Except the Dying
- Автор: Jennings Maureen
- Серия: The Murdoch Mysteries #1
- Год: 1997
- Язык: английский
- Год: McClelland & Stewart
- ISBN: 9780771043208
- Жанр: Полицейские детективы
Электронная книга - «Except the Dying». Краткое содержание книги:
In the cold Toronto winter of 1895, the unclad body of a servant girl is found frozen in a deserted laneway. Detective William Murdoch quickly finds out that more than one person connected with the girl's simple life has something to hide. From the Paperback edition.
Kelly returned. “Hey, Willie me boyo, you look right at home. Perhaps one day ye’ll be a Yeoman yerself.”
“Sure. And one day we’ll be able to live on the moon. Come on, what’ve you got?”
The steward was carrying a stack of papers speared on a metal spike. He pulled half of them off and gave them to Murdoch.
“You take those. They’re all the chits for the last week. These rooms are referred to as the Cabinet Section. This particular one is called the Gladstone. The others are the Peel, the Wellington and the Disraeli. Sometimes the waiters will note which particular room they’re serving and sometimes they don’t.”
He held the papers down with his thumb and started to leaf through them. Murdoch followed suit. Many of the signatures were of prominent men. The Yeoman Club admitted only the most eminent of Toronto’s Christian citizens.
After a few minutes, Kelly said, “Will you stick to the job at hand? You’re oohing and aahing like a chambermaid at a banquet.”
“It’s interesting to the policeman in me … Alderman Blong ordered four magnums of Champagne?”
“He was entertaining his fellow councilmen.”
“Speaking of which, here’s a chit for McDonough. He’s our medical officer.”
“Good man?”
“Let’s say the colonel likes him because he’s very efficient.” He imitated the doctor putting his ear to a man’s chest. “‘Hmm, Constable, sounds like the Don River in there. But nothing to worry about. I don’t want to keep a young swell like you off the beat. Get yourself some goose grease, rub it on your chest and wear a flannel vest. Next!’”
Kelly laughed. “I know the kind. In the camp it was sheer luck who came in the door first, the physician or the undertaker. But that bill belongs to Hugh McDonough, the doctor’s sprig. He’s a regular here. He and his friends.”
There was a curious tone to Kelly’s voice.
“Don’t you care for him?”
The steward shrugged. “The Good Lord made many species of animal for his ark.”
“He was in one of the Cabinet rooms on Saturday. He must have had guests, unless he’s in training to oust the Fat Man at the Exhibition. Two magnums of hot Champagne and a quart of fresh oysters. No, two quarts of oysters.”
“He always has company. He has a passion for cards and he’s here ’til all hours. I don’t know when he does his learning. He’s supposedly studying medicine himself, God help us.”
“So’s the Rhodes scion. Is he a member here?”
“No. Just his father.”
“Ever see him? Redhead, lathy build, nobby dresser.”
“Can’t say I have.” Suddenly, Kelly jumped up. “Here we go. Dr. Rhodes ordered a glass of Harvey’s cream sherry on Wednesday night. Let’s see, that was Humphrey’s shift too, which means it was early on in the evening. The man went home with a digestive problem, so I know. Me suspicion is he tipples, but I’ve yet to catch him.”
“Who, Rhodes?”
“No, you daft boyo, the waiter Humphrey.”
“Rhodes says he came here about seven o’clock. Do the waiters enter the room when they bring the drinks?”
“Not without permission. They are told to knock and place the tray outside the door.”
“So we can’t know if the doctor was alone or not.”
“No, not unless the waiter overheard someone. Ye’re thinking of a female person, I presume?”
Murdoch nodded. He finished his pile. “There’s nothing else, and he says he was here from early evening until the next morning. What was he eating, snow?”
“Regrettably that doesn’t prove anything. He could have gone to the dining room and somebody else paid his meal.”
“Did you see him?”
“No, but I was in my office a lot of the time.”
“Sean, I’m going to have to ask questions.”
“They won’t like it, Will. Be careful, me friend. These aren’t your usual nocky piss-makers. These are the Uprights. You’ve got to be very sure of yourself or you’re the one who’ll get it.”
“I’m aware of that.” Murdoch sighed. “Unfortunately, we’re not much further forward. We’ve confirmed Rhodes was here at the club Wednesday evening but there is no proof that he stayed the night. And even if he did, it’s possible to come and go from these rooms without being seen. He could have slipped off, met Alice Black, killed her and been back to enjoy a good night’s sleep with nobody the wiser. We’ve nothing for Shepcote, but he said he was at home, anyway.”
Murdoch leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. He was tired and he hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Maybe Sean could stand him a dish of oysters or a plate of roast beef. His friend must have read his mind.
“Come on back to my office. This is a quiet time of the evening. I can order us some lamb chops. The cook is excellent, as you can imagine.”
“All right. But let me see the other rooms first.”
“What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know. A ghost to talk to me maybe.”
Kelly replaced the chits on the spike and led the way to the adjoining room. The plaque on the door said WELLINGTON but this room differed from the Gladstone only in the choice of wall covering, which was brown, and the oil paintings, which were all military: the Zulu attack on the garrison at Roke’s Drift, General Gordon making his last stand at Khartoum.
Murdoch walked around but the room was unrevealing.
“Satisfied?” Kelly asked.
He nodded, about to leave, when his eye was caught by the double doors that hid the bed. They were not totally closed. He went over and opened them up. The bed behind wasn’t completely flush with the wall.
“How do I get this down?”
Kelly came over and grabbed a lever at the side. With a hard tug, he pulled the bed down.
The cloth valise had been stuffed underneath the mattress. Murdoch snapped open the bag. Women’s clothes. A Bible was sitting on top of the grey jacket and he took it out. Inside was an inscription. À ma soeur, Therese Laporte. Avec amour. Claudette.
He felt a flood of white-hot anger.
“Sean, I want to know who was in this room on Saturday last. I’m going to question every fat cull, and they can have my arse on a bandbox for all I care.”
As Murdoch started to replace the clothes in the valise there was a sharp rap at the door. Kelly answered it. The imperturbable Forsyth stood there. He made a quick attempt to look over the steward’s shoulder but Kelly blocked him.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but there’s a lady to see you. She said it was a matter of great urgency. I took the liberty of placing her in your office, sir. The members, er, won’t have to, er, pass her in the hall.”
Women were not allowed into the inner sanctum of the club under any circumstances.
“Did she state her business?”
“No, sir.”
“Who is she?”
“She says her name is Rhodes, Mrs. Cyril Rhodes.”
Chapter Twenty
Friday, February 15
DONALDA RHODES WAS STANDING in front of the fire warming her hands, but she turned around quickly as the two men entered the room. When she saw Murdoch, she looked frightened. Kelly spoke first.
“Mrs. Rhodes, I’m the steward, John Keene, at your service.”
“I wished to see my husband.”
Murdoch interrupted. “He isn’t here, and frankly I’d like to locate him myself.”
“Why is that, Mr. Murdoch? I thought you had all the information you required.”
She spoke haughtily and even though he knew it was a facade, he was irritated. Fed up with the lot of them.
“Mrs. Rhodes, we have found Therese’s valise. It was hidden in one of the rooms.”
“I see.”
“You can understand the importance of this discovery. Either the girl was brought here or at the very least somebody from this club was with her in the last hours of her life.”
For a moment she appeared to be searching for some denial, an explanation that would remove the danger from her own house. Then she sat down on the edge of the chair by the desk, her back ramrod straight as if she needed to hold herself upright.
She took the ebony cross out of her pocketbook and handed it to Murdoch.
“I believe this is from Theresa’s rosary.”
“Where did you get it, ma’am?”
“Joe found it in a carriage. He is in the way of fishing down the seats for stray coins and he discovered this.”
“Whose carriage would that be, then, ma’am?”
Donalda hesitated, glancing over at Kelly, who was hovering awkwardly near the door.
“Would you rather I left?” he asked.
She considered him. “It doesn’t really matter. It will all come out soon, anyway.”
“Whose carriage, ma’am?” Murdoch prompted.
“Miss Harriet Shepcote’s. She came to Birchlea on Tuesday last, and that’s when he found it.” She met Murdoch’s gaze. “He only showed it to me just now … I am sure he is telling the truth, Mr. Murdoch.”
He tapped the crucififix lightly in his palm. “Why did you come to the club, Mrs. Rhodes, and not directly to the police station?”
“I hoped my husband would be here. Frankly I felt the need to speak to him. Please believe me, I had every intention of informing you, but I’m sure you can understand my concern. Miss Shepcote is quite closely connected with our family … We are hoping for an engagement between her and my son.”
Murdoch understood perfectly. Donalda wanted to be fully prepared if scandal was going to burst over their heads. “The girl would make a pact with the Devil if Owen asked her to,” were the words Edith Foy had used.
Donalda stood up. “May I offer you the use of my carriage, Mr. Murdoch? It is waiting outside. I’m sure there is some urgency to speak to Miss Shepcote.”
She was right. “Thank you, ma’am. That will be most helpful.”
“I will accompany you. No, please, Mr. Murdoch, my presence could be an asset.”
She was right about that too. He didn’t want to be in the position of dealing with an unchaperoned young woman, especially if he was going to arrest her.
Behind Donalda, Kelly beckoned. “Can I have a word?”
Murdoch went closer.
“Willie, let me come too. You might need some help.”
“Sean, I can’t do that. This is police business.”
“You don’t have time to get more officers and you’ve no idea what you’re likely to encounter. You don’t want the culprit to slip through your fingers, do ye now?”
“What about the club?”
“It’s practically my teatime. I can leave for a while.”
Kelly’s scarred face was as eager as a boy’s. Murdoch smiled.
“All right. Do you have any objection to Mr. Keene accompanying us, Mrs. Rhodes?”
“Not at all, but please, let’s hurry.”