A Fever of the Blood

by Oscar de Muriel

  A middle-aged physician obscured my view of the rest of Lady Glass, leaning over her as he spoke soothingly.

  ‘There, there, my lady. You have been very brave.’

  ‘It hurts so much!’ she replied, her voice a weak wail. ‘Dr Wyatt, make it stop!’

  ‘I am almost done, almost done. This arnica will help the skin heal.’

  McGray cleared his throat so loudly I feared he’d regurgitate a globule of something nasty. The doctor took the hint, and as he moved aside we had our first glimpse of the old woman’s face.

  Four long fingermarks were clearly imprinted on her left cheek – fresh welts, for the reddened skin was beginning to turn purple. I could tell that her aged skin would bruise mightily.

  The instant she saw us Lady Glass flipped from frail to manic.

  ‘You two!’ she yelled, so loudly and so earnestly that I immediately knew her injuries were less than life-threatening.

  ‘Lady Anne, we have been sent to –’

  ‘I ask for protection and they send me vermin!’ she cried, biting her knuckles in the most theatrical way. Dr Wyatt was leaning down to comfort her, the fake sobs filling the room until McGray yelled: ‘Shut that hole in yer face, ye auld hag! Else I’ll get yer cheeks even!’

  Dr Wyatt was appalled. ‘Sir! How can you possibly talk like that to a fragile –’

  McGray took a powerful step towards him, and the little man nearly fell backwards.

  ‘How can I what?’

  ‘I shall wait outside,’ the doctor muttered, and then trotted to the door on his shaky legs.

  ‘Get my cheeks even?’ Lady Anne said, her eyes shooting venom. ‘For that you would need a full set of fingers.’

  I saw that McGray was ready to verbally destroy her, and I spoke through my teeth. ‘Save it. The sooner they talk, the sooner we can leave.’

  His fists were clenched and shaking with rage. ‘All right. Make ’em talk if ye can.’

  Decidedly callous, he sat on a Chippendale dressing table that cracked under his weight, his hips knocking over perfume bottles and jewellery boxes. He crossed his arms and began whistling ‘Strip the Willow’.

  I pulled up a chair and sat close to the old woman. ‘Lady Anne, I know we all in this room have our history, but –’

  ‘History! Rejecting the richest heiress in town – you were as despicable as you were stupid.’

  I rolled my eyes and looked away. To my surprise, I found that Caroline was pulling the exact same grimace.

  ‘Lady Anne, I am not here to discuss that. Would you rather be questioned by Inspector McGray?’

  Nine-Nails whistled a little louder, and Lady Glass could only grunt in defeat.

  ‘Besides your face,’ I said, ‘do you have any other injuries? Do you need more medical attention?’

  ‘No,’ she said, gently touching her bruised skin. ‘Dr Wyatt has been quite thorough.’

  ‘Good. Now, I must ask you – was it who I think it was? Was it your son?’

  It was as though I’d thrown a carcass on to the carpet.

  ‘How did you know?’ Lady Anne gasped. ‘We sent an urgent message to Mr Campbell not five minutes after the affair. He is the sole person in the police who knows about our calamities. I hope he has not betrayed our confidence?’

  McGray made as if to speak, but I raised a hand and, miraculously, he restrained himself.

  ‘Lord Ardglass,’ I said, ‘was sadly brought to our attention earlier today. We have just come from the lunatic asylum.’

  The two women had never looked so much alike. Their jaws dropped instantly as they gave terrified gasps.

  ‘So you know?’ Lady Anne muttered.

  ‘Yes. We know it all. We were summoned because he escaped from care soon after midnight. Dr Clouston had to explain your son’s situation. Now it is obvious that your residence was Lord Ardglass’s immediate target.’

  ‘Did the doctor tell you as well that this matter is entirely confidential? He signed –’

  ‘Ma’am,’ I interrupted, ‘we have not come to discuss your family secrets. Before we waste any time, I would like you both to tell us what happened here. Please, do not spare any detail.’

  The women exchanged uncomfortable looks.

  ‘Here,’ Caroline said, pouring Lady Anne a most liberal amount of brandy. ‘Breakfast.’

  Lady Glass proved worthy of the nickname and took the drink in one solid gulp. Then she extended her arm for a second round, which she would sip more leisurely.

  ‘I was sleeping,’ she began, suddenly unable to look me in the eye. ‘Trying to sleep, I should say. I rarely sleep deeply; I didn’t even when I was young. I had been tossing and turning all night, and when I was finally drifting off I thought I heard steps coming up the stairs, very slowly. At first I thought it was Bertha. She knows of my insomnia and sometimes brings me tea. It did sound like her, trying not to disturb anybody.

  ‘Then I heard my door opening, very slowly as well. I – I cannot explain how, but I knew there was something untoward. Perhaps the door moved a little too sharply or … I do not know. I sat up and –’

  She paused, her veined eyes suddenly looking at nothing. She raised the glass to her mouth and took a short sip. ‘There …’ she pointed at the door, ‘there he was, standing …

  ‘He said, “Mother, have you not missed me? Have you not missed your only child?”

  ‘I would have thought it was a dream, had I not been struggling to sleep all night. I could not say a word. I could not even scream when I heard him walking closer to me …’

  She was staring now at the foot of her four-poster bed, as intently as if Joel Ardglass still stood there. I noticed how strikingly similar that bed was to the one in the asylum – perhaps his bed had been a token of motherly regret.

  ‘He said, “I’ve come for you. I know that –” ’

  She shuddered, then tapped the rim of her empty glass with shaking fingers, and Caroline poured her her third measure of the morning.

  ‘Pray, go on,’ I said. ‘What did he tell you? What did he know?’

  Never would I have thought I’d see tears glistening in Lady Anne’s eyes, but there they were, the hard stare buoyant with the most troubled mixture of feelings. She swallowed with difficulty and blinked the tears away, before any could roll down her cheeks.

  The tone of her voice shifted slightly. ‘He said he knew why I’d sent him to the asylum. How – how it had been more important to me to keep our good name … I screamed for help and it was then that he –’ She drew her fingers to her bruised cheek but did not quite touch the skin.

  ‘Was he armed?’ I asked, and Lady Anne nodded.

  ‘He carried a knife. He was wielding it when Caroline came in.’

  I turned to her. ‘You came in, Miss Ardglass?’

  ‘Yes, Inspector. I heard my grandmother’s scream and rushed here. As she said, I saw my father standing by the bed, with the knife held up high, ready to … well …’

  ‘He would have never done it,’ the old woman jumped in.

  ‘On the contrary,’ said Caroline in a monotone, ‘I believe he was determined to.’

  There was an odd quality in her voice when she said those words, some cold finality, yet Lady Glass shook her head dismissively. ‘Silly child. Your poor father never had the constitution.’

  I studied their faces. Caroline’s mouth was slightly open, as if to reply to her grandmother’s remark. Both women were certain of their arguments; it was impossible to tell whom we should believe.

  ‘What happened then?’ I asked.

  Caroline looked down and turned away to put the decanter on the bedside table. She was perhaps trying to conceal tears. ‘I recognized him as soon as I saw him,’ she said, ‘even though it was so dark – and I haven’t seen him since I was nineteen. I think I called out his name – I’m sorry, it was so quick; it is all a blur in my head – I yelled …’

  ‘You yelled, “What on earth are you doing here?” ’ Lady Anne said.


  ‘Is that right, miss?’ McGray asked, suddenly sympathetic.

  Caroline nodded. ‘That is right. The last person I expected to see was him … holding a knife and about to kill his own mother. I told him to leave her alone or I’d never forgive him. He turned to me, ran towards me …’

  ‘I thought he was going to strike her,’ Lady Anne admitted, rather matter-of-factly, ‘but he only pushed her aside and ran away.’

  ‘Did he hurt ye?’ McGray said.

  ‘No,’ Caroline answered, but her self-control was beginning to fail. ‘Although for a split second I thought he might.’

  ‘Lady Anne,’ I said, before she had the chance to make another sly comment, ‘do you know how he managed to break in?’

  ‘No, I do not. However, he spent the first twenty years of his life in this house, and after he lost his wits he managed to escape from here a couple of times. He must know every nook and cranny.’

  ‘How did he leave?’

  ‘Through the front door,’ Caroline answered. ‘I saw him through the window, running down the street.’

  ‘In which direction?’ I asked.

  ‘Along Duke Street. South.’

  I took note of that, while McGray looked at the steamed-up window glass; the snow was falling as thick and heavy as when we’d arrived.

  ‘Pointless looking for tracks,’ he said. Then he looked at me. ‘Should we tell them?’

  I took a long, deep breath. ‘They must know.’

  ‘Know what?’ Lady Glass demanded.

  ‘As I told you, ma’am, we heard of Lord Ardglass’s escape before coming here. We had a brief chance to inspect the asylum, but – before your son ran away …’ I swallowed, my eyes falling briefly on Caroline, and her distressed face made me hate saying every word that followed. ‘He murdered a young nurse.’

  The glass slipped from Lady Anne’s hand, fell on the carpet and spilled brandy all around.

  Caroline covered her mouth, thunderstruck.

  ‘No …’ she whispered, slowly sinking on to the bed, all colour drained from her flesh.

  ‘You cannot be serious!’ Lady Anne cried. ‘I know him; he would never gather the courage!’

  Caroline lifted her chin, her eyes suddenly burning with hate.

  ‘This is all your fault!’ she roared, looking fiercely at Lady Glass. ‘You old witch! You locked him up there so he’d lose his mind!’

  I was relieved that she’d dropped her glass, otherwise Lady Anne might have thrown it at the girl’s face.

  ‘Stupid, ungrateful brat! I did it all for you! For you! So that you could have a future! Who in his wits would marry the daughter of a lunatic? Did you want people pointing at you? Thinking that you could be equally mad? Or that your womb could one day breed that kind of spawn?’

  Caroline’s face was distorted, her eyes shedding enraged tears as she walked up threateningly to face Lady Anne.

  I had to stand up, fearing she’d thrust herself against her already battered grandmother. To make matters worse, Lady Anne’s speech had also offended Nine-Nails.

  ‘Spawn?’ he echoed. ‘Ye mean yer own spawn! Perhaps yer the one with the infected womb!’

  Caroline gasped, Lady Glass showed her teeth and the room then became a cacophony of yelling and swearing. I had to stand up and shout my lungs out: ‘Everyone stop it!’

  Nine-Nails grasped my collar, but I managed to stand my ground.

  ‘McGray, we are here to carry out an investigation,’ I said. ‘Save your rants for the public house.’

  For a moment the room was so quiet we could hear the snow kissing the window, until McGray let go of my coat.

  I turned to the women, desperate to end the questioning as soon as possible. ‘Do you have any idea, any hint at all, as to where he might have gone?’

  Caroline was still pale and would not talk. It was Lady Glass who answered. ‘Of course not. He’d been in that asylum for six years. The few friends he had have either died or moved out of town. The one place I would have expected him to run to is – well, here.’

  ‘Can you think of any reason he could have had to attack the nurse?’

  ‘None at all,’ Lady Glass snapped. ‘Before today we hadn’t seen him in years.’

  Caroline shook her head as she wiped her tears. I thought she was going to add something, but then McGray asked one last question.

  ‘Marigold,’ he said with quite some emphasis, but then paused, as if probing the air with the word. ‘Does it mean anything to youse?’

  The women’s faces were expressionless. Caroline seemed genuinely at a loss, but Lady Anne was looking away. Whether she did know something, or was merely dismissing the question because it came from Nine-Nails, I did not know.

  ‘I understand you are both upset just now,’ I said, ‘but if you happen to remember anything later, please let us know.’ I produced my card from my breast pocket. ‘Here. Send for us at any time.’ Lady Anne took it reluctantly. ‘Now,’ I went on, ‘we need a portrait of your son. Preferably a photograph.’

  Lady Glass nearly squealed. ‘To print hundreds of signs and scatter them all across town?’

  McGray stamped his heavy foot. ‘It’d help us a wee bit to ken what the lad looks like.’

  Caroline was already looking through her grandmother’s drawers. She handed us a small photograph kept within the pages of a Bible.

  ‘It is an old one. From before the asylum.’

  McGray and I studied the picture for a moment. It was a sharp image of a man in his early forties, very thin, with dreamy eyes and a soft jaw. I could more readily accept Lady Anne’s opinion of his weak character: a sadness and vulnerability exuded from the photograph. I could almost see his lower lip trembling whenever the old woman spoke to him.

  I looked through the window, at the outlines of countless buildings barely visible under the emerging daylight. I thought of the thousands of corners, closes, slums – of all the alleys and shadows where Lord Ardglass could skulk. Would he decide to hide? Would he try to run as far as possible? Would he come back and make another attempt on his mother’s life?

  Would anyone ever see him again?

  8

  No matter how urgently we wanted to leave that house, McGray and I were forced to linger for a while. It would have been very irresponsible to leave the two women and their mostly elderly staff unprotected. They had only one muscular servant, who was already guarding their back doors. I never saw him, but McGray told me he was an elephantine, very vulgar man they called Jed. Such a large mansion would definitely need more than one manservant to guard it, so we sent a note to the CID requesting two more officers to help. It took some convincing but Lady Anne finally accepted the need for a police presence – the threat of her son coming back was very real. To protect her secrets, the neighbours (most of them her tenants) were simply told that the house had been robbed.

  While we waited for the peelers to arrive, McGray and I had a brief chance to talk. Bertha offered us a cup of tea so very sweetly that we could not refuse, and the kind woman offered us a seat in a small breakfast parlour.

  As soon as she left us alone I put an elbow on the table and rubbed my forehead, a torrent of information almost overwhelming my brains. ‘Where shall we start, Nine-Nails? We have a dangerous lunatic at large, not the slightest idea where he might have gone, two crime scenes to investigate, two lots of people to question, a set of mental-health records to read, a dead body being analysed …’

  ‘Och, stop it! Ye sound like a peacock with its balls being squeezed.’

  ‘To say that with such conviction you must have handled a great many avian testicles.’

  McGray cackled. ‘My, oh my! The kitten’s learned how to play! Yer right, Frey. There’s so much to do, and if Lady Glass wants to keep the affair secret, I can tell ye Campbell won’t spare any more men.’

  ‘Indeed. She will be rewarding him handsomely, I am sure. It is a shame it is New Year’s Day and Campbell holds his holidays sacr
ed; if he were here, I could at least try and talk some sense into him.’

  ‘Aye, but he’ll be in his office tomorrow and ye can work yer charms on him then. I won’t be joining ye for that, though.’

  ‘Indeed you shall not,’ I agreed. Superintendent Campbell, despite being the head of the Scottish police forces, was among the many people in Edinburgh who had become intimately acquainted with McGray’s angry fists.

  ‘We’d better split up this morning,’ said McGray. ‘Cover as many lines of inquiry as we can while they’re fresh.’

  ‘Yes, and to save everyone some grief, I’d suggest you carry on the search at the asylum while I investigate here.’

  Right then we heard Lady Anne screaming for another brandy.

  ‘Couldnae agree more,’ said McGray, and within a breath he was on his way.

  All the servants I questioned were wearing black, as Miss Ardglass did, and I recalled they were still mourning Alistair, Lady Anne’s nephew and former head of Edinburgh’s Conservatoire. I had witnessed the very instant of his death, and it would be a long while before the thought of the circumstances ceased to make me shiver. People would soon start murmuring that the Ardglass clan was cursed.

  The penultimate person I summoned was Bertha. She had been very busy and only came when I said I could not wait any longer.

  ‘It appears to me that you have been employed here for quite a while,’ I told her, noticing a slight agitation in her. ‘Am I correct?’

  ‘Aye, sir. Before Miss Caroline was even born.’

  ‘I see. So you got to know Lord Ardglass quite well, I should assume?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘See, I have two conflicting statements as to his character. How would you describe him?’

  She smiled. ‘Oh, he was very gentle, very gentle indeed, sir. And generous. Before he lost his mind, of course.’

  ‘How was his relationship with his mother?’

  Bertha shifted on the chair, visibly uncomfortable. ‘Well, I cannae tell ye it was easy. She was very strict, as ye can imagine, as hard on her son as she was on her business associates. I always thought he was a wee bit scared o’ her, but I could’ve never imagined that one day he would go this far.’