When I arrived in the infirmary, Alexander seemed fine, but I noticed an empty bed where William should have been.
“Have you seen William Wilson?” I asked Alice as she passed by me in the hall pushing a cart full of pills.
“No,” she said in her usual harsh voice. “I’ve been busy all morning. If you’ll excuse me, Doctor Watson, I’ve work to do.”
“Of course,” I said to her, and then after looking into each room on the first floor with no sign of William, I headed upstairs to the men’s ward. He was not in there either, and so I cut through the Atrium to go back downstairs.
“Have you seen William Wilson?” I asked Lamont who was in the Atrium guiding Martha around for a small walk. It was raining again, so none of the patients wanted to go outside.
“I’m sorry, Doctor Watson, I haven’t. I thought he was in the infirmary.”
I headed straight to Doctor Reid’s office.
“Doctor Reid,” I said quickly. “William Wilson is missing. He’s not in the infirmary or anywhere else in the asylum.”
“No. He isn’t,” Doctor Reid looked up from the report he was writing at his desk. “I’m sorry, Doctor Watson. I thought Heathcliff would’ve told you. William was discharged early this morning.”
“What? Why?” I exclaimed.
I shut his office door and sat down in one of the chairs by his desk.
“Want one?” He said, offering me a cigarette.
“Yes, thanks,” I said. He lit the cigarette and I continued to speak between smokes.
“He was having difficulty breathing. I examined him
myself just yesterday. I don’t think that he was well, doctor. Certainly not well enough to be discharged.”
“His daughters and his wife wanted him home.”
“But is he well enough to be home?”
“I thought so...when I examined him.”
“Well...what about what was done to him?”
“What was done to him, Paul?”
I leaned in close.
“I have reason to believe Woods and Hodgson did hurt him.”
“And you have evidence of this?”
“No, but...” I sat back in my chair. “I needed more time with William.”
“Paul, accusing Woods and Hodgson of a crime like that is very serious. They would be tried in court...go to jail if found guilty. Are you absolutely sure it was Woods and Hodgson that hurt William?”
“I told you, I don’t have the evidence yet...but I know I could get it out of them if I had more time.”
“Perhaps you should let it go, Paul. William Wilson is no longer our concern.”
“I thought you said no one leaves Kolney Hatch?”
“I believe I said that a person leaves Kolney Hatch by a rare circumstance or death. This....is a rare circumstance.”
“And what if they did beat him, Doctor? They could harm someone else.”
Doctor Reid folded one hand over the other.
“Paul, perhaps you’ve misunderstood your position here at Kolney Hatch. I’m the superintendent, and I’ve chosen...after careful consideration...to discharge William Wilson. Now, if you want to continue as a doctor here, then you’ll need to focus on your patients...not run around solving mysteries. Patients get hurt, Paul, and regardless of how, our duty is to make sure the patients are well in the end. Anything could’ve happened to William in that ward...we’ll just never know the real story.”
I could not believe what Doctor Reid was saying. I knew William Wilson was not well enough to be discharged. I knew Woods and Hodgson hurt William. But there was nothing I could do.
“Are we in agreement?”
I nodded my head.
“Splendid. Now. Moving forward. I’m going to need you to write up the report on Alexander Parker and have it on my desk in half an hour.”
“Of course,” I said, taking a final drag of my cigarette. “I apologize for my tone earlier.”
“Not to worry.”
Filled with apprehension, I stood up and headed back to my office.
sixteen FREDERICK HUME
Paul Watson’s Journal
June 1, 8in the evening.—I tried not to think about what had transpired between Doctor Reid and me as I sat at my desk and wrote up the report on Alexander, but I couldn’t concentrate. William Wilson’s horror-filled eyes haunted me, and I was still tired from my bad sleep. The vision of my mother had me thinking once more about her murder, how her killer was still out there.
I needed to be alone, or even more so, I needed to escape my thoughts.
But Doctor Reid was already angry with me. I needed to finish this report. And so I did, and after I dropped it off at his empty office, I headed straight to the men’s ward.
Heathcliff sat on a stool, reading through a document.
“Where are Woods and Hodgson?” I asked him.
“Not here,” Heathcliff snapped without looking up.
Perhaps he was still angry that I spent time with Rosalind.
“Well...I need to speak to the Captain...”
Heathcliff looked up, and his eyes narrowed.
“Why? He’s not your patient.”
A woman’s scream came from downstairs, startling Heathcliff and me.
“I’ll check it out,” I said, and turned to leave the ward.
“No. No,” Heathcliff said, “Watch th’ ward for a moment, will you? I’ll call you if someone’s hurt.”
Heathcliff hurried out of the room, and I turned to see the Captain, dressed in a tattered garb, blabbering to himself in the corner of the ward.
“She’s here. Coming.”
“Captain,” I said gently to him, but he did not look up.
“Put him in a box....”
“Captain, please, I need your help...”
“Cut him up and let ‘em rot.”
“You have to tell me what happened to William,” I whispered.
The Captain stopped suddenly.
“You,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “You shouldn’t be here. I thought I told you to leave.”
“Captain, please. William Wilson. Do you remember him?”
“He was a good soldier,” the Captain said nodding his head. Then tears filled his eyes. “He died in my arms.”
“Captain...please try to remember the day William was hurt. Was he hurt by the attendants here? Woods and Hodgson?”
“So...many died.”
“Captain...”
“So...many...friends.”
Then The Captain looked at me.
“Leave this place.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Leave...before it’s too late.”
Then his eyes were vacant again and he began jabbering once more. I knew then I would not receive any reliable information from him.
Heathcliff did not return. Instead, the tall muscular scar-faced Hodgson did.
“I know what you and Woods did to William,” I accused. “I know you both beat him. And I’m going to prove it.”
He smirked at me but said nothing.
“You can smirk all you want to Hodgson, but I’m going to find evidence against you. You’ll pay for what you’ve done to William.”
“Let me know when you find that evidence, Doctor Watson,” Hodgson scoffed.
Without saying another word, I left the ward. I headed straight for the kitchen.
Sheldon took one look at my disheveled, distressed face and understood I needed a drink.
“Come wi’ me,” Sheldon said, leading me into the large kitchen.
Inside the kitchen it was hot and smelled like old rotted food and grease. I had to hold my nose. Sheldon laughed at me.
“Guessin’ yah haven’t been in many kitchens,” he said.
“Not really,” I answered as we walked across the dull red floor.
A few patients were washing dishes in large basins. Some of the other kitchen staff was slicing the lamb for dinner on steel tables. Sheldon stopped by the last cupboard
at the far end of the kitchen just past the ovens and pulled out an unopened bottle of whiskey.
“Let me tell yah ‘bout this whiskey, Doctor Watson. Cardhu, single malt. Will slide down wi’ faultless manners, I promise,” he said handing me the bottle. “It’ll calm those nerves.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the bottle.
I walked out of there intending to drink enough Cardhu to get me through the day. But as I headed toward the stairs, I heard a scream in the direction of the dining room. I hurried out to the sun porch to find Nurse Bigsby in tears. Heathcliff stood next to her.
“What’s happened?” I asked.
Lamont had joined us by then.
“It’s Frederick Hume,” Heathcliff said sorrowfully. “He’s dead.”
Nurse Bigsby continued to cry in Heathcliff’s arms.
“Have you seen Alice?” Heathcliff asked Lamont.
He shook his head.
“How did he die?” I asked.
“He tried to escape through the river. But he didn’t make it across. He drowned.”
“What?” Lamont exclaimed.
“I’ll get Doctor Reid,” I said, and hurried off to find him.
Doctor Reid wasn’t in his office, so I hurried out to the back grounds to his cottage. I banged on his large oak door.
“Doctor Reid!” I yelled to him. “Doctor Reid! There’s been a death. You must hurry.”
He opened the door moments later looking a bit disheveled.
“What’s happened?” He asked me.
“Frederick Hume. He drowned in the river trying to escape.”
“For heavens sake, no.”
He hurried past me toward the asylum without closing the front door, so I went to do it for him. I could not help but peer inside.
“Thomas, you left the door…” a woman’s voice called, stopping abruptly when she saw my face.
Alice. She had let her long, dark hair out of her tight bun and wore only a robe. For a moment, we both stood in shock at my discovery. The patients had spoken of this affair. I had not believed them. Alice was allegedly a married woman. Then again, who was I to judge? I only stood in that doorway for seconds, but it felt like several minutes. Alice just stood there, frozen, with horror-filled eyes.
“Frederick Hume is dead,” was all I could say.
And then I shut the door and hurried back to the asylum.
seventeen
THE KIDNAPPING
“Lady Dane is an appalling woman. Her granddaughter deserved every bit of humiliation she received,” Mrs. Wendell said. “What else did she say to you?”
“Nothing really. But she would have continued on had John Loxley not swept in and smoothed everything over.”
“The Loxleys,” Mrs. Wendell scoffed. “Bunch of miscreants.”
“Perhaps comments like that are the reason you weren’t invited to the party, Tessie,” Petunia said with a laugh.
Mrs. Wendell played with the pearls around her neck and turned her face away from Petunia.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to attend such a dreadfully boring party anyway. Now are you sure nothing else interesting happened?”
Petunia had thought long and hard about whether to tell Mrs. Wendell about Richard Baker’s indecent behavior. Normally, Petunia would have delighted in delivering the salacious details of what she saw the night of the party. All she had to do was tell Tessie Wendell what had happened, and Richard and Claire Baker’s lives would change forever, and not for the better.
But Petunia did not want to ruin Richard and Claire’s lives. She was no longer interested in spreading gossip. She had the realization that perhaps other people’s business was none of her concern. After all, her life with Phillip was full of secrets and disgrace, and Petunia realized more and more that she ought to keep her mouth shut.
Just then Beatrice returned from the lavatory.
“Nothing else happened, unless you count Roger Loxley’s peculiar behavior as something,” Petunia continued.
“Miscreants....all of them.”
“John is so handsome. Edgar is, too,” Beatrice remarked as she flopped onto the couch.
“Yes, well, I don’t think Edgar is going to fancy you,” Mrs. Wendell said in her usual shrill voice.
“Why not?”
“If one thing is for certain, Edgar Loxley is not interested in women.”
“Well, I mean we don’t know that for sure…only rumors of course,” Petunia interjected.
“Petunia, please, you’ve said it yourself plenty of times.”
“I may have in the past yes, but…”
“It hardly matters,” Beatrice interrupted. “John is still available. Oh...speaking of the Loxleys, I overheard Constable Wyatt again today…”
“Beatrice, I do not approve of you scouting around police headquarters and following the constables. They’re going to catch you one day. Someone somewhere is going to notice.”
“Oh, Auntie. They have no clue I’m listening or following them. I’m very discreet.”
“Beatrice Wendell! That is unladylike.”
Mrs. Wendell was furious, but Petunia was curious.
“Well, what did they say?”
“Agatha is still missing, but they’ve found no body or evidence to suggest she’s dead, so they believe whoever kidnapped her is hiding her somewhere.”
“Did they say how they know she was kidnapped?”
“Oh, yes, um, well, you see, Roger Loxley is the one who last saw her, and he told them that Agatha was with an older gentleman that she was seeing.”
Petunia felt a large pit in her stomach. Could Phillip have been involved in Agatha’s disappearance after all? Beatrice continued.
“And this man and Agatha were arguing outside the Chelsea Arts Club the night she went missing.”
“Were there any other witnesses?” Mrs. Wendell asked.
“No, just Roger.”
“Did he recognize the man?” Petunia asked nervously. “Did he say who it was?” Petunia felt the lump in her throat grow larger.
“No. Apparently, he said he’d never seen him before, and that he looked as though he was from out of town,” Beatrice squeaked.
“American. I knew it.” Mrs. Wendell huffed.
“No, not American, Auntie, just not from London.”
“American,” Mrs. Wendell said again nodding her head.
“But still couldn’t she have willingly gone off with this man?”
“No. You see, when they searched her home, nothing was missing. Not one ounce of clothing, nothing. She just...vanished.”
“And the man?” Petunia asked.
“No one can find a man with the description Roger provided.”
“That is peculiar indeed.”
“And what’s more, they still feel very strongly that Agatha’s disappearance is connected to the murder of Louisa Stilwell.”
“Why?”
“Agatha and Louisa were best friends. You see, they think Louisa had been going to the police about something, something the killer did or knew. Agatha must have known also.”
“That doesn’t explain why the killer, this American, would kill one woman and leave the other trapped or hidden somewhere.”
“Auntie, he isn’t American,” Beatrice said again.
“Well, you don’t know that.”
Beatrice ignored the comment and continued to speak.
“Maybe the killer didn’t mean to kill Louisa. Maybe he went to reason with her, to persuade her not to tell anyone what he’d done,” she said in her high-pitched tone, “but then, the situation went wrong, and he killed her. Some men have an awful temper.”
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Wendell interjected.
“And maybe Agatha knew his secret too, but didn’t plan on telling anyone because she loved him, so he kidnapped her and is stowing her somewhere, so she will never tell his secret.”
“Of course this is all speculation,” Petunia answered quickly. “Perhaps this man argued with her, left
that evening, and someone else came along and snatched Agatha. I mean, after all, does this man Roger described even exist? They obviously cannot find him. Maybe Louisa’s death isn’t related to Agatha’s disappearance at all…”
“Well, what has gotten into you Petunia?”
“Nothing, I’m just suggesting another theory.”
That night, when the women were gone, and everyone was asleep, Petunia cried as she lay in her bed. She wondered if Phillip could have been the one to hurt Louisa and kidnap Agatha. She wondered if Roger’s description of this man from “out of town” was only to protect Phillip. Perhaps Agatha had been seeing another older man in addition to Phillip. After all, when she asked Phillip if he murdered Agatha, he laughed at Petunia, told her that he was crazy about Agatha. Did that mean he kidnapped her instead of killed her? But then Petunia wondered something else. What was the secret that Louisa was trying to deliver to the police that would warrant a man to kill her?
eighteen
THE MYSTERIOUS GIRL
Letter from Paul Watson to Amy Rose
“My dearest Amy, “2 June, 10 o’clock”
I remember the day we met as well. I saw your big beautiful eyes glaring at me as you peered through that thorny bush in my Aunt’s garden, and I chased after you in the field. And when I finally caught up to you, you were crying because you lost your locket. I remember that locket—beautiful diamond and ruby encrusted golden cattails, and a picture of you on the right. I remember we looked for that locket all day and found it by a thorny bush. The thought of that memory makes me smile.
My mother was happy I found a friend to take my mind off the war. Strange, how I feel so close to you, and yet I hardly know you. What is your life like now? What brings you happiness and peace? I seem to have forgotten what makes me truly happy.
“Yours Always,
“Paul”
Paul Watson’s Journal
June 2, evening.—I had the day off. Doctor Reid felt it was important not to overwhelm me and thought perhaps he spoke too harshly the other day. I think, however, the sudden day off and Doctor Reid’s apology were the result of my discovery. Alice had not even looked me in the eye since I discovered her half-clothed in Doctor Reid’s cottage. In any event, I had not had a free day in an entire month, and I desperately needed it. I grabbed the unopened bottle of Cardhu and headed down the stairs.
The Secret of Kolney Hatch Page 10
