One end of the white marble statue was stained with blood.
“Excellent. You’re here.” Mrs. Crowson sounded as if she had been expecting her, as if she’d rung a bell and the bellboy had arrived.
Inez snuck her hand through the side slit of her cloak and into her secret dress pocket. She almost swore out loud.
No pocket pistol.
Then, she recalled Mark earlier that evening, his fingers warm on her wrist, saying, “You won’t need that tonight.”
“Please, pull your hand out of your pocket slowly,” said Crowson. “I want to see it empty.”
Inez eyed her, wondering if she could, perhaps, physically subdue the nurse. Obviously, Mrs. Crowson was strong. And she was in trousers, whereas Inez was hampered by her evening dress. Tight skirts didn’t make for swift movements, so Inez didn’t think she could outrun the nurse. Of course, there was always screaming for help.
Crowson sighed, shifted the bloody statue to her other hand, reached into the basket next to the phonograph and pulled out a revolver. “I really don’t want to use this, Mrs. Stannert. Makes far too much noise. But I will if I must. Now, I’ll keep Dr. Prochazka company, and you do the housekeeping. Then, we will decide what to do with you.”
Inez slowly pulled her empty hand out of her pocket.
“Better,” said the nurse with a nod, as if commending a patient for swallowing a particularly evil-tasting dose. “Now, please remove your cloak. I want to be able to see your hands and what they are doing at every moment. You are too fast and clever by half. It’s not good for a woman to be so clever. I know.”
“What do you mean?” Inez slowly, so as to not antagonize her, unfastened the clasp and let the cloak slither to the floor.
“Lovely,” said Crowson. Inez wasn’t certain if she meant her dress or the fact that she’d obeyed with a minimum of fuss. “I know because I, too, am a clever woman, and the only way I’ve been able to utilize that talent is by disguise and subterfuge. It was not the life I wanted.”
“The War? Dr. Galloway?”
“Ah yes. You’ve learned a great deal in a few days. Yes, the War. Everyone believed Victor was a brilliant surgeon.”
Inez swallowed hard.
She called him Victor to my face. This cannot be good
. She glanced around furtively, for something close at hand that could be used as a weapon.
Crowson continued, “I made myself be content to be his shadow, his younger brother, the assistant surgeon, but he and I, we both knew the truth. I was the hands behind the healing, the one who guided the blade he held at each and every surgery and amputation. I whispered the words he was to use, told him what treatments to apply. In this way, I was able to stay in the unit with him and assist in the operations, be an equal of the other men, looked up to for my abilities. Until Galloway.” Her hand shook, then steadied. “But that won’t happen again. Now, we have a second chance. I know he will listen to me when I explain the situation, show him the opportunity. He owes me that much. I gave up my life for him, and now it is his turn.”
“You have committed murder and mayhem in the name of medicine,” said Inez. “A true healer would shrink away in horror and disgust. I cannot imagine he will listen to you, once he finds out what you have done.”
“He’ll never know. He believes whatever I say. You’ve given me a splendid idea, which I will explain so you are not tempted to do something stupid. If I must shoot you, I shall simply put the revolver in the doctor’s hand. The story can be that you killed each other. A little messy to explain, but one can always conjecture. The motivation will be clear, however. I know, as did the doctor, that the DuChamps boy is really your son. I know the doctor told the DuChamps that he strongly advises that your son not go back to Leadville. Too high, you know. You learn of this. You are a passionate woman. You become incensed, distraught. And you are prone to drink. Yes, I know that. So did Dr. Prochazka, and he warned your husband of the dangers you were in, soon after his arrival. If I’m not wrong, I believe you have been drinking earlier this night. Again, excellent. We all know that alcohol quickens, excites, and animates the vital forces. So, in your passion and determination, you come to the doctor’s clinic to seduce him and convince him to change his mind.”
The gun rose and fell, indicating Inez’s evening dress. “Perhaps it can even be suggested that your husband put you up to this act of immorality. He will deny it, of course. But his background is such that who will believe him?”
She nodded, pleased. “I hate to lose Mr. Stannert as a possible investor, but there is no hope for it, so I might as well destroy any credibility he has here and drive a wedge between him and Mr. DuChamps. Yes, it is brilliant. It will work.”
Her eyes snapped back into focus, glinting in the light from the table lamp. “So, Mrs. Stannert. You had best obey my every word, if you hope to convince me that it isn’t more advantageous to kill you. Now, to work.”
“What am I to do?”
Whatever it is, I’ll do it slowly as possible, and hope that I get an opportunity to act.
Crowson pointed with the gun to a large crate below the counter where Prochazka conducted his research. “Just take everything on the surface, pull the photographs and notes from the wall, and toss them in. Be careful. The doctor was culturing various strains of tuberculosis on the Petri dishes. I don’t know what might happen if you cut yourself on the glass and some gets under your skin.”
Glad that she was wearing evening gloves, Inez moved slowly over to the counter. “Since I’m to be your housemaid, perhaps you can explain to me why you killed Dr. Prochazka. He said he’d found the mechanism for consumption. He was thinking of leaving Manitou. If you wanted him out of the way, why not simply let him go?”
Inez picked up one glass dish between two fingers and dropped it into the crate with a crash.
“No, no, silently please. Why Dr. Prochazka? He told me of his research success this evening. He was exuberant, of course. But he didn’t see what that would mean to us. All the tonics and medicines would be useless. What good is a mineral springs against a bacterium? All the people who flock here would stop coming. Dr. Prochazka was correct about one thing: once the enemy is identified, it is just a matter of time before someone comes up with the proper weapon. We would be truly ruined, and Victor would not recover from such a devastation.”
“But Dr. Prochazka’s colleague, Dr. Koch, is on the same trail.” Inez picked up a half-full flask and lowered it into the crate. “It’s just a matter of time.”
“I’ll take some time over none. All I want to do is convince Victor he must return to the medical field and we will do as we did before. We have Prochazka’s tonics. I kept his receipt book. Victor can turn the running of the hotel over to someone else, and he can become the hotel’s physician and I will once again be his hands and guide him. We don’t need Prochazka anymore, and we certainly don’t need his ‘research’ on phthisis.” She gestured with the pistol. “A little faster, Mrs. Stannert. Dawn will be here soon.”
“How did you kill him?”
“Easy enough. Unlike Robert Calder, who refused my tea—and I knew he would, so I had prepared—Dr. Prochazka has some every night at about three in the morning, to help him sleep. He is an insomniac and finds the mint relaxes him. This time, there was more than mint.”
“Why the statue?”
“When I came in, expecting he would be in a swoon, he wasn’t. Alas, I had no choice.” She sounded sad. “Violence is not my way.”
“Is not your way? What about Calder?”
“Well, you know about the herb Paris. I had access. I had keys. By the way, right after you and your husband left this evening, I went into your rooms.” She reached into the basket and pulled out a passkey to the hotel. “So, I knew it was you. You were in Victor’s rooms yesterday and mine as well. I sensed someone had been there. The chair had been moved. There was a disturbance of things. Then, Mr. Travers showed me your husband’s card.” She shook her head. “How much wiser you would both have been to simply take your walks and enjoy the scenery.”
“So, Calder.” Inez removed a tower of Petri dishes, bent to bring them close to the floor of the crate. They slithered in, clattering.
“I thought if his horse became ill, he would stop his silly questions. Perhaps he would be injured as well, or at least inconvenienced. I didn’t know events would unfold as they did. Then, he became wild. You saw him in the garden. I knew I had to take direct action, because eventually he would destroy Victor and perhaps uncover my part as well. So, I made certain I was out walking that evening. He stopped, as any proper gentleman would, and offered me a ride to the hotel. I told him my conscience would not rest, I’d been out walking, trying to decide what to do, and that I had to confide in him about his brother. He came to my rooms with great eagerness to hear what I had to say. He refused my tea, and instead took the offer of a glass of port from a sealed bottle.” A pale smile ghosted across her round face. “Sealed. Do you not see the folly of his choice, Mrs. Stannert?”
“You poisoned the bottle of port.”
“There was no other way to quiet him. It was quick, painless. He became unconscious. I injected his heart with air, just to be sure. I put him in the invalid chair and rolled him up the canyon. I didn’t want him to be found near the hotel. I didn’t want any connection with the hotel. We have had enough troubles as it is, and I do not want to drive paying visitors away. No one saw me. If they did, well, so what? The pre-dawn air can be beneficial for some, easing the breathing. That would have been my story.”
“So you dumped his body in Williams’ Canyon, maneuvered the boulder on that bench of rock into the invalid chair.” Inez’s hand shook. She picked up a heavy microscope.
“No, no, leave those there. I’ve decided it will be better for the story I’m to tell. So, yes, I used the chair. However, I miscalculated. The boulder was so heavy, it nearly broke the chair’s mechanisms. Still, it all worked. You needn’t mourn Calder too much. As I said, he was well dead by that time.”
Inez shuddered. “Did you want Mrs. Pace to die also?”
“Absolutely not. As with the horses, events that were supposed to unfold in a certain way, did not. After the mishap in the Garden of the Gods, I determined I would be in control of all the factors.”
“What was supposed to happen with Mrs. Pace?”
“I extracted the digitalis from the foxglove. Measured the amount carefully. Pulled out only as much tonic as needed, and injected the digitalis in its place. If Kirsten Pace had taken the proper dosage, her heart would have weakened at altitude, but that is all. She would have become short of breath, and they would have returned quickly, contritely. The Paces would have seen that we were right and they were wrong: it was dangerous for them to go to Leadville. Why would Mr. Pace want to look for investment opportunities there, when the Mountain Springs House is here? Leadville doesn’t need his money,
we
do!”
The naked ferocity in her voice caused Inez to clutch the doctor’s notebook to her breast, as if paper and leather could be armor against a moving bullet. Her mind raced, trying to see things the way the nurse might.
“So, it was just supposed to be a lesson,” offered Inez. “Not lethal at all. Because, after all, you want the Paces to be on your side.”
“Yes, yes. That’s it. A lesson.” Mrs. Crowson’s head bobbed. “But things went awry. Mr. Pace took ill. I assume the altitude, although why he and not his wife felt the effects, I don’t understand. And then, he drank the entire bottle! The entire bottle! I made it very clear: only a teaspoon, and only three times a day.”
“So, he essentially killed himself.”
“Exactly, Mrs. Stannert.” She sounded pleased that Inez understood.
“The notebooks too?” Inez held it out to her, as if she might want to keep them. “Seems such a waste. All his work.”
“Toss them. Especially them.”
She did. “How are we to explain the doctor’s death?”
Assuming I can stay alive and not become a part of this ghastly tableau.
“My plan is this. He needs to be taken out of here.” She looked down at the crumpled body and mess of blood on the floor. “His papers and experiments must be destroyed too. I was thinking that a fire in the clinic would do. Perhaps they will think he simply died in the fire.”
“But people will rally and attempt to put out the flames,” pointed out Inez, a half-empty flask dangling innocently in one hand. “If you are going to hide the body, perhaps just put out that he left in the night? Just disappeared? People do that all the time.”
Mark did.
“We can suggest that he was planning on returning to Germany. Perhaps, being the eccentric sort he is, he just gathered up his papers and left. He might have mentioned his success at his experiments and plans to return to others, so, while it might seem odd for him to vanish, it might not be entirely out of character.”
Crowson thought, then smiled broadly, approvingly. “I knew I did the right thing in not shooting you when you walked in the door. We will be most excellent confederates, and you will convince your husband to invest well and heavily in the hotel.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I will tell you this, lest you might be tempted to cross me and talk to your husband, your sister, the marshal, my brother, anyone at all. Mr. DuChamps has agreed to allow his wife, that is, your sister, and your son to winter over in Manitou, at our hotel. What a tragedy it would be if either your sister or your son should, well, suddenly fail dangerously in health. You may think that by telling them to not take the tonic, you could save them. But they must eat. They must drink. They must breathe. And I have all the keys.”