Chapter Seventeen #3
“We have not concluded that the Rallisons did anything. And how Dr. Penhollow died is the part we don’t yet know,” I replied. “But it is looking more likely that he was murdered.”
“Well, if you think Ralph Rallison is the guilty party, you couldn’t be more wrong. The man’s too easygoing by half.” She scowled. “He should never have let Martha take that medicine.”
“I don’t suppose she ever revealed to you why she chose to do so?” Hetty asked. “As your friend.”
“She was hoping for a cure, and the doctor convinced her the phosphorus could do the trick.” She made a noise of disgust. “I told her ’twasn’t so, but Martha would have done anything he asked. She was that in love.”
Hetty and I stopped cold, leaving Dotty a step ahead of us. “In love?” I asked once she had turned around. “With Dr. Penhollow?”
Dotty sighed and closed the gap between us. Even though we were many yards away from the houses lining the street, she lowered her voice. “I suppose I may as well tell you. Before she became ill, the two of them were close.”
“Do you mean a love affair?” I asked.
Dotty screwed up her face. “I don’t know that. All I can tell you for certain is Martha was head over heels for the man.”
“Dr. Penhollow?” Hetty asked, as if for clarity. I, too, found it difficult to believe.
“Don’t ask me to explain why,” Dotty said. “I certainly don’t know what she saw in him, but nevertheless, she loved him.” Dotty gestured toward the village, and the three of us began walking again, though much slower than a few moments ago.
“Martha married Ralph the same way most of us choose a man in these parts,” Dotty continued.
“He was decent, hardworking, and kind. There’s not a great lot to choose from, and with those three points in his favor, he was better than most. They set about making a good life together.
How was she to know a man was going to come into her life almost three decades later and make her heart dance around in her chest?
” She snorted. “At the same time, he turned the rest of us away like a bad smell.”
“Of course no one could know that,” Hetty agreed. “And I don’t mean to judge, but one doesn’t have to act on such a feeling.”
Dotty held up a cautioning hand. “Martha was my dear friend, and I won’t judge her, either. She confided to me that she loved him, but nothing else. Whether or not they broke their marriage vows is none of my business.”
Realizing we had slowed to a stop again in the middle of the street, I nodded toward the high street ahead of us, and we moved along once more.
“Since you and Martha were such good friends, I’m surprised she didn’t confess all,” I said.
And considering that Dotty Digby seemed to know everything about everyone else in the village, I found it difficult to believe that she hadn’t been able to worm those details from her friend.
“I asked her not to tell me, and she agreed. It never seemed to me as though she felt she had to unburden herself, so I’d say no matter what was going on between the two of them, she didn’t think she was doing anything wrong.”
“I wonder that she mentioned it at all,” Hetty said.
Dotty grimaced. “She told me she had to share her joy, or she’d burst. The man made her happy, if you can believe that.”
From what I’d heard of Dr. Penhollow, it was difficult to believe he had it in him to make anyone happy, except perhaps by his absence—which gave my two favorite suspects another reason to murder him. “Do you think it possible that Martha told her husband how she felt about Dr. Penhollow?”
“I know she did not.” Dotty’s voice was firm. “When she told me, she specifically said that I was the only one she could share her joy with. That no one else would understand. She gave me a little too much credit there.”
“She must also have expected you to keep this information to yourself,” I said. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m grateful you told us, but is there a chance you let this slip to anyone else?”
Dotty placed a hand on my arm. “I don’t mind you knowing, because it might be important to your investigation. But I wouldn’t want it to ever get back to Ralph, so I’ll thank you to keep that information as close as possible, as I have.”
“Hopefully, it won’t be necessary to mention it at all,” I said, though I doubted my own words. The sergeant would have to be informed. Dr. Penhollow and Martha Rallison’s relationship might be the reason for his murder.
I also had my doubts that Dotty Digby was the only person to know about it.
This was a small village. Everyone knew everyone else’s business.
How could they have kept this secret? I supposed it was possible that Martha confided only in one person, but what about Dr. Penhollow?
If he returned her affections, would he have been able to keep that secret from his wife?
Not to mention that he had been at the Rallisons frequently while he treated Martha.
Would he be able to keep his love for Martha to himself under those circumstances?