Rani’s eyes became unfocused. She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.
“You don’t know?” Damon repeated, staring at her.
She looked at him and shook her head again. “You know she was sickly. She had the asthma. But she had been better, much stronger. Then she gets sick in her stomach. It wasn’t anything I knew, but I suspected, as did Sahib, that she was being poisoned. We could not find the source; we could not prove anything. He replaced all the servants, everyone, and for a time, she got a little better. But then she got her asthma again, and with the two attacking her, she had not strength to fight both, and in the night, she go to sleep and not wake up.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. She bit her lower lip.
“Did anyone visit the house before or during Mrs. Sedgewick’s illness?” Lewis asked.
Rani thought, then shrugged and shook her head. “Company people. Mainly English doctor I did not like and his younger brother, who worked for Sahib at the company. I did not like him either.” Her lip curled up.
“What was it about them you did not like?”
“The Doctor, he hold up his head and look down his nose. Always, like we are not worth being around. But he was always asking about the medicine Sahib take for his arthritis. He wanted to talk to who made it. Sahib lied, he say traveling person. He would be back in three months and he’d get more then. This doctor wants to take what Sahib have. He told himno, as he would not have medicine. Doctor not happy. Says he is leaving India within the month. Wants to study India medicine. Sahib tells him he knows medicine is made from a plant in our yard. Tells doctor he can take some specimens back to England. I speak up then, I say all parts are poisonous, but mainly the root. He stare at me a moment and I’m afraid. I don’t know why.”
“Can you describe him?” James asked.
“Hmm—Tall, but not as tall as Mr. Partridge, but same shoulders, same, same,” she said, with her hands indicating a trim body type. “Black hair with gray he wear combed back with something on it. It is oily looking. Long face, gray beard, gray mustache. Nose is like a blade, and he stares down it with gray eyes. Gray man, even clothes are gray.”
“James, her description sounds like Dr. Lakewood!” Cecilia said.
“Yes, yes,” Rani said. “That is it! I forget before. That is name. And brother is Frederick.”
Lewis and David looked surprised. Damon frowned. “How did you know?”
“Cecilia and I met him two nights ago at Lady Amblethorpe’s musical. He was in the company of the Dowager Countess of Soothcoor. She has been allowing him the use of her conservatory for his plants that he brought back from India,” James said.
“Owen did write to me about a doctor who was in India who was interested in the possibility for Kalihari,” Damon said.
“Did he want to bring this gentleman into your venture?”
Damon laughed harshly. “Hardly. He did not like the man. Said he treated his sister at one time and wanted to trade on that acquaintance to get closer to Owen and knowledge of how Kalihari worked. Kept pestering him about it, and as Rani said, wanted to take Owen’s medication from him.”
“Interesting,” Lewis said. He looked down at his book, then up, his eyes narrowed.
“What is it?” James asked.
“Let me read a note I took from the lad who saw Peasey buy Christopher’s apprenticeship:Tall. Tall man. Way tall—remember this is one of the street lads speaking.Beard. Big shoulders but not fat. Long coat. Gray, not black in lamp light. Too neat.”
“James, that does sound a lot like the man we saw,” Cecilia said.
“Yes, but it is not evidence.”
“He is right, Lady Branstoke,” Lewis said. “I cannot do anything directly with this information, but it does give us a direction for further investigation.”
The bell rang at the door, followed by heavy thudding against the wood.
“Soothcoor!” James said, as he got to his feet and ran toward the front door. Everyone ran behind him. Nate was already opening the door. The moment he lifted the latch, the door was pushed open and flung him aside. He stumbled and fell. Lewis helped him up.
The Earl of Soothcoor was disheveled and dirty. He didn’t wear a hat, and his shoulder-length, gray-streaked black hair stood up in wild disarray. He breathed heavily.
“What’s the news?” he gasped out, grabbing on to James.
“We have him. He’s safe, Alastair.”
“Safe?”
“Yes, safe. We rescued him yesterday.”
“Thank God!” He slid out of James’s hand to sit on the floor. “Thank God,” he said again. He looked up at everyone around him. “Can someone see to my horse? The creature is nigh dead on her feet.”
