Chapter 41
Once the carriages were arranged, Kendra lowered herself into the seat of Sir Preston’s, where the old man joined her a moment later. Laying his cane across his lap, he regarded her intently as the carriage jolted forward.
“Now, madam, tell me what this is about, and why you think Andrew is involved in kidnapping a girl.”
“The girl is an eyewitness to Lady Westford’s murder.”
He shook his head in denial. “You are implying that Andrew killed Lady Westford. Why would he do such a thing?”
“For the same reason Dr. Thornton and Jenny had to die. And,” she added softly, “Mr. Goldsten.”
Surprise flared in the old man’s eyes. “Mr. Goldsten killed himself.”
“How do you know he committed suicide?”
“This is madness. Everyone saw him do it.”
“No, they saw Goldsten go into his office and Dawes follow him in. They heard a gunshot. We only have Dawes’s word that Goldsten killed himself.” She kept her gaze steady on Sir Preston’s. “I think Dawes took Goldsten by surprise and shot him pointblank in the head. Then he pretended to save him.”
Sir Preston sucked in a breath. “I don’t believe it!”
“I actually think Dawes was shocked by his own act of violence.” She remembered the apprentice’s horror. “It couldn’t have been easy for him. To kill his own mentor.”
“You are accusing Andrew of being this . . . this vile mastermind.”
“No. He’s a follower, and was following orders to silence Goldsten before he could talk. He’s not the mastermind.” She slipped her hand in her reticule, and brought out the pistol, pointing it at the physician. “You, Sir Preston, are the mastermind.”
“You are insane, madam!” Sir Preston’s hands convulsed around the silver handle of his cane. “Put that weapon down before you hurt someone.”
Kendra smiled. “If I shoot you, Sir Preston, it won’t be an accident. Where are you taking me, by the way? What message did you give my coachman?”
He blinked. Then, amazingly, he chuckled. “You are quite the , Lady Sutcliffe. My wife told me not to underestimate you.”
That startled Kendra. “Lady Maude is part of this?”
“By this, I assume you’re referring to my little research group?
No. She was merely making a general observation after meeting you.
She’s an astute lady.” He leaned back in his seat, his hands resting loosely on his walking cane.
Kendra thought he looked more comfortable and amused than anyone should be with a gun pointed at them.
“I passed on your message to your coachman that we were going to Mr. Goldsten’s surgery.
I didn’t mention your suspicion regarding Andrew, of course. ”
He tilted his head, regarding her curiously. “You must tell me how you concluded that I was . . . I shan’t be so presumptuous and call myself a mastermind.” He smiled briefly at her. “Let’s just say that I was instrumental in putting the group together.”
“You’re one of the founders of the Metamorphosis Club, a group to discuss advancement and change in the medical community.”
“Is that what gave me away? No,” he answered his own question, shaking his head. “Lucien and I founded the club years ago—long before I had the idea to take what was discussed in our meetings and make it a reality.”
“Isabella Russo told me.”
“Doubtful. The woman was mad even before we finished with her.”
“And tossed her aside like trash.”
“It was clear that it was too late for her. The pox was already rotting her brain as well as her face. She couldn’t be saved, no matter what we did.”
“You gave her false hope. She told me she was being cured by Vivaldi and the saints.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Andrew and his red hair. How odd to be exposed by the rantings of a madwoman. But why did you suspect me?”
“I knew more than one person was involved. Vivaldi and the saints. Every group needs a leader. Someone respected by his peers and followed by his subordinates. You have that kind of reputation, both in your club and at St. George’s. My mistake was that I thought Isabella’s Vivaldi was the leader.”
“Fascinating.”
“You were also insistent—too insistent—about accompanying me to see Dawes, and about using your carriage. I assume your coachman was the one watching me down by the river—and the one who took Edwina.”
He regarded her intently. “You knew this was a trap, and yet you came anyway.”
Kendra wiggled the pistol at him. “I’m not worried.”
“Still, why take the risk?”
“You have Edwina,” she said simply.
“Ah. You knew—or you hoped—that I’d take you to her.”
“I counted on it.” She studied him. “You didn’t kill Lady Westford.” It was a statement of fact. Sir Preston was too old. “Dawes didn’t kill her. He’s not ruthless or cold-blooded enough.”
“Grace’s death was unfortunate,” he sighed. “She’d learned Clarice was getting treatments, and then . . . well, that went disastrously wrong. Still, we thought she’d listen to reason when she knew what we were attempting to do.”
“You thought that because her sister died of typhus, she’d look the other way regarding murder.”
“It wasn’t murder.”
“Excuse me, a ‘failed experiment.’ If you could have persuaded her to see your point of view, she would have made a valuable ally. She had money, status—and, more importantly, the Queen’s ear.”
Sir Preston’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “As I said, it was unfortunate.”
The carriage slowed and turned down a narrow lane. Flicking a quick look out the window, Kendra wasn’t surprised to see the seedier buildings of Blackfriars. “Where are we going?”
“Andrew’s stepfather owns a considerable amount of property in this area. He was kind enough to lease one of his buildings to Andrew, with the expectation that he’ll eventually use it for his own consulting rooms.”
“That’s right,” she said. “He’s Goldsten’s landlord, as well. I suppose it was convenient for Dawes to go from there to Goldsten’s clinic. Unfortunately, you fucked up. Goldsten ran into the girl and Lady Westford saw them together.”
Sir Preston’s face puckered and turned red. “Language!”
Kendra nearly laughed. The man was responsible for unethical experiments leading to a woman’s death and was involved in a conspiracy to commit murder, and yet he was offended by her profanity.
“Why don’t you tell me about your experiments,” she said. “Why focus on syphilis?”
His mouth compressed. “It’s a scourge on humanity. I witnessed its effects firsthand when Andrew’s father died of it twenty years ago. Andrew was only four, but it impacted him. I knew he would want to be part of our research. And there’s no shortage of test subjects.”
“What you really mean is you wanted to experiment on women who held no power.”
He gave a derisive snort. “They’re hardly productive members of society. Soiled doves. How do you think they became infected in the first place?”
“They’re human beings.”
“You’re missing the point, madam. It’s not about them.
Those women were already dead. They were infected with the pox.
We didn’t give it to them. They were willing participants in our research.
” His hands tightened on the silver handle of his cane as he leaned forward, his eyes brightening with excitement.
“Put aside the sentimental claptrap, and think! What if we are able to cure the pox? And not only the pox, but all illnesses of the blood!”
His hypothesis was flawed at its core. Syphilis wasn’t a blood disease; it was a sexually transmitted infection caused by bacteria. But she could hardly tell him that. Instead, she asked, “How do your treatments work?”
“We syphon off the blood and circulate it through an electrical machine, then return it to the body. The electricity acts as a purifier, removing disease from the blood.”
Kendra regarded him incredulously. “How do expect the person to stay alive when the blood is removed?”
“Don’t be daft! It’s a closed loop. We don’t remove all the blood. We begin the transfusion, passing it through the machine, and the purified blood is returned to the body before the rest of the diseased blood is removed.”
“What went wrong with Clarice?”
He blew out a breath. “Andrew and I were scheduled to conduct the treatment, but I was unexpectedly delayed. Foolishly, Andrew proceeded without me. The machine malfunctioned and he couldn’t replace her blood in time.
She perished.” His eyebrows twitched in irritation.
“The boy panicked and disposed of the body in the river.”
“Why’d you remove the eyes and uterus after you stole the body?”
“Andrew should’ve removed them before disposing of the body,” Sir Preston said, annoyance sharpening his voice. “We can learn from everything. By dissecting organs, we increase our knowledge on how the body operates.”
“You crossed a line, Sir Preston. You murdered people—”
“Not I!”
“You were part of it!” she shot back. “Lady Westford, Goldsten, Jenny . . . Dr. Thornton. I thought he was your friend.”
“I was with him when his wife died of her blood disease. Of all people, he knew what I was trying to accomplish. And yet he was ready to destroy everything!” He drew in a shaky breath and made a visible effort to compose himself.
“It was you, my lady. If you hadn’t interfered .
. . he lost his nerve only when you began your blasted inquisition. ”
“I guess his conscience got the better of him.”
Sir Preston’s eyes narrowed. “You still don’t understand. What we are doing is beyond the ordinary. Someday, society will understand and fall to their knees in thanks.”
Talk about a God complex. “They’re more likely to hang you for murder.”
“It was one mistake. One person to save thousands! Millions! Society will view us more favorably than you do, Lady Sutcliffe, if the outcome is a cure for the pox. Especially when the girl’s death wasn’t even intentional.”
“You dumped her body in the Thames like she was nothing.”
“She was nothing, damn your eyes! If we’d been successful, she would’ve achieved the immortality she’d pursued on stage.”
The chance of a cure, the promise of fame. No wonder Clarice and Isabella had been lured in.
“How many?” Kendra asked. “How many women did you experiment on?”
“Only those two. Before them, dogs, sheep, pigs.”
“The results?” She saw it in his eyes. “Mixed. And you still moved to human trials.”
He frowned. “We’ve had more successes than failures.”
The carriage was slowing.
“How many in your group? Dawes. Thornton—until he lost his nerve.” And then his life. “You, obviously. How many more?”
His mouth curved in a slow smile. “You’ll soon find out.”