by Paula Paul
Chapter Four
Alexandra was dressed and downstairs by six the next morning, knowing she needed to get an early start. Besides her usual rounds to visit her patients and her surgery hours to keep, there were certain tasks of pharmacology she must see to, now that there was no longer an apothecary to rely upon. As she entered the kitchen, Zack following closely behind, she was surprised to see Nancy and Polly already there, chattering and laughing like two school girls as they crushed herbs, each with mortar and pestle. Several pots bubbled on the stove.
“You’re both up early,” Alexandra said as she entered the kitchen.
Nancy glanced up. “Good morning, Miss. I thought it best I get an early start on the mixtures we can store without worry of spoilage. We need to have them in stock, you know, since the apothecary closed. Poor Mr. Neill.” Her face was flushed, due, perhaps, to both the heat of the kitchen and her pleasure at having Polly as company. “And you’re up rather early yourself, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
It was clear Nancy was on her best behavior since, under ordinary circumstances, she openly spoke her mind without giving much thought to what Alexandra might think. In spite of her father’s frequent expressions of concern at the close and, in his opinion, overly friendly relationship between the two of them, Alexandra had long ago stopped worrying about the propriety of their relationship as servant and mistress.
“Yes, I am up early,” Alexandra said, helping herself to a cup of tea. “I had in mind the same thing, to get some of our staple medicines prepared ahead of time, but I see I’m a little late.”
“Polly’s been a great help.” Nancy spoke as she poured diluted alcohol into the powdery mixture she’d created in the bowl.
“Yes, I can see that.” Alexandra stirred her tea as she glanced at Polly. “You seem quite adept, Polly. I can see that Mr. Neill taught you well.”
Polly nodded. “Oh yes, he relied upon me occasionally to help him with some of the more simple tasks. He left the difficult ones to Clyde. He was a good apprentice, that one.”
“Humph” Nancy said with a shake of her head. “May have been a good apprentice, but he’s lecherous as a goat and lacking in sense, if you ask me. Running off the way he did just when he was about to become a full-fledged apothecary.”
“He can be rather disgustingly lecherous, I suppose,” Polly said. “But he’s young. Not quite ripe, you might say. There’s always hope he’ll change.” Polly handed her the bowl with its crushed herbs to Nancy to add the alcohol. “And I have to admit it was odd that he left so suddenly. Except…”
“Except what?” Nancy prompted.
“I don’t want to be a gossip…”
“Polly!” Nancy was playfully scolding.
“Well, there did seem to be some funds missing just as he…” She waved a hand. “There’s no proof he took them. Forgive me.” She turned to Alexandra. “I do wish I could stay and help more, just to show how much I appreciate your letting me stay last night. But I must be going now. Can’t afford to lose another position.”
“Of course not.” Alexandra set her tea cup aside. “And it was a pleasure to have—” A sudden knock at the surgery door and Zack’s almost immediate bark interrupted her. They both knew what it meant. Someone had arrived with an emergency.
She hurried to the surgery door and opened it to find a young man of no more than twenty years holding an infant in his arms. The infant, whom she estimated to be a few months less than a year old, appeared to be choking. Her face had turned blue and there was a stream of blood flowing from her nose. Behind the man and the baby, a girl of perhaps sixteen, who must have been the mother, tried, with little success, to stifle her own sobs and tears. Alexandra reached for the child and called to the parents over her shoulder. “How long has she been like this?”
“She’s sick, Miss,” the young father said, apparently too upset to answer Alexandra’s question. “Coughing. Not breathing…My wife…You’ve got to help us, please, Miss. Our baby…We cannot…” The young man’s voice shook as he stuttered, and he seemed about to give in to tears himself.
It was obvious to Alexandra that she was not likely to get information of any value from either of them. She turned into the room, holding the baby, vaguely aware of both Polly and Nancy standing close by. She immediately placed a finger into the baby’s throat, bringing out a ropy mass of thick mucus. A high-pitched, almost inhuman noise escaped her tiny throat as she attempted a deep intake of breath. When she coughed again and the cough continued, alternating with the awful noise, Alexandra could see both young parents’ eyes widen in fear as they clutched either other. She had no time to reassure them, however, since the baby had stopped breathing again.
“Infusion of red clover blossoms?” Nancy asked, already on her way to the kitchen storage shelf to retrieve the proper vial. Polly, in the meantime, was busy with something behind her.
“Yes,” Alexandra said to Nancy, “but first…” She stopped speaking and placed her mouth on the blue lips of the infant in an attempt to supply her with breath. Still the child did not breathe, and she tried again. When there was still no breath, she glanced up and shouted for Nancy. In the next instant, Polly had taken the baby from her and was wrapping her in a sheet. Alexandra had no time to ask how she knew what had to be done. Instead she reached for a linen-covered tray on which Nancy kept her surgical instruments boiled and ready for use. She was surprised to find that the correct size of silver tube had already been attached to the introducer she needed. A thin silk thread dangled from the end of the tube. She glanced at Polly, realizing that was what she had been doing behind her.
She saw that Polly already had the baby wrapped tightly in the blanket to keep her from moving and was holding her upright against her own body, facing outward. Nancy, who had returned to the surgery, helped hold the baby’s head against Polly’s chest.
Alexandra passed the introducer and tube into the throat and larynx. She was vaguely aware of the parents huddled together and deathly quiet in a corner of the room. Carefully and slowly she removed the introducer from the baby’s throat while she held the tube in place with her index finger. When the instrument was completely removed, Nancy tied the silk thread behind the baby’s head to hold the tube in place while Alexandra turned toward the frightened parents.
“You must leave the tube in a while to help the baby breathe, and you must watch her carefully,” she said.
The young mother hardly seemed to be listening. Her eyes were on the baby, whom Polly had now unwrapped and was cradling her in her arms. She rocked her back and forth and spoke to her in soothing tones to hush her hoarse crying.
The baby’s crying only served to frighten the young mother even more. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Whooping cough,” Polly said before Alexandra could answer. “It affects the smallest ones worse, their breathing passages being small. But see, she’s breathing now.” The baby’s cries were beginning to subside to a hoarse whimper, and Polly handed her to the mother. “Careful now, don’t disturb the tube,” she said as she transferred her from her own arms to her mother’s. “You must keep her quiet. Any excitement will start her cough again.” While the mother held her, Polly rubbed the little girl’s plump cheek gently with the backs of her fingers and spoke to the mother, still in her soft, soothing voice. “A teaspoon of the infusion of red clover the doctor will give you will help modify the irritation in her passages.” As she turned away toward Alexandra, she was suddenly and acutely embarrassed. “I…I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Please. Don’t apologize.” Alexandra spoke quietly to avoid disturbing the baby. She glanced at the child, breathing noisily through the tube and growing drowsy in her mother’s arms. “I appreciate your help, you seem quite experienced.”
“My younger sister had whooping cough when she was an infant. I nursed her through it. And, of course having worked in the apothecary shop, I learned a bit about medication.” Polly also spoke
in hushed tones, but she looked down, still embarrassed. “But in this case I overstepped the bounds. You are the doctor, of course.”
Nancy picked up the bottle containing the infusion of clover and handed it to the parents then signaled Polly with her eyes, and the two of them left the room, leaving Alexandra alone with the young family.
Both parents were much calmer now, but they huddled together still, the young man peering over his wife’s shoulder at their sleeping child. As Alexandra approached them, the mother glanced up at her, and she could see the fear still in her eyes. “She breathes ragged.” Her voice was still high-pitched, like a little girl’s.
“Shhh,” Alexandra said, watching the baby’s labored breathing. The cough was quiet, at least for the moment, and she was no longer blue from lack of oxygen. “She will likely have more coughing spells,” Alexandra whispered. “You must watch her carefully.”
The young girl gave her a frightened look, but didn’t speak. Her husband had now grown quite pale and looked as if he might faint.
“Is your home far from here?” Alexandra asked. Although she had helped birth most of the babies in Newton, she didn’t recognize this young couple. They were undoubtedly new laborers for the earl’s estate.
The girl shook her head. “No more than half a mile,” she said, also whispering. “On Earl’s Row. Third cottage on the chapel side.” The boy seemed unable to respond.
Alexandra nodded. Earl’s Row was a small cluster of one- and two-room cottages where farm laborers who worked on the lands owned by the Earl of Dunsford lived, and it was, indeed, no more than half a mile away, a ten-minute walk perhaps. The chapel side meant the same side of the street on which the Methodist chapel stood. “I think you can safely take the baby home,” Alexandra said, “but keep her quiet and in a darkened room if possible so she won’t be stimulated. Stimulation will make her cough, and she could choke again. Also keep her away from other children. The disease is quite contagious. Do you have other children?”
The girl shook her head again.
“Good.” She reached to give the girl a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “I’ll send Nancy with you to help you watch, and then I shall stay with her tonight, since she is likely to be worse in the night air. Remember, the cough will last for several weeks and beware of the choking.”
The girl nodded and gave her a smile that was part fear and part gratitude before she turned toward the door with her husband beside her and the baby in her arms.
“Wait!” Alexandra called to their backs. “I don’t know your names.”
The girl turned back to face her and spoke in her little-girl voice. “Kate Hastings. And Jim,” she added as an afterthought.
“And the babe?”
“Alice.”
“You still put her to breast?”
Kate nodded. “But she won’t suckle.”
“She will suckle when she can breathe. Nancy can remove the tube in an hour or two, and you must try to get her to suckle as much as possible. Her body needs the fluids.”
Again Kate nodded before she turned away with her small family to begin their walk back to their cottage. Alexandra watched them go, wishing she could have sent them away with a reassuring word. The truth, however, was that whooping cough in an infant below the age of a year was extremely dangerous.
When they had gone, she went to the kitchen to join Nancy and Polly. She wanted to make certain Nancy had a good supply of the infusion of red clover flowers, since there was likely to be more cases of whooping cough, in spite of all attempts to avoid the spread. She found Nancy alone in the kitchen. She was filling the last of the vials with one of the various concoctions she had mixed earlier.
“You’ll be sending me to stay with the babe,” she said.
“Yes, but finish your breakfast first. Has Polly left?” Alexandra asked as she went to the larder for a loaf of the bread Nancy had baked the day before. She also took the bowl of butter Nancy had left sitting in a pan of water to keep it cool.
“Polly’s gone to her work at the tavern.” Nancy used her apron to wipe the moisture from the last bottle she had filled.
Alexandra cut two thick slices of the bread and placed one on a plate for her and the second on a plate for Nancy. “I must say she proved quite efficient in an emergency.” She regretted it immediately. It would only provide an opening for more pressure from Nancy to hire her, and she would no doubt augment her argument with the fact that she was equally adept at preparing medicines.
“Says she learned it caring for her sister,” Nancy said. “Not the same as being properly trained as an assistant by a doctor, now, is it?”
Alexandra glanced at her, surprised. “Why, Nancy, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous of Polly’s skills.”
“And why should I be?” Nancy’s tone was a bit too sharp.
“Why indeed,” Alexandra said. She was surprised at Nancy’s sudden turn toward jealousy after being so keen to hire her. Perhaps seeing the woman’s efficiency made her feel threatened. It was just as well, though, to have the pressure for hiring her removed, since it would be financially difficult. Perhaps, though, she could find employment for Polly at Bradfordshire hospital. Many hospitals still hired nurses who had not been formally trained. Women like Polly often resisted the job, however, since nurses too often came from the ranks of prostitutes. Still, it might bear investigating. Alexandra helped herself to another slice of bread. “This is wonderful, Nancy. Do you have a new recipe? And what is that wonderful smell?”
Nancy was slow to respond, still apparently distracted. “Oh,” she said finally, “the smell? ’Tis mutton. Or leg of lamb as Polly calls it. ’Tis roasting in the oven, can you imagine? Roasting when it could be boiled just as well? Polly insisted she show me how, so she rubbed it with some of the herbs, browned it in oil, and put it in the oven. Not a drop of water, either. But don’t worry, I’ve saved a bit for boiling in case you don’t like it.”
They had finished their breakfast and Alexandra was about to leave the house for her morning calls when she heard a knock at the front door. Nancy gave her a quick glance, obviously as surprised as she was that the knock had come at the front door and not the surgery. Alexandra was not far behind her when Nancy opened the door to Constable Snow. Beside him, looking pale and visibly trembling, stood Polly Cobbe.
Snow was the first to speak. “Forgive me for troubling you so early in the morning, Dr. Gladstone, but I must ask you to come with me.”
“Of course,” Alexandra said, reaching for her bag, “but—”
“I’m afraid there’s been another murder.”
“Another murder? Who?” Nancy asked.
“I’m afraid we don’t have a name.” Snow’s voice was unusually grave. “A stranger from the lower strata of society, apparently, and rather down on his luck, I’d say. Miss Cobbe found the body in the alley behind the Blue Ram. Quite close to where Ben Milligan was found.”
“Oh my Lord, Polly. Was he…?” Nancy appeared too aghast to continue, but Snow answered nevertheless.
“The same unsavory circumstances, I’m afraid.” He turned his gaze back to Alexandra. “Unfortunately I must ask you once again to examine the body.”
“Of course,” Alexandra said, already on her way out the door.
“And Polly, you must stay here.” Nancy said, moving toward her, apparently no longer miffed. “You must be quite in shock.”
Polly could respond with nothing more than a dull stare, as if something had drowned in the deep wells that were her eyes, but Snow answered sharply. “I shall have to ask Miss Cobbe to come with me for questioning.”
“Begging you pardon, sir. Can’t you see she’s—”
“That will be quite enough, Nancy.” Snow’s tone was even sharper. He was not as indulgent of Nancy’s impertinence as was Alexandra.
Nancy lowered her head. “Of course, sir. Forgive me, sir.” To see Nancy acting like an ordinary servant gave Alexandra a momentary shock, but she cou
ldn’t dwell upon it. She could sense the urgency in Snow’s demeanor and knew they must be on their way.
It was a short ride in the constable’s carriage to the alley behind the Blue Ram. Alexandra sat facing Polly all the way, watching her pale face and her empty eyes. She inquired of her once whether she was all right. Polly jerked her gaze toward her as if she was startled and replied with one whispered word, “Yes.”
It was not surprising to Alexandra that Polly was in shock. Having seen the other body herself, she knew how brutal and disturbing the scene most likely was. Snow stopped his carriage a few feet away from the lifeless form lying in a pool of blood in the narrow alley. Polly made no move to step down from the carriage when Snow got down from his perch and opened the door. She simply stared straight ahead, still pale but no longer trembling.
Alexandra took the constable’s proffered hand as she stepped from the carriage. As soon as she saw the body, she understood more clearly Polly’s near catatonic state. The man’s chest had been brutally mutilated. The flesh on each side of the ribcage had been sliced, as it had been on the other victim. But this time, the cuts were not the clean surgical cuts she’d seen before. Instead they were ragged and messy. The severed ribs were also jagged and uneven, unlike the precision work done on the other man. It was as if the killer had been in a hurry. The heart had been removed as before, but there was evidence of tearing of the surrounding tissue, rather than the precise surgical removal she’d seen on the first victim. As further testimony of the killer’s haste, bits of the flesh lay a few feet away, coated in dust and dried blood, as if it had been carelessly flung aside. The heart, like Ben’s, was missing.
As Alexandra examined the body, she noticed the same purplish color of the skin and the same pale lips and nails she’d seen on Ben Milligan’s body. However, unlike the other victim, there were no maggots present, and the limbs were blue. He had been dead no more than an hour.
