Chapter 28 #2
Dr. Thorne sighed with another one of her patronizing smiles. “Our guests rarely know what is best for them. We must balance their wishes during their stay with the results that we know will follow. Doctor knows best.”
The vision of patients screaming for the water to stop came to mind. Of them begging for food. Such unpleasant images. “You must have a strong will to refuse their pleas. Do you ever take their requests into consideration? I believe informed consent is required.”
Again came that knowing smile. “Our guests come to us for a reason. They trust our methods. We explain the process and the difficulties in advance to give them fair warning.”
That still didn’t make it permissible in Henry’s opinion. “Is it possible one of your staff members was overzealous in their efforts when it came to Walter Dunn?”
Emotion pinched her features—so briefly, he couldn’t read it. “Unlikely.”
“But not impossible?”
Irritation narrowed her eyes. “No,” she reluctantly admitted. “I am just one woman, Inspector. I cannot be with every guest ever hour of the day.”
Interesting. An admission, albeit a small one. “As I mentioned before, a needle puncture was visible in his arm. How did that happen?”
Her gaze shifted away, causing him to wonder if she was trying to think of a plausible answer. “On rare occasions we inject water beneath the skin to aid in flushing. Some diseases are more stubborn than others.”
“Such as cancer,” Henry suggested.
Her stare did not waver. “Perhaps.”
“It sounds quite dangerous to inject anything. What happens if a vein is hit?” Surely that would kill a patient, though that was something he needed to confirm with Arthur. He didn’t trust Dr. Thorne to give a true answer.
“Our staff is carefully trained in all the techniques we use.”
Just as he suspected—she didn’t give a true answer.
He sat forward in the chair and held her gaze. “Regardless, Walter Dunn died while under your care. How many other patients have done the same?”
The doctor stared back at him, resentment in her eyes. “We treat guests who are seriously ill. Ones other physicians and facilities have given up on. Everyone dies eventually, Inspector. It only makes sense that some pass on while at my sanatorium.”
“And how many of those suddenly decided to change their will to give their estates to you?” Henry deliberately reached out to touch the statue on her desk, allowing his gaze to note the other expensive items scattered about her library.
The woman did not flinch. “If in their gratitude, they chose to donate to our research, that is their decision.”
“And what is the nature of your relationship with Tobias Barnes?”
Dr. Thorne stilled but otherwise showed no reaction to the name. “Who?”
“He’s a solicitor you’re acquainted with,” Henry supplied, though he didn’t think she needed the reminder.
Another sip of whiskey. Was that nerves? “I believe he was the solicitor for a few of our guests.”
“Was?”
She shrugged. “Is. Was. Those terms refer to whether they’re still at the sanatorium. Not whether they’re alive or dead.”
Henry doubted that, but he doubted he could get much more from her this evening. He put away his notebook and stood. “The truth will soon be determined.” He reached to spin the cloisonne globe on her desk, then met her gaze. “Good evening, Dr. Thorne.”
He couldn’t help but smile when she remained silent.
Henry took a cab to Amelia’s home, sorting through his thoughts about the interview. He couldn’t say he cared for the woman; then again, it was rare for a police officer to see the best side of a potential suspect, as they were immediate adversaries. Pointed questions put people on the defensive.
But he couldn’t rely on his personal opinion. His gut instincts could not always be trusted. He needed to focus on the facts.
By the time he arrived at Amelia’s, he still hadn’t come to any specific conclusions. Soon he was settled in her drawing room with a whiskey of his own at his elbow, the cat at his feet, and Amelia by his side. The tension he’d been unable to release previously was now nothing but a distant memory.
“She must be using the supposed donations she’s received for her own comforts.” Amelia’s outrage upon hearing his description of Dr. Thorne’s home matched his own concerns.
“It does make one wonder, though she might have acquired those items legitimately.” He shrugged. “Perhaps she inherited them. Perhaps she pays herself a large enough salary from the honestly earned patients to purchase such things.”
“I don’t believe that,” Amelia mused before taking a sip of her sherry. “I don’t think you do either.”
Henry smiled, appreciating that she knew him so well. “What precisely is a head bath?”
“I can’t say that I know. I suppose it involves sticking one’s head into water, but how deep? Do you hold your breath and submerge your mouth? And for what purpose?”
“Hmmm. It sounds unpleasant.” Henry didn’t feel the least bit guilty for discussing the case with Amelia. She was his sounding board and more helpful than he could’ve imagined when he’d first met her.
“Agreed. Then again, so do all of Dr. Thorne’s methods, in my opinion.” She shook her head. “Although if I had a terrible long-lasting disease, I suppose I’d be desperate enough to try almost anything.”
“Especially if the usual treatments hadn’t helped.” Henry eased down carefully to scratch Master Leopold and was rewarded with a rare purr. “It’s the financial aspect that truly bothers me.”
“And the most likely trail to follow, if foul play is involved.”
“Definitely.” Henry straightened. “If Mr. Dunn learned something concerning, why didn’t he leave?”
“Perhaps he tried but couldn’t—or wasn’t allowed. That locked front door. Besides, I would imagine many patients feel weak after all that fasting.”
An excellent point. “His body was emaciated, from what Arthur said. I wonder if there is a recovery period where the patients are given better meals and less water treatments once they’ve shown signs of improved health before they’re released.”
“Right.” Amelia nodded. “It wouldn’t do to have them leave feeling worse than when they arrived.”
“Mr. Dunn’s new will was dated a week prior to his passing.”
And as usual, she asked the right questions. “But did he date it? Or did someone lie?”
“Good questions. I’m becoming doubtful that the doctor could manage all this on her own.
If they’re forging signatures or the like, more than one person must be involved.
” He held Amelia’s gaze. “I’ll take another look at the staff tomorrow and see if I can determine who is close to Dr. Thorne.
I’d be interested to know if they’ve made expensive purchases of late. ”
Amelia smiled, admiration shining in her eyes. “I do like how you think, Henry.”
His body warmed at her regard, and he leaned close to press his lips to hers. “I not only like how you think, I like everything about you.”
Amelia wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Good. Because I feel much the same.”