Murder at Locke Abbey

by Winchester, Catherine

  “Outstanding!” Lord Grady’s daughter, Eleanor began to clap, and others around the table joined in.

  “Bravo, my dear.”

  “Very clever.”

  “Excellent.”

  Thea blushed at the praise.

  “But the coin?” Simon Buchan demanded. “How the devil did you make it disappear? You simply must tell us.”

  “It only seems fair to give the gentleman the same time I had to figure out this trick, so if your father and Uncle haven’t figured that out by dinner this evening, I shall show you all how it is done.”

  “You could have a stage show.” Lord Grady said.

  “Thank you, but I have no desire to deceive for a living. My only reason for doing this was to show the psychic’s antics for the chicanery they are, in the hopes that we can return to the real issue here, who killed Mrs Garwood and Mary Potter.”

  “And how,” Simon added.

  “Indeed. But there is no such thing as magic so although Mrs Garwood’s demise seems unnatural, even supernatural, I want to assure you that there is a rational explanation.”

  “Wait one minute though,” Lord Small said. “How did the psychic know what to write on the chalk boards? Her final words were written in one message.”

  “She had help there, in the guise of Mr Platt.” Lord Copley came to stand behind his daughter. “You will perhaps have noticed that he did not talk very much during the time he spent with us, that was because he was paying close attention to the conversations of those around him and passing anything useful onto Madam Davina.”

  “But you can't know that,” Lady Small added.

  “I’m afraid we can,” Cole entered the conversation. “Lady Thea and I had a discussion while within his earshot, about my mother’s death. That whole story was fabricated, I was with her when she died and I did nothing that I needed forgiveness for.”

  “She also used open and ambiguous statements,” Copley explained. “We all have things that we regret and need or want forgiveness for. If I said to anyone at this table, ‘she forgives you’, you would probably all be able to find a woman or girl in your past whom you had wronged in some way. The second statement, supposedly from Mrs Garwood’s ghost, is also ambiguous. A statement such as ‘Don’t trust him’ seems valid but considering that she was murdered, is rather obvious. If her ghost was indeed communicating with is, why did she not give us the name of the person who killed her?”

  “So who did kill Mrs Garwood?” Lord Grady asked.

  “That I have yet to determine,” Thea said with regret. “Our killer, whoever they are, is a great deal more cunning than the psychic but never fear, I will solve this puzzle.”

  “I have absolute faith in that,” Cole told her.

  Thea looked uncomfortable and quickly got to her feet. “Well, I’m sure you all have better things to be doing with your time, so perhaps we should call an end to this demonstration. I’m sure the doctor will be here soon.”

  The party broke up but Cole stayed near Thea.

  “That was magnificent,” he told her.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was small but she wasn’t blushing as she had been doing when he praised her.

  “Thea, is something-”

  “Lady Thea,” Mr Buchan rudely interrupted them. “Might I have my coins back? I believe you have two pounds, two and six of mine.”

  Thea turned to him. Had he not taken every opportunity to try and undermine her, she might have given it to him but as it was, she had no intention of returning his money. Indeed she had a far better purpose for it.

  “If you can recreate the trick, or just explain how it was done, by dinner, I shall return your money to you. If not, I shall donate it to a charity providing relief efforts to the Irish.”

  “You can’t do that! That is my money!”

  “Money which you gave to me, knowing I would make it disappear, so you don’t have a leg to stand on. Consider this an incentive to solve the problem, Mr Buchan. After all, if a simpleton could work it out, it shouldn’t take too much time or trouble, now should it?”

  She curtseyed and made to leave, but Buchan caught her arm, gripping it tightly. “Don’t cross me, girl!”

  He suddenly found himself flanked by both Cole and Copley.

  “Unhand her this instant,” Cole told him, his own hand landing on Buchan’s shoulder and squeezing.

  Buchan looked to his brother, who either hadn’t noticed or wasn’t interested in helping him so reluctantly, he released his hold on Thea and she hurried from the room.

  Cole moved to stand in front of the gentleman.

  “I realise that Lady Thea’s politics have upset you, Sir, but you would be as well to let your anger go. Aside from any action I might take against you, given that she is here to find a murderer, people might start to wonder at such a disproportionate reaction. Some might even suggest that your anger towards her implies guilt.”

  “How dare-”

  “How dare you, Sir! You are a guest in this house and while you have been ordered to remain in the parish, there is nothing preventing me from having you thrown out.”

  “Your father is not dead yet, Cole!”

  “But you are not his guest, Selena invited you, and I am perfectly within my rights to run this estate as I see fit while Father recovers. Do we understand each other?”

  It took Buchan a moment to rein in his anger but finally he nodded his agreement, and Cole turned to follow Thea.

  Copley had watched them closely and fell into step beside him.

  “You have made an enemy there,” he told Cole.

  “Better his anger is directed towards me than Thea.”

  “True but Buchan is a coward and a bully at heart. He will not take his anger out on you.”

  Cole stopped walking abruptly. “You think I have placed her in more danger?”

  “I don’t know but I do admire your need to protect Thea,” Copley admitted. “I also know that he had high hopes for a union between you and his daughter, Eliza, and he is taking your slight of her to heart.”

  “What would you suggest?”

  “Don’t let your guard down around Buchan; he is the sort of man who will bide his time and harbour resentments; he’ll probably let them fester for years if necessary. Be careful.”

  “I will.” Cole nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Now, perhaps you’d be so good as to tell me what you did to upset Thea?”

  “I was actually about to ask you the same thing.” Cole frowned.

  “So you two haven’t quarrelled?”

  “No, she was perfectly happy when I left and I didn’t see her again until breakfast. I wondered if perhaps you had told her that you discovered us in compromising circumstances, and perhaps she was embarrassed or blamed me.”

  “I’ve said nothing. She was very happy this morning, practicing her trickery for the others.”

  They began walking again although at a slow pace, heading towards the entrance hall.

  “I’ll see if I can get her alone for a few moments, perhaps she’ll tell me what’s bothering her.”

  “I would not be hopeful.” Copley sounded resigned. “Thea is almost as stubborn as she is bright.”

  “Why wouldn’t she want to tell me? What could be so awful? Do you think she might have discovered something about my family? Perhaps someone had a hand in the killings?”

  “Do you think that likely?”

  “Not at all, my father is too frail to be a danger to anyone, and my step-mother is manipulative but I don’t believe she is capable of violence. Besides, they both have alibis.”

  “She couldn’t suspect you for some reason?”

  “It’s possible but I cannot think of anything that would lead her to that conclusion. I hardly knew the Garwoods, they’re friends of my step-mother’s, not my father, and if I were to wish harm on them, it would be Mr Garwood, not his wife.”

  “You dislike him?” Copley gave him a sidelong look.

 
“I couldn’t say ‘dislike’. I didn’t have enough interactions with the man to dislike him, but I thought him brash and uncouth at times. His wife on the other hand, I felt rather sorry for. Mr Garwood flirted with every lady present, young or old, except his wife. At times, I thought he was doing it to spite her.”

  “So you witnessed him flirting?” Copley asked.

  “I did. I think everyone did.”

  “Did anyone in particular hold his attention?”

  “No,” he shook his head.

  “Was there anyone he seemed to avoid, other than his wife?”

  “He was less lecherous with the unmarried girls, probably for fear of their fathers, and he seemed to treat my step-mother with more… it’s hard to put into words. He flattered and complimented her as he did the others, but was more respectful, less teasing.”

  “Hmm,” was Copley’s only reply.

  “You think that is significant?” Cole asked.

  “I do, but I can't say why yet.”

  As they approached the entrance hall, they could hear Thea talking to someone and as they rounded the corner, they found her speaking to Dr Kerridge.

  “Ah,” he smiled when he saw them. “Master Cole, we were just talking about you.”

  “Oh?” he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.

  “Yes, I was just telling Lady Thea that I would appreciate her opinion on your father’s ailments but of course, I would need your permission.”

  “You can tell the tooth fairy if you think it can help him, Doctor.”

  A smile tugged at his lips briefly and Cole though that despite a profession that filled his days with death and suffering, he was probably quite a cheerful man, when solemnity wasn’t required.

  “Why don’t we talk in the study,” Cole suggested. “Then I’ll take you to my father.”

  “I have an appointment to keep with Black,” Copley interjected. “So if you’ll excuse me.”

  Thea look surprised and a little hesitant but soon rallied. “Of course, Papa.”

  Copley left and Cole showed Thea and Dr Kerridge into the study. The doctor and Thea seated themselves in the wing backed, Chesterfield armchairs close to the fire but rather than bring another chair over, Cole opted to stand. He offered tea but both refused.

  “Perhaps you can start by telling me Mr Cole’s symptoms?” Thea suggested to the doctor.

  “Yes, of course. Well it began with headaches and confusion, bouts of diarrhoea and lethargy. I wasn’t called in until a few weeks after the onset of symptoms and although there was no fever, I diagnosed an infection and recommended bed rest. The symptoms came and went after that, each time taking a greater toll and often he did not recover from one bout, before the next wave of sickness overcame him. I wondered about undulating fever but as I say, I can detect no fever.”

  “For a time his nurse took his temperature almost hourly,” Cole confirmed. “There were no great fluctuations and certainly no fever.”

  “As things have progressed, have there been any new symptoms?”

  “A worsening in all symptoms, especially the confusion and lethargy. In addition, he occasionally vomits and suffers stomach pains, although that is relatively rare.”

  “Has his hair thinned?” she asked.

  The doctor thought for a moment. “Actually, I believe it has. Why do you ask?”

  “Many illnesses present in a similar manner so the more symptoms we can identify, the easier it will be to determine the cause. Has he also lost weight?”

  “He has,” Dr Kerridge confirmed.

  “To be fair, he has been eating less,” Cole asserted.

  “Yes, it’s often hard to say with loss of appetite if it is a symptom of disease, or caused by it.” Thea seemed to be warming to him a little, or at least, less inclined to snub him with basic answers. “However if it is something such as gastroenteritis, I would expect a fever. Inflammatory bowel disease is possible but hard to diagnose while the patient is alive, and it doesn’t fit symptoms such as his confusion.”

  “Any ideas for what might be the cause, Lady Athena?” Dr Kerridge asked.

  “A lot, unfortunately. It could be dementia, although that term fits such a wide variety of physical and mental symptoms, as to be an almost useless diagnosis. To be frank, the disease that fits the most symptoms is syphilis.”

  The doctor suddenly had a minor coughing fit but Cole was beyond being shocked by Thea now, although he did smile with pride at her bravery.

  “I assume you have been Mr Cole’s doctor for a long time?” she asked the doctor, ignoring his reaction.

  “Indeed,” he managed to splutter.

  “And you have never treated him for the condition?”

  “No.”

  “Have you examined his body for lesions and rashes?”

  “Uh, yes, yes I have. I found nothing, no markings on his skin at all, other than a birth mark and some freckles.”

  “You are certain they were freckles and not a rash or bruising?”

  “I am.”

  “I think the lack of fever is our biggest clue,” Thea mused. “There are not an awful lot of conditions that have his symptoms without also causing an infection, which would leave us with conditions such as black fever, which can cause fatigue, diarrhoea and hair loss, although it is far more common in warm countries. It’s almost always accompanied by either lesions on the skin, or ulcers in the mouth. Did you look in his mouth and throat?”

  “No, I felt his tonsils but they were not enlarged or inflamed.”

  “We can check for ulcers then. Another possibility is a syndrome discovered by Aretaeus, which he termed ‘Cœliac Affection’. He described symptoms such as stomach pain, muscle wastage, thinning hair, weakness and diarrhoea. The disease was liable to periodic return, which would fit what you have observed. Aretaeus believed it was a condition originating in the stomach, resulting in the malabsorption of food, and that it only affected women and the elderly. There is no treatment as such though. Jean Cruveilhier has described malignant gastric ulcers, which could cause some of these symptoms, but not the confusion or headaches.”

  “Can you think of any other possibilities?”

  “Only one, although it fits almost all the symptoms. Thomas Addison is currently researching a condition that causes dizziness, fatigue, diarrhoea and hair loss. He believes it is caused by disease in the suprarenal capsules, although he hasn’t published his findings yet.”

  “What are suprarenal capsules?” Cole asked.

  “They’re two glands, one on each kidney, although their function is as yet unknown.”

  “And the treatment for this condition?” Cole asked.

  “None that I know of.”

  “Would seeing him help?” Cole asked, unwilling to believe that his father wouldn’t recover.

  “It might.”

  “I’ll try to convince him then but… well, the prognosis isn’t good.”

  “Even if I am able to diagnose the condition, I can think of no disease that fits his symptoms and can be cured. I’m so sorry, Cole.”

  He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder but after a moment, she turned towards the doctor, away from his hand.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the two murders, I presume you signed the death certificates?”

  “I did.” He nodded. “What did you want to know?”

  “Would you prefer to see Mr Cole first?”

  “Yes, that might be best.”

  Cole blanched at the doctor’s words, feeling as if his father must truly be at death’s door for a few minutes to make any difference, especially if a cure was out of the question, as it seemed to be.

  He found himself blinking back tears as he held the door open for them and Thea almost stopped, her hand half raised as if to comfort him, then she seemed to come to her senses and hurried on.

  Cole simply had to talk to her alone and find out what had happened to turn her against him.

  Chapter Eleven


  Thea waited outside Mr Cole’s bedroom door as Cole asked if he would agree for her to stay while the doctor examined him. The door was ajar but Thea kept her distance, unwilling to overhear any more unwanted news. The crash of something metallic (probably being thrown, judging by the raised voices immediately preceding it) was enough to tell her that she would not be admitted to the room.

  Cole came out a minute or so later. She had backed away from the door, clearly showing that she knew the outcome but Cole approached anyway.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, a gesture that her father had once explained to her, was defensive.

  Ever since this morning, she had felt completely out of sorts. She had expected to be able to simply cut Cole short when he tried to speak with her, she had thought she would be able to harden her heart, to use her anger at him as a barrier, but clearly this was different to any other time she had been hurt.

  She found herself exceptionally aware of him at all times and sometimes, almost forgetting her own pain in favour of offering him some comfort.

  The demonstration of the psychic’s illusions had gone well but that didn’t require much brain power on her part. The discussion with the doctor had gone decidedly less well, and she was sure she was forgetting at least three conditions which could cause Mr Cole’s symptoms. She hadn’t asked as much as she should have either, but she was unable to remember the list she had made in her head, which was most unlike her.

  As Cole approached now, she hunched her shoulders, wondering how she was going to stand to be around him until they had found the killer.

  “I’m sorry, Thea, he said no.”

  “He said a good deal worse than that, I’d wager.”

  “Indeed.” He didn’t even smile at her joke. “I need to speak with you.”