An Improper Death (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Mysteries Book 2) (20 page)

Nicholas smiled to himself. She was very much in character after all. “The weapon she used to wound John,” he said.

“But how can you be sure?”

He told her about the powder residue and how the caliber of bullets fired by the Mauser matched the one found in the ceiling.

“Am I right? Did she try to kill him to protect Mrs.
Orkwright?” Nancy said.

“We don’t know, do we? As you said, if we could solve the puzzle that is Annie, we could get to the bottom of this.” Nicholas stopped the carriage at the bottom of hill where they had left Zack, but Zack was nowhere in sight. They got out of the carriage and called his name. Within a few minutes Zack came bounding dutifully out of the woods.

Nancy put her hands to her face. “Just look at him! He’s covered with that sticky pitch and tar again.”

“And that is precisely what we’d hoped for.” Nicholas took a cautious step toward Zack. “Come on,
boy, show us where you’ve been.” Zack ignored him and lay down at Nancy’s feet.

Nicholas knew he was going to have to learn to get along with the beast, but for now, he was determined to find the boat, so he walked into the woods himself. It was not until Nancy ventured into the woods that Zack followed, however. But follow was all he was in the mood to do. He showed no inclination at all of leading them to the spot where he’d encountered the sealant.

Almost half an hour elapsed before Nicholas saw the pile of dead branches and leaves near an area of dense brush. As he drew closer he saw that the branches covered the prow of a small wooden craft. The rest of the boat had been pushed, stern first, into the brush where it rested upside down. Pitch and tar oozed from the seams on the bottom of the boat.

Nicholas turned around and signaled for Nancy, who was searching several yards away. “Look,” he said when she drew closer. “Someone has gone to a bit of trouble to hide this.”

Nancy frowned. “But why would anyone want it hidden?”

“If the admiral was supposed to have rowed himself out to sea, then fell out of his boat and drowned, the boat should still be out there, or else washed up to shore, battered and broken.”

“Of course!” Nancy said. “But whoever rowed him out to sea to drown him had to use the boat to come back.”

“Precisely.”

“But who?”

“Who indeed.”
Nicholas was struggling with the boat, trying to right it. “Help me turn this boat over, Nancy. Perhaps something to answer that perplexing question will reveal itself.”

When the craft was finally righted, there was nothing to see except the interior of the boat and a bit of leaves, dry grass, twigs and other debris on the floor that had been caught by the sticky sealant.

By the time Mary’s body had been prepared by the nurses and removed from the ward and Alexandra had spent some time comforting Fin, it was too late to start the long drive home. She and Fin were each given rooms in the dormitories for the night, and Fin drove her home in grieving silence the next day.

It was half past noon when they arrived. Lucy was saddled and waiting for her in the stable yard. The boys had obviously expected her back early enough to do her rounds. Only one carriage was waiting in the front. Perhaps that meant there were only a few patients waiting to see her. She could assume one or two had walked from the village. It would be fortunate for her if the patient load was small. She was tired, both physically and emotionally, because of the long ride, the ordeal of Mary’s death, and most of all, Mary’s strange confession. She’d been mulling over all of it during the drive home.

She bid Fin goodbye and walked to the door with her key ready, but before she could insert the key, Nancy opened the door and greeted her with, “We have news!”

Zack immediately forced himself in front of Nancy in order to greet Alexandra with a happy bark and a nudge of her thigh with his nose that was almost enough to unbalance her. That left her with no choice but to greet him with a hug and a scratch under his neck. She was dismayed to find that her hands and the front of her dress were covered with the same sticky substance Nancy had cleaned from Zack’s coat earlier.

“What sort of news?” she asked, peering around Zack’s head.

Nicholas then surprised her by stepping into the hall from the parlor.

“Mr. Forsythe!”

“Good morning, Alexandra.”

At the same time, Nancy said, “We found the boat.”

Alexandra stood and glanced from Nancy back to Nicholas. “You found—”

“Near Gull House,” Nicholas said. “Someone had attempted to hide it.”

“So that means the murderer is someone at Gull House!” Nancy sounded excited.

“Not necessarily.” Alexandra walked to the parlor, removing her cloak and gloves.

Nancy hurried to receive them. “Oh, I know ’tis not absolute proof, but with all the other evidence we have—”

“Someone else has confessed to the murder.
Someone not at Gull House.”

Nancy stopped on her way to hang Alexandra’s cloak and turned to face her. “Someone…
Who?”

At the same time, Nicholas said, “Confessed?
To the constable?”

Alexandra sat down in her favorite chair next to the fire. “Not to the constable, sir, to me.”

Nicholas sat down across from her. “But—”

“Mary Prodder told me she killed the admiral herself.”

Nancy, for once, was speechless. She simply stared at her. Nicholas gave her an incredulous look. “The same Mary Prodder who is confined to her bed with a broken hip?” he asked.

“Yes, the same.
Her last words to me before she died were a confession.”

Nancy gasped and whispered, “She died? Oh no. I am so sorry, Miss.” She was well aware of the effect a patient’s death had on Alexandra.

“I don’t understand,” Nicholas said. “How could she have possibly killed him when she couldn’t walk?”

Alexandra shook her head. “Her injury occurred on the same night the admiral apparently died. She could have fallen on her way home after killing him.” Alexandra felt very tired as well as depressed. It was a welcome feeling to have Zack nuzzling her ankles now, in spite of the fact that he was covered with that sticky substance, along with dirt and bits of the same odd black grass he’d attracted before. She found herself absently pulling the grass from his back and twisting it with her fingers. It was then that she realized it wasn’t grass at all. If Nancy and Nicholas were speaking to her, she didn’t notice it for some time as she shifted and sorted through everything she knew about the admiral’s death. Zack continued to nuzzle her, and she heard Nancy say something about his needing another bath.

“’Tis not an easy feat to get that animal into the tub,” Nancy said.

It was the mention of the tub that started Alexandra to thinking of the admiral in his tub when he was drunk and of all that Mary had said. She looked at Nancy and then at Nicholas. “I must go to Gull House,” she said.

He gave her a surprised look. “Shall I take you in my hired carriage?”

“I must go alone.”

“Alone?” Nancy blurted. “Of course not, we must all go.”

Alexandra reached for the cloak and gloves Nancy still held. “I think I know who killed the admiral, and you’re right, Nancy, the killer is at Gull House.”

“If you know, then you can’t go without us!” Nancy called to her as she walked out the door.

Alexandra turned back to her and saw Nicholas standing behind her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Too many people will upset all of them.”

“All of them?” Nancy called, but Alexandra made no reply as she hurried to the stables.

As soon as she reached the stable yard, both Artie and Rob materialized from somewhere to help her mount Lucy. They were talkative as usual.

“Did the old lady make her confession?” Rob asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Did she die?” Artie asked.

“I’m afraid she did.”

“Was it something grand and awful? The confession, I mean.” Rob asked.

“Don’t be impertinent, Rob.”

“You’re late making your rounds, Miss,” Artie added.

“I am, indeed,” she said, taking the reins from Rob and nudging Lucy to a quick trot so she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions.

Just as she expected, Annie was reluctant to allow her in the house. “Mrs. Orkwright is resting,” she said, “and she doesn’t need your services anyway. I told that troublesome maid of yours the same. She should have relayed it to you.”

“I’m not here to offer my services. I’m here on an urgent personal matter.”

Annie hesitated a moment, and something changed in her eyes. “It’s John, isn’t it? What are you going to tell her?”

Alexandra took a step into the hall. If Annie chose, she could easily stop her, since she was heavier by three stone. But Annie didn’t stop her. She moved away, her expression grim and defeated as Alexandra entered.

Neither did Annie walk ahead of Alexandra to announce her arrival, as was her duty. Instead, she followed as Alexandra made her way to the parlor where she assumed Jane would be. She was right. Jane sat alone in the cold room, lighted only by the smoky coal fire in the fireplace. She stared out the window at the bleak afternoon while she twisted a handkerchief in her hands. She looked as if she’d been crying. Sensing a presence in the room, she turned her face toward Alexandra and Annie.

Annie spoke to her from behind Alexandra. “Dr. Gladstone is here to see you, madam. She says it’s urgent.”

Jane stiffened. “Is it John? Is something wrong?”

Alexandra hesitated,
then said, “I must speak to you in private, Jane.”

“No,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Annie will remain with me. I know what you are about to say. Annie has told me everything.”

“Everything?” Alexandra felt uncertain.

“I know that she wounded John, but I also know that it was an accident.”

“It is hardly an accident when the firearm is aimed directly at a person and then discharged,” Alexandra said.

“But I didn’t aim it at him!” Annie spoke in a voice far more plaintive than Alexandra ever imagined she could. “I only meant to frighten him. I meant for the bullet to go through the room. I never meant to hit the boy, I swear.”

Alexandra felt a flare of anger. “Surely you know how dangerous it is to fire into a room full of people. You could have killed any one of us. You certainly frightened us all. But why? Why did you want to do that to John?”

Alexandra saw that Annie was now near tears. The woman glanced quickly at Jane and then back to Alexandra, then she tried to speak. “I…”

“Perhaps it’s best you leave us after all,” Jane said before Annie could say more.

Annie said nothing, but she was reluctant to leave. Finally, though, she put both hands to her face and left the room sobbing. Jane stood and went to a table and lit a lamp before she turned back to Alexandra.

“Sit down, please,” she said, indicating a chair. When Alexandra was seated, Jane sat down across from her. “What Annie did was foolish, perhaps even a little insane, but she told me everything. She was afraid of what John would say.”

“I see.”

“Annie did not kill my husband.” Jane’s voice shook slightly.

“I know.”

There was a long silence while Jane’s gaze held Alexandra. “How long have you known?”

“An hour.
Less, perhaps.”

Jane nodded. She sat very straight in her chair with her hands folded casually in her lap. Her eyes were two luminous dark orbs in her pale face. She seemed unable to speak at first, and then she said, “I suppose I should ask how you knew.”

“Just before she died, Mary Prodder told me she killed the admiral.”

“Mary?
Dead?” The word sounded almost like a gasp as Jane brought one of her hands up to cover her mouth.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I know how fond of you she was, and you of her.” Alexandra’s voice shook as she continued. “I never believed her, of course. She made the confession in the hopes that no one would find out the truth. She wasn’t lucid all of the time before she died, but she said something while she was rambling. She said, ‘You mustn’t blame her.
’Twas me told her about the heels.’ She kept going on. She said, ‘We tried to grab Papa’s heels, but he was too quick.’ She’d told me about her father, how brutal he was, how he beat her. I thought it was just the agony of her past flooding her mind. That happens when one is dying. But then I kept thinking about grabbing someone by the heels. I couldn’t think what she meant by that until my maid made mention of a bathtub, and that got me thinking about the fact that you said the admiral had a bath the night he died. If he was drunk enough not to resist, a person could take him by the heels and pull his head under.”

Jane stood and walked to the window, pulling her dark shawl closer around her as Alexandra had seen her do before. “He was drunk, I told you that much,” she said, her back to Alexandra as she stared out the window again.

“And Mary told you how to do it,” Alexandra said.

There was no response from Jane. She kept her back to Alexandra and continued to stare out the window.