An Improper Death (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Mysteries Book 2)

by Paula Paul

  “Indeed. And how do you know that?”

  “Well, of course she would,” Nancy said, taking a few steps toward him. “She will appreciate whatever we can learn in her absence. She’ll see it as saving her time, she will.”

  Nicholas considered it for a moment. The truth was, he had thought of going on to Gull House himself as soon as Nancy told him Alexandra was gone. He would have to take the dog, of course, in the hope that he would lead the way to the boat in question. But he had second thoughts about the animal, who was none too friendly toward him, and who, he suspected, would not be inclined to cooperate. Nancy, on the other hand, got on with Zack as well as Alexandra did.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” he said at length. “Fetch your cloak and gloves. Oh, and bring along something to tie the dog to the carriage so he’ll be sure to follow us.”

  “No need for that,” Nancy called to him over her shoulder as she turned back to the door. “He’ll follow.”

  Nancy was right. The dog did follow, his size allowing him to lumber along with the horse without hurrying. As they approached the house, Nancy, with her usual lack of concern for the propriety of the situation, told him where and when to stop.

  “Stop the carriage here, sir,” she said when they were still several yards away from the steep drive to Gull House at the top of the hill. “I don’t think we should go any further up, lest someone sees us. This will give us a chance to meander in the woods to see if we can spot the boat. We’ll let Zack go ahead, of course, since, if I know the old boy as well as I think I do, it’s likely he’ll go back to the boat that got him into trouble to start with.”

  Nicholas could see no reason not to do her bidding, so he secured the horse and carriage to a tree and turned back to help Nancy out of the carriage, only to find she had already alighted. She was standing with her hands on her hips, surveying the woods. The dog sat beside her, his panting breath forming a jagged ghost of a cloud that disappeared quickly into the ether. He showed no sign of wanting to return to the scene of his last crime.

  Nancy, who once again appeared to have read his mind, said, “Poor Zack may be afraid I’ll scold him. Perhaps we should walk away and leave him to his own devices.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Nicholas said. “Where do you propose we go?”

  “I suggest we take the carriage up to Gull House and leave Zack here, just as Miss Alex did. She told me it peeved him to be left behind, and she thinks that’s why he wandered away into the woods.”

  “Very well.” Nicholas stood beside the carriage, ready to help her in, but she was busy now, instructing the dog that he was to stay at the bottom of the hill. The animal actually seemed to be arguing with her with an odd-sounding growl, but in the end, she seemed to think she had succeeded in convincing him and allowed herself to be helped into the carriage and driven away. When Nicholas glanced back at the dog, he didn’t appear to be at all malcontent. He wagged his tail a few seconds, then sat down with what someone more sentimental than himself might call a contented look, his breath a puff of white against the grey morning.

  Nancy was once again full of advice as Nicholas drove the carriage up the hill. “We will go to the door together, and I shall tell the housekeeper that Dr. Gladstone has instructed me to come to see after Mrs. Orkwright. It won’t seem at all strange to her, since I have taken on such duties before in the doctor’s absence. As for you, I suppose we can say that the doctor asked you to drive me in your carriage, what with the morning being so cold.”

  Nicholas had to admit to himself that the old girl was clever, and she was probably as conniving a woman as he’d ever met.

  Nancy’s artful ruse did at least get them inside, where they were told by the grim, unsmiling woman known as Annie to wait in the parlor. “She’s an odd one, that one,” Nancy whispered when they were alone. “And dangerous, as you know. Tried to kill young John, if Rob is right. Odd thing, the constable never questioning him, what?”

  “I suppose…” Nicholas was a bit distracted, “but I’m wondering—”

  “Tell you what I think,” Nancy interrupted. “I think ’tis because he knows Mrs. Orkwright wouldn’t want him asking too many questions. He’s fond of her, he is.”

  “Nancy.” Nicholas sounded exasperated. “The important question is why would Annie want to kill John?”

  “When a woman kills, she’s protecting someone. Sometimes ’tis herself.” Nancy whispered without looking at him. Her eyes were still fixed in the direction in which Annie had disappeared.

  Nicholas pondered her words. If Annie had indeed taken a shot at John, was she protecting herself? Or Mrs. Orkwright? Or someone else?

  He grew restless waiting for Annie to return and found himself walking around the room aimlessly, first staring out the window at the view of the bleak sea coast, then inspecting a rather bad painting of what must have been the admiral’s ancestor. Finally, he meandered across the room to the gun cabinet. He was something of a gun aficionado, and his interest was captured by the small but impressive collection he found there. There was a Welby-Green revolver, quite the new thing. It had only been introduced this year. Next to it was a shotgun. The maker was W.J. Jeffery and Company of London, which meant the gun was handmade to suit the owner. Another W.J. Jeffery of a considerably larger caliber was next to it. It was the sort of gun gentlemen used for tiger hunting in India. Nicholas had one himself, also made by Jeffery.

  It was the Mauser that astonished him, though. It would have fired the 446 caliber bullet the stable boy had found in the ceiling of the stable. But of even more interest was the fact that there was a smudge of powder at the end of the barrel.

  He took a quick glance over his shoulder before he attempted to open the glass door of the cabinet. To his great surprise, it was not locked. Whoever had put the gun back in the cabinet without cleaning it must have been in a hurry and forgot to lock it. He reached for the Mauser, then he held the end of the barrel to his right eye and peered into it. The inside of the barrel was coated with powder residue. It had obviously been fired and not cleaned. It was equally obvious that the remaining guns in the cabinet had been meticulously cleaned, probably by the admiral. It would seem unlikely that he would put one away dirty.

  “Sir! What are you doing? Put that away before someone sees you!” Nancy’s warning came in an urgent whisper, and when he turned to look at her, he saw that her eyes were wide with alarm.

  He said nothing, but he put the rifle away and had just seated himself in the chair he’d occupied before when Annie returned. Nancy still wore her alarmed look, which she quickly masked when she saw Annie.

  “Mrs. Orkwright is not yet awake, and I’ll not awaken her. She has hardly rested at all since her son was injured and taken back to gaol.” Annie’s eyes had the cold of the North Sea in them and her large frame menaced the room like a brewing storm.

  Nancy stood. “Of course. Dr. Gladstone can see her when she returns.” She had accomplished her mission by establishing an excuse for being on the property, so she wasn’t going to put up a fuss.

  “She’s been through too much and needs her rest,” Annie said, as if she hadn’t heard Nancy and needed to make her point.

  “See that she gets it, then.” Nancy was already moving toward the door. “And don’t bother seeing us out. We can find the way.” She turned back to Annie and, with a cheerful smile, said, “Tell Mrs. Orkwright that Dr. Gladstone sends her greeting and will call on her later.” Her smile disappeared as they made their way to the carriage. “Did you notice the innocent charade? Pure gall, I’d say.” She spoke in a low voice, as she leaned closer to Nicholas in order for him to hear her.

  “If you’re referring to the fact that she spoke so casually about John’s injury, then yes, I agree,” Nicholas said as he helped Nancy into the carriage.

  “Pure gall,” Nancy said again.

  “Most surprising though, was that she practically flaunted the weapon she used to shoot the boy.”

  Nancy
leaned forward and spoke to him from the back of the carriage. “You found the weapon? Is that what you were doing when you were meddling with the admiral’s guns?”

  “Meddling?” Nicholas gave the rein a gentle flick across the horse’s back.

  “Perhaps I overstepped my bounds.”

  “Of course you did, Nancy. You are perpetually out of bounds.” Nicholas threw the words at her from over his shoulder.

  There was a long silence that left Nicholas wondering if Nancy actually felt chastened by his words. If she did, it would be quite out of character. Nancy was impertinent, devious, and rather overly confident. The kind of girl who should have been fired long ago. But he had to admit he liked her.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she said finally, leaning forward again. “You were telling me about the weapon you found.”

  Nicholas smiled to himself. She was very much in character after all. “The weapon she used to wound John,” he said.

  “But how can you be sure?”

  He told her about the powder residue and how the caliber of bullets fired by the Mauser matched the one found in the ceiling.

  “Am I right? Did she try to kill him to protect Mrs. Orkwright?” Nancy said.

  “We don’t know, do we? As you said, if we could solve the puzzle that is Annie, we could get to the bottom of this.” Nicholas stopped the carriage at the bottom of hill where they had left Zack, but Zack was nowhere in sight. They got out of the carriage and called his name. Within a few minutes Zack came bounding dutifully out of the woods.

  Nancy put her hands to her face. “Just look at him! He’s covered with that sticky pitch and tar again.”

  “And that is precisely what we’d hoped for.” Nicholas took a cautious step toward Zack. “Come on, boy, show us where you’ve been.” Zack ignored him and lay down at Nancy’s feet.

  Nicholas knew he was going to have to learn to get along with the beast, but for now, he was determined to find the boat, so he walked into the woods himself. It was not until Nancy ventured into the woods that Zack followed, however. But follow was all he was in the mood to do. He showed no inclination at all of leading them to the spot where he’d encountered the sealant.

  Almost half an hour elapsed before Nicholas saw the pile of dead branches and leaves near an area of dense brush. As he drew closer he saw that the branches covered the prow of a small wooden craft. The rest of the boat had been pushed, stern first, into the brush where it rested upside down. Pitch and tar oozed from the seams on the bottom of the boat.

  Nicholas turned around and signaled for Nancy, who was searching several yards away. “Look,” he said when she drew closer. “Someone has gone to a bit of trouble to hide this.”

  Nancy frowned. “But why would anyone want it hidden?”

  “If the admiral was supposed to have rowed himself out to sea, then fell out of his boat and drowned, the boat should still be out there, or else washed up to shore, battered and broken.”

  “Of course!” Nancy said. “But whoever rowed him out to sea to drown him had to use the boat to come back.”

  “Precisely.”

  “But who?”

  “Who indeed.” Nicholas was struggling with the boat, trying to right it. “Help me turn this boat over, Nancy. Perhaps something to answer that perplexing question will reveal itself.”

  When the craft was finally righted, there was nothing to see except the interior of the boat and a bit of leaves, dry grass, twigs and other debris on the floor that had been caught by the sticky sealant.

  By the time Mary’s body had been prepared by the nurses and removed from the ward and Alexandra had spent some time comforting Fin, it was too late to start the long drive home. She and Fin were each given rooms in the dormitories for the night, and Fin drove her home in grieving silence the next day.

  It was half past noon when they arrived. Lucy was saddled and waiting for her in the stable yard. The boys had obviously expected her back early enough to do her rounds. Only one carriage was waiting in the front. Perhaps that meant there were only a few patients waiting to see her. She could assume one or two had walked from the village. It would be fortunate for her if the patient load was small. She was tired, both physically and emotionally, because of the long ride, the ordeal of Mary’s death, and most of all, Mary’s strange confession. She’d been mulling over all of it during the drive home.

  She bid Fin goodbye and walked to the door with her key ready, but before she could insert the key, Nancy opened the door and greeted her with, “We have news!”

  Zack immediately forced himself in front of Nancy in order to greet Alexandra with a happy bark and a nudge of her thigh with his nose that was almost enough to unbalance her. That left her with no choice but to greet him with a hug and a scratch under his neck. She was dismayed to find that her hands and the front of her dress were covered with the same sticky substance Nancy had cleaned from Zack’s coat earlier.

  “What sort of news?” she asked, peering around Zack’s head.

  Nicholas then surprised her by stepping into the hall from the parlor.

  “Mr. Forsythe!”

  “Good morning, Alexandra.”

  At the same time, Nancy said, “We found the boat.”

  Alexandra stood and glanced from Nancy back to Nicholas. “You found—”

  “Near Gull House,” Nicholas said. “Someone had attempted to hide it.”

  “So that means the murderer is someone at Gull House!” Nancy sounded excited.

  “Not necessarily.” Alexandra walked to the parlor, removing her cloak and gloves.

  Nancy hurried to receive them. “Oh, I know ’tis not absolute proof, but with all the other evidence we have—”

  “Someone else has confessed to the murder. Someone not at Gull House.”

  Nancy stopped on her way to hang Alexandra’s cloak and turned to face her. “Someone… Who?”

  At the same time, Nicholas said, “Confessed? To the constable?”

  Alexandra sat down in her favorite chair next to the fire. “Not to the constable, sir, to me.”

  Nicholas sat down across from her. “But—”

  “Mary Prodder told me she killed the admiral herself.”

  Nancy, for once, was speechless. She simply stared at her. Nicholas gave her an incredulous look. “The same Mary Prodder who is confined to her bed with a broken hip?” he asked.

  “Yes, the same. Her last words to me before she died were a confession.”

  Nancy gasped and whispered, “She died? Oh no. I am so sorry, Miss.” She was well aware of the effect a patient’s death had on Alexandra.

  “I don’t understand,” Nicholas said. “How could she have possibly killed him when she couldn’t walk?”

  Alexandra shook her head. “Her injury occurred on the same night the admiral apparently died. She could have fallen on her way home after killing him.” Alexandra felt very tired as well as depressed. It was a welcome feeling to have Zack nuzzling her ankles now, in spite of the fact that he was covered with that sticky substance, along with dirt and bits of the same odd black grass he’d attracted before. She found herself absently pulling the grass from his back and twisting it with her fingers. It was then that she realized it wasn’t grass at all. If Nancy and Nicholas were speaking to her, she didn’t notice it for some time as she shifted and sorted through everything she knew about the admiral’s death. Zack continued to nuzzle her, and she heard Nancy say something about his needing another bath.

  “’Tis not an easy feat to get that animal into the tub,” Nancy said.

  It was the mention of the tub that started Alexandra to thinking of the admiral in his tub when he was drunk and of all that Mary had said. She looked at Nancy and then at Nicholas. “I must go to Gull House,” she said.

  He gave her a surprised look. “Shall I take you in my hired carriage?”

  “I must go alone.”

  “Alone?” Nancy blurted. “Of course not, we must all go.”

  Alexandra re
ached for the cloak and gloves Nancy still held. “I think I know who killed the admiral, and you’re right, Nancy, the killer is at Gull House.”

  “If you know, then you can’t go without us!” Nancy called to her as she walked out the door.

  Alexandra turned back to her and saw Nicholas standing behind her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Too many people will upset all of them.”

  “All of them?” Nancy called, but Alexandra made no reply as she hurried to the stables.

  As soon as she reached the stable yard, both Artie and Rob materialized from somewhere to help her mount Lucy. They were talkative as usual.

  “Did the old lady make her confession?” Rob asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Did she die?” Artie asked.

  “I’m afraid she did.”

  “Was it something grand and awful? The confession, I mean.” Rob asked.

  “Don’t be impertinent, Rob.”

  “You’re late making your rounds, Miss,” Artie added.

  “I am, indeed,” she said, taking the reins from Rob and nudging Lucy to a quick trot so she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions.

  Just as she expected, Annie was reluctant to allow her in the house. “Mrs. Orkwright is resting,” she said, “and she doesn’t need your services anyway. I told that troublesome maid of yours the same. She should have relayed it to you.”

  “I’m not here to offer my services. I’m here on an urgent personal matter.”

  Annie hesitated a moment, and something changed in her eyes. “It’s John, isn’t it? What are you going to tell her?”

  Alexandra took a step into the hall. If Annie chose, she could easily stop her, since she was heavier by three stone. But Annie didn’t stop her. She moved away, her expression grim and defeated as Alexandra entered.

  Neither did Annie walk ahead of Alexandra to announce her arrival, as was her duty. Instead, she followed as Alexandra made her way to the parlor where she assumed Jane would be. She was right. Jane sat alone in the cold room, lighted only by the smoky coal fire in the fireplace. She stared out the window at the bleak afternoon while she twisted a handkerchief in her hands. She looked as if she’d been crying. Sensing a presence in the room, she turned her face toward Alexandra and Annie.