Chapter Twenty-Five #3
The throbbing in her temple made it difficult to think. Selena pressed her fingers to her forehead as another saying sprang to mind, the one she and her sisters had been taught in childhood. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t.”
Dr. Scott—no, no, Dr. Dalton—it would take some time to get used to that—had romanced her and used her and lied to her face for days on end, and yet she had trusted him. She would be an even greater fool to trust him now.
“I’ll tell you what I believe, Doctor,” she said wearily.
“I think the first part of your story is true. I think Mr. Clarke did invite you, an up-and-coming doctor, to be his partner to establish a new hospital—to give it legitimacy, as you said. Your claim about Mr. Clarke intending to flee the country—that was your intent, not his. You followed Mr. Clarke here, not to clear your name, or to rescue the money for the hospital—but so you could keep it for yourself and disappear. And you used me as a pawn in your scheme. Does that about sum it up?”
“No.” Dr. Dalton shook his head vehemently. “It does not. I’m telling you—”
“Did you push that statue onto me in the catacombs?” she heard herself exclaim.
“Were you trying to get me out of the way so you could keep the entire fortune for yourself?” She didn’t believe that anymore, not deep down, and didn’t know why she was saying it—perhaps to hurt him, as much as he had hurt her.
Her accusation made him hunch over and visibly wince. “Is that what you really think of me?” His voice broke. “Dear lord, how low I have sunk in your estimation.”
His despairing response once again gave Selena momentary pause, but she swallowed hard, determined not to be taken in.
“It’s the twenty-ninth of December. Our parish constable might be returning today.
I’m going to show him that newspaper article, tell him all that has happened here, and your part in it. ”
The doctor blinked. “I see.” He drew in a long breath and looked away.
When he spoke again, his voice was deadly quiet.
“Before you do that, allow me to set you straight about two things. Earlier, you accused me of killing Mrs. Whitlock. May I remind you that there was only a brief interval, the night she died, where someone might have had the opportunity to poison her nightcap—the few minutes when she had gone to Miss Thompson’s room before retiring.
If you recall, you and I were in your study at the time, discussing the results of the Memory Game. ”
Selena processed that. “Very well,” she conceded, “but—”
“As to whether I tried to dispatch you yesterday in the catacombs … I did lie about why I walked away and left you in the dark for a moment. It was because the plaque on the sarcophagus in that tomb had praised its occupant for her honesty, and I was steeped in guilt that I hadn’t been honest with you.
But that was my only fault. Had I wanted to kill you, after that statue fell, I would have finished the job then and there.
It would have been easy enough to do. And I could have hidden your body in any one of a hundred ancient coffins.
But I did no such thing. Instead, I carried you out of there as fast as my legs could carry me and tended to you to make sure you were all right. ”
Selena saw the truth in that and wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself. She struggled for a reply.
“In fact, I lay awake most of the night,” the doctor continued.
“I was worried sick that your injuries might be more extensive than they had appeared, for the true nature of a concussion can take hours or even days to manifest. I would have sat by your bedside all night myself if I hadn’t worried about propriety.
I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.
But it’s clear to me now that such feelings were out of line and pointless—for you were never mine to lose.
” His eyes looked sad, and he sighed again.
“With regard to your other allegations: everything I’ve told you is true.
What you do with that information is up to you.
And now, I will not infect you with my unwanted presence a moment longer.
” His jaw clenched as he strode past her and down the center aisle of the chapel.
Selena’s mind reeled with sudden confusion as she watched him go.
“Wait!” she exclaimed, but it was too late; he was already out the door.
She started for the exit but felt unsteady on her feet again and only made it as far as the first pew, where she sank down on the hard bench, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
Uncertainty enveloped her like a dark cloud.
Her concerns were valid, weren’t they? Even if, as far as she knew, the doctor hadn’t killed anyone, he had come here under a false name and had lied about so many things—much of what he’d just told her might be untrue.
Although it did seem odd that Mr. Clarke had written that letter to The London Times, instead of going to the police, and unusual that the newspaper had risked a libel suit to publish it …
Mr. Clarke’s worries might have all been genuine.
The doctor had followed him here, after all, determined to find the hidden money, and used Selena as his unwitting accomplice.
She had to turn him in to the constable. Didn’t she?
The chapel door opened, interrupting Selena’s thoughts. Her heart lurched. Had the doctor returned? To her disappointment, it was Mrs. Hillman who entered the sanctuary, her face marred by a frown.
“Selena! Why are you up? I thought you were supposed to stay in bed for another day.”
Selena shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to talk to you.”
Mrs. Hillman made her way down the aisle and sat down beside Selena. “I just passed Dr. Scott in the hall. He had the most thunderous look on his face. Do you know what that’s about?”
“I do.” Tears welled up in Selena’s eyes. “Oh, Mrs. Hillman, there’s so much that I haven’t told you—things that have been going on here this past week. Secrets I’ve kept, hoping to protect you. And now it’s all gone horribly wrong.”
“‘Secrets’?” Mrs. Hillman looked at her. “You have already shared many wild theories with me of late, my dear. But go on, tell me what’s on your mind.”
Selena wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and plunged in, admitting to Mr. Clarke’s dying words and her theory that he’d not only hidden the five thousand pounds he’d raised for the hospital but may have been murdered for it.
She explained that she had teamed up with the doctor to find the money and revealed her suspicions about the death of Mrs. Whitlock.
She decided to lead up slowly to the part where Dr. Dalton had been here under an assumed name—the reasons behind it were still too confusing and heartbreaking.
Mrs. Hillman listened in silence and then turned to Selena with raised eyebrows.
“What an interesting time you’ve been having, Selena.
I thought the past week was already full of shocking events and turmoil, but I see now that what you did tell me wasn’t even the half of it.
” With hooded eyes, she added, “As for Mr. Clarke’s message, you said your search for a dragon was for a school lesson. ”
Selena’s cheeks warmed. “Forgive me. You had been so resistant to every idea I had presented and so adamant that Mr. Clarke was innocent, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about that.
The five thousand pounds has so far eluded our grasp.
There was nothing hidden at the folly and we didn’t find a dragon on a tomb in the catacombs. ”
“It wasn’t a dragon on a tomb,” Mrs. Hillman corrected, her lips pursing. “It was more a dragon in a tomb.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was on the side of a sarcophagus resting on pedestals in a tomb near the end of the passage, I believe.”
“Oh!” Selena committed that information to memory.
If the stone coffin was on pedestals, it might be possible to have hidden something beneath it.
She heaved a sigh. “But I haven’t told you all.
The doctor and I have been questioning the guests, trying to determine if the Webster siblings are here at Darkmoor Park.
And when we were in the catacombs yesterday, someone followed us in and tried to murder me. ”
“Murder you?” Mrs. Hillman’s jaw dropped.
“That’s why I was laid up last night. I suffered a concussion.”
“You said you had tripped and fallen.”
Selena shook her head grimly. “Someone pushed a stone statue onto me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. They came at me from behind.” Heat bloomed in Selena’s cheeks and her chest tightened. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure of all that the doctor had done, she felt bad that she’d thought him culpable of that.
Mrs. Hillman’s brows drew closer together. “Are you sure the statue didn’t fall on its own?”
“I’m sure. Other things have happened this week that could be explained away as accidents, but not this.”
“Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say about that. Or do.”
“Neither do I, to be honest. Apparently, the constable is due back soon. However, I have no idea who’s behind all this yet and no way to prove any of it.” Selena sighed. “And there’s more.”
“More?” Mrs. Hillman put her hand to her heart.
Selena took a deep breath. “As it turns out, Dr. Scott isn’t who we thought he was. He’s been lying since the day he arrived. He was Mr. Clarke’s business partner. And his name isn’t Scott. It’s Dalton.”
Mrs. Hillman grew still at this revelation. At length, she said, “I know, my dear. I know.”
Selena stared at her. “How do you know?”
“Billy brought back two copies of that December 23rd edition of The London Times. I just finished reading it in my front parlor. It was plain as day that Dr. Scott is really Dr. Andrew Dalton.” Mrs. Hillman’s tone was matter-of-fact.
“But … aren’t you shocked? Aren’t you angry?”
“Not really. I thought it proved what I’d always known about Jack Clarke. Or should I say, John Clarke, which I suppose must be his real name.”
“What do you mean? What had you always known about him?”
Mrs. Hillman shrugged. “That Mr. Clarke was a complete and utter rascal.”
Selena was so shocked by this admission that it took her a moment to reply.