Chapter Eighteen #3
As soon as Rose left, a maid brought up the mesh market bag I’d been lugging around all day, reminding me that I’d neglected to give Dr. Bertram Martha Rallison’s medication.
I was also eager to dig a little deeper into Dr. Penhollow’s journal.
But first, I ought to speak with Fiona. Lifting the bag, I set out on a very short search, as I found her only a moment later in her room, preparing for dinner.
“Is it that late already?” I asked from the doorway.
She sat at her dressing table while her maid brushed her hair.
Each sweep of the brush made red lights glow among the chestnut waves.
“There’s enough time for you to update me,” she said, waving me inside.
“But first, before I forget, I sent James to the train station to find out when Mr. Timms actually arrived in the village on Friday.”
I waited with interest.
Fiona’s head bobbed backward as her maid drew her hair into a knot.
“He spoke with the station manager, and it seems that Mr. Timms was telling the truth. The train from Cromer stopped in the village for precisely ten minutes at three o’clock.
Since there were so few passengers, the station manager could report with certainty that Mr. Timms was one of them. ”
I took a seat on the bed, a few feet away from the dressing table.
“Then I suppose we must remove him from the list. Now that I think about it, hasn’t it been over a year since Dr. Penhollow became the coroner?
If that was their only dispute, it would be odd for Mr. Timms to wait so long to enact revenge. ”
“It is best served cold, I understand,” Fiona said.
“That’s what Hetty said about the Rallisons.”
“Well, there you have it. Now, what have you learned?”
I gave her a cautious look. “Before I relay anything to you, tell me, have you heard about the dog?”
“I have,” she said. “Gregory informed me that Rose has a new dog. Cloud.” Since her maid held all of Fiona’s hair in a fierce grip, she glanced as far as she could in my direction. “Is that the same story you heard?”
“That the dog will belong to Rose is still to be determined. I have to make sure Mrs. Penhollow doesn’t want him, and that George is willing to have him. But first, I wanted to ensure that you are not against his being in the house.”
Fiona chuckled. “Cloud’s reputation precedes him, so I’d say in the house is better than outside, where he would have access to the chickens. In short, I don’t mind at all.”
“Thank you, Fi. I’ll make sure that Rose takes responsibility for him. He is rather a nice dog.”
“Enough of that,” Fiona said. “Tell me what transpired today. You were out almost the whole of it. What have you learned?” She glanced at the market bag. “Have you been shopping?”
“No. This contains all the clues I’ve managed to collect.”
“Well, well, a whole bag of clues. Isn’t that fascinating, Jonesy?”
The maid made a noise around the hairpins she held in her teeth. It sounded nothing like fascination or even interest.
Unfazed, Fiona urged me to tell all.
“Prepare yourself to hear some interesting tales of your neighbors,” I warned before telling her of Dr. Penhollow nursing Mrs. Rallison to death after having won her heart and her agreement to the treatment.
I showed her Dr. Penhollow’s journal, then turned to the page related to Martha Rallison.
“It indicates he treated her lung infection with a phosphorus-based medication,” I explained.
I set the journal on the dressing table and removed the bottle of medicine from the bag, holding it up for her inspection.
Fiona groaned. “Hasn’t that been proven to be rubbish?”
“Some twenty years ago, I understand. But Mrs. Rallison was determined to try it.”
With the final pin in place, Fiona dismissed Jonesy and leaned in closer to me. “I assume this means you suspect Ralph Rallison? And possibly Ada, too?”
“Mr. Rallison has an alibi for the morning Dr. Penhollow died.” And now I realized I ought to find out what he was doing the night before. “But I have some suspicions about Charlie Rallison.”
“What about Ada Penhollow?”
“If Ada murdered her husband, she also impoverished herself.” I related what the vicar had told us and Beatrice had confirmed to Rose.
“If Ada found out that her husband was in love with another woman—even one who had died—she might have killed him in a fit of anger, but in the heat of the moment, one doesn’t usually use poison. ”
“Unless one happens to have it on hand.” Fiona wiggled her fingers toward the medicine bottle, then frowned. “Do you know for sure it was poison that killed him?”
“Not yet. I do hope Dr. Bertram comes to a conclusion soon.” I came to my feet. “Meanwhile, I shall take him this sample, in case it is helpful in his analysis, then pore over Dr. Penhollow’s journal more thoroughly. Perhaps it has some secrets to reveal.”
A knock sounded at the door. Fiona opened it to receive a message. With a glance, she handed it to me. “From Dr. Bertram,” she said, grinning. “How interesting.”
“He must be too eager to wait until dinner,” I said, quickly unfolding the page and scanning the note.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Fiona urged. “Does he know what killed Dr. Penhollow?”
“Indeed, he does.” I looked up from the note. “He says it was phosphorus.” I glanced from the note to the little bottle in my other hand. Could I be holding the murder weapon?