Chapter 3 #2
The receptionist twisted her handkerchief more vigorously. “I can’t say…” Her voice was barely above a whisper and her face flamed. She wouldn’t meet my gaze, or Harry’s.
I gave him a look.
He understood its meaning and got up. “I need to stretch my legs,” he said, leaving the parlor.
I tried again. “Miss Wainsmith, if you know something then you must tell me, even if you don’t think it matters. Even if you think it implicates someone you like.”
She pressed the handkerchief to her nose and seemed to reach a conclusion.
“You’re right. My loyalty is to Dr. Iverson, no one else.
Not that I think Mrs. Iverson is guilty, you understand.
Anyway, it’ll be good to get it off my chest. I haven’t told a soul, and it’s been eating away at me.
It’s rather shocking you see. I can’t even look at you while I recount it.
” She turned away from me and spoke to the blue lampshade on the side table.
“About two or three weeks ago, at the end of the day, Sister Dearden and I walked home together. But when I got here, I remembered I’d left a letter from my mother that I’d been reading in my desk drawer at work.
I wanted to finish it that night, so I told Sister Dearden that I was going back to retrieve it.
She loaned me her key and I used it to re-enter the clinic.
I assumed Dr. Iverson had gone home, but then I heard a noise coming from his consulting room.
I thought I’d poke my head in to tell him why I’d returned but when I opened the door and looked in, I saw…
” She covered her mouth with the handkerchief.
After a moment, she removed it. “I saw the doctor on top of someone on the daybed. They were both naked.”
I bit my lip to stop myself making a sound of surprise. Reminding Miss Wainsmith that I was there might stop her divulging more out of embarrassment.
“I’ll never forget the look on his face. He was horrified. As was I. I quickly left, but not before I saw the woman’s face. It was Isabel Kempsey.”
This time I couldn’t stop myself uttering a small sound.
Miss Wainsmith had seen the doctor in a very compromising situation with the victim!
He hadn’t informed Harry, which might or might not mean anything.
What I really wanted to know was whether Mrs. Iverson had lied to us, and did indeed know about the affair.
If she did, she’d just become the main suspect.
Not only would murdering Mrs. Kempsey get rid of her husband’s lover, he’d be hanged for the murder.
“Do you think anyone else knows?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t told a soul. Not even Sister Dearden. Dr. Iverson never acknowledged the incident. Neither he nor I mentioned it the following day. We went about our business as if nothing was amiss.”
Harry’s voice was loud and clear as he thanked Sister Dearden for the key in the corridor. They both appeared in the doorway. Sister Dearden arched her brows at Miss Wainsmith, who blushed again and looked away. Sister Dearden offered to walk us to the door.
I wasn’t quite finished, however, but my question was for her.
“You say the Electro Therapy Machine doesn’t work, but what do you think of Dr. Iverson’s other treatments?
The tonic that Mr. Pierce’s wife took, for instance.
What’s it called?” I watched Harry out of the corner of my eye.
If he knew I was fishing, he didn’t try to stop me.
Sister Dearden seemed to suspect, however, going by her hesitation as she thought through her answer.
“I don’t have anything to say about that,” she finally said.
“The thing is, Dr. Iverson is a good man. He’s generous, easy to get along with, and treats me like an equal when most doctors would look down their noses at a nurse.
I shouldn’t have said what I said about the Electro Therapy Machine not being particularly effective, and I won’t repeat it, so please don’t ask me to.
As far as tonics and pills are concerned, if an eminent doctor says they work, then who am I to say they don’t? ”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Harry got in first. “We appreciate your predicament, Sister Dearden. Thank you. If you think of anything else, please contact me.” He handed her a business card.
“Your name isn’t on here, Miss Fox. Mr. Armitage introduced you as his associate earlier, not assistant.”
“This is Mr. Armitage’s case,” I said. “This time I am his assistant.”
“We’re a team,” Harry countered. “I can’t solve my cases without her.”
“How nice to hear a man give a woman the credit she’s due,” Sister Dearden said with a smile for him. “That’s how it is with Dr. Iverson and me. I’m fortunate that he asks my professional opinion from time to time.”
Once Harry and I were out of earshot, I asked him if he thought the nurse was being too effusive in her praise for the doctor.
“You mean, is she his lover?” he asked.
“I meant is she infatuated with him, but perhaps you’re right and she’s his lover, too.”
“Too? Is that what Miss Wainsmith wanted to tell you in private? That she is his lover? She was even more effusive in her praise than the nurse… If she is his lover, the man has gone down further in my estimation. He’s taking advantage of the girl.
Not only is she a lot younger than him, she’s his employee. It’s wrong.”
“She’s not his lover, but I think your estimation of the doctor will remain low when you hear that his lover was in fact Isabel Kempsey.”
Harry stopped and gawped at me. He made a noise, part scoff, part humorless laugh, part grunt. “I need a stern word with my client.”
I looped my arm through his and massaged the tense muscles through his sleeve.
He soon relaxed, and we ambled rather than walked, our direction aimless.
Neither of us wanted to part, but the afternoon was growing late, and we both knew I didn’t have time to join him in questioning more suspects.
Even though my aunt and uncle afforded me considerable freedom to come and go from the hotel as I pleased, they didn’t like me to be out after dark.
Besides, a family dinner was planned for that evening, and I’d need to change and have my hair done.
Harry guessed what I was thinking and suggested we question the suspects together tomorrow. “I’ll return to Iverson’s clinic after I escort you back to the hotel and retrieve the addresses we need from the files.”
“You don’t have to wait until tomorrow,” I said. “It’s your case. You should call on the suspects now if you can.”
“And miss a golden opportunity to spend more time with you? Not a chance.”
I tightened my grip on his arm. “Thank you.”
“I also want to visit the manufacturer of the Electro Therapy Machine and check that my understanding of it is correct, and whether its malfunction could have been a fault after all. There’s still a lot we don’t know about the device.
We should also talk to the victim’s husband, particularly in light of what Miss Wainsmith admitted. ”
“It’s going to be a long day,” I said. “I’ll have an early night and meet you at your office at nine.”
“Do you have evening plans?”
“Just a dinner in the hotel restaurant. As far as I know, we aren’t dining with any of the guests, but that may have changed. Uncle Ronald makes a habit of inviting people to sit at our table at the last minute.” I wrinkled my nose. “I hope he doesn’t invite Mr. Lombardi.”
“Who is Mr. Lombardi and why don’t you want to sit with him?” He stopped and rounded on me, eyes narrowed to slits. “Your uncle isn’t trying to marry you off to him, is he?”
“No. Mr. Lombardi is not a suitor. He’s the owner of the company that manufactures the tonic Aunt Lilian used.”
His brows rose. “And he’s staying at the hotel?”
“Not just staying there. He has hired the ballroom to make a presentation to dozens of attendees from the pharmaceutical and medical professions. We realized too late that his company makes that tonic, and now it’s all arranged, and Uncle Ronald doesn’t want to cancel.
It’s too important to the hotel, he says, but isn’t his wife’s health more important?
If she finds out that Mr. Lombardi makes that tonic and her husband knew and still supported the business, how will that make her feel?
She’s delicate at the moment. She needs to know he’s prepared to put her well-being above the hotel’s reputation and profit.
By letting the presentation go ahead, he’s sending the message that the hotel is more important to him than she is. ”
Harry took both my hands in his. “I think you need to spell it out to Sir Ronald. He won’t knowingly upset Lady Bainbridge for the sake of the hotel, but he’s not the most perceptive when it comes to women.”
He was right. Not all men were as empathetic as Harry. His understanding of women probably had a lot to do with being brought up by his birth mother while living in an all-girls school where she taught. He’d had no father figure, and had been surrounded by women in his formative years.
Before we turned onto Piccadilly, he kissed my gloved hand warmly before releasing it. When I reached Frank at the Mayfair Hotel’s door, I turned and gave Harry a little wave. He waved back then joined the many other pedestrians hurrying along the pavement.
In the foyer, I smiled a greeting to Goliath, the extremely tall porter, as he passed me wheeling a trolley laden with luggage.
To my surprise, he smiled back. He’d been rather low in spirits lately, ever since his sweetheart decided to end their relationship after she’d been dismissed from her position at the hotel.
Although his friends all told him she didn’t care about him enough to fight for their relationship, he’d still felt as though her dismissal was all his fault. I was glad to see him happy again.
“Mr. Hobart has been looking for you for quite a while, Miss Fox,” he said.