Chapter Four #2
While Fiona sketched the scene, I explained why I thought it felt wrong no matter if the doctor had been murdered here or if he had simply died of some natural cause.
Once she had finished drawing the scene in its current state, we walked up to the body so she could draw Dr. Penhollow and show exactly how we’d found him.
While she did that, I gingerly lifted his right hand, which stuck ever so slightly in the muck.
With a sigh, I put it back down. The doctor had landed in a muddy puddle, and any impressions he had made had quickly filled with water.
“He appears to have simply collapsed,” Fiona said. “What do you suppose he was doing here? Or rather where was he going?”
“He is a doctor,” I said, coming to my feet. “Perhaps he was notified of an emergency in the village.”
Fiona let out a hum while she considered that possibility.
“The thing is,” she said, “with the telephone service inoperative, someone would have to have come from the village to his home in order to notify him of this emergency, but I don’t see a second trail through this field.
” She glanced over the area. “Nor do I see his bag.”
Nor did I. “The person might have taken a carriage and stayed to the lane.” Though I couldn’t see it from here, I knew the lane bordered the far side of the field.
“Or one could stay to this path and circle the field.” I looked down at my feet.
The packed earth here was damp but not muddy.
I could see the prints my boots had made, along with those of Fiona and the children.
If someone had walked past here this morning, we’d scuffed and covered up any impressions their boots might have made.
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter at this point,” I said. “Besides, Mrs. Penhollow will be able to tell us if someone called for her husband this morning, and if not, where he was headed.”
“This morning?” Fiona’s brows rose. “How do you know it wasn’t last night?”
“It would have to have been the most dire of emergencies to bring anyone out in that storm last night, don’t you think?
Besides, we found him shortly after eleven, and when I moved his arm, it was not quite stiff.
Though it is a little more so now, rigor mortis has not completely set in.
That means Dr. Penhollow died more than two or three hours ago, but less than seven or eight. ”
“Good heavens!” Fiona was gazing at me in admiration. “How on earth do you know that?” She took a step back and crossed her arms. “You know, we shall be in need of a new coroner here. Perhaps you’d like to apply for the position?”
“Definitely not. I gained that bit of knowledge from your brother, and I suggest we don’t rely on my calculations.
It could be that the damp or the cool temperatures cause the body to react differently than it would have had he been indoors.
I’m just trying to make these observations so I can ultimately report them to the police.
In fact, why don’t I write that down on your sketch pad?
They are far better at this sort of thing than I. ”
“Don’t be so modest.” Fiona handed me a pencil and then held the pad flat while I added my notes. “I was in Paris, remember, to witness how you and George handle your investigations. Why, you are every bit as good as the police.”
I thought Inspector Cadieux might have felt differently, but I let that pass. “How do you suppose Rose learned that George and I investigate these cases on occasion?”
“Children pay far more attention to us than we know.” She gave me a cautious look. “It’s also possible that Lissette told her the story of how you saved her life.”
It never occurred to me to ask Lissette to keep that story to herself. She had disliked me so much at the time, who would have thought she’d ever repeat a story that showed me in a favorable light? Perhaps she was warming up to me at long last.
“Having that information,” Fiona continued, “it wouldn’t take long for someone as clever as Rose to add up all the odd little things that happen in your lives that make much more sense if you and George are investigators.”
Finished with my notes, I handed the pencil back to her. “What odd little things? What are you talking about?”
She gazed at me in disbelief and crossed her arms. “I’d venture to speculate that Detective Inspector Delaney pays far more calls at your home than at those of any of her friends.”
“But we’ve worked on many of Delaney’s cases.”
“Exactly my point,” she said. “And while I’m certain you shielded Rose from all the grim details of your investigations, she could hardly fail to know about the time a footman was found dead in your garden—or Miss Teskey.”
Why did everyone keep bringing up Miss Teskey? I raised my finger. “Rose was not at home when Miss Teskey was murdered.”
“And I suppose you think that as soon as the case was solved, the servants ceased to speak of it?”
A weight landed in my chest. Of course they didn’t. None of them would have spoken of it to Rose directly, but she might easily have overheard them talking among themselves. Rose should have been sheltered from such horrors.
Fiona sensed all was not well and gestured for the men to turn around just as fat tears slid down my cheeks. I had completely forgotten they were standing by and hearing every word of our conversation. She put an arm around my shoulders.
“I know what you are thinking,” she said softly, “but there is nothing wrong with your mothering. Your child and your ward are housed and clothed, educated, fed, kept safe, and loved. What more could a mother do?”
“I am exposing them to the world of crime.”
“You are making me repeat myself, Frances. You saved Lissette from a criminal. As for Rose, though she may know what you and George do, she is not a part of it. You have done nothing but supply her with two very interesting parents.”
“Interesting?”
“Your daughter and my children are writing a story where you and my brother are the main characters. That’s how interesting they find you. And yes, I’m a little bit jealous, so stop your crying, or I’ll have to tell them you are mishandling this case.”
“I really can’t be positive he was murdered. I don’t know if we should be handling it at all.”
Fiona directed my attention to the stretch of field that led to the village. In the distance I could see James returning. Alone. No constable. No doctor.
“It appears to me that we may have no other choice,” Fiona said.