always did need my help. Wasn’t I the one who showed you how to bait a hook and catch a fish when the rector’s son bet you two pence you couldn’t do it? Wasn’t I the one who convinced your father, God rest his soul, that it wasn’t really gambling you’d engaged in, as that sore loser and calumnious knave of a rector’s son told him, but rather that he had simply paid you to teach him how? Wasn’t I also the one who helped you when—”

“We are not talking about childhood misadventures now,” Alexandra interrupted. “This is far more serious than that. Three people have been murdered, and you have no business probing into any of that.” There was a moment of silence while they glared at each other. “And besides,” Alexandra said, “your help is expensive. As I remember, you took half of my winnings for rescuing me from that business with the rector
’s son.”