PH02 - Do Not Disturb (20 page)

“You said there were only two possible poisonous plants. I have given you a third.”

Dr. McDuff shook his head. “Not a chance. In the first place, the vine doesn’t grow in this part of the world. In the second, it is harmless when swallowed. Even if the victims’ food or drink had been heavily laced with the stuff, it wouldn’t have hurt them.”

“But what if it had been injected?” Cecily said quietly.

The doctor studied her with his clear blue eyes. “What are you saying, lassie?”

“I’m saying that three men died after leaving the George and Dragon pub. A pub where there has been a good deal of disagreement going on, including several incidents of fighting among the customers of late.”

“That is so, I agree. But I don’t understand why you should think a drug could be injected into three men without anyone seeing.”

Cecily smiled. “If you remember, Doctor, I told you the natives killed their game, and their enemies, by blowing a poisoned dart through a bamboo pipe.”

Still looking puzzled, the doctor nodded.

“Might I also remind you,” Cecily said quietly, “that for the past several days, practice has been going on at the pub … for a darts match.”

She sat back, enjoying the incredulous look spreading over the doctor’s face.

After a long pause, Dr. McDuff said slowly, “It’s something to think about, I grant you. A slim clue, but nevertheless I should look into it. The first two bodies have been sent to London already, but I can certainly examine this one again to see if I can find a puncture anywhere in the skin.”

“Good,” Cecily said, rising to her feet. “I agree, it’s not a likely solution. Had it not been for the darts match, I would not have considered it. But the one thing that has intrigued me from the beginning of all this is that Mr. Bickley was found outside his cottage without his coat which he had
worn that evening. If death had been instantaneous after he’d ingested the poison inside his cottage, how did he get outside?”

“Aye.” The doctor stroked his beard. “So you’re suggesting someone called him outside and then stuck him with a dart? Though who would have access to such a poison in these parts I can’t imagine.”

“I’m simply weighing all the possibilities. If we can determine the exact cause of death,” Cecily said as she moved over to the door, “that could perhaps help us. In the meantime, I need to find out what it is that connects these three men.” And Ian, she added silently.

“Ye know, lassie, I shall have to report my findings to Inspector Cranshaw?”

Cecily nodded. “Yes, I understand that. But I would be most obliged if you could see your way clear to informing me first.”

“I can do that.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “If it turns out that you are right about the poison, it will certainly clear Madeline.”

“Exactly.” Cecily smiled. “Good day, Doctor.” Though what it would do for Ian, she thought, her smile fading as she stepped out into the street, that remained to be seen.

The first place she intended to visit was Dolly’s Tea Shop. Judging by the faint rumbling in her stomach, it must be very close to midday. A hot sausage roll or Cornish pastie with a cup of tea would go down very well.

She walked briskly along the pavement, pausing now and again to peer into the shop windows in the High Street. A white fur muff caught her eye, and she gazed longingly at it, knowing it was beyond her means. One day, perhaps, when all the hotel bills were caught up. Though goodness knows when that would be.

The pale sun gave little warmth from the hazy sky, and a chill sea breeze stirred the last of the dead leaves lying in the gutter.

In spite of her heavy cloak, Cecily felt quite cold by the time she arrived at the tea shop. The walk and the crisp,
fresh air had put color in her cheeks and sharpened her appetite. She was looking forward to her meal with a great deal of pleasure.

The striped awning flapped in a sudden gust of wind as Cecily pushed open the door of the tea shop, to the tune of the jangling bell.

The place buzzed with chatter and quiet laughter, and for a moment she thought she might not have a seat. Then Louise appeared, looking hot and flustered. “Oh, Mrs. Sinclair. How nice to see you again. Do please come this way. The small table in the corner has not been taken as yet.”

Cecily edged her way across the crowded room, exchanging smiles and nods with the rest of the clientele seated at the round tables.

“I should like a word with Dolly when she has a spare moment,” Cecily said after giving her order.

Louise looked even more agitated. “Oh, I’m afraid Mrs. Matthews isn’t here. She has some errands to run, and since the worst of the rush is over, she decided to take advantage of the lull and get her shopping done.”

“Oh,” Cecily said, disappointed. “Then I shall just have to catch her later. Perhaps she’ll be back before I leave.”

Louise smiled and nodded. “Perhaps.” She hurried off to the kitchen to get the order, while Cecily sat back and loosened her cape. In the time that it took Louise to return with her sausage roll and tea, several of the customers left the tearoom, having finished their lunch.

Cecily waited while Louise poured the first cup for her, then set the teapot down on its stand. “I suppose everyone has heard about the death of the third man last night,” Cecily said as Louise turned to leave.

The assistant shot her a nervous glance. “Oh, yes, ma’am. Everyone is talking about it. Though it doesn’t seem to have disturbed anyone’s appetite. At least not here.”

“So I noticed.” Cecily smiled. “Dolly must be most gratified about that.”

“I’m sure she is, ma’am.”

Cecily picked up her spoon and began lazily stirring her tea. “I understand the poor man was here yesterday afternoon.”

Louise looked as if she really didn’t want to talk about it. “I believe he was, yes, ma’am.”

“Did you happen to see him?”

“No, ma’am. I didn’t. As I said, we have been busy. I don’t remember seeing him at all. Mrs. Matthews spoke to him.”

Cecily looked up and was struck by the intent look on Louise’s face. Not wishing to explain her unwarranted interest in the dead man, Cecily sought to change the subject.

Her eye fell on the assistant’s hand, and the oval-shaped opal she wore. Though it seemed out of place for such a flamboyant piece of jewelry, the stone was quite beautiful, and Cecily said sincerely, “That really is a most unusual ring. May I look at it?”

Obviously pleased, Louise held out her hand for inspection. “It was a gift from my husband,” she explained. “He actually dug up the opal himself in Australia, and had it mounted there.”

“Really?” Cecily murmured, admiring the vivid colors flashing in the large stone. “Was he a geologist?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. Roger was a medical scientist. He was quite brilliant, really. He traveled all over the world to work on his research projects.”

“How interesting.” Cecily smiled vaguely up at the woman. She was remembering something Phoebe had told her earlier in the week.

Her husband was a scientist. There’s something very mysterious about his death. He was in Central America, working on a science project, and was infected with this strange disease. No one seemed to know what it was
.

“Pardon me?” Cecily said, suddenly aware that Louise had said something she hadn’t heard.

“I asked if that would be all, ma’am.”

Conscious of the other woman’s hard, curious stare,
Cecily pulled her scattered thoughts together. “Yes, thank you, Louise. That will be all.”

It had to be coincidence, Cecily thought, munching her way through her sausage roll without tasting one bite. Just because Louise’s husband died in Central America did not mean the woman was going around killing people with poisoned darts. The idea was quite ludicrous.

She picked up her cup, then put it down again, spilling some of the tea over the side. She didn’t notice. She was too busy considering another thought that had struck her. Louise Atkins had arrived in Badgers End shortly before the first man died. Another coincidence?

Anxious to leave now, Cecily drained her cup and beckoned to Louise for her bill.

“I trust everything was satisfactory?” Louise asked as Cecily dug in her handbag for her coin purse.

“Wonderful, as always.” Hastily she thrust some money at Louise. “Here, you may keep whatever is left over. Tell Dolly I was sorry to have missed her.”

“Oh, thank you. Mrs. Sinclair. Most kind of you, I’m sure. Dolly will be here tomorrow. It’s my day off, so she is certain to be here.”

“Oh, well, perhaps I shall see her then.” Gathering her cape around her, Cecily headed with unseemly haste for the door. This was something she needed to discuss with Baxter. Maybe then she could make some sense out of it.

Wishing she had ordered Samuel to collect her from the tearoom, Cecily set out at a brisk pace for the hotel.

She found Baxter in his office when she arrived back. She felt quite warmed by the fast walk and more than a little out of breath. Baxter looked alarmed when she burst in without knocking as she usually did.

“Is something wrong, madam?” he asked, pulling out a chair for her to sit on.

“No … yes … I really don’t know.” She allowed him to take the cape from her shoulders and fanned her face with her gloved hand.

“Can I get you something? A cup of tea? Brandy?”

She heaved in her breath and let it out slowly. “A cigar?” she said hopefully.

Baxter’s eyebrows shot up predictably. “Really, madam—”

“Oh, do come on, Bax. I haven’t had one in simply ages, and I fine I have a very great need to relax. A cigar will help me to do that admirably.”

His face stiff with disapproval, Baxter pulled the package from his pocket and handed it to her. Striking a match with an expert flick of his wrist, he held the flame to the end of her cigar, and she drew in the fragrant smoke.

“Ah … that is wonderful. I feel better already.”

“I shall remind you of that when you are lying on your bed with a hacking cough.”

She gave him a mischievous look. “Why, Baxter, I should certainly hope that if I am lying on my bed, you will not be so indiscreet as to stand there and chastise me.”

His cheeks flamed. “Of course not, madam.”

For once she received little pleasure from her teasing. She had far too much on her mind. “I suppose you have heard that the police are now questioning Ian?”

“Yes, madam. Mrs. Chubb informed me of the fact shortly after I returned this afternoon.”

“I suppose it was inevitable. Though Ian insisted he had no idea why Mr. Sparks should be asking for him.”

“I am not altogether certain we can believe every word spoken by that young man,” Baxter said stiffly. “I have a strong suspicion that he was not entirely truthful about his reasons for leaving the city.”

“I’m afraid you might be right.” She told him what Gertie had said about the smuggling. “However,” she concluded, “I am inclined to believe he is telling the truth about everything else.”

“I shall have to have a word with that young man,” Baxter said darkly. “He’ll be doing no more smuggling, I can promise you.”

Cecily took another puff at the cigar. “In any case, I have some information that I think you will find interesting.” She then proceeded to tell Baxter about her morning activities.

His face got darker and darker as she recounted her conversation with the doctor and her subsequent visit to the tea shop.

“I really must implore you, madam,” he said when she finally paused for breath, “it could be most dangerous for you to conduct this investigation without proper escort. I must insist that in future you inform me of your intentions, so that I might accompany you.”

“You weren’t here, Baxter, or I certainly would have,” Cecily said mildly. “But what do you think of my discoveries? Do you not think there could be a possibility that Louise Atkins is involved in some way with the murders?”

Baxter rocked back and forth on his heels, running his palm over his hair. “I really don’t know what to think, madam. I’m inclined to think it’s merely a coincidence. I haven’t made the acquaintance of Mrs. Atkins, but by all accounts she seems a most unlikely suspect. What could a woman like that possibly have to do with the men who died? Or Ian, for that matter?”

“That,” Cecily said quietly, “is exactly what I intend to find out at the earliest opportunity.”

Gertie had her back to the kitchen door, her arms plunged to the elbows in hot steaming water as she bent over the sink. Lifting a soapy dish from the water, she watched the frothy bubbles run down the side.

Still no sign of the curse. And now with Ian in trouble with the law, she could really be lumbered. There she was, stuck with a bun in the oven, and no husband. Ruin her bloody life it would. Who would look at her sideways now, once she had a nipper?

She should never have believed Ian when he told her it was all right. Don’t worry, he’d said. What they were doing couldn’t possibly get her pregnant, he’d said. Fat lot he knew. She knew it was wrong, but it had felt so good, and with all those sweet words he was whispering in her ear, no wonder she got carried away.

She dipped the plate back into the water, wondering if it
would be possible to get married to him while he was in prison. Blimey, she thought, what a bleeding choice. Either stuck with a baby and no husband, or married to a bloody convict. Good job her old man wasn’t around. He’d have her hung, drawn, and quartered, that he would.

The door opened behind her, and she lifted the plate again, shaking the soap from the rim. She was about to stand it on the draining board when a familiar voice said softly, “Hallo, me old love, how’s me best girl doing, then?”

With a loud splash the plate fell back in the water, and Gertie spun around. “Ian! Cor blimey, you gave me a start.”

He caught her around the waist and hugged her tight. “Got sprung I did, didn’t I. Told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Blinking back threatening tears, Gertie grinned up at him. “I’m glad to see you, Ian Rossiter, even if you do give me bloody heart attacks.”

The door opened again before he could answer, and he stepped smartly away from her.