Chapter 22 #2
“Dr. Macleod was a morphia addict.”
“Oh. Does that explain his extravagant manner?”
Tom nodded. “Most likely he started taking it to deaden the memories of the War, but the stuff doesn’t help in the end, just makes the nightmares more vivid.
And chances are he’d never have got off it.
I’ve seen plenty of ’em, and when they’re that far gone .
. . Well, maybe he’d’ve doubled his money and bought a practice, but whether it’d’ve done him any good is another matter. ”
“Oh, that poor man!”
“Very unfortunate. Only thing is, from what you’ve said, Mrs. Fletcher—and this is pure speculation, mind—”
“Such as the Chief constantly exhorts me to avoid?”
“Not quite that pure. I’d be pretty surprised, I own, if it didn’t turn out to be true. What I reckon is, Dr. Macleod’s sudden big stake and the proceeds of Rumford’s blackmailing activities are one and the same pot of money.”
And the more Daisy thought about it, the more it made a dreadful kind of sense. While Rumford lay helpless in the hospital, Macleod had had every opportunity to borrow his keys.
“We’ve been wondering where his takings went,” Tom continued.
“We’ve plenty of evidence that he was extorting money from a number of people, yet young Piper found nor hide nor hair of it when he searched the house, and he’s a pretty good searcher, though I say it as him who trained him.
So it looks to me like the doctor stole it. ”
“Yes, that would explain what Rumford meant. Macleod couldn’t resist the temptation of easy access to his keys while he was in hospital.”
“That’s how I see it. The one thing that puzzles me is why the doctor would be sitting there in the sun chatting, in full view, while Rumford went into his house and discovered the theft.
Wouldn’t you think he’d’ve made himself scarce?
I suppose, fuddled with the morphia, he might not’ve expected Rumford to put two and two together. ”
“Oh, I almost forgot. When Rumford came out of his house looking sort of bewildered, I asked the doctor whether he was really well enough to leave the hospital. And Macleod said he hadn’t ordered his release.”
“You’re sure of that? Evidence, not speculation?” Tom took out his notebook again to write down their exact words, as near as Daisy could recall. “Thank you. This clears up that question nicely. I’d better be getting along to tell the Chief. You going to be all right, Mrs. Fletcher?”
“Yes, thank you, Tom. They’re very kind to me here, and a friend is coming to fetch me, take me home. Alec can ring me up there if he needs to ask anything else. Oh, I’ve just thought—I’ll have to meet Sakari at the Bloody Tower. The steps . . .”
“Not much I can do about the layout of the Tower, but if you can bring yourself to go down the shortcut steps, the others are all screened off. I could walk you down there if it’d help.”
“You’re a perfect dear, but I know the Chief needs you.
I don’t want to keep you waiting while I say my good-byes, and I really must say my good-byes properly this time.
Especially as I don’t think I’ll ever want to come back to the Tower.
When the twins are old enough, you’ll have to do your godfatherly duty and bring them. ”
“I’ll look forward to it.” Tom patted her shoulder and went off.
Daisy powdered her nose. As she put on her hat, removed by Fay to allow her to lie back on the cushions, Fay and Brenda burst into the room.
“We were watching.”
“From the stairs.”
“Can’t you tell us what’s happened?”
“We’re not allowed to leave the house.”
“We’ll find out soon anyway,” Fay coaxed.
That was true. Perhaps Tom had refused to enlighten them simply to avoid the ensuing brouhaha. Why shouldn’t she tell them, rather than let them learn from a servant?
Just in time, she remembered Fay’s crush on Dr. Macleod. Someone else could break the news, she decided.
“Sorry, as Mr. Tring wouldn’t, I’d better not.”
They all went upstairs to the Council Chamber.
“So Rumford’s the murderer,” Mrs. Tebbit greeted them.
“Aunt Alice, how do you know?”
“Mrs. Fletcher wouldn’t tell us!”
“While you two were sitting on the stairs, I went into your father’s study and asked him. Naturally, he had been informed, over the telephone. I always knew he was a bad lot.”
“And now he’s killed the doctor,” said Miss Tebbit, eyes wide with horror.
“Really, Myrtle, have you no tact?”
“Not Dr. Macleod?” Brenda exclaimed.
Fay said faintly, “Oh!” and sat down suddenly.
“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Tebbit. “It’s a shock, I don’t doubt, but nothing will persuade me you had a genuine affection for the man.”
Brenda sank on her knees at her sister’s side, patting her hands, while Miss Tebbit fluttered about apologizing.
At that moment, the maid came in. Gazing at Fay as she addressed Mrs. Tebbit, she said, “Madam, there’s a yeoman at the door says a lady’s come in a motor to pick up Mrs. Fletcher. A foreign lady.”
“Escape while you can,” advised Mrs. Tebbit. “You mustn’t keep Mrs. Prasad waiting.”
Cravenly, Daisy obeyed. So once again she departed from the King’s House without a proper leave-taking.