Chapter Five
“Are you saying there were no police officials whatsoever in the village?” Fiona asked when the footman had explained why he had returned alone. “I am certain Sergeant Hewitt said he’d leave a constable behind.”
“He did, my lady,” James replied. “Police Constable Ellis. And he just left on the train to Cromer to see how his sister weathered the storm.”
Fiona closed her eyes and sighed.
James turned from her to me. “The constable should be back this evening, but I don’t see him coming all this way to look at the body, ma’am.”
“Whyever not?” I asked. “Isn’t that his job?”
Fiona gave me an apologetic look. “Constable Ellis is an octogenarian with lumbago. He retired twenty years ago but still volunteers his services on occasion. I believe those services are confined to taking down reports and keeping the station open. It would appear that Sergeant Hewitt didn’t expect any crime in the village over the next few days. ”
Clearly. I turned back to the footman. “What about a doctor?”
James ducked his head. “No one in the village. Mrs. Digby from the mercantile suggested I fetch Dr. Bertram from Aylsham, but I wanted to report to you before I traveled any farther.”
I drew a calming breath and considered our options.
Actually, there was just the one—send James for the doctor in Aylsham.
It was seven miles away, so once James returned to Hadley Grange for a horse, it would take him an hour at the very least to ride there.
The same for the return trip, and that was if the doctor was available to leave immediately. What were the odds of that?
As much as I hated to do it, we were left with no choice but to move the body of Dr. Penhollow.
It could take anywhere from a few hours to a full day for the doctor to arrive.
I didn’t know if lying in the muck would damage any evidence on the body, but for the sake of the man’s dignity alone, we couldn’t simply leave him here.
We still had the blankets we’d planned to take to the village.
We could use them to wrap the body so the two men who had arrived with Fiona could more easily carry it.
But where?
The village might be a mere twenty minutes by foot, but even if that wasn’t too far to ask the men to carry the heavy burden, with the constabulary empty, where could we safely leave a dead body?
Fiona, who had been watching me, let out a sigh, as if she’d read my mind. “Penhollow Manor is the closest place.” She gestured to the body. “But I don’t relish the idea of presenting him to his wife in his present state.”
“No. I don’t think that would be wise, either,” I said. “I’d really like to have a doctor determine his cause of death before we surrender his remains to the family. Else he could be buried before we learn how he died.”
“Then he must come to Hadley Grange,” Fiona said, as if housing the body of Dr. Penhollow was no more trouble than taking home a stray kitten.
“He always liked the place. We can keep him in the conservatory until we find a doctor. We don’t use it, and it’s much cooler there than in the house.
But that does not save us from calling on Ada Penhollow.
She must be wondering where her husband is by now, don’t you think? Someone must tell her.”
“I can go,” I said. “We should send someone to fetch Sergeant Hewitt, too.”
Fiona stared at me. “How are we to do that? The train took them to the coast, or as far as they could get, and it won’t return until they do.”
“Surely, we can send someone on horseback to find them?” I leaned closer to her. “What if Dr. Penhollow really was murdered? The sergeant will need to conduct an investigation.”
“I suppose we could send someone after him, but remember, the roads are blocked. The men will be clearing from the coast inland. Our rider could be stuck waiting for them to break through, in which case, they would be on their way home, anyway. I believe our best option is to fetch the doctor from Aylsham and pay a call on Constable Ellis tomorrow, not that I think he’ll be of much help. ”
Octogenarian or not, he was better than nothing. “I can share the notes and drawings with him and see if he has any suggestions.”
“That’s right. And when the doctor examines Dr. Penhollow, we may find he died of natural causes.”
In the absence of other viable options, I agreed.
“Then it’s settled,” Fiona said. “Let me instruct those two men about where to put Dr. Penhollow, and I’ll accompany you to call on his widow. I’m her closest neighbor, after all. I ought to be there.”
That was fine with me. I had no acquaintance with Ada Penhollow, and such news was better coming from a friend.
We approached the two men, and had them roll Dr. Penhollow onto one of the blankets.
I noted that there were no signs of injury to the front of his body, which up to this point had been hidden from us.
I learned nothing about what might have caused his death.
Poor Dr. Penhollow suffered the indignity of being swaddled like a baby so the two men could carry him the half mile or so back to the manor house. It was a good thing the rigor mortis hadn’t fully set in, or they’d have a much more difficult time of it.
“Make sure you take him to the conservatory,” Fiona instructed. “There ought to be an empty table in there to lay him upon.”
“And don’t allow anyone in the room until we return,” I said. “Particularly the children.”
The two men set off for the house, leaving us with James. “I’m afraid I need you to find that doctor in Aylsham,” I told him. “I understand he might be busy tending to the living, but we are in need of his services just as soon as he can get away.”
“You might do better traveling by horse than to depend on the train to be running,” Fiona added. “Stay in Aylsham overnight if you must. Take a room at the inn and have the proprietor send the bill to Hadley Grange.”
“Yes, ma’am,” James said with no little enthusiasm and made a hasty departure for the house.
“He seemed rather eager to be off,” I said.
“I’m sure he’s happy to be away from the routine of his duties at least for one day. Besides, I’ve heard he has a sweetheart in Aylsham.” She rolled her eyes. “Let us hope he remembers to find the doctor for us.”
“Speaking of the doctor …” I turned back to the flattened and torn mass of wet vegetation that remained after the men had removed Dr. Penhollow. “Does anything look out of place to you?”
“I assume you mean other than the body that’s been taken away?”
I sighed, but to her credit, Fiona did examine the field before shaking her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Then let’s be off. James is likely to mention Dr. Penhollow’s death when he gets to Aylsham. In fact, it’s likely he has already mentioned it in the village. I’d prefer that Mrs. Penhollow not be the last to know.”
“Good point,” Fiona said. “If we go through the trees here, we’ll come out along the lane that leads to the Penhollows’ home.”
I pulled my collar a little tighter around my neck.
Though my coat was perfectly adequate for the short walk to the village, standing out in the cool, damp breeze for the past hour had chilled me.
Thank goodness the gum boots were keeping my feet dry.
I moved toward the stand of trees, alongside Fiona. A walk should warm me up.
Since none of our group had walked in this direction, I kept my eyes on the ground.
This looked to be a well-traveled path, used by both humans and wildlife.
The only prints that appeared to be recent likely belonged to Dr. Penhollow.
Once we were well into the forest, I gave up my study of the ground.
“How well do you know the Penhollows?” I asked Fiona.
“Not intimately,” she said. “But since we live so near, when we are in the country, I see them now and then and I hear quite a bit about them.”
In London Fiona knew everything about everyone. I would be surprised, and a bit disappointed, if the same weren’t true here.
“Penhollow Manor was previously owned by Sir Oscar Penhollow, a bachelor. He was a charming and kind old man. When he passed, the house went to Joshua, the oldest of his two nephews. Their father, Oscar’s brother, had predeceased him.
That was about four years ago. Joshua and Ada and her youngest daughter moved here from Suffolk.
” She paused. “Ada’s first husband passed when their daughters were mere girls, and she married Dr. Penhollow a year or so later.
She is very pleasant, and Beatrice, their daughter, is quite witty. ”
“And Dr. Penhollow?” I prompted.
Fiona made a sour face. “Not pleasant or witty. The first time we met, I gave him the benefit of doubt. He was remarkably pompous—playing the country squire, I suppose. A second meeting informed me that I should do my best to avoid him, but as it turned out, we were both on the organizing committee for the spring fete. To be honest”—she gave me a sharp look—“and only to you would I admit this, but I’m not sure how I avoided strangling the man with my own hands. ”
“Goodness, Fi, that must—”
“He was horrible!” The intensity of her words was compounded by the fact that she leaned toward me to deliver them.
“I understand that he worked as a doctor, and much of that occupation involves telling people what to do to better their health.” She flapped a hand as if dismissing Dr. Penhollow’s advice.
“But I have never had anyone attempt to order me about as if I were his servant.” She slapped a hand to her chest. “I was the head of the committee!”
Fiona was becoming quite animated about the matter.
I, on the other hand, was more focused on getting to the end of this path and on to the road, which I could see ahead.
The patch of conifers had given way to deciduous trees.
Their naked branches dripped icy water, which splashed on my hat and ran down my forehead.
The soft ground squished under my boots. I could be in our cozy home in London.